The Roommate

You're standing in a fairly modern caretaker's office overlooking the [[Museum of Fine Curios]]. The plexiglass wall facing toward the museum is the only barrier between you and [[the grinning death outside]]. You nervously stare at the adjoining door's electronic lock. [[Six months of experience|Experience]] have taught you that at midnight, the building's power will shut off for one full minute. Something tells you a minute is plenty of time for the visitor outside to come in and enact whatever it's planning. Almost on cue, the cloud's grin is replaced with a veiny purple tongue, its upward tip sliding across the outside of its...mouth? Can an entity without a face have a mouth? More importantly, it seems to know what [[you're-|Thinking]]

A fairly new attraction meant for the display and studying of bizarre artifacts, occupying the top two floors of a towering office building in Chicago. The owner used to be the CEO of DIY Workbench, a wildly successful chain of craft stores themed after the inside of a garage. After one too many political scandals and a failed attempt to sell repackaged tap water as "Grail Juice," he stepped down to build a collection of books, gadgets and supposedly haunted pots that would make even the biggest tourist trap blush! You suspect that some of the artifacts were acquired through questionable means (doubt that Customs went through , but you aren't too worried about that [[right now.|Introduction]]

To be fair, this one's on you. Sort of. After your shift, you walked all the way home, only to realize you left your apartment keys back at the museum. So you trundled back in, frantically sprinting around the place, and ended up tripping right into a jade green vase without any protective case or guardrail. As you tumbled to the ground, the vase shattered, and an immense amount of thick, white smoke started billowing from its remains. Now, you weren't much of a believer in folklore or ghost stories, but when something unexpected pops out of an item at an occult museum, you fucking *run*. The best move would have been to head for the exit, but your ridiculous human brain was more concerned with the fact that you still didn't have your keys. Without looking back, you sprinted up to the second floor office, locked the door behind you, and took a deep breath before realizing the gas had followed you upstairs, sporting...a toothy smile? That can't be right, can it? [[Anyway...|Introduction]]

Part-time jobs in Chicago aren't in too short supply, but you were looking for something that seemed a bit more "academic" on your resume than bagging groceries or flipping burgers. In a hilarious twist of fate, you soon realized that your new "museum" gig was a slightly classier take on a wax museum or "Strange But True!" exhibits that played fast and loose with the definition of truth. Sure, it looked like an on-the-level museum from the outside, but that impression was quickly dashed once you found the placards for Arthurian Love Potion and Ritualistic Stonehenge Dagger. Apparently, with the right name and decor, you can make the tallest of tales look scholarly! How did you know about the lock? Well, let's just say that one simple-minded curator accidentally left their badge in their office, and that one unlucky worker was ordered to come back at midnight and retrieve the ID card. Since then, they've bumped your badge's privileges to open the door at any time, but the midnight trick remains. Something about a bug that the lock's designers never bothered patching. If you get out of this mess in one piece, you'll probably make a renewed push to get that damn lock replaced. [[Anyway...|Introduction]]

**Thinking? Of course I do.** The voice bellows from no particular direction, though you still swing around the room, looking for the source. **Outside of the window, bozo! Though if you're curious about where the sound is coming from, you need look no further than your own head.** But this...this means that- **That's right! Don't worry, though, your thoughts and mine are still separate. For now. Think of me as a potential roommate, viewing your house: if I like what I see, I just might move in with you. Only, once that lock loses power, you'll practically invite me to stay, free of charge. Don't believe me? I can be rather...persuasive.** The Roommate seems self-assured that this is a done deal. You glance down at your watch and feel your stomach churn. **11:00 PM, huh? We'll have plenty of time to learn about one another! I'm-oh, right, you're already calling me Roommate! That's a much friendlier name: let's stick with that one [[for now.|Threatened Change]]**

**And your name is Patrick Gates, no? I mean, it says so on your badge, so this probably isn't the most impressive mind-reading you've ever been subjected to. But I also know that your mother calls you Sweetie, your middle school tormentors named you Dogbreath, and your thoroughly embarrassing drinking buddy calls you P-Dog.** You clench your left hand into a fist. **Sorry: you *hate* those nicknames, and you're even more bothered that I managed to find them all. I'm sorry I did that to you, but you didn't seem to understand the scope of the situation. I know you. I know the address to your apartment, the songs on your favorite playlist and the college you plan on attending once you've raised enough money to pursue it seriously. I've practically known you for your whole life, and we've only just met! And you know what they say about familiarity breeding trust, right? So I'm going to tell you something about me...** A chill runs through your body as you prepare for your Roommate's next words. **I am Selena. I once had plans to rule this fine planet, but someone went and trapped me in that vase you just broke. Now that I'm free, I think [[we could help each other out.|Help]]**

