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Bellum Anon ([info]bellum_anon) wrote in [info]bellumlogs,
@ 2010-05-26 22:57:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
transformation post
Who: Open
What: Transformation ONLY
Where: Individual rooms throughout Bellum Letale
When: Sunset, Full Moon
Warnings: None
Notes: No character interaction in this log

[At moon rise, the inhabitants of Bellum found themselves in separate rooms.

If they hadn't been in them before, they were now (and the rooms were not always their own). Doors were locked, not to be opened until sunrise, and the people of the building, swiftly becoming tales, were separated from everyone around them.

Not one to let itself be caught unawares, the building made the doors impenetrable, with no space between the frame and the edges of the door, no weakness in the hinges, and no way out or in. Inside the rooms, screens sprang to life, allowing the tales one out - the boards.]

[NOTE: This log post is ONLY for transformation (not for character interaction). State your character's location in the subject line, narrative out the transformation and awaking in a room with some sort of computer/tv/screen, and move on to the forums for all interaction until the end of this month's moon plot.]

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803 - Bedroom
[info]acatalyst
2010-05-27 04:12 am UTC (link)
When the moon began to set, Micah was in 802 with Cole, watching and waiting. Aaron's skeleton had been assembled, and Micah would have given anything for a cigar as they waited to see if the boy came to life, if he was able to move. Those were the fears that had kept Micah up the past week - that Aaron would be alive, but trapped thanks to what he and Cole had done.

He'd checked on Iris before he'd come to Cole's, ensured she was in her apartment with no intentions of going out. He didn't even try to send her to the panic room, mainly because he no longer trusted the man in charge. He'd ensured her window was fixed, and as long as Irene stayed inside, she'd be fine. She was a smart woman, with none of Iris' fears. And Micah knew Holmes would watch out for her, whatever the cost. Eliot might be an idiot, but Holmes was not.

When the sun set, Micah's gaze snapped to the white bones in front of him.

And then he was somewhere completely different. For a moment he was still himself, and he thought this was another stupid group endeavor about reading from books and summoning ugly things from the ocean. But a second later, he was Watson.

The room was blank, completely empty save the laptop on the floor in the center. He recognized the computer as Micah's, did Watson, and he walked away from it and checked every door, every window; nothing would open. He did not even know if there was anyone else in this unit he was in.

In the end, he groaned in pain as he lowered himself to the floor, setting his cane beside him, and he picked up the unfamiliar contraption. Holmes would be delighted with the new toy, he thought, with a small smile. Ah, how he missed his old companion.

And then he settled in for another evening, refusing to think about how his leg was going to ache come morning.

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1106 - Bedroom
[info]lemortvivant
2010-05-27 04:16 am UTC (link)
Bran had locked all the doors and windows, even though he was fairly sure Erik could get out if he wanted to - but he was hoping the man would see reason and stay where he was until the sun rose. He confined himself to his bedroom, thinking that the books along with the violin he'd brought might help keep his fable occupied, and placed the note Lotte had written on the floor next to a note he'd written himself. It told Erik to stay in the apartment because Christine wasn't here, and not to go down to the catacombs due to the fact that a trap had been sent there. People were looking for him, he'd written, people who wanted him dead.

So he sat on the bed and waited. As the sun set and the moon rose, he felt it - like a building pressure, forcing its way up his chest and throat before bursting free, and suddenly everything went black - but only for a moment. When his eyes opened he was Erik, clad in the same black clothing and mask as he'd been before. He frowned, not recognizing his surroundings - but then his eyes fell on the notes. First he read Christine's, and then the one the man called Bran had left him; the first he read three times but seemed relatively satisfied with, while the second confused him.

He rose and headed to the door, trying and failing to open it. A quick inspection revealed that there was no spaces whatsoever, and the doorknob stubbornly refused to turn... but how? Who had put him here? Erik curled his hands into fists, but it was then that he noticed the open laptop on the small desk beside him. It was a strange device, one he'd never seen before, but it fascinated him. Perhaps it offered a clue to how he'd come to find himself here.

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501 - Living Room
[info]still_lotte
2010-05-27 04:17 am UTC (link)
Lotte had settled on James' couch, while the other girl went to the bedroom when the change hit. The letter clenched tightly in her hand, was still there when she changed - the only thing to remain the same when Christine came. Her yoga pants and tank became a dressing gown and her hair was pinned up, in preparation for a wig. It didn't matter in any case - Christine never was one to care about how she looked. The unfamiliar room and the letter were her immediate concern and after looking the living room over, her eyes scanned the words in a familiar hand.

