returning home.

Your browser lacks required capabilities. Please upgrade it or switch to another to continue.

Loading…

<<set $karma to 0>> tires fight against wet gravel. you haven't seen a downpour like this so intense since you were a kid - main street always floods the worst. you figure that, by now, they'd at least pave the streets. you come to a familiar crossroads, and you can't quite remember which street the motel is on. do you go right or left? [[left reminds you of home.]] [[right is where your schoolbus always turned.]]

left reminds you of home. you turn left and are met with a residential district. quaint, pastel houses line both sides of the street, crammed together with only half an acre of land each. if it wasn't for the torrential downpour, it'd almost feel welcoming. you turn down a few roads and realize nothing has changed. you know all of these roads. the only thing missing is leon's ball lodged in the storm drain between huckleberry and morningside. after a few minutes of driving, you find that you're in the wrong part of town. [[turn back.]]

right is where your schoolbus always turned. it's hard to get bearings on your surroundings with your windshield wipers cranked up to ten, but you seem to be in the commercial district, which should be right. cramped, windowshop stores line up next to each other, continuing on from main street. you've never seen this place so empty. you quickly wonder how this place might have changed in the ten years since you've been here, but you don't entertain the thought for too long. the motel is coming up in the distance. [[park your car.]]

park your car. you turn into the loose gravel parking lot and, with a bit of patience for your car, you're able to pull into a parking spot near the entrance of the motel. you get out of the car, jogging to the overhang of the entrance so you don't get absolutely drenched. the lot is mostly empty, save for a vintage car parked by the side, a black truck next to you, and a jeep parked in the very back. slow night, you guess. [[head inside.]]

turn back. feeling dread gather in the pit in your stomach, you turn out of the residential district and back to the intersection from before. you drive forward into the other side of town, feeling that same bitter feeling as you pass different corner shops and antique houses. you catch a glimpse of the motel in the distance and, having enough nostalgia for a lifetime, let out a sigh of relief. [[park your car.]]

head inside. you walk through the tattered, rustic wooden doors to escape the weather, exposing you to a much more temperate climate inside. nebraska always ends up frigid by february; you're lucky you were able to move away so early, you hate the cold. a fireplace is raging to your left of an almost empty lobby. a few wooden beams hold the old place up, and, every time you make a step, you swear you hear creaking. [[inspect the seating area.]] [[check in.]]

inspect the seating area. you near the fireplace, shrugging off your heavy coat as you grow closer. the armchairs, sporting some old, splitted leather, feel almost molten with how close they are to the flames. your eyes run across the mantle of the fireplace, unimpressed by all of the framed photographs. loyal championship winnings of sports teams, signed celebrity photographs, newspaper headlines. this place is so... [[tacky.]] [[charming.]]

check in. you walk through the quaint, little lobby and make your way up to the counter. aside from ma fancy little bowl of mints, a lamp, and a bell, a woman sits there, curled up in her office chair, reading some sort of comic. she's familiar - a woman named ava maraschino, but she's much older now than you've last seen her. you two went to school together since kindergarten, but you never got to graduate together. she's your... [[childhood friend.]] [[childhood nuisance.]]

<<set $karma -=1>> this place is so tacky. you never liked this sort of cheap decor. from coast to coast, every small town seems to do stuff like this. these newspapers haven't seen light since the 80s, you're sure, from the dates on them. don't these people know when to throw shit out? you turn around, thoroughly unimpressed, and sit yourself down in one of the chairs to unwind. you figure you have a bit of time to relax before you have to check in, but -- wait... is that you? [[what?]]

