[the image that appears drips a little, but resolves clearly, almost glaring out of the wall at you.

while you're contemplating the results of your actions, you hear a tinny sound, somehow cutting completely through the noise each time: it layers itself on top of all the other voices rather than removing them, so now it's really loud in your head.

it's coming, improbably, from the cord-cut hotel telephone in the pile of feathers.

the sound is impossible to ignore, hideously compelling - who's even calling? it would be very, very hard not to react to the ringing.]