Arkr's Cairn IC [Horror] [Mystery] [Survival]

Roman

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Arkr's Cairn
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You awaken. It is dark and cold and musty. The floor is hard and the sounds you make are muted. You are inside. You cannot remember where you were. All you know is that you are here, wherever here chooses to be.

'Here' appears as a cellar, and beyond that, a town. Blanketed in a thick, obscuring fog, you don't know which part of the country you're in, or even how you got here – but you know that the town seems intent on keeping you, and that you must defy its designs and escape.

There are secrets in this town. There are secrets in you, too, and there are secrets in those you will find during your exploration. Whether those secrets will be uncovered is entirely up to you.

Good luck.



A sharp intake of breath is the only sound offered to your waking mind, and it is quickly absorbed into silence that seems as oppressive as the dark of whatever room you're in. Your memories are faded, vague recollections of the days and weeks before now swimming in your mind, but with nothing concrete to anchor yourself to, and nothing the few hours prior to dropping into unconsciousness. You recall little, then nothing, then now.

Now. Now, you are alone and in a dark room with a stone floor and brick walls. Your eyes adjust and you see support beams across the ceiling and down the corners of the walls. There is a set of stairs up one of the walls leading to an old wooden door with a rusted handle. You discern that you must reside beneath a house of some description, in the empty cellar build below. You have no tools, no water, no food, nothing but the clothes on your back and the few personal items you had in your pockets when the blackness hit you.

From upstairs, there is only more silence, an eerie absence of sound. There is no creaking of movement on floorboards, no gentle hum of electrics, no soft melody floating from a radio or stereo. Just silence - and then, for a single moment, you think you hear a snatch of a growl, or a groan, until it's gone as quickly as it came and the silence hits you again and you're not sure there was even a sound made to begin with - perhaps it was just an auditory hallucination, your brain searching in vain for any aural input and creating its own in its efforts.

There is no other option open to you.

You cannot remain in this dark, dank room any longer.

You must ascend the stairs and investigate where you are.
 
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First reaction: Have I been robbed?

Silex dug through the many pockets lining his expensive outfit, coming up with the few things he always made sure to carry on him: a bottle of ibuprofen, a few standard bandages, a single earring that once belonged to his younger sister, and his wallet, a fancy snakeskin affair which itself contained his photo ID, about fifty dollars in cash, and a couple more in loose change. He never bothered with credit cards.

Everything was still in place, much to Silex's relief. Next question: Where am I? Once he could answer that, he could attend to the rest of the mysteries. Namely why he had been brought here, and by whom. A cursory glance around the room revealed a single doorway that would hopefully take him out of this disturbingly quiet cellar. He did enjoy quiet, but he was so used to the background noise of his neighbors and the chatter in the market down the street. He knew he'd have to get out now, before more hallucinations took him. And so, Silex ascended the stairs and opened the door, doing his best to ignore the sense of complete helplessness that was just starting to hover in the background of his mind.
 
Ray woke up to a horrible quiet. As she looked around, it spilled into her stomach and through the tips of her fingers, a bitter cold. She quickly scrambled, standing up, spinning around, grabbing at her sweatshirt and her limbs out of some frantic sense of self-preservation. She didn't know where she was, or how she got here. She wasn't tied up, she wasn't injured, she didn't feel drugged. No one was around, that she could see. She probably should have screamed, but something about the horrible emptiness of the room kept her dead silent. If she screamed, maybe they would hear her, and then she would learn exactly why she was here.

No, Ray, keep it together, she thought to herself, mouthing the words even if she didn't have the guts to speak into the empty room. She tried to calm down, tried to stop shaking. She was not taking this "being kidnapped" business very well.

At least, she assumed she'd been kidnapped--what else could it be? She couldn't have just zoned out and wandered into someone's... basement? Was this a basement? Those stairs led up, and it seemed cold enough. They hadn't taken her sweatshirt or her gloves. Her smartphone was still in her pocket, even if she couldn't get it to turn on. Her knife was in her other pocket, like it always was. That's what got her to finally calm down, at least a little, knowing that the familiar weight was there if she needed it. What kind of a kidnapper would leave someone untied, and with a weapon? Maybe it was all some kind of a misunderstanding. A horrible, very unfunny misunderstanding.

