He looked like a man but spoke like a child. Trisha saw no point in arguing with Joe; if he wanted to be the contrarian, she’d leave him to his own devices. She owed him nothing, least of all a reply to his pointless outburst, predictable as it might have been. Evidently he had never known the yoke of authority, or at least had chafed under it for the entirety of his ill-conceived life. That’s how he ended up the crook he was in the first place. It’s painful, Joe; but sometimes, other people do know better than you.

She blinked a few times, waiting for anyone to muster the common sense to agree with her and ask to be escorted outside. Nothing ever came; the closest she got was Alex, who had shuffled closer to her but said nothing. Perhaps she was too frightened to speak up? Even without the occult nonsense going on, it would have been a tense situation: a tough-looking thug threatening to snap, and a crazed-sounding old timer who already had snapped by the looks of things. Best to cut her losses, she figured; there was no sign that these people were in actual danger, and she was just offering to take them out as a nice gesture. Her main interest was and remained going home.

“Looks like that’s it – hey?” Trisha was about to address Alex when she noticed that the girl had slipped through the doorway and was standing still in the hall – unnaturally still. The detective could spot the gentle shiver in the twitch of her fingers and the quivering of her lips. She stared at something, wild-eyed, before stumbling back into the room. She still did not speak a word, and simply pushed herself behind Trisha, holding onto her coat like a frightened child. She decided that she was not feigning it.

“What’s wrong? Is someone there?” she asked over her shoulder, trying to sound comforting but unable to shake the intrinsic coldness that seemed to permeate her every word. McCoy? Who else could it be? Why would they scare her so? Were they armed? Had McCoy gotten a gun? Or simply turned out to be a madman, perhaps finding a knife or a pair of scissors? If guns were involved, she had to be extremely careful – but, more importantly, she had to be in the know and find out. The only thing worse than a confirmed gun was an unknown element of threat.

“Let me look,” she said to Alex, gently and briefly squeezing her shoulder. Alex’s gaze had been towards the right of the exit, so that’s where the danger was. Trisha emerged into the hallway, shining her bright white smart phone screen towards the gloomy end of the hall.

The lizard brain reacted before the human one. Her blood froze, her heart skipped a few beats. Fight or flight. Like Alex before her, she stared at the inhuman monstrosity, half-way illuminated by light from the front and the back. She could not help but notice that same quiver on her lower lip. She thought she’d gotten rid of that long ago. Old habits died hard. Fight or flight? Maybe this was it. She had finally gone insane for real. Years of mental and physical abuse, inflicted by none other than herself, finally caught up with her. Wait, maybe it was the candles. Hallucinogenic? Yes, that could explain – No, it didn’t add up. Alex had seen it. Reacted the same way, looked at the same place. Could not be a coincidence. Shared hallucination? Too farfetched, even for candles with a strange oriental smell. Maybe, maybe – a prop? A costume?

Anything?

Panicked hopes were dashed when it howled like a buzz saw; a fierce screech that penetrated glass and bone. She saw no mouth. Fight or flight? Fight or – Fuck you, lizard. There were people to protect. This was her god damn job. She was not going to turn tail and run like a little girl. But the thing was already moving in her direction, albeit slowly – its every motion a disturbing twitch that evoked the dying spasms of road kill more than it did a wholesome, living thing. She had to be fast.

“Listen up civilians!” she yelled into the room, keeping her light and eyes peeled on the thing whose aspect dragged her deeper and deeper into a dark mire. “There’s someone dangerous in this building! For your own safety, I need all of you to form a line and evacuate the premises right now!”

Her tone of voice was stern and commanding; she left no room for doubt. “No dallying! Get out, take the staircase, get onto the street. Now! Move, move!”

With her free hand, she fumbled in the inside of her cloak and pulled out a sleek, black gun.

“Whoever you are, stay back and identify yourself!” she warned the creature, training her gently shaking barrel on it. It did not occur to her how ridiculous her demand was, given the situation.

As David awoke from the near trance he'd been in, he looked around and saw expressions of panic in most of the other attendees, hell all of them were anxious in some way about the weird noises and the eerie atmosphere and everything about the entire situation seemed very off. The ex-cop, Trisha was her name, stood up and peeked out of the room, along with the other young lady. He was tempted as well, even as he unconsciously pulled his camera from his messenger bag and held it in his trembling hands. The noises weren't getting any softer and he sure as hell wasn't getting any younger. David crept out from his seat, even as the younger lady (Ash, was it?) stifled a shriek and hid behind the cop, who drew her firearm in response.

