❰ COUNTDOWN ❱

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✖ kills { n/a } ✖
✖ allies { n/a } ✖ enemies { n/a } ✖​

"Hey faggot, what are you doin' all the way out here by yourself? If you wanted to see some pussy, you should really ask a living bitch. Playing with the dead is creepy as fuck."

Brady looked up as the aggressive teenager kicked his foot with a face of disgust. He sighed, of course it'd be him of all people. He never liked Dominic, he was always such an asshhole to everyone. Ever since Brady came out two years ago, Dominic had always been a dick to him about it.

He absolutely loathed him.

He remained silent, not giving Dominic the satisfaction of getting to him. He learned this about a year ago, after the rude high schooler had continuously bullied him. Brady had never been bullied before, but it wasn't as bad as everyone made it out to be. Though his bully's words pierced him, it wasn't to an extent that he'd consider suicide or something like that. Some people were just natural born asshholes.

A new voice startled Brady as it echoed through the room. "Hey man. You all right? It's okay, we're not going to hurt you."

Brady, without even having to look up, smiled slightly. He appreciated his kindness greatly. Plus, he made Dominic back off, which was always nice. He quietly thanked his savior, rising to his feet slowly as he continued to smile weakly.

 

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"Hey ******, what are you doin' all the way out here by yourself? If you wanted to see some pussy, you should really ask a living *****. Playing with the dead is creepy as ****."

A small but annoyed sighed escaped Kaied lips as he heard what was said. The first person that they'd managed to find was Brady and needless to say, Dominic was being his usual self. It was times like these that made him glad that he preferred to keep quiet.

"It's okay, we're not gonna hurt you."

Least someone on this group was more willing to make allies oppose to enemies. In this place, they would definately need more help them opposition if they were to survive. Kaied soon decided it was best to see what he was doing.

"What are you doing here?" In one of the rare occasions, Kaied spoke. Curiosity truly was stronger that his instead instinct of keeping quiet. He was found next to the dead body of Sancia. Just hanging around a dead body for too long would and did spark some questions.

 

Jennifer Dunn​

No response but a weak smile. Well, it was better than nothing. Jenn helped Brady to his feet, then glanced at the body on the opposite wall—Sancia, if he remembered right. The girl he failed to save. The thought wormed its way into his brain before he could stop it, made his lip twitch and his gut wrench. He started to ask Brady what happened to her or how she got here, but reconsidered; that would probably just put the poor kid on edge. He knew enough from Darren's description of the events anyway.

Arright... Jenn took a moment to think, then turned to the party. One down, lots to go. Let's keep moving. Then he turned to Brady again. You'll probably be safer with us. Keep to the middle of the group so we don't lose you.

With that he stepped back through the threshold towards the last intersection. One down... Lots to go. How many would be left? Doubts assailed him, but rather than bring him to his knees they made him want to take off down the halls, not waiting for the others. He felt blind in this place with so much unaccounted for, so much withheld from him.

Jenn realized he'd been clenching his fists and let them loose. Keep a lid on it, he mumbled to himself. Throwin' tantrums won't help anybody.

 

After Brady being gone for far too long, Simon decides to go looking for him in the dark. Unfortunately, without a light or guidance from the the captors, he stumbles blindly down the wrong hall. He bumps into thing sharp wires and cries out in pain as blood starts pouring out of him from every wound. He tries to cover the cuts with his hands and stumble back the direction he came. The ones on his legs are deep and he doesn't make it far in the dark. He collapses on the floor, alone in the dark. His arms go limp at his sides, letting the blood drain from his neck faster until his heart slowly stops beating and he chokes on blood.

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Aeron wasn't too sure that they should have accepted Brady so easily and wondered if it was the right choice to do so. By the end of this, those that survived would be murderers at some point. It was a fact that he had to acknowledge and be careful of. People were unpredictable and there surely must have been a reason why he was there.

"Hey, if I may ask...just what exactly were you doing here and what were you doing with that body...also where is your group?" Aeron asked staring over at Brady. They were all divided into groups so there must have been some sort of reason for that as well. For Brady to leave the group only raised questions.

If he would have guessed then it was the work of the captors, but what did this solve? was it preparation for another one of those challenges that Derron and the others took part of? or perhaps a trap? He knew banding with the others would be difficult and even doing so probably wouldn't solve much.

 

♅ KILLS - NONE ☰ MOOD - BORED ♅​

Sitting around in the dark, waiting for something to happen was starting to get extremely boring. It was bad enough that he had to sit out the first game, now he had to wait while another one of his group went out there doing God knows what. For all he knew, he could be out there having the time of his life while the rest of them were sitting there like a bunch of schmucks. He let out a disinterested sigh as he sat on the floor, tapping his feet to the sweet rhythm of the silence in the room.

