[center [Abel [size15 [#0A7E8C 「] [http://rp.eliteskills.com/pm.php?u=4136 ιnвoх] [#0A7E8C 」] [#BF4F51 「] [http://rp.eliteskills.com/r.php?r=149621 ooc тнread] [#BF4F51 」] [#0A7E8C 「] [http://rp.eliteskills.com/vc.php?c=398771 rυleѕ/cнaracтer card] [#0A7E8C 」] [#BF4F51 「] [u rp тнread] [#BF4F51 」]
[center [Abel You wake to the sound of a scratchy record playing in the middle of a room. It's dark, but there's just enough light to make out what's around you. Other people you seem to recognize, but can't put a name to a face. More importantly, you can't remember who you are either. You can't remember your past, your family, or any relationships you may have had before you woke up. Everyone in the room seems to be in the same position as you. The door to the outside is locked, but you can see through the grimy windows that there are people- or what you think are people. They're not really human looking, and some have strange deformities or oddly colored skin.
The only thing in this place that seems to make sense is the phone in your pocket. It has an app open called [i Mastermind]. The only thing on it is a list of flower names with a gold star beside one of them. Opening it, you'll see a profile of yourself that has very little if any information at all.
A red light comes on and the record stops only to be replaced by a distorted male voice.
“Hello and welcome. Some call this place Hell. Others, Purgatory. You have questions, and so I won't waste anyone's time. I am the King of this place, and you've volunteered to play my game whether you want to or not. Just to make sure you're being a good sport, the bracelet around your wrist should keep you in line. Each time you fail a task or act up, the bracelet will gain a glowing blue bar. You want to avoid getting nine of those bars or you lose the game.
[tab ] You're all dead, so you can't die here. I can still, of course, inflict grievous bodily harm onto you or your competitors. Or maybe I'll decide to turn you into one of the many unfortunate souls wandering my Hellscape instead.
[tab ] To sweeten the deal, and to keep things fair, the three people with the least amount of points at the end of the game will get whatever wish they desire granted. The cellphones will give you information and clues. As of now, Purgatory's Game has officially begun!”
The red light turns off, and the sound of the record once again fills your ears. The door to the room opens, and you're allowed to leave. A ping on your cellphone catches your attention. Do you dare join the games?
[center [size50 [Mrs+Saint+Delafield There is Heaven; let's keep it a secret]]]
[center [pic https://i.imgur.com/Eusw42j.png]]
[center [pic https://i.imgur.com/munRqPS.png]]
Some people say that dying is just like falling asleep- that you never feel what happens to you. What people never say is that if you’re murdered- if you don’t expect it- dying hurts like hell. When Dahlia woke, his eyes opened slowly, and he took in the ominous red glow on the ceiling. He wondered if everything was a dream, but the pain radiating from his chest that burned like white-hot embers told him that it wasn’t, and that he was awake. A hand moved to rest against the left side of his chest and there was nothing there but a hole in his shirt that was stained with some viscous mess. Groaning, the onyx-haired boy sat up and noted the commotion around him. He was uncertain about what was going on, and only caught the end of the rather ominous speech about them being dead. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if it were a joke, but he believed it was a possibility that he could be dead.
He realized quickly that he knew none of these people around him, and they certainly didn’t seem familiar. Some of them were panicking, and he felt for them, but before he could do anything, he wanted to get his bearings. Dahlia reached into the pocket of his pants only to find them empty. The device that he was looking for had fallen out likely as he’d slept onto the floor beside the dirty mattress he laid on. It was a rather curious device as it looked just like his phone- except this one only had one app. “Mastermind,” He whispered to himself- tapping at it with his thumb. Portraits of those around him as well as his own with names he didn’t recognize. “Dahlia,” It was a bit feminine, but he shrugged it off.
Drawing himself to his feet, he slid the phone into the pocket of his jeans and rubbed once again at the hole in his shirt before making his way over to where the others were crowded around what seemed like a pale haired girl that seemed very close to hysterics. “I’m not sure any of us know the answer to that,” he answered both the blonde haired girl and the green haired boy as they both asked similar questions. “I think all we know are the names on the app,” Even though he knew next to nothing about the intricacies of psychology, he knew that whoever was in control wanted them all to feel helpless. To him, it was a game. But to them, they were playing for their lives and sanity it seemed. “My name is Dahlia,” The boy added- knowing the next question they asked would likely be his own name. There was an odd group of people here it seemed as they all looked to come from different backgrounds, but understood one another perfectly.