<<set $karma +=1>> this place is so charming. you hate to admit it, but, in a way, you appreciate the history to this place. so many buildings out in california have lost their sense of community - so corportate, so commercial. although you promised yourself you'd never come back here, you can't stop yourself from yearning for that small town community feeling. you turn around and sit yourself down in one of the chairs to unwind. you figure you have a bit of time to relax before you have to check in, but -- wait... is that you? [[what?]]

what? you perk your head up from the seat and notice the woman standing at the desk of the lobby. her small, warm face is framed by a pair of wire-rimmed glasses, and her eyebrows always seem to be knit in worry. she's familiar - a woman named ava maraschino, but she's much older now than you've last seen her. you two went to school together since kindergarten, but you never got to graduate together. she's your... [[childhood friend.]] [[childhood nuisance.]]

<<set $karma +=1>> childhood friend. as much as you were relieved to get out of this hell hole, you did leave some decent people behind. ava was one of those very few, of a number you could probably count on one hand. school was rough, and neither of you were particularly likable, but you made it through together. people like her remind you that not everyone in the world is out to get you. [[ava, it's good to see you.]]

<<set $karma -=1>> childhood nuisance. some people just don't know when to leave you alone. this girl has been glued to your side since grade school, and, although she was fun at first, it got old quick. you swear she had a crush on you, but that might just be your ego talking. she's so loud too. maybe you can pretend you're someone else and get through this relatively painlessly. [[stay silent.]]

ava, it's good to see you. you stand up from your seat and walk over to the desk, dreading the thought of a long conversation, but not hating the idea of having to talk to her. your drive has been incredibly long, and you really just want to crash, but, with her, you doubt it'll be that easy. you look so different now! you've changed your hair and you've got glasses now -- ooh, i've heard from eleanor that you live in LA! that must be so exciting! have you ever run into any celebrities there? that must be the coolest, nothing ever happens in this dumb town and oh, god i wish i went to college with you! imagine how fun that would've been-- [[oh god.]]

you stay silent. silly, i know you can hear me. it's me, ava! come on over! shit. [[talk to her.]]

oh god. you need to stop this, and fast. she can talk for hours. ava-- why don't we go get some coffee together tomorrow? we could really catch up then, gosh it's been so long since we've been able to talk, so many people from our school are married now, just wait and s-- you need to stop this quickly. [[promise to talk to her later.]] [[lie to her.]]

talk to her. hey ava, it's been... wow, uh-- you look so different now! you've changed your hair and you've got glasses now -- ooh, i've heard from eleanor that you live in LA! that must be so exciting! have you ever run into any celebrities there? that must be the coolest, nothing ever happens in this dumb town and oh, god i wish i went to college with you! imagine how fun that would've been-- [[oh god.]]

<<set $karma +=1>> promise to talk to her later. listen, ava, i'd love to catch up with you, but i'm really tired. can we talk some more tomorrow? ava looks a bit deflated at that, but, thanks to your kindness, she doesn't seem too hurt. resigned, she nods, and you notice her face turns red. dammit, she's probably embarrassed now. [[reassure her.]] [[ignore it.]]

<<set $karma -=1>> lie to her. listen, ava, it's great to see you again, but i really gotta head to bed. why don't we... make some plans to talk tomorrow? i think i still have your number. there's no way you still have her number. she seems a bit taken aback by being cut off, but there isn't anything you can do about that. you're exhausted -- california to nebraska is a huge trip, and you don't want to just play around. [[ignore it.]]

<<set $karma +=1>> reassure her. we'll get some coffee tomorrow, alright? if that place on the corner of main street is still open, we can check it out. ava's humiliated expression slowly fades back out. you've pacified her, at least for now. i'd love that. suddenly, she shakes her head, as if she's forgotten something. ah -- your key, i'm sorry! is the reservation under hardwick? ... sinclair, actually. who's that -- a friend? no, it's me. there's a sudden, prolonged silence, simply due to ava's confusion. she's always known you with the last name hardwick, and you expected some of this kind of response coming back here, but it still hurts. after the silence settles, she slowly nods, accepting this change. she understands. ... here's your key, sinclair. [[go outside.]]

