With a peculiar, slightly unnerving grace, a long-limbed figure skittered along the air vent, appearing little more as a fleeting shadow in the ducts...if it weren't for the eerie glow set off by his eyes. Normally, Thorn would have taken a more leisurely pace in his navigation of the complex...but he had an appointment to keep.

The stasis room's door was shut...though it had not been locked. It was a miracle really that nothing had wrecked it...then again the Storage level was comparatively safe...comparatively of course. If there was one thing he knew it was that the...creatures were unpredictable. It was one of the reasons that he rarely showed himself to anyone...but that day was different. If it was indeed daytime. It was waking-up day...or waking up night...or whatever. The lucky few who had been allowed a place in stasis would be coming out of it.

He believed that the plan had been to have a staff member, Mr White, on standby to reset the time if the infection had not been cured...but he also believed last time he'd seen that staff member, the upper half their body had been two floors away from the lower half...so he assumed that Mr White would not be joining them that day. It was quite understandable. He clearly had bigger problems.

Soon enough he reached the rusted grate that looked into the stasis room. A black hollow oval was drawn onto the plating beside it, indicating where it was.

He'd taken the time to label each of the main grates, so he knew where he was going if he had to leave in a hurry...round Labyrinth recently most exits were done in a hurry really.

The stasis room was quite large, with a high, reinforced ceiling. The stasis chambers were lined up in neat rows, various trailing wires leading down to ports locked into the floor. He could only assume that they'd gotten some sort of failsafe that they didn't lose power for too long...but the facility's power grid had taken a real battering..and they'd been offline for brief periods during the few months.

The figure of Thorn drew forwards into a relaxed sitting position, watching the devices levelly before casting a glance to the old watch that hunt from his pocket. A sharp-toothed grin cross the young man's features, and he began to count down the seconds until re-animation.
"4...3...2..1...blast off..."

With a sharp, metallic hiss, jets of greyish gas ejected from the stasis units, and they began the re-animation process.

So the fun began.

Careen sat up sharply, her gasp taking in the stale, rotten air. Frantically, she choked down as much oxygen as she could. She relished the feeling of her breathing becoming once again normal, feeling safer, she wasted enough air to let out a sigh of relief. That feeling of security didn't last long. She cast her gaze around the shadowy room, a thin layer of grey mist had filled the air.

This can't be a hospital..

With some difficulty, Careen managed to get out of the machine and stand on her own. She wondered how long her legs had been out of use...and how much longer they would've needed to become atrophied. The strange coffin she crawled out of, coffin being the best word to describe the object, did little to put her mind at ease. Her stomach lurched when she saw the wires sinking into the floor..What is all this? What have they done to me?

Careen stumbled forward and came across three sheets of paper crudely stuck onto the wall. The writing was estranged, the letters appeared to be scrawled by a madman...the editor didn't seem so mentally level, either.
Then Careen noticed something worse. The room was full of coffins like hers. With this realization, the notes slipped from Careen's fingers, onto the floor. She stepped back as the other machines started opening.

Maybe they were just as confused as she was...just as lost. People she could trust.

Or maybe not.

Jynx can feel as a strange pressure is lifted from her body. Her eyes snap open, only to be blinded by a strange greyish fog. She gasps in air frantically, feeling as if it had been years since any air had entered her lungs. Her heart was racing in her chest, panic flooding her body. I'm blind...where am I?! Jynx thinks to herself, stumbling from her steal coffin. They soon began to clear, though, to her relief. But that didn't mean it was a good thing...The shimmering sky blue eyes gazed around in a confused manner at the area in which she was in. It was dark, dank, and suddenly, Jynx realized, the air was actually quite stale and distasteful on her tongue.

She turns to examine the box in which she had been laid in, like a pretty little doll. It looked cold and empty, except for the few colorful wires which decorated the outside like jewels on a pig. Beauty on this thing was pointless, although Jynx knew the wires were actually for necessity, not beauty. Why was there no one here? Why did it seem so...empty..so cold...so..evil...She could practically feel the paranoia building in her chest once again as she turned on her feet to finally notice another woman, seeming to be standing by some paper on the wall.

