Post by Nazomi on Oct 5, 2013 15:16:22 GMT -5
"Ding Dong!"
A voice came from behind each of them, feminine, startling, and filled with childish joy. Their responses mattered little. Whether they turned to greet it or ignore it there was only an emptiness that followed. It was sleep, bereft of dream or rest, awakening only to darkness deeper still than that they left. It writhed against each like a thing alive with cold claws and stagnate breath. For all their blind groping there was nothing in the empty space but the icy stone floor or walls and the shuffling of other. In that noise was the comfort of knowing they did not exist in the abyss alone; but the fear that what lurked in it was still yet unknown.
Those that sought the comfort of a weapon to steady their hand found themselves wanting. Whatever they might have had before had long since been pried from their hands before they were discarded in the hole they found themselves in now with only the clothes they had been wearing before. Those that reached for power, for light, for rage, for whatever reason they might thing to draw it up found the vital spark that had once been in them simply missing.
What voices spoke found the words distorted by the atrophy of ragged vocal cords. Those few that carried loud enough to be heard were hoarse, weary, obscured by the echoes of others. Louder than it all was scratching, the scraping of paper and slashing of something at concrete. Giggling replaced it soon after, laughter that broke into a sob and then a scream.
"And let the games begin"
Fluorescent light throbbed to life, filling the room in a blinding flash. Eyes stung, vision blurred, and their surroundings appeared in shades of sterile white and aged grey that emphasized the size of the room. It was a pit. To describe it as anything less would have been dishonest. It was just an empty space, the ceiling stretching high above them. Two doors to either side of them, one on the floor on the west side of the room, another sitting up on a metal catwalk on the eastern side.
Between themselves they found an odd mixture of allies and enemies.
Against the northern wall Nazomi sat, crouched in a ball with blood dried like rust colored wax against the floor. Paper laid scattered around him, some soaked with ink from the broken discarded pens that lay near by, others yet with large smeared letters that had almost dried black, but not enough to hide what he had written with. Briefly he turned his head towards the visitors, but his eyes too glassy to recognize any of them. There was a smile, but it too seemed oddly out of place even on him.
He waved, fingers rubbed raw and dripping still before burying his face in his knees. Whatever had happened to Nazomi in that short time had left him bleeding from several smaller wounds all over his body. The split skin that ran into his hairline seemed to be the worst of the bleeding. It had left his face and suit discolored for it. Jerking forward suddenly the not so merry madman vomited. It was fortunate that it was more liquid slurry than anything else, even if it didn't quite feel that way at the time.
Eventually he clambered to his feet, the axe he had been sitting against dropping with a metallic clatter. Nazomi eyed it for a moment before his lips spread in another manic grin before searching his suit. Producing a butcher knife, bright, shiny, and new the arrancar tossed it to the ground in front of him for whatever the gesture was worth. Then to his pocket watch, which he opened without actually looking to it. He hadn't needed to after all.
"Tick tock, the current time is midnight. You have..." His voice came out just as guttural as everything in the darkness had been, but note quite as obscured after clearing his throat. It was still dispassionate, his tone and mannerisms almost mechanical. The pause as he peered down to check the watch was perhaps the most animate thing he had done since standing.
"Fifty-nine minutes and twenty-fo...three seconds before one of you dies. This is a rule. You should probably pay attention to rules when you find them." A soft and unnatural laugh was all he could manage again. He sucked in air, sure to speak again when the lights flickered out. Whatever noise Nazomi began to make ended with a louder wetter sound of ripping meat and a gurgle. Then nothing. The abrupt emptiness remained that way for a few more dreadful moments before light once again filled the room.
Where Nazomi had been standing was a mess of blood, trails leading from it to either of the now open doors in the room.
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Word Count: 812
Gp Gain: 16
GM POST
Current in game time: Midnight
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