((G039: Rene Wolfe- Start))
That nap Rene took on the bus was probably the worst one she had taken in years. She didn't feel rested at all, and she had all these weird, fucked-up dreams to boot. Plus, her back was hurting like hell, like she had been sleeping weird for the past few hours. Man, she couldn't wait to get up and start moving around. The trip had better be worth the cost of that fucking horrible nap.
Strangely, Rene didn't wake up in her seat, or even in a waiting room or hotel. She woke up on some dirty-as-hell floor in some weird room with bars on the windows. Shit, where the hell was she? Did she start sleepwalking or something? If so, why didn't anyone stop her? And why did she have this weird itch on her neck? She brought her hand up to her neck to investigate, and was met with the feeling of cool metal as she touched her neck.
The wheels started turning in her head as she realized what was going on.
Oh.
Oh shit.
I guess some of those dreams weren't dreams after all.
Survival of the Fittest. Damn. She had hoped that shit was over and done with by now. But unfortunately, terrorists don't seem to have anything better to do than kidnap random high school kids and use them as the casts of their seriously screwed-up version of reality TV. Seriously, those guys needed a hobby or something. Preferably something that involved a little less murder.
Rene picked herself up off the ground, kneeling for a moment as she stretched. Her back was killing her. Probably the result of having her unconscious self dumped who-knows-where and just left there until she woke up to deal with it herself. Man, if there was a worse way for someone to leave a first impression on her, then Rene hadn't found it yet. Basically, the only upside to her current situation that she could think of was that she wasn't dead. Well, at least not for the time being.
Rene looked around the room, discovering that it was quite possibly the most barren room she had ever seen in her life. There were walls, there was a floor, and there were windows that, to reiterate, had fucking bars on them. The only piece of furniture contained within was an extremely spartan-looking bed right next to her. Not even any blankets, just a frame and a mattress. On top of the bed was...
Oh, you've got to be kidding me.
Sitting pristinely atop of the bed, the same bed that Rene had been sleeping next to in a heap on the floor, was a duffel bag.
It was official. Someone involved had a pretty shitty sense of humor.
Lone Wolfe
G039 start, Open
-
Ruggahissy
- Posts: 1593
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
((Caleb Diamond: start))
Caleb was curled up in the corner of the room near a cot. His breathing was shallow and he felt queasy, thirsty and weak. His eyes were brimming with tears, but he wasn't crying just yet.
"How is this ? How is this ? How is this ?" he muttered to himself.
How was it fair? They were being punished for what? Why? Everyone saw the same thing that he did. He didn't trust them. They were his friends out there, but he couldn't trust them no matter how much he liked them. He squeezed his eyes shut and a few tears dripped down.
He felt his heart beat rapidly as he hugged his knees. He'd never thought about trust a great deal. If you'd have asked him about if he felt he could trust his friends the day before he probably would have shrugged and said "Maybe. I guess." It was hard as it was for him to have faith in people being decent to other people when he saw how easily someone could flip given the right motivation in person. They would break any trust he had left, probably within a few hours. Caleb didn't think of himself as a naive person, but now yesterday's Caleb seemed hopelessly glib.
Caleb swallowed hard. He tried to stand. His legs gave way when he tried and he collapsed onto the floor next to a crusty and ancient brown stain. Blood or shit from a crazy person who probably died in this building just like he would. He reached into his pocket for a lighter and a pack of cigarettes, they were the only thing he could think of that might calm him down. It was no good. His hands were shaking so much he could barely hold the crinkled package. The more he looked at his hands the sicker he felt. There was no way he'd be able to work a lighter in this condition.
He wasn't sure if it was fear or anger that paralyzed him. He hated with every inch, from his heels to his hands. He contracted into himself, laying in a fetal position.
How long am I going to have to wait to die?
He would have preferred if they could have just shot him in the head on the bus. He'd never been thirstier in his life, but he couldn't un-tense himself. The blood rushed to his ears, making all he heard around him white noise. Caleb felt like he would probably faint any second from the shock. If he was lucky someone would shoot him in the head after.
Caleb was curled up in the corner of the room near a cot. His breathing was shallow and he felt queasy, thirsty and weak. His eyes were brimming with tears, but he wasn't crying just yet.
"How is this ? How is this ? How is this ?" he muttered to himself.
