Introduction

All you know is this: it all started when you woke up in a dark, empty room. You could not remember who you were, why you were there, or any details about the outside world. All you knew was the nondescript room and the 5 people you shared it with. In moments, you notice a bloody, disfigured girl in the corner. A seventh person... but, she is dead. Killed with heinous violence. Looking around at the others, all streaked with her blood, everyone has the same revelation: one of the six present is a murderer. The problem is, even the culprit him/herself doesn't remember anything before waking up moments before.

When anyone could be a killer, how do these people react as the paranoia spreads? As they live in the surrounding prison, attempting to discover their pasts, and the killer? Many questions are asked...but as for the answers, only time will tell.

Unfortunately for them, their story is a long one.

This is the infamous locked room, completely empty. When looking out the windows, no matter the time, nothing is visible through the indefinite, dense fog.

After escaping the room, there is only a hallway. Along the hallway is a series of unlocked and locked doors. Cells, large enough to hold two people. There are not enough for everyone to have their own, for only three are open.

One of the cells...

At the end of the hallway, there is a large vault-like door. At least a foot thick. Should they ever get past it, they'll find out more of the outside world.

Please RESERVE in the OOC thread. No character knows anything about themselves. They know nothing—not their name, nor age, nor eye color...nothing. Just a number tattooed on their thumb, like a fingerprint. However, they do have pasts, and there are special *things* about some pasts. This is how it's going to work. I've compiled a list of numbers, and using a random number generator, I've assigned roles to these numbers. These are secret as of now. I used a random number generator to assign myself a number, so you may pick from the remaining five. Another death may or may not occur. If your character dies, you'll receive a new role from the OUTSIDE.

*INSIDE CHARACTERS*
1. Female
2. Male
3. Male
4. Male
5. Female
6. Male (Taken. I am #6)

When the time comes, I'll randomly select a number, and the murderer will be notified in PM. All those with specialized roles will be notified of their respective characteristics.

*OUTSIDE CHARACTERS*
These characters will not be introduced until a little later. But, the slots need to be filled nonetheless. These are people OUTSIDE the prison, who actually know what's going on INSIDE it. Most of these people will receive a PM with generous details of the big picture, each relative to their little piece of the plot, and will be allowed to post obscure riddles to taunt you all. Eventually, we'll have a mystery plot OUTSIDE that may or may not be related to the INSIDE plot. At least one of these will enter the prison--as a general rule, everyone who enters the prison has their memory wiped. Some of these characters may or may not die.

001. Male
002. Female
003. Female
004. Female
005. Male

Your character knows nothing of themselves, so... this will be vague. You will revise it as things are revealed to you. Also, though I do have specific roles, you get to create a backstory based on that role. I give you a vague key word/phrase and let you run wild. For instance, the murderer would get creative and elaborate on how they murdered her. Or, they may never remember. Hm...

*INSIDE CHARACTER*
Real Name: (Ominous being knowledge--won't be used until later...)
Speculated name or nickname:
Speculated age:
Sex:
Images: (MUST be real people. NO animated pictures whatsoever.)
Role: (#1, #3, etc...)
Backstory: (Leave this blank for now. You will revise it as time goes on.)
Personality: (This is also blank--no one knows anything about your character.)

*OUTSIDE CHARACTER*
Name:
Age:
Sex:
Role: (004, 005, etc...)
Personality: (Optional: If you fill it out, make it good.)
Backstory: (Leave blank until I PM you with your role.)
Images: (MUST be real people. NO animated pictures whatsoever.)

Toggle Rules

Please note: People may take more than one character. Keep in mind, though, if someone opts for an INSIDE and OUTSIDE character, parts of the plot will be revealed to them, and they'll have to play their IN character with believable ignorance. Also, this idea is completely my own. BUT, I would like to point out I was inspired by another RP to do a you-only-know-as-much-as-your-character-type roleplay. So...yeah.

Swearing is greatly encouraged! I swear quite a bit, so please... join me. No restrictions on content, beyond common sense. To put it very briefly, I condone and encourage all the following: violence, romance, profanity, detailed posts, no powerplaying, no god modding, active participation (shoot for daily posts), literate posts, the usual.

Keep in mind this isn't exactly first come first serve. I will accept characters I deem intriguing and well suited for the job. Unfortunately, I don’t know anything about them! I usually accept people based on their characters, but considering this special situation…

I ask that you provide an example of your roleplaying skills. If you’re in another roleplay here, I'll just look through and read one. If you are not in another roleplay here, just stick a link to one of the posts in the character sheet.

It's like application for a job interview. I want GOOD roleplayers for this. Experienced people. I may reject someone, and don’t take it personally. If there’s someone who’s a good roleplayer, and there are no more roles, I can make more. Just drop me a line. And feel free to ask me questions regarding anything; I'm all ears.

I detest one liners. So, I have a five sentence minimum for every post. I'm not going to count your sentences, of course, but keep it in mind. I think this is doable in most every situation if you provide some insight to what your character thinks and such. I've had people write all dialogue before, and I can't say I like it. Characters have minds. I like to know what's going on in them, even if its a lie.

Which brings me to another point. It's okay to lie, betray, fight, and all that. I once had someone play as my character's close friend for about a month, real life time, building a relationship outwardly and inwardly with thoughts. Then, in one post, he completely changed sides and turned out to be working with an enemy. It was the single most shocking and interesting moment in all my years of roleplay. I never saw it coming. It's very interesting when a character's thoughts are deceptive and misleading, as they're supposed to be only known by the character. So one would assume it to be true, right? Heh.

