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colleendoran · 1 year ago

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Great Big Good Omens Graphic Novel Update

AKA A Visit From Bildad the Shuhite.

The past year or so has been one long visit from this guy, whereupon he smiteth my goats and burneth my crops, woe unto the woeful cartoonist.

Gaze upon the horror of Bildad the Shuhite.

You kind of have to be a Good Omens fan to get this joke, but trust me, it's hilarious.

Anyway, as a long time Good Omens novel fan, you may imagine how thrilled I was to get picked to adapt the graphic novel.

Go me!

This is quite a task, I have to say, especially since I was originally going to just draw (and color) it, but I ended up writing the adaptation as well. Tricky to fit a 400 page novel into a 160-ish page graphic novel, especially when so much of the humor is dependent on the language, and not necessarily on the visuals.

Not complainin', just sayin'.

Anyway, I started out the gate like a herd of turtles, because right away I got COVID which knocked me on my butt.

And COVID brain fog? That's a thing. I already struggle with brain fog due to autoimmune disease, and COVID made it worse.

Not complainin' just sayin'.

This set a few of the assignments on my plate back, which pushed starting Good Omens back.

But hey, big fat lead time! No worries!

Then my computer crawled toward the grave.

My trusty MAC Pro Tower was nearly 15 years old when its sturdy heart ground to a near-halt with daily crashes. I finally got around to doing some diagnostics; some of its little brain actions were at 5% functionality. I had no reliable backups.

There are so many issues with getting a new computer when you haven't had a new computer or peripherals in nearly fifteen years and all of your software, including your Photoshop program is fifteen years old.

At the time, I was still on rural internet...which means dial-up speed.

Whatever you have for internet in the city, roll that clock back to about 2001.

That's what I had. I not only had to replace almost all of my hardware but I had to load and update all programs at dial-up speed.

Welcome to my gigabyte hell.

The entire process of replacing the equipment and programs took weeks and then I had to relearn all the software.

All of this was super expensive in terms of money and time cost.

But I was not daunted! Nosirree!

I still had a huge lead time! I can do anything! I have an iron will!

And boy, howdy, I was going to need it.

At about the same time, a big fatcat quadrillionaire client who had hired me years ago to develop a big, major transmedia project for which I was paid almost entirely in stock, went bankrupt leaving everyone holding the bag, and taking a huge chunk of my future retirement fund with it.

I wrote a very snarky almost hilarious Patreon post about it, but am not entirely in a position to speak freely because I don't want to get sued. Even though I had to go to court over it, (and I had to do that over Zoom at dial-up speed,) I'm pretty sure I'll never get anything out of this drama, and neither will anyone else involved, except millionaire dude and his buddies who all walked away with huge multi-million dollar bonuses weeks before they declared bankruptcy, all the while claiming they would not declare bankruptcy.

Even the accountant got $250,000 a month to shut down the business, while creators got nothing.

That in itself was enough drama for the year, but we were only at February by that point, and with all those months left, 2023 had a lot more to throw at me.

Fresh from my return from my Society of Illustrators show, and a lovely time at MOCCA, it was time to face practical medical issues, health updates, screening, and the like. I did my adult duty and then went back to work hoping for no news, but still had a weird feeling there would be news.

I know everyone says that, but I mean it. I had a bad feeling.

Then there was news.

I was called back for tests and more tests. This took weeks. The ubiquitous biopsy looked, even to me staring at the screen in real time, like bad news.

It also hurt like a mofo after the anesthesia wore off. I wasn't expecting that.

Then I got the official bad news.

Cancer which runs in my family finally got me. Frankly, I was surprised I didn't get it sooner.

Stage 0, and treatment would likely be fast and complication-free. Face the peril, get it over with, and get back to work.

I requested surgery months in the future so I could finish Good Omens first, but my doc convinced me the risk of waiting was too great. Get it done now.

"You're really healthy," my doc said. Despite an auto-immune issue which plagues me, I am way healthier than the average schmoe of late middle age. She informed me I would not even need any chemo or radiation if I took care of this now.

So I canceled my appearance at San Diego Comic Con. I did not inform the Good Omens team of my issues right away, thinking this would not interfere with my work schedule, but I did contact my agent to inform her of the issue. I also contacted a lawyer to rewrite my will and make sure the team had access to my digital files in case there were complications.

Then I got back to work, and hoped for the best.

Eff this guy.

Before I could even plant my carcass on the surgery table, I got a massive case of ocular shingles.

I didn't even know there was such a thing.

There I was, minding my own business. I go to bed one night with a scratchy eye, and by 4 PM the next day, I was in the emergency room being told if I didn't get immediate specialist treatment, I was in big trouble.

I got transferred to another hospital and got all the scary details, with the extra horrid news that I could not possibly have cancer surgery until I was free of shingles, and if I did not follow a rather brutal treatment procedure - which meant super-painful eye drops every half hour, twenty-four hours a day and daily hospital treatment - I could lose the eye entirely, or be blinded, or best case scenario, get permanent eye damage.

What was even funnier (yeah, hilarity) is the drops are so toxic if you don't use the medication just right, you can go blind anyway.

Hi Ho.

Ulcer is on the right. That big green blob.

I had just finished telling my cancer surgeon I did not even really care about getting cancer, was happy it was just stage zero, had no issues with scarring, wanted no reconstruction, all I cared about was my work.

Just cut it out and get me back to work.

And now I wondered if I was going to lose my ability to work anyway.

Shingles often accompanies cancer because of the stress on the immune system, and yeah, it's not pretty. This is me looking like all heck after I started to get better.

The first couple of weeks were pretty demoralizing as I expected a straight trajectory to wellness. But it was up and down all the way.

Some days I could not see out of either eye at all. The swelling was so bad that I had to reach around to my good eye to prop the lid open. Light sensitivity made seeing out of either eye almost impossible. Outdoors, even with sunglasses, I had to be led around by the hand.

I had an amazing doctor. I meticulously followed his instructions, and I think he was surprised I did. The treatment is really difficult, and if you don't do it just right no matter how painful it gets, you will be sorry.

To my amazement, after about a month, my doctor informed me I had no vision loss in the eye at all. "This never happens," he said.

I'd spent a couple of weeks there trying to learn to draw in the near-dark with one eye, and in the end, I got all my sight back.

I could no longer wear contact lenses (I don't really wear them anyway, unless I'm going to the movies,) would need hard core sun protection for awhile, and the neuralgia and sun sensitivity were likely to linger. But I could get back to work.

I have never been more grateful in my life.

Neuralgia sucks, by the way, I'm still dealing with it months later.

Anyway, I decided to finally go ahead and tell the Good Omens team what was going on, especially since this was all happening around the time the Kickstarter was gearing up.

Now that I was sure I'd passed the eye peril, and my surgery for Stage 0 was going to be no big deal, I figured all was a go. I was still pretty uncomfortable and weak, and my ideal deadline was blown, but with the book not coming out for more than a year, all would be OK. I quit a bunch of jobs I had lined up to start after Good Omens, since the project was going to run far longer than I'd planned.

Everybody on the team was super-nice, and I was pretty optimistic at this time. But work was going pretty slow during, as you may imagine.

But again...lots of lead time still left, go me.

Then I finally got my surgery.

Which was not as happy an experience as I had been hoping for.

My family said the doc came out of the operating room looking like she'd been pulled backwards through a pipe, She informed them the tumor which looked tiny on the scan was "...huge and her insides are a mess."

Which was super not fun news.

Eff this guy.

The tumor was hiding behind some dense tissue and cysts. After more tests, it was determined I'd need another surgery and was going to have to get further treatments after all.

The biopsy had been really painful, but the discomfort was gone after about a week, so no biggee. The second surgery was, weirdly, not as painful as the biopsy, but the fatigue was big time.

By then, the Good Omens Kickstarter had about run its course, and the record-breaker was both gratifying and a source of immense social pressure.

I'd already turned most of my social media over to an assistant, and I'm glad I did.

But the next surgery was what really kicked me on my keister.

All in all, they took out an area the size of a baseball. It was hard to move and wiped me out for weeks and weeks. I could not take care of myself. I'd begun losing hair by this time anyway, and finally just lopped it off since it was too heavy for me to care for myself. The cut hides the bald spots pretty well.

After about a month, I got the go-ahead to travel to my show at the San Diego Comic Con Museum (which is running until the first week of April, BTW). I was very happy I had enough energy to do it. But as soon as I got back, I had to return to treatment.

Since I live way out in the country, going into the city to various hospitals and pharmacies was a real challenge. I made more than 100 trips last year, and a drive to the compounding pharmacy which produced the specialist eye medicine I could not get anywhere else was six hours alone.

Naturally, I wasn't getting anything done during this time.

But at least my main hospital is super swank.

The oncology treatment went smoothly, until it didn't. The feels don't hit you until the end. By then I was flattened.

So flattened that I was too weak to control myself, fell over, and smashed my face into some equipment.

Nearly tore off my damn nostril.

Eff this guy.

Anyway, it was a bad year.

Here's what went right.

I have a good health insurance policy. The final tally on my health care costs ended up being about $150,000. I paid about 18% of that, including insurance. I had a high deductible and some experimental medicine insurance didn't cover. I had savings, enough to cover the months I wasn't working, and my Patreon is also very supportive. So you didn't see me running a Gofundme or anything.

Thanks to everyone who ever bought one of my books.

No, none of that money was Good Omens Kickstarter money. I won't get most of my pay on that for months, which is just as well because it kept my taxes lower last year when I needed a break.

So, yay.

My nose is nearly healed. I opted out of plastic surgery, and it just sealed up by itself. I'll never be ready for my closeup, but who the hell cares.

I got to ring the bell.

I had a very, VERY hard time getting back to work, especially with regard to focus and concentration. My work hours dropped by over 2/3. I was so fractured and weak, time kept slipping away while I sat in the studio like a zombie. Most of the last six months were a wash.

I assumed focus issues were due (in part) to stress, so sought counseling. This seemed like a good idea at first, but when the counselor asked me to detail my issues with anxiety, I spent two weeks doing just that and getting way more anxious, which was not helpful.

After that I went EFF THIS NOISE, I want practical tools, not touchy feelies (no judgment on people who need touchy-feelies, I need a pragmatic solution and I need it now,) so tried using the body doubling focus group technique for concentration and deep work.

Within two weeks, I returned to normal work hours.

I got rural broadband, jumping me from dial up speed to 1 GB per second.

It's a miracle.

Massive doses of Vitamin D3 and K2. Yay.

The new computer works great.

The Kickstarter did so well, we got to expand the graphic novel to 200 pages. Double yay.

I'm running late, but everyone on the Good Omens team is super supportive. I don't know if I am going to make the book late or not, but if I do, well, it surely wasn't on purpose, and it won't be super late anyway. I still have months of lead time left.