She thought she heard something upstairs, and she froze to listen harder. Her ears started ringing, now that her heart wasn't trying to beat its way out of her chest. It was so horribly quiet, did she just imagine it...?

Zombies, she thought. ...That's stupid, she thought again, a moment later. Zombies wouldn't explain why she was in the basement. Zombies also weren't particularly real.

She took a deep breath against the cold and the dark and started to walk towards the stairs. She would ascend and try to open the door as well, not completely sure she wanted it to be unlocked.
 
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Jon woke with a start, only to be met with nothingness and the cold floor below his now aching back. 'What...when...' He closed his eyes and strained to remember what he was doing, 'Must've blacked out...' He stood, stretching his old muscles and popping bones, feeling the old bones cry out a bit louder than the discomfort of the cold floor. Flailing his hands around slowly, Jon found a brick wall behind him and a shallow ceiling above. 'Who's basement is this?' Jon thought, his eyes having trouble adjusting to the dark of the cellar; there was a distant groan, yet it seemed strangely near, as if muffled by the thick darkness he'd awoken too. Making sense of what appeared to be shallow wooden stairs against the opposing cellar wall, Jon began to ascend.

His first step, he began thinking where he may be. He'd hoped that he'd drank too much, blacked out and did something stupid enough to coax somebody to put him in a cellar until he'd sobered up a bit. Problem was, he couldn't recall the past few days, as if they'd been disrupted. Maybe Jon had hit his head or the commies had finally come to get him. He chuckled under his breath and silently mouthed "God damn reds." He'd taken a few more steps, running other scenarios in his mind. Maybe he'd killed somebody and was caught. Ha! Well he was going to teach them a lesson or two in trying to shake up an old military man. Or maybe... he paused halfway up the stairs and the image of an old rundown bridge with a small boat anchored in a shallow creek came to mind. He shook his head and continued up the stairs, his aged eyes adjusting enough to make out an old brass knob on a door.

He reached for the knob, grasped it tightly expecting just about anything on the other side of this foreign door; and then...
 
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Conan woke up laying on here side, wondering if she was actually awake or not. Her eyes still haven't adjusted to the darkness. It was the type of darkness where you could barely tell if your eyes were open or closed. The air was bitter cold, so she knew she couldn't be dead...or was she? The silence was so odd to her, making her not wanting to ruin this absence of sound, but at the same time it scared her. So where was she? How did she get here? Why was she here?

Her throat was dry from the lack of moist in the air. Her body ached from the stone floor she was on. Conan slowly sat up and felt to see if all her possessions were still on her. A wallet which only contained about 20 bucks and her good old flip phone. 'If I'm not dead or if I wasn't kidnapped..then what exactly happen?' she thought. Just then when she tried to think of how she got here, she noticed she had no recollection of the past few days, maybe even weeks.

As her eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, she saw stairs that seemed like it lead to a door. Conan looked around more noticing she was surrounded by four brick walls. It was a room without windows. Just the door that led out.

Conan stood up and started walking towards the door. What was behind the door? Was it safe? Each step she took closer to the door seemed to build suspense and at that moment she swear she could hear her heart beating in her chest. For some reason she knew something wasn't right. As she grabbed the knob of the door she took a deep breath.

'Ok lets find some answers'
 
'What is that pounding sound? I swear if it's that damn landlord again I'm going to rip him a new one...' It was like a sullen drumbeat. It was mostly the way it reverberated through the young woman's bones did she finally think: 'Hey, maybe I'm not at home. Maybe that's not the sleazy middle-age landlord here to collect my late rent.' Jolina scrambled to sit up, pressing against the cold cement floor until her body was upright. The blood suddenly rushed to her feet and brain all at the same time and Jo thought she may end up on the floor again.

"What the--" Her voice stopped cold, the surroundings registered in her head, and suddenly the lightbulb flickered a bit. She was kidnapped, again... How could she let this happen? Why would they just leave her here though?