<<set $karma -=1>> ignore it. yeah, you can text me -- i-if you want. here -- your room key. ava reaches under the desk and quickly looks through the reservation list, but she seems a bit puzzled. is the reservation under hardwick? ... sinclair, actually. who's that -- a friend? no, it's me. there's a sudden, prolonged silence, simply due to ava's confusion. she's always known you with the last name hardwick, and you expected some of this kind of response coming back here, but it still hurts. after the silence settles, she slowly nods, accepting this change. she understands. ... here's your key, sinclair. [[go outside.]]

go outside. you walk out of the lobby back out into the biting cold air. it's completely dark by now, but the lights of the motel are pretty clear, if not a bit dingy and yellow, so you're able to spot your room at the end of the hall pretty clearly. you pick up your bag and walk under the overhang of the first floor. your room is next to the stairway to the second floor, but you aren't mad -- it was at a discount. you look at the front door -- room 101 -- and confirm that this is in fact your room. [[go into your motel room.]]

go into your hotel room. you walk inside and shut the door behind you, taking in the modest room of one queen bed, an old, clunky, television barely held up by some stained display case, a desk with a wooden chair and no cushion, one bedside table, a... leg lamp, and sheer curtains. the moon is already peering through your window, bathing the dim room in a cool, blue moonlight. you sit down on the bed, not particularly picky about the stiff bed you end up with. you place your head in your hands, exhausted, and let out a stressed sigh. [[go out for a smoke.]] [[turn in early.]]

<<set $dahlia to 1>> go out for a smoke. you figure a cigarette might help with all of this stress going on. you walk back outside the motel room into the hallway, faced with the wet parking lot you ran through before. you pull over a plastic lawn chair and sit down, taking a pack of cigarettes and lighter out of your pocket. you've never really missed this shithole. it has its charm, but so does every other small town in the us. looking back at it, you only see a town filled with hate. they look at you like an outsider, especially now. you take a long drag of your cigarette, happy to return to your real home soon. [[thump.]]

turn in early. you look behind you at the black alarm clock, reading the glaring numbers in the dark room. 11:31. you've always been more of a night person, but your body hasn't been through this much strain in a long time. you kick off your shoes and set them by the television, scooting back into bed so your back meets the pillows. they look like pillows your grandmother would have -- quilted, embroidered, better for decoration than comfort. you decide that these pillows were definitely ava's decision. you pull the blanket over yourself, comforted by the heavy material, and turn to your side. you close your eyes, ready to let sleep take over, until-- [[thud.]]

thud. your eyes open as the blunt sound of a thud resounds above you -- probably a room on an upper floor. you squint, assuming it must be a suitcase hitting the floor, and you close your eyes again, disgruntled. a groan follows after, though, and you open your eyes again. that's... odd -- it sounds an awful lot like a person, and, as you sit up, you feel your anxiety sink your stomach down to your feet. you aren't sure why a groan matters at all to you, but... something about this feels wrong. [[investigate.]]

thump. you straighten up in your seat, surprised at a loud sound that came from above you -- the second floor. you have no idea what it could've been, but it sounded heavy, and you feel your hairs stand on end. you tell yourself to keep calm, but something inside you is uneased, and you quietly put out your cigarette on the arm of the chair. the sound of a door creaking open comes from above, and that's enough for you to feel like something is very wrong. <<if $karma>1>> [[go back inside.]] <<else>> [[stay outside.]] <</if>>

<<set $karma +=1>> go back inside. you walk back over to your door, opening it, but it's too late. you cross inside as a figure walks briskly down the stairwell, shrouded in a black rain jacket concealing most of their figure. you stop in your tracks, studying the figure -- they don't seem to notice you as they turn around the side corner of the motel. you make it back inside, shutting the door. you aren't sure why your heart is racing. is that person gone? why are you afraid of them in the first place? [[peer back outside.]]

