A World Called Despair - Black Site IC

Black site. This is the code name they gave to the quarantine area of northern Idaho. Not much is known about the reason this area is quarantined to the General public. That means you are just as in the dark as the drunk man sitting next to you. In fact, you dont even know about black Site. Not yet anyways. Unless you lived in the small town that it consist of, or know someone who does, how could you? The media showed nothing of the event in the news. And it seemed that any information put up online was soon taken down. All that is known to the select few in the public who choose to look hard for information about Black site, is that last year a large meteor hit, killing over 300 people. They say that the found an unknown material in the meteor. A new Element not found on the periodic table. Little did you know, that the Problems at Black Site are about to become your problem.

But this information means nothing to you. Right now you are winding down from a long day by drinking a beer at The Skunk, A local bar that just opened in down town Seattle Washington. A man across the bar appears to have had one too many. He is slumped over on the counter passed out. How many is that for you? 4, maybe 5 drinks? Maybe more, or maybe less?

The news reporter is talking about mysterious deaths, and mangled bodies found around town. It looks like a serial killer had been ripping people apart with the ferocity of animals. You dont think much about these mysterious deaths. I mean, why would you? You are actually so caught up in not paying attention, that you neglect to notice the military vehicles that pass by every so often.

So what do you do? Do you pound another one and drift off into your own inebriated consciousness? Maybe you want to socialize with the other people in the bar. After all, there are quite a few of them. And on a similar note, what where you doing before you got to the bar? Take this opportunity to explain a little bit about yourself. For little do you know, these are your last few moments of peace before you are thrown into the hellish nightmare world called Despair.

As Alexander walks into the bar, he can't help but notice people glance over at him. Or, rather, the scar spider-webbing down his arm and across his cheek. As usual, he shrugs it off and takes a seat at the bar. "What'll it be?" the bartender asks him after an awkward silence in which he couldn't seem to take his eyes off of Alex's scar.

"Just some water, please," he replies.

The bartender nods and turns around, getting Alex's drink. Glancing up at the television, he sees the news report about the bodies. Although he only recently graduated from the academy, he's already been to a few of those calls. The only reason he's at the bar is because it's his day off and he doesn't have anything better to do. He still shudders at the memory of those poor people, torn apart by the roaming psychopath. One of these days, he'll get his, he thinks, taking a sip from his water. Even now, after what he's seen in his short time as a cop, he refuses to start drinking. There are better alternatives to get his mind off of it. He looks at the man down on the other end. Hope he doesn't plan on driving, he thinks, watching the man slump over the counter.

Turning his attention back toward the television, he starts thinking about his teenage years, all the fights, which seem so far away now. The scar over his left eye seems to throb as he remembers the fight that lead to him changing his life. And then what he saw after almost dying. Smiling, he says a silent thank you, both to the man and whoever sent him that vision, as he finishes his water and asks for another.

Frank walked into the bar, his knuckles in his pocket and his knife in his boot. He had heard about the murders and decided to be better safe than sorry. His baseball bat was also out in the back of his truck. After all, one can't go wrong with a good old fashioned baseball bat. He scanned the bar, looking for the drunks and such to avoid and the others to drink with. His eyes landed on a man with his back to him and a scar spider webbing down his arm. Frank gave a small smile. Walking over he sat down next to the man and said

"Why hello there Officer Alexander. Been a while since I've seen you at the shop. Anything new happening?" Alexander had been one of the police officers who would occasionally walk in to check on him and make sure he hasn't killed anybody yet. After all, they wouldn't want Frank to mistake someone for a thief and murder them, only to realize his mistake and try to hide his crime. Well, that's the way Franks line of thought went. His eyes wandered to the TV and he gave a soft curse. "Whoever is doing this will get what's his. Even if I have to find him myself." Frank said, conveniently forgetting that he was right next to a police officer and speaking of Vigilante justice. One tends to forget that when speaking of a murderer of one of his friends.

