Cascade Falls [IC]

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by neptune, Dec 6, 2015.

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  1. The worn tires of a white Bronco came to a screeching halt in front of the sheriff's office, now the sole occupant of the entire parking lot. Eric Reed had just come from the mountain after enduring another long and tedious talk with Howard about the state of the town and its residents. No matter how much expensive and long-aged scotch the man poured into his glass, everything always came up tasting like ash and the bottom line never got any easier. In the truck, he was safe, there were no prying eyes to cajole him into doing his job, not thin criticisms about why he had and hadn't acted and no drawling voice in his ear about how easily he could be replaced. Giving a glance to the rear-view mirror, Eric let his eyes settle on his own partial reflection and tried not to think about how exhausted his soul looked before getting out.

    The air outside was pine-scented and unassuming, warm enough to signal summer but the autumn chill was never far off once the sun began to set. Eric refused to acknowledge the shiver that ran up his spine as he strode across the neat sidewalk and wrenched open the heavy glass doors in front of him. The smell of the sheriff's station mimicked the outside, familiar and piney with just the faintest hint of dust. After eight years of servitude, it had finally become tolerable.

    I thought I told you to go home?” Eric wondered aloud as his eyes fell on Sakamae, who was still at her desk. On a normal day, he wouldn't have expected to see her hanging around so close to sundown, but there was worry in the air that couldn't be expressed between them and Eric had disappointment to deliver that was only going to get worse.

    Taking a few steps closer, he leaned with one hand against her desk and glanced over her shoulder to the only occupied cell. Jeremiah Allen worked at the coffee house and had been a vital part of the town for as long as Eric could remember, but a third strike was a third strike no matter how unassuming and Howard seemed to think that giving interviews to the rarely-printed paper was grounds for execution. Eric didn't see it that way, but he had no real power and like everyone else in town, he did what was requested of him when the strings were pulled. Looking back to Sakamae, Eric hoped she'd managed to say goodbye. “You really should head out.” He knew she wouldn't, though.

    Leaving her desk, Eric walked over to the iron bars, reminiscent of cowboy days and took a long look at Jeremiah. He was an older man, in his mid-forties with greying hair that had once been as black as the night sky. His shoulders were broad, but hunch as he sat on the cell's bench, staring at the floor with brown eyes. Jeremiah was a good person, kind and staunch in his refusal to believe that he would never see the outside of Cascade Falls again. He didn't deserve what was about to happen to him.

    Jeremiah looked up and immediately got to his feet and came to the bars. They shared a glance, one of apology and regret but both men stayed silent, slowly counting back from fifteen and waiting a few extra seconds just to make sure the cameras had fallen into sleep mode. “I'm going to give you a head start,” Eric whispered, having perfected the art of hiding in plain sight. “They want a show, but Sakamae's going to let you out when I go to make the call.”

    And the supplies?”

    In the tunnel, I heard.” If the town couldn't find him, Eric wouldn't have to cut his throat and if Jeremiah made it out alive, maybe the rest of them could too. It was hard to tell where the tunnels under the mausoleum went, but he hoped the man would find his way.

    Thank you,” Jeremiah whispered back.

    Nodding, Eric backed away from the cell and didn't bother to turn his eyes toward the air vent where a camera had been reactivated. Trading the lobby for his office, Eric trusted that Sakamae had already left her chip—she was a smart woman, and her loyalty never failed to impress.

    One of three outgoing phone lines in the valley was located in his office, but Eric had never been able to reach anyone in the outside world. It didn't matter how many times he dialed back to Michigan, the ringing never stopped, but his calls were answered on the very first ring whenever the mountain was involved. With a sudden surge of anger, Eric punched in the code on the keypad, heavy receiver to his ear as the cord tangled in on itself.

    Please record your message,” said the voice of some faceless technician.

    This is Sheriff Eric Reed,” he said, calm and formal, perfectly emotionless, “a fête has been called for Jeremiah Allen. He works at the coffee house, but his current whereabouts are unknown.” Every targets whereabouts were unknown, it was meant to rile the town, Howard's creation that brought out a primal urge to hunt. “Bring him to the center of town for punishment and disposal.” He pressed the pound key, sealing Jeremiah's fate, but hopefully the man had already managed to put some distance between himself and the oncoming mob.

    Down at the bar, Casey Sloan found herself leaned over the pool table, on her second beer and failing miserably at each shot she took. The end of the long cue in her hand scraped against the felt table and the red ball she had been aiming for bounced off the side. “Shit!” she laughed, straightening up. “I shouldn't have bet you—I'm awful at this.” But what fun was the end of the day without a few beers and a little lost money that had never had any real value to begin with? The plastic-like paper was burning a hole in her pocket and despite the circumstances, Casey was having a pretty good time.

    Looking to her partner, the person she was about to owe twenty bucks to, Casey flashed a smile. “Your next one's on me,” she offered, her own pint glass now empty. She leaned the stick against the table and held up a finger, signaling that she would be right back before turning away from the game and heading to the bar. Riley was working that night, and she was happy to see him, ready to call out and get his attention when the phone started to ring.

    Instantly, the entire place went quiet and all around town, the ringing started. Around her, customers began to leave, some running with glee clear on their faces and others shuffling off with intentions to hide. The phone rang again, the entire town consumed with bells and Casey feared the worst. The fresh wound in the back of her leg, the tracker that rested, wrapped in duct-tape was still in her pocket—were they calling for her? Had she crossed too many lines?

    Frozen where she stood, Casey waited for Riley to answer the phone. He would have to make the announcement himself, do his duty and inform the people. She looked to him, hoping he wouldn't turn her over without a chance to run away.
    • Love Love x 4
  2. It was a nice night for Cindy Robertson to walk to the hospital, she had taken the night shift out of the many ones available, she seemed fine with it since it keeps her with spending another lonely night at her house reading books. So far things were ok for Cindy...Except the fact that she has to wear the work uniform which she feels makes her uncomfortable and embarrassing, Cindy always thought that the regular doctors outfit would of looked better, then again she has no right to complain...Especially in a "Wonderful Town" like this...

    Yeah Right.

    On the outside Cindy was like any other townsfolk, people who respect the rules and go about there daily lives, however on the inside she always wanted out...She wanted to get through that fence and just...Run back to her parents or even get help...Unless the Government has something to do with this weird town, but unfortunately she cant appear like this or else she could be the next person to suffer...a dreaded Fete...So she's mostly cheerful to avoid suspicion.

    Finally Cindy made it the hospital and entered, removing the jacket she wore in the process and got ready for the night. Despite the town she was in Cindy loved this job more then ever,
    she always wanted this job mostly to befriend the head nurse...Norma Spencer, who Cindy thought is cool and would like to meet her one day, she also wants people to talk too who are not annoying and help out, unfortunately she just started so she's in training, it might take her awhile before she actually meets Norma.

    As Cindy walked to the front desk a nurse tugged her shoulder, she turned around to see this tall nurse with blonde her who looked cheerful and donned a nurses hat, her body was slender and she seemed to have nail polish on her, she smiled and spoke to Cindy. "Your the new nurse right...Robertson was it?" She said without a change in her emotion, Cindy paused for a second before speaking while also smiling at the same time. "Why yes...Cindy Robertson, the new nurse in this hospital, be careful I also have a case of sarcasm sometimes!" She said as she shook the nurses hand, the nurse quickly spoke again. "Great...Because we need you quickly!" The nurse said as she grabbed Cindy's arm and took her to the nearby door. "Wait...What's going on, I didn't expect to be thrown in a surgery this quick?" Cindy said. "Its nothing like that, especially if its your first week here." The nurse said as Cindy was brought into a room with an elderly man in a robe with a footcast on, he looked towards the two nurses. "Oh...Are you here to help me rest...Well I don't need too...And turn off the lights!" He said bitterly as he looked out into the night sky from the window.

    "Sorry, Mr.Lyle!" The nurse said as she turned off the lights, with the only source of light being a lamp next to the old man. Cindy was confused on why she was here and so...Asked why she was here. "So...Remind me again why you suddenly brought me here?" Cindy said to the Nurse, who turned back towards Cindy. "Oh right...I'm kinda on a busy schedule so I was here to get new flowers and get a night sky for Mr. Lyle here, but I was wondering since your new, maybe you should start out with doing simple jobs like this...Do you want something to eat before bed Lyle?" The nurse said to Lyle who grumbled and turned towards Cindy and the Nurse.

    "Fine...Make it not disgusting will you please maid?" Lyle said...To Cindy, who was shocked at his comment...She wasn't a maid...Well what she's about to do involves something a maid would do...But she's a nurse first and she WILL do something a nurse usually dose by the end of the night, but for now Cindy kept a normal face and spoke. "Why sure...I'll go get you food." Cindy said as she walked towards the small table beside Lyle that had the lamp and a vase full of dead flowers, Cindy grabbed them with one hand. "And new flowers to...How dose that sound Mr. Lyle?" Cindy said...Lyle did not say anything, Cindy turned and noticed the nurse had already left and so she left also to get new flowers and food while pulling an annoyed face as she left the room, not caring if there's a camera in the room that Howard was probably watching from...One day Howard is going to get what's coming to him she's sure!

    Fifteen minutes later...

    Cindy came back to Mr. Lyles room with a tray of food and a new batch of flowers, she placed the tray on Lyle's lap while putting the flowers in the vase. Cindy turned to Lyle and asked. "So...Will that be everything?" Cindy said, Lyle just grumbled and spoke. "Leave..." He said as he started eating from the tray, Cindy just turned and left the room, knowing Lyle wont be the kind of person who talks to people like her, as she left, Cindy closed the door behind her.

    "Geeze, what a rough start tonight." Cindy thought to herself as she was about to walk down the corridor for her next job...Then the bell rung, Cindy stopped as she looked behind her after hearing the bells. "Oh god...Tonight?" Cindy thought as she looked at the other doctors and nurses in the same corridor stopping what there doing and running off to find the nearest phone, Cindy should go find one as well, even though she got tired of the pre recorded message she always had to answer every fete...Cindy might not know how dangerous the one the fete was called on is...She soon heard shouting coming from Lyle's room as he screamed. "NURSE, NURSE...NURSE!"

    Cindy quickly rentered the room to confront Lyle. "Is something wrong Mr Lyle?" She said worryingly to the patient...Who pointed to the ringing phone at the other side of his bed. "Oh...Right." Cindy said as she walked towards the phone. "And put it on speaker." The demanding man said as Cindy did what he said and pressed the button.

    "Lets see who's the Fete's for this time...And hopefully I can leave before Lyle blows a casket..."
    • Love Love x 3

  3. "It's comfortable, it's cozy, it's perfect. See that wall over there? Throw up a painting. You could shift the couch over here, so you can look out the window..."

    As enthusiastic as he was being about promoting the house he was in, Shane could tell the terrified woman before him wasn't really listening. She stood, wide-eyed, rocking back and forth on her heels with fingers clutching at her neck as if she would soon attempt to throttle herself silly. He sighed, knowing this wasn't the first "client" he'd had to deal with who was in this state, and it wouldn't be the last. But the truth was that she had to accept where she was, and how she was going to live her life from now on, or...well, things could potentially get nasty. Ever since he'd started this gig, he was one of the first few faces a newcomer to Cascade Falls would see, and he endeavored to make the process as painless as possible. Make as many friends as possible. Connections got you everywhere especially when you needed a little push. Who was to say this woman wasn't a person of influence in her former life? Sure, right now she seemed like she was about to piss herself with fear, but she'd get over it. They always did.

