a

Even from the comfort of your office, the humidity coming from outside can't help but creep its way inside. You can feel sweat start to swell up your shirt and stick to your skin. It's moments like these that you wish you could afford a fan that didn't spark and sputter to a brief moment of life. One of your many vices are calling you from inside your [[desk|Desk]] with the promise of a short reprieve from the heat of a late August day.

The top of the desk is a cluttered mess of papers, most of them bills long overdue. There is also the lamp on the corner pointed directly at your [[notebook|Notebook]]. But you put certain things in the drawers for a reason. You recall that you left your [[cigarettes|Cigarettes]] in the top drawer next to your pistol. There was also the bottle of [[bourbon|Bourbon]] that sat in the bottom right drawer. Just then, you hear a knock on the door followed by a flighty voice, one of better repute than would normally find themselves your way, "Mister Derrickson? Are you there, Mister Derrickson?" You respond, "Yeah, come on [[in|Meeting Mrs Pendergast]]."

You flip through the pages of the notebook, checking the dates at the top. The last page reads: April 11, 1958 Sarah came by the office today to collect the last of her things. I would have felt sad about never seeing her again if not for the fact I was nursing my hand from the night before, courtesy of Delilah Coleman's husband... soon to be ex-husband. Sarah said something about how she was sorry about what happened but I was too deep into Old Irish to pay attention. It felt like pity, anyway. Hard to believe that it was only four months ago, you [[thought|Desk]].

The last pack of Lucky Strike in the office, sitting there ever since the divorce was finalized. Occasionally, you feel the call of the nicotine beckoning to be inhaled. Quitting cold turkey might have been one of the worst mistakes in a long line of many mistakes in your life, but fighting through the [[craving|Desk]] is the key.

The classic bottle of Old Irish and a pair of glasses resting next to it. The glasses had been gathering dust for so long since there hadn't been any good reason to pull out the fancy booze. There was no desire to finish it off as the price of the brand made it too expensive to [[replace|Desk]].

The door opens and an older woman walks in. Her [[appearance|Mrs Pendergast]] fit the tone of her voice nicely. She says right away, "No wonder you came recommended to me, this place looks like living, breathing desperation. Especially here." The woman is staring at the secretary's desk and runs a finger along its surface. The tip of her finger is covered with years of dust buildup but she still says more, "And look at the place you keep your turtle in. If this is how you take care of your pets..." You look towards the desk and look at Layla's [[aquarium|Pet Turtle]], "I don't think Layla would like you talking about her home like that, miss... What's your name, ma'am?" She finds her way to your desk and sits down, "It is Missis Helen Pendergast." You respond, "Well, nice to meet you, Mrs. Pendergast. Morgan Derrickson... but you probably already know who I am." "Of course. I do not come to this part of town if there is a chance I could get mugged or worse. And while your decorum leaves much to be desired, you came highly recommended." "I do, huh? I hope I get to meet these people someday [[then|Intro of Case]]."

There was a garishness to Helen Pendergast. Also an audacity of sorts to wear a black dress that nearly covered up her figure. The skin that she allowed to be seen were from the collar that clung tightly to her neck and above, with the teasing of her ankles and high heels from below. As a contrast, she adorned a white fur shawl adorned with a diamond brooch held tightly by her gloved hands. Yet she only had on a pair of round, oversized sunglasses as an accessory for her face. Perhaps that was going too far for a meeting like this? At least she could show off her hairstyle that felt more appropriate thirty years ago. This woman clearly comes has more money than one would know what to do with and with it, she has attempted to build up her image as a goddess to the world. It is a shame in her eyes that she has to come to the slums for assistance of any kind but at least she gets to show off how much better [[she|Meeting Mrs Pendergast]] is any anyone else.

Like her namesake, your pet turtle Layla spends her days sitting on top of the secretary's desk. The makeshift aquarium was a gift from a client years back after his fish perished due to unfortunate circumstances. Aside from the algae buildup, you manage to take good care of Layla and making sure her life is worry free. It was the least you could do since she was your longest tenured employee.

You then get to the point of this conversation, "So, what brings you my way, Mrs. Pendergast?" Mrs. Pendergast opens her small purse and pulls out a [[photograph|Photograph]]. "It is my son, Mister Derrickson. He has been missing for the past few weeks and nothing I have been able to do has helped me find him. The police have been useless and any other private investigator I met has laughed me out the door. The heathens, the lot of them." {(if: $photo is true)[Carefully looking at the photograph, you could understand where the other people were coming from. Mrs. Pendergast did appear to come from wealth. The wealth possibly might have been used as a veil for something sinister hiding behind the posh visage. Some [[questioning|Questioning A]] could be in order. ] (else:)[At least on the part with the cops, you could agree with her. Some of them have been the scummiest refuse you've ever had the pleasure of knowing. But there had to be more to this case to scare off some bad apples, you think, and you start to [[ask|Questioning B]] her more about it.]}

{(set: $photo to true) The photograph looks to be at least twenty years old, judging from the discoloration and degredation of the picture. They boy himself looks to have been a very normal child, albiet one that had the luxury to grow up in wealth.} It came to question how old was this boy now. Possibly in his late twenties, early thirties. He must have been really close to his mother if she is this worried about him. And what about the father? There's more to [[this|Intro of Case]] than initially revealed.

(set: $photo to false) (set: $note to false) (set: $accept to false) (set: $neil to false) (set: $location1 to false) (set: $location2 to false) (set: $bullets to "six") (set: $wallet to true) (set: $charlie to true)

"So that boy in the photo is yours, right?" "Of course, Mister Derrickson..." "Ma'am, it'd be easier if you just called me Morgan from here on in," you say, interrupting her response. If you were going to take this case, removing the formalities felt like the best option. She didn't seem to bother and continued on, "As I was saying, MISTER DERRICKSON, that boy in the photograph is my poor son, Charlie. It is a shame that might be the only way I may look at him again... you see, the wops and the spics and the negros that rioted all over my home at Glenwood Estates left little of my possessions in the aftermath. The dirty, filthy slop of the world, those degenerates. How do you put up with them, Mister Derrickson? You must come from good Irish Catholic stock with that last name." It took a moment to comprehend the bit of racial commentary she just spoke out loud. While you could take or leave the Italians, the others felt off in a way. You respond, "Well, the Irish part is correct, Mrs. Pendergast," hoping to get the conversation back on track. "So you used to live in [[Glenwood|Questioning A2]]?"

"So that boy in the photo is yours, right?" "Of course, Mister Derrickson..." "I'll assume that the photograph wasn't taken recently, ma'am?" "Of course not," she says. "That is the only photograph I have of my poor son Charlie after the riots." You think about what riots she was talking about and ask her, "The riots over at Glenwood Estates? You used to live there?" "Yes, I did," Mrs. Pendergast says, "A beautiful slice of the world, Glenwood Estates. At least it was before the Russians bombed a third of the Midwest and the rats left over burrowed their way here. Stole most of my valuables: the dresses, the china, and the silk drapes that were imported here only two months before." "And the photo albums too?" "The photo albums too. God damn filthy wops and spics and negros took off with [[everything|Questioning B2]]."

"Yes, I did," Mrs. Pendergast says, "A beautiful slice of the world, Glenwood Estates. At least it was before the Russians bombed a third of the Midwest and the rats left over burrowed their way here. Stole most of my valuables: the dresses, the china, and the silk drapes that were imported here only two months before." "And it was during the riots that your son disappeared, I assume?" You are writing notes in your notebook with a dull pencil that is on the verge of breaking. And only some of the notes are productive to the case. "Of course. I left there before any of those hooligans could lay their greasy hands on me and realized on the ride to my cottage thirty miles from here that Charlie was not with me. He was usually a good boy and would protect me in case any dangerous men would come my way. I sent one of my men... I think his name was Bill or Roger... no matter, I sent him to the ruins to see if Charlie was there and he was not to be found." You ask, "May I meet this fella? Who knows how much has changed there since he was there?" She says, "Out of the question, Mister Derrickson. He saw nothing. I do not think that he will help you in your investigation in any way." That kind of rejection only fueled the suspicion about the case you were developing since the lady shoved her way into your office. You start thinking about rejecting the case as it might be more trouble than it's worth. "In that case, Helen," you say, hoping to annoy her by calling her by her first name, "I am going to have to think about this for at least a day or two. How about I give you a [[call|Offer A]] in..."

