Abra Behari (abrasively) wrote in mountzenithrp, @ 2018-09-14 00:05:00 |
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Entry tags: | #day 001, abra, dylan, ettie, justice, scotty, tasiya |
Who: Abra and OPEN! MULTIPLES OKAY!
Where: Second floor
When: First things first I'm the realest
The ceiling was gold.
Not allover gold, though it initially appeared that way. Abra lay in a haze for what felt like a lifetime, unable to remember the moment she woke or when she opened her eyes. The world around her was a brilliant golden blur that only slowly, gradually came into focus. The room was not golden, only accented in it. Was that gold wainscoting? Was that the correct word for it? She stared up at it, her vision swimming with lights and stars. The room was flooded with light from the outside world. It was too bright, but it was a warm sort of light, and she liked it. She could swear the golden accents were shimmering.
Clumsily, she lifted a hand as if to touch, not realizing that it was much too far away to reach. Her limbs felt dead and heavy, and something was holding her back. Abra felt the tug of the IV and eyed it curiously. She reached for that, and saw the identification bracelet on her other wrist.
As long as it took for her vision to focus on the ceiling, it seemed to take twice as long to be able to read the printed letters. It was only then that the unease drifted in. "What the fuck," she whispered, her own tongue feeling wrong in her mouth. Her eyes began scanning the room, stopping when they saw the camera. Abra stared blankly at that camera, swamped by the white noise of her own mind. She remembered getting into a cab. Or, what she'd thought was a cab. She remembered hearing someone in the row of seats behind her in the yellow SUV. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..." She'd seen enough horror movies. None of this could mean anything good.
She'd never had to fight so hard for anything in her life as she had to fight to get out of that bed. Ripping the IV out was nothing to her. Getting her legs to obey her, that was the difficulty. She half-fell out of bed and crawled over to the box, staring down at her own neatly folded clothing. "Gee thanks, roofie cab. Such considerate rapists. I do hope you have comment cards in these five-star accommodations." She was talking nonsense. She didn't feel raped, but now that she stopped to really think about it, would she know? And she did stop to think about it, staring off into the distance and tilting her head to the side, concentrating hard on her lady parts. She was sore all over, but felt no pain in that area.
Okay, so maybe they hadn't raped her yet. Maybe they were waiting for her to wake-up. Maybe this whole thing was broadcast on the deep web somewhere and showtime hadn't started yet. Who the fuck knew. Abra got dressed and managed to climb to her feet.
Goddamn but this was a beautiful room. If she had to pick a place to get roofied and gangraped on the internet, this was one hell of a locale for it. "Bye room," she said. "Sorry I can't stick around and keep you. I've got dicksucks that need killing, and I'm feeling about ready to go Hostel on this bitch." She flipped off the camera and headed for the door.