Encounterlogs
Liams Odd Encounter Sr Lenny 250121
In the serene setting of Fertile Valley Florists' Tea Room, a moment of calm is shattered when a panicked woman bursts in, seeking help after her son, Ash, is lost in the woods, pursued by a wolf. Liam, a man of calm demeanor, quickly steps up, offering reassurance and leading the search into the forest. With dusk setting in, they navigate towards the last known location of her son, the Antlers. The atmosphere is dense with tension and the scent of blood, hinting at the potential intelligibility of the creature they face. Liam's questions, seemingly odd under the circumstances, hint at a deeper understanding of the situation, blending concern with pragmatism as they venture into the woods, their connection growing amidst the crisis.
On a different note, Lenny experiences a haunting encounter that transcends the physical, faced with a shower that maliciously soaks him and mirrors that mock his every move. His dwelling, one of combat with his own reflection, metamorphoses into a battleground against an unseen force, manifesting as a spirit that possesses him, inciting uncontrollable fury. Driven by anger and desperation, Lenny engages in a grim struggle for control, culminating in a surreal and bloody climax. Miraculously, he survives unscathed, finding himself back in his unchanged bathroom, confronting the reality of his ordeal with a mix of relief and lingering defiance. Both tales weave elements of the supernatural with human resilience, showcasing how the characters confront their fears and adversaries, emerging transformed yet unbroken.
(Liam's odd encounter(SRLenny):SRLenny)
[Mon Jan 20 2025]
In Fertile Valley Florists - Tea Room
As you step into the tea room cafe, you are greeted by a stunning display of royal floral arrangements that adorn every corner of the room. The aroma of fresh flowers fills the air, creating a soothing and serene atmosphere that invites you to relax and enjoy your tea. The walls are painted in a soft pastel hue, with intricate floral wallpaper adding a touch of whimsy and elegance to the space. The same floor of a reddish brick extends here, and the window sills have a rustic kick with their off white wooden trim.
The western wall is dominated by a large white shelving unit which houses many delicate china teacup and saucer sets of varying patterns, shapes and sizes. It would seem the patrons of this tea room are encouraged to select the set that most fits their mood for the day to enjoy their hot drinks. The rustic, wooden bakery counter with its domed glass coverings is adorned with an array of delicious treats, from freshly baked croissants and pastries to colorful cupcakes and cookies.
Along the southern wall, surrounding the stained glass windows that fill the room with a rainbow of colors throughout the day are the cafe tables with chairs upholstered in luxurious pastel fabrics.
It is dusk, about 17F(-8C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
(Your target's been contacted to help find a civilian who's become lost in the woods.
)
In the late afternoon in the Tea room it's relatively sparsely populated in the Valley Florists. The odd person enjoys their tea. The people Liam was talking to have gone off to do their own thing. Leaving only Liam alone at the counter. For a long time it seems like it might just be a quiet moment for Liam, but that never last in Haven when the front door burst open and a panicked woman with brown hair, casual winter clothes and a scratch on her forehead comes in. "Someone help me! A wolf attacked me and I lost my son!" her words are rapid and panic'd and she doesn't quite pick out Liam in the crowd or anything, she's looking for general help.
Liam is the type to want to try to keep things calm, if he can, especially when people are screaming about wolves in Haven. He finishes his tea, tosses the cup into the nearest bin, rhen approaches the woman with a reassuring smile before she can draw any more attention than she's already done. "Hey, hey, slow down. I'm Liam. You say theres been an attack?"
a middle-aged woman with long brown hair looks hopeful but still panic'd and full of fear as she looks to Liam, a lifeline in human form. "My son and I were staying at the Antlers and decided to take a walk through the woods for something to do." she begins, her words so fast they are hard to keep track of. She stays by the door and half turns towards it, the stress and tension of her wanting to bolt back out there to try and find her son is very pressing on her instinct.