How was it fair? They were being punished for what? Why? Everyone saw the same thing that he did. He didn't trust them. They were his friends out there, but he couldn't trust them no matter how much he liked them. He squeezed his eyes shut and a few tears dripped down.
He felt his heart beat rapidly as he hugged his knees. He'd never thought about trust a great deal. If you'd have asked him about if he felt he could trust his friends the day before he probably would have shrugged and said "Maybe. I guess." It was hard as it was for him to have faith in people being decent to other people when he saw how easily someone could flip given the right motivation in person. They would break any trust he had left, probably within a few hours. Caleb didn't think of himself as a naive person, but now yesterday's Caleb seemed hopelessly glib.
Caleb swallowed hard. He tried to stand. His legs gave way when he tried and he collapsed onto the floor next to a crusty and ancient brown stain. Blood or shit from a crazy person who probably died in this building just like he would. He reached into his pocket for a lighter and a pack of cigarettes, they were the only thing he could think of that might calm him down. It was no good. His hands were shaking so much he could barely hold the crinkled package. The more he looked at his hands the sicker he felt. There was no way he'd be able to work a lighter in this condition.
He wasn't sure if it was fear or anger that paralyzed him. He hated with every inch, from his heels to his hands. He contracted into himself, laying in a fetal position.
How long am I going to have to wait to die?
He would have preferred if they could have just shot him in the head on the bus. He'd never been thirstier in his life, but he couldn't un-tense himself. The blood rushed to his ears, making all he heard around him white noise. Caleb felt like he would probably faint any second from the shock. If he was lucky someone would shoot him in the head after.
Sleeping was one of Samuel's favorite pastimes. He'd actually meant to grab some shuteye on the bus anyway: he'd stayed up late last night due to a rare burst of inspiration, writing into the early hours of the morning. He'd arrived at school with four or five hours of sleep tops, and was looking forward to taking a quick nap. Nothing felt out of the ordinary to him. Sleep had just come to him easier than he thought it would.
He'd expected to be woken up by a classmate or the teacher once they'd arrived at the museum, and he'd spend a pretty okay day outside of school. Instead, he woke up tied to a chair, witnessed not one but two deaths, told he had to do the same on his classmates, and promptly put back to sleep, destined to wake up on hellmurder island.
At least he'd woken up in an actual bed.
B031, Samuel Howard: START
It wasn't too comfortable, but it was a bed nonetheless. He'd had fallen asleep in worse places. Samuel guessed that it had been ten minutes since he'd woken up, but he hadn't moved. Partially because he was still getting off the sleeping gas, but also because he couldn't give a shit.
Samuel was going to die here, there was no doubt about that. Sure, he had the size and strength advantage over his smaller classmates, but he didn't think he had the ability to make it. He'd spent most of his life sitting on his ass, after all. He wasn't the fittest in any sense of the word. So why bother getting up? If he was going to die, he wasn't going to spend his last moments stressed and panicked. He just wanted some peace and quiet before dying.
Without much else to do, he just stared up at the ceiling. There wasn't much else in the room to look at. All that was in here was the bed he was sitting in, a duffel bag, and a crossbow he'd been trying to avoid looking at. Judging by the barred windows, he was either in a prison or an asylum. Prisons usually didn't have regular doors, though.
Samuel had been lying there in dead silence, so the sound of something moving in the next room was clear as day. Well he couldn't ignore that. He sat up in bed and stretched, unintentionally yawning loud enough for someone to hear.
He'd expected to be woken up by a classmate or the teacher once they'd arrived at the museum, and he'd spend a pretty okay day outside of school. Instead, he woke up tied to a chair, witnessed not one but two deaths, told he had to do the same on his classmates, and promptly put back to sleep, destined to wake up on hellmurder island.
At least he'd woken up in an actual bed.
B031, Samuel Howard: START
It wasn't too comfortable, but it was a bed nonetheless. He'd had fallen asleep in worse places. Samuel guessed that it had been ten minutes since he'd woken up, but he hadn't moved. Partially because he was still getting off the sleeping gas, but also because he couldn't give a shit.
Samuel was going to die here, there was no doubt about that. Sure, he had the size and strength advantage over his smaller classmates, but he didn't think he had the ability to make it. He'd spent most of his life sitting on his ass, after all. He wasn't the fittest in any sense of the word. So why bother getting up? If he was going to die, he wasn't going to spend his last moments stressed and panicked. He just wanted some peace and quiet before dying.
