While Robert was busily scribbling away on his notepad, Rosalind had anticipated his request for some water. He uttered a grateful thank you as he gulped thirstily. Funnily enough, Marshall found her cursory pat on his hand and positive response to his story comforting. It was so nice to feel useful again. It seemed like everyone who had arrived in Marrowood was acclimating to the strange place easily (making friends, getting jobs, learning how to wield a kick ass katana sword, etc.)...except for him. He didn't feel like he fit in anywhere doing anything. Except here, strangely. Sure, he was probably nothing more than a test subject for the Luteces'. However, Marshall felt that if his insight into death could help, even a tiny bit, he was doing his part. Hell, maybe the twin geniuses would pay him in cheese and a little coin to come and hang out with them a couple days a week. He could clean and sweep or something...even he could manage that.
"More details about the Thin Man?" Marshall asked hesitantly. He took another long sip of water and then nodded resolutely.
"I had actually been catching glimpses of him for a few days before I died," Marshall started. Looking back on those days sent a prickly feeling along the back of his neck. He shivered and continued.
"Always from far away. I didn't know it was Doctor Octopus I was seeing at the time but now that I look back on it, it was definitely him. A sleeve of a pinstripe suit creeping out from behind a building. A long, shadowy tentacle slithering out from behind a tree. An unnaturally tall shadow cast from a streetlamp. I always quickly turned away...I think that's what saved me. But the last time I couldn't. Barney saw him first. He died as I had him over my shoulder...I think from looking at the monster directly and for an extended period of time. Barney was trying to get a high five from him because his suit was super suave. The dead weight of Barney...ugh, that's the worst choice of words. Anyway, his dead weight, my drunkenness, and the fear caused me to trip. As I looked up, he was upon me. All I remember was the completely featureless pale face and then...nothing. No pain, no more fear. Just pure, blinding white and then nothing...nothing at all."
Marshall paused for a moment, collecting himself. His voice had taken on a fearful squeaky quality and he wanted to make sure his statement was clearly understood. He could hear the hum and white noise of machines around him working feverishly and when his heartbeat had returned to a semi-normal pattern, he continued.
"I don't think anyone found our bodies. At least, no one I've spoken to about it recovered our dumb carcasses or knew anyone that had. Two days later, I woke up unscathed, tequila still on my breath, in my own hotel room bed. I was dirty from the fall in the woods but there was no blood, no injuries at all. Barney's account for the night's events corroborated my own. He's obviously too much of a pansy to come here and say his piece but our stories mirrored each other."