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"That's a real relief," Matt said, not sounding the slightest bit convinced. Slowly, he moved to sit down - might be the last chance he has, for all he knows.

Looking at Nate, Matt unconsciously began to size him up. He was... short. Extremely short. That, and he looked too young to be in high school. Considering that a few terrorists had just managed to kidnap and transport god knows how many people to god knows where in god knows how little time undetected, he decided not to think about it too hard.

He really wasn't thinking too hard about what was going on. Mostly, he thought that the size difference between Nate and the staff was almost funny. Any other situation and he might've laughed, but waking up outside tends to leave him in a bad mood.

What he said next, he didn't really have any answer to. Just silence.

He was starting, slowly, to take in the gravity situation he was in - no more panic and anger, just fear. Pure, unadulterated fear that he was going to die here. That he was going to die a virgin, that he wasn't going to do any of the other things he had wanted to do with his life, that he was d-e-a-d, dead.

He looked down and held his head in his hands - this was definitely happening, wasn't it? It wasn't some vivid nightmare he was having the night before the senior trip. This was, for now until what might be the end of his life, reality.

He had to try, of course. He was trying to remember the lecture Danya, contender for world's biggest asshole, had given. Last man standing wins, but if you don't kill anyone, you win the grand prize of participating next time around. Great.

He was trying his best not to think about what he'd have to do if he wanted to win.

Looking up to talk, Matt pulled out and displayed his assigned "weapon". "Selfie stick," he said, sounding the slightest bit disappointed.
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Dear God · Crematorium Chapel