"One of several good questions," Eula observes, coming up behind him. Unlike Malos, they pick up the towel and shake it out - the bloodstained part stays somewhat how it dried, but there's no dust when they flap the fabric before tossing it back on the couch.

"No dust," they observe. "Odd. Something so old as to no longer smell, yet no dust even in the pile?" That's unnatural as hell, if you ask them. Dust accumulates anywhere people or, indeed, any living things are.

Frowning, they turn towards the door, pausing to listen at it before testing the knob. "Unlocked," they say. "Here's hoping for no monsters on the other side." You can never entirely rule them out.