It didn't make sense and Christine's hands began to shake. Things barely clicked in her mind - the room from before and the confusion over why she wasn't in the theatre. (Of course, she wasn't there now, in this unfamiliar room and with no one she recognized...) And of course she knew Little Meg. Meg was safe, not like Raoul or Erik. What didn't make sense was being here only partially and how Erik could be convinced to leave her own by a simple letter.

Getting to her feet and biting her lip, Christine moved to one of the doors leading out - she wanted to peek into the hallway and see if it looked familiar - then found the door-handle wouldn't move. The letter was tucked into a pocket of her gown, as she tugged at the door. Horror overcame her as she realized it was locked.

"No," she whispered. She tried the handle again - once, twice, thrice, before a strangled sound escaped her. The letter - the one talked about in her letter - he must have gotten it. He knew, somehow before she had and locked her away again, somehow... Christine spun around, looking for other doors and trying them. Each came with the same results and the shaking spread from her hands to her whole body. Not again, not locked up again, like he'd done in the Louis-Philipe room- "No, no, no..."

From a corner of her eye, the television screen flickered to life. She whirled towards it, looking fearfully about before rushing towards it. Crouching on her knees before it, she began to plead once more. A device like this, could only be his - no one else could think up something like that.

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703 - Bedroom
[info]wickedwicker
2010-05-27 04:19 am UTC (link)
Really, Joanie wanted to sleep through this whole nonsense. But she had promised Luther that she would watch him and make sure that Javert didn't do something retarded. So despite the fact that she was running on just a handful of catnaps spread out over the last two days, she stumbled from her couch and let her friend in after he knocked.

They spent the next hour amusing themselves with card games and the occasional swat every time one of them - usually Joanie - began nodding off. Finally, it was just minutes before sundown. Remembering what Luther had said about Javert being a possible threat, she excused herself to her bedroom in order to create a knife to hide on her person. She didn't plan on stabbing him - god no - but perhaps having a weapon would intimidate the French inspector if he got difficult.

As she prepared to head back to her friend, Joanie realized two things. First, she realized that green lesions were spreading across her body like a wildfire. Second, she realized that her door wouldn't open. Suddenly terrified, she began tugging on it, kicking and shouting at the walls. "Hello?! Luther?! Are you there?"

Sighing when she heard no reply, she raked her fingers through her hair and swaggered over to her bed. If she was locked in, she might as well catch up on sleep. However, as she was about to lay down, she noticed something odd. Her laptop was on, not asleep, and it had the building's forum brought up. Eyes wide, she wandered over to her desk and sat down. She frowned, noticing the "voice message" feature that she had overlooked before.

She looked at the door, then the computer again. Oh, what the hell?

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1204
[info]dierache
2010-05-27 04:23 am UTC (link)
Jonathan wasn't sure what to expect. There was so much anticipation and preparation around what happened on the night of the full moon that it was difficult to ignore it and pretend it wasn't on its way.

He'd considered going down to the safe room. But it seemed that even benign members of the building could be dangerous during the moon, if what Micah said was to be trusted. That a fate like that could be his tonight made his blood run cold, but he ignored the possibility. What was the likelihood, really?

Still, it was best to err on the side of caution, so he'd stayed in his apartment.

It was likely for the best that he didn't know what to expect. The change creeped up on him slowly enough that he didn't know what was happening until he barely had time to register surprise. As he sat on his computer reading old pots centering around the moon, his clothing started to change. Cotton thickened and wove into a long wool coat shrugged over a waistcoat and dress shirt with pants to match. Not the clothing of one of the richest men in London, not the clothing of a criminal mastermind, but the clothing of a professor-respectable, a touch old-fashioned, and a little tattered at the edges.

Blending in was, of course, his specialty. Jonathan noted the changing edge of his sleeve with surprise that melted instantaneously into an easy calm, then a cold regard.

This was not his home.

None of these objects belonged to him, least of all the blinking screen a few inches away, foreign and bizarre. The professor got to his feet, lightly plucking his cleverly concealed air-rifle from where it had been leaning against the edge of the desk, and he tried the door. No need to stay in a stranger's apartment. Highly suspicious, to say the least, if he was caught. He could claim some form of insanity, perhaps, spells that he was subject to, a scholar's burden...

