---

^{@Zombiedude101}
Thompson Lumber Mill Inc - Interior

---

Kimberly was still groggy (and in pain) from that fall.

She saw a shape appear above her, and she rubbed her eyes. She wondered if she was still hearing things when the shape talked, asking if she was okay. Her vision was still bad - everything was spinning! Maybe she should learn to fall on her ass better. She scratched her head for a moment as she sat up, looking at the stranger.

"Y-yeah," Kimberly said as she looked at the person. "Unless this is hell, I'm very much alive."

She pushed herself up to her feet, and looked around. The room was dark, and she couldn't see a thing. Of course... she reached into her pocket and pulled out her cellphone - going through apps until she found her flashlight. She spoke as she shined it forward, "Can you just help me get out of here-"

Her line of thought was immediately cut off when she shined the light forward, and saw a horrid sight. One that immediately made her drop her phone, taking steps back out of sheer fear and disgust of the sight. She loudly gasped, covering her mouth not to make too much noise.

The horrid sight?

It was her.

Or, at least, a twisted, grim reflection of the girl. One that was horribly mangled beyond all belief. Eyes were torn out, and bleeding profusely. Her limbs were twisted and broken into pieces, almost as if it was deliberate. Her stomach was torn open, and her intestines were hanging out in a viscera display straight out of horror movies. Just hanging out, touching the floor. The copy of Kimberly smiled, as it took a slow step forward. Coming from it's feet was the same rust as before, engulfing the room slowly but surely.

Kimberly was at a loss for words, as she loudly screamed - drowned out by the music which she had forgotten about. She quickly turned around, and ran for the nearest wall looking for an exit. But all she found was another wall. She faced the monster, which was still looking towards her. Kimberly inched away, and the copy was still in hot pursuit of her.

She wasn't sure if it was another hallucination or not, but she didn't care. She just wanted to go home....

---

^@Scarescrow
Thompson Lumber Mill Inc.

---

Lee was definitely weird. Probably because he was from China, and Samson was home-grown here in Farmer Hill.

He took Lee's hand, and pulled him in close. Patting him on the back with his other hand. A gesture of greeting that Samson picked up from his cousins in the big city. Samson smiled at his friend. "Yeah, good, you had me worried there, man," He said in a deep voice, laughing a bit. "I thought you popped a pill already!" He joked for a moment.

Though, his question was weird. They're in the middle of a lumbermill in the middle of nowhere! There was no neighbourhood. He awkwardly laughed to ease the tension a bit.

"Well, I don't know too much about this part of Farmer Hill," Samson replied. "Given that the cops will lose their shit if they find someone near that fence."

He laughed a bit. "Dunno, they really don't want people going past the fence. Everyone has the idea that it's haunted or some shit. But, who really believes that?"

He shrugged as he continued talking. He clapped both of his hands together as he suggested; "But, let's forget about that - and let's grab some beer or something, you need to loosen up a bit."

---

So Kim wasn't dead. Or badly hurt, for that matter. That was good, Nate figured - wouldn't exactly have looked good if he'd been seen at a big (probably illegal) party where someone had died. And her dying would have been shitty, on top of that.

But he couldn't really see her, not in this light and it wasn't exactly like he could've grabbed his own phone and shone a light down without risking dropping it or losing his footing. "Sure, I can help but uh-"

Before Nate could get another word in, he saw a bright light emit from what could've only been her phone and caught a better glimpse of her silhouette. He was about to lean further in to get a closer look, only to wince as he heard a gasp escape the girl's throat and the light from her phone suddenly turned upwards, painfully dazzling him in the process.

Nate squinted and heard a scream, then saw Kim disappearing beyond where he could see her through the hatch - and for a moment he saw a dark red hue trailing along where she'd been. Rust? Blood?. "What the fuck?" he mumbled, then decided to act fast - it wasn't that far of a drop and if she'd been able to get up and run he would've been fine.

"Hey, your friend's screaming again!" Nate called back in the direction of the others, "I'm gonna check on her and make sure she doesn't take anymore shrooms!"

Then swung one leg over the ledge of the hatch, then the other, his centre of balance shifted backwards with a palm on each side of the ledge, then shifted himself forward to drop down as flat as he could.

A sudden, rushing sensation tugged at his stomach, as though it was being pulled upwards into his lungs and the floorboards that had been so close seemed to stretch on for metres. Or miles? It threw his concentration for just a second and so when he felt the wood making contact with the soles of his shoes it was all he could do not to fall forward on his face. Instead, he felt a sharp pang ripple upwards from the balls of his feet to his knees, the disorienting glare of the light causing him to fall backwards as his body squatted to let his knees absorb the impact.

So instead, he'd fell flat on his ass.

Nate groaned, momentarily cursing his altruism, then pressed a palm against the floorboards to stand, casting his gaze around the dark interior to search for where Kim was, casting out a sarcastic remark, "Fuck, what shrooms did you take?"

Strangely enough, there was no sign of the trail of red she'd left behind.

---

@Surtr
Thompson Lumber Mill Inc.

---

Now, patting is a thing that Lee had never experienced before. As a kid, the scene of two men suddenly hugging each other, with their hand constantly patting on the other's back questioned him. When he asked the question to his mom, she told him to get away from them. She told that those that hug other people can only mean one thing, they are homos. She said that unless it is the opposite sex that hugging each other, then he should not hug another man. So Lee grew up, with the same thought that his mom had injected into his mind, painting it with the dark tone about homosexuality. Although he had become a little more open-minded through reading books about the Western Culture, the thought of being hugged by the same sex still bother him. It is bewildered for Lee, that the first person that hugged him in this weird nation was a male. And the thought of keeping his distance at least a few inches from Samson as Lee took his time to evaluate the person that he called friend’s sexuality.
Lee pulled his hand back, smirk. The feeling of awkward overtaken Lee, making him becoming more uncomfortable with this current situation.

“Yeah" Lee stops, scratching his head before bursting out a laugh. “Yeah, maybe I could use a rest."

So he made it to the table, avoiding all the eyes of the mob as he passes through them.And he saw it, a place where the people pick their drinks. The table is in the middle of the room, stacked with cases of bottles of liquid and a huge spill on the floor. But most of the drink Lee could saw is alcohol, with a huge variety. From the relatively expensive alcohol that only for the rich kid to taste to the low-weight that people like Lee could get knock out were all presented on the table. To Lee, it seems everyone just decided to bring their alcohol to the party. And they just stack the case upon each other, until it reaches a surprising height. Although there are many alcohols, there seems to be no water presented. But Lee did not come here to drink water, he comes here to pick up some beer.