I used to be something of a social media addict, but now I hardly ever even look at it, haven't been directly on some sites in over a year, and no longer miss it. It used to seem important and now doesn't.

More time for real life.

While I think the last year aged me about twenty years, I actually like me better with short hair. I'm keeping it.

OK. Rough year.

Not complainin', just sayin'.

Back to work on The Book.

And only a day left to vote for Good Omens, Neil Gaiman, and Sandman in the Comicscene Awards. Thanks.

#good omens graphic novel #good omens #terry pratchett #neil gaiman #dunmanifestin

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shmorp-mcdurgen · 2 years ago

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TMC Home Sweet Home AU: Barotrauma

Adam Murray and Jonah Marshall take a call about a possible cat spirit inhabiting a Home in Mandela. However, Adam begins to become...strangely fascinated with the House itself.

TW: Blood/gore/body horror, toxic friendships, manipulation, mild drug use, possession, violence.

Notes: HSH VOLUME 2!!! This one is. longer than the prologue, being close to 15′400 words long, so. a long read. However, I believe that it’s worth the read, so. hope you enjoy!

@anotherr-side

January 12th, 2009. 2 PM

Adam was already tired of driving.

He stared forward at the frosty road in front of him, his blue eyes blank and devoid of emotion. An hour-long drive between their base in Bythorne has never felt so long, yet with every second Adam could feel his soul dying from boredom. The music on the radio only helped somewhat at making the drive less tedious, though only barely. He recognized most of the songs as ones he’s heard before, with a few of them feeling like cheese graters being used on his ears due to how many times they’ve played on the radio. Despite wanting to shut the radio off however, Adam hated the silence more. He’d take shitty, overused music over pure, all-encompassing silence any time.

Adam wore a black hoodie over his thin body, its hood pulled up over his head and partially covering his pale brown, curly hair. Three bold yellow letters, “BPS”, were on the left side of his chest, along as across his back. His cold, pale hands grasped onto the steering wheel, the cool air of winter making him wish he remembered to bring his gloves instead of leaving them on the dresser. He had a silver lip ring, along with black chain-link earrings, partially covered by his hood. Along with the missing gloves, Adam began to wish he wore normal jeans, instead of the ripped jeans he normally wore. He glanced towards Jonah, who was sleeping in the passenger seat, seeing he had thought ahead, wearing both a white sweatshirt and a black leather jacket to keep him warm.

Jonah was leaned against the window with his arms crossed in front of him, snoring quietly as faint, muffled music came from the Walkman’s headphones over his ears. His silver hair had its original black roots visible, it being pressed down by his headphones. He had tanned skin, his cheeks becoming red from the cold air. He had a silver nose ring, along with more earrings that were covered by the headphones. He wore simple jeans and red high-top shoes over his thin legs, which were crossed in front of him. He looked pretty deep in sleep, though at least it meant he wouldn’t bother Adam with dull jokes and “totally real” stories.

Adam sighed deeply, staring forward and through the windshield, seeing the white snow on the sides of the roads and the grey road. He was beginning to think of how tired he was of seeing nothing but snow-covered fields and trees until he saw something on the side of the road. It was a frost covered green sign, it’s lettering visible enough to read “Welcome to Mandela Cty. WI!”

“Fucking finally…” Adam muttered under his breath. He turned towards Jonah for a second before focusing back on the road, all before smacking Jonah’s arm with the back of his hand. “Wake up, Jackass, we’re here.”

Jonah was startled awake, sliding his headphones off before staring at Adam with a half-awake stare, all before rubbing his eyes. “Dude…how long was I out?”

“Since we left.”

“Oh. Cool.” Jonah stretched his arms, sighing as he looked outside his window. “So…how much longer ‘till we get there?”

“Less than 20 minutes, probably.” Adam said. “By the way…you got money for gas?”

“…huh?”

“We’re running low on gas, do you have money?” Adam asked again with a tinge of impatience.

Jonah remained silent.

“…Jonah.”

“Okay fine, fuck.” Jonah groaned, pulling out a few dollar bills from his pants pocket. “I got 15 bucks.”

“15?” Adam questioned. “You literally only have 15 on you?”

“Yeah.”

“For fucks sake.” Adam stated. “You were supposed to save that.”

“Hey, get off my back, why does it even matter?” Jonah responded.

“Let me guess, you spent the rest on fucking weed didn’t you.” Adam stated.

Jonah didn’t respond, looking away for a second.

“…You did?!” Adam questioned.

“…You…want any?” Jonah grabbed the backpack sitting by his foot, unzipping it slightly.

Adam responded with a tired, exasperated sigh. “Jonah I swear to God, I’m going to murder you one day.”

“Look man, shit’s stressful at times.” Jonah defended.

“If we get pulled over, I’m going to throw you under a bus.”

“Look man, since when did you care anyway?” Jonah asked. “It’s my money.”

“Yeah, sure, your money. Money that was supposed to go to the group, but you took for yourself.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.” Jonah stated, an air of frustration coming from him as he stared at Adam.

“Whatever dude, just…we’ll figure that shit out after this, okay?”

Jonah sighed, looking out of the window as they drove into town. “…Alrighty.”

Adam felt his mood lighten when they finally made it to town, pulling over into the first gas station they saw. Adam parked next to one of the gas pumps, seeing Jonah immediately hop out of the van, Adam lagging behind before exiting the vehicle too. He stretched his thin and lanky arms and legs before walking around the car to see Jonah leaning against the side of the van, partially covering the lazily written “BPS” logo spray-painted in black on the white metal. “Hey…how much money…do you really need for gas?” Jonah asked as Adam took out some of his money, along with the 15 dollars Jonah gave him. Adam simply looked back at him with a confused gaze.

“Probably…twenty? Twenty-five?” He said, looking down at the cash in his hands, adding up to around 35 dollars.

“So why’d you need my money?”

“I’m not letting you skimp out on paying for gas again.”

“Hm.” Jonah looked away, shuddering slightly due to the cold. He glanced back at Adam, seeing that he was unfazed by the chill, frosty air, even though he was wearing less. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Yeah, it’s fucking freezing.” Adam stated, brushing past Jonah to start refueling the van.

“…You don’t act like it.”

“What, you want me to shake or something?” Adam forced a shudder. “It doesn’t bother me as much, what else do you want me to say?”

Jonah looked towards the convenience store next to the fuel pumps, seeing that it was open before looking at Adam. “You mind giving me back ten bucks?”

“…For…?”

“Look, if we’re staying for three days, we better get some snacks.” Jonah held out his hand. “Ten bucks and I’ll get us some chips.”

Adam stared at his hand before rolling his eyes, reluctantly slapping the rest of the money in his hand onto Jonah’s. “I swear dude, don’t buy anything stupid. Snacks, and that’s it.”

“Fine, fuck.” Jonah said as he backed away before turning to walk to the store. “Jeez…”

Adam stared at the gas pump in his hand, waiting until it was done before returning it to its base and grabbing his receipt, promptly crumpling it into a ball and throwing it to the side. He sighed, leaning against the passenger side door before crossing his arms in front of him. He leaned his head back, the back of his skull hitting the window with a soft thunk before he closed his eyes. He felt the wind blowing across his pale face, snowflakes getting stuck in his hair as he stood still, waiting for Jonah to return with the snacks.

“Hey, Adam.”

“Hmm?” Adam opened his eyes, looking to his right where he heard Jonah’s voice, expecting him to be back to either ask him for something, or bother him for more money. He blinked a few times, confused at the sight of nothing but a snow-covered parking lot and the store. He furrowed his brows, turning to his left only to see more of the same, seeing the road where the scarce car would pass by. He stared on in a concerned confusion, feeling as if someone was watching him even though no one was there, even causing the hair on his neck to stand on edge. He stared forward, only to see something in his peripheral vision, his eyes widening slightly. He could see half of a head peeking out from the back of the van, causing him to snap his attention towards his right again, stepping away as he saw nothing there. He stared at it, his dull blue eyes not blinking once until he heard something again.

“Hey, Adam.”

He turned towards the store, seeing Jonah carrying a bag of various snacks in his arms. “…Adam?”

“Hey…” Adam muttered.

“You alright, dude?” Jonah asked as he slid the van’s side door open, throwing in the bag of food. “You look kinda—”

“I’m fine.” Adam said, avoiding eye contact before turning around to walk around the van. “Let’s get going. We have a job to do.”

Adam remained silent as he drove through town, remembering the turns he was supposed to make, and the address the caller stated as he traversed through Mandela. Jonah was also strangely silent; holding his head up with his hand as he boredly stared out his window as he listened to the music from his headphones. Adam glanced at the street sign on one of the corners of the intersection he found himself in: Wisteria Avenue. Adam pulled over to the side of the road, parking right outside of the neighborhood, seeing that it was gated off and locked with a chain. Jonah stared at it before looking back towards Adam. “…So?”

“Well, the house is in there I’m pretty sure.” Adam stated. “It’s the same street that lady told us to go to.”

“Well, do…we have bolt cutters?” Jonah asked.

“I think we do, in the back.” Adam unbuckled his seat belt, opening his door and opening the side door. He looked around the messy van, pushing over bags and camera equipment before grabbing the pair of bolt cutters that was buried under it all. As Adam approached the gate to break the lock, Jonah remained in the van, listening as the song playing from his old Walkman began to fade out. The next song was going to be an old 90’s pop song; he knew that for certain. He had listened to that tape for years, ever since he bought it when he was a teen. However, when it began playing, it didn’t start with plucky synths or drums. It began with an electric guitar, the audio quality of which being oddly worse than the rest of the songs on the cassette.

Jonah’s brows furrowed as he listened closely, not even paying attention to Adam’s struggles with the bolt cutter as he heard the 80’s rock song playing on his headphones. The guitar and drums continued before the lyrics began.

“Like the wind…”

He couldn’t make out the rest, it sounding vaguely like the singer was speaking English, yet…not quite right. He never even heard of the song before, knowing it was never in any of his cassettes. Was he remembering it wrong? Did he accidentally skip this song every time he’s listened to this cassette? Why couldn’t he make out the lyrics? It sounded like a song his mind came up with to be background music in a dream of his, only barely remembering it when he woke up, yet there he was, listening to it clear as day. His confusion grew until Adam opened the driver’s side door, entering the van before tossing the bolt cutter into the back of the van. Adam looked towards Jonah, appearing confused before he started speaking.

“What’s up with you?” He asked, noticing Jonah’s strange expression.

“Uh…” Jonah took off his headphones, handing them over to Adam. “You know this song?”

Adam placed the headphones over his ears, listening intently for a few moments before sighing. “Some…generic 80’s song?” He said. “…It’s over anyway; it just went to the next song.”

“N-No, like…I’ve never had that song on this tape.” Jonah said as Adam returned the headphones.

“So?”

“So…don’t you think that’s weird?”

“I don’t know dude.” Adam said. “The gates open so…guess we should get going.”

