Somewhere... Sometime... Somehow... the Afterlife
"Mitchell!"
"Annie?"
He'd been walking up and down this hall for what felt like half a century already, and suddenly there it was: her voice, as welcome as anything he'd ever seen or heard in his life time.
"Annie!"
She was nowhere to be seen.
"Mitchell!"
A door. He opened it-- and stumbled right into a scene from his worst memories. Music playing softly in the background, wood and tent fabric, a table full of playing cards... a slumped body in the corner, and no Annie.
He picked up the pocket watch lying on the table. Still the same.
"Annie?" he called, looking back up.
"Mitchell, where are we?" The voice was there, her body... was not. "--and who's that? Is he asleep-- oh, no. He's-- dead. Definitely. Dead."
"France," Mitchell said numbly. "July 17, 1917." He cast the watch back onto the table. "That's Corporal Arthur Hanly."
"Oh." Silence. He turned around, studying the room, trying to find where her voice was even coming from.
"Annie?"
"Mitchell? How did he die?"
He ran a hand through his hair. "I poisoned him," he said. "I... didn't want him to feel any pain." He shook his head. "Look, this is a waste of time," he said. "Annie, where are you?"
"I'm right here!" she said, sounding almost annoyed. "Where are you? I can't see you!"
"Look, just--" he turned back towards the door, pulling at the knob. No give. It was locked. "--just step out into the corridor, all right?"
"I just want to get out of here, Mitchell." She sounded heartbroken.
"I know. I'll get you out here in no time at all, all right? Just... step out into the corridor."
More silence. Then: "The door, it won't open!"
Mitchell groaned. "Now that's perfect," he muttered.
"Maybe we're supposed to find something? A clue? Mitchell--"
He rubbed at his eyes. "This isn't a bloody detective, Annie."
"Just... talk to me. About the guy, or... anything. Please just keep talking." Her voice cracked, and his heart went with it. He took a deep breath and turned back around, and talked-- told her everything.
[[ NFB, NFI, OOC-okay. Taken and severely adapted from Being Human 3x01. ]]
"Annie?"
He'd been walking up and down this hall for what felt like half a century already, and suddenly there it was: her voice, as welcome as anything he'd ever seen or heard in his life time.
"Annie!"
She was nowhere to be seen.
"Mitchell!"
A door. He opened it-- and stumbled right into a scene from his worst memories. Music playing softly in the background, wood and tent fabric, a table full of playing cards... a slumped body in the corner, and no Annie.
He picked up the pocket watch lying on the table. Still the same.
"Annie?" he called, looking back up.
"Mitchell, where are we?" The voice was there, her body... was not. "--and who's that? Is he asleep-- oh, no. He's-- dead. Definitely. Dead."
"France," Mitchell said numbly. "July 17, 1917." He cast the watch back onto the table. "That's Corporal Arthur Hanly."
"Oh." Silence. He turned around, studying the room, trying to find where her voice was even coming from.
"Annie?"
"Mitchell? How did he die?"
He ran a hand through his hair. "I poisoned him," he said. "I... didn't want him to feel any pain." He shook his head. "Look, this is a waste of time," he said. "Annie, where are you?"
"I'm right here!" she said, sounding almost annoyed. "Where are you? I can't see you!"
"Look, just--" he turned back towards the door, pulling at the knob. No give. It was locked. "--just step out into the corridor, all right?"
"I just want to get out of here, Mitchell." She sounded heartbroken.
"I know. I'll get you out here in no time at all, all right? Just... step out into the corridor."
More silence. Then: "The door, it won't open!"
Mitchell groaned. "Now that's perfect," he muttered.
"Maybe we're supposed to find something? A clue? Mitchell--"
He rubbed at his eyes. "This isn't a bloody detective, Annie."
"Just... talk to me. About the guy, or... anything. Please just keep talking." Her voice cracked, and his heart went with it. He took a deep breath and turned back around, and talked-- told her everything.
[[ NFB, NFI, OOC-okay. Taken and severely adapted from Being Human 3x01. ]]