Something had happened here. That much was certain. Trying to figure it out was almost enough to make her forget what was happening around her. It was weird, honestly. Victoria Amaro wasn't scared. Sure, she was fearful about the situation she now found herself in, but for whatever reason, the fear hadn't kicked in yet. If it hadn't by now, she couldn't imagine that it would. So instead, she took everything in. More specifically, the house she'd awoken within. It was like any house she'd ever seen before, except for one small detail.
This house had a story to tell, and it wasn't a happy one.
((VICTORIA AMARO GAME START))
Victoria had come to on a couch, and for a moment, she'd imagined herself back at home, having dozed off and remembering that she'd had such a terrible dream. She'd have to tell it to Charles later - he always loved hearing about the bizarre twists and turns that her mind would go when she fell asleep. Of the twins, he could never remember his dreams, while Clayton and Victoria would almost always wake up with a tale to be told.
He'd love to hear about this one. She wasn't much of a storyteller, but because she was more logically inclined, the level of detail that she was able to remember would always be so much more than what Clayton could offer. Perhaps that was why she wasn't scared. This was no dream - this was absolutely a nightmare, but she was awake, which meant that it was real. Fear was never an involuntary emotion that she'd felt and at the moment, it felt like a luxury. Being paralyzed by an emotion while in a fight to the death seemed like a silly thing to have happen.
Victoria wasn't very silly.
Her assigned pack had most of what she'd expected to find within - medical supplies, food, water, and a bonus item: a bulletproof vest, much like those she'd seen on police officers and soldiers. The vest was dark blue, and surprisingly lighter than she'd thought on first glance. If she truly was expected to fight her classmates to the death, this could almost be an 'extra life', and she was thankful for the luck of the draw. She'd slipped it on over her uniform top - she'd stuffed the jacket into the green duffel. So in that regard, she was as prepared as she could be.
Which brought her back to the house.
It was interesting - someone had obviously been here before her, and things had not gone well for them. The sofa she'd been propped up next to was stained dark red, though a discarded blanket lay at the foot of the couch. Most of the furniture in the living room was stacked up against the door at the front of the house, though some was moved to allow for an exit. The couch was carefully braced next to a shelf that had been overturned, obviously to allow for a vantage point to any entrances in the house. Whomever had been staying here had evidently been trying to keep people out. She'd ventured into the kitchen to see what she could find, and had been overly surprised to see that the water still worked in the taps. Someone had opened the cabinets and gone through everything, and as pristine as the kitchen itself appeared to be, there was broken glass on the ground beside the back door that lead outside. She'd looked through the pile of glass, hoping to find something that she might have been able to use as a defensive weapon, but came up empty. They were all too small, not the right size, or unwieldy.
Back in the living room, she'd stopped to take a drink of water when she'd realized that there were bullet holes in the wall on the far side of the room. Careful inspection revealed that the holes in the wall were not bullet holes, but small shots from a shotgun blast. Several small beads of buckshot were still lodged in the wall. Victoria removed one and carefully ran it through her fingers, staring curiously at the flakes that came off of the small iron shot. Blood, obviously. Dried, and old, but undoubtedly blood.
A chill ran down her spine. Someone had died in this house. Her mind was constantly putting the pieces together, and this was one puzzle that seemed abundantly clear. Someone - or several someones, had holed up here, and they had been attacked. That made sense why the house was otherwise clean. If someone had been shot, there should have been much more blood than that of the couch. It should have been all over the floor, and yet? They'd obviously stayed and cleaned things up.
Victoria furrowed her brow as she dropped the buckshot pellet to the floor.
Who would do such a thing? She felt frustrated. It was a mystery that she'd likely never solve, and truly, she had more immediate concerns. Joining whomever the buckshot had passed through was not optimal, and the gravity of her situation still hadn't quite hit her yet.
Or had it?
