[Hunt #4] Hear that squeak? Gotta fix that squeak.
[Action 1 | 1666 Nelson St | Morning]
Day three of milk scare. Carolyn had finally convinced him that they would alternate days in drinking the milk until the Milkman got his kicks out and yesterday she had been lucky. Sure she had gotten the good bottle which had made King relieved yet jealous at the same time. Which was why he had gotten up again that morning determined he was going to do it again... while also crossing his fingers he'd have gotten something normal for once.
At first it had tasted normal. A little tinge of something that was different from the day before, but still somewhat normal.
That was until he started hearing things. He was in the middle of walking through the upstairs hall hearing the whispers of someone talking. Thinking his zombie son had left the radio on in his room he walked in and pulled the plug though the voices still kept going. Very slowly the Hunter backed out of the room with the radio in hand not entirely sure how exactly that was happening.
[Action 2 | 1666 Nelson St | Afternoon]
If someone was missing a dog it's a good idea that it's possibly not coming home now. Things had gotten worse, the voices, King swearing things were moving about in the house or doing their own things, driving him outside to look for work. What he hadn't expected was to be working in the shed when he swore a ghastly figure had started to attack him. With an axe nearby he had defended himself only to find the stricken figure was someones dog who had snuck in.
With the axe in hand he stepped out in to the sunlit day covered in head to two in blood with the wildest of eyes and set stern expression. Approach at your own risk.
[Action 3 | 1666 Nelson St | Evening]
Things had gotten worse. There was a voice in his head telling him to kill the residents of the house because they were unfit to be there. None of them deserved to live. He just had to take that axe and just... finish it. With face pale and hands shaking the man sat at the kitchen table holding a cup of cold coffee from that morning between his stained fingers. Even his right foot tapped its heel against the floor as if he were nervous about something. No one seemed to believe him about what he was hearing.
Why couldn't they just listen to him?
Raising the cup he took a drink of the cold coffee keeping his eyes locked on spot on the table in front of him. It was better than looking up and seeing the shadows for people that weren't there.
Day three of milk scare. Carolyn had finally convinced him that they would alternate days in drinking the milk until the Milkman got his kicks out and yesterday she had been lucky. Sure she had gotten the good bottle which had made King relieved yet jealous at the same time. Which was why he had gotten up again that morning determined he was going to do it again... while also crossing his fingers he'd have gotten something normal for once.
At first it had tasted normal. A little tinge of something that was different from the day before, but still somewhat normal.
That was until he started hearing things. He was in the middle of walking through the upstairs hall hearing the whispers of someone talking. Thinking his zombie son had left the radio on in his room he walked in and pulled the plug though the voices still kept going. Very slowly the Hunter backed out of the room with the radio in hand not entirely sure how exactly that was happening.
[Action 2 | 1666 Nelson St | Afternoon]
If someone was missing a dog it's a good idea that it's possibly not coming home now. Things had gotten worse, the voices, King swearing things were moving about in the house or doing their own things, driving him outside to look for work. What he hadn't expected was to be working in the shed when he swore a ghastly figure had started to attack him. With an axe nearby he had defended himself only to find the stricken figure was someones dog who had snuck in.
With the axe in hand he stepped out in to the sunlit day covered in head to two in blood with the wildest of eyes and set stern expression. Approach at your own risk.
[Action 3 | 1666 Nelson St | Evening]
Things had gotten worse. There was a voice in his head telling him to kill the residents of the house because they were unfit to be there. None of them deserved to live. He just had to take that axe and just... finish it. With face pale and hands shaking the man sat at the kitchen table holding a cup of cold coffee from that morning between his stained fingers. Even his right foot tapped its heel against the floor as if he were nervous about something. No one seemed to believe him about what he was hearing.
Why couldn't they just listen to him?
Raising the cup he took a drink of the cold coffee keeping his eyes locked on spot on the table in front of him. It was better than looking up and seeing the shadows for people that weren't there.