[Yeah, they will laugh at religion. Why not? And what is that noise?]
Mmm, something here? [They move backwards away from the bed, looking at it with wide eyes, wrench held aloft.] I can't say I like when guests invite themselves to my company.
[nothing comes out from under the bed, but there is a sound that wobbles out instead. the only way to describe it is like... the sound of a battery in a toy doll dying? it's just eldritch wobbly crying.]
[Douman. Just squats down, tone soothing, like yeah they still have the wrench and the glock in hand, but its definitely not shown as anything threatening.]
[THE CLOWN DOESN'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO USE THE GLOCK]
[But okay now, that is WAY too close for comfort, even though things with many legs are great in their book, usually - they stand up and whip around with a slight snarl, because hey, you need to ask PERMISSION for launchpad privileges, buddy!]
[I don't know which hand the thing is dragging down, but regardless of whether its glock or wrench, Douman, attempting to pull back from being yanked, swiftly brings it down with their other hand, hoping to hit whatever is biting them with a hard blow.]
[it's the hand with the wrench, whichever that one is.
they swing down, and - like, there's nothing there, but they do connect with something solid. it makes a sound like a plush toy being squeaked, and lets go. unfortunately it's going to take a huge chunk of the meat of douman's hand with it. rude of it.
it's fine, anyway. they exit the room without further incident, and head to room 401. it opens easily enough! it's just... a place. it's a place! a familiar place.]
[Douman has not been physically present in this space, but they are able to recognize it, especially with the logo emblazoned on some of the white walls. They walk down the hallway, dripping blood behind them.]
Hahaha. Wasn't this destroyed? Dear me. The folly of humanity...what a monument to that! Ahaha...
[the blood almost echoes each time a drip hits the floor, as they step through.
this space seems claustrophobic. distorted, a little. time doesn't feel right. they walk in, and five seconds pass, and then suddenly, it feels like it's been eight hours. ten. twelve. they're still just walking, for five seconds but stretched for so, so long.
there's a flash of red at the end of the hallway.]
[They blink. It feels...draining. They let out a huff of a laugh, the scent of blood still powerful. Walking like this in a dead place is...laughable. All laughable.]
[But the flash of red makes them snap their head up, the slow feeling replaced by sudden intrigue, surprise.]
[it's small - and it looks like it just dropped out from the ceiling.
the closer they get, the more terror fills them. the fear of death, the fear of the unknown, the certain dread that something will be destroyed beyond repair. it might not be their emotion, but they feel it grasp at their lungs, freeze them up.
the red thing lays on the floor, unmoving. it doesn't seem like something alive.]
[a single red rose lays on the ground, in perfect condition.
the terror threatens to overwhelm them, a desperate plea - and then violence. a familiar, warm bloodlust, almost friendly. it's a terrible mix, terror and the urge to kill everything in sight.]
[WOW??? LADY??? ITS JUST A ROSE??? Anyways, lifting their gun and wrench hands instantly to their ears, cowering. They're probably staining one of their ears red with blood. It's fine! It's fine.]
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[...Actually just going to put their phone in the waistband of their pants (YES THEY WEAR PANTS UNDER THE ROBES) so now they have a wrench AND a gun.]
[Also time to check out the bedside table! Anything there?]
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there's nothing in the bedside table other than more pencils and another bible.
... there's also skittering noise coming from under the bed.]
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[Yeah, they will laugh at religion. Why not? And what is that noise?]
Mmm, something here? [They move backwards away from the bed, looking at it with wide eyes, wrench held aloft.] I can't say I like when guests invite themselves to my company.
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Awww. There, there. Are you lonely?
[Douman. Just squats down, tone soothing, like yeah they still have the wrench and the glock in hand, but its definitely not shown as anything threatening.]
Are you lost, young one?
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there's more wobbly cry sounds, until they're abruptly cut off.
douman will feel something with way too many legs scrabble up their back and use it like a launchpad.]