"H-hey! Who are you?" Jynx asks, placing her hand against her left arm. She jumps slightly in surprise, snapping her eyes down to gaze at the bumpy feeling on the surface of her skin. What the...? Jynx ponders, finally noticing the scaly like texture which covered it. It wasn't just on one arm though, it was on the other as well. She takes the time to finger over every little bump. It was the same color of her skin, but rough, like a snake's. Jynx thought of maybe trying to peel the strange texture off, but realized it was actually very deep in her skin, and knew that if she did, it would only leave bloody craters in her arm. That would be quite painful and unnecessary...Maybe it would simply go away on it's own..Maybe she was allergic to something...yah, that must be it..., Jynx reassures herself.

Still, it was a bit disgruntling. What the hell could possibly be happening? What was on her skin, and what was going on here? In worry, she walks up to the woman, also taking the time to peer at the paper on the wall which was scribbled all over as if a child had wrote it. She takes a few moments, squinting her eyes as if she were an old lady who needed glasses to read the small words, to read it. Surely the man who wrote this was losing his sanity. Jynx closes her eyes, and leans her forehead against the cool wall, running her fingers through her thin, ink black hair. She needed to calm herself, and think over some things...There were so many things just not right...

"Uh, Ca...Careen.." she stammered, "Careen Spurling." As the young woman read over the notes, Careen found herself staring at that arm, that scaly arm...suddenly feeling self-conscious, Careen looked herself over, to make sure no lesions of a similar sort marred her own body. Nothing.
Careen watched the woman's expression as she read each of the notes, she was just as confused and scared as she was. The other woman then took to the nearest wall, she looked fairly distraught, as if trying to get a firm hold of the situation. Careen approached carefully, "Y-you don't think it's true, do you? That they changed our cells?" She paused and swallowed, "What's your name?"
This place had a nightmarish atmosphere, Careen half-expected the woman to turn around and become some sort of monster....but the note. The note said everyone in this room was subjected to experimentation, trapped in this Labyrinth like lab-rats. Horrid things had happened to everyone in here...maybe even Careen herself.

Flint gasped awake, eyes flickering open to the dimly lit room. Open, but not seeing. He breathed in and out deeply a few times on autopilot, as his vision swam into focus. The first thing he noticed was the lack of light, and the strange ghostly gas in the air. Next was the smell, stale and damp with an undercurrent of something he didn't quite want to identify. After a split second of surveying his surroundings –and holy crap was he in a coffin?! - He had a bit of an interior freak out. Where was he? What time was it? What date was it? He resolved not to get up until he knew it was safe and darted his eyes about the room frantically as he took in quiet little gasps of musty air. There were several other coffins inside the room too, and he watched as two other people emerged from them.

Who were these people? Why were they here? Why was he here?

Flint was stifled under the weight of his own questions, and decided not to wait any longer. He had to find out what the hell was going on! He sat up stiffly, spotting the two women talking to each other tentatively. Maybe they know what’s happening? He used his arms to help his stiff body out of the coffin thing and stood, if a little shaky at first.

“Hey… um…” His voice came out a little dry and choked, as if not used in a long while, and he cleared his throat. “Where are we? Who are you?” Flint moved to take a step and staggered a little, gripping onto another casket for support. His legs felt like jelly. And they hurt. A lot. The confused man tried to calm himself and remember anything recent before this, and drew a blank. There was one thing he could remember though. His accident. His paralysing accident.

I should not be walking right now.

How am I walking?

He hoped these two had some sort of answer for him, but a part of his brain knew that they wouldn’t. They were probably in the same boat as he.

He had a bad feeling about this.

Cassie’s chest heaved once, twice, as she took her first breath after a long time. The air smelt like socks after they had been sitting in water for a long time - not quite pleasant. Her eyes snapped open, taking in an enclosed surface that she was lying in, although the lid had already opened.

