>Examine Room

You know...the fact that it's just KINDA bigger on the inside than the outside is actually somehow sadder than if it were the same logical size. You wonder if anything in here could even possibly be of any use...

The monitor on the desk does not turn on. It only makes a soft, slight fizzle and the tiniest little "pop" when you press the switch on the side.

The metal drawer once again contains the same junk you left in the one back at the exam ward.

The larger, bottom drawers are empty, but spacious. You can't even find the back wall and could probably fit a person in there.

The ceiling is extremely high. The dangling lightbulb's cord keeps extending into darkness.

The interior of the bucket appears damp and sticky. It smells like rotten meat.

Warm, moist, sickly-sweet air wafts gently from the blue tunnel. You feel a throbbing vibration when you touch its plastic surface.

The cardboard inbox on the desk is filled with about an inch of dust...and one very small object.

FOUND: "TEMP STAFF" PIN.

A cheap, plastic pin labeled in what seems to be sharpie pen. Holding it in your hand...tingles.

FERN:

Willis, do you have any idea what will happen if I put this on?

WILLIS:

Uhhhhh...dunno...I'm not 'sposda play in here. I mean...I play in here LOTS...but I dunno how nothin' works 'cause I have to hide a lot. I'm not really allowed in here.