She resist this temptation to explain further, "Then out of no where this wolf came after us, it was huge. My boy, Ash, he ran the other way. I tried to get the wolf to follow me but it wanted to go after him."
Liam sighs, scratching at the back of his head somewhat awkwardly. He gives the woman an uncomfortable smile, losing the reassurance ever so slightly. "Ah, you hadn't heard about the wildlife here? Its one of the first things we try to tell new arrivals-don't go in the woods. One of the wilder places left in the united states. Look, who knows you're here? Do you have some family that was expecting you on your road trip? Anybody who'll miss you on this delay?" An odd series of questions, but Liam appears so calm and collected, and has been only helpful so far. Surely they're meant to help the woman?
Furrowing her brow a middle-aged woman with long brown hair seems confused by Liam's questions, these are not the things a mother would worry about when her son could be literally eaten alive at the very moment, "Wha'? No, its just us. I tried calling the police but no one picked up." she steps one foot towards the door. "I need help..please." she says desperately. Expecting Liam to just jump to her aid, unarmed, against a man-eating wolf. People do strange things when they are desperate.
"I understand." Liam assures the woman, and begins striding towards the door. "C'mon. Show me where you last saw Ash, and we'll go from there, alright?" Liam smiles at the woman, once more. "Whats your name? And sorry about the police, they're a bit busy these days. Hopefully we can resolve this without heading directly to the station, eh?"
Thats all it takes for the woman's hope to return. She heads out the door with Liam coming after her, the Florist isn't far from the Antlers and the forest behind it and so they cut across the street on foot and head into the inner woods. Most creatures don't come this far in unless it's high mist. Which it is not right now. No this creature is very likely intelligent.
Very quickly, Liam would smell the scent of blood and wolf on the air long before any sign of struggle or foot prints in the snow could be seen. The woman seems to be following her own tracks back to a clearing about three hundred feet into the forest. The Antlers can still be glimpsed through the trees from here. "We are almost there." The woman stresses
(Your target is possessed by an angry spirit that is forcing them to act out and putting themselves and/or others at risk. They must either defeat it or find a way to calm it down.
)
Lenny is just finishing up in the bathroom after having a shower. Of course he didn't wash his hair. That would risk washing away the grease that keeps it perfectly slicked back. But the rest of him is washed and he pulls on his clothes, his kevlar vest is put on under his jacket and the jacket is zipped up to conceal it. He's been wearing armor for weeks for fear someones going to jump him for some slight or another.
Lenny is sure he turned the shower off, but a slow squeak signals the turning of the faucet as the shower head starts to leak.
*drip* *drip *galooosh*
Looking back to the shower, Lenny sees the spray widen, the water splashing out of the screened enclosure as it starts to spit at him, splattering at his clothing. Before Lenny can reach inside to turn off the water, the water marks on his vest start to spread, and what once was damp becomes sodden. A murky puddle forms at Lenny's feet when the faucet finally shuts off with a screeching of pipes, which, in the creepy silence of the bathroom, sounds far too much like mocking laughter to Lenny.@line
A subtle anger starts to swell in Lenny's chest, a fury at being soaked and mocked, through no fault of his own, and as he reaches out for a towel, one step outside the puddle sees the cloudy wetness shoot up his legs, a wet, cold sensation ploughing through Lenny's body. Shocked, too stunned to move, a gentle hiss of steam starts to emanate from him, the dampness of his clothing drying at abnormal speeds as his body seemingly absorbs the cold liquid, leaving Lenny simmering in a heated rage, not of his own making.
Lenny is sure he turned the shower off, but a slow squeak signals the turning of the faucet as the shower head starts to leak.
*drip* *drip *galooosh*
Looking back to the shower, Lenny sees the spray widen, the water splashing out of the screened enclosure as it starts to spit at him, splattering at his clothing. Before Lenny can reach inside to turn off the water, the water marks on his vest start to spread, and what once was damp becomes sodden. A murky puddle forms at Lenny's feet when the faucet finally shuts off with a screeching of pipes, which, in the creepy silence of the bathroom, sounds far too much like mocking laughter to Lenny.