Walking back over to the couch, she let herself fall back onto it, trying to avoid the darker red stains at the left end. Perhaps that's what threw her off so much - the Americans had come and kidnapped them, were forcing them to fight to the death, and her biggest concern was understanding what had happened to the last inhabitants of the house. Would the fear eventually pop up on her, perhaps when she least expected it? It was hard to say. Somehow she doubted it. Like she'd thought upon waking up - fear was a luxury. Right now, all she felt was... numb.
Numb and curious.
Absently scratching her cheek, Victoria sat on the couch and tried to decide what to do next. There were a myriad of options for her next move - she just needed to figure out which one wouldn't result in her untimely demise.
Willyecho
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Sh4dE
- Posts: 736
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 8:27 pm
- Location: Whittree, Oklahoma
- Team Affiliation: Claudia's Krakens
Cedric stared at the bag that was right there in front of him, an olive duffel bag with an eagle on it. Eyes watered, fists turned into balls and ready to pound the ground he let out a loud "Aaaargh!" before unballing his hands to bury his face under them.
He was dropped in a bedroom. Not on the bed but on the floorspace in front of it. Using his left fist he reached out to his left to punch the table leg softly. "Aaaaaargh!", he repeated.
When he turned around on the ground, stretching his limbs, now lying on his back, he could see it, at the corner of the room he was located at. He did not understand why it was there, but then the pence has been dropped.
Cedric calmly stood up, and looked around the room, not looking at the camera directly. He picked up his bag, it was quite heavy for his weak arms, he wondered what's actually in it. Then he laughed.
Good one.
This was a really well-made prank. Put up a goofy, silly looking "soldier". That guy was a comic, an actor. This is not what Cedric imagined an American soldier to be like. The ones from the movies are strict, intimidating and would call you names. That guy with the fake American accent seemed laid-back and was odd.
But how legal was all of this? He has been drugged, that doesn't seem very legal. He could still feel the drug, and his limbs were still weak from the effects. Deciding to do something against his arm muscles losing against gravity, he put the bag onto his back instead. Cedric could barely remember the details on how real the scene of Mrs. Horton tripping was.
Was this set up too or was this a result of his sick mind paired with the drugs? Who was behind of this? A bastard YouTuber who wants to turn his reaction of being hecking kidnapped into a viral video? Is he part of a new reality TV-show? Or...He recalled the actor who pretended to be an American man, trashing the Queen, he recalled the American helicopters, he recalled the eagle he'd woken up to. It was plausible that he was now involved in a plot by a big organisation spreading heavy Anti-American propaganda.
But no matter how big a company it was, this could never be legal. Cedric could see them bribing the teachers to release them from maths, he could get behind the forcing them into coming with them by fear. But he had been kidnapped without his consent and then trapped in a chair. This was not legal.
Nobody had the rights to-
Then his eyes widened and and he dug his fingers deep into his hair and he exclaimed a silent "whoaaa".
Bloody hell, his mum signed him up for this.
He was dropped in a bedroom. Not on the bed but on the floorspace in front of it. Using his left fist he reached out to his left to punch the table leg softly. "Aaaaaargh!", he repeated.
When he turned around on the ground, stretching his limbs, now lying on his back, he could see it, at the corner of the room he was located at. He did not understand why it was there, but then the pence has been dropped.
Cedric calmly stood up, and looked around the room, not looking at the camera directly. He picked up his bag, it was quite heavy for his weak arms, he wondered what's actually in it. Then he laughed.
Good one.
This was a really well-made prank. Put up a goofy, silly looking "soldier". That guy was a comic, an actor. This is not what Cedric imagined an American soldier to be like. The ones from the movies are strict, intimidating and would call you names. That guy with the fake American accent seemed laid-back and was odd.
But how legal was all of this? He has been drugged, that doesn't seem very legal. He could still feel the drug, and his limbs were still weak from the effects. Deciding to do something against his arm muscles losing against gravity, he put the bag onto his back instead. Cedric could barely remember the details on how real the scene of Mrs. Horton tripping was.