It was then that his phone dinged loudly in his pocket- followed immediately by the rest of the devices held by the others. He opened the mocking message. “After waking up, your brains may feel like mush. So I’ve decided to give you need a bit of a push. Surely this won’t be too much of a chore, just open up the door. You have two minutes to complete, but be wary of the monsters you will meet,” Dahlia read the message aloud, and as he did so, the lock on the door clicked open. They could finally leave this small enclosed space which felt like a blessing as he was somewhat anxious about small spaces filled with many people. “We should do it,” He decided- knowing there was a time limit, and this was probably their first task in this demented game. Thankfully, the King didn't make their task an impossible one- at least yet anyway.]]
It was a familiar feeling, this pounding in his head, the aching in his limbs, the cloudy feeling in his brain. He rubbed his face, scrubbing the bits out of his eyes. In the background, a voice was droning away. Something insane about games and being dead. He didn't know. It was way too early to process shit like that. Slowly, he yawned and stretched, then paused and looked down. What the hell was he wearing? Was that... a hospital gown? Why the fuck was he wearing a hospital gown? Shit, wait--was his ass hanging out? He reached back, only to slowly grimace as he confirmed it--yep, ass hanging out one-hundred-percent. Not much he could do about that.
No, no, wait, that wasn't the point. [i Why] was he in a hospital gown? Had he hit his head so badly he'd forgotten, and that was why he was in a hospital? But no, this definitely wasn't a hospital. Unless it was a really terrible hospital in some kind of third-world country, but even then, no one else was in hospital gowns.
The voice's comments slowly came back to the top of his mind, the shit about games and Hell-with-a-capital-H and purgatory and death and whatever else. He didn't know if he believed in hell, but damn, they'd sure been captured by some kind of sicko, whether it was the Devil himself or a garden-variety psychopath. Point was, they had to get out of here.
A few of the other oddly-dressed characters in the room were checking their phones, so he looked at his. A quick glimpse of green hair in the phone's blank screen made him grin to himself; hell yeah, he was cute. His earlobes looked gross, though, all saggy where gauges had once been but were no longer. He frowned and touched them, feeling the hole. What'd happened to that? Where'd his gauges gone? He'd look cute as hell with them in.
Dammit, he was getting distracted again. He shook his head and pulled open the app. Linden? Oooh, or Lime Blossom. Lime, now that was a cool-ass name. Matched his hair color, too.
"So we're stuck in this room?" he summarized, when one of the men announced that the door probably wouldn't open until the mysterious voice willed it. The one who'd spoken--Acon, was it?--also had sweet hair, though his was blue.
"Hi, Hydrangea. Yeah, I've got a bright idea, why don't we get to know each other?" he offered with a grin. All kinds of lovely men and women in this room, and he'd love to get to know any and/or all of them. "No point screaming at the psychopath in the ceiling, I'm sure he'll just enjoy it, the creep. I'm Lime, by the way, nice to meet you!"
It wasn't that he wasn't worried. He was. Terrified. But there wasn't any point to being scared, and more to the point, he didn't want to give their mysterious watcher the satisfaction. Besides, being scared wasn't particularly productive. If they wanted to get out of here and back to--the hospital, he supposed, glancing down at himself--then they needed to figure out where they were and what was going on, and neither of those things were going to happen if they kept on panicking and screaming at the ceiling. Though honestly, if the others weren't panicking, he probably would be. He could feel it in his gut; he was only able to be strong because they were afraid.
Lime frowned to himself. Somehow... that felt familiar. But why? He paused a long moment to think it over, then shrugged to himself. Oh well, he'd figure it out. He'd probably hit his head pretty hard to land in the hospital, and then here without even waking up. It was perfectly normal to not remember shit after that kind of event.
"So, anyone remember how we got here?" he asked, glancing around the room. Seemed like a good place to start, if they were going to figure out how to escape from here.
