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Wandering around in suburbs (3rd section on map) (CLOSED) [28 Nov 2005|12:10am]

Now was not the time for a slow leisurely pace as Collector stalked across the pavement and retraced the footsteps of Peter Sullivan. The object of his original search was the key which, according the guardian Jeryline, was missing. He knew that wasn't true. Not really, Jeryline was the guardian. She and the key would be naturally drawn to one another and wherever she was, the key would soon turn up. He just had to keep her alive long enough to do that. It's not the only reason I want her alive, he admitted. Collector had always had a soft spot for the ladies and it had been a long while since the guardian had been a woman. Jeryline had also outsmarted him which was not an easy thing to do. Made it all the more fun to hunt after her but he was also starting to get sick of this shit. I've spent too many centuries chasing after that damn key. To have come so close and to lose so easily. Frustrated didn't begin to describe how he felt.

Think positive. I know where she's to now. I can find her and finish this mess. It wasn't long till he was past the library and headed toward the series of houses behind. He stopped then and swore again. Peter's memories had a white house in them but once Collector had reached the near by area he saw a few white houses. "You gotta be fu--...Son of b--...you know what, fine! Make everything difficult God. Still gonna lose", he grumbled as he moved closer toward the houses when he noticed one of the doors was swinging open. "Well that's odd". He frowned as he moved forward when he felt a familiar presence. The blood of the key. "She's found it", he said as he moved across the lawn. This house, this house has been or was sealed with the blood. He looked up at the two story white house. To the naked and unknowing eye, the place looked normal but to Collector there was a reddish haze around it with large gaping holes. The seal had been placed but it had been broken. Puzzled, Collector made his way to the front door carefully with his eyes peeled for any sign of life.

[Open to anyone who wants to join Collector]
10 deaths| why won't they die ?

Sarah's nightmare{{{CLOSED}}} [26 Nov 2005|01:24am]

Darkness was all that Sarah experienced at first but that darkness shifted once her mind was sucked into the dream realm. Sarah opened her eyes to find herself in her bedroom back in Los Angeles and sat up quickly on the bed in her pajama's. Was it all a dream ? Fair Haven ? The people, the fear, all of it ? At this point, sitting safe and secure in her bedroom again, Sarah believed that it was. "It wasn't real", she said softly as she looked about at the familiar surroundings and felt relief. She laughed to herself and pushed the blankets off as she climbed out of the bed. "Just a dream". Then Sarah stopped. But why had she dreamt such a thing ? Was this more of Nancy's tricks, like those other nightmares and illusions ? And what about Nancy and the fight, had that even happened ? An uncertain frown crossed Sarah's face as she moved about the bedroom which seemed so real in her mind.

Sarah made her way to the small bathroom adjacent to her room. What I need to do is wash may face, some cold water will wake me up and then maybe I can remember what happened. Terra cotta tiles and yellow walls, a familiar sight that just added to Sarah's feelings of relief and belief that she was truly home. Turning on the taps and splashing water onto her face, Sarah had the odd feeling of being watched and glanced up suddenly to look in the mirror. All she saw there was her own reflection. Startled green eyes, chestnut brown hair and freckles on a pale skin. The spit of her mother Sarah's father often said. She sighed, "You're acting paranoid Sarah". A sudden movement at the sink grabbed her attention and Sarah looked down with horror to see a snake coming out of the tap. Slithering, green scaly body poked out. It hissed at her as Sarah jumped back with a startled gasp. "No!" She glanced at the bathtub, snakes crawling out of the tap and filling up the cool porcelain tub. "No!" she shrieked, jerking backwards and moving toward the door and out of the bathroom. Sarah ran out of the room and into the upstairs hallway, "Dad! Jenny!"

[Open to Freddy]
10 deaths| why won't they die ?

Briar Cliff: Upstairs {{{CLOSED}}} [22 Nov 2005|11:48pm]

"Tired, maybe drying off would be a good idea"

Mary had quickly released her hold on Sarah's arm as the lady gave a nervous jump. Perhaps Mary had overstepped her boundaries, perhaps Sarah preferred not to be touched. These thoughts vanished though at the brunettes words, showing Mary that Sarah had just been startled and was not rejecting any physical signs of compassion. Placing a hand gently on Sarah's lower back Mary led her towards the stairs.

"Excuse us," she nodded politely to the others who were now surrounding the man on the floor. Sarah was her friend though and Mary had to look after her first. Friend. Yes, it was nice to have one. If Peter had been in need she would have helped him as well.

Sarah's black sweater was wet and squelchy under Mary's hand, and for a moment Mary had a fear of the lady catching a bad humor. She berated herself for her foolishness. Hadn't Doctor Jeckyll's books dismissed such ideas ? There were no humors just contagion which entered through the bodies orifice's.