Was this set up too or was this a result of his sick mind paired with the drugs? Who was behind of this? A bastard YouTuber who wants to turn his reaction of being hecking kidnapped into a viral video? Is he part of a new reality TV-show? Or...He recalled the actor who pretended to be an American man, trashing the Queen, he recalled the American helicopters, he recalled the eagle he'd woken up to. It was plausible that he was now involved in a plot by a big organisation spreading heavy Anti-American propaganda.
But no matter how big a company it was, this could never be legal. Cedric could see them bribing the teachers to release them from maths, he could get behind the forcing them into coming with them by fear. But he had been kidnapped without his consent and then trapped in a chair. This was not legal.
Nobody had the rights to-
Then his eyes widened and and he dug his fingers deep into his hair and he exclaimed a silent "whoaaa".
Bloody hell, his mum signed him up for this.
I'm so glad to be back !
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Frozen Smoke
- Posts: 375
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
((Yian Griffiths - START!))
He’d barely been awaken when he’d heard the groan from downstairs of someone else stirring and frozen in place. He’d been carefully taking the... thing, the Americans had decided to give him.
The Americans.
When he’d been thinking about wanting to join the Doctors Without Borders, they were the boogeyman his Mum had always tried to scare him off with.
“Don’t think they won’t shoot Medics, Yian! They kill their own kids for fun!”
It had always been a playful admonishment, accompanied with a promise to get sent to somewhere peaceful, like rural China or India - Preventative medicine, not combat medicine.
So much for all that.
He stayed still for a while. Taking in little gulps of air as his legs ached, the half crouched position straining his thighs horribly, but he didn’t want the person downstairs to know where he was. He didn’t know who they were. Or what they wanted. Or what they had.
The sound of the person sitting down again seemed like a good enough time to move, dropping to one knee, wincing as the floorboard creaked a little, listening intently for any sign that they had he-
“AAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGHHH”
The ear piercing scream made Yian gulp. He couldn’t see out from here, it was a glorified loft, with no windows. There was no way out that wasn’t through whoever was downstairs, either.
“H- Hey! Downstairs... Person! Was that you?!” He called, his voice sounding a little more accusatory than he’d hoped, his tone high pitched and hurried.
He’d barely been awaken when he’d heard the groan from downstairs of someone else stirring and frozen in place. He’d been carefully taking the... thing, the Americans had decided to give him.
The Americans.
When he’d been thinking about wanting to join the Doctors Without Borders, they were the boogeyman his Mum had always tried to scare him off with.
“Don’t think they won’t shoot Medics, Yian! They kill their own kids for fun!”
It had always been a playful admonishment, accompanied with a promise to get sent to somewhere peaceful, like rural China or India - Preventative medicine, not combat medicine.
So much for all that.
He stayed still for a while. Taking in little gulps of air as his legs ached, the half crouched position straining his thighs horribly, but he didn’t want the person downstairs to know where he was. He didn’t know who they were. Or what they wanted. Or what they had.
The sound of the person sitting down again seemed like a good enough time to move, dropping to one knee, wincing as the floorboard creaked a little, listening intently for any sign that they had he-
“AAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGHHH”
The ear piercing scream made Yian gulp. He couldn’t see out from here, it was a glorified loft, with no windows. There was no way out that wasn’t through whoever was downstairs, either.
“H- Hey! Downstairs... Person! Was that you?!” He called, his voice sounding a little more accusatory than he’d hoped, his tone high pitched and hurried.
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Cactus
- Posts: 295
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
- Location: Toronto, Canada
- Team Affiliation: Malcolm's Mariners
There were so many noises all at once, both of which caused Victoria to tense up and freeze in place, like a startled cat. Immediately hyper-aware, she quickly jumped from the sofa onto her feet, preparing to run if need be. The first sound had been a loud groan, a yell, an exclamation of some sort, though it was muffled and came from above her.
Somebody was upstairs.
