Jacob Creed's Story

His was the last car to pull up, but unlike the rest it was driven by the patient in question. Sure, the doctor had sent a cab...but Jacob didn't like the way the driver had stared at his scars, so he drove the way himself. Dark green, no rust yet but a few dents; the vehicle was a good match for it's owner- they both had a few miles of bad road behind them. He parked and popped the trunk, moving to the rear to snag his duffel.

Wearing simple clothes, he did his best to blend in- the scars on the left side of his face however made that impossible. That was the story of his adult life. He did his best to try and just live a normal life, but he could tell when the person he was talking to was more busy trying to maintain eye contact, so as to not seem rude and stare at his face, that they missed most of the conversation. It made him mad. When he was mad people got hurt.

'Fuck this place, fuck that doctor. Fucking burn the building down.' a thought slithered through his mind- he was used to the dark thoughts, it was when he acted on them without meaning to that he worried. Taking a breath he counted to ten in his head, and walked towards the building. He may be last to arrive...but he had his own car. If things went tits up he could just drive off.

He also had a gun.

He wasn't supposed to have it, no one was supposed to bring any weapons. But he had a 9mm. Something in his mind had said it was a smart thing to pack, and who knows, it might just be that. But for now it's just a solid weight in the bottom of his bag..

Theo could hear another car pull up behind her just as she'd entered the house, but she didn't bother to turn back. It was a beautiful home, with wood furnished floors and Victorian styling. She felt a smile appear on her face as she dropped her bags on the edge of the couch.

“Miss Chang?”

The man's voice nearly made her jump a mile, but she turned around to see a kind looking older male smiling at her. “Hai,” she replied a bit nervously, and hadn't even caught the language change in time to correct it. She offered her hand, which he shook.

“So, anybody have a look around Bates Motel yet?”

Theo snorted, she couldn't help it, she was a huge movie fan—especially the old 'psycho' kind—so she picked up the reference. She shook her head as an answer. “Just me so far, and I've only just arrived. Love the hair, by the way.”

Was it possible this boys presence was calming her down? Probably. Nothing could sooth her nerves better than a movie reference and a mohawk. She loved the hair style for some reason. It was liking giving the middle finger to the world, and that was an attitude she could relate with.

At least she was speaking English again. So far things were looking up.

Beside her, the man she'd pegged as Dr. Jones just chuckled a slightly disapproving laugh, and offered his hand for the second time. “Ah, and Mr. Carver.”

But before he could say anything else, a commotion outside quickly stole his attention. “Ah...Miss Chang...that didn't sound to good...if you wouldn't mind?”

Theo shook her head a little and resisted the urge to lift on her tiptoes and run her fingers over the brightly colored mohawk as she stepped out of the house. Her eyes quickly fell on the cause of their distraction and she winced.

A dark haired male was laying flat on his back, knee in his arms, luggage around him. It seemed as if the cab had left in a hurry, but she was too far behind to know what was actually going on.

“Hey, you okay?” she asked, a little hesitantly as she started to walk over towards him. In her past, asking guys if they were okay hadn't always worked out in her favor. Something about demoting their masculinity, she supposed.

Just as she'd knelled down by the boy in question, her attention was grabbed by the arrival of a green car. Not a cab? Patient, or doctor, or something else?

Her question was quickly answered when the driver got out. At first, she didn't notice it. He was dressed simply, tall and built, it was only when he turned that she saw the scars. She felt bad for staring, but it was only for a moment. Not because of guilt, but because he wasn't her main focus at the moment.

Theo wasn't a very superficial person herself, she'd just been shocked for a moment. She'd never seen that much scarring. But more interested it the scars themselves...she was interested in the story behind them. Yeah, she was that person.

A girl came up and asked, “Hey, you okay?”

He looked over at her and was about to respond when another car came up. This one came in and parked. Murphy tilted his head back so his crown was on the ground and his chin in the air. Looking at the upside down world, he watched as the man got out of his car. He turned back to the girl and said, "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm..." She seemed rather focused on the man getting out of the car at that point. "I'm just going to grab my jetpack, fly to the moon, become a florist..." Her attention seemed to snap back at him, or more away from the man? He turned his head to look at the man as he passed. His face had been scarred and he seemed focused on his own thing at the moment. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little bit of shattered bone..." He held out his hand in a request for her to help him up.