"Should change"

"W-we'll find a suitable room for you," Mary nodded. The lady was clearly exhausted and needed to rest. Mary would see to Sarah's needs and then, once she was abed, take care of herself. She had already slept--albeit in odd circumstances--and had eaten a fine breakfast. As they reached the second level of the manor and began their walk down the hallway, Mary took note of an open door which revealed a room with what looked to be a large, foot-less bath tub. There should be towels in there.

As other occupants of Briar Cliff had seen before, the house had a way of changing bedrooms to suit a person's needs, and as Mary opened one door for Sarah she didn't recognize the modern style that her twentieth century friend would find very familiar. With slightly furrowed brows Mary once again took in Sarah's tired stance. The poor woman still had that book of hers concealed under her clothes.

"Perhaps you would c-change M--Sarah," Mary stopped herself, though it was so easy to return to titles, to distance herself from the others. She didn't want to with Sarah, Mary could admit to herself. She wanted Sarah's friendship more than that. "I'll fetch some things from the wash closet, it won't take a minute."

[OPEN TO: Sarah and anyone else who comes upstairs in Briar Cliff]
17 deaths| why won't they die ?

Wandering around town ((CLOSED)) [16 Nov 2005|10:23pm]


It was raining once Nancy started moving away from the church. Not a tropical downpour or anything but she was gonna get soaked. "Cause that's all I fucking need", she grumbled but the dark haired girl didn't let it stop her leaving the church yard. A desperate desire to get away from the hollowed ground filled her, pulled at her and caused Nancy to want to get away. Maybe it was the black magic or maybe it was her own guilt but either way, she couldn't stay in that fucking church. With quick strides Nancy soon found herself on one of the roads in town again, a little way ahead she could see the park to one side and houses to the other.

She wasn't suppose to feel guilt her mind told her. Earlier she had reveled in telling the others about what she had done, the few people she had killed and here Nancy was feeling guilty. Not only that, she also felt drained. Can't believe this. Standing there for a few minutes, Nancy looked up and let the rain hit her face. What was she gonna do now ? The teenager didn't have a clue, completely unprepared for the change her life had taken in dropping her in the middle on nowhere in this goddamn town. No one was prepared for this, not one person you met today knew this was gonna happen. No one fucking planned to come here so what the hell makes you any different ? Stop standing here in the rain like a wimp

Hugging herself, Nancy resumed walking. No clue of where she was going she decided to head to the houses on her right.Looks like a subdivision. She shrugged and headed toward one of the house, cutting across the pavement toward the bright green lawn. What was it about rainy days that made the grass look so green ? Scowling as she looked down the road at all the other houses, this place looked like the ideal middle class American suburbs where all the happy families lived with 2.5 whatever kids and dogs. "White picket fences my ass", she muttered as she looked at the manicured lawns. A small little two story house stood in front of her but she hesitated to go any closer. Oh you suddenly developed a conscious, well that's great. That'll really help you out Nancy, a sarcastic voice sneered in her thoughts. Gritting her teeth, Nancy was about to step forward when she felt a hand on her shoulder and spun around to see Isaiah behind.

"J-- " she stopped herself from swearing when she met his eyes but Nancy continued to glare at him, rain dripping down her face and smearing her dark make-up. "What are you doing here ? Thought you'd stayed in the church with Miss innocent and that bearded perv".

{Open to Isaiah and anyone else who wants to join the two}
43 deaths| why won't they die ?

In The Mall *****CLOSED**** [15 Nov 2005|04:44pm]

Ginger had been feeling pretty annoyed when she entered the grocery store. Who the fuck did that suit think he was, trying to say that she and B needed new clothes and that he would help pick some out for them ?!

Sick. Fucking sick was what it was.

She had lost sight of B, choosing to walk down an aisle separate from the others. Looking at Zelda and Sarah was beginning to give her an ice cream headache, and she had nothing to say to Norman. If B wanted to hang out with Mr. Nobody it was her own fucking choice. If he rapes you don't come crying to me.

Her arm ached from where B had stabbed her with the needle, injecting her with that purple shit. Ginger rubbed her left arm through her tan trench coat with a wince. Monkshood. Whatever. There's no fucking cure for what we have B! And if there was why would you want it? Lines of soup cans passed her vision as she felt a growl reverberate in her throat. Yeah Ginger was good at lying to herself. She had to focus on the strength, had to focus on the domination. The pain was too much to think about. Ginger had said no, she had told B she didn't want the needle, and B had injected her anyway.
Why did I let her, why didn't I fight back?.......Cause you were too fucking scared you damn weakling! her mind roared back. Ginger scowled, kicking a pile of paper towels.

But how had Brigitte become so strong?

[OPEN TO: Katie and anyone who enters the mall.]
11 deaths| why won't they die ?