The room was lit only by the street lamps outside and the candles within and yet...all the light didn't make the atmosphere any less creepy. It didn't help when he heard that unearthly shriek as whatever it was that made those noises spotted them. At the cop's discretion, David made his way out of the room, ducking underneath her gun since she was aiming out into the hallway. Regardless if anyone followed him, the journalist in him wanted to know more...what was the cop facing down that had her sounding so scared? The temptation was too much to resist...

Slowly, David turned to face the horror in the hall. Everything he knew about the world vanished in that instant. The tentacled, spiked abomination that stood in the center of the hallway was clearly not human. Despite the cop's demands for it to identify itself, he knew the monstrosity wouldn't speak. It knew only action, for it felt real. Real enough that perhaps maybe a bullet or two would stop it from advancing on the rest of the unarmed civilians, him included.

His hands trembling, David did the only thing he knew how to: he raised his camera to his face, centered the monster in his lens and depressed the shutter button.

Zssh-click.

Alex was hesitant at listening at first, still trying to get a grip on reality before a hellish nightmare ensured in her mind. She, saw hell? Or something close to it, whatever it was - it was daunting, a fever dream or something worse? Paralyzed, in a mental sense she continued to be behind the Detective. A savage fucking reality she was in, it was just her, the gangster and the detective. Her heart hurt, it was racing with anxiety and other feelings that could only be described as not good. Her knees a bit shakey, adrenaline started to pump through her body.

Man reality just got fucked sideways.

Would god really leave the forsaken in this begotten of death that was so apparent before them, horror never felt so real to Alex. Maybe the films see watched early as a child were only a small portion of how truly a human soul could tremble before an ungodly and demonic sight that was that hellspawn out in the hallway. Hope seemed fickle but with Trisha in front of her, she knew there could be a chance - a change in the tides. It was uncertain what a gun could do against such a horrid creature but when hope was out of sight those who held onto it could always spot it, even in the darkest hours.

Hope always brought a smile to her face but in troubling times, like in the past hope is slippery - something you can't grab onto until it's too late. Still processing the ever-changing situation they were in she wondered if today would be her last. Of course, that seemed like the plan, die at the hands of a monster but something felt off. Maybe it was god's plan to put them in such a troubling situation, a challenge within a challenge. Regardless, god or not nothing would ever be the same after this.

Joe retorted something back in the room; probably didn’t agree with her order to evacuate. She had no intention of repeating herself; the others complied, or they died. Their choice. Whatever he had said, she understood not a single word of it. There were far more pressing things on her mind: the shuffling creature before her, and the chilling thoughts it dredged up from the unconscious. Indeed, her predicament reminded her of something very specific, something she would rather not have remembered until it returned to collect its next due.

It was similar to a recurring nightmare she had every few years: She would be alone in dark place. A corridor or a basement perhaps, someplace lightless where abhorrent things happened out of sight. There too, an undefined thing was lumbering towards her, vaguely humanoid but with no discerning features. She could not describe its aspect, but she knew who it was. A demon who had given up humanity long ago, whose only purpose for humans was for him to slake his unnatural and vile desires. He approached her ever so slowly, but with inexorable certainty. In this dream, she was unarmed. She had nowhere to run. But the worst of it was this:

In this dream, she was a child.

Even if Joe had been drinking and intended to yank the gun from her hand, her fingers clutched the metal in a deathly cold grip, like rigor mortis. Save the index was at ease, hard discipline overriding her instincts even in this situation and preventing accidental or ill-conceived shots. It was the unmistakable sound of a photo being snapped that pulled her out of the mire and back to the present. Somebody had… snapped a photo. A photo? Were they out of their minds?

“The fuck are you doing?!” she hissed, eyes trained on the monster, “Get out already!”

More people were mobilizing now, including the unruly thug. It seemed that curiosity got the better of him and he too became witness to the thing that was coming uncomfortably close. Joe took hold of a fire extinguisher; normally, Trisha would have to see about disarming and calming him, but in this situation she figured it was permissible. Perhaps it was better this way. He urged her to shoot, but she would not. She was not a cowboy or a gangster, not a movie hero. Shooting at someone had to be the last resort, the purpose of which was not to subdue or kill, but to prevent greater harm. Shooting was a choice for the lesser of two evils. Moreover, discipline forbade her from being goaded towards violence by a third person. She would fire only if there was no alternative… or if she found the Violator.

The room emptied surprisingly quickly all of a sudden when the realization of real danger finally dawned upon every last person present. With nobody left inside, Joe suggested the two of them leave as well; his tone was almost agreeable.

“Is everyone out?” she asked, casting a brief glance into the meeting room to confirm this. Her feet were carrying her slowly backwards, arms still extended towards the thing. “Okay Joe, let’s move!”

With his agreement, the two of them would run for the staircase where, hopefully, the rest of the patients had already descended towards the lobby and the street.