I have a general outline set out for this plot, but there is a lot of wiggle room. Once I PM everyone with their “roles” and/or special “characteristics,” you can play with it. Lets say you’re the murderer. You can make an elaborate backstory of how you premeditated it and plan to kill others. If you are NOT the murderer, you can become one, and possibly frame another for it. As a writer, you can kill your own character, thus forcing another into the role of a (randomly chosen) killer. You don’t need a person’s okay to kill a character, as it doesn’t work that way in real life, but there are limits. You can’t kill the person’s next character, unless they’re okay with it. Give them a break. Plus, you may have to deal with a little in-story karma…

When a person’s character is killed, they can either leave the roleplay, or get a new character from the OUTSIDE. This new character could potentially stay OUTSIDE, or move INSIDE. It depends. All roles are randomly chosen.

I've seen many roleplay OP's say something like, "talk to me before starting any big drama!" I never liked that. I never really liked that at all. You can start whatever you like. Fights, torture, killing, romance drama, and whatever, is fair game. You can't stop people from starting drama in real life, so why do it in a role play? Really.

As always, no powerplaying whatsoever. Unless specific consent is given. Be reasonable and don't god-mod. Get hit in fights and be mindful of common sense and logic. For fights, strength isn't everything, meaning the weaker one won't always lose. Be smart about it.

Look, if you post a character and I accept him/her, it's too late to ditch. I've had people do that. It isn't acceptable. But, especially don't ditch once the story has started. This is the most important thing. Do not ditch! Drill it in your mind! If you really need to leave, let us kill off your character. Don't just disappear. You need to try you BEST to post daily. Even if it's just one post. Even if its just "OOC: I can't post right now I'm drowning in calculus but I'll get back tomorrow." Whatever. Let us know you're alive. Let us know if you have to leave for a few days. Common courtesy. Feel free to rant if the power went out or Internet went down. It happens to everyone, and I get that. I can miss days, so I won’t kill others for doing the same, but this is generally pretty dedicated. Everyone is more or less important, so… we need you.

Now, unlike a lot of people, I don't mind if the story goes on when I'm not on. If it's just you and someone else going back and forth for a while, that's okay. It's what recaps are for. Just be mindful and try to make it possible for others to work their characters back in when they get on. Don't have three days randomly pass or something like that.

I may have said this, but it's okay to betray the fellow inmates. You can go insane. You and another person can mess with everyone else. You and two other people can turn on the others. You can all simultaneously betray each other in one big deceptive mess. Bring on the battle of wits! I will screw you all over, so don't be afraid to do it back or aid me in my attempts. Evil laugh, anyone? Mwahaha. Just be mindful of what parts of the plot I reveal/assign to you and don’t stray from it. You may hint to the others, but don’t give too much away at a time.

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Cell Block by Zander

[img]http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3505/3901901015_1a792748d2.jpg[/img]

The Room by Zander

The empty, locked room where everyone woke up and found the girl murdered.

Paranoia Prison by Zander

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Character Portrait: Samantha Walker, "Jane"

Character Portrait: Zachary Emmerson (Bane)

Character Portrait: Tristiny Josephina Dusev

Character Portrait: Rebecca Evans "Friz"

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The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 7 authors

TwistedSong: 27.62% paokikipao: 19.01% WalterF: 15.03% Thadine: 12.02% thech: 11.48% Zander: 8.67% Nami L'Chi: 6.17%

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#2013-05-08 04:35:05, as written by Zander

Now, as fate would have it, his life was totally fucked up from that day on. It was the most… abhorrence of a day there ever was. It stared something like this:

First of all, he was out cold. Completely unaware of his surroundings. Then, he stirred. Not much; in fact, he barely moved… but it was enough. His hand brushed against the hard surface below him—the floor—and promptly became coated in some wet, sticky substance. Even in his mostly-unconscious state, his brow furled. Within a minute, he was almost awake. What the hell is this?

Finally opening his eyes, he stared vacantly at the sight before him. It was… it…was… Oh my god!

It was his hand. Doused in…ketchup? Whatever he was expecting, it wasn’t that. To make things even weirder, he pushed himself up into a sitting position. Damn, his head hurt. Imagine the hangover from hell, intensify it 3 fold, and then imagine banging your head against the wall instead of taking coffee. Got it? Can you envision it? Good. That wasn’t it at all. HIS headache, it was more like… wait—who is “he,” exactly?

Well, that’s the problem. Maybe it was just his throbbing cranial muscle, but he swore he couldn’t quite remember who the hell he was. How did he get here, anyway? Where was here? Damn.

Glancing around, he noticed there were other people. A lot of people. Counting them, he saw there was 22. Wait—no, his bad. There were 11. Cut the guy some slack, he was seeing double. He was extremely hungry, too. Hungrier than hell. What kind of hangover was this? What the hell did he get high on? He couldn’t remember ever getting high on anything. Was he a drugged fool? Eh, who knows. Oh, the ketchup.

Looking back, he was pretty sure he wasn’t THAT stupid, but hey. Wake up with amnesia and a piercing migraine and see what you do. He soon realized it wasn’t ketchup, though. Did he scream in terror like a crazed tween fan girl? Yes. Yes he did. There’s no shame in that, either. Why? He did it INWARDLY. In his fuzzy hangover brain. Except, now he was pretty sure he got jumped, not drunk. Outwardly, he was a stupefied statue. Literally, he kept very still, staring down his bloodied hand like it was going to eat him.

One minute passed. Two minutes. Wait for it—cue look of utter mortification.

