"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Spinnentier
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Tormento Pabulum
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No sounds yet, just muffled talking... no gunshots or screaming, which was a good sign. Maybe Will might still be alive. If he wasn't, then really nothing could be done for her anyway, as whoever could have hypothetically killed him would then be on their hypothetical way to kill her. Yes, truly she was helping herself out of this complete wreck of an emotional state with thoughts like that.

If she was to have any hope of surviving this, she had to be optimistic... something she was sure she'd never done once in her life. Even in the early stages of her relationship with Will, she was pessimistic about her future. But now, that wasn't going to help her. No, the only thing that could help her in this situation was herself, and that meant standing up, and at least trying to get through this.

She slowly rose to her feet, and shakily crept over to the door. She nervously peered out from the doorway to find Will standing there, pointing a gun into the room, talking with whoever was inside. But then he lowered the gun, and disappeared from her sight as he entered the room, lowering the revolver as he did so.

And so the made quite possibly the riskiest decision of her life: she followed him.

She slid across the wall, before taking a careful glance inside the room Will had just entered.

A quivering voice reached his ears.

"Will? Are you okay? What's going on?"
I'm still here, just lurking though for the most part.
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