She hadn't checked the upper floors, and was immediately grateful that she hadn't. At this point, she had an escape if need be. The groan must have been someone waking up, probably taking in their situation and reacting accordingly. The second was another voice, coming from somewhere completely different in the house.
There were several somebody's upstairs.
Controlling her breathing, Victoria took stock of her own situation. Her classmates weren't likely to be overly vicious from the beginning of this ordeal, primarily because they all knew each other, had preexisting relationships, friendships, and romances. She suspected that the Americans would add certain wrinkles into their plan, because British teenagers tended not to have the same sort of violent nature that was bred into the American teenagers. American culture involved a lot of warmongering, whereas the British weren't like that.
Victoria didn't feel any pride about that piece of knowledge, it was just a fact. Much like the fact that those preexisting relationships that would keep many of her classmates safe weren't exactly things that she could rely upon. She wasn't the social butterfly that some of the others were. She knew names and faces, but other than some of her track teammates - many of whom weren't here - she couldn't put her finger on any name that she could overly trust.
She was an unknown quantity, to many of them, and that likely made her simultaneously dangerous, and a target.
Furrowing her brow, Victoria finished her mental calculations, and decided to stay silent. By all accounts, two people were upstairs, one of them was talking, and she'd rather find out by proxy if either were feeling like they needed an excuse.
Quietly she waited, poised to run at a moment's notice, eyes fixed on the staircase leading up.
Somebody was upstairs.
She hadn't checked the upper floors, and was immediately grateful that she hadn't. At this point, she had an escape if need be. The groan must have been someone waking up, probably taking in their situation and reacting accordingly. The second was another voice, coming from somewhere completely different in the house.
There were several somebody's upstairs.
Controlling her breathing, Victoria took stock of her own situation. Her classmates weren't likely to be overly vicious from the beginning of this ordeal, primarily because they all knew each other, had preexisting relationships, friendships, and romances. She suspected that the Americans would add certain wrinkles into their plan, because British teenagers tended not to have the same sort of violent nature that was bred into the American teenagers. American culture involved a lot of warmongering, whereas the British weren't like that.
Victoria didn't feel any pride about that piece of knowledge, it was just a fact. Much like the fact that those preexisting relationships that would keep many of her classmates safe weren't exactly things that she could rely upon. She wasn't the social butterfly that some of the others were. She knew names and faces, but other than some of her track teammates - many of whom weren't here - she couldn't put her finger on any name that she could overly trust.
She was an unknown quantity, to many of them, and that likely made her simultaneously dangerous, and a target.
Furrowing her brow, Victoria finished her mental calculations, and decided to stay silent. By all accounts, two people were upstairs, one of them was talking, and she'd rather find out by proxy if either were feeling like they needed an excuse.
Quietly she waited, poised to run at a moment's notice, eyes fixed on the staircase leading up.
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Sh4dE
- Posts: 736
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 8:27 pm
- Location: Whittree, Oklahoma
- Team Affiliation: Claudia's Krakens
Cedric thoughts were interrupted by a voice coming from outside the room. Suddenly, he could feel his heart pounding harder. They were talking with someone else, possibly plotting something.
Shitshitshit.
He looked around the room, and tried to find an exit. He stormed to the window, opened it, looked down and realized that he didn't really want to jump out of the window or climb his way down at this height. That was too dangerous. He could hurt himself and that's not something his kidnappers could be accountable for. Avoiding a dumb decision, he decided to use the door instead.
So he was standing in front of the door, his hands shaking while slowly opening the door that lead to a small empty corridor that was showing the first steps of the stairs leading downward. Shitshitshit, he wasn't even armed. Cedric quickly thought what he had with him. He couldn't find anything useful in his pockets so he had to improvise. He unfastened his belt and removed it to hold it in a tauted way with both of his hands.
So, armed with his belt, and slacks that were now loose, he slowly walked down the stairs, step-by-step until he could see Victoria. Then he stopped.
Shitshitshit.