The door would not budge.

He tried it again, with no further luck. He looked up. No space between the door and the frame, no room to lever it out. He checked the walls and the bookshelf next to the door, and found no sign of a switch that would open it. He leveled his air rifle at it and calmly fired. The bullet bounced off the metal doorknob like it was nothing, and embedded in the plaster of the ceiling.

He walked back over to the screen. Despite never having seen anything like it in his life, he knew instinctively how to work it, and sat back down in front of it, setting the air rifle aside.

Facts. He needed facts and information to know why he felt fit, athletic, and like his own body didn't quite fit him. He needed to know where Holmes was, what the state of his organization was, and, most importantly, how to get out of this stranger's apartments before he was discovered trapped inside them. And then he could concern himself with punishing whoever it was who had seen fit to shut him in.

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802 - Living room
[info]blackcatsrbad
2010-05-27 04:25 am UTC (link)
Cole had been secretly glad that Micah was there with him, since Watson was much more level-headed and rational than Ichabod was - in situations that involved people coming back from the dead in the form of skeletons, at least. He hated the fact that he wouldn't be here when Aaron came back, but there was nothing he could do except hope that Ichabod was even more aware of his counterpart than last time.

But when the sun set and he watched the bones anxiously for signs of life, something happened. It was too quick to pinpoint, but suddenly Micah and Aaron's bones were gone, leaving him alone in the living room which was much smaller than he previously remembered... but then he wasn't Cole anymore; he was Ichabod.

"Oh!" He recognized the living room, although he didn't remember there being walls and a door to his left, since this room wasn't supposed to be cut off from the rest of the apartment. The television in front of him suddenly turned on, and he raised his eyebrows at it. Well, this was interesting. He knew what the television was because of Cole's knowledge, of course; perhaps it could be used to contact someone else. Hadn't Watson just been here a moment ago? And where was the skeleton boy?

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209 - Bedroom
[info]bookshelved
2010-05-27 04:40 am UTC (link)
Ella had spent the entire day attempting to stand her ground and not see Daniel. Once the moon passed, she told herself, that would be soon enough. She'd worked until 2:30, and every time the bell on the door had jingled she'd looked up hopefully, willing him to come through the door and sweep her up in her arms and -

Her mother had been right, it seemed. Too many books had given her unrealistic expectations of men.

She'd closed the shop early (all the flowers were dead and wilted anyway), and she'd gone to Luther's safe room. She'd helped as much as they would allow, which did not seem to be much, and when the sun lowered in the sky she was sitting against the wall, staring blindly at the taser in her hands, her laptop resting against her knees, trying to force herself not to run up to R1. She feared, desperately, that the Beast would reject her version of Beauty, what with Jane back; she didn't think she had the emotional strength to handle losing that connection.

The moment when she flickered out of 109 was brief, so brief that she only noticed she had switched location because of the complete quiet around her.

Then everything inside her changed as well, and with the change came a blissful calm, a certainty.

Beauty knew she wouldn't be leaving this room immediately, however, due to the clothing she was wearing, and this displeased her. She tugged the long plait of her hair over her shoulder, and she sucked on the end thoughtfully. She knew Ella's fears, of course. And she could not be sure she was the Beast's Beauty - perhaps the other woman was, but she was herself. Of that she was certain. She had not changed. In her mind, she was not a tale, she was simply herself. And herself was as it had always been.

She looked down at the machine on her lap, her fingers familiar with the keys, since Ella could type in the dark with ease. Her Beast or no, she was worried about him, and she would continue to be so until she knew he was well.

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501 - bedroom.
[info]ex_peepshows656
2010-05-27 04:47 am UTC (link)
She'd gone to the bedroom to change into clothes that offered more comfort than second skin jeans or a push-up bra, and was halfway out of her heels when the door slammed loudly behind her.

James spun with a girlish yelp, but in that moment she was no longer James. Her dress was a flare of rich skirts and lace, constrictive with the sturdy laces of a whaleboned corset. She examined the strange heel in her hand before dropping it to the floor and trying the door which had swung closed so suddenly. Meg felt quite certainly, considering her state of dress, that she had somewhere to be right now, but no matter how hard she pulled on the door, it did not budge.