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[But okay now, that is WAY too close for comfort, even though things with many legs are great in their book, usually - they stand up and whip around with a slight snarl, because hey, you need to ask PERMISSION for launchpad privileges, buddy!]
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there is, however, something tugging at their hand. with like, a lot of teeth. actually, it's biting them, and yanking down.]
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[I don't know which hand the thing is dragging down, but regardless of whether its glock or wrench, Douman, attempting to pull back from being yanked, swiftly brings it down with their other hand, hoping to hit whatever is biting them with a hard blow.]
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they swing down, and - like, there's nothing there, but they do connect with something solid. it makes a sound like a plush toy being squeaked, and lets go. unfortunately it's going to take a huge chunk of the meat of douman's hand with it. rude of it.
now there's just silence!]
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[Wow, that's a wound! That's fine, though. Douman grits their teeth, looking down at their hand. It definitely hurts, but...]
[They lick at some of the blood dripping from it. Its fine. Everything is fine.]
[They turn and decide to exit the room, using their other hand to open the door and decide to move to 401 instead. RUDE ASS CURSED DOLLS]
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it's fine, anyway. they exit the room without further incident, and head to room 401. it opens easily enough! it's just... a place. it's a place! a familiar place.]
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[Douman has not been physically present in this space, but they are able to recognize it, especially with the logo emblazoned on some of the white walls. They walk down the hallway, dripping blood behind them.]
Hahaha. Wasn't this destroyed? Dear me. The folly of humanity...what a monument to that! Ahaha...
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this space seems claustrophobic. distorted, a little. time doesn't feel right. they walk in, and five seconds pass, and then suddenly, it feels like it's been eight hours. ten. twelve. they're still just walking, for five seconds but stretched for so, so long.
there's a flash of red at the end of the hallway.]
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[They blink. It feels...draining. They let out a huff of a laugh, the scent of blood still powerful. Walking like this in a dead place is...laughable. All laughable.]
[But the flash of red makes them snap their head up, the slow feeling replaced by sudden intrigue, surprise.]
Who's there?
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the closer they get, the more terror fills them. the fear of death, the fear of the unknown, the certain dread that something will be destroyed beyond repair. it might not be their emotion, but they feel it grasp at their lungs, freeze them up.
the red thing lays on the floor, unmoving. it doesn't seem like something alive.]
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[This terror...why terror? Aren't they the ones who create terror? What is this deep fear, that makes them tremble so...?]
[Douman bites down on their lower lip, trying to stifle the feeling. Its...just a curse! Yes! All just a curse.]
[They try to move as close as they can without shaking move their gaze down at the object. What might they see?]
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the terror threatens to overwhelm them, a desperate plea - and then violence. a familiar, warm bloodlust, almost friendly. it's a terrible mix, terror and the urge to kill everything in sight.]
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[This terror...and this bloodlust...ah, how familiar, just how wonderfully familiar-!]
Ahahaha! Ahahahahahaha!! Making me experience what I already have, huh, with your damned curse on top!! Haha! What a laugh!!!
[With a wide, tooth-filled grin, Douman moves to smash the rose with the sole of their clown shoe.]
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he smushes it. are you happy? the rose is now smushed, and they have the sense that they just ruined something important to someone.]
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If you mean to curse me to make me feel things such as these, then do not care to throw your valuables at my feet. Haha!
[But they will just stare at it for a moment like the idiot cat they are, just seeing if anything else will happen.]
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also, there's just the sound of a woman screaming in pain in their ears. enjoy that, i'm sure they will, and not in a sarcastic way.]
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[WOW??? LADY??? ITS JUST A ROSE??? Anyways, lifting their gun and wrench hands instantly to their ears, cowering. They're probably staining one of their ears red with blood. It's fine! It's fine.]
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they're just standing here at the end of this hallway with a smushed rose.]
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cw: eye gore (heis don't interact)
cw: eye gore
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cw: eye gore
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