Mrs. Pendergast stands up from the chair and begins to cry. "Oh, Mister Derrickson," she says, "I did not think you were like the others, especially since you came highly recommended. I cannot take another rejection, let alone another night not knowing if my Charlie is out there alive or dead." She opens her purse and pulls out a piece of notarized paper, writing down something on it. "I am prepared to pay you handsomly for your troubles. Is this more than sufficient for you to reconsider?" {(if: $note is false)[The [[note|Note]] slides its way to your side of the desk.] (if: $note is true)[The note sits there on the desk and you are tempted to accept the offer written on it.]} {(if: $note is false)[It takes all of your mettle to ignore the paper. Any offer these days would be more than welcome but the sour taste the case brings isn't going to be washed [[away|Reject Offer B]] by a couple of bills or a check anytime soon. But then again, any money is good [[money|Accept Offer B]] at this point.] (if: $note is true)[While it is a large sum of cash, it is a wonder if you are going to end up running a devil's [[errand|Reject Offer A]] to get it. If that's the case, is the price worth your [[soul|Accept Offer A]]?]}

{(set: $note to true) You flip up the piece of paper and look at the number written upon it. You are aghast at the amount she seems to be willing to throw at you. It feels like something way too good to be true and there mainly to distract from further questioning. But money is money, after [[all|Offer A]].}

"I don't know, Helen. This case feels a little off to me. I don't know if I can accept at the moment." Mrs. Pendergast starts getting ready to leave and says, "I understand, Mister Derrickson. I do hope that you reconsider, though. My son might not have much longer to live out there." She hands you a card with her phone number on it, not letting you get away that easily. You tell her, "Okay, ma'am. I'll think about it and call you if I decide to change my mind." She leaves the office and with it, the overwhelming humidity from earlier dies down. You look outside the window and catch the sun starting to descend below the horizon, clutching the note you had not looked at, afraid of what price your services were worth to that poor woman. Despite the weather being more suitable to walk around in, you felt the need to escape from the office for a while. You take your coat off from the hook and start to leave. Before that, you say to Layla, "I'll be back in an hour or two, girl." You shut the door and head your way to [[Flannigan's|End Part 1]] Pub.

{(set: $accept to true) Without looking at the note, you say, "I'll look for your son, ma'am."} Mrs. Pendergast smiles, yet not enough to show off her teeth which one would assume to be either pristine white naturally or through a pair of dentures. "You cannot believe how happy you just made me, Mister Derrickson. Here is a check that is what I think feels sufficient, at least for an advance. I shall assume that I am correct?" When she finishes writing the check, she slides it along your desk. You grab a hold of the check and see that she has already grabbed the piece of paper from before, crumpling it into a ball before throwing it into her purse. You take a look at the check, hiding your excitement at the amount Mrs. Pendergast is willing to give you for an advance. You say, "Yeah... this should be more than sufficient. Thank you very much. "I am glad to hear it, Mister Derrickson. I hope I will hear from you again soon, and with good news about my son." Mrs. Pendergast gathers herself and leaves the office. The humidity from earlier has died down as the sun starts to descend below the horizon. "Hot damn!" you say out loud. "This calls for celebration." You gather your coat from the hook by the door and get ready to leave. Before you leave, you say to Layla, "I'll be back in an hour or two, girl. Keep an eye out for any strangers, okay?" You shut the door and head your way to [[Flannigan's|End Part 1]] Pub.

"This is a mighty fine offer, Mrs. Pendergast. But I'm not sure I am the right person to take on your case, to be honest." Mrs. Pendergast starts getting ready to leave and says, "I understand, Mister Derrickson. I do hope that you reconsider, though. My son might not have much longer to live out there." She hands you a card with her phone number on it, not letting you get away that easily. "Don't worry, ma'am. If I reconsider, I won't hesitate to call." She leaves the office and with it, the overwhelming humidity from earlier dies down. You look outside the window and catch the sun starting to descend below the horizon. Despite the weather being more suitable to walk around in, you felt the need to escape from the office for a while. You take your coat off from the hook and start to leave. Before that, you say to Layla, "I'll be back in an hour or two, girl." You shut the door and head your way to [[Flannigan's|End Part 1]] Pub.

{(set: $accept to true) "It is a handsome offer, ma'am. I guess I have no other choice but to take you up on it."} Mrs. Pendergast smiles a bit, but not enough to show off her teeth which one would assume would either be pristine white naturally or through a pair of dentures. "Well, thank you, Mister Derrickson." She starts writing a check out. "Here is twenty percent. That should more than cover any expenses you may have soon. The rest will come when you find my Charlie." She hands you the check and while it was just an ordinary piece of paper, the weight of the value it contains felt like a brick of solid gold. "Pleasure doing business with you, Helen. I will call you when I find out anything substantial." Mrs. Pendergast gathers herself and leaves the office. The humidity from earlier has died down as the sun starts to descend below the horizon. "Hot damn!" you say out loud. "This calls for celebration." You gather your coat from the hook by the door and get ready to leave. Before you leave, you say to Layla, "I'll be back in an hour or two, girl. Keep an eye out for any strangers, okay?" You shut the door and head your way to [[Flannigan's|End Part 1]] Pub.

"Okay, Mrs. Pendergast. Was your son over at Glenwood Estates during the riots?" You are taking notes with a dull pencil on the verge of breaking apart. As well, only some of the notes are productive to the case. "Sadly, he was. I left there before any of those hooligans could lay their greasy hands on me and realized on the ride to my cottage thirty miles from here that Charlie was not with me. He was usually a good boy and would protect me in case any dangerous men would come my way." "Well... I think that about covers it," you say. It felt like you were cutting the questioning short but a case like this could be easy [[money|Accept Offer C]], regardless if you find the poor boy.

{(set: $accept to true) "I'll take your offer, ma'am."} Mrs. Pendergast smiles and you can see the brightest looking set of teeth you have ever seen, almost too good a pair of pearly whites. That is what coming from money can get you, you think. She says, "Wonderful, Mister Derrickson. After all the police and other investigators, I did not think that you would be so willing to take my case..." She looks around the office some more before continuing, "Well, I guess I should not have been too pessimistic about my chances." While you did feel personally insulted by her comment aimed towards the upkeep of your office, you remember that these trying times don't let you afford to be picky about the people you take in. "Well, I'm glad I can be of service. So how much money is this job worth to you?" Right when you finished asking about money, Mrs. Pendergast had already written you out a check. "This shall be your advance. I assume this will be more than sufficient with any expenses you may have during the investigation?" She hands you the check and you stare at the amount intensely. It was more money at once than you have ever seen before, at least in a legal transation. Suddenly, the weight of the case overwhelms you, but not enough to turn away the money now, "This is more than sufficent, Mrs. Pendergast. Pleasure doing business with you." "Likewise, Mister Derrickson. Please do not hesitate to call if you find anything." Mrs. Pendergast gathers herself and leaves the office. The humidity from earlier has died down as the sun starts to descend below the horizon. "This calls for celebration," you say. You gather your coat from the hook by the door and get ready to leave. Before you leave, you say to Layla, "I'll be back in an hour or two, girl. Keep an eye out for any strangers, okay?" You shut the door and head your way to [[Flannigan's|End Part 1]] Pub.

The stench of beer and other various alcoholic beverages pours out of Flannigan's when you open the door. The crowd is bustling with dock workers having just clocked out for the day. Despite how boorish the company may be, the respect you hold for those people in that line of work is held on high ground. At the very least, it feels like you can share a drink with Henry and your pop once in a while. You find an empty seat by the bar and start heading towards it, narrowly avoiding the pile of vomit on the floor. The bartender is pouring out mugs with lightning speed as if the voracious thirsts of the patrons shall never be quenched. You wave your hand up to signal that there is another one to add to the endless stream. Soon after, a row of glasses slide down the bar and you grab a hold of the last one to pass by. You take a sip and notice that it tastes incredibly watered down, that it barely should qualify as alcoholic. But with all the possibilites of roughhousing among dozens of burly men, it might be for the best that they lose their sobriety at a calm pace. Sitting all alone, you can't help but listen to the conversations going on around you. To your left, an arm wrestling contest has begun with a giant of a man appropriately nicknamed "Ox" against a short, greenhorned fellow named Billy. Despite the obvious advantage Ox had, Billy was putting up quite a fight. The strain on his face caused it to boil red and yet he had little to show for it, as their arms barely moved past the starting point. Eventually, Ox swung down with one motion and pinned Billy's arm on the counter in victory. No ill will was shared between the two and you held up your glass in celebration of good, clean [[fun|Flannigan's A2]].

