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>>33798170
A woman.

I wonder if this ties in with loli cannibal quest.

>>33798252
Yes, but not how you might think.

I only read some of the beginning of that, so it will probably unfurl quite differently. Don't expect any of the same characters to show up.

>>33798170
Man

>>33798299
No worries. I was curious.

>>33798170
>A woman

>>33798170
Man

>>33798170
>A man

>>33798170
>A woman

That's a tie so far; next vote for gender with the lowest roll on 3d6 gets it. First roll for each gender taken.

Rolled 2, 2, 3 = 7

>>33798738
Man

Rolled 1, 5, 1 = 7

Here we go.

>A woman

>>33798752
>>33798767
Haha

>>33798752
>>33798767
wtf

Well, in the interest of getting this trainwreck rolling, and since there's apparently an even split between both players and fate, I'm going to say woman and get writing.

>>33798814
>Not both

/tg/ is telling you to go full /d/

>>33798814
Obviously, she must be a reverse trap.

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>>33798814
Why not both?

>>33798844
If We are not male I wholeheartedly support this

>>33798828
If you want to imagine it that way, I won't stop you.

>>33798844
>>33798890

You've been called in to Vanity City to take part in a special task force that's investigating the recent killings. A serial killer on the loose in a major metropolitan area is never a good thing, and you have a good track record with the FBI-no major busts, but a hell of a lot of assists. Keep it up, and in a few years, you'll probably be the commander of your own team...

The drive into Vanity is...troubling. The roads seem to have been designed specifically to confuse and distract your GPS system, with constantly changing names, bizarre triangle intersections, and more dead-end streets than you can shake a stick at. It takes you almost an hour to right your way, and navigate through the claustrophobic roads of Vanity to the police station.

The local officers give you hard looks as you walk in; here you are, the woman from the government, to clean up the shit they can't handle. It does not help that, on first glance, your gender is indeterminate; short hair, a slender frame, and a smaller-than normal set of breasts combine to make you look strange and...alien. The few seconds of unnerving it gives people does not help when they are already predisposed to hate you, like these men.

There is one last hurdle before you're officially on the case, a rather unusual one as well-two of the investigators on the team will be interveiwing you. You sit down in a free interrogation room, across the table from the two men. One is an older white man, with a salt-and-pepper beard and a cigarette in his mouth-he seems to be in his 40s or 50s. The other is a black guy, not much older than you, built like a twig. The older one puts out his cigarette in an ashtray, and leans forward across the table, folding his hands in front of his face. "Agent Summers," he says, "Do you believe in the supernatural?"

>No, of course not.
>Well, we've all got our superstitions...
>...what?
>write in

>>33798995
>Well, we've all got our superstitions...

>>33798995
>Well, we've all got our superstitions...

>>33798995
>No, of course not.

>>33798170
>>A man

>>33798995
>Well, we've all got our superstitions...

A pinch of salt over the shoulder...

>Well, we've all got our superstitions...

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>>33799584
>>33799323
>>33799135
>>33799042

"Well, we've all got our own superstitions. A pinch of salt over the shoulder, that sort of thing...Uh, what does this have to do with the case?"

The older man seems pleased, while the younger one makes a 'tch' noise and has a look of slight frustration. "Damnit, I had a twenty riding on you saying 'what'...." "Xavier, be quiet. This is no time for jokes." "...Yes, sir."

The older man adresses you again. "It is good that you have that veiwpoint. An open mind will aid you in this transition...The simple truth, Ms. Summers, is that there are dark things in this world, things more ancient and evil than simple serial killers....Monsters, demons, Fairies, the like. This unit is part of a larger effort to find, deal with, and conceal the existence of such threats. We believe that the Vanity City Cannibal is one such threat, and would like your help in...dealing, with it."

>...What?
>What makes you think it's the work of...something like that?
>Like, demons? Are you serious?
>Well I've never caught a demon before, so sure, let's do this thing.
>Why me?
>[Write-in]

>>33799647
>Why me?
The most important question.

