I'll be Their Bogeyman
Posted: Wed Jan 16, 2019 8:35 am
((Rutherford "R.J." Roger Jr.: B032 -V5- Continued From OX/3))
As R.J. lied in the coffin, he thought of whether or not to leave it. If he died in here, it'd be the closest thing he would get to a proper burial on this island. Or anyone else like Cap, Mark, or Luca would get either. Maybe it was selfish, hogging the surprisingly cool coffin to himself. Maybe it was finders keepers. Still, it wasn't like he had planned to stay for long. He was only here because it was the closest thing he could call a shelter that didn't make the collar beep. He had to find something after leaving the obstacle course, he had barely slept a wink. Maybe there were better places to sleep, like the floor, but he doubted they had cushions.
Mark's body was still close by somewhere in this amusement park. Splattered. He was keeping his arms busy, pushing up the coffin lid, then let it fall back into his palms. Repeat. Up and down...open and close...quick glances of the decorations of the interior around him. Monsters, ghosts, spiders, all that cheesy stuff. New things with each push. Only one constant, no matter the position of the coffin lid. R.J. eyes began to close out of tiredness. He slept.
Dark.
"El Cucuy"
Nope.
R.J's eyes broke open. The coffin was still closed. His body acted on it's own and rocked around out of panic. He could feel it falling off the table, along with the wooden trap. His bag and himself spiraled upside down. There was a loud banging noise, along with a small clicking one. His cheek was now smushed against the lid. He tried pushing himself off of it, but the coffin had put all of it's weight on him. He was stuck. As best as the muffling coffin would allow, he pleaded for assistance.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuckin' heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelp meeeeeeeeeeee"
Repeat.
As R.J. lied in the coffin, he thought of whether or not to leave it. If he died in here, it'd be the closest thing he would get to a proper burial on this island. Or anyone else like Cap, Mark, or Luca would get either. Maybe it was selfish, hogging the surprisingly cool coffin to himself. Maybe it was finders keepers. Still, it wasn't like he had planned to stay for long. He was only here because it was the closest thing he could call a shelter that didn't make the collar beep. He had to find something after leaving the obstacle course, he had barely slept a wink. Maybe there were better places to sleep, like the floor, but he doubted they had cushions.
Mark's body was still close by somewhere in this amusement park. Splattered. He was keeping his arms busy, pushing up the coffin lid, then let it fall back into his palms. Repeat. Up and down...open and close...quick glances of the decorations of the interior around him. Monsters, ghosts, spiders, all that cheesy stuff. New things with each push. Only one constant, no matter the position of the coffin lid. R.J. eyes began to close out of tiredness. He slept.
Dark.
"El Cucuy"
Nope.
R.J's eyes broke open. The coffin was still closed. His body acted on it's own and rocked around out of panic. He could feel it falling off the table, along with the wooden trap. His bag and himself spiraled upside down. There was a loud banging noise, along with a small clicking one. His cheek was now smushed against the lid. He tried pushing himself off of it, but the coffin had put all of it's weight on him. He was stuck. As best as the muffling coffin would allow, he pleaded for assistance.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuckin' heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelp meeeeeeeeeeee"
Repeat.