(live: 2s) (if: $accept is true)[(goto: "Flannigan's A")] (if: $accept is false)[(goto: "Flannigan's B")]

The stench of beer and other various alcoholic beverages pours out of Flannigan's when you open the door. The crowd is bustling with dock workers having just clocked out for the day. Despite how boorish the company may be, the respect you hold for those people in that line of work is held on high ground. At the very least, it feels like you can share a drink with Henry and your pop once in a while. You find an empty seat by the bar and start heading towards it, narrowly avoiding the pile of vomit on the floor. The bartender is pouring out mugs with lightning speed as if the voracious thirsts of the patrons shall never be quenched. You wave your hand up to signal that there is another one to add to the endless stream. Soon after, a row of glasses slide down the bar and you grab a hold of the last one to pass by. You take a sip and notice that it tastes incredibly watered down, that it barely should qualify as alcoholic. But with all the possibilites of roughhousing among dozens of burly men, it might be for the best that they lose their sobriety at a calm pace. Sitting all alone, you can't help but listen to the various amounts of banter scattered throughout the place. Most of it was the workers complaining to one another about their pay, but there was one that briefly caught your attention between a couple who picked the wrong place to go to on a Friday night. As much as it felt wrong to listen in on the conversation, you couldn't help but [[listen|Couple]].

Just then, the door opens up and a well dressed man enters the bar. He walks up towards the empty seat next to you, stepping on the pile of vomit you managed to avoid. "Ah, jesus fuckin' christ," the well dressed man says, "I just got these shoes and now they smell like fuckin' barf." The man sits down next to you and motions to the bartender for a beer, "Busy night. Ain't it, Morgan?" "It's Friday, Neil. What kind of night did you think it was gonna be?" You take another sip of beer and start spinning the glass around, avoiding eye contact with Neil. Neil says, "Yah, I guess yer right. So why don't ya tell me what we're celebratin' tonight?" While it did catch you off guard at first that Neil asked you that, you remembered that despite your current lifestyle, you tended to be a creature of habit in these matters, "If you must know, Neil, I got my first case in nearly four months. Some poor old bat looking for her invalid son, I think." "Ya took the Pendergast case? I knew ya'd go for that! Guess it is as good a reason to celebrate as any." Neil chugs down his beer while you say, "Of course it was you who recommended my services to her. Feeling some sort of pity for me after what happened with Sarah? This your olive [[branch|Flannigan's A3]]?"

Neil slams the glass down, with a trickle of beer falling down his chin. "When ya put it that way, makes me feel like I think less of ya. Didn't think ya'd still be mad o'er what happened with Sarah." It was true that you felt no anger towards Neil over what happened. It was not worth throwing away a friendship over a woman whom things were never going to work out with anyway. "Don't worry about her, Neil," you say. "I don't know what I was expecting from a single woman I met at Mardi Gras. That sort of thing was bound to happen, I guess." You then ask Neil, "So why did you turn down the Pendergast woman? Can't only be cause you feel sorry for me." Another glass slides Neil's way and he grabs a hold of it without breaking the flow of the conversation. "Somethin' felt off 'bout the case. Older woman, that photo of her son bein' the only one she got, Glenwood Estates bein' shady as all 'ell. It didn't seem like nothin' good would come of it." "And you threw her my way. Gotcha." You pull out the check Mrs. Pendergast wrote out to you and show it to Neil, "You did miss out on a pretty penny, though." Neil looks at the number on the paycheck and spits out some beer on the counter, the bartender looking towards us in anger. Another spill he would have to worry about. "Fuckin' 'ell," Neil says. "That broad must be really desperate to find her boy. Now I feel bad sendin' her yer way." {(if: $note is true)["If it makes you feel better, that's only [[twenty|Neil Offer A]] percent."] (if: $note is false)["That's only the advance, too. If I had been more patient, I think she might have given me more [[money|Neil Offer B]]."]}

"Fuck, Morgan. You'd be set for life with that kind of dough. Of course, since I sent her yer way, I think I should get a cut of that." "Why? I should pay you for sending some crazy rich lady my way without knowing how much she'd pay out?" "It was out of the kindness of my heart," Neil says while finishing another beer. "I mean, I coulda taken on her case and where would that leave you? Drinkin' on the last of that Old Irish I know you still got hidin' in yer desk, hopin' that some girl will call ya for an old one-two on her old man, I bet." Despite the brash nature of the man, Neil always knew the right words to poke at you. "Okay, stop kicking me in the balls and at least tell me how you plan to help." "So, 'bout two weeks ago, I met this man. Can't remember his name, only that he was Jewish. He came to my office asking to find some lost heirloom of his and like the Pendergast broad, he used to live at Glenwood..." You start to put two and two together and say, "So you know about the place already and want to give me directions to Mrs. Pendergast's home? Why can't I do that by myself?" "Look, Morgan," Neil says while throwing his glass on the counter, nearly shattering it, "Glenwood is all kinds of fucked up. The filth that live there now... one of my best men got shanked, had to be in surgery for hours. It's partially money I'm after, but I still care about ya. After all, yer no good to me dead." While it was nice that Neil cared enough to offer to help, you don't think Glenwood can be as bad as he says it is. It could be an excuse to get some money out of this deal. It all depends on if you [[trust|Accept Neil A]] your old friend or [[not|Reject Neil A]].

"What makes ya think you coulda gotten more than THAT?" Neil looked even more alert, although he may be been surprised that the offer might have been lowballing for someone of Mrs. Pendergast's wealth. {(if: $photo is true)[You mention the piece of paper that she wrote down her initial offer in, "I probably should have given it a look before I said yes.] (if: $photo is false)["I didn't press her all that much when I was questioning her," you say. "I just felt the need to take any offers I could get at this point."]} {(if: $photo is true)[Neil responds, "Probably ya should have, but maybe if the offer was a lot larger, probably woulda seemed to be a lot more suspicious. She did act a little batty when I met 'er."] (if: $photo is false)["Four months ain't that long, Morgan," Neil says. "And it's not like you have much to worry about since you live in your office these days."]} The two of your sit and drink for a little while longer. It gives you some time to ponder about what you could do with the money. Get the office cleaned up, maybe a better aquarium for Layla, possibly hire another [[secretary|First Wife]]...

{(set: $neil to true) You say, "It'll be the first time we've worked together since you slept with Sarah. Let's hope it doesn't get awkward." You finish off another beer and look at Neil, laughing.} "Jesus, Morgan," Neil says. "Ya almost made me think ya were still upset over what happened." "I still am, Neil. I just accepted that it was never going to work out anyway. So no hard feelings." "Well, now that this partnership is back, I think we should talk about my cut. I think it should be about thirty percent should be fine." You cough a little after he names his price, "Thirty percent? Are you serious? Well this information you have for me better be worth it." "At this rate, given how much costs fuckin' Glenwood have stacked up on me already, I could try and ask ya for fourty and feel that would be fair on my end." Neil gets up from the bar and grabs his wallet, "And hey, at least this round is on me." He tosses some money down, enough to cover both of your tabs. "Thanks." Neil heads towards the door, avoiding the pile of vomit that still had yet to be cleaned up. "I should have yer info 'bout Glenwood sometime tomorrow. Best of luck on finding the boy." He waves goodbye and leaves the bar. You wave back and twirl your empty glass around. The crowd from earlier has died down a bit, leaving you a moment to think about things. You don't know exactly what you've gotten yourself into but at least there is a nice paycheck waiting for you at the end of this road, regardless of the status of the boy. You get up and get ready to leave Flannigan's, knowing that the moment Neil's notes arrive tomorrow, the case will officially [[begin|End Part 2]]...

