Atomizer

   The tiny perfume bottle sat alone in a large glass case that sat in the middle of the room.  It was far to small to be of any practical use.  Made of crystal, it was devoid of decoration save for one thin gold band wrapped around the pump.  The price tag read, $150,000.  That's all?  Clearly they didn't know what they had here.  He opened his satchel and began to count out the money.

Ron

  "Ron?"
  The man shuffling towards them made no reply, the only sounds coming from his feet dragging on the side walk.  As he stepped under the streetlight,  they saw his face, covered in puss filled sores.  His mouth hung agape, but silent, and they watched in horror as his teeth began to fall out of his jaw.

Sawmill

   Cobwebs littered the rafters, and a thick dust was everywhere, disturbed only where their footprints followed behind them.  The wooden floor creaked as they moved slowly across it.  Freshly cut logs lay next to the saw, the scent of sawdust still hanging in the air.  But the blade was rusted from years of disuse.  What was going on here?

Misleading Title

   Something was definitely wrong.  This book was all about popular shipping lanes of the 1800's.  An interesting enough subject, but the front of the book clearly read "Everything You Could Want To Know About Trains."  He was going to call the publisher.  Someone had some explaining to do.

Floorboards

   Derrick never noticed the eye watching him from beneath the floorboards.  It had been there for weeks, tracking his movements.  It took meticulous notice of all that he did, and it remembered everything.  Though it could only see him while he was in that particular room, it didn't much matter.  It would soon have enough information, and when it did, it would be time to act.

Chair

  The sanding was complete, and now he lovingly applied the stain.  His hands shook now, but not enough to cause issue.  The rag was thick, and the smells of the wood and the stain mixed in his nostrils.  It was pleasant.
   He paused and stood, looking at the ornate handcrafted chair.  When he was finished, this would be the culmination of nearly one hundred fifty years of painstaking work.  It was his greatest achievment.

Lightning Bolt

   Alec had been knocked unconsious.  He remembered he'd been running.  He remembered that it had started to rain.  But he remembered little after that.
  He sat up, maybe a little fast, but he felt surprisingly well.  Something on his arm began to itch.  As he reached to scratch it, a small arc of electricity danced across his skin.
   That was odd.