The Badlands

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October Knight

Original poster
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
Fantasy, Horror and Sci-fi. I'll try basically anything though. I also love strange and unusual RP genre concepts. Different is good!

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Tragic loss is often the reason behind major life changes. It forces people to change, not only themselves, but also their surroundings. This is the very reason why Cliff Dean was currently riding on the number 113 greyhound bus, bound towards middle America, but more importantly that that, to a new life. After a serious bout with depression, due the the very sudden death of his lover and life partner, Cliff felt that his home in east Nevada had very little left for him. As he stared out the window of the bus he noticed that the bleak landscaped mirrored his feelings; Lost and drained.

Cliff had taken off his beanie and let his brown, shoulder length hair spill out around his face, he brushed it back with his hand and made a mental note to get a hair cut as soon as possible. He zipped up his black and red hooded sweatshirt and looked at his reflection in the window. The two hazel eyes that stared back looked tired and sad, and in truth, they were. Cliff laid his head back against the seat. And as he dozed off the bus crossed into South Dakota, home of the Badlands.

The great American Badlands, a viciously unforgiving stretch of nothingness located in South Dakota. Although the Badlands span across Nebraska and Wyoming as well, the most lifeless stretch is in South Dakota. And at this moment, where Greyhound bus 113 was traveling. Besides miles and miles of nothingness, every so often small road side diners, "last stop" gas stations and broke down looking motels would creep into view. Mostly places like this catered to the lost, road worn travelers that would find themselves here in the middle of nowhere U.S.A.

Cliff was suddenly jarred by a bump in the road and realized that it was night. Darkness surrounded the bus as it traveled into the night. Cliff looked out the window and saw that they were pulling into a stop as an announcement sounded over a loud speaker.

" Exit 163, north BadLands route 3. Last stop for 156 miles, all getting off exit now."

Cliff Decided to get off, after all, from here he could easily get another bus later. He needed a shower and just his luck there was a motel here. Besides the Motel and the bus stop there was a diner, but nothing else. Almost as soon as he had gotten his luggage in order the bus pulled back onto the road and disappeared into the night.

He walked across the street to the Motel and entered the lobby. An older man with a pair of thick rimmed glassed and a cigarette in his mouth looked up at him. He gace Chuck a look that said 'what the hell do you want?' For a moment, Cliff was sure that the guy was gonna send him away, but instead he asked.

"You need a Room?"

Yes, please." Said Chuck picking up an informational booklet as he waited for his key. The booklet read as follows

*****"A Paradise Lost" taken from Indian Legends of American Scenes. Marion E. Gridley. 1939. M.A. Donohue & Company. Chicago*****

There was a time when the land that is now the Badlands was a high plain covered in the greenest and richest of grasses and the animal people lived there in great numbers. The Great Spirit that had created this land decreed that all quarrels must be forgotten when any tribes were camped upon this plain.
For many years, many bands came together here, and though they might be unfriendly at other times, here they danced and sang and traded in peace. But then, from the western mountains came the people without meat or skins and with the look of a hungry wolf in their eyes. They wanted this place for their own and were not willing to share, so they at once set about driving off all the other tribes until there were no others on the plain.
A council was called to ask for help from the Great Spirit. But if He heard, he gave no sign. The people from the mountains grew fiercer and were not content to stay on the plain anymore. Now they went about the country seizing all villages that stood in their path.
The sky became cloudy from smoke signals sent as the tribes began to call upon others long distances away to help carry out an attack upon these mountain people. Warriors began to make ready for the great battle, and fighting men began to gather from every corner of the land. At last all were assembled and the day had come for the advance. Now the Great Spirit took matters into His own hands.
Dark clouds hid the sun from the face of the world. Lightning streaked across the blackness and thunder rumbled high over the hills. From the ground flamed forth fire, and the earth shuddered and rocked. A wide gulf opened and into it sank the mountain tribe—all their people and all they possessed. With them sank all life—the waving grass and clear spring and animals.
As suddenly as it came the storm ceased. The earth became fixed in waves as it had rolled and shaken. There was only a barren waste on which nothing has ever grown or can grow. The Great Spirit had taken away the lands that had caused wars among His children and left to those He spared the evidence of His power and His punishment.
Geologic evidence -- rock layers and fossils -- also indicates that a lush prairie ecosystem emerged here about 30 million years ago.
The Lakota people -- members of the Oglala Sioux, one tribe among seven -- have been living in this area for centuries. They developed a rich culture well- suited for the arid environment.
As explorers, homesteaders, and gold-seekers began moving West into Lakota territory in the early- mid nineteenth century, clashes erupted over ownership and use of the land.
The United States Army was sent to keep peace in the region, but ended up fighting a series of bat- tles, wars, and massacres with the Native people. Wounded Knee, just south of the Badlands, is the site of a famous engagement. The book Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee by Dee Brown describes this sad history of conflict.
The Lakota people refer to the harsh environment and rug- ged terrain as mako sica or "bad lands." Today, they work with the National Park Service to protect the south unit of Badlands Na- tional Park. You can learn more about their relationship with this place by going to the White River Visitor Center.