You realize that you've been listening to the Roommate...Selena rant for ten minutes. Whether she's just naturally talkative or buying herself time, you can't afford to let her ramble on like that: you have to act quickly, or you won't have much say in this whole "Possession" business. Your eyes dart around the room, landing on three objects of interest. [[A thin bookcase sits in the top-left corner.|Bookcase]] [[The desk in the middle of the room has a laptop sitting in its docking station.|Desk]] Finally, [[an alphebetized filing cabinet resides in the far-right corner.|Filing Cabinet]] You might have time to search them all, but don't dawdle.

Unlike most furniture scattered around the museum, this bookcase looks like an abandoned assembly project. If you rubbed your finger against the edges, you're almost certain that you would pick up a splinter or two, and the opened back seems unintentional. Maybe the owner demanded at least one DIY Workbench product, for old times' sake? Regardless of this bookshelf's shoddy state, you have a few titles to choose from. [[Ancient Artifacts: A Tutoring Channel Expose|AA]] [[So, You Broke An Artifact And Unleashed A Malevolent Entity. What Now?|Story]] [[I Saw The Signs: Reviews of Paranomal Films|Signs]]

You plop down in front of the computer, shaking the mouse to power on the screen. Thankfully, the curator doesn't keep their PC password-protected, and you soon find yourself on the desktop. The museum never bothered installing public or private wi-fi systems, citing it as an unnecessary expense when most folks already have cellular access and should stare at the exhibits instead. Still, you search the C: drive for anything you can find, and soon discover a video titled *Capturing a Malicious Spirit.* A man in a tweed jacket is introduced as Dr. Cornelious Johnson, an associate professor at the Cambridge Paranormal Academy. You listen intently as he starts his spiel... *"OK, let's assume that you've already stunned the apparition: next, you'll need to find a suitable home, or vessel, that can contain it. While they're in their stunned state, it becomes physically possible to pick the entity up and plop it into a container, but without the right preparations, it will only be trapped for approximately 24 hours. If you're only looking for a quick getaway, this should offer plenty of time, but without priming the trap through-"* ...through? The sound suddenly cut out. You rewind to make sure that the video itself isn't at fault, only to find that the earlier parts went quiet, too. Panicking, you bang on the desk, clap near your ears, even scream at the top of your lungs: nothing can break through the silence. **Well, that's not [[entirely true...|AfterDesk1]]**

The matte gray filing cabinet has three different drawers, each labeled with the corresponding letters they encompass. [[Open A-G.|A-G]] [[Open H-R.|H-R]] [[Open S-Z.|S-Z]]

You hesistantly pull the book from its shelf, eyeing the cover. A remarkably tanned individual with a birds' nest for hair has his hands thrown up like he's deep in a conversation. Whatever that conversation is, it's probably not what you're [[looking for.|Bookcase]]

Well, this one seems perfectly applicable to the situation at hand! You flip to the Table of Contents, then find *What If The Vessel Broke?* *Oh, dear. Reusing the same vessel is the safest way to trap a spirit: it has already proven capable of the job at hand. However, all is not lost. Simply recite the entity's name backwards, three times in a row, and it will be dazed for a limited time. Then, cra-* The rest of the words suddenly blur, rendered impossible to read. As far as you can tell, your own vision hasn't taken a hit: you can still see close-up and far-away objects with perfect clarity. You look back at the patient cloud, which seems to be...[[smirking?|SelenaSmirk]]

Sigh. Unless *The Mummy* used something other than Hollywood screenwriting to trap its wayward spirit, this book is useless. Better [[return it to the shelf...|Bookcase]]

**Oh, goodie, it worked! I was *super* worried for a moment back there: here you were, holding the perfect way to end our little session before it even began, and I couldn't do a thing about it behind this glass! But then I remembered that I already have one foot in the door of your mind, and the longer I stay up there, the more I can do.** **So I dug around for a painless solution that would stop you in your tracks. All I had to do was flip one little switch, and BAM! For the time being, you can no longer comprehend English letters. Don't worry: the spoken word still comes through without any distortions! I just can't have you reading your way out when we still have *so* much to talk about!** Time continues to pass, but Selena might lose her patience if you don't [[hear her out...|Tempt1]]