Looking through various brand as their name floating over his head, Lee constantly shaking his head as he barely recognized these brand. He wants having something that will ease him a little bit, something that could deliver him momentarily from this place. And he saw it, a 640 ml Tiger packed in an amber color glass bottle. This is the kind of beer that Lee had known and tasted before. And so he reaches it using his left hand. As Lee's index finger encircled the bottle, he felt a sudden pain before it subsided from the cold atmosphere of the bottle that he is holding. Lee opens the bottle cap and slowly drinking the bitter liquid inside the bottle. He felt his head become slower, his voices stretched out on the syllables, and his vision became a blur. After bumping into a few dozens of people or more, Lee encountered Samson. Lee smiles, shaking his head while tilting over to one side before regaining his normal position.

“So, whaatt doo yoou haave? Finding anything interesting?

---

^{@Zombiedude101}
Thompson Lumber Mill Inc - Interior

---

There wasn't anymore wall left before Kimberly was cornered by the copy, she was frozen in fear as she slumped downwards. The walking corpse hunched over her, staring her dead in the eyes.

And with a bony finger, the corpse ran a finger across her cheek and then cut her with it's sharpened fingers. A drizzle of blood went down her cheek as Kimberly was too scared to feel the sting. For a moment, Kimberly considered fighting, but she was too fucking confused as to what was going on. She never took any of the drugs, or even drunk anything (yet). How was any of this happening?

The thing retracted it's finger, before looming over her. She knew it was going for the kill soon... she could only hope to...

"Fuck, what shrooms did you take?"

Hearing the words of another person seemed to dispel the illusion. Everything went back to normal, and the hallucination (?) was gone. She looked around as she got up. She saw the light that was emitted by her phone on the ground, and quickly began to move over to it. She grabbed it, and then scanned around for the voice. She quickly saw Nathan and jolted (she was still a little spooked, after all).

"I..." Kimberly was about to say something, but then she stopped. "... saw a rat." She played it off.

"Ummmmm..." Kimberly trailed off, unsure of what to really say. "... I'm Kimberly." She said the first thing that came to mind.

---

^{@OppositionJ@Darquesse@Savo}
Thompson Lumber Mill Inc.

---

When Nathan mentioned Kimberly screaming again (which Jordan clearly heard), she couldn't help but ask, "What?!"

Shit, this party was going wrong faster than she thought. If only she didn't have such a bad leg, she'd go in there and get Kimberly out herself. Not relying on this strange boy. She was about to swing back around and talk to Hagan about what the hell was going on, but she heard a loud twig snap around the corner. Her head immediately whipped around, and she bit her lip...

... Speak of the devil.

She saw the huge frame of Hagan around the corner with the widest grin on his face as he looked at the group. He laughed, muttering something to himself as he walked up with his hands in his pockets. "Oh woulda' look at this," He said with a incredulous look on his face. "The losers club tryna sneak into the real party."

He stopped to laugh as he wiped his face off a bit, before looking at them, "But you guys have the subtlety of a bull in a chinashop."

"Hagan-" Jordan tried to plead, but Hagan focused on the girl in the window.

"And you," Hagan said, "I don't recall ever letting you in, toostieroll." He said in a mocking tone as he turned his attention to the ladder.

"Ya'll won't be needing this," He said as he pushed over the ladder, and it fell over, breaking apart. He turned to the rest of the group and said, "I'd suggest if you don't want your asses kicked to Whitefish and back..."

"... I'd get out of here."

---

"A rat?" Nate asked, almost stifling a humourous snort. He was about to voice his skepticism to that until he caught a glimpse of the fresh blood which had trickled down her cheek. Maybe she had been attacked by a rat? Or maybe she'd caught her self on something on the way down and thought she'd seen a rat? At the least, the way she'd cowered and backed up against the wall like that made it seem like something serious.

"Yeah, Kimberly," he finally echoed, "That's a funny name for some shrooms." He gave a shrug at the snide remark, then continued on, "Some guys at the ladder seemed to know who you were - one's got a cane like Doctor House and the other sounded like she had a fake leg or some shit, was screwin' with the ladder." Nate brought a palm up to his chin to give it a scratch, then glanced back up towards the hatch through which the both of them had gotten in here. "I'm Nate, I guess. And no, that's not the name of the shrooms I took. That part comes later," he said, deadpan, before cracking his fingers together and reaching into a pocket and pulling out a loose tissue, offering it out for her to clean herself up so she'd look a little less like Freddy Krueger had raked her face.

"So, lemme guess - you and your friends were trying to find a way to get past Steroids Hagen at the front, you saw a rat and fell in, then saw a rat again and started going apeshit again, got yourself cut in the process?" Nate gave a shrug to that, "Makes no difference now. We're kinda stuck in here unless you want to find a way out... and bingo."

A finger found itself pointed in the direction of a doorframe from which the muffled pulses of music could be heard seeping through.

---

---

---

Oof... Callie cringed a bit as she heard a second crashing. Had the other man fallen too? It seemed more and more plausible that she should go check on them. In fact, she probably would have had the second party not grown in numbers again... A rather large man swaggered over to the group, sporting a shit-eating grin that Callie just knew fit the guy perfectly. Jordan seemed to focus on him. The two were about to exchange words when Mister Stereotypical Blockhead gave a laugh and started up on his own.

Callie quirked a brow as she watched him. She scooted herself closer inside the window as he moved about, subtly preparing for what might come. Calling the group losers... He sure had a sense of originality. It was then that his focused seemed to fall upon Callie herself as he called her out. She... wasn't great at confrontations and normally Callie was never one to cause conflict, but seriously? There was no way she'd just let the guy have his way. Okay, maybe she would have if she hadn't heard the scream echo from within the building. No doubt, it was Jordan's friend. Whatever was happening to her wasn't great, and Callie's first thoughts were that she had hurt herself badly in the fall. Then again, maybe she wouldn't have cared if she didn't want to spite this guy.

"Hmm... I imagine your permission might have mattered if you had the brain capacity to lock a window, but yes, yes. You're right. I'll get out of your way." Callie wasted no time pushing herself back through the window, clambering to her feet and pulling down the window.

Later, buddy.

She had no idea if she would be followed, but right now, a badass exit was all that mattered. After a moment, Callie shifted to the side and attempted to slam the debris pile she cleared back in front of her entrance, whether the window was being reopened or not. She moved with haste, careful to not let herself be bested this early in her newfound escapades.

