Anna and Ariel, Gingers United
Good thing Ariel's stomach wasn't all that weak, otherwise the odor and view of it all would have sent her to the corner to throw up today's breakfast. More blood had gotten on her, with little itty-bitty chunks of whatever organs were leaking out of lacerations from their underbellies. Frantically, she tried wiping her hands elsewhere - on the walls, her jeans, anywhere - to get it off her skin, now white and pale as a ghost's. She couldn't find the voice to scream; her mouth had been too busy trying not to ungracefully gag from it all.
The laundry room actually had linen to clean, too. All stained, with all kinds of colors that could only come from a body. It all smelled rotten, like they had slid straight the hotel's version of a cemetery. Her light quickly flashed onto what they were looking for - a door with the word 'EXIT' on top - and she didn't waste time opening it. "Let's go!"