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[endlessblaze]

Step away from the door and wait for the emergency services outside.

+1 Let's not follow plot hooks.

lets just peek through the keyhole of the door or something.

[Glacies]

Step away from the door and wait for the emergency services outside.

+1 Let's not follow plot hooks.

lets just peek through the keyhole of the door or something.

You don't want to know. You really don't. The guy in the other room sounds like a maniac, and is probably on drugs or something. Probably a really bad idea. Really a bad idea. You'll just get a quick look at the guy through the keyhole. What could go wrong?

Through the keyhole in the door, you see a sink with a medicine cabinet and a tub with a shower curtain. The curtain is pulled all the way back, and the bathroom doesn't have anyone in it. What the heck? This is too weird.

You back up, turn around and head towards the main room. A voice from inside the bathroom laughs at you. "Coward! HaHAhaHAha! That's just like you! Go ahead! They won't do you any favors!"

You are now standing in the main room again. There is an older green upholstered couch, a stand with a TV on it that is still quietly broadcasting the national fearmongering station, TV guide still wrapped in cellophane tucked beneath it. A stand with a phonebook and telephone on it, receiver hanging off the hook and emitting a dialtone. There is a damp piece of junk mail, two repulsive looking pillows, and a bundle of red cloth on the couch. To your WEST is a bedroom. To your EAST is a kitchen. To your SOUTH is the street.

What now?
>_

[Glacies]

Somewhat numbly, you sit down on the couch and watch TV while you wait for the emergency services to arrive. Normally, the news offends your sensibilities, but since you have little else to do, it will help pass the time.

The news transitions from politics to local news. It seems like this item has been run several times, as a clipped and somewhat rushed version is playing. The anchor gloomily opens up on a news item. “The search for the missing teenagers from Fawcett, who disappeared on December the twenty second, is being scaled back.” Images come up on the screen. Familiar faces. James. Marie. Andrew. Jodie. You. Names beneath photographs. Unflattering photographs, at that. Your name is Thomas McAllister. That seems right. A shot of Jodie's parents, teary-eyed and downcast. “We've been praying for her safe return, we've been praying...”Then, an odd cut to a shot of a disappointed policeman in a press conference talking to reporters. The Anchor is dubbed over it. “Sources inside the police say that little progress is being made on the search. If you have any information, please call the number on your screen to-”

The date. January tenth. Three weeks. That's one heck of a long time to be missing. And your friends are gone too. That opens up some questions. At least police are on their way. You turn the TV off. The image fades, and your reflection in the TV looks very little like the photo on TV. Sunken eyes, ashen face, and you've lost a lot of weight.

Your reflection in the screen tilts his head to the side. “You look like shit, you know that?”

You double take. Your reflection doesn't, and leans forward on the couch, grinning. “Rough night?”

What now?
>_

[AoshimaMichio]

"And whose fault you think that is?" Offer a middle finger for my reflection.

[Glacies]

"And whose fault you think that is?" Offer a middle finger for my reflection.

Heck, that would be really, uh, rude. Honestly, that's something that He would do. Isn't it? Oh heck. You make a rude gesture at your reflection. He seems surprised.

"Hey, we've got some self loathing to do, that's fine. But the police are going to be here soon. We don't want to be here when that happens."

[AoshimaMichio]

"The police are my friend. Why I wouldn't want to be here?"

[Glacies]

"The police are my friend. Why I wouldn't want to be here?"

"They aren't going to make you comfortable. Let's put it that way. Another way I could put it? You did a bad thing. Not an awful thing, but a mistake. And we'll pay for it sevenfold if you spend tonight in lockup. You understand?"

[AoshimaMichio]

"No, but I don't need to either. You are only a hallucination or something."

[Glacies]

"No, but I don't need to either. You are only a hallucination or something."

"Hahaha! Yes, maybe if you're hopeful enough, you'll wake up and realize this was all a traumatic episode brought on by bad mushrooms. No, I'm too lucid for a hallucination! Hallucinations are vague threads of half-remembered conversation, feelings, not your glib half talking smack to you. Then again, I always was a know-it-all. Am. Er. This is more like a, a, whatwouldyacallit, a, um, actually nevermind. This is getting you. Me. Nowhere. Right." Your reflection pauses. You glare at each other. "Keep your eyes open when the police come to visit you. And then open them again. Got that?"

"No!" you reply. "That doesn't make sense! You can't even be real. You're talking nonsense."

"Great!" your reflection replies, "Since you're clearly in the denial stage of grief, I'll leave you to stew. I'm not a registered therapist. Just one more bit of advice. That party was a bit of a mistake. In the future, please drink responsibly." He give you a thumbs up.

Then he's gone. You're holding your thumb up. Hastily, irritated and frightened, you put you hand down. The police should be here soon. Any time. You are now sitting on a damp piece of junk mail on the old green upholstered couch. Across the room there is a stand with a TV on it still as the grave, TV guide still wrapped in cellophane tucked beneath it. Also in this room is a stand with a phonebook and telephone on it, receiver hanging off the hook and emitting a rapid series of annoying beeps. There are two repulsive looking pillows, and a bundle of red cloth on the couch. To your WEST is a bedroom. To your EAST is a kitchen. To your SOUTH is the street.

What now?
>_

[AoshimaMichio]

Stop annoying beeps from phone.

[Glacies]

Stop annoying beeps from phone.

You pick the receiver up and place it back where it belongs. The beeping stops. The room is now very still. There's no noise to speak of.

What now?
>_

[AoshimaMichio]

Wait for police. Hallucinations are usually all wrong, like oasis in desert. An illusion that desperate mind generates. ...So I desperately want police to not be my friend? What's wrong with my head?

[Glacies]

Wait for police. Hallucinations are usually all wrong, like oasis in desert. An illusion that desperate mind generates. ...So I desperately want police to not be my friend? What's wrong with my head?

What indeed. You stare at the door, hand clenching into a fist, relaxing, clenched again. Any minute. Any minute now. It's been nearly ten minutes, fifteen since you called. Hasn't it? You hear traffic nearby. That's probably them. A car, with a powerful but quiet engine, is driving down the street. Your foot is tapping nervously. You stand up and walk across the room and peek out the front window. There's a police car pulling up. Your entire leg is jumping nervously.

A man in uniform gets out of the driver's seat. He's not much older than you, regulation haircut, soft face. He's not evil. A woman, maybe in her early forties and also in uniform, gets out of the passenger door. She looks slightly worn, a little racoon-like, but she's not evil either. You relax. They have a very brief exchange and then the woman takes the lead and starts to walk up the path to the porch. She glances at the window, and you make eye contact. She hesitates for a moment. She's afraid. For an instant. Why? Then she shakes it off and knocks on the door.

What now?
>_

[Cheesecake]

Go get some help! You obviously need to get to a hospital. Make sure that's the first thing the cops know about.

[SaberToothTiger]

Run towards the cops, arm waving and screaming all the way.

This will convince them that we really need to go to a hospital, unlike talking.