Briar Cliff Manor: Downstairs ((CLOSED)) [14 Nov 2005|11:56pm]

Willard had been surprised to find the two blonds, Sunny and Lenore to be the ones he had heard. He was more upset at the mention of the attic that the two had been in. An attic?, he wondered. Of course, that made sense. The footsteps he had heard had been above him and he was on the second floor, where else could they have been ? It was just a coincidence, he told himself. Just because you had a dream about fathers...fathers accident and they were in the attic, means nothing. He didn't believe that for a moment and felt a little sick as he thought about. Sunny was asking about his hand then which broke Willard out of his thoughts.

"My..my hand is fine", he muttered as he spared a glance for his bandaged hands. "The cuts were not too deep", but then he remembered Dorothy. "Was Dorothy with you in the attic ?" he asked the pair who both gave the negative as they began to walk down the stairs. Sunny moving first with Willard while Lenore followed behind. The trio re-entered the red atrium, the rain beating off the glass of the windows. "Oh, it's..it's daylight", Willard murmured. Through the windows the sky appeared grey and stormy looking, an omen of another unpleasant day ahead. I was hoping I would wake up...no. That's insane. I don't really want to go back to the asylum, Willard thought as he reached the bottom of the stairs. Oh but do you really want to stay here either ?, his mind shot back at him. No.. Then Willard saw it. Another body lying on the hardwood floor that he and many others had awoken to find themselves on. "Another one. He wasn't here when I went upstairs".

Willard moved off the stair case cautiously, thankful that the lights were still on. Even though it was daylight, the grey, cloudy sky brought little light into the floor. In fact, if it hadn't been for the electric light, Willard probably wouldn't have seen the young man on the floor. He looked over his shoulder, back at Sunny and Lenore. "Do either of you know him ?"

[Open to anyone in, coming into or waking up in Briar Cliff]
70 deaths| why won't they die ?

In the forest between Briar Cliff and cemetery ((CLOSED)) [08 Nov 2005|12:45am]

The dawn crept slowly upon the town of Fair Haven but in the forest where Brigitte Fitzgerald ran though the trees the darkness clung beneath the canopy of forest. She had been running blindly for a while now, quickly making her way from the manor, painfully aware of the danger she presented to those inside. The feeling of the branches brushing roughly on her skin, the rough, root covered ground beneath her feet, she was aware of it all around her. Sounds, smell, even the air tasted sweet. Things were changing and she was losing control. No! she shouted at herself, that singular voice catching her off guard and causing her to trip over a root. She hit the dirt face first, knocking the wind out of her body. Laying there for a few moments, the panting was deafening to her ears.

Smell was the sense Brigitte had noticed improving the most when she first infected herself. Tonight however, or this morning one should say, they were all getting stronger. Her hearing. Did her heart really sound like that, a rapid pounding ? The air over her skin, the hairs on her body lifting at the slight breeze that caressed her where she lay. No! The voice again, screaming out from inside. This isn't happening, you can't let this happen! It was Brigitte, screaming at herself. Can't stop it another voice growled back. It was deep and frightening. It's time.

Brigitte rolled over on her back, her heart was pounding so hard and fast she felt as though her chest would explore from the pressure. Something was happening to her body, she knew it but she couldn't stop it. She shivered as she stared up through the trees, the forest floor was cold and hard on her back. No more stars, she noted numbly as she started to shake. Get up! Get up and move you idiot! Brigitte managed to push herself up. Don't just lie there!
5 deaths| why won't they die ?

Leaving the White House/ Heading to the Library [07 Nov 2005|02:58pm]

"We gotta get outta here. Come on Shaun"

Shaun followed Jeryline out of the house and into the front yard where she had words with Mina. They were too hushed for him to hear but he wondered why the woman would blame someone who looked as harmless as Mina. How could she have done anything as vile as the act they had seen performed to the blond woman who lay in that study bloodied and bereft of life. The woman had been massacred and who ever had done such a thing would be covered in blood, but Mina had not a drop on her and she could not have been the one to do such a thing in Shaun's opinion. He had been wrong about things before though.

"It would not be good to interrupt"

Shaun nodded as he watched their lips lips move without hearing any words from form in their voices. "We found a woman basically slaughtered in there," he said to the man before looking to the ground and kicking it as he thought about what he had just seen. Sure he had seen gruesome things done by what he saw as beasts that were once human. This was done to a human by a human though. It had to have been done by a human there was no other way to explain it.

"Shaun? Would you mind telling me more about this Z-Day of yours ? Do you know how it originated, where the disease of...of zombies came from?"

Shaun looked at the woman and puzzled for a moment. Disease? he thought. It is a disease isn't it.

"It is a disease ? It is not something one catches easily, is it ?"

"Yes, it's a disease. One that can be caught quite easily. One single bite and it only takes mere hours to take it's toll on you. One small bite and you turn to one of them. My flatmate was bitten one night and by morning he was one of those things." He continued to speak as they began to walk away from the house and the horrors they had found inside of it.