He stood, which was rather difficult with one foot with tire prints in it and the other knee getting the farewell kiss from the bumper of the taxi. "I can walk." Which he could, painfully and jerkily, kind of limping on one leg, then stumbling on the other. "I think I just need to sit down inside, then I'll come back and get my bag. I don't mean to be a bother."

Did that boy get run over? What the fuck...

Jacob shook his head and made his way over to Murphy and Theo, simply shifting as he stepped closer, dropping his left shoulder and dipping down to lift Murphy up into a Fireman's Carry- he made it look easy, his powerful muscles lifting Murphy like he weighed hardly a thing. In his time in the military Jacob had been a Corpsman, a combat medic, he knew how to handle a foot injury. This of course would all be a major surprise to Murphy who would find himself suddenly lifted into the air.

"Get the luggage. I'll bring him inside." he said to Theo, turning on his heel and striding towards the building.

In his head though things were different.

He saw images of war torn landscapes, shattered human remains, screaming men. The smell of smoke and blood was almost choking. None of it was real, he was quite used to these vivid mental barrages, but they still bothered him. This one wasn't the worst, but it was enough to make him feel sick to his stomach. He held it together though, and kept moving towards the building.

"Yeah, I could tell you one story about a ball pit up in Canada..." He was about to keep talking when a man came up and hoisted him over his shoulder, his pipe hanging from mouth, almost falling out. "Oh, OK. Nice to meet you." He grabbed his pipe as it started to fall. "I have to say, I've never been whisked off my feet before." He looked at Theo as they went inside and he sort of shrugged. "Well, I have to say it's an interesting beginning to this little vacation. Oh, uh, wai... Um, what's your name? I don't think I caught it yet."

As they crossed the threshold into the house itself, Murphy felt a wave of energy, like the mood of the house was different than outside. He looked at the doorway as they passed it and saw his two mental roommates standing on either side of the door. As Theo walked in, the one brushed his hand through her hair over her ear and the other put his hand on her throat, then they both turned and looked at Murphy. He closed his eyes and shook his head. Already? They usually don't bother me unless I'm unfocused or... He sighed and tried to brush it off, but he was worried about how this would go when he was already seeing them.

He grunted, listening to the doctor's speech.So, there was going to be this small group? Small groups were alright with him, made getting used to seeing him easier for the others. Moving to shrug he notes the weight and chuckles slightly, "So, where do I put you then? Think you can walk on your own yet?"

A roll of his shoulders and he adjusts the weight of the other man more comfortably again. This guy's weight was nothing, in combat Jacob had to carry almost two hundred pounds of gear, and he was still in good shape. He may be ugly but he took care of himself. "I know a little first aid if needed, but if it's broke...you're screwed."

His mind screamed terror at him, begged to cause blood to flow. It was his worst enemy, and it never rested. Trained to kill all those years...if he let go it would be horrible. The gun was heavy in his bag, it was just his imagination....but it pulled at him like an anvil. He could almost feel the grip in his palm, the trigger's slight resistance...it would be so easy.

Shaking away the thoughts with a sigh he looks towards the doctor while he waits further instruction. This was going to be a long and difficult time.

"Yeah, I think I'm fine. I mean, I can move everything, it just hurts." After he's set down, he sits. "Thanks for the concern though. Sorry to interrupt doc, I'll just be a second. I have to say the concern was, unexpected. Most people I know wouldn't think twice about asking if I was alright, much less helping right away before they'd walk on by, a few I know with their noses in the air. Thanks, and it's a pleasure to meet you." He put his hand out to shake. His eyes rested on the scares around where his nose was. He wasn't staring, it was just where his eyes rested on the man's face. He didn't even take the time to think the man might find it rude or embarrassing. The scars didn't seem a big deal to him, though they were hard to ignore. If he'd thought about it, he probably would have thought it would have been more insulting to actively avoid it.

"Hey, um, doctor? I do have to ask, just this one last interruption before we get started, do you have any pain killers? Just enough to tide me through today, maybe tomorrow. There was a miscommunication between the cabbie and..." He was going to say the cab driver and the doctor but instead sighed and did an arm gesture basically referencing his knees down. "I mean, I don't need Vicodin or morphine or anything. But at least some Tylenol or something to quiet it down?"