Oh, I’m not done, either. It gets better. Being the somewhat intelligent being he was, he came to gather a tiny shred of curiosity. Was it his blood? Where did it come from? He gingerly moved his hand, feeling the slick substance between his fingers like oil. As he finally realized he was fine—thank god—he looked around. It seemed everyone had blood on them.

But one stood out. There was this one girl simply marinated in the stuff. I mean marinated—you couldn’t make out anything. He squinted in the darkened room, trying to utilize the hazy light entering through three windows to his left. It was then he noticed how disfigured the girl—he thought it was a girl—was. When he leaned in closer, it became apparent she was dead. DEAD.

Cue freakout in 3…2…1… “FUCK!” It came out before he could even think. What if the killer was around? Sucking in a caustic breath, he scanned everywhere. EVERYWHERE. A door. Oh, sweet, sweet, sugar cookie—it was a door. He immediately sprang up, taking a moment to wipe his hand off on an unconscious individual. Seconds later, his hand closed on the frigid knob.

Locked.

Well, shit. To make matters worse, people were stirring. These mysteriously unknown people. THEY could be the murderer, for all he knew. Obviously, the sensible thing was to trust no one. And boy, was he sensible. At least—he tried to be.

What if they think HE’S the killer? He WAS the first one up… Crap—they might attack him, then the REAL culprit would get off scotch free… What solution did he have to this?

Simple. Dive bomb the ground and feign unconsciousness. Just until more people woke up.

The setting changes from The Room to Paranoia Prison

Setting

Paranoia Prison

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#2013-05-08 07:21:34, as written by Thadine

| Cael Fionn | Stray |

Amongst the darkness of some amazing, widespread void, consciousness began to seep in, like light entering a tunnel. However, the gloom seemed heavy, like he was swimming underwater in full clothing, each movement only pulling him back into the abyss. He drifted in and out of this state a few times, coming so close to the surface, only to be tugged back by whatever force was causing this. Then suddenly, he was awake.

However, he didn’t open his eyes. No, he just focused on the stimuli around him, the pain in his head, the aching of his body, and the smooth surface underneath his fingertips. The discomfort in his mind washed in and out like waves, the pain pulsing rhythmically. After awhile, the feeling became almost soothing, like the sound and feel of a steady heart-beat that could easily lull a child to sleep. He almost wandered back into the shadows of his mind, yet something kept him awake. Not his discomfort or pain, but rather a feeling nestled somewhere inside him. A feeling that spoke, saying, “something is wrong.”

He moved his fingertips ever so slightly, brushing them along the ground. Shards of pain jolted up his arm, and he winced. At that motion, light came piercing in, and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly, curling his fingers inwards. His nails scraped along the surface he was laying on, and he felt the coldness. In fact, his whole body was cold, as if he were frozen from the inside, bones and all, ready to shatter at any instant movement. He breathed in. He moved his arm slightly, tried to focus in on what was going on around him. After a few minutes passed, which seemed like hours, he had decided that he better open his eyes, even if the light would hurt.

Opening them suddenly, he was blinded by radiance all around him. Blinking a few times cleared his head, and he looked around from his stationary position, not moving his body at all. He was staring at a wall. It was a deep gray colour. Tilting his head slightly, he glared out of the corner of his eyes at the floor. Gray as well. However, something else caught his attention. A splatter of something dark on the ground that reached up to part of the wall, glinting in the bit of light that spilled from a window above. It looked like paint at first, though its consistency was a bit too thick and the colours were uneven. There were some patches that were bright red, others that were brown. Who would paint a small area of a room like that?

With the bit of strength he could muster, he placed both hands flat on the ground, and lifted himself off the floor, working into a sitting position. He instantly fell back towards the wall, banging his head on the hard surface. He let out a quiet curse, reaching a hand up to rest it on the injury. It was at this moment he tried to make sense of things. Why had he been laying on the floor? He was never so un-organized as to end up in any other place than his own bed. Why was he hurting? Letting his eyes move around the room, he spotted a bunch of other people, lying on the ground, all seeming to be either asleep or knocked unconscious. How the hell did he get here? He shut his eyes for a moment and ran his hand through his hair, though his fingers caught in something. Brows knit together, he moved his fingers, feeling something crusty and hard caught in his hair. Bringing his hand down in front of his vision, the substance that was on his hand was dark brown, similar to the colour that was splattered on the wall. Looking for an explanation, he turned his head to look back at the sprinkled surface, only to focus on something entirely different.

Someone was lying against the wall right beside him, covered in the paint as well. He didn’t react right away, rather narrowed his eyes to look over this person. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that underneath the paint were various wounds, cuts and gouges, bruises and swollen areas from what were probably broken and fractured bones. His eyes wandered up, locking onto the face of the victim. Their eyes were open too, though milky and cloudy. Suddenly, he realized it wasn’t paint in his hair and on this person sitting beside him.

It was blood.

He jumped suddenly, scrambling away from the body and further along the wall, his gaze locked on it as if he expected it to get up and come after him. It did not move, and internally, he yelled at himself for thinking of something as irrational as that. The feeling of dread inside of him grew even more, and he searched his mind, trying to find something to explain this. To explain the body, the people, his pain, the room, everything…however, it was blank. He tried to think back to last week. Yesterday. A few hours ago. His thoughts simplified even more. His name, his age, what he looked like.

No answers came. Panic flared inside of him, and he let out a strangled breath, still focusing on the body. His view changed to all of the people lying down. Some of them had blood on them too. In fact, most of them did. His eyes wandered to the door that sat at the opposite end of him, and he struggled to his feet, a hand still on the wall for support. He started towards the door, unsure of his footing, stepping over the people still lying down. His foot met the stomach of someone, and he muttered a quiet “sorry” even though he was sure that they wouldn’t hear.