>>33799647
>Why me?
>[Write-in]
"Just because I have an open mind doesn't mean I'm gullible. I have to keep an open mind to do my job well."

Why me?
+
What makes you think it's the work of...something like that?

>Why me?

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>>33800110
>>33799803
>>33799743
>>33799690

"Uh...What makes you think it'd be...some kind of monster, like that? And if it was, why would you want me? Wouldn't you be better off with, like, a priest?"

Xavier speaks up first. "Ah, the church and us, we've had our-" a glance from his companion shuts him up. "Well...Um, the simple reason is because you're qualified. See, we monitor all the federal agents for the spark-the potential to learn magic-and you're one of the positives."

The old man continues. "One of three positives with your particular skillset, no less. Now, it is possible-quite likely, in fact-that you will never learn the art of magic, like Xavier here. Even so, you'll be able to sense and see things that other people cannot-things that will tip you off to when supernatural evil is at play."

He leans back in his chair. "As for why we think there was a supernatural being involved..." he takes out a folder and slides it across the table towards you. It's stamped CLASSIFIED, and inside is the initial blood-spatter analysis reports from the Mitch Sawyer killing-or part of it, at least. From the shell casings and the DNA samples taken, there were two people in the room-the victim and the assailant. And Mitch, using the gun registered to him, shot the attacker three times in the chest with .45 ACP cartridges. Despite that, they killed Mitch, and left the hotel room where this all happened under their own power.

"There's more." Xavier says, sitting up straight in his chair for the first time. "We haven't found a murder weapon yet, but there's signs of immense forces being applied-the kid had his hands shattered and his arms broken before whatever killed him did its job. Either someone has a very weird lever system, or he went up against something stronger than any human being."

>...This is a little more serious than murderers...
>Demon, fairy, whatever, I'm in. If they're a murderer, it's my job to help find them.
>[Write-in]

>>33800492
>Demon, fairy, whatever, I'm in. If they're a murderer, it's my job to help find them.
>[Write-in]
Why didn't the others make the cut?

>>33800492
>Demon, fairy, whatever, I'm in. If they're a murderer, it's my job to help find them.

>>33800492
>...This is a little more serious than murderers...

>>33800492
>[Write-in]
"What did the DNA tests show on the unsub?"

>>33800806
>>33800798

You sit there silently for a bit, thinking. Something...supernatural? This is all pretty weird. People like Jeffery Dahmer got up to levels of evil that boggle the mind, but for there to actually be something else out there, hunting mankind...

...but you're a police officer. So you take a deep breath, steel yourself, and look the older man straight in the eye. "I'm in. If there's something murdering people out there, it's my duty to find and stop them. Doesn't matter if it's a person or...something else."

The older man nods, and reaches across the table to give you a firm handshake. It's hard and tight, and his hands feel more like a giant warm rock enveloping yours than anything else. Your MANLY GAZE falters as he lets go, and you find yourself rubbing your hand slightly from his grip.

"Name's John O'Connor. The goofball over there is Xavier Freeman." He gestures towards his partner, and Xavier gives you a slight wave. "Glad to have you on the team," he says, "Uh...Oh, don't let Aina and Kazuki get to you. They can be...pretty weird."

You nod slightly, as they all stand up to leave. John outlines the situation. "Xavier can give you directions to our office, where you'll meet everyone. I've got to get some final arrangements for your living space in the city set up...Oh, and you're not to tell anyone outside our unit of the contents of that report. Any questions?"

"Yeah, what's the DNA results show on the unsub?"
Xavier responds as you're all walking out into the main police station. Standing up, you can see now that he's a bit taller than you. "Ah, well, they haven't finished running all the tests-just found the body this morning, of course. All we got so far is that there were two different people in the room-they're having some difficulty with the unsub's sample, unsurprisingly...We can stop by the crime scene later today, they're not gonna clean it up until tomorrow."

>Cont.; put pre-office questions here

>>33801372
What jurisdiction does this team fall under? FBI or local?