    "I want to-"

    "You want to have a great life here in Cascade Falls, I know." Shane cut her off abruptly, knowing I want to go home was on most people's minds. It had been on his mind, too, give and take three years ago. And here he was, selling the illusion of a wonderful life. The house was nice enough, though; cream-colored walls and furniture already included. Its previous owner had been...evicted, much to the delight of the ravenous mob, but the house he left behind was still nice and welcoming. Briefly he wondered if ghosts existed; because if they did, he was pretty damn sure that this place was filled with them. What atrocities had gone on here before his arrival that he still didn't know about? Not knowing was worse than anything else. It put him at a disadvantage; and here, you needed some kind of advantage to survive. He wasn't going to sit back, relax, and let the faceless overseer pilot him for the remainder of his life. But a job was still a job; and until he had a better alternative, a solid plan...he had to stick with doing what he'd been doing since he got here.

    "H-How long have you lived here?" The woman asked.

    "Many wonderful years. It's so hard to recall the exact length. Time passes when you're having fun, am I right?" He knew the exact length, though: three years through counting the seasons. Three years that seemed like an eternity trapped in the bowels of hell. The realtor flashed an effortless, pearly grin as the woman forced a thin smile in return. "Listen, Miss...Thompson, did you say your name was?" The woman nodded, and Shane's naturally dimpled grin widened. "A wise man once told me to live in the present. This-" He gestured grandly at the living room around him. "-is the present. So no more tears now. Tears are precious; don't waste them. Besides, they mar your beautiful face." He consciously softened his expression, softened the tone of his voice as well until he felt like a mother having to soothe her irate child. But it worked; Miss Thompson stopped crying.

    "Okay. I'll take it." She said eventually through a final sniffle.

    "Excellent!" Shane took her hand - it was freezing cold - and shook it fervently. "Now, there's just some paperwork we have to deal with and-"

    The bells. They sounded throughout the town like the triumphant soundtrack to the return of a great hero. Miss Thompson tensed up again, pulling her hand from his grasp and wrapping her arms around herself like a makeshift straitjacket. She was swaying like a reed, her face ashen and her eyes wide and bloodshot. Perfect timing, thought Shane bitterly. Now the woman would have her chance at getting traumatized before she even had the opportunity to settle in. Even after three years it was hard to bleach the images from his head. Blood pouring from an open throat wasn't exactly a picture you could sleep off. Damn it.

    People were beginning to pour from their houses. That some were actually excited about this made him sick. And what made him even sicker was the fact that even he derived some sort of wrongful thrill from the hunt. It wasn't until they'd found the intended target and he was pleading for his life that the reality of it all actually sank in. This was a slaughterhouse and they were all animals waiting their turn. And it was so, so easy to get lost in the pack mentality. The phone nearby continued to ring, refusing to stop until it had been acknowledged. Shane found his voice. "One second." He picked up the phone, listened to the prerecorded message, and then slammed the receiver down with tension seeping from his shoulders. Even though he'd always been confident about his obedience, there was always the lingering fear that one day it would be him the townspeople were charged with hauling in.

    "Unfortunately, Miss Thompson, our deal will have to wait. A fete has been called."

    "A fete?"

    "You'll find out soon enough. Jeremiah Allen - he's who we're looking for."


    Shane suppressed a sigh. "Follow the crowd, Miss Thompson. Follow the crowd. I'll be back for you later." He adjusted his tie, slipping out onto the street where a small mob was already beginning to gather. But the mob wouldn't stay small for long. The fetes had a way of riling up the most primal of emotions in people, stoking their desire for blood. Perhaps such events were commonplace hundreds of years past, but he didn't expect it to last till modernity. But Cascade Falls was different. Oh, it was different in so many ways. His life here, his wasn't much different from a doll in a playhouse. All for show. Playing his role kept him safe, kept him reasonably sane...but there would be no sanity in what would take place once Jeremiah Allen was found.
    #3 Alekto, Dec 6, 2015
    Last edited: Dec 8, 2015
    • Love Love x 3

  4. Kiera watched as Casey missed another shot and shook her head with mirth. She wasn’t much better herself, but it was fun to play – even if she did her best not to dwell on the memories she had of playing before her arrival at Cascade Falls.

    ”Nice try,” she said softly and sincerely. She was mentally keeping track of how many drinks Casey was buying with wholehearted intent to repay the girl over the course of the coming weeks.

    A quick flip of her head tossed her loose blonde hair over her bare shoulder as she bent over the pool table. The dark navy fabric of her jeans stretched, ever so slightly, and accentuated the roundness of her derriere. She dipped lower and brought her eye closer to the level of the table. The red strapless halter gaped and provided an unobstructed view of cleavage. She continued to line up her shot, seemingly unaware of anything else.

    The tip of cue stick slid through the index and middle finger of her left hand as she made a quick and efficient stroke. The cue struck the white ball and sent it rolling straight into the yellow-striped nine-ball, which then rolled smoothly across the green felt and fell easily into the corner pocket.

    Half-lidded blue eyes drifted to, and then lingered upon, the man behind the bar as she held her pose an extra few seconds, after the nine fell into the pocket. She then rose slowly and focused upon Casey as the edges of her lips curled into a satisfied smile.

    ”You know…,” she began before an uncommon noise caused her to stop mid-sentence.

    The mirth on her features faded as her attention was stolen by the ringing phone. After the briefest of moments, a smile, though tight-lipped, returned to her face. She did her best to not show that it bothered or startled her. This was just a part of life in Cascade Falls, she reminded herself, and did her best to adopt a sense of casualness, as if this was an expected call from a close friend.

    When no one else moved, she carefully placed her pool stick on the table and, just as slowly, began to approach the constant ring. They had to answer the phone when it rang. Though, she was certain that Riley would get there before her - they were always watching - a token show was the least she needed to give them to remain safe.
    • Love Love x 3
  5. [​IMG]

    ♦Location: Charlie's House-The Streets ♦Mood: Nonchalant/Restless-Nervous ♦Outfit: Damaged By Chaos

    Charlie was just waking up from a long and well deserved slumber, he didn't get a lot of sleep in Cascade Falls. He could hear robotic barking on the side of his bed. "Benji... I'm up, I'm up." His robotic dog that he got from the Toy Store would always bark at him when he wouldn't wake up early enough. Benji was his personal alarm clock. "What..." Charlie was about to ask what time it was, but Cascade Falls didn't have a time. The only time he knows about is the time he has been in this town, which was Two Years. Two fucking years, it was just crazy how long he has been here.

    Charlie knew better than to talk ill about Cascade, he didn't want anything bad to happen to him. He knew how that psychopath Howard operated, so he would play nice and keep his pretty smile on, like usual. He went to take a nice hot shower, that was one of the only things he did enjoy in this horribly depressing town. He could hear Benji barking at the closed door, which just made him smirk as he stood in the shower.

    After twenty minutes, he was now in his room getting dressed. He didn't have a lot to do today, since he didn't receive any complaints yet about someone's water pressure being too low or that their sink was acting up. Charlie was glad that he could actually have some peace and quiet for a change, but he just didn't know what to do with it. Having peace and quiet was rather foreign for the Town's Resident Handyman and Fixer Of Many Things.

    He looked down at his robotic pup and picked him up. "Benji, why do I feel like the robot when your the one who's made of bolts and wires?" He smirked and scratched under Benji's metal chin, which made the dog yip in joy. "Wow, you are really like a real dog... cool." He sat Benji back down on the wooden floor, going towards his downstairs and the living room.

    He spotted his boots next to the front door, deciding to leave them there for the moment. He took out his famous comb and started combing threw his beautiful raven locks, as he opened his fridge. "Damn..." He didn't have a lot in the fridge, which reminded him that Winter wasn't that far away. He would have to do some heavy stocking soon... or he would be eating dirt for the next coming months, literally.

    He decided to just make a bowl of cereal, nothing else would work for him right now anyway. He poured the milk and the cereal in a bowl almost the size of his head. He than grabbed a spoon that was almost as big as his hand. He started to chow down on the sugary cereal. While he sat there, he started to think about what his friends in his real life were doing. He was glad that Howard didn't have the power to read his thoughts, or else he would have already been executed.

    In the two years Charlie has been in Cascade Falls, he had tried to escape maybe twice, and both times it didn't end well for him. He knew that after a couple of strikes, Howard wouldn't be soo forgiving, no matter how much charm Charlie would use on him. Now when it came to the fence, he had lost count of how many times he had been near it. He couldn't understand why the fence had to be electrified AND have razor wire covering it, that was overkill if you ask him. Maybe one day if he could get the others to work with him, they could all devise a plan that would actually get them all out of here. He knew that he couldn't just go out in the town and talk to people about making plans, since some of them would go and tell on him... which obviously wouldn't end well for Charlie.

    After finishing his huge bowl of cereal, he sat the bowl in the sink and started on his daily routine. Even if he couldn't go to his usual gym anymore, Charlie still kept up with his body using the things he had around his house. He had placed a steel bar between his kitchen entrance and living room exit, which he used as a pull-up bar. "One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six." He kept going until he had achieved two hundred pull-ups. He dropped down from the bar, and started doing push-ups. He gave a grin towards Benji, who seemed to bark everytime he went up and down, as if the dog was keeping count for him. "Thanks Benji, but I think I got it."

    After a few more push-ups, Charlie stood back up, taking a seat on his couch. He had his head laid back on the couch's arm. He laid there for a few seconds, until he heard a ringing. His eyes were closed, but he opened his right one. "Please... not now." He turned to where the ringing had come from, it was the dreaded phone. He knew that it wouldn't stop ringing until he answered it, which he did and listened to the message... which always sounded the same as the others but with different names and different acts. He hung up the phone after the message ended, this time the fête was for Jeremiah Allen. Charlie liked the man, he would always chat with him when he went down to the Coffee Shop, now he would be apart of his death... that would be SOO fun. He bent down to rub Benji's head. "I will be back later, guard the house for me boy." He grabbed his boots and placed them on his feet. He went into his kitchen to get a butcher's knife, just to "look" like he was excited about this. He stepped out into the soon to be chaos.

    He noticed that most of the townspeople had dressed up for the event. He hasn't been involved in that many fêtes, so this was kind of still fucked up to him. He didn't get why people were excited about harming another human being, most of them might use this chance to get out their frustration but it was still wrong, to him it was. He hoped that he wouldn't find Jeremiah, he would play dumb and not try to look for the man.

    While he walked with the savage pack, he noticed a man in a suit and tie not that far ahead of him. It was Shane Valles, one of the only people in this town he consider family, and they also had a great business relationship, being that Charlie was the Town's Handyman/Construction Worker and Shane was the Town's Realtor. They would work with each other on a lot of things. He moved past the increasingly growing crowd, and tapped Shane on the shoulder. He placed his butcher knife in one of his belt buckles, before smiling at the other male. "Hey Shane... ready to go uh killing!" He said in a cheesy redneck accent.