After that was all done, Callie wasn't finished. She headed in a quick pace towards the door, unlocking it to remove herself from the safe haven she created for herself. Without regard for anything else, Callie headed down the hallway towards where she believed the fallen pair might be based on what she'd heard. It was time for adventure, whether or not some blockhead was coming to try and beat her up.

---

Thompson Lumber Mill Inc - "VIP Louge."

---

After losing the Lame-O squad, Claire made sure to beeline straight for the beers. She found herself a cooler, and quickly cracked open a bud light, and downed it. She couldn't feel the buzz just yet (it was some shitty ass beer, after all), but she knew in a little bit she was going to make more decisions she was going to regret!

She grabbed another one, and lumbered through the crowds, looking for someone by themselves or something. Someone she can talk to that isn't a meathead like Hagan, Clayton, or any of the sort. Maybe she should go back out and find that cutie Clayton and sneak him in. He probably needed to be in here more than Claire did.

Claire stopped when she felt a tapping on her shoulder, and whipped around to see a strange face. A stranger. Some dude she never met before, a skinny white boy that was about an inch or two shorter than her - but they were otherwise staring each other in the eye. He had a beer in one hand, and wore a shitty jean jacket with some striped shirt underneath. He had a head of wavy blonde hair in a pompadour, and freckles. She'd call him cute... if he'd start acting that way.

"Heeeeeeeey, Claire, whaddup!?" The guy said, and Claire cringed.

"Hey," Claire replied, "Do I know you?"

"Oh, no, you probably don't... but everyone in Farmer Hill knows you!" Of freakin' course. Claire thought to herself between the douchebag's speech. "I was hoping I could get to know you..." He got close and gently caressed her arm.

That was the point when Claire decided to shut down that bullshit before it got out of hand. This kid was probably one of the many that thought that Claire was just a free lay. Basically just a pussy on legs. She wasn't going to take that. She slapped away the hand, and snapped.

"Sorry hun," Claire said sarcastically. "But, you're coming off a bit too strong for me." She turned away to walk off, but she felt his strong hand grasping her wrist.

"Hey now," He said. "I just ain't some nobody... I'm the son of the Sheriff."

"And you could be the president's son, and I wouldn't give a shit!" Claire answered with a snarl, "Now get your hand off me, ya' perv!" She snatched her arm away, and he moved in like he was going to do something, and Claire quickly moved in, and punched him square in the mouth. He was stumbling back, as the mood of the party died. Everyone stopped and stared... and Claire did nothing other than shake her head, and disappear into the crowd. Without a thought.

So much for the good vibes from the party. She shook her head as she moved her way outside. She needed to take a drag after that bullshit. She reached into her pocket, and pulled out a cigarette, and found a side wall.

---

Blood was dripping...

That bitch hit him in the mouth! All he wanted to do was show her a good time, and she gets violent? Fuck her. He was about to lose it. He stumbled into the darkness of the lumber mill. Stunned, but also feeling oddly compelled to a point. The thoughts of rage for Claire was the only thing on his mind right now, and he would love to do nothing more than to show her who was boss.

Suddenly, a red light illuminated the room in an orange, bloody, glow. Everything was being covered in a bloody rust that engulfed all the objects in the room. Until there was nothing left. He felt a pain in his head like no other, like something was trying to force it's way in. Harming him in the process of the coercion. He turned his head as he looked around. The only thing not touched by the rust was... a lumber axe. An old one with a wooden handle that was still in usable condition, and a metal axe head. The second he gazed on it, he felt the pain disappear. As if it was an oasis in this sea of strange.

He was compelled to touch it, to see what would happen. Immediately upon touching it, he felt a bliss overtake him. He picked the axe up and held it with two hands. Before he realized something.

He can show that bitch who's boss, he can show them all who's boss.

---

^{@Zombiedude101}
Thompson Lumber Mill Inc - Interior

---

The second that Nathan (as he introduced himself) mentioned that she cut herself, she ignored everything else that was said by the boy. She tried to think of where she was cut by the fall... before she remembered that feeling of a liquid on her cheek. She quickly reached over, and wiped her cheek... and saw that her fingertips were stained with blood.

She loudly gasped, staring at the blood in abstract shock. Asking herself questions like how, why, and... was it really a hallucination? There was no logical explanation. Because there was no way she could have cut herself there outside of a freak coincidence of some sort. Kimberly knew that Nathan probably was catching on that there was something wrong. Given that she was standing there slack jawed, staring at the blood on her fingers.

Kimberly swiped the tissue, and wiped her finger and cheek off. Casually laughing at his joke - obviously forced because of how she was trying her damn near best to cover her ass.

"Yeah..." Kimberly trailed off. "Let's just find a way out... the mill is only so big."

---

^@Scarescrow
Thompson Lumber Mill Inc.

---

While Lee was doing his thing, Samson was grabbing a beer of his own. A Corona Modelo. He quickly popped the top off, and took a sip of it. Before he turned his head towards Lee... who had already finished a bottle of some kind of drink that somebody brought. Tiger? Samson never heard of that brand. But, he could see the effects that it had on Lee.

"Uh, Lee..." Samson said, with a raised eyebrow. "Is this like the first time you ever had alcohol?"

The dude was just about to fall over. He wanted him to loosen up, but not this much. Oh boy, and now Samson could feel the guilt of causing this. No matter. He's got to help him.

"Nevermind," Samson said. "Let's find somewhere to sit down."

---

_@Surtr
Thompson Lumber Mill Inc

---

---

Rien had been at the Lumber Mill for quite a bit now and so far it was a pretty good time. They’d had enough to drink that they found it easy enough to mingle with people they’d never talked to. Not quite enough to make any terrible decisions (not that Rien was likely to regret anything they did). They’d even managed to sneak into the VIP lounge – which honestly wasn’t as hard as it should have been.

They’d pulled at least three people since getting here which was a pretty decent number in their books. They were on their way to a fourth, because why not see how many people they can get with right? They’d never seen the shorter (wow, someone shorter than them!) brown haired girl before but she was pretty good looking.

Rien was so close to kissing her, too, when shit went down in the VIP lounge. They only heard snippets of the conversation – they had no idea who the guy was, but they were pretty sure the girl was called Claire. Her reputation kind of preceded her. Though, honestly, from what Rien heard they were all with her when she punched him right in the face. He looked like he deserved it.

Shame it killed the party mood, though. And the girl Rien had been chatting up was staring at the scene. Looked like they weren’t going to get anywhere there. Ah well, no point worrying over something like that.

It was pretty much dead inside the lounge now. Rien figured that maybe that signalled it was time to head back outside. Couldn’t be as bad out there, right? Shrugging slightly they made their way through the crowds and outside. They looked around to see if there was anything to join and easily spotted Claire.

