<img src="https://wearyrains.neocities.org/game material/IFs/patient31/titlecard.png">
<<if $warning>>
[[START->CONTENT WARNINGS]]
[[CREDIT]]
<<else>>
[[START->AreYouSure]]
[[CREDIT]]
<</if>>
Programming/Art/Characters/Writing: Wearyrains/PIB
Submission for NaNoRenO 2024
Special Thanks to:
Twine
EZGif
& You!
[[RETURN->TITLE]]
"...Are you sure you want to check up on him?"
[["I'm positive."]]
[["On second thought..."]]
"Well, if you're sure." The voice crackled from the other end of the flip phone. "You've only been here for a few months, and like..."
A shuffling of papers. A sniffle, and a huff.
"...This guy's documents update like, every other day... It's crazy. Low Danger, High Danger, Need To...—"
More shuffling. You can hear someone in the office getting yelled at a few cubicles down. Even miles out from work, the company-provided cellphone still smelled of dollar store cleaner and masculine, overcompensating cologne. Wooden notes stabbed at your nose through the cold air no matter how fast you walked.
"Well!" You can hear some papers slip out of his grasp. In your mind's eye, you could easily imagine how grimy his sweat-slicked hands were. Made you glad you were outside.
"If you can handle it! You signed a waiver."
"I can." Your voice wavered in reply. "...I will."
"Riiiight."
Flick-flick-flick. Pristine sheets of white, brimming with classified information set aside once more. The click of an unsheathed pen.
"Are you en route? I'm not gonna put your location on file without back up..."
[[Yes.]]
[[Why be honest with this guy?]]
"Ugh." The man sighed. "Listen— I know you're new but we cannot have indecesives on this job. Okay? I'm sending security and a doc that can actually do their job there now. Just hang tight."
Your heart dropped. "Wait," you gasped. "Wait, wait no, I didn-"
"Do not interact." He continued plainly. "I am witholding responsiblity for any injury or harm that comes to you from hereon."
"Can you please just let me expla—"
Discussion of further consequences will be held upon return to the office."
"Damn it! Wait!"
[[Goodbye.->Ending1]]<<set $security to true>>
"Perfect, perfect. I'll send security out to wait outside the patient's house. 31, right?"
"Yes. Anything else?"
Click. A firm one, too firm. Click-click.
"You are snip...Ugh, whatever. Whatever. I'm trying to help you. Listen? Word of advice, Miss... This guy can tell you're tense so you better loosen up."
"I know. I'm aware..."
"Sure you do." He snapped. "Look." You envsioned him wiping a sweat-curtained brow.
"This is just a check-up. You hear me? Get in, get out, don't make it a big thing. Let's make it just security waiting outside and not the paramedics. Got it?"
[["Yes sir."->Door]]"I'm still on break." You reply. "I'll inform when en route. Schedule security at my call, please."
Another sigh. You could smell the wintermint mouth wash. "If you say so, boooosss." He'd reply sarcastically. "[[Your call->Door]], not mine."
<img src="https://wearyrains.neocities.org/game material/IFs/patient31/door.png">
Tucked in the nook of some library, a long stairway beckons you further down.
You've no guide of any overhead lights. Nonetheless, you don't miss the dim light trickling out, licking at the unswept floor from underneath the doorframe.
[[Knock.]]
<img src="https://wearyrains.neocities.org/game material/IFs/patient31/door.png">
Knock.
Knock.
Knock-knock.
Knock.
You stop. A hand moved inward, sliding down the bridge of your nose. Despite the air, you feel like you're right back in the office. With the stuffy cologne substituting for oxygen, the broken air-conditioner just serving as another drab accessory. You found it hard to breathe.
'Loosen up.' his words echoed.
[[Knock.->Door creak]]<img src="https://wearyrains.neocities.org/game material/IFs/patient31/door2.png">
<<timed 2s>>
[[Go in.]]
<</timed>><img src="https://wearyrains.neocities.org/game material/IFs/patient31/tvroom.png">
You close the door behind you.
The room hasn't changed, according to documents and photos. Spick and span.
You lift your phone. An identical picture for the books. A loud camera shutter filled the silent room. Like clockwork, in the phone returned to the safety of your pocket.
You look around.
"31?" You call. There's no answer.