Everything was foggy, distant. Every thought was clouded with confusion, every noise unfamiliar. The male laid on a thin mattress, springs digging into his side, causing discomfort. He felt a strong tug on his arm, then a push. Someone wasn't happy with the cuddle-fest the boy was so inclined to continue. He exhaled in distaste, angry about being woken up by whoever this female was beside him. He rolled over, grumbling something to the extent of, "Lock the door on the way out."
[#87CEFA [i Who is she? ]] The male questioned himself, however, something told him that the name didn't matter. She didn't matter. Just another lay, nothing else. He knew, however, that if she didn't lock the door [i someone] would be incredibly angry... But who?
Springing up from the squeaky mattress, the male started to panic. He was missing something... No, someone. Someone incredibly important. Powder-blue eyes scanned the room, taking in every inch of the area. It was rather dark, with an odd music playing from what seemed to be a record player, however, he could not see where it was coming from. People were strewn about, some awake and wondering aimlessly, others still laying in their beds. [#87CEFA "The fuck?"] The accent that spilled out of his mouth was Finnish, he knew this. At least his name was familiar.
A distorted voice came crashing through the room, cutting off any thoughts about who the male was, and where he sat. The male listened intently, taking in every word as if it was law. So, he was dead. That made sense to the male, given the creepiness factor. The blue-haired male went searching into the pockets of his jeans, grabbing the familiar device he knew to be his cell phone.[#87CEFA [i Why can I remember what this is, but not my own name? This is one fucked up game. ] ]
The male searched through various different names on the app, clicking on them and looking around the room for their matching faces. Finally, he came to a picture and name that seemed a tiny bit familiar. A blue-haired male with matching eyes stared at him, a small smirk spread on their face. He knew this was him. The name 'Aconitum' was above this picture, and the boy grimaced. [#87CEFA [i Sounds weird. ] ]
Acon waltzed to the middle of the room, interested in the commotion that was going on. He shoved his phone back into his pocket, then patted his body down to see if he had anything else on him. As his hands moved away from his body he then realized that they were now covered in blood. The boy looked down at his clothes, cocking his eyebrow as he stared at the blood-stained clothes he wore. [#87CEFA [i Again. Weird. ] ]
A black-haired female, the one that was called Protea on his phone, started asking questions. One of which was the names of the people around him. Acon cracked his knuckles before saying his name out loudly. [#87CEFA "I guess my name is Aconitum. Call me Acon,"] he rolled his eyes, hating the way it sounds. [#87CEFA "And I don't think the door opening is really up to us. Whoever the 'King' is will probably open it when they deem it necessary."] Acon knew that whoever was behind this wanted to watch them stew. Sick fuck.
There was unsettling, raspy music playing just at the edge of her consciousness. A sudden, sharp crash emerged from the depths of her mind, and she gasped and shot up into a sitting position. The rugged mattress below her creaked from the sudden motion. She looked around frantically to find the cause of what woke her up, but only found a dull grey room and a record player in the corner. There were others waking up as well, some already gathering in a group by the door.
She continued searching around the room. There was a girl to the right of her that looked frighteningly familiar, but she couldn't remember who the girl was. In fact, she couldn't even remember who she was.
A sudden vibration from underneath her caused her to jump. She retrieved the phone that she had been sitting on and entered the password without thinking twice about it. It was odd that she knew it when she wasn't even certain that this was her phone. She searched through the phone and found only a single app. Just as she was about to open the app, a deep, distorted voice began spewing nonsense. Hell? Volunteered? Dead? What kind of childish game was this?
Her phone buzzed once more, but she just threw it down on the bed. She climbed to her feet, trying not to get a head-rush in the process. Her head felt like it was going to explode, and she was ready to actually kill someone to get some answers. She looked down at the bracelet on her wrist, pulling and tugging at every inch of it to get it off; no luck.
It was then that she noticed what she was wearing. She had on a simple, oversized t-shirt and ripped jeans. She had no shoes on, only socks. She noticed the pale blonde hair that fell in front of her eye. Oh great, she was a blonde!
She stormed over to the group by the door. She briefly glanced at everyone awake. A brunette with a dead stare in her eyes, a blonde male with unusually feminine features, and two dark-haired, tattooed girls. She spent extra care in looking over the one wearing no pants.
“[#c1ac10 Who the fuck are you people and what the hell is going on?]” she demanded. Not waiting for an answer, she pushed past them and aggressively tried opening the door. When that didn't work, she started pounding and kicking at the door. She noticed movement just outside the door. It looked like a person wearing a mask.