Trust is hard to come by and even though you and Sarah were never going to last, the affair still affected you so you tell Neil, "I think I'm good, Neil. I can keep myself from getting killed just fine." Neil responds, "Ya think so, is that right? Look, if this is about me and Sarah..." "It isn't, Neil. I just want to move past it right now, okay. And besides, if you needed the money so bad, you should have just accepted Helen's offer to being with." Your section of the bar turns quiet, as if the crowd from earlier briefly vanished while waiting for the two of you to finish your last drinks. You finish off yours first and get ready to leave, finding just enough change to pay for your tab. "It was nice talking to you, Neil. Catch you again some other time." "Yah, good seein' ya too, Morgan..." You toss the change on the bar and head towards the exit, avoiding the pile of vomit still yet to be cleaned up. It was going to be an early morning for you as the case would officially begin. And a trip to Glenwood [[Estates|End Part 2]]...

NO! YOU ARE NOT GOING TO HIRE ANOTHER SECRETARY! YOU DON'T NEED ANOTHER WOMAN RUINING YOU LIFE LIKE SHE DID! WHAT HAPPENED WITH SARAH IS PROOF ENOUGH OF THAT! JUST DRINK SOME MORE AND FORGET ABOUT [[L...|Neil Offer B2]]

"Hey, Morgan," Neil says, snapping you back out of your thoughts. "Since I did lead Pendergast to ya, I think maybe I should get a cut of the profits. A finder's fee, if ya will." Still kind of dazed from your inner thoughts, you respond, "Really? I don't know. This feels like you lost your golden goose and want me to give you an egg out of pity." "Shut up, ya arsehole," Neil says. "Where would ya be now if I took the case? Drinkin' on the last of that Old Irish I know you still got hidin' in yer desk, hopin' that some girl will call ya for an old one-two on her old man, I bet." Despite the brash nature of the man, Neil always knew the right words to poke at you. "Okay, maybe you should deserve some of the profits. But you're going to have to actually work for it. Got any ideas?" "Well, if yer gonna go to Glenwood Estates, you are going to need to prepare cause that place is all kinds of fucked up." "Why? Isn't it just full of homeless people these days?" Neil slams his glass on the ground, scaring you into thinking it would break in his hand, "Look. About two weeks ago, some old Jewish man came to my office wanting to find a lost heirloom, and like the Pendergast broad, used to live in Glenwood... One of my best men got shanked, had to be in surgery for hours. I may be an arsehole, but I still care about ya. After all, yer no good to me dead." While it was nice that Neil cared enough to offer to help, you don't think Glenwood can be as bad as he says it is. It could be an excuse to get some money out of this deal. It all depends on if you [[trust|Accept Neil B]] your old friend or [[not|Reject Neil B]].

{(set: $neil to true) You say, "It's nice to hear how much you care about me, Neil. I guess I have no choice but to let you help me out here." "Ya bein' serious, Morgan? I hope you're not just fuckin' with me." "I probably should be," you say. "But I am going by your word that Glenwood is as messed up as you say it is. How does twenty percent of the the final cut sound?" "Nah, gotta be at least thirty. That place has cost me more than any other and from what you showed me, thirty percent should cover it. Besides, one of my guys already did most of the legwork... and might've taken a knife in the gut for ya." You think about it for a moment, questioning whether or not the cost felt justified. Then you remember that the quandary exists in the first place because of Neil so you say, "You drive a hard bargain but by your logic, I can't disagree with the price." "Terrific!" Neil says. "It's a pleasure doin' business with ya again, Morgan. And here." He tosses some money on the counter, "At least this round of drinks is on me." "Thanks." Neil gets up from the bar and heads towards the door, avoiding the pile of vomit that still had yet to be cleaned up. "I should have yer info 'bout Glenwood sometime tomorrow. Best of luck on finding the boy." He waves goodbye and leaves the bar. You wave back and twirl your empty glass around. The crowd from earlier has died down a bit, leaving you a moment to think about things. You don't know exactly what you've gotten yourself into but at least there is a nice paycheck waiting for you at the end of this road, regardless of the status of the boy. You get up and get ready to leave Flannigan's, knowing that the moment Neil's notes arrive tomorrow, the case will officially [[begin|End Part 2]]...

As much as it felt like Neil was telling the truth about the state of Glenwood, the bitterness over what happened with Sarah still lingered in your mind. You say, "I think I'm good, Neil. I can keep myself from getting killed just fine." Neil responds, "Ya sure about that? Look, if yer still mad about Sarah..." "Trust me, it's not. I'm moving past it just fine. And besides, if you need money that badly, you should've accepted Helen's offer to begin with." Your section of the bar turns quiet, as if the crowd from earlier briefly vanished while waiting for the two of you to finish your last drinks. You finish off yours first and get ready to leave, finding just enough change to pay for your tab. "It was nice talking to you, Neil. Catch you again some other time." "Yah, good seein' ya too, Morgan..." You toss the change on the bar and head towards the exit, avoiding the pile of vomit still yet to be cleaned up. It was going to be an early morning for you as the case would officially begin. And a trip to Glenwood [[Estates|End Part 2]]...

(live: 2s) (if: $neil is true)[(goto: "Glenwood Estates A")] (if: $neil is false)[(goto: "Glenwood Estates B")]

It was late afternoon by the time your thirty mile drive ended with the arrival at the remains of Glenwood Estates. A once lavish collection of mansions and bright flora now reduced to a decaying pile of rubble occupied by what Pendergast called "degenerates" - which she might have seen as nice to call them. The [[gates|Glenwood Gates 1]] looked like hell came through and transformed them into a mess of metal and ivy vines. You park your car by the side of the wall and begin taking inventory of your [[supplies|Inventory 1]]. After that, you head inside of Glenwood, stepping above a pile of bricks. You would have been wary of miscellaneous paraphernalia trying to slice through the bottom of your feet if not for the infantryman boots you snagged from an Army Surplus store years ago. At this rate, the boots might outlast you. No jagged edges along the walls either. {(if: $location1 is false)[When you get past the gate rubble, you pull out the notes Neil gave you and try to find where the first [[location|Location 1]] is.] (if: $location1 is true)[You look around for a second and see the house with the scattered remains of lawn ornaments. While your initial scan of the environment makes it appear like a trap, reading the notes made you reconsider.} (if: $location1 is true)[You head through the house, stepping on the broken ceramic and heading into the decaying house. It appeared to be picked clean, even the wallpaper. Thankfully, the notes were still accurate and you made it to the back yard with no worries. While crossing the backyard, you caught glimpses of a couple of people scurrying along a neighboring yard. They might have been triggered by the noises but don't seem to be approaching you. Maybe you [[lucked|Glenwood Estates A2]] out.]

It was late afternoon by the time your thirty mile drive ended with the arrival at the remains of Glenwood Estates. A once lavish collection of mansions and bright flora now reduced to a decaying pile of rubble occupied by what Pendergast called "degenerates" - which she might have seen as nice to call them. The [[gates|Glenwood Gates 2]] looked like hell came through and transformed them into a mess of metal and ivy vines. You park your car by the side of the wall and begin taking inventory of your [[supplies|Inventory 2]]. After that, you head inside of Glenwood, stepping above a pile of bricks. You would have been wary of miscellaneous paraphernalia trying to slice through the bottom of your feet if not for the infantryman boots you snagged from an Army Surplus store years ago. At this rate, the boots might outlast you. No jagged edges along the walls either. Looking around the place, you try and find your bearings among the ruins of extravagent homes and shrubbery growth running rampant. There was a home with the scattered remains of lawn ornaments all over the front. You felt like it might have been a trap so you decide to walk down the closest thing that looked like a road. Eventually, you have to find the Pendergast [[place|Glenwood Estates B2]].

The woman, looking around her mid-twenties, dressed in a dime store evening dress, says, "Why did you bring me here, Billy? There has to be somewhere nicer to be than here." Billy, the older man who was dressed like one of the dock workers, says, "Beer's cheap here, Darlene. Besides, I know everybody here and that way, at least you'll be perfectly safe." After that sentence, a pair of dock workers crashed onto the floor next to their booth. "Yeah, perfectly safe," Darlene says, "A bunch of drunk men stinking like the east bay will be adequate protection from other drunks who want their way with me." "Can't you just have a good time, honey? Here, have a [[drink|Flannigan's B2]]."