"I'm not tied up," she mused, searching her boots and pockets in a frantic blur until every item was laid out in front of her and she could properly take account of her belongings. "Wallet." She opened the contents of her worn leather wallet and counted her money. 'Seventy dollars. My movie card is still here and my badge to the shop is... Right here. Liscense is accounted for too.' She put the wallet down and opened up her small sized Waite tarot cards and checked to make sure every card was there. "My gum packet still has five pieces and that's everything... Wow I should carry more," Jo rubbed her chin and collected her items slowly.

Whoever had brought her here had no intentions of robbing her or killing her. She looked up at the set of stairs that occupied the space five feet in front of her. Up those steps was a wooden door and up those steps Jolina decided she needed to go.

"What other options do I have?" She shrugged, taking the steps two at a time and feeling through the darkness for the brass knob. Shouldn't she be scared? Well, she was and the iciness that traveled through her blood was not there a few moments ago. There could be anything behind this door. There could be anyone waiting on the other side.

She turned the knob, taking a deep breath and preparing for the worst that could come.
 
Anne rolled over, hoping to relieve the pain in her back. The pain eased somewhat, but underneath her was hard and uncomfortable. She groaned out a noise similar to "what?" and cracked her eyes open, only to be met with blackness. She pushed herself up and blinked the sleep-induced graininess from her eyes as her brain started to slowly work. A second later, her eyes opened wide and her head whipped around in fear. "What?" she asked, apparently to no one. "What the hell?" Her head whipped around a few more times, body twisting with it in order to try and get a complete view of her surroundings, to no avail. The darkness was completely overwhelming. Nothing could be seen at all, except for those swathes of colour that the mind seems to create in darkness such as this.

She patted herself down, checking her pockets for her belongings, mentally checking everything off. Phone, wallet, keys, knife... Yes, everything. She stood up abruptly and spun around, arms outstretched, as if that would give her any more information. Having come in contact with nothing, Anne stopped. Fear was threatening to take over and cripple her, but no, she had to do something, she had to! She took a few deep breaths, ignoring the fact that she was practically hyperventilating, and tried to rationalize it out. But as she scrambled through her memory, she found... nothing. Well, not much. A few snippets, but she couldn't place them for a certain time. The past few days were just gone, it seemed. Panic started creeping up on her again. There was no way she was supposed to be here, or was here of her own will.

After a moment, her leaden legs started to move, one hesitant step at a time, until her fingers brushed a wall. She pressed her palms against it, frantically patting it down for a light switch. The rough walls scraped her knuckles on one particularly rough sweep, but then the wall gave away to a space. She followed it around and was met with stairs. She slowly ascended, feeling each one with a foot to be sure it was there, but suddenly there was a noise. She stopped, ears straining. It had sounded like... a growl? But all she could hear now was her heart thumping. Was it really that loud? Whatever's out there must be able to hear it. However hard she strained to heard, she couldn't hear anything else. Maybe it was just her imagination? She gathered her courage and finished ascending. At the top of the stairs, she was met with a door. She found the handle and turned, slowly pushing the door open so as to make as little noise as possible, holding her breath to brace herself.
 
Poor Ray, oblivious to the half-dozen people all experiencing the same thing as she; she might have felt a little less small and crushingly alone if she'd known. It was scary, turning that door handle, hearing it click softly, sliding it open into the great unknown. She had no delusions of heroicism. Her heart skipped a beat when the hinges groaned and she had to bite down a sudden instinct to slam the door shut again. The room behind her may have been unsettling, but at least she knew that nothing was in there. This was...

...Someone's house? She poked her head in, didn't see anyone moving around. No blood on the ceiling, no bodies hanging from hooks like in horror movies, no shelves full of creepy dolls. She didn't even see any obsessive piles of old newspapers or writing on the walls. It just looked like an ordinary hallway with an ordinary, boring living room right around the corner. It almost looked like her grandmother's house, though she wasn't sure what exactly had prompted the thought.

She didn't plan to stick around and see if the residents were really as boring as they seemed. She slipped into the hallway, padded through the living room, and went straight for the front door as soon as she saw it. She didn't see a phone, but she didn't think it was all that weird. She hadn't looked very hard.