Without much else to do, he just stared up at the ceiling. There wasn't much else in the room to look at. All that was in here was the bed he was sitting in, a duffel bag, and a crossbow he'd been trying to avoid looking at. Judging by the barred windows, he was either in a prison or an asylum. Prisons usually didn't have regular doors, though.
Samuel had been lying there in dead silence, so the sound of something moving in the next room was clear as day. Well he couldn't ignore that. He sat up in bed and stretched, unintentionally yawning loud enough for someone to hear.
Rene grimaced and snatched the duffel bag off the bed, maybe a bit too forcefully. Hey, it was the only way she had to express her anger at the moment, and considering that the bag had been sitting atop a nice, not-completely-terrible bed while she had spent what was likely a few hours on the cold-hard ground, she felt justified in her actions.
She put her hand on the bag's zipper and was about to investigate its contents when she heard a sound coming from the next room. Something like... a yawn? Crap, she wasn't alone here. Now, Rene wasn't exactly what one would call an introvert, but she would have preferred maybe an hour or two to herself before she had to start getting involved with the social structure of crazy murder island. Unfortunately, fate just didn't seem to be a fan of hers today.
Rene wasn't sure what to do, so she froze for a moment. Moving around too much would make noise, which could draw whoever was in the next room over to her room. While it wasn't an absolute certainty that whoever was in the next room was a psychotic killer who was currently in the process of cleaning the fresh muscle tissue out of their machete, that was a possibility that Rene genuinely had to consider, given the circumstances. But on the other hand, just keeping still wouldn't actually help her much either, since in all likelihood, someone would wind up coming around eventually anyway, and the longer she stuck around, the more people would start losing it and going into psycho-killer mode.
In response to the situation she found herself in, Rene gave a loud, annoyed sigh. This was really not what she had signed up for.
She put her hand on the bag's zipper and was about to investigate its contents when she heard a sound coming from the next room. Something like... a yawn? Crap, she wasn't alone here. Now, Rene wasn't exactly what one would call an introvert, but she would have preferred maybe an hour or two to herself before she had to start getting involved with the social structure of crazy murder island. Unfortunately, fate just didn't seem to be a fan of hers today.
Rene wasn't sure what to do, so she froze for a moment. Moving around too much would make noise, which could draw whoever was in the next room over to her room. While it wasn't an absolute certainty that whoever was in the next room was a psychotic killer who was currently in the process of cleaning the fresh muscle tissue out of their machete, that was a possibility that Rene genuinely had to consider, given the circumstances. But on the other hand, just keeping still wouldn't actually help her much either, since in all likelihood, someone would wind up coming around eventually anyway, and the longer she stuck around, the more people would start losing it and going into psycho-killer mode.
In response to the situation she found herself in, Rene gave a loud, annoyed sigh. This was really not what she had signed up for.
-
Ruggahissy
- Posts: 1593
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
Caleb calmed down a little. He felt very tired, like he'd just hiked for hours. He stared straight ahead in something like a trance.
He remembered coming down the stairs at home, his right hand in an itchy cast. He came down second, he was always second. The living room was all fucked up. Drawers were open, loose wires splayed and the outlines of where objects once were in dust.
He blinked slowly. He remembered his twin, Andy. He remembered palling around with him and sitting on the couch.
"Did you hear that thing Kanye West said or whatever?" he said, hanging upside down on the couch.
"No," responded Andy hunching forward to see Caleb. "What did he say?"
"Dave Chapelle says he was hanging out with him and the phone rang. All he hears Kanye West say is 'Hello. Huh? What? Uh uh, I can't. I can't. Cause, I'm at Dave Chappelle's show watching sketches that nobody's ever seen before.'
And then he says, 'Cause my life is dope, and I do dope shit," and then he hung up.' "
Andy burst out laughing in a high sort of cackle totally different than Caleb's.
"Cause my life is dope," said Andy.
"And I do dope shit," finished Caleb cracking a rare smile.
Caleb would never be happy again and he would die for nothing. Life wasn't perfect, but he put in an effort. He had tried and it was all going to fall apart. He was dizzy now. There were two noises from different directions. His hands weren't shaking as violently as they had been. He scrambled, trying to wipe the tears and distress from his face.
He remembered coming down the stairs at home, his right hand in an itchy cast. He came down second, he was always second. The living room was all fucked up. Drawers were open, loose wires splayed and the outlines of where objects once were in dust.