Just then, a hand touches your shoulder, snapping you out of your concentration. A familiar voice starts talking to you, "That's not very courteous of ya, eavesdroppin' on that poor couple over there. Anything interesting?" "Nice to see you too, Neil," you say to the voice. "Not much else to latch onto today. But if you must know, she doesn't want to be here. Can't imagine why..." Neil, having already sat down next to you, orders a drink and starts talking to you, "So, what brings ya down here, Morgan. Celebratin'?" While it did catch you off guard at first that Neil asked you that, you remembered that despite your current lifestyle, you tended to be a creature of habit in these matters. "Not exactly," you say. "Some old woman came to the office today and asked me to find her missing son. I ended up turning her down and I'm here today trying to think if I should reconsider." "Ya turned down the Pendergast woman? Can't say I blame ya." Neil chugs down his beer while you say, "Of course it was you who sent her my way. Was that your olive branch to me, hoping I'll forgive you over what happened with [[Sarah|Flannigan's B3]]?"

Neil slams the glass down, with a trickle of beer falling down his chin. "When ya put it that way, makes me feel like I think less of ya. Didn't think ya'd still be mad o'er what happened with Sarah." Despite the kind of betrayal sleeping with your wife was, you held no anger towards Neil. The friendship you had wasn't worth throwing away over a woman whom things weren't going to work out with anyway. "Don't worry about that, Neil," you say. "I don't entirely know what I expected from a girl I met at Mardi Gras." You then ask Neil, "So, why did you turn down the Pendergast woman? Said something felt off about it." Another glass slides Neil's way and he grabs a hold of it without breaking the flow of the conversation. "Exactly. Older woman, that photo of her son bein' the only one she got, Glenwood Estates bein' shady as all 'ell. It didn't seem like nothin' good would come of it." "And you threw her my way. Gotcha. Think I was desperate enough to take the case no matter how I felt about it?" {(if: $note is true)[You pull out the note Mrs. Pendergast gave you and slide it down to Neil, "She was offering quite a lot for my [[efforts|Flannigan's B4]], though."] {(if: $note is false)[You take out the note you still had yet to read, "I still have yet to read how much she was willing to offer me. Might make me think that this might have been a huge [[mistake|Flannigan's B4]]."]

Neil takes a hold of the note and looks at it. The look on his face was one of sheer awe. "Jesus fuck, Morgan. The poor woman really must want her son back cause I don't think I've ever seen that much money before." {(if: $note is true)[You respond, "It's unbelieveable, isn't it? And I turned it all down..."] (if: $note is false)[You take back the note and look at the number, flabbergasted over it, "Holy crap, Neil! Maybe I shouldn't have been too hesitant to take on the lady's case."]} Neil throws the note back your way and says, "Maybe ya should give the lady a call. Tell her ya learned the error of yer ways and reconsider her offer." You question Neil about what he said, "Didn't you say this case felt off? Now you want me to accept it. What's in it for you?" "Ya don't turn down that kind of money, Morgan. And since I sent her yer way, I should get a cut of the profits. But that doesn't matter unless you go and call the old bag!" You sit there, thinking about the case and Neil's insistence that you take it now that there is a large amount of money attached to it. It seems like that is the only thing that matters to him right now. But with how fishy the case feels, who knows where it may lead to. If only you could just flip a coin to decide whether you [[take|Neil Offer C]] the case or [[not|Reject Ending]].

"Fine, I'll give the woman a call and tell her I'm on the case. Didn't think that the case would matter this much to you." "Terrific," Neil says, grabbing a hold of me and shaking me. Some of the beer in my glass spills onto the counter. "So, about my fee..." "Fee for what? From the way I look at it, you gave me the case out of pity and I thank you for that. You're not hemmoraging for money, though. At least compared to me." "I did send the case yer way and possibly, ya will need my help." Neil leans in closer to you and continues, "You won't believe how fucked up Glenwood Estates is nowadays." You pull youself away from him and say, "Really? How much so?" Neil then starts talking about a previous case, "So, 'bout two weeks ago, I met this man. Can't remember his name, only that he was Jewish. He came to my office asking to find some lost heirloom of his and like the Pendergast broad, he used to live at Glenwood..." "So I'm assuming you know your way around the place, but that's not really worth a fee of any kind." "Look, Morgan," Neil says after chugging a beer and throwing his glass on the counter, nearly shattering it, "One of my best men got shanked there, had to be in surgery for hours. It's partially money I'm after, but I still care about ya. After all, yer no good to me dead." Neil seemed to really be pushing you more and more the longer the conversation went along, as if money was all the man was after. Not only did he fool around with your wife, but he was trying to take money that he tossed your way without a second thought. While he could have been [[genuine|Accept Neil C]] in his statement regarding the state of Glenwood, there was the lingering feeling of distrust that made you want to turn his [[offer|Reject Neil C]] down.

"Sorry, Neil. I don't feel right about this. Clearly, anyone with that much money to burn clearly is hiding something." You hand Neil the card and say, "If you are hurting for money so bad, why don't you give her a call?" Neil then says, "If that's what ya want, Morgan, fine. But don't expect a cut of the profits." He pauses for a moment before continuing, "... well, maybe I can give ya at least ten percent. It's the least I can do after what happened with Sarah." You think how that was actually the least Neil could do, but then remember how he did try and make peace with you by giving you the chance at the case. "Well, thanks... I guess I can just sit in my office doing nothing for a while longer, then." "Don't be like that, Morgan. I'm sure you'll find some work soon. Like that couple ya were eavesdropping on. I'm sure she'll want her man to get a knock to the head soon." "Ten years ago, I might be able to take that guy. All I have to my advantage is brass knuckles." You get up from the bar and say, "But if that's all there's to say... call me when the case is over and tell me how it went." "Okay, Morgan. See ya later." Neil finishes another beer and starts motioning for more. As you start heading towards the door, he says, "Take care of yerself, please?" "Sure, Neil. Sure." You leave the bar out into the late night fog. You inhale a bit of the salty sea air, reminiscing of days gone by. You start walking in the opposite direction of home, listening to the sound of your feet against the ground. The alcohol has yet to truly kick in and you feel like if you went home now, you'd finish off the last of the Old Irish and wallow in sadness the rest of the night. The harbor looks nice for a swim, though...

{(set: $neil to true) You twirl your glass around before saying, "As much as it pains me to say it, I'm going to trust you on this one."} "Well, thank ya for that vote of confidence, Morgan." Neil clangs your glasses together and chugs down another beer. "I hope this will be a step towards putting that Sarah business behind us." "Don't worry about it, Neil. I put that business behind me the second the divorce papers were signed." You finish your beer and slam it on the counter, "So, as for your cut, how does twenty percent sound?" Neil looks at you with a puzzled look, "Twenty percent? That place has cost me more than any other and from what you showed me, thirty percent should cover it. Besides, one of my guys already did most of the legwork... and might've taken a knife in the gut for ya." Thirty percent felt excessive, given that it all you expect are some notes. But if the story about one of his guys being attacked and needing surgery is true, he might deserve some of the cut as well. "Fine, thirty percent." "Terrific!" Neil says. "It's a pleasure doin' business with ya again, Morgan. And here." He tosses some money on the counter, "At least this round of drinks is on me." "Thanks." Neil gets up from the bar and starts heading towards the door, avoiding the pile of vomit that still had yet to be cleaned up. "I should have yer info 'bout Glenwood sometime tomorrow. Best of luck on finding the boy." He waves goodbye and leaves the bar. You wave back and twirl your empty glass around. The crowd from earlier has died down a bit, leaving you a moment to think about things. You don't know exactly what you've gotten yourself into but at least there is a nice paycheck waiting for you at the end of this road, regardless of the status of the boy. You get up and get ready to leave Flannigan's, knowing that the moment Neil's notes arrive tomorrow, the case will officially [[begin|End Part 2]]...

"As much as I appreciate the offer, I think I'll do just fine on my own." Neil looks at you intently, "I'm being serious here. I don't want ya to end up gettin' killed durin' this case." He stands up and continues, "Look, if this is about what happened with Sarah..." "It's not, Neil. Trust me," you say while finishing one more beer. "If I was still upset over that, this conversation would have ended sooner and with your teeth on the floor. Besides, if you needed money, you should have accepted Mrs. Pendergast's offer instead of throwing it my way." Your section of the bar turns quiet, as if the crowd from earlier briefly vanished while waiting for the two of you to finish your last drinks. You finish off yours first and get ready to leave, finding just enough change to pay for your tab. "I'll let you know how the case goes, Neil. Nice talking to you." "Yeah, Morgan... nice talkin' to ya..." You toss the change on the bar and head towards the exit, avoiding the pile of vomit still yet to be cleaned up. It was going to be an early morning for you as the case would officially begin. And a trip to Glenwood [[Estates|End Part 2]]...