[[Wait Patiently]]
[[Check Kitchen]]
[[Check TV Stand]]
<img src="https://wearyrains.neocities.org/game material/IFs/patient31/tvroom.png">
You decide to wait. There's no clock. You check your flip phone periodically.
5:04 pm.
5:07 pm.
5:11 pm.
[[5-|MeetAfterWait]]
<<set $kitchen to true>>
<img src="https://wearyrains.neocities.org/game material/IFs/patient31/lollipop.png">
You venture down the hall into the kitchen. Click. Another photo for the books.
The fridge is just empty. Just milk. It went out on March 28th.
There's a small jar on the empty bar countertop. Filled to the brim with the lollipops.
Orange, blueberry...No red.
[[Return->MeetAfterKitchen]]
<<set $tv to true>>
<img src="https://wearyrains.neocities.org/game material/IFs/patient31/polka.png">
Just a single ordinary book underneath the TV stand. Flipping it inside you see it's borrowed from the library. The date of borrowing has long since yellowed and faded.
[[Return|MeetAfterTV]]
Making your way back into the main room, you were started to grow worried.
Reports of his kitchen the last time hailed similar, albeit slightly more stocked results.
Did the nurses who come out just not care?
Ugh. Alone in this room, with the lack of furniture, you were truly starting to feel isolated.
With the absence of a clock you felt like the more you stayed in here the more you'd
begin to rot, decay. Your mind [[spoiling->MeetAfterWait]], just like the milk in the fridge. <img src="https://wearyrains.neocities.org/game material/IFs/patient31/nurse.png">
<<timed 3s>>
[[...Mister-]]
<</timed>>
<img src="https://wearyrains.neocities.org/game material/IFs/patient31/taylor.png">
[["...Taylor?"]]<<set $behindyou to false>>
<<set $kitchen to false>>
<<set $tv to false>>
<<set $security to false>>
<<set $name to "Jeane">>
<<set $reachanyendbut1 to false>>
<<set $freckles to false>>
<<set $warning to true>><img src="https://wearyrains.neocities.org/game material/IFs/patient31/yourenew.gif">
"You're new."
Spinning upon your heel, you eye the man up and down. He looks ... Dishevelled.
He was actually dressed properly now, but his hair was frazzled. His physical appearance unkept. None of the documents mentioned him looking this worn.
"Mr. Taylor?" You began.
"Ms..." His voice trailed off. "Ms, Ms, Mssssss..."
"Ms. <<textbox "$name" "Jeane">>." You informed. "I'll be your nurse for today."
He tilted his head to the side. His clothes reeked of an old fabric; mildrew and lilies; an elders aroma.
Documentation only mentioned similar fashion in passing, but never on his person. Said he'd been making clothes, but had been wearing the gown he'd been discharged in for the last month. He was discharged in January.
"And the others?" He asked. His tone was low, airy. Almost like his voice died, like a flame snuffed by the chilled winds outside.
"They're doing [[quite well.->QuiteWell]] I'll tell them you asked about them."
<img src="https://wearyrains.neocities.org/game material/IFs/patient31/nurse backfacing.png">
"P-please don't."
A hand moved up to his chin, tapping rapidly at his lower lip. Sliding his gaze away from you, his breath was clearly uneven. His head would snap some to the side, twitching back into place.
"They're gonna think I'm needy, Ms. $name. Spike the rating, again. I don't want them doing that again."
"I know you don't, Taylor."
"So you won't tell them, right?"
"I won't."
"You won't, say it truly?"
"I will not tell them a word, Taylor."
Tapping, tapping, with all five fingers. His fingernails were overgrown. Dirt embedded under the nail. There's traces of dried red.
"...Yeah," he began. "Don't tell them a-anything. About what I said. Ms. $name."
[["What's with the blood?"->Blood]]
[[Don't cause further panic.->NoPanic]]
"How are you feeling, Taylor."
"...Fine." He'd answer. "...Lots of sewing projects done. Lots of lovely clothes, fine attire.
I've been a very busy bee."
"So you have."
"Yes."
Another awkward silence. Your eyes trail around the room again. You mentally remind yourself this isn't the house of patient 04, but 31. You don't even see patient 04.
"Ms. $name?"