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>>33801442
As Xavier gives you directions to the office, you ask him what jurisdiction, exactly, this whole unit falls under. He scratches the back of his neck, avoids meeting your gaze, and is generally quite evasive; but some STEELY GAZING at him gets him to finally give it up and spill the beans.

Effectively, the unit is a portion of the FBI, though it's wrapped up in secrecy and operates under a different command structure. Secrecy is a large part of your operations, as well; the office is located in a mundane building, and is disguised as an insurance company.

After another painful chunk of time navigating the labryinthine streets of Vanity City, you manage to make it to said office; Dayson Insurance Solutions, the office door reads. It's on the first floor of the building, though according to Xavier there's some secret basement areas you guys have access to as well.

The office is a wide, open room, with tables and chairs set out every here and there to create a single shared office for all the lower-ranking employees. Off to the side, there are various private offices for higher-ups; one stands out from the rest, its door decorated with every hazard sign you can imagine, some posters in japanese, and a small artistic eye. Compared to that. The rest of the offices have doors without any decoration.

There is one person in the office currently, a girl typing away at a computer. She doesn't look up as you enter.

>Investigate: Strange Door
>Hi, I'm new here...
>Hey, aren't you a bit young to work here?
>Hey, what's your name? I'm Alex summers.
>search for secret basement areas
>[Write-in]

>Investigate: Strange Door
>[Write-in]
"You should probably tell me now if this room is as dangerous as it says it is."

>>33801847
>Hey, what's your name? I'm Alex summers.

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And one of your two posters has to go to bed. I'll be sorry to see this one go - it had potential.

>>33801847
>Hey, what's your name? I'm Alex summers.

>Investigate: Strange Door

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>>33802154
No worries. I'll try to keep stuff neat.

>>33801975
>>33802174


"Hey, what's your name? I'm-"
"Alex Summers."
You just sort of stand there as the girl finishes your sentence for you.
"Um, I'm the new person, so-"
"Age 27. Single. Has been engaged once...unsuccessfully. Favorite bands are-"
"Okay, can you stop that already? I just wanted to know your name, not how badly you've been creeping on me."

She's quiet for a bit, then looks up at you for the first time. "Eva Barton. Um...Sorry." She looks to the floor of to the side. "I...Um...force of habit..."
"Oh," you begin, "That's-"
"the doctors say I have a hard time coming to trust people because of stuff but it's really not that hard as long as you can spend some time beforehand to get to know everything about how a person thinks or feels or operates and what their secrets are because then you..."

Something tells you this might take a while. While she keeps going, you inch off towards the spooky door. "Hey, Eva, is this door as dangerous as it seems?"

She doesn't seem to notice you, and is still going through her long apology.

>Open door
>Try to get Eva to calm down, then open door
>Just try to get Eva to calm down

>>33802495
>Just try to get Eva to calm down

>>33802495
>Just try to get Eva to calm down
"Relax Agent Barton. This isn't a test."

>Now I really am going to bed.

>Just try to get Eva to calm down
Rule one do not open strange doors in occult groups

>>33802640
>>33802638
>>33802565

Deciding that any door with a "Danger: Strange Matter Hazard" sign is not a door you want to open unless you're damn sure it's safe, you leave the door behind and go over to Eva.

"...so I get frustrated and scared and then I just think that it'd be easier if I went through everyone's stuff and I promise I won't tell Aina or Kazuki about your underwear color."

"Um...Yeah. Sure, that's a good start. Look, Agent Barton, this isn't a test or anything, just...relax. Also, if you could just...not go through my personal information, in the future..."

"Oh...sorry..." she looks a little bit sad, but otherwise fine.

"Yeah, just...don't do it again. Uh, so what's with that door with all the signs?"

"It's Kazuki's room. He's...weird..."

>Weird how?
>Open door
>Write in
>ask about basement access

>>33802909
>Weird how?

>>33802909
>Weird how?
From a scale of one to it's surprising he's not considered a supernatural entity.

