It may be a surprise, but Royce doesn't actually hate being around Alfie. He's capable, non-chatty, and they're typically on the same page. Royce appreciates it - doesn't trust him, obviously, but he thinks the guy is reasonable enough to hang around. The suggestion that they stick together, at least for the day, goes over well, and after searching the house they stayed in, they head out.
The house they head to first isn't unusual from the others. Royce hasn't been to this particular one before, so he takes his time searching through it, relishing the chance to stretch his freezing fingers. The first search didn't have much that was useful, though he is amused by the fake blood. Who knows, could be something he can trade.
It's when he comes up to the wall to search through the couch cushions that something weird happens.
Not the first time he's run into something weird in the houses - a few nights before, he'd stayed in a house where it constantly felt like water was dripping onto his head, even though he was certain there were no leaks. This is much different. This time, as he's searching, he feels something against the back of his head, trying to grip his hood, which immediately has him leaping back, makeshift shiv in hand.
When he looks, there's nothing there. Royce stands in the middle of the living room, glaring at the wall, and then looking over his shoulder, at the ceiling, like he expects to find something there.
Day 122, House 103
The house they head to first isn't unusual from the others. Royce hasn't been to this particular one before, so he takes his time searching through it, relishing the chance to stretch his freezing fingers. The first search didn't have much that was useful, though he is amused by the fake blood. Who knows, could be something he can trade.
It's when he comes up to the wall to search through the couch cushions that something weird happens.
Not the first time he's run into something weird in the houses - a few nights before, he'd stayed in a house where it constantly felt like water was dripping onto his head, even though he was certain there were no leaks. This is much different. This time, as he's searching, he feels something against the back of his head, trying to grip his hood, which immediately has him leaping back, makeshift shiv in hand.
When he looks, there's nothing there. Royce stands in the middle of the living room, glaring at the wall, and then looking over his shoulder, at the ceiling, like he expects to find something there.