The woman wasn't dead, just unconscious (Thank God.) After pinning her down, Bunny thumped her head with a hammer she found in the garage.

"I didn't hit her hard. I didn't think she was going to pass out."

"What else was going to happen? More importantly, what do we do now?"

"I don’t know. It's your house."

The way she said it reminded me of being bored at a friend's place as a kid, trying to decide what to do next. Did the guests have to decide or the hosts? The answer seemed to always be whichever one you weren't.

"You're my guest for the night, remember? It wouldn't be polite for me to decide everything by myself."

I hunkered over to inspect the woman sprawled out on my floor. She isn’t bleeding, but there's a hell of a bruise forming on her forehead. She might have a concussion. I think this is the type of injury bad enough to drive to the ER for, but not so bad that you need to call 911. Maybe not the best possible outcome, but better than I was expecting.

"Thanks for not stabbing her, Buns. That could have been really bad."

"I don't have my knife anymore."

"I thought you always carried one around?"

"I threw it away in a trash can we passed earlier today."

Huh. I wonder why she did that. She doesn't seem like the type to voluntarily make herself less of a threat. I guess she could have been getting rid of evidence, but why did she wait so late?

We moved the unconscious woman to the living room couch. If we drove her to the ER and they asked what happened, we might look suspicious. Just throwing her outside didn't feel right either. Without her gun, she seems pretty harmless, so it’s okay if she stays here until she wakes up. Then I guess we'll grill her for answers. I'll be good cop, Bunny will be bad cop. I guess more accurately we would be confused cop and uninterested cop, respectively.

I fumble with the weird gun in my hands. It's shaped pretty believably, but the material is so strange. It's like modeling clay after being opened. If I shoved my thumb hard enough into the side, I think it would leave an imprint. I fiddled with the spinny chamber part for a moment and it dislodged itself from the side. Inside I could see the bullets. They were the same shade of blue as every other part of the gun, but their texture was different. They were… kinda fuzzy? I tried to shake them out, but all six were wedged too firmly up in there.

"Hey, Bunny… should we try shooting this thing?"

She didn't respond, just watched me play with it like a fidget toy.

"I think if I fired it into the ground in the backyard it wouldn't hurt anything, but I'm worried the sound might make my neighbors call the police."

She still didn’t do anything. I guess that’s her way of showing disapproval.

It had gotten late during all the commotion. The only lights in the house were the shines of bright orange coming from the street lamps outside, split into bars by my half-pulled blinds. I pulled them down and closed them, then flipped on the kitchen and dining room lights. The dining room chandelier has a pale yellow glow. It feels refined with an air of antiquity. It clashes with the light from the kitchen, a single uncovered fluorescent bulb that burns so white it's almost blue. Both of these reach out down the hall into the deeper unlit rooms, grasping for whatever photons they can reach to clear their shadows.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Despite the presence of my guest...s, I decided I should take my shower while I can. I politely excused myself and hobbled up the dark stairs. Even though my room is cluttered with junk and unidentifiable machines, I know it well enough to make it over to my dresser without light. I pulled from it a fresh change of undies and the least embarrassing set of pajamas I have. (not including the sleek pair that I lend Bunny now.)

I entered the bathroom then closed and locked the door. It was almost completely pitch black aside from a small spark of light from the window. Out of curiosity I peeked through. The light I was seeing was the faint light of a TV from my next door neighbor's window. That wasn't quite effective enough for bathing, so I closed the blinds and flipped the light switch on. There are four bulbs above the mirror, but only one of them still works. It flickers sometimes. I keep forgetting to buy better light bulbs, but to tell the truth, I think I prefer the dim lighting. It's romantic, in a way. It's soothing. It also helps to hide any spots of dirt or hair. I can't stand dirty bathrooms.

The hot water warms me up. I didn't even realize I was cold. I didn't realize how stressed I was, either, until I began to lather up my hair with some flowery-smelling shampoo. Running the knots out of my hair felt like relief from these recent days of anxiety. So much has happened that I haven't had much time for myself lately. Rose did this, demon did that. I just want to relax and not worry about anything. It would be nice if I could forget about all… This. I know I tried that before, and it didn't work. It ended with me crying in an optometrist's. That's like the golden standard of "not working". Now I have Bunny, though. She's a good bodyguard as she proved about fifteen minutes ago. She just needed a bit of adjustment, is all. While she's here, I don't have to worry about anyone coming and "getting" me.

The demon thing is still a worry though, for sure. When I look closely into the mirror I can just barely see the skulls deep in my pupils, their mouths open and unmoving. It's kind of badass, honestly. It doesn’t hurt, so whatever. Oh, can’t forget to pick up my glasses soon.

My WORD problem is a bitch sometimes. Being unable to read certain things might bite me in the ass one day. I don’t know how to handle this issue, in all honesty. But these things aside…

Aren't I pretty much okay?

Maybe I need to let go of all this stress. It's just weighing me down. I'm safe, I have a house, I have a friend, I have the internet, I have a lot of things that I need to appreciate more. Actually, I might be better than okay. The grocery store I work at part-time is closed for the rest of the week for renovations. Less money, sure, but I don't have to break my back stocking shelves of discount Ragu for hours. I can pretty much laze around and watch YouTube all day. I have a huge backlog of let's plays to catch up on, and Rose keeps telling me I need to get into some rabbit-themed vtuber. I kind of want to rebuild my friendship with her. Maybe I’ll wait for her to stop acting like an evil bitch first.

I turn off the water and begin to dry myself. I have a weird sense of excitement. It's that type energy when you're taking a shower at a sleepover. You've spent all day playing with your friends, for so long that you forget how to appreciate it. But then, under the grace of hot water, you appreciate your loneliness. You finally get a moment to unpack it all. You realize how much fun you're having, and you can't wait to finish up to play some more.

I won't lie and say that I'm that happy right now, but I am looking forward to doing fun things for myself. And I have a friend waiting on me downstairs as well.

With my hair still dripping wet, I happily trot back down the dark steps I ascended a few minutes ago.

"Hey Bunny, do you watch YouTube? There's this guy I watch who reviews microwave dinners and blank VHS tapes and stuff, and I thought that maybe you'd like t-"

Ah fuck. I forgot about the random woman in my house. Shit shit shit. She's still lying dazed on the couch, but she's definitely awake. Bunny's sitting on the chair next to her, and they're both just looking at me. Total silence. Actual crickets chirping.

"Uh, so… what's your name?"

"Me?" The lady responded.

"Yeah."

"My name is Biologist, and… I'd like to apologize."