    Interaction(s): Shane
    Mentioned: Howard, Jeremiah, Shane

    Tagged: @Alekto

    #5 Master Justin, Dec 7, 2015
    Last edited: Dec 7, 2015
    • Love Love x 2

  6. Kenneth was behind the counter as he always was, his head buried into a new book. It wasn't anything particularly interesting or exciting, but in a town with not much to do it's important to engage oneself in an activity. Without any computers or phones the options, as he soon found out, were very limited. Most days, he would be fairly occupied in the library; either being engrossed in a book or helping the people check out a book. There were also mp3 players; ancient things really, but it constituted one of the few sources of entertainment that wasn't in paper form.

    In his short time as the librarian of Cascade Falls, he's come to recognize some of the regulars that visit the place. There was Isadora, the schoolteacher, who would often come by to pick up some educational books. There was also Kiera. In contrast, her book choices consisted of DIY and 'how to' books. Though whenever either of them, or anyone else for that matter, entered the library, he would acknowledge them with a single nod and get back to his books. Sometimes one of them would engage him in small talk but truthfully, what they borrowed told him more than any conversation he has had so far.

    His mind was rather active today. The subject matter of the book didn't help in distracting him from his thoughts. He put down the book and let out a sigh. The sound seemed to echo loudly in the silent room. It was only him in here after all.

    Kenneth closed his eyes and reflected back onto his brief time here. Many of the residents, Kiera among them, were kind and helpful to him; some of them even sounded eager, overly so, in helping him with his transition. Even so, it wasn't necessarily something hard or painful. It seemed that the few people he talked to had a family over the gates. Yes, Kenneth had his mother and father, but he wasn't necessarily close with them. He didn't have any other close family members either; his entire extended family being in Japan. He didn't feel the same detachment many of the other residents have. In truth, he experienced little change in being here. In fact, he adjusted well. The environment was quiet, there were much fewer people than the busy streets of San Francisco, and the place was a lot cleaner too.

    Still, there were some things that bugged him. The lack of clocks and calendars for example. For someone like him who was a strong scheduler, it was rather disconcerting at first. He was like a ship without navigation equipment. He managed in the end though. The same way man always had before the invention of clocks. There was also the sheer amount of nothing here. He realized very quickly that it's extremely easy for a person to go insane in a place like this. Even Kenneth had his limits.

    His silent rumination was interrupted by a soft clearing of the throat; Kenneth shaking his head and looking up at the person who was holding out a book in front of their hand. "Ah. I'm terribly sorry. Let me get that for you." He offered an apology and took the book to scan before giving it back. He waved goodbye as the person walked out.

    He sat back in his chair, perching his glasses up the bridge of his nose. There was still a few hours before he was done for the day. Or so he thought.

    The ringing of the phone attached to the wall startled him. He swiveled around to the phone. He had never experienced it before, but the residents have told him what it meant. It wasn't something he was particularly fond of. It reminded him of that one movie. What was it again? The name escaped him.


    A rather large crowd was making their way down south towards the centre of town, which was where the sheriff's office is. While such an unforeseen event would have usually put a dent in Kenneth's plans for the day, such a large scale event meant he devised a procedure for himself for this very moment. While he was heading in the same direction as the crowd, he would soon split ways down one of the streets which led to his house. So far though, he managed not to draw attention to himself by looking like the rest. The baseball bat in his left hand would enforce that impression. Though it's actually for self-defense.

    He had been stocking up on canned food and bottled water for such a moment. Kenneth had no intention of participating in the event. It was safer to hole up and fortify a stronghold until the perpetrator had been captured, or, since this was an enclosed city, killed. Not that was it striking. Capital punishment was legal in Japan. Although this was really something else entirely...

    The crowd was lively and walking at a slightly faster speed than normal walking pace. It was rather embarrassing to admit, but was having some trouble keeping up. He put up a mental note to try and get in better shape as he sighted the block where he would separate from the crowd.
    • Love Love x 2

  7. "That'll be 29.50," Alison told Mrs. Morris with a soft smile as she bagged the last of the woman's groceries. She pushed the white plastic bags in her direction and took the pieces of paper that were to be exchanged instead of actual money. Alison felt she could never truly get used to the feel of Cascade Fall's special currency as she held them in her hand and counted. She had been in the town for five years now and managed the grocery store for just as long yet still she couldn't help but to miss the crispness, the color and the even the smell of the U.S. dollar. She never spoke of her feelings however, she knew very well that she couldn't. Pressing the button on the cash register, Alison placed the "bills" into their corresponding compartments and handed the change to Mrs. Morris. "Here's your change, have a nice day."

    She smiled as she watched Mrs. Morris exit the store and waved softly as the bell rang and a couple more citizens came in to get what they needed for their homes. The store wasn't too busy this morning but there were a few citizens of the Falls doing their weekly shopping. Alison stepped out from behind the counter and went towards one of the fruit displays. She shifted some of the pieces around, ensuring the display was absolutely perfect and nothing was out of place. The fruits that would go bad soon were pushed to the front while the best were pushed more to the back. She then moved over to the cereal aisle and arranged the items in size and brand order. Some of the residences would just place their items back and in the wrong place. Ali took pride in her store. If she had to be in this town, then she would do her best to maintain what was given to her.

    She smiled at her regulars, Joe as he brushed past her and Melissa as she grabbed one of the cereals off the shelves. Noticing the gap, Ali quickly shifted the cereals forward. She just couldn't leave it like that. As she was finishing lining up the items on the shelves the phone by the counter rang. The entire store came to a stop. Everyone just stopped moving, stopped speaking, stopped smiling. For a second, Ali was stunned. Her feet were planted on the ground and she could do nothing to coax them forward. She breathed in deeply and forced herself to move towards the phone as she saw the various patrons of the store begin to stare at her to see if she would answer it. The phone had to be answered.

    Slowly, Ali moved towards the phone and once behind the counter picked up the receiver. She didn't even have to say hello. The message began to play immediately and the familiar voice of the Sheriff played into her ear. "This is Sheriff Eric Reed, a fête has been called for Jeremiah Allen. He works at the coffee house, but his current whereabouts are unknown. Bring him to the center of town for punishment and disposal.” Ali's breath hitched and her eyes opened wide. There hadn't been a fête in quite some time. Secretly she had hoped that she would never have to experience another one. Each one always took another piece from her and she felt herself becoming less and less like her true self. But there was nothing she could do. Every citizen had to comply and participate in the sick celebration. Riley's bar was sure to be bustling tonight.

    She set the receiver back down, sighed deeply and turned towards the store. Each person was staring at her, waiting to know what the call was about. She cleared her throat and spoke, "A fête has been called. Jeremiah Allen from the coffee house is to be brought to the center of town for..." She could barely get the words out, a lump formed in her throat and tears welled up in her eyes. "...punishment and disposal." After she relayed the message, tears began to fall down her face.

    Each person dropped the basket they held and moved towards the the exit. Ali wiped her tears with her sleeve and began to untie the grocery apron around her. Pulling it over her head, she set the apron upon the counter and moved towards the exit just like everyone else. After each person exited, she locked the door to the store. She couldn't have Jeremiah hiding there.

    Everyone was beginning to pile into the streets. Some were distraught, others jumped around in their excitement. Ali was somewhere in the middle. After five years she knew what was expected of her. She hated the fête but to not participate would mean a punishment for her. She had seen first hand how rebellion was treated in this town, she wasn't about to subject herself to it willingly. She simply kept paced with everyone else and headed towards the center of the town.
    #7 La Reina, Dec 10, 2015
    Last edited: Dec 10, 2015
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  8. Fatigue pulled at her thin shoulders like invisible weights, leaving a dull ache to agitate her mood. Not that the young doctor had been having a fantastic one as it was. It was quite, like always. Utterly mind numbingly boring. The woman even two years after the fact missed the fast pace of the Mayo clinic. The thrumming heartbeat of the controlled chaos. Late nights spent in the ER in the center of that Chaos. It had been messy, it had been terrifying, it had been thrilling, and she was in the heart of it all at those moments. A person’s life in her hands, depending on her to save them, and she had leapt at that challenge, strived to succeed. Though now? She was a trauma surgeon for goodness sakes! Though she hardly had the chance to put it into practice more often than not. There was the odd case here or there where someone hurt themselves working, Mr. Avery Howard for example has had a few nasty accidents in his work shop to name one. That sort of excitement sadly was a rare occurrence. No the most exciting thing she might see is appendicitis or a compound fracture on a typical week. Life was quite here, she like peace, she even like quite at times. Though this? This wasn’t what she had wanted.

    That sadly, wasn’t her choice now. No, so very little was her choice. Lexia ran long, cool fingers across her face, a yawn leaving her as she finally pulled herself to stand, putting a hand to her lower back as she stretched, trying to make that tension in her back release. Her bright, hazel eyes glanced down at the stack of paper work she had laid out before her. This, this of all things she had been doing for the last two hours of her life. There weren’t many people on staff, there never was, she could count the number of actual nurses in this hospital on one hand let alone number of doctors. So this sort of paperwork? Well it was left to the poor shmuck that pulled the short straw that week. The shmuck of the week just so happen to be probably the only one who could curse about the hand cramps when they set in, in both English and French. How this sleepy hospital made this much paperwork that actually needs to be filled out is beyond her. Lex pushed a breath of air past her lips, blowing a few stray strands that had managed to fall loose from the number of pins she had secured In her hair to hold her hair up in that sharp, tight bun. She leaned over once more, her messy cursive scrawling across the line before she simply slipped them into the manila folder to put on top of the number of others that had built up beside her spot she had taken behind the nurse’s station to finish. It was probably the last place the doctor wanted to hang out. Anyone who knew a thing about here behind these sterile walls was the fact she avoided a certain nurse like the plague.

    Though, anyone who has meet Norma, let alone been trapped in the same general area as her for long periods of time on end for two years? Well, she doubt anyone could blame her. In her short life, in the life she had before, she had seen people who were competitive, determined, cut throat. It came with the job. Doctors were completive, cut throat, they strived, thrived to be better than the next. To be the best in your field. Get published in journals, to be the one everyone turned to for the how. Though Norma? She was something else altogether and she honestly frightened the doctor to her very core. Yes she was a coward, she knew she was one, even if she chose to call it having an acutely heightened survival instinct, she was one. Her very presences sent her on edge, so why she chose to do her paper work at one of the nurses stations? Well, to be brutally honest, it was closer to filing cabinets, and the sooner she was done she could drop them off and avoid this area all together. She had been fortunate most of the nursing staff had been busy as it was, they actually had a few patients that needed attention, the city even had a new mother and child to take care of, so this little burst of relief was something she counted on to get this done. And it was, as was her shift.