Theo leaned over and told him her name. "It's a pleasure. I'm..." He thought about it a second, leaving an audible pause, almost like he forgot his own name. He could be anybody he wanted to be. The doctor couldn't say anything, could he? He signed a few forms, he wasn't sure all of what the doctor could and couldn't do. Sure, he wouldn't tell anyone his life story, or so he said, but if Murphy just started flat out lying, would he tell them that much, even if not what he's lying about? Then the idea of how would he keep everything together if he made it too complicated. I can keep it simple, don't worry. Simple? You may be simple, but you've never been able to keep anything simple. You complicate everything. And what do you think the two bozos sharing space up here will do? What would they do? The one would probably go with it, but what about the darker one? He had a bad feeling about this place, like it made their personalities even stronger and his weaker. He couldn't chance it and after the pause just blurted out, kind of to everybody, "Murphy! My name is Murphy. Murphy Cairbre Ó Fionnagáin. I know, I don't look Irish, but that's on my dad's side, mainly." He cleared his throat and slunk back in his seat, feeling entirely embarrassed.

---

---

Catherine stood in front of the mansion door, waiting for a response, while Karkat glanced around the mansion grounds. The old brick house towered above them and silently watched the pair with dozens of curtained glass eyes. The sinking dusk darkened the mansion to dull ochre. The faint light from the many windows glowed faintly against the coming dark. The spires and towers of the mansion cast long shadows which disappeared into a looming forest that surrounded the house from all sides, but could not overtake the cold stone and mortar. Not yet.

Catherine noted with glee that the mansion seemed high enough and large enough to indulge her itch for exploration. With that many window sills and wallholds, I’ll be able to get to the roof from almost anywhere! Pawsome! she thought as she bounced up and down in anticipation. Maybe I can climb in my room and surprise everyone. She frowned and her eyebrows wrinkled in thought. Wait. No. Bad idea. The windows might be locked. She crossed her arms and tapped her cheek with a finger while she scanned the house’s exterior.
Karkat noticed her typical “I’m Thinking” expression while she looked over the house. He gave a heavy sigh.
“C’mon Nep you haven’t been inside two seconds and you’re already-

The large door before them swung open with a soft moan. At the threshold stood a man in a pressed suit jack and hat looking down at her with a smile. This must be Doctor Jones! He looks happy to see me. I hope hasn’t been waiting too long. Though a little startled, Catherine gave him an enthusiastic smile. Okay, girl. This is it. We purrceed purrfessionally and tactfully. Politeness judo go! She imagined a fader in her head as she slowly toned down the smile on her face from a high powered “beaming” to a half-lit “faded.”

“Good evening, Doctor Jones,” she said as she crossed the threshold. Karkat followed in wordlessly, keeping his eyes on the Doctor as the pair entered into a main room of sorts. “I’m Catherine Leijon-Delgado and I apologize for my lateness.” The words came out perfectly polished and practiced. Utterly artificial, but that was what she was going for. She gestured to her boyfriend trailing behind her with a look of calculated disinterest. "This is Karkit-er, Karkat Vantas, a purrsonal accquaintance who will be-" She stopped midsentence, catching the pun a little too late. Catherine huffed and started over. "Excuse me. a personal accquaintance who is here to take my things to my living space." She then caught sight of four other people in the main room.

Leaning by a nearby couch was an Asian woman who looked like she had walked out of those magazines that Karkitty kept lying underneath his bed (Catherine loved to steal these magazines and replace them with some of her old Cat Fancy issues just to see his utterly enraged sputtering.) On the couch was a man with dark brown curly hair who had a hand at the side of his leg and a faintly pained expression. This immediately worried Catherine and she took a step towards him. She restrained herself from asking if he was alright, however, when she spied the orange bottle of painkillers in his hand. Catherine glanced at the others in the room; a grinning boy who didn't seem much older than her with hair done up in a spiky fauxmohawk and a big man who had half a face of melted wax. She stared at him for a moment, wondering how she could persuade him to let her feel his face.

She walked forward to introduce herself. If these were the other patients, she could take a more relaxed tone with them than the Doctor right? She gradually loosened the reigns on her smile.

"Hi there! I'm Catherine and I'll be in furrepy with you guys. Pleased to meet you," she said enthusiastically. "When can I put my stuff in my room? Karkitty over here is getting purrety tired lugging around my stuff."

"Hey, Fuckass," growled a voice behind her. Karkat had stalked over when he noticed him eyeing Catherine. "Yeah, I'm talking to you shit-licker. David Beckham called: he wants his scalp back."

