Surprisingly, with nothing but a feeling, he found the building. Well, to be more precise, it was a dilapidated shack in the middle of nowhere. With his mask in his lap and his willing of it, the illusion had fallen into place, making his presence virtually imperceptible. Couldn't be sooner, as the building didn't seem to have a ramp for him to try and roll up through the entrance. Looking around the general area and spotting a few planks leaning against the side of the shack, he leant over to noisily knock them over, though the general illusion of imperceptibility would have...well, nobody would notice, even while walking on or crossing over it. Not till the illusion was put to rest, or at least till he separated from the mask. With a little bit more nudging here and there it seemed to become a decent enough ramp for him to make use of.

Finally wheeling himself up and into the shack, he looked up and had a creeping feeling...looking around, just before the doorway, he took sight of a real photographic moment. A large woodland spider in a very thick web, eating a trapped moth. Adjusting his camera, holding it steady, he finally took his pictures before actually going into the building. Mask in lap, camera in hand, looking over the picture briefly...Isaiah finally noticed the--"WOAH, okay!?" Looking up at what could only be the visage of death, for what must have been minutes, the paraplegic tried to remember when exactly he could have recently died.

No, he couldn't be dead, right? Isaiah doubted he could use a camera is he were a ghost, or even still be wheelchair bound, for that matter. Laughing nervously, trying desperately to trust the strange power of the mask, hoping this reaper false..."...gods...!" Was the only thing he could mutter to himself in the moments after.