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Post by ◊◊BLOODBEASTER◊◊ on Oct 30, 2018 1:15:54 GMT -8
A small crowd gathers inside the Bedford home. A cop at the door performs additional pat-downs before allowing you inside. The house is dead cold, the door left open for so long, and not even as much as a lightbulb on in days. In fact, the power is dead, no one to pay the electrical bill. So you are handed your own, cheap flashlight as you step through the door. The dark isn't so oppressive in the front room, with the curtains drawn, but the hall and upstairs look utterly pitch dark. That thrumming rumbles through the floor irregularly, even stronger inside than on the lawn.
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Post by ∆§Indea§∆ on Oct 30, 2018 1:21:57 GMT -8
 I don't know how anyone could live like this. If I wasn't more educated I would have said the thrumming had driven them all mad. It certainly explain my earlier experience, mostly. For some reason I just couldn't explain it away. I stared doggedly towards the door, waiting for the man of the hour like a kid waiting for Santa. That lawyer better not pull anything. I had had my fill of him already. I watched the other people present as I waited. Trying to figure out their deal. |
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Post by Dr. Jar on Oct 30, 2018 1:29:12 GMT -8
 Harriet- I endure the pat down with resignation and take the flashlight into my hands and aim it about to take in this place.
I'm used to it by now, but I still feel the odd echos of life in this place.
There is nothing new to see, or at least that's what I tell my brain as I scan about for anything that might have been missed as I push the emotional elements of my return to the household to the back of my mind.
There is so much here to take in.
I replay the events in my mind and try to imagine them in the space. It helps me understand what I read, and I walk through step by step, aiming the beam with my thoughts. Focusing.
Pushing away that thing I had considered not long before. The image of the creature on the woman's back echos in my mind. but it is impossible. |
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Post by ◊◊BLOODBEASTER◊◊ on Oct 30, 2018 1:33:53 GMT -8
Harriet-- your flashlight beam flicks over this guy, who winces comically.
Detective Butcher-
"Hi."
He was standing near the kitchen table, examining the gigantic ghost of a bloodstain on the wall.
Edmund-- The prisoner transport will arrive in ten minutes. Do you do any exploring, or wait patiently?
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Post by Dr. Jar on Oct 30, 2018 1:41:11 GMT -8
Harriet- "...Hi, sorry. Didn't see you there." I stifle the urge to ask him if he's ok, because I know he isn't. I wonder what he's thinking. I know that there's nothing left here, but I can't help but wonder if his experiences could shed light on this whole affair. For now I turn the light away from him and apologize. "I can't imagine how you feel being here." |
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Post by ∆§Indea§∆ on Oct 30, 2018 1:44:05 GMT -8
I paced around the living room for a moment. Then taking all my courage, I tell one of the beat cops to get me as soon as the transport shows up then I go upstairs and straight to the cupboard. Just to assure myself there's nothing strange about it really.It stands white like it's own person in the darkness. I point my flash light accusingly at the painting of the demon.Edmund- "What is your deal?"
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Post by ◊◊BLOODBEASTER◊◊ on Oct 30, 2018 1:45:51 GMT -8
Harriet--
His expression flickers through a few emotions before returning to pleasant formality.
Detective Butcher-
"Oh... well, I've been through this house a lot. Giving people
walkthroughs and whatnot. Doesn't really feel like the same
place anymore..."
He glances back to the blood stain just once more before folding his arms and affecting an affable posture."You have any questions about this place?"
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Post by Dr. Jar on Oct 30, 2018 1:48:23 GMT -8
Harriet- "Do they know what the source of the noise is? It's awful." I had to admit, not being used to it, I found it terrible. Not that it was my biggest concern but the thought stuck out to me. |
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Post by ◊◊BLOODBEASTER◊◊ on Oct 30, 2018 1:53:57 GMT -8
Detective Butcher-
"Oh that rumbling? You know I thought--"
On cue, the larger shiver rattled the sliding glass behind you.
He didn't seem especially affected, other than briefly pausing
his speech.
"--That it was that factory back behind here. But it's shut down
now, so I'm not sure. Just the 'mysterious hum' I guess...
I used to work beat out here so I got used to it.
Pretty annoying though, huh."
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Post by Dr. Jar on Oct 30, 2018 1:57:21 GMT -8
Harriet- "A woman asked me about it earlier. I didn't have a clue honestly." She looked at the scene thoughtfully. Everyone had questions but how could he answer them?
She supposed she wanted to ask him about what he witnessed but he had a statement for that. Instead she took in the details. He had a tour to give them anyhow, with what she imagined she was looking for. |
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Post by ◊◊BLOODBEASTER◊◊ on Oct 30, 2018 2:03:38 GMT -8
Detective Butcher-
"Don't miss the back yard. He came in through here."
He gestured to the sliding glass door, which was hanging open. The center of the yard was scorched down to the soil. |
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Post by Dr. Jar on Oct 30, 2018 2:07:57 GMT -8
Harriet- I looked towards the back yard to take it in the scorch marks.
The place where the child's toys were burned. Such a strange thing to do, but perhaps it was part of the ritual.
I tried to imagine the scene in the yard and frowned. |
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Post by ◊◊BLOODBEASTER◊◊ on Oct 30, 2018 2:12:30 GMT -8
Detective Butcher stood a few paces back and took in the same scenery. The backyard was large-- fenced off on either side with tall fences, the back end disappearing into dark pines. The smell in this neighborhood was atrocious, the most polluted part of one of the most polluted cities in the country. But still, how had no one noticed the smell of burning plastic? Had he dragged the little boy out here to watch the bonfire? If you concentrated, maybe you could still get a whiff of the smell.
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Post by Dr. Jar on Oct 30, 2018 2:15:45 GMT -8
I could swear I smelled it, and for one jarring moment, I imagined myself in the child's place.
A awful place. Somewhere no one wanted to be.
I shook it out of my mind, and continued onwards, tracing the crime.
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Post by ◊◊BLOODBEASTER◊◊ on Oct 30, 2018 2:18:40 GMT -8
You recalled the timeframe. He'd have come through this unlocked door-- found the boy and the babysitter in the living room--
Butcher stepped out of your way as you traced the path.
--He attacked the babysitter-- did he knock her unconscious before he dragged her upstairs? Or was she kicking and screaming the whole way?
Butcher was looking up the stairs, like maybe he was running through the same thing in his head.
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