Lagamorph wrote:I guess I'll check the rooms I haven't been to yet
There's two of the gargoyle-knocker rooms, and you've been in the master bedroom but not checked it out. There's a door to another two rooms (other than the bloody pool) just off the main entrance room.
It's mostly empty - but there's not as much dust as the other rooms. The bed is half-made, and looks like someone's been sleeping in it recently. However, most of the furniture has been taken out. There are little bits of bric-a-brac on the floor - it seems like the room has been stripped bare in a hurry.
There's a large, ornate dresser opposite the bed. You take a look. The moon's since moved in the sky and the moonlight is shining in through the other side of the house now, through the balcony windows. You see your reflection: totally naked and with dried red blood flaking on your skin. You look in the drawers of the dresser but there's no clothes and no sign of a wardrobe or anything similar.
Tired of hauling your wet, bloody clothes around in a bundle with nowhere to dry them, you dump them in a heap on the bed and sit at the bed's end. It's only then that you notice the small, old photographs pinned to the mirror opposite you. You haul yourself off the bed and take a look.
There are four photos. Two are of people you don't know - black and white, an elderly couple; and a young boy, who looks vaguely familiar, but you've no idea why or how. The other two photos are in colour.
The first is of a face you've not seen in a long, long time.
The second is of a face you always see...
A photo of an eight-year-old Offerman Tapik stares at you.
Well, I'm glad no-one saw me do that. I'm naked, I'm covered in dried blood, I'm in the bedroom of an old wooden house, and I've just eaten photos of myself and my mother, despite them possibly being a clue as to what's going on here.