<<set $location to "BLESSED BAY HARBOR">><<set $subloc to "Ferry">><<include "Header">><div class="passage-body">Jayce leaned against the ferry railing, the metal damp beneath his forearms. Ocean spray clung to his skin, sharp salt mingling with the smoke from the cigarette between his fingers. He peered out over the choppy water as the bay drew closer, its docks softened by a thin veil of mist.
Beyond the harbor, the island rose in gentle, wooded hills, much of it disappearing behind the haze. The waterfront was a small cluster of weathered buildings, with the rest of town sprawling inland along the slopes. Fishing boats bobbed at their moorings, and a few figures moved about the docks, going about their morning business beneath a bright autumn sun. The trees had begun to turn, their greens giving way to rust and gold, though the air was still mild enough to leave his coat unbuttoned.
It was peaceful, picturesque, cheerful.
Hardly the sort of place one would expect to experience serial homicide.
Jayce sniffed, took one last drag, and flicked the cigarette into the water. Then he turned from the railing and headed back toward the vehicle deck, where his Crown Victoria waited.
<center>↞ | [[↠|ch1p2]]
<small>[TUTORIAL: Navigate story passages using the left and right arrows. Previous passages within a story sequence can be returned to while the arrows are visible.] </small></center></div><<cacheaudio "bg1" "https://rohvee.neocities.org/games/stillwater/audio/heresyp3lustmord.mp3">>
<<cacheaudio "ocean" "https://rohvee.neocities.org/games/stillwater/audio/ocean.mp3">>
<<cacheaudio "pier" "https://rohvee.neocities.org/games/stillwater/audio/pier.mp3">>
<<cacheaudio "oldradio" "https://rohvee.neocities.org/games/stillwater/audio/oldradio.mp3">>
<<set $location to "BLESSED BAY HARBOR">>
<<set $subloc to "Ferry">>
<<set $ch to "CH1">>
<<set $nsfw = false>><div class="game-header"><div class="game-title">$ch | $location<small>$subloc</small></div><div class="game-controls"><a href="javascript:void(0)" onclick="SugarCube.UI.saves(); return false;" aria-label="Save game" title="Save game"><img src="https://rohvee.neocities.org/games/stillwater/icons/save.svg" alt="Save" class="header-icon save-icon"></a><a href="javascript:void(0)" onclick="openOptions(); return false;" aria-label="Options" title="Options"><img src="https://rohvee.neocities.org/games/stillwater/icons/settings.svg" alt="Options" class="header-icon options-icon"></a><a href="javascript:void(0)" class="audio-toggle" onclick="toggleAudio(); return false;" aria-label="Toggle audio" title="Toggle audio"><img src="https://rohvee.neocities.org/games/stillwater/icons/pause.svg" alt="Pause" class="header-icon audio-icon"></a></div></div><<set $location to "BLESSED BAY HARBOR">><<set $subloc to "Ferry Dock">><<include "Header">><div class="passage-body">The black sedan rolled down the ferry ramp onto the dock, its tires hissing over the damp pavement. Jayce followed the line of cars toward the waiting road, where a man in a tan officer’s uniform stood beside a parked truck. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, with sharp eyebrows, an intense blue gaze, and a neat mustache. He had his hat tucked beneath one arm and his other hand raised to shield his eyes from the sun.
Jayce slowed beside him and rolled down the window, leaning out with his arm extended.
“Sheriff?”
“Call me Marcus,” the man said, stepping forward and grasping his hand in a firm shake. He had something of an Australian accent. “Welcome to Blessed Bay, Agent Talis.”
“I appreciate it, Marcus. You’ve got a beautiful town here.”
“We do, don’t we? Especially this time of year.” He glanced up at the reddening trees. “How was the crossing?”
“Choppy, but nothing serious.”
Marcus nodded toward the ferry behind him. “Gets worse when the weather turns late season. You picked a good morning, all things considered.” He glanced at his watch. “You eaten yet?”
“I was hoping to grab something when I arrived.”
“Jericho’s is a good place to start. Nothing fancy, but the food’s decent. Country's best blueberry pie. And if you’re looking for a drink later, there’s The Last Drop down by the water.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I’ll let you get settled in. You can stop by the station later, whenever you’re ready.” Marcus stepped back and motioned up the road. “Keep going along Harbor and you’ll see the big ugly sign for the hotel. Hard to miss, unfortunately.”
