Entry tags:
graveyard part 3
![]() You wake up in an unfamiliar cabin. At first, it almost seems like you're in an entirely different place and that everything had been just a dream. The interior of the cabin looks nothing like the run-down, old-timey shacks that you had been living in before. Everything in here is sleek and modern, from the enormous flat-screen TV mounted on the wall to the fridge and mini-bars stocked with all your favorite foods. There aren't any individual rooms in here, just a common area large enough to house everyone comfortably, no matter how many more people join you...and there will be plenty more people joining you before the week is over. Because if you look outside the window, it quickly becomes clear that not only are you still in Prayer's Pass, but that you are no longer among the realm of the living. Judging from the tombstones directly outside, you're now in what had been the abandoned broken-down cabin in the graveyard. The cabin's not all that changed; the world outside has gone completely grey and everything you see appears to be faded and blurry. The only things that remain sharp and in color are what's inside the cabin, including your fellow ghosts. Occasionally, people who are still alive may enter, but it's clear that what they're seeing is completely different from what you're seeing. The door's unlocked; however, a mysterious force prevents you from stepping beyond the threshold, no matter how hard you may try. After all, this cabin is a cage for the dead - a gilded one, perhaps, but a cage nonetheless. On the flat-screen TV plays everything that is currently happening in the town. It will shut off once night starts...and something else will appear instead. |
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I guess I'll believe you guys had a good reason. At least for now. But if it's not true, I'll punch your face to bits.
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[He sighs.] Well, I hope you'll get the chance to find out...but it's not looking good for us.
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By gods, we did, didn't we? Between Nigma not lying about his role, killing Sunderland, and Holden pushing people to suspect our own, I'm amazed we got this far.
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I actually sort of missed you a little. That's all I meant to say. But you distracted me by throwing bottles at me and rooting for the hunters which is like way suspicious and I'm really finely tuned to detect bad guys being sinister.
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Well, you didn't detect me or Bruce or Tony Stark, so either your detective skills are incredibly off or we really aren't bad guys after all.
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[He seems hesitant again.]
I just don't feel like being mad at you.
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[And now it's his turn to seem hesitant.]
The days before I died were...good. Well no, they were bloody awful, probably the worst I've had since the plague, but some parts were...yes. Quite. [Coughs and mumbles into his teacup, looking away.]
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Other way around, wanker! You were so clueless that I basically had to spell it out for you what my role was!