Day 103

The room is filled with paper.
The smell of decay and ink fills the air.
The inhabitant of the room is nowhere to be found.

You go inside.

He was supposed to be here, this isn't going to plan.
You try phoning your contact, no signal.
Great.

Using your mobile's light you examine the dim room.

None of the papers make sense.
All of them keep referencing this book you've never heard of.
Everything cites it as a source, pages and paragraphs copied
onto yellowing paper.

The ceiling light flickers, not that its a decent light source.
You wonder how anyone could work here, let alone live here.
Another ten minutes should be enough.
At least then you can say you tried.

You spend this time trying to peer out of the grimy windows
after spending a few minutes struggling to open the heavy curtains.
The fabric feels... hairy?
Must be some kind of leather, you shine your phone-light on them.
It looks a lot like the leather you get that's tanned black and still furry.
Seems a bit patched too.

You reckon your contact must have been sort of rich to afford it.
Doesn't explain the stench here though.

After ten minutes have officially been and gone you phone your contact
one last time just in case.
You hear a phone ring in a nearby room.
Following the sound brings you to a locked door.

The stench of decay is nearly overwhelming here.
The blue carpet around the door is stained dark brown.
You bang on wood loudly and announce yourself.
You say you've been waiting, how dare he beg you to meet him
and then waste your time.

You go to knock again and as your fist violently meets the door
it swings open.
You are almost blown back by the powerful odour.
You are certainly blown away by the site.

Partially skinned bodies hanging from hooks on the walls, blood overflowing metal
buckets on the floor and staining the large table at the room's centre.
You see racks at the far end with skin hanging over them.
In one corner is a pile of black, furry material that you recognise.
You saw the matching set in the last room.