Part 36: Day Three- Page 36

Back again with some Lovecraftian horror.

It's Day three...

This is where things get weird.




You wake up, shivering. Michael is in bed next to you, sleeping like a dead man with the sheets wrapped in a twisted snarl around his body.

>look at mike
Michael is sprawled across the bed with the sheets tangled around his legs, oblivious to the world. Usually, Michael is a light sleeper; you've never seen him so thoroughly knocked out before.

You notice something odd about Michael's feet. They are covered with dried mud.

>look at feet
The bottoms of Michael's feet are caked with dried mud. Bits of leaves and twigs are stuck to his skin as well.

Now where have you been, Hubby? Maybe when he wake up, we can ask him.

>kiss mike
You gently kiss Michael's forehead. His skin feels hot and feverish.

>stretch
That's not a verb I recognise.

>yawn
That's not a verb I recognise.

>get up
Reluctantly, you do so.

Master Bedroom
The master bedroom is a picture-postcard of rustic New England charm. Faded sketches of rural landscapes adorn the walls; a beautifully carved dressing mirror stands in one corner; an old-fashioned accordion radiator gurgles quietly beneath the window. The most striking feature, an enormous, antique, four-poster bed, must be the largest piece of furniture in the house. Doorways lead west and south.

Your trenchcoat is here.

Michael is sprawled across the bed, sound asleep.

>look in mirror
You look good, and being naked doesn't hurt, either. A bit rattled by recent events, perhaps, but well-poised and collected, all the same.

As a fat man, looking into the mirror with nothing on is usually a turn off.
I'm glad this game simulates a higher self-image.

>W

Bathroom

Your clothes lie in an untidy pile on the floor.

You can also see a silver locket (which is closed) and a keyring (on which are four keys (a small copper key, an old-fashioned iron key, a key to the house and a key to the cellar)) here.

Now why did Miranda take off that locket?

>take clothes
Taken.

We don't want to get dressed here. Dressing is a trigger that wakes up Michael Carter in the next room.

>e

Master Bedroom

Your trenchcoat is here.

Michael is sprawled across the bed, sound asleep.

>put on clothes
You try to get dressed as quietly as possible, but apparently Michael isn't as knocked out as you thought he was. Michael comes awake with a jerk and a hoarse shout. For a moment or two he only stares about blindly, as if unsure of where he is and all but unaware of your presence. Then, with a grunt of surprise, he seems to come to his senses and painstakingly crawls out of bed.

Michael mutters something under his breath, something you can barely hear, but which sounds like:"...seus..."

Uh Oh.

>Hello, Michael
Hello yourself.
That's not a verb I recognise.

Keep it together, Game! Our hubby is in trouble!

>ask Michael about day
You can't think of anything to say about that for the moment.

>tell Michael about Bum
Michael dismisses you with an irritable wave of his hand. "You shouldn't believe everything an old drunk tells you," he says.

>Tell Michael about William
Michael dismisses you with an irritable wave of his hand. "You shouldn't believe everything an old drunk tells you," he says.

>Tell Michael about Edward
Michael suddenly claps his hands over his ears. "Shut up about that guy, will you?" he shouts. "I am so sick of hearing about Edward Verlac; can we PLEASE talk about something less fucking depressing? The guy is dead and gone and so are his poor fucking wife and his poor fucking kids; it's ancient history! I am NOT Edw-- "

He breaks off abruptly and looks away. Your heart skips a beat, however, because you realize what he was about to say:

"I am not Edward Verlac."

Crap.

>Ask Mike about Croseus
Michael stops and stares at you with an odd, distrustful expression. "Where did you hear that name?" he croaks. "I dreamed that name." He rubs his forehead again. "I dreamed it..."

>Ask Michael about laptop
"What do you know about it?" he asks suspiciously. "Have you been in my things? Looking at my writing behind my back? Have you been spying on me?"

He just needs a woman's touch.


>Kiss Michael
Michael pulls away from you with an irritated look.

Michael wanders off to the west, absently rubbing his forehead.

Okay, maybe he needs a kick up his ass.

>take coat
Taken.

>wear coat
You put on the trenchcoat.

>w

Bathroom

Michael stands here, frowning and absently rubbing at his forehead.

You can also see a silver locket (which is closed) and a keyring (on which are four keys (a small copper key, an old-fashioned iron key, a key to the house and a key to the cellar)) here.

Don't mind me, Mr. Carter. I'm just taking all the stuff I stole back.

>take all
silver locket: Taken.
keyring: Taken.

>open locket
You open the silver locket, revealing a boy's picture.

>show picture to Mike
(the jewelry box to Michael)
(first taking the jewelry box)
Michael doesn't even look at it.

Wait, what? How did you even guess I was talking about the Jewelry box?!

>Show boy's picture to Mike
Michael gazes intently at the locket. "That..." he mutters, "... I was looking for that..." He reaches out as if to take it from you, but then his hand goes back to his forehead and begins rubbing again. "... but I don't remember why," he says, turning away from you.