A subtle anger starts to swell in Lenny's chest, a fury at being soaked and mocked, through no fault of his own, and as he reaches out for a towel, one step outside the puddle sees the cloudy wetness shoot up his legs, a wet, cold sensation ploughing through Lenny's body. Shocked, too stunned to move, a gentle hiss of steam starts to emanate from him, the dampness of his clothing drying at abnormal speeds as his body seemingly absorbs the cold liquid, leaving Lenny simmering in a heated rage, not of his own making.
"Ah fuck." Lenny grumbles as the water comes spraying out of the faucet, he distinctly thinks he's not going to pay for this. Thats Embers problem but he does in fact try to get in there and stop it. He gets wet. When the laughing begins, he's not surprised either. He's been haunted recently too by someone he doesn't know. But usually a haunting doesn't involve actual practical effects.
It's only when he starts to feel a swell in his chest that he experiences something wrong, but its too late. He's pissed off he fell for this trick. He rapidly grows in rage as the cold liquid absorbs into him.
A simmering fury rolls through Lenny, the next gleefully mocking sound sounding as if it originated from his own chest. The fogged up mirror starts to clear, clarity blooming from the center to reflect Lenny's face. If Lenny were to look at himself, he would see he looked his usual creapy self, except for the tinge of redness that creeps along his skin.
The faucets in the sinks start to creek as they turn, water beginning to dribble out of them as the toilet begins to bubble, the level rising. If Lenny had flushed it earlier, the substances threatening to flood over the rim and soak his boots would be less noxious.
Eyeing himself Lenny checks himself in the mirror. He hates what he sees, perhaps he always hates what he sees but it could just be the sheer anger he is feeling that is not his own. He takes what little agency of his body he has and tries to throw his fist into the mirror and smash it so he doesn't have to look at himself, risking cuts to his hands in doing so. He also doesn't notice the water over flowing from the toilet but fortunately the guy does flush, he does live in a house with a woman. He never puts the toilet seat down though.
As Lenny rams his hand into the mirror, it retains a surreal rubbery tension, before it finally gives way. Cracks radiate in slow motion, branching like jagged lightening strikes. For a moment, it looks like it won't break entirely, but then the center gives way, shards cascading down in an eerie, almost weightless descent.
Instead of clattering to the sink below, the shards hover briefly, each reflecting a distorting image of Lenny's face, warped, flickering, red. The surface of the shards start to glow, redder and redder, pulsing in time with the sound of mocking laughter that increases to a deafening volume. One shard lingers, and in it, Lenny's reflection doesn't match his movements, the mirror-Lenny smirking back at him. It mouths words that Lenny can't hear, but it's lips form the the unmistakable words, 'You're mine.""
Doesn't feel panic at the loss of control, or even concern that he wont eventually get himself back. He's just so pissed, "You fuckin'..bi-..fuck." he remains gender neutral since he doesn't know whos doing this, but he definitely wanted to say bitch. He withdraws his hand not caring if it got cut or not.
"I wont let you have me." Lenny says with the utmost confidence laced with anger. He reaches then to grab for one of the hovering shards, something sharp and jagged that cuts into his palm even as he grips it.
The hovering shard does indeed slice into Lenny's palm as he grips it, and as a trickle of blood starts to dribble over the smirking image on that jagged piece of mirror, the smirking image is erased. On the wall above, a large slice of mirror which clings to the wall reflects the possessed, reddened Lenny, it's smirk fading as it glances down and sees the erasing of its own twisted reflection in the shard Lenny holds. The mocking laughter falters, then cuts off entirely, replaced by an eerie silence that presses against Lenny's ears.
The shard in his hand begins to dim, its glow fading into nothingness as the image of the smirking, reddened figure is wiped away. The oppressive weight of the room increases, Lenny's reflection pulsing in the remaining shards untouched by his blood, as the fury pulses through Lenny louder, harder than ever.
