Might as
well...
I flip through the pages of the journal, searching for clues about who's responsible for my current predicament.
Scattered notes, to-do lists, and conspiracy theories fill the pages.
(Press to turn pages)
I notice movement under my sleeve and see a sizable insect pulling its swollen, blood-filled abdomen onto my wrist.
How long
has that thing
been on me?!
What the f*ck!?
What kind of insect
was that!?
The journal stares up at me from the desk. I wait. Tense. Half expecting the creature within to suddenly stir.
As the seconds pass, there’s a growing urge to look and confirm the thing is dead. Although my stomach churns at the very idea, the desire to know eventually wins out.
Christ, I
hate bugs...
Keeping an eye out for any sudden movements, I peek inside.
All that's left of the insect is a sickening splatter mixed with what I assume is my own blood...
I can't help but let out a nervous laugh as I realize the splatter resembles a faerie... like a grotesque ink-blot test reflecting my distressed psyche.
Words begin to appear on the page and, for a moment, I think it can only be another trick of the mind.
What is
this?
Comparing the handwriting of this note to the earlier entries in the journal, it’s clear that they were written by the same person - “Anne”.
Based on the contents of the note, it doesn't seem like Anne intends to harm me, which is a small comfort.
But who
is Anne? And Oliver?
Did one of them lock me
in this room? How does Anne
know my name? And why did
their message appear
like that?
to hide this object go to the settings
Audio Trigger
W-who's
there?
It's a
loooovelyyyy
night we're havinnng...
Someone is lurking in the doorway. A door I hadn’t even seen until this moment.
The figure withdraws without answering, the door swings closed behind them.
I lunge for the handle, seizing what I fear may be my one chance at escape, before the door can close completely. My heart races as I cautiously open the door, afraid of what or who I might see on the other side.
The hallway in front of me is dark. There’s no sign of the person who’d just been standing in the doorway, but I can't shake the feeling that something is lurking just out of sight.