[physical education 101]

[sevenhorrorsmods]

Who: transfer students
When: July 1̷̝̤̳̙̫̭̻̝͓̄̇̾̀̕͝9̸̙̱̹͍̮̈́́̀̅͛̐̔̋ 20
Where: the. . . gymnasium?
What: an ice breaker
Warnings: moderate physical injury (not debilitating), psychological horror (absolutely debilitating)

[The school is empty. The school is quiet. The only sound that cuts through the silence is the soft ticking of the hallway clocks that mark the passing of each second.]

[. . .]

[At least. . . until a stiff breeze whips through the classrooms, scattering dirty papers and jerking the curtains aside. The clock strikes 6:00 a.m.]

[The school bell chimes.]

[ Team rooms | Endgame | Rewards ]

Comments

[velluminous]

I had hoped... [ coarse, scratchy, low: ] wanted... for this to be dream. Knowing it could not be.

[reapoman]

[ He gives her another once over, if only to make sure she's not obviously badly injured. ]

Wouldn't that be nice. No... it looks like this is going to be our reality for a bit.

[velluminous]

[ she is covered from head to toe in myriad tiny, razor-thin cuts... and larger garrotting marks on her ankles and the palms of her hands, the fingers of which are curled slightly to lessen the pull and the pain. she seems to chafe beneath his gaze—hates to feel so vulnerable around a stranger. ]

Ohhh.

[ a rough and tired sigh. she rubs her closed eyes hard with her thumb and forefinger ]

[reapoman]

[ It's okay girl get it out. ]

Do you need someone to bandage those?

[ Her hands, mostly. He has a few shreds of his track jacket left. ]

[velluminous]

[ too much to get it all out. get the pressure off, instead. ]

You men... so eager to strip yourselves for us needy.

[ she says it so plainly that it is clear she isn't making an entendre. ]

[reapoman]

Mm-hm.

[ Unfazed. ]

Hands, please.

[velluminous]

[ SHE MEANT IT STRAIGHTFORWARDLY, IVAN

turns her hands palm-up. she doesn't straighten out her fingers; it stings. as she does, she turns her face aside, looking for... someone. ]

[reapoman]

[ he glances up to follow her gaze, but ony briefly before he returns to his work. his hands are cold, seemingly incapable of being anything but, but he's gentle with her. ]

You got it too? The feeling like someone or something is following you.

[velluminous]

[ her hands are warm. it offsets.

gentleness is not... her primary concern. no, just make these hands useful again.

she's very still. her gaze is frozen over to the side. ]

...Da, there is something.

[reapoman]

It's probably that ghost from the intercom haunting us.

[ He is so remarkably calm about that. ]

[velluminous]

[ a careful, flicked glance that probably belies she isn't 100% sure what he means by "intercom". nevertheless, ] ...Yes. Its dolls.

[ but a ghost? it had looked so much like a hag, she was nearly convinced of it. when she glances back, there is nothing, and her stomach feels an ice splash spread through it. ah, she can understand how these creatures could age a woman. ]

[reapoman]

[ Ah. Right. There might be people here who don't get modern technology. ]

If we're lucky, it'll get bored after a while and leave us alone.

[velluminous]

And what do you really think?

[reapoman]

I think that only time will tell.

[velluminous]

About our circumstance.

[ not only the haunting dolls. she chances a look at her hands, now bandaged. there's no thanks forthcoming—does not so much as occur to her to say it. ]

[reapoman]

[ That's fine. In his line of work, he knows better than to expect a thank you. ]

I think whatever brought us here is powerful, and we should proceed with caution. I also think, considering my first point, we'll be stuck here for a while. Things are very likely going to get worse before they get better.