Fantasy Sweet Dreams

[korigon]

5:58 AM.

6:00 AM.







​

The halls of Fargoing were silent, like an decrepit tomb of concrete. In short time, the prisoners would be awake, eating quietly in their well-guarded cafeteria. For now, the guards relaxed by reading magazines and smoking cigarettes. Internet was forbidden, as was contact with the outside world. Rumor had it that Fargoing was running illegal government experiments in the depths of the cracked and overgrown below-layers. As far as the guards knew, they weren't. But perhaps time would tell the truth of the matter.​

​

​

There was a faint ding as the loudspeakers began to play the pre-recorded message of the day. When the inmates had first heard the female voice, they had yelled out threats and obscenity. They were efficiently quieted by the guards soon after, and the news that the voice wasn't a real woman soon became public knowledge in the penitentiary. The monotone voice continued to drone on.​

"...Rise and shine. Cell block A-1 will begin their movements toward the dining hall. Try out our new "Auntie's farm fresh buttermilk!" cartons. Please remember that fraternizing and socializing is strictly prohibited at this time. Rise and shine, it's a bright new day.."

Daytime had arrived.​

​

 

[Levyn Ari]

Korith snapped his head up with a snort bred from exhaustion, blinking away the haze that came with that inevitable jolt of consciousness. His crossed arms were stiff as he lifted them from their resting place atop his knees, vaguely keying in to the voice mechanized by the speaker system.


Something about milk?


Whatever.


His stomach was in knots as it was and the idea of food that was born in this place certainly did nothing to mentally prepare him for a meal.


He began a slow, uncomfortable rise up to full height, resting back against the cold wall as he gave a meager one-handed shake to his mop of blond hair.


"Gotta look my best for the chumps at brekkie..." he mumbled to himself, giving one sarcastic chirp of a chuckle. The lanky gent shoved up his sleeves as much as possible, exposing the myriad of tattoos inked into his flesh. It somehow made him feel a little more real to have them showing.


Wandering tired-blind over to the bare bones toilet his cell contained, he undid his jumpsuit enough to relieve himself and then wait for the door to release. When it did, Korith's bones rattled with a large yawn that seemed to energize him enough to don an energetically smirking facade.


If this was the "daily grind", it was time to play his part.

 

[Seraphina Valentine]

Rumour was already awake when the woman's monotone voice sounded over the speakers. She had tossed and turned all night, drifting in and out of sleep but never getting any rest. She rubbed the sleep out of her tired eyes and ran a hand through her hair, brushing through the tangles as best as she could. What I wouldn't give for a hair tie and some bobby pins, she thought to herself. With a sigh, Rumour forced herself to get out of bed. She stretched as she waited for her cell door to be opened. Once it did, she walked out with her head down, struggling to prepare herself mentally for the day. She didn't look forward to it.

 

[Orliando]

Scotty sat curled up on the corner of his bed, wedged as far into the wall as he could manage. As per usual, he had risen sometime before the morning's announcement, and now found himself nervously wound into a ball of anticipation of what was to come. The young man winced at the shrill sound of the woman's voice cracking over the loudspeaker, causing him to bite down harder on the fingernail that he'd already chewed to a nub. With a heavy sigh, the boy slowly rose, raking a hand through hopelessly disheveled hair. Cracking his neck as he pulled his shoulders back, he ground his teeth together in determination before taking a final step into the hallway.

 

[korigon]

Eleanor waited patiently in her cell.


Well, it might not be fit to call it waiting. It was more like planning than waiting for dreams to miraculously come true. You see, she was planning an escape. Every morning she planned her escape, making careful note of the shifts of the officers, the mood of the workers, and matters like that.


She had done so for, what was it, fifteen years? Perhaps more. One day they would make a slight mistake, and she would escape into worlds of vibrant instead of a wall of drab gray. Some might say that hope would help you survive places like Fargoing. For Eleanor, it was vengeance. "..How cliche." she murmured, pondering over her current situation. You'd expect a superhero to turn up next, rescuing all those inmates who claimed they were wrongly imprisoned.


Yet as she memorized the position of the wardens and other seemingly useless intelligence, she found herself distracted. How she longed to see the outside again, to see the pale moon cascade on a deep blue lake. She could hardly remember her teenage years now, filled as they were with young romance and fascinating memories. How old was she? Certainly too old to get nostalgic at a time like this.


