Julius Blackwood, the ship rattles you hard as you brace for the inevitable depressurization. The shaking is so strong you have to cushion your head from banging on the bulkhead and knocking you out. You force your eyes shut and take a deep breath and...
...the shaking stops as a brief moment of weightlessness takes over before you feel a sense of acceleration that brings a semblance of gravity.
You look around the tight space you hid yourself in. It's dark, with a thin line of light penetrating from outside the space. You pinch yourself. You don't feel dead.
Julius lets out a slow, ragged breath and draws air in. As his lungs fill, his shoulders slump, relieving the tension they've been carrying so far in his journey. His hiding spot is safe from the vacuum of space, and now he knows it has breathable air. But if he can't get off this ship undetected once it docks, the whole trip will have been for nothing. It's time to start working on an escape plan.
Julius peers through the narrow gap where the light is coming through.
Metal cabinets and furniture are illuminated by some overhead lights in the room on the other side of what appears to be a hinged opening. Faint smell of coffee fills about the space. You deduce that you lucked out and squirreled yourself away within the pantry loading locker, which wasn't fully provisioned, giving you a bit of space. You figure you could get out and have access to the common kitchen area, if you wish to do so.
Once in a while, you hear faint footsteps and chatter, off in the distance. The ship occupants seem busy right now, but once all the flight checks are done, you figure it is possible for most of the crew to have free time.
The obvious choices are to keep hiding or go out and get a better sense of the space. However, other choices may be possible as you think of them.
Julius presses on the door gently -- not hard enough to move it and commit to leaving his hiding place. This might be his only chance to find a better spot to wait for the ship to land. But as used to his crutch as he was, he was still noisier and less nimble than an able bodied person. Every second he delays is a second closer to not having a choice anymore. Julius takes a deep breath, gathers his crutch under him, and pushes his way through the door and out into the open.
With your heart pounding, you push on the door. The poorly lubricated hinges give way with some complaint, "eeek." The noise is startling and you stop breathing. As if even your breath was too much after that performance.
Damn these old ships.
You say to yourself. Then wait a good minute to see if that aroused any notice.
A minute possess and you don't hear any response to the vocal furniture. So you proceed to clamber out of the cramped space.
The kitchen is unremarkable. Cabinetry with microwaves along with water and food dispensers and shelves full of RMEs fill the walls. In the middle, a bolted in metal table and chairs, enough for eight people, stands unceremoniously. A few dirty dishes litter the floor. Likely remains from an uncleaned meal before the take-off, that have fallen off during the procedure.
To your right an open double-door empties onto a hallway, allowing faint sounds of a conversation to trickle in.
You hear who you guess is the captain say,
Alright folks, this should be the standard fare. Two weeks ramp up then two weeks to reaccelerate and we'll be in Unknown space.
Jax, good job on getting the cargo squared away. I can't believe their tenacity of switching the load on us last minute and acting like it was ok.
The crew express a series of humfs and umhums that you take for agreement. Then the group seems occupied with various routine checks.
You have a feeling that someone else is there, breathing as if through a smile. It is not quite coming from the same spot as the rest of the crew seem to be. It is a strange sensation that makes your hairs stand up.
I freeze and press myself against the wall, trusting my instincts that someone is nearby. I search around to see if I can uncover where they are. I take slow, careful movements -- if the person hasn't spotted me yet, I don't want to give myself away.
You don't see anyone immediately in your surroundings. The feeling is unnerving. Like someone is right at the edge of your peripheral vision, but as soon as you look, there is no one there. Perhaps you are just tired and you mind is playing tricks on you.
You are still in the kitchen. Perhaps more paranoid. What do you want to do?
Did they say it was a four week journey?, I think. My stomach gurgles and I put a hand on it as though that will shush it. I look around the kitchen and see shelves of MREs. I grab a couple and stuff them in my pockets. Then I make my way -- slowly, carefully -- to the kitchen doorway and peek out, looking for crew members and places to hide that might let me sneak around the ship.
You rifle through the pantry for some food and find some packs labeled "Lack-zagna", "Rust Beef", "Hungry Hungry Caterpillars", "MoShroom Surprise", and containers with tape on them and the words "Human Food" written in marker. At least there are also some bottles of "Weater".
The crew is not exactly swimming in luxuries, but hey, you've had worse. You realize that your biggest problem will be that all the food and Weater are dehydrated and will require the use of a food hydrator and processor to eat. You consider if you should try to warm one up to calm down your nagging digestive system.