investigate. natural curiosity is a necessity as an investigative journalist, but god, does it get to be frustrating sometimes. you know that awful feeling in your gut won't be satiated until you have a look at what's going on, so with a huff, you pull your hoodie back on and head outside. it's so quiet. eerily quiet, even by nightshade standards. it doesn't seem like even the crickets want to come out tonight, and it's almost as if the ants scurrying around your feet are the only thing keeping you company tonight. your jaw tightens as you look around the shabby motel exterior, trying to find the source of the noise before-- another groan. your heart jumps at that. you look up, now knowing it's from the second floor, and narrow your eyes at the metal staircase. well, there's really no other option... [[go upstairs.]]

there doesn't seem to be anyone there anymore. whoever that person was, they're gone. [[investigate.]]

go upstairs. quickly but quietly, you make your way up the metal stairs, footsteps pattering gently across the rusted metal. your back meets the brick wall and awkwardly, you sidle across to the source of the noise, the fibers of your hoodie getting caught in between the crevices. you clench your teeth and stay firmly within the shadows, anticipating the next hint. labored panting. if you weren't listening hard enough, you definitely would have missed it. you inch closer and closer, and you find yourself right next to room 211. in reality, the panting had only just become a little louder, but to you, it feels like it pounds in your head. the door is slightly ajar -- whoever had used it didn't care enough to close it; that, or they didn't have time. you crane your neck slightly forward, trying to squint into the room, but no luck. it's pitch black, and with only the slightest slither of light filtering into the room, you can't make out anything. something tells you that it'd just be utterly tactless for you to just burst into the room, but... this person could be in danger. you take a deep breath, knowing that you simply can't stop here -- you're bound now. [[slowly open the door.]]

slowly open the door. in many ways, this room is the same as your own. same bed, same television, same transparent drapes. however, that's where the similarities end. the lights are turned off, but the scene in front of you is clear, illuminated by the yellowed lights behind you. there is a body on the floor, stained in blood and clinging pathetically onto themself, still breathing. they're alive. they're hurt. and they don't seem to notice you. [[speak up.]] [[approach them.]]

<<set $karma -=1>> stay outside. against what your common sense tells you, you stay outside and head over to the staircase. your body goes stone cold as you hear the sound of footsteps against the metal steps, and you're only able to stumble a few steps back before you see a shadowed figure walk down the metal stairs. you gasp, on edge, and the person looks back at you. you two lock eyes, and you instantly realize you're in danger. this feels like some bad luck. she is a pale woman with a bony face structure and dark, intense eyes. her lips are pursed into a tight line, and her black hair hangs in her face, sticking out from her hood. she looks like she'd kick a puppy and feel nothing. she stops, looking at you. she has something she's reaching for in her pocket, but it's concealed. what do you do? [[run.]] [[try to restrain her.]]

run. those eyes mean danger. whatever she did up there, you don't want to find out. you quickly stagger back and make a break for the lobby, terrified to look back. you can hear footsteps behind you, getting closer and closer - the sound of heavy boots against pavement. it feels like an eternity, but you make it onto the patio of the lobby, and the door is within arm's distance. [[get inside.]] [[look back.]]

try to restrain her. without thinking, you lunge forward and try to grab at her. sadly, you aren't much of a fighter -- soccer in college didn't teach you much self defense. the woman pulls out a gun, and you barely have any time to react before you're slammed against the stairway. your skull hits metal, and, as you're recovering from blurry vision, you feel cold metal press against the side of your head. mind your own business. the world goes black. [[maybe you shouldn't have done that unarmed...|thump.]]

get inside. you run inside the door and, with just enough time to shut it behind you, you frantically lock the door. The handle is shaken a few times, but, sensing that it's a lost effort, it stops. your heart is pounding out of your chest. you swallow hard, feeling your knees buckle, and you lean against the door in terror. you look out to the lobby and it's empty. ava is gone, and, you assume, so is everyone else for the night. you collapse to your knees and give yourself some time to recover. [[get a hold of yourself.]]