Her memory felt fuzzy, and she couldn’t quite remember why she was in this place in the first place. One delicate hand reached up to feel her face, and make sure that this was actually reality, to feel something that was obviously not her face! It couldn’t be. Running a finger over the object again with a sort of thrill, Cassie felt something of the same type as dough, and as she pressed slightly harder, it left an imprint.

So what was this?

She turned her head to look, her bones feeling stiff, and didn’t see anything interesting - nothing that could be the thing that she was touching. Lifting her hand slightly higher, she saw the tips of her fingers, directly between her eyes.

But why couldn’t she feel anything?

Pressing down harder, she saw the skin on and around her nose start to change shape, leaving her with more of a button nose than the aquiline one that she had originally possessed - one of her most prized possessions. Choking down a scream of terror, her hands explored her face again - still with the dents that she had accidentally created. Was this really her? It couldn’t be! She sat up suddenly, before running both hands over her features with a sort of disbelief. Her ears were still the same shape, but the same feeling of touching jelly remained. So - could it really be her that had become…

Her mind stopped this line of thought, before she removed her searching hands from her face. It was a strange room - certainly, it didn’t look very nice. Covered in some sort of grey mist, it appeared like a scene from one of those movies where the heros died in the first three minutes. Wires lined the ground like the arteries to some demented heart.

Wait. Why was she still alive? At the very least, she remembered the burning pain and then nothing. Cassie had assumed that she died, but maybe not. If she died, it seemed as though she wasn’t a good person - this could only be hell.

But whatever. Hell was hell. There were three other people out there walking around, and a boy seemed to have trouble walking. Feeling her face’s appearance change again, she tried to smile - but felt it come out slightly awkwardly. Taking in a deep breath, and managing not to gag from the horrible smell, she tried to speak - listening with a blend of fascination and horror as it came out with a nasal-tone.

This was not her voice.

Her voice was high and pure - not this voice that seemed to fit those girls who whined almost constantly. “Do you want some help?” the voice said. Maybe this wasn't the best idea. After all, Cassie wasn’t able to offer quite that much - she was still sitting in her coffin - not wanting to try not her weak legs and try to move.

Flint frowned in puzzlement at his uncooperative legs, wondering how he could stand at all. He felt like Bambi on stilts on ice, awkward, clumsy and potentially disastrous. His grip on the casket tightened and he tried coaxing his feet to move.

Come on… it’s just like riding a bike. You’ll remember. He scoffed at his own thoughts. Yeah right.

He sighed and was ready for a second try when he actually noticed what he was holding onto and his eyes boggled at the sight of the unopened casket - with someone inside.

Just how many of these are there?

Flint’s thoughts were interrupted by the slightly nasal voice from somewhere in the shadowy room. He flinched, eyes darting about the area. Who was that? The wary man spotted her after a moment, sitting up from her own box. (This place must be a claustrophobic’s worst nightmare…) The woman was looking at him, and he felt embarrassed almost immediately after processing what she had said.

Do I really look so pathetic? He thought, scowling.

However, she didn’t seem to mean any offense; she actually seemed a little hesitant if anything.

“Sure…if you’re willing.” His pride almost made him refuse, but something told Flint he would need to take any help he could get in this place, pride be damned.

Careen carefully looked over her shoulder, another person had addressed her and the woman she was talking to. She's not going to answer me right now...maybe she doesn't want to give her name at a time like this. I don't blame her... She peered again at the young woman, Maybe she wants to be left alone.

After seeing the three people so far, Careen was able to safely conclude that nobody emerging from the pods...or coffins, were aiming to cause her any harm or grief. The one gentleman appeared to be having a difficult time walking, his legs probably needed some time to get working again. The third person she noticed had already kindly offered to help him, though she appeared to still be sitting in her former confines. To offer help so quickly....

