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Zachary I: Haunted by the past
Zachary "Zach" Steele
Birthdate: March 20, Pisces; 31 Years Old
Height: 6'0” (183 cm)
Occupation: Freelance Photographer
Nationality: American
Religion: Agnostic
Education: Diploma in Digital Film
Likes: pie, photography and filmography, documentaries, cooking, acoustic guitar, video games
Before his parents' death, he lived in New Jersey where his family owned a diner and bakery. He and his older sister were orphaned due to a hate crime, and they were forced to move to England where their grandparents lived.
He had loved cooking and helping out with their old diner, but grew lazy and disinterested after the incident. It did not help that he was one of the few blacks in a predominantly white community at the time.
His passion for the visual arts was sparked when he found old polaroids and home movies of his parents. Freelancing helped pay his rent, but the man had long set his sights on the indie film scene.
It was during the creation of his first documentary that a robbery occurred and Ashton was there to investigate. Being in the wrong place at the wrong time led to Zachary being placed as a suspect, but the rookie detective helped him clear his name.
Music: BGM Rebecca Theme
(*theme humming in the background*)
Yo, i hate to grind this update to a halt when it hasn't even really started yet, but i need to get this off my chest.
See that background humming playing up there for this little dream sequence? This is supposed to be someone humming the Main Theme of the game, which you hear in the menu and is quite a decent little tune. Here, i'll give you a link:
Main Theme on YouTube
I say "supposed to", because it's barely recognizable. I get the main theme stuck in my head occasionally when i work on updates and pass through the menu a lot, but i can only tell that this is someone humming it due to the file name. It doesn't help that there's a different BGM playing over it.
I don't know who is humming this, but i get this vague urge to strangle them.
The pleasant aroma hits me long before I cross the threshold. Faint, but light and warm — a reminder of what home is: Pa's stern but commending gaze, Ma's tender smiles, the sunlight filtering through the eaves in the morning. And the distinct smell of cinnamon and vanilla as it drifts through the air every time something cooks from the room. The room, our room, Ma and Pa's pride and joy.
My sister and I, too, eventually. But we ain't allowed there. Not yet. Not until we're taller or older. Not until we've learned how to take care of ourselves, and not burn our hands, or reach the cupboards without having to be lifted.
But a little peek wouldn't hurt, yeah?
The floorboards are cold under my feet more than it usually is; the walls more forbidding than what I'm used to. Farther and farther, the room goes.
(*humming stops*)
Ma's singing ceases, and Pa...
So, the humming is his ma doing a little work tune.
I'll be good! I'll sleep on time! Don't go!
I can't hear Pa. Not above the raucous clanging and the deafening roar of gunshots, nor the screams replacing the comforting soft melodies. There is only the blinding fear.
(*drip*)
When my foot slips, the red sea that catches me is bitter and frigid, but the blood that drips in my hand is warm, warm, warm. It ain't my blood.
The walls tumble and everything goes quiet…
'October 25, Tuesday | Zachary's Room | Midnight'
Music: Ambience Room With AC
(*gasp*)
It takes a few moments for everything to fall into place, for my eyes to adjust to the relative darkness of the room. Despite the pleasant chill the AC brings, my shirt is clinging tightly to me, and my blanket a tangled mess around my throat. Morning has not even arrived, and yet...
Way too early for this thing, man...
And now we have a time and place for this. Let's turn back the clock once more. It's slightly after midnight, on an early morning of October 25. For reference, Isabella's route ended on the night of the 24th, so Zach's route starts right after Isabella's ends.
And too long. Too long since the last I've woken up drenched in my own sweat, head littered with thoughts that are gone as soon as my eyes open. All too often, only imprints and brief images are left to haunt me for the rest of the day, or until my mind forgets about it. Egad, whichever comes first.
Yet vivid or not, what little I can remember does not matter. Regardless, the desperation sticks — clawing up, pushing, urging me to relive every moment, every sensation and—
Music: BGM Rebecca Theme
(*theme humming in the background*)
Oh my lord, not againnnnn 
There's a twinkle in Ma's eyes when she looks up from her work, flour dusting her nose and cheeks. The scent of freshly-baked bread wafts from the oven as soon as Pa opens it, and the homely fragrance of honey fills the room. He reaches up to wipe the small beads of sweat away from his forehead before gesturing for me to come closer the moment he spots me on my little hiding place behind the door. I expected him to be angry, but his pat on my back when I come within his arm's reach is encouraging enough.