The entire neighborhood was completely barren as they slowly drove down the cracked road, the eerie silence making Jonah’s hair stand on end. It felt as though it was soulless, devoid of all life, with every single house on the street being dark and dead, long since abandoned. Jonah wanted to start small talk, asking Adam about how he felt about everything, though his throat felt tight for a reason he didn’t know. He looked down at the Walkman and the headphones with it that sat on his lap, quietly shoving them into his backpack.

“I’m surprised.” Adam stated. “Normally you’d be chickening out by now.”

“…I…no, I’m not a coward.” Jonah responded. “Besides…nothing’s even happened yet.”

Adam scoffed slightly. “You’re scared, aren’t you?”

Jonah looked at Adam, him only returning a passing glance. “No.” Jonah lied. “I’m not, actually.”

“Sure.” Adam looked down the road before glancing back at Jonah. “334, right?”

“Huh?”

“The house number.”

“Oh…yeah, I…think so.”

“Then…” Adam stopped the vehicle on the side of the road. “We’re here.”

They pulled into the driveway, the very sight of the house making a pit form in their stomachs. It was an average looking home, albeit empty, having a garage with red outer walls, a large window on the right side of the house leading into the living room, surrounded by beige bricks, and a black roof. It only had one floor, and looked like a medium-sized home. Cracks formed across small parts of the driveway, and thin roots from plants were scaling less than halfway up some of the outer walls, reaching towards the living room window. It looked painfully normal, so why did it feel so wrong?

Either way, Jonah hoped the three days would go by quickly.

Day One, 2:45 PM

Adam slid open the van’s side door, rummaging through their gear before grabbing three cameras, lightly tossing them to Jonah, who nearly dropped one of them as soon as they were all in his arms. “Put those around the house.” Adam stated. “I can set up the computer out here so we can get a live feed.”

Jonah glanced towards the house, staring at it before looking back at Adam, who was crawling into the back of the van with a laptop in hand. “Dude…can…you go do this?” Jonah asked sheepishly.

Adam glared at him with tired eyes.

“You serious?”

“Dude, come on, you’ll know where to put them—”

“I can tell you over the radio.” Adam stated. “Don’t be such a baby; I got a good feeling about this place.”

“I-I just don’t kn—”

“FINE.” Adam hopped out of the van before grabbing the cameras out of Jonah’s arms, all before grasping a bag with the cameras’ tripods in them. “I’ll go do it. You set up the computer.”

Jonah remained in stunned silence as Adam approached the house, all before Jonah sighed deeply and hesitantly sat on the edge of the van’s floor, grabbing the laptop as he watched Adam disappear behind the front door. He pulled his foot up to rest on his opposite knee, turning on his laptop before letting out a breath. “‘Don’t be such a baby’ he says.” Jonah mocked under his breath. “Acting like I’m the stupid one here.” He crossed his arms, his breath clouding up in the cold air in front of him. He stared at the laptop’s screen, waiting for the cameras to connect.

The first thing Adam noticed when he walked into the House was the silence. It felt eerie, yet serene, the calm yet stagnant air making Adam feel happy that he was no longer in the cold. He turned to his right, seeing the living room, with the couch rested against the wall, with a coffee table and an old analog television resting upon it. Adam couldn’t help but feel strange seeing such a device, considering they were banned when he was little. However, after hearing faint clacking and ticking from the opposite wall, he forgot how strange it was to see the Television, his attention now focusing on the grandfather clock standing tall across from it.

It nearly touched the already decently tall ceiling, making Adam guess that it was around nine feet tall from its clawed base to the wooden wings right above its clock face. Its golden pendulum swayed from behind the glass, and its black hands twitched as it kept with the time. It looked old as hell; something a grandpa would have in his house. Adam stared at the clock face with bored eyes, all before kneeling on the carpeted ground, placing his bag of tripods and the cameras onto the floor in front of him.

He found himself whistling as he attached the cameras to the tripods; a song he wasn’t familiar with, figuring his mind was simply making it up to fill the odd silence within the Home. He set up the first camera, flicking it on as he pointed it towards the living room. Jonah saw the camera appear in the feed as Adam did so, giving it a passing glance as he dug through his backpack, grabbing a lighter that was buried in the gear as he leaned against the inner wall of the van. Adam saw the light gleam from the small light of the camera, standing up and grabbing the other cameras off of the ground as he walked out of the living room, the ticking of the clock continuing as he passed through the house.

He found himself in the kitchen, seeing the floor’s tiles were stained, with a substance Adam wasn’t able to identify. The counters appeared decently clean however, with everything seemingly untouched, yet still appearing to be used at the same time. It was as if the family that used to live there never left. It felt so familiar, as if he had been there before despite never seeing the house in his life. He knew it wasn’t anywhere close to how he vaguely remembered his own house looking from his foggy childhood, yet somehow it felt just as Homey. After shaking off the thought, Adam pushed forward, realizing he still had more to look at in the old House.

Adam stared at the back hallway in front of him, seeing one door to the right and one dead ahead; it felt oddly short for a hallway, especially considering that there seemed to be more room than needed for it. He looked up at the left wall, seeing a strange dark splotch near the top corner, assuming it to be water damage before he placed a camera down at the entrance of the hallway, pointing it towards the one door to the right. He looked through the doorway, seeing that it was a bedroom of some kind, with a queen-sized bed in the middle of the room and a closet to the right of it. Nothing of interest so far. Not even a sign of the cat they came there for aside from the empty pet bed he saw next to the clock. What a great waste of time.

Adam passed through the House with an annoyed expression, his jaw clenched as he thought of how stupid it was that he was setting up cameras for an empty House, just in case he saw a ghost cat. Was the lady on the phone a compete nutcase? As he thought to himself he glanced to the other side of the living room, eyes widening slightly. There was a door next to the hallway leading to the kitchen, with an upright piano right beside it, along with a few bookshelves. The door however caught Adam’s attention, despite it looking like every other white, boring door in the House. He placed the final camera, pointing it towards the door before he walked towards it.

He placed a hand on the doorknob, attempting to open it to no avail; locked. The metal was strangely warm, despite the air being cool within the room. It smelled strangely sour near the door as well, making Adam back away and shake his head, taking one glance back at the clock before turning towards the front door.

Something hit his head.

Adam felt something be dropped onto his head before falling in his peripheral vision, landing on the carpet with a soft thud. Adam placed his hand on his hood-covered head before looking down to see what had fell, assuming it to be a piece of the ceiling from the age of the building. However, instead he saw a rusted metal key, sticking out from the shaggy carpet. Adam crouched down, lightly grabbing it with a few of his fingers. He stared at it, turning it around in his hand. Its edges appeared to have been dulled, and whatever was written on it has long since worn away. Adam stood up, staring at the strangely misshapen key as a face peered at him halfway from the hallway behind him. A key? Why would a key be stuck in the roof? He shoved it into his hoodie pocket, deciding to grab his camera from the van and head back in; Jonah better have set the camera system up, otherwise he was getting his ass kicked.

When he made his way outside, Adam was greeted with smoke coming out of the back of the van, sighing when he approached it. He found the source of the smoke; Jonah smoking a joint with the laptop beside him. “You got it working?” Adam asked, trying to ignore the smell.

“Uh, yeah, look.” Jonah pushed the computer towards Adam as he crawled into the van, sitting down as he stared at the camera feeds in front of him.

“Okay, good. You are making sure it’s recording, right?”

“Yeah, I did,” Jonah coughed. “Should be all ready to go.”

Adam nodded before turning around grabbing the camera he saw peeking out from underneath their makeshift bedding. “I’m gonna go back in and get some pics, alright?” Adam stated. “Keep an eye on the cameras, and…” He stared at Jonah, who was coughing smoke out. “…Don’t get high out of your mind alright? We need to be focused for this shit.”

“Aye aye, shitface.”

Adam didn’t respond with anything more than an eye roll as he crawled out of the van, shutting the door behind him.

Adam snapped a photo of the back hallway, more specifically the large, off-colored blotch in the wallpaper. He looked at the photo on the camera’s screen before turning towards the door in front of him. He stared at the closed door before reaching towards the door knob, though once again, it didn’t budge. In fact, it didn’t even move a millimeter, as if it and the door it was attached to was one complete thing. He sighed in disappointment before grabbing the radio attached to his belt before turning it on. “Another locked door.” He stated.

“…Really?” Jonah asked, his voice partially cloaked by the static of the radio. “Couldn’t you just. Kick it down or something?”

“I’m not gonna bust down a random lady’s door.” Adam stated.

“Alright. Your loss then.”

Adam turned around, walking out of the hallway and back through the House, finding himself in the living room once again. He looked at his camera, cycling through the multiple photos of the house he took before looking towards the piano in the corner, holding the camera up to his eye, lining the picture up, and taking a picture.

Click.

GONG.

The sound of the Clock’s bells made Adam swing around in shock to look at it, his eyes staring at it before he let out his breath. “It’s four already?” He asked himself when he saw the time. “Ugh.” Adam looked at the photo of the piano, letting out an annoyed groan when he saw that it was blurry from the sudden motion. He turned towards the piano once again, though when he held up the camera, he paused. He stood still as he slowly lowered the camera, turning back towards the grandfather clock as he heard its quiet ticks. He glanced at the digital camera in his hands before pointing it towards the clock.

Click.

11:23 PM

That night, Adam laid across the floor of the van, with a thin layer of blankets and a pillow being the only padding between him and the cold metal. He stared up at the roof of the van, the orange light from above shining down on him. He smoked a cigarette as he listened to Jonah laugh at his own jokes and stories, leaning back in the passenger side seat with his legs propped up on the dashboard. As he spoke the retelling of a story he overheard, he began speaking in a more sinister tone, as if he was telling a campfire story.

“Like…it’s so hard to remember but I’m pretty sure after that, the dude just…up and disappeared.” Jonah said. “Gone like the wind. Who knows, maybe he’s still out there somewhere, ready to kill again…”

“You are…the worst storyteller…ever.” Adam stated. “That is not at all what happened, and you know it.”

“Well, how did it go then, genius?” Jonah asked. “The dude went crazy, murdered this other dude then fucking vanished. Sounds like some ghost story people tell their kids to make them not go into the woods at night.”

“Yeah, but there’s gotta be more to it than that, right?” Adam said, taking a hit from his cigarette. “People don’t just…go insane randomly.”

“Yeah but…that guy did.” Jonah smiled lightheartedly, despite the unease in his eyes when he looked back at Adam.

“Mhmm. You can think that.” Adam put out his cigarette on the metal wall of the van before resting his hands on his stomach.

Jonah stared at the house in front of him, it barely visible through the nightly darkness and the snow gathering on the windshield. He felt a pit in his gut as he stared at the front door, all before looking through the rearview mirror, towards Adam. “…Wasn’t…this house the one that dude went insane in?” Jonah asked pensively. “Or…one like it? What if that’s the reason this neighborhood was closed off?”