He looked around the room, and tried to find an exit. He stormed to the window, opened it, looked down and realized that he didn't really want to jump out of the window or climb his way down at this height. That was too dangerous. He could hurt himself and that's not something his kidnappers could be accountable for. Avoiding a dumb decision, he decided to use the door instead.
So he was standing in front of the door, his hands shaking while slowly opening the door that lead to a small empty corridor that was showing the first steps of the stairs leading downward. Shitshitshit, he wasn't even armed. Cedric quickly thought what he had with him. He couldn't find anything useful in his pockets so he had to improvise. He unfastened his belt and removed it to hold it in a tauted way with both of his hands.
So, armed with his belt, and slacks that were now loose, he slowly walked down the stairs, step-by-step until he could see Victoria. Then he stopped.
I'm so glad to be back !
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Frozen Smoke
- Posts: 375
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
There was no response.
That wasn't good at all. Outside person wasn't making any more noise now, and that also wasn't good. Either he wasn't very hurt, or he was very hurt indeed.
"If they're screaming they're breathing."
That was what one of his instructors had said. What did that mean for people who stopped screaming?
He looked at the hunk of metal and wood in his hands, trying to figure out a way to hold it that would keep the barrels pointed away from both himself and whoever was downstairs if they came up the stairs, all whilst keeping his finger as far away from the trigger as he could. He wasn't entirely sure something this old was safe to fire in the first place, but it was probably enough to scare someone, and if downstairs person wasn't responsible for the stopped-screaming, then he didn't want to scare them either.
Yian gulped.
He took a step forwards.
The floorboard creaked as soon as he put his foot forwards, and he tried to slow down his step, which only made the sound longer and lower as his weight slowly pressed onto it.
"Coc oen."
That wasn't good at all. Outside person wasn't making any more noise now, and that also wasn't good. Either he wasn't very hurt, or he was very hurt indeed.
"If they're screaming they're breathing."
That was what one of his instructors had said. What did that mean for people who stopped screaming?
He looked at the hunk of metal and wood in his hands, trying to figure out a way to hold it that would keep the barrels pointed away from both himself and whoever was downstairs if they came up the stairs, all whilst keeping his finger as far away from the trigger as he could. He wasn't entirely sure something this old was safe to fire in the first place, but it was probably enough to scare someone, and if downstairs person wasn't responsible for the stopped-screaming, then he didn't want to scare them either.
Yian gulped.
He took a step forwards.
The floorboard creaked as soon as he put his foot forwards, and he tried to slow down his step, which only made the sound longer and lower as his weight slowly pressed onto it.
"Coc oen."
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Cactus
- Posts: 295
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
- Location: Toronto, Canada
- Team Affiliation: Malcolm's Mariners
Victoria swallowed the feeling of foreboding with a silent gulp. Still, the fear that she'd been expecting to show up had not, but something far more interesting had instead. As she stayed perfectly still, bracing herself against the wall at the side of the living room, a figure slowly made his way down the stairs. When he saw her - the face wasn't familiar, so sucks to that - he froze, and the two of them stood, staring at one another.
The boy held something in his hand, it looked like a belt or a whip or something of that nature. She couldn't tell what it was in the dimly lit living room. Perhaps this boy's accessory draw had been even less fortunate than her own. The silence seemed to engulf the room, spreading a chasm between the two of them that only amplified the longer they both stood, frozen in place. Victoria wasn't about to make the first move. She didn't know what to say, who he was, and she wanted to be prepared to sprint the other way if need be.
As her brain processed all of the information in front of her, a loud creak echoed down from upstairs, the second person obviously moving around and curious to the other inhabitants of the house. Her eyes shot to the ceiling where the noise originated Victoria tensed up once more as the person upstairs muttered something she couldn't make out. Looking back at the boy on the steps, she jerked her head upward at the sound and then looked expectantly at the newcomer, as if to demand explanation.
Yet still, she said nothing. Victoria wanted to react rather than act and she sensed that she would have that opportunity once all of the variables presented themselves.