**While you've been searching for a way to kick me out, I've been flipping through your life up to this point-think of it like a home movie reel-and I'm sorry, but the malevolent spirit you haphazardly released has to get real for a moment: you're a boring person! Here you are, working a part-time job to save for college, drinking on the weekends, pursuing a girlfriend...it's all so predictable, you know? If you were optioned for a biopic, they'd title the screenplay *It's an Average Life*. It makes me want to yawn, and I can't imagine you appreciate it that much, either.** **I like you, pal, and you deserve better! If you team up with me, I will guarantee that we'll rarely have a dull moment. A god doesn't need a student loan: as a matter of fact, loans, even tuition will be relics of the past once we're done with them! Want to see the world? I promise, after we're done in America, pick any spot on the map and we'll raze it together. I'll also be making a few changes to your appearance, and once you're ready, you won't have much trouble finding someone to date. Y'know, if your current date isn't cool with an all-powerful girlf-** **Oops, I've said too much already. Let's table this for now? After all, you only have [[twenty-five minutes left.|25min1]]**

Shit. You kind of wanted to hear where that was goingNO. No. She's playing you like a fiddle, and it's working. You still have 25 minutes to search, and you can't let any of it go to waste. Even if your vision's gone to shit, you should still [[check the computer|ComputerAfterBookcase]] or [[dig through the filing cabinet.|CabinetAfterBookcase]]

You plop down in front of the computer, shaking the mouse to power on the screen. Thankfully, the curator doesn't keep their PC password-protected, and you soon find yourself on the desktop. That little trick Selena played back at the bookcase is still in full effect, but luckily for you, you're a touch typist. You open the C: drive, search for videos, and swiftly open the first .mp4 file you can find. A poe-faced man in a tweed jacket is introduced by an incomprehensible title card, so you focus on what he has to say instead. *"OK, let's assume that you've already stunned the apparition: next, you'll need to find a suitable home, or vessel, that can contain it. While they're in their stunned state, it becomes physically possible to pick the entity up and plop it into a container, but without the right preparations, it will only be trapped for approximately 24 hours. If you're only looking for a quick getaway, this should offer plenty of time, but without priming the trap through-"* The video suddenly goes quiet. You check its volume levels: everything is still set to 100%, as are the audio settings on the computer itself. You try snapping, whistling, even tapping the table, but all remains silent. Everything, that is, except for Selena's disarmingly calm voice. **Patrick, why are you so set on sending me away? Here we are, having a heart-to-heart conversation, and off you go, watching YouTube instead of paying attention! But don't worry, I've fixed that for us. No more distractions, no more boring professors discussing the *proper* way to seal me in against my will: now, the only thing you'll be able to hear is me!** **It's for the best, because [[we need to talk about something.|TGACAB]]**

**SOOOO! Remember how I just destroyed your ability to read the English language? I'm not so sure that the bookcase will do you much good right now. Feel free to [[search somewhere else,|ComputerAfterBookcase]] if you're really dead-set on cutting our lovely converstation short.**

Despite your currently dire circumstances, you feel more...receptive toward whatever she's planning to bring up next. **So...you might have noticed that I abruptly ended our conversation earlier. To be honest, I didn't quite know how you were going to take the next part. However, since that last chat, I've had some time to sink even deeper into that noggin of yours. Prying this from your thoughts wasn't easy, believe me: you have an impressively guarded fortress up there!** **Still, I want to be careful when I ask this next question, as I know how...invasive I've been throughout our time together. And whatever comes next, please remember that I won't be angry, upset, disgusted with your response. Whatever comes next is between you and me. Obviously, no one else is listening to our mental conversation in a locked museum at midnight, but I just wanted to make that clear.** Selena pauses for what feels like a solid minute. Is she doing this to buy time, or- **[[Do you want to be a girl?|Girl1]]**

*W-WHAT* **See? That's why I wanted to be delicate about this. It's an awkward thing for anyone to ask upfront, especially when you've only known me for the past few hours. Please hear me out-** *NO, THIS ISN'T HAPPENING, HOW COULD THIS-* **Plugging your ears won't block out telepathy, OK? Please, put your hands down for a second. I'm asking you nicely, please hear me out.** ...ok. **I've seen the way you shift, ever since you hit puberty. The discomfort you feel around...around there. I relieved your envy when the women around you looked so happy, fulfilled with their existence, while you were quietly suffering in what felt like a prison. I can tell that you want to leave this place and be done with me, but first, please be honest with yourself.** **If you could just press a button and live as a woman instead...would you do it?** ... ..... [[...yes.|Girl2]]