“You aren’t seriously scared of some ghost story, are you?” Adam smirked. “It’s an empty house, bro. I looked through every part I could; there was nothing there.”

“Yeah…I…guess.”

There was silence for a moment, the quiet only making the pressure in Jonah’s chest all the more noticeable. He leaned back in his seat, brows furrowing as he rubbed the lapel of his leather jacket.

“Why did you even take this job?”

Jonah glanced at the rearview mirror, seeing that Adam was sitting up, pushing away the empty pizza box that was next to him. He looked directly at Jonah through the mirror, his expression mostly blank, yet with an air of annoyance.

“I…why do you ask?” Jonah questioned.

“You’ve been bitching and whining since we got here.” Adam stated. “If you’re so scared of ghosts, then why did you decide to join a ghost hunting group?”

Jonah remained silent, the question hanging in the air like a foul stench.

“At the very least, you could take this shit seriously, you know—”

“I do.”

Adam’s eyes widened ever so slightly before turning into a skeptical glare. “Right. So your definition of ‘taking things seriously’ is sitting in the van, smoking weed, and acting like a complete wuss?” Adam questioned. “I’ve been doing all the work while you goof off.”

“Look man, I just…I don’t like this shit.” Jonah stated, looking towards the house. “Something just does…not feel right here. Like. I looked at the footage and…despite nothing being super wrong, it just feels…off. Weird.”

“Look, we’re only gonna be here for three days, alright?” Adam stated. “Then, we’re out of here and we never have to look for a stupid ghost cat ever again. Besides, tomorrow, the real shit’s gonna happen.”

“…I don’t…Adam.” Jonah rubbed his shoulders. “I don’t wanna tell you what to do but…don’t you think you should be more…careful?”

Adam remained silent, his hard glare slightly waning.

“You just…run in as if nothings…wrong.” Jonah choked out, as if he was scared to say what he was trying to say. “You’ve acted so…shitty the whole trip, and now you’re just…ignoring the clearly weird feeling about this place?”

“Look, it’s not my fault that you refuse to do your job.” Adam stated. “I’m just trying to do mine.”

“Yeah, but don’t you think that maybe, just maybe, your wuss of a friend has a point?” Jonah replied. “…I don’t like this place…and something tells me even you feel that something’s up here, but you refuse to even acknowledge it.”

“Yeah. I do.” Adam said. “But that’s what makes this more interesting. Who knows what’s going on with this place?”

Jonah stared at his feet before he sighed. “Could you at least…be…careful?” Jonah said quietly. “I’m…scared…for you.”

Adam’s brows furrowed, though his hard gaze felt less uncaring. “…why?”

“…You know…I just…” Jonah paused. “Don’t want you to get yourself killed for nothing.”

“I…I won’t.” Adam said softly. “Look, hey, if it makes you feel better, I’ll bring in my camcorder tomorrow, and film everything. That way you know exactly what’s going on and how there’s literally nothing in there.”

Jonah remained silent before turning around, seeing Adam in the eye instead of through the mirror. “Just…make this trip quick.” Jonah said.

“I will.” Adam said. “I’ll look for the stupid cat tomorrow, and if nothing happens we’ll…just fucking leave. If you so insist.”

“Really?”

“Sure.” Adam stated with a partial eye-roll. “Now go to sleep, we have shit to do tomorrow.”

“Yeah…I’ll…try.” Jonah sighed as Adam laid back down, all before he flipped the light off.

??:??

Adam awoke to the sound of static.

He was lying on his side on the cold metal floor of the van, his lukewarm breath clouding the freezing air in front of his face as he looked around, his eyes gleaming in the dark. He sat up, noticing a faint blue light shining through the windshield. He groggily looked through the glass, brows furrowing when he saw the light in the distance. Where the driveway and garage would have been was instead a long hallway, doors lining both of the walls. It was completely dark, aside from the pale blue light coming from down the hall.

Adam silently and carefully slid open the side door, stepping onto the wooden floor before stumbling in front of the van, looking back to see that it was halfway through the wall behind it, connected by thin tendrils that morphed with the wallpaper behind it. His shadow covered most of it, towering over it and flickering with the static behind him. Adam turned towards the light, eyes fixed on what the light came from: an old analog television. It was playing static, the sound of which filling the hallway, along with the sound of faint ticking in the distance. Adam didn’t call for help, or say anything at all, instead inching closer to the television as his thin fingers twitched by his side.

He stared at the television with wide eyes, pupils contracting from the light. His breathing was shallow, barely audible over the static. He looked forward at the area around the television, seeing that it was made of flesh, fusing with the wallpaper and wooden flooring, and making the ground wet and soft around it. He stared at it, lightly running his hand down the wall and pulling it back to see the mucus left on his fingers.

He paused when he heard something from the hall behind him, turning towards the darkness that seemed to stretch on forever as he listened past the increasingly loud ticking and static in his ears. Screaming; it sounded like someone was yelling something he couldn’t make out. The voice appeared reversed and faint, like a record playing the wrong way. It sounded half furious, half pained, though as much as he tried, Adam couldn’t make out any words. However, he could finally find his own.

“Hello?”

The static stopped.

His voice echoed back at him as the faint screaming faded away. Adam stared into the void, as if he was awaiting something. Silence was all that greeted him, the faint ticking he heard in the distance feeling like pin pricks in his ears. He swallowed hard, taking a step forward before stopping, seeing something in the dark; two white dots. Eyes, along with the faint outline of a featureless face, staring back at him. Adam and the figure he could barely make out in the distance remained silent until it’s choked, unused voice began to speak.

“Who are you?”

Adam awoke in a cold sweat, face down on something that was not the floor of the van he fell asleep in. His eyes flicked open, seeing that he was on top of concrete, looking up to see the front door of the House, with his arm laying right in front of it. He felt snow on his back, legs, and head, as if he had been there for a while, unmoving. He stood up, brushing the white snow off of his black hoodie as he stared at the door with a bewildered expression that soon became blank. Something finally happened. He needed to tell Jonah.

Day Two, 10:15 AM

“And you don’t think that’s…weird?”

Jonah rustled the bag of chips in his hand as he stared at Adam, who was staring at the camcorder in his hands as he fiddled with it.

“Yeah, I do.” Adam stated. “That’s what makes it interesting. I’ve never sleepwalked, yet…I think something here made me do it.”

“…How would you…be able to tell?” Jonah asked as he put a chip in his mouth. “I mean…could’ve just been a random thing that happened.”

“Yeah, but…dude, I never remember my dreams.” Adam had a faint smile on his face as he looked at Jonah, placing his camcorder into his black backpack. “But…it felt so real. There’s something up with this place, I know it.”

Jonah paused, worriedly staring at Adam before sighing. “That’s…the problem.” He muttered under his breath.

“Look, I’ll be back in like…an hour or so.” Adam said as he slid the side door open. “Keep an eye on the cameras, alright?”

“…Yeah.” Jonah glanced away. “Yeah I will.”

Adam’s smirk faded slightly when he saw Jonah staring blankly at nothing in particular, crawling out of the van before closing the door. Adam stared at the frost-covered driveway before sighing and holding his head up and walking towards the front door, throwing his backpack over his shoulder with a huff.

He swung open the front door, looking around the now familiar living room before closing the door behind him. The clock ticked quietly, its pendulum swinging from behind the glass, the rest of the living room and Adam walking around the home reflecting off of it. Adam’s boots pressed down the shaggy carpet as he walked around, all as he rummaged through his backpack, grabbing the camcorder and turning it on.

Jonah sat down in the back of the van, grabbing the old laptop before turning it on. He was greeted to the camera feed still on, seeing Adam wandering the living room from one of the cameras before picking up his radio. “Adam, you hear me?”

Adam’s radio sounded from his belt, all before he removed it and responded. “Loud and clear. You see me?” Adam turned towards the tripod facing him.

“Yep. Certainly can.” Jonah said as he watched Adam walk closer to the camera and kneel down in front of it to look into the lens. “You’re…as ugly as ever.”

“Hey, well fuck you too, dude.” Adam flipped the camera off briefly with a slight scoff. Adam stood up, turning back towards the living room, his eyes grazing over the clock before he turned towards the rest of the house.

Jonah looked towards the cameras, seeing the living room: boring, with an old ass clock, analog TV and some furniture. A locked door: a weird camera angle, considering it was most likely nothing but a closet or something. And the finally, the back hallway: a boring bedroom and another locked door. Jonah wondered what was going through Adam’s head to make him choose those of all places to place the cameras, but he supposed it didn’t matter. Besides, best case scenario, Adam was just going to get bored and leave. Jonah sighed, hoping that it would be the scenario that played out.

Adam walked into the kitchen, his camera filming the dusty counters and dining room table. Or, at least he remembered it being dusty and unused. When he stared at the counters, he noticed, that they were…pristine. The counter was organized, with everything on top of it being neatly placed. The dining room table had a small candle holder in the middle of it, along with small table dressing around it. It was as if someone was preparing for a fancy dinner, for a house party perhaps. Adam held the radio up to his mouth as he filmed, all before speaking. “Hey, Jonah, the kitchen’s clean.”

“…Yeah? What do you mean?” Jonah asked.

“Like…it’s clean, as if someone just deep cleaned the place.” Adam elaborated. “…Smells…like…soap.”

Jonah remained silent, brows furrowing as he swallowed a lump in his throat. “…Y-You don’t think…maybe the woman cleaned like…right before we got here?”

“It was covered in dust when I was in here yesterday.”

Jonah felt a brief sinking in his chest. “…Alright…just…be careful, alright?”

“I will.” Adam lowered the radio, his own brows furrowed as he stared at nothing in particular.

Jonah stared at the camera feeds, leaning back until his head lightly hit the side of the van. The pressure in his chest was ever present, a looming dread creeping into his mind. He glanced to the side, seeing his own backpack, searching through it before grabbing a small paper bag, along with rolling paper as he waited for his radio to sound again. Maybe if he smoked for a second, he would relax enough to focus; after all, isn’t that what Adam wanted him to do? As he looked away to roll another joint, the camera feed flickered slightly, the back hallway camera shutting off as he remained oblivious.

Adam walked around filming as he got a grasp of the layout within the House. He wandered in and out of rooms and halls, filming everything that even remotely piqued his interest. He remained silent, sighing slightly when he found himself back in the living room despite swearing he was just in one of the bedrooms. He must’ve remembered it wrong, he thought. He turned towards a door to his right, seeing the camera pointed towards it. He stared at it for a moment before reaching towards the door handle. It was the same; somewhat warm, and locked, however, he couldn’t help but scrunch his nose at a faint sour smell coming from it. He shook his head in disappointment before holding up his radio.

“Jonah, I’ve got nothing, you see anything on the cams?”