The front door opened just as easily as the basement door. There was a rush of relief to be outside, taking the few steps down onto the street, leaving the house of her presumed kidnappers, but... That slowed to a halt when she was greeted by a thick fog and a foreign road under her feet. It turns out that the horrible quiet had followed her out of the basement.

Where was she?
 
Turning the doorknob Jon braced himself, expecting a surprised captor or captors. He thrust open the door only to be met with silence and hints of dim light seeping in through dust covered drapes and wooden framed windows; even the dust grew thick on the window, choking the light after years of neglect. Yet the house seemed untouched otherwise, set aside from the world for another place and another time. As for the room Jon found himself in, was once a kitchen and dining room, remnants of food once laid out before a meal were dissolved by time; traces of stitching coming undone at the edges of tablecloth and window drapes. Yet it was eerie, not a single sign of life seemed to have passed through this room for some time, despite his presence in the basement.

A cold shiver went over Jon, leaving him alert but shaken, as his situation seemed to deteriorate rapidly. It then occurred to him 'my phone' he patted his left pocket feeling the small square in his pocket. Shuffling with his fingers he pulled the phone out, only to be met with futility; "no connection" in bold read across the top of the display and only one bar of battery power remained. Switching the phone off, Jon made his way toward the front door, the old floor groaned below him and the house seemed to respond as a hard wind passed the house for but a moment. Bracing the door knob, Jon found himself in a sense of deja-vu; or maybe it was some small feeling whispering but urging him to turn back. He shook off the foreboding feeling and stepped out to be met with the same eerie silence he'd been greeted with but a moment ago. The same abandoned scene, stretched out down the street in both directions. The town seemed older, the buildings style reminded him of the New England area, 'explains the fog' Jon thought to himself.

"Well..." He said aloud, "...there's gotta be somebody here." He scratched the back of his neck and began walking down the street; a trail lead off to his right and what looked to be an intersection was up ahead. He continued forth and then...
 
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Outside.

Oh, god. It might be worse.

It's still quiet, but you weren't expecting that to change. Or maybe you were, but feared something different even more. Whatever sound could break this silence might be like the groan you thought you heard, or something deeper in its profound terror. A monster of horrific proportions, a demon with designs upon your mortal form...or a man. Or a woman. Another person, trapped like you...or your hunter. Or both.

The fog is immediately noticeable. Thick, white, hanging in the air with a worrying pallor, and restricting your vision to just a few feet ahead of you. Beyond that, it swims and lurks and hides everything you can imagine. But the road is steady beneath your feet and the air is crisp. There is light enough to see, and maybe the sun hangs high above you, but unless this smog clears you won't know.

You wonder, yet again, how you are here. Why you are here. Where here is. This town holds secrets from you, and you must endeavor to find them out, otherwise you will be lost here.

You must scour this place. Uncovering the town will surely uncover your escape.

 
The fog was to thick. Couldn't be natural, but there was no other way Jon could see how such a fog could cover such a large area. Ahead of him the dim silhouettes of buildings barely shown through. He felt a shiver crawl up his spine, leaving him uneasy in this unfamiliar place. Passing an intersection and stopping at the next, he took his time to take in what surroundings were visible, then it caught his eye; as if it were a faint glimmer Jon strode forward to see a single comforting word on a turned over sign on the intersection corner. PUB. Walking past he opened the door to be greeted to the same silence as the rest of the town and a shelf of old liquor behind an equally old bar counter.

Taking a seat Jon leaned over the counter and picked up the first bottle his fingertips came in contact with; he flipped the bottle up, catching it by its neck, satisfied to find what looked to be old whiskey. Paying no mind to dust he popped the cork from the bottle and took a light sip, feeling that shiver in his back fade from the warmth now on his tongue. He thought of his half empty apartment, his old pair of mattresses, the stale smell of overcooked food lingering in his hall. He let out a sigh and wished he were back home in his simple little life and took another sip.
"Alright, I've gotta find my way out of this town." He patted his back pocket and pulled out a soft pack of cheap cigarettes and a mini pack of matches; flicking open the matches he saw six left and four smokes in the pack, each lightly bent but no less enjoyable. Taking a step back out of the pub after corking the whiskey and striking up a smoke Jon surveyed the sky above, only just realizing how thick the fog was. "Can't be natural." Looking to his left then his right Jon decided he'd call out, hoping to get a response but expected only an echo.

