SC day 1
I wake with a bleariness in my eyes. I'm in a strange room, but it seems vaguely familiar. The walls are a pale lilac color, and the floors are a shiny brown hardwood.
I sit up, and my head throbs, but I push the pain to the back of my mind. I have to get out of here... something isn't right.
I stand, and immediately the blood rushes to my feet and I feel dizzy. I take a few steps to regain my balance. I breath out, and open a door a few feet from where the bed sits.
It's an empty closet, and I suddenly hear the door click closed behind me. Panicking, I rattle the knob and it opens. I take a deep breath and open the other door.
It's a long narrow hallway. A fence on one side indicates a staircase. I try to side-step the fence, but the space is too small. I walk down the 's another door, leading to another bedroom that's empty except for a queen-sized bed with pale orange bedding, a small desk, a computer, and nothing else. I try to turn on the computer, but there's no power. I sigh and leave the room, quietly tip-toeing down the stairs.
At the bottom, there's a fairly large kitchen with a few cabinets. I'm a bit hungry, so I open them to see what they conceal.
They're all empty except for the one on the end, which has a compass, three small cooked slabs of meat, twelve arrows in a sheath, a bow, a small spear, a knife, and two loaves of bread.
That's odd, I think to myself, why would someone hide weapons in their kitchen cabinet, and not bring them with them when they left?
The house is completely empty, except for a worn pack in the coat-closet. I put the compass in my pocket, the meat and bread in the pack, the knife into my belt loop, the spear in the arrow sheath, the sheath around my back by a leather strap. I hold the bow, and load an arrow in. The pack is a bit heavy, but it gets a bit lighter as I explore the house and eat a loaf of bread to calm my hunger.
It satisfies me.
In what seems to be a garage, there's a small boy, pacing. He wears a dusty brown shirt and orange-brown pants. He also has a brown pack on his back. He turns and screams when he sees me, quiet and feeble, cowering in fear in the corner, shaking.
He screams so loud I jump, spilling the contents of my bag, and hitting my head on the low-set beam above me.
I moan and grit my teeth, but I can't make any sound. I don't know what's outside the garage.
I approach the boy slowly, and he gets up and runs across the room. He's barefoot, and his foot catches on the knife.
He screams in pain.
I try my best to get the knife out, and I do, but the boy just backs away and collapses onto the ground, bleeding heavily.
I have to keep moving.
I rip cloth from my shirt and tie it to the boy's foot, but it doesn't do any good. A pool of crimson has formed around the unconscious boy.
I know the boy will die soon, and there's nothing I can do.
I turn and run through the side door, careful not to make noise.
Clutching the bow and arrow with sweaty hands, I creep along the side of the house to the next house over. There's nothing inside.
Peering out the window of the pale green neighboring house, I nearly scream. A pack of young men, all wearing a pale gray shirt and dark gray pants, maybe eighteen, hold large guns and stand above a crumpled body of a small girl. I back against the wall, crouching so they don't see me.
I sneak another look at the men before creeping out of the other door of the house.
Then I see him: a muscular man with orange tussled hair. He wears a plain pale orange shirt and brown pants. He carries a gun and a bloody dagger.
Suppressing a scream of terror, I turn on my heels and race back to the pale purple house I came from.
I breath heavily. I listen through the wall of the garage to see if I can hear him, moaning, breathing, moving, anything.
I hear only a cold silence.
Creeping down the street, I slip into what seems to be a public pool. The iron bars are fairly spaced so I can slip between. I duck when I see another man in a pale gray shirt and gray pants.
He stops for a moment, and glances around. I hold my breath. He continues, and I slip into the pool for a few moments, relaxing as my feel dangle in the cool water.
What am I doing?
I try my aim with my bow and arrows. Aiming, I let one fly. It hits the window of the admission building, shattering the glass, sending shards all over the pavement.
My aim is okay.
I creep through the locker room. There's a sign that says,
CONTROL ROOM
DO NOT ENTER
I enter anyway, turning off all the power switches. Nothing happens.
Outside the door, the man in gray has gone, and I see ahead what looks like a hotel. There is a tunnel dividing up two buildings. A bridge spans over the tunnel. One sign says
LOBBY
and the other says
PRIVATE CONDO.
Both are empty, so I choose the condo. It's fairly small and empty.
Inside the lobby of the other building. I go up the stairs to the second floor, and swing myself into one of the rooms. I walk around calmly, and let myself on to the balcony. I clutch the railing and gaze around. My breath catches in my throat as I see a large, muscular man in all gray. He carries a pearly white dagger in one hand, and a small gun in the other. His head moves back and forth as he scans the streets.
I duck down and tuck my knees into my chest, hoping he doesn't see me.
I continue watching, and he doubles back across the street, back turned to me, and enters a red brick building.
I turn, my sleeve catching on the torch giving light to the balcony, and tears of pain streak down my checks. I stop in the middle of the minty green kitchen.
The bed feels like it's made of rocks, and I can't sleep. I go in search of another bed. The room next to the minty green one is completely empty. Odd, I think, that the room I chose just happened to be furnished.
The next room is also empty except for a small pink bed in he corner with a white pillow. I curl up in a tight ball and, holding my dagger out, fall asleep.