We decided to call it off for now and get ahold of the paramedics.
We went back into the foyer to tell Frank all of this while Larry was getting his phone out to dial, but Frank was gone. The hole he was sitting in was still there, the board with its nails was still there, blood soaking the edge. But he himself had vanished.
What happened? Where could he have gone? WHY? Did that thing he kept going on about catch up to him? Wouldn't he have called for us?
Oh, God, what do we do?
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