[color=344A6C][center][h1][b]Tristan Douge[/b][/h1][/center]
[hr][center]Abandoned Church[/center][/color]
[center][@Penny][@Ghost Note][/center][hr]

It was a bit ironic, honestly. Tristan had become used to spending entire days doing nothing but parcelling through news articles & reports throughout Araminta. Disemboweled remains found at night, sightings of the same black dog that led Tristan to [i]hers[/i], reading through every report and sighting, jotting down any specific details mentioned, and even double-checking. Every day and night, it was a storm of cross-referencing missing reports with the discovery of the corpses days later, checking threads and news bulletins for supposed sightings of the Black Shuck (as well as learning the skill to tell which ones were bullshit). He even looked into the recent moth-induced mass-car pileup and kidnapping. Now [i]that[/i] he doubted the legitimacy of, but still integrated it into his search patterns regardless. All in all, something [i]really fucking weird[/i] was going on in this town.

After a rooting frustration, Tristan decided to clear his head; He ran out to the store just to pick up some milk. Just milk, simple as that. Just as he left the store with a single jug in his hand, he felt his phone buzz, and pulled it out of his pocket. He got a text from no number. It recognized his own encounters with the unnatural, and directed him to the old abandoned church.

By the time he made it all the way down there, he actually began to have doubts; This had to be some kind of trick, or wannabe clubhouse. Or maybe it was some big conspiracy, and they wanted him and everyone else who saw it in one spot-- 

But he shelved those doubts for now; It was this time that he [i][b]finally[/b][/i] had an inkling of a lead after days-- Hang on, weeks? ...Months? Had he really been stuck in this ritual of searching news articles and board notes for almost a month now? Good God, it was about time he had something to actually work with.

Tristan hopped a bus down to the Church; Money he was supposed to spend on the trip back home. But it wasn't the first time he threw bus-money for something irrelevant, except this time it was actually [i]important[/i]. After hopping off and a quick two blocks, he finally made it. 7359 Armory Road.

He already saw a few cars parked off to the side; People were already here. Well, if it was a trap of some kind, at least he wouldn't be corralled by himself. A large crowd had converged outside of the actual church, standing in a confused group just outside the entrance.

Seeing just a few other people standing around and talking, he must've been a few minutes late. Some were locked into their own conversations, while others were standing around confused and mumbling, just like him. Awkwardly, he entered the congregation, still holding the jug of milk in his hand.

"H..hello," said a bookish, nervous woman, "I received a text...", catching Tristan's attention. 

"[color=344A6C]Yeah-- yeah. So did I[/color]", he answered, turning to face her and showing his own phone, with the text pulled up, "[color=344A6C]It told you to come down here too? Did-- Did everyone here get a text like that?[/color]" 

Then he clued into her original intention, turning his head and realizing that one of the people present was a [i]cop[/i]. Oh shit, [i]was[/i] this some sting operation? Tristan began to silently panic; He didn't make any sudden or aggressive movements, though, catching she was in fact armed with a gun. Instead he just stood there, still facing the woman he responded to, while also trying to stand open to the rest of the group in the church.