Welcome to Hemlock Falls

[Atrus]

The first room to Rourke's right is an enormous, L-shaped kitchen. Once clearly the pride of the resident Cook, now it was equally dusty and rusty, and, even with just the spot illumination of Rourke's flashlight, the big fire and oven showed evident signs that they needed cleaning. A knife on the big working table seems at odds with the rest, though. It looks sharp. And it gleams under the light.

The second room, which occupies the space left by the kitchen on that side of the house, and is connected to it by a serving hatch, sports a simple and long table with equally simple chairs all around it. It was most likely the table used by the staff for their meals and small manual labour.

 

[Molly Dufrene]

"I don't, umm, well..." Molly isn't really sure what to do right now. Sarah claims to be seeing something, the room is noticeably chilly, which means it's probably haunted, not even counting the weird song that had been sung until just now, and she was totally ready to start shooting fire all over the place, except that wasn't at all helpful now. So she freezes and just stumbles through words like an idiot, at least in her mind.

 

[The Dullahan]

Rourke cleared both rooms and then paused and went back to the bigger kitchen, the glint of the light on the knife catching his eye. He walked over to the knife and picked it up, testing how sharp it was against the table. If it was as sharp as it looked, Rourke would take it with him as he went back into the hallway and tried the closed door on the left to see if it was locked.

 

[Atrus]

The knife practically gleamed, like it had just been forged and sharpened.

The door on the left was warped with age and humidity, and it took a little nudging to pry it open. The effort didn't seem worth the result though, as the room was empty except for a small round table and an overturned chair.

As he went back out into the corridor, a thought came to the front of Rourke's mind, sharp as the knife in his hand: Denzel would pay for having the audacity to touch his daughter. Such things did not go unpunished.

 

[Marcos Medeiros]

Marcos, too, is at a loss for words when he turns from the door handle after trying it a good five more times to find Sarah circling around... something. Something that he couldn't see, and that Molly apparently couldn't see, either.

"We're okay. A little freaked out, but okay," Marcos tells Craft. He doesn't dare say 'for now.' He also doesn't answer Sarah's question; telling her that she's losing her mind would be no better than starting the ghost talk, and he probably won't make it out of the house alive if he started joking around. Instead, he starts pressing on the walls, searching for any sort of secret latch (or, failing that, a weak spot). There's always a secret latch somewhere... right?

"Oookay. We need to find a way out of here," he says. "Give me a hand."

 

[Atrus]

"Mad?" The ghost whispers in Sarah's ear, without moving her lips. "Is that what you claim? Insanity made you do it?"
The apparition jumps from her current position to right in front of Sarah, her face a ghastly mask of despair, eyes black and sunken deep in her sockets. "Maybe I should make you feel what real madness is, dear sister? The furious howling pain you made me feel when papa killed my love? When he locked me in the attic, to be forgotten? Is this what you want me to do?"

There do not seem to be secret latches, but one section of the floor seems that could be persuaded to split under a few well-placed blows.
Failing that, there's always the windows. They're boarded, but that shouldn't be too much trouble for a Bee.

Rourke, in the room below, would hear a few distant voices and the sound of a doorknob being rattled. Was that Denzel, trying to meet with his daughter again?

 

[Craft]

Craft takes a deep breath as Marcos says that the three of them in the room are 'Okay'. He couldn't fault them for the freaked out part. Taking a moment to order his thoughts he takes a moment to examine the door and door frame. How sturdy could a door in a long abandoned mansion be?

Grumbling, he resigns himself to waiting. He hates waiting.

"...Alright. I'll be out here in case something else happens." Craft responds to Marcos. He recalls his assertion that the house isn't haunted and groans. "You just had to prove me wrong, didn't you?"

 

[The Dullahan]

Rourke stilled when he felt that thought push its way into his mind.

What the fuck?

His hand tightened on the knife as he looked around, something wasn't right. He felt it in the way that thought twisted his gut.

But he still didn't put the knife down as he headed into the hallway. He'd cleared this floor and headed up the stairs, flashlight out to illuminate his path.

Then paused as he heard those distant whispers. Who the fuck was that? It had to be that bastard Denzel.

Hold up, Sam. Who the fuck was Denzel? And he didn't have a daughter.

Rourke heard the door rattle and immediately turned the light towards the sound, trying to see if there was really anyone there. He took a small breath, a calming one. They weren't going to find out what was going on unless they started taking some risks.

"Hey!" Rourke called out against the door above his head, "Who's up there?"

 

[Atrus]

((To clarify: the rattle that Rourke is hearing is Craft and Marcos trying to open the door right above his head!))

 

[The Dullahan]

((Thanks for the clarification! Fixed, i think!))

 

[Sarah Whittaker]

Sarah proves Marcos wrong. She doesn't panic.

Panic is one of the valid responses in a fight/flight/freeze situation; but it's not the choice that Sarah's hindbrain makes. Instead of flight or freeze, it decides to attempt "fight".
However, it has a problem. There's nothing physical to fight.

Let's break this down to microseconds.

First, the adrenaline rush. The hindbrain is triggered to 'fight/flight/freeze'. It selects fight; the entity appears to already know she is present, and there appears to be nowhere to flee to.
Blood is withdrawn from the digestive system, and moved to the muscles, the heart, the lungs. Other systems which are not urgent, such as liver and kidneys, are also deprived of blood. The skin flushes slightly, especially over heavily muscled areas.
The fists clench, the knees flex, the muscles ready themselves for action.
The absence of blood in the digestive system is registered as a sick feeling in the stomach.

The hindbrain seeks the target and attempts to formulate a basic strategy. The target is unknown, unfamiliar. Information is required. Also, cognition.
The hindbrain pushes the information it currently has to the forebrain.
It also triggers a request for sensation.