Lenny grins like a maniac, its the angry grin of a man who hates something so deeply such a supernatural spirit possessing him and now he has a chance to get payback. He doesn't hesitate, not really as he brings the jagged glass to slash his arm deep. He bleeds significantly almost immediately. He probably cut too deep in his haste but he's too fired up to slow down. He whips his bleeding arm to spray blood across the mirrors, over and over. Making quite the mess as he does so. It's metal as hell.
Something screams. It's not Lenny, but it's coming from within him. Blood sprays against the mirror, the slightest touch erasing the demonic creep who gazes out from its depths, and as Lenny starts to slash deep into his arm, his brachial artery starts to spurt in hot red pulses which are clearly unsustainable.
*SPURT* SPURT* SPURT*
The shards of mirror littering the ground each are drenched in the manically cackling man's life blood as he hacks at his arms, no sense, no pain, no feeling, just wild, red-eyed madness inspired by fury and hatred. The reflective panels of the shower receive spurt upon spurt as Lenny moves, each erasing another wild-eyed demonic face.
Eventually, Lenny's slashing starts to slow, the blood loss having the expected impact, and before long, Lenny sinks to his knees, his movements sluggish. Still, his shard-wielding hand flails, stabbing only air, until he is curled in a bloody puddle in the once-well-kept bathroom of his home.
Bright white light assails Lenny's vision as he opens his eyes, a panicking hand reaching out to feel at his bicep, now the simmering rage has passed, but there's nothing there. No wounds, no shards. As Lenny's eyesight clears, he groggily pushes himself upwards, a blinding pain thrumming in the back of his head and a wet sliver of soap stuck to the sole of his foot.
Except for the dripping of the shower faucet, the bathroom looks just as it did when he entered, clean, tidy, and with the toilet seat left up.
Lenny was prepared for death in those last moments, he always is. He'd rather die than be a puppet of anyone and will make that decision in a heartbeat. So when he wakes up on the cold floor to find all is normal he is not suddenly happy, he's just accepting of the fact he still breathes for another day. There is a bit of a scowl from him and he picks himself off the floor and says out loud as if he knows someone is listening, "Don't ever let me find out who's fuckin' with me." and thats that.
On a different note, Lenny experiences a haunting encounter that transcends the physical, faced with a shower that maliciously soaks him and mirrors that mock his every move. His dwelling, one of combat with his own reflection, metamorphoses into a battleground against an unseen force, manifesting as a spirit that possesses him, inciting uncontrollable fury. Driven by anger and desperation, Lenny engages in a grim struggle for control, culminating in a surreal and bloody climax. Miraculously, he survives unscathed, finding himself back in his unchanged bathroom, confronting the reality of his ordeal with a mix of relief and lingering defiance. Both tales weave elements of the supernatural with human resilience, showcasing how the characters confront their fears and adversaries, emerging transformed yet unbroken.
(Liam's odd encounter(SRLenny):SRLenny)
[Mon Jan 20 2025]
In Fertile Valley Florists - Tea Room
As you step into the tea room cafe, you are greeted by a stunning display of royal floral arrangements that adorn every corner of the room. The aroma of fresh flowers fills the air, creating a soothing and serene atmosphere that invites you to relax and enjoy your tea. The walls are painted in a soft pastel hue, with intricate floral wallpaper adding a touch of whimsy and elegance to the space. The same floor of a reddish brick extends here, and the window sills have a rustic kick with their off white wooden trim.
The western wall is dominated by a large white shelving unit which houses many delicate china teacup and saucer sets of varying patterns, shapes and sizes. It would seem the patrons of this tea room are encouraged to select the set that most fits their mood for the day to enjoy their hot drinks. The rustic, wooden bakery counter with its domed glass coverings is adorned with an array of delicious treats, from freshly baked croissants and pastries to colorful cupcakes and cookies.