The boy held something in his hand, it looked like a belt or a whip or something of that nature. She couldn't tell what it was in the dimly lit living room. Perhaps this boy's accessory draw had been even less fortunate than her own. The silence seemed to engulf the room, spreading a chasm between the two of them that only amplified the longer they both stood, frozen in place. Victoria wasn't about to make the first move. She didn't know what to say, who he was, and she wanted to be prepared to sprint the other way if need be.
As her brain processed all of the information in front of her, a loud creak echoed down from upstairs, the second person obviously moving around and curious to the other inhabitants of the house. Her eyes shot to the ceiling where the noise originated Victoria tensed up once more as the person upstairs muttered something she couldn't make out. Looking back at the boy on the steps, she jerked her head upward at the sound and then looked expectantly at the newcomer, as if to demand explanation.
Yet still, she said nothing. Victoria wanted to react rather than act and she sensed that she would have that opportunity once all of the variables presented themselves.
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Sh4dE
- Posts: 736
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 8:27 pm
- Location: Whittree, Oklahoma
- Team Affiliation: Claudia's Krakens
Therewassomeonebehindhimtherewassomeonebehindh-
His eyed widened at Victoria to the max to show a reaction for the fact that someone unexpectedly was behind him. Cedric did the first thing that came to his adrenaline-rushed mind and turned around 180 degrees, jumped up the stairs and lashed out his belt at the boy who had sneaked up behind him.
"Aaargh!"
His eyed widened at Victoria to the max to show a reaction for the fact that someone unexpectedly was behind him. Cedric did the first thing that came to his adrenaline-rushed mind and turned around 180 degrees, jumped up the stairs and lashed out his belt at the boy who had sneaked up behind him.
"Aaargh!"
I'm so glad to be back !
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Frozen Smoke
- Posts: 375
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
Yian's eye's went wide as he heard footsteps rapidly advancing in his direction. His mouth felt dry, and everything felt like it was in slow motion, but he was unable to do anything about it - Like he was encased in amber. There was a shout of something, anger, rage, whatever, he wasn't sure, then something hit him. He wasn't sure what it was, but it came out of the darkness like a bullet as he saw his assailant's crazed eyes burning in the darkness, whizzing towards his face.
It hit him just above the eye, impacting his eyebrow? Forehead? He wasn't sure, he felt off balance all of a sudden, there was a few drops of blood - his own blood - dripping down his head now, getting into his eyes. He tried to blink it away as he stumbled backwards, reaching one hand away from the heavy object in his hand up to the wound. It felt numb. That was a really bad sign, wasn't it. It took him a moment to realise he'd lifted up his left hand.
His grip around the trigger tightened as he struggled to keep a grip on the monstrosity.
The sound and flash and smoke of 5 simultaneous black powder shots going off filled the room, staggering him even further, and now he couldn't even tell what was going on. His ears were ringing, everything looked completely dark with a hazy filter over the top of it, he could feel his blood stinging in his eyes, taste it on his tongue.
Finally, he reacted. In the only appropriate way.
He screamed in terror and tried to run from the choking, black hole he'd been started in. He didn't know where he was going, but anywhere but here. ANYWHERE.
((Yian Griffiths continued elsewhere))
It hit him just above the eye, impacting his eyebrow? Forehead? He wasn't sure, he felt off balance all of a sudden, there was a few drops of blood - his own blood - dripping down his head now, getting into his eyes. He tried to blink it away as he stumbled backwards, reaching one hand away from the heavy object in his hand up to the wound. It felt numb. That was a really bad sign, wasn't it. It took him a moment to realise he'd lifted up his left hand.
His grip around the trigger tightened as he struggled to keep a grip on the monstrosity.
The sound and flash and smoke of 5 simultaneous black powder shots going off filled the room, staggering him even further, and now he couldn't even tell what was going on. His ears were ringing, everything looked completely dark with a hazy filter over the top of it, he could feel his blood stinging in his eyes, taste it on his tongue.