And then...
 
She held her own arms and drifted towards the side of the road. She ended up walking alongside a large stone building, but she couldn't figure out what it was supposed to be. This place was creepy. Now that she was in the heart of it, it was just getting worse. For all she knew, there wasn't another side to the road. She couldn't make out houses across the street. It looked like the fog just extended out forever, like someone had... taken a big eraser and gone to town on everything that wasn't right in front of her. On top of that, what little she could see looked nothing like the civilized world; she didn't see any wood paneling, modern brick, tacky lawn ornaments--hell, she couldn't even make out any marks on the road.

She hit an intersection at some point, but kept going straight. She marked the place in her mind as if she'd actually remember it later.

Where had she been before this? It nagged at her. She couldn't remember. She had been at home, right? Or maybe she was working, or on her way... It was like the fog was leaking into her brain, too. When the hell would she have been somewhere that someone could have taken her and dragged her off to... wherever this is? She was too careful. She didn't let things like this happen. She didn't--

She looked up, startled. She thought she heard a noise.

...Or maybe she didn't. She didn't hear anything after that. Must have just been her mind playing tricks on her.

Ray took a deep breath and trudged forward. She tried to stop spiraling around useless thoughts and just be happy that she'd gotten out of the house. She needed to come up with a way to call for help, like a working phone. Maybe if she finds someone, she can ask to make a call... Maybe if she keeps walking long enough, she'll find out where she is, or the fog will lift, and she'll see that it was just a humble little tourist town all along.
 
It was musty. That was the first thing Anna Sophia thought when she became conscious. She wrinkled her nose up, then shot up in a sitting position. There was a loud hacking sound reverberating off the walls. Her heart pounded heavily as she tried to orient herself in the dark room. As she attempted to take a deep breath in, she realized it was impossible. The hacking sound was her. She had woken herself up coughing. It must be something in the room. When her eyes adjusted, she stood. By the support beams on the ceiling and the musty smell, she determined she was in a basement.

Though her head was still clouded, she ascended the stairs that led to a door with cracks of light shining through. Sophia didn't bother trying to figure out what happened to her. All she needed was to get out into clean air, preferably somewhere with light. As she cracked open the creaky door, Sophia realized how stupid she was to just waltz out of the basement. With no recollection of why she was here, or what had happened, she needed to be careful. Maybe she was mugged with chloroform. Supposedly that could make you pretty groggy and sick after waking up. Shaking her head to clear it some more, she realized she had just stood in a strange stairwell with a creepy old door open to the floor above her for several minutes while spacing out. Wonderful.

Get it together, she told herself. Peeking around the door, she noticed an empty house. Wooden floors, no trims other than the doorways, and simple furniture. Taking a few hesitant steps forward, she realized nobody was there. Though she thought she had heard a gruff noise while she had been coughing, there seemed to be nobody around. She was alone. Tip-toeing to the front door, which was just to her left and in front of her, she placed her hand on the doorknob and pulled it open.

This was getting even more strange. Both doors had been unlocked. Why? Did they all ready get a ransom or something? Not as if she had anyone who would pay, or at least be able to pay. Oh! Sophia completely spaced that she might have her cell in her pocket. If they left the doors open, maybe they didn't search her pockets. As she fished in her left and right pocket, she was relieved to find her red cellphone. Of course, however, it was dead. How long had she been out? Shrugging off a dreaded feeling, she walked outside to find a large building across the street from the row of houses she was leaving behind. Other than the large building in front of her and a few houses to either side of this house, she couldn't see anything. There was a thick, heavy fog blanketing the area.

After crossing the dead street, she walked toward the entrance of the building. Town Hall, it read. There has to be somebody in there. They would be able to help her. She took a few steps up to the door, all ready disturbed by the lack of people leaving and entering the building. Not to mention the unnerving quiet all around her. No distant cars, no voices anywhere, and strangest of all was that even without all of that, she still felt something missing. Some sound she was used to being there...wasn't. She huffed and pulled the Town Hall door open, expecting a nice cool breeze from the air-conditioner. There was none.
 