The wistfulness faded away as the 'Hotel announcer', as she fondly nicknamed it, began to drone those all too familiar words. As she stood up and slowly began making her way toward the cafeteria, she couldn't help but smile. After all, another day, another chance at escape! What could go wrong!

 

[Silver Pansy]

Graham hadn't slept much before getting sent to this place, so it wasn't much to wonder at that he was already awake by time the pre-recorded announcement started blaring in his cell. He opened his eyes slowly, still on his cot, not quite willing to start the day even if he'd long since been ready for it. Sighing quietly, he rolled into a slouched sitting position and attempted to find his shoes before remember a moment later he'd never taken them off the day before.


Another day in his life had started, boring as it had become, and as he fell into step with the rest of the miserable prisoners in his block he didn't stop his mind from wandering to that guard's ring or that prisoner's slightly less terrible pair of shoes. He thought maybe he'd seen a pack of gum in that one woman's back pocket, and as he brushed past her on his way to the dining hall he discovered that yes, she did have a pack of gum after all but not anymore.


Popping one piece in his mouth to help get rid of the sour taste that had accumulated over the night, he hid the rest of the pack in his sleeve where he knew from prior experience no one would notice and slipped the now crumpled wrapper under the collar of his nearest fellow inmate. Sure it'd be bad if he got caught, but that was all part of the thrill, besides, he knew how to cover his tracks.


Stepping into line to grab his breakfast, he made a mental note to pass his milk off to some other unfortunate, there was no way he was drinking it, not on top of everything else they were forcing him to eat. Graham took the most secluded seat he could find, settling in some distant corner away from other people but where the guards could still see him if they decided to take role. Ugh, he'd barely been here a month and the uniformity and sameness was already getting to him.

 

[Seraphina Valentine]

Rumour kept her head down as she walked, her eyes focusing on the feet of the inmates around her. She furrowed her eyebrows as she caught the scent of what smelled like mint gum. Where was that coming from? As far as she was aware, Fargoing didn't allow their prisoners to have gum, or any candy for that matter. She thought she felt something on her collar, but when she turned to look, nothing was there.


Rumour shook her head and let out a silent laugh. Darling, you're losing it, she thought to herself jokingly, though she wasn't entirely kidding. If any place could cause someone to lose their already dwindling sanity, it was Fargoing.


Rumour went through the line, though she didn't feel very hungry. She didn't even look at the food as it was placed on her tray. She already knew from past experience that it tasted vile. She took a seat at an empty table on the outskirts of the room, trying to avoid making eye contact with anyone else.

 

[Levyn Ari]

There was a smell somewhere between regret and burnt hair that seeped into his nostrils as he made his way behind the pack into the dinner hall. Korith had only been here a few days and, while acting silently pleasant enough, had no previous want of much past getting to properly stretch his legs. That cell was everything he'd ever seen in the movies and worse. But he had no knowledge of the other inmates he was now forced into being surrounded by. Not being able to chat them up meant he had no defense or countering. So he maintained all distance in the ritualistic breaking of their fast.


Oh bloody hell, that milk.


He eyeballed the carton that had been placed upon his tray with obvious distrust, barely paying mind to the slop he had been given.


A cursory glance around meant he had a few options. The girl today, maybe? Best not to get jumpy there. Perhaps someone had a claim on her. Is that how prison works?


He shook his head and grumbled to himself, choosing instead to forgo that accusing and sexist thought pattern and place himself at the center table. It made him obviously vulnerable but he also wasn't exactly unused to eyes on him. Best not to make enemies fast here.

 

[General Deth Glitch]

His royal 'highness' heard the announcement and, in one fluid movement twisted his body so he was sitting on the edge of his bed rather then lying across it. In another movement he was stood up and then he began his rigid march to the dining hall. He was currently contemplating the fact that if he were holding an important person, such as himself, he could allow the man more luxuries then these and would by no means force him to eat with the common filth. There was no hiding that 'Lord' Bishop thought he was significantly more important then everyone, however he did not see fit to prove it through beatings and was bulky enough that anyone who was annoyed by the fact thought better of bringing it up.


James arrived in the hall, with head held high. He scanned the room and then set off to grab his food. He queued up to receive his... He would rather not attempt to describe something putrid and, in fact, upon forts arriving refused to eat it too. The guards attempted to force it down him, only to have him beat them back but, eventually he realized survival was necessary so, he poisoned himself with their food. Bishop then went over to his table, the center table, and sat at the head of it, facing the main door. People came and went, few people chose to sit there more then once and no one wanted to sit in Bishop's spot. After he sat down he said a silent prayed to god and placed his cutlery around his tray, as though setting the table and began to eat slowly and very formally, unlike most others who were busy trying to force it down and forget the vulgar taste.