You peak around the doorway and see a dimly lit hallway that must span a good portion of the ship. The voices are coming from the fore on your left, where the hallway ends in an open and lit doorway that just barely reveals the back of a woman.
The aft end in a large double door, which you guess may be either cargo or engineering. There are a number of closed rooms on the walls of the hallway, in either direction. These could perhaps be personnel quarters, but it's hard to know for sure.
There is also a dark opening not too far from you, but the angle doesn't let you see inside.
This looks like a ship. Yeah, a ship. It’s definitely not a flying house. You figure it must have all the rooms mentioned and some bathrooms as well as a specialized room or two for any sorts of activities. Some ships have crawlspaces for cabling and such, but who knows if that’s even true.
I frown and put the food back on the shelf. Rehydrating anything could be too much noise, so I don't want to risk it right now. That will have to be a problem for later. Maybe after the crew eat, I can steal their leftovers. But for that to be feasible, I'll have to find a way to get around the ship.
I focus on the next task.... I try to focus on the next task... tears prick at the corners of my eyes. If I were still at home, my mom would have made dinner and we'd all be sitting around the table -- wait, that's not right. It hits me like a ton of bricks. My brother is dead. My mom is inconsolable. The floodgates threaten to open, but I blink back the tears and suppress a sniffle. Not now, I tell myself. If I get caught now because I can't keep it together, everything I've done so far will be for nothing.
I take a deep breath and focus on the next task. I need a way to move around the ship. I consider the hallway, but I catch a glimpse of a woman's back in the distance and freeze. I can't risk it. I look around for any other option and finally notice the dark opening. It may be nothing, it may be everything. I take a careful look inside.
Subtle hints of grease and mold fill your nostrils as you decide to make a go for it. It's not far, just ten feet or so. This is something you can do. Seeing nothing better, you look towards the helm and seeing no apparent change, sneak across.
You stick out your crutch and ready to move fast.
Damn! That was a bit louder than you hoped. You take a quick look back towards the front, as you slide into the shadows.
You can just imagine someone turning around as you hear a woman's voice yell out,
Tie down your shit people. No not now. Focus on finishing this up. All we need is any of our systems failing because you screw something up.
You find yourself in a small space with an opening going up and down between the floors. In your rush, you almost fall in, but catch yourself at the last minute.
This seems to be a ladder, leading up between at least two more floors of this ship. On the opposite side of the hall you just snuck across is another opening, but it seems to open to a bathroom.
I balance my crutch on my bad arm and use my good arm to grip the ladder. I climb up to the next floor of the ship.
As you go to grab the ladder and look for your footing, you see something out of the corner of your eye. You instinctively look over and jump up as a silhouette backlit by the dim hallway lighting appears right next to you.
Although hairs stand up on the back of your neck, you catch a firm grip and don't even drop your crutch. You take a deep breath and look in the direction of the hallway and no one is there. No silhouette, not a sound. You pause with hopes to hear anything, but the only sounds coming to you are the hum of the engines and distant chatter from the helm.
You make your way up and see a narrow hallway going port and starboard with open doors at either end. Inside are what appear to be gun ports and firing controls. Two closed small doors, one on each side, also appear near the open gun rooms.
You look back down to see if anything is following you, but see nothing but the stair tube, going two flights down.
I practically bite my tongue to stifle a scream, but as soon as I gather myself enough to look back, the hallway is empty again. My heart races in my chest as I look around frantically, trying to see where the figure went. There's no trace of a shadow, no sound of movement... I am alone.
That's twice my usually trusty instincts have had me jumping at shadows. Maybe it's an effect of being in space? I've never been off planet before. That must be it.
I step into the upper hallway and peek into the gun rooms briefly before focusing on the closed doors. The crew won't be occupied for long; I'd better find my hiding places quickly. I open the door on the left gingerly, ready to run at the first sign of activity.
The door hisses open. On the other side are rows of munition and an elaborate set of tracks, pneumatic tubes, and hoses that serve as a feeding system for the large ship weapons.
The room is quiet, but very tight. Not a place you would want to be while the guns are being used.
By the location of the other door, you assume it must serve same purpose, but for the turret on the other side of the ship.
I file the information away for later use and make my way back down the ladder to check the bottom floor.
The ladder leads to a large dimly lit space with large and formidable structures that you can recognize from your studies. You are obviously in the engine room. At the front a large cylindrical structure with various pulsing lights and control tables fill the space. You figure this must be the reactor that powers the whole ship.