Alex was, maybe the thought was hard to process. It felt real, looked real so it must be real but it was all she needed was the prompt by the detective. She took off down the hall, just like all the others did but they weren't headed for the elevators. Maybe the power was off, or it just didn't work anymore.. Regardless she followed someone from the group is was kind of a blur but these things come back in hindsight. She hurried down the staircase, good thing she was going down it was easier on her legs at least that was the upside. She didn't fucking die, not yet anyway - with a brutal reality they had just faced, things weren't going to get better.

The mood really did suck outside, neon lights and the smell of death. Somethin similar to the mood of Seattle after the accident, regardless there she was surrounded by a group of people she didn't really know or care to know. Fate had brought them together, fate being the bitch it always was. Splitting up would be a bad idea, just like in the movies you split up to investigate you simply fucking die - simple as that. Assuming everyone didn't die yet, Alex looked around - looked like everyone was here.. Maybe. The doctor wasn't but who fucking cared about that bastard anyway...

"Shit in there was real.. No glitches or anything. I think, we have to stay together atleast try and figure this shit out. I'm too scared to go alone anyway.."

"It's possible," Trisha interjected between Joe and Alex's nervous talking, "There was incense in any case. Didn't recognize the smell, but I'm not in drug enforcement. But it wasn't a hallucination. We've all seen it and I don't think a collective, shared hallu is - plausible."

She had to pause for a moment, thinking about the use of the word plausible. None of what had just happened was, technically, plausible by any stretch. How could she discard the notion of a collective hallucination as far-fetched when the alternative was to accept that she had just seen a, for all intents and purposes, monster? When it meant that she had to admit that something like this existed, that it was real? There were no good options here.

"Sometimes," she went on, sounding a bit wistful, "we find out that there are things in this world we wouldn't have thought possible. Happens all the time when you're young, but there are surprises even for adults. We just have to adjust."

Adjusting was hard in this case. There were so, so many unknowns. About the creature itself: what was it? What motivated it? How did it operate? Where did it come from, where would it go? Where *could* it go? Was it intelligent? Were there more? Could they procreate? Could they die? What from?

There was no body of knowledge to rely on here, no scientific papers to consult or even just a basic wikipedia article to read. And Trisha felt decidedly unenthusiastic about establishing the basics through empirical testing in the future. Of course, there was one person who might consult her on the ins and outs of what had just happened - what had he called it again? An 'obscure event'? The term fitted like a glove.

"But more importantly, I want to dig. I can't rightly say that we've been made victim of a crime, but I sure do want to talk to McCoy. If that's his real name, I'm sure I can find him soon."

There was no guarantee, of course, that there ever was a doctor by that name. This could all have easily been a hoax to force them into a trap. But why? She could see no conceivable motive. If the goal was to get them killed there would have been far more effective methods. So much more effective that she wanted to rule out the possibility that murder was the motive. But what else could it be? Was it just a set-up to make them *see* the thing? Was it a way to force these people, and herself, to expand their notion of what was real in a way that exposed them to danger, but did not kill them? But again, why?

She needed to find the doctor, and soon. If for no other reason than to better establish a basis for further investigation.

David's hands were shaking. Being one of the last few to escape the building, he'd left with the images of the monster he'd taken a photo of in his head and in his camera. He was just behind the cop as the motley group gathered outside the staircase that led to the street, each one catching their breath as they took stock of the situation. He was in shock, mostly. The sight of that...thing in the hallway...coupled with the funny smelling incense candles and the weird placement... The ex-journalist was in agreement with everything being said right now, out in the Seattle cold. The moment felt right as well, right for...a bit of documentation. David fiddled a little with his camera to get the settings right, moved a little ways from the group to set his camera down on the pavement with a timer set on the shutter. He adjusted the focus, making sure it was angled at the group by propping it up with a pebble, then hit the shutter button and went back to stand with the group.

Five seconds later and his camera made itself known with the shutter going off again. Satisfied with the result, he went over to pick it back up and put the strap around his neck. You never knew when you'd need to take another picture...

The cop did hit it on the head: Dr McCoy was suspicious. Something was up with him...how he'd been so snappy in their little group therapy and how he vacated the room like his life depended on it after he lit up those candles. And that...monster. Why did he get that feeling of 𝚍é𝚓à 𝚟𝚞 when he'd taken its picture? Like he'd seen it somewhere before? But that was...impossible.

David shook the thoughts out of his head and collected himself. There had to be something to be done, right? And as he looked over the group, he noticed something...

"Uh...guys? Someone's missing from our gang of misfits. I counted six of us including myself up there, minus the doctor. Now there's only five. And as much as I'd like to go pursue Doctor McCoy, I think we should try to find the missing guy too."