    Lexia deposited the files in the metal drawer of the filing cabinet before she scurried her way to the staff locker room, pulling the pins from her hair as she entered the room and scurried to her assigned locker, depositing her doctor’s coat as she worked to shimmy out of the rough, dark blue scrubs. Falling into the mechanic repartition that was getting done with a long day, the last five hours of her shift had been a frenzy of caffeine filed paper work and helping to bring a new life into this world sort of event. To say she was tired was an understatement, and she was pretty sure at this point she was never going to get that foul taste of the break room coffee out of her mouth. God, it was almost bad as Avery’s attempts at using a coffee maker. Though it at least got her through the mind numbing agony of filling out reports and suggested treatments. She wanted nothing more than to stumble into the bar and grab a few drinks before collapsing in a heap on her couch. She would probably make the effort to go up the stairs of her two story home to get some sleep in an actual bed. That is to say if she wouldn’t spend what little time she would have before her next shift just lounging on the couch finishing up the last few chapters of Pride and Prejudice.

    That thought made her pause, fingers hovering over the hem of her snow white sweater, her hair still stuck under the fabric as she quickly tugged the light weight sweater the rest of the way over her tank top before she dug into her messenger bag, shuffling though a number of things; an extra set of scrubs, box of gloves, notebook, keys, that fuzzy sock she has spent the last week looking for, she even had a suture kit, face mask and even her favorite scalpels. She hadn’t put the entirety of her emergency kit, but she did pack essentials, but that wasn’t what was missing. “It’s not here….” She muttered, letting her shoulders slouch as she sighed. She must have took it out during her break to read. She couldn’t just leave it here, it was a library book after all….and she really, really wanted to finish those last few chapters.

    With a resigned sight the dark haired woman fastened her jeans before pulling her bag back over her shoulder, scurrying out the locker room before she broke into a light jog to make her way back to the nurse’s station, hopping to retrieve the book before a certain black haired nurse made her rounds back that way. Though as she neared the station, black sneakers making the slightest squeak on the polished tile flooring, a ring broke though. The doctor came to a sudden jerking stop, she would be embarrassed to admit that her shoes might have squealed a little. It seemed to only gain the attention to the red headed nurses that had entered the open space. Though she didn’t spare the brunet much of a look as she scurried behind the counter to answer the rarely heard ringing, answering the phone with flourish.

    Lex watched the older woman as she played with the end of her braid as she listened to what was being said on the other end of the phone. Red painted nails tapping absently against the clean white plastic. Lex’s heart hammered in her chest as a cold chill settle over her body as those full, ruby red lips split into a large, manic grin filled with all the excitement and joy of a child on Christmas day. While Lex? Well, Lex could only pale further as what little color that filled her cheeks seemed to drain. Though even though she knew, she knew she wouldn’t want to know, curiosity did her in. “W-what is it?”

    She nearly flinched back at the woman’s grin being directed at her as she hung up, a proverbial skip to her step as she came closer. “It’s a Fête!” She squealed, “You lucky duck! You got off just in time too!” She pouted crossing her arms under her chest, making the woman take a few steps back before stepping around her so she can rush over to where she had been sitting, fortunately finding what she was looking for. “What you waiting for silly?” She chirped at the doctor, showing too many teeth for the brunets liking. “It’s Jeramiah Allen. It’s just a simple hunt and bring back to the center of town though.” She said tapping her chin, that manic look of joy having turned into a slight one of disappointment. “Not quite as fun as the last one, but I guess watching the Sheriff handle it might be a little hot. Don’t you think Dr. Hart?” She giggled turning back to the young doctor as she hurriedly stuffed the book in her bag before she pulled one of the covered scalpels from her bag to place in her jean pocket along with a pair of latex gloves. She had to at least look like she was prepared. She had hardly noticed the question asked of her, if she had, the poor thing would have likely been more then a little pink.
    “Yes well, Diana, I must be going. “ she quickly muttered adjusting the strap as she steped back around the older woman.

    “Oh…alright hon, you get a good lick in for me won’t you? Me and the others will be out as soon as we got someone to watch the place.” She cooed, waving cheerfully. “Have fun!’

    And like that, she was practically sprinting down the halls and out the doors of the hospital, it took only a glance around to know a Fête was on. She’s only been in town for two years but she’s seen a few before. Her hands were steady, they always were, but the same couldn’t be said for her knees as she took in the people who were looking around, they were hunting, looking for the poor man in question. Though what was more horrifying then the friendly grins and giggles that filled the slightly nippy air? The fact this flet as normal as decorating for Halloween or Christmas?

    It was the more than a few had dressed up in costumes or masks. She even saw a man dressed as a jester. It was Fête and she rather be anywhere but here. Part of her wonder if she would ever come to terms with it…worst of all she had to pretend, she didn’t want a strike, no she didn’t, worst of all. Who knew how someone would react. No. She pulled the surgical blade from her coat pocket, keeping it tightly gripped in her left hand as she made her way down the street, stepping around an excited young couple, they peering in foliage gleefully as she passed. It was a Fête and it might just bring out a side of humanity that honestly horrified her. She doubted the color would be back in her cheeks let alone the feeling back in her knees that night. No, not when the beasts of humanity prowled and blood lust clung to the air like frost on a cold morning.

    Meanwhile at the Jester’s Toy box, a certain dirty blond stood near his store window. Bright blues peering out and the stoic faces mixed with the jolly sorts. People in masks, in their Sunday best, some even wearing costume that he thought might fit better with a holiday like Halloween. Though maybe this was something similar. The monsters you are hiding from though might just be your own. Something under his skin itched crawled. Though what frightened him the most it wasn’t the people sporting their best paired with axes, knives, and all manners of blunt objects. No it’s the fact a part of him, a part he hadn’t seen in a long time told him. ‘Just one time, it’ll be fun!’ it would whisper ‘It’s not like you haven’t done this before, what’s one more?’

    Avery crossed his arms, shaking off those thoughts as he went back to straightening the display, sending a friendly wave or smile when he caught someone glancing his way. The glasses wearing man had answered the call not long ago at all. He had had a store full of parents and children looking around. He had just finished ringing up Mrs. Fox, when he had heard his store phone start ringing. That moment he announced that the event was going on, the parents had practically lifted up their children and went running out his door. A Few looked mildly concerned, which his sanity greatly appreciated. While the rest? Well they looked nearly as excited as their little boy or girl had looking at the handmade toys.

    Needless to say the man didn’t run out after them. He ran his fingers through his already messy hair, as he turned back from the front door to go straighten up his cash register. Even his employee had ran out as soon as it was announced that there was a Fête in progress. The girl had looked so excited as she tossed her obnoxiously bright yellow and blue aprons that matched the pale, canary yellow and blue detailed walls that matched the blue outsides. It was bright and cheerful like store, that held an array of toys out front everything from a teal teddy bear with a pink pok-a-dot bowtie, to a trainset that circles the inside of the store on a mounted track. Though right now the man wasn’t thinking about the newest toy he could make as he was cleaning up. Now he was thinking of the nice older man who was being hunted, stalked through a town that he often found it hard to call home.

    Though at least he had something else to worry about. Something he didn’t doubt he might get in trouble for in the long run….if not lose a friend. He had invited Sammy, a man he had met who was a little odd to say the least, but a good guy. He had become a fast friend, even if he was a little concerned at times that the poor guy didn’t eat nearly enough, let alone sleep. He swore half the people in this gosh darn town made him want to tuck them in bed and make them stay there until the dark circles were gone. Avery was pretty sure though that half of them might slug him for it. All of that aside, he had invited Sammy earlier that morning to come over and help him clean up a little, maybe invited him over for dinner so he was sure he was actually eating well. That plan though might have to be put on hold. To call Sammy high strung would be an understatement. He’s seen guys come back from war less wound up. He’ll have to do something, he wasn’t too sure if the younger man could handle the horrors that someone’s first Fête could bring on them.
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  9. Settling back into Cascade Falls had been, in one of the greatest understatements of the century, a difficulty. Sampson had spent the last four years of his life scavenging, burrowing through trash and through woods in search of tiny treasures and anything to help him survive, dodging shambling monstrosities whose echoing howls haunted him in the sleepless nights and startled him awake in his nightmares. He had grown accustomed to sleeping in the boughs of trees, wrapped in shaggy blankets and rotting fabric with one eye open and a chill in his bones to keep him from being caught unaware. The sounds of forests, of coyotes howling and birds singing, of crows conversing and deer tiptoeing, had become comfortable and familiar. He'd learned, with time and with many many painful slip-ups, to listen and to live outside of the safety of Cascade Falls's barbed fence. Sammy had been back for a month now, and it was nothing but four weeks of ill sleep, of wariness, of uncomfortableness, of feeling naked and unarmed and unable to sleep for the hum of electricity, the silence and the stillness of a building where the sharp scent and texture of the elements couldn't reach him.

    By the second week he'd taken to night walking, to sleeping in trees when he could get away with and roofs when he couldn't. He'd been warned off of this habit more than one time, but after the joy of being back--of seeing humans again; of hearing them and speaking to them--had worn off, no warning was enough to keep his insomnia at bay. Amicably, smiling and relaxed, he would retreat out of the trees and back to his house, but the moment he knew officer or neighbor or watcher had moved on he slunk back out and was back in the branches again. It was safer outside where he could feel the weather, smell the air, and hear the crows.

    A stroke of luck had come to him in the form of Avery. The guy seemed to get it and he didn't give Sammy odd looks when he dropped to the ground in a crouch when startled. Avery didn't judge his need to inspect every room he entered before relaxing. He didn't question when Sammy would slip into his home at ungodly hours of night, sleep-deprived and twitching, armed with whatever sharp object he could find and babbling nonsense. It was something that Sammy, who was dealing with the fallout of coming from a highly dangerous, stressful environment into a place where the greatest danger was what color to paint the living room, did not undervalue. So of course when, early in the morning when Sammy was awake by reflex rather than want, he received a call from the toymaker to help in the shop that afternoon, he accepted without thought. He was good enough with his hands, beat up as they were, and Sammy knew that there was a fairly ridiculous mess in the basement that the dirty blonde hadn't exactly dealt with.

    He'd arrived with a lopsided smile and his hair barely tamed from its mess, and had been grateful that Avery hadn't said a word about the circles (darker than ever) under his eyes or the new bruise on his left shoulder from breaking down his own bedroom door in a flashback. He'd taken it down this time--three times in as many weeks was a good indication that the thing needed to go. "Hey, toyman." He'd chirped, voice a bit hoarse from an extended panic attack last night, and allowed himself to be manuevered into the back room to help clean. He was in his own little world, listening to Avery and his employees chat in the main room while he lifted boxes of toys gently into shelves for restocking later, when the call came. He didn't think much of it--it was a toy store, it made sense for the phone to ring--but there was a tone to Avery's voice that Sampson didn't recognize, and an annoucement of an event he had never heard of. He frowned and set down the box of wood pieces he had been sorting through onto a free shelf, wiping his hands on his jeans as he did.

    The young man moved into the main room as the sound of people scattering echoed, his brows drawing low at the sound. He wasn't sure what would scatter the inhabitants of Cascade Falls--if anything he'd noted they were disturbingly oblivious to the dangers of the world and he couldn't tell if the talk and hurry was one of excitement or great distress. He thumbed a scar on his chin as he opened the door into the main room, cocking his head as he strode in and caught sight of Avery. "What's going on?" He asked, voice trailing off to nothing as he came to stand by Avery, peering out of the shop. His expression curled into a frown, brows lowering further as his eyes darted from person to person gathering on the streets. His muscles tensed, body stiffening when he started to notice makeshift weapons and tools and caught the undeniable feel of bloodlust in air. "...Avery what is this." His voice was cold, low and a bit gravelly and he was settling into a ready position unconsciously, nostrils flaring and pupils dilating as his heart rate increased, his adrenaline surging up unbidden.