Towards the back on each side you see walkways and tunnels surrounding two large engines that run half the length of the ship. In the middle of the back wall is a closed large double-door.
This overall space has many awkward shaped structures, which afford you with many potential hiding spots. However, hard to know how easily you would be spotted, if someone were to actively work in here.
My shoulders relax just a little bit with the knowledge that I have at least one good candidate for a hiding spot. But my stomach rumbles again and I think back to the kitchen. I'm starting to feel more confident wandering the ship, and I wonder if I can find a hiding spot on the main floor where I can watch the crew more closely. I still have hopes of eating any leftovers they might leave.
I creep back up the ladder and peer out into the main floor to re-establish where the crew are and what they are doing.
The crew seems to have scattered throughout the ship. You hear some sounds coming out of the fore, but no specific conversations. As you peek out, you see some of the rooms towards the back of the hallway are now open, as is the large double door, which reveals some sorts of workshop space with another double door behind it.
You would look more, but have to quickly hide back behind a corner as you see movement and hear a conversation from the workshop.
Jax, you're so great. We're so thankful.
The quiet mocking voice is answered with snickering,
If I hear another thing about how great Jax is, I'm gonna lose it. What's so special about this cargo anyway. We totally pissed off a regular client for this. The money better be worth it.
...
Hey did you see my ball-peen?
Nah, I don't touch your tools. You probably didn't secure it and it's somewhere on the floor.
Urgh! So annoying.
Maybe Jax took it.
Funny.
You listen as the conversation continues, but are startled and press yourself against the wall as you hear the sound of footsteps walking from the fore towards the ladder tube you've been hiding in.
However there is one more thing that catches your attention. On the wall, right in front of you, a small winking happy face is scratched into the paint.
My breath catches in my throat and all of my confidence from my journey to the upper and lower floors evaporates. I am so completely screwed right now. But the footsteps are coming quickly, and I don't have time to panic. I duck back into the ladder tube and make my way down. I catch a glimpse of a face scratched into the paint, but turn my head away quickly to pay attention to the ladder and avoid dropping my crutch.
You startle and, in a rush to hide, the crutch slips from you fingers and clamors down the tube to the floor below, making a loud noise. Too afraid to look behind you, you stare at the wall, at the strange scraping. It seems to mock you just as you hear,
Look here. We have a stowaway!
Then feel a sharp pain in the back of your head that brings on a sound like of thundering herd of horses in your head. And then everything goes black.
...
Are you ok, honey?
Julius Blackwood, you hear a warm familiar voice and open your eyes to see your childhood home.
Did you take a nap there?
Bright rays of sunshine streak in through the sheer curtains. You feel safe. You are also six and the voice is coming from your mother, who is smiling at you.
The sun dapples across my face and warms my cheeks. I smile back at my mother and blink the sleepiness from my eyes. Today is a good day. I don't know why it's a better day than any other -- I just know I feel more relaxed than I can ever remember feeling before. I hop up from the dusty living room couch and give my mother a tight hug. I let myself bask in her scent and closeness for just a moment, before I catch a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye.
My favorite spaceliner set is strewn across the floor. I smile and pick up each piece, linking the different spacefaring cargo containers together with a locomotive ship to form a train. I pick it up and zoom it around the room, occasionally glancing back at my mother to bask in that smile a little longer.
Your brother comes into the room and starts playing with you. You fly around and have your ships chase each other around making engine and shooting sounds. You say,
pew pew. Errranng. You’ll never catch me!
Only to have your brother frown and reply,
Yes I will. I got you now. Pew pew
He then makes a sound of a big explosion, gets overzealous, and smashes your ship.
Toby, no!
I whine at Tobias as my ship comes apart and clatters to the floor. There's no real malice in my voice, though -- the toy isn't broken and I still want to play. I leave the spaceliner where it's laying and pull a gunship from the toychest in the corner.
I've got you now! Pew pew pew!
I chase after him with my halting gait, laughing and carrying on.
Your mom, now in a different room, speaks up,
Everything ok, honey? What are you doing?
Pew pew pew!
I zoom my gunship into the kitchen and circle around my mom.
We're playing spaceships!
I run back out and start shooting at my brother again.
Who are you playing with sweetheart?
Tobias starts to run away with his ship pretending to dodge your shots.
I chase after him and grab my fallen spaceliner, now shooting at him with a ship in each hand.
Toby, silly!
(Current vibes I'm getting:)
Who's Tobee?
You mom's question feels very strange to you.
Who's Tobee?
