There’s a small forested area no larger than a block in a small gated community near Hawkwood. Near the center, there’s a small unlocked shed made from red tin. Inside is nothing but a set of rickety wooden shelves. In times past, they were used for potting plants or storing tools. But today all they have on them is a single mason jar. It’s sealed tightly and opening it would be a death sentence.
The Jar appears to contain nothing other than a thin layer of soil at the bottom and murky water. However, occasionally the water will be disturbed as if something inside were stirring. Normally it’s impossible to make out what’s inside in the gloom of the shed and taking the jar outside into the light would excite it so much that the jar would break.
If you wish to see what’s inside, bring a black handled knife. Cut yourself and bring the wound up to the side of the jar. The water will thicken to clay and take the shape of a small man. If he lunges at the wound, snarling, trying to bite, you’re human. But if he cowers on the other end of the jar, whimpering, you’ve been replaced by one of Them.