Frowning, but not particularly worried, she stepped back to examine her bedroom. For it was Meg's; detailed with a traditionally Victorian bed and plush, white comforter. But, on the bed itself, sat a laptop.. and while Meg did not know what the device was, she somehow felt familiar with it and knelt on the sheets alongside it. The screen was open to the forum, and voices were coming from the speakers.

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[info]thimbledarling
2010-05-27 04:54 am UTC (link)
Tegan had finished dinner and was helping James clear the dishes to the sink, grateful that it was his night to do them. She'd told him about talking to that Inspector earlier on the forum, and he'd agreed that it was probably best to not have strangers stop by. She also reminded him that it was the full moon, and how strange things had become last month. He nodded as she turned to get more of the dishes, smiling at Tommy, who was sitting on the floor in the living room, finishing his food while using the coffee table as a "dining" table.

He looked up at her and grinned, and in the next second Tegan was looking at the inside of the closed door of an unfamiliar room. Panic set in instantly as she tried the door and found it locked to her. She blinked in shock as she realized the moon was just coming up and that she had only a few more seconds as herself. "James! James, can you hear me? I don't know where I am! I'm trapped in here, but I'm okay! But... things are changing!"

Wendy frowned and shook her head. Things weren't right. She was certain she'd just been with her brothers, but now she was in a vacant room.

"Michael? John?" She couldn't hear them on the other side of the door, and with it locked, there was no way to get to them. She turned slowly in a circle, looking for a way out of the room. Her nightgown swayed against her legs as she saw the window and ran to it, looking for Peter, certain that he would be there to help her.

He wasn't there, though, and she looked back, seeing the glowing thing in the center of the room, and a spark of recognition drew her to it. She ran her fingers over the keys and bit her lip as she thought, her mind still swirling with gentle panic.

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P1 - Living Room
[info]snow_bees
2010-05-27 05:09 am UTC (link)
Deirdre sat in her living room, watching the sun set through her windows, and the first curve of moon appear. When it did, there was very little change in her demeanor, save for a slight haughtiness to the line of her spine as the heavy robe draped around her. She eyed the nearby machine with detached interest, knowing what it was, even as the snow began to drift softly, slower and less heavy than in previous months. She saw the posts, heard the voices, but ignored them until the pounding started somewhere outside her castle walls.

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P3 - Study
[info]nobleblood
2010-05-27 05:10 am UTC (link)
Vlad and Helena had been slightly more prepared this time around, having barricaded themselves inside the apartment with a combination of holy relics and heavy items that two vampires might have difficulty moving. There was no real way to keep them permanently contained, but all they could do was hope for the best. He could handle another murder on his head, but he knew she couldn't.

He braced himself for the rising moon, closing his eyes as he felt the vampire begin to break free - by the time he'd opened them, it was Dracula who surveyed the room with a scowl. He knew this room as the mortal's study, but what he wanted was not here. No, he needed to find Mina so they could hunt, and perhaps this time he could finally finish off Van Helsing.

When he attempted to get out, however, the door wouldn't budge. No matter how hard he pushed, what usually would have broken under his strength stood firm against his attacks. Snarling, he noticed the laptop on the desk and approached it, determined to discover who was behind this.

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307 - Living Room
[info]arcere
2010-05-27 05:15 am UTC (link)
Aiden hadn't left his room much that week, preferring to stay inside with the door locked and his box of Joanie-crafted weapons by his side. He'd been working furiously and sleeping as little as possible, loathing the building's very existence, wishing it had never come into existence as he dropped columns of information into the word processor and send off chapter piece after chapter piece to a confused but not altogether ungrateful editor.

When the full moon night rolled around, he was ready. He was going to finish this, for fuck's sake, and nothing was going to get between him and his goal. Sure, it would technically be Van Helsing taking the life of Dracula, but in his mind, it was still his hand, still his body, still his hate driving the stake into that fucking bastard's heart and not someone else doing their 'solemn duty'. He sat by his computer, the box between his feet, and waited.

When Van Helsing opened his eyes, he sighed heavily and rubbed at his throat. Aiden truly had very little control, but who could blame him? He had seen that dream, had felt every injury as if it had been his own. How fortunate that it was but a dream. Ah, and here was the box, as ready as ever. Such a deplorable task ahead but absolutely necessary. He crossed to the door and tried to open it --

Hm. Locked. He twisted the handle a few times, but it refused to budge. The door's edges were sealed shut; the windows were locked firmly against his attempts. How very strange. And potentially worrisome. If he was trapped and Dracula was running loose, then people were surely in mortal danger. They had to be warned!