He blinked slowly. He remembered his twin, Andy. He remembered palling around with him and sitting on the couch.
"Did you hear that thing Kanye West said or whatever?" he said, hanging upside down on the couch.
"No," responded Andy hunching forward to see Caleb. "What did he say?"
"Dave Chapelle says he was hanging out with him and the phone rang. All he hears Kanye West say is 'Hello. Huh? What? Uh uh, I can't. I can't. Cause, I'm at Dave Chappelle's show watching sketches that nobody's ever seen before.'
And then he says, 'Cause my life is dope, and I do dope shit," and then he hung up.' "
Andy burst out laughing in a high sort of cackle totally different than Caleb's.
"Cause my life is dope," said Andy.
"And I do dope shit," finished Caleb cracking a rare smile.
Caleb would never be happy again and he would die for nothing. Life wasn't perfect, but he put in an effort. He had tried and it was all going to fall apart. He was dizzy now. There were two noises from different directions. His hands weren't shaking as violently as they had been. He scrambled, trying to wipe the tears and distress from his face.
The person in the next room just sighed. Samuel was grateful that he didn't hear them scramble into action. He didn't expect someone to ambush him immediately after waking up, but he wouldn't be surprised if someone did. Kids had snapped in the past, going from being a well-adjusted high school student to a violent murderer at the drop of a hat. It had happened every time, and he didn't expect that trend to stop with them. So he thought it was best that he avoided other people.
Samuel swung his legs around and got up from the cot. He slung his bag over his shoulder, and then lumbered over to the crossbow. With some hesitation, he picked it up, feeling its unfamiliar weight in his hands. It suddenly occurred to him that he didn't know how to use it. Did they include manuals for using weapons like this? Samuel paused in contemplation for a moment before shaking his head. He'd figure it out once he got out of here.
Samuel tried his best to open the door quietly. He stepped out into the hallway lined with doorways. Down the hall was a metal gate, a lone gurney sitting beside it. It was also conveniently in the opposite direction of the room the mysterious person was in. He turned in that direction and started walking. If he was lucky, he'd avoid whoever else was in here.
Samuel swung his legs around and got up from the cot. He slung his bag over his shoulder, and then lumbered over to the crossbow. With some hesitation, he picked it up, feeling its unfamiliar weight in his hands. It suddenly occurred to him that he didn't know how to use it. Did they include manuals for using weapons like this? Samuel paused in contemplation for a moment before shaking his head. He'd figure it out once he got out of here.
Samuel tried his best to open the door quietly. He stepped out into the hallway lined with doorways. Down the hall was a metal gate, a lone gurney sitting beside it. It was also conveniently in the opposite direction of the room the mysterious person was in. He turned in that direction and started walking. If he was lucky, he'd avoid whoever else was in here.
Rene kept listening, hoping that she would be able to hear something else. She thought that she heard a few faint noises, but nothing that stuck out as incredibly alarming as of yet. She slowly took a few steps toward the door, pondering whether or not leaving would be a good idea. Sure, she had unknown company nearby, but she had a feeling that staying in her drab, featureless room for too long would drive her insane, or at the very least make her incredibly bored. Yes, leaving definitely seemed like the best option at the moment.
... Or at least, that's what she was thinking right up until she was right next to the door. That was when she started having second thoughts. Most of these thoughts revolved around her earlier hypothesis that she was sharing the floor with a murderer. But hey, it had only been... okay, Rene actually had no idea how long she had been out, so it could have been anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours since the... should she even call it a game? Well, the point was, this whole mess couldn't have been going on for too long at this point. People can't have been going crazy yet, right? Yeah, there was definitely nothing to worry about. Yet.
Rene turned the knob and slowly, carefully opened the door. This went off without a hitch for the most part, at least until the door squeaked right as it opened enough for Rene to sneak through. She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut in annoyance for a moment, hoping that bit of noise didn't attract too much attention. She leaned out the doorway to see if there was anything of interest down the hall.
Sure enough, there has a big guy standing in the hall. He has holding something that Rene couldn't see clearly, but she assumed was a weapon of some kind.
Well, shit.
... Or at least, that's what she was thinking right up until she was right next to the door. That was when she started having second thoughts. Most of these thoughts revolved around her earlier hypothesis that she was sharing the floor with a murderer. But hey, it had only been... okay, Rene actually had no idea how long she had been out, so it could have been anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours since the... should she even call it a game? Well, the point was, this whole mess couldn't have been going on for too long at this point. People can't have been going crazy yet, right? Yeah, there was definitely nothing to worry about. Yet.