A little altruism always helps. Careen smiled at the gentle notion then began to examine the room some more, it would be good to get a better look at this area. She could introduce herself later, there were certainly some more pressing issues. The notes said to move to the upper levels. So, where were they? Somewhere low.
The mist in the room was starting to disperse, so she was able to catch a somewhat better view. The ambient noise in the room had all but vanished...it was deathly quiet save for the breathing and the rustling of movement from the other experiments.
Careen felt her heart skip a beat. It was really quiet.

Her lip began to quiver and her hands began to shake just slightly. How long had it been since she last heard music? Or any kind of rhythm or melody...there was no natural syncopation of moving machinery, they didn't even hum or whir. Nothing.

Nervously, she began humming quietly to herself. Just focus. Examine the room. You're OK.

It was like an impermeable haze was lifted from his mind. He lied still for a moment, one hand pressed over his heaving chest as his lungs strained to reinflate themselves. Noise. Voices? There was someone talking in the distance, but it was a muffled sound. Like the rest of him, his ears hadn’t had much use for quite some time. He subconsciously realized that he would have to get used to his body again. ‘What happened?’ was his first coherent thought. His limbs felt strange, almost too light – as if he had been submerged in water for half an eternity before finally being set back on land. With it was a strange sensation. It felt as if something ominous were approaching and suddenly he was reluctant to open his eyes.

However, just lying there wasn’t going to do anything. In his current physical state, he doubted that he would even be able to fall asleep… was that what he had been doing? Sleeping? If so, for how long? He swallowed, trying to wet his sandpaper tongue, and slowly mustered the courage to open his eyes.

He couldn’t.

It was as if someone had poured glue over them, sticking his lids together. With a frustrated grunt, he reached up with his fingers to feel nothing but his skin… Pressing with his fingers, he strained to open them again. This time, he could barely make out a sliver of grey… but there were threads in his vision. Had someone stitched his eyes shut? The prospect made his heart both speed up and fall to the pits of his empty stomach. He blinked, an suddenly, the thick tendrils crisscrossing his vision thinned and fell away… and he finally wrapped his head around the notion that those threads had been his skin. What was going on?

As his vision cleared, he slowly rose from the contraption he had awoken in. His legs felt weak from disuse. He slowly took in the sights around him, and noticed that there were several others in the room as well. Where was he? What was going on? Suddenly, as if someone had double-layered images, his vision blurred and saw double… no… he saw a different image in its entirety. While he could barely make out the now shaded forms of the other humans, he could also make out the contraption that was behind him. Something was dreadfully wrong with him, and the images made him dizzy.

Bringing a hand to his face, he staggered… and that’s when he noticed. He saw an image of his own face. Laid atop of that vision was one of his hand… and the enormous, black-pooled eye that stared at him. His weakened legs gave away and he couldn’t keep a short, startled cry from escaping his lips. In addition to the shock, the second realization he made was this:

He couldn't remember anything.

Will had to sudden urge to gasp for air, but he fought it, and instead forced himself to take several shorter breaths, each one filling his lungs a little more, each one causing him to take in the odd smell of the room he was in. The air was stale, but tasted foul. He was reminded suddenly of one of the small field trips he had taken during his time as a medical student. The class had gone to an old, run down insane asylum. The roof was mostly intact, so there was very little mold and mildew, but the air was very stale because of this, he could taste the decaying stone and plaster that had made up the walls, smell the old wooden woods which had warped from the changing of the seasons.

Finally opening his eyes, he expects to himself back in that place. Instead, he sees his own reflection, and reaching up, finds a layer of glass over his head that, with a bit of pressure, lifts up and falls away, shattering on the ground beside his bed. The sound echoes, the movement of the glass through the air causing the grey mist around him to be blown back.

Except this wasn't a bed. Beds didn't have walls or a glass roof.

Slowly he sits up and looks around, his senses still a bit dulled from the time he had been asleep. How long had he been asleep? It didn't matter, he was awake now, but he was now once again faced with the problem of where he actually was. It was no insane asylum, but the similar smell made him believe it was somewhere similar. He was in some building that had fallen into disrepair. Whatever he was in, there were several more of them stretching out on either side of him as far as he could see. In the distance, he could hear something, people talking maybe, but they were too far away to hear clearly, and with such little light there was no hope of seeing them from here.

