"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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Someone else walked in. They went from three to four people. Two of them being older than Dorothy and much scarier than Asha. At least she knew her friend wouldn't kill her but what about the two other boys.

She reminded herself she still had two martial art stick and Asha had her own unknown weapon unless she had something bad for a weapon like a flower or something. If that was the case, maybe she could give her one stick and keep the other.

Confrontation was not an option, it truly wasn't for now. Fighting was unacceptable because that's what the monsters who locked them here wanted. They wanted them to fight to the death until one remains, but they still had control over their actions. She was maybe stuck here and the terrorists would certainly laugh at her when she'd act out on her pacifist plan. She knew dying will suck but dying without hurting anyone, without destroying the lives of everyone around them, without making her parents wonder where they went wrong was a comfort despite the situation.

She wanted to die herself, not to live by absorbing the lives of everyone around her.

Now, she had to test out the theory to practice.

"We were chatting about nothing, really," she was off a nice start, right? No threats, no insults, not a bad tone just her regular self.

"Machete over there walked in and he asked for a place to get changed, o-or something like that."

She was hit by a wave of negativity. She started to fiddle with her bracelet on her right wrist.
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AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH · The Storehouse