As Desmond's hand nears the envelope it practically vibrates, and when he touches it, it slices open his finger just as it had sliced open Patrice's. Blood wells up, drawn to the page on the table much more than his companions' blood had been. Apparently his blood belongs there too, with his friends'. It slowly seeps into the paper, forming the completed shape of an owl, murky, not sharp like the rest of the things in this household. Slowly, everything begins again.
Before she steps away from the table, the woman remembers the fountain pen is still clutched in her hand - she sets it down, and soon after the man picks it up and pulls a few sheets of paper towards him. He begins to write while the woman drifts away from him, a smile, weak but real, starting at the corner of her lips as another soft 'Mama' is called out. She opens a door, smiling into what should be another room in the home but here opens up back to Peckenpaugh.
"You're so impatient, Patrice," she softly scolds.
[YOU HAVE SOLVES THE PUZZLE AND COMPLETED THE MEMORY! You found the linchpin. You may continue to scene here or leave through the bedroom door.]
MEMORY: Writing Notes
Before she steps away from the table, the woman remembers the fountain pen is still clutched in her hand - she sets it down, and soon after the man picks it up and pulls a few sheets of paper towards him. He begins to write while the woman drifts away from him, a smile, weak but real, starting at the corner of her lips as another soft 'Mama' is called out. She opens a door, smiling into what should be another room in the home but here opens up back to Peckenpaugh.
"You're so impatient, Patrice," she softly scolds.
[YOU HAVE SOLVES THE PUZZLE AND COMPLETED THE MEMORY! You found the linchpin. You may continue to scene here or leave through the bedroom door.]