The Bar tender handed the water to the man. "What a fucking prick, he thought to himself" Scolding the man in his mind "Who the fuck comes to a bad and doens't drink? I get payed in tips, asshole, and the bar doesn't make any money if you loiter around and don't pay." The bartender briefly considered spitting in the water, but it was bad for business on opening night. The man asked for another, like some kinda jerk, so the man took the liberty to use a dirty glass. He filled it up and watched as the man took a drink. A small smile crossing his face.

Michelle was watching the TV. She finished up her one vodka shot and slammed it on the bar. "Serial killer?" she muttered to herself, rubbing her chin in concern. A few doubts were clouding her already slightly cloudy mind. "I don't think there's nobody to catch..." She watched, out of the corner of her eye, the bartender fill up a slightly smudged glass with water and handing it to a man. She smirked but said nothing. She wasn't the kind of woman to scream out: "I'm gonna call the Better Business Bureau on yo' ass!"

"'Nother shot, Bailey," she said to the man, keeping an eye on which glass he'd take.

Romy had just gotten out of class and was walking down the sidewalk towards the gym. She shifted her messenger bag on her shoulder, the weight from her books and personal belongings a little heavy for her. She sighed and glanced at her cell phone. She still had a good hour before her father expected her at the gym, considering her last class had gotten cancelled, and she wasn’t ready to head in early. She paused her walking and glanced up, seeing the new bar that had been under construction was now open for business right along her path. She smirked and decided to go in for a few drinks. After all, alcohol would give her a good burst of energy, and she’d burn off the calories once she got where she needed to be. She walked in and saw plenty of people already inside. A woman, a man slumped over the bar, two men talking… she pursed her lips, making a ‘hmm’ noise, before choosing a seat between the woman and the two men. She dropped her bag on the floor, making a heavy thud before she smiled brightly at the bartender. She didn’t bother getting her i.d. out, always seeming to forget someone might not think she looked 21 yet.

“Tom Collins please,” she asked. She knew it was an old drink, but once her father had told her when she was younger it was her mother’s favorite. It had become hers partially for that connection. She folded her tan arms across the edge of the bar in front of her, her brown eyes flickering over to the tv. She turned her head slightly to listen to the news, her long brown hair falling across her face as she did.

As you sit there, doing whatever mundane task you are doing, you start to notice something. The drunk man on the counter begins to shake a little. Then a lot. Bulges begin to form on his back. His head lifts up as he screams out in shear agony "OH GOD HELP ME PLEASE!"

You hear a loud crack as his neck snapps back, dangling at his shoulders. With an intense spray of blood his throat begins to split open. And out from inside, several large bugs begin to crawl out. They are roughly 6 inches long and simular to a spider with a longer back section. The first one to pop out Flies forward, Landing on the face of the unsuspecting bartender.

"FUCK FUCK! Get it off of me!" He screams as the monster burrowed its way into the new host. The man went stiff. His fingers began to tense up as he stood there. You can hardly move. your heart is beating faster then it ever has before. Sweat pours down your face as you watch in horror. "Please help me! Its eating me from the inside, I can feel it!" The man yelled out, pleading to those around him.

His forearms begin to warp as sharp bone rips through his Arms. The bone inside of his body expanded, leaving sharp and gagged ends hanging out. His rib care extended out, leaving sharp bone pertruding forth. More bugs start to swarm from the first body as the bar tender collapses to the floor. The begin to swarm and attack the people within the crowded bar. Fear strikes you as you know you have do do something, yet can only scream and hope you are not one of the victims.

Luckily you are not, as all the bugs find a new host. Warping them to a new creation of hellish evil. And for a moment, everything is quiet. The bodies of those infected lay on the floor. You feel as if the worst is over. You can leave this place and forget it ever happened.

Until the bartender gets up. A brutal scream rises from his belly as he leaps from the counter. driving his teeth int the man across from him, ripping his throat out. All of the infected begin to rise and attack. What do you do? Do you look for a back door? Run out the front? Stay and fight. The possibilities are endless, but you had better act quickly. These creatures are not going to wait for you.

"Hey, Frank," Alex replies. "Not much, it's just my day off." He glances at his watch. "Actually, I better be going. I still gotta make a run to the store. Try not to gut anyone with that knife of yours, 'kay?"