Jayce glanced in the direction he’d indicated. The road curved away from the docks between low stone walls and a row of weathered buildings.
“Thanks, Marcus. I’ll see you a little later.”
“Sounds good, Agent.” Marcus settled his hat back on his head, tipping the brim. “We’ll have the coffee on.”
Jayce pulled his arm back inside and raised the window. He gave the sheriff a brief nod before easing the Crown Victoria forward, following Harbor Road away from the waterfront.
<center>[[↞|ch1p1]] | [[↠|ch1p3]]</center></div><div class="passage-body title-screen"><div class="title-atmosphere"></div><div class="title-content"><h1>STILL WATER</h1><div class="title-divider"><span></span></div>[[↠ Start ↞|Warnings]]</div></div><details class="options-content-warnings"><summary class="options-warning-title"><span class="options-warning-triangle"></span>Content Warnings</summary>
\<h3 class="game-h3">Sensitive Content</h3>
\⟐ Murder and Death
\<br>⟐ Body Horror, Blood, Gore
\<br>⟐ Psychological Horror
\<br>⟐ Cosmic and Supernatural Horror
\<br>⟐ Cults
\<br>⟐ Alcohol and Tobacco Use
\<br>⟐ Molds and Parasites
\<br>⟐ Pregnancy
\<br>⟐ Terminal Illness
<h3 class="game-h3">Sexual Content [Optional]</h3>
\⟐ Cis Top Jayce / Trans Bottom Viktor
\<br>⟐ Explicit Sex
\<br>⟐ Vaginal Sex</details>
\<div class="option-row"><span class="option-label">NSFW Content</span>
<div class="option-choices">
<label><<radiobutton "$nsfw" true autocheck>>On</label>
<label><<radiobutton "$nsfw" false autocheck>>Off</label></div></div><div class="passage-body title-screen"><div class="title-content"><div class="loading-divider"><div class="loading-fill"></div></div><div class="loading-continue">[[↠ Continue ↞|Title]]</div></div></div><div class="passage-body content-warnings"><div class="content-warnings-body"><h2 class="game-h2">Content Warnings</h2>
<h3 class="game-h3">Sensitive Content</h3>
\⟐ Murder and Death
⟐ Body Horror, Blood, Gore
⟐ Psychological Horror
⟐ Cosmic and Supernatural Horror
⟐ Cults
⟐ Alcohol and Tobacco Use
⟐ Molds and Parasites
⟐ Pregnancy
⟐ Terminal Illness
<h3 class="game-h3">Sexual Content [Optional]</h3>
\⟐ Cis Top Jayce / Trans Bottom Viktor
⟐ Explicit Sex
⟐ Vaginal Sex
<div class="nsfw-setting">
<span class="option-label">Include NSFW Content?</span><div class="nsfw-choices"><label><<radiobutton "$nsfw" true autocheck>> Yes</label><label><<radiobutton "$nsfw" false autocheck>> No</label></div></div><small>[By checking Yes, you are confirming that you are 18 years of age or older]</small>
[[↠ Continue|Maw]]</div></div><<set $location to "THE LAST LIGHT HOTEL">><<set $subloc to "Reception">><<include "Header">><div class="passage-body">The Last Light Hotel stood a little way up from the harbor, its weathered siding a faded burgundy beneath the morning sun. A few shutters hung crookedly, and the paint around the entrance had begun to peel, but the windows were clean and the grounds reasonably well kept. Above the front doors, a red neon sign with the hotel's name and vacancy buzzed loud.
Several vehicles filled the lot, mostly older sedans and station wagons with out-of-state plates, and a few bikes. Among the latter sat a Honda Rebel 250, probably an '80s model, with a muted, organic green body. The brown leather seat and grips were worn smooth, and a pair of saddle bags hung over the rear wheel.
Jayce pulled into an open space and killed the engine. He retrieved one of his bags from the trunk, leaving the rest of his luggage where it was for now. The keys jingled as he pocketed them and headed inside the building.