Pupils widen. Nostrils flare. Vestigal muscles attempt to move the ears. Vestigal systems attempt to obtain tastes in the air. Tiny muscles in the skin lift tiny hairs, for them to sense even minor movements of the air. It feels like goose-bumps. It is.
The sensory systems process the results of this attempt at input, and provide an executive summary to the forebrain.

The forebrain suffers cognitive dissonance.
Cognitive dissonance is usually fun. It's a major aspect of some forms of humour: for instance, putting inappropriate adjectives with certain nouns. A cool Templar. An honest Illuminati. An ethical Phoenician. A Venice agent who isn't a bureaucrat.
But cognitive dissonance can also be horror. Hitchcock made simple and common animals into terrible monsters. Stephen King and Sam Reid make their livings exploiting cognitive dissonance.

It's one thing to experience cognitive horror in the safety of a fictional environment. It's another thing entirely when you're the subject.

Sarah's forebrain freezes up.

Blood withdraws from the skin. Breathing becomes rapid and shallow. Body freezes, no longer moving. The poor girl is now going into shock.
Her forebrain tosses the cards into the centre of the table, surrendering for this hand.

Fortunately, her hindbrain and her body still have cards to play - they're just not playing them quite yet.

 

[Atrus]

As if reacting to Sarah's shock, the ghost seems to freeze. All signs of anger fade from its face, and it just hovers in front of her for a few seconds. And then...

Then it's back to facing the windows, at the other end of the room. Once again she's singing Old Virginny, and everyone can hear it.

 

[Craft]

The faint sound of singing causes Craft to pause, as he leans up against the door and listens.

"The hell..." he mutters, as he can't quite make out the words being sung. "...Are you guys having a sing-a-long in there?" Craft questions loudly to make sure he's heard through the door as he runs his hands along the doorframe, looking for anyway to get in the room with Marcos, Molly and Sarah.

 

[Marcos Medeiros]

"Not exactly," Marcos grits out in response to Craft. They have to get out of here. The windows are looking like a better and better option by the second. He rushes over to one of them, grips the boards firmly, and tries to yank it off. He doesn't bother holding back. Adrenaline, he'd say later... if these windows don't end up being haunted, too.

The singing starts again. And Marcos isn't about to wait around and find out if it's just the beginning of a time loop. He glances over his shoulder at Sarah. She isn't looking to good. He makes a mental note to leave as big a tip as possible at the end of their tour. Maybe it'll cover some of the therapy she'll need after all of this.

"Oi," he says to Molly. He totally hasn't forgotten her name, in all of this stress. "Make sure that she doesn't fall and hit her head. Please." He nods to Sarah.

 

[Molly Dufrene]

(( Sorry about falling behind a bit on posting. ))

"She's having an acute stress reaction." Molly was snapped out of her mental freeze up by Marcos. He was trying to find a way out it looked like.

"Sarah, I need you to focus on my voice over everything else." Molly steps in front of Sarah's field of vision so she can't ignore her as easily.

 

[Sarah Whittaker]

Sarah's eyes track towards the windows (as the ghost moves).

When Molly steps into her field of vision, Sarah's eyes turn to her. She stares, for long enough to be uncanny, but then finally blinks.

Her forebrain latches onto Molly's voice. Yes. This is real. The other thing? That couldn't have happened. Not really. Molly's real.

The hindbrain recognises Molly as not-danger. Noradrenaline (norepinephrine) is released, and slowly her body calms.

The forebrain still isn't willing to take charge, but if Molly leads, it might follow.....

 

[Craft]

Craft frowns at the still barred door. He tests how sturdily it's held by shoulder-checking it a couple of times. He had other options but he didn't exactly want to go bursting through, sword in hand, but he had to do something. Turning, he looks down the hallway for something that might be useful in battering through the door.

"Guys..." He raises his voice to be heard, "I'm going to find a way to get through the door."

 

[The Dullahan]

Rourke couldn't hear anything now that he was at the top of the stairs but he definitely heard something before. He took off his hiking backpack quickly, and exchanged the knife for his handgun. He slung his backpack back onto his shoulder and took a deep breath. This wasn't Iraq. This wasn't Afghanistan. This was a quiet sleepy town in the middle of fucking nowhere. He took one more breath and he should of known that in the secret world, sleepy towns did not matter. He saw plenty of them in the Middle East. Saw how they all went to shit. Everything was fair game. Rourke held the gun out in front of him with the flashlight underneath, and moved to check the door that would lead to the first floor. It was clear by the way he held himself that he had training. He had been able to try to appear nonchalant before, like an average joe, but once the gun was in his hand, it was like a switch flipped and his body fell into old patterns, old routines. He grabbed the handle and twisted to check if there was a lock or something on the door at the top of the stairs. If there wasn't he would slowly and hopefully quietly push the door open.

 

[Atrus]

((Sorry for the late reply!))

Going out into the hallway, Craft finds... Rourke, who's coming up from downstairs, flashlight and gun in hand. Craft quickly explains their situation, and together they make for the door. Tackling it together, they can probably tear it down.

Rourke put some extra strength in the job. Denzel was likely behind the door. God, he was going to kill that fucking n-. How did he dare put hands on his daughter? And foolish, foolish her for falling for someone who, by all rights, should have been a slave and not a free man.

After a couple tries the door eventually gives out and the two men stumble and almost fall into the room. All eyes turn to look at them. Including the ghost, who sees Rourke and shrieks in terror.

 

[Sarah Whittaker]

When the ghost moves, Sarah's eyes move to locate and identify the movement.

Again, the hindbrain defers to the forebrain, passing the information on. Sarah jolts back to a higher level of consciousness, and this time she screams. If anyone else could actually see the ghost, they might be amused by how similar the two women are at this moment - same basic expression, same terror mannerism.......