001 [journal]

[notquitedeadcsi]

Okay, this is definitely NOT Heaven; there'd be a whole less people and more Victoria's Secret angels running about.  What? A man can dream. And I'm not in hell; I'm not frying. I don't get the tape thing but to each their own. And honestly, I'd rather not die again; getting shot in the heart is painful and is not something I'd enjoy

Comments

[goldn_boy]

Oh, is that who that is? I haven't seen him all day--the masked man, I mean. I was wondering where he went.

You're not in heaven, or hell. I don't think. I'm Jim Kirk, and we've been trapped her by a cowardly voyeur.

[notquitedeadcsi]

I just saw them one after the other. The masked guy just went to the movie theater and I haven't seen him since.

Kirk, name's Speedle and at the risk of sounding insane, why?

[goldn_boy]

Hi, Speedle.

Why? If I could answer that, maybe I'd be closer to getting us out of here. I don't know why, other than he's got a sadistic and somewhat boring sense of fun. We're drawn from all different places and times--some people seem to think some of us are fictional--and everyone lives in a boarding house. At least meals are provided.

If you get an uncontrollable urge to go to the town square, it means you're getting hitched to someone. As in, invisible tether, about twenty feet long, and you can't go anywhere without them unless you're in the house.

Yeah. I know. It does sound crazy.

[notquitedeadcsi]

That's a lot of rules for Purgatory.

[twilightzonemod]

[Have some random scratching in your journal.]

[notquitedeadcsi]

[Speed's going to look at that and tear out the scratched pages in mild annoyance.]

[twilightzonemod]

[Your journal does not like to be torn at, and the pages quickly respawn in the journal again, and the cover slaps you.]