The lobby looked as though it hadn't been updated since the seventies. The carpet was a loud, faded rust, the wallpaper patterned with gold and brown flowers, and a pair of brass lamps sat on a side table beneath a framed print of a sailboat. The place smelled of cigarette smoke and old wood, alongside the salty sea air that permeated every inch of this town.
Behind the front desk, a small elderly woman was flipping through a newspaper, a cigarette balanced between two fingers tipped with long, glossy red nails. Her makeup was bright with vivid blush and blue eyeshadow. An overflowing ashtray sat beside her elbow, and a thin trail of smoke curled toward the ceiling.
“Morning, honey,” she said in a gravelly voice, ashing her cigarette without looking up. “Checking in?”
“Yes, ma'am. Jayce Talis.” He set his bag beside the desk and leaned over it. “I should have a reservation.”
The woman looked up then, and her smile tightened at the edges.
“Ah, yes, the fed,” she said, still friendly enough, but just a little less warm than before. Jayce was used to that, particularly in small towns where everyone knew everyone else's business. She folded the newspaper and set it aside, then grunted as she pushed herself out of her chair. “Just a moment, honey.”
She disappeared through a doorway behind the desk and returned a minute later with a brass key attached to a plastic fob. The number 17 had been printed on it in faded ink.
“Second floor,” she said, sliding it across the counter. “King suite, booked indefinitely.”
“I appreciate it, ma'am.”
“Let me know if you need anything, honey. Number's right on the room phone.”
Jayce offered a grateful nod, picked up his bag and key, and headed down the hallway. His footsteps sank into the thick, worn carpet as he walked. Behind him, the newspaper rustled as the woman returned to her reading.
The lights flickered faintly overhead as he walked.
<center>[[↞|ch1p2]] | [[↠|ch1p4]]</center></div> <div class="passage-body maw-passage"><div class="maw-quote">"There is a maw at the end of everything.
A darkness from which all things once poured.
There was a maw at the beginning of everything.
And when the dark returns, it shall speak once more."
<p class="maw-attribution">—Unknown</p>
</div>
<div class="maw-continue-wrap">
<a href="javascript:void(0)" class="maw-continue" onclick="continueFromMaw(); return false;">↠ Continue ↞</a></div></div><<set $location to "THE LAST LIGHT HOTEL">><<set $subloc to "Hallway">><<include "Header">><div class="passage-body">Jayce shouldered past a family crowding the hallway, two children screaming at each other while their exhausted parents trailed behind, barely bothering to intervene. He slipped by with a muttered apology and continued down the hall.
Room 17 was at the end, its brown-painted door scuffed around the edges, a crooked brass number fixed above the handle. Muffled television noise and indistinct conversation drifted from the neighboring rooms, along with the occasional thud against a wall.
Jayce shifted his bag to one hand and drew the key from his pocket, reaching for the lock.
<center>[[↞|ch1p3]] | ↠
[[ [Enter Hotel Room]|ch1hotelroom1]]
<small>[TUTORIAL: Leaving a story sequence will prevent you from returning to earlier passages.] </small></center></div><<link "Options">><<run Dialog.setup("Options", "options")>><<run Dialog.wiki(Story.get("OptionsDialog").text)>><<run Dialog.open()>><</link>><<set $location to "THE LAST LIGHT HOTEL">><<set $subloc to "Room 17">><<include "Header">><div class="passage-body">The room was spacious enough to be comfortable, if a little dated. Dark wood furniture and faded upholstery gave it the feel of a place that hadn't been renovated since the seventies, though everything was clean and well kept. The curtains were faded, the carpet patterned in muted browns and golds. A glass door set into the window wall led out to a small balcony.
A king-sized bed sat against the far wall. Across from it, a bulky television rested atop a low dresser, while a small desk and wooden chair occupied the corner near the window. A worn brown couch sat along the opposite wall, facing the bed.
Beside the entrance was a narrow closet, and tucked into one corner was a compact kitchenette with a small refrigerator, sink, and a few cupboards. Between the kitchenette and the bedroom area stood a small wooden dining table with two chairs. The bathroom was behind a separate door.
Everything is just as it was. Jayce will unpack later.