“[#c1ac10 Hey, open the door, you sick bastard!]” she yelled at the figure outside, and it finally looked in her direction. “[#c1ac10 Yeah, you! You the hell do you think you are!]”
[left [pic http://i65.tinypic.com/ms2cuo.jpg]][center [font "Sacramento" [i 'I feel my temperature rising, help me, I'm flaming. I must be a hundred and nine. Burning, burning, burning and nothing can cool me. I just might turn to smoke.']
That song was playing again.
A record? It sounded scratchy enough.
She opened her eyes; the ceiling was dark grey. There were people around her - the record had stopped. A voice was playing through it, not singing, but speaking. Speaking of a game and punishments and [b death]. The voice told her that she had volunteered to do this, that she was dead, and in Hell, or Purgatory at least. This couldn't be happening. This was all a joke, or a nightmare or something. She sat up and put her hand on her forehead to steady the swirling room. When she pulled her hand away, it was sticky and dark red. Blood. What the hell was going on? Why was there blood on her forehead? Oh, God, she thought she might swoon.
People were moving all around her, with all manner of indecency and otherwise improper means of dress. One of the ladies was even only wearing a t-shirt and underwear! The audacity of it all, plus the tattoos adorning her almost naked body and the shards of metal stuck in her nose and lip only added to her lightheadedness. This was all a mistake. Why was she here with these people? She looked down, terrified of what she might see but was greatly relieved to find an oddly unfamiliar yet familiar dress reaching down to half past her knee, verging on low shin and ankle territory. She stood and smoothed her dress, the movement causing a cellular phone to fall from its perch on the bed onto the floor. She picked it up, confused, but slid her fingers over the unlocked screen all the same. The phone fully unlocked, miraculously, and revealed a singular application available. She opened it and began clicking at random, discovering the names? aliases? of the other people present in the room. She eventually came across the almost naked girl she spotted before and discovered that she went by Hydrangea. She spat. Such a beautiful flower should not be attributed to such a girl.
With a huff, she continued scrolling through until she reached a profile with a picture of a dark haired girl with bright blue eyes who resembled the face she had seen in the dark screen of the phone when she picked it up. The name attributed to it was Magnolia. It certainly sounded like a beautiful flower to her, so she was satisfied with it, though not with the overall situation. The overload of information had sent Magnolia into a bit of a daze, and so she made her way over to the door, where another dark haired girl was standing, her hand hovering above the knob.
"[+cornflowerblue Are you going to open the door, dear, or shall I?]" Magnolia said gently so as to not startle the girl. To emphasize her point, she placed her hand on top of the other girl's, putting a slight, reassuring pressure on it.
[center The springy mattress gave out a screech as the olive-skinned female turned. Her long, black hair draped over her face, hiding her eyes as they flickered open. Confusion cluttered the girl's mind as she tried to move, however, someone's arm was wrapped around her waist. This felt wrong and unfamiliar and the girl shuddered, pulling the arm away from her. Her hair fell away from her face, revealing the face of the man who laid beside her. He had light blue hair, pale skin and was rather attractive. He was unfamiliar in every sense of the word.
[#00008B "What is going on?"] She mumbled half-heartedly to herself, pushing herself up into a sitting position. At this moment she noticed her bare legs and quickly moved to cover herself with her arms. [#00008B "Where the hell are my pants?"] She gasped, seeing that she was only wearing a slightly damp t-shirt and underwear. She looked at the man beside her yet again. Her eyes widened as she took in his clothing. [#00008B "Oh my god,"] she scrambled backward and off the mattress, away from the male. She had thought that being in a wet t-shirt was odd, but the boy's clothing was completely covered in blood.
Instinct kicked in and the girl's hands searched for her phone to call 9-1-1. After a few seconds of searching blindly, she found it hidden under her pillow. She typed in the password but was greeted with just one, single app. Her eyes left the phone in a panic and looked around the room yet again, but this time taking in her surroundings. The room was very dark and random mattresses were strung about it. Some people were laying while others stood, all looking as confused as she did. None of these people were familiar either. Then it hit the girl. She wasn't even familiar with herself.
