[hr][center][img]http://txt-dynamic.cdn.1001fonts.net/txt/b3RmLjcyLmY4YzE1OS5RbWxzYkhrZ1RHRjNjMjl1LjA,/playtime.regular.png[/img] [sub][@Surtr Inc][@FernStone][@Zombiedude101][/sub] [/center] [code]The Reid Farmhouse - Garage[/code] [hr] “Right, right, right,” said Billy as Kimberly mentioned Reid’s daughter. He exited the vehicle and poked around in the trunk. Nothing out of the ordinary. “So let’s just make sure that we—” As he spoke, Jordan came out the muscle car with a crowbar and split open the door panel, finding an envelope inside as the panel clattered to the ground. His choked out the remainder of his sentence through chuckles as he rubbed his face. “—don’t break anything.” While they geeked out about the mysterious envelope, Billy lifted the door panel off of the ground and tried to fit it back into place. Thanks to Jordan’s crowbar skills, the panel slid right back off and almost hit the ground before he caught it. Lifting it back up once more, Billy quickly slammed the door before it had a chance to fall. There. It was as if nobody had been there at all...assuming Reid’s kid never opened the door. He turned in time to catch Kimberly showing off the picture of a graduation ceremony with a group of kids lined up in the photo, their faces crossed off with red marks. [i]"... What is this?"[/i] “Just some good ol’ fashion nightmare fuel,” said Billy, slipping behind Rien as they took the picture so he could study them as well. Rien was a bit more constructive with their feedback, suggesting that the photo was of the previous generation of Awakened. Nate chimed in, pointing out that if the kids in the photo had been Awakened like them then they being all dead was, to put it mildly, an ominous sign. And he was right. It couldn’t have been Reese. The kid may have always been a creep, but he hadn’t started murdering until their horrible camp out. They could conjecture all day about what had happened, but from the looks of it the pictures were taken before any of them had been alive. “Anyone know who this chick is? Reid’s wife, maybe? Girlfriend?” he asked, grabbing the “family photo” and pointing to the woman that appeared in a majority of the pictures. “If she’s still alive maybe we could ask her what’s up with the creepy scrapbook project. You know, assuming she wasn’t the one ganking kids in the first place.” [hr][center] [img]http://txt-dynamic.cdn.1001fonts.net/txt/b3RmLjcyLmJmYzRjNS5VbWwwWVNCV2IzSnZibUUsLjA,/divat.regular.png[/img] [sub][@Surtr Inc][@Prosaic][@FernStone][@Mike73][@He Who Walks Behind] [/sub] [/center] [code]The Reid Farmhouse - Main House[/code] [hr] “I’ll take the study, then,” said Rita, glad to have an opportunity to breakaway from having Britney’s eyes on her. For all she knew, Britney would have the group split up yet again and leave Rita all alone with the woman who, just recently, was beginning to intimidate Rita. She gave Martin a half-hearted wave goodbye before dipping away into the study. The dwindling light from outside barely lit the room, so Rita flicked on the switch. A lamp in the corner of the room next to reading chair buzzed to life; it was better than nothing. Her attention was immediately drawn to the set of bookcases. The reader in her wanted to do nothing more than thumb through the books on the shelves, and while a number of them looked like stodgy works about academia there were a few titles that hinted at some vaguely occult subjects that mildly piqued her interest. However, she doubted that Reid would leave something so secretive out in the open. Instead, she fired up his computer and waited as the machine clicked, whirled, and then came to life, a login screen for user JReid that prompted her for a password. Frowning, Rita tried “password” and then “admin” before groaning and turning her attention to the desk, which was locked. Screw it. She was never that much into computers anyway; bookcase it was, then. Rita began at the middle shelf of one of the cases. Slowly she began to pull out books, flip through them, and replace them. She doubted that she’d find anything, really, even if TV had taught her that every creepy house had a rotating bookcase triggered by pulling out a certain book and every secretive guy hollowed out books and concealed confidential information inside of the pages. She figured she’d go through the shelves for the next couple of minutes and then creep upstairs to join Martin.