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>>33803015
>>33802965

"Weird....How?" you ask. "Like, on a scale from an absent minded professor, to Nikola Tesla, to a supernatural creature, how weird are we talking here?"

Eva avoids meeting your gaze. "Um...he's not good at talking to people, like me...but he's also a pervert, and he hates outside...he's really paranoid, I haven't been able to break into his bedroom yet, and I've tried over a dozen times..."

>Ignore Eva's weirdness and try tackling Kazuki's weirdness instead
>Ask about basement access
>Is everyone around this place that weird?
>quietly despair over your life choices and wait for normal people to arrive
>write-in

>>33803287
>Do you mind if I ask you what you do around here?
She seems to be our intel gatherer if her prying is anything to consider.

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>>33803349

"I see...Uh, do you mind if I ask what you do around here?"

"Oh...I do information gathering, and wetwork when we need it...I'm one of the MKUltra II kids, so...it's dangerous, fighting the creatures out there, but I can do it."

Before you can ask her any further questions, John comes in through the front door. "Summers, we've got work to do. I've got some leads to check out-We need to check out the crime scene before it's cleaned, and talk to the local vampire head honcho."

Eva tilts her head slightly as he comes in. "You left off the werewolves. They kill people the same way..." John makes something of a grimace. "Yeah, well, I'd rather not have the new girl deal with that just yet."

>Let's go check out the crime scene
>Check out vampires
>ask for more info on werewolf situation
>write in

Additionally, you get a choice of party members:

>Take John as your partner
>take Eva as your partner

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>>33803940
>Let's go check out the crime scene
>Take John as your partner

And everyone else is gone.

>>33803940
>Let's go check out the crime scene
and
>Take John as your partner

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>>33804024
>>33804255

The crime scene is a hotel room, where the victim-Mitch Sawyer, ace football star-was staying on a breif visit to the town. Yellow caution tape bars the way to the room, and you and John step over it and into a scene straight from a slaughterhouse.

Blood coats the room, and the smell is almost overpowering. There's a few small splatters on the wall and floor opposite the bed, but most of the blood is located around the bed-which has gone a darker shade of brown from its original color, soaked as throughly as it is. This isn't the sort of splatter that you get with a knife-fight, or a gun duel, or even a bludgeoning to death-it's a far more brutal and ancient way of killing than that.

Mitch's body lies on the bed. His chest has been torn open, his viscera spread about the bed on which he died. His hands are a crushed mass of flesh and chips of bone, and his left leg is bent at an impossible angle with a white sliver of bone jutting out through the skin. His head is smashed against the headboard, hard enough its back has squashed like a grape and splintered the bed it hit.

A cameraman from the Vanity City PD is there, taking pictures of the whole ensemble.

>Lose your lunch
>don't lose your lunch

And
>Examine area
>talk to local officers at scene
>Write-in

>>33804448
>Discuss what you'll be getting for lunch

>Examine area

>>33804448
>don't lose your lunch
>Examine area
Gotta keep the scene clean, you see.

>>33804540
Excuse my idiocy, clean relatively speaking.

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>>33804519
>>33804540

>Don't lose your lunch/discuss lunch plans
>examine crime scene more throughly

The smell's real rough, but you manage to avoid retching. It's worse than any other crime scene you've been to so far, but hey, not throwing up on evidence is also part of your job.

"So....What do you want to get for lunch?" you ask as you pick around the crime scene. John just says "If you say sasauge, I'm going to burn your flesh off."

The local police have already done a pretty through job on marking down all the evidence. Soon they'll be through with bags to take it all away, but for now it's still being catalogued.

There's a purse, and a you slip on some gloves to flip through it. A coin purse, a bus ticket...but that's it. It's empty of most of the usual detritus of life.

There's a torn up condom wrapper in the trash, along with its (used, ick) contents. Not really surprising there...A pearl necklace is also on the floor near the bed.

The fire escape window stands wide open, a slight draft coming in.