"We'll have to taste these first before we put it up for sale tomorrow. You up for it, little man? Is it good enough?"
(*humming stops, loud knocking*)
A knock cuts through the air before I can answer. Sharp, heavy, demanding, familiar. So distantly familiar.
Ma ushers me out the kitchen when Pa moves to answer it. But I know. I know what waits outside. The taste of blood in my mouth sends an unpleasant churning in my gut. Ma's apron crinkles under my tight grip—
Music: Ambience Room With AC
(*desperate knocking*)
Something snaps back into place. My bed remains in an utter disarray, the walls still need a new paint job, and the wall clock ticking opposite my bed is as unsettling as ever. Ash is right. I should have already replaced that when I had the chance.
You're no longer there, Zachary. Here and there are miles apart. Calm down. Breathe.
The pressure of my own fingers against my temple is a welcome sensation over the anxiety gripping me. It never really did anything to stave off the headache sure to follow after this before, but it grounds me.
A little reminder that I am safe, away from the place I once called home, from Ma and Pa's—
(*more desperate knocking*)
The urgency with each rap that follows finally chases away the ghosts threatening to hang around. Why anyone thinks it's a good idea to knock at someone else's door this late confuses me. Nana would chase them all away with a broom if she was here.
But no matter, it's a welcome break from the thoughts about to take a morbid turn if left festering. It's probably just Ash anyway, looking for a place to freeloa— crash. Looking for a place to crash. Wonder of wonders why he's bothering with the courtesy when he never did so before.
Even with that hunch, though, habit compels me to check who it is first through the peephole. Better safe than sorry, they say.
He really is the most sensible and capable person in this game.
Except the person that greets me on the other side ain't him. Unless his hair grew longer overnight and he started wearing a ponytail, of course, which I highly doubt will happen anytime soon, no matter how funny that looks in my head.
I waste no time opening the latches.
A Safe Haven - Let a friend stay over for the night
There's something I can't quite pinpoint in her eyes when she looks up. Her face a pallid shade, shoulders tense, breathing heavy, and an uncontrollable shaking in her hands she's trying to hold back. Hide, if I didn't know any better.
Ayyy, it's Isabella! We haven't seen her since... well, the end of her route, not counting the tiny cameo in Hannah's route.
He-Hey, Zach. Sorry, I— I know it's weird for me to show up at this hour, but you were the closest to my office and…
Yep, it's Isabella straight after her revelation and run-in with the ghost. We'll finally get to hear what she found out! 
No, no, no! It's perfectly fine! I'm not really working on anything right now. Do you want to come in?
Is it... Is it alright? I know you should be sleeping at this hour, but I thought... I'm sorry, I just thought... I have no idea why I went here. My feet just moved on its own after I got out of the office, and— and—
Sorry.
She trails off, her voice lost in the muggy night air. I wait for her to say more, but instead, her only response is a downward shift of her gaze; back to her still trembling hands as if the motion alone is enough of an explanation. A minuscule gesture. Easy to miss if one is not paying attention. But for someone who has seen the same expression on the mirror, done the same thing too many times when night terrors are inevitable, it is not.
Ash just barges in and crashes on the couch whenever he feels like it. I swear that guy is one fine hairline away from being a criminal.
Besides, you already know you can count on me whenever.
Without waiting for her answer, I step away from the door and saunter over the kitchenette. For a few good seconds, only the clinking of the plates can be heard above the constant tick-tock. Late as it may be for a snack, the familiar motions keep me occupied, steering my mind away from dangerous, dangerous thoughts. Isabella's company is not unwelcome either.
Whatever her reasons for showing up here at such an hour doesn't matter. I'll be damned if I just turn her away, frazzled as she is.
She's still quite shaken from her encounter with the ghost. But hey, we know it could've been much worse - *honk honk* - and this route would have an entirely different start.