The glow of the nearby screen caught his eye. Memories of Aiden's filtering back into his mind, Van Helsing sat down at the desk and, his curiosity attending, began to read.

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P3 - Guest bedroom
[info]old_fashioned
2010-05-27 05:27 am UTC (link)
Helena was nervous when the sun finally dipped below the horizon.  They had put up precautions as best they could, set up barricades to try to prevent them from leaving P3, but there was still no way of knowing how anything would hold. During the last moon she had practically clawed her way out of a study room, had it not been for sharp vines keeping her in. But they had to try, even on on such short notice. Between the barricades and the crosses that she hung by the front door, she hoped they did a fine enough job.

When it came time she ducked into the guest bedroom, not wanting Vlad to hear her.  The pain of the transformation had been excruciating, and while she was sure he had his own to handle, she still didn't want him listening to hers. Once the sun had set and the moon rose it happened, and she was too distracted by her own change to pay attention to the room around her. She was without a cross this time, so it hadn't burned as badly as it did last month. When it stopped she looked down at herself. Her gown was red once more, her skin pale and cold, fangs poking out over her lip and a sharp and hungry burn in her throat. 

When she looked around, she spotted the strange device - Helena's laptop she dimly recalled -  and noticed the strange sounds starting to come from it.  They were a distant second to what really caught her attention. She was trapped in this room. The door that had led her in was now sealed shut. She gave it a heavy hit, fist coming up against the wood, but she didn't feel any buckling or bending under her hand. Again, and again, she tried, more out of shock than of any real urgency.  She knew Dracula was somewhere nearby, could feel him easily enough, but she couldn't get out. There was no one around to worry about, no one to aid him, no one to spring her loose.

As far as she could tell, everyone was safe from her. 

Mina was so happy she could have cried. 

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204 - Living Room/Bedroom
[info]sultana
2010-05-27 05:28 am UTC (link)
Joss had just settled on her air mattress with a piece of pizza when the change came. This time she was more aware, watching the clock skeptically as her skin turned brown and something about her memories shifted. Another blink and her clothes were not hers - though not because she wouldn't have picked them. Hell, she'd have put on a harem girl outfit if she thought she could afford it. Or at least, know where to get one.

It crossed her mind briefly, that she should be thankful that she wasn't stuck in the palace - this couldn't be there. But it was shoved aside - hello, this was home. Thinking straight needed to start now. With a forced grin, she flopped next to her computer - intending to mock others as she tried to keep her own thoughts straight.

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102 - Living room "Laboratory"
[info]sneakingaround
2010-05-27 05:36 am UTC (link)
Archer knew what was coming, but he didn't want to prepare for it. No, he was going to act as if everything were normal, and Griffin would do nothing. Ever since those three people had found out about him, he wanted to remain quiet. He wanted to stay dormant, hidden. Out of the public eye just as his gift would allow him.

He paused at the electrophoresis machine, holding up a gel. Squinting at it, he set it down, rubbing his temples. He was getting another headache. Lovely. He moved to go to the bathroom, but found that he couldn't open the door to it. Then he turned to the front door. That was locked as well. He glanced down, and with a gasp, realized that his hands were gone.

"Hello, Dr. Archer." His voice was cool and fierce. "I hope that you've been busy."

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1007 - Main
[info]ex_sanguine300
2010-05-27 06:01 am UTC (link)
Boyd had been in 1007 all day. She hadn't talked to Shane since she'd signed off on the forums, but she had spoken to Mikey for a very long time, and he'd come over and paid her a visit that had ended up in an exchange of intimacy for promises. The pamphlets for the police department had found their way into her trashcan, and she'd spent the afternoon looking through the classifieds for a job.

She'd just finished circling a dancing job when the sun began to set, and she pushed away from the desk and went to watch it. She sighed. "Please don't go gettin' in trouble, Red," she pleaded aloud. "Go find us a job or somethin' useful instead."

Red, when she made an appearance was not pleased at being locked inside, and being young, she got on the computer within seconds and started interacting. Maybe she'd find fun on the forums, if she couldn't get outside.

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601
[info]wolfishane
2010-05-27 06:28 am UTC (link)
Shane had locked the door after he spoke with Boyd, and after that spoke to no one else.