Along the southern wall, surrounding the stained glass windows that fill the room with a rainbow of colors throughout the day are the cafe tables with chairs upholstered in luxurious pastel fabrics.
It is dusk, about 17F(-8C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
(Your target's been contacted to help find a civilian who's become lost in the woods.
)
In the late afternoon in the Tea room it's relatively sparsely populated in the Valley Florists. The odd person enjoys their tea. The people Liam was talking to have gone off to do their own thing. Leaving only Liam alone at the counter. For a long time it seems like it might just be a quiet moment for Liam, but that never last in Haven when the front door burst open and a panicked woman with brown hair, casual winter clothes and a scratch on her forehead comes in. "Someone help me! A wolf attacked me and I lost my son!" her words are rapid and panic'd and she doesn't quite pick out Liam in the crowd or anything, she's looking for general help.
Liam is the type to want to try to keep things calm, if he can, especially when people are screaming about wolves in Haven. He finishes his tea, tosses the cup into the nearest bin, rhen approaches the woman with a reassuring smile before she can draw any more attention than she's already done. "Hey, hey, slow down. I'm Liam. You say theres been an attack?"
a middle-aged woman with long brown hair looks hopeful but still panic'd and full of fear as she looks to Liam, a lifeline in human form. "My son and I were staying at the Antlers and decided to take a walk through the woods for something to do." she begins, her words so fast they are hard to keep track of. She stays by the door and half turns towards it, the stress and tension of her wanting to bolt back out there to try and find her son is very pressing on her instinct.
She resist this temptation to explain further, "Then out of no where this wolf came after us, it was huge. My boy, Ash, he ran the other way. I tried to get the wolf to follow me but it wanted to go after him."
Liam sighs, scratching at the back of his head somewhat awkwardly. He gives the woman an uncomfortable smile, losing the reassurance ever so slightly. "Ah, you hadn't heard about the wildlife here? Its one of the first things we try to tell new arrivals-don't go in the woods. One of the wilder places left in the united states. Look, who knows you're here? Do you have some family that was expecting you on your road trip? Anybody who'll miss you on this delay?" An odd series of questions, but Liam appears so calm and collected, and has been only helpful so far. Surely they're meant to help the woman?
Furrowing her brow a middle-aged woman with long brown hair seems confused by Liam's questions, these are not the things a mother would worry about when her son could be literally eaten alive at the very moment, "Wha'? No, its just us. I tried calling the police but no one picked up." she steps one foot towards the door. "I need help..please." she says desperately. Expecting Liam to just jump to her aid, unarmed, against a man-eating wolf. People do strange things when they are desperate.
"I understand." Liam assures the woman, and begins striding towards the door. "C'mon. Show me where you last saw Ash, and we'll go from there, alright?" Liam smiles at the woman, once more. "Whats your name? And sorry about the police, they're a bit busy these days. Hopefully we can resolve this without heading directly to the station, eh?"
Thats all it takes for the woman's hope to return. She heads out the door with Liam coming after her, the Florist isn't far from the Antlers and the forest behind it and so they cut across the street on foot and head into the inner woods. Most creatures don't come this far in unless it's high mist. Which it is not right now. No this creature is very likely intelligent.
Very quickly, Liam would smell the scent of blood and wolf on the air long before any sign of struggle or foot prints in the snow could be seen. The woman seems to be following her own tracks back to a clearing about three hundred feet into the forest. The Antlers can still be glimpsed through the trees from here. "We are almost there." The woman stresses
(Your target is possessed by an angry spirit that is forcing them to act out and putting themselves and/or others at risk. They must either defeat it or find a way to calm it down.
)
Lenny is just finishing up in the bathroom after having a shower. Of course he didn't wash his hair. That would risk washing away the grease that keeps it perfectly slicked back. But the rest of him is washed and he pulls on his clothes, his kevlar vest is put on under his jacket and the jacket is zipped up to conceal it. He's been wearing armor for weeks for fear someones going to jump him for some slight or another.