(*door closing*)
The door clicks shut behind her when she finally enters, feet scuffling softly against the tiled floor. In all the years I've known her, she has never once lost her ever-upbeat spirit. Yet in this particular moment, as she stands in my doorway, holding her arms close to herself— It's as if I'm looking at someone completely withdrawn from the person I've come to know all these years.
Do you want to drink or eat anything?
I haven't restocked my food stash yet so ingredients may be a bit limited, but I'm sure I can whip something up with what I have here.
Just water will do, please. Thanks, Zach.
What? No additional food requests?
That's new. I'll put something together for you, anyway.
And feel free to make yourself at home! You ain't exactly a new visitor here, although my room's not at its most presentable right now, sorry. New freelance gigs and such.
Didn't have time to fix things up here lately.
Usually, she'd have something more to say about that. A quip, a witty remark to provoke a laughter or two. Nothing from her this time. Only a weak smile before she takes a seat on the couch, and a silence that stretches out until what we left hanging feels disconcerting.
She's probably still trying to figure out how to break the news to Zach - the news of whatever it is she found out at the office. It sounded very important at the time.
Before everything turns stifling and awkward, I continue talking, if only to keep the dead air at bay. How's one supposed to keep a conversation going when the person you're talking to is like this?
A-Anyway. Gigs.
Can you believe this one client we got?
Boss had all my scheduled shoots shifted after they caught wind of this couple buying a new property.
Oh yeah, the interview / photoshoot hasn't happened yet. That's gonna be *checks own thread* tomorrow.
Man, must be nice to have all the money in the world.
The world itself moves for you, huh?
She's curled up on one side of the couch and hugging her knees close when I bring the tray carrying the sandwiches and the water she requested. She starts to straighten up as I'm unloading the contents, but pauses as soon as I hold up my hand in a halting gesture.
You're a guest! Didn't I say you're free to make yourself at home? Here's your water. Careful.
The tremor in her hands, though lighter now, still hasn't subsided when she reaches out for the glass. I give her a questioning look, but she is quick to avert her eyes, keeping herself occupied by taking small gulps of water. Or maybe she just doesn't want me asking questions...
Worrying. This sudden loss for words, this bout of quiet not normally present in our chats. Even the creaking of the old chair when I casually take the seat is a welcome break. Although the company's familiar, this has gone way past unnerving.
She doesn't answer immediately. Another gulp drains her glass of its remaining contents. One would think it will be enough to help her recover, yet she doesn't lose her taut grip on the glass as she cradles it on her lap. Her eyes take an unfocused gaze when she speaks again.
I— Yeah. Boss handed me extra work today. After— after what happened.
To Rose.
To Rose? What about what happened to you?
Rose? Why do I feel like you've mentioned her before?
Sorry, I'm better with remembering faces than names.
She's… was ... She was my co-worker. That will take some getting used to. I was just talking to her the other day.
'Was'? Did she resign or something? I think I'm missing a few details here, 'Bella.
It doesn't matter. You probably heard her name recently from the news than me.
Something clicks then. A little memory from the night before— The bright red light from the dark room, the strong odor of the stop bath, the television's barely audible murmur in the background, and a glimpse of a bloody room… The news is everywhere even in the morning that follows. I just didn't think its effects will strike someone this close to me.
Oh. Damn. I didn't mean to bring that up.
No, I— Like I said, it'll take some getting used to, but it'll get better. I hope it will. Things might become a little busier for me though. She left a lot of things unfinished, and I'm one of the few people in the office who knows how she works. Boss thinks the transition will be easier if I handle it.
Ah, that explains it. Well, just don't forget you still need rest. Even the most hard-working people I know don't keep hours as late as this.
Hell, the subway stopped running hours ago! Crime rate might be lower here than most places, but that doesn't mean you can walk around freely in the middle of the night.
It's just for today.
Still a good thing you dropped by here first! I'm not just about to let you walk out there alone—especially not in the middle of the night.
Who knows what else could happen? I'm not saying you should go right now, but I could accompany you home if you—
The vehement tension in her voice makes me pause, and it is in this instant the mask she's been keeping up falls apart, if only for a short while. Right then and there, I understood what's hiding behind her unfocused stare from the moment she arrived: Fear. Pure, unadulterated fear. It's disturbing to see such marring her usual upbeat countenance.