Might as well go talk to her, right?

“Hey,” Rien greeted with a nod as they came to stand at the side wall beside Claire, leaning back on it and pulling out a cigarette of their own. They rummaged around their other pocket before sighing lightly. “You have a lighter or anything? I think I dropped mine in there.”

“I’m Marijn by the way, since you probably have no idea who I am,” they grinned slightly. “Though everyone calls me Rien since it’s easier to pronounce.” Their smile increased. “I saw what happened in there, damn that was a nice punch. That guy deserved it.”

“I think he tried to hit on me earlier too, but I was too busy with a girl to do anything but ignore him. Glad you told him to fuck off.”

---

@Surtr @Scarescrow

---

Thompson Lumber Mill Inc.

---

Julia was starting to have second thoughts about the grand party: the music was good and the beer cold - enough to make Julia interact with people. So far she was strolling around, she even saw her ex-boyfriend with his new girlfriend. Having to to listen them complain about not being allowed into the VIP area was fun. Damn, and she missed that. Would be a sight to see that fucker being kicked out with his bitch. She was going to need another beer.

She was about to head to the drinks when she saw Lee and Samson there. Finally people she could call friends - even that she knew Samson only by name would be great knowing him more (It was a matter of not screwing it). "Hi Guys, waddup! I mean--hi... you Samson, right? Nice to meet you, I'm Julia." You had one job, Julia. He probably don't know you and you screwed by saying says 'waddup'. Now he is going to think you're weird..

Well, this was just great... seriously good grief.

In the span of a couple of minutes, a lot of shit just transpired... and Derick, well... he was kind of an observer for the most part, recounting everything that lead up to everyone's only way in getting fucked over by this shining pinnacle of education who just called them losers...

Back from the beginning of his arrival, he supposed...

---

The boy looked up at the girl, casually lounging about on the windowsill, his eyes alternating between drooping and blinking every few seconds. He almost yawned something out as the girl welcomed the congregating group of misfits to "the second party." Derick slowly twisted and turned his head around and shrugged. Honestly, if this was the second party, then it kind of made sense why these two (and a lot of others) wanted to get in...

... or, at least he had a good idea since he had gone to parties like this before.

Extending and arm up to stretch, he grunted a bit, pursing his lips as he grunted a bit. Feeling less tense, he gave the girl in the window a slight wave and a very noticeable nod, to the point where it almost seemed like he was bowing from her angle.

Suddenly, he let his hand droop back to the side, no rhyme or rhythm to it. Honestly though, he would be lying to himself a bit further if he didn't admit there was something at the party that they might have... something these two managed to coerce him with.

Booze.

Not weakass martini's... no, real hard shit like Barcadi, Amasterdam, all that jazz.

Forcibly breaking himself from his trance, he blinked a bit, bringing him back to the reality that was him, standing in the midst with a randie on the window and Jordan... and some other people who popped out of the woodwork's. Derick slowly sighed, looking over at the duo.

Honestly, yeah, he could understand why Jordan was acting up... waltzing up like they owned the place without batting an eye for other people... and these thoughts were coming from him out of all people... it was kinda... freaky.

Regardless, Derick just gave the butt-buddies a passive aggressive glare with a squint and rather pronounced frown to top it off. The red head even went as far as to furrow his brows at the duo before flinching at the sudden sound emanating from the roof.

As far as he knew, he took note that Kim was doing... god knows what, trying to break into the party like a thief using the roof to try and break in to some museum that held an extraordinary gem... but that was besides the point.

Derick stared up a bit, steadily breaking away from that irritated visage he had displayed earlier. While he did appear to have little to no concern for his friend, his heart skipped a beat when he heard that tangible amount of noise. "Kim," he quizzically murmured, his voice sounding anxious as he lurched a bit towards the ladder.

Of course, this was followed by Jordan distressingly announcing to him that that something might of happened... with that nickname. Honestly, if anyone else but them called him that, he would seriously consider thwacking them on the head with his walking stick. Only these two were cool with him for calling him Rick...

Regardless...

Derick blankly looked over to Jordan who looked as if she was pleading to a judge over innocence. In response, he closed his eyes and nodded, understanding what she meant and showing that he empathized with her on that aspect. Along with that, he jutted his chin towards the roof, displaying that he did have an idea of this whole insane... scheme they were plotting out.

Then there was the apology.

"... try not to do it when y'all drag me 'round again," he quipped back, forcing a chuckle for what could be counted in seconds on one hand before returning his attention to the roof...

... and he nodded.

From what he knew, Jordan just... kind of hated heights... but him? Well, he had his own issues, but it was a hell of a gamble for him... and he preferred not going to the hospital for breaking his arm after falling off the ladder or roof.

But still...

...hmm...

Just before he could think any further on the subject, one of the other randies offered to ensure that Kim was safe... after making a small quip at Derick, which caused him to just roll his eyes. Just because he had a walking stick didn't mean he had to be compared to a fictional character, but eh, whatev's.

At this randies beck and call, Derick shrugged and decided to assist him, nonchalantly walking over to ladder at a somewhat slow pace. Propping his walking stick at a certain angle that could hold him up just in case, Derick latched onto the ladder, looking up at the man as he continually made his way up onto the rooftops. Once the redhead was certain he was up there, he trudged forward a bit and bent the angle of his stick upwards.

Eventually, he readjusted himself before slowly backing away. Despite this all, Derick was still honestly debating on whether or not to go up there... but while he was debating, he heard the randie (he really needed to get the dude's name or something) shouted out something about shroom's and other crap...

That only elicited an eyebrow raise from Derick.

That was... peculiar.

"Uh, I'm pretty friggin' sure she was clean before comin' here," he blandly spoke up, ruffling the back of his red hair. Honestly, at this point he was about to say fuck it and climb up the ladder to try and figure out why she was screaming. He tilted his head, musing on if she got an injury or something and just frowned.

Pressing one hand to his chin, he began to rub it while grinding his teeth just a bit before taking a few steps towards the ladder.

Of course, any attempt at seeing what the hell was going on was just about too late.

---

... and that's where he came in now.

The too late portion had kicked in when the epitome of this universities education came strolling on in, insulting them on. Derick just shook his head, sighing as he rubbed his temple with the palm of his hand. "That's ironic," he calmly spoke to himself, his voice reduced to a low murmur that it would be impossible for anyone to probably notice.