Rene turned the knob and slowly, carefully opened the door. This went off without a hitch for the most part, at least until the door squeaked right as it opened enough for Rene to sneak through. She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut in annoyance for a moment, hoping that bit of noise didn't attract too much attention. She leaned out the doorway to see if there was anything of interest down the hall.
Sure enough, there has a big guy standing in the hall. He has holding something that Rene couldn't see clearly, but she assumed was a weapon of some kind.
Well, shit.
-
Ruggahissy
- Posts: 1593
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
((Looks like I got skipped. I guess this will be new posting order))
Caleb took a few deep breaths. That morning he hadn't said good bye to his family. He and his brothers had been out skateboarding the night before. They were almost home, when James bet Andy and Caleb to a race down the steep hill leading to their house. Caleb wouldn't take the bet, but Andy did. They took off fast. Andy hit something, a rock maybe and was flung off the board. A sickening squelch happened and he lay on the payment with an unnaturally twisted arm. It was broken. Andy was taken to the hospital and both his parents stayed overnight. He took James to school and boarded the bus for the field trip.
"See what you did, you retards."
Those might have been his last words to them. He had always been the unlucky one and he thought this time he'd escaped trouble. It turns out he just wasn't thinking far enough ahead.
Caleb continued breathing deep. He still felt like hot garbage. His stomach was flipping, his heart felt weak and he was still dizzy. All in all it reminded him of the similar effects of listening to Skrillex. He got up on all fours and shuffled to the bed. He grabbed the partially rusted metal frame until he was standing. It was then he noticed that the door to his room was wide open.
He heard another door nearby slowly creek open and saw the bag on the floor. He lurched forward, grabbed the bag's handle and dragged it along the filthy ground until he got to the door. The door had scratch marks on the inside and what looked to be like a piece of old, cracked, yellowed finger nail stuck partially in it. Caleb slammed it shut and then sat down next to it and his bag. He imagined the areal view of the area, imagined looking down on numerous similar holding cells with other kids from his class bouncing around like a scientist looking down on a bunch of rats.
Caleb took a few deep breaths. That morning he hadn't said good bye to his family. He and his brothers had been out skateboarding the night before. They were almost home, when James bet Andy and Caleb to a race down the steep hill leading to their house. Caleb wouldn't take the bet, but Andy did. They took off fast. Andy hit something, a rock maybe and was flung off the board. A sickening squelch happened and he lay on the payment with an unnaturally twisted arm. It was broken. Andy was taken to the hospital and both his parents stayed overnight. He took James to school and boarded the bus for the field trip.
"See what you did, you retards."
Those might have been his last words to them. He had always been the unlucky one and he thought this time he'd escaped trouble. It turns out he just wasn't thinking far enough ahead.
Caleb continued breathing deep. He still felt like hot garbage. His stomach was flipping, his heart felt weak and he was still dizzy. All in all it reminded him of the similar effects of listening to Skrillex. He got up on all fours and shuffled to the bed. He grabbed the partially rusted metal frame until he was standing. It was then he noticed that the door to his room was wide open.
He heard another door nearby slowly creek open and saw the bag on the floor. He lurched forward, grabbed the bag's handle and dragged it along the filthy ground until he got to the door. The door had scratch marks on the inside and what looked to be like a piece of old, cracked, yellowed finger nail stuck partially in it. Caleb slammed it shut and then sat down next to it and his bag. He imagined the areal view of the area, imagined looking down on numerous similar holding cells with other kids from his class bouncing around like a scientist looking down on a bunch of rats.
Before Samuel could even take two steps, he heard a door behind him open.
God dammit.
He instinctively turned around to find himself locking eyes with a girl. Pale, pudgy, and slightly shorter than him. He could tie a name to the face: Rene Wolfe. All he knew was that they were in the same grade: what little else he knew about her was no longer relevant, thrown out the window by the game they were in. At the very least, she didn't look threatening...
They stared each other down for what felt like forever. He opened his mouth to say something, but a loud bang cut him off. Samuel spun around to find a door in the direction he'd meant to head in had slammed shut. Great, now he was surrounded.
He turned back to the girl, a look of apprehension on his face.
God dammit.
