A Room.
You are in a room.
The floor is made of concrete.
The walls are made of concrete.
The ceiling is made... View more
Organizer:
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Actual RP
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Actual RP
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Alex jolts at the sound of he scratching, beginning to shake even more before he grips Elijah’s hand even harder, Elijah gripping back to let him know that everything will be okay. Alex hesitantly feels around the walls as he trails behind Elijah, feeling around for Dakota who recently spoke out.
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Velia resists to cover her ears at the sound, now joined by Emmaline and Samuel that’d be both rude and stupid to cover her ears. Samuel seemed to shudder at the sound meaning he heard it too….He can’t hear an audirory hallucination so something truly was scratching . Remembering Emmaline stating she feared the dark a popular saying pops into her head but before she could speak it Samuel provides a psychic translation.
“No one is afraid of the dark, they’re afraid of what lurks inside it…” The fear in his voice was both panic worthy as well as extremely ominous.
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Something brushes momentarily against Alex’s leg.
The scratching gets faster.
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“No, I’m afraid of the dark in general… Oh god, I hate this. How does he know about our fears?!” She grips Velia’s hand, tears rolling down her cheeks in silence. “Last time I was in the dark, my brother left me for 7 hours… Alone… When I was 8.” She shudders, shaking in her shoes. “We gotta get outta here…”
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As per the usual here, I was severely confused, Only able to get three words out, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“What the fuck?”
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“Puppet master is praying on our fears, I. He locked us in here and now he’s using our fears against us.” She sinks to the ground, years flowing freely as her knees shake. “It’ll be alright, the dark doesn’t have scary things…” She tries to comvince herself to no avail.
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To calm every one down Ian keeps his flashlight on and says “Clam down every one its just dark and all is cool if you keep panicking it will smell like sulfur again so lets keep things cool every one got me?” Ian steps forward and continues to reassure all of the idea that when in doubt do not run in circles scream and shout it is a bad idea and it panics people.
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“I’m not panicking… I think.” She laughs to herself, thinking. “We’re nothing but marionettes, waiting for our strings to be cut.”
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Steve wakes up to his dream, ‘the best ones end to early’ he thinks, he opens his eyes, he does not see the normal posters on his wall, he does not see his computer on his desk, he doesnt see anything except bare grey walls, and his eye-patch on the floor besides him, he puts it over his blind eye “hello!?” he yells
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“Newbie, short story. There is a guy who put us all in here, and he is using our fears. He’s using my fear of the dark, so I’m scared as hell. Emmaline.” She turns her head in the direction of the voice, reaching her hand out and trying to find his.
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Ian’s flashlight flickers out.
A bloodcurdling scream breaks the ensuing silence.
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“where are we?” i say walking around, examining the bare walls
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“What the hell?!” She clinched her head, freaking out. “Was that any of you?!” She tries not to scream herself, staring at the darkness in front of her,.
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“Hey everything is alright.” I say to Emmaline i walk towards her voice and touch her shoulder as i sit next to her.
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The smell of bacon recedes slightly.
(I’m changing the kill roll number to 40 to balance things out a bit.)
[ROLL 1-40]
[RESPONSE BONUS +5]
[PREPARATION BONUS +1]
[IF RESULT > 20+5+1, ADD ONE DEATH, REROLL]
[FIRST ROLL: 32]
[ONE PERSON WILL DIE]
[SECOND ROLL: 7]
[INITIATING RUSSIAN-ROULETTE SELECTION]
[ORDER BASED ON CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER OF CHARACTERS CREATED]
[ROLL 1-10]
[IF RESULT > 5, CHARACTER IS SELECTED, SELECTION PROCESS ENDS WHEN ALL DEATHS HAVE BEEN COMPLETED]
[ROLLING FOR I: 7]
[CHARACTERS: “I,” HAVE BEEN SELECTED TO DIE! BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME!]
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The scratching gets louder. Ian’s flashlight flickers back to life, casting light on a human figure, its skin flayed from its body. It lets out another ghastly scream and runs with impossible speed to I, who stands confused to the side of the room. Before I can figure out what’s happening, sharpened fingernails dig into his throat, slashing it wide open.
Pel honks loudly and swings her sword through the monster. Instantaneously, it turns into dust and falls to the ground. The lights come back on.
I lies in place for several minutes – the group lacks the first-aid supplies to patch up his throat – and eventually he bleeds out. Moments after his eyes close, he, too, becomes dust.
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