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幽霊屋敷; Haunted House; Open
Topic Started: Oct 6 2016, 02:07 PM (2,208 Views)
CondorTalon
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[ *  *  *  * ]
((Nancy Kyle continued from 見てください.))

Back at the asylum, but this time, there was no fear in Nancy's steps, even as her shoes and socks got soaked from the layer of water on the floor. She pushed open the doors to the large room, taking in the sight.

This room was dank and unpleasant. Nancy scrunched her nose in disgust and shivered. In any other circumstance, she would have avoided this place, but...

It was a peculiar thing, the basement. If Nancy was going to enact her plan, she needed to play it smart. She needed to avoid large groups, and in her mind, that meant this was the perfect place. Because it was gloomy and creepy. And loners would look for dark, hidden places to hide away in. right?

Sure.

"Nancy-chan's big break is starting," she said, her voice echoing through the room. She giggled, a slight creepiness edging it, as she slowly stepped over to the back of the room. The doors there led to another area. If someone were to come in here, her best bet would be to hide in this room in the back.

One push against the doors proved her wrong. The doors were heavy and made quite a bit of noise as they creaked against their rusted hinges. The room was large. If she hid in the back, someone could have fled by the time she pushed open the doors and ran at them. She didn't trust someone to try and hide out in the room either, so...

Even if it meant getting her legs wet...

Nancy crouched down behind one of the tubs, making sure to duck low. She kept her ears perked.
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It wasn't long before Nancy heard the set of footsteps. One. Singular. Solitary. There was a lone person coming this way. Either that, or someone was carrying someone else on their back.

Nancy doubted it.

As the footsteps approached, Nancy held her breath. She looked down at the axe, which was still caked in Scarlett's blood. Even though she had prepared herself to enact this plan, she had to make sure... had to make sure she could handle it. If she went through with it and then realized that she couldn't stomach it, then how would she...

The door to the room opened. Nancy steeled herself. In a few seconds, she would find out if it was true what they said about the first kill being the hardest.

Nancy waited for the door to fully close before jumping out from behind the tub. She took a second to connect a name to the face. Sabrina Luz. She vaguely recognized her from when she passed her in the halls back at school.

Then, she swung.
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She missed.

Of course it wouldn't be that easy. Nancy expected it. Sabrina dove backward, pulling something out of her bag. In the dimness of the room, Nancy couldn't quite tell what it was, but there was glint of light as Sabrina held the object. Was it a gun? A knife?

Whatever it was, Nancy wouldn't give her a chance to use it. She swung again, in a wide horizontal arc.
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There was a flash as the thing Sabrina was holding surged forward, catching Nancy in the shoulder. There was a sting of pain, and Nancy stumbled back as her shoulder began to bleed. There was pain, but Nancy didn't slow down. Maybe it was the adrenaline, but there was a fire in Nancy's heart that couldn't be quelled.

But this presented a problem. Nancy couldn't let Sabrina get many more hits in.

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be," Nancy said, before thrusting the hatchet forward, if for no other reason than to knock the wind out of her.
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Sabrina went down, but she definitely wasn't out. That would have to be remedied. Nancy noticed that she was going toward the door, trying to clamber to her feet, trying to escape.

Nancy shook her head. She couldn't have that.

Nancy hefted the axe, her shoulder stinging as she did so. She muttered a swear under her breath, gripping the handle tighter.

Aiming square for Sabrina's leg, she brought the axe blade down with all her might.
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The axe finally connected, digging itself in Sabrina's leg. There was the blood again. Nancy grimaced as the it began to spew.

"Ugh... disgusting," she muttered.

And then Sabrina began to scream, swinging her weapon wildly in her general direction.

"Stop that!" Nancy yelled, pulling the axe out of the wound before swinging it again, this time aiming at the other girl's flailing arm.
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That was it. Sabrina's weapon dropped to the ground, which meant that Sabrina was no longer a threat. She calmly walked over and picked it up, examining up close.

It was a screwdriver. A screwdriver caked with Nancy's blood.

Nancy couldn't help but laugh at that. More absurdity. She dropped it, gripping the axe with both hands.

Sabrina was crying. Nancy couldn't help but feel... just a bit guilty. She was just unfortunate to be here when she was.

Would Nancy have felt different if it were someone else?

Maybe. Maybe not.

"Sorry," Nancy said.

Nancy wasn't sorry. Not for killing her. Maybe she felt sorry for her, but that wasn't the same thing.

She brought the axe down. No way to miss.

One would have been enough, but Nancy went for three.
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Sabrina died. It was easy to see that, as the last blow hit. Nancy paused for a few seconds, before pulling the hatchet out of Sabrina's body.

Nancy really didn't want to look down. Sabrina had been struck by the axe five times, at least. That was a lot of blood. Even Scarlett had only been hit twice. Nancy breathed heavily, but tried to calm her breathing. She looked down cautiously.

Yep, definitely a lot of blood. She coughed a few times. She... should probably do something about the body that was currently lying right in front of the door. She didn't want to touch it. But she would have to. She looked around the room, and got an idea.

Nancy grabbed Sabrina's body by the legs, dragging her over to one of the tubs lying on its side. She rolled the body into the tub, before moving to the other side.