With a sigh, I cross the small distance separating us and kneel in front of her. She doesn't flinch when I do so. However, the way she appears to make herself smaller against the couch is telling enough.
Bella, this ain't just about your co-worker, is it? What is this really about? I'm all ears.
(*shatter*)
The sound of glass shattering rents through the air as soon as her hold on it loosens. In the span of a few seconds, her breathing grows labored.
I don't know. I don't know anymore.
She claps her hands over her ears, pressing it tightly against the sides of her head. Her voice grows weaker with each word, each plea coming out of her mouth.
Please, please, don't leave me alone. I don't want to be alone right now. I can't shake it off. Everywhere it's— Everywhere's not safe and—
A'ight, a'ight, Isabella, look at me. Look at me.
My hands are firm on her shoulder when I pull her up to look at me. It takes every force of will to ignore the terror in her eyes in favor of taking control of the situation.
Too close, too similar.
Breathe, breathe, you're safe here. Inhale, hold, exhale. Stay in the present. I'm here. No one's gonna hurt you. Do you want to talk about it?
The force with which she shakes her head is enough reason to drop the topic altogether.
No more, please. No more. I don't want— I don't want to remember anymore.
... Come on, don't leave us hanging like this.
Can I get you anything? Another glass of water? I think I have a tub of that pistachio ice cream you love so much?
Ah, we're gonna have to clean this mess first. Will you be fine on your own for a little while?
She nods lightly before retreating into herself again.
(*sweeping*)
No more words are exchanged after that, and I take that as my cue to start cleaning the shards littering the floor before either one of us get hurt. The quiet hum of the AC is a pleasant distraction as I go over the menial task. More so than her ragged draws of breath or my little, feeble attempts to tell a quick story or two. But the latter does the trick.
And soon enough, she has already drifted off by the time I return with the promised glass of water; her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, the strain on her shoulders gone. Frankly, I've never seen her this still.
She mumbles something I don't quite catch when I carry her to the empty bed, and hugs herself tighter against the mess of blankets. In spite of the fact that she appears relaxed, the small frown on her face hasn't quite disappeared. Whatever happened to her won't be leaving her anytime soon. But for her sake, I hope it won't stay long with her. Because no matter what promises I've made, this is a kind of fear no person could shield her from.
I should know.
There are still questions left to be answered. But the late hour, coupled with the sudden exhaustion, made my old couch a more comfortable bed than it typically is.
Darkness immediately welcomes me as soon as my head hits my makeshift pillow. I can only wish the dreams will keep at a distance for now.
For both of us.
Journal Updated - OCT 25
A frightened Isabella Santos knocked at Zachary Steele’s apartment in the middle of the night. Shaken, she refused to say what happened. Zachary let her stay, regardless.
'October 25, Tuesday | Zachary's Room | Morning'
Music: Ambience Morning
(*phone vibrating*)
The first few notes, while muffled, are enough to wake me.
I'm not sure what he's talking about here, because that is definitely just a phone buzzing in the background, not a ringtone.
In the end, it became one of those nights when sleep passes like a blink and is plagued with vague fuzzy thoughts. I lift a hand to rub away the drowsiness from my eyes, although it does little to relieve the gritty, burning sensation from my eyelids.
Outside, the sun has yet to peek over the horizon, but night has already given way to the cool morning light, washing everything in subtle grey hues. At this hour, the entire city remains unstirring.
Ordinarily, waking up before my own alarm means abusing the snooze button—twice or thrice just to catch those precious few extra minutes of sleep. But the persistent ringing makes it impossible now.
Ugh, this better be good...
Groggily, I scramble for the bag sitting at the foot of the bed. The ringing still hasn't stopped even as I fish the phone out, and Ashton's name flashes brightly on the screen when I turn it on. Must be pretty urgent if he hasn't dropped the call yet.
Oh, this guy. It's been so long since we had to interact with him that i've almost forgotten how... well, how he is.
Ashton, it's six— six in the morning. The sun hasn't even risen. Hell, my brain ain't even awake, yet. And stop calling me Z-man.
It's twenty past six, Zach.
This is spoken in the most 'Well, actually' voice you can imagine, fyi.
You're one to talk. Give me back my five extra minutes, Ash. I want my sleep.
