[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/dZsL0GS.png[/img][/center]
[@Not Fishing] [@lady horatio] [@Rabidporcupine]

David studied the two photographs side by side. Their resemblance was very uncanny, almost as if they'd been taken at the same time... Actually, on further inspection, the pictures were [i]exactly[/i] alike, down to the pixel almost. 

"Huh... That's really weird..."

And suddenly there was a commotion. David grabbed his camera and trained it at the bathroom door as one of the staff members, an older, taller lady, attempted to open the locked door where the little girl was supposedly hiding. He snapped a picture of this scene, even as others around him did the same. The chaos was unfamiliar and familiar at the same time; the stampede of people trying to leave, while the few concerned citizens around him stayed to help. It felt like when he'd taken photos of the aftermath of a school shooting right here in the US. The same sort of panic and fear that existed in herds of buffalo that were being hunted by lions in the African savannah. The pictures he took of the breakfast crowd barging out of the diner weren't great; mostly blurry images of people moving, with the few candid images of the same concerned people in various states of either helping out or...doing something, he wasn't sure what.

Then the loud bang of the bathroom stall door drew his attention. Even though the bathroom door was locked, he watched as bright green vines grew around it almost like time was in fast forward. The lady pressed against the door called out to someone for a key. David took a series of rapid-fire pictures as the door was surrounded by vines, framing Eleanor in green.

Then she vanished. The silence that followed broken only by the click of his camera's shutter as his finger pressed upon it. His mouth was agape.

"Oh."

Without saying another word, David stood from his seat and ran to the back of the diner where his things were. He slammed his Macbook closed, shoved it into his satchel and slung the entire thing around his body. He also instinctively grabbed the fork and knife he'd used to cut up his waffles, gobbled down the bit of bacon left on his fork and followed the rest of the crowd out. He had a gut feeling...just a gut feeling, but in all his years of journalism, his gut hadn't failed him that often. But just before he left, he heard it.

The unmistakable sound of someone screaming.

[i]Inside[/i] the bathroom.

"...shit."

Caught between a rock and a hard place, he sought out the young man behind the counter.

"Mister? We need to get that bathroom open. I heard a lady screaming her head off in there. Whatever took your sister might get to her too, we need to get her out of there and fast."