Why the hell this was bugging him so much he couldn't rightly say.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">"So this is what has everyone petrified? To think I was afraid to come in here myself..."</span><br/><br/>He let the comment go as best he could. The jackass hadn't seen what he had--hell, he wasn't even sure<span style="font-style: italic">he'd</span>seen what he had. Either way, as he stood behind the desk and watched the phone, he tried to pin down what it was that was creeping him out about the whole thing. It might have been that the last time he stuck his neck out, he'd gotten a flash of Gallagher Goes to Med School. It might have been something about how the room hadn't been used in God knows how long. It might just have been because it was a scary goddamn house, where windows didn't break and hallways seemed terrifying and there wasn't a way out...<br/><br/>"Fuck." He muttered again, trying to sound dispassionate about it this time before reaching down and picking up the phone with an almost casual motion, like he was calling to reschedule his lunch. Sorry, dear, I won't be able to make it by 11, the front door won't open. Yes, I tried the lock.<br/><br/>He brought the phone to his ear and tried not to feel foolish as he popped the receiver. He didn't expect a dial tone, but for some reason he expected... something. This all wasn't some stupid coincidence, it wasn't like this sort of thing just<span style="font-style: italic">happened</span>. Something was going on here, and he was beginning to feel more and more like there was something to it. The door hadn't just opened on its own, and something<span style="font-style: italic">had</span>fallen over.<br/><br/>"Are you there, House? It's me, Michael." He muttered under his breath with a quiet snort, trying not to feel so ridiculous as he jammed his other hand into his pocket. With no affirmation one way or another, he would put it down and move on to other conquests.