A Dimly Lit Attic
The attic's air is harder to breathe through your ventilator mask than the rest of the cabin. The attic is mostly empty apart from a desk sitting just below the circular window looking out the front of the house as you reach it.
There's less of that neon-colored fungus here and a strange sag in the center of the attic where the weight of something heavy sat atop it at one point. You step around it, fearing it may not be able to support your weight.
You know you aren't welcome here. You climbed up the ladder without asking.
Sticky notes with scrawled writing cling to the wall behind the desk. There are several empty energy drink cans on the desk and the laptop is open to a browser you don't recognize with some strange URL made up of jumbled letters at the top. The site looks like something the person who was looking at it wasn't supposed to see.
You swear for a moment you could hear a low guttural growl shake the room.
