Alex, Alison, Ben, Sam, Sarah
You wake up on the floor with a pounding headache and the sensation of knowing time has passed, like having slept through a long car or plane ride. For some of the population of the school this may be what normally happens on a Saturday evening, but there are several factors to consider here.
1. This is definitely not the Pavilion.
2. Getting up ( Read more... )
Allison tangles her fingers up with Ben's so they can again be running and definitely not finding out what the hell else those little monsters will do to each other or being eaten by the woods or the angry wolf lurking so near. She actually takes a turn at being useful for once and points ahead of them where light is shining. "Up there!" An end to the forest, thank god, and the next obstacle. The lights are bright, almost welcoming, but the welcome's clearly to be taken with a grain of salt, considering events thus far.
The flashing lights make her squint a little after the darkness of the forest but it's much better than being horribly maimed. She even recognizes the ride, a vague comfort. Really, how can the park make this one terrible and death filled? ...Don't ask that, Allison. "Do we...go in?" Huff huff, pant pant. And that'd be the wolf howling, making her wince.
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Aaand in he goes, though only just inside the door; he doesn't like how dark it is in here in contrast to the bright lights outside, but at least it's still and calm (for the moment). Nothing flashing, nothing howling, nothing trying to grab them. Not that this will last long, probably, but for now Ben appreciates it.
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Will that time ever come?
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These things always smell so dusty, but now she thinks it's tinged with something coppery. Blood. Which is just fantastic, really. Fantastic is also a good word for when they're all inside the Gravitron and the door neatly slams shut behind them, with a cheery little whirr of machinery going. Sarah turns around, swiftly, squinting in the strange, unpleasant darkness.
"Well, shit," she says, and then the centrifuge begins to spin.
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"Has anyone else been on this?" Because it spins pretty damn fast. It's about then Allison sees the spikes, glinting in the speckled light streaming in from the outside during a revolution of the ride. She's thankful no one can see her go a little paler. She does not say 'so that's how they deathified this ride' but it's pretty much what she's thinking. Instead everyone is treated to "Jesus fuck, get to the fucking walls, there's fucking spikes!" Would you like to say fuck again, Allison? "Fuck!" Apparently.
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"I didn't go on it before." He laughs, nervously and totally humorlessly, and squints at the center of the room-- is there something glinting in midair, somehow? "But I don't think staying by the walls is gonna be a problem."
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Maybe. Maybe!
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"...shit. I think that's it. That might be the key, and--" It's currently being crowded, as the spikes come back down, by stabby implements of death, so Sarah leans back against the mat hastily. All right. Thank you very much, park, this is great. "Okay, who here is best at keeping track of time? Mentally?"
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"Like a timer?" Because Allison can do that. She looks at the spikes and the key in the middle, chewing her lip, thinking she's maybe following Sarah on this one. "Lemme--We should go two revolutions just to make sure there's not a difference," she says, mostly not wanting to be the reason anyone dies horribly.
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He hates being a downer, and he sincerely hopes that Sam or Sarah will be strong enough to manage it where he can't and Allison probably can't. But this does need pointing out.
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She's not sure she can do this, for a second, and then a surge of--to be honest--anger makes her decide fuck that, she's doing this just because it made her question her own abilities. (It would be better if it were, like...for someone else's welfare, but for this instant that's at the back of her mind.) Sarah operates under the assumption there is literally nothing she cannot do if she sets her mind to it; sometimes this is good, sometimes bad. Mostly it's sort of weird!
"Okay." Deep, semi-hurty breath; the increase of gravity makes her chest ache a little.
"When Allison says go, I'll head toward the center--crawling, to give us more time. Sam, you're stronger than I am," and she's matter-of-fact about this; it's just true, in all likelihood, "So if it's okay I'm gonna ask you to pull me back, because if this gets to be a crisis we need someone we can rely on. Ben, will you keep an eye on the spikes and let us know if anything fucked up happens? --more fucked up than it already is."
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"I'd suggest hurrying, it's dropping seconds each time," she offers tersely, trying to both speak and count.
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It's something to do, at least; he's been trying not to think too hard about just what-- just who-- is at stake here, and so far there's been too much chaos and running around for that to be a problem. Right now, though, he's all but immobilized with little to do but stare at those spikes and think about it-- and pray under his breath, though with the dark and the noise of the machinery it's doubtful anyone else will notice his lips moving.
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He's really hoping this thing plans to stop sooner or later, but...who knows what will make it stop. "Ready?"
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All right, fine. She can get dirtier. She's already covered in dead body bits. No matter what obstacle, she just needs to keep going. No choice, no options; if she doesn't give herself a way out, she knows she won't back down.
"Ready."
The second the spikes start to lift again, she starts easing forward, close to the ground as can be, and as quick as she can go while struggling against the increasingly difficult tide of gravity.
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