Turn 2
You were at home, pacing back and forth. Your car was towed just the other day, and utilities will be going off soon. Moving to go to college here was not the best idea. Classes and books were so much more expensive and jobs were harder to come by. You shudder at the thought of going to daddy again to help bail you out, but you don’t seem to have much of a choice. You pick up the phone and started to dial in his number, and stopped. Racked with frustration you do that again and again, three or four times before finally hitting the send button. Dial tone. You tried again. Same result. You blood pressure jumps through the roof. “Aaah! Damn it. Why now of all times?” You make yourself a glass of ice cold water and turned on the TV to soothe you nerves. It was an irresponsible thing to do, considering the situation, but, you couldn’t think of much else. The channel was already on the 33rd news, and footage of a riot in Lauderhill. People were going ape crazy. You turned off the right after hearing that they were marching down I95 in a psychotic rage. Now afraid you go to your dresser, pull out the 45 you bought just in case someone broke into your house, and then sat back down. Cradling the pistol in your arms made you feel much better.
You make sure that your badge is clearly visible and pull out your gun. The people around recoil in horror as they look at the weapon and not the symbol that shows your authority to wield it. You raise your hand and open your mouth to explain that you are a detective and plan to investigate the explosion when your whole right side goes black for a second. When you come too, you are sitting in a chair in the back; ice pack tied your head and gun on the desk in front of you. You feel as though a car just tried to make love with your head. You lift you head up to see a large, burly, and muscular man staring over you.
“Surry ‘but that ufficer. Didn’t mean nu ‘arm. Just ‘ught you was a rubb’r is all.”
He pronounced his O’s very awkwardly, almost as if he were replacing them with U’s. And it came to no surprise, as his nose was bent in an unworldly fashion.
You run to and stumble head first into the door, turning everything red for a spit second. You don’t let that stop you, though, as you burst out the door, full of concern for the welfare of your co-workers. The office isn’t far from Subway, so it doesn’t take you but minutes to get there. The imagery was horrid. The room was covered in blood and torn pages everywhere. You turned to your left to see the gutted remains of your employer and a blood stained man in a white shirt shuffling around with a broken arm, banging and scratching at a closet door, which emitted the sound of soft weeping. It tore at you. You couldn’t stand looking at it, so you ran. You ran and ran until your vision turned bright white. Then there was darkness and your world began to shake. You woke up in a cool, small office, and screamed. Within seconds, two people burst through a nearby door, one with some cup, another with a small medicine bottle in hand.
And yes, you did hit your head so hard that you saw a possible future event. Thank the RNG for that critical failure and my inherited kindness.
You try to find any truth behind the horrific lies and find several articles, games, and porn videos,
It takes you 45 minutes to get where you are now, and you still haven’t made it halfway home yet. Still, at least you aren’t alone. Seth, a fellow student from BU of whom doesn’t live far from you. He is cool, for the most part, and even offered to buy lunch before you left, though you turned it down. You aren’t so sure if he was just trying to get a date out of you, or what. You shook your head of the idea and tried to focus on the road. Suddenly you see a couple of guys running onto the road. You turn completely around, which causes Seth to do the same. One of them started banging on a car not too far behind you, which cause the guy I it to start honking and cursing. What happened next nearly put you in a state of shock. The guy honked twice when fifteen or so of those. . . people piled all over the car. They banged and tore at it. You could have sworn you saw one of them rip off the door handle. You look in terror as you saw them peel open the car and pull the guy out. Several of them trusted its hand and started tearing him to shreds. You freaked and tuned back around and drove as quickly as you could though the traffic.
You go through your rounds, starting with the top of the list. You thoroughly check each room for anybody who might not be feeling at their best and sneak them some chocolate and flowers. Well, everyone but the one guy who was admitted in there chocoholism. For him, you brought some soda. It’s not something you are supposed to do, and even the rest of the staff knows that you do, but it’s the only thing that keeps them in line, so they keep it quiet. Besides, most of the people that live there are old war vets and boxers. Once you are sure that everything is alright you go out to the roof. Never really anything to do there but stand around. It's tearing at you. ((ooc: pardon the pun)) 'Still, it could be worse.' You think to yourself. Then something catches your eye. There is a pillar of smoke some distance to the west.
You take one last look at your masterpiece of perfection which calls itself a shield with a candle lit lantern in it. You looked and it was good. “He will stare at this in awe and wonder and maybe even line my pockets with a little more food money.” You say out loud. But, you digress. You can send it to the consumer in the morning. Making it was a long and tiring job. You make yourself some lemonade, sit back on your soft chair, and flip on the television. There is nothing that can ruin your day today. At least that’s what you think, until you turn on the news and see a piece on a particularly violent riot heading down I95, being shot apart by police and even army officials. Ten seconds in you see the line brake as people are torn apart. The vision would be more like watching native Americans run through colonist, if the native Americans outnumbered them twenty to one.
Author
Topic: Dead end (full house. Might allow in more people when this proves to be stable) (Read 9877 times)