Her voice is strange.
Who's Tobee?
The voice seems distant, distorted and then all of a sudden very near as you are shocked with an abrupt bucket of cold water dumped over your head and come to. Your head is bounding, blood trickles down your forehead, your hands and feet are tied to a chair. As you open your eyes, you hear again,
Who's Tobee? And what are you doing on MY ship?
In front of you is a short, rough woman, with a face that means business. Behind her stand three silhouettes.
I think we may need to be a bit more persuasive boss. He's obviously a spy. They've got to be after the cargo.
One of the silhouettes comes into the light. It is a man with a dark face that has weathered a few emergencies and small brown eager eyes. He smiles with glee, but she holds out her hand to him holding him back and turns her gaze back at you.
My eyes shoot open and I try to raise a hand to rub the water away, but instead rope cuts into my wrist. I struggle instinctively, but only succeed in making my head pound harder with the effort. My heart races as I look between the woman in front of me and the man just behind her. This is really, really, really bad.
I swear I'm not a spy!
I answer the question hurriedly, eager to avoid whatever punishment the man has planned for me.
I just wanted to get off planet, I'm not trying to steal anything or break anything or--
Tears spill over in my eyes and I try to stifle a sob. Surely, these people are going to kill me.
The woman leans forward and softens her voice,
You see, I want to believe you, but of all the ships you could have stowed away on, it is hard to believe in the circumstance that you happen to choose this one, for this particular journey. It is very opportune of a happenstance.
The man's smile doesn't waver,
Look around buddy. If you don't start giving us some actual answers, it will be a much shorter trip than you might have imagined.
As you look around, your heart skips a beat, as you realize that you are tied to a chair in an airlock.
The woman continues,
We're going to give you until tomorrow morning to re-think your answer. But, if you prove to have nothing of substance to give us, I will be forced to lighten the load. One last time, who is Tobee and where is he hiding?
Toby is-- was my brother. He's dead, he's not on the ship.
My face falls. It's the first time I've said it out loud.
I can no longer contain the tears and my shoulders shake as I sob, but I try to continue talking anyway.
Your s-ship, it was on the end at the port and they were loading when I jumped the f-f-fence. I got on the first ship I s-saw.
The woman looks at the man next to her,
You and the others search the ship.
Then turns back to you and sternly says,
I sincerely hope that you are telling the truth. Otherwise I’ll be forced kill the both of you.
The man walks away, then she looks back to one of the remaining silhouettes,
Guard the door.
And walks away.
The silhouetted man steps out, looks at you, and presses the button to close the airlock door. One silhouette stays in the shadows, never moving, giving you a strange feeling as the door closes.
...A long time passes. All the emotion coupled with lack of sleep knocks you out.
..You don't know how long you have been asleep, but when you come to, the airlock door is open and there is no one around. There is an unsettling stillness to everything. At first you don't dare to move an inch. But, then more time passes. Finally, you gather the courage to move around a bit and, to your surprise, you notice the lack of the familiar chafing of the restraints. Your stomach groans from hunger.
I spend a few minutes pulling myself together, taking deep breaths now that I'm not hiding or being watched. I stretch my arms, roll my wrists, and flex my ankles. Tentatively, I stand and approach the door. I peek through to see if anyone is visible.
You slowly make your way towards the door to peek out, but before even getting there, you notice a pool of blood right outside the threshold. The liquid is well on its way in finding a low crevice in the floor to drain into. As you run your eyes and follow to its source, you stifle a scream.
There before you sitting on the ground is the crew member who stayed behind to guard you. His face is carved into a grotesque smile, one eye is closed, and a knife wedged deep into his forehead. The side of his head seems to have been smashed with a heavy blunt object. On the wall beside him, a winking happy face is crudely drawn with what you presume is his blood.
The sight is so startling and unexpected, you almost fall back. And as you do, you feel like you see something out of the corner of your eye. You instinctively turn to look at it, but there is only the empty hallway.
You brace yourself against the wall and take a deep breath, but don't loose your composure. The man's body is motionless. There is music coming somewhere from the ship.
I kneel over the man and check for obvious signs of injury, a pulse, breathing, etc.
The left of his head is caved in by some blunt object. You turn the head to examine the head-wound, causing blood to ooze out, pulsing slightly until it stops and the body ever so slightly deflates with faint exhale. The man's eyes stare blankly past you.
I sigh and peek into the corridor. I look around to see if I can figure out a) if anyone's there, and b) where the music is coming from
The hallways look eerily empty. The music bounces off the walls and the reverb throws you off, but you think it may be coming from the front of the ship. Maybe.
