Sammy Whaley (understands) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2014-02-10 17:22:00 |
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Sammy’s parents had never taken her to an amusement park. She had never argued with that fact, though she had always suspected that it was because her parents didn’t want to deal with the trouble it would cause. They may not have understood exactly what was going on with their daughter, but her parents had learned early on that Sammy did not do well in crowds. She was struggling as it was with the small group of three she was currently with; the argument could be made, however, that it was the stress of running from a pack of ravenous killer clowns. There had been another girl with them, but she had separated from the group. Sammy was still trying to decipher hew own feelings on that fact. Was she happy that they had parted ways because the girl wanted to, as opposed to her being taken? Was she upset that her scouting endeavor seemed to have only been a means to run off on her own? Or was she terrified that the reason the other brunette hadn’t returned was because she had been killed? Either way, she had little time to stop and dwell on her (or the others) emotions. The maps within the souvenir shop had been useful, if not a bit disheartening. There had been a good reason that no one could spot an exit from the roller coaster. Whatever had put them in this weird, horror land had dropped them directly in the center of the amusement park, and it was going to take a lot more than a quick jog to reach an exit.
She had taken advantage of the male witch’s offer to heal her wrist. Her family had remained relatively isolated from the collective hunter community, but she had still heard rumors of witchcraft that could heal wounds almost on the spot, hearsay that had been confirmed by the Light of May. Had she been anywhere near comfortable with her own supernatural abilities, she might have considered looking into learning the art herself; as it was, Sammy was content with being as human as possible. Despite the absence of pain, her wrist felt tight. Even still, she was appreciative of the boy’s help; besides, it was likely that the tension was all in her mind.
When the time came for the group to move again, Sammy had grabbed anything and everything that looked remotely useful. She had packed a cheap, glaring neon bag with a few t-shirts (in case they needed bandages or tourniquets), more lighters (considering that she was lacking pockets of her own to put them in), and some of the more edible looking candy items around the register. There was no telling how long it would take them to get out of the park while trying to avoid the clowns; it could easily take hours and they needed to keep their energy up. Her weapon of choice turned out to be one of the decorative Swiss Army knives on display by the cheap jewelry. It was unlikely that she could do serious damage with the one inch blade, but she was confident that she could hurt them with it.
They had set off with an intended path, but it had needed to be changed several times on the fly when the clowns caught wind of their pounding feet on the pavement. Sammy had seen more of this park than she had ever imagined possible; any desire she still held (if there had been any in the first place) to go to a theme park on her own had been effectively squashed. “I think we need a place to regroup,” she called out to the others. So far her stamina was holding strong, but she wasn’t so sure how long they could continue running like rats in a maze.