 

[Silver Pansy]

As he absentmindedly forced the slop this prison was calling food down his throat, Graham took his time, as he had almost everyday since arriving, to observe the man who sat consistently at the head of the central table. He was older than him, certainly, but then again most of the prisoners were. He ate with a kind of dignity one wouldn't expect to find locked away in prison. If that was anything to go on, and it usually was, this man was obviously very important (or at least thought himself to be) and had an over abundance of pride. An interesting character no doubt, too bad they couldn't talk, people often revealed more of themselves when they had someone to listen to their ramblings.


He shifted his gaze a moment later, turning back to his food only to find it mostly gone; he'd found thinking made it easier to forget how awful it tasted and eventually it had become a mechanical motion. There was still the milk left though, and even if it was 'milk' of all things he knew better than to trust anything other than the usual gruel. Who was the closest victim this time? Usually it changed every few days, after the guys who sat there were forced to consume some manner of disgusting slop twice.


It was a girl this time, probably about his age. She still had her milk though, and it might be suspicious if the guards caught her with two. Ugh, curse him and his weakness for little girls (it didn't really register she wasn't really that much younger than him). Instead of passing it off like he planned to, like it probably would have been better for his stomach to do, he hesitantly opened the carton and chugged the milk as fast as he could without choking. Even if he did have a nasty taste in his mouth afterwards, that was what the gum was for.

 

[Seraphina Valentine]

Rumour pushed her food around on the plate, having absolutely no desire to eat it. She sighed as she pushed her tray back and put her elbows on the table, resting her chin in the palms of her hands. You'll have to eat at some point, her inner voice reasoned. Rumour sent the voice a mental glare, but grabbed her milk and opened it, warily gazing at the contents.


It had a bit of a sour smell, as if it was slightly spoiled. Rumour pinched the bridge of her nose. How in the hell did I get to this point in my life? She closed her eyes and made herself think of the coffee in her favorite cafe. Perhaps, she thought, if I imagine that, the milk won't taste as awful. Sadly, she was mistaken, and the milk tasted just as bad, if not worse than she'd anticipated. She coughed and set it back on the tray, glaring at it as if it were some sort of hideous bug.


Folding her arms, she kept her head down and looked up through her lashes at the other inmates. There was a man who seemed to sit at the table in the very center of the room every day. He held himself as if he were royalty, somehow managing to make the orange jumpsuit look regal. She raised an eyebrow as he set out his cutlery as if it were his finest silverware. She wondered what he was in for.


She decided she'd had enough of him and moved her eyes to look at a man who was also sitting at the edge of the room. He looked the same age as her, perhaps a couple years older. He moved his head and met eyes with her, and she involuntarily let out a small squeak and quickly dropped her gaze.

 

[korigon]

Why couldn't they just use some sort of air freshener and make the rooms smell like something refreshing? Fresh-baked rolls or summer air, for example. Surely it couldn't be too expensive! Of course, that was just a hopeless wish. Still, it was something to keep her mind off other things like the food. She'd weathered worse than this, and at least it kept them alive.


Eleanor couldn't help but feel amused as she watched the inmates show various signs of disgust at their breakfast. What good would being angry at food achieve? Maybe their glares would make their gruel turn into a five star breakfast.


She whispered a 'thank you' to the man who slopped a load of. . .Was it supposed to be a fruit salad? She couldn't repress the shudder that came afterwards. Tray in hand, she strode over to the center table and took a seat, making note of the people beside her.

 

[Orliando]

Scott made it a daily point to make it through any possible encounters with the other inhabitants of the prison with as little incidence as possible. He was, after all, one of the smaller males in the establishment, and the simple reality of that fact did not often escape his presence of mind for very long. After collecting his tray with a thin smile and a polite nod to the cafeteria attendant, the young man made his way to one of the vacant tables in the corner of the room, choosing a chair against the wall to settle himself for another oh so appetizing meal. It's a good thing I never had a chance to get used to home cooking...he mused internally to himself with a roll of his pale eyes as he raised fork to mouth with lackluster enthusiasm.


As he begrudgingly ate the meal, the boy's eyes stayed cautiously raised, glancing around the room as they slowly passed from one inhabitant to another. There were likely no alliances to be made among this crew of miscreants, the thought would cross through his mind with a wave of disappointment, but at least he could be aware of who to steer clear of if the need arose, and likely it would.