"Why do I get the feeling we're all just going to get crazier while we're here?"

Theo glanced at Murphy for a moment. Honestly, she was starting to get the same feeling. Every once and awhile she could feel the little hairs on her arms stand up, for seemingly no reason at all. She was prone to hallucinations and strange feelings though, it was a side effect of never sleeping. The brain didn't power down so it started to go a little crazy.

But something just didn't...sit right in her stomach. And usually that wasn't a feeling she could ignore very well. She had good instincts for a crazy person...well, better when she'd had some sleep...it'd been, what, three nights since her last bout? Of course the signs were well covered by make-up but...More important things. Dr. Jones was returning to the room, with a couple following him.

“Not a problem Miss Delgado? Or do I need to hyphenate?” He was unsure, trying to remember back to her file, but shook it off. He was sure it would be of more importance at a later time. “We've all just arrived.”

Theo, from her spot on the couch, grinned at the introduction of the boyfriend. Karkat. What an interesting name. She, however, with her own broken english didn't recognize the cat-puns. She was thinking on that while Dr. Jones was politely introducing them.

She noticed the girls eyes travel over their group of misfits, landing only a bit longer on Murphy and the guy that reminded Theo of military movies. Catherine observed him like Theo did—with more of an interest than disgust of fear.

Theo, for one, was very interested in him. She loved scars. Maybe it was a sick sort of fascination, but every single one had a story behind them. And as brutal as she was sure his was, she wouldn't mind hearing it one day.

Her brows knit together as Catherine introduced herself. Furrepy? What? She was about to introduce herself, and maybe ask, when the boyfriend suddenly spoke up: "Hey, Fuckass,Yeah, I'm talking to you shit-licker. David Beckham called: he wants his scalp back."

For a moment Theo arched an eyebrow, thinking he was possibly talking to her, to which she was going to retort something about how that was no way to talk to a girl, and that Catherine wasn't even her type. Not that she wasn't pretty, but Theo had a thing for either guys or blondes. Even bisexual, she had types.

Then she realized he was actually talking to Seth, who burst into laughter the moment he realized it too. Whatever the insult was, it was lost on the foreigner in the room. She hadn't been in America long enough to pick stuff like that up. The curse words she got—first words she learned, even pressed together. But as for David Bekham and his scalp? Color her lost.

For a moment, she was actually frozen in her spot, watching Seth threateningly roll his arms. She figured he could take someone out pretty easily. She didn't want them to fight, but she kind of wanted to see it happen. Like when there was a car accident on the road—it was horrible, but oddly fascinating.

"I could drop you, skull fuck the shit out of whatever rocks you have rattling up there and have a fucking tea party with your corpse."

Theo snorted. That snapped her out of her trance. He was pretty damn funny for one thing, but that sounded a little more like her. Not that she'd honestly do it (she hoped) but she had some nasty daydreams sometimes. Usually associated with the amount of sleep she was or wasn't getting.

"JESUS! SHUT UP!"

Theo jumped about a mile in the air. She'd been right next to Murphy and hadn't expected the outburst at all. Granted she had a one tract mind and had been much more focused on the theatrics in front of her.

The room went oddly quiet as Murphy finished his rant off with one more request for everyone to shut up. She had half the mind to stand, put herself between the boys and push them away from each other, but she was very where aware of where she was, and there was a good chance touching Seth could set him off. What to? She didn't know. But it could happen. She didn't particularly like being touched either.

“Well then,” she said, finally breaking the silence. “We should...um...pick our...kotoba wa nani o noshi masu ..” she mumbled the last part to herself, very quietly, before sitting up suddenly. “Rooms. We should pick our rooms. Yes?”

She looked at Dr. Jones who nodded his confirmation before turning his attention to the extra male in the room. “Mr. Vantas, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Terribly sorry but...as you can see we have quite the...interestig group.”

---

[kotoba wa nani o noshi masu = what's the word]

Well. That had been something.

Jacob had watched, a safe distance away, as first a new couple arrived...then the explosion as a boyfriend's foolish jealousy met with a lunatic's raving madness. Things even looked like they might get physical for a moment- something a part of him almost hoped for...but then that kid with the ran over foot decided to be an adult. It was all for the best really, would be a shame to begin this with a visit from the local police.

