RETURN NaviDream

|___NaviDream-System___|



[Welcome to the NaviDream System. Please select a memory from the inserted disc.]
[LOADED MEMORY: 'SHELL', XX/XX/21, 1:45AM]

[SHELL IS IN HIS ROOM. SHELL IS AT HIS COMPUTER. SHELL IS SITTING ON HIS CHAIR.]

Home alone. Flesh Angel is out on another mission in hell, purging some kind of demons.
I don't know, she doesn't really say much if I don't actually ask her... or talk in general.
It feels weird, carrying the conversation. I used to practically be mute before she saved me.

[FOOTSTEPS IN LIVING ROOM.]

...?
She's already back? She just left a few hours ago.

[SHELL SITS UP. SHELL WALKS OUTSIDE OF THE ROOM. SHELL IS IN THE LIVING ROOM.]

.....?
The TV is on.

[SHELL LOOKS AT THE TV. STATIC IS ON THE SCREEN. IT IS CURRENTLY HOOKED UP TO THE BASEMENT
UNDERGROUND CCTV NETWORK. SHELL TURNS THE TV OFF.]

There's nobody here. Is Centipede Girl here again? No, she's in the basement.
...
It's nothing. Back to the internet.

[SHELL LEAVES THE LIVING ROOM. SHELL FEELS A CHILL. SHELL SHIVERS. SHELL SITS DOWN AT THE
COMPUTER.]

What was I doing? Right... nothing at all. I should really get a hobby. Something productive.
...
Nah.

[A ENTERTAINMENT PROGRAM IS OPENED. SHELL IS FOCUSED ON THE COMPUTER. SHELL IS NOT FOCUSED ON
THE FIGURE IN HIS DOORWAY.]

I wish I still had friends to go out with. Or at least play games with. Though, the last one
I had made tried to sacrifice me in some fucked up ritual. I met Flesh Angel through that
though so I can't completely write it off as a horrible experience.

[SOUND COMES FROM SPEAKERS. SHELL GLANCES AT DIGITAL ALARM CLOCK. ENTERTAINMENT PROGRAM IS CLOSED.]

It's late. She'll probably be back by morning... or longer. I can never tell how long these missions
of hers take. I should try getting on the grill again... she always looks so happy when I actually
make her meals.

[SHELL TURNS AROUND. SHELL LOOKS AT THE DOORWAY. SHELL MOUNTS THE BED. SHELL IS COVERED WITH FABRIC.]

Though, she'd be just as happy with me ordering the damn junk food in too. I suppose it's the thought
that counts?

...
...
...

[SHELL IS UNCONSCIOUS. FIGURE IS IN THE DOORWAY. 30 MINUTES FORWARD. FIGURE TAKES A STEP IN THE ROOM.]

[FIGURE STANDS 4 FEET FROM BED. SHELL IS CONSCIOUS. FOOTSTEPS IN HALLWAY. SHELL'S EYES ARE OPEN. SHELL
LOOKS AT THE DOORWAY.]

...!?
I'm covered in sweat. It's the footsteps again. There has to be SOMETHING in here with me.

[SHELL FACIAL EXPRESSION: FEAR. SHELL DISMOUNTS BED. SHELL WALKS TOWARDS DOORWAY WITH MINIMAL SPEED.]

Need to turn on the light in here. There is no fucking way I'm going out into the hall in darkness.


[VISUAL FEED AVAILABLE]