Hey, don't make fun of me! I can be a morning person too if I want to.
What's this all really about? You don't usually make calls around this hour. Is the world ending today?
Sorry about that. Becca rang me up a few minutes ago looking for Isabella, said she didn't show up in her own apartment last night. We both tried calling, but her phone seems to be off. Do you have any idea where—
I should've known you two will come looking for her first thing in the morning.
Not a laughing matter, Zach. You can't really let your guard down with everything that's happened here recently. You've heard about the Cooper woman from the news. Everyone in the precinct has been restless ever since the incident the other day.
He's talking about Rose, in case you've forgotten. It's been a while. You know, the green-haired lady.
Yeah, I get what you mean.
Listen, Ash... About— About 'Bella...
I let my voice trail off, unsure of how to go about recounting last night. If I should even say anything to him. He might be a close friend, but at the end of the day, whatever's bothering her ain't mine to speak of in the first place.
On the bed, Isabella remains as still as when I transferred her the night before. Sometime during her sleep, she pulls up a blanket over herself and tucked into it comfortably. Like this, it's easy to forget the horror in her eyes, or how much her hands and lips trembled. Save for her firm grip on the edge of the covers, she appears nearly as normal as she would any other day.
Almost.
Zach, what about her?
Something — the worry, the concern — must have surfaced in my tone, because his own shifts then. Carefully, as if he's preparing for the worst.
I wonder if their roles for "Listen, man..." would have been switched if Isabella's day had ended differently.
Look, you don't have to worry about her. She's with me right now. Since last night, in fact.
Oh. Why didn't you just say so earlier?
She kinda knocked in the middle of the night? I couldn't possibly wake you two over that. And with how things are when she arrived, I thought it'd be best if I let her rest first. I just wasn't expecting people would be looking for her before the rooster even crows.
You could've at least called or something. Becca's beside herself with worry when she found out. You know how much she frets about the smallest stuff.
I know, I know. I'm sorry. That was a lapse on my part. I just didn't think—
Okay. You know what? Rebecca's worries ain't completely baseless. Isabella hasn't been her usual self since the movie... maybe even before that. I don't know if I should be opening my mouth about this, but 'Bella didn't outright say I shouldn't, so...
So something's wrong, then?
I'm... not quite sure, to be completely honest. I couldn't get the story out of her.
Really? I thought you'd have learned something from me by now.
That's not it. Ash, when she appeared at my doorstep last night, she was shaking. And when I tried to ask her about it she just... panicked. Had this frightened look on her face. I'd be surprised if this was the first time I've seen it, but it ain't. Dude, the first time, she was screaming.
First time? When was this? You aren't talking about the thing in the movie house, are you? Because that was just us fooling around. Granted, I think I went overboard with the joke, but—
No, it happened the day after. When she invited us to lunch. You weren't there.
We were walking one second and then the next, she's crying out.
I'll be straight with you: that scared me shitless.
Oh yeah, that happened. I completely forgot about that. I'm so used to Hannah taking everything in stride by now.
It bothered him, if the way he falls silent after is telling. But whatever his opinion is stays absent from his voice when he speaks again. He's always been good with that—hiding what he thinks.
Did she say anything else?
Nothing. Won't tell me anything aside from a few vague words. I didn't want to push it.
Where is she? Is she still sleeping?
Right here with me. Still sleeping.
Should I wake her up or something? Let her know you guys are looking for her?
No need. Let her rest. I'll drop by in a few.
Today? Don't you have work at this time? I mean, I can drop her off home myself before meeting my client later.
Look who's talking.
My schedule's flexible, Ash. Last time I checked, you're the one who didn't have that luxury.
How on earth do you think I'm able to tag along when you need me?
It's not completely out of the way.
They live on the other side of the town from you, Ash. Your definition of 'out of the way' is a little screwed up, you know?
It's fine. I have some things I need to do anyway. I'll call you back. I've got to let Becca know that Scaredy-cat's fine. Bye.
(*click*)
Journal Updated - OCT 25
Come morning, Zachary received a phone call from Ashton, who is looking for Isabella. Zachary informed him that she stayed over and of the circumstances. Before ending the call, Ashton offered to pick her up.