Hands. Clutching yours up to his chest, you're brought back into the current time. He's ice cold.
"Ms. $name, what size clothes do you wear?" He asked. "I would like to sew you together a shirt...What size shirt do you wear, Ms. $name?"
"Ahh..."
[[Wriggle your fingers out, answer.->AnswerWriggle]]
[[Give answers.]]<img src="https://wearyrains.neocities.org/game material/IFs/patient31/blood.png">
The tapping stopped. Turning those dried eyes back to you, he'd stare at you mindlessly.
You noted the light red rims around his eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept.
"[["Blood?"->BloodOnFingers]]" He mouthed.
"On your fingers."
<<if $kitchen>>
Leading him back in to the kitchen, it's only when you wander back into the room when you recall Taylor's only got lollipops and the spoiled milk in his fridge.
Giving way to a sigh, you turn a round to meet his gaze, setting you bag atop the counter. You fished out a blood pressure cup from within.
"I'm gonna take your vitals now, Taylor. Try not to move." You instruct. Your lips soon quivered.
"And would you...Be interested in me ordering takeout after that?"
"Why takeout?" He questioned.
"Well...You don't have anything in here to make a sandwich, do you?" You tilted your eyes briefly toward him, before lowering back down to focus on wrapping the cuff around his wrist. "I don't want to waste any time running out to the store."
"It...Sounds like a waste of time to begin with."
"What did you just say about eating, Taylor?"
He remained silent.
Waiting until he was sure he would not speak, you continued. "...And you don't have to worry, I'll tell whoever's bringing it to stop by the library and all you have to do is stay inside. You won't have to talk to anybody."
"I can eat. I can eat. I can eat, $name. I don't need food. Ms. $name. Look." Taylor stated. Grabbing the old lollipop jar, he would upturn it, beginning to devour jar, sticks and all. All, until the jar slipped from his grasp, shattering in a million pieces across the floor.
[["..."->glass shattered]]
<<else>>
Leading him back in to the kitchen, one quick look inside the fridge revealed only a gallon of spoiled milk. Flies circled merrily around the lid. Even then, it'd appeared it'd barely been touched. Saving yourself from the rancid smell, you turned the bar counter. Just an old mason jar, littered with lollipops. Lots of different colors save for red.
Giving way to a sigh, you turn a round to meet his gaze, setting you bag atop the counter. You fished out a blood pressure cup from within.
"I'm gonna take your vitals now, Taylor. Try not to move." You instruct.
"And would you...Be interested in me ordering takeout after that?"
"Why takeout?"
"Well...You don't have anything in here to make a sandwich, do you?" You tilted your eyes briefly toward him, before lowering back down to focus on wrapping the cuff around his wrist. "I don't want to waste any time running out to the store."
"It...Sounds like a waste of time to begin with."
"Eating's very important to our bodies." You explained. "Our...Normal bodies."
Waiting until he was sure he would not speak, you continued. "...And you don't have to worry, I'll tell whoever's bringing it to stop by the library and all you have to do is stay inside. You won't have to talk to anybody."
"I can eat. I can eat. I can eat, $name. I don't need food. Look." Taylor stated. Grabbing the old lollipop jar, he would upturn it, beginning to devour jar, sticks and all. All, until the jar slipped from his grasp, shattering in a million pieces across the floor.
[["..."->glass shattered]]
<</if>>
<img src="https://wearyrains.neocities.org/game material/IFs/patient31/ENDING1.png">
[[Ending 1: Torn the Seams->TITLE]]
<img src="https://wearyrains.neocities.org/game material/IFs/patient31/wriggle.png">
"Taylor, please—" You wrangled your fingers out of his grasp. His hands remained at his chest regardless of your absence. You take a moment to catch your breath.
"Taylor, you don't... I'm a medium-size, Taylor. But let's try not to ask people their shirt sizes out of nowhere, okay?"
"Why not?" He asked.
"Because..." You trailed off, trying to articulate the words.
"When the office deems you cured, you can't approach someone and talk to them like that. Nobody should, regardless of if they were in the same spot you've been."
"They said I [[wouldn't]] be cured, Ms. $name.""Medium." You replied. His grip didn't loosen. Trailing your gaze from his hands back up to his face, you soon spoke again.
