Neither are we, [ Matt says, with a distracted flick of his fingers to indicate himself. ] I don't think.

[ He looks back to Erik, his expression resolving from "they said if I didn't calculate the square root of pi they'd shoot my dog" to a look of almost sorrow. Almost guilt. ]

It's a long story, [ he says, ] but ... basically, another guest and I went down to the kitchens to try and get some answers about the weird shit going on. Most people wouldn't talk to us, but one girl said this kind of thing happens "all the time," which to me implies ... you know. Maybe there were guests before the batch of us came a few weeks ago. We just never got to meet them.