Reaching up he takes off his glasses with one hand, and with the other begins to wipe the lenses clean with the corner of his shirt. As he does this he glances around a bit more, then, once clean, he replaces his glasses and very carefully pulls himself out of the 'bed' and steps down onto the floor. It wasn't a very great distance from the bed to the floor, but up until now, both of his legs had been broken, and it takes him until this point to realize that was no longer the case, that in fact, they felt stronger than every. Putting his full weight on them, he smiles a bit, then frowns, and begins to look around, trying to figure out where he is.

It is at this point that Will spots the young-ish looking man sitting a few feet away. In the dim light, his eyes glow yellow, but aside from the pale skin of his face and his light hair, he can tell no more about him.

"Good morning..." Will says, sticking his hands in his pockets, waiting to see if they will say anything in return.

The faint sounds of chattering drew Devin towards consciousness, though with this also came the pounding headaches. The pressure was like a vice pressing into his temples, trying to squeeze his sanity out of his eye sockets but couldn't quite get past his eyes. In an attempt to ease the pain, he opened his eyes hoping it would alleviate the pressure, but his pupils were so dilated that it just intensified the pain as well as blinded him. The now frightened man whimpered quietly in this world of pain and bright lights as he waited for the headaches to stop or at least subside. By the time they did, Devin could hear new voices, one asking if another needed help and two others making what sounded like small talk. It sounded like a game lobby between matches, but waaay friendlier. He tried opening his eyes again, slowly this time, and saw nothing but grey mist and darkness beyond it. Sitting up, Devin rubbed his poor sensitive eyes and looked about, seeing the bodies the voices belonged to, but couldn't seem to piece together where he was, only remembering that he signed up for something...

Think of it as a game...

It was a phrase Devin had heard before... he couldn't remember when and focusing on it made the headaches come back, but it had to do with where he was, right? He felt like it was important... maybe this was a game? He'd heard of total immersion virtual reality games before, but all of those were just conceptual, weren't any ready for development yet.

Unless this was a beta test for such a system.

The headaches had to be a side effect of the game linking to his senses, but the longer he was up, the less it hurt, and figured eventually they wouldn't bother him anymore. These guys had to be other beta testers, though he thought it was weird he couldn't see any gamertags above their heads. After a little bit of looking at the various grey shapes in the room, figuring this was some sort of sci fi dungeon he was stuck in, he stretched his limbs and nearly lost his mind in how good it felt to move, figuring his brain wasn't adjusted to moving limbs that didn't actually exist. His real body had to be flailing right now as it coped. It made Devin chuckle, and prompted him to try opening his mouth, which he found difficult to do as he had not spoken in ages, or at all really, as this was a virtual world that he was still assessing. After a few more tries and a bit of tongue action to wet his lips, he opened his mouth and made a systems check, speaking nonsense as he cleared his throat, and then hopped out of his spawning chamber.

"Hell of a tutorial level, can't imagine what the enemies look like. Wonder if you can fight them like in DOOM or if you have to run away like in Amnesia" He muttered to himself, walking like a newly born giraffe as he tried to get used to his new digital body.

"Damn glitches... I hope they're patching this as they go" He muttered again, wandering around now to look for interesting items, ignoring the others for now, looking at the other spawning chamber before seeing his reflection faintly staring back at him in an empty pod, staring into his blue eyes through his blonde hair, though it used to be much shorter than this. He turned and headed back to the others, looking about above their heads to see if any gamertags had appeared, but no luck.

"Can anyone else see my name above my head or is my version just messing up?" He asked, looking about at the others. "My name should be SideburnAssassin7".

Careen whipped around as the man behind her prattled on about..."Videogames?" Her eyes narrowed and her posture tilted along with her head, "Listen, Game Boy, I think you got it wrong, here. Sideburn Assassin? What are you, a hairdresser?" Careen stopped herself, realizing just how rude she was being. It wasn't like her at all, though the onset of a burgeoning panic attack was currently taking up some of her mental faculties, it could barely stand as an excuse.