He placed his hand on the door knob and twisted.

Defeat. It was locked.

He turned and slid down to the floor, leaning against the wall once again. Multiple scenarios and possibilities of what could have happened began playing in his head, like a movie. However, he doubted every single one of them. He’d have to wait for others to wake up before he could question them, and see if they could remember anything.

Setting

Paranoia Prison

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#2013-05-08 08:53:19, as written by Nami L'Chi

Groaning he would rub the back of his head. Weird party... He'd think trying to wake himself up. His eyes wouldn't open, it was like they were glued shut. His hands felt sticky, almost as if he were laying in oil. He dared not touch his eyes while unsure of what was on his fingers. Slowly he'd work his eyes open mentally cursing himself as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. He would lay there, unsure of where he was.

Comeon... think... last place you were...was... uh.... His thoughts hit a speed bump. Where was the last place he was? Slowly he'd get himself into a sitting position, looking down at his gloved hands. On his fingertips, the sticky liquid still there. Bringing his fingers up to his nose, he'd scrunch it up. Smelled more like Iron than anything. Looking around he'd notice a girl a few feet away. He'd try standing, almost tripping on another person, who seemed to be unconscious. Hesitantly he'd try stepping over the person in his leather boots.

Didn't know I liked leather so much. He'd think to himself, as he realized he was wearing a leather vest, leather pants, and leather gloves and boots. A star necklace hung on his neck. Though he seemed to be shirtless. He'd wipe the sticky/iron smelling substance on his leather pants and continue making his way to the woman. She seemed to be covered in the same substance as his hands... well now pants were. "Hey..." He'd whisper, careful not to disturb the others. The woman didn't seem to respond, though she did seem to be harmed physically. Bruises, scraches, cuts, all down her body, then it hit him. He'd look around the room, everything and everyone was covered in this substance. It wasn't oil...it was blood. He resisted the urge to gag, as he looked back at her. She was dead... and he was covered in what he assumed was her blood.

He'd back away to a far corner, trying to see if there was a way out the window... nope... not one. He'd look around for a way to escape, he wasn't going to be in here, not with all these people... and not with all this blood. I don't need to be around a dead body... no sirie... not me... He thought as he spotted a door. Sweet Escape! He'd think to himself enthused about a way out of this asylum. His happiness was short lived however, the door was locked.

His eyes scanned the room until he saw someone curled up against a wall. Making an 'are you kidding me' face he'd exclaim. "Don't tell me you're dead too.." His voice seemed to echo throughout the room. That's all he needed, really... lets wake people up... I'm sure they'll be happy to see their alarm clock...a man... with... he paused his thoughts, checking his hair, a man with black hair covered in leather, and blood...yeah they'll be happy to know he woke them up.

They'll think I killed them... He thought thinking the other person against the wall was dead as well.

What a fun... day? Night? This was....perfect...fucking perfect.

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Paranoia Prison

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#2013-05-08 18:37:47, as written by WalterF

Anna Hielma, "Phi"

Pounding… Pounding. That was all she felt. Nothing but darkness, and pain. Urrgh… ow… what… what happened to me? No, no, forget that. Just open your eyes. Just, open… open your- Her eyes snapped open and she let out a long gasp. She was lying on a very strange floor. Nothing she had ever felt before. Facing a wall, she immediately tried to thrust herself up onto her knees, but was stopped halfway.

“Aaahh! My head!” she moaned, suddenly stopping as she reached her knees. She knelt over in almost a prayer position, covering her head. “What… what happened to me?” she whispered softly. Think, think. You were… what had she been doing? Sitting at home? No… Walking to her boyfriend’s place? No… she didn’t know she even had a boyfriend. What had… where did she live? What was her job? Who… who was she? The supposedly nineteen year old girl slowly rolled back onto her side and opened her eyes to the blank wall in front of her.

“Think… think…” she murmured to herself. “What… who am I?” she racked her brain, but it was a clean slate. Nothing was there. Just a throbbing pain in the center of it, like a virus that had eaten everything she knew about her life. Her breathing quickened. Amnesia seemed like the most logical reason for her forgetting everything, but even the thought of that… it made her feel like a spider being held by one leg over a bottomless pit. Like anything could happen, a gust of wind to push her from the human’s grip and drop her into the terrifying unknown.

It’s alright. Just… don’t think about that. Her eyes slowly examined herself, and she gave another start. Blood. All over her. And her favorite clothes, too! Wait… those were her favorite clothes? She couldn’t remember that she liked striped shirts and jeans… at least the tennis shoes were untouched. Maybe she had been walking around when she was… kidnapped? Wait… next question. Where was she?

Slowly she rolled over to her other side and lifted herself up on one weak arm, carefully making sure her brain didn’t explode into any more pain. There… her eyes widened. She had never seen this room before, but that wasn’t what caught her attention. Immediately her eyes were drawn to the girl over in that… Quickly she threw her free hand over her mouth and looked away, trying hard not to gag or puke. That girl was dead, and covered in blood. Is her blood on my clothes…? slowly she looked at the ten or so other people in the room. Most of them appeared to be unconscious, except there was one person standing up. Who is he…?

Once the rest of the people had woken up, they had better not think that her bloodstained clothes gave her the mark of guilt. The door was over there, but obviously it was locked. Otherwise why would that man be staying here? Any normal person would run from a room with a bunch of unconscious people, one dead. Slowly, without so much as acknowledging anything on the outside, she rolled onto her bottom in a sitting position and scooted back to the wall, leaning her aching head against it. This needed to be a dream. It needed to, it needed to… This couldn’t be real. There was no possible way in the world. Her chest rose quickly as she drew in large breaths. Calm down, she just needed to calm down. Wait for it to end, and then go back to whatever normal life she had.

