farewell happy fields
Characters: Dexter Morgan
Rating: To be determined
Time Period: Modern
Location: The castle
Relative Date: During the earthquake
Status: Open to all
Dexter searched the cabin. Some of the rooms were occupied, others were not. The castle was definitely lived in, but so far he hadn't run into anyone. Well, anyone except David Cameron. Not much was making sense, but one thing was very clear: This wasn't the 2011 International Forensics Convention at all. It never was. I was tricked into coming here. But why and by whom? Do they know? Do they know my dark secret?
This was an important question, one Dexter intended to answer before ever trying to go home. A noise at the far end of the hall. Dexter stopped. It sounded like nails against the hardwood floors? A dog? Dexter strained his eyes to see in the darken corridor. "Who's there?" he called out.
No reply.
He moved forward. He wasn't scared. Not even of the dark. I am the monster at the end of the hallway. He called out again, a warning to it and then it came. Dexter eyed it, suspicious. It was a dog. A big black dog. It approached him with head hung. Dogs didn't like Dexter and this one was doing its best to look nonthreatening as possible. Appease the predator. It looked up at him through one droopy ear. But just for a second.
"What are you doing here... boy?" Is that what you said to dogs? Dexter didn't much care for them, either, but at least this one wasn't trying to bite his face off. He patted it on the head slowly, like an infant unsure of a certain texture. The dog tensed, the gesture causing the opposite effect. "Who do you belong to?" He asked and then reached down to the dog's collar. On it was a gold tag, engraved not with an owner's name, but a number: 2910.
"2910?" Dexter read aloud and then released the dog. A name? Room number? Partial phone number. The phone I got off the helicopter. It was asking for a four digit code. He dug quickly into his overnight bag and pulled the phone out, inputting the four numbers. It worked. What the fuck is going on?
The dog whimpered.
And then the ground began to sway...
Rating: To be determined
Time Period: Modern
Location: The castle
Relative Date: During the earthquake
Status: Open to all
Dexter searched the cabin. Some of the rooms were occupied, others were not. The castle was definitely lived in, but so far he hadn't run into anyone. Well, anyone except David Cameron. Not much was making sense, but one thing was very clear: This wasn't the 2011 International Forensics Convention at all. It never was. I was tricked into coming here. But why and by whom? Do they know? Do they know my dark secret?
This was an important question, one Dexter intended to answer before ever trying to go home. A noise at the far end of the hall. Dexter stopped. It sounded like nails against the hardwood floors? A dog? Dexter strained his eyes to see in the darken corridor. "Who's there?" he called out.
No reply.
He moved forward. He wasn't scared. Not even of the dark. I am the monster at the end of the hallway. He called out again, a warning to it and then it came. Dexter eyed it, suspicious. It was a dog. A big black dog. It approached him with head hung. Dogs didn't like Dexter and this one was doing its best to look nonthreatening as possible. Appease the predator. It looked up at him through one droopy ear. But just for a second.
"What are you doing here... boy?" Is that what you said to dogs? Dexter didn't much care for them, either, but at least this one wasn't trying to bite his face off. He patted it on the head slowly, like an infant unsure of a certain texture. The dog tensed, the gesture causing the opposite effect. "Who do you belong to?" He asked and then reached down to the dog's collar. On it was a gold tag, engraved not with an owner's name, but a number: 2910.
"2910?" Dexter read aloud and then released the dog. A name? Room number? Partial phone number. The phone I got off the helicopter. It was asking for a four digit code. He dug quickly into his overnight bag and pulled the phone out, inputting the four numbers. It worked. What the fuck is going on?
The dog whimpered.
And then the ground began to sway...