Survival Of The Fittest

((Colm Forsyth continued from Feel Good Inc ))

Colm rolled over in his bed, sound asleep.

Next to him, was a second bed, also containing a sleeping body. They had found their way to the sleeping quarters and after making sure to change Betty's bandages and making some minor alterations (alright, mostly Colm doing it) by moving two beds into one room, they were quickly asleep.

No camping today. Colm didn't have to construct a shelter and a fire. Finally, they had beds and blankets and they were inside. They fell asleep quickly, and they slept the sleep of the dead. Colm remembered looking at the girl across from him and wondering how he had ended up as her stalwart companion. He reached out to hold her sleeping hand for just a moment before sleep took hold of him as well, and the picture faded to black.

Morning came, but the arctic light that shined through their window was dim and not enough to rouse either from slumber.

Then the announcement started. Colm stirred just a little, figuring it would be best if at least one of them heard and remembered the news of the day. He rubbed his eyes.

"Colm Forsyth pushed a wardrobe down a set of stairs and onto Angelo Lee's head."

Colm frowned. Looked around the room. Frowned harder.

"Quinn," he whispered urgently.

"Did I just hear what the fuck I think I heard?" he said, panic creeping in.

"Did he -- Did I -- Is it true --" he said, pushing his hand over his face, sitting bolt up right in his bed.

Open the door. Nope. Nothing here.

Walk over, check another one. Nope. Nothing here.

(Perante Losoa continued from Bravery)

After the announcement, Perante spent the next couple of minutes pretending to be doing something substantial. He needed to move around too. As obviously amazing the basement was, he felt that staying there was just a one-way ticket to getting lit up or... Something. Just staying in one area never felt like a good idea, he didn't need to overcomplicate this.

Slowly open the door. Nope. Same as usual.

Next room, check another one. This one had—oh my god, close that, close that. He didn’t need to see that. Who was walking around missing a finger?

The question of what he was even doing came up in his mind. He didn’t need to be looking through here. Maybe he thought he’d find something useful. Maybe he hoped to see another student here. Or it could be the opposite, and he was hoping that no one was near him. Maybe there’d be God himself behind one of these rooms, who knows? Perante didn’t bother to answer it himself. Someone else could play English teacher and do that job for him.

Breathe, quietly open the door. Nothing new here. Move on to the next.

(Breaking posting order to exit thread)

Next door, there was—fuck, he knew these two, what the absolute fresh hell were these two doing here?! Any semblance of stealth he tried to uphold was gone as the surprise made him jump back slightly.

Two killers, that's what was inside. Horrible luck that he just happened to walk into a room where—well luck wasn't exactly right. He did kind of ask for it by entering every single room.

"Sorry! Sorry, wrong room." He tried to say it in a casual way, but the speed in which the words came out betrayed that intent.

That sounded stupid.

That scared him a lot more than he liked to admit.

(Perante Losoa continued at Futility)

Colm lifted his face out of his hands when he heard the door open. From reflex, he reached for the axe.

The guy panicked at seeing them. He was trying to keep his cool, but he was obviously freaking out.

"W-wait -- !" he called out, but the guy had already booked it.

Colm got up from the bed and paced about three steps worth of floor, back and forth, for a minute.

"This --" he sputtered, at a loss for words.

He stopped and considered punching the wall. But at the last moment, all he could do is tap his fist against the wall.

"This isn't fair," he said quietly. Colm put his hand to his forehead and let out a harsh sigh.

"I just need to -- I need some air I think."

((Colm Forsyth continued in Reefer Madness))