"My mother," he said in almost a whisper. "My mother was bitten and in just a few short hours she was one of those things." He swallowed hard at the thought of his mother with those cold dead eyes and what he had to do to her.

"No one yet knows for sure what happened to cause this thing but everyone has their own ideas of what it was. I myself though have formed no opinion. I just know it is like a horrible plague, but we persevere and have become well adjusted keeping the remaining few of these creatures to do menial jobs that are undesired by most."

[Open to: Jeryline, Warlock, Mina, and John Constantine, and anyone else who decideds to join us on our aimless journey.]
29 deaths| why won't they die ?

Heading back to Briar Cliff ((CLOSED)) [07 Nov 2005|12:00am]

Peter was flushed with anger as he stumbled out through the bar door with Mary in tow while Seamus followed quick at their heels. The night sky had begun to lighten though the clouds now concealed the stars and moon Peter had seen earlier. Once he was out on the pavement Peter turned to glare at his friend who returned that glare with his steady blue looking back into Peter's brown ones. "Seamus", he started though Peter didn't know what to say first as so much was going on in his mind. The turmoil that Collector had caused was starting to repair itself but the shock of seeing Seamus here had through Peter for a loop. Seamus' behavior in the bar hadn't helped either.

"I'm not drunk", he wanted to make that clear first. Yes, Peter had a few sips of Scotch back at that house earlier but he did not drink enough to truly affect him, not with the tolerance he had spent the last year building up. "Second, I want you to apologize to Mary", he continued but that just caused Seamus to laugh, a sharp, humorless sound. "Seamus, she was just trying to help. And how did you get here ?" Peter finished, his voice as confused as his expression.

"How long have you been here ? Did you wake up in the house ?" As Peter listened to Seamus answer his eyes kept going to the door of the bar, waiting for Sarah. After finding the young girl again Peter was not going to be leaving her in a bar, not after all that had happened to her. When she didn't come out right away, Peter made a move to go back in and received a hard shove on the chest from Seamus causing him to backpedal. "Seamus, will you stop it ? I was just going to make sure Sarah is coming with us". Seamus' glare did not lighten at all. "Will you stop thinking the worst ? Is that all you're going to do from now on ? Think the worst of me ?" Peter exclaimed in frustrated manner. He saw the words hit Seamus and knew his friend well enough to see the flicker of emotion behind those eyes even if his expression remained stern. "Seamus, I'm telling the truth", Peter said to his friend in a calm voice.

[Open to Mary, Seamus, Sarah and anyone else heading back to Briar Cliff Manor]
20 deaths| why won't they die ?

Heading to Raven's Hollow / Inside Raven's Hollow (CLOSED) [06 Nov 2005|01:30pm]

Patrick felt sick, physically and emotionally sick. He wasn't feeling guilty about killing that woman, but rather he was feeling paranoid that he was going to be caught. Why shouldn't he be caught? Didn't he leave enough clues? Wouldn't he be found out instantly? He thought about what he was doing now, he was escaping. Wouldn't that be seen as something? Running away from the scene of the crime?! I shouldn't have left, I should have faced facts, but no, I had to run, now what?! NOW WHAT?!

He was sweating profusely, mostly from his own thinking rather than his outright run towards the path leading to Raven's Hallow, only briefly staring at the trees as he runs. In his hurry, he had even tripped to fall in the mud. It was enough to stop his mind as he looked down at his suit. His hands wrapped around the material as it looked like he was going to have a nervous breakdown because of it. The vein in his neck jutted out as he felt absolute irrational anger run through his body. He tore at the material until he felt something rip -- mentally and physically, he felt the need to kill. However, the only person around at the time is Norman. His hands twitched at the thought, fingers shaking as he tried to regain control of himself and failing.

A twig snapped as some rustling was heard. A creature wandered into the path. It was hard to tell what it was, but it was humanoid in shape. Its head snapped in direction of Norman and Patrick, mouth agape as it headed towards them. Patrick hardly thought about what he was doing before he got to his feet. Calmly brushing off the dirt and grim as the creature headed towards him. It was his firm belief that he was suffering a state of temporary insanity from his actual insanity. The creature in front of him was some sort of mental image of his own design. Perhaps his own mental image. Hardly there, rotting on the outside and in. He hated it.

Snapping its mouth in his direction, hands outstretched towards them, he cracked his fist across the creature's head, snapping the jawbone with the hit. He did know a thing or two about boxing. And he saw that his hand was cut from hitting it in the face. The creature hardly seemed dazed as the jawbone was at a different angle as before, still trying to head towards them, still trying to bite with its dislocated jaw. Patrick could hardly think as he cracked the creature across the face again, grabbing onto its arm before throwing it into the tree at the side. His and still held onto the arm as he twisted and pulled -- dislocating that limb. His other hand went out to grab onto the creature's head, beating it into the tree repeatedly with as much strength as he could muster. He could hear the bone breaking, the gushy insides spilling out across the tree trunk, but he didn't stop until he could feel the cracks of the skull around his hand.

