Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da

Strange

He awoke after many minutes, mentally attempting to recall the past events. Remembering suddenly that there was a dead body involved, he looked over to his left.
It was gone.
"Don't worry, John. I'm just as confused as you are. I do not know why the power went on and the corpse moved when that happened," George said in a calm way that was too forced,
"Isn't all of this quite strange? I feel like Paul should not have written Ob-La-Di, Ob-La Da, because I feel like I just witnessed the feeling of death itself. Mentally, I have no idea what's truly going on," John went on in a disorderly way. "My head hurts way too bloody much," he added.
"It really has been all too much. Have you ever fainted before?"
"No, I don't think I have. Not until now, I'm guessing. That might explain why I'm feeling so chaotic," John observed.
"It is a very weird sensation when it happens, but you'll get over it," George explained in a steady tone.
"Since when have you fainted?" John asked in a bewildered fashion.
"Only a few days ago. Didn't it happen to you around the same time?" George inquired.
"Oh, yeah. I do remember it, now that you bring it up."
"Well, what truly matters is that we are all fine. Would you like some water?" George offered.
"Sure."
George nodded, going over to the kitchen. He grabbed a water bottle, just as John did earlier, and walked back over to him, handing John the object.
"Thanks," John said quietly as he took a sip from it. The water was much colder than it looked. Outwardly, it looked like a lukewarm drink, but it was quite the opposite.
John frowned as he observed the bottle. Something was mixed into the liquid. The same substance that coated that corpse.
John blinked forcefully at it, but it wasn't part of his imagination at all.
"Yeah, uh, I suppose I should be talking to Paul about all of this now," John announced as he got up slowly. He made his way into another room, the one in which Paul and Ringo were sitting together. John had start to become more suspicious as to why they were talking to each other, and not at all to he and George. Perhaps, Paul found more comfort in Ringo, who was practically the sunshine of the whole band. John couldn't really blame him if that was true.
"Well, Billy is dead and we're now stuck here because our manager thought it would be such a fine idea to pay homage to him. Did he really not consider that power outage?" Paul complained.
"Yeah, I would really like to go home," Ringo agreed.
"Wouldn't we all? I found what appeared to be blood in my water. I'm not quite enjoying my time here at all," John chimed in.
Ringo gave a distant nod.
"I think we should all check out different rooms of the house. I wonder what we could possibly find!" Paul suggested to Ringo.
"That couldn't be a horrible idea."
John unconsciously raised his eyebrows in slight suspicion as they both exited together. He walked hesitatingly out and sat back down on the couch. John picked the water bottle back up, examining it. There was no trace of blood at all inside of it. He drank a very small amount out of it. No metallic taste, just average water. It was more tasteless than usual, but he chose to brush the thought off. He'd been through a lot that day.