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Casey the Undead
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Let's go where eagles dare
[ *  *  * ]
((Rena Peters continued from Watch Your Step))

Despite the fact that she'd spent the past few days struggling for her life on a deserted island, Rena was now realizing that these days had fallen into a bizarre routine. Go to a place, meet some people, talk for a bit, maybe a brief spat and a moment where she truly feared for her life, flee the place, get a few hours of sleep, hear the announcements, and move on to the next place. Even the announcements themselves were getting rather routine, as Rena tried to ignore the fact that faces belonged to the name, and pushed aside the twinge in her heart she felt when he thought she recognized a name.

It was getting strangely familiar, and she was certain that that was, indeed, a very terrible thing.

So she did what she always did when something very terrible was occurring- she vehemently ignored it, burrowing deeper into the wonderful hole of denial she had made her home in.

They arrived at the tunnels with little complication, so far as Rena could tell at the very least, and with the knowledge that they had survived another somewhat routine day on this island of death and mayhem.

Of course, there was a problem when they got there that Rena had not entirely accounted for. It was dark. And while she wasn't afraid of the dark, there as something that seemed rather foolish about spending their time in there. It was an easy place to get pounced upon- someone could be hiding anywhere, really. And bumbling around blindly in the daylight was already grating on her patience- bumbling around blindly in the dark just sounded like a death sentence.

"I'm just glad that we got here before too late in the day. You two alright?"

"Fine." Rena could have said that her leg was flaring up again, and was probably scabbing over- but there was no way she'd glance down long enough to find out if that was true. She could have mentioned her fear that she was becoming too used to living on the island. She could have brought up the itching in the back of her throat, the mud and dirt caked on her clothes, the tangles knotted in her hair. But she didn't, simply because there was a time and a place for those complaints, and now really didn't seem like the time.

"We should rest once we find a good spot. Like, around the corner or something. That might be defensible, right?"

Rena nodded, finding the itching in her throat preventing words from escaping her lips. Had it not been so dark, she might have fished in her bag for water, but she instead focused her eyes directly ahead, trying not to bump into anything.

Just follow Ridley. It's worked for you so far, and nothing too bad has happened.

Rena wished she could have glanced back to see how Raine was doing, but the mere thought of pulling her eyes any other direction behind forward caused her to stumble slightly.

Her foot landed in water, and she shuddered quietly, letting her mind imagine what nasty things existed in this tunnel. Against her better judgment, she glanced down in an attempt to wipe the water from her leg.

Her heart stopped. Her eyes widened. A small squeak escaped her throat. She wanted to scream, but no noise besides that one pathetic squeak would escape. She knew she had to do something, say something, make sure that Ridley and Raine knew what was going on-but she was frozen to the spot. She didn't have the energy to scream, or the power to vomit, or the will to move. All she had left was one thought, repeating constantly in her mind.

That's not water...
It's hard to get ahead when half your friends are dead!

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It Knows Nothing of Whim · The Tunnels