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Paranoia Prison

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#2013-05-08 19:44:08, as written by TwistedSong

The first thing he saw as he slowly opened his eyes was the ceiling. The black rotten ceiling that seem like to went through ages. Then he finally noticed after awhile, that he had been laying down... on the ground? What? Since when did he sleep on the ground? Since when he is here at the first place? He slowly tried to move his hand, that was somehow heavy to get it moved. His head ache like crazy, somehow it felt like he had been sleeping for some damn long time. He managed to lift his arm and get it on his forehead. Warm. Did he have a fever? Wait what?

He stared at his hands very confused. Black? Was is just because this room was bad lighted or because...? As he wanted to change position looking around, his head gave him a very clear sign of opposition. It ached so much, that he slumped on the ground again and sighed while still staring at his hand, that seem to be the only part of his body that he could move right now. He was black skinned. Not white. He guessed that someone like... wait, it's him! Why the hell didn't he know that he had black skin? Is he finally gone nuts? ... Who was he in the first place? He doesn't even remember his own name! How fucked up is that?

After awhile wondering by himself, but still not coming to any conclusion, he felt that the pain faded a bit and he could finally sit up that took him most of his strengh and looked around. Where was he? He should go and find out about it fi-..., before he could end his thought, he finally noticed the people that was inside the room with him. They seem to be... in the quite same state. But he couldn't help but wanting to ask about all of this, wanted to clear things up. It seemed not to be that easy though. They seem to be all stranger to him... but at the same time, he somekind can relate them to something, but that 'something' vanished again for some seconds, as he gave up and the headache faded again.

Then he spotted the girl. The bloody girl in the corner.

No, he didn't recognize it was a corpse right away. Who would? But the sweet smell in the air he could guess how better his state was. This is crazy..., he thought for himself, was confused, scared and everything that someone in his position could feel... like wanting to break, wanting to escape...

I am black, so what?

He didn't know why that thought came up to him so suddenly, but because of it, he bit his lips and tried to find some things he could collect and so trying to understand what, where, why and who he was. And finally, how that girl in the corner end up in that state she is now. Seeing her, there was no doubt that someone killed her.

Someone killed her. Among these people. His glance went through the room, his heart beating fast like crazy, as he wanted to jump out of his body. Nothing. He can't remember nothing, and as he felt remembering, his headache came back again and distract him. It was impossible. But he knew, he should go out of this room. He should go out and find someone call the police or something... On other thought, it was better that he didn't call the police. It wouldn't be right..., somehow, he thought, not really understanding the reason he felt like so.

For now, he slowly slip behind, finally feeling a wall at his back, not quitting to stare everybody else. Then he slowly got up on his legs, sliding his back up from the wall and felt a very sharp feeling behind. Shocked, he whirled around, just seeing a window.

Window? Eagerly he looked outside, but didn't saw anything. A thick fog was making him not seeing anything... it was a very scary thought. "FUCK! Where the hell am I? DAMNIT!" He made a huge noise as he punched at the window, wanting to forget it all, wanting to escape this situation... Why he was being kept inside this? Was that girl... was that girl not the only one who died, will someone else be killed or more importantly, will HE be killed? A shiver went through his body as he sit down again, looking to the door in front of him, not too far away but for him, still unreachable. His eyes went blank, he couldn't think anymore.

He needed something... to clear up things. He went up and slendered to the door, not hoping much out of it. And yes, he just saw a hallway..., noticing some people already were up before him, not very far away from him but still not very near so he could see their faces. Were they... the murders? A panic attack came across him and he slowly whirled back and tried to open the nearest door he could find, but still, it was locked. He tried to open another one, with the same bad luck. He sweared, stealing glances to the people who were standing in the hallways, who doesn't made a move to catch him. Was he wrong? Were they not the murders?

He was confused, very confused. His head ached. His whole body trembled and his heart was beating like crazy, so he decided to lean on the wall, still stealing glances to those people in the hallway. Played with the thought, to ask them, what the hell was going on.

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#2013-05-09 03:39:17, as written by thech

Jules Shen

In the dark, in her mind, everything was out of focus. The longer she concentrated on the moment, a humming sound grew louder until a soft high pitched voice could be heard. A child's voice, echoing in song through her head hauntingly. Trying to make out the song, she faintly realized that it wasn't in English but rather just full of weird sounds mashed together. Her head, now light with air, focused onto the light that slowly brightened in the atmosphere, a little more at every interval, at the glow of a heartbeat.

Then all at once, just as the light was slowly burning at a modest shade, it burst out into a stinging fluorescent white and burned into her vision.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Her eyes, still closed, shone with stars and her body impulsively jerked forward. With her consciousness already seeping back into her body, she felt completely surprised at the stimuli of this new environment; which was so different from the fluffy hanging atmosphere in her head. A second passed and her eyes opened, and her vision fixed on her right toe, neatly tucked into her strappy footwear. The pupils of her eyes hurriedly dilated and her mind flooded into reality.

'What time is it?'

At the corner of her eye, she spotted an accident; a dark brown patch on the far right corner of her foot. Without much of a thought, she felt herself lurch forward over her knees as she tucked them upwards so that she could reach her right foot better. She grazed her finger over the brown patch, only to realize that it was some sort of dried crusty substance.

