Topic: Ontological Mystery

[Darth Grievi]

Yes, I know I haven't been around here in ages. College does that, apparently... Yes, I know Containment Leak is still hanging. Unfortunately, I feel I've been on hiatus far too long to properly drum up a voting base again, especially now that the thread is well over 10 pages long. I don't want anyone to have to reread that much to get back into the story. Hence, I've decided to start fresh this time with a classic ontological mystery. Onward, ho!


All you remember is pain from the missing time. Pain and abject horror. The first thing you notice is the overpowering scent of sweat and body odor, so strong you can taste it, causing you to cough and gag. Dazed and disoriented, you struggle to open your eyes, only to find them seemingly paralyzed, unable to even move your eyeballs under the lids. You panic for a brief instant before you fight it down and begin to take stock of the situation. Carefully feeling about, you find yourself in your bed, the familiar nightstand nearby, with the same clock and lamp as always. You aren't in your clothes, though, as the shirt you are wearing is easily two sizes too small, while the pants are long and baggy. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you hear and feel several of the seams and buttons on the shirt give way. At least it wasn't strangling you anymore. The room is otherwise completely silent, save for the ragged sounds of your breathing and the faint whistling breaths of someone else nearby, presumably your roommate still asleep.

You know there's a clinic on the grounds, not too far from your room, but you worry about making your way there blind. Rolling over, you manage to sit up on the bed, wincing as your entire body protests the movement. You hold onto the nightstand for support until the wave of dizziness passes. Feeling something in your pockets, you search them for any sort of clue to what had happened. You pull out a familiar-feeling pocket knife, cell phone, keyring, and wallet, along with several wadded up papers that could have been anything from napkins to notes to dollars. Fumbling the wallet open, you find a host of cards and dollar bills, but who the former belonged to and the denominations of the latter were a mystery. Now that you feel you've assessed the situation as well as you can, you try to calmly think of what to do next.

Inventory
(1) Pocket knife with (4) attachments: Knife, Scissors, Corkscrew, Screwdriver
(1) Cellphone
(1) Wallet with ( 8 ) cards and (20) bills of unknown value
(1) Keyring with (5) keys and (1) bottle opener

[Galactic-Warrior]

Check the cellphone to see if we have any reception and take a look around so we can figure out where we are.

[Darth Grievi]

You pull out and fumble with the cellphone, managing to open it up. You can't read the screen, since you still can't open your eyes, but a quick call to one of your friends' numbers confirms that you still have battery and are getting reception, even if you only get their voicemail. You don't leave a message, but instead close the phone and return it to your pocket.

In the interest of confirming you are indeed in your room, you continue feeling about. Dresser, picture frames, light fixtures, just about everything you could reach from sitting on the bed felt to be in the same place it was when you last left it however long ago. What had happened between then and now was a mystery. Based on the aches and pains of your body, you suspect it was something along the lines of the wildest party of your life. You still needed to figure out what was wrong with your eyes, though. That, and why your room smelled like the locker room from hell. The soft breathing hasn't changed.

[Brandonazz]

Feel your eyes.

[Darth Grievi]

Curious about your current problem, you reach up and try to touch your eyes. Maybe they were just glued shut, and a quick wipe might solve everything. Unfortunately, you find this not to be the case. Your panic wells up again as your fingers contact only smooth, unbroken skin where your eyes were supposed to be, and in a moment of morbid curiosity, you find that putting pressure on the area still felt very much like normal, a dull feeling of pain as whatever was left of your eyeballs was compressed. Were they still at least partially intact? Could this be fixed? You do your best to not scream out in horror as an image of what you must look like now pops to the forefront of your mind. You really had to get to a doctor...

[Brandonazz]

I just realized what this reminded me of!

Try to speak, see if you can still do that.

[Galactic-Warrior]

What he said.

[Darth Grievi]

Thoroughly disturbed, you decide the next course of action was to check if everything else important was intact. First on the list was being able to talk.

"H-Hello?" you ask, trying to whisper, but finding your voice to be far louder than you wanted it. You pause for a moment as you inspect what appears to be an entirely new set of teeth with your tongue. There is a moment of brief confusion as you could have sworn something sharp stabbed the inside of your mouth, but you are unable to recreate it. Your voice was a little hoarse, but otherwise intact, if a little... different, somehow. As if it was someone trying to do a half-decent imitation of your voice.

Your thoughts grind to a halt as you notice that the soft breathing has gotten subtly louder, followed by the sounds of cloth rubbing against cloth as someone shifts nearby, likely your roommate on the other bed. You debate whether to ask for his help to get to a doctor, but a low gurgling suddenly breaks the silence...

[UFO King]

Your roommate is just snoring again. Wake it up.

[Darth Grievi]

Convinced that you couldn't take care of this entirely by yourself, you raise your voice slightly and try to wake your roommate as gently as you can without startling him too badly.

"Dan? Danny? Dan, I really need your help. Don't freak out, it's just me, but I need your help getting to a doc--"

Your request is abruptly interrupted by something large and muscular pouncing on you, slamming you back into the wall as it digs its claws into you.

[lowlevelowl]

Try to pull out your pocket knife to stab it, but if that doesn't seem like it will work in time, bite it. Bite it hard.

[Darth Grievi]

You reach into your pocket and quickly pull out the knife, flipping it open and swiping blindly in the creature's general direction, the smell of decay on the monster's breath and the rumblings it made your only indications of where it was. You feel it shift its grip, letting go of one of your shoulders as it begins to back away out of range of your weapon. Something briefly brushes against your cheek and, seeing your chance, you twist your head and bite down hard on what you assumed to be your attacker's limb. The creature shrieks loudly, nearly deafening you as you continue your assault. The monster tries to twist and pull its limb out of your grip, but you hold on tenaciously and shift your focus to slashing at the limb. As your clothes and the bed underneath you become soaked with both your blood and that of the creature's, the bones in the limb crack loudly and give way, issuing another oddly human scream from its owner. It tries to move in again, but you somehow manage to keep it at bay with the random flailing of your pocketknife.

You don't know how long the two of you struggled, but eventually your attacker's grip on your other shoulder loosens and its body falls limp, collapsing noisily to the floor. It nearly dragged you with it, but you manage to calm yourself enough to manage to unlock your jaws and let go of the shattered limb. The metallic smell of blood overwhelms you, and it is all you can do to keep from gagging. Still in shock, you slowly and painfully assess your wounds. The beast hadn't managed to bite you, but its claws had left a set of four punctures on each shoulder, along with two slashes dangerously close to your neck.

Unsteadily, you slide off your bed, pushing the still body of the monster aside, and stagger into your bathroom, the heels of your feet screaming in pain with each step. You enter with your knife still at the ready, and close the door behind you before you begin to rummage through the drawers for the roll of gauze you kept on hand for emergencies. You locate it eventually, and dress your wounds to the best of your ability, finding no other identifiable or useful supplies. With the task completed, you sink to the floor and slump backwards against the wall, dazed, terrified, starving, dehydrated, and in pain.

[Guilmon]

Call for Strelock.

I'd say use the phone. Call for help. Or a doctor. Maybe the Doctor. Or Strelock.

[Galactic-Warrior]

Ehh... I doubt that will help. Since it seems we have a body different from what we're used to, try checking out if we have anything else that wasn't there before. Also, see if we have anything else that normally shouldn't be there mentally. I.E. mind powers.

[Guilmon]

Yes. I agree. Feel yourself up.

And call Strelock.