Pulling back, he looked over towards Norman, unsure what image he must of saw before starting to head towards Raven's Hallow again, muttering softly to himself as though nothing had happened. His suit was horribly ruined now, his hands covered in the gunk of whatever that creature was. He felt sick. He did indeed feel the need to vomit, if only because his entire outer image -- the only substance he really had -- was tarnished. But he would press on. He wouldn't curl into a little ball on the ground. If anything, it would ruin his suit even more. Once he got to Raven's Hollow, he could take a nice shower. That was really the only rational thought left in his head.

(OPEN TO: Norman, Mahette, Freddy, John [Jigsaw] and anyone else who shows up at Raven's Hollow)
41 deaths| why won't they die ?

Leaving Raven's Hollow/ Entering the town {{{CLOSED}}} [04 Nov 2005|07:53pm]

Eva stormed out of the lofty house still slightly put off by her meeting with the burnt man and gravel-voiced french woman. How dare that crazed woman say such things to her. But then again she was crazy. Eva was not completely stable but in her two centuries on the planet she had taken good measures to disguise her own mental state from others. She was always ready to crack at any moment though and tittered on the edge of a sharpened knife.

She stepped on the loose gravel lightly as she slinked through the darkness and made her way to the town below. Each time her feet slipped on the gravel slightly almost bringing her down a few times as she made her way. The shoes were a little too big but she would make due with them as she had no other shoes to wear through the town.

Her jeans dragged on the ground as she kicked a few pebbles away from her as she shoved her hands in her pockets. The lights of the town were closing in and she would soon venture through looking for the others that Freddy had mentioned and possibley a new pair of shoes.

In the chruch {{CLOSED}} [02 Nov 2005|01:28am]

The dark streets lay ahead of Dorothy as she fled from the bar, her cheeks burning with shame at being near such a place and knowing what her Mama would say. She won't know, she doesn't have to know, the slender girl repeated as in her mind as she ran, darting around the corner of the building. She didn't have a clue where she was running as she moved past the park but there it was, the street lights shining against the white outside. A church! A church is safe, Mama won't be mad if I go into a church.

If Dorothy had any idea of what happened in the church earlier, if she had seen the body of the young woman on the ground, she would've never entered such a place. But the girl didn't know and the mix of darkness from the early morning with her bad eyesight prevented the girl from seeing the body as she approached the church and headed toward the wooden doors.

Inside the church was even darker as Dorothy stumbled through the doors, tripping over the threshold. The only bit of light came through the door, from the street lights outside but that disappeared when the door closed behind her with a resounding thud. Oh dear, she thought as she stumbled in further, smacking into a statue to one side but she didn't damage the heavy marble. She felt the walls for a light switch but had trouble in the dark. She finally found a dimmer switch that turned on the lamps by the altar. It was still rather dark but at least the little light helped Dorothy move around with out smacking into anything else.She moved up the middle aisle and headed toward the altar where she saw church organ then, up to far right of the altar, a red tinted lamp next to it. Walking slowly, Dorothy moved closer hesitantly. She use to play the organ at her own church, before she went off to university, it was the only thing her mother was ever proud of. Oh yes, my daughter plays at the church. Father Greyner always goes on about how talented Dorothy is, she remembered Mama bragging to other women in the town.

Studying the organ, Dorothy smiled down at the ivory keys as her hand moved out to brush them lightly with her finger tips. She bit her lips and pushed down to hear a resounding note echo through out the building. Is it in tune ? she wondered as the temptation to touch the other keys came to her. Music was her gift, her comfort in the hardest times so it was natural for Dorothy to want to touch the keys, to play the notes. It can't...I mean, it couldn't hurt, right? No one is here to mind.

Dorothy sat down on the bench and placed her fingers slowly on the cool ivory before she pushed down gently on another, moving her fingers along to test the notes. Seems fine, she smiled as she returned her hands to where they started on the keys. She began to play then, a hymn drifted out of the organ, the music filling the church as she played In the garden. I come to the garden alone,while the dew is still on the roses; and the voice I hear, falling on my ear, the Son of God discloses... she sang in her mind as she played.

[Open to Isaiah, Caleb and Nancy]
33 deaths| why won't they die ?

Briar Cliff : Downstairs ---{{CLOSED}}--- [28 Oct 2005|12:28am]

Moving down the stairs quickly and as quietly as possible, Brigitte took Nicholas' advice about finding somewhere more private. Once again, the pair of werewolves were in the atrium where Brigitte had woken up nearly 24 hours ago and Nicholas had found himself only a while ago. The red room wasn't private enough though as Brigitte moved through it. She did have a place in mind and it wasn't long till she had led them back to the small library where she had been this morning. Flicking on the light switch as she entered the room, she blinked for a few seconds as her eyes adjusted to the light. The same pale spring green walls filled her vision as she moved into the room. The dust which had covered the furniture was displaced now and more books were moved about, evidence that others had been in the room since Brigitte this morning.

