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You don’t know how long you lingered in the hall after that thing forced you out and walked away in your body. The sickening detached horror of the experience was only made worse by the fact that it doesn’t really look like you anymore. You waited for it to come back, for the Colonel, for the detective. But nobody came.
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The house keeps you there. The void is pure nothingness in all its contradictions. It is vast and claustrophobic, shifting and still, silent and deafening. There is only you – and the body. It is never far off, no matter which direction you try to go. You try not to look at it.
Its silence taunts you. But you can’t stand to stare into the bewildering emptiness around you for long. You start to feel that the only thing keeping you sane is the fact that there isn’t enough of you left to go mad. It is not a comforting thought. You think you hear the body speak to you again. It’s not fair, is it?
You shove it away, exerting what little power you have in this place to force it out, back into the house. You never know what becomes of it. You are alone. The house shows you things, by and.
It lets you wander through your last days over and over again. It lets you see what happened down in the wine cellar that night. It lets you hear Mark’s original plan, and tells you why you were invited to that party in the first place. You’d never met Mark before that night, but he’d heard of you. You often came up in Damien’s stories of college and the years afterwards.
And Damien was so happy when he learned that you would be coming to work as the district attorney that he could speak of almost nothing else. In Mark’s eyes, the Colonel had stolen Celine’s love, and you had stolen Damien’s friendship. For that crime, you were to become a pawn in his plan for vengeance. You were the district attorney, after all.
Who would be in a better position to make sure the Colonel got exactly what he deserved than you? And after stealing your body, Mark would’ve seen to it personally. But, of course, plans changed. You don’t know why the house shows you all this. Perhaps it’s bored.
Perhaps there isn’t much else it can do with a disembodied soul. But worse than any of that knowledge is when it reveals the echoes. They are always just out of reach in the nothingness, and when you wander through the house they seem to be in the next room, out of sight but not quite out of earshot, so to speak.
The first of the two is confused, frightened, aghast at her own helplessness. She struggles to find a way out. She tries to draw from her power, only to find that she has none. She comes nowhere near you, and you make no effort to seek her out. You hate her. Yes, it was all her fault, wasn’t it? She’s the one who did this to you.
She deceived you. She used you. At the end of the day, she’s no better than Mark. The second is heartbroken, devastated, desperate. Instead of searching for an escape, he searches for you. For a long time, you pursue him through the nothingness, through the halls and empty rooms, chasing that single shred of hope – reuniting with the only friend you had in this place.
But the house won’t allow it. Eventually, you give up trying.
You begin to despise him, too. He let this happen. He went along with Celine’s plan even though he knew better. He never really cared about you. Was he ever truly your friend at all?