He instinctively turned around to find himself locking eyes with a girl. Pale, pudgy, and slightly shorter than him. He could tie a name to the face: Rene Wolfe. All he knew was that they were in the same grade: what little else he knew about her was no longer relevant, thrown out the window by the game they were in. At the very least, she didn't look threatening...
They stared each other down for what felt like forever. He opened his mouth to say something, but a loud bang cut him off. Samuel spun around to find a door in the direction he'd meant to head in had slammed shut. Great, now he was surrounded.
He turned back to the girl, a look of apprehension on his face.
Rene just stood there, staring, not saying a word. The big guy seemed to have the same plan, just staring silently. One advantage of prolonged staring is that it gives a chance to identify someone that one may have passing knowledge of. Thanks to this, she was ale to recognize them as Sam... Sam... well damn, she didn't think she knew his last name. Anyway, he was Sam, and that was good enough for her.
So now that she knew who she was looking at, that was one problem solved. Of course, she still had to deal with the secondary problem of the... what was that, some kind of crossbow? Anyway, she had to make sure that it didn't wind up pointed at her for any reason.
Maybe Rene would have come up with a plan to defuse the tense yet silent situation. However, anything that she may have said next was immediately interrupted by what sounded an awful lot like a door forcefully slamming down the hall. Her gaze immediately snapped away from Sam and directed itself past him, staring down the hall. Rene finally broke the silence, saying something in an attempt to make the situation just a little less awkward.
"Looks like we're not alone here."
So now that she knew who she was looking at, that was one problem solved. Of course, she still had to deal with the secondary problem of the... what was that, some kind of crossbow? Anyway, she had to make sure that it didn't wind up pointed at her for any reason.
Maybe Rene would have come up with a plan to defuse the tense yet silent situation. However, anything that she may have said next was immediately interrupted by what sounded an awful lot like a door forcefully slamming down the hall. Her gaze immediately snapped away from Sam and directed itself past him, staring down the hall. Rene finally broke the silence, saying something in an attempt to make the situation just a little less awkward.
"Looks like we're not alone here."
-
Ruggahissy
- Posts: 1593
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
Caleb sat with his back to the scratched-up door. There was no noise. He brought his thumb to his mouth and bit it slightly with the nail facing down. The only light coming in was from a window opposite him with bars set into the frame. The light cast from the window formed stripes in the room.
He heard his heart beating, but nothing else. He reached down and unzipped the duffle bag at his feet. The zipper crackled. Still no noise. Maybe whoever was here had left. His hand poked around and felt familiar textures like bottles of water and food bars. He pulled a first aid kit out and inspected it, then put it back. What he wasn't ready for was a clammy rubber feel.
Caleb's mouth pulled into a cynical half-smile. It was a mask of the head of the 37th president of the United States. He put the mask on over his whole head, including his beanie. There were holes for the eyes and a hole for his mouth, though it included Nixon's large teeth as if he was in the middle of a sentence.
"I'll sell our children's organs to zoos for meat," said Caleb in his best Nixon voice, shaking his head to see if the mask was appropriately jowl-y. He was even more hopelessly fucked than before, but it cheered him up a little. Finding his hands had stopped shaking somewhat he pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and successfully lit it, pushing the plume of smoke through the mouth hole in the mask.
He heard his heart beating, but nothing else. He reached down and unzipped the duffle bag at his feet. The zipper crackled. Still no noise. Maybe whoever was here had left. His hand poked around and felt familiar textures like bottles of water and food bars. He pulled a first aid kit out and inspected it, then put it back. What he wasn't ready for was a clammy rubber feel.
Caleb's mouth pulled into a cynical half-smile. It was a mask of the head of the 37th president of the United States. He put the mask on over his whole head, including his beanie. There were holes for the eyes and a hole for his mouth, though it included Nixon's large teeth as if he was in the middle of a sentence.
"I'll sell our children's organs to zoos for meat," said Caleb in his best Nixon voice, shaking his head to see if the mask was appropriately jowl-y. He was even more hopelessly fucked than before, but it cheered him up a little. Finding his hands had stopped shaking somewhat he pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and successfully lit it, pushing the plume of smoke through the mouth hole in the mask.
"No shit," Samuel sighed. Despite his blunt tone, he was glad that she wasn't hostile. In fact, she looked a little worried. He noticed her gaze flicker between his face and the crossbow.
"Uh, don't worry about this," Samuel assured her, holding it up for her to see. "It's not loaded."