Honestly, he really wanted to say he didn't give a shit about this all, but to be frank, he just didn't like this punks attitude. He might of not been one of the "cool kids" any more, but he could still smell the fact that this guy was a wannabe, a tool. Honestly, the whole fact that you tell the whole college you're having a part and alienate some people was just plain retarded.

... but with this guy in the way... hm.

"... shit," he muttered watching as the guy made quick work of the ladder. They were in a real rut right now, the boy shoved one hand as he pivoted around and walked back to Jordan.

His hands shifted around in his pockets, making a small jingling noise within as he retrieved his keys and began swinging them around. Suddenly, they made a small *tink* as they slammed against the cushion of his hand. He then held out both his walking stick and car keys to Jordan, leaning in to whisper to her.

"Get inside, grab Kim and the hardest bottle f'alcohol; I'll be out runnin' an 'errand' for a few minutes," he whispered to Jordan, waiting for he to grasp at the walking stick and take away the keys.

Once Jordan procured those two items, he stumbled around a bit, trying to maintain a sense of balance. In truth, it took him a few seconds, but it was somewhat difficult to pull off. To any other person, it would look like Derick was a drunk, stumbling around in the dark.

"Welp, time to hope my legs don't buckle under me now..."

Turning around, he faced the taunting muscle head, shoving both of his hands into his coat pocket, doing his best to look intimidating... the way he acted was a whole other story.

"Oh? I din't see any fuckin' list in your greasy hands over who has access to the party, also, what's the point of having most of the students know there's a party when more than half of them ain't even invited," Derick shouted out, sounding almost completely bored about this whole process.

"If anything, the only thing I see is some dumbass actin' as a scapegoat fer the 'cool kids,' and'n outlet for those y've denied entry," he wobbled a bit forward, putting up a false bravado as he forced out a smirk, shaking his head and acting like a smug jackass with false pity to coat it all. Snapping his fingers, he pointed a finger gun directly at the guy who could probably put him in intensive care with just a few looks.

"Plus, f'you were one of em' faggot, someone else would be in your position. Face it, you're no different than the 'losers' standing out here."

Derick let out a small huff, shifting his legs around, squinting as he waited for any signs of malicious movements towards him. He could probably outrun this guy... maybe.

Well, this was just great... seriously good grief.

---

^@FernStone
Thompson Lumber Mill Inc - "VIP Louge."

---

When Claire first heard someone walking up, she shot them a sharp glare as a way of saying, 'I'm not in the mood, fuck off.' Thinking it was maybe that creep, or one of his friends, or worse, both. Claire didn't want anyone else bugging her.

But, getting a look of the girl (Maybe? Claire didn't know) made her realize that possibly this could be pleasant. She lowered her guard a bit, but still kept her attention on the girl. She had blue hair, and blue eyes that matched. Had a young looking face, and was short, to the point where Claire wondered if she was even supposed to be here. There was some really heavy shit going on here, and she didn't think a fifteen year old could handle it.

Though, she could handle a cigarette, she asked for a lighter. Claire leaned over wordlessly as she blew out a puff of smoke, and lit the girl's cigarette. "There you go, sweetheart." Claire said as she blew out a puff of smoke, and returned back to her neutral position.

The girl decided to strike up a conversation with her, telling her what a great job she did by knocking that dude's teeth out. Though, she could tell that the girl didn't care about any of that, no. She just wanted to talk to Claire. How sweet. She grinned slightly, probably not enough to be noticed.

"Well, Rien, it's great to meet ya'," Claire said, refraining from giving her name for now, so she can continue with her speech. "And let me tell ya something, you need to stand up to freaks like that..." She took in the moment to take a long puff of her cigarette, before blowing it out, bitterly saying.

"... Show a bit of weakness, and they'll be all over you." She showed a bit too much emotion (well, the wrong type of emotion) so she decided to change the subject. Well, like she said, the . "But, enough of that sweetheart...." She laughed as if she wasn't bothered by any of that.

She posed in a way, she put a hand on her hip, and jutted her hip out a bit towards Rien. Holding a cigarette up to her her face. Putting on a bit of a dollface.

"... Please don't tell me you followed me out here just to talk about that." Claire said in a sultry tone.

---

^{@Savo@OppositionJ}
Thompson Lumber Mill Inc.

---

Derrick seemed a little peeved, but they had bigger things to worry about at the moment. And at the moment, they had a furious Hagan to deal with. He seemed to be more focused on the others, probably because the girl with a fucked up leg, and another guy with a cane probably weren't high on his priority list. Jordan knew that would change at the drop of a hat if they are careless.

"Hey!" Hagan shouted at the girl, as she slammed the window shut, and disappeared into the lumber mill. Oooooh, boy. She was going to get it if he found her in there. He wouldn't hit her, but there was a big puddle of mud little miss hipster was begging to be thrown into. He ignored her for now. There was someone else he wanted to do. He turned to Chris Pope, and started shouting at him, and managed to scare off the other brat that was with him. Jordan didn't care.

"... Wait, is that window locked?" Jordan asked herself under her breath, so that Fagen doesn't hear what she said. Derrick probably heard, but she just got an idea! Derrick also had an idea of his own... one that Jordan didn't quite approve of.

"Wait, what?" Jordan said in response to Derrick. One; she wasn't touching alcohol (even if it was for Derrick), and two; Hagan would kill him. "Derrick, don't, Hagan will..." She trailed off as he probably understood. Jordan sighed, as she grabbed the keys, and his walking stick.

"I'm not getting you alcohol," Jordan snapped before she opened the flimsy window on the other side, and did her best to climb though. She peered at Derrick standing off against Hagan.

When Derrick spoke to Hagan, oh boy, he ignored Chris, who had scurried off somewhere else. He looked over his shoulder at Derrick with a shit eating grin. "Oh... you must be joking," Hagan said, laughing. "Because I think you're being fuckin' hilarious."

Hagan listened to the chump prattle off word after word, not even listening to a thing he says. Only laughing, because this chump can do a lot of talking, but can't do a lot of much else. Hell, he shoulda kept the cane. Maybe he would have survived more than one-point-two seconds in a fight with it.

Though, one word made Hagan go blind with rage. His eyes shot open, his breath became heavy, and he grit his teeth, as he looked at Derrick.

"...f'you were one of em' faggot..."

"The fuck did you just say to me, you little bitch!?" Hagan loudly shouted as he dropped all pretense of being cordial with him. Instead, lunging toward him. Grabbing him by the collar of his shirt roughly as possible. Jolting him forward, before staring him dead in the eye, teeth bared.

"I'm NO faggot, and you better put that in your head, or I'm going to damn near knock it off, pencil dick!"

He ignored everything else that Derrick said, and focused on that word.