    He swallowed, thickly, and forced himself to turn away from the growing crowd outside, staring intently at Avery. His eyes were narrow, his expression almost violent as he stared at the shorter man, working his jaw shortly. He wasn't sure he wanted to wait for a response; he wanted to bolt out there and find the head of this...this mob. His right hand twitched, aching for the makeshift glaive he had worn before returning to Cascade, and he broke himself away forcibly, turning towards the back to get his keys. His scars were itching. The damaged muscle in his leg was aching. His head was buzzing and his lungs were screaming. He needed to move.
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  10. [​IMG]

    Isadora knew the day wasn't going to yield good things. When she woke up that morning, she'd found herself alone in her bed. Her husband worked at the grocery store and she knew for a fact that his shift didn't start until afternoon, because that's the way it had always been and nothing in Cascade Falls ever seemed to change in relation to people's daily schedules.

    "Neil?" She'd called out softly into the darkness. The woman woke up early every morning to get a head start on her day, but mainly because the crisp morning air made her more energetic then coffee did.

    She heard a crash and a thump in the next room, and she approached it quickly, her robe wrapped tight around her body. "Neil?" She called again, this time with a little irritation dragging behind her words. Her husband poked his head out of the study with a nervous smile, his eyes darting this way and that. Left, right, left, right. His gaze just screamed 'I'M HIDING SOMETHING'. And being the person that she was, she wanted to know what it was. But even though one of her many past times included snooping around, she didn't want to have to snoop for these answers. She wanted her husband to tell her right there and then.

    "Is something wrong, honey?" She inquired, desperately hoping he would just say it. Desperately hoping that he wouldn't make her snoop around about her own husband.

    "No, nothing. I just remembered something I had to do. And I just finished doing it, so..." He approached her hesitantly and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Goodnight. Or should I say, morning? Heheh." And with that he fled back to the bedroom, leaving Isadora irritated and dissatisfied with the turn of events. When she was sure that he was asleep, she rummaged through the study subtly, as it she were just tidying things up, but she didn't find anything, and that just made the day worse.

    She came to school with a sour attitude and it didn't help that the lower elementary school teacher was trying to teach her students how to adore Cascade Falls by singing a song about it. Isadora had the lyrics, "Fence, fence, fear the fence. Monsters lurk beyond!" stuck in her head the entire day.

    So when the phone in her classroom rang, interrupting her lesson about what to do about those who spoke about life beyond the fence, she wasn't very surprised. My day is already complete shit, why not add a fete to top it off! She thought angrily, but steeled her features and picked up the phone. She repeated the message to her students and was disappointed to see that some of them were practically drooling at the thought of being able to rip another human being to pieces.

    "Alright guys, well you all know what to do. I know you are all excited to participate in the fete, but remember to leave the room in a single file line and refrain from knocking other students down on your way out." She cast a big blonde boy with jowls, who had a tendency to trample anyone in his way, a pointed look and he gave her a sheepish grin. As the students filed out, Isadora started to pack up her things carefully and meticulously. "And for those of you who prefer to lie in wait, remember the most common sighting is most often the best sighting, just take care not to stand idle." She chirped. Most of the students were too excited to ignore her, but she knew that some of the more...Moral and sensitive students had heard her message loud and clear. 'Stick around the target's workplace, and they probably wouldn't see much...action, as only an idiot would return to the place where they were most commonly seen.'

    When all the kids had dispersed, Isadora finally left as well and headed to where a mob was forming. People rushed past her dressed in their best clothing, gripping a variety of weaponry and she hoped to hell that Jeremiah didn't get caught, but that was unlikely. After all, where could he go?

    Stopping briefly, Isadora took the time to apply a bright red lipstick, and tied her hair into a tight bun, completely with a pretty brooch. She hated the fêtes, but if she didn't look like she loved them, she held no doubt that she would be the next person being chased all over town by an angry mob. She spotted Neil standing at the edge of the crowd, and grabbed his arm. The older man, jumped then calmed down when he saw that it was just her. He cast her a nervous, wavering smile and Isadora rubbed soothing circles into his back. A woman dressed as some sort of marionette shot her a suspicious glance and Isadora grinned at her widely. "Just calming him down. He gets so excited he just leaves me behind and he promised that he'd hunt with me this time." She gushed, and the woman gave her a knowing glance and thankfully looked away. Isadora wanted to throw up, she hated having to pretend like that and she hated having to act like Neil was some slavering psychopath, but the truth was that he hated violence and got a serious case of nerves when having to participate or witness it. He couldn't even check the traps for mice because the trapped rodent made him want to cry. Seeing her husband so vulnerable made her almost forget the morning's events.

    #10 Mundane Monster, Dec 10, 2015
    Last edited: Dec 10, 2015
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  11. “I thought I told you to go home?” Sakamae heard Eric’s familiar voice as he entered the lobby. She met his gaze with silence and a blank expression, masking the thousands of things that were going through her mind at once. When she first started living in the town nine long years ago, she was still largely the immature college student who wanted to throw a tantrum because she couldn’t dye her hair some obnoxious color and expecting her brother, Reiner, to arrive any day. She recalled a more optimistic Eric as well, but the years hardened them. Still, it didn’t stop her from being shaken up when he recently told her about the chips implanted in every single one of them and his plan to let Jeremiah go. The chips only scratched the surface and he trusted that she’d support him. It was hard not to. With all the false hope turned to frustration, all it took was a spark. So, she hid in her bedroom closet the night before and knifed out the chip from her thigh, cursing all the wasted years of complacency and telling herself that Reiner was gone for good, along with everything else in that past life. It was time to take action.

    Though she’d never admit it, she was still just a little scared. There wasn’t much left to lose, but she considered the possibility that the truth of Cascade Falls might be worse than any of them could possibly imagine. “I will. I just need a drink,” she replied to Eric’s second mentioning of her still being around. She got up slowly and put on her leather jacket, listening to him make his way to Jeremiah’s cell. It was impossible to hear, but she knew he was telling him what was about to happen. The sheriff’s footsteps made it to his office, leaving her alone with the jailed man. The water she got from the water cooler was suddenly difficult to swallow. She threw out the paper cup and walked over to the cell, recalling what Eric explained to her about the cameras and how long it took for them to avert their gaze.

    “Be quick,” Sakamae whispered to Jeremiah as she pulled out the keys from her jacket at the right moment and unlocked the door. “And be safe,” she added as she opened the door. He gave her brief hug before he made a dash for the exit, leaving her alone with the sound of her heart pounding that she could swear the microphones were picking up. She stared at the wall of the jail cell, motionless. For the first time the cameras weren’t watching, but she could barely lift up her shoulders for a deep breath. She could’ve danced by herself and it would’ve genuinely been a private moment, but there wasn’t anything to celebrate yet. She was still a townie that needed to do her duty of hunting down the man she had just let free. Hopefully it’ll be different this time, she thought as she went outside, watching people beginning to gather around and begin the hunt. Maybe blood won’t be spilled, but if there’s one thing she learned from living in the town it was that you shouldn’t get your hopes too high.

    Riley poured out some of the excess foam that rose to the surface of the glass before handing it to a customer with his practiced, though often genuine, smile. There wasn’t much variety when it came to career choice in the town. Most had to learn something new to make ends meet, but Riley remained where he was comfortable. He drank and bartended in Boston, so he drank and bartended in Cascade Falls too. Not much changed. The past still haunted him—the yelling and nonsensical rambling of his schizophrenic twin-brother that kept him up every night when he was a kid and the gunshot that slayed him and subsequently tore apart his family. A heavy, persistent and irrational guilt followed him ever since, but none of that was the town’s fault. In the town, the past only existed in his head.

    It’s okay here, he’d tell himself every now and then. He looked over at one of the pool tables, where Casey and Kiera were playing, checking to see if any of them needed more drinks. The pretty blondes were always good company, especially with some drinks present. He did a double-take when Kiera bent over to make her shot, giving him a view he didn’t ask for. Not that he was complaining. He chuckled and felt his face get hot for a second when she looked right at him after making her shot, casually returning to preparing another drink for a customer.

    However, the moment the phone started ringing, he instantly froze up and the entire bar went dead silent. He’d only been in the town long enough to witness one fete and it was something he hoped he’d never have to see again. It made him hate the sheriff and incapable of getting too comfortable. He noticed Casey looking at him in a particular way, as though she were expecting the call to be for her. She hadn’t been in the town very long, but her difficulty in assimilating made her a possible target. And in that short time he’d grown fond of her, enough that if he had to watch her be executed it’d absolutely crush him.

    He hesitated before picking up the phone just a foot away from him. Last time it was Peter, his boss and the bar owner, who picked up the phone, but this time Riley was the closest to the phone and it was his turn to step up to the plate. He picked it up without saying a word, listening to the familiar voice he couldn’t stand. His eyes closed and he let out a short huff in relief that it wasn’t Casey to be brought to the sheriff, but no matter whom it was, the event still disturbed him greatly.

    “The sheriff has called for a fete on Jeremiah Allen, an employee of the coffee house,” Riley announced, speaking loud enough for everybody to hear. He pulled up a bottle of spiced rum and placed it on the counter, along with a double shot glass. “Find him and bring him alive to the center of town, where he will be executed,” he explained as he poured and downed the shot of rum like it was water. He noticed Peter wincing at his choice of words, but it was what it was and for many people in the town it was what they lived for, as sickening as it was.

    “We’ll be open afterward to celebrate,” Peter added as the bar began to empty out. Riley brought out two more shot glasses once the bar was almost cleared out, looking over at Casey and Kiera.

    “One more drink before we go? It’s on the house,” Riley offered, pouring the rum before he got an answer. He looked at Casey solemnly, suddenly realizing that it was probably the first time she was going to experience a fete and that Jeremiah worked at the coffee shop along with her. The bluntness in his announcement was instantly regretted. He never thought anything through. “The sheriff has no idea where he is. He could be long gone by now,” he explained softly as he poured the rum into a flask, using a funnel. He fully intended to be unconscious if Jeremiah was found.
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  12. Kiera paused as Riley picked up the receiver. Then offered him a warm smile of acceptance. It couldn’t be easy to hear the recording and then repeat the message aloud. As he spoke Jeremiah Allen’s name, a sense of relief, which she did her best to conceal, washed over her. She was glad that it wasn’t anyone she was particularly close to. She knew him, of course, like she knew all of the residents of Cascade Falls. Most were merely a list of medications they were prescribed, with the odd allergy added. It was a bit unnerving, when she thought about it, that, in a population of three hundred and sixty, less than a dozen were close enough to be considered a friend.

    She dawdled, as the more eager residents left the bar, and then approached the counter. She gave Riley a look of fondness and a smile of appreciation. ”Make mine a double, please.” It was her plan to be blackout drunk by the end of the night – easier to forget the up-coming events.