It was a stupid thing to say in hindsight. Sure, it may have placated her, but it also could've put Samuel at a disadvantage. Rene didn't look armed, but who knew what she could be hiding behind her back? Or in her bag? Samuel could've just made himself a vulnerable target. Well, at the very least, Rene had tried to to be friendly. So chances were she wasn't going to attack him...yet.
Samuel's thoughts were interrupted a muffled voice coming from down the hallway. He couldn't help but turn his head again. The voice was too distant for him to recognize or understand clearly, but he knew two things: it was a guy, and it didn't sound like he was calling out to them. That meant he was talking to himself - which probably wasn't a good sign.
He turned back to Rene and pointed his thumb down the hallway. "I don't think that guy should be bothered."
"Uh, don't worry about this," Samuel assured her, holding it up for her to see. "It's not loaded."
It was a stupid thing to say in hindsight. Sure, it may have placated her, but it also could've put Samuel at a disadvantage. Rene didn't look armed, but who knew what she could be hiding behind her back? Or in her bag? Samuel could've just made himself a vulnerable target. Well, at the very least, Rene had tried to to be friendly. So chances were she wasn't going to attack him...yet.
Samuel's thoughts were interrupted a muffled voice coming from down the hallway. He couldn't help but turn his head again. The voice was too distant for him to recognize or understand clearly, but he knew two things: it was a guy, and it didn't sound like he was calling out to them. That meant he was talking to himself - which probably wasn't a good sign.
He turned back to Rene and pointed his thumb down the hallway. "I don't think that guy should be bothered."
So on the positive side of things, Sam wasn't going to shoot Rene in the face, at least not immediately. Given the circumstances, she was willing to take whatever she could get in terms of good news. Come to think of it, did she even know what her weapon was? No, no she did not. Rene made a mental note to check that out at some point. That was probably important if she wanted to get a leg up on the whole "not dying" thing.
Wait a moment... oh fuck, did she hear mumbling? Apparently Sam heard it too, since he was looking that direction as well. As far as Rene was concerned, there were only two explanations for quiet, unexplained voices in creepy-as-hell buildings. The first was that there was some creepy guy hiding away who is all set to reenact a slasher flick once the unsuspecting teenagers happen upon him. The other possibility, of course, was ghosts. Since Rene had doubts about the supernatural significance of the island, she was leaning more towards the first option.
Since Sam seemed to be of the notion that they should stay the hell away from whoever was sharing he hall with them, Rene took that as evidence that he was thinking pretty much the same thing. She couldn't argue with that. She just gave a nod and a thumbs up accompanied by a response. "Stay away from the creepy voice behind the door. Gotcha. Any other plans for the time being?"
Wait a moment... oh fuck, did she hear mumbling? Apparently Sam heard it too, since he was looking that direction as well. As far as Rene was concerned, there were only two explanations for quiet, unexplained voices in creepy-as-hell buildings. The first was that there was some creepy guy hiding away who is all set to reenact a slasher flick once the unsuspecting teenagers happen upon him. The other possibility, of course, was ghosts. Since Rene had doubts about the supernatural significance of the island, she was leaning more towards the first option.
Since Sam seemed to be of the notion that they should stay the hell away from whoever was sharing he hall with them, Rene took that as evidence that he was thinking pretty much the same thing. She couldn't argue with that. She just gave a nod and a thumbs up accompanied by a response. "Stay away from the creepy voice behind the door. Gotcha. Any other plans for the time being?"
-
Ruggahissy
- Posts: 1593
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
Caleb continued to sit with his back to the metal door, smoking from behind his mask. He heard them faintly discus him. It didn't seem all that different than regular life. He was aware of how he came off to others and promoted it to some degree.
He pushed that line of thought away for now. Nothing good was going to come from going down that road. He took another drag off his cigarette and held the smoke in his lungs for a moment.
He didn't know who was on the other side of the door. The voices weren't clear enough and didn't sound familiar. If he were to assume that the voices belonged to some of the students that he'd seen around but didn't know well, then what? He didn't like most people, so these unknown entities were not starting with good odds. Part of him wanted to be left alone forever. If he had to die, the thought of staying in his room alone for as long as possible was appealing.
He let the smoke out. Some of it caught behind his mask.
Thinking about his general distaste for most people made him consider the people he did like. He thought about Kimiko and started to feel guilty about staying in his cell. Did he have any obligation to seek her out?