She sighed, "Sorry. I'm not doing so hot right now." Careen looked around, trying not to appear desperate. Putting a hand in her pocket and drawing in a deep breath, she said, "If this is a game, it could really use some sort of soundtrack."

Thorn watched the exchanges between the subjects from his vantage point, vaguely amused by the confusion they were displaying.

He shifted forwards, eyes giving off a vivid yellow glow in the comparative gloom of the vent. He was aware of the light they tended to give off...though it didn't seem like the newly awakened subjects were any the wiser to his presence...not until that point anyway.

He guessed her should reveal himself. It would be best to get a bit of discourse in before Birdie arrived...and Birdie would arrive eventually. He expected she'd probably already caught that it was happening...but Birdie tended to wander around the complex to such a degree that it was difficult to work out how long it would take for her to arrive.

Thorn cleared his throat, and spoke up.

"Hey!" he called.
"Over here! I would not be standing around here if I were you. The storage floor is comparatively deserted, but you still get a good few nasties running around this level that would hesitate to turn you into lunch. Your best bet is to get up to the accomodation floor. Then you'll mostly only have Palmira to worry about. You hang around storage too long someone'll creep up on you. At least one of them are going to be on their way right now...so you all better get yourselves together."

Jessica's eyes shot open as a heavy feeling was lifted from her chest. She felt as though a fog was slowly leaving her mind, leaving her free and clear. She stared up at the glass-like coffin around her in shock, not quite recovered. She slowly raised her hands straight into the air, testing to see if she could move. She found she could -not very fast- but she was motorized. She gasped slightly at the appearance of her skin. Tiny cracks splintered across her wrists and arm, giving the appearance she was breaking.

" Hua! Hnng... What?" She asked aloud, confused. She grunted slightly as she strained to pull herself from her laying position, quickly forgetting the condition of her skin. Her surroundings were more important. Her eyes widened visibly as she noticed there were other people in the room with her. She stayed silent as she rubbed her arm slightly, attempting to smooth the cracks in her skin. She skimmed the face's of the room's attendies. One was standing in a crooked position in the middle of the room, and a few others were standing, or sitting in the "coffins" they awoke from. Jessica pulled her legs up to her chest, peeking over her knees warily at the other people.

Flint was so irritated he could barely stand it. Irritated at the situation he was in, the strangers around him, and that disturbing aura he had felt in this room from the moment he had woken up. Something was not right here at all. It was as though he was being watched, like even the walls themselves were eyeing him. He was tense and paranoid and angry and he just wanted to go home.

And here I am, stood like a lemon doing absolutely nothing. Useless.

He felt himself getting more and more worked up until he thought he was just going to explode. The noises in the room became quiet and far away.

He didn’t realise he had been actually moving until he almost collided with someone. He was ecstatic for a moment, having finally been able to walk, even if it was induced by his anger. Then the person spoke, presumably to the whole group, and Flint was in a foul mood all over again.

Storage… Is that what this is?

Flint was suspicious immediately. This guy seemed like he knew a lot about this place; almost too much. He seemed perfectly comfortable with his surroundings, as if this was just a daily occurrence for him. And his eyes… they glowed. They actually glowed. How long had he been here?

How long had they been here, asleep in ‘storage’? None of it made sense and he wanted to tear his hair out in frustration at how little he could remember.

The man seemed to know what he was doing though, and if Flint wanted a way out then this was probably it. It was an easy decision to make to follow him… At least for now. It wouldn’t hurt to ask a couple of questions though.

“How can we trust you?” Flint glared sceptically at the man. “You could be one of those ‘nasties’ or whatever they are, just leading us into a trap.” He folded his arms, huffing out a breath of annoyance. “What reason could you possibly have to help us?”

Devin never stopped smiling as Careen fussed at him, thinking for a moment at the comment she made about a soundtrack, looking around at their surroundings for a bit before shrugging.

