>>5714899Nnnngh….
Okay, maybe you <span class="mu-i">didn’t</span> die, but it still hurts like <span class="mu-i">HELL!</span> Why… why did you think you could do that? Damn it…
Peeling your face off the fancy and surprisingly-sturdy floor, you take stock of your <span class="mu-s">INVENTORY</span> to make sure nothing shattered or broke in the fall. Things look surprisingly good, you’re happy to report, aside from a few smashed <span class="mu-s">TONGUE DEPRESSORS.</span> Hopefully you won’t need those later!
Rising to your feet, your teeth immediately clench as pain shoots through your left ankle–you must’ve twisted it in the fall!
>TEMPORARY DEBUFF: TWISTED ANKLE! -3 TO SPEED! YOW!No time to waste, though–hobbling towards the <span class="mu-s">DINING ROOM,</span> you’re met with a complete and utter mess to sift through: though it doesn’t look like anyone planned on eating in here tonight, the tablecloth is spattered with half-dried <span class="mu-s">BLOOD</span> and the fancy-shmancy silver cutlery is strewn all over the floor along with two chairs!
Cammy, you wager, is either losing a lot of blood or fucking <span class="mu-i">HAMMERED</span>. You hope it’s the latter!
The blood trail leads into the kitchen where the chaos you witnessed earlier through the camera feed still awaits you. Giving the <span class="mu-s">SECURITY CAMERA</span> in the corner a reassuring wave, you ignore the sink full of dirty dishes for now and follow the trail into the <span class="mu-s">PANTRY!</span>
Cammy, you mutter as you slowly push open the slatted wood door, you’re here to help…
If she’s in there, she doesn’t respond… daring to peek inside, it takes you a moment to adjust to the darkness of the pantry, but once your eyes acclimate you feel your whole body grow cold.
Propped against the remains of a collapsed shelf and a mountain of <span class="mu-s">CANNED EEL</span> lies the DisCo Guard you saw leaving the Security Room earlier–her white suit soaked in her own blood! A surprised expression sits on her motionless face even as you approach–is… is she…
No way, you mutter as panic settles in, no <span class="mu-i">fucking</span> way…
What do?
>SCREW THIS–YOU NEED TO GET HELP NOW!>TRY TO WAKE HER UP! SHE CAN’T BE… RIGHT??>YOU’VE GOT YOUR MEDKIT–START FIXING HER UP!>WRITE-IN! 