Cliff was startled from his reading when the man came back handing him his key. Cliff paid and headed to his room. He got inside and laid on the bed, nearly falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. It felt so good to lay in a bed after hours and hours on a bus.

However something was off about this place. Cliff had had a funny, almost sick feeling in his stomach as soon as he got off the bus. Something about this place was bad, rotten and sour. It was apparent and if Cliff wasn't so tired he might have never gotten off that bus, little did he know stopping here for the night would be the biggest mistake he had ever made.

Michael sat tied in the chair, practically growling at his captors. He'd come to this hotel on a bus trip 3 months ago, but he was drugged and kidnapped and placed in this strange chamber. The things they did to him, injections, test, electrical stimuli in the most painful places, only worked to steel his resolve.

He secretly plotted revenge, even as such a thing seemed undoable.

They came again, and the test began anew. He screamed at the top of his lungs.
Cliff opened the door, the motel was about what he expected for 39.99$. Nothing fancy; A bed, a table, a chair and a color TV. Cliff always thought it was funny how cheap motels in the middle of nowhere advertised "Color TV", like it was something special, but regardless, Cliff was more than happy to Have a bed to sleep in after the endless hours on that damn bus. For the time being all his problems were forgotten, everything was good.

He decided the first thing to do was to shower, then after that, go next door to the diner. He checked his watch, a quarter after 9pm, hopefully they would be open. He went into the bathroom and cranked the shower on. Next he undressed and got in. The hot water felt good on his tired body. He soaped up, rinsed off and then stood under the water, letting it cascade down his back. He was in a state of total relaxation, then his eyes shot open. He heard what he thought to be a violent scream. Then again with the water going full blast he couldn't be sure. He turned off the water and listened, but nothing. He dismissed it as his imagination, at the same time he prayed it was only his imagination.

He got dressed and headed to the diner next door. It was called "Eat at Ed's". He opened the door and walked inside, the place was empty; Ghost town status. A sign said "Please seat yourself" so Cliff did just that. For a moment he was lost in his thoughts, but quickly was jerked back into reality when he noticed a figure standing next to him. He looked up and saw a middle aged women wearing a white and blue flowered dress, over it was a white apron.

"Can I help you sweetie?" She asked smiling like a jackal, exposing a set of the greenest, nastiest teeth Cliff had ever seen in his life. Her hair, which could only be described as a "dead mess of nasty", sat uncombed onto of her head.

"Yea, can I see a menu?" Cliff asked

The women looked confused for a moment and then turned her head to the kitchen.

"ED!!!" She screamed in such a vicious voice that Cliff almost jumped out of his seat "Do we have any Dinner specials left!!!!!" Cliff was a little puzzled, he hadn't remembered asking for the dinner special.

A heavy set man in a butchers uniform came out of the back, his smock was covered in blood and chunks of meat. In his hand was a long knife that had some really old looking chunks of meat stuck to it.

"You Know we do Women." Said Ed the butcher, shaking his knife at her.

"We'll take one of those, Right Dear." Said the lady cocking an eye at Cliff

Cliff was a little shaken up, but he just decided that these people weren't used to seeing very many customers, or people for that matter. He nodded at the lady, wishing she would take her nasty teeth and hair away from him. She left and Cliff noticed ED vanish back into the kitchen. One thing was for sure, this place was strange, but then again what could Cliff expect…he was in the middle of nowhere.
Mike never felt so much pain. He whimpered quietly. Why would they choose him? He could not guess. He began to try and work his bonds loose, but was not successful. He closed his eyes and silently prayed for help.

Hours passed, and the tests began anew, but the screams were not stopped. He hoped someone had more strength than he.