[Holo] Round Two: Demonic Boogaloo
“I don’t know what to do.“ Ava stands in the middle of the empty street, up to her ankles in mud, staring at the
">windmill; at the board where Malcolm had hung. It’s cold and her light velvet jacket and jeans do little to keep out the chill, but she’s not concerned with that now. Her tears have dried up. In fact, since she took no food or drink, all of her is threatening to dry up. She tries to believe she didn’t care.
“I won’t do it.” She won’t. When round two starts, what ever that is, when more special children show up, she’ll let them kill her. She says it and tries so hard to believe it. But, deep down, she doesn’t. She knows she’s not fatalist like that, no matter how bad she wishes she were. In the back of her mind, she’s already trying to work out what she could say to the next group to convince them not to play by Yellow Eyes’s rules. To get out of this nightmare place. So far, she’s come up empty. She sniffles and reaches up to wipe away nonexistent tears, more from habit now than actual need. “I don’t know what to do.”
Ava blinks and the world tilts. Or, more precisely the world does not tilt, but she does; leaning back in reflexive surprise when the town she never knew was called Cold Oak is gone, replaced by a small, recognizably metallic room. “What the hell?” She spins in place, nonplussed by the sudden juxtaposition of the wide open, dilapidated town to this tiny, modern cell. Not realizing she was up off the floor proper, Ava’s heel goes over the edge of the platform and slips. She lets out an undignified yelp, warms flying out to her sides and wind milling wildly as she tries to regain her footing. It’s useless and she topples backwards, landing hard on her ass.
Looking up at where she had been standing, she now sees the very futuristic panel that hung above her head. Very outer space retro. “First demons, now aliens,” she says absently, getting back to her feet and rubbing her bruised behind. The only other thing in the room, she sees, is a pedestal on which rests some kind of Blackberry. She ignores this for now, instead focusing her attention on what appears to be a door. Running her hands over the cool, smooth metal surface, she finds no handle or latch. No way she can see to open it.
“So how the heck do I get out?” she asks the empty room in a decidedly disgruntled tone. “Is this round two? Some kind of stupid problem solving challenge?” A bit anticlimactic after what she’d been through, yeah? She turns back to the room, eyes falling on the PDA again. It was the only thing in an otherwise bare room, so it must be important for something. She picks it up and looks it over. “If you think I’m beaming myself out of here, you’re freaking nuts.” She turns the device this way and that. “Phone home.”