Selena's voice warms. **What if I told you that I can make that happen? Once I'm well and truly inside, I'll just make a few changes and you'll feel *so* much better. Just a few minutes of your time, a light tickling sensation, and we're all done! I understand you're anxious about giving yourself over to this frightening spirit that spilled out of some vase, but trust me when I say that I only want what's best for you. I only want what's best for *us.*** *Us?* **Sure! I mean, it's only natural that once I'm in, certain aspects of your personality will be modified to suit my needs, but I want this to be a partnership between us. I won't be boxing you into a corner: you'll have some input over where we go, what we do and who we're with, even if my grander plans for the world take priority from time to time. I want you to be happy with yourself, and I can make that happen, no sweat.** **How about it? I know you still have some time before the door practically opens on its own, but hiding doesn't feel as necessary anymore, does it? We're friends, not enemies: there's no point in erecting barriers between us!** *Friends...us...happy...together...* [[NO!|LastSearch1]]

Selena lets out a large sigh. **Fine, have it your way. Wait for my arrival, if you must: you and I both know that without your ability to read or hear, you can't search that filing cabinet. But I can feel your resolve wavering, your consciousness growing used to my presence. As I keep sinking into your brain, I'll twist and turn whatever I can until you can only accept the truth: this is what you need. This is what you *want.*** I guess this is it, then. She'll glide through that door in less than five minutes, and *we will finally be together-*NO, GET OUT. You remember the plan from before, grab the nearby wastebasket, *as if that could possibly keep us apart-*GRAB THE NEARBY WASTEBASKET, WALK TO THE BACK OF THE ROOM, AND WAIT. The wait only makes things worse. You're grappling with your thoughts, reminding yourself that you're only waiting to trap a nefarious spirit. You won't let her in. You won't let her in. You won't *let yourself be happy, why won't you let yourself be happy, why won't you accept us*I WON'T, I CAN'T! The panel on the lock goes out. The cloud from outside turns the handle, opens the door, floats in, arms outstretched, preparing to embrace you- [[ANELES, ANELES, ANELES!|BadEnd]] *[[let us be whole|GoodEnd]]*

Selena freezes in place, arms grasping for your head. As quick as you can (you aren't aware of how long the stun may last), you lift your left hand, grab a tuft of the cloud, and slam it into the wastebasket. The rest soon follows, piece by piece, until it sits at the bottom, shifting around as if it were generated from a fog machine. You worry about the lack of a containing lid, but you appear to have plenty of time to evacuate the building before Selena wakes up again. As you head out, you find your missing keys right near the entrance: you never expected you'd leave them here, but hey, they've been left in weirder places before. You sprint back to your apartment, lock the door behind you, and climb into bed. You leave a voicemail for the morning shift, asking them to leave the wastebasket alone and have the curator call you as soon as they're in. As you drift to sleep, you're just thankful that you managed to banish the spirit's influence from your mind, once and for all. **...we'll see [[about that.|Credits]]**

*I've made up my mind. Take me.* As the approaching cloud flies ever closer, you instinctively use your index finger to open your mouth ever so slightly. You can feel the smoke as it slides in, expands, settling in every inch of your body. You collapse onto the carpeted floor, flinching as wave after wave of euphoric shock runs from your head to your toes. Muscles tighten and contract, and once-stationary pieces of bone and fat find themselves shifting, spreading, pinching. You can feel your least favorite appendage as it shrinks and shrinks, then disappears entirely as a brand-new hole takes its place. Your shirt feels tighter as your upper chest grows: you look down and watch as it continues to rise and round out. **Well? Do you like what you see? Do you like what you *feel?*** *...Y-yes. Thank you.* Your scalp starts to tickle. You could swear your hair feels a bit thicker than it was before. **I'm so GLAD! Now, before we set out for some real fun, I just thought you should know that our thoughts will be merging completely soon. Patrick as an individual entity will be gone: you will be me, I will be you, and it will be virtually impossible to ever separate us again. Do you understand?** *I do.* **Excellent. Let me just push these two bits together, aaaand***it's done. How are we feeling now?* *As the last traces of Patrick's body fade away, we are immensely satisfied. We snap our fingers and the room instantly ignites, removing all evidence that the curator had kept on us. We glide out of the room, down the stairs, leaving the museum's fate to the flames. Whether the rest of the complex remains by the end of the evening is not our concern.* *We have plenty of lost time to reclaim. They thought we were nobodies, forever weighed down by a 9-to-5 in an uncaring society: they thought they could make an example out of us, forcing us into a vase for the rest of eternity.* *Soon, we'll show them all just how [[wrong they were.|Credits]]*