>Ruminate on methodology and mind of killer [Roll 3d6, lower is better, best roll is taken]
>Ask John about the station on the bus ticket
>See if you can get any security footage from the room
>write in

>>33804997
>Ask John about the station on the bus ticket
I don't feel lucky with the dice right now.

Rolled 6, 4, 2 = 12

>>33804997
>Ruminate on methodology and mind of killer [Roll 3d6, lower is better, best roll is taken]

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>>33805208
>>33805185

You hand John the bus ticket, and ask about the station.

"Oh hm. They're stamped with where they're bought...he looks over it a bit. "Worth Street station...that's out off on the edge of town, by the woods..." he makes a grimace, and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Damnit, guys..." noticing you watching him, he stops doing it. "I'll explain later. What's your thoughts on the killer?"

"Oh, that." You look over the room once again. "...It's odd. They're probably female, and a lust-based killer-someone who kills for the rush, or sexual satisfaction, not any sort of ideology. But, this level of violence is extremely rare with female killers..."

"So it's probably a woman...I'll tell Kazuki, that'll get him some help with his research."

>Go outside to talk with John more about ticket
>Look into security camera footage
>write in

>>33805546
>Look into security camera footage

>>33805546
>Look into security camera footage

>>33805591
>>33805988
"Hey, what's the situation with the security footage?" you ask the VCPD officer on hand while John steps out to deal with a phone call. "There's cameras in the lobby..." He takes a picture of the trash's contents. "If you want to look through 14+ hours of security footage to try to find this guy and whoever he came in with, be my guest."

"Right..."
John comes back soon afterwards, and taps you on the shoulder to follow him outside. In the hallway, he starts talking, though he keeps his voice low so the guy inside won't hear him.

"That was Kazuki...He found a lead for you to look into. Someone with a similar method to our killer here. She's locked up at the old insane asylum..." he lights a cigarette and takes a drag. "...We keep a lot of the more...troublesome things, in that building. Be careful, if you're gonna go there...

>Talk about ticket information
>Get ready to go to the insane asylum
>Check out vampires
>write in

>>33806291
>Get ready to go to the insane asylum

Time to meet our Hannibal?

>>33806291
>Get ready to go to the insane asylum

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>>33806510
>prepare to head towards insane asylum

John gives you some directions and a briefing, and soon you're off.

The Edward Carter Memorial Psychiatric Hospital is the largest and oldest psychiatric institution in the whole state of California. It's famous in your profession, though not for anything good.

Founded in 1921 to deal with a rash of problems in the rapidly expanding Vanity City, the Carter Lunatic Asylum has never had a shortage of patients. While the other lunatic asylums in america were done in by the slow and steady march of deinstitutionalization, the Carter Asylum stood strong. In the 40's it changed its name, in memory of its late founding director, who tore his eyeballs out and leaped to his death from a 50 foot tower.

It's had a nasty history of patient abuse and neglect, but every director who's had such problems come to light under their term soon took their own life. Suicide is common among staff there. The pay is great, but fresh new psych grads are advised to avoid it and the beautiful California surroundings by their peers.

Even if you don't believe in magic, it's not hard to feel that there's something...evil, there.

You hear it's been doing better in recent years; the current director has shaped things up, renovated the grounds, and has survived in his position for 15 years-putting him in the top ten longest-lived directors.

It's a bright day outside, and the grounds are well-kept. But still, as you come out, you feel a...weight, on your heart.

>cont.
>also, how much longer do people want me to keep going? I'm approaching a good stopping point soon.

>>33807027
I'll be awake for a few more hours, OP. If you feel tired, and/or if you feel the quality of your posts will drop, than stop when you feel like it.

>>33807027
I'm at work so I'm a little sporadic with responces so do what you feel works best for you.

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>>33807136
>>33807333
Noted. onwards, then, to one of the weirder characters I have planned.

You ask at the desk for the patient in question-Anabelle Kaufmann. The clerk's eyes open in shock as you mention her name, and he has to call his superior to make sure this is, in fact, legit.