Lenny is sure he turned the shower off, but a slow squeak signals the turning of the faucet as the shower head starts to leak.
*drip* *drip *galooosh*
Looking back to the shower, Lenny sees the spray widen, the water splashing out of the screened enclosure as it starts to spit at him, splattering at his clothing. Before Lenny can reach inside to turn off the water, the water marks on his vest start to spread, and what once was damp becomes sodden. A murky puddle forms at Lenny's feet when the faucet finally shuts off with a screeching of pipes, which, in the creepy silence of the bathroom, sounds far too much like mocking laughter to Lenny.@line
A subtle anger starts to swell in Lenny's chest, a fury at being soaked and mocked, through no fault of his own, and as he reaches out for a towel, one step outside the puddle sees the cloudy wetness shoot up his legs, a wet, cold sensation ploughing through Lenny's body. Shocked, too stunned to move, a gentle hiss of steam starts to emanate from him, the dampness of his clothing drying at abnormal speeds as his body seemingly absorbs the cold liquid, leaving Lenny simmering in a heated rage, not of his own making.
Lenny is sure he turned the shower off, but a slow squeak signals the turning of the faucet as the shower head starts to leak.
*drip* *drip *galooosh*
Looking back to the shower, Lenny sees the spray widen, the water splashing out of the screened enclosure as it starts to spit at him, splattering at his clothing. Before Lenny can reach inside to turn off the water, the water marks on his vest start to spread, and what once was damp becomes sodden. A murky puddle forms at Lenny's feet when the faucet finally shuts off with a screeching of pipes, which, in the creepy silence of the bathroom, sounds far too much like mocking laughter to Lenny.
A subtle anger starts to swell in Lenny's chest, a fury at being soaked and mocked, through no fault of his own, and as he reaches out for a towel, one step outside the puddle sees the cloudy wetness shoot up his legs, a wet, cold sensation ploughing through Lenny's body. Shocked, too stunned to move, a gentle hiss of steam starts to emanate from him, the dampness of his clothing drying at abnormal speeds as his body seemingly absorbs the cold liquid, leaving Lenny simmering in a heated rage, not of his own making.
"Ah fuck." Lenny grumbles as the water comes spraying out of the faucet, he distinctly thinks he's not going to pay for this. Thats Embers problem but he does in fact try to get in there and stop it. He gets wet. When the laughing begins, he's not surprised either. He's been haunted recently too by someone he doesn't know. But usually a haunting doesn't involve actual practical effects.
It's only when he starts to feel a swell in his chest that he experiences something wrong, but its too late. He's pissed off he fell for this trick. He rapidly grows in rage as the cold liquid absorbs into him.
A simmering fury rolls through Lenny, the next gleefully mocking sound sounding as if it originated from his own chest. The fogged up mirror starts to clear, clarity blooming from the center to reflect Lenny's face. If Lenny were to look at himself, he would see he looked his usual creapy self, except for the tinge of redness that creeps along his skin.
The faucets in the sinks start to creek as they turn, water beginning to dribble out of them as the toilet begins to bubble, the level rising. If Lenny had flushed it earlier, the substances threatening to flood over the rim and soak his boots would be less noxious.
Eyeing himself Lenny checks himself in the mirror. He hates what he sees, perhaps he always hates what he sees but it could just be the sheer anger he is feeling that is not his own. He takes what little agency of his body he has and tries to throw his fist into the mirror and smash it so he doesn't have to look at himself, risking cuts to his hands in doing so. He also doesn't notice the water over flowing from the toilet but fortunately the guy does flush, he does live in a house with a woman. He never puts the toilet seat down though.
As Lenny rams his hand into the mirror, it retains a surreal rubbery tension, before it finally gives way. Cracks radiate in slow motion, branching like jagged lightening strikes. For a moment, it looks like it won't break entirely, but then the center gives way, shards cascading down in an eerie, almost weightless descent.