He was reaching back to get his wallet so he can hand the bartender money for the water. A twenty should be fine, he thinks. Although it was only water, he wouldn't feel right just paying him for that. He just reached into his pocket when the drunk man screamed. As his head snapped back and the creatures came out in a torrent of blood, Alex watched, horrified as the things climbed into some patrons. His eyes widened even further as the victims stood back up and it took him a bit of time, enough for the bartender to attack the man who was just across from him, for Alex to find his voice. "EVERYONE, OUT NOW!!"

Out of instinct, he reached for his gun, but remembered it's still in it's holster back at home, along with his uniform. One of the disfigured people started lumbering toward him. As it lunged, Alex grabbed the stool he was just sitting on and hit the creature in the head, hard enough to break the stool. Quickly, he bends over and picks up one of the splintered legs, holding it front of him while backing toward the exit, keeping his eyes on the monsters.

Jillian Stanger wasn't the happiest camper. Even with the amount of friends she had, she was left with no one to hang out with because they were all busy with something or the other. Her fingers tapped against the steering wheel as she drove towards a bar she had been keeping her eye on that had just opened up. The Skunk or something like that it was called. Considering the bar had just opened up, she expected it to busy, and that meant new people. New friends. A new crowd. She felt herself getting antsy as she tapped away on the wheel before pulling into the parking lot of the new bar. She parked her car and got out, relieved to see other cars. She began to tap her hands against her leg, needing something to do with them, as her other closed her front door. She walked towards the bar, excited to see new faces and make new friends. She paused a little when she thought she heard a scream come from the inside of the bar. Slowly, she pushed the door opened and stepped inside. Her back pressed against the wall as she gasped, seeing the bartender getting attacked by some creature. Her eyes grew wide as she watched in horror, not sure what to do. She should be slipping back outside but her muscles felt paralyzed. She couldn't will herself to slip back outside as she watched more of those creatures attack other people. She covered her mouth, not sure if she should scream or yell something or what.

She didn't want to come to this kind of bar. She shrunk against the wall, wishing it would swallow her whole, as she watched the people she thought were dead get back up. A scream does escape her lips as she watched the bartender rip a man's throat out, blood spraying everywhere, but her scream got lost within the man's. She jerked from her trance of watching people getting torn to bits when a man yelled for everyone to get out. She let out a sharp breath, her hands shaky as she grabbed the door knob and ripped the door open. "C'mon everyone!" she yelled, holding the door opened for anyone who was trying to get out. She watched in pure terror as one of the creatures jumped on someone with a shriek and began to tear into them. She still felt frozen in place as she kept the door opened with her back, watching all the blood shed unfolding around her. One of the creatures turned on her, snarling with blood dripping down its jaw as this horrible sound left its lips. It made her flinch and she looked around for something to defend herself. Spotting a dart board on the wall, she jumped for it as the bloody thing jumped for her. She ripped it from the wall and swung around. She caught the snarling thing in the jaw, making it fall to a heap in the floor. She felt panic and fear raising in her, choking her, and she was afraid it would get back up. She slammed the dart board onto its head, blood splattering onto her boots and jeans, and she jumped back, into the door, holding the dart board up shakily.

Frank chuckled. "No promises." He was about to call the bartender for a shot of whiskey when all hell broke loose. Frank could only stare as first the drunk, then the bartender had....something..enter them and infect them. For a few seconds all was quite. Frank got up, and was about to ask everyone still alive to leave, when all hell broke loose. Before Frank could react, the bartender and several other monstrosities were eating other residents of the bar. One of the monsters attempted to eat Frank. He pushed the creature off, narrowly avoiding the bone spikes, and put on his knuckles on his right hand and drew his knife with the left. The creation attacked and Frank nailed it in the skull, sending it back a step, before slamming his knife into the creatures head. Blood splattered over Franks face upper body. Wiping his face with the bartenders cloth, Frank fell back along with other survivors. Alexander wielding a couple of sticks, and a woman wielding a Dart board. "So. This is..an interesting evening is it not?" Frank asked, eyeing the monsters, his knife and knuckles ready.