Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
ZetaBoards - Free Forum Hosting
Fully Featured & Customizable Free Forums
Viewing Single Post From: Hideaway
Member Avatar
Mr. Danya
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((B025 - Sandy Bricks: start))

Sandy Bricks was experiencing a hell within a hell.

When he’d come to in the AT’s sick and twisted presentation, he’d tried to realise what was going on, tried to keep calm and level headed, tried to make some sense and understanding of where he was. That had lasted right until they blew Mr. Graham’s brains out.

All the noises had suddenly turned into a high pitched static and everything around him had just gone blurry. He’d heard everything, but understood nothing, He’d kept trying to catch his breath, regain some semblance of lucidity, but ultimately he had blacked out before Tracen had even put his gas mask back on.

He’d come out of his unconscious state in a startled daze, covered from head to toe in a thick sweat, and it took him a while to even register where he was.

He was still hiding in the store room that he’d awoken in, curled up with his head pressed against his knees as the quiet pacing of rats moved around him.

His body was covered with a slick sweaty moisture that proved uncomfortable and distracting from his efforts to concentrate and focus, but it barely measured up to what was going on around him. It was dark in the room, and that was a blessing. Darkness was comforting: it helped him feel isolated, like he didn’t have to deal with other people whilst he tried to sort his shit out. Normally he’d use music to help cope as well, but of course the terrorists had stolen his iPod, so that wasn’t possible. Every so often, he thought he heard someone outside, but whether that was just his imagination or not couldn’t be said. He wanted them to stay outside for as long as he needed, though.

He may have missed the second half of Danya’s speech, but he knew what the rules of this game were. He tried so hard to avoid these sorts of topics, but in this day and age of social media, who could really stay away from the misery that happened in the world? He knew that the collar around his neck was a bomb, and he knew that the idea was to leave one person standing. It was like something out of a sick story, but this had been a reality for so long, and now he was right in the middle of it.

He pressed his forehead harder into his legs, pushing the brim of his hat up with the top of his knees as his arms curled around his shins.

He needed calm. He needed peace. He needed to not be here.
V7 Freunde
Hey look I have a relationship thread

Lucas Brady - Believing in the Heart of the Cards - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

V6 Amigos - Spoilers!

Die Slam's Art, Die
Online Profile Quote Post
Hideaway · Storage Closet