    She glanced over her shoulder at Casey and then signaled for the younger woman to join her. As she did, she tried to recall if Casey had been present for a fete. It was likely to be a traumatic night for the girl if she hadn’t.

    The thought weighed upon her mind as she stared at the liquid in the small shot glass. Then, without a second thought, she tossed the liquor back. She closed her blue eyes for a long moment and relished in the burn as it passed her esophagus, then reopened her eyes, arched her brow, and offered Riley a silent, pleading look for another.

    ”You’ll watch out for her tonight, right?” she asked quietly of the bartender. ”At least until the after-party?” There was the subtlest hint of underlying sarcasm in the last word.

    She waited long enough to receive a response from Riley, inspect her shot glass for a remnant of a drop, and tell Casey that she would see her later. Then Kiera exited the bar.


    No more than ten minutes later, Kiera arrived at her home. After unlocking and entering the door, she picked up the bat which rested just inside and flipped on every light.

    ”Jeremiah?” she called for the cameras and microphones, the bat at the ready.

    She checked every room, looked under the bed and inside each closet, and then ensured each window was closed and intact. It was as much for show as precaution. They were meant to search the town after all.

    Once she was sure that he wasn’t inside, she retrieved a bottle of whiskey from the pantry, and then sat the bat on her bed. She stripped out of her clothes, without care of the cameras. There was a constant awareness that they were there, and equal awareness she couldn’t do a thing about them. If someone wanted to perv to a recording of her dressing - then so be it. She was certain there were likely a number of such videos across the net and probably even a few amateur porn vids, too.

    She crossed to her closet, pushed her daily wardrobe to the left, and picked out a ridiculously risqué red dress from the back. Outside this town, it was likely she would never attend an event which called for such a dress, but here, in Cascade Falls, there was always the fete.

    She removed her strapless bra and tossed it upon the red halter and skin-tight jeans, then slipped on the dress. It was full length and fit snugly around her knees shortening her step by more than half. She slipped the two-inch straps over her shoulders, the deep V-cut ended at the base of her sternum, and adjusted the cloth to properly cover her breasts. It was backless; the cloth plunged down to her waistline, and gave the distinct feel that it’d fall off if she engaged in strenuous activity. Once dressed, the pharmacist opened her makeup bag, powdered her face a pale white, blended it into her natural complexion, and then selected the brightest shade of red lipstick – one she had called hooker lipstick, at one point in her life - and applied it.

    Blue eyes found the full-length mirror against the wall. The dress hugged her curves and exposed an exorbitant amount of skin – enough to blush over. She took another chug from the whiskey bottle – liquid courage. The outfit reminded her of something a starlet would wear on a red carpet, and her makeup was like something she imagined a geisha would have worn. She scraped her top lip against her bottom teeth. What she saw was still her easily recognizable reflection. She needed more.

    A glance around the bedroom revealed an old masquerade mask, pink and purple feathers sprouted from the right side of its glossy turquoise finish. She had bought if from the antique store as a decoration. A few minutes later, the mask was removed from its place on the wall and a piece of elastic was fastened to its back.

    She was finally in costume and the costume was perfect. Jeremiah was an older man, and she jogged miles every day. If she was unfortunate enough to see him, before he was given to the Sheriff, the dress would properly restrict her. She needed only add a pair of heels and it was ensured. As she looked at the mirror, a sense of calmness fell over her and she sat the whiskey bottle aside.

    A sigh escaped her lips as she locked the door to her house and rested the baseball bat, with a kitchen knife duct taped at a ninety degree angle, upon her shoulder. She had likely wasted a good half hour, or more, as she put together her costume. With any luck, Jeremiah would already be caught and on his way to the center of town. The phones would ring when that happened. How else would everyone know the hunt was over?

    She walked to her next-door neighbor. Her heels clacked on the sidewalk and echoed up the street, and announced her presence. She knocked on their door; if they were following the social norm they wouldn’t be home. When no one answered, she made a show of looking around the property. It wasn’t long before more people joined her and her charade became real. Life was but a stage, and hope made tomorrow brighter.

    She hoped Jeremiah wasn’t in her neighborhood.
    #12 Seeking Calliope, Dec 11, 2015
    Last edited: Dec 11, 2015
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  13. It was like her mouth was full of cotton, a familiar feeling from better times, but there was no happiness inside of her when Riley broke the news. In a way, Casey wished the fête had been for her, that Eric had chosen someone else to sell out, someone who didn't matter so much. From their meetings in the mausoleum, Casey knew all about Jeremiah's life outside of Cascade Falls, the wife and children he had been taken from, and the lake house that he hadn't even gotten to spend a full summer in. He was never going to get to see his old life again, and the guilt from that knowledge weighed heavily on her. For a brief moment, Casey thought she might be sick.

    As the bar began to clear out around her, patrons with varying degrees of excitement in their hearts, Riley's offer of one last drink was appreciated. Although she was new to the town and hadn't made many close friends, Jeremiah was special to her. Every morning at the coffee house, he greeted her with a smile and despite the cameras always watching them, his actions had never felt anything but genuine. In the back of her mind, Casey supposed that if it wasn't him, it was just going to be someone else who didn't deserve it and no matter what, Eric would have to do his job.

    Swallowing hard, Casey approached the bar and eyed the shot of rum. “Where would he even go?” she asked quietly, and picked up the short glass with shaking fingers. Next to her, Kiera did her shot and made arrangements that should have sounded helpful, but they only came off as patronizing. Casey watched the other woman leave the bar, and wondered if she had become desensitized to the violence, or if she was just putting on a brave face. Empathy hoped for the latter.

    I don't want to go out there,” she admitted with a shake of her head, full shot still in her hand. Her fingers felt sticky as she looked to Riley and wondered if anyone would notice their absence. “He's my friend.” Everyone in the Underground was, while Casey didn't want to witness a fête for anyone, she didn't want Jeremiah's to be her first.

    There was something beautiful in the unity that overtook Cascade Falls during a fête, beauty in the power that he still had over his playthings. Leaving the mountain for a walkabout the town usually resulted in sitting in another office all day, cooped up and listening to problems that he couldn't, and didn't feel like solving, information that added up to nothing more than gossip. A celebration was different, however, people were happy, genuinely excited about something and that sense of camaraderie seemed to stay with them for weeks at a time. In Howard's mind, it was a win-win; the town stayed safe and the insolent were dealt with. Paradise was still exactly that.

    After leaving the safety of the mountain behind, Howard ventured out into the town. Many people greeted Doctor Harmon as they passed, smiling faces decorated with scarce make-up, dressed in their best and most outlandish outfits and hands clutching makeshift weapons of all kinds. Howard smiled in return and joined the walking crowd, the surge that forced its way down Main Street. His own hands were free, his clothes modest and the only addition to his face were a pair of wire-rimmed reading glasses. He looked normal, the same way he did in his psychiatry sessions, and no one was any wiser.

    Has anyone seen him?” Howard asked brightly, hands in his pockets as he walked along, clearly spotting Isadora, a trusted cog in his master plan, and not too far off was Alison, the nervous girl who managed the grocery store. It could have been her up there, it could have been any of the people who surrounded him, and even the cowards who had chosen to stay in their homes. It even could have been Eric himself, and Howard liked being armed with such knowledge.

    Not far off, stumbling through the trees that surrounded the town, Jeremiah slipped and slid across the uneven terrain. The tunnels that sat beneath the city weren't viable, too dark to aimlessly wander through and the supplies should have been for someone who had a chance. Behind him, Jeremiah could hear the roar of the crowd, men shouting for him as they hunted him like prey. He was too old to stave them off for very long. The laughter of one man hit him the same way a lead pipe did; right in the gut.

    The Sheriff's Station housed at little less than half of the real weapons in town, and Eric had never understood why. Cascade Falls was supposed to be perfect, a magical place where nothing should have been solved by violence but Eric had cut a little more than ten throats in the last eight years and had watched an unfathomable number of citizens be beaten, ridiculed, shunned and emotionally manipulated into the point of breaking. With each day that passed and each injustice that tolerated, Eric became a little more disillusioned with the place. The worst part was his own job, the role that he played of judge, jury and executioner for a man who was too scared to do it himself.

    The way he looked at it, he was no better than Howard.

    That fact alone made it harder to pick out the large machete from the weapons rack. It had been hand-crafted, blade lovingly sharped by some maniac inside of the mountain after every fête and the handle was stained from celebrations past, a time when Eric hadn't even known this place existed. With a heavy heart and a deep sigh, Eric gripped the heavy knife and locked up the cage; he hoped Jeremiah was already long gone.

    Outside, the town was in a frenzy, worked up into a potential riot as those who chose not to hunt began to celebrate. There was bathtub gin being passed around, private stores that were supposed to be illegal, but Howard had never batted an eye. At this point, Eric had lost sight of Sakamae, and wondered if she had taken his advice, or if she was helping Jeremiah get the hell out of dodge. He took another deep breath as he stepped further into the street, toward the center of town with his happy face on.

    As he walked, there were numerous slaps to his back, cat-calls inspired by blood lust and one woman passed him a lipstick-stained bottle. Eric paused long enough to take a drink, wanting to be drunk, completely hammered in order to get through the night. Around him, people cheered as he drank and when Eric opened his eyes again, the first person he saw was Howard. He was toward the front of the crowd, turned toward him like everyone else, but his smile was pure amusement that bordered on unrestrained glee.

    Smashing the bottle onto the ground, Eric shoved through the crowd, offering no words of encouragement as he resisted the urge to show them who the real monster was.

    There was a makeshift stage in the center of town, illuminated by heavy floodlights now that the sun had finally set and Eric wasted no time in stepping onto the platform. His movements were sure, easy, but alcohol didn't dull the guilt and anger that welled inside of him. “Welcome to the fête!” he shouted to the inflamed masses, machete raised high over his head to further the depravity. Eric looked to the crowd, every face familiar and the ritual became that much more disturbing.

    Toward the back of the large crowd, a group of men approached with a nearly limp body in their arms. Jeremiah was bloodied and beaten, bruised from head to toe and squinting through the bright shine of the lights, it looked as if he'd been stabbed. Bile bit at the back of his throat, but Eric swallowed hard, knowing that Howard was looking at him, knowing what the entire town expected.

    It's not right!” Jeremiah screamed, voice raw and powerful despite his weakened state. One of the men carrying him delivered a punch to Jeremiah's abdomen. “They're hiding,” he gasped, writing in pain as the crowd began to part, “everything from you! Ask them what's outside! You have to know!”

    Heretic!” Howard yelled in return, clearly trying to rile the people around him. “The sheriff keeps us safe!”
    • Love Love x 3
  14. Cindy listened to the pre recorded message about Jeremiah Allen, poor guy, she hopes that he manages to get away from the citizens and probably find away through the fence...Then again not much people rarely survive a fete nowadays. When the message ended Cindy turned to check on Mr.Lyle. "How are you doing Mr..." But as Cindy turned she noticed that Lyle had already fallen asleep before the message even finished, so she snuck out of the room and continued to walk down the hall.