Jonah coughed, choking on his own saliva and the smoke from his joint. “U-uh, no, nothing’s…out of the ordinary.” Jonah stated, not even looking at the cameras. “Now can we leave? It’s cold out here.”

Adam let out a deep, frustrated groan. “Fine. Fuck.”

Jonah smiled. “Alright, now let’s get some pizza or something, I’m starving.”

“We just had…whatever, sure.” Adam shook his head, lowering his radio with a look of disappointment plastered on his face. Nothing. Fucking great.

Jonah placed his radio onto the floor beside him as he looked towards the camera feed, grazing over the three cameras with a tired look in his eyes. Living room: Boring, clock, couch and TV. Locked door: still locked, and still meaningless. Back hallway bedroom: Empty hallway, and a boring…room.

It was a smaller bedroom than Jonah remembered. A twin sized bed in the corner, a messy desk right beside it with an old computer resting on top of it. The bedroom was a complete mess, the floor covered in food wrappers, games from the game console sitting in front of a CRT TV, and dirty clothes being only among the junk Jonah saw. There were posters on the walls, though he couldn’t make out exactly what was on them. However, the room felt so…familiar.

“Is…that…” Jonah mumbled to himself under his breath. He stared at the camera feed, eyes widening as his memories flooded back, making his heart sink at the realization.

That was a child’s bedroom.

That was his childhood bedroom.

Jonah shakily grabbed his radio, holding it up to his mouth as he gathered his words. “Adam, you hear me?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” Adam said as he grazed his hand over the keys of the piano.

“Go to the back hallway, cam 3.”

“…The…back hallway?” Adam repeated. “Why?”

“Just go there.” Jonah stated. “S-Something…it…it changed.”

“…What?”

“Just go check, please.”

Adam couldn’t help but smile slightly as he turned his camera back on, jogging back across the house, through the kitchen, and into the back hallway. The camera sat in the middle of it, pointed towards one of the bedrooms, and as Adam approached it, he began to wonder what he’d see: an alternate? A new object of some kind? Something else entirely? Adam peeked his head into the doorway, only to have his smile smacked off of his face.

“Jonah…the fuck are you talking about?”

“…What?” Jonah asked, seeing that Adam was blocking the camera.

“It’s a fucking bedroom, dude.” Adam stated. “…Woohoo. So cool.”

Jonah remained quiet as Adam walked out of the way and out of the hall, seeing that the bedroom was back to its normal self, with the queen sized bed, nightstands and all. “Don’t fucking get my hopes up like that, dude.” Adam said as Jonah stared at the camera feed in disbelief.

“N-No, but…I saw it, I…fuck, we’ll play back the footage,” Jonah sputtered. “I know what I saw.”

“Oh yeah? And what was that, a fly?” Adam scoffed. “Or like a spider or something?”

“No, it—the entire room changed,” Jonah attempted to explain. “It was…it was my bedroom, back from when I was a kid—”

Adam glanced back at the bedroom, not noticing anything strange with it as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are…you fucking high again?”

“Adam, what?” Jonah exhaled. “Weed isn’t fucking hallucinogenic, you know this—”

“Yeah, I guess, but dude, are you sure, like…you for sure saw the room change?”

Jonah stared at the floor for a second; was he, or did he just imagine it? “I…Come back to the van, we’ll look over the footage, okay?”

“Alright, fine.” Adam sighed as he put his radio away. “If this is some sort of stunt to make us leave I’ll kick your ass.”

Jonah was standing outside of the van when Adam left the house, a look of relief on Jonah’s face when he saw him. “O-Okay, so, I know everything recorded, all we need to do is rewind—”

“I know how to do it, Jonah,” Adam stated as he brushed past Jonah. “Let me take a look at it.”

Adam crawled into the van as Jonah followed, seeing Adam placing the computer onto his lap. Jonah waited in worry as Adam began to skim through the footage, his eyes grazing across the camera feeds blankly as he did so. He didn’t believe Jonah; Jonah could feel it. Hell, even Jonah himself was beginning to doubt if he truly knew what he was talking about. He stared at Adam, watching as he lightly bit his lip and lip piercing in anticipation.

“…Y…you…uh…” Jonah hesitated. “…You don’t…believe me, do you…?”

Adam stopped, staring at the bedroom camera with the same blank expression he’s had for a few minutes. “…I don’t know…” He muttered under his breath. He glanced at the frozen footage of camera two, brows furrowing when he saw something different; the door was cracked open slightly. “…We’ll…see.”

Adam closed the laptop and pushed it to the side as he left the vehicle, all while being stared at by a concerned Jonah. “Adam? What’s going on?”

“I’m…just…gonna check something, alright?” Adam responded. “I’ll be back in a few minutes…”

With that, Adam entered the Home once again, leaving Jonah to keep himself company. Jonah stared at the camera feed, seeing that the bedroom looked normal, at least from what little he could see. Was…he…wrong? Did he really make it up? Maybe he just wanted Adam to…notice his concerns. Maybe there was nothing to worry about after all.

Adam walked into the living room in silence, noticing a new sound aside from the ticking of the clock; faint meowing. It sounded partially choked and pained, like an injured animal. Adam walked away, soon finding himself in front of the presumably locked door, the sound of meowing becoming clearer as he approached it. He stared at the camera before grabbing the tripod and placing it around a foot away before he grabbed the doorknob, now used to the strange warmth. It turned, unlocked, for the first time since he arrived at the House. He took in a deep breath, all before he swung open the door.

He was greeted to a vile sour and rotten smell. He gagged, covering his mouth and nose with his free hand as he pointed his camera towards the room with the other. It was a wooden stairway, leading down into what he presumed to be the basement of the Home. He could hear meowing, though it sounded even worse, like the cat was drowning or being choked to death. He stepped closer as he pulled the front of his hoodie over his face, trying to ignore the urge to vomit from the smell as he looked down the stairway. He could see a concrete floor at the bottom of the dark stairs, seeing that it was seemingly partially flooded, judging from the thin layer of off-color liquid that covered it. It felt hot; a higher temperature than the otherwise cold House, making him sweat just from being near it. He looked around, seeing strange, wet, pinkish colored masses, creeping up the walls and covering large portions of the floor, fusing with it.

Adam stared at the basement with widened eyes, unaware of the figure in the living room watching him. Adam stared at the masses on the basement floor, swearing he could see them pulsating. He shook his head, the sour, putrid smell becoming too much to bear before he slammed the door shut. He coughed and gagged as he stared at the door, all before grabbing the tripod and stepping away, his brows furrowing as he backed away, soon walking out of the House entirely. Jonah was right, just not in the way Adam thought. Something was going on in the house, and it was way better than a cat.

12:25 PM

Jonah stared at the food in front of him, hearing the ambiance of the diner around him as he leaned back in his seat. Adam seemed perfectly fine; quietly eating the cheap food in front of him as if nothing was wrong. Jonah stared at him in silence, beginning to wish he didn’t order food due to the lack of appetite. What a waste of eight bucks.

“You just gonna fucking stare at me, or what.”

Jonah seemed surprised, coming back from spacing out to see Adam glaring at him. “So…you…see anything in the house?” Jonah asked.

Adam let out a deep breath. “No.” Adam stated. “Well…The basement door was open, so there’s that. It was probably just jammed last time.”

“Yeah?” Jonah said. “…And?”

“Nothing much was down there.” Adam responded. “Smelled bad. Thinking the cat died down there or something.”

Jonah stared at Adam with concern as he continued eating as if the possibility of a cat’s corpse rotting in the basement was normal. “…Ah.” Jonah looked away, letting out a forced cough as he crossed his arms. “Sooooo….we’re…gonna…leave?”

Adam paused.

“I mean…it’s not like there’s much for us to do about that.” Jonah continued. “Like, I-I’m not gonna go down there and dispose of it.”

Adam remained silent, staring at the table as he thought to himself, his eyes blank as usual. “…No.”

Jonah leaned forward slightly with furrowed brows. “…What?”

“There’s…I think we should stay the full three days at least.” Adam said quietly. “Might as well.”

“…Dude.” Jonah glanced away for a second. “If there’s nothing interesting there, then…why stay? Like, a smelly basement isn’t that remarkable.”

“No. It isn’t.” Adam agreed. “But everything else is.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

Adam bit his lip lightly as he stared at nothing in particular, becoming still. “Something about her is just…fascinating.” He said. “I don’t know how to describe—”

“Her?”

Adam looked up at Jonah to see a strange look on his face. “What?”

“You said…her.”

“…No?” Adam stared quizzically at Jonah, as if he just said something insane. “Whatever dude, you need to get your ears checked.”

Jonah watched as Adam slipped his jacket back on, zipping it over his white shirt and standing up. “Look, if you’re not gonna eat, at least get it to-go. We’re not wasting money.”

“…Alright.” Jonah watched as Adam slammed money on the table before walking away to presumably get a food box or two. Jonah couldn’t help but feel a pit in his gut; was Adam normally this…soulless? Jonah remained still, looking down at the table as he rubbed his arms. One more day. That’s all.

He hoped.

8:46 PM

Adam leaned against the side of the van, smoking a cigarette as he stared towards the clear night sky. The stars gleamed, reflecting off of his pale eyes. He had his free hand in his hoodie pocket, leaving his other free hand cold. The side door of the van was open, the orange light from inside hitting his side as he heard Jonah moving inside, all before Jonah sat on the edge of the van’s floor, his feet hitting the driveway under them.

“You’re not changing my mind.” Adam stated, not even giving Jonah a passing glance as he blew out smoke.

“I’m not trying to.”

“Then what do you want?” Adam asked.

“Just…wanted to talk.”

Adam looked down throwing his cigarette down and stomping on it with his boot. “Alright.” Adam turned slightly towards Jonah, putting his hand in his pocket.

“…So…you��re staying in there tonight.”

“…Yeah.”

Jonah grew silent for a few moments as he shifted his weight. “I’m…worried about you.”

“Don’t be.” Adam stated. “I can handle—”

“—Yourself, yes I know.” Jonah interrupted. “But…something here…you’ve been so cold lately, and I…don’t think this job is…helping you.”

Adam stayed silent, staring at the front yard in front of him as Jonah stood up and stepped towards him, Adam not even giving him a simple glance. “You know I…care about you…right?” Jonah said quietly. “…You know I’m…your friend, right?”

Adam didn’t respond with anything more than his eyes shifting to the side slightly.

“…Remember…that one time we spray-painted the side of the police department?” Jonah smiled awkwardly. “And how…we managed to get away ‘cause the officer tripped while chasing us? Or…how we were checking out some warehouse ‘cause someone called us for it…and it turned out to be a small family of raccoons? You got your leg scratched up by the mom…right?”

Adam looked at Jonah with a side-eye, with Jonah’s smile fading as he did. “Fake calls.” Adam muttered. “It was all…fake fucking calls.” Adam looked forward and towards the sky. “But this? This…is…real. The first real thing I’ve been able to see since…forever.”