 

[pandification]

Each day grew more monotonous than the previous - the same monotone voice announced over the intercoms, the guards did their rounds, the inmates went to breakfast and dinner - everything was timed and on strict schedule.


Vasiliy had only been in prison for a couple years, but it was enough for him to learn the ropes. At least he wasn't in for something disgusting and despicable, like rape or molestation. He had killed people like that though, which made him feel good about himself and the deeds he had done.


Vasiliy had already been awake for at least an hour when the dual guard came by to escort him to the cafeteria. He spent most of his time in his cell doing exercises and working out - he couldn't allow himself to get weak. He wouldn't let that happen.


Vasiliy was one of the last to get to the cafeteria, but that didn't matter because regardless, they all got kitchen slop. Who knows what it really is? Calories. It's all calories to keep the inmates alive - the penitentiary doesn't care about luxury for these people.


Vasiliy took his tray and silently made his way to the end of a table. Other people were sitting at the opposite end, but Vasiliy had come to learn what happens if you sit too close to the other inmates. Either you get in trouble for being suspected of talking, or someone blames you for something. Vasiliy had been to solitude a couple times, but he preferred his regular cell. It was roomier.


Vasiliy powered through his meal unphased - when he was a soldier, he had to eat MRE's that were just as nasty, so he had gotten used to such foul flavors. The 'buttermilk' definitely wasn't buttermilk.. It was spoiled skim milk that they were trying to pass off as buttermilk. Disgusting as it may be, he would down a few drinks just for show.


At least he had some hooch brewing in his cell that the guards hadn't found out about yet.

 

[korigon]

The whole point of Fargoing was to break the spirit of the wretched inmates who lingered there. Unfortunately, there was always an 'odd egg' of sorts. It could be a desperate murderer who wants to take his life in whatever way possible, or it could be some idealistic but deranged veteran who actually believes he can escape. It certainly wasn't a common occurrence, especially at Fargoing, but it was possible on a very few dates.


One of those dates was now.


It's not a particularly pleasant thing when someone is shot, especially someone near to you. Some go down in the hollywood manner, grabbing their stomachs and grimacing before breathing out a memorable line. Some go in disbelief, others go while screaming and crying. Our 'heroic' prisoner today went down with his jumpsuit filled with urine and a look of horror in his face, his clammy hands still gripping a shiv. He just fell on his face with this frightened look on his face and a pool of dark blood filling out around him, with the other inmates failing to notice. Then someone started screaming, and the guards began yelling and howling for everyone to get on the ground or face being wounded.


It seemed a seemed as though the whole thing took a second, but then all the guards started firing. They were using H&K smgs, and even with silences, it was mighty loud.


Just your usual breakfast at Fargoing. Call it a red sunrise if you will.

 

[Seraphina Valentine]

Rumour saw the gun a second before it happened. She let out a shriek, covering her mouth as her eyes widened in horror at the sight. Her ears were ringing with the aftereffects of the gunshot, and for a moment she could only stare, her mouth hanging open in shock. The blood brought back memories, terrible events that she had tried so hard to repress. An image of her ex-boyfriend flashed in her mind.


A scene replayed, almost like a film, and she could once again see him running at the two helpless children, murdering them in his uncontrollable rage. She heard her own screams, and could almost feel the knife as she pulled it away from him, slashing and stabbing until she was sure he wouldn't do any more harm to herself or the children. At the time she'd still thought they were alive, because, surely, who could kill a child?


The memory only lasted a few seconds at most, but it felt like an eternity. Rumour let out a strangled sob as she fell to the ground, a tremor running through her entire body. Guns were being fired and inmates were screaming, running, trying to protect themselves from the shower of bullets that was now raining down upon them. She covered her ears and curled up on the floor, tears falling from her eyes as she wished for it to end.

 

[Levyn Ari]

Korith nearly flipped his tray as he fell backwards off the long bench he was sitting upon as the firing began. Until coming here, he had never seen shots fired in real life aside from a few outings shooting small animals drunkenly with friends.


That was nowhere near like this.


Not at all.


"Bloody h--" he mumbled with quiet surprise, quickly righting himself so as to hopefully not pull any further attention. He straddled the bench and hunkered down, waiting for the terror to pass with a hand instinctively covering the back of his head. He couldn't really see any of the others that he had taken a passive interest to from this position, but he couldn't fathom what seeing one of them broken and bloodied was like.


