My possessions have been added to again. In addition to previously listed supplies I now possess a small tarnished key (made of silver or pewter) and what appears to be a small handgun with a single round of ammunition (Beretta M9A1, US Armed Forces standard issue). I am starting to believe someone is taunting me. I still have no idea who I am or why I am here. My only option is to explore. With this goal in mind I am about to leave this room again. All of my supplies are in my backpack, including the handgun. The only exceptions are the dog tags (which I am wearing) and the multitool, which is in my pocket.
I am proceeding down the hallway. It appears to extend approximately 50 feet past where the window’s view showed empty air. The hallway dead-ends, with the only option being a stairwell going down on the right side. I am now following it. There is a landing at the bottom that twists left. Now taking that. There are brownish smudges on the wallpaper, many purely random but some seeming to form designs. The smudges appear to be blood. For some reason, this does not worry me. The house is silent aside from my footsteps and a slight echo from my dictation. This stairwell appears to spiral down into the atrium of what was once an elegant two-story-high grand foyer, which is now in an advanced state of disrepair. Large sections of the plaster ceiling have collapsed to the floor below, the wallpaper is covered in more brown smudges, and-
(sounds of vomiting)
Sorry. There are bodies here. Dozens of them. They appear to have been in the process of some form of cannibalistic sex orgy when they were all killed by what looks like gunfire. The bodies are dessicated, almost mummified, but somehow their features are not distorted. Primary hypothesis is now that the blood on the walls was left there in the process of this orgy. I am now standing in front of the main doors. There is a message on them, written in blood. It reads:
“Even if you escape, you will never leave.
He sees all, he knows all, he hunts all.
You are His and He shall have you in the end”
Another of the circled Xes was scratched into the wood below this message by what appear to be human fingernails, each groove then filled with blood. I do not know who “He” is. Perhaps the person who brought me here. Perhaps someone else. I don’t really care at the moment. I am pushing the doors open.
I have now stepped outside. The air smells slightly acrid and bitter, but very moist. Everything is enveloped in a moderately dense fog. I appear to be on the outskirts of a small town. All details match what I saw from the window, though judging by my route down the window would have to face into the center of the house. Perhaps such things are normal. There also appears to be some form of time-distortion in effect, as even after such a seemingly short period I am tired again. I am going to attempt to walk into town before resting, but first I am going to type up these observations.
Why am I not hungry or thirsty?