Oh man. This is looking worse and worse.

>wear locket
You put on the silver locket.

>put Jewelry Box in coat
You slip the jewelry box into the pocket of your trenchcoat.

Michael wanders off to the east with a furtive, suspicious glance in your direction.

>put keys in coat
You slip the keyring into the pocket of your trenchcoat.

>e

Master Bedroom

Michael stands here, frowning and absently rubbing at his forehead.

Michael cocks his head suddenly, as if listening to a distant sound.

>Tell Michael about Verlac
(the Verlac family)
"Jesus, just give it a rest!" Michael shouts, throwing his hands up. "Can't you just fucking leave me alone for two goddamn minutes?" He rounds on you. "I mean it," he says, "You push me one more time and..." He leaves the rest unfinished. Turning his back on you, he stalks off to the other side of the room.

You draw a shaky breath, dismayed and hurt. This is horrible; you can't do anything for Michael if he won't talk to you, and everything you say seems to make it worse. In your frustration, you even catch yourself wishing that you could spy on your own husband -- that perhaps, unobserved, he might offer you some clue as to what is bothering him.

Sighing, you dismiss the thought. What, after all, would that solve?

Michael mutters something under his breath, something you can barely hear, but which sounds like:"...seus..."

At this point, talking to Michael won't give us much. I'm kicking myself because I forgot to ask about the mud and it would take FOREVER to get back to this point in a new save file.
Miranda best move on.


Yeah, tha'ts a good idea. Just, not in front of Mike.

>s

Upstairs Landing

>take off ring
You slip the plain gold band from your finger. Usually you feel almost naked without your ring on, although sometimes you do find yourself taking it off briefly, just to read the inscription along the inside.

>read ring
Engraved along the inside are Michael's and your initials, along with your wedding date -- June 28th.

Oooo! I know just where to enter that!

>east

Upstairs Hall

There is a cord dangling in mid-air here, right about level with your face.

>n

Library

A beautiful pair of mahogany sliding doors stand closed to the east.

You can hear Michael moving around elsewhere in the house, the floorboards creaking uneasily with his footsteps.

Michael wanders around the house randomly until we enter the study. You can actually surprise him in a dark room.

>e
(opening the sliding doors first)

Study

A beautiful pair of mahogany sliding doors lead west, to the library.

Michael's laptop sits in the middle of the desk, humming quietly to itself.

You can hear Michael moving around elsewhere in the house, the floorboards creaking uneasily with his footsteps.

>wear ring
The gold band slides onto your finger with a comforting snugness.

>look at laptop
A top-of-the-line model: it's sleek, lightweight and very fast, a real status symbol for the writer who wants to look as though he might stop whatever he's doing at the drop of a hat and suddenly hack out a bestseller. While you have yet to witness Michael do this, he really had been wanting one since before the two of you even met; so, to celebrate his new teaching position, you splurged and bought him one.

The laptop is currently switched on.

I won't bother you guys with telling me where to type this code in.
On a side note, the author has stated that June 28th is his wife and his actual anniversary.


>type 0628
(on the laptop)
The passcode window disappears and the screen suddenly fills with text, apparently the last thing Michael was working on before he got up and left.

Your score has just gone up by two points.

Miranda is turning into a real thief/hacker!

>read laptop
Michael has evidently been writing something, but it's not a story; it looks more like some kind of journal entry.

I cannot sleep.

Or perhaps I should say: I must not sleep, since I am perfectly capable of sleep -- in fact, lately sleep has come to me more easily, more quickly, and more insidiously than it ever has before. But I don't want to sleep.

I have been hoping that the terrible dreams would prove to be stress-related, that they would fade once the move was behind us and we had finally settled in -- but that has not turned out to be the case. They're stronger than ever. Red-rimmed eyes pursuing me through strange corridors, and the voice -- the whisperer who tells me I am not who I am. The whisperer tells me secrets of this house, secrets of those who lived here -- they are my blood, and he tells me he always returns to his blood. He tells me of secret keys and combinations; I don't know what they open yet but I have an idea --

Tomorrow I must go down to the cellar. I must see if the things revealed to me in that terrible book are true.

I know she is worried about me. I want to tell her, but --

The entry ends there, unfinished.

You can hear Michael moving around elsewhere in the house, the floorboards creaking uneasily with his footsteps.

>turn off laptop
The screen goes dark.

>look at sphere
You see the room behind you in distorted miniature, and your own face swelling and stretching comically as you peer into the sphere's reflective surface.

Looking closely, you notice some smudges on the otherwise immaculately polished brass.


Miranda will check the sewer again later. Right now, we're kind of trapped in a scheduled.

>turn sphere
The sphere twists clockwise a few degrees, there is a barely audible "click", and the sphere snaps back into its original position. Suddenly, the entire fireplace slides about eighteen inches to the left with a hollow grinding sound, revealing a narrow corridor in the southwest wall.

>

Next update... What's Michael up to?

Items


In Trenchcoat