"Got it? Got it!? Got it!?" He said as he violently shook Derrick.

---

Mumbling in response to Kimberly's stated agreement, Nate shifted his weight towards the door and felt around for a handle, resorting to using the flashlight app on his own phone to get a better look - there was a hole in the heavyset wooden door for a key, but wrenching back on the handle proved it wasn't locked and the door slowly scraped back against the floorboards, the muffled rhythms of the music on the other side becoming less so. As a guess? They'd probably used this place as a foreman's office or a storeroom or something. It wasn't like they'd left any real furniture lying around to figure it out, not that it mattered, just a curious thought.

Instead, he glanced back towards Kim for a moment, took another look at the fresh cut that marked her cheek, then tugged further back on the door using his weigh as leverage.

"Better get moving before some shitlord jerking off in the corner realises we aren't hallucinations from the shrooms."

The glow of his phone's light illuminated what would have been an otherwise pitch-black corridor, with various assorted pieces of junk from emptied crates to loose debris scattered around, posing a trip hazard. Age hadn't been kind to this place and neither had the elements, but inside here? It seemed... there wasn't really a word to put it down to, otherworldly? Nate blinked, and for a moment swore he'd seen the walls covered in a thick, hellish rust that hadn't been there moments before. Or was there? No, it wasn't. Just his eyes fucking with him.

It proved a point - place like this? On his own, in the dark, no ambient noise in the background - he'd have been legitimately shitted out, a decade's worth of video games and movies having painted his memory with images from the likes of Resident Evil or Silent Hill.

It might have explained why some of the other party-goers hadn't seemed to have found this particular section yet, if not the assorted crap in their way.

He stepped over the loose portions of debris and junk that were set in their path, making sure to keep the floor illuminated for Kimberly's sake so that she wouldn't trip either.

Each nook, cranny and crevice they passed or approached, he passed his light over it to make sure they weren't stumbling across a couple screwing in the darkness or dosing (though he had no plan for the chance they did) but the only sign of people they encountered were the growing pulses of music and the jubilant voices accompanying them.

It was only when they hit yet another doorway that he figured they were on the home stretch - a thin shaft of multicoloured light seeped out from a thin gap beneath the door, the once-distant noises now just a few metres ahead. Nate gave Kimberly another stare, deadpan. "If anyone asks, we're roofers."

With that, he took a hold of the handle, twisted and pulled, the door drawing open with a squeak that was drowned out by the collective squeals of the crowd on the other side.

No, he then thought . Not squealing. Screeching. A shrill noise which seemed to piece through his skull, inducing an agonising headache that almost had him scrabbling for something to support himself.

When he looked up again, that same rust he'd seen a moment ago on the walls now seemed to touch everything, the crowd included, clothes and skin rapidly decaying and sloughing off to reveal a mass of rotting, skeletal figures trampling each other underfoot.

And his own hands... skeletal, ethereal, coated in more rust.

"What the fuck?!" Nate began to backpedal, startled, only to back into Kimberly - and then he saw, not a corpse but a person, flesh and blood, mundane.

It was an act which brought him back to reality, the party in front of them carrying on without a single eyelid batted.

---

_@Surtr

---

The party had, for lack of a better word, thrown the nature side of the woods pretty off balance. The typical noises of animals around this time of night had gone quiet on account of the sheer ear bending noise the lumber mill was making. On the outskirts however there was an uncertain peace, the drums didn’t pound quite as hard here and the screeches of a vocalist didn’t seem to travel quite this far, the odd bird chirping or frog croaking could be faintly heard every now and again, as the woods seemingly began to once more come to life.

“I CLOSED MY EEEEEEYES AND I SLIPPED AWAAAAAAAAAAAY!!”

In an instant the frogs dipped back underwater and the birds erupted from the trees as Peter Grey air guitared his way down the dirt path, kicking up twigs and bits of earth as he glided by with all the grace of a bull in a meth lab or however that saying went. Peter began jumping up and down like a schizoid as he imagined the big finish of his, assuredly, amazing live performance.

“IT’S MORE THAN A FEEEELIN! I BEGIN DREAMIN’

MORE THAN A FEEEEEELIN’!”

In an instant, a pirouette too far perhaps, Pete looked around and learned quite quickly he was lost. He was already late so getting there fast wasn’t high on his priority list but he’d been too, far too, engrossed in his music and seemed to have gone off the dirt path. Considering he didn’t spend much of his time out in the woods of Farmer’s Hill this presented a pretty big issue, slightly Peter began to panic. He put a hand in his pocket to reach for his phone as he pulled off his headphones.

In an instant Peter’s expression turned to annoyance as he gave out an irritated grunt and took his hand out of his pocket.

He could hear, quite well, just how loud the music had truly gotten, if anything it felt like he was standing right outside the lumber mill. Letting his headphones rest around his neck and placing his hands in his pockets Pete followed the sounds and made his way to the mill.

============================

Barely, and I really do mean barely, Peter managed to squeeze through a gap in the chain link fence, finally getting a full view of the mill. The music was, obviously, at it’s loudest here but Pete didn’t mind, it’s something you got used to fairly quick with parties provided you didn’t stand next to speakers.He took stock of the place and began looking for the ever elusive “second party” that pretty much always happened at these affairs, pretty often Pete would get let in but not everyone was cool with a “J” so there’d been times he was forced to finish outside in the dead of winter, not fun.

Passing through some stragglers outside and giving the odd vague smile or wave of recognition Peter approached what he was sure was the entrance to the veritable nirvana, oddly enough though there wasn’t any gorilla or congregation of gorillas standing all tough like in front of it. Not that Peter was disappointed at the lack of large angry men but there was usually a certain rhythm to these little soirees that made the difference all the more noticeable.

As if to answer his confusion Pete was treated to the growing volume of someone yelling on the other side of the mill, while he couldn’t make out most of the tirade Peter did manage to hear the word faggot, meaning either a hate crime was transpiring or a British person was greatly unhappy with their cigarette. Against his better judgement Peter, reluctantly, walked away from the VIP entrance and followed the pleasing rant.

As he rounded the corner Peter saw Hagan lifting some guy by the scruff of his neck and screaming in his face, Peter made out two girls behind them witnessing the whole affair but he didn’t pay them as much mind, Hagan was quite clearly stealing the show at present.

Breaking into a half jog Peter got closer and closer to the group. He’d only spoken to Hagan a handful of times, he was pretty sure they’d shared a joint once but they were hardly bro’s, even still he tried his best to diffuse the situation before it got even more out of hand. As he neared the group Peter noticed a cane strewn across the ground next to the guy Hagan was manhandling, he cringed as he put two and two together.