"Can I see some of your new clothes, Taylor?"
"You want to see it? Ms. $name?" He asked. You nodded more frantically than you would've liked.
"I'd like to see, yes. Of course!"
"Hoorayyy."
Finally releasing your hands, he turned turned away from you to trudge toward the doorway. You found yourself wringing your wrist. Your palms felt like they'd been pierced by small, tiny needles.
You noticed his limp. The previous report mentioned him having just started to walk like that as of last meeting. Inspection showed no visible injuries or evidence of twists in the ankle. Yet, if you strained yourself long enough, you could hear silver drag against the floor.
"Just wait here, Ms. $name. I'll fetch my catalogue."
So you [[wait.->notcomingback]]You furrowed your brows. "What do you mean?"
"The last doctor who raised my rating told me lots of nasty things. Told me I'm a walking plague in human skin — oh," he'd throw his hands up lightly, shuffling around to your side. "All these terrible things you don't tell someone else." He'd go on. "Hurt me. Hurt me a lot, Ms. $name."
He circled partway around you. His eyes stared blankly on. "Hurt me so much I wanted to try harder. I dunno how it works... Because I'm just wearing the skin, I guess."
"Taylor," you say, forcing your eyes to meet. "Everyone under my office's care can be cured. Everyone. There are just some..." You trailed off. Thoughts off the rails, forcing makeshift trails off the dirt paths.
"Just some doctors here who do not deserve the authority they've been given. Who said that to you?"
"He's not here anymore."
Your mouth opened ajar. You knew it was best not to agitate him. Before you could offer any sort of response, a small smile crossed the man's lips.
""Ms $name." He'd explained.. "I was asking for the shirt size to try and be polite. Like a person does. "I think I can see your measurements just fine, actually. 13.75 - 15.25 - 23.5 inches for the shirt."
"Is that small...?" He'd ask. You're really small for a medium Ms. $name."
You feel your body stiffen.
"Aha-haaaa." He laughed.
<<if $security>>
You [[prayed]] security was outside.
<<else>>
You [[regret->prayed]] lying to the operator.
<</if>>
<<if $tv>>
<img src="https://wearyrains.neocities.org/game material/IFs/patient31/tvroom2.png">
<<else>>
<img src="https://wearyrains.neocities.org/game material/IFs/patient31/tvroom.png">
<</if>>
<<timed 3s>>
[[He's been gone for awhile.]]
<</timed>>
<img src="https://wearyrains.neocities.org/game material/IFs/patient31/tvroom3.png">
<<timed 3s>>
You're knocking and there's [[no answer]]
<</timed>>
<img src="https://wearyrains.neocities.org/game material/IFs/patient31/tvroom5.png">
<<timed 2s>>
the room's feeling colder. You don't know where the exits are. If there was an [[exit]] at all
<</timed>><<if $tv>>
<img src="https://wearyrains.neocities.org/game material/IFs/patient31/tvroom4.png">
oh dearest anna
I doubt you would've ever thought that your little footwork
would repeat on the heels of the ballrooms of prague
painting your lifelihood anew
hand it over to mask the poor life you'd hailed from
pretty colors and dances, anna.
a beautiful dress brushes the floor of the blood on the concrete
Peasant names lost to time.
So irrelevant
but onlookers love the dresses and the dances, anna.
If they love you enough they'll wash the [[blood off your hem.->Ending2B]]
<<else>>
<img src="https://wearyrains.neocities.org/game material/IFs/patient31/tvroom5.png">
So COLD
so DEAD?
Is this the prison of home?
Your face is burning.
He's not coming back.
Your lungs fill with mildew.
And you feel each and every freckle on your face being stabbed
like a [[needle->Ending2A]] to a pincushion.
<</if>><<set $reachanyendbut1 to true>>
ENDING 2B
you can't go wrong with polka and pretty dress
[[Return->TITLE]]<<set $reachanyendbut1 to true>>
<<set $freckles to true>>
<<if $nomore>>
<<set $freckles to false>>
<</if>>
ENDING 2A
Stitches & Sinew
<<if $nomore>>
[[Return->TITLE]]
<<else>>
[[RETURN->freckles]]
<</if>>
<<timed 5s>>
"There's so many."
<<timed 3s>>
"You had 255 freckles on your face Ms. $name."