And just as she turned, she noticed the smell. The smell of rust coated with a slick scent rose into her nostrils. Automatically, she turned to the sourced of the smell, darting from right to left. Her elbow was stained in red from the smudged pool of blood on her right, and on her left, bodies laid on the floor, possibly about 6 or 7, and a few others slugging around, all strangers, not seeming to know what is going on.

She slowly slid her right leg upwards and pushed herself up onto her feet. Just then, did she realize that she was wearing 4-inch heels, sewed with comfortable blue material. Glancing to her left, she trudged towards the person closest to her when the corpse caught her sight. She instantly knew something was wrong with that one body. All the other bodies were somehow apparent of live whereas this one girl was completely still, covered with a large amount of blood, and her skin, pale like cold marble.

She did not need to go closer to confirm this and she did not want to. Her eyes scanned around the room and locked on the two young men who were reaching for the other people on the floor. Picking up speed, she rushed towards them, discovering the throbbing pain in her ankle. She whimpered softly under her breath before continuing on towards the other people. About 5 steps forward, she tripped and landed on her knees. Furiously, she tore at her heels and knotted the straps together before wrapping it around her wrist.

At that moment, she caught sight of another body sitting up against the wall. She walked closer to the girl and tapped her shoulder.

"Are you alright?"

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#2013-05-09 14:28:24, as written by WalterF

Phi

There were some noises as she just sat there, waiting for this dream to end. Movement, obviously by some other people wakening. She didn't care. There was no way she was interacting with the phantoms of her mind. Someone started cursing, and it made her jump when the loud smack of fist hitting window sounded out. Curling up, she squeezed her eyes further shut.

It's just a dream, it's just.... just a dream. Don't worry, it'll all... all be over soon. The pounding in her head sounded like a huge bass drum in her ears and felt like an elephant was sitting on her skull. This was the most realistic dream she had ever seen. What plagued her mind was not that it was a dream- she had figred that much out already.

Who am I? Where could this possibly be? And, why am I dreaming about a place I've obviously never been to? could this be some weird place she had visited as a child, but didn't remember regrardless? Or perhaps she had been here, and it had changed dramatically. In any case it wasn't a friendly place.

She jumped as someone tapped her on the shoulder. Are you alright? she heard a female voice speak to her. Jerking her gaze up, she automatically opened her teary eyes to see a dark-haired woman looking at her. The other seemed to be just as worn out and as much in pain as she was. Could this be for real? Was it not a dream?

The girl couldn't help herself. Blinking back the tears in her eyes, she spoke as loudly as her screaming head would allow her, which was, in reality, not very loud at all. "Of course I'm not all right! Do you realize what... what situation we're in? There's a .... a dead girl over there and... and... we could... we could be next!" Forced to bite her lip to keep from crying, she turned her face away from the woman, down into her knees. This was all too much. This dream needed to end. now.

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#2013-05-09 16:25:19, as written by thech

She jerked back when the girl snapped. For some reason, she felt the need to maintain control of herself, reasoning that if she freaked out, she'll only make things worse. In her head, thoughts flurried to explain what's happening. She tried recalling information from before the accident when she realized that she couldn't summon any memories at all. There was no recollection of this place, or of the other people in the room, or even her name.

She nervously glanced down at her arms before her, trying to picture herself.

'I don't even know my face..'
'What's my name?'

Straining her brain for some information about herself, she tried to recall what she was doing or where she was before she woke up in this dodgy room. Her eyes darted around the room, consciously avoiding the dead body. Inside, she was shaking. All she really wanted to do was curl into a ball in some corner until someone came for them.

'Is that what we are? Are we prisoners in this place? Who knows we're here? Are we all here to die?' she thought to herself as she watched the two other people in the room. She had not checked the door, or the windows but she was so sure that something was wrong... apart from the dead girl and unconscious people in the room.

Her thoughts trailed off for a few minutes before her attention abruptly focused on the girl once more.

"You don't know that for sure..." She bent down in front of the girl and shared a reassuring smile. Deep inside, she felt desperate to be reassured herself, fear suddenly creeping into her body, from the dead girl in the corner and her memory loss. For minutes, she stared at the girl in front of her. With her face deeply tucked into her knees, the girl was trying hard to hold back tears.
"We just need to find a way out of here. We need to stay calm and collected. Nothing good will come out of fear. Come on." She said, trying to summon strength and bravery, for the girl and herself, but mostly for herself.

With whatever was left, she pushed the thoughts of darkness and fear away from thought, like as though her life depended on it. But for some reason, she was convinced that her life did depend on something, but it was not something she herself could alter or affect.

She stood up and looked down at the girl, her hand stretched out towards her, palm upwards and open.

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#2013-05-10 14:30:51, as written by WalterF

For several minutes, all she did on the outside was shake and desperately choke back her tears. Nothing about any of this dream made sense. In a room she didn't know, with total amnesia, and even though one girl was trying to help her, she had at first refused to play with the phantoms in her dream. At least... at least when she woke up, she could just tell herself it was all something her mind made up, and she could go back to normal.

And, what was most disconcerting to her was that she couldn't even picture her own face. What did she look like? Was she ugly and hideous, or a beautiful young woman? Could that play as a factor assuming that the other people in her dream saw her and weighed her as a possible killer of that other girl? REally, no matter what she looked like that would be a possibility...

"We just need to find a way out of here. We need to stay calm and collected. Nothing good will come out of fear. Come on." Wait... had she just said something logical and rational...? No one in her dreams ever did that.... they usually spouted strange nonsense that made sense in the context, but never when projected against reality. Slowly she looked up at the woman to find her holding a hand toward her. This caused her tearstained eyes to widen.

