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The girl who dreams on the back of a giant space turtle.
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((Isabel Ramirez continued from TFW you'll never find out what's in the basement))

Isabel felt at home as she sat in the dank and musty shower room behind the water treatment room.

Her back was pressed against the wall as she slowly slid a damp rag along the length of her sword, her sickle and flashlight sitting on the ground next to her, the flashilight illuminating the corner of the room she sat in. The blood that had coated her sword had begun to stink, and Isabel didn't want any chance of someone detecting her in case she needed to hide. The blood that had coated her sweater didn't stink, fortunately enough, perhaps because it had been absorbed into fabric rather than coating a non-porous metal.

Isabel eye's flitted over to the airlock-like doors separating the showers from the main room. There had been several bodies in there, all murdered fairly brutally, the handiwork of another student no doubt. Whoever did it was obviously long gone after a bit of careful examination of the room, and clear signs of who murdered who had begun to rot in the damp air. If Isabel had to guess, it was probably that Nancy girl, knowing the details she remembered from the announcements. Idiots fought her head on when they could have just turned tail and run, or maybe engaged her with a surprise attack.

Isabel rubbed the cloth on the end of the sword, getting off the last bits of Danny's blood. The stench from the corpses had been awful when she had entered, but thankfully the doors in the back seemed to keep the worst of it out of the showers, and Isabel got the security she needed to clean her sword and take a breather after all the events of the day.

Isabel smiled as she wiped away the last of the blood on the tip of her sword and examined her work. All nice and polished, ready for anyone that dare try to stop her from winning... or anyone else, for that matter.

She scooted herself and her stuff over into one of the few showers with a still standing curtain, her halberd's handle awkwardly scraping against the floor before she shut the curtain behind her and flipped off her flashlight. She was safe in here, she could wait out the rest of the day, and if anyone came in... well, it seemed that this area was already proven to be a fairly good defensive stronghold.

Now to just sit, relax... and listen.
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Violence Is Usually The Answer · Water Treatment