You observe how despite the riots only having been less than six months ago, the vines wrapped around the gates and the sign above with the bold text to say "Glenwood Estates." Along the wall is a gold plate affixed to the brick and mortar. It is impossible to tell what was originally written on the plating, as graffiti of some kind was painted all over it. Not all there was to read was [[gibberish|Glenwood Estates A]].

You open up your brown jacket and look through the pockets. Inside is: The package of Lucky Strike from your office and a lighter to go with it, in case the craving becomes too much; Your trusty revolver, loaded with six bullets; Neil's notes about Glenwood; Your notebook and a pen; and your wallet with about fourty dollars. Seems more than adequate for [[today|Glenwood Estates A]].

{(set: $location1 to true) The writing looks to me more ledgible than Neil's. "This must have been written by the guy who got stabbed here before," you say to yourself. The first location the writing says to look for is:} "Once you get past the front gate, there should be a house with the shattered remains of lawn ornaments scattered all the front. Go through this house as it looks like it was meant to convince wanderers to think it was a trap. The back door has fallen apart so one could go through here and cross the back yard to the next [[house|Glenwood Estates A]]."

You open up your brown jacket and look through the pockets. Inside is: The package of Lucky Strike from your office and a lighter to go with it, in case the craving becomes too much; Your trusty revolver, loaded with six bullets; Your notebook and a pen; and your wallet with about fourty dollars. Seems more than adequate for [[today|Glenwood Estates B]].

Another empty house and you are now standing on the east side of Glenwood Estates. It was here that the worst of the damage the riots caused could be seen. Most of the homes here are falling apart, some with roofs caving in. It was at this point you started thinking about how ridiculous it might have been that Mrs. Pendergast's son would have stayed within five miles of this place. You walked along the street, avoiding the many potholes and deep cracks in the pavement. The sunlight around the place was beginning to die down as a large blanket of clouds covered the sky. And following that was a thick fog, as if the almighty himself was trying to tell you this is a bad idea. The scattering of figures among the haze agreed with the natural order, as you'd expect the homeless that roam around these parts to do. {(if: $location2 is false)[Because of the chaos surrounding you, it was difficult to determine what everything was supposed to be. You pull out the [[notes|Location 2]] to see if they have anything to say about it.] (if: $location2 is true)[You turn your head to the left and see the sawn-off streetlights. You try and listen to the noises around you, hoping to hear footsteps fading into the distance. You hear a few of them faintly but are not sure which direction they went.]} (if: $location2 is true)[You decide that waiting any longer could be a mistake so you crouch down and creep down the street, speeding up when you get to the lights. You hear whispering coming from the house the notes mentioned and assume that someone must have seen you. You get up and start running forward along the road, unsure of where it would [[lead|Glenwood Estates A3]].]

{(set: $location2 to true) It is at this moment you are glad that despite the gloomy weather that looms high above, rain hasn't begun to pour down on the grounds. Navigating the rubble and falling woodwork would have been much more difficult if you had to keep the notes from taking on water. "Where do I go next?" you say while reading:} "When you get to the street, there should be two visible streetlights that have been sawn off from the base. The home between these two should be avoided at all costs. I made the unfortunate mistake of crossing this way. As it turns out, the Horowitz place is down the other end of this street. But to get to the Pendergast Estate, you will have to go past the streetlights and hope no one sees you. If you get there, the rest should be [[good|Glenwood Estates A2]]."

Running around, you hear the sounds of cackling all around you and it distracts you to where you get lost in a unkempt growth of shrubbery. It takes you a while to navigate out of the shrubbery, to where the color of the sky has darkened to a purplish hue. When you look around to find a landmark of some kind, you spot a homeless man with both of his legs cut off at the shins. His clothes look quite ragged and spots on the fabric that could be mildew. He takes a notice of you and runs his hand, missing three fingers, through his hair before saying, "Hello there, stranger." You hesitate to respond since you assume this might have been a trap. But given how you got lost in your own lack of foresight, you didn't have much of a choice, "Hi. How are you today?" "Mighty fine, given the circumstances." The man notices you looking at his legs and says, "And before you ask, no. I didn't lose my legs in the riots. I lost them around the time of the Chicago bombing when I was over in Korea. One of my guys stepped on a landmine and I happened to be standing next to him. Caught a good chunk of the blast." "Sorry to hear that," you say before asking about the Estates. "How long have you been here, then?" "Most of my life, stranger. My parents used to live in the house now occupied by the Wolf Pack, died shortly before I went on my tour so lucky for them, they didn't have to live through losing their homestead." The man was getting on a ramble about his life since he got kicked out of his house and you didn't feel like being in this place after dark. You stopped him to ask, "So you know where the Pendergast [[place|Glenwood Estates A4]] is?"

"Sure, it's down this road here. Right about the back end of here, actually. The golden jewel of Glenwood, once upon a time. But I would stay away from there, stranger. I've heard that there is a strange creature roaming the area. A very dangerous one." Creature? You wonder what exactly this man was talking about and make an inquiry, "Wait, what kind of creature? Like a wolf or something of the like?" "Not exactly. More like a bear, from what I've heard. Very powerful and vicious. Some say it's killed three men already." "Has anyone actually seen this 'monster'?" "Not any who have lived to tell the tale. There have been scraps of flesh thrown around the Pendergast place and leading to the forest behind it, though. I've seen the remains of one of the men carted out, if that's the kind of proof you need. Pretty grizzly stuff, if you ask me." "Interesting." You look at the sky and see that the sunlight might not be around for another hour and realize you need to hurry, "Well, thanks for the directions, sir. And hope things work out better for you." "It's alright, sir. I got tuberculosis, so I don't have much time for this world. Do hurry when you're at the Pendergast place. The creature likes to hunt at night." The homeless man waves goodbye with his crippled hand while scratching at what you assume was remaining shrapnel from the landmine. You wave goodbye and start heading to the Pendergast place. Part of you wonders why the man was so friendly to you and come to the conclusion that your boots might have had something to do with [[it|Pendergast Estate A]].

You finally arrive at the Pendergast Estate, taking a good [[look|Observation A]] at the place. You see the trails of blood that run around the place. {(if: $neil is true)["Guess he was telling the truth, then. At least about something out there killing people." Whether or not it was really a monster was debatable.] (if: $neil is false)["Jesus, what the hell had happened here?" you remark. It looks like a dog or something like it must have been hunting around here.} There did appear to be hole in the wall that you could climb through, so you do so. Once you get inside, you take notice of the tile floor. A formerly pristine white covered in grime and other things that you don't want to consider. The entryway had an elegant double staircase that appeared to spiral within one another. Many of the walls were marked where paintings and pictures used to be adorned with pride. {(if: $neil is true)[Like the house you entered near the entrance to Glenwood, everything had been picked to the bone.](if: $neil is false)[The place had been picked apart to the bone. Hard to imagine that there are any clues to Charlie's wherabouts still here.]} The bottom floor of the estate didn't lend itself to any details of value, so you walk up the staircase to the second floor. The scale of this floor felt more intimate than the previous, despite seeming to be similar in size. Probably due to the ceiling appearing to be closer on this floor, you think. You notice that two of the doors here are closed, one of which had scratch marks all over it. {(if: $neil is true)[You say, "Could that have been from this so-called "monster" the man told you [[about|Pendergast Estate B]]?"](if: $neil is false)[You say, "What the hell is that all [[about|Pendergast Estate B]]?]}

A three story estate. The only one of it's kind within the entirety of Glenwood, at least from the parts you have seen. A large balcony on both the ground floor and the second, the latter of which has fallen down and blocked the front entrance. The windows look to have been broken from the outside. The paint has looked to have faded considerably, leaving a look to the home of that reminiscent of the sky currently lurking above. It's hard to imagine that anyone could walk away from the chaos with their bank accounts [[intact|Pendergast Estate A]].

Both of the closed doors look worthwhile to investigate. After all, privacy doesn't seem to be a necessity here, especially when the house is supposed to be abandoned. The question is whether you go with the [[scratched-up|Scratched-Up Door]] door or the more well [[put-together|Put-Together Door]] one first...