His eyes swept across the gathered group, something the maniac had said echoing through his mind- "For all you know, I could be one of those cer-aaa-zy people" it was true, no one here knew anything about the others- save, of course, for the Doctor. His files would include notes on the various psychological issues present. But the rest? It was like a game of Blind Man's Bluff involving razorblades and pit-bulls- You felt about in the dark...always a breath away from danger.

Tempers set aside for a moment, the Asian girl had asked about the rooms- it was time to make himself heard.

"I second the thing about the rooms. Assuming of course you boys are done seeing who can pee the farthest?" he grins slightly, a sight not exactly pleasing on the eyes with his facial scarring- he almost resembled Two-Face from Batman...the laughing voice in his head giving more truth to that idea..it had it's own ideas about the tension built up in the group.

---

---

Well that escalated quickly.



Catherine grabbed Karkat as he lunged for Spiky McCrazyclaws, hooking her arms under his armpits and struggled to keep Karkat in place as he launched himself into one of his famous tantrums.

"OH. OKAY. YOU WANT TO HAVE TEA YOU DOUCHEBAGGING, IDIOTIC, BITCHFUCK? WELL HAPPY DAY, WE SHALL HAVE SOME GODDAMN TEA! MS. NESBITT HERE, WITH A GOURMET MIX OF PISS STONES STRAINED AND SIFTED BY SWISS ARTISAN HANDS FROM THE BLEEDING, CANCER-RIDDEN HEMORRHOIDS OF A MILLION MICROSCOPIC WEEPING LEPRECHAUNS, PREPARED IN AN ANTIQUE PORCELAIN PIECE ACQUIRED BY MY GREAT-GREAT GRANDMOM FROM THE DUKE OF FUCKASS THROUGH A STEADY EIGHT MONTH PAYMENT PLAN OF ASS-TO-MOUTH ORGIES WITH INTEREST; THE BREW'S REPULSIVE PISSSHITESQUE AROMA WAFTS GENTLY INTO YOUR HALF-PLUGGED NOSTRILS, MALFORMED FROM CENTURIES OF INCEST. HERE, ALLOW ME TO WRAP YOUR COCK IN A MINT-CONDITION COCKSLEEVE WORN BY THE SYPHILITIC WHORES OF FRANCE IN PREPARATION FOR MY SKULLFUCKING. I PROPOSE A TOAST: TO ALL THE RAINBOW COCKHUMPING WHINING FUCKS OF THE WORLD. AND WHEN WE RAISE THE VILE, SHIT-BROWN BREW TO OUR PARCHED LIPS I SHALL PAUSE AND ASK: WOULD YOU LIKE ONE SHIT LUMP OR TWO?"

Catherine was about to join the screaming match with her own harsh words for Karkitty when the boy with the pretty brown curls and the injured leg rose up.

"JESUS! SHUT UP"

The room was quiet. "The two of you need to just shut up. I mean we're here for what, a few minutes and already I've gotten hit by a cab and the two of you are going off you CAME here argue. Just settle down!" He looked at McCrazyclaws and Karkat "Come on now, you two don't even know each other, you get in the same room and are ready to start throwing punches. Now if neither of you feel the need to show off anymore, why don't you put 'em away, sit back down and just get f..."

Catherine saw him raise a hand to his head and the boy seemed in good need of a catnap. "Just get calm and let's at least finish the day out, huh? Now maybe I want for the day to end more than some of you so I can sleep through the pain in my leg, but the sun is already going down and we're all strangers to this place. Please, let's at least bring this night to a close before we start killing each other." She saw him rustle around for a smooth brown pipe which he stuck in his mouth like one of the old adventure-gallants she read in her forays into steam punk, except with less gallant and more "i-just-got-run-over-by-a-car."

Karkat slowly stopped writhing in her arms and Catherine let him go with a hard look. He looked away, face flush with a mixture of shame and guilt creeping over his face. But his remorse did nothing to assuage the anger and embarrassment blistering in Catherine's tummy like a bowl of leftover noodle soup

"Well then," spoke up the woman standing beside him. "We should um...pick our..." A brief stream of strange words followed and Catherine tilted her head in confusion. "Rooms. We should pick our rooms. Yes?"

Another voice caught Catherine's attention. "Mr. Vantas, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Terribly sorry but...as you can see we have quite the interesting group." Catherine saw Karkat open his mouth but she cut him off in as even a voice as she could muster.

