(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/6557dd01-d466-4b53-a243-f2aa3370203a_zpsec287b1f.jpg)<br/><br/>Duncan was still turning the book round and round in his hand, a glass of Jack Daniels in the other as a half-drunken bottle was off to the left, sitting on his desk.  He knew that drinking probably wasn't the best idea now, but he needed to slow down all the thoughts in his head, and whiskey was good for that.  He took a small, slow breath, and opened the diary again.<br/><br/>Somehow, the events of the day had been added to the diary.  Once again, it was in red ink, and once again, it was in his handwriting, and finally, once again, he didn't remember writing any of it down.  Essentially, one of four things was going on.  He was either writing in the diary and not remembering; somebody was fucking with him in an incredibly skillfull way; he was going insane; or, somehow, the diary was writing itself.<br/><br/>Duncan wasn't really a believer in ghosts, but he was also humble enough to understand that he didn't know everything in the universe either, so he didn't want to take the supernatural off the table.  If he was blacking out, this would be a first time alcohal wasn't involved and he had never heard of a case like this before.  It was possible somebody was playing a joke, but Duncan didn't have a clue who it was, or how they could pull it off so well, as it would have to mean somebody was following him around, retrieving or switching the diary without him knowing, AND matching his handwriting to perfection and Duncan couldn't imagine ever doing anything that deserved that much time and effort dedicated to himself by anybody.  The possibility of him going insane was going insane was  (sadly) something he couldn't take off the table either, though it was a little too early for him to be jumping to that conclusion.<br/><br/>Duncan had an educated mind, and so, he would come at this from an educated approach.  He had already looked at all four possibilities, as he saw them.  Now, he had to try and rule each one of them out, one by one, and see where that got him.  Of course, that was easier then said then done for some of them.  He had decided to try and put the diary in a secure location, and see if that settled things.  Before coming him today, he had bought a small wooden box with a latch he could use a padlock on.  He had then given the key to his neighbor.  Well, it was time to test this theory.<br/><br/>Taking the diary, Duncan wrapped it first in seran wrap (just incase somebody did pick the lock) and then placed the book inside the small box.  He snapped the padlock on, and just to make extra sure nobody could get to it without noticing, he placed the box under his pillow.  That should just about do it.  Laying down in the bed (he was still fully dressed) Duncan closed his eyes and went to sleep.<br/><br/>********<br/><br/>When Duncan woke up, he instantly knew he wasn't in his bed.  It felt like the floor, but the room was pitch black.  Reaching into his pocket, Duncan drew out his zippo flashlight and flicked the flintwheel until an orange/yellow flame illuminated the room.  It was spacious, and it looked old.  Getting to his feet, Duncan began to look around his new suroundings, trying to see what he could see and figure out how he got here.