Issue 1 Downtime

Steve woke up in the middle of the night, disoriented on the floor.

Wh-where...

This was not his room. Panic began to rise before he remembered. He was in Miss Weaver's room. His own was... too dangerous. He felt a pressure in his bladder, and so got up and went to the small bathroom to relieve himself.

Afterwards, he washed his hands in the sink and paused to examine his reflection.

Did something move behind him in the mirror? No, just a shadow. And tired eyes. And nothing lurking behind the shower curtains either because keeping them close had just made Nailah paranoid every time she had come in here. So really, all that's looking back at Steve is his reflection.

But did something just creak in the room? Probably just Nailah shifting in her sleep.

Steve jumped slightly but shook off the feeling. Not everything here meant danger, right? But he still exited the bathroom cautiously.

The first thing he'd see would be Nailah sitting on the edge of the bed, inside the rectangle of light shining from the bathroom, blankly staring through Steve.

The second probably the fact that her head is missing from slightly above the eyebrows upwards.

The third thing is not really something he sees directly. More a sudden movement as something suddenly jerks away and seems to withdraw into the shadow Nailah is casting onto the bed. It wouldn't even be noticeable but there's a slithering movement and a faint sizzling sound coming from the restless shadow.

Steve froze.

Oh God...

What had they done to her? And what had just moved?

Whatever it was was still moving, try to slide up and arm (or some kind of appendage) behind Nailah and reach for the back of her neck, careful to stay out of the light.

He reached out nervously and felt around for the wall switch for the room. There was one near the tiny entrance hall... right?

There was. And with a flick of it the room filled with light and the living shadow that had been hiding in Nailah's disappears into thin air with nowhere to slip away to.

He slowly moved closer.

"...Miss Weaver?" he asked nervously. He knew she wouldn't answer.

And she didn't. Though he'd notice that he could look into her head. It's not empty but there's not exactly a brain there either. Books and figures and switches and all kinds of things that really shouldn't have enough room to be in there.

"... the hell?" he muttered as he looked.

Did that thing... open her?

The thought lead him to look where it had been.

Nothing. Well, no sign of the thing anyway. But what is there is the thin metal rod sticking out of Nailah's neck, ending in a bow that looks like the cross-section of a head.

"Another key?" he blinked.

Do I... well I can't leave her like... this.

He carefully turned the key.

Her head closes (and even if he looked he couldn't quite say how) and the key pops out of her neck. The key-hole remains though and she doesn't seem to wake up.

He frowned and moved back around front.

"Miss Weaver?" he asked before snapping a finger.

No reaction.

"Please... please wake up..." he pleaded, beginning to panic.

He choked the fear down checked out the hole again. Maybe he missed something.

Still a keyhole. In a place where one really shouldn't be, but there it is.

A horrible thought occurred to him. What if it... took something, some integral part of her?

He looked on the bed hopefully. It left the key after all.

There was. It's a ring. Or it would be if it had a little more detail. Like this it almost looks more like a crude drawing of one.

He blinked at the ring,

This is such a bad idea, but what else is there to try?

He slid the key back in and turned it.

Her head opens up, revealing the same view as earlier. Taking a closer look he'd notice a couple blank areas with only frayed remains or crude sketches filling in for what should be there. There's a stick figure that somehow still manages to look imposing, a church that looks like it was drawn by a 4 year-old, then a couple more recent things like the hotel that is taking up a sizeable chunk on one side. Next to it a figure with curly red hair is scrawled on the wall. She's holding a hammer and where her hands would be has been scribbled over with red crayon. In front of it a much more realistic looking version of Miss McManus is standing, frowning at the drawing. And so it goes on. Most of it seems rather quiet, but in one corner a small effigy of Nailah is sitting in front of an open book, half of one page filled, the rest empty.

For some crazy reason, he squinted to attempt to read the tiny book.

Wish I could unstrike that...

He considered where to put the ring.

Anywhere he'd try to put it would be room. There doesn't seem to be a strict filing system at work here.

He prayed and picked up the ring as if it were cracked glass, half-expecting to see her memories when he touched it.

Nothing. It was just a ring. Well it felt a little rough, but that's because it not quite done somehow.

He carefully and curiously looked for an inscription.

There's something, but it's all scratched and rubbed away.

As carefully as a kid playing Operation, he slowly put the ring back where he assumed it belonged and jerked his hand back out.

It seemed to settle in just fine. Meanwhile the little ScribeNailah seems to have found her quill and walks back towards the open book.

He prayed he was right, and took one last look at the... the somehow imposing stick figure caught his eye. He shivered and without realizing it, had reached out to touch it.

The little ScribeNailah reached the book and sat down again.


"Wh-what the hell are you d-doing!?" Nailah suddenly snapped back to life, staring into her own head from next to Steve.

He jerked back, startled.

"OhthankGodIcamebackfromthebathroomand..." He breathed out. "Some thing had... opened you. I had to fix you..."

"What? Fix me? You... you're poking around inside my head!? How is that even possible!" she scrambles away from Steve on the bed, head still gapingly open.

"You weren't moving! I had to do something!" he responded pleadingly. "And there's a key in your neck... turn it and you'll... you'll be okay."

"What!?" She grasps around the back of her neck until her fingers find the key. Fumbling around she manages to lock her head again and pull it out. She holds it like you'd hold a dead rat or something equally disgusting, looking at it. "How..."

"I don't know..." he said. Then his eyes widened as he realized something.

"What now?" she asks, almost not wanting to.