look back. you look back, and the woman is right behind you. hesitating isn't the right move here, especially when you don't know who you're dealing with. as you look back, her arm grabs you by the back of your sweatshirt, pulling you back. an arm wraps around your neck, and, as you're pulled back, you're slammed down to the floor. she's surprisingly strong for her appearance. you try to scramble up, try to scream, but it's too late. her arm lands on your shoulder and you're pinned down to the concrete. you're dazed. you look up at her, and the muzzle of a gun stares back. cleaning you up is going to be a nuisance. your vision goes dark. [[maybe if you did things differently...|thump.]]

get a hold of yourself. you grip your hoodie with your hand and relax your body, taking a deep breath. you stand up after you muster up enough strength to, and, looking through the crack in the door, the person seems to be gone. [[check to see if she's gone.]] [[wait. no, it's dangerous.]]

<<set $safe to 1>> check to see if she's gone. you reach out and unlock the door, slowly opening the door to get an idea of your surroundings. you've given her a bit of time to wait, so it's entirely possible that she's run off by now. determining that she must be gone, you quickly make your way to the staircase, feeling your heart still threaten to break out of your chest. [[go upstairs.]]

wait. no, it's dangerous. yeah. staying in here won't keep you safe forever, though. [[ugh.|get a hold of yourself.]]

speak up. <<if $karma<0>> strangely enough, you don't feel terribly sympathetic. you fear for yourself first, and you can't let yourself get emotional right now. ... are you alive? the person groans quietly and slowly picks up their head, meeting you with blood-stained cheeks and tired eyes. do i look dead? [[you don't look terribly alive.]] <<else>> oh... oh god... you widen your eyes at the mangled person in front of you, feeling your legs tense up. the room is filling up with the stench of gore, and you've never been good at covering those things up. the person groans quietly and slowly picks up their head, meeting you with blood-stained cheeks and tired eyes. they're alive. ... m-mind helping me before i bleed out? [[uh.]] <</if>>

approach them. without a word, you make your way over to the stranger, overwhelmed by the sight of blood dripping down from their shirt. you squat down and try to roll them onto their back, but you're met with a bit of resistance. w-- wha-- <<if karma>1>> i'm -- i'm here to help. do you have first aid? the person slowly opens their eyes, wincing at the light from the hallway. they're still curled in on themself, but, when they look up at you, they're bewildered. ... y-yeah. my bag... <<else>> s-stop fucking moving, you'll bleed out. let me help. the person slowly opens their eyes, wincing at the light from the hallway. they're still curled in on themself, but, when they look up at you, they're bewildered. do you have first aid? they nod, weakly gesturing to their bag. <</if>> [[help patch the stranger up.]]

you don't look terribly alive. sorry... i've had a bad day. c-can you help me already? <<if karma<1>> you were told never to trust strangers. you squint at them, feeling that same uneasiness as before. you hesitate. hello? [[how can i trust you?]] <<else>> you cave, watching the blood pool on the hardwood floor, and get close to the stranger. [[help patch the stranger up.]] <</if>>

uh. you hesitate, and the stranger flinches in pain. they seem to notice your confliction, and they roll their eyes impatiently. i'm k-kind of dying here. i have first aid in my bag. you cave, watching the blood pool on the hardwood floor, and get close to the stranger. [[help patch the stranger up.]]

how can i trust you? i'm not exactly in shape to stab you, buddy. i'd rather just stay alive. you watch them shiver violently in pain and try to sit themself up. the look on their face is enough to sway your pity, and you make your way over to patch them up. [[who are you?]]

help patch the stranger up. you walk over to the bed, clean as ever with blood all over the floor. a suitcase sits on top of the bed, and you open up one of the main zippers. [[pick up first aid kit.]] [[investigate further.]]

who are you? you ask a lot of questions. i have bandages in my suitcase. that isn't what you asked, but you're in no place right now to be stubborn. [[help patch the stranger up.]]

<<set $karma+=1>> pick up first aid kit. you pick up the first aid kit, then head back to the stranger before they bleed out. [[patch them up.]]