A while of wandering aimlessly through the estates had many perils among it, with the roads having cracks and potholes, the whispers that creep from deep within the ever increasing fog. It was feeling like you might need to leave here before nightfall came, even if you had yet to find where the Pendergast place was. While gathering your thoughts, a pair of men approach you from the bushes. "I really should have seen this coming," you say when the pair get closer to you. The leader, a man dressed in a worn out courdory suit, walks circles around you. "What brings you around these parts?" His lackey is standing next to you, looking carefully. You try and keep your composure in the situation, "Just looking around, trying to find the Pendergast place." The leader asks, "Pendergast, huh? Well, around here, the Wolf Pack determines who is allowed to go where. And that place is not allowed for strangers like yourself." He pulls out a rusty switchblade and points it towards your chest, "Unless you can pay the toll." Not wanting to get shanked, you say, "How much is the toll?" "How much you got?" Suddenly, you remember that you have your gun in your jacket, loaded and ready to go. You assess the leader and think that he might not be able to react in time to avoid a gunshot. Whether that shot would be a [[warning|Warning Shot]] or [[kill|Kill Shot]] shot is debatable, but it also might not be worth tempting [[fate|Give Money]].

{(set: $bullets to "four") You move your hand to your pocket, saying to the leader, "I guess I have no choice but to pay, then." But when you reach deeper than where your wallet it, you clench tightly on your revolver. With a quick motion, you pull out the gun and fire two shots at the man's feet. He steps back and drops the switchblade. You pick it up and throw it far away from there. The leader backs up as you point the gun in his direction, yet from the look in his eyes, you could tell that he was motioning for his lackey to sneak up on you. The smile on his face gave his surprise away and you swung your arm behind you, hitting the lackey. After this, you were able to run away and escape. After a while of running, you stop and try to catch your breath. You managed to get away from potential danger but are not sure how close you are now to the Pendergast place. You had reached the back of the estates, where the forest loomed behind. Now, the sunlight around the place was beginning to die down as a large blanket of clouds covered the sky. It wouldn't be long before it get dark, so you try and push forward, hoping to find the Pendergast place before [[nightfall|Pendergast Estate A]].

{(set: $bullets to "three") You move your hand to your pocket, saying to the leader, "I guess I have no choice but to pay, then." But when you reach deeper than where your wallet it, you clench tightly on your revolver. With a quick motion, you pull out the gun and fire three shots into the leader. Blood spurts out of the bullet wounds, two in the chest and one in the head. The lackey looks at you, confused. He tries to say something but you already have pointed the gun at his direction. You say, "Get out of here! Or do you want to end up like your friend over there?" Without a moment's hesitation, the lackey ran away, screaming his head off. Now that situation was out of the way, you think about how you should have asked for directions to the Pendergast place. Without warning, the sunlight around the place was beginning to die down as a large blanket of clouds covered the sky. But it was too late to turn back now, as the case already took the life of some poor schmuck. All you could do now was move forward and hope you could find the place before [[dark|Pendergast Estate A]].

{(set: $wallet to false) You take your wallet out of your jacket and take out all the money inside of it. "Is this going to cover it?"} The leader takes the money and without looking at the amount, "Yeah, should be good enough. You are free to go." He puts away the switchblade and motions towards his lackey, "Enjoy the rest of your day, my good sir." You stand there, dejected over the series of events. Now without a dollar in your possession, who knows where that might end up biting you in the ass. The sunlight around the place was beginning to die down as a large blanket of clouds covered the sky. But there was nothing else to do but keep moving forward and hoping that you end up at your [[destination|Pendergast Estate A]].

You creep your way towards the door with all of the scratches on it. The closer you get, the more you notice that the scratches look strange. Considerably different than one would expect from a dog or a wolf. "Strange, what could have made these marks?" you say to yourself while placing your head next to the door. Listening through the wood, you hear the sound of the wind blowing and nothing else. There is a putrid stench coming from the crack at the bottom. You turn the knob on the door, surprised that it is unlocked, and try to open the door. Before you finish turning the knob, a voice from behind you says, "I wouldn't do that if I were you." You turn around and see a thin man wearing very little standing by the other door. It is a surprise to see someone in the house after all and you ask, "Who are you and why shouldn't I open the door?" "Name's Rich, mister," he says while walking your way. "And the monster likes going into that room at night. Sometimes during the day too." {(if: $neil is true)[You respond, "Monster, huh? Heard about that from someone else around here too. What makes you think there is a monster around here?"] (if: $neil is false)[You respond, "A monster? Really? What makes you think it's a monster?"]} Rich comes closer, with a makeshift knife in his hand. The grip seemed loose enough to not consider him a threat. "Every night, I hear strange noises. Something similar to barking but not exactly. More like wailing. And when I first came here to live, some nights, something would bash on my door for hours on end." "Didn't think it was one of the other people around here messing with you?" "With the diet these people have? I don't think anyone has the strength or the will to do [[that|SUD2]]."

You walk over to the other door, creeping slowly as the floorboards creek with each step. The closer to the door you get, the more it looks like a light is coming from the bottom crack. "Someone is living here?" you say, thinking that it might actually be Charlie. Before you touch the door, it swings open and a thin, raspy voiced man screams and jumps on top of you, "Die, beast!" You manage to push the man off of you and see that he had a makeshift knife held in one hand. You swing your foot at his hand and knock the blade out of it, following that up by saying, "What is your problem?" The man gets up, trying to grab the knife. When he gets a hold of it, he points it in your direction. "Stay back! I won't hesitate to kill you!" {(if: $bullets is "three" or "four")[You thought about pulling out your gun to try and gain the upper hand. You remember that you already used it and decide to put your hands up and comply.] (else:)[You had the desire to pull out your gun to gain the upper hand in the situation but don't want to come off as violent to this potentially dangerous man. You put your hands up in the air and comply.]} "I'm not going to hurt you, man. I just want to know what you're doing here." "I live here. What's that got to do with you?" You ask the obvious question, "Your name Charlie?" "No," the thin man said. "It's Rich." "Okay, Rich. Well, Charlie used to live here and I'm looking for him. Has anyone strange come by since you've been here?" "No one come by here. Not with that monster that comes around here at [[night|PTD2]]."

{(if: $neil is true)["Monster, huh?" you say, looking at Rich. "Someone around here mentioned something about a monster too. What makes you sure that there actually is one around here?"] (if: $neil is false)[You respond, "A monster? Really? What makes you think it's a monster?"]} Rich stands up and says, "Every night, I hear strange noises. Something similar to barking but not exactly. More like wailing. And when I first came here to live, some nights, something would bash on my door for hours on end." "Didn't think it was one of the other people around here messing with you?" "With the diet these people have? I don't think anyone has the strength or the will to do that?" "True," you say. You remember that the other door was there and it might be good to check on it. "Do you know anything about what's in the room with all the scratches on the door?" "Yeah, it isn't pretty. Whenever it comes here, that's where the monster sleeps. Or eats." "Really? Why there specifically?" Rich did answer you but you weren't looking for one. Something did cross your mind about the room but you could have been wrong. But maybe you needed to take a closer look. "Think you can open the door for me?" "Sure, if you got some cash to spare. Or maybe something else." {(if: $wallet is true)[You look through your wallet and get out some cash, "Does that seem alright with [[you|PTD Transition]]?"] (if: $wallet is false)[You remember that you lost your money to the goons from earlier... but you did have your cigarettes. And maybe they go by prison currency here too. You hold them out, "I don't have cash but do these [[work|PTD Transition]]?"]}

"True," you say. You stand up and look at the door, then at Rich. "Do you know what's behind this door, Rich?" "Yeah, it isn't pretty. Whenever it comes here, that's where the monster sleeps. Or eats." "Really? Why there specifically?" Rich did answer you but you weren't looking for one. Something did cross your mind about the room but you could have been wrong. But maybe you needed to take a closer look. "Think you can open the door for me?" "Seems like you were just about to do that yourself. Or do you think that something scary is waiting for you behind there?" You take his criticism into consideration before opening the [[door|The Room A]].

{(if: $wallet is true)[Rich takes the money from you and says, "Yes, this will do nicely.] (if: $wallet is false)[Rich takes the cigarettes from you and says, "Yeah, these might fetch me something nice."]} He then starts walking towards the door and you [[follow|The Room A]].