He pushed a dresser in front of the door for good measure, and hoped, at least, that the Wolf wouldn't try to jump through the windows. He couldn't leave him a note or send him a message, so all he could do was hope.

He wondered why he was even bothering with all of this.

When it was nearly time for the moon to rise, he shucked his clothes and waited, as calmly as he could, for the change to come. When it did it came fast and painful. He was starting to get more used to it, but some aspects of it would never stop being a freshly agonizing experience every time.

When it was done, the Wolf went for the door. Finding a dresser in the way, he simply slammed his considerable weight into it until it was far enough from the door that he might claw it open. But it refused to give.

Thwarted in his efforts, he paced the apartment, looking for another exit. Then the TV caught his eye, glaring brightly into the main room of the apartment and softly playing the voices of the other tenants. He padded up to it to investigate, and to make sure Red wasn't off somewhere getting herself killed.

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701 - bedroom
[info]beaute_endormie
2010-05-27 07:02 am UTC (link)
Rosalie was getting ready to go to Stefan's as the moon rose. When her nightgown tumbled down into a long white dress, she was expecting it and barely glanced up to see the sharp thorny vines crawling up her walls. Her eyes were still rimmed red, from drinking or tears, and she could feel the air drag her throat with every breath, drying it out further.

There were some vague shouts that barely caught her attention before shots began to be fired. Immediately, Rosalie reached through the brambles for the door and tried to twist it. Although the plants let her reach the door, she couldn't get out of her bedroom as the gunfire continued. She tried for another minute before she turned and saw the laptop on her bed. Perhaps someone else knew something, either about the doors or the shooting.

Coughing, she climbed back on top of the huge white bed, smoothed her dress, and dragged a warm blanket around her shoulders. Curling up on a pillow, she pulled the laptop closer to check the forums. What was Bellum up to now?

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[info]withinastory
2010-05-27 12:13 pm UTC (link)
Sherri had been curled up in bed once more, this time with her copy of Arabian Nights. Lotte's mention of her tale, and her friend's tale, had sparked her curiosity since she didn't have more than a passing familiarity with either. She didn't own Phantom of the Opera, so at dusk when the craziness was supposed to begin she grabbed a TV dinner and flipped to "Sinbad the Seaman and Sinbad the Landsman." A couple of pages in she decided it was really too bad that there was this whole category of fairy tales that she was largely unfamiliar with, because it was really...

All wrong. Why was she even bothering to read this travesty? She knew the tale by heart after all - and someone had gone through and chopped out the best parts! There was no way she could have kept King Shahryar amused with the version she was reading. Where were the naughty bits? Where was the content? Did anyone truly think that what little there was in the book was all?

Determined to destroy the insult to her ability as a storyteller, she rose and looked around the room. Ripping it apart page by page was forgotten as she caught sight of the large, clunky pawn shop computer, sitting with the apartment complex's main page pulled up. Maybe someone would have the unabridged version, and if not she would look for it on Amazon so she could see if that was any better. She sank down into her chair, put the book on the rickety desk, and refreshed the page.

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403 - Living Room
[info]reclamation
2010-05-27 06:19 pm UTC (link)
Will was, against most of his common sense, keeping track of the full moon. He knew it was stupid, but he figured that after last time, he'd be best to do it. He remembered stalking the building intent on murdering everybody in it, and no matter what else he thought, he knew he had to keep himself from actually killing anyone. He was done with that part of his life. Had been done with it for almost twenty years. Unfortunately, there wasn't a lot you could do to barricade a door and not get charged for destroying the doorjam.

Eventually, he settled on turning every lock and shoving a chair against it, though he figured that wasn't going to do a whole hell of a lot, given that he broke at least one door last time. Still, he sat on his couch and waited, wondering if he shouldn't have tied himself up or something.

The moon hit and what rose was the Headless Horseman. There wasn't much thinking, just a determined silence and a world in shades of black. People were out there, after all. The Horseman stood and pulled away the chair with ease, grabbed the door handle, and - found no response. He turned it harder, then kicked with all his strength at the door.

Nothing.

The windows were the same - sealed shut, unbreakable even as glass! He was foiled! Though his emotions had long since burned to cooled embers, something flared, and the Horseman began to wreck havoc on the room he was trapped in. If he couldn't take the heads he was due, then everything else would suffer for it.

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