"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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JamesRenard
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Furry on Ice
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Marco had no idea how long he'd been asleep. It could have been one minute, five minutes, or possibly even a couple of hours. All that he knew was that something was making some noise and it had prematurely woken him up from his much-needed slumber. 'Come on, five more minutes, please?' he thought.

A door opened further down the corridor from where he was slumped against the mirror. It let a little bit of morning sunlight into the building, enough to brighten up the area immediately next to entrance, but not enough to substantially illuminate the rest of the hall. There was the sound of what seemed like whispering, but Marco couldn't tell who was there, or what they were saying.

Everything that was lit up near the doorway looked blurry, which Marco guessed was just his eyes not focusing properly after his so-called sleep. He went to rub his right eye to try and sort his vision out (as much as it could), but when his fingers didn't make contact with concave-shaped glass and metal framing, he realised that his glasses must've slid right off the bridge of his nose while he was asleep.

'Ohhhh crap, not good, not good, where are they?'

He patted his hands down over his lap, over his legs and then finally along the floor, wincing when a triangular piece of glass that had belonged to a broken mirror painfully dug into his palm. 'They didn't just grow legs and wander off, did they?' he thought, clutching his bleeding palm with his other hand. While the idea of spectacles suddenly sprouting limbs and scuttling away like a crab on a beach would have sounded funny in a different time and place, right now it was no laughing matter. 'Perfect, it's too dark to-oh wait, I have a flashlight. Duh.'

Mentally kicking himself for completely forgetting about a key piece of his inventory, he located his bag and reached inside, his non-bleeding hand coming into contact with something that felt cold and was cylindrical. He pulled it out and tried to turn it on, but to no avail. 'C'mon, where's the on button? Am I even holding it the right way-'

Realisation.

"Oh SONOFABITCH!" Marco shouted as he hurled the accursed object away from him, hearing it bounce against a pane of glass opposite him, enough to chip it slightly but not to crack or break it, and then land on the floor with a clang. The candelabra rocked slightly as it came to a complete rest not far from Marco, his head now buried in his hands, tears and blood dripping down his jacket.
Let's show that private threads aren't necessary! I pledge not to start any private threads on island in V5. If I started a thread, you are welcome to join it.
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B006: Darren Fox - Weapon(s): Lego "Creator" bucket /// Status: ALIVE /// Current location: Meltdown (Nuclear Plant - The Reactors)
Thread chain: O | O=O=O | O=O=

B030: Luca Johanssen - Weapon(s): N/A /// Status: DECEASED /// Body's location: Leap of Faith (Northern Coast - The Zipline Attraction) /// Rank: 134/152
Thread chain: O | O=O
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