[[↠ Kitchen|ch1hotelkitchen1]]
[[↠ Bathroom|ch1hotelbr1]]
[[↠ Bed|ch1hotelbed1]]
[[↠ Desk|ch1hoteldesk1]]
<<if $ch1balconyST1end is true>>[[↠ Balcony|ch1hotelbalcony1]]<<else>>[[↠ Balcony|ch1balconyST1]]<</if>>
↠ Leave [More coming soon]
<small>[TUTORIAL: Main areas outside of a story sequence can be visited at any time and will only change contextually.]</small></div><<set $location to "THE LAST LIGHT HOTEL">><<set $subloc to "Room 17 Balcony">><<include "Header">><div class="passage-body">The balcony was small, barely wide enough for a couple of chairs, with a metal railing that had begun to show spots of rust beneath its peeling paint. It overlooked the swathes of woodland that stretched inland, the treetops mottled with the reds, oranges, and golds of early autumn. Beyond them, the ocean glittered, its blue surface broken by whitecaps farther out. The breeze carried the salt smell of the sea and evergreens.
[[↠ Back|ch1hotelroom1]]</div><<set $location to "THE LAST LIGHT HOTEL">><<set $subloc to "Room 17 Bathroom">><<include "Header">><div class="passage-body">The bathroom was small but clean, with pale beige tiles and dated fixtures that matched the rest of the room. A narrow vanity with a white porcelain sink stood beneath a wide mirror, with a few toiletries neatly arranged along the counter beneath a wired hair dryer. The shower was enclosed behind a sliding glass door, its chrome dulled with water wear. Mounted on the wall beside the vanity was a pull-down ironing board, with an iron tucked into its holder. Ugly green towels had been folded neatly on a shelf beneath the sink.
Jayce glanced at himself in the mirror, taking in the suit he’d worn for the journey. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing to travel in, but first impressions mattered, especially when dealing with local authorities. He doubted he’d spend his entire stay dressed like this.
[[↠ Back|ch1hotelroom1]]</div><<set $location to "THE LAST LIGHT HOTEL">><<set $subloc to "Room 17 Kitchen">><<include "Header">><div class="passage-body">The kitchenette was tucked into a narrow alcove, with dark laminate countertops and faded wooden cabinets above and below. A small sink sat beside a refrigerator, while a microwave occupied the counter near a Keurig coffee maker, stocked with a handful of undoubtedly overpriced assorted pods. A few mismatched mugs sat in a cupboard alongside a couple of plates and bowls, and the drawers held the bare essentials.
[[↠ Back|ch1hotelroom1]]</div><<set $location to "THE LAST LIGHT HOTEL">><<set $subloc to "Room 17 Bed">><<include "Header">><div class="passage-body">Jayce sat on the edge of the king-sized bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. The sheets were crisp and white, tucked tightly beneath a thick comforter patterned in muted gold and brown. Two plump pillows rested against the headboard, which was upholstered in faded beige fabric.
The matching side tables were made of dark wood, their surfaces polished despite a few scratches along the edges. A brass lamp with an ugly green glass shade stood on each, casting a warm tint over the bedside. On one table sat a television remote and a laminated channel directory, its print slightly faded from years of use. A small notepad and pen had been left beside them, along with a little card reminding guests to return their room keys at checkout.
On the other side table sat a beige corded telephone. A strip of peeling tape had been stuck on the face of it, the reception number scrawled across it in fading ink.
[[↠ Back|ch1hotelroom1]]</div><<set $location to "THE LAST LIGHT HOTEL">><<set $subloc to "Lobby">><<include "Header">><div class="passage-body">Description
[[↠ Back|ch1hotelroom1]]</div><<set $location to "THE LAST LIGHT HOTEL">><<set $subloc to "Room 17 Desk">><<include "Header">><div class="passage-body">The desk sat near the window, its dark wooden surface worn smooth in places and scratched around the edges. A small brass lamp stood in one corner, beside a notepad and a pen bearing the hotel’s name. The chair was upholstered in faded brown leather, with wooden armrests polished by years of use. It looked sturdy enough, if not particularly comfortable, and the desk offered just enough space to spread out a few files.
Jayce would unpack his laptop and the rest of his work materials later.