<<set $karma -=1>> investigate further. you peer deeper into the bag, pretending to still look for it, and you find a sealed bag of some sort of pink powder, unlabeled. next to it is a significant amount of money, easily into the thousands, all cash. you raise your eyebrows in surprise, then snatch the first aid kit, shutting the bag. [[patch them up.]]

patch them up. you get to work on helping them, no questions asked. you sit them up, despite the gasps and yelps in pain, and wrap gauze around their torso. whatever weapon was used to stab them has been removed, so you know you need to prioritize cutting off the gash from open air. after a few minutes, they seem to be in a stable state, leaning back against the window on the floor. <<if $dahlia>0>> [[did that woman do this?]] <<else>> [[who the hell are you?]] <</if>>

did that woman do this? the one heading down the stairs? the stranger laughs hoarsely. that bitch -- she ran off? what a fucking coward. <<if $safe>0>> she, uh... chased me first -- saw me heading out of my room. i thought i was gonna die. she definitely would've killed you. comforting. <</if>> who is she? just some girl i've been trying to get rid of for a while. she doesn't let up easy. name's mckevitt, by the way. [[why did she try to kill you?]]

who the hell are you? the person looks up at you, unimpressed. thanks for saving me, pal. name's mckevitt. i'm sure you're gonna ask why i was bleeding next -- don't bother. some girl came in here and stabbed me. the way mckevitt says these things so nonchalantly doesn't sit well with you. you frown at them. [[why did she try to kill you?]]

why did she try to kill you? mckevitt stops for a moment, as if they hesitate on telling you something. if i tell you, i'll have to kill you. you usually don't take jokes like this seriously, but something about that chills you to your core. you blink at mckevitt blankly, taking the threat genuinely. something in their eyes says it isn't a joke. [[i'd rather survive, thanks.]]

i'd rather survive, thanks. mckevitt snorts, flinching in pain as their body seizes up. something about you just cracks them up. you'd better start running, then. excuse me? my job doesn't like it when civilians see me at all. ... [[bullshit.]]

no, that's bullshit. mckevitt rolls their eyes and winces as they reach for something behind them - their own pocket knife. they hold it playfully, flicking it a few times so you can get a good look at the blade. don't test me, bud. [[what the hell do you want me to do, then?]]

what the hell do you want me to do, then? nothing about this makes any sense. the bleeding, the stabbing, the woman after this stranger, the sudden threats -- you came here for a journalism job, not this... this... chaos. if you're offering, i'd love some help in killing the girl who stabbed me. [[are you kidding me?]]

are you kidding me? i'm not suicidal. whether or not you ran into her, i'm sure she saw you come in here with me. she knows you exist, and, without me, you'll be dead in a week tops. you pale at mckevitt's dark humor, but all they do is smile back at you. i'm your best shot at getting away from her alive. she's got her eyes on this place still -- there's safety in numbers. [[fine.]] [[no way.]]

... fine. [[but it's just to keep me alive.]] [[the world sounds like it'd be better without her.]] [[you seem to need someone to protect you, too.]]

no way. [[how do you expect me to believe you?]] [[i'm not just giving up my life to chase some woman who hates you.]] [[i can take care of myself.]]

but it's just to keep me alive. mckevitt laughs, which only makes you feel worse. whatever you need to tell yourself, big guy.

the world sounds like it'd be better without her. mckevitt smirks, raising an eyebrow. they seem impressed. i like the sound of that. let's kick her ass.

you seem to need someone to protect you, too. mckevitt scoffs, rolling their eyes. we'll see about that, hot shot.

how do you expect me to believe you? mckevitt grins. i think the knife that went into my gut was more than enough proof. whether or not you like it, we're a team.

i can take care of myself. mckevitt smiles knowingly. you're acting like you have a choice in this.

i'm not giving up my life just to chase some woman who hates you. mckevitt looks you in the eyes, almost pouting. they seem annoyed. you don't have much of a choice.