“But that…isn’t a good thing, Adam.” Jonah said. “What if…you’re in genuine danger here?”

“Again…with the fucking what ifs.” Adam’s brows furrowed, making Jonah feel his heart sink somewhat. “Don’t you think I know what I’m doing?”

“…Not saying…you don’t.” Jonah stated. “All I’m saying is that knowing what you’re doing…doesn’t mean things can’t go wrong.”

Adam turned towards Jonah with a hard glare, his eyes somewhat gleaming in the dark. “…I’m getting my stuff and going in.” Adam stated, much to the silent dismay of Jonah. “I’ll call you on the radio tomorrow and check in, okay?”

It wasn’t okay.

“Fine.” Jonah said. Adam brushed past him and dug through the gear in the van, grabbing a blanket, his backpack, and a pillow before crawling back out. Jonah watched as Adam began approaching the front door before shaking his head and following him, grasping Adam’s sleeve.

“Wait.”

Adam turned towards him with a tired, yet annoyed glare.

Jonah grew silent, glancing to the side as he gathered his thoughts. “…Just…be careful, okay?”

Adam brushed his arm off before turning back towards the front door, Jonah feeling his chest tighten when the door closed behind him. Silence fell as Jonah stared at the front door, rubbing his sleeve before lowering his head and turning back towards the van. As he walked, his shoe planted on top of one of the larger cracks in the concrete.

Thump.

Jonah flinched, pulling his foot back as he stared at the crack, which appeared to be a root of some kind upon further inspection. Strange; it felt like it pulsated under his foot. Maybe going to sleep earlier wouldn’t hurt. He was clearly tired.

Adam threw his blankets and pillow onto the dusty couch before sitting on it with a deep exhale. He stared forward at the living room in front of him, hearing the clunking and ticking of the clock in his view. He stared at the television on the coffee table in front of him, pondering turning it on to possibly relax and watch something. However, his exhaustion outweighed the urge to watch old programs; instead, he simply placed his pillow near the arm rest of the couch, laid down, and threw the blankets on top of him. He stared forward, eyelids becoming heavier before he curled into himself and began to drift—

GONG.

Adam was startled awake by the sound of the clock striking nine. The loud bells rang nine times as Adam stared at her face, all with an air of annoyance as he flinched with every ring. “Come on…” He muttered under his breath as he stood up. “You gonna do that every single fucking hour?”

He stood in front of the clock, staring up at her face before sighing and pushing aside the table next to it. “There has to be a way to shut this stupid thing off.” He thought as he stood next to the strangely tall antique clock. He took in a deep breath before grasping the wooden centerpiece, groaning slightly with exertion as he attempted to push it away from the wall, hoping to find a way to access the gears. It seemed to be especially hard to move, inching away at an angle as Adam pushed as hard as he could, all until he was able to reach the back of it.

He rubbed his hands on his pants as he looked at the back of the clock, seeing nothing but plain redwood until he looked up where the clock face was. He froze, as if he was turned into a stone statue in a single second. His eyes widened slightly, though the rest of his expression stayed blank as he stared at the pulsating mass protruding from near the top of the clock.

It was a large, dull red artery, connected the back of the clock, it merging with the wall and connecting to the clock through a hole in the wood. Veins draped from both the wall and the clock itself, all pulsing with every “heartbeat.” Adam stared up at the arterial vein with dead eyes, his twitching hand beginning to rise above his head as his eyes refused to look away from her lifeblood. He placed his cold hand against the artery, feeling the pulsing and twitching from the blood rushing through it. It was warm; inviting. He held it there for a few more moments, all before he pulled it down, staring at the thin layer of mucus and blood that was now coating the palm of his hand.

He stared straight forward, turning and taking a few steps forward until he was in front of the clock, staring at the floor with a dead look in his eyes. He silently kneeled down in front of her, soon lowering himself until he was lying on the ground, his face and body pressing against the shaggy, old carpeting. Blood began to seep from his nose, dripping onto the floor below him as he grew still. He stared at nothing, eyes widened enough to be able to see the blood vessels, all before they shut closed. It was warm near it. It was nice being near her. It was nice to be Home.

Day three, 1:00 PM

Adam didn’t wake up that morning.

Day four, 12:27 PM

Adam awoke on the floor of the living room with a gasp. His bloodshot eyes stared forward with a half-lidded stare as he gained his bearings. His chest felt tight, and his limbs and back ached as he pushed himself off of the floor. His lungs stung with every harsh breath as he sat up. He paused as he sat on his knees, staring at the floor blankly in silence.

He doubled over and gagged, soon puking up everything in his body. Bile and blood poured out of his mouth as he spat it out on the ground in front of the clock, feeling his lungs burn and his stomach churn with every heave of his chest. He gasped and choked as thick, dark blood dripped from his mouth, the smell of bile stinging his nose as he stared at the red-stained carpet in front of him. He shakily pushed himself to his feet, wiping his mouth with his hoodie’s sleeve, staining it a deep crimson that was barely visible in the black fabric. He turned towards the front door, regaining the light in his eyes before grabbing his stuff from the couch and approaching the door.

He was greeted to Jonah staring at him from the van with a mix of relief and horror. Adam stepped off of the porch, stumbling slightly before he planted his shoes on the driveway, prepared to tell Jonah about—

“A-Adam.”

Jonah was hugging him.

Adam stared at Jonah with confusion, noticing he was shaking slightly as he wrapped his arms around Adam tightly. Adam stared at him for a few moments before shaking his head and pushing Jonah away.

“What is up with you,” He questioned. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Jonah had tears in his eyes as he answered. “I-I…I th…thought you died.”

“What?” Adam scoffed. “Dude, I was literally out here last night, I told you I’d talk to you in the morning.”

Jonah stared at him blankly as Adam shook his head and brushed past him, throwing his blankets into the van. Jonah couldn’t take his eyes off of Adam as he nonchalantly grabbed the laptop and look through the camera feeds. It was as if Jonah was afraid to let Adam out of his sight, wondering if he was even looking at Adam at all. Jonah didn’t expect Adam to explain why he didn’t respond to his calls, or Jonah banging on the door and window, or even Jonah yelling at him to get out, so despite Jonah’s own need to know what happened, he remained silent.

Jonah was terrified, and for once, he wasn’t sure if he was scared of the House or Adam himself.

Day Five. 12:45 AM

Jonah sat in the passenger seat with his legs propped up on the dashboard, brows furrowed as he stared forward at the garage door. He glanced at Adam through the rearview mirror, seeing that he was, once again, fiddling with his camcorder. “You’re going back in, aren’t you.” Jonah asked, though it sounded less like a question and more of a statement.

“Come on dude, not this shit again.” Adam scoffed. “I’ll be out in a couple hours.” Adam began to crawl out of the van, exiting the vehicle but being stopped by the passenger door swinging open and Jonah stepping out as well.

“No.”

“…What?”

“I said no.” Jonah repeated as he clenched his fists. “We were here for three days; that’s all we were being paid for. We’re done.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Adam shook his head slightly and attempted to walk past Jonah, only for him to step in front of him.

“No. There was no cat, we stayed for the three days,” Jonah said. “So therefore…we’re done.”

Adam glared at Jonah with a twitching jaw.

“I don’t give a shit how ‘interesting’ this fucking house is; I’m taking us home.” Jonah continued. “You can come crawling back later, but I’m not coming with you. Besides, Sarah’s probably starting to worry about us—”

“Who gives a shit what she thinks?” Adam snapped. “It’s not like she gets it.”

“What?”

“Think about it, all she does all day is take calls and make videos. That’s it.” Adam stepped towards Jonah. “She knows nothing of the real shit that’s going on here, and I’m going to find out.”

“Adam, listen to yourself—” Jonah pleaded, blocking Adam’s way when he once again attempted to walk past him. “You were never this much of a dick, were you?”

“Look, I get you don’t like Her, but can you at least suck it up for a few hours?” Adam questioned.

“Suck what u—”

A high pitched screech startled the two out of their argument, causing them to snap their attention back to the house. Jonah froze like a deer in headlights, all while Adam stared at where the sound originated with a look of curiosity behind his widened eyes.

“Oh…oh, fuck this—” Jonah began to turn back towards the van, only to be stopped by an iron grip on his wrist. He turned back, seeing Adam holding his arm as he stared at the front door, still hearing faint shrieking coming from inside. “A-Adam, let me go—” Jonah managed to free himself, only when Adam began to storm towards the door, swinging it open and entering the house once again. Jonah stared in horror before he clenched his fists harder with a huff.

“Hello?” Adam called as soon as he closed the door behind him. He awaited a response as he looked into the dark house, looking at the camcorder in his hand before he turned on night-vision mode and pointed it forwards. He saw the clock, the piano, the basement door, and everything else through a green, monochromatic lens, using the camera to see as he once again walked through the house, listening to the faint, high pitched screams that continued to sound.

He stepped through the kitchen, looking up to see the source of the screams; a pipe jutting out of the ceiling, releasing air fast enough to cause the sound. Adam sighed in disappointment, lowering his camera as he thought about turning back. However, as he turned, he began to hear a new sound, coming from behind him. It was music, and when Adam looked up, he saw a camera in the corner near the ceiling of the kitchen, playing the music through the speaker. Its red light flickered, and its lens was pointed towards Adam as if it was staring at him directly.

Adam turned towards the back hallway, seeing that it was longer than he remembered, stretching into the dark as music played from within the blackness. Adam stared into the hall, hearing the speaker of the camera crackle slightly, the music continuing as Adam carefully approached it. He stood in the middle of the hallway, noticing that there was an indented line in the walls and floor from where the locked door was, as if it simply vanished. He was able to hear faint breathing in front of him. He could see a red light flickering near the top corner of the hallway. He swallowed hard before holding his radio up. “Jonah?”

“Adam, I swear to God, please—”

“Shh.” Adam slowly turned the tripod camera that was on the floor around with his foot, pointing it into the dark. “Watch.”

Adam stared into his camcorder’s screen, all before he slowly rose it up, pointing it towards the small red light he saw in the dark. He froze, eyes widening as he stared through the screen, feeling his heart sink while he stared at the thing in front of him.

“…oh my god.” Adam muttered, gagging slightly.

Attached to the CCTV camera was an arm, its hand wrapped around the metal casing, fusing with it with tendrils made of skin. Wires hung from the bottom of it, draping down before fusing with the arm, pushing the skin up as it ran down underneath the skin. Adam followed the arm, seeing that the figure was cloaked by a grey sweatshirt, halfway fused with its skin. Adam’s breathing remained calm despite his shaking hands as he saw that the figures torso was halfway in the wall near the top of the doors, with its right arm fused with the wallpaper. Veins and tendrils of skin and fabric spread from the fusion point, and he could see blood vessels underneath it. The figures ribcage was visible through the fabric, with a golden cross hanging in front of its sternum. Adam could swear he saw the outline of organs, but decided to look up at the figures face to push the idea away.