I can't believe it was only this morning I woke up here, Brigitte thought as she looked out the darkened bay window. She turned and faced Nicholas. For a few seconds she stood silent as she thought about what to say next, the fact was that she needed help but she hated that it was him she was asking. The last encounters Brigitte had with another of her kind was back in the clinic when a male wolf chased after her and Ghost, just after it had killed Beth Ann. It didn't make her inclined to trust another werewolf.

"Alright, you said there was a way to control...this", she snarled, gesturing at herself. "Back in the atrium earlier". Brigitte looked down at her clawed hand. "Well, how ? How do I stop myself from killing anyone huh ?" Her voice was angry as she looked down and gritted her teeth. "There has to be a way to stop this", she said to him. Nicholas closed the door behind them and looked at Brigitte silently, pity in his eyes. "Oh don't give me that shit about letting nature run it's course", she snapped as she began pacing. "This isn't fucking natural, people aren't suppose to turn into monsters".

[Open to Nicholas, and anyone else who comes downstairs or enters Briar Cliff]
25 deaths| why won't they die ?

Outside of Briar Cliff and heading into town----Closed----- [21 Oct 2005|12:19pm]

Cold moonlight and the silhouette of the forest greeted Seamus as he stepped out of the manor, scattered stars above him in the night sky. His blue eyes examined the scene ahead of him before he moved down the steps of the house. Twenty years of dealing with the supernatural had taught the older man some hard life lessons, one of which was to always be cautious when heading off into the unknown. However, the coast seemed clear from his standpoint so he continued on. Whatta ya know, Casper was right, he thought as he saw the road up ahead. Footsteps behind him first alerted Seamus to the presence of the others and turning, he saw Mike and Jen following him. Think they would've had better sense, he sighed inwardly. Seamus stopped and waited for them to catch up since it was clear why they had followed him; No doubt they wanted to get to town as eagerly as he did. They weren't the only ones it seemed as another figure exited the house after them, moving quickly to catch up when he recognized Dorothy behind them.

Seamus pursed his lips, it was clear he was in for a spot of babysitting as far as the older man was concerned, a task he did not relish. Oh to hell with it, they're better walking with you then they are by themselves, his conscious declared. Tilting his head upward to look at the stars, he exhaled, "Lord give me strength", he muttered under his breath. Once they had caught up to him, Seamus looked at them straight on and got down to business. "Alright, so we're all heading into town ? Fine". His tone was serious and authoritative as he continued on. "But we stick together, no lagging behind, and everyone keeps their eyes and ears open, alright ?" God knows what's in this place so it's best to keep our wits about us, he added silently.

Seamus turned then and headed toward the road. He'd never deny that he was a bossy S.O.B, he prided himself on it. It was for their own safety and while he may not like having to look out for this lot, he would. Only problem was, were these kids really better off with him ? Hard to tell, trouble often followed Seamus around, came with the role he had taken on in his life. Well, this should be a barrel of laughs.

{Open to Jen, Mike, and Dorothy}
16 deaths| why won't they die ?

Leaving Raven's hollow / Wandering into town {{CLOSED}} [19 Oct 2005|08:01pm]

Isaiah heard the footsteps running after him and thinking it was Freddy, he spun to face the other man but instead found Caleb coming toward him. The sneering look that the man had on his face was long gone as he made his way up to Isaiah who stood on the gravel beginnings of the path into town.

"What the hell was that?!"

"Damned if I know", Isaiah muttered, shaking his head, black dreadlocks moving with the motion. "Damned if I want to know", he added as he stared back at the black painted house. None of the others had run out which surprised Isaiah. Wouldn't have been able to pay him enough to stay in there. "Where's Mahette ?" he muttered but Caleb just gave him a look. "Right, fuck it. She stayed. I say we get the hell outta here". Caleb nodded at that and the two started their way down the road in silence for the first while. Silence never usually bothered Isaiah, he was a quiet man but after that incident in the house the eerie silence bothered him. "It wasn't real, couldn't have been", he muttered out loud. "Some sort of trick, like they do in the movies or something". Reassured, his heart began to slow down and his insides settled.

After a moment he spoke up again. "He said there were others in this town..." he murmured as he silently wondered what these 'others' were like and hoped that they bore little to no resemblance to Freddy. "Gotta be someone here who's got more answers than Fred, not to mention isn't mad as a loon". Isaiah still couldn't get over it. "How could he do that to himself ?" he mused out loud as he looked around the dark forest that surrounded the road. A full moon was still hanging in the sky, its pale glow lighting the path dimly and casting sinister looking shadows on the ground. Isaiah longed for the streets of London, to be in his usual urban hunting ground.

