10/29/20 Snippet, PATCHWORK GOD.

I just had a horrible realization what’s happening here. Glad I figured it out in time!

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We knew there wasn’t anybody in the rooms. If there had been, any of the three of us would have felt their presence at this range. And it turned out there were no traps; or if there were, then they were designed to trigger in the presence of humans. Which isn’t exactly unreasonable. Even most of the humans who know about the supernatural don’t really believe in either Side. We’re metaphors or anthropomorphic representations or whatever other rationalization the humans are using this week. It’d be more annoying if it weren’t usually so useful.

So what was left was were three connected rooms. The two outer ones looked sloppy and carelessly lived-in; humans apparently didn’t smoke in hotel rooms anymore, but the air still tasted of low oxygen and various organic byproducts. These people weren’t exactly neat freaks, either: clothes spilled out of overnight bags, and the underwear was piling up.

There was one other thing; there was plenty of food and water, all prepackaged and in bulk. At first, I just let that pass (seems efficient, right?), but it made Jack stop short. “That is strange,” he said.

“Oh, is it?” said Pat.

“It is at least something of interest,” replied Jack.