"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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Sleeping was one of Samuel’s favorite pastimes. He’d actually meant to grab some shuteye on the bus anyway: he’d stayed up late last night due to a rare burst of inspiration, writing into the early hours of the morning. He’d arrived at school with four or five hours of sleep tops, and was looking forward to taking a quick nap. Nothing felt out of the ordinary to him. Sleep had just come to him easier than he thought it would.

He’d expected to be woken up by a classmate or the teacher once they’d arrived at the museum, and he’d spend a pretty okay day outside of school. Instead, he woke up tied to a chair, witnessed not one but two deaths, told he had to do the same on his classmates, and promptly put back to sleep, destined to wake up on hellmurder island.

At least he’d woken up in an actual bed.

B031, Samuel Howard: START

It wasn’t too comfortable, but it was a bed nonetheless. He’d had fallen asleep in worse places. Samuel guessed that it had been ten minutes since he’d woken up, but he hadn’t moved. Partially because he was still getting off the sleeping gas, but also because he couldn’t give a shit.

Samuel was going to die here, there was no doubt about that. Sure, he had the size and strength advantage over his smaller classmates, but he didn’t think he had the ability to make it. He’d spent most of his life sitting on his ass, after all. He wasn’t the fittest in any sense of the word. So why bother getting up? If he was going to die, he wasn’t going to spend his last moments stressed and panicked. He just wanted some peace and quiet before dying.

Without much else to do, he just stared up at the ceiling. There wasn’t much else in the room to look at. All that was in here was the bed he was sitting in, a duffel bag, and a crossbow he’d been trying to avoid looking at. Judging by the barred windows, he was either in a prison or an asylum. Prisons usually didn’t have regular doors, though.

Samuel had been lying there in dead silence, so the sound of something moving in the next room was clear as day. Well he couldn’t ignore that. He sat up in bed and stretched, unintentionally yawning loud enough for someone to hear.
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Lone Wolfe · Intensive Care Wards