Gods, this place was a death sentence sooner or later...it didn't matter. He had no control.

 

[Silver Pansy]

Graham had gone back to watching the other prisoners after finishing his gruel, more out of habit and boredom than an actual desire to see something happen. That was why his gaze lingered on the one prisoner who seemed to express something other than absolute misery. As he fell, there was a surreal, disbelieving moment where he couldn't figure out what was happening or what that growing puddle of red under him was.


Then someone screamed.


The guns went off shortly after, and it was only by instinct that he dropped off his seat and rolled under the table, arms wrapping around his head in some sad mockery of protection. Everything got far away after that, like his mind was trying to focus on anything other than what was happening right above him. That was probably the only reason he noticed the girl next him, curled tightly into a ball next to him, crying quietly to herself. Still needing to distract himself, he let what remained of his 'big brother instincts' kick in and slowly scooted closer to her. Tapping her shoulder to get her attention, he offered her the only thing he could at the moment: a piece of his stolen gum.

 

[Seraphina Valentine]

It took Rumour a moment to realize that someone was tapping her. She slowly raised her head and saw the man she'd made eye contact with earlier. He was holding out his hand to her, and in his palm was a piece of gum. That was what I smelled earlier.


She gave him a doubtful look, not sure why he would be giving her something like that, but, nonetheless, she gratefully reached out and took it, slowly unwrapping the packaging. She studied it for a second before tearing it down the middle. Passing half of it back to the man, she popped the other half into her mouth, focusing on the minty taste rather than the horrible scene that was happening around them. Though he was the one trying to comfort her, she felt a need to help him as well.


For a fleeting moment, she couldn't help but think of how silly it was that they were using a piece of gum to provide comfort in a situation such as this. But it was the kindest thing the man could have done, and she was thankful for his actions. Rumour scooted a bit closer to him.

 

[korigon]

Eleanor had seen this scene play out before. It had to be a few years back, at least. The scene was eerily familiar and confusing to her. If you really believed you could escape, you'd have other people in on it. No one would be stupid enough to try to break free, armed only with a rusty prison shank. Could it be a well thought out plan, or could the recently deceased be so deranged that he actually thought he would escape?


Putting that thought aside-What would it help with? People were dying around her. Definitely not one of her goals in life. People around her were falling to the ground, though Eleanor wasn't sure they were doing it to avoid being shot. What did it feel like to be shot? She didn't want to find out, and dying in a 'unknown' mass murder wasn't the ideal way to go.


So she remained prostrate on the ground and waited for the killing to stop.


---------------------------------


And then, it did.


The once occupied cafeteria was now a quiet room, apart from the groans and curses coming from some lightly wounded inmates. The whole floor was a sickening crimson shade, and corpses were strewn from table to table. The former smell of frozen eggs and sour milk was replaced with the putrid scent of iron and human waste. Though they were highly trained, not all of the guards managed to avoid the lower intestines, and the fetid aroma drifted around the room.


There was a short pause before the voice rang out from the loudspeaker. Maybe they thought the prisoners could piece themselves back together in ten seconds. Most of the inmates weren't able to do so.


"We are sorry for the disturbance that has happened this morning. Please make your way to the 'Paradise Lounge' to change your jumpsuits and resume breakfast. As an offering of our remorse, you may talk once you have reached the lounge. Thank you, have a wonderful day at Fargoing!"


( I messed up while posting the character post and the second part of this comment wasn't included, sorry for that! I know things are going pretty slow, just stick tight and hopefully the story will get rolling )

 

[General Deth Glitch]

Suddenly someone started screaming, James was on his feet immediately. Then came the hail of gunfire, he kicked up the table in front of him and, grabbing it, dived into the corner of the room for shelter. Once he took stop of the situation he sat up against the wall, waiting patiently as he wiped off some of the gruel from his right shoulder. Then they started speaking on the loudspeaker, saying sorry. He stood up with a grunt, he had been shot in the arm, causing a huge gash but missing any major veins or arteries and hitting no bones, but had failed to notice through the adrenaline. Looking up toward a camera facing him he kicked the table in front of him out of the way, sending it flying two or so meters across the hall. Without taking his eyes off from the camera he spat towards it and then took a knee and began praying to god, asking forgiveness and requesting revenge and freedom.


Then he stood up, looking ahead, and set off toward the lounge in long, deep strides.