Its face was deathly pale and acne-ridden. Its left eye was covered by messy, chestnut brown hair, though its right eye was completely missing, with only the indent of an eye socket being left behind. Its mouth was gone, as if the lips fused together, making the nose the only facial feature left. Adam stared up at the figure stuck in the wall, seeing that it was eerily still, though Adam almost wished he wasn’t breathing. He hated that the man was alive.

“Adam, what the fuck is that.” Jonah questioned from the radio, his voice shaking. “A…A-Adam, what the FUCK IS THA—”

Click.

Adam placed the radio back onto his belt before he pulled out his spirit box from his pocket, flicking it on and hearing it rapidly cycle through various radio frequencies. Adam stared at the figure’s face, all before speaking.

“How did you…become like this?”

The music stopped.

“…Where are you from?” Adam asked.

Quiet static was the only response from the camera’s speaker.

“…Do you remember your name?”

The figure remained still, his breath appearing to become heavier, with his ribs shifting with every breath. Adam stared up at the figure, brows furrowing as he awaited a response, despite beginning to think he was incapable of communication at all.

“Are you—”

“Get. Out.”

Adam looked up, noticing that the voice wasn’t coming from the spirit box at all, instead coming from the camera fused to the figures left hand.

“I’m…not here to hurt—”

“GET. OUT.” The figure shifted, causing Adam to step back in surprise. The figures head tilted to the side, his hair moving out of the way enough to make his left eye visible. It was wide, cloudy, and bloodshot, clearly unable to be seen through.

“…Do you remember your name?” Adam asked again, despite the air of anger coming from the figure in front of him.

The figure didn’t respond with much more than him shifting, seemingly attempting to tear himself away from the wall, pulling himself away as much as he could before it let out a muffled, pained sound and relaxing once again, lowering his head. Silence fell before Adam glanced to the side, quietly shutting off the tripod camera as he kept his camcorder fixed on the figure.

“Who…are…you.”

Adam looked up at the figure, seeing that he was vaguely facing his direction, slowly pushing the camera towards Adam’s face. It became close enough to where Adam could see the lens clearly, noticing that behind the glass was a green iris instead of a simple camera.

“…My name’s Adam.” Adam stated. “I work for the Bythorne Paranormal society.”

The figure remained silent, still as the camera examined Adam’s face through the black and white footage.

“Do you remember your name?” Adam asked for a third time, beginning to lose his patience.

The figure returned back to its original position, twitching slightly before his head turned away.

“…M…Mark.” The camera’s speaker played, it sounding more human than before. “Mark…H…Heathcliff.”

Heathcliff.

Adam thought for a moment before speaking again. “Do you know…someone named…Sarah Heathcliff?”

Mark’s head turned towards him, and despite what was visible on his face having no eyes, Adam felt that his stare was cold.

“…Where…is…she…?” Mark asked.

“I work with her.” Adam stated. “She works at the BPS…like me.”

“Is she…s…safe?”

Adam’s brows furrowed as he noticed that Mark was shaking. “Yes.”

“Does…she…remember me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Does she remember me.” Mark repeated.

“I just told you, I don’t know—”

“DOES. SHE. REMEMBER. ME.”

Adam remained silent as Mark shifted again, lowering his camera and facing away. “…She’s…safe.” He muttered through the static. “She’s…alive.”

Adam spotted a clear liquid dripping from the camera’s lens; tears.

“How did…you become like this?” Adam questioned.

“Leave.” Mark’s voice shook slightly. “You’re…a…fool for coming here.”

“I did what I had to do.”

“You…you don’t care about him…do you?” Mark questioned.

“…Who?”

“Your…friend.” Mark elaborated. “He’s…w-waiting outside…for you.”

“How can you tell?”

“I can…see…him.”

The camera feed from the outer side of the house pointed towards the driveway, watching as Jonah paced back and forth on the driveway.

“I…hate you.” Mark stated as he switched his attention back to Adam, causing him to stare at him in confusion. “You…people like you are the reason I’m…like this. Does that…answer your fucking question?”

“I never did anything—”

“You ignored him.” Mark interrupted. “…You dragged him here. You put him in danger.”

“He’s an idiot.” Adam snapped. “He doesn’t know how deep this case goes. He doesn’t understand Her like I do.”

Mark remained still at that statement, his camera pointed at Adam’s furious expression.

“…God…It has you too.”

“…What?”

“ADAM!”

Adam turned around to hear Jonah bursting through the front door, looking around the living room with a look of anger. Adam took one last glance at Mark before shutting off his camcorder and turning back towards the living room; all while the security cameras he passed by followed his movement.

“What the fuck are you doing here,” Adam questioned as soon as he entered the living room, seeing that Jonah was standing in front of the clock. “I’m in the middle of something.”

“I’m done, okay?” Jonah snapped. “We’re fucking leaving, and you’re coming with me.”

“Dude, I’m so close to figuring out this place, I just need to spend more time with her—”

“SHUT UP!” Jonah shouted. “I’m fucking DONE with you. You keep ignoring me; acting like I’m a fucking moron for just wanting you to be safe. We are leaving, and we’re leaving now.”

“Are you fucking serious?!” Adam snapped. “You’ve done nothing but whine the entire trip. We finally find something worth our time, something meaningful, and you decide to be too much of a fucking coward to help me with it. Can’t you take a single second to not joke and actually take this seriously?”

“Look, I get it, I joke around sometimes, but that’s just what I do.” Jonah defended.

“Well, maybe it shouldn’t be.”

“I’m done; whatever the fuck is here is gonna get you killed, and I’m not going to be here to check for a pulse.” Jonah’s breath was harsh as he spoke, all while Adam’s silent fury rose.

“Just FUCKING LEAVE THEN!” Adam pointed towards the front door as he yelled. “LEAVE.”

Jonah stared at Adam in a stunned silence, his head shaking slightly and his brows turning downwards.

“I’m not leaving.” Adam stated. “Not now. I’ll figure out this thing…I will.”

Silence fell as the two stared at each other, a tense mood in the air until Jonah spoke quietly.

“…Eve was right about you.”

Adam froze, staring at Jonah with a mix of shock and anger, his eyes strangely…dead.

“You really are just a fucking prick.”

Jonah was barely able to process the first punch Adam threw at him.

Jonah stumbled back, lightly pressing his hand against the red splotch on his face as he let out a pained groan. Jonah looked back up, only to be greeted by Adam grabbing Jonah’s sweatshirt, holding him still before Jonah grasped his arms, pushing Adam away and causing him to drop his camcorder to the ground. Adam glanced at the camera on the floor, muttering to himself.

“You son of a BITCH—”

Adam swung another punch at Jonah, who only barely dodged it, causing Adam to slam his fist against the clock’s glass, shattering it. The clocks bells rung, and pipes squealed, but neither seemed to notice, Adam staring at Jonah with a blank, yet furious expression, not seeming to be effected by the glass in his fist. Jonah slammed his fist against Adams face, though it barely seemed to get a reaction out of him aside from an exclamation of pain.

Adam grasped Jonah’s arms as they struggled, Jonah attempting to free himself from Adam’s fury-fueled attack and Adam attempting to get closer. Jonah managed to free himself, grasping Adam’s neck with a free hand and pushing him back, his eyes widened and his heart beating out of his chest. He grasped his “friend’s” neck hard enough to make Adam choke slightly, his pale hands gripped onto Jonah’s leather-covered arm. Adam was slammed against the clock, only causing the glass shards left to fall into the compartment inside. Adam was stronger than Jonah, and he knew it, and as he reached for Jonah’s face, he knew he’d prove it.

He grasped Jonah’s nose ring and tore it out.

Jonah let out a loud yell, stumbling back and holding his hand over his rapidly bleeding nose, the crimson blood oozing onto his bruised hand. Jonah’s wide eyes were fixated on the ground, eyes tearing up as he covered the lower part of his face. Adam stared at Jonah as he rubbed his neck lightly, looking down to see the bloody nose piercing in his other hand, seeing a small piece of flesh that came with it. Adam glanced back at Jonah, only to see him staring back with a haunted, yet furious expression. Before he did anything stupid however, he simply walked backwards, soon quickly turning around and running for the door, slamming it behind him.

Adam stared at the door, his breath heavy as he looked down at the floor, seeing his camcorder on the ground before he leaned over and retrieved it, seeing that the screen on it was cracked. He stared at it, letting out a soft sigh before closing it and staring at nothing in particular. He looked at his right hand, seeing the shards of glass sticking out of the flesh, with dark blood seeping from every cut. It hurt; Adam could finally feel it.

He looked back towards the front door when he heard the sound of the van starting, walking towards the living room window and pushing open one of the curtains to see outside. The van was pulling out of the driveway, hesitating on the street before speeding down the road, leaving Adam in the dust. He felt his heart begin to race, his emotions finally making themselves known as he reached for his radio, switching it on.

“Jonah?” He called. “Jonah, where are you going?”

Radio silence.

“Jonah?!” Adam repeated, his voice hoarse. “God fucking damn it, please—”

Adam was interrupted by the sound of a door closing somewhere in the house, snapping him out of his train of thought. He turned towards the other side of the house, realizing the sound was from the back hall. He looked down at his camcorder, his instinct telling him to turn it on, but instead, he simply placed it on top of the television before walking carefully towards the hallway.

Adam stood near the entrance of the hallway, seeing that the tripod had been knocked over, with the camera’s lens being broken entirely. He looked up, seeing Mark was completely still once again, the camera and its veins dangling from his spot near the ceiling. Adam turned to the left, seeing a door he hadn’t noticed before, seeing that it was cracked open slightly. He grasped the door handle, swinging it open and stepping inside.

It was presumably a guest bedroom, though it was completely empty, without any beds or furniture. A single window was in the opposite wall, and when Adam turned around, he saw a closet door right beside the entrance to the room. The wallpaper was a plain grey, and the wooden floors appeared strangely soft, despite the flooring in the rest of the home feeling perfectly stable. He stepped further into the room, soon standing in the middle of it seeing that there was nothing of note in there. Perhaps he imagined the sound.

“What…have…you…done.”

Adam froze when he heard the voice behind him, slowly turning to see what was speaking, only to stare in horror at the figure in front of him. It was a man, or what appeared like one, leaning down slightly just to fit in the room. He had an eerily large smile, with what appeared to be small veins draping from his mouth. His wide, bloodshot right eye stared at Adam, with his other being nothing but arteries and veins pouring out from his eye socket, fusing with his skin. His black, wavy hair was messy, though it appeared to be hastily and lazily brushed to the side. The face was vile to look at, making a pit form in Adam’s gut, but his body was worse.

