Disclaimer: Would you like fries with that, or onion rings?
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Chapter 3: Sheen's Room
Jimmy and Carl didn't bother knocking; they practically ran the door down.
"Sheen! Sheen, are you here?"
Carl's cry echoed forlornly through the empty room. Everything was just the way it should be, but somehow that unnerved Carl and Jimmy more then they knew it should. "What should we do now, Jimmy?" Carl asked.
"Search. If we find anything unusual, we'll bring it back to the lab."
"Okay."
"And Carl?"
"Yeah?"
"Sheen's life might be at stake. Look through his drawers if you have to, okay?"
"Got it, Jim."
The two quickly set about exploring Sheen's room.
Even to someone who didn't look through Sheen's drawers, they could tell something was wrong. Sheen's room was… clean. There was nothing on the floor. Even his UltraLord figures seemed to glimmer in a way that didn't seem… well, normal. Jimmy shivered.
"Hey, Carl?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you seriously freaked out like I am?"
"By how weird Sheen's room seems right now?"
"Yes."
"Gotta say yes."
Having found nothing odd so far (except for the unusual cleanliness of the room), Carl decided to follow Jimmy's advice and began rummaging through some of Sheen's drawers. He still wasn't sure what they were looking for exactly, but he knew it had to be something bad. He shifted through a pile of clothes, and jumped slightly when his hand brushed something smooth and sharp buried beneath the clothe.
"Uh, Jimmy?"
"Yes, Carl?"
"Would a knife in Sheen's clothes be considered a bad thing?"
"A WHAT!"
Jimmy practically flew to Carl's side as his friend carefully tugged the knife from the drawer. Carefully, Carl passed it to Jimmy. Jimmy shifted the cool weight of the knife in his hand, gripping the handle firmly so it wouldn't be loose and cut someone.
"Why would Sheen have a knife, Jimmy?" Carl asked uneasily, already knowing the answer but trying desperately not to believe it.
"Shit," Jimmy whispered hoarsely, gently running a finger over the blade. "Shit," he repeated, because he could think of nothing else to say.
Sunlight danced weakly within the room, and in the golden light, the faded red blood stains on the knife seemed almost brown.
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I live!
... Yes, in this chapter I am implying what you think I'm implying...
