Dong! Dong! ...
The sound of a nearby bell ringing out fills your ears, jolting you awake from your deep sleep. You find yourself waking up on something wet and thick and... soft? How did you get here? Why are you here? Why are you not surrounded by the warmth of your blanket, why do you not feel the softness of your sheets?
The sound of rain invades your ears and as you lay there, recovering from being jolted awake, you begin to take in the scene around you - a graveyard. You awoke in the middle of a graveyard, your clothes wet and stained with mud.
With a pain-filled groan and a cuss, you stand up and look around. So many graves. So many people. Darkness. Rain. Wetness.
As you glance around, you notice something.. bizarre. There is a grave in front of you, in the shape of a cross. As you squint your eyes, focusing on the name on the grave and the date of death, it reads - Godot Wright, 10. 08. 2024.
A chill runs down your spine. The name seems oddly familiar, just where did you hear it before? As you keep staring, you feel a strong urge to reach out and trace the smooth, wet stone with your fingers...
[[Give in to the urge]]
[[Resist the urge]]... Dong! Dong! ...
With a deep sigh and a shaky hand - God, it is cold out here - you reach out and run it along the top of the cross, the stone smooth, wet and you are certain it is as cold as your fingers. The world begins to spin around you, panic swells up deep within your chest. What is going on? Why can´t you retract your hand? And the world plunges into darkness...
Soon after, you hear the faint clicking of a clock, your nostrils flare as you pick up on the scent of coffee. Your vision slowly returns to you, though it is blurry..blink, blink... Wait, are you in an office? A detective´s office?
Your eyes widen in shock as you glance around, your breath stuck in your throat. Is this a dream? Have you gotten drunk at the party you went to, perhaps? Are you finally losing it?
The desk you are sitting at is littered with lots of files and sticky notes, a pen rests between your fingers. And then you notice it - thick, calloused fingers attached to some strong arms. They do not belong to you - this body doesnt belong to you and neither does this uniform!
[[Look through the files on the desk]]
[[Stand up and investigate]]... Dong! Dong! ...
You shake your head and take a step back. It is disrespectful to do that.
You pay your respect to the poor man and then it hits you - he was one of the detectives in your town.
You begin to shiver. Man, it really is freezing out here. You still do not understand what you are doing out here, but you decide to head home. You do not want to catch a cold, do you?
The walk home was uneventful. You practically jogged home, your body trembling with cold, your teeth chattering, your clothes drenched and dirty.
Life seems to be the same afterwards. Though you cannot help but think of the strange night, the night you woke up at the strike of 12 in the middle of a graveyard.
Sometimes, you can still hear the voice from within the grave in the back of your head, though you ignore it, deciding to focus on the present.
After all, you cannot dwell on the past, cannot let it bother you, for it is not where you are headed. You are headed forward, towards the future.
... Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong! [[Dong...->end]]
You take a couple of breaths, your chest heaving up and down as panic swells inside you once more, you pick up the closest file to you.
You flick through it... a missing person case. Currently under investigation. The missing person is a young woman, a college student, by the name of Rachel Price.
She has gone missing three days ago, vanished without a trace. Last time she was seen leaving the school grounds - she was getting on a bus.
You feel a shiver run down your spine. You are once again jolted out of your thoughts as a cellphone begins to ring next to you. Unknown number.
[[Pick it up]]
[[Do not pick it up]]
... Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong! ...
You stand up, ready to play the cards you have the best you can.
... Dong! Dong! ...
Just as you approach the door, you feel something pulling you back...
[[Dong...->end]]... Dong! Dong! ...
If your heart could burst out of your chest, it already would have done so. As you pick up the phone, there is a soft, quiet voice coming through on the other side. The voice is repeating a strange set of numbers... just what is going on here!?
[[Write down the numbers]]
[[Ask the person on the other side who they are and what are they doing]]Screw this. You do not like phonecalls. Especially not from unknown numbers.
You continue flicking through the numerous papers in the file, the ringing of the phone has now come to a halt.
What an enigma. Why is this missing person case not public knowledge? Sure, you have seen some posters about this Rachel woman, but,,, no updates.
With a thoughtful hum, you take in all the information available - there is not a lot of it, and all it does is run in circles. Is this your time to play the Detective? But you have no knowledge of how to! Not to mention that all that is known of her is her appearance and when she was last seen. No cameras have captured her, nothing!
With a frustrated sigh, you...
[[Stand up and investigate]]
[[Stay in your office]]Dong! Dong!
As you write down the numbers, you notice something. Are those coordinates? And where do they lead? The phonecall stops to a halt. You sit there, utterly flabbergasted. Your eyes must be wide as saucers, your jaw practically dropped on the wooden floor of... your office.
You allow everything to sink in, slowly regaining your composure, your eyes still unfocused, staring at the desk in front of you, your entire body stiff, a whirl of emotions inside you.
Confusion, panic, fear.... perhaps a tinge of excitement and anticipation.
As you take deep breaths, trying to make sense of the ocean of emotions swimming inside you, you come to a realisation - how do you get back? What of the missing woman? It seems as though you are the one investigating this case.
Is that determination bubbling inside you? A sense of duty, responsibility?
[[Dong...->end]]
They do not answer, though. They continue repeating the same numbers over and over, their mutterings growing shakier, as if they are scared, as if they are on the verge of crying or running out of air.
[[Write down the numbers]]
[[Ask the person again.]]... Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong! ...
You stand up. You walk around the office. You sit down, burried in your thoughts. There must be some more evidence.
... Dong! Dong! ...
Just as your thoughts start organize themselves, you feel something pulling you back...
[[Dong...->end]]... Dong!
The sound of the nearby bell still filling your ears, you find yourself back in the warmth of your blanket. The soft sheets and the sound of rain behind the window tell you the one and important thing. You are back. Whatever happened within those twelve bell strokes will remain a mystery. ... Dong! Dong! ...
After listenning again you seem to recognize the pattern of sounds behind the persons speaker. Just as your memory draws a recognizable image, you feel something pulling you back...
[[Dong...->end]]
↶↷Dong! Dong! ...
The sound of a nearby bell ringing out fills your ears, jolting you awake from your deep sleep. You find yourself waking up on something wet and thick and... soft? How did you get here? Why are you here? Why are you not surrounded by the warmth of your blanket, why do you not feel the softness of your sheets?
The sound of rain invades your ears and as you lay there, recovering from being jolted awake, you begin to take in the scene around you - a graveyard. You awoke in the middle of a graveyard, your clothes wet and stained with mud.
With a pain-filled groan and a cuss, you stand up and look around. So many graves. So many people. Darkness. Rain. Wetness.
As you glance around, you notice something.. bizarre. There is a grave in front of you, in the shape of a cross. As you squint your eyes, focusing on the name on the grave and the date of death, it reads - Godot Wright, 10. 08. 2024.
A chill runs down your spine. The name seems oddly familiar, just where did you hear it before? As you keep staring, you feel a strong urge to reach out and trace the smooth, wet stone with your fingers...
Give in to the urge
Resist the urge