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Well, nothing interesting happened when she opened the door. At least, nothing like some creepo popping out to grab her or the door opening into another dimension. Anne slipped through the door, having only opened it enough to let her out of the musty basement. The house she found herself in was somewhat dusty, but otherwise it appeared to be lived in. The dining room and kitchen area she could see from her position looked like it had been used and then suddenly interrupted. Odd... she thought, stepping closer to the scene. The food had started to mold by then, but there was no mess. Like everyone had gotten up to leave because grandma suddenly had a seizure or something. She continued on, exploring the whole house before deciding it was time to go outside. She hadn't found anything interesting or telling at all. The phone she had tried to use was silent -- not even a dial tone. The light switches did nothing, and any sounds she made were strangely muffled. "Outside." she muttered, gathering her courage for the next threshold she had to cross.

The front door stood in front of her, a solid wooden barrier. Anne took a deep breath before reaching out and grasping the ornate brass handle, turning it until the door opened. The door stuck, but a sharp tug loosened it. She let the momentum carry the door completely open, granting her a view of the world outside. Fog...? she thought. As if it wasn't obvious. But it was unusually thick. Unnaturally so. She could barely see. A touch of claustrophobia started creeping in on her. Not many situations made her feel that way, but this... all of the weirdness added onto that thick white blanket? Nope. She tried to calm herself, resisting the urge to shut the door again. It's okay. Well, it's not, but you won't get out of here unless you go. she thought. It was a pathetic excuse of a pep talk, but it was sufficient enough to make her take a tentative step outside. After that, it was a little easier. She looked right and left. To the right... nothing. Nothing at all, just the road stretching into oblivion. To her left, she could see a bit of another house and what might have been an intersection. She decided to go that way, not liking the emptiness of the other route.
 
Ray's plan to keep going forward would have been a good one, if she had not been a paranoid wreck of a person before she was supposedly kidnapped and dropped into something out of a Lovecraft story. Not that she'd read many Lovecraft stories, actually. This was just what she'd always imagined they must look like--or a zombie novel. She sighed and hugged herself closer. Why did it keep coming back to zombies?

She was really starting to get scared. She was alone and had no idea how big this town was. Maybe it would go on forever. What was going to happen when the sun went down? Where would she stay? Where was everyone? She was starting to imagine all of the bad people that might be waiting just six feet in front of her, hiding in the fog. They got worse and worse the longer she cycled through them.

She walked up to another intersection and took a right turn, just to give herself something else to think about. She focused on trying to map out the town, remember the streets, remember the way back. She didn't know it, but another large building--the Town Hall--was coming up on her left.
 
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The town hall is a big wooden building, barn-like in its size and simply-shaped construction. It has a large set of windowless double door - or perhaps, rather, had. One remained intact, if marred by lengthy scorch marks, and the other is half-there, hanging onto its hinges. The third that remains is mostly stable, but old blood is still splattered across it, long gashes of splintered wood from some kind of blade. The other two-thirds are missing from the frame entirely, jagged edges of splintered wood noting where the door was smashed in. Splinters lie on the floor in front of it. Through the hole where the door once was, you can see in to the building without crossing its threshold. Perhaps you don't want to.

There is little light. Enough to see by, but what gets in is musty and dank, spent from pushing through the dirty windows that line the eastern wall. At the back you can faintly see stairs and a dusty bronze plaque on the wall beside them, but the main floor in front of you is easier to inspect without entering the building. A great square floor, no interruptions from the walls of rooms. There is a short empty space, and then tables begin, arranged in a wide horseshoe pattern, and a lectern in the center. There is something on the lectern, something that looks like a book, thick and weighty and dusty like everything else in this place. There is more blood inside, old and worn like that which is across the remaining intact door - but not much. It is on the floor in front of the lectern, and now that you notice its sheen, small dabs across the windows, too. Who it came from, and who drew it out, you do not know - but you feel that one way or another, you will find out.

You're not sure whether stumbling across someone else is desirable. Perhaps there's not another living soul in this town. But if there is, you hope their situation is as bleak as yours. And that you can both work together to defeat whatever has ensnared you.