 

[Silver Pansy]

Once the gun fire stopped, Graham cautiously poked his head above the table, watching the guards as the voice blaring overhead apologized and informed them they would be moved to the 'Paradise Lounge' and allowed to talk. They had a lounge? Why had they never been allowed to use it prior to this? How had he never been able to find out about it until just now? He growled lowly in frustration at all the questions. It had always been a thing of pride for him (whether or not he let other people know that) to be able to know everything, especially if it pertained to his own happiness in the way variation often did.


He looked down at the girl still curled up under the table, wondering if she was going to be alright. It would be dangerous, seeming too close to her, especially now, but now that they were allowed a chance to talk, he figured it might be a good idea to at least introduce himself. Graham shifted his gaze away from her and back to the mess that had become of the dining hall, taking stock of the other prisoners more from habit than any real desire to see the varying states of depravity they were in.


The noble man, he noticed, had been shot in the arm, but either didn't notice or didn't care as he knelt down to pray and stood to stride off to the lounge as if nothing was wrong. He had a high pain tolerance, that much was certain, he also seemed to be very religious, and if it came to that, Graham might be able to use that to his advantage.

 

[pandification]

Everything flashed by like a blink of an eye - someone committed suicide, because apparently he couldn't handle Fargoing. Most people couldn't. Who would blame him? Vasiliy wasn't a quitter, so he would never think about suicide.


Whenever the shooting had occurred, Vasiliy had attempted to reason with the guard who was pointing a gun in his direction. The officer was one of the younger ones, probably trying to make his way in the system, trying to make himself useful among the ranks. Vasiliy had been a soldier and knew what it was like to point a gun at someone, especially an innocent person. Technically, Vasiliy wasn't all that innocent, but in this situation, he was. He hadn't laid a finger on anyone in Fargoing, let alone even talked to any of them.


Like everyone else, Vasiliy found himself lying on the floor, covered in blood which had sprayed from different directions. This, too, was normal for Vasiliy. The blood and gore didn't bother him; if anything, it excited him. After all, he was here for murder.


Suddenly, the intercom started up and began directing them to make their way to the 'Paradise Lounge'. Vasiliy rolled his eyes at the thought, but got up on to his feet and began moving regardless. He had a guard with a gun pointed at him yet again, so he had no choice, unless he wanted to end up like the others that is.


Vasiliy glanced around as he make his way out of the cafeteria, noticing there were far less people than there were to begin with. The only ones that survived were the ones who were smart enough to lay down on their stomachs and submit. Any one who stayed seated, tried to run, began to crawl away or even looked at the guards funny, were shot multiple times.


Vasiliy began to wonder, since there were only a few inmates left, would they get more freedom within the penitentiary? She stook his head at the thought - of course not. They were only going to the 'lounge' because the cafeteria was now considered a health hazard.


(Sorry I didn't get to reply sooner. I was gone all day yesterday and not feeling well last night.)

 

[Seraphina Valentine]

Rumour stayed on the ground after the guns stopped firing, after the voice apologized over the intercom. She was trying to compose herself, as she didn't want the other inmates to see that she'd been crying. She couldn't appear to be weak around here. Even though you are, she reminded herself. Compared to all these people, you are.


Wiping the remainder of the tears from her face, she sat up, allowing her hair to fall into her face in hopes that it would hide the redness of her eyes. She stood, her face clear of emotion, her head held high in an attempt to look less small and terrified than she felt. She wondered what this 'Paradise Lounge' was, and why she'd never heard of it before. She supposed it was only used in situations such as these, as a sort of peace offering to the inmates.


She looked at the man who'd offered her gum to see that he was busy studying the room. She felt sick as she surveyed the scene in front of her. Bodies littered the floor, not moving. She could only hope it was because they were too scared to get up, but she knew better.


Rumour had to get out of here. She walked at a brisk pace to the doors, eager to get away from the sight of blood and the stench of death.

 

[korigon]

Here Eleanor was, covered in the blood of who knows who, just standing in the middle of the room. Could I get a disease from this? Hopefully none of them had anything, though that's a sanguine hope. Strange enough, she didn't feel afraid for her life. She just felt numb and tired, like this was some sort of morbid dream and she would wake up. The first time she witnessed the killings in Fargoing, she had had a meltdown on the ground. They left her on the floor for hours while she screamed and cried, then the wardens threw her into a cozy padded room where she could calm down.


Deciding to distract herself from that unhappy situation, she focused on their destination. Probably a dull room with monotone colors, but at least it would be a better place than this. She took a final quick glance around the room, noting another person practically running from the room. At least not all these inmates were sociopath murderers who just loved carnage.