The two of you enter the room, the light from outside barely illuminating it. Rich lights up a match and uses the flame to light up a candle placed on the floor next to the door. Once the light came up, you saw a strange sight. Bodily fluids piled up on one corner, some bones and rotting flesh in another, and one of the walls had a hook attached to it. Chains lay down near that spot on the wall. { (if: $neil is true)[Mrs. Pendergast never said anything about owning a dog of some kind, you think. At least, if this was a room made for a dog. Now it makes sense that the 'monster' would return here.] (if: $neil is false)[Did Mrs. Pendergast mention anything about owning a dog? Guess it would make sense that she would be the kind of person to have a room dedicated to a pet. And that it is probably the 'monster' Rich is referring to.]} "Jesus, the room is a fucking mess," you say. "I would expect only an animal to stay here for longer than any person could." "And that's why I keep the door closed," Rich says as the two of you leave and close the door. "Well... thanks for your help, Rich. I think I might know where I need to go next. Take [[care|End Part 3]]."

You leave the Pendergast Estate the way you come in and start writing in your [[notebook|Notebook 2]] about the events. Now all that was left to do was to look around in the forest. The so-called 'monster' is believed to roam there and it would be nice to find out if Charlie ran into it. Nightfall has [[come|Transition To Part 4]]...

Writing notes: Damn, the Pendergast woman lead me down a strange path and I don't know what I am actually supposed to be looking for. And part of me wonders what this monster is. I think it might be a dog but if my calculations are correct, it might be something else. I don't know if I should confirm my suspicions but I think I should stay tonight. Maybe in the [[forest|End Part 3]].

(live: 2s)[(goto: "The Forest")]

By the time you found your way into the forest, there is hardly any light left to navigate through it. There is enough to at least take [[inventory|Inventory 3]] again, though. After a moment, exhaustion begins to set in. The hunger you have been suppressing all day has started to affect your body. You decide to rest on one of the trees for a moment, thinking that there was not much you can do now. The faint sound of thunder off in the distance didn't lend itself to a positive escape from Glenwood. But there was not much to think about as you began to drift off to [[sleep|Dream]]...

You open up your brown jacket and look through the pockets. Inside is: {(if: $wallet is false)[A lighter with nothing to use it with;] (if: $wallet is true)[The package of Lucky Strike from your office and a lighter to go with it, in case the craving becomes too much;]} {(if: $bullets is "six")[Your trusty revolver, loaded with six bullets;] (if: $bullets is "four")[Your trusty revolver, now two shots short of fully loaded;] (if: $bullets is "three")[Your trusty revolver, half of the bullets now removed;]} Your notebook and a pen; {(if: $wallet is true)[Your wallet with about twenty dollars in it;] (if: $wallet is false)[Your wallet, now with no cash in it;]} (if: $neil is true)[and Neil's notes on Glenwood [[Estates|The Forest]].] (if: $neil is false)[Hopefully, this should last you through the [[night|The Forest]].]

The pier had been emptied by the threat of a hurricane hours before. Yet for some reason, you and Layla were there, standing by and watching the skies to see it coming towards the city. The wind was blowing fiercely to where the two of you could barely hear one another. It didn't seem to matter though, as long as she was there. Huddled close together, you look at her - //"Why can't I remember what she looked like?" you think for a moment// - and said, "Weather is pretty fierce, but doesn't seem like hurricane weather." "You're probably right, Morgan," she said, running her hand through your hair and messing it up. "But when is the pier this... isolated?" She was right about that. Everyone else was probably at home, huddled together and waiting for the possible hurricane to pass without destroying their lives in the process. //"Whose idea was it to come here?"// Yet being here right now, you didn't want this moment to [[end|The Monster 1]]...

You are awaken by a howling noise that sounded more guttural than anything one would expect from a dog. You stand up tall, hoping to hear the howling again, but the thunder from earlier approaches closer and the two noises bleed together. You pull out your gun and start walking through the darkness. A lightning strike brightened the area briefly, but enough for you to look around and see something deep in the forest. When the light went away, you started heading towards the thing you saw. The speed of your steps slowed down to where you barely moved at all after a while. The next lightning strike illuminated the strange thing you saw, now revealed to be a creature of some sort chewing on the bones of some poor homeless person. It stops eating to take notice of you standing there and watching. It gets up and starts heading towards [[you|Attack 1]].

You fire a shot at the creature, missing wildly and not slowing its assault. It manages to jump up and tackle you to the ground. Its nails start slashing at your arm, causing you to scream in pain. The gun was within reach but you didn't want to leave yourself open for a kill. Fight with your [[fists|Attack 2A]] or try and get the [[gun|Attack 2B]]?

You swing your right fist at the creature's face, knocking it off of you. It lets out a screeching yell before turning itself back around. The creature slashes at your face, digging deep into the flesh. It had almost come close to blinding you with that attack but you kick it in what you think is the stomach area. It walks away and when the lightning strikes again, the shadow appears to be more demonic in form. What have you gotten yourself into? While it is crying in agony, you decide to take advantage of the situation and tackle the beast. You try and land as many punches as you can to take out whatever this creature may be. After a while, you fall to the ground exhausted, unsure if you managed to stop the beast. You listen to the raspy breath next to you and elation flows through you as it seems like you manage to disable the [[creature|Attack 3]].

You use your legs to push off the creature and crawl your way towards the gun. The lightning strikes did not help you as you were resorting to digging your hands through the dirt. When you find the gun, you hear the bellow of the creature from behind you, the noise of which made your skin crawl. You turn to see the creature fast approaching and reacting as quick as you could, { (if: $bullets is "three")[you fire off as many shots as you could, hoping it would be enough to stop the [[creature|Attack 2 Ending]].] (if: $bullets is "four" or "six")[you fire off as many shots as you could, hoping it would be enough to stop the [[creature|Attack 2C]].]}

You manage to land one of your shots into the body of the creature, but it turns out to not be enough. It leaps towards you and starts slashing its nails into the flesh. The creature digs deep into your body, pulling out your intestines with its hands, and blood spurts out of the gaping hole being dug open. It's a sad thing you had to die this way...

{(set: $charlie to false) You manage to land a couple of shots into the body of the creature. As it tries to lunge at you for another attack, it colapses before reaching you.} You stand up and aim your handgun at the creature, despite knowing that you are now out of ammo. The lightning strike showed you the true look of the now deceased beast: it looked like a naked man with long hair all over, his feet and hands covered in calluses after being cut up so much. It was a passing thought that was confirmed now: the 'monster' the locals were referring to was none other than Charlie Pendergast. And now he was dead... Guess you have to tell Mrs. Pendergast the bad news, but not before asking her about why she left out this [[detail|End Part 4]]...

(live: 2s) (if: $charlie is true)[(goto: "Confrontation A")] (if: $charlie is false)[(goto: "Confrontation B")]

Double-click this passage to edit it.

You turn your head around and look to see what this creature is after all. The forest is still too dark to tell what it is but it all becomes clear when the next lightning bolt illuminates it. The creature looked like a naked man with long hair all over, his feet and hands covered in calluses after being cut up so much. It was a passing thought that was confirmed now: the 'monster' the locals were referring to was none other than Charlie Pendergast. What a terrible fate must have befallen him to turn feral like this. The thought that comes to your mind next is whether or not Mrs. Pendergast would pay less if Charlie was dead. Thank goodness he is still alive then, you think. But now the quandary comes if the life that the poor boy will be worth living. Who knows what his mother treated him like? You began to wrestle through your coat, looking for your gun as you think about shooting Charlie. You grab it tightly and point it towards Charlie's head. Were you going to shoot [[him|Attack 3B]] or [[not|Attack 3C]]?

{(set: $charlie to false) ''BANG!''} You couldn't bear to let him live any moment longer the way he had currently. It would be tough to explain to Mrs. Pendergast what happened but that moment will come when it arrives. She would have to explain why she didn't say anything about Charlie's circumstances, [[though|End Part 4]].

As much as you didn't want to let the poor bastard live, you couldn't convince yourself to pull the trigger. Now came the unfortunate task of actually getting Charlie to the car and back to his mother. She was going to have to explain a few things when you get [[back|End Part 4]]...