 
Veronica had a choice to make. Which was worse the pain in her skull or the pain from hunger? In either case she was now awake which led to another question; where was she? Veronica stood up and promptly dropped to one knee. The pain in her head and from hunger was now accompanied by a pain in her right knee as she was on one knee.

Not exactly one of my better moves.

Veronica looked around to gauge her situation and her surroundings. The room was dimly lit by one light bulb in the middle of the room, she was on a concrete floor, and the smell of mildew was all around her.

Okay let's try this again.

Veronica tried to stand up again, and though it was obvious that she had bruised her knee Veronica was able to stand up. She took a moment to take inventory of herself. Outside of the raging pain in the back of her head as far as she could tell she was physically fine. Her blue and gray Nikes were still tied just as she tied them this morning. The blue jeans were still intact no evidence that they had been taken off. Her white oxford cloth shirt and white tank-top were both still on as she remembered them. Even her black leather jacket was fine outside of some very minor scratches on the sleeve where she had been laying. Veronica saw that her purse was a few feet away from her. She walked over to it and opened it up finding everything in tact. Veronica checked her cell phone and saw that it was dead. Her wallet which she put in her pocket, her Police ID which went in another pocket, and a few other items. One of them was a Kit-Kat bar which she scarfed down in a matter of seconds.

Breakfast of champions. Assuming it's morning...no idea though.

Veronica checked her back and realized that her 9MM Sig-Sauer was gone.

Filing out the paperwork to get another gun should be fun. That being said it would be nice to have to fill out a form, because it means I'm home. Time to find out where I am and I'm not gonna find out standing here.

Veronica made her way to the door and put her hand on the knob. Hearing no sounds gently Veronica turned the knob to discover that it was unlocked. Veronica opened the door and stood back as though she were expecting something to jump out at her. When she realized that there was nothing there Veronica slowly poked her head out and took a look around. Veronica saw nothing but dimly lit hallways and a set of stairs. Veronica then took a step out into the hall way looking around and being careful as not to make the wooden floors creak. Veronica took another step into the hallway and then began to move slowly to the stairs. As she moved to the stairs Veronica kept looking around and saw other doors that were wide open.

Hopefully I'll run into others and then maybe we can come up with some answers.

Veronica stopped short of the stairs and took a look up. She saw a door which she could only assume that led to the outside, and decided that was her next destination. Very carefully she placed her left foot on the stairs and applied pressure.

Usually at this point in a horror movie the stair creaks and some psycho comes out of nowhere. Causing me to flee up the stairs, losing my coordination, yelling and screaming ensues, and magically I lose my top too. Sorry I like my leather jacket too much to lose it.

Hearing no creaks Veronica made her way up the stairs. Once she got to the door Veronica opened it and saw that she was in a downtown area of some kind. The streets were wet, the buildings had clearly seen there better days, and it was foggy.

Lovely, a couple tons of C4 and napalm and this place could be just downright depressing. The fact that there is a graveyard next to me isn't exactly filling me with joy. Again time to get moving.

Veronica began her walk through the area. Making mental notes along the way so in case she had to back track she knew what to do. Veronica moved at a good pace, and she knew how to defend herself without her gun. However at this moment Veronica was willing to give a year's pay for her gun and one bullet.

As she made her way through Veronica noticed that a large building was coming up on her right and she was semi-relieved when she saw someone else. Veronica made her way across the street to what she was assuming was a Town Hall of some kind.
 
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No reply from his beckon. The town truly must be deserted, but why? Taking another drag off his crooked cigarette Jon began making his way SE down the road adjacent to what seemed to be an open field. In the distance, what light that shone through the thick fog dampened as the faint silhouette of a building came into view, at least three stories high. A high black barred fence wove around the perimeter as far as he could make out with a pair of opened gates inviting him in. Stopping for a moment to grasp his new surroundings, Jon flicked the butt of his cigarette into the road and took a deep inhale as he gathered his wits.

Something about this place...