{Edit-Open to Caleb and Nancy}
20 deaths| why won't they die ?

Outside of the Church and Wandering Around ((((((((CLOSED)))))))) [13 Oct 2005|09:24pm]

Anezka felt John helping her up but she could not answer him. If she had been able to answer him she would have screamed that something was wrong that she was not the only one in her mind. She was not the one controlling her body.

"I'm fine," the words spilled out of her mouth but she was not the one who said them. Panic took over and Anezka began to fight. She kicked and screamed and punched her way around but nothing registered on the outside and before long she was thrown back. It felt like she was being thrown against a wall but it was only her mind, no it was her soul. It was her soul that was getting pushed around by this brutal force inside of her.

She could feel herself smile at the man in front of her and once again she spoke with no control. "I'm just fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me. It's no big deal, really."

She began to weep and there was nothing Anezka could do. She tried and tried everything she could think of but it was too much. It was too hard to continue trying anything and she finally let go and became submissive to this force inside of her. There really was nothing she could do any more, except maybe let the entity take over and she was prepared to do so.

She watched as her eyes glanced down at John's arm and grabbed on to it. "I don't want to get left behind," her voice sounded out and she knew that this force was making her smile sweetly at the man. Anezka used that smile often but she never would imagine another to use it. "We should get away from here before something else happens."

{Open to John.}
3 deaths| why won't they die ?

Briar Cliff Manor: Upstairs --{{CLOSED}}-- [13 Oct 2005|12:33am]

Willard allowed Dorothy to pull him along as the two left the kitchen and turned down another hallway to the left and because of this they had not run into the twin siblings who were making their way to the kitchen. No, neither Dorothy or Willard were aware of them as they headed down the long dark hallway in search of a bathroom for Willard to clean his cut hand. There were bathrooms on the main floor of the house but the pair hadn't been able to find them. Instead they stumbled upon an stair case at the end of the hallway and made their way up it silently.

Willard really wasn't in the mood to talk as the two moved upstairs and found themselves in yet another hallway. His mind was still reeling from the shock of Zelda's death as he remembered her from this morning. Young, friendly, a little strange yes but then who here wasn't ? Why would anyone want to hurt her ? Willard didn't know the answer and couldn't comprehend it. Yes, he had set the rats upon Mr. Martin but that was justified in his mind. Mr. Martin was a bastard who deserved it. Socrates moved on his shoulder and his neck in a reassuring manner. I still have you, he thought as Dorothy opened one door and led him into a rather large bathroom.

Staring at the rich yellow walls in a dazed manner Willard found himself being lead to a pristine white sink set into a counter top and watched as Dorothy turned on the taps. Willard placed his hands underneath the running water, washing away the blood from the cut. He was lucky there didn't seem to be any glass in the wound and that it wasn't as deep as he thought.

While he did this Dorothy moved to a cabinet on the opposite side of the room and grabbed a box of bandages, bringing them over to Willard. "Oh..uh...thank you", he mumbled as he grabbed a towel to dry off his hands before putting on a few large bandages. "They..the cuts weren't too bad", he muttered to the girl, glancing at her face before returning his eyes to his hands. "T..thank you, for helping me".

[Open to Dorothy and anyone in the house who goes upstairs]
38 deaths| why won't they die ?

Wandering the town/ Entering the hospital (((CLOSED))) [09 Oct 2005|05:13pm]

Silence surrounded Charlie as she made her way from the house in the suburbs and along the darkened street, back toward the center of town. The night air was chilly, causing Charlie to shiver as she zippered up the grey hooded sweater she had taken from the house. Her hair was still wet from the shower she had taken earlier to wash off the ashes so the young redheaded woman reached back and pulled the hood up as she walked. Charlie's eyes scanned the road nervously for any signs of life or movement, just in case there were anymore of those...things she had seen in the park earlier. Maybe leaving the house had been a bad idea but Charlie just couldn't stay there, knowing what sort of threat she was to those people. Not to mention what they saw me do, she thought as she hurried along.

Cutting through am alley way between two buildings, Charlie moved quickly as she tried not to think. Where are you going ? Do you even know that ? her mind demanded to know. Charlie didn't have a clue. Maybe one of these buildings.. she started in response but stopped once she came out of the alley and saw where she was. Charlie was back in front of the library again.

"No.." she muttered, turning away quickly from that horrible building. She couldn't go in there, not after Johnny. Rushing away from the building, Charlie's mind wouldn't let up. Okay, you can't go there, so where are you going to go ? The bar again ? Maybe another run in with Freddy, make some new friends, that worked out real well last time, didn't it ? the voice taunted.

Shut up! Charlie ordered, she was in front of the park now, where she had encountered Val, Jeryline, Mary and the vampires earlier. The area seemed quiet now, peaceful even which was why Charlie let down her guard and sat on a near by bench just outside the park, still on the street. Placing her elbows on her knees, Charlie put her head down in her hands, rubbing her forehead. She just needed a moment to stop, to think about what do next. The pyro-kinetic girl wasn't frighten of those creatures right now anyway, she had already proved she could handle them. Right now, Charlie was more afraid of the monsters on the inside than the ones on the outside.

