You open the door, stepping through it, not really wondering at the odd markings on the door.
"Who's there?" asks a voice, the voice of a young-sounding man, coming from the far side of the room.
"Oh, oh shit!" you say, realizing that you're really quite guilty of breaking and entering.
"Don't worry," the voice reassures you. "I don't mind visitors, and on nights like these, I rather like them."
"Really?" you ask, still rather hesitant to hang out. For all you know, he might be dialing 911. Not that you hear a phone being used, but you're feeling a little paranoid.
"Yes, it's fine," he says, adding, "If you'd like, you can flip on the light. The switch is just to the left of the doorframe."
You feel around cautiously, finding the light switch and flipping it. A lone bulb flickers to life in the ceiling, casting a dim light throughout the room. It's obviously a low-wattage bulb, as it simply makes the room poorly lit, as opposed to pitch black.
The room is equally sparsely decorated, with a small dresser, a worn couch, a small television on a tv stand, and a single bed, which is where the owner of the voice is, laying on top of his covers.
It's kind of hard to determine his age; his face has an almost ageless quality about it. He has short, brown hair that hangs just above his shoulders, and bright blue eyes. His face is very feminine, with full lips and delicate cheekbones. His chest is bare, and quite devoid of hair, as are his arms. In fact, he's only wearing a pair of baggy shorts, and you see that even his legs and feet are devoid of hair. He's quite the beautiful young man, indeed.
"Hello, I'm Roger," he says, smiling broadly at you. It's quite disarming, really.
"Hi," you reply, "I'm Jack."
"So, Jack," he says, "What brings you to my house on such a wonderful night?"
"I'm sure this is going to sound odd," you begin, "But I just couldn't sleep...so I started wandering...and found this place."
"Do go on," Roger says, still smiling.
"And I know, realistically, that this isn't something that one should do regularly, but I just HAD to come inside. I swear, I'm not a robber or anything. I just felt...compelled to come inside," You say, pleading your case.
"Oh, I believe you," Roger assures you, "I know EXACTLY what you mean. And why did you choose to come to this room?" He asks you, smiling as though he already knows what you're going to say.
"Well...I felt drawn to here, as well," you reply.
"You wouldn't be the first, and I doubt you'll be the last," he smiles, "This house has a way of doing that."
"The house?" you ask, incredulous.
"Oh yes, the house has quite a bit of magic strewn about it, around it, and upon it."
"You've got to be kidding me," you reply.
"Have a seat," he says, patting the edge of the bed, "and I'll tell you all about it."