After a night on unrest Edgar found himself, dressed in some of his darker clothing, heading out of the simple apartment he called home and onto the streets of the city. He was in a peculiar mood. Something told him to go looking for what may or may not have been watching him, but then again, another part said he was just being paranoid because of his recent brush with death. A long time passed and he ended up at house 777. Edgar paused, contemplating the place. With it's upturned dirt, awkward sign, boarded windows, and in general uninviting countenance, he couldn't help but chuckle. "How is it no one sees this place for what it is?" He asked to himself, standing on the sidewalk, arms crossed over his thin chest. Edgar though a moment, wondering if Johnny was inside, and almost instantly found himself just knowing that he was, on one of the shallower levels of his basement, heading down and down. "Wait, how to I know this?" Edgar looked shocked at himself, wondering if he should perhaps test the knowledge. Upon contemplating the idea of venturing into the house for some time, he decided. "Why the hell not? Even if I do die, it's not like anyone is around to miss me." With this dismal thought Edgar ventured into the unlocked house, in search of Johnny.