Finally, he reacted. In the only appropriate way.
He screamed in terror and tried to run from the choking, black hole he'd been started in. He didn't know where he was going, but anywhere but here. ANYWHERE.
((Yian Griffiths continued elsewhere))
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Sh4dE
- Posts: 736
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 8:27 pm
- Location: Whittree, Oklahoma
- Team Affiliation: Claudia's Krakens
Cedric's vision recognised the little wankstain who had sneaked up on him as Yian Griffiths, who he managed to hit hard enough for him to bleed, surprisingly. But, shitshitshit, Yian pulled out a gun, while Cedric was only armed with his belt. Cedric took another swing trying to knock out the gun from Yian's hand but the fat boy shot first before he had a chance.
The area was suddenly filled with smoke and his ears were deafened by the unexpected loudness of a gun at this range. Cedric's nose was filled with the smell of the sudden gunsmoke and he could feel his chest being pierced three times which lead him to be sent backwards, unwillingly.
Two things rattled down the stairs simultanously. At first the belt that Cedric let go off after having heard the gunshot. Quickly afterwards, Cedric Isaacson crashed down the stairs, landing some meters away from Victoria, with his eyes blankly staring at the ceiling.
M01 - Cedric Isaacson - Deceased
The area was suddenly filled with smoke and his ears were deafened by the unexpected loudness of a gun at this range. Cedric's nose was filled with the smell of the sudden gunsmoke and he could feel his chest being pierced three times which lead him to be sent backwards, unwillingly.
Two things rattled down the stairs simultanously. At first the belt that Cedric let go off after having heard the gunshot. Quickly afterwards, Cedric Isaacson crashed down the stairs, landing some meters away from Victoria, with his eyes blankly staring at the ceiling.
M01 - Cedric Isaacson - Deceased
I'm so glad to be back !
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Cactus
- Posts: 295
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
- Location: Toronto, Canada
- Team Affiliation: Malcolm's Mariners
Everything happened quickly, but aside from tensing up at the unmistakable sound of gunshots, Victoria didn't move from the wall she'd flattened herself against. Living in England in the present era meant that most students - most children, herself included - were aware of what gunfire sounded like. Bomb drills were common, and her own village had buildings that were remnants of American attacks. So the gunfire, while jarring in how loud it was as it echoed down the stairs, didn't scare her. If anything, it just put her on the alert even more. As she controlled her breathing, not letting her heart rate start to pulse, she shifted against the wall and felt one of the vest clips dig into her back. A momentary inconvenience, but she was happy that she had it. Particularly since it seemed like whomever else was upstairs had a gun.
The gunshots hadn't scared her, but her heart rate finally quickened as something came tumbling down the stairs with several loud thuds, not stopping until it came to a rest in front of her. Finally, she felt something; fear didn't seem to want to show itself, but the urge to run, to flee, to get the fuck out of dodge was all that repeated through her head as she came face-to-face with the awful reality.
The kid from the stairs had gone up, and just as quickly, he had come back down - this time with several unwelcome visitors buried within his chest. In the mild light from the partially covered windows, Victoria studied the unmoving, waxy features of the kid on the ground. She didn't know him, and like the Americans wanted, whomever was upstairs had killed him. Swallowing some saliva in her suddenly dry mouth, Victoria took a deep breath in. She needed to get out of here - NOW. Who knew what the person upstairs was thinking, after all? A bulletproof vest was a welcome companion, but she gathered that putting it to the test so soon wasn't a smart call. Taking in the body on the ground, she exhaled slowly. The kid had been shot, and the fall had dislodged his pack - a very similar if not identical one to the duffel bag that Victoria had awoken to find next to herself. It lay, half on one arm and half off.
It took her all of a second to make a decision. It was pragmatic, practical, and made her feel a little ghoulish, but she knew that her odds of survival increased with more supplies. The longer she could survive, the more she would be scarce on food and medical supplies, and there was only one finite resource for those things around: her fellow classmates. It was only logical that if she passed by a body, she should replenish her things. So that was good - she had a priority, a plan of action.