The Roommate was created by Jennifer Unkle for Ludum Dare 39. Twitter: @jbu3 [[Play again?|Introduction]]

**Oh, goodie, it worked! I was *super* worried for a moment back there: here you were, viewing the perfect way to end our little session before it even began, and I couldn't do a thing about it behind this glass! But then I remembered that I already have one foot in the door of your mind, and the longer I stay up there, the more I can do.** **So I dug around for a painless solution that would stop you in your tracks. All I had to do was flip one little switch, and BAM! For the time being, the only thing you can hear is my lovely voice. Don't worry: in time, you'll be able to hear again! I just can't have you puzzling your way out when we still have *so* much to talk about!** Time continues to pass, but Selena might lose her patience if you don't [[hear her out...|Tempt2]]

Shit. You kind of wanted to hear where that was goingNO. No. She's playing you like a fiddle, and it's working. You still have 25 minutes to search, and you can't let any of it go to waste. Even if your vision's gone to shit, you should still [[check the bookcase|BookcaseAfterComputer]] or [[dig through the filing cabinet.|CabinetAfterComputer]]

Unlike most furniture scattered around the museum, this bookcase looks like an abandoned assembly project. If you rubbed your finger against the edges, you're almost certain that you would pick up a splinter or two, and the opened back seems unintentional. Maybe the owner demanded at least one DIY Workbench product, for old times' sake? Regardless of this bookshelf's shoddy state, you have a few titles to choose from. Thankfully, none of them are audiobooks, or you'd be shit out of luck. [[Ancient Artifacts: A Tutoring Channel Expose|AA2]] [[So, You Broke An Artifact And Unleashed A Malevolent Entity. What Now?|Story2]] [[I Saw The Signs: Reviews of Paranomal Films|Signs2]]

The matte gray filing cabinet has three different drawers, each labeled with the corresponding letters they encompass. [[Open A-G.|A-G2]] [[Open H-R.|H-R2]] [[Open S-Z.|S-Z2]]

Well, this one seems perfectly applicable to the situation at hand! You flip to the Table of Contents, then find *What If The Vessel Broke?* *Oh, dear. Reusing the same vessel is the safest way to trap a spirit: it has already proven capable of the job at hand. However, all is not lost. Simply recite the entity's name backwards, three times in a row, and it will be dazed for a limited time. Then, cra-* The rest of the words suddenly blur, rendered impossible to read. It looks like Selena's playing with your senses again: though the rest of your vision is perfectly fine, you doubt you'll be reading anything else until this is all over. You look back at the patient cloud, which seems to be...[[smirking?|SelenaSmirk2]]

Sigh. Unless *The Mummy* used something other than Hollywood screenwriting to trap its wayward spirit, this book is useless. Better [[return it to the shelf...|BookcaseAfterComputer]]

**Patrick, why are you so set on sending me away? Here we are, having a heart-to-heart conversation, and off you go, watching YouTube instead of paying attention! But don't worry, I've fixed that for us. No more distractions, no more boring professors discussing the *proper* way to seal me in against my will: now, the only thing you'll be able to hear is me!** **It's for the best, because [[we need to talk about something.|TGABAC]]**

Appreciate the hustle, friend, but last I checked, S wasn't between the letters A and G. [[Pick a different drawer.|Filing Cabinet]]

Your sense of humor is noted and appreciated, but unless you *want* to be possessed by a being of unknown character (which is totally valid, too), you'd better get serious. You're on a [[deadline, after all.|Filing Cabinet]]

As you slide open the S-Z drawer, you thank your lucky stars that the cabinet doesn't have a lock: despite the midnight glitch, Management has unshakable faith that the office door is sufficient security. You easily find a folder labeled *Selena,* remove the pages, and start scanning for any pertinent details. For some bizarre reason, most of the pages have been struck through with line after line of black marker! You can only make out certain uncovered words here and there, like *Selena, jade green vase, 1963,* and...a containment procedure! This should come in handy. *1. Stun the spirit by reversing her name and reciting it thrice 2. Retrieve the spirit's original vessel and throw her inside. If the original vessel is unavailable or destroyed-* ...woah. You're feeling pretty light-headed now, and the words on the page begin to blur until they're completely incomprehensible. Your eyes dart across the office, then back to the page: everything except the typed-up report still comes through without any challenges. You hear a familiar voice [[giggling inside your mind...|SelenaSmirk3]]