“Hagan, man chill out. Whatever’s goin’ on we can just all go back to the party and get loaded instead of standin’ out here freezin’ our asses off.” Not exactly the most charismatic of diffusals but Pete at least hoped the allure of alcohol might worm a bit of rationale into the brain of Hagan and the others that the only thing that whatever was happening here wasn't as important as (mostly) underage drinking and substance abuse.

---

@Surtr[@Defacto]
Thompson Lumber Mill Inc.

---

There were so many of them. Lee looked the toward the stage, where a group of people is performing. How many of them up there? A dozen or two he thinks. It is so bubbly. Everyone is so bubbly. The sound blasting from all direction, making Lee dazzled by the constant bombardment of strong sound and light. The people speak too slowly or in a ridiculously low tone, stressing their sentence any ways they can. Looking at the empty Tiger bottle in his hand, Lee wondered if it is because of the beer or everyone around is also drunk. His finger feels a little bit numb. They are swollen red at the end of the heads as Lee increased his grip on the slippery surface of the bottle. The pain from his fingers had subsided as the wound stop bleeding. If there was not a dry blood on one side of his index fingers, Lee would probably miss it.

It took a few minutes later for Lee to realize what Samson just asked him. Lee smile, saying to the man in front of him.
“Nhoope...,” Lee scratched the back of his head. It seems that there is something on his face, as Samson seems to be worried about him. Then, Samson dragged him along to the crowd. And once again, Lee saw those eyesight. Although those just quickly skimmed through him, Lee still feels the difference in it. It was the disgust and hatred gaze. And some were very hostile, Lee thinks. Maybe because it was due to his origin that earns him this prejudices eyesight from these red-necks in this small town. Lee cracks his fists, furious while also sad about the new nation. It seems that not all in this nation are nice and open-minded men and women. And a relatively huge percentage of the population is douche and rednecks. Looking at the man in front of him, Lee shook his head up and down, glad that he was lucky enough to find a good friend. He is a complete stranger in an alien nation. And there is a man willingly to become friend with him. Now, this strange person is helping him to find a place to rest.

Suddenly, a female appeared before his eyes. She had a small and quite slender built with a short haircut that curves at her neck. But apart from that, Lee could not tell more as his mind is just too bubbly right now, filled with people around him giggling and dancing. Her ways to introduce herself seem to be quite childish and awkward like a four years old kid trying to give her best to be accepted into a group. But it was successful, for it makes Lee remembered how he used to be when he was here. And Lee felt he is obligated to help her. Offering his right hand, Lee smile.

“Hi Julia,” Lee grinned, still offering his right hand. “We are finding some place to seat. Wannna joinnned?”

---

Thompson Lumber Mill Inc.

---

The party in the VIP lounge was still in full swing, and the kids of Farmer Hill were having the time of their lives. Free from the ties of the world for just one night.

Though, a door opened from the part of the sawmill that the kids abandoned - mostly due to how freaky it was, and how it killed the party vibe. The door slowly creaked open, and a hand squeezed in the space to grab onto the other side. A veiny hand at that, the veins were jet black. The door was forced open, to reveal the sheriff's son... but he had huge bulging veins all over his body, as his muscles were pumped up a lot more. He seemed to be taller, too. His eyes were a glowing red color as he damn near fell over as the door opened.

"Hey, buddy..." A boy said, who noticed him falling over, and his veins. "You okay, dude? Don't tell me you caught an STD fro-"

The sheriff's boy looked up at him, and he caught sight of his red eyes, and before he could stumble backwards out of shock, his neck was firmly clenched. He was held above the corrupted boy's head. And in an instant, his neck was snapped. The party stopped when his lifeless body was thrown into the crowd. Everyone was staring in abstract horror, as the sheriff's son began rushing forward - swinging the lumber axe with such speed and strength that people were bifurcated.

Suddenly, the party became a massacre as people were cut to bits and pieces... the sheriff's boy barely batted an eye as one death became ten in less than a minute.

---

^{@Scarescrow@Defacto}
Thompson Lumber Mill Inc.

---

In the middle of his thing with Lee, a friend of Samson walked up; Julia Otter. One of the outcasts of the town that had taken a liking to Samson. They talked a bit, but the girl was a bit awkward... and that showed in how she just said "Hi" while he was tryna' help Lee. That was weird, but Samson didn't have time to really fret over it.

"Hey, Julia," Samson replied in a singsong, and Lee offered her his hand, greeting her as well in his drunken stupor. Samson awkwardly smiled at Julia, as he said, "Yeah, he had a bit too much to drink..." He awkwardly laughed, as he looked to the door.

"Actually, know what? We should get some fresh air ," Samson said as he turned towards the door, "Fresh air's great, ain't it?"

He then turned to Julia, "We can talk out..."

Samson was cut off when he heard the scream echo throughout the roof, he turned his head around to see blood, and people running from some lunatic with an axe. It was something out of a shitty horror movie, people were dying, and he wasn't stopping. Blood was everywhere as Samson's fight or flight kicked in almost instantly.

"Julia, c'mon!" Samson said as he pulled Lee hard as he could... the maniac with the axe was swinging towards him. Shit was so crazy, that he hardly even knew what was going on. "It's going to be okay!"

Though, he felt something burning...

---

^{@Zombiedude101}
Thompson Lumber Mill Inc - Interior

---

Kimberly nodded her head, and followed along behind Nate. She wasn't sure whether or not she should even trust him, but it was better than wandering around the mill. Alone. With drunk kids running around. Yeah, at least she could try to hide behind him. Kimberly shook her head for a moment as she followed through the dark confines of the lumber mill. Kimberly found all of his quips somewhat annoying, but she kept with him. Following behind him until they made it to the door. Rolling her eyes at the comment about roofing, and opening the door. Now, all Kimberly wanted to do was find Jordan and leave... this party was giving her a headache.

Right when he opened the door, he suddenly stopped and looked around as if he was freaked out. He screamed, and backed into Kimberly, knocking her the hell over given his greater frame. She fell on her ass again, but only this time her glasses fell off. She quickly scrambled to find them - because like hell she's going to lose her glasses again.

"The hell?!" Kimberly said.

That was when the music stopped, and the screaming started, and she froze. Hoping that she wasn't hallucinating again.

---

_@Surtr
Thompson Lumber Mill Inc

---

“Well, of course it wasn’t why I followed you out here,” Rien laughed as they took a drag of her cigarette, before tilting their to look up at the taller girl. “It was getting a bit dead in there, you see.”

