[IC] 𝙳𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚘𝚜𝚝

[Poet]

_{𝙽𝙴𝚆 𝚈𝙾𝚁𝙺 𝙲𝙸𝚃𝚈, 𝙽𝚈. 𝟸𝟹𝚍 𝙷𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝚘𝚏 𝙵𝚁𝙸𝙳𝙰𝚈, 𝟷𝟿 𝙾𝙲𝚃𝙾𝙱𝙴𝚁 𝟸𝟶𝟷𝟾}

Soundtrack

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚒𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚝. 𝙼𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚛𝚞𝚋 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 ‘𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎’ 𝚘𝚛 ‘𝚌𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕’, 𝚊 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐? 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠. 𝙷𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊 𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚒𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 ‘𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕’, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚖𝚊𝚍. 𝙸𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚢, 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚊𝚜. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎.

“𝚈𝚘, 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚕𝚊𝚍𝚢, 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝?” 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝙹𝚘𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚞𝚐 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎. “𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚙 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝? 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚓𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝—𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚊 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞? 𝚂𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝. 𝙱𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑, 𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚓𝚘𝚋”. 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝. “𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗?” 𝚜𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝙹𝚘𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚊𝚜𝚙𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚗-𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚏-𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛. “𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚒𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢. 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗 𝚞𝚙 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝙱𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝙼𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝.”

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎, 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 ‘𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍’ 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚗𝚘 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚜. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚜, 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙, 𝚘𝚌𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚠𝚗. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢.

𝙴𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎’𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚍. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚝. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖—𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚙𝚜𝚎𝚞𝚍𝚘-𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎—𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚞𝚖𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎.

𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚜. 𝙸𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢. 𝙸𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕. 𝙿𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖, 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚢 ‘𝙶𝚘𝚍’ 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖. 𝙰𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚕, 𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚋𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎. 𝙼𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚓𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚘. 𝙸𝚝𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚢. 𝙸𝚝 𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎. (𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝟼) 𝙵𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗. (𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝟹) 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚘𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚋 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚕 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚎𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚝.

[DeadDrop]

Shit.

People were kinda tripping out about the whole thing, when the cop started talking maybe it started to make a lot more sense but at the time no one really understood what was going on. The old guys were freaking out, the thug didn't really trust anyone. It was good to have resolved in these times, but nothing could prepare Alex for what she was about to see. She walked closer to the door, about as far as the Detective had gone. Inquisitiveness is somewhat of a killer in the sense of curiosity being the downfall of most, but at least she wasen't curious enough to goto the hall.

Thats when she saw it, per say. The veil tear.

That monster sure looked fucking real, and dangerous. Alex looked at the huge fucking abomination and it took her a second to process that she was probably going to be mince meat. Her face returned to an unhealthy shade of white as she started to tremble, making her way towards the Detective she simply grabbed onto the coattails of the woman as she hid behind her - simply puzzled and scared out of her mind. She held tight onto the woman's back, despite the circumstances it seems that the policewoman became the symbol to really rally around in the time of peril.

It was over, game fucking over in a literal sense. They never lie when they say your life flashes before your eyes, a sense of despair washed over Alex. While the little hope of seeing Zack and surviving dwindled she more so focused on her own survival, was she ok? Was she injured, how real was this? While what she was seeing was simply fucking mind-blowing natural, basic instincts of survival started to kick in. Things were about to take off.

[Ashgan]

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.

[DJAtomika]

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.

[Poet]

_{𝙽𝙴𝚆 𝚈𝙾𝚁𝙺 𝙲𝙸𝚃𝚈, 𝙽𝚈. 𝟸𝟹𝚍 𝙷𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝚘𝚏 𝙵𝚁𝙸𝙳𝙰𝚈, 𝟷𝟿 𝙾𝙲𝚃𝙾𝙱𝙴𝚁 𝟸𝟶𝟷𝟾}

Soundtrack

“𝙸 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚒𝚝. 𝚂𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚙,” 𝙹𝚘𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚙𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝚈𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚎. “𝚈𝚘, 𝚠𝚎’𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚌 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚞𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎, 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞,” 𝙹𝚘𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗, 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕. 𝙹𝚘𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚗-𝚎𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚛.

𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚜𝚞𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚓𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝-𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚜𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝙹𝚘𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖.

“𝚈𝚘, 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎…” 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚞𝚙𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚞𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚊𝚜, 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚗𝚘 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗, 𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜, 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚗, 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎, 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚢 𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝙹𝚘𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚒𝚙 𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚢 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖, 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚒𝚖𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚜.

“𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐!” 𝙹𝚘𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚊. 𝙸𝚏 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎. 𝙷𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗. 𝙹𝚘𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗’𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚡 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚜, 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. “𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚗, 𝚕𝚎𝚝’𝚜 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎,” 𝙹𝚘𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚊, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚎.

(𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎: 𝙰𝚕𝚎𝚡 𝙵𝚞𝚜𝚌𝚘) 𝙰 𝚜𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚕𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚑 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍. 𝙸𝚝 𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜. 𝙿𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚏 𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗, 𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝙰 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚎. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜.

(𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎: 𝙳𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚍 𝚂𝚊𝚠𝚢𝚎𝚛) 𝙰 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚍é𝚓à 𝚟𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎, 𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚜… 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

[Bishop]

He finally wakes up from his hazed state amidst the commotion. Was it too late? Did he fail? Was he going to get locked up again?
He got up and somewhat composed himself. They were trying to make him fail. It was a test, they were all actors trying to get him to slip up so they can lock him up again.

But he wouldn't fall for this lie. He was smarter than them, he gad gotten out after all hadn't he? They couldn't keep him locked up forever. And on the worst case scenario, it was all actually in his head and not some play with actors. SO he just had to take control of his mind in order to calm down everybody.

Somewhat composing himself, he got out of the room, a confident smile on his face and you could swear he was chuckling to himself, pushing his way forward through anyone who might be blocking the door.

Assuming he got out he said:"Now what?" just as he was to make the turn to face the creature.

.

.

.

.

.

.

He found himself running the opposite direction with all he had. You would never guess that man to be above 30 years old based on how fast he hightailed it. The moment he saw the creature a tear streamed down one of his eyes, his smile frozen on his face along with his blood. Everything was still but for a split second until he regained his bearings, yet again, from the momentary shock and found himself running through the hallways of the building. Luckily for him, his body had a better survival sense than his mind since it started running before his mind even processed the dreadful nightmarish picture that laid before him inn that instance.

[DeadDrop]

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.

[Ashgan]

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.

[Poet]

_{𝙽𝙴𝚆 𝚈𝙾𝚁𝙺 𝙲𝙸𝚃𝚈, 𝙽𝚈. 𝟸𝟹𝚍 𝙷𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝚘𝚏 𝙵𝚁𝙸𝙳𝙰𝚈, 𝟷𝟿 𝙾𝙲𝚃𝙾𝙱𝙴𝚁 𝟸𝟶𝟷𝟾}

Soundtrack

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖? 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚘? 𝚆𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎, 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕? 𝙽𝚘, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢. 𝙷𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚙𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠? 𝙳𝚒𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚢 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖? 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖—𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖? 𝙸𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚝.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚢, 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚙. 𝙻𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚖𝚜𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍. 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚎, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 ‘𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍’ 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚂𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚓𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚕, 𝚜𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝙹𝚘𝚎, 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝙷𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚌𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚜, 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 ‘𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢’ 𝚘𝚛 ‘𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑’, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝.

“𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐?” 𝙹𝚘𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍, 𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘? 𝚁𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚎? 𝙽𝚘𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚊𝚢 — ‘𝚈𝚘, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚞𝚜, 𝚐𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝’. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚓𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝-𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚜𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚍, 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚔𝚎, 𝚝𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢.

“𝚂𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢, 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎? 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚗, 𝚠𝚎’𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚜. 𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜? 𝚆𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐? 𝙳𝚒𝚍 𝚠𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚙 𝚘𝚞𝚝?” 𝙹𝚘𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚖 𝚍𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝. 𝙿𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚞𝚙, 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚢 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚕, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚁𝚊𝚜𝚙𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚗, 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚓𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚊, 𝙰𝚕𝚎𝚡, 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎. 𝙹𝚘𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎, 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗—𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚠.

(𝙶𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙾𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜) 𝚂𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚡. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝙾𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎, 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗. 𝙰𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚜. 𝙻𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝. 𝙰 𝚏𝚎𝚠 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝: 𝚆𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛? 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖? 𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛? 𝙸𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛? 𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝? 𝙸𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚏𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝙲𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚛, 𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝—𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚏𝚏, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜.

[Bishop]

He ran and ran and when he got his bearings he found himself locked up inside an office looking through the small window in the door. Did he outrun it? Was it too far behind to know where he went to hide? Maybe it just chased some of the others. Sliding down the door in exhaustion he took a breather. He was surprisingly calm, his thoughts were clear and his heart wasn't beating too fast taking the situation under consideration. It was just like he came from a morning jog. The irrational fear he felt didn't come from him, if that makes any sense. It was like the antivirus closing a program automatically or removing it once it found out to be a threat to the computer. The owner wouldn't have thought twice about using the program but the antivirus knows better....in most cases. You could say his antivirus was a 10/10.

Then he realized, as his heart started pounding faster that he had gone upstairs, a floor above the creature, certainly not where the exit was. He had to get out of there. He couldn't waste more time than he already had and he couldn't risk waiting there for anyone. He suddenly remembered a game that his nephew played with a theme like "Survive the Night until Morning inside the building". Well good thing this wasn't a game with those death sentence rules. He had to find a map with the layout of the building and hopefully find a fire escape in this floor. Worst case scenario the fire escape was a floor below him. Taking a deep breath he opened the office door and ventured outsiide.

[DeadDrop]

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.."

[Ashgan]

"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.

[DJAtomika]

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."