Marco (thatdarnoctopus) wrote in zenithrp, @ 2015-11-05 22:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | #day 007, marco |
Who: Marco
What: Marco stages a break-in, part 1
When: About 3 AM
Where: His room, then Noah's doorway
"Thin ice?" Marco spat at his computer screen. "I'm trying to hide that I'm using heroin, not fucking Flintstones chewables!"
Marco had only been half-asleep when his computer had started beeping. He'd been sedated a good chunk of the previous day, and his sleep schedule was already good and fucked for it. Later, he'd wonder when he had passed out that they were able to go in and put whatever soaps were there now. But now, he was quietly panicking over the note on his computer.
He was on thin ice. He needed to break into people's rooms, or else no more drugs, ever.
Fuck. Fuck shit. Fuck shit fuck.
"What the fuck am I doing?" he wondered. He'd been close to being done with withdrawal before, hadn't he? How stupid had it been, to give that up? This could have been like rehab. This could have been like rehab.
Too late now, though. All he had to do was jiggle a fucking doorknob, and he'd be fine. They'd keep making sure he got his fix, and he didn't even have to worry about spending money on it. He'd expected worse tasks. Playing with a doorknob was easy. Breaking into an unlocked room was easy. He could do both if he wanted to.
…Yeah, he could do both. No more thin ice. No more danger of being cut off.
"Fucking fuck," he groaned into his hands.
He left his room repeating the names of the people listed. Cecilia, Chase, Noah, and Lana. Cecilia, Chase, Noah, and Lana. He mentally thanked Cecilia for coming up with putting names on the doors, and for a moment wondered if he should go fight with her door. No one would suspect that someone from the third floor would run down to the first floor to break in, right? They'd be more likely to get caught.
Oh yeah, they'd be more likely to get caught.
Lana's door was right across the hall from him. That would be easy, but wouldn't that make him a prime suspect? It was too easy. No, it had to be one of the guys on the second floor.
He felt like everyone could hear his heart pounding as he crept down the stairs and turned towards the lounge. Maybe it made more sense to go back upstairs, and mess with Lana's door after all. She was probably less likely to beat him into a pulp if he got caught. Then again, if he got caught, it didn't matter who it was who caught him. Everyone would hear about it, and someone would injure him.
He is walking to the door, a voice in his head said.
He was shaking as he got to Noah's door. Which one was Noah? Was Noah a big guy? Billy was the boxer, but who was Noah?
Fuck it.
He gripped the doorknob. He shook it hard, twisting it until it protested, then he hit the door with his shoulder. Once, twice, three times, and then he ran, nearly crashing into one of the lounge couches as he went. Were his footsteps too heavy? Fuck fuck fuck fuck. He tried to calm himself and run on his toes, so he wouldn't be heard.
As he escaped to his room, he was still half-sure that everyone could hear his heart pounding.
"One down," he whispered to himself.