The_Author |
04-21-2008 09:52 AM |
Around midday time, the doors to the bunkers swung open. Some equipment for two more hammocks were thrown into each bunker, along with the bodies of two more contestants. Though shocked by the death of their team mate, the chainsaws managed to lift their spirits. The door to the bunker had opened earlier too. Two men, who were dressed the same as the ones who "kidnapped" the contestants, came and took the body away, though his blood stained hammock remained there.
Most of the people had submitted their entries. Doc faustus was just scribbling things down in the corner, because while he had been using it, the pen had run out, Disease was asleep and nothing seemed to be able to wake him and ferretchucker was insisting to be given his first glass of beer before he did anything.
It was only the next night that things started to go wrong. back in the chainsaw bunker, everybody was weary. Nobody was quite sure if they were safe. Was it another team member who had killed angra? Were they safe? Nobody was sure who to trust and so, they each tried to stay up. But one by one, through boredom and as the night drew on, their eyelids rested, their breathing became more relaxed and they fell asleep.
It was only one who didn't. One who managed to gain the shear will power to stay awake. throughout the day, massacre man had remained mainly quiet. He had been running things over in his mind, wroking things out. As he lay there in darkness amongst his comrades, he made up his mind. He wasn't crazy. He hadn't imagined things and he hadn't been dreaming. He could barely remember the events of the night before but he knew they needed to know.
He was about to get up, when something came over him. A tingle on the back of his neck as the hairs rose. A shiver up his spine and pins and needles in his foot. He tried to get out of his bed, but he couldn't. Once again, he was paralysed. He thought back to dinner. They had found cans of soup in tins and had eaten them. He knew they looked out of date! But then, what about the team mates looking at him. They were smug looks. Looks you give someone when you've put gum on their seat at school or stolen their cell phone.
it was only then that he looked at the door. It was open and there was a shape there. The same shape as the night before! He was going to die. Just like angra! He was going to be gone, just like that. Nobody would know. The shape came towards it. He noticed a tube in it's hand. It took him a minute to realise but he also had something in his hand. Something in the skin. From the light of the moon shining through the door he saw it. A dart! That's why he couldn't move!
The shape came ever closer. It pulled something out of it's pocket. It resembled a syringe but - IT WAS A SYRINGE! He tried to call out. Maybe he could make a sound. Maybe just a small murmer. Maybe somebody else was awake. Would they survive like he did last night? Would they tell the others what had happened, to look out for the shape. hecouldn't die! Not like this. Not without a fight. The shape was infront of him. It bent down and pressed a finger to it's lips. He could sense it was smiling. In a swift moment, it lifted the syringe high and brought it back down. Right into his neck. He felt some pain, then everything was calm. There was no shape. There never had been. No pain. No fear. No contest. Just him. just him in a state of happyness. he hadn't been truly happy like this, not as far back as he could remember. Things were calm. Things were nice. But little did he know, or any other contestants, things were going to take a turn for the worst...
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