That cold shiver was kept at ease as a small buzz from the whiskey eased his nerves, keeping his courage for a moment longer as he continued forward past the foreboding gates. The entrance came into view, above in bold letters ASYLUM struck out through the fog in an arch above the grand doors. He felt a piece of him tug backward, whispering not to continue forward, yet he felt compelled to explore a bit considering there was no one else to convince him otherwise. What harm could it do? I'll just take a few steps in and see if there may be somebody here.

Moving up toward the doors, each step up the stone stairs seemed to lead him far away from something else, some sense of urgency began to kick in. He excused the thoughts and found himself at the pair of large wooden doors, firmly shut with aged brass handles waiting to be grasped and pushed open. From the look of it, this place was just as untouched as the pub and the rest of the town. Then a thought struck him, An Asylum, that must mean there are medical records in the front office like any hospital. Could find something out about this town. Taking a deep breath, Jon pushed the door open, feeling the aged hinges resist but slip none-the-less. To that, he was met with the same silence yet again, deja-vu at work. It reminded him of a horror movie he'd seen once, but he knew that Hollywood junk was a bunch of garbage; though that same little whisper in his mind had begun to speak up, imploring that he turn around.

"Alright, lets see here..." He stepped to the first door on his right and read Visiting/Reception and the door opposite read Patient Registry. He turned toward the registry door and gave the handle a jiggle but to no avail, as the lock was firmly in place. He turned back and checked the reception door to have it click and silently glide open. A handful of chairs set nearly around the walls, a pile of old newspapers that had the ink faded from over the years to barely legible writing and a small office opposite the room. Hardly any light penetrated the windows, keeping Jon on his toes as he made his way to the office only to be met with another locked door. He attempted to force the door open with no success, only left to head back into the hallway which only source of light was the now open door at the buildings entrance.

Well, may as well... "Is there anybody here!?" Jon shouted as loud as he could, hearing his voice echo down the halls and deep into the structure. It was at this point, he felt that whisper turn into a scream, begging him to turn back.
 
She finally started drifting closer and closer towards the building. Eventually, she was keeping her hands on the wall just so that she could feel her fingertips drag across something solid. This whole thing was bad, she just kept thinking, this whole thing is a mess and she isn't sure what to do.

She nearly screamed when she saw movement at the edge of her fog-heavy vision. She stopped, gasped, and covered her mouth as if that would somehow take the sound back for her--but then, a second later, "Oh my god."

It was a girl. It was just an ordinary, boring looking girl, with blue jeans and brown hair. She wasn't even that big. Ray laughed, nervously, quietly giggling past her hand before heaving a huge sigh of relief.

"Oh my god, there's someone else here. I was really starting to freak out," she says to the girl, stepping closer. She starts to feel stupid and ashamed for being so scared, for assuming this was a empty town full of nightmares. It was probably just really quiet today. Because, look! Here was a normal-looking person.

Though, when she stepped closer, she also noticed the way that the door was broken in, and how the colors were wrong. Her eyes stuck to it, past the girl. So much for her settled feeling; this didn't look good.
 
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Veronica was relieved that there was someone else here. As a general rule Veronica liked to work alone but in this current setting she didn't mind the company and even slightly smiled at the young lady with her. She looked like she was in her mid 20's and just as confused and lost as Veronica was.

She said, "Hi, Detective Veronica Holland NYPD. Although I have the bad feeling we are nowhere near New York. You can just call me Ronnie right though I'd settle for two things. One to know where the hell we are, and two to have my gun back with one round in the chamber."

Veronica shook her head and said, "Somehow though I don't think we're gonna find a lot of answers standing out here." Veronica turned her eyes to the stairs leading up to what appeared to be City Hall and said, "Most cases I would say let's wait this one out, but like I said I doubt we're gonna find our answers out here."

Veronica bent down and grabbed a piece of wood laying next to her. Veronica gave it a slight flex and it felt solid enough. She said, "Not exactly my gun, but in bad situation it could be an effective club. Right now though beggars can't be choosers."

Veronica started to make her way up the stairs to the doors. They looked like they had seen their better day and one of them looked like a swift shove and it was gonna collapse. Veronica shoved on it just enough to give her and her no name friend a wide enough opening for them to enter in. Veronica drew back her club ready to go at a second's notice and said, "Okay let's do this."