cult activity candles are strewn about the room, almost all of them are still lit, others have been melted to small pools of wax upon the floorboards, tables and shelves. some candles are arranged in small circles around animal skulls and bloodied scraps of paper and fabric, sometimes arranged around chalk symbols. these candles are the only source of light within the apartment, as the light bulbs have been removed, and the windows have been boarded up.
clean and inconspicuous nothing really seems off, other than the dead body. there is no sign of a struggle, and mostly everything seems to be in its correct place. something about this is still unnerving, however, and it’s hard to shake off that sense of dread.
conspiracy theorist? photographs, maps, newspaper clippings, and notes are hanging from the ceiling, pinned to massive noticeboards up and down the walls, and even scattered on the floor. everything is a mess. it feels like both a darkroom and a tomb; the person obviously spent most of their life holed up in this horrid environment, and maybe this was their downfall. it is very unsettling to stay in the room for long, almost depressing, being surrounded by one person’s pent-up insanity.
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