His legs and arms were stretched out to impossible lengths, the bones curved and bent in unnatural ways, cloaked by a torn, stitched together black suit, which was complimented by a white dress shirt, red bowtie, and a wilted rose on his lapel. Adam looked towards its torso, seeing that his ribs were in plain view, with his suit and skin wrapped around them and his spine as if he didn’t have any organs whatsoever. Veins and strands of skin and fabric swayed in the empty cavity, attaching themselves to his spine and pelvis bones. He looked starved; BEYOND starved even, as if he was literally nothing but skin and warped bones. Adam looked back up at the figures face, seeing that his smile was fading slightly.

“You…aren’t a polite guest…” It stated. “She doesn’t appreciate that…you really hurt her, you know...”

“Who are you?” Adam questioned, wondering if he should have asked what the thing was rather than who as soon as he asked the question.

“That doesn’t matter right now, Murray.” The figure smiled again as he folded his boney hands together. “I just…wanted to talk for a little while.”

2:13 AM

Jonah was sobbing as he stared at the dark roads in front of him, using one hand to steer and the other to hold his continuously bleeding nose wound. He had run out of tears to shed, despite his dry sobs and cries as he drove past the speed limit, pushing away his worries of sliding off of the road. He hyperventilated, shaking his head before pulling over to the side of the road, next to a field that sat at the left and right of the road.

Jonah let go of the steering wheel, using the other hand to cover his nose, noticing that he could taste blood, and now the blood was drying to his face. He stared forward, thoughts running in his mind faster than a racecar.

“You left him behind, like a coward.”

“He was right about you.”

“Don’t you miss being there?”

“Don’t you want to go back?”

“You want to go back.”

“She misses you.”

“Come back home—”

Jonah was interrupted by the sound of the radio blasting music, causing him to let out a small yell out of shock. His heart sunk as he listened to the familiar 80’s tune, with the first lyrics, “Like the wind” feeling like pins to his ears. “Shut up…s-shut the fuck up…” Jonah sobbed as he felt the thoughts run through his head, all of which feeling not his own. The music continued, despite his pleas. Leave me alone, please. God, I’m sorry, please just leave me be. Please just get the FUCK OUT OF MY HEA—

2:33 AM

Jonah was silent as he drove back into Mandela, ignoring his smashed radio and the pain in his foot. His eyes were tired; defeated. He could only hope Adam got his shit together as he made his way back. Jonah couldn’t help but notice a strange feeling deep in his gut as he drove back, something he couldn’t pinpoint.

However, it felt similar to homesickness.

Adam couldn’t move his eyes away from the alternate in front of him as it spoke, its smile not fading once during its monologue. “You were invited here, you know.” It stated. “I expected you to be…better. However…you…had to ruin that, didn’t you?”

“I never did anything.”

“You hurt her.” The alternate said, seeming to have a tone of sadness. “You…really hurt her tonight. Do you hear it, Murray?”

The alternate grew silent as Adam listened, hearing nothing until the sound finally reached his ears; creaking. He could hear the clock ticking in the living room as well, though it began to sound less of a clock and more of a heart beating.

“She’s stressed.” The alternate said. “The walls…are creaking. Her heart…is racing. All because…you decided to be…a very…disrespectful guest.”

Adam had no clue what to say, only able to listen as the alternate continued.

“…Though…that was your goal from the very start, wasn’t it?” The alternate asked. “You came here…not because you wanted to honor her…you came her to study her…like an animal.” The alternate glanced to the side. “Though…despite it all…you…remind me of me.”

“…What?”

“You remind me of how I acted so long ago…so…disobedient.” The alternate said. “So…lost. Home made me whole again…and she was willing to give you that offer. Though…perhaps its best you refused. She needs me after all, not something like…you.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Adam questioned.

“Have you ever felt...isolated, Murray?” the alternate asked as it inched closer. “As if you were never understood by the people you called friends, shunned by those you cared for? Wondering why; why can't I feel anything of worth towards these people...?”

Adam stepped backwards, further into the room until he was directly in the center of it.

“Well, you were never meant to be understood.” The tall alternate continued. “You're trying to find a mother that was never truly yours. Trying to fit into skin that does not belong to you. Don't you see? The child in the crib that night has been dead for years...though I can't help but feel as though you knew that already.

The alternate leaned down, staring Adam in the eyes as it asked one final question.

“You were never, truly, 'Adam Murray'....were you?"

Adam could only stare in confused horror as the alternate stood tall over him, letting out a forced laugh. “Well…I suppose it doesn’t matter, now does it…” The alternate said. “She’s…been starving for so long. So perhaps…this is the best fate for you.”

Adam didn’t understand what was being told to him, only able to stare with wide, horrified eyes until he felt an intense burning in his feet. He looked down, attempting to move his legs, only to find that they were planted in the ground, the soles of his shoes appearing to “melt” into the flooring as he felt himself slowly sink. He let out panicked yells and calls for help as he attempted to tear his legs from the floor, all while the alternate watched, slowly backing out of the room, into the darkness, leaving Adam to himself.

Adam felt his skin melt and bones deconstruct under his weight, being absorbed by the “wooden” flooring as he screamed, pulling out his radio as a final attempt to get help. “JONAH!” He screamed. “JONAH PLEASE, HELP ME!” He felt a surge of pain hit him at once, causing him to drop the radio to the ground. He screamed in agony as the radio sunk into the ground, Adam feeling as he sunk down to his thighs, crying in both mental and physical turmoil, unheard by anyone who would care.

The first thing Jonah heard when he pulled into the driveway was screaming.

He parked the vehicle, shutting it off as he listened closely, his breath quickening when he came to the realization that he wasn’t simply hearing things. He stared at the house, taking in a deep breath before opening the door of the van, slamming it shut as he rushed towards the house, shouting Adam’s name as he approached. He opened the door and ran into the house, closing the door while unaware of the van slowly sinking into the driveway’s pavement.

“ADAM?!”

Adam could hear Jonah’s voice rapidly approaching, unable to call back as he screamed, attempting to free his right arm, which was sinking into the ground beside him. Jonah ran into the room, looking around before staring at Adam, his face changing to pure horror as he saw that Adam was halfway through the ground, his hoodie and skin fusing with the floor like liquid. Dark, thick blood oozed from Adam’s nose and mouth as he shrieked in anguish, Jonah being unable to do anything but back away, his head shaking slightly as he muttered to himself, attempting to convince himself that it wasn’t real as he leaned against the room’s wall.

Adam stared at Jonah with a pleading look in his teary eyes; an expression that told a million words. It was an expression that said “I’m sorry” without saying a single word, despite it being far too late for apologies. Jonah attempted to move from the wall, beginning to scream when he realized he was stuck, unable to move. He turned to the right, seeing his right arm, which was bent towards the ceiling, was slowly fusing with the grey wallpaper, his leather jacket becoming one with his skin and melding to the wall. Jonah attempted to turn his head forward, only screaming harder and louder when he was greeted by a burning pain from the right side of his face as it too attached to the wall.

Adam could do nothing but watch, barely able to feel his chest as his arms sunk below the surface, staring at Jonah as his legs and arms sunk into the wall behind him. Adam’s screaming continued until his mouth was taken too, watering eyes watching Jonah suffer all before his head went under. Adam expected to die; to cease to exist entirely. However, he found himself floating weightlessly within a dark void, unable to speak, see, or hear. He pondered if he was in Hell, all until he surfaced.

He sat up, finding that he was lying in a pool of red, thick liquid. He looked down, barely able to see his own hands, though he could make out that they were covered in blood. He frantically looked around, seeing that he was back in the house, though it appeared…different. It was mirrored, and some of the furniture was floating as if in water. Adam noticed as he stood up that his hair and clothes also rippled, moving as if he was under the sea. He could barely see that he was in the living room, or at least a version of it that was warped and twisted. He continued to survey his surroundings until he froze, holding his hand up to his neck as he realized something.

He couldn’t breathe.

Adam choked, feeling as if he was drowning in air as he stumbled around, the blood splashing with every movement of his feet. He felt something attaching to his right ankle, similar to the burning he felt as he sunk into the floor, and with it, he began to feel a heartbeat that wasn’t his own. He was suffocating, unable to get a single breath in as much as he tried. His wide eyes darted around in a panic, all before fixating on something he saw in front of him.

Standing in the dark was a young man, cloaked in a black suit, near identical to the alternate he saw. However, he was…human. He was staring at Adam with a mix of confusion, fear, and concern, unmoving as Adam stared back, trembling as he attempted to get a single breath of air into his lungs.

The man began to walk towards Adam, slowly approaching, as if hesitant. Adam was going to die in that hellscape; he believed so with his entire heart. He could do nothing but silently panic as the man grew closer, slowly raising his blood-coated hand until he stopped directly in front of Adam. Silence fell, the man nodding slightly before he rose his other hand up and shoved Adam to the ground.

Adam fell through the blood, as if no floor was there in the first place, finding himself in the dark, inky “sea” once again. He looked down, seeing a faint light in the distance, and as he felt his thoughts become foggy, he swam towards it. He scrambled for the light reaching towards it as his vision became blurry. It grew closer and closer, and Adam could feel cool air instead of the warm blood he was in. He began to black out, wondering if it was the end.

Until he finally made it out.

He took in a harsh, deep breath when he felt himself resurface, coughing up blood and bile onto the floor in front of him, his body trembling. His eyes flicked open, his vision tunneled as he regained his bearings, breathing in the cool air of the room he was in. He looked down at himself, breath hitching when he saw that his legs were missing, with only his waist up protruding from the floor. His hoodie appeared to have fused with his skin and unhealthily thin frame, the BPS logo on his chest melting into the rest of the fabric. He pressed his hands against the now solid floor, all before pausing, raising his hand in front of his face as he stared at them.

The skin in his hands appeared somewhat transparent, like ballistic gel. He could see his veins and bones, along with the faint red color of his equally transparent muscles. He stared at his cold, thin hands before looking down at the floor, noticing something right beside his body; his piercings. They were in a small pile, and when Adam felt his lip and ears, he realized that they seemed to have been ejected from his body entirely. He wanted to scream, though he was unable to find his voice as he looked towards the wall, seeing that Jonah had suffered a similar fate.

Jonah was halfway through the wall, his back completely consumed by the wallpaper. His ribs were visible through his white sweatshirt, and his lower legs had sunken into the wall, fusing with it. His face made Adam’s heart sink, seeing that his teeth were visible, as if his lips had disappeared and his skin fused with his gums. His skeletal face had thin veins visible from under the thin skin, and his teeth seemed to have even grown in the wrong places, as if mimicked improperly. His left eye had shifted to the side of his head, staring straight forward before it fixated on Adam’s form. He let out quiet whimpers, his jaw twitching with every sound.

Adam stared back at Jonah’s one remaining eye, feeling something emitting from it; a feeling. It was a feeling that made Adam’s gut churn just by feeling it coming from Jonah. It was a look that said a simple request, and nothing more:

“Kill me.”

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