Who: Lucy Nash and open to anyone and everyone What: Exploring the house and new meetings. Where: The Kitchens When: Day 16; 10:16 am.
Lucy didn’t remember how she got where she was. That bothered her more than words could describe—She didn’t remember. Lucy, the girl who remembered how many kids were in her third-grade class. Lucy, the girl who could tell you any element given a periodic number. Lucy, the girl who knew the social security numbers of everyone in her family. How could she not remember what had led her to this place?
Lucy pulled her knees to her chest. The room was brilliant, but terrifying at the same time. She was going to be sick, she could already feel the lump of panic in her chest, hard and furious. She just had to breathe, maybe this was some ultra realistic dream?
She knew it wasn’t. She didn’t remember going to sleep. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on what she did remember. She had been walking home from work. She left Heroes for Hire at three minutes passed five. She turned the corner to go down Hawthorne to her apartment complex. It was typically a busy street, but there had been some construction rerouting most of the vehicles another way. She hadn’t seen any, had she? She didn’t remember. Had there been… a shadow? That didn’t seem correct, but maybe it was. She let out a shaky breath.
She needed to get out of the hospital gown. That was the first step, she told herself. Get dressed and warm yourself up. Then you can think clearly. She counted each step as she walked to the box that seemed to contain her things, as if when she turned around the room would be gone or different. She eyed the camera and tried to use her hospital gown to shield herself as she changed. Just one more breath. One more breath and she’d open the door. One more breath and she’d wake up from this strange, disturbing dream.
But the door wouldn’t budge. It was locked. She spent time looking around the room, trying to find a key, anything she could use to jimmy the door (not that she had that skill set, other than having seen it on television). Pacing the room had been a pointless, but oddly comforting endeavor. Eventually, her attention had been brought towards the blinking of the computer in the corner. Maybe this would be the way to get through to whoever was doing this. If they could see her like she expected, then surely they realized that they had grabbed the wrong girl. They were probably only holding her for fear that she’d seen their face, or would tell. She wouldn’t. She swore that to herself. If her silence meant that she could go home and pretend this never happened, then she certainly would.
Little comfort came from her attempt at communication. If anything, it made her feel worse. There were people who were here for months-- over 100 days. And there were shock implants in their skin? Lucy couldn’t help but subconsciously rub the back of her neck, feeling the tender spot there and knowing that the people talking to her must be right. That also meant that the door must be unlocked by now, which must mean that either the person keeping everyone captive was in the house, or it was controlled by an electric mechanism attached to her computer. Either way, she would look into that later. First, she wanted to get a feel of her surroundings.
Lucy had taken another lap around her room, looking for something that she might be able to use to defend herself, but she came up short. She’d considered attempting to take apart her shower curtain, but found the bar attached to the wall. She tried to remind herself what was said-- that things, and people here, weren’t outright dangerous, but her spider-senses were tingling as such.
It had taken her a little while still to work up the nerve to leave the room. She had taken a few more breaths, before slowly opening the door. She could see that the stairs went up and down, which meant that she was on the middle floor. She had wished, instead, that Chase had given her a map of the house instead of the town, but she would make due. She moved towards the stairs, more interested in the ground floor for now, in hopes that an exit could lie there despite what the others said.
She couldn’t tell exactly how long she’d moved about the first floor. She’d come down into the rather fancy foyer, and taken a peak at what seemed to be an oversized study and a dining room that seemed to sit around two dozen. It was there that she knicked a candlestick holder from the table, and moved around the house wielding it in front of her.
She could do this, she had trained for this hadn’t she? This was no more than an immersive Larp, right? She took another steadying breath. ‘You’re just a rogue,’ she told herself, opening the door to the kitchen, and suddenly realizing just how thirsty she was. She tucked the sconce under her arm as she pulled open the refrigerator, spying a water bottle. She nearly dropped both the makeshift weapon, and the drink as she heard movement coming towards the kitchen. She should hide, or at least get a better grip on the candle holder, but instead she froze, just staring at the entryway.