I creep toward where I think the music is coming from. I'm tense and keep checking over my shoulder.
You slowly follow the music creeping towards the cockpit all the way at the end of the hallway. Shadows dance as the light in that space flickers in and out. The hall seems more familiar, but all four doors are open. Behind each opening is a dark room, spilling its shadows onto the unwelcoming metal floor in front of you. The kitchen seems to be the only exception.
Julius sneaks through the ship toward the cockpit, peering into the rooms as he passes them. His heart beats out of his chest.
You use the shadows to your advantage as you slide from corner to corner. Your eyes adjust to the dark and you scan each room. To your relief they seem empty. Except, as soon as you let your self relax just an inch, you notice that the kitchen light seems to flicker as if somebody was there.
You are so still you even forget to swallow. You gulp your spit and inch forward...
One small step...
Then another...
You brace yourself for what is about to come next...
There in the middle of the kitchen, on the metal table are two bodies stacked on top of each other. They are so badly beaten it takes you a few seconds to discern where the heads are. Appendages sway in awkward unnatural angles with the motion of the ship as blood drips from them forming patterns on the floor. The only source of light seems to come from under the counters. Its angle makes it pass right through the gruesome scene, projecting its outlines onto the hallway wall. You can almost hear the violence of the scene in your head. The force and vigor with which these acts were committed must have been significant.
And then, just as you thought you've been bludgeoned enough by the visceral imagery something touches your foot...
Frozen in place you slowly look down to see one of the heads, which has rolled against your leg, now staring at you with an empty twisted gaze.
Julius jumps back from the head with a clatter of footfalls. He turns away from the gruesome scene in front of him and vomits into the corner of the room. He closes his eyes, unwilling to look back at what he just saw.
Moments pass as you hide in the comfort of the dark room. But the stillness is pierced by that music, now louder, still coming from the cockpit. You slowly make your way towards the sound.
The space is filled with screens and controls, some broken from what looks like a blunt object. A view of the programmed route and the end destination flash in and out on one of the screens.
In the middle of the room a woman sits on a chair. Her eyes are gauged out and blood trickles down her cheeks, which are cut to stretch into a grotesque smile. The sides of her head are bloody. She has obviously suffered severe beating with something hard. Even with the mutilation, you recognize the captain, who so sternly talked to you, what feels like moments ago. She hears you approach and says in a trembling slurred voice,
Wha... what do you want? Who are you?
I stifle a curse as I approach the captain, barely able to look at her.
It's not whoever did this, it's the stowaway,
I whisper-hiss at her, keeping my eyes toward the cockpit exit since I can't focus on the captain herself.
I hurriedly examine her wounds to see if anything can be done for her.
You look from a distance and see she is very badly hurt. Must have lost a considerable amount of blood and is likely blind and at least partially deaf.
As you walk toward her she flinches and point a gun at an empty space, then another, neither in your direction. She is obviously having a hard time telling where you are,
Stay away. Please leave me alone. Why? Why did you do this? You... you are a monster! I won't let you.
I take the gun from her and check it for ammo.
As you get closer to take her gun, she flinches back and yells,
Stay away! Leave me alone. You can't hurt me anymore. I won't let you! This is my ship you freak.
Her hands are trembling as she continues to search for you with her gun. Then you touch her and she pushes herself away, stands up, points the gun up her chin and pulls the trigger.
It takes you a few seconds to take stock of what just happened as bits of brain and blood slide down your face.
You stagger back shaken. Why, why would someone do this? What would drive someone to such a point? Could I fall so low?
The music still plays in the background as you rest your back against a wall, staring at the captain.
You lose 4 points of sanity! We'll track it separately from your current timeline in game. Also I should have deducted one for the previous successes. I keep on forgetting to do that. it's 1 for success and 1d4+ madness for failure. So I'm counting -6 sanity so far. With an additional -2 for not having a lvl 5 ability bump, that is 12 -6. You are at 6 sanity points! You are slowly but surely losing your shit!! You are in latent stage of Madness.When I have gathered my wits enough to do so, I grab the gun and check it for ammo. Better to be armed and in danger than unarmed and in danger.
I wipe at my face with shaking hands, which only serves to smear the blood around. I catch a glimpse of my face in a shiny metal surface and almost scream at the crazed-looking individual. I give a small chuckle when I realize it's me -- it's not funny, but I don't know what else to do.