<<timed 2s>>
"That's a lot..."
<<timed 3s>>
"102..."
<<timed 2s>>
"103..."
<<timed 2s>>
"104..."
<</timed>>
<</timed>>
<</timed>>
<</timed>>
<</timed>>
<</timed>>
"Say, Ms. $name ..." That raspy voice would begin again.
"Is anyone with you?" He'd asked. <<timed 4s>>"Outside?"<</timed>>
<<if $security>>
<<timed 4s>>
"Er..."
<<timed 2s>>
[[Lie]]
[[Tell the Truth]]
<</timed>>
<</timed>>
<<else>>
[["Er..."->Tell the Truth]]
<</if>>
<img src="https://wearyrains.neocities.org/game material/IFs/patient31/tvroom2.png">
Alone in this room, with the lack of furniture, you were truly starting to feel isolated.
Just a dusty TV and the bookshelf. Not even a couch. Did he watch TV on the floor?
Nothing ever looked off about the rug. You remember two different reports saying he took impeccable care of it; vaccuumed and cleaned, everything. The library book, despite all its wear, was taken care of as well. Reports and pictures show it to be the only book
he's ever had in here.
[[Where was he?->MeetAfterWait]]"Everybody needs some form of security." He replied. "Shouldn't go around... Without a means to defend yourself, Ms. $name."
"You're very right about that, Taylor."
"Thick skin."
"...Hm?"
"You have thick skin. Tough skin. You're brave." He'd describe, his eyes no longer focusing on you. You followed his movements. Your breath hitched.
"Thank you, Taylor."
"Thank you, Taylor."
"...Oh," you extended a hand toward him. "Taylor, I'm $name."
Taylor blinked. Slow. Cat-like.
"...Ah." He'd reply. A trickle of black.
"...I wonder if I could give the dress I wanna make you scales?"
And before you've time to answer, there's a searing pain [[cracking->skull]] at the back of your skull.
"I've requested security, as per company protocol, yes."
"Ah." Taylor began. "You're taking good safety measures. That's good, Ms. $name."
"Yes. It's not because of you though, Taylor. It's only company procedure."
"Procedure because of the diseases that walk in human skin, right?" He'd ask. The corners of his lips twitched upward into a forced smile.
"No, Taylor. It's not that at all."
Taylor sucked in air through his teeth. He sounded pained. Tapping resumed. Up his forearm, up his collarbone, kalimba fingers tapping up the surface of imitative skin.
"I often wonder that if I was not in this body, $name," He began, turning his turned head away from $name.
"If the people waiting outside, the people who you say will protect you would be out there or in here." He spoke quietly to himself, his words almost a whisper underneath his breath.
"You people pretty up everything for you pretty people up a sense at appealing to the desires of your neighbor. So confined, you feel, to conform to the wants of what others wish to see, you succumb. You stop fighting."
Your head was growing foggy.
Blurred. Stoning your medial pallium. Stretched apart. Kalimbas on your skin, kalimbas on your skin. Streeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeetched like red strings on a board.
"Taylor, perhaps you should take a seat—" Extending a hand out, you make the [[mistake]] of reaching in too abruptly.<<timed 2s>>
no
<<timed .5s>>
no
<<timed .5s>>
no
<<timed 1s>>
i cna't stop the bleedingg no
<<timed 1s>>
nononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononono
<<timed .5s>>
<<goto liar>>
<</timed>>
<</timed>>
<</timed>>
<</timed>>
<</timed>>
<</timed>>
"I thought you were different."
<<timed 3s>>
<<goto Ending3>>
<</timed>>
<<set $reachanyendbut1 to true>>
ENDING 3: SNAKE
[[Return->TITLE]]<!-- ART: (GIF) JUST JEANE LOOKING DOWN AT A BUSTER UP ARM, HORRIFIED-->
<<timed 3s>>
"Oh, look at what I've done again! I gave you a whole new scar to worry about."
<<timed 2s>>
"Some people must really not like your scars,, Ms. $name. I don't. But that's the [[way it is,]] isn't it?