Music: BGM Isabella Theme
He drops the call before I can even get a word in, and for several minutes after, I find myself simply listening as the rest of Luxbourne rouses: The increasing sound of passing traffic, the bustle of the nearby shops preparing for the day, and the growing clamour of the people while they go about their morning. Not the most soothing sounds to hear following a troubled night, but the routine puts me at ease nevertheless—what's comforting, what's safe, what I'm used to.
Nearby, Isabella shifts but doesn't wake, blissfully unaware as the city slowly stirs itself back to life. Was her night as restless as the one I had? Were her dreams as lucid? In hush moments like this, I envy her. Unreasonable, probably a little unfair, to say such in light of last night. If only forgetting is as easy as breathing.
A small yawn escapes me when I rise from the couch to stretch. Luckily, the short conversation with Ash has effectively driven away any will to go back to bed. I still have a day to get through despite the proverbial ghosts hanging around.
You're lucky Isabella's still sleeping, or she would've jumped again at that phrasing.
Yet the weight they carry is something I've never gotten used to. Years ago, I'd spend minutes, heck, even hours staring at a single pill prior to taking one in. Now, it's just routine—a way to stave off the unwanted nightly visits. Although, I don't think Doctor Navarro will be quite pleased if he ever finds out I'm relying on them again. I do owe him a visit, regardless. Especially after missing our appointments on purpose and ignoring his calls for weeks.
Another sigh comes out, tired and weary, and then I pop the tablet into my mouth.
And now we know why Zachary is the chillest character around: he always takes his 
(*clack*)
The bottle on my hand hits the table with more force than necessary. As much as I trust my friends, there are some things I'd rather keep to myself.
Morning, Bella! Did you sleep well?
She answers the question with a long drawn-out yawn—one reminiscent of a child. A chuckle manages to come out of my mouth at the sight. In this manner, it's easy to mistake her for someone too young for responsibilities. Inexperienced and immature, even.
Easy to forget she was thrust into the role of an adult earlier than her own dreams can afford; to overlook how surprisingly observant she can be at times. Maybe not on the same level Ash exercises for his investigations, or Rebecca needs for her own work. But it's certainly enough to deftly put what she sees around her on canvas. And if the way her eyes flickers to the table and my hand says something, it is that I won't be able to avoid the questions this time.
Only a little. I don't remember how I ended up on the bed, though.
My doing. You didn't look very comfortable sleeping on the couch, all hunched up like that.
It would've been enough for something temporary.
Sorry I stole your bed.
Hey it doesn't matter. Besides, what kind of gentleman would I be if I leave a lady sleeping in such uncomfortable conditions? Not in this house! My Nana would give me a tough scolding if I ever did that, I'm telling you!
Thanks a lot, Zach. I know I barged in at a very inconvenient time last night. I—
I wasn't really thinking when I did and—
Hey, hey, it's cool, 'Bella. I ain't mad at you. That's what friends do. You guys are welcome here anytime.
We might have less wiggle room if all four of us are present considering the size of this place, but as long as no one makes anything explode, it's totally fine!
Fine or not, I still owe you one for last night's trouble, especially since you don't seem to be…
A concerned expression passes over her features as she spares another cursory glance over the table, back to the bottle holding every small piece of what keeps the bad memories at bay— The blood blooming over Pa's heart, the horrified look on Ma's face as she watches him fall lifeless to the ground, and every ounce of spite seeping from the stranger's smile. You don't belong here. You monkeys don't belong here.
It never stops, doesn't it?
…W-Well. You don't seem to be feeling well. Let me know, okay? I'll make it up to you somehow.
She makes a slight gesture with her head towards the bottle. Asking a question without really asking.
Subtlety has never been one of her greatest assets, but right now... even Ash would've been a little amazed, if not at loss for words, at that. She has left it up to me whether I'll ever give her the response she wants to hear or not.
So, Zach's had some pretty harsh stuff on his mind for a long time now, and he's no stranger to terror and nightmares. Makes sense he's the one most likely to take Isabella seriously. Though he's obviously not fond of anyone and everyone knowing that he's on meds - he's even kind of ashamed of himself for it.
Would he rather joke it off and try to distract from it, or tell her straight, maybe even recommend some?
POLL: Do we want to bring it up to Isabella?