"Pretty sure this is a survival horror game, so there won't be much music... silence is scary. If we DO hear music, it'll probably be right before a boss battle" He said, sounding almost excited about the prospect. Before he could bring up the gamertag thing again, however, a man off to the side of the group began talking, explaining their situation to them. Devin walked over once he was done speaking and looked him over, then turned to address the group.

"I think he's a part of the tutorial" he announced, then looked over at the control panel, and again addressed the group.

"Plus if he wanted to give us a game over, he'd have just not opened the pods. This is a neat game" He said, then looked up in amazement as he finally began seeing the gamertags, smiling but not saying anything for now. Why should he? They picked their own names, why should he tell them about it? He looked over at Thorn again and could see just the name Thorn over his head, a different color than the rest, and figured he wasn't part of the tutorial but probably a player like them, but was one of the coders of the game. Wouldn't be much of a test if they all died at the start, now would it? He figured there would probably be more like him further out in the game, which almost disappointed him. He liked figuring things out on his own, and didn't want to have his hand held during this game. He then looked back over at Thorn and gave him an unsure look.

"So...do we get a map or something? How do you access the start menu in a VR game like this anyway"

After saying nothing for a time the odd man with the glowing eyes finally did speak up, and when he spoke it was to address the whole group. He spoke of their need to move to the upper levels, and mentioned that there were 'nasties' on their way to get them, whatever that meant. He was curious as to what a Palmira might be, as it sounded a bit like a breed or horse to Will, but then again he knew very little about horses. Before he could ask the stranger anything, others came closer and begin to voice their opinions as to what was going on. One man, who looked like he hadn't seen the light of day in years, was talking about this all being a video game.

Personally, Will didn't care what was going on. After everything he'd been through in life his motto had become, 'you'll either live through it or give up and die.' Not a very nice motto, but it had fit with his life over the past few years anyway.

"If I might make a suggestion..." Will says after coughing to clear his throat. He removes his hands from his pockets and crosses his arms, turning to face all the others, "I for one don't have a clue as to where we are or what's going on. But if we just stand around here, we'll never figure anything out. So, I suggest we try and find an exist, whether we listen to this fellow or not." It was now that he felt his elbows and notices the dry, rough patches there. It was as if the skin had callused extensively since he had been asleep, but he knew normally it took years of work to make a callus like this. Saying nothing, he ignores it and continues, "Can everyone move on their own? Does anyone need any help? I think if we stick together and help one another along we can get out of here and find some answers, what do you all think?"

Careen had been nodding along with the man's every word. "I'm ready to go. There were some notes, she has them right now," she gestured to the fair ink-haired lady next to the wall, "I think he wrote them." She gazed back at his strange, iridescent eyes, then turned back to the strong, composed gentleman. "If he's back to warn us again, we're probably running out of time."
Her hand began to tremble and Careen quickly captured her wrist with the other hand and bit her lip. The panic was beginning to rise and she had to submerge it as best she could. It was like a frightening prelude that would soon swell into a cacophony of terror. She had to stymie the musicomania as much as possible, before it took her over and sent her body into shock. She surmised she had; roughly four hours.

The man answered in affirmation, but somehow, Cassie was just unable to untangle her extremely sore legs in time. With an extreme effort, she drew her legs beneath her until she was kneeing inside her coffin. Just gathering up her strength, she pushed herself upwards, in time to hear a choked off cry.

Cassie lost her balance, and settled back on her knees. Looking around to see who had made the sound, and saw someone holding the palms in front of his face, and seeming to be looking terrified. She, out of impulse, placed her own hands in front of her face, and ever so carefully, gingerly, touched her face again. It must be some type of fluke - she hadn’t been able to feel for a while, so her senses were acting up.

To no avail.