<<timed 3s>>
<</timed>>
<</timed>>
<</timed>>
<!-- ART: Taylor holding Jeane-->
<<timed 3s>>
"I'll patch you up, Ms. I promise. I promise. I promise. It's just gonna take a needle. Just a small poke, I promise. I promise I didn't mean to tear you apart. I promise. I promise you'll be fine. I promise."
<<timed 7s>>
<<goto Ending4>>
<</timed>>
<</timed>>
<<set $reachanyendbut1 to true>>
ENDING 4: Authentically Torn
<<timed 3.5s>>
"If something happens, I'll make you a dress to grieve over, Ms. $name. I'll make sure it's medium."
<</timed>>
[[Return->TITLE]]Stricken down to the floor, there's a long snap of the measuring tape. A serpent in its own right, Taylor unfurled the long line of measuring tape. Raspy numbers spewed from a dry tongue. Through blurred vision you can only see the yellow.
"13.75...15.25..." He gasped. You opened your mouth to speak, but you couldn't. He'd snap the tape shut. Didn't need it. Didn't need it. Eyes leering over your figure, he'd crouch down.
"15.25...23.5..." He estimated. Kissing thumb and forefingers together, he would pry them apart, a makeshift photograph of your visage.
A long nail traced line across your neck.
"13 inches."
He'd seize the tape out again. A flash of yellow.
Then [[black.->cracking]]The both of you standing still at the broken vase, at the very least cleaned of all of its contents.
Glancing briefly up to gauge his face, staring blankly down at the floor, you looked around.
"T...Taylor do you have a broom?"
"No broom, Ms. $name." He'd reply. "Just sewing needles and fabric..."
"Do you at least have a trash can?" You asked, crouching down. "Something to put this in?"
Noting how gloss he was to the glass, you'd give the lightest shoos, waving him away. "Don't come any closer , you'll get hurt."
"Trash can...?" He asked. "Ohh...I think I may have [[something]] like that."Your shoe felt [[entangled.]] Like knots.Wrapped around in thick strips of black, circling hooking your feet, you found yourself unable to keep your balance. Your palms tore against the sharp glass. Wincing out in pain, you panic. Your chest heaved, frantically worsening the pain as new gashes formed. Shards nestled in your skin. Entangled, black veins joined across one hand. Pieces caught in the crossfire inadvertenly.
Reaching your hand up at Taylor, the man would [[grab your wrist.]] "Ohhhh...This is why you thought I had blood on my fingers, Ms. $name."
Your vision blurring in tears, you'd try to grab at him. Whimpering, groaning, yelling his name.
"Maybe I will [[eat something]], actually."
Bared silver. Straight to the seams of your skin.<!-- ART = GIF(?) = TAYLOR EATS YOUR FUCKING HAND !!!!!!!-->
<<goto Ending5>><<set $reachanyendbut1 to true>>
ENDING 5
Quick Meals at Home
[[Return->TITLE]]<img src="https://wearyrains.neocities.org/game material/IFs/patient31/blood2.png">
Bringing his hands out, he'd study his hand, rolling his wrist around to scour every inch as if surveying a manicure.
"...I was eating." He replied. "And it got all over me."
<<if $kitchen>>
"A lollipop?" You question.
"...Yeah..." He'd sigh, lowering his hands in defeat.
"That's not really eating, Taylor." You inform him. "You should eat more."
"Eating is <<timed 11s>> what we do. In houses. I think you are right."<</timed>>
"That's very good, Taylor. [[Exactly.->BackToKitchen]]"
<<else>>
"What were you eating?" You'd ask.
"Lollipop. A red one." He'd reply plainly. He extended a hand toward the kitchen.
"You can look in the kitchen I have a whole jar filled with them-"
"I believe you, Taylor." You replied. "But you should get more in your stomach besides lollipops, you know. Come on, you look [[exhausted.->BackToKitchen]]"
<</if>>
<<set $warning to false>>
Warning!
This game contains light written gore with implied body horror, mental deterioration and disease.
If you are upset or easily disturbed by these topics, please do not play this game.
Please stay safe and take care of yourself!
[[Continue->AreYouSure]]
<<set $nomore to true>>
<<if $freckles>>
<img src="https://wearyrains.neocities.org/game material/IFs/patient31/freckles.png">
<<timed 2s>>
<<goto TITLE>>
<</timed>>
<<else>>
<<goto TITLE>>
<</if>>