[EDIT--OPEN TO: Ash, Rain and May and anyone who wants to come into the hospital]
41 deaths| why won't they die ?

Nightsounds, a.k.a.The Bar ((CLOSED)) [09 Oct 2005|04:23pm]

Collector sat upon the bar stool and considered answering Shaun's question. What category do I fall into ? Oh Shaun my boy, I'm one of the worst, the demon thought arrogantly with that same smirk still on his face. But you don't need to know that, now do you ? Collector was interested though to hear more about Shaun's dealings with the living dead when two more chaps joined them in the bar. Eye balling the two, he had turned on the stool to face them. The older man appeared more on the silent, serious side but that could be misleading while the younger one with glasses seemed more jittery as he asked Shaun to get him a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

"Do I look like I work here? Does anyone look like they work in this fucking place. It's deserted. And you can get your own fucking drink mate."

Collector chuckled at Shaun's indignant reply. "You'll have to excuse my friend here, Shaun's had a rough night", he murmured in his smooth voice as he got up smoothly. "Whiskey eh ? Any particular kind ? Canadian Rye , Kentucky sipping, or is it just any shit that'll fuck you up ?" He asked in a laughing tone as he went behind the bar and retrieved one bottle of Jack Daniel's along with two glasses. Coming back around the bar toward the jittery young man, laying the bottle and glasses down in front of him on the bar. "Here ya go. I'm normally not so accommodating especially since I don't work here either but you boys look like you've had a rough night too". He glanced at Seth then before nodding to a near by table. "Why don't you take a seat, take a load off...both of you", he added in his smooth, friendly tone, glancing at Richie. "Me and Shaun here were just discussing the strange way we woke up here, without a clue in the world. I assume you gentlemen are in the same situation".

He paused, watching the tow men for a second before he spoke up again. "Oh I'm being a rude bastard aren't I ? I'm Damon Creed, that's Shaun and mind if I ask who you fine gentlemen are ?"

[OPEN TO: Shaun, Richie and Seth in particular but anyone else can come into the bar if they wish. Please keep putting upstairs and downstairs in the subject line so to keep it straight, just in case others enter the bar]
79 deaths| why won't they die ?

Briar Cliff Manor: Downstairs ----CLOSED---- [01 Oct 2005|09:43pm]

The ragged breathing filled Nicholas ears as his eyes snapped, the pale grey eyes unfocused for a moment but then his eyesight cleared as the man slowly raised himself up into a sitting position. Oh, merde! What did I do last night ? Who did I... Nicholas thoughts trailed off as his eyes moved about the room. Pulling his knees up and resting his elbows on them, Nicholas fished a small, thin black cigar and box of matches before he lit. Putting the matches back into his shirt pocket, Nicholas took a short drag as he considered his surroundings. It was not dark, damp streets of Paris he had left behind and for that he was happy as Paris was a dangerous place for him to be now, especially after his confrontation with Rumen. Fils de pute, hope he burns in hell. No, Rumen was not here and Nicholas was not dead so things were looking up.

It was then the french man looked at his companions. He could hear their breathing and could even hear their heart beats, one of which was thumping madly. Frowning, he looked at the sleeping bodies, listening carefully. Hearing had always been his strongest sense but this mad heart beat was not coming from those who slept but rather from behind Nicholas.

Nicholas took the cigar out of his mouth as he turned his head to spy the young pale man at the door who was standing there with an open mouth, a surprised expression across his face. It was he who's breathing was so ragged and had awaken Nicholas. With a low chuckle at the man's obvious fear, Nicholas slowly climbed to his feet and turned to face the man.

"Vous ne devez pas avoir peur, je n'vais pas vous mordre... et ni l'un ni l'autre ne sont elles," Nicholas glanced down at the sleeping forms on the floor, noting the few women who lay there. The man stared at him blankly, finally closing his mouth when Nicholas spoke up again. "Quel est cet endroit? Et qui sont l'enfer êtes-vous?" Nicholas sniffed the air around the man, his eyes falling onto the white rat perched on his shoulder as his face scrunched up in distaste. The rat did not offend him but the smell of the man did, as he had the scent of something rotten clinging to him. "Tu pues le rat crevé..." Nicholas sighed as he realized why the man was staring at him so. Figures, fucking Anglo. "You're english, yes ?" The man shook his head mutely.

"Fine. What I asked was, what is this place and who the hell are you ? Also, Tu pues le rat crevé means you stink like a dead rat. What, have you been rolling around in shit all evening ?"

[Open to all those in Briar Cliff Manor or heading to Briar Cliff]
70 deaths| why won't they die ?

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