Suddenly a distorted voice bounced around the room, causing the hair on the girl's body to stand. She listened with intent, confusion cluttering her head. [#00008B "I'm dead?"] Something about this seemed right to the girl. It was as if she knew that this was supposed to happen, even though she had no clue what was going on. The girl went back to the phone and a little good luck message taunted her. She closed it away quickly and opened the app that she avoided before. A list of what she knew for certain were names of flowers. Something about this made her stomach turn. Did she not like flowers? Odd. The girl clicked on random profiles and was greeted with various different faces, one of which was of the male beside her. Aconitum was what he was named. A rush went through the female's body. She could find out who she was, or well, what she was called in this sick game that was going on. She flicked through a few more profiles until she finally flipped to one that was familiar. [#00008B "Hydrangea? Really?"] She let out a sigh and looked at the picture that was of herself. Something about it made her stomach feel off and she quickly closed the app and put the phone in her bra.
Hydra's blue eyes quickly moved to the commotion that was going on. She hadn't heard a thing they were saying, too much in her own head. She pushed herself up and away from the blue-haired male that was now awake and joined the others that were speaking. [#00008B "H-hi, I'm called Hydrangea."] She said to the three females and male, some of which were also covered in blood. [#00008B "Is everyone okay?"] She asked politely before averting her eyes to the floor. Anxiety was rippling through her but she still stood strong. Well, as strong as one can look in their underwear.
[b *note: everyone wakes up in the clothes that they died in.*]
What woke her was a combination of both the light chatter in the room and the cold sweat that cooled to an uncomfortable temperature on her skin. She opened her eyes and blinked away the blur clouding her vision, but didn’t move for a moment, listening to the cruel, joyful voice that echoed in the chamber and in her ears, listening to the mutterings of others. She wasn’t particularly comfortable lying on her left side, her arm crushed under her ribcage at an angle that had put it to sleep. She glanced down without moving her head at the bracelet around her wrist as she listened to the disembodied voice--belonging to a King of some sort--rattle on. She shivered, but knew the icy feeling running down her back wasn’t only due to the chill air in the room.
She was dead...? Impossible.
When the voice was done, she finally pushed herself into a sitting position to get a better look at her surroundings. People lay in cots much like her’s, except for three individuals who appeared to be trying to comfort each other if their words were any indication. She felt like she knew these people but their names disappeared into the ether of her mind...including her own. A terribly tuned record player drew distorted melodies around the dimly lit room, and she spotted the record player where she suspected that the jester-esque voice had emerged from. Looking down, what she could see of herself were muscled, tattooed arms that looked pale and long legs which she pulled under her thighs to sit more comfortably. The strands of hair that dangled onto her face looked black and thin, and when she pushed them behind her ear, she felt the side of a long nose and rough, dry skin.
An ache hummed against her hip and when she reached down, she realized it was due to the fact that she’d been leaning against something hard and square in her pocket. When she pulled it out, she found a lit cell phone perched on her fingers. She opened it with a password she couldn’t remember ever installing and stared at the one app that hovered on her homescreen. She tapped it, and then at the only word listed--Protea. The face that stared back at her was stern and as sharp as the lines of her tattoo that stretched across her neck, the mouth thin and pulled into a line, inky hair pulled back into a ponytail that barely kept the wavy texture at bay.
Was that her?
Yes. She knew the answer immediately, before she clicked the app closed and received confirmation from her reflection on the screen.
So her name was Protea. Charming.
She hoisted herself up, brushing imaginary dust of her dark clothing, and watched one of the ones awake--a young man--pull a young girl gently towards a bed.
“Anyone else got a name here?” she said loudly, surprised at how sharp her voice was as it cracked against the walls of the room. All around her, people stirred, and she hadn’t realized that she’d suspected they were maybe all dead until that moment, feeling the tenseness in her shoulders relax.
Curiosity tugged her towards one of the windows littering the walls and when she pushed open the curtains to look outside, she didn’t see anything. Annoyance built up in her chest, urged on by her barefooted state, and she pushed the curtains back into place with an audible huff.
“Well, we can’t stay here,” she spoke out to the room, and made her way to the door. It resisted her pull, and she huffed aloud again. Figures.
She changed tactics and began to quicken the waking of others. “So, anyone got any bright ideas?”