Her fingers touched putty, and she drew them away in disgust again. Cassie’s attention was further diverted from the matter when a voice spoke. One that she hadn’t heard before. “Hey! Over here! Her eyes travelled throughout the room, before settling on the yellow glowing objects - were those the source of the sound? They seemed to be almost like… eyes, but she had never seen eyes that were that particular shade. “I would not be standing around here if I were you. The storage floor is comparatively deserted, but you still get a good few nasties running around this level that would hesitate to turn you into lunch.” The onslaught of terror that came from that matter-of-fact statement propelled Cassie out of her kneeling position, and before she knew it, she was standing on the ground, legs slightly trembling from the exertion. The voice continued. “Your best bet is to get up to the accommodation floor. Then you’ll mostly only have Palmira to worry about. You hang around storage too long someone’ll creep up on you. At least one of them are going to be on their way right now… you all better get yourselves together.”

Cassie walked, half-limped, over closer to the voice. She had to ask it exactly what was going on with her, and felt her flesh move… almost jiggle. She stopped in her tracks when the man from before spoke. “How can we trust you? You could be one of those ‘nasties’ or whatever they are, just leading us into a trap. What reason could you possibly have to help us?”

Some other male spoke again, but out of sheer impatience, Cassie focused primarily on the moving from her … coffin to the strange glowing eyes. She only caught a few words of what he was saying, but to her mind, they made no sense without the context of all his words. Things like ‘tutorial’ and ‘start menu’. If she didn’t know better, Cassie would have assumed that perhaps this was a game - but no game could ever capture the feeling of… her own skin.

“If I might make a suggestion…” interjected yet another person. Cassie, once again, tuned them out, but when catching a word that caught her attention, paid full attention to what he had to say. Maybe he knew what had happened - … because despite all of her attempts, Cassie could not remember a single event in her near past… She could remember her friends and their faces, but how had she ended up in such a predicament. “help? I think if we stick together and help one another along, we can get out of here and find some answers, what do you all think?”

She opened her mouth to add her own opinion, but then, remembering the horrible voice that had spilt out, thought better of it, and listened to the female. “I’m ready to go. There were some notes, she has them right now. I think he wrote them. If he’s back to warn us again, we’re probably running out of time.” Cassie narrowed her eyes, the movement feeling fluid, before directing her attention to the papers that the black-haired woman was holding. She wondered what they said, but, as traveling was so difficult, decided that perhaps she would figure out their contents in the future.

Dredging up the deepest extent of her courage, she opened her voice to speak. This time, her voice was different again - raspy like a cat’s sandpaper tongue. She meant to say something inspiring, something that would empower everyone else next to her, but what came out was a single question. “Is this real?” Her eyes darted around the room, with her mind unable to stop the barrage of terror. Two deep breaths later, her startled state was exchanged for a facade of calm. “We’re going to get eaten, aren’t we?” she suddenly stated. She wasn’t an actress for nothing. “Well, if you people want to struggle for your survival, don’t count me out. What better way to die than to go out with a bang?”

"Well you can take my advise or leave it, frankly." Thorn responded from his perch, the eerie glow of his eyes flickering momentarily as he blinked. He re-adjusted himself so he could be more easily heard.

"I'm just being a concerned citizen. I mean, that being said...if I was some sort of predatory monster, then I'd probably be down there trying to tears your lungs out norse blood eagle style wouldn't I, hmm? None of your are looking exactly chipper and it wouldn't take a lot to bring you all down when you're just out of stasis.....in fact that is exactly why I'm speaking to you now, at personal risk to myself...as I'm sure other people might have had a similar sort of idea as me...and some of the creatures around here know things without being told..."

He was stopped by a noise issuing from the door at the end of the room, a noise of scratching and banging on the surface as something struggled with the handle.

"Oh look..." Thorn added after a moment.
"Birdie's here. Looks like it's my cue to leave. Appointments to keep. You know how it is."

The yellow glow of his eyes suddenly flickered out, being replaced but the thick shadows of the vent.

At the same time, the door, stiffened by the rust on its hinges, began to grind open. A scrawny hand, the index and middle finger fused from the knuckle to the tip, reached around, trying to get a better grip. The noise of shrill, ragged breathing issue from the other side as the creature attempted to push the door open the rest of the way.