I2DT: Oh, he's a wanderer

[Sean Hall]

Sean is both relieved despite the coughing from the smoke. He leans against the car listening to the radio broadcast while he recovers from his coughing fit. The story on the radio reminds him of the dream from the other night and for a moment he's reminded of all the blood, viscera, and those damnable green eyes.

"This town *cough* is going to be the *cough* death of me," Sean muttered.

Trying to distract himself he digs in his pocket for a piece of paper to write the numbers from the radio down on.

[Narrator]

The numbers seem to be a relatively short repeating pattern and after a couple repetitions the news-report seems to cut back in. It seems to be a different broadcast though, the voice having a distinct American accent to it.

".....pparently dragged his two year old son into the garage where he died from two point-blank range shots to the chest. Afterwards the man was confronted by his wife in the kitchen where he emptied the rest of his clip into her before drinking a bottle of drain-cleaner and dieing from internal bleeding shortly afterwards. The pistol used had been purchased a week ago and the owner of the store said the man had seemed nervous, often mumbling numbers under his breath but that he saw no reason not to sell him a weapon. The state police claims to have found no evidence of anything connecting this case to the domestic homicide case from only four months ago but is suspecting economic problems and social issues could play a part as a larger trend in both cases. Gun control activists have......"

The broadcast is interrupted by the same repeating numbers again for a moment only to dissolve into a language Sean doesn't know but from the rhythm of the voice sounds like another news report.

[Sean Hall]

Sean looked at the piece of paper and the pattern for a moment before sighing and putting it back in his pocket. He was trying not to think about the nightmare from last night and instead looked at what was left of the creature now that it was dead. He knelt beside it trying to distract himself now with an investigation into the creatures nature.

"Wonder if you were at the root of all this," Sean said trying to detect if the creature had a magic footprint or signature he could detect now that it couldn't hide itself.

[Narrator]

The only thing Sean can sense from the creature is that it feels... familiar somehow? That could just be because he pelted it with his own spells though. It seems more like some kind of manifestation itself rather than the cause of anything.

[Sean Hall]

Sean sighed at the lack of information and looked up from the body at the world around him. T

"Maybe there'll be something in one of Melody's books I can use to find out where you came from," Sean said before performing a somewhat gruesome act. He attempted to snap off one of the creatures clawed fingers.

[Narrator]

It's almost disturbingly easy to break off one of the charred digits. Some blackened skin flakes away when he grabs a hold of it, but other than that it stays in one piece. It smells disgusting, like rancid bacon. The radio finally seems to die completely, fading into static and then nothingness.

[Sean Hall]

Sean rummages in his pockets for something to hold the finger. Eventually settling on another piece of paper that he folds around the severed digit and seals with magic.

"So much for being a peaceful village," Sean muttered to himself as he stood up from the corpse trying to decide what on earth he was going to do with it.

[Narrator]

It's certainly a corpse. Sitting in a deserted street. Surrounded by houses that look like they've been abandoned years ago. Did they always look this run down? You'd think that he would have noticed. And several windows are broken or boarded up. This really doesn't look all that much like Maldon anymore, the general layout of the houses and streets aside. And from what he can see on the horizon the ocean has retracted way too much to be just the tide.

[Sean Hall]

"Oh, well...damn," Sean said seeming to finally take in the difference in his surroundings. "This is all bloody wrong. How did I even get here?"

He walked towards the nearest intersection hoping to find a sign to get his bearings. At the very least he hoped he'd see something a bit more familiar.

[Narrator]

The streets are kind of familiar, he's reasonably certain he could find his way back to the school for starters, but other than that everything is just kind of wrong. Here and there cars are abandoned and trash is lieing on the street.

[Sean Hall]

Sean began wandering back to downtown Maldon first before heading back to the school. The transformation was making him nervous that something terrible had happened.

"Dimensional shift? Or perhaps time travel? Or maybe some kind of vision...a prophecy or some such," Sean mused to himself as he walked trying to hide his nerves behind curiosity.

[Narrator]

As he's walking he can occasionally hear static on the radios of the cars he's passing by, but other than that the whole town is quiet and empty. One of the store windows full of worn and faded clothes hanging on mannequins has graffiti scrawled across it.

The only me is me. Are you sure the only you is you?

[Sean Hall]

"That's a... that's a frightening thought," Sean said staring at the graffiti for a moment before continuing on his wandering. He wasn't really sure what to make of it or the emptiness of the town though at this point he was very strongly thinking he's no longer Kansas as it were.

[Narrator]

It's like walking through a dream, hard to tell when or where it happens, but suddenly he's back and he knows he's been back for at least the last couple steps. Looking over his shoulder the street has a couple people wandering back and forth, cars are rolling and even though the sun isn't shining brightly it's at least adding a little bit of color tot he world again. It would be easy to write the whole thing off as a dream if it wasn't for the twitch in his pocket reminding him of the memento he picked up.

[Charles Franklin]

Sean stops and stares for a while before pulling the small folded paper out from his pocket. He saw it still contained whatever it was and he rapidly pocketed it again.

"Going to need far more than coffee to deal with this shite..." Sean muttered but he knew first he needed to get back to campus.

[Narrator]

The finger is indeed still where he left it, but it seems to have left a message scrawled onto the paper with, quite possibly, the soot from it's own burned skin.

There is a peak in distant Tran
Beyond the wonted haunts of man
Where broods alone in a hideous state
Spirits dead and desolate

[Sean Hall]

Sean shivered involuntarily at the thought of the severed finger writing a note.

"Zan?" Sean asked himself glad he'd grabbed the finger and hoping maybe something come of the investigation.