Hell? Purgatory? Whatever this place was, she wasn’t planning on sticking around long enough to care. She was getting out of here and her best bet was to gather a group of sturdy-willed folks who felt the same way.
[left [pic http://i64.tinypic.com/i50ubr.jpg]][center [font "Sacramento" He heard a voice, vague and chattering in the distance. As he felt himself rise back into consciousness, the voice got louder. It was a deep voice, powerful and with a joking lilt to it. The voice clarified as he found himself fully conscious again, eyes still closed. However, one sentence in particular irritated him. '[i You've volunteered to play my game whether you want to or not... What the hell does this asshole think volunteer means?]' he thought, slightly irritated.
His eyes opened and a dimly lit room faded into view. A pale wrist rose to his gaze when the voice mentioned bracelets. He was so busy studying the bracelet that he almost didn't hear what the voice said next. He felt the color drain from his face upon realizing the knowledge that had just been imparted. He was dead. But he didn't feel dead. This couldn't be real; he must just be in a coma or dream or something. Its all his imagination. He tried to remember something, anything from before. Nothing happened; his memories were gone. All the presumably good times he had with his family, perhaps a spouse, were all gone. Perhaps the cellphone he felt underneath his pillow would provide some answers.
He pulled it out of his pocket and let his fingers glide over the keys. He didn't know how, but the passcode he had input was the correct one. The phone unlocked, revealing a black home screen with only one app visible. The text underneath it read MASTERMIND, and left him with more questions than answers as he opened it. He vaguely noticed two women who were also awake, one on the ground and one reaching for the handle of the door. Drawing his attention back to the cellphone in his hands, he saw a list.
He tapped on the third name at random, and the screen showed some type of profile page. At the very top was ANEMONE, and just underneath it was a picture. It depicted a man with short blonde hair and blue eyes, wearing a white and blue hospital gown. The same type that he was wearing. Driven by curiosity, he locked the phone for a moment to see his reflection. It seemed to match the photo, which only added to his confusion. Anemone. It sounded familiar, a flower perhaps, or at least a plant? He shrugged and sat up, placing the phone on the bed beside him before moving over slowly to where the girl knelt on the ground.
"[+forestgreen Hey, you okay?]" Anemone asked gently, placing a hand on her back. His voice didn't sound right, it was higher than one would expect from a man, reminiscent of a high tenor or possibly even alto. He remembered the girl he had seen reaching towards the door knob and stood suddenly, turning to her. "[+forestgreen Are you crazy? We don't know what's out there. You need to be more careful. C'mere,]" He beckoned, kneeling back down next to the girl on the floor, his hand finding her back again and rubbing in what he hoped was a reassuring matter. All around him, people on beds were beginning to wake up. They would want somewhere to walk. Anemone gently lifted the slight girl in front of him back to her feet and ushered her back to his bed to sit.
She blinked and sat up, disturbed by the sound of a male voice. Twilight darkness dimmed a small room, human shapes laying low on small, individual mattresses. Sleepy eyes regarded the room, taking everything in. Who were these people? She recognized none of them. Just shapes. Bodies in the darkness.
One girl was standing up. She looked nervous, afraid. Ah, she wanted to comfort her. Everything would be okay. It always was.
The recording continued. She listened, half-curious. A game? Already dead? What was this? A dream?
As soon as the thought occurred to her, she felt a wave of certainty run through her, a wave of relaxation. Of course. Of course it was a dream. What else could it be? This wouldn't happen in reality. Of that, she was certain.
Something vibrated in her pocket as the recording cut off, replaced by an atrociously distorted record that sounded like it'd been half melted, then scratched with a key, and she looked at it. A message? From... she squinted. King of Purgatory? Who was that? [i Good luck,] it read. She frowned, then nodded. It was a fitting name for a character in a dream. They rarely had proper names, just titles. Roles.
A different app caught her attention, and she opened it. A picture of a pale, dark-haired girl greeted her, the name "Poppy" at the bottom. She frowned, confused, then turned the phone off and looked at her reflection in the blank black screen. A pale, almost malnourished woman with dark hair looked back at her, a worse angle of the woman in the picture. Oh. So that was her.
The other girl looked distraught. Poppy--for that must be her name, in this dream--rose and walked over to her, putting a motherly arm around her shoulders. "It's okay," she said calmly. There was no need to panic. "It's just a dream. Everything will be okay."