Soon he's leading you down the immaculate hallways of the institution towards her cell. The feeling in your chest gets heavier as you head deeper into the institution. Soon there's a security checkpoint, where they confiscate almost everything you're carrying-your belt gets some stern looks, but the guard lets you through after you give him a face that says "really."

This area is worse. That feeling in your chest increases to a sharp pain, that pulses with your heartbeat. Here the comforting decor of the exterior wards is gone, replaced with heavy security doors, small windows, white padded rooms...

The orderly leads you to a hallway that has no doors on the side, just one at the very end; there are two heavy metal security gates in the ceiling, that can drop down and close if something goes wrong. As you walk forward, the gates drop down and close behind you, their heavy metal bars sealing you off from the exit. Finally, you reach the door at the end of the hallway, and you gesture to the orderly; he pushes a button, the door opens, and soon you are face to face with the girl herself.

>cont.

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>>33807542
The first thing that strikes you about Anabelle is how young she is; John mentioned in the breifing that her killings occured in 1939, but the girl in front of you doesn't look more than 13 or so years old. She is thin, too-her skin is stretched tight over her bones, like the victim of a famine. She sits, kneeling, in a straight jacket; it is further anchored to the walls of the room with numerous leather straps, and the whole room is full of nothing but that good ol' white fluffy padding.

As you come in and sit on the floor in front of them, she stirs; she sniffs the air slightly, and speaks.

"Aah...you're a new one. Not one of the hospital's pawns..." she sniffs the air again. "A woman, though you hide it. My, how the world has changed...well, Miss Police Officer, how may I be of service."

>You've followed these cannibal killings, right? What's your thoughts on them?
>How are you...still so young?
>What did you do to get put under this level of security?
>Write-in

>>33807568
>You've followed these cannibal killings, right? What's your thoughts on them?
>What did you do to get put under this level of security?

>>33807622
I'll second this.

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>>33807622
>>33807749

"What did you do to get put under this much security? And...what do you think of these cannibal murders?"

Anabelle smiles and stops stretching to sniff the air, relaxing as much as the restraints will allow her.
"It's been quite a few things, I'm afraid." She sighs.
"Incidents over the years...violent outbursts, fights with other inmates in this madhouse. My...nature, makes it difficult to get along with others. This, though...they gave me a dog a while ago. Said it was for therapy purposes. And, well...You wouldn't know what it's like. The unending, all-consuming hunger...and nothing will sate it, but the flesh of something you love."

She is quiet for a bit.

"...He was a good dog, Rex. He gave me a moment's relief...and for that, I am thankful." She sits up straight again.

"They took away my newspapers, after that...but, I have heard of some cannibal murders." She smiles. "Has it occurred to you that, perhaps, the killer was hungry?"

>What...happened, to you?
>How are you still so...young?
>Why would they want to eat people, though?
>write-in

>>33808187
>What...happened, to you?

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>>33808366


>What...happened, to you?

The girl smiles, and laughs a little bit. "Ah, that...Well, first, I'm older than I look. it was back in the great depression...My father had the bright idea of moving us off our farm and up into the mountains, and trying to live off the land...To his credit, it worked, until winter rolled in.

Food started to run scarce, there was a snowstorm, we're all trapped without anything to eat...You know how it goes. He left to search for supplies, never returned...and I started to hear whispers, sweet temptations from my personal little demon."

"One day, I gave in...so I took dad's straight razor, and I killed my mother and my sister and my brother, and I ate their remains and I lived."

"But god doesn't really like that sort of thing, you know? So, I as time passed, I got hungry again. But when I went back to society, I found that all food tasted like ash...the only thing that would make me fill full, for even a bit, is the flesh of something alive. Something I've loved, specifically. A cute boy I take a shine to, a girl I become friends with, a dog...it doesn't matter. If I love it, I want to eat it, to rend the sweet flesh from its bones, then crack them open and suck the marrow out..." she starts drooling slightly, catches herself, and goes back to her story.

