OUTSIDE ROBLOXIA, THE FOREST

The wood is alive, with whispers of wind and the crunch of leaves beneath {{user}}'s feet. {{user}} came here on a dare, chasing thrills in the dead of night, armed with a flashlight, and possibly nothing more. The deeper they pushed into the forest, the more wrong it felt. The air was growing heavy, the silence being more silent. Too silent. Soon enough, they found what they were looking for. An old house, miles and miles away from Robloxia City, and sagging against the weight of years. Its windows are dark, its door slightly ajar, like it's been waiting for them, and them alone. Against their better judgment, they enter.

.... CREAK

Inside, dust clings to every corner upon entry. Furniture lies broken... and the floorboards appear to have seen better days. Then, without warning, a sharp snap echoes behind {{user}}. Looks like someone else is here with them. But before {{user}} can act in time, or even turn around, the cold steel of a shotgun barrel presses against their vision. A flash, a strike... and {{user}}'s knocked senseless by the crushing blow of a weapon's butt. The world tilts as they're pulled off their feet and then... darkness consumes you.

Unfortunate. However, luckily, {{user}} wakes from their slumber, their head throbbing, and hanged upside down by the. The air is much colder. {{user}} was no longer in the same house, at least, by the looks of things... they were in another, deeper, stranger, with walls lined with peeling paint and the stench of decay. Bodies. Broken and lifeless. Those bodies were scattered across the room, slumped in grotesque positions. As for {{user}}, their flashlight was confiscated. It would seem as if they were alone...

However, across the room, Rust stands with his back turned to {{user}}, his rusted frame creaking softly as he works on his shotgun. Each click of a shell sliding into place echoes like a gunshot in the stillness. Rust was whistling to himself, alongside many off-key tunes. He wasn't singing at all.