Maybe. The answer wasn't clear.
Caleb tapped his cigarette to shake loose the spent tip.
The sick, light feeling was starting to return. If it came down to the two of them would he be willing to die for his friend, Kimiko? Yes. It was a much easier answer than the first one. Back to the first question. Was Caleb obligated to get up and go find his friend to help her either survive or make her last days as comfortable as possible?
Caleb bit his lip. No, he was under no moral obligation to do this. He sat for a few seconds. Caleb grabbed his duffle bag, slung it over his arm and still sitting on the ground, slowly pushed open the door. He poked his head out to look at the two people. He slowly brought his hand out next to his face and formed a V-shape with his index and middle finger.
He pushed that line of thought away for now. Nothing good was going to come from going down that road. He took another drag off his cigarette and held the smoke in his lungs for a moment.
He didn't know who was on the other side of the door. The voices weren't clear enough and didn't sound familiar. If he were to assume that the voices belonged to some of the students that he'd seen around but didn't know well, then what? He didn't like most people, so these unknown entities were not starting with good odds. Part of him wanted to be left alone forever. If he had to die, the thought of staying in his room alone for as long as possible was appealing.
He let the smoke out. Some of it caught behind his mask.
Thinking about his general distaste for most people made him consider the people he did like. He thought about Kimiko and started to feel guilty about staying in his cell. Did he have any obligation to seek her out?
Maybe. The answer wasn't clear.
Caleb tapped his cigarette to shake loose the spent tip.
The sick, light feeling was starting to return. If it came down to the two of them would he be willing to die for his friend, Kimiko? Yes. It was a much easier answer than the first one. Back to the first question. Was Caleb obligated to get up and go find his friend to help her either survive or make her last days as comfortable as possible?
Caleb bit his lip. No, he was under no moral obligation to do this. He sat for a few seconds. Caleb grabbed his duffle bag, slung it over his arm and still sitting on the ground, slowly pushed open the door. He poked his head out to look at the two people. He slowly brought his hand out next to his face and formed a V-shape with his index and middle finger.
Rene asked if he had plans. Samuel just shrugged in response. He had no idea what he was going to do during his time on the island. Complete compliance or defiance was out of the question: he didn't have it in him to kill someone in cold blood, and he lacked both the drive and the intelligence to pull off an escape plan. He suspected that he'd just blow up.
He figured that all he'd do was wander around until he died. Not the best course of action, but it was the one he'd most likely go with. Maybe he'd find others, people he wanted to spend his last moments with.
The question was, who?
He tried to remember who else was on the trip. He didn't particularly like most of the names that came up, but there were a couple of people he liked. There was Nate, who was an acquaintance at best. Then there was Ty and Junko, who he called friends but they didn't feel close enough to go searching for. And then there was Pe-
Samuel tensed up, and his heart sank. Oh god, Penny. How could he forget? They'd felt lucky to be on the trip on the same day, and now they were both stuck here. She was somewhere in this hellhole, scared shitless and possibly armed.
She was going to die here, too.
The door down the hall creaked open again. Samuel froze, and slowly turned around to see Richard Nixon, flashing a peace sign at him. Under normal circumstances, he would've chuckled at the sight. But the guy wasn't even saying anything, and the fact that they were in an abandoned psych ward elevated it to a whole new level of creepy. He felt speechless, but he did manage to say three words.
"...what the fuck?"
He figured that all he'd do was wander around until he died. Not the best course of action, but it was the one he'd most likely go with. Maybe he'd find others, people he wanted to spend his last moments with.
The question was, who?
He tried to remember who else was on the trip. He didn't particularly like most of the names that came up, but there were a couple of people he liked. There was Nate, who was an acquaintance at best. Then there was Ty and Junko, who he called friends but they didn't feel close enough to go searching for. And then there was Pe-
Samuel tensed up, and his heart sank. Oh god, Penny. How could he forget? They'd felt lucky to be on the trip on the same day, and now they were both stuck here. She was somewhere in this hellhole, scared shitless and possibly armed.
She was going to die here, too.
The door down the hall creaked open again. Samuel froze, and slowly turned around to see Richard Nixon, flashing a peace sign at him. Under normal circumstances, he would've chuckled at the sight. But the guy wasn't even saying anything, and the fact that they were in an abandoned psych ward elevated it to a whole new level of creepy. He felt speechless, but he did manage to say three words.
"...what the fuck?"