With great effort, she tipped the tub over, so that Sabrina was completely hidden underneath the tub. She walked around the tub, making sure none of Sabrina was poking out from under the tub. She then tapped the bottom of the tub a few times.

"You stay there."

Nancy walked over to the dropped screwdriver, picking it up before moving over to the back room and sitting on one of the benches within. She got to work treating her wound.
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Nancy set the hatchet down and tucked the screwdriver into her skirt. She had shift it around a bit so that it didn't stick out of the bench, but it eventually went in neatly. She dug through her bag for the first aid kit, opened up, and starting slowly treating her shoulder.

She hissed in pain when the alcohol stung her wound, but she didn't skimp. She couldn't afford to.

She had just gotten the bandages out of the kit when she heard the door to the main room open.

Nancy's breath caught, and she began to wrap the bandage around her shoulder quickly, hoping against hope that she'd be able to finish before whoever it was had found her. She tore off the bandage and fished around for an adhesive, while she contemplated just rushing out without it. Her hands worked regardless, and finally managed to seal the bandage. She hastily threw everything she had into the first aid kit, closed it, and threw it into the bag.

It hit the bottom with a thump at the same time the door opened.

Nancy stared down the boy that had just entered the room. She was drawing a blank on his name right now, but that wasn't important.

She kept his eyes on him as she felt the bench for the axe, her heartbeat drowning every other noise out.

Her hand found it. She stood up and swung.
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Nancy head spun as she was thrown through the doors and landed on her back. She tried to get up, but her shoulder gave out as a dull pain shot through it, and she crashed to the ground again.

She grasped air where the handle of the axe should have been, and it took a few seconds to register the clang against the far wall for what it was. By that point, Sandy was bearing down on her. There was no time left to get up, no time left take in a breath.

Certainly, there was no time to grab the hatchet.

Instead she wheezed out whatever breath was left in her lungs, and as the distance between Sandy and her approached zero, Nancy began to move her arms, desperately trying to fend off Sandy's attacks while at the same time trying to hit him.

All it accomplished was an unfocused, directionless flailing.
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Her head exploded in pain as the blows came down her face. She wanted to scream, but she didn't dare open her mouth. She tried to move her hands to block the blows, but she couldn't coordinate.

Her thoughts were a blur. Colored blotches dotted her vision, brighter than the surrounding room. Another blow came down, and she could feel something shift painfully.

That brought her momentary lucidity. As another fist came, Nancy roared, bringing her hand over to catch it. She was tired, and her hand was pushed back into her face. But it didn't hurt as much, and that's what mattered.

Nancy pushed herself forward, her free hand extending and pushing Sandy off. She followed up with a foot, bringing it upward to catch him right between the legs.
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Nancy was yanked backward near inches from her axe, and spun hazily, trying to get Sandy's grip off of her. She was beyond coherent thoughts now, as she scratched and swung and punched and kicked, trying to get him away. She had to kill him. Otherwise...

At some point, he grabbed her by the neck, his fingers wrapping around the part of her throat not covered by the collar. She let out a noise, half-wheezing, half-squeaking, as she tried to break free.

Somewhere in there, she fell backward. She didn't know whether Sandy had pushed her or she pushed herself back.

She collided with one of the unturned tubs in the room, the breath knocked out of her.
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The cold water hit with what felt like the force of a brick wall. Nancy instinctively squeezed her eyes shut. She swallowed a bit of water, and the taste in her mouth was somehow the most unpleasant thing about this whole experience.

She struggled, her hands gripping the lip of the tub, trying to get her head back above the water. There was bit of give, but it wasn't enough, and her head stayed below the water. Her lungs were burning, now, and she pushed furiously, but she was too tired, and everything hurt too much.

Those few seconds felt like hours, until her lungs felt like they were about to burst. She couldn't stop herself from opening her mouth and letting a bit of water enter her lungs. She coughed and sputtered, sending air bubbles floating to the surface and dirtying the water further with her bile.

Her hands moved, then, flailing wildly, trying to get some sort of leverage, some advantage she could use to free herself.

But it accomplished nothing.
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Nancy was going to die a failure. She killed two people, and then just died on the second day. She felt pathetic. Even as she struggled, there was that unpleasant truth coming into her mind as she slowly lost consciousness.

Her flailing became weaker. Was there a point to it? She...

It would probably be better to just... let go. To die on day two.

To be forgotten. What a fucking failure.

Nancy's arms stopped flailing, and she let them drop to her side.





















Her hand bumped something at her waist.

Clarity returned for just a second. A second was enough. In one swift motion, with the last of her strength, as her mind screamed in agony, she pulled the screwdriver from its place in her skirt and stabbed it in Sandy's direction as hard as she could.
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She felt the implement connect. With what, she wasn't sure. But it was something.

She felt his hands releasing her, and she pulled herself out of the water, coughing and sputtering and gasping and panting and she turned around, leaning against the tub. She was seeing bright spots in her vision, and she swore she felt the room spinning. She felt the bile rising again, but she forced it down.

Sandy was still there. She was so focused on living that she didn't even realize that the stab probably wasn't fatal. He was still there, still alive, hurt but not incapacitated. Time slowed down for a few seconds as she stared at Sandy.

It caught back up as he lunged at her again. She gripped the screwdriver, and with one final shriek of anger, she thrust it upward.
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