This... could this be real? No. It wasn't. There was no way she was going to accept that. But, it seemed her dream wasn't going to have her sit against a wall and wait it out. Perhaps playing along with her dream would help it end sooner... With a shaky, slow hand, she reached out and took the woman's hand, surprised at how cold her own felt against the other woman's.

"I..." she licked her lips and took a deep breath, trying to calm her shaking body. Her head still beat a tattoo inside her head, but she managed to speak quietly to the other woman. "C-can... can y-y-ou not r-r-remember yo-ur name to-oo?" the nineteen year old stammered out, now squeezing the other woman's hand hard to stop herself from trembling.

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#2013-05-10 23:56:02, as written by paokikipao

She stood motionless with her eyes closed, something was wrong and that much she knew. Her head was burning in pain, and she could only hear distant noises that echoed through her troubled mind; whispers, sobs, and who know what else. Even when the noises intensified and made her anxious, she was frighten to open her eyes. Exactly what happened? was all she could ask. Pain struck her as the noises intensified; someone hit a surface hard enough to make her scream in pain, she thought , she gasped and struggled to breath for a moment, something is definitely wrong here she whispered to herself.
She remained quiet for a while and focused on her surroundings, she remained quiet trying to figure out what was happening without ever opening her eyes to actually ‘see’ what was going on. However, her troubled breathing made it impossible for her to focus. Despite her inner dispute as to whether she should remain quiet or open her eyes she noticed something else. Her hands were covered in something she couldn't quite understand. Her fingertips touched her surroundings and discovered nothing but a tick liquid covering her fingers. In surprise she finally opened her eyes, only wishing she could close them again the second her eyes laid down on the girl who was merely standing a few ft away from her. The girl stood motionless covered in nothing but blood, the same blood that now covered her hands.

"It’s not real! It’s not real, none of this is real!" she yelled at the sight of the dead woman, This is a nightmare, and it will all be over soon she reassured herself while hugging herself in look for reassurance. She then noticed she was not alone, males and females stood not so far from where she stood. She wanted to ask them what they knew when endless questions came running through her mind. Who? What? When? Where? Why?

Who killed her?
Who is she?
Who am I?!
Who are they?!
What just happened?
What am I doing here?
Where am I?
………

She finally opened her mouth but only the sounds of her voice chocking were audible, she grabbed her neck in pain not knowing the source of the problem. Not knowing she was having an attack, more specifically an asthma attack.

OOC: Sorry for the short post, I will edit it and/or post again soon hopefully. I'm close to finals week and it has been hard for me to post. Once again I apologize for the delay, please don't think that I am leaving this RP behind, I love the idea of this RP so that is not the case at all.

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#2013-05-13 22:50:13, as written by TwistedSong

Greg still leaned on the wall, not far from another door. He tried to open it... shut. "Damn it!" He was frustated, confused and the pain that raged inside his head didn't want to stop, it was unbearable, very unbearable. He slumped on the ground, staring at the wall in front of him. Nothing he had inside his head. Nothing about himself. Just unclear memories that he couldn't understand, memories, that he isn't even sure of if it's memories.

"It’s not real! It’s not real, none of this is real!"

He flinched hearing someone yell. From the sound of it, it was definitly a girl. What happened? What did she see? Is she in the same position as him? Was she confused like him? Desperate? Frustrated? Didn't she know herself either?

Did she want to flee from this place like him? Or... or was this a theater? From the real murderer? Pretending to be a victim no one will suspect him as a murderer and then... strike from behind? How could he even come to this thoughts? He decided to not trust anyone inside this 'cage'. This 'prison'. This nightmare.

He ruffled his head, tried to find any clear thoughts. Like hell he would find any, in this crazy situation. Was he nuts? Nothing will come out if he doesn't try to find out something. He slowly got up and slendered through the hallway, trying some doors out, without any success. As the suddenly he heard a chocking sound from the place he heard the scream of the girl. First, hasistant to check out, then slowly neared the sound of the noise were coming from. Alerted, he looked around, feeling unsecure and full of openings. Nothing will come out from just sitting around doing nothing. He knows that. So he neared the noise, and saw an unbelievable sight: A woman holding her neck.... comitting SUICIDE? He wasn't sure it was suicide, still, he jerked back seeing the sight, but still couldn't avoid his eyes to not seeing it. It was a very unbearable sight, in one side, he wanted to stop her, in the other side, he understood if she commit suicide. But something was wrong about her way breathing.

Is she really trying to kill herself... or did she... have something else? ... Like... like a desease? He slowly neared her again, grabbed her shoulder and shook her body. "H- hey! Get your act together! I don't want to see any deaths anymore!" He shouted, clueless what to do if it was really the case of asthma. But if she had asthma... wouldn't she had something against it with her? ... Did she forget it too? Like him? "Comon, breath in and out, damn it! You have asthma or something?" He asked then, seriously worried.

He didn't want to see someone being dead again. That bloody girl in the corner was enough, so his thoughts then.

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#2013-05-14 03:38:15, as written by paokikipao

Jane breathed heavier by the second, it was a feeling that one would never wish upon another, her hands continued to grab her own neck wishing that whatever it was making her breathing a difficult task would stop. Her fingertips held tightly to her throat which now seemed to be closing on its own. Desperation clung into Jane, and anxiety only grew higher.

She wanted to scream for help but it was all useless, only a few gasps and strange unrecognizable sounds would come out. So this is how I die? she asked herself for a moment in pain. During this exact same moment some people could say that ‘they saw their whole lives pass ahead of them” being a near death experience, but Jane had nothing on her. She recalled nothing from her past, she couldn't even remember her own name, and instead she was like a shell… empty. She didn’t know anything of herself, only that she was in danger not only from the possible murdered of the bloody girl but from something within her, under other circumstances and had she known that she had asthma she would have had an inhaler, asthma was taking a toll on her and there was nothing she could do.

