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The show starts at five. Bring snacks.; Late afternoon/evening day 6.
Topic Started: Mar 19 2017, 08:33 PM (480 Views)
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((Clarice Halwood continued from All Good Things To Those Who Wait.))

This area smelt of corpses.

Granted, everywhere was starting to stink of death. But, likely due to corpses getting mixed up in the water flooding the place, this area really, really smelt like ass.

Clarice wasn’t sure what she was hoping for. There were maybe some vague ideas in her head that this hospital might have… something, anything… that she could use. It didn’t seem to be much of an idea, but it was all she had to go on. Better to focus on that than get all hopeless. Better to focus on that than on grief when it wouldn’t do her any good.

She didn’t bother to be quiet. There was no way it would work down here, and even if it did… well, if she was seen then that’s how it went.

Clarice wandered down the corridor, and heard splashing ahead of her. So someone else was definitely down here.

She could have run, but… well, fuck it.

“Hellooo?” she called out tentatively. Her voice was a little hoarse. Maybe from yesterday’s smoke.
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Now she was in a… room. There was a chair? Maybe? Clarice couldn’t see shit. If only she had a source of—

“Oh, right.”

Clarice tried to open her bag so she could retrieve her flashlight, having forgotten that she even had one. Her attempt to do so with just her good arm, however, only resulted in her accidentally slipping the strap off her shoulder and letting the bag plop into the disgusting water.

“Fucking bullshit,” she muttered under her breath, crouching down to retrieve it. As she did so, she heard a faint sloshing noise from the path she’d just taken here.

Noise here, noise there. No-one saying anything.

That didn’t sit well. Clarice didn’t end up retrieving her flashlight, only slinging the bag back on her shoulder and continuing to squint in the darkness. If there were people around, not calling out or responding… maybe that meant a trap. She wouldn’t want to shine a light if it was.

Although… she supposed they already knew she was here.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, squinting fruitlessly in the dark. All she could make out was the vague silhouette of that chair.

Which looked a little people shaped, now that she really looked at it.

“Uh. Hi?”
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Oh, and there was a voice behind her. Well, better that than silence.

"Okay, guess if you're talking it's not a trap," Clarice said. "Oh... whoever you are. You and..." Clarice squinted in the darkness. Maybe she had just been talking to a chair.

Clarice reached for her bag, fumbled for a moment and this time managed to retrieve her flashlight. She turned it on with a click.

Guy near chair, as she'd suspected. But forget that.

Other guy. Covered in blood. Holding a gun.

Clarice turned off the flashlight, then in her infinite wisdom threw it at him. Or in his direction, now that they were back on the dark.
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“Uh?”

And… they just left. Well, that was… probably better than the alternative, but now Clarice just felt weird about throwing stuff at him. Maybe he just happened to be splattered in blood—okay no that sounded stupid no matter how she phrased it. Well, good riddance, then.

What wasn’t good riddance, however, was that her flashlight was now somewhere in the water and she had no idea where.

“…Fuck.”

Clarice started sloshing around in the water—which was starting to make her feet feel way too chilly—hoping that she’d bump her flashlight with her foot. It was only then that she realised, oh right, there was another guy in the room with her still. Maybe. She’d kind of lost track through all the other sloshing.

“Hey! Hidey guy, whoever you are! You mind turning on your light or something? I mean, I kinda know you’re there already.”
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Something clunked into Clarice’s skull and there was a brief moment of… not so much pain as slight dizziness and confusion.

Clarice tossed the boot onto the chair the boy had been hiding near. No point in tossing it back into the muck. Then she started tapping her foot around, hoping she’d bump into her flashlight.

Eventually, she did. She fished it out of the water only to discover it didn’t work.

“Fuck’s sake,” she muttered.

She shook the flashlight a bit before eventually tossing it aside. She heard the splash, then started to make her way out. The speck of light from the other boy’s flashlight was long gone. The slight ache to the back of her head was the only sign that anything had happened at all.

((Clarice Halwood continued in Topic Title.))
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