They pushed themselves off from where they were leaning against the wall, just to be a little taller (though it hardly change much) and closer to Claire. “Seemed like I’d be more like to find something fun out here.”

“There aren’t many people I know at this party, anyway,” Rien gave a half shrug, light smile still on their lips. “May as well get to know some more, yeah?”

They weren’t quite sure why they were floundering about a bit where flirting normally came pretty naturally to them. Obviously, Claire was attractive (to Rien at least) but they’d been with plenty of other attractive people. Probably the earlier mood or something.

“And I feel…” Rien paused, before laughing. “Sorry, what I was about to say sounds way better in Dutch. Honestly I don’t really know many English pick up lines.”

They looked like they were going to continue to say something else because, honestly, Rien had the ability to just keep talking until things went their way. But they were interrupted by screams coming from inside, too many and too loud to just be over something small.

“What that fuck is going on in there?”

---

^@FernStone
Thompson Lumber Mill Inc - "VIP Louge."

---

Claire grinned as she held a smoking cigarette in hand.

"Oh, I see," Claire said in an almost sultry tone, "But, trust me, sweetheart, I really improve your night in all the right ways." Followed by a brief chuckle.

"But, word of advice, nothing kills the mode more than bei-"

The screaming started, and the music stopped at that exact moment. Claire jolted in surprise, dropping her cigarette at the moment of the sickening cries. They aren't the cries of someone having fun. Unless getting murdered is on that list. Claire thought to herself as she walked over to the corner of the building and peered around it. There were droves of people running out, some covered in blood (their own?).

Claire wanted to stick her head inside, but she could smell the fume of flames in building, and knew that wasn't going to end well for her. She was about to book it back to the road and hitch-hike back, but she was forgetting something. She turned back to the girl she had just met, and said,

"I don't know what's going on in there, and I definitely don't want to find out," Claire looked Rien up and down, "And I think you don't want to, either."

Well... good news was he was able to acquire this muscle heads attention.

Bad news was Derick wasn't what he used when he was younger, so he wasn't able to preemptively run away once he managed to piss off juiced up roid-rager. The first reaction to being shaken around like this dudes future child was to grasp onto the guys arms and futility attempt to shove him off, but j-fuckin' christ, he was gripping him like a cowboy trying to hold on to a bronco for his life.

While he did listen to the insults he spewed out, his bark... honestly did not affect him as Derick grit his teeth, watching the world swirl around in front of Hagan who was spewing spit and fury onto his face. He grimaced just a bit as he was drenched in the guys saliva. Changing tactics, he let one hand go of the the super sensitive manly man who had his pride wounded and began trying to escape the guys grasp.

Luckily for Derick, he was too busy screaming that he had a pencil dick or some bullshit at him as the world swirled around for what felt like an eternity. If the dude kept this up, Derick felt he might actually understand what this guy experienced as a baby.

Aside from the illegible screaming of the beast, he was able to barely make out another voice trying to tame this tumblr triggered temper tantrum of a human being. The only words he was able to make out was chill out, party, loaded, and something about their asses freezing. Derick honestly couldn't turn his head to face the dude, but did his best to respond while this marrow for brains manhandled him.

"Chshieel ah-ah-aot is tha-ah la-as' thi-i-ing to sa-a-a-ay," he managed to croak out between shakes, Derick began being thrust back and forth even more violently once his other grip loosened. His other arm was fully free of his hoodie, but now he had to work the other... which was a pain in the ass due to being shook around like a soda.

After a few seconds of wiggling back and forth, his arm shifted around as it bounced out of its hole... which meant the last thing was in order - his head...

... which was fairly simple.

As soon as the epitome of this universities education shook Derick froward, he was propelled out of his hoodie, causing him to tumble and roll backwards a bit. Underneath the hoodie, he was wearing a simple white t-shirt... which wasn't enough to hide his tattoo nor stave off the chill, but still.

Regardless, Derick was a bit dizzy, but he quickly did his best to recover from this whole shebang, scrambling to get back up as he woozily tried to adjust himself. From the way he was wobbling and walking back and forth, most people might assume that he was completely smashed from the way he stumbled to try and regain some semblance of balance.

Of course, while he was doing this, the music began to... dial down. Derick was pondering on if he just went deaf thanks to this asshat shaking him around, but that was quickly dismissed. Instead, the aura of the party went from one of sheer ecstasy to one of... bloodlust.

That's what he could gather from the loud amounts of cacophony of bloodcurdling screams that were emanating from inside. his eyes widened as he turned his head instantly towards the "VIP Lounge," stumbling towards it as he began to finally stabilize after taking a few steps.

Ok, yeah, there was something wrong here... so fuck these two, they were the least of his worries.

"It was nice meeting you Fagen, or whatever th' hell your name is and your fucking friend, but I've got more important things to deal with than deal with some roid rage," he shouted as he broke into a sprint, quickly fleeing in the other direction.

As he dashed away, he felt like he was going to stumble and faceplant into the dirt as he passed by a curious onlooker who was lurching towards the entrance. From there on out, the scene became a lot clearer as he heard a random passerby shout out to call 911 and that there was some psycho in there lopping people apart.

Yeah, as much as he wanted to get outta dodge... Kim and Jordan were in there, and he was not leaving their asses behind... not that he had much of a choice anyways; Jordan had his keys, but still.

Droves of people were leaving the vicinity, some caked in blood, some not, but this was looking to be a real bad fucking situation at the moment... and the worst part about it all?

He was certain 911 would have a real difficult time getting here with a fuckload of people calling for them! Derick just groggily shook his head as he dashed around the side, bumping into someone and was almost sent sprawling down onto the ground. Struggling to maintain a sense of balance once again, he lunged forward, almost tripping over and diving face first into the ground as he made it towards the entrance.

Derick closed his eyes, his breathing becoming heavy as the screams drowned out any semblance of rational thought. He felt his heart pumping, circulating the blood throughout his body, the wind of people rapidly accelerating past him. He could just leave now, try to hitch a ride with another person... so why did he decide to go against the tide and push past all these droves of people?!

... fuck if he knew as he began whipping his head around, searching for any signs that Jordan or Kim was around.

"Kim, Jordan, the hell are you two," his cries and plights rang out, only to be drowned out by the sound of other voices, pleading for survival. Derick furrowed his brows and groaned, placing a hand onto a part of his face, obscuring it a bit.

Despite how bored and irritated he appeared at this whole sitch, Derick's breathing was still heavy, and his pupils began to slowly dilate.

... yeah, he was definitely going to get hammered when he got back to the dorm.