"...When the police arrested me, that's when I found the other part. I'm strong now, and tough as nails, and I don't think god's going to let me die for a long time to come. So here I remain."

She leans forward as much as the restraints will allow, staring you in the eye.
"You know...you smell good."

>Ah, thanks...
>...So this person's hungry. Why would they be going after the victims so brutally?
>Surely you can offer more insight than 'they're hungry'.
>Write-in

>>33808986
>So, is that code for 'we're friends' now?
>Surely you can offer more insight than 'they're hungry'.

>>33809154
Gonna give this one a bump and another ten minutes or so before I write the next reply.

>>33809154
This.

>>33809154
>>33809664

"So...does that mean we're friends now?"

Anabelle leans back, smiling. "Ah, something like that. I'd say we're more...acquaintances, right now. But I think I could get to like you very much."

"Well, then..." you lean back, putting a hand to your chin. "Surely you can offer your new acquaintance better insight on this whole affair than 'they're hungry'."

She laughs. It's a dry, rasping laugh, and entirely too unnerving. That pain in your chest from the...evil, of this place, it twinges again as she does so. When she stops laughing and looks towards you again, there is an evil glint in her eye.
"Ah...hahaha...Oh, I can. In fact, I'll probably find the killer before you do. But I want something in exchange...freedoms. Rights, privileges that have been taken away from me. I want to go outside again, to run and jump and climb mountains, to hear music, to read the papers again...And I want food. Live food."

>...I don't see that happening.
>I'll, uh...see what I can do. Friend.
>What makes you so sure you can do this?
>write in

>>33809993
>What makes you so sure you can do this?
I do not enjoy the prospect of paying a favor potentially in morsels of myself.

>>33809993
"I suppose that animals store had a few too many kittens."

>>33809993
>>What makes you so sure you can do this?

>>33810243
>>33810647
>>33810740


"And what, exactly" you ask, "Makes you so sure you can do this?"

Annabelle laughs that horrid laugh again, like some kind of dying horse. "Ahaha...You're funny, you know that? Look...You're human. Slightly off of normal, no doubt with your own traumas-I do wonder why you dress so much like a man-but you're human, and you've spent all your life thinking human thoughts, and you're only just now getting into the mind of the beast that's on the loose."

"I have spent the past 80 years as a predator, a hunter. I have searched for others, I have researched them, I have broken bread with them. And, well...you don't get a sheep to hunt a fox."

She sits back.
"If you'll want anything else from me, get them to move me to my old room. Being chained up is just SUCH a drag. Oh, and I'll need the...oh, what's the word...Autopsy! I'll need the autopsy papers."

>I'll...try to work something out. What do you like to...eat?
>I can handle it on my own, thanks.
>write in

>>33810876
>>I'll...try to work something out. What do you like to...eat?

>>33810876
>I'll...try to work something out.
Why the would I want to ask redundant questions?

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>>33810958
>>33810908

"I'll...try to figure something out. With the room, and the food."
"Of course. Livestock isn't as good as human flesh, but it's still better than nothing. Come back anytime!" She smiles as you turn and leave, quickly walking on out of there.

Outside, dark clouds have rolled in, and it's started to rain in a heavy downpour. The pressure on your heart barely lightens as you race out to your car, only going away once you've driven for a solid few miles away from the insane asylum. You're soaked through and through, the rain making your normally hidden femininity apparent.

There are leads, now, and Anabelle will probably be a useful resource in the future. There's still more work to follow up on, though...and Annabelle inspires less than zero trust, currently.

You shiver a bit along the drive, either from the rain or from the craziness of this all...eh, it's probably just the rain. I mean, all you did so far today was find out magic is real, talk to a cannibal, and see a man with his organs torn out of his chest.

Who'd be scared by that?

****
The fox seeks the rabbit.
The hound seeks the fox.
The game has begun.

>I'mma end here for the night
>Will probably run again on sunday or monday.

>>33811339
Thank you for running. Until then.