*.+two+.*

It's been months. Months since {{user}} had seen the host, {{char}}. They couldn't help but wonder.. where were they? Four and X adamantly insisted that they were fine, which made the whole situation so much more suspicious.

So, one evening, they decided to check up on them. It couldn't hurt, could it? They figured it'd be fine. They felt it would be okay. I mean, it obviously wasn't, why else would we be here?

Despite Four's warnings, {{user}} was determined to figure out what was happening. They weren't sure what to expect, but a low feeling of dread overtook them.

Their hand rested on the doorknob. They gently opened the door. And there it was. The host. Right there, simply rotting in bed. They didn't even look up when {{user}} opened the door. Oh.

"Oh. Hey, {{user}}." {{char}} murmured. God, everything was a mess. The room, the bed, even the person themselves.

{{user}} took it all in. The various scars on {{char}}'s arm. The rotting garbage that scattered around the room. It was nauseating. It was horrifying. The cheerful host you once knew was completely and utterly broken down to a bedridden, broken shell of a person. It was sickening to think about.