If it was a dream, then there would be an objective. There were always objectives in dreams. Surely the whole thing wouldn't be contained in this tiny, featureless room, right? She looked at the door. What was outside? Everything was so normal in the room. Almost as though drawn to it, she drifted to her feet, leaving the girl behind as she stepped closer, and reached for the doorknob.
[center [pic https://i.imgur.com/ATehegb.png]]
[center [pic https://i.imgur.com/zKQutPg.png]]
Everything was foggy and distorted somehow. The girl opened her eyes to the dimness of the dark room she found herself in. There was a record player in the corner nearest to her playing a scratched record. Each time the distorted song echoed off the corners of the perfectly square room. She sat up slowly- not knowing where she was. She didn't even know if she knew [i who] she was at this point. There were others around her that were still sleeping. These people felt familiar, but she couldn't put names to faces. There was a good chance that one of them knew where this was or who she was.
She walked- barefoot- the the window of the room and brushed aside the curtain. There was a person there- or what she assumed to be a person. Hanh tapped on the window lightly with her knuckles to catch their attention, and when they turned around, she let out a soft shriek. Rather than two eyes, they had four and a small pair of horns growing out of the top of their skull. The blonde covered her mouth quickly and closed the curtain once more- moving back from the window. Oh god. Where was she? Was that person in a costume or was this real? She felt her heart-rate rise rapidly at the thought of being trapped in this room or in some sicko's twisted idea of a prank.
In her hasty movement, a cellphone slid out of the pocket of her jacket and clattered onto the floor. Bending down, she picked it up and unlocked the phone with the correct passcode. Was this hers? It felt familiar to her. The homescreen was blank, and there was only one app on the whole device called Mastermind. There was no text app or internet. And there was certainly no service on this device.
“[#c9a0dc This is... a joke, right?]” She laughed nervously to herself, and returned to the small mattress that she'd been asleep on before she woke up and opened the app hesitantly. All of this was incredibly elaborate for a joke that someone had cooked up. Her thumb hit the first name on the list, and the only thing that came up was a photo of herself. This was her face. With the title of Wisteria at the top. What the hell did that mean? All she knew about it was that it was some sort of flower.
With a huffed sigh, she tossed the device to the edge of the mattress and stood up once again- making her way toward the door. She jiggled the doorknob and attempted to pull the door open. “[#c9a0dc Are you fucking kidding,]” She groaned- using the flat of her palm to bang loudly on the door.
Before she could open her mouth, the record stopped playing that annoying tune that she'd already decided that she hated. A red light above the door came on, and a voice that she didn't recognize filled her ears. It caused her body to chill, and her arms prickle with goosebumps just from his introduction. His voice was deep and distorted- just like everything else in this place. It was also oddly soothing to know that there was indeed someone to blame for her memory loss.
“[+maroon Hello, and welcome to my domain. You can call this Hell or Purgatory. Many before you have called it as such. You have questions, so I won't waste your time. I am the King of this place, and you've volunteered to play my game whether you want to or not. ust to make sure you're being a good sport, the bracelet around your wrist should keep you in line. Each time you fail a task or act up, the bracelet will gain a glowing blue bar. Avoid getting nine of those bars or you lose the game.
You're all already dead, so you can't die here, and trust me, there's no point in trying to kill yourselves. I can and will still inflict harm onto you or your competitors as I see fit should you break the rules. Or maybe I'll decide to turn you into one of the many unfortunate souls wandering my Hellscape instead. I'm sure you've seen those poor lost souls out there by now.
To sweeten the deal, and to keep things fair, the three people with the least amount of points at the end of the game will get whatever wish they desire granted and the second chance at the perfect life. The cellphones will give you information and clues. It's all you need. As of now, Purgatory's Game has officially begun!]”
The red light blinked off and on before turning back off for good. Once again the record played in the corner and a ding on the device caught her attention. A good luck message was sent likely in jest from the so called King of Purgatory. “[#c9a0dc Oh god. What have we gotten ourselves into?]” She whispered- feeling her knees buckle under her as she lowered herself to the ground.
All posts are either in parody or to be taken as literature. This is a roleplay site. Sexual content is forbidden.