Sigil
Noctis
Lexisheeps
Rabbitconfusion
JewelSerket
rivaan
Fetzen
Fading Memory@Fetzen@Eyeris@Rockin Strings@Affili
It was the tone of fear in Twain’s voice that struck Charles, like a slap across the face, and pulled him somewhat out of his drunken stupor.
“ayup there mate, steady on, steady on.”
Standing up from his chair Charles grabbed the table to steady himself as he swayed slightly and bent down to pull Twain back onto his feet. A ribbon of red flashed across the room and briefly filled with a deafening tone. Something was wrong.
“What the hell was that?” Charles blinked. “Oh crap it’s the alarm!”
Once Twain was up Charles spun around and only managed to take a couple of steps before the room began to sim around him. Covering his eyes he swore in a few languages.
“Dimitri, listen to me.” He rocked from side to side. “On the wall, by the door, there’s a uh…um...panel! Panel with buttons, push the red one and speak at it. Ask them what’s going on.”
Charles slapped his cheeks a few times to sober up as Dimitri hopefully did as was asked.
“Zesiro Friend?” Shock gripped Shannon tightly. “Hirsch Friend?”
Shannon didn’t understand it. Why was Hirsch hurting Zesiro?
The metallic smell of blood punched her senses and she let the pan clatter to the ground. Zesiro lay sprawled across the ground, partially obscured by an upturned table.
Flashes of red washed over the room and a siren drilled into her skull. Loud. Too Loud. She remembered that sound. She remembered the white walls and their red flashing lights that screamed.
Shannon dropped on all limbs. The room was too small. The walls were closing in. Shannon roared with the sounds of hyenas filling the room.
“Friends no hurt Friends!” She shrieked and skittered across tables to Zesiro.
Zesiro lay in a pool of his own blood below her and the crumbled, grisly, remains of his own torso. Shannon prodded him with a whimper. The walls were still closing in around her. Drowning her in the rancid stench of Zesiros blood which tearing at the back of her throat.
How could the other two stand it?
“Zesiro Friend Hurt. Hirsch Friend hurt Zesiro Friend!?” She turned to stared wide eyed at Hirsch.
But Hirsch didn’t smell like Hirsch anymore, he didn’t even look himself either. His arms were splattered in red and even from where he was, held up by Vaughter and Rockin, she could smell something like rotten eggs. The table crumbled under Shannons grip.
A frenzy was building inside of her as the walls continued to close in. Another roar was bubbling deep inside her throat. The eyes in her skull spun this way and that, but pair of the snake saw only Hirsch.
Charles Balderdash
It was the tone of fear in Twain’s voice that struck Charles, like a slap across the face, and pulled him somewhat out of his drunken stupor.
“ayup there mate, steady on, steady on.”
Standing up from his chair Charles grabbed the table to steady himself as he swayed slightly and bent down to pull Twain back onto his feet. A ribbon of red flashed across the room and briefly filled with a deafening tone. Something was wrong.
“What the hell was that?” Charles blinked. “Oh crap it’s the alarm!”
Once Twain was up Charles spun around and only managed to take a couple of steps before the room began to sim around him. Covering his eyes he swore in a few languages.
“Dimitri, listen to me.” He rocked from side to side. “On the wall, by the door, there’s a uh…um...panel! Panel with buttons, push the red one and speak at it. Ask them what’s going on.”
Charles slapped his cheeks a few times to sober up as Dimitri hopefully did as was asked.
Shannon
“Zesiro Friend?” Shock gripped Shannon tightly. “Hirsch Friend?”
Shannon didn’t understand it. Why was Hirsch hurting Zesiro?
The metallic smell of blood punched her senses and she let the pan clatter to the ground. Zesiro lay sprawled across the ground, partially obscured by an upturned table.
Flashes of red washed over the room and a siren drilled into her skull. Loud. Too Loud. She remembered that sound. She remembered the white walls and their red flashing lights that screamed.
Shannon dropped on all limbs. The room was too small. The walls were closing in. Shannon roared with the sounds of hyenas filling the room.
“Friends no hurt Friends!” She shrieked and skittered across tables to Zesiro.
Zesiro lay in a pool of his own blood below her and the crumbled, grisly, remains of his own torso. Shannon prodded him with a whimper. The walls were still closing in around her. Drowning her in the rancid stench of Zesiros blood which tearing at the back of her throat.
How could the other two stand it?
“Zesiro Friend Hurt. Hirsch Friend hurt Zesiro Friend!?” She turned to stared wide eyed at Hirsch.
But Hirsch didn’t smell like Hirsch anymore, he didn’t even look himself either. His arms were splattered in red and even from where he was, held up by Vaughter and Rockin, she could smell something like rotten eggs. The table crumbled under Shannons grip.
A frenzy was building inside of her as the walls continued to close in. Another roar was bubbling deep inside her throat. The eyes in her skull spun this way and that, but pair of the snake saw only Hirsch.