    After dealing with another patient Cindy caught wind of cheering doctors and nurses who were preparing to leave the hospital, shocking Cindy as there was a lot of other patients that need there care, she walked towards the group and asked. "Where are you going...What about the patients, there's still tons that need to be checked!" Cindy said sounding a bit angry in her voice but still trying to be cheerful, the nurse from earlier was in the group and came up to Cindy rather happily. "Robertson, haven't you heard? They caught Jeremiah and there about to execute him at the sheriffs station, there's still a few doctors and nurses here so come its going to be fun to see Jeremiah become limpless!" The nurse said with a few giggles from behind her.

    "Uhh...No thanks, I think I'll stay behind and check on..." Cindy said looking at the list of patients on a board near her, quickly finding a name, Cindy chooses Lisa Megans. "Lisa Megans from floor 3...I just want to check to see how she's doing." Cindy said looking happy once again, The Nurse shrugged and said. "Well ok...You don't know what your missing." As she rejoined the group and left the hospital, leaving Cindy alone in the hall.

    As Cindy speedwalked towards the stairs she soon found the elevator instead and decided to take it. "Well...Its more faster." She thought to herself as she opened the elevator and walked in, pressing the button for the third floor of the hospital.

    As she waited for the elevator to close Cindy looked around the halls to see if anyone else was coming.
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  15. Shane was looking down at his shoes, unconsciously admiring the polish as if doing so would detach his mind from its urge to participate in the dirty festivities. But as more and more bodies joined the thronging crowd, he could already feel the sick anticipation building at the pit of his stomach, rising until it became a kind of euphoric nausea that both titillated him and made him ill all at the same time. Some took it a step further and emerged from their homes in harlequin costumes and sequined masks, as though they were prepared for Cascade Falls's own version of Mardi Gras. It shocked, reviled and thrilled, even though it wasn't the first time he was witness to, and a participant in, something that had become part of the town experience. Some found escape in it, perhaps, turning their frustrations onto another. Humanity loved its blood sport, from ancient gladiatorial conflicts to bullfights to the more modern boxing matches to everything else in between.

    But whatever his thoughts were or would be, they were summarily interrupted by a tap on the shoulder and a familiar face. In that instant that the realtor saw tall Charlie and his effortless grin, Shane temporarily forgot the reason why they were out here on the streets in the first damn place. The handyman always seemed like he could infuse sunshine into even the most twisted and volatile of situations, and he appreciated the man for that every single day. Despite that, the sight of the butcher's knife at Charlie's belt brought a more pronounced twist to his insides and made him hope to whatever divine was up there that they wouldn't find Jeremiah Allen. Despite the other man's apparent enthusiasm, he was pretty sure Charlie felt the same way. They were all pretending here. If Jeremiah Allen had to be found, he could only pray that the sheriff would make it quick. That would help assuage some of the guilt regarding the victim's unfortunate fate. But the last thing he wanted to do was add to the ominous atmosphere, so he stood up a little straighter, returned a dimpled, pearly-toothed smile and pretended they were going Easter egg hunting instead of potentially dragging man to his gory end.

    "Right back at 'cha, buddy." He reached to clap his friend - whom he'd come to see as a younger brother - heartily on the shoulder, wishing he had brought some weapon of his own so that he didn't feel so out of place. But he had nothing. No butcher's knife, no baseball bat...just him, his fancy suit and his shiny shoes. The call for "celebration" couldn't have come at a worse time. But as the crowd rushed to bring the "traitor" to justice, it seemed from the whispers and shouts going around that some had already gone the extra mile and found Jeremiah Allen. Shane breathed harshly in through his nose as a passing stranger offered him a bottle of gin. He accepted without batting an eyelash, took a generous swig, and then held it out to Charlie with a faint, lopsided smile. "Cheers, Charlie. You'll probably need it." If he had to watch a man getting his throat cut, then he could at least be drunk - or at least a little buzzed - while he did. The last time, his state of inebriation had suppressed his morals enough that he let out a loud whoop at the moment the blood hit the ground. Then he'd gone home and thrown up in the sink.

    By the time he got to the stage, people were packed like sardines around it, pushing and shoving for the best view. It reminded him of a rock concert like the ones he used to attend, or the parties every summer at South Beach. That was, if he didn't already know better. Seeing the machete brandished in the sheriff's hand made that all too clear. While the crowd shrieked profanities and jeered the bloodied Jeremiah as he was hauled towards the stage, Shane simply stepped aside and let the group of larger men pass, knowing that in their inflamed state they wouldn't hesitate to turn their fury on anyone else should they interfere. Not to mention that interfering went against the town's rules, and nobody wanted to be the next unwilling sacrifice. No; they would rather stay in the midst of the crowd, a faceless beast waiting to feed on the pain of an innocent. The spark of the initial announcement had gone from his system, replaced by a growing sense of dread.

    "What the hell is he talking about? The guy's nuts." Shane murmured under his breath, just loud enough for Charlie to hear as Jeremiah began yelling. He wouldn't admit it - he always tried to play things cool - but the words disturbed him, digging right down to his core and staying there; but the shouted accusation of the victim being a heretic had already stirred up many in the frenzied gathering. Already the curses and hurled insults were increasing, though Shane felt no urge to participate in the man's degradation. The realtor took another drink of gin as if his life depended on it, wishing that it would hurry up and relieve him of his values. He wanted to actually sleep tonight without seeing Jeremiah's face on his ceiling.
    • Love Love x 4

  16. Kenneth had gaze directed down onto the asphalt. He didn't want to see the crowd. It made him nervous, on edge. He didn't want anyone to recognize him here of all places. Just what that would do to his reputation; the consequences would be terrible. And in such a small town, it wouldn't be hard to bump into the same few people. Occasionally, he would steal a glance to make sure he wasn't bumping into anyone. Every time he did, he would tense his arms a little more and clutch his bat just a little tighter. He occupied himself with seeing his beads of sweat drip onto the pavement. A mundane action. A simple action. What he had always strived for. Cascade Falls gave him that, for the most part.

    All he needed was to turn right and he'd be on his way back home. Somehow, the crowd seemed to have gotten bigger. There was an atmosphere, and energy, that he had never experienced in this town before. It was like someone had flipped a switch every person was riled up. This usually peaceful town with its usually peaceful residents had suddenly turned rowdy; it had an almost manic quality to it. He spotted a young woman who was in the library just yesterday. She had borrowed some sort of romance novel. Now she's raising a makeshift spiked bat in her hand. To his left, an elderly man who he would pass every day on his way to work. He noticed the limp he always had yet insisted on never needing a cane. From his age, maybe some sort of war vet. The way he carried himself in this crowd only served to add to that assumption, with combat knife in hand and a rigid pose to match.

    It was unreal, all of it, that something like a public manhunt could turn these people bloodthirsty so quickly, and so easily. Perhaps it was the lack of entertainment? There were no TVs here, or computers, or any of the modern technology that the residents here have grown so accustomed to in the outside world. Something like this served to engage them.

    He too, was beginning to get drawn into it. Despite everything else telling him to turn right, head back home, barricade the door, and keep safe, there was something that was pulling him into the flow of the crowd. Curiosity? A sense of belonging? Or maybe some repressed desire for blood? He couldn't quite pinpoint it out. All he knew was that by the time he looked up again, he had passed his turn and was heading to the centre of town.

    He had been swept into the middle of town with the crowd. Kenneth was standing near the edge but he could clearly see a makeshift stage thanks to the numerous floodlights illuminating it. A lone figure stepped onto the platform. The sheriff. He had only exchanged but a few words to the man but from what he saw now, he had an air of detachment to him; like he was observing the entire event instead of being a part of it. But from his welcome cry, one couldn't have thought that. The entire crowd raised their weapons in a triumphant roar; an eagerness that amazed him. The absurdity of the situation was alarming. He had to be dreaming, he thought to himself.

    On the peripherals of his vision he had spotted a group of men approaching the crowd. Kenneth turned around to see one of them carrying a limp body. So they had already caught him that quickly? It wasn't all too surprising, really. The town was locked down tight. The criminal was trapped like a rat in a cage full of cats. The man, bruised and battered, began shouting something about hiding, and was given a firm punch to the abdomen. Kenneth flinched slightly at the sound, not being accustomed to such blatant displays of violence.

    He remained silent, bat by his side, as the criminal was brought over to centre stage. Curiosity, he told himself. He was curious. Probably.

  17. Amy had just been getting her shop ready to close when the phone rang. Her entire body stiffened at the sound, but it was not for reasons people would expect. A smile flitted on her face and was gone in a second. She knew for a fact that the town was well-divided on this matter, even for those in power. She kept herself appearing to enjoy herself just the right amount without appearing ostentatious, keeping everyone on good terms. In all reality, the coffee shop owner thoroughly enjoyed these excursions. It was the only time anything interesting happened around town. She picked up the phone on the second ring, listening intently to the recorded message. Already, people were hooting and hollering. The few remaining in her shop jumped to their feet and joined the fray, not even bothering to ask her who they were after.

    A slight frown belied her usual excitement for a fête. Her own employee Jeremiah was being tragic. Even more worrisome, however, was that she had completely forgotten about Lilith, the sixteen-year-old girl she had taken under her wing. The amnesiac had been the talk of the town for a longer time than usual, being one of (if not the) first to not remember even her own name. She understood English well enough but had no familiarity with slang terms or idiomatic expressions. Amy managed to teach her most of what she needed to know, but it was often still confusing for the girl. And, even more surprisingly, her amnesia had made it beautifully easy for her to become accustomed to life. The girl didn't seem to care about the outside world, and she had never even tried to go past the main part of town.

    The true complexity of the situation was that Lilith had never experienced a fête before. Would her adopted daughter's perfectly pristine record be dashed when she saw what this town did to people during what seemed to be a celebration? Amy supposed she would find out soon enough. Locking her shop's door, she made her way to the town square where everyone gathered. In only minutes, people were dressed in crazy costumes and dancing like there was no tomorrow. For once, Amy did not find it amusing. She instead looked carefully for Lilith, the one person she had a fleeting care for in this damned town.

    "Where on earth could she be?"

    As she looked through the crowd, the sound of cheering filled her ears as Jeremiah was dragged like a dog into the square. The sight was shocking even to Amy. He was bruised and cut like ribbon, and she could only dread the idea of Lilith somewhere in the crowd without anyone to shield her eyes. She then spotted Isadora and her husband. Perhaps she knew where Lilith was. Making her way over, she grabbed the woman's arm as gently as she could in her growing panic. "Have you seen Lilith by chance?"

    @Wonderful Thing


    Lilith had been reading lazily in the library, having taken a day off from working at the pharmacist's. Her mind was calm--serene, even--until the phone rang. Her eyes flitted upwards as she looked at Kenneth, the librarian. He answered the phone in what seemed to be a hesitant manner. Silently, Lilith wondered what this was all about. The phones in town had never rung before, and her mother had never bothered to mention anything of it. After all, it was a small town, and there was hardly a need for someone to communicate over telephone when the person they needed to talk to was likely less than a block away.