Taking two steps forward, she grabbed the one handle of the duffel bag and gave it a yank. The body on the floor flopped over and didn't give her any resistance, collapsing to the ground as she removed the green bag from the other arm of her dead classmate. Staring at the stairs most of the time, Victoria let the body fall back with a splat, blood continuing to seep from the fresh wounds that had ended his life. The pack itself was only slightly stained, and it seemed like one of the bullets had managed to enter it, but otherwise everything was in order. It was heavier than hers, too. Whatever secrets it contained could be discovered later. Whomever was upstairs had likely heard the movement, and would be down to perhaps finish the job.
Turning on her heel, Victoria cleared the room in three strides, leaning over to scoop her own pack up as she went. Slipping around the moved barricade in front of the front door to the house, she threw the door open, grimacing as the sunlight caused her to squint. The second bag wouldn't slow her down that much, but she needed to get somewhere to consolidate as soon as possible. Allowing a moment for her eyes to adjust, she saw the treeline, and took off toward it. She needed to find a safe space to regroup.
Preferably somewhere without somebody shooting at her.
Without a corpse, too. That'd be nice.
((Victoria Amaro continued in I Ran (So Far Away)))
The gunshots hadn't scared her, but her heart rate finally quickened as something came tumbling down the stairs with several loud thuds, not stopping until it came to a rest in front of her. Finally, she felt something; fear didn't seem to want to show itself, but the urge to run, to flee, to get the fuck out of dodge was all that repeated through her head as she came face-to-face with the awful reality.
The kid from the stairs had gone up, and just as quickly, he had come back down - this time with several unwelcome visitors buried within his chest. In the mild light from the partially covered windows, Victoria studied the unmoving, waxy features of the kid on the ground. She didn't know him, and like the Americans wanted, whomever was upstairs had killed him. Swallowing some saliva in her suddenly dry mouth, Victoria took a deep breath in. She needed to get out of here - NOW. Who knew what the person upstairs was thinking, after all? A bulletproof vest was a welcome companion, but she gathered that putting it to the test so soon wasn't a smart call. Taking in the body on the ground, she exhaled slowly. The kid had been shot, and the fall had dislodged his pack - a very similar if not identical one to the duffel bag that Victoria had awoken to find next to herself. It lay, half on one arm and half off.
It took her all of a second to make a decision. It was pragmatic, practical, and made her feel a little ghoulish, but she knew that her odds of survival increased with more supplies. The longer she could survive, the more she would be scarce on food and medical supplies, and there was only one finite resource for those things around: her fellow classmates. It was only logical that if she passed by a body, she should replenish her things. So that was good - she had a priority, a plan of action.
Taking two steps forward, she grabbed the one handle of the duffel bag and gave it a yank. The body on the floor flopped over and didn't give her any resistance, collapsing to the ground as she removed the green bag from the other arm of her dead classmate. Staring at the stairs most of the time, Victoria let the body fall back with a splat, blood continuing to seep from the fresh wounds that had ended his life. The pack itself was only slightly stained, and it seemed like one of the bullets had managed to enter it, but otherwise everything was in order. It was heavier than hers, too. Whatever secrets it contained could be discovered later. Whomever was upstairs had likely heard the movement, and would be down to perhaps finish the job.
Turning on her heel, Victoria cleared the room in three strides, leaning over to scoop her own pack up as she went. Slipping around the moved barricade in front of the front door to the house, she threw the door open, grimacing as the sunlight caused her to squint. The second bag wouldn't slow her down that much, but she needed to get somewhere to consolidate as soon as possible. Allowing a moment for her eyes to adjust, she saw the treeline, and took off toward it. She needed to find a safe space to regroup.
Preferably somewhere without somebody shooting at her.
Without a corpse, too. That'd be nice.
((Victoria Amaro continued in I Ran (So Far Away)))