Instead of clattering to the sink below, the shards hover briefly, each reflecting a distorting image of Lenny's face, warped, flickering, red. The surface of the shards start to glow, redder and redder, pulsing in time with the sound of mocking laughter that increases to a deafening volume. One shard lingers, and in it, Lenny's reflection doesn't match his movements, the mirror-Lenny smirking back at him. It mouths words that Lenny can't hear, but it's lips form the the unmistakable words, 'You're mine.""
Doesn't feel panic at the loss of control, or even concern that he wont eventually get himself back. He's just so pissed, "You fuckin'..bi-..fuck." he remains gender neutral since he doesn't know whos doing this, but he definitely wanted to say bitch. He withdraws his hand not caring if it got cut or not.
"I wont let you have me." Lenny says with the utmost confidence laced with anger. He reaches then to grab for one of the hovering shards, something sharp and jagged that cuts into his palm even as he grips it.
The hovering shard does indeed slice into Lenny's palm as he grips it, and as a trickle of blood starts to dribble over the smirking image on that jagged piece of mirror, the smirking image is erased. On the wall above, a large slice of mirror which clings to the wall reflects the possessed, reddened Lenny, it's smirk fading as it glances down and sees the erasing of its own twisted reflection in the shard Lenny holds. The mocking laughter falters, then cuts off entirely, replaced by an eerie silence that presses against Lenny's ears.
The shard in his hand begins to dim, its glow fading into nothingness as the image of the smirking, reddened figure is wiped away. The oppressive weight of the room increases, Lenny's reflection pulsing in the remaining shards untouched by his blood, as the fury pulses through Lenny louder, harder than ever.
Lenny grins like a maniac, its the angry grin of a man who hates something so deeply such a supernatural spirit possessing him and now he has a chance to get payback. He doesn't hesitate, not really as he brings the jagged glass to slash his arm deep. He bleeds significantly almost immediately. He probably cut too deep in his haste but he's too fired up to slow down. He whips his bleeding arm to spray blood across the mirrors, over and over. Making quite the mess as he does so. It's metal as hell.
Something screams. It's not Lenny, but it's coming from within him. Blood sprays against the mirror, the slightest touch erasing the demonic creep who gazes out from its depths, and as Lenny starts to slash deep into his arm, his brachial artery starts to spurt in hot red pulses which are clearly unsustainable.
*SPURT* SPURT* SPURT*
The shards of mirror littering the ground each are drenched in the manically cackling man's life blood as he hacks at his arms, no sense, no pain, no feeling, just wild, red-eyed madness inspired by fury and hatred. The reflective panels of the shower receive spurt upon spurt as Lenny moves, each erasing another wild-eyed demonic face.
Eventually, Lenny's slashing starts to slow, the blood loss having the expected impact, and before long, Lenny sinks to his knees, his movements sluggish. Still, his shard-wielding hand flails, stabbing only air, until he is curled in a bloody puddle in the once-well-kept bathroom of his home.
Bright white light assails Lenny's vision as he opens his eyes, a panicking hand reaching out to feel at his bicep, now the simmering rage has passed, but there's nothing there. No wounds, no shards. As Lenny's eyesight clears, he groggily pushes himself upwards, a blinding pain thrumming in the back of his head and a wet sliver of soap stuck to the sole of his foot.
Except for the dripping of the shower faucet, the bathroom looks just as it did when he entered, clean, tidy, and with the toilet seat left up.
Lenny was prepared for death in those last moments, he always is. He'd rather die than be a puppet of anyone and will make that decision in a heartbeat. So when he wakes up on the cold floor to find all is normal he is not suddenly happy, he's just accepting of the fact he still breathes for another day. There is a bit of a scowl from him and he picks himself off the floor and says out loud as if he knows someone is listening, "Don't ever let me find out who's fuckin' with me." and thats that.