"You will leave. Now," she said. Karkat blanched and swallowed his words. He gave a silent nod and let the bags he was holding lean gently against the couch. The half-faced man began to speak in a deep tone making it apparent that he was the eldest of the group perhaps excepting Dr. Jones.

"I second the thing about the rooms. Assuming of course you boys are done seeing who can pee the farthest?"

Karkat tensed but said nothing as he made an about face and walked to the door. "Bye Neps," he said quietly, his eyes not quite reaching hers. The feeling in her tummy bubbled away inside Catherine leaving an empty sigh in its place. She looked to the floor.

"Bye," she managed lamely.

"Yeah, whatever..." said McCrazyclaws. "Have a nice trip Karkitty. I'm sure Cat will have a ball here."

Catherine wheeled around on him with a soft swish of her heavy olive jacket. Suddenly, a white hot pang of fury shot through her. She stalked up to the boy, her small round face twisted in rage, until she was close enough to see the jagged pinkish-white scar running curving from his jaw to his collarbone. Catherine peered up at him, only about half a foot taller than her. Cat scratches? Purrfect. Her voice came in short hisses and her amber eyes flashed, sharp and narrow, from underneath her black bangs.

"You. Do not. Get to call him Karkitty. And you. Do not. Get to call me Cat."

---

---

Catherine continued to stare down McCrazyclaws with hate churning inside her as he folded his arms and stood his ground. The smell of his unwashed grungepunk clothes and mixed with the sharp tang of ammonia from his stupid hair dye; the aroma wafted over to her and she marked that scent as distinctly him.

"It's called freedom of speech chick. I'll say whatever I want." In the brief pause, she gauged how quickly she could hook a leg under him and send him sprawling and how much force would be necessary. Then he shot her a weird look that made her feel clammy and cold under her skin. "You might want to take a step back, Cat, unless of course, you're wanting something to happen." An ugly, shrunken little smile that stretched his lips so she could barely see the white of his teeth in the tiny gap. "I wouldn't blame you if you did."

She did take a step back. A bobbing sway backwards in a low stance.

"Shut up," she hissed as she drew to the right side in her capoeira bounce. Catherine swung to the left and swiveled to bring a foot hard and fast against McCrazyclaw's side, lost in the red haze. She wanted to feel the ribs pop against her heel. She wanted hear the little whoosh of air as his feet were suddenly swept from under him. She wanted to pounce on him and rake at his face and his neck and bite and claw and tear and and rip and kill and she felt a hand firmly stop her in her tracks. She recoiled from the touch and jerked back with a quick gasp.


“Be that as it may,” Dr. Jones spoke up suddenly, laying a hand on the new girls shoulder. “Let's try not to be so hostile on our first day, hm? We still have rooms to pick. Perhaps a little alone time would be too bad.”

Slowly, the red haze faded, replaced by a curious feeling of nyan. Wordlessly, she slowly made her way up to a random room, with her stuff in hand. She flopped onto a random bed somewhere on the second floor. She slept.

Well.

This place was tense as fuck.

And that was putting it lightly. Already there had almost been not one...but two fist fights. Yeah, this was gonna be fun. Stuck in a place where the only person near his age...was the doctor. This was just going to be a hoot. Oh, wait. The kids these days...did they even say 'Hoot' anymore? He didn't think so. Shaking his head he simply made his way past the babble and up the stairs. He wanted to get into his room. Get a closed door between him and the rest. Get some quiet.

"Fuckin kids.." he muttered selecting an open room that looked like it had seen better days, cleaner days. It would do. Patting the dust out of the sheets first he then sat his belongings down on it's surface. This would be fine. Wasn't like he was planning on bedding down one of the..what..two chicks they had to select from. This shitty room was just where he would be sleeping, and or avoiding the bag of cats he was stuck with.

"I should have brought some booze. I'm gonna need it, the way these brats carry on." he sighed, sliding his things to the far side and laying down. He only meant to close his eyes, but in moments he was out. Sleep camefast and deep...

His dream was a chaos filled horror show. Death everywhere, both people he knew and ones he didn't- some of the faces were those of the bratty kids at this retreat. Blood was everywhere, smoke filled the air, something terrible had happened. Seeing a survivor he rushes over to ask what had happened, only to be faced with some...thing...it's hair a blazing halo of fire, and it's eyes likewise filled with inferno. The rest of the face is a blur..but those eyes...they filled him with a cold dread.

He woke up coated in sweat...panting.

This place was tense.