>>5500812 >>5501421Fuck it. If life isn't going to throw you a bone then you're just going to have to break your own way in. The chance to actually rest for a moment is too tempting. With a grunt you lift up your golf club again and start busting out enough of the window next to the front door to get in. Your right shoulder in particular hurts as you do so, so you put the club underneath your left instead. This time you're a bit faster and more impatient, but fortunately it works out all the same. With a final sweep around the window frame's edge, you step inside.
The crunch of shoes on broken glass sounds out as you enter. You take a hesitant look around the room before you flick on your flashlight, but you're honestly not too worried- the neighborhood has seemed deserted, so at this point you'd welcome anyone thinking you're a home intruder as a pleasant surprise, given that you don't get shot immediately.
Your light reveals a living room in front of you and a kitchen to your right. There's also a stairwell leading upstairs to your right, awkwardly between the two of them. You take a peek into the kitchen, and see that it's adjacent to a dining room, pantry, and what looks like a garage. You ignore it and head down the hallway connected to the living room, on its right. After poking open the first door, you find what you were looking for - a bathroom. Thank fuck.
The ray of your flashlight lights up the mirror as you examine yourself. You look at lot worse than before. Your hair is in complete disarray, and now not only stained with dirt, but what you assume is your own blood. The smear of blood on your face from the bloody nose has now become two smears, and you can still a couple drops roll down your face as you stare. That's just annoying though - what's concerning are the smears of blood you can see on your shirt, all concentrated around several tears near the shoulder.
After a short pause to figure out if you have time, you take off your shirt so you can get a better look. As you do so you shiver slightly- it's way too cold for August. Turning back to the mirror, you crane over your neck and try to get a good look at yourself. You're not pleased with what you find. Three large scratches on your shoulder, still bleeding, and two shallower scratches on your back, also bleeding just a bit. You should deal with that. Now.
You grab the first-aid kit from your backpack, place it in the bathtub just to be doubly-sure that Madness and Folly won't go off exploring, and then quickly treat yourself. There's not much water left in the sink, but fortunately together with what's trapped in the bathtub faucet it's enough to wet the bathroom's hand towel with to clean your wounds. It hurts rubbing against them, but at least it gets most of the dry blood off. After that you apply your disinfectant spray, gritting your teeth slightly due to the burn of whatever's in it. Alcohol or some other disinfectant maybe. You're not sure.