    "What's this abo-" she started to ask, but Kenneth was already gone. Even more peculiar, all sorts of people were gathering towards the center of town dressed in strange outfits and makeup. Some of them were hardly recognizable. Lilith got to her feet, placing a bookmark on her page before heading towards the growing crowd. Was there some sort of celebration going on? How very odd, especially given the town didn't seem to have any formal celebrations. Not even for birthdays, from what she could surmise. Her eyes scanned the crowd as she looked for her mother, who would no doubt be here to see what all the chaos was about. Although, Lilith seemed to be the only one confused about the situation as she wandered rather aimlessly. In their frenzy, people hardly noticed she was there as they danced and pumped their fists in the air. Some of them were wielding bats or pipes...almost like they intended to use them as weapons.

    Becoming a little frightened, her search for Amy became more frantic as she looked around wildly. Just as she spotted her mother about 40 feet away, the yells got louder and even more chaotic--which was somehow possible. She followed their gazes and audibly gasped, though no one could hear it over the roar. Jeremiah...he was...

    "This is horrible," she breathed, and one man seemed to have heard her. His eyes were like daggers at first when he looked at her, but his expression softened only slightly when he saw it was the poor amnesiac girl. She probably didn't know better, and this was her first fête. It was shocking to the best of the new residents. The man decided to let her comment slide, as he seemed to be the only one who had heard her. Lilith bit her tongue, quickly deducing that this was not the place to voice such thoughts. She had adjusted to life quickly in this town, and it was strangely helpful that she didn't remember her past at all. She didn't even get fleeting glimpses of it in dreams which Dr. Harmon had found to be strange, as most amnesiacs had at least something tucked away in their subconsciousness. She was not that fortunate.

    Even so, she had never thought the town was all that bad...until now. Now, everything came together in a new light as she looked at the cuts and bruises covering Jeremiah. Everyone here...they were celebrating this cruelty like it was a party. Even her mother had seemed to be enjoying it, although Lilith couldn't be completely sure as she had only saw her for a moment before Jeremiah had arrived. Lilith listened carefully to Jeremiah's strangled cries of desperation, and everyone looked at him in disgust.

    Though she tried to look away, she just couldn't. Her eyes remained fixated on the man who was slowly losing his will to fight...his will to live. Working at the pharmacy, her mind automatically jumped to a number of medicines that could keep his wounds clean and reduce the pain, but she knew that trying to help him would only cause her own death as well. And what good would that do anyone? As the screams and the yells grew louder, Lilith could only stare into Jeremiah's pleading, desperate eyes. The eyes of a man who was about to die.
    • Love Love x 1

  18. Charlie smirked at Shane, he could tell that the man was as excited for potentially killing a man as a fly was for being hit by a flyswatter. He would never get how people were so ready to actually not only see someone be killed but also join in on the "fun." He shook his head, Charlie was glad that his mind hadn't sunk to the level that most of the other residents of Cascade Falls minds have. He hoped that it would never get to a degree when he actually felt comfortable with chopping someone into little pieces.

    He was in his own world right now, but than Shane spoke to him again. "What?" He saw the bottle of gin in front of his face. Charlie took a sip, or more like a gulp, before handing it back to Shane. He wiped his lips off on his shirt. "Thanks... probably will be the only way I'll get through this." He let the gin work it's way through his body, feeling the warmness of the alcohol. He flipped his hair behind his head, as he noticed someone coming forward. "Look who's here..." Charlie moved out of the way as Dr. Stuart Harmon, the man that could end someone's life with just a command, came by him. He resisted the urge to do a mocking bow towards the old man, knowing it wouldn't amuse him.

    Soon after, the Sheriff, Eric Reed came towards the bunch of maniacs. Charlie chuckled at how the man threw a bottle on the ground. "Overdramatic Much?" Charlie didn't trust Eric at all, that man was up Stuart's ass more than anyone else in the whole town. "I guess "Prince Eric" over there is going to do the deed." He hoped that no one would get to do it, he hoped that Jeremiah had gotten away and was long gone by now. All the hope in the world had vanished the second Charlie saw a group of men carrying a beaten and half-alive Jeremiah towards the stage. He looked down at the ground. "Shit..." He said under his breath, he should of known by now, there was no hope in Cascade Falls.

    He couldn't believe how everyone was filled with soo much bloodlust. He bets half of these people don't even know who Jeremiah is, which made it even worst. It was as if the townspeople lived off of a good fête or something, it was fucking sick to him. Charlie listened to the words Jeremiah started to yell out, probably the last words the man would ever speak. The words the man spoke, they stuck with Charlie. He knew that Stuart Harmon was a sneaky bastard, he just wished he knew what the old man was doing or was planning to do. Cascade Falls was like some robotic town from some cheesy 1950's film... just horrible in every which way. His attention was brought back to the horrible reality, when Stuart called Jeremiah a Heretic. That was a blatant lie, Charlie wanted to call the man out on that, but he knew no one would take his side... since most, if not all, were scared of what Stuart would do to them.

    He turned to Shane. "Yeah... nuts, but..." He was about to say something else, than he noticed how many of the maniacs were around him, so he stopped talking. There had to be someway to get the real truth about Cascade Falls and the Doc. It would probably take a lot of work to get people to grow the balls to stand up to Stuart, but Charlie would rather try than never try and die in Cascade Falls. Not wanting to seem out of place, he took out his butcher's knife and shot it towards the darkening sky. "KILL THE HERETIC!" Charlie gave an ever so secretive wink towards Shane, he would play his part... for now.

    ★Location: Main Street ★Mood: Calm/Friendly-Annoyed/Pissed Off/(Acting Enthusiastic) ★Outfit: Damaged By Chaos ★Interaction(s): Shane ★Mentioned: Shane, Stuart, Eric, Jeremiah ★Tagged: @Alekto @neptune
    #18 Master Justin, Dec 19, 2015
    Last edited: Jan 11, 2016
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  19. As Alison marched along with the crowd she noticed Howard walking with them. There was something about that man that unnerved her. He had an air about him that made her want to run for the hills. She always hated it when he was around. He just spelled bad news and she did everything she could to avoid his gaze. The crowd ended at a large stage like area, flooded with artificial lighting, the sheriff taking his place in its center. The crowd finally came to a stop. Shouts emitted from around her. She turned behind her and saw the limp body of Jeremiah being dragged towards the stage. "Oh no," she whispered to herself as she watched the coffeehouse attendant being brought before the sheriff.

    Tears welled up in her eyes and she her best to wipe them away before anyone noticed. She didn't want to seem weak even though that was exactly how she felt. She didn't remember ever feeling this way before she arrived at the Falls. This town had changed her and it wasn't for the better.

    Jeremiah began to shout and Alison raised a brow in confusion. What was he babbling about? she wondered. Immediately Howard began to stir up the crowd. Something wasn't right, not at all. Her old journalist habits resurfaced and she began asking questions to herself about the situation. She never dared voice them. There were cameras and microphones everywhere and as much as she wanted to get to the bottom of things, she also didn't want to be on the receiving end of another fete.

    The crowd was becoming restless. Many wanted blood. Alison never did understand how some people could be so cruel. It was the circumstances, she told herself. It was kill or be killed. Follow the rules and end in a fete. It was the Cascade Falls way.

    Kill the heretic!

    Ali turned and noticed Charlie and Shane not too far from where she was standing, Charlie with a butcher's knife raised in the air. She sighed deeply and returned her attention to the stage. She didn't agree with the fetes and she wasn't going to reduce herself to their levels either. She wanted nothing to do with these events but not participating was the same as wearing a scarlet letter on your chest. She could only hope that it would all be over soon and she could head to the bar. She needed a drink or rather she needed to drink until she no longer remembered her name. It was the only thing that helped dull the pain she felt daily living in this hellish utopia.
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  20. Riley nodded as he handed Kiera her shot, mouthing the words ‘of course’ with regards to her asking him to look out for her friend. He watched her leave and told his boss he’d be back as soon as it was all over, though he wasn’t entirely sure if he would be. Watching somebody get killed was more than enough for him. The celebration of it was just gratuitous and unreasonably hard to stomach. “Well…,” he began, searching for an answer that might make Casey less scared, but it was impossible. “There’s beyond the fence, right?” he said quietly and devoid of confidence. Every moment that passed was painfully slow and he never felt so useless in his life. It was a crazy world with crazy rules, where the only bright side to somebody’s death was that it wasn’t you, and it just wasn’t the appropriate thing to say.

    “I know,” he said, wanting to say something nice about Jeremiah, but he didn’t know him very well, so saying that he was a good man just sounded stupid. He felt like everything he was saying and thinking was stupid. All he could think about was the fact that participation in the fete was mandatory and that they couldn’t just stand there in the bar all night. He kept thinking to say that the last thing he wanted right now was for it to be her, but it felt wrong. The fetes were meant to make them fear for their lives and the lives of their friends, and it succeeded every time. He hated feeling they were all losers in somebody else’s game. “Let’s just take a walk, okay?” he said as he put his arm around her shoulder and started walking slowly toward the exit. “We’ll stay away from the crowds.” He figured with everybody looking for Jeremiah, walking around aimlessly wouldn’t look too suspicious. If somebody found him, maybe they could say they were too drunk to realize everybody was gathering at the center of town and were looking for him the entire time.

    They weren’t outside for long before they heard a mob shouting in the distance that the wanted man was found. Riley winced. God damnit, he thought, so soon? He could see the stage at the center of town in his peripheral vision. It was far, but it was visible. Knowing that Casey must’ve heard the mob, he stopped in his tracks, not knowing what to do or where to go. He went to reach for the flask his in back pocket with his free hand, but hesitated. Though he wanted to be long gone by the time the sheriff needed to do his duty, he couldn’t bring himself to leave Casey alone knowing that was her friend up there on the stage.

    “I’m so sorry,” he said as he brought her in for a hug.

    Sakamae followed the crowd, observing those that craved for the death of another and the others that drank themselves until they were too numb to feel anything. Many were familiar faces to her, some of which she recalled were fearful and less than willing to participate in the hunt, but now were a part of the violent mob like the rest. She was grateful that the years in the town didn’t drag her down into the mud. The deaths and the crazed mob no longer shocked her. She was done looking down on those she perceived to be morally bankrupt. Afterall, for a very long time, she played along in silence.

    She caught sight of Lilith standing not too far away, looking scared and confused. She always thought the mandatory nature of the fetes were particularly cruel on the younger population. The event was traumatic enough for the adults; she couldn’t imagine experiencing a fete as her teenage self. The fear must be overwhelming, she thought. “I suppose the school hasn’t mentioned anything about the fetes,” Sakamae began as she walked over to her. “This isn’t something that happens very often,” she tried to assure her, though there probably wasn’t anything she could say that would remedy the fear. “Where’s mom?” she asked as she briefly scanned the crowd.

    However, she was interrupted by Jeremiah’s being delivered to Eric, all beaten up by those that found him. It had been a long time since she had been shocked to see a battered townie being sent to the sheriff. You were supposed to take the tunnels, she thought, knowing that with how quickly he had been apprehended, Jeremiah likely didn’t go with the plan. She furrowed her brow in disappointment and watched Eric maintain his composure, though she figured the same disappointment was swelling in him as well. No matter how hard she tried to keep herself from getting her hopes too high, she always managed to do just that. Jeremiah was a good man, but it took more than righteousness to be properly equipped to escape hell.

    “It’s okay to look away,” she said to Lilith quietly, expecting Eric the deliver the fatal blow at any moment.
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