Looking at this bunch of assholes was a chore in and of itself. There were more guys than girls in the room, and since one of the girls in his group get offed, that was one less in the group. It was beginning to be a real sausage fest and he didn't want any of it. Their dull faces, whining about having one of their classmates killed like little bitches. He had heard about these events before, and the moment they were caught, he knew exactly what they were in for. There were no ifs, ands, or buts about it. If someone got killed, they got killed. Time to move on with life and try to survive when it is their turn until one person is left. That's how these things usually went anyways.

His bored, rhythmic tapping turned into an arrhythmic, fed up drumming as he started to wonder just what the hell that guy was doing out there. Since it seemed like no one else wanted to talk, he figured he'd strike up a conversation in the best way he knew. "God, what the fuck is that guy doing out there? What, did those sick bastards ask him to fuck that girl's corpse while they watch and jerk it?"

 

✖OOC || KILLS: 0 || OTHER✖

Marilyn seemed to be leading the way at this point, which was probably because he was holding the flashlight. He was still trying to go slow so he was at least near the others. There was a point when talking down the first hallway he noticed a place he could turn to look in. Without thinking of potential consequences for this, Marilyn turned the corner. Upon entering, he noticed it was a small room and everything felt and seemed very damp. Other than the breathing between the four that had left, he could hear another noise. Dripping water.
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Group Three enters the small damp room and right away notices a dripping sound. They decide to investigate the room to see if it holds any value to them. The flashlight grazes over a few levers on the walls and a large chain wound up in the corner, but overall, nothing stands out. A rug, damp with mold and mildew, rests on the floor in the center of the room. Marilyn, Matthew, and James come to a stop in the center of the rug. Ethan stands a short distance away from them.

Suddenly, the three teenage boys feel the floor disappear beneath their feet and they fall until splashing into deep, dark, murky water. The flashlight stops working and the metal flap doors on the trap close above; leaving them in total darkness.

The speakers crackle in the room as Ethan is left alone. "If you wish to save them, you need to find the key to unlock the doors. Good luck. There's not a lot of time."
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Suddenly he's alone in the dark, unsure what's going on with only a voice guiding him along. A key. He needed to find a key. Well... Keys are often left under a rug, so he's flipping it over to check.

 

The rug is flipped, revealing a trap door.
It appears to need a key to be opened.

15
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Okay not under the rug. Before the lights went out he noticed a chain as well, maybe the key was attached.

 

The chain does not appear to have anything attached to it.
The speakers crackle.
"The key you seek will not appear.
The answer you seek is not in here."

14
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If key was not here then it was somewhere else. Somewhere away from this room, in another, in the dark. Unless he could pick the lock that mean he probably needed to leave. And he was no lock picker. He tried, though. Grasping at the trap door repeatedly until his fingers were scratched up a fair amount. They were likely to bleed, but before then he stopped. This was pointless. Just as pointless as standing around here, so it was time to go. He isn't going back the way they came as but a different door, hoping whatever was done there was more helpful than harmful.

 

Jennifer Dunn​

Back at the intersection, Jenn led the group away from their starting room—'round the corner to another intersection—then headed left and into another dark room. Who's got the light? Shine it this way. The pale beam of the flashlight bounced around the room, and Jenn spied crates, lockers, and lots of loose articles. Supplies, thank god. Food, blankets, rope, a whistle, some stationery... A ladder hung from the wall. Not worth bringing along now, but good to note for later. And then... knives.

Jenn covertly looked back to see if the others had noticed, but it seemed like they couldn't see that far. They were all waiting on him. A lump formed in his throat, but he swallowed hard and sat on the box of knives. There's food here. Let's take a break and have some. He started passing them out. Just don't eat too much, we gotta ration it out.

The only things worth taking right now were the rope, whistle, and stationery, he figured. Most helpful of the assembled items, and light enough that they wouldn't weigh the group down. He slung the rope over his shoulder, pocketed a few slips of paper and a pen, and asked if anyone wanted the whistle. All the while he didn't move from his place on top of the knives. If they left this room without knowing they were there, all the better—Nobody else needed to die today.

 

Ethan stumbled south through the halls in the darkness. Feeling the walls, he reached a T - intersection and decided to head North again. He walked further and further until reaching another T and this time decided to continue straight. Through squinted eyes, he could make out the familiar shape of a doorway. He entered the dark room and the door locked behind him.

There was a burst of air that tickled the hairs on the back of his neck. It's too dark to see where it came from. A cough escapes as the room seems to fill up with some sort of gas. It makes him dizzy and more coughing ensues.

13
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With his history of locks Ethan wasn't going to try with the door behind him right now. That air couldn't be good, not with his reaction to it. He'll fumble around in the dark, heading across the room to try and find the other door and see if it'd open. If he doesn't hit something on the way there anyway.

 

While making his way across the room,
a small chained cord grazes Ethan's face.

12
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Oh. Ow, right in the face. Well. What was that? He's gonna pull to find out.

 

James felt himself plunge into the water below. "Great..." He muttered to himself. He hated the water. He knew his sister was afraid of it, and thus he hated it for scaring her.

 

The cord is a light switch!
The room appears to have a hazy gray fog.
That can't be good.
__// Gas Chamber Revealed

11
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