What a way to die! Dying next to another girl that I didn't know, or do I? Maybe I killed her?! Is this Karma taking place? she asked alarmed, frightened at her own self. It was then when she felt a strong hand grab her shoulder as it shook her whole body, “H- hey! Get your act together! I don't want to see any deaths anymore!” he said with a strong and firm voice. Jane turned around to face the man who moved her abruptly in shook. Her eyes opened wide open surprised at his words, "Hell...p" she finally managed to say. “Comon, breath in and out, damn it! You have asthma or something?" he asked with concern that continued to surprise Jane.

Asthma huh? She didn't remember anything, but this was the only reasonable answer. She grabbed the stranger’s arm tightly searching for something to lean on noticing she was about to collapse. Don’t trust him! her inner self said eyeing the bloody girl besides her, You don’t know him!. Despite her own inner debate she decided to trust him, after all it didn't seem like she had many options at hand.

Grabbing tightly to his arm she decided to breathe slower, hoping that her anxiety would disappear along with her troubled breathing, breathing in counting 1... 2... 3... 4... and finally breathing out, 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6.... She tried speaking once again after finally releasing his arm from her hard grip "I'm sorry about that..." she finally said looking gratefully at the man who strangely seemed just as confused as she did.

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#2013-05-17 15:08:53, as written by TwistedSong

He was already this confused with his own situation, now this? He didn't want to get deeper involved with her. That's for sure. But something didn't let him leave her. It was, honest, a very annoying feeling. He didn't want to feel that. But he did said all those stupid things to her. Greg wondered how more crazy he can get.

Even because him being flustered, utterly confused what to do, he even didn't manage to hear what she was saying that time. But his head started to work:

"Hell...p"

She was asking for help. Well, not out of place for her situation. As she suddenly grabbed his arm tightly, he wanted to push her away, but remembered she was sick and didn't bring him to do it after all. There was some moments where he thought that she was about to die, but he didn't manage to open his mouth to talk to her. Her grab was even stronger and stronger, felt like she wanted to get him injured badly, but something in his head told him that she was induring something and needed to grab on something. In this case, it was his arm. And yes, it hurt. But as she did something like she wanted to lean on something, he quietly leaned her on the wall, not averting his eyes from her face, wasn't sure to be worried and stay by her until she probably dies with no oxygen like that or get far away from her so he wasn't accused to be her murderer... he was surprised that he even get this logic options in this silly situation. Silly? No, it was a serious situation. A case, where right and wrong could be twisted, just like that. With his confused state, he was sure, he'll do nothing than thinking... just like this. He sighed, lightly shook his head, as the woman in front of him finally showed some affort to breath normally. Inside, he was cheering on her. As then, after some unbearable seconds of instability, she lifted her head and looked at him. And their eyes met.

"I'm sorry about that..."

Awkward. That was the first thought of Greg as he heard that. Sorry? For real now? What was he apologizing about? He was puzzled with her answer, thinking useless things and then slumped on the floor, right in front of her. Still looked averted at her. Did she meant his arm, probably? It wasn't hurting anymore, he forgot the pain because of the tense situation just now. Still, he rubbed his hand slightly.
Again he was playing with the thought to ask her about all of his unaswered questions in his head. But seeing her... she was as confused as him, was she? He wondered. So he asked the one question, that was a big riddle for him too: "W- who a- re you?" With a shaken voice, still was shocked about the situation just now. But he felt a bit of... relieved too. And that question will do... for now that is.

[OOC: Sorry took so long answering..., not my best post, I'll make up for it next time, sorry ^^"]

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#2013-05-24 22:34:54, as written by paokikipao

There was a long silence as soon as she apologized, and for a moment she felt awkward and uncomfortable knowing she should have probably said thank you rather than "I'm sorry", even so she didn't regret apologizing to this man. After all he had saved her life and she wanted to apologize for her hard grip on his arm, she felt even more apologetic when she saw him rubbing his hand carefully, making her feel the need to apologize once again. However she didn't apologize, instead she was still in shock of the situation, of seeing the dead woman and her asthma attack.

This time she realized something else, they were trapped, more like imprisoned, but why? She couldn't remember anything about this place, or more importantly she couldn't remember who she was in the first place. What have I done?! Why am I a prisoner? She continued to look surprised at the man, she was still not able to talk at ease as she still suffered the aftermath of her asthma attack.

It was then when the man spoke again, "W-who a-re you?" to which Jane was left speechless. She stared directly into the man giving him a desperate glare full of questions and confusion. She remained quiet for a long and her eyes moved to the sides. In desperation her hands moved to her hair ruffling every strand of hair they could, wishing that somehow her brain would give her an answer to... well to anything...
Instead she was left with a blank, she was like a clean slate, a clean canvas. She finally let her troubled hair alone and stared back at the man, "I... do-n't know... I... can't re-member.... ANYTHING" she was finally able to speak, more like mutter. Her voice came out almost as a faint whisper slowly becoming louder.

Her colored eyes continued to gaze into his,"... Why are we here? What do you know?!" before she even allowed him to respond she spoke rapidly again, "Tell me everything you know. she said now starring into the cold dead body of the girl, sobbing in fear and terror, "Please!" she finally begged in tears.

OOC: I'm also sorry for replying SO late! I will be more active promise!

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#2013-05-24 22:34:55, as written by paokikipao

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