[[↠ Back|ch1hotelroom1]]</div><<set $location to "THE LAST LIGHT HOTEL">><<set $subloc to "Room 17 Balcony">><<include "Header">><div class="passage-body">The balcony was small, barely wide enough for a couple of chairs, with a metal railing that had begun to show spots of rust beneath its peeling paint. From here, the view was considerably better than anything else the hotel had to offer. Swathes of woodland stretched inland, the treetops mottled with the reds, oranges, and golds of early autumn. Beyond them, the ocean glittered beneath the morning sun, its blue surface broken by whitecaps farther out. The breeze carried the salt smell of the sea, cool against his face without being cold enough to drive him back inside.
Jayce leaned against the railing, taking in the view.
A noise to his right drew his attention. The neighboring balcony door slid open, and a man stepped out. His hair stuck up in several directions, as though he'd only just dragged himself out of bed. He wore a long burgundy robe, hanging open over a sleepshirt and sweatpants, with a pair of slippers shuffling against the wood. A cane clicked against the boards as he made his way toward the railing. He yawned, then shook a cigarette from a carton and stuck it between his lips.
He patted down the pockets of his robe, obviously searching for a lighter. His expression soured.
“Shit,” he muttered.
“Need a light?” Jayce asked.
The man glanced up, looking Jayce over. The sunlight caught his face, and Jayce was momentarily startled by his eyes, an unusual amber that glowed like golden honey. Sharp cheekbones, a defined nose, and two small moles, one beneath his eye and another just above his lip. Strikingly pretty, even with his hair in disarray. Perhaps especially.
Late twenties, early thirties, perhaps. Too young for the cane to be age-related. An injury, or something congenital? It was difficult to turn off the analyst.
“I //am// in need,” the man replied, resting an elbow against the railing, mouth quirking in a playful smile around the cigarette. “The question is, //is the man asking also offering a solution?//”
His accent was thick, unmistakably Slavic, though Jayce couldn't quite place it. Slovak? Czech? Perfect English, spoken with the casual ease of someone who used it regularly. But the accent was too pronounced for him to have grown up here. An immigrant, then. For how long?
Jayce reached into his suit pocket for his lighter. Pushing away from his own railing, he stepped closer to the gap between their balconies. It was no more than a couple of feet across, though it was a considerable drop below. He held the lighter out toward the man.
The man stepped closer, hooking his cane over his elbow so he could take the lighter. He held it up in a small gesture of thanks, then leaned his good hip against the railing and cupped a hand around the flame. The tip of his cigarette glowed orange as he drew in a slow breath. He held it for a moment before exhaling, smoke curling from his lips and drifting out over the balcony into the bright morning air.
“So.” He tucked the cigarette between two fingers, turning his attention back to Jayce. There was a peculiar, almost mischievous look on his face, his amber eyes glittering with amusement. “You’re here about the murders, I imagine?”
Jayce blinked, caught off guard. “How did you know that?”
“The suit.”
“How do you know I’m not here on business?”
“The way you’re looking at me.” The man leaned over the railing, speaking a little more softly. “Like you’re trying to dissect me with your eyes.”
Jayce felt a faint warmth creep into his face.
“Of course, you could be a salesman,” the man continued, taking another drag. “But this isn’t exactly a lucrative area for high-end toasters.”
“You’re very observant,” Jayce remarked, slipping his hands into his pockets. “What are //you// in town for?”
“Vacation.”
“Cheery place to pick.”
“The blueberry pie is to die for.”
“I’ve heard.” Jayce glanced him up and down, trying to place him. There was something about the man’s manner, an offbeat sort of detachment, that suggested a career spent working alone. “So, what do you do when you’re not visiting spooky coastal towns with a serial murderer on the loose and eating pie?”
“Hmm.” The man leaned back against the railing with a wink. “You tell me, G-man.”
He took one last drag of his cigarette before pushing away from the railing and stubbing it out in the grimy ashtray.
“I’ll see you around.”
“Will I?”
“It’s a small town, neighbor.”
Jayce watched him turn, offering a halfhearted little wave with his slender fingers as he tucked his cane beneath him and headed inside. Jayce stared at the closed door for a few moments, as though it might answer the questions gathering in his mind. Eventually, he shook his head and glanced back toward his own door.
[[↠ Head Back Inside|ch1hotelroom1]]</div><<set $ch1balconyST1end to true>>