Personal Headcanon that Tim Broke the Power by Microwaving a Burrito-

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As promised, it had been exactly a week. Except, it was midday. Jon was mid-statement when the door appeared. He didn’t notice, focused on reading out the paper before himself.

“..and I walked down the staircase. It seemed to get colder and colder as I kept on walking. After long enough, you could see the ice forming against the walls, coating the stairs with a slick shine. Now I remind you, this was supposed to just be a wine cellar. In all of the years I’d worked at that winery, the storage rooms had never gone that deep, or were that cold... I don’t remember anything after that. They apparently found me passed out, bruised from sliding down the stairs. I haven’t been back there sin-” 

A door opened, causing the reading to abruptly stop. Jon knew that brightness from anywhere, even out of the corner of his eye. Michael. He decided to continue, attempting to ignore the creature approaching his desk.

“-since the incident. I quit as soon as I regained consciousness. Everyone told me I should sue, but what could I tell them? I slipped down a staircase that doesn’t exist? Either way, I ended up moving to a house with one floor. I've also done some research on the old winery. They’ve had five other employees disappear in the last twenty years. All in the winter, just like when I went down. Looking back, i’m extremely lucky they even found me. And that’s my story.. statement ends.”

As soon as those last two words were uttered, Michael began talking. “I told you I’d be back!”

“Yes, I could hear you come in.” He reached to turn off the recorder, but two fingers blocked him. “Michael, the recording is over.”

“No, it isn’t,” It actually didn’t know what it was going to do. Michael tapped its fingers on the table, each impact creating an odd tap. It sounded like an animal scratching at a door, waiting to be let in. A little unnerving, but Jon ignored it well enough.

He sighed, looking across. Michael had brought itself to sit across two chairs, legs draped over one. “Why?”

“Why not, Archivist? Does a songbird sing for only itself? Or, does it sing for others to hear?” The tapping had stopped, and it looked over at Jon. Its eyes were a twisted blur. Painful to look at, even harder to find expression in.

Not these goddamn games again. He decided to just go along for the time being. “..fine. sure. If you really want to ramble on, I'm getting a new tape. recording ends.”  He stood up, having to go put the recording and statement away. Michael followed. The organization system had changed since Michael Shelley had worked here. It wasn’t like it wanted it to be organized, though.

Jon had gotten a new tape, now recording. He wondered why Michael was so insistent on being on tape, but didn’t question it. He understood the worry of being forgotten or lost. Maybe losing your sense of self as an avatar made that feeling worse. He'd find out eventually.

“Do you know what the corridors really look like? I don’t think you’ve truly been in them. Only the passageways.. Speaking of corridors-, everyone who survives them assumes so many wrong things. I don’t eat people.. that would just be wrong. Michael Shelley was a human. That would be quite disrespectful to him..”

They were walking while it rambled. He occasionally asked questions. The eye picked up whenever Michael was getting lost with its words, and it felt almost natural to guide the avatar into continuing its talk. “Do you even actually eat?”

“That’s a stupid question, of course I do. I don’t have to, but I can. and, I do. If I truly wanted, I could feed on the marked up minds of those who cannot believe what they see. I only do that to those who die in my corridors, though. It isn't that hygenic to have a body rotting inside yourself.. but, like I said, I only consume the spirit. the rest is just. How do I put it-. it goes to the Spiral as a whole.” It ran a hand through its hair, looking down at the man with the recorder. Michael couldn’t help but wonder how Jon would adjust to the later stages of being an avatar. “..sometimes I take the bodies for myself, I suppose. there’s people that I like to taunt with the excess bones.”

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