I make a hesitant grab for the gun, avoiding looking at what remains of the captain's face, and check how much ammo is left.
You scramble to pick up the gun and what remains of your cognitive coherence. The gun has 5 rounds left. It is soaked with blood and slippery.
I clutch it tightly, counting on it to protect me even though it didn't seem to help the captain. I look around the room to determine if anything scary is inside -- aside from the obvious -- and whether or not the cockpit door locks.
Screens illuminate the room. One seems to have controls for the music that loops and fill the space. A few other screens are cracked and flickering, but otherwise no serious damage appears to have been put to the equipment. Another screen flashes the programmed route.
Aside from the lifeless body of the captain, there doesn't seem to be anyone in the room. All other seats are empty. There is an unnerving stillness all around, disturbed only by, still dripping, blood and brain matter that plops onto the ground as it detaches from the ceiling.
As far as you can tell, the door should be able to close.
I shut the door and try to jam it closed to give myself a few protected minutes to think.
You lock the door without a problem. It is the cockpit and has a locking mechanism that safeguards it from the rest of the ship.
You jam the door pocket and make sure the door can't be opened. It is not difficult. The door was designed to let those on the inside, keep people out.
I sink into an empty chair and take a few seconds just to catch my breath and think over the situation. It seems like I'm alone in the ship now with someone -- or something -- that is fucking terrifying and probably going to kill me. I might be safe hiding in the cockpit, but I can't stay in here forever. If I try to land somewhere -- which I am wholly unqualified to do and will probably fuck up -- any reasonable authority will blame me for this. But you know what, fuck it. I'd rather be in jail than dead. I move to the controls and try to set a course for the nearest port.
You start scanning for nearby systems and start planning a new route, when a voice sounds right behind you,
Well that’s no fun. We were having fun. C’mon. Aren’t you a bit interested?
I scream and whirl around, pointing my gun at where I think the sound came from.
You see nothing, but the dead body and an open door. (Which you were sure you locked.) From a distance a loud banging makes its way into the cockpit. However, there is something about that voice that sends shivers up your neck and you see your outstretched hand tremble.
eeeeeeeeek (I will formulate a real response later but for now let's go with eeeeeeek)
It takes all my effort to maintain hold of the blood-slick gun in my trembling hand. Interested? Fun? Even without looking, in my mind's eye I see the smile this... thing.... carved into the captain's face and nearly throw up. I reach over to the door and lock it again with purpose. I turn back to the controls to plot a course, but every few seconds I keep looking back at the door to see if it will open again.
You stare at the door, re-lock it, sit back into the control chair and swivel around to search for a safe destination. You find the closest candidate planet. It's a trash heap, but anything is better than here. You enter the coordinates.
Aren't you at all interested what they've got in there?
The next thing you perceive is darkness and the repetitive clanging of something hard and metallic hitting against something just as solid.
clang. clang. clang.
You open your eyes and almost have to catch yourself as you are standing in the hallway facing the back. The corridor is pitch black aside from a bright light coming from the cargo hold that makes you aver your eyes.
clang. clang. clang.
The sound bounces off the walls. You notice the music has stopped and there is a slight flicker to the slight as a vague, barely noticeable silhouette moves rhythmically with the sound.
Fuuuuuuuck. Panic grips my chest as I take in my new surroundings. This thing can open doors, move me wherever it wants... ...and then I realize, if it wanted me dead, I would be. I take a tentative step forward. Oh, I'm interested, all right. Of course I'm interested. The curiosity is there, underneath the fear, slowly scratching its way through the longer I stay alive. I take another step, and then another, until I'm stood in the threshold squinting into the light. I'm still holding the gun, but I aim it low, by my side.
clang. clang. clang.
You see two decapitated bodies in two pools of blood, their heads placed on chairs. Their eyes gauged out and smiles carved into their mouths. You stumble in horror.
clang. clang. clang.
The whole space is lit up by flood lights that are aimed at a large metallic box in the center of a hangar, not beat up and close to falling apart.
clang. clang. clang.
Beating on the box is a silhouette of figure. You slowly move forward. It is hard to see features as the backdrop of the bright light makes everything else in front of them obscured in contrast.
I think this will be worth it. I think we have what we came here for.
The clanging stops. The person turns around. Huffing and sweaty, with a big smile on his face and bloody hands, your brother, Toby looks at you,
So are you going to help me or what?
You stand there staring at your brother. Your mouth is open in disbelief. Your mind is spinning.
You are at 3 sanity and progress further into madness