Shit. You kind of wanted to hear where that was goingNO. No. She's playing you like a fiddle, and it's working. You still have 25 minutes to search, and you can't let any of it go to waste. Even if your vision's gone to shit, you should still [[check the bookcase|BookcaseAfterCabinet]] or [[boot up the computer on the desk.|ComputerAfterCabinet]]

**Yo, Patrick! Remember what I was saying earlier, vis a vis the written word? That bookcase won't do you much good right now. You're better off [[looking somewhere else,|ComputerAfterCabinet]] if you're still this eager to get rid of me.**

You plop down in front of the computer, shaking the mouse to power on the screen. Thankfully, the curator doesn't keep their PC password-protected, and you soon find yourself on the desktop. That little trick Selena played back at the filing cabinet is still in full effect, but luckily for you, you're a touch typist. You open the C: drive, search for videos, and swiftly open the first .mp4 file you can find. A poe-faced man in a tweed jacket is introduced by an incomprehensible title card, so you focus on what he has to say instead. *"OK, let's assume that you've already stunned the apparition: next, you'll need to find a suitable home, or vessel, that can contain it. While they're in their stunned state, it becomes physically possible to pick the entity up and plop it into a container, but without the right preparations, it will only be trapped for approximately 24 hours. If you're only looking for a quick getaway, this should offer plenty of time, but without priming the trap through-"* The video suddenly goes quiet. You check its volume levels: everything is still set to 100%, as are the audio settings on the computer itself. You try snapping, whistling, even tapping the table, but all remains silent. Everything, that is, except for Selena's disarmingly calm voice. **Patrick, why are you so set on sending me away? Here we are, having a heart-to-heart conversation, and off you go, watching YouTube instead of paying attention! But don't worry, I've fixed that for us. No more distractions, no more boring professors discussing the *proper* way to seal me in against my will: now, the only thing you'll be able to hear is me!** **It's for the best, because [[we need to talk about something.|TGACAF]]**

Selena lets out a large sigh. **Fine, have it your way. Wait for my arrival, if you must: you and I both know that without your ability to read or hear, scouring that bookcase will be a waste of time. But I can feel your resolve wavering, your consciousness growing used to my presence. As I keep sinking into your brain, I'll twist and turn whatever I can until you can only accept the truth: this is what you need. This is what you *want.*** I guess this is it, then. She'll glide through that door in less than five minutes, and *we will finally be together-*NO, GET OUT. You remember the plan from before, grab the nearby wastebasket, *as if that could possibly keep us apart-*GRAB THE NEARBY WASTEBASKET, WALK TO THE BACK OF THE ROOM, AND WAIT. The wait only makes things worse. You're grappling with your thoughts, reminding yourself that you're only waiting to trap a nefarious spirit. You won't let her in. You won't let her in. You won't *let yourself be happy, why won't you let yourself be happy, why won't you accept us*I WON'T, I CAN'T! The panel on the lock goes out. The cloud from outside turns the handle, opens the door, floats in, arms outstretched, preparing to embrace you- [[ANELES, ANELES, ANELES!|BadEnd]] *[[let us be whole|GoodEnd]]*

Appreciate the hustle, friend, but last I checked, S wasn't between the letters A and G. [[Pick a different drawer.|CabinetAfterComputer]]

As you slide open the S-Z drawer, you thank your lucky stars that the cabinet doesn't have a lock: despite the midnight glitch, Management has unshakable faith that the office door is sufficient security. You easily find a folder labeled *Selena,* remove the pages, and start scanning for any pertinent details. For some bizarre reason, most of the pages have been struck through with line after line of black marker! You can only make out certain uncovered words here and there, like *Selena, jade green vase, 1963,* and...a containment procedure! This should come in handy. *1. Stun the spirit by reversing her name and reciting it thrice 2. Retrieve the spirit's original vessel and throw her inside. If the original vessel is unavailable or destroyed-* ...boy, this text is a lot harder to read than it was a second ago. In fact, the whole document's practically illegible now! This feels eerily similar to what happened back at the computer... God damn it. **Nah, I'm not God,** a familiar voice booms, **But for our purposes, I'm close enough. Look, I'm sorry that I keep breaking your senses, but look at things from *my* perspective! Here I am, earnestly trying to connect with you, and all you can think about is running away or stuffing me inside some wastebasket for eternity. Don't you think I deserve a little more cooperation from you? Besides, [[we need to talk about something.|TGAFAC]]**