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Posted

The elevator door slowly shuts with a satisfying sound.


You look around the elevator and see an ugly wood wall, the top of the elevator is metal.


Music begins playing. ((

))


You begin to come to your senses and see several other people. You begin to count down some facts right off the top of your head to get an idea of what's going on. You're in LA It's around the ninety-sixties to eighties or, Miami? Somewhere around that area, what else... you're carrying some kind of guilt? Are you a criminal? Did you do something? You're frustrated, were you drugged? Why did you just wake up from some trance? Where do you live? Why are you in this elevator? What are you wearing?


All these questions fly through your head, you pause for a moment and try to think straight for a moment.

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Posted

((Fine))


My head feels like it's about to burst any second...I got a wierd mixture of happiness and sickness in my body.


I look down to see a black suit on me, with a white shirt and a red tie.

Posted

My nose suddenly tickles and causes my left eye to twitch spastically.


I reach up to wipe it, before glancing down and noticing the large smear of blood and white power on my hand.


I raise my hand to my nostrils once more as more blood would wash over my fingertips. Why the fuck is my nose bleeding?

Posted

Ugh. My fucking ears are ringing too. Why. God, why. This sucks. I wanna go back to sleep.


No, can't sleep. Have a job to do. Wait, what was the job again? Think. Think, think, think, you asshole. THINK.


Fucking head. Can't focus. Why am I here? Job. Score. Ears. Ringing. Ow.

Posted

Vision. I can see now. Ugh, fuck. Pain. PAIN. THE FUCKING PAIN.


Wait. Where am I? It's dark in here. Really dark. And bumpy.


This isn't the elevator. This ain't sunny Miami or Tampa Beach.


I hear voices. Muffled. Talking about 'the guy.' 'In the trunk.'


Aw, fuck. Really?

Posted

Your mind races as you realize you aren't in an elevator.


The truck begins roaring and loud mechanical clanking sounds are heard.


This place smells like shit, it's rusty and busted. You see a couple of glass shards on the floor and some blood stains. Beneath you is a collection of wooden boards working as some kind of floor.


A couple beams of light penetrate through the small holes in the back of the cargo container.


You see yourself and three other people in the container. You look at them, you're all in bindings.


You see one guy, he's average build, a little bit fat. he's in some fairly casual clothes, jeans and a t-shirt, he has a strip of scotch tape on his shirt that has the writing 'canon' on it. This guy looks like a sore thumb in comparison to everyone else, looks like they just picked some college student off the street.


Another one, wimpy kind of guy, he's dressed in his pajamas. There's a piece of scotch tape on his forehead that says, 'Hive'. But something looks off about him, like some kind of wolf in sheep's clothing.


Third guy, he's all beat up. He looks like some kind of old homeless person, but, he doesn't look like there's anything wrong with him, he's a little bit fat actually. He has a strip of tape on his left bicep that says, 'Delta'. He's wearing a nice, pinstripe suit.


Fourth guy, holy fuck he must be crazy, his name is apparently 'Lemon'. His hair's all messed up, he has all kinds of symbols and writings on him. You can't make out what they say but it's not gibberish, some kind of message? You don't know. He's dressed in nothing but his boxer shorts.

Posted

The truck bumps on something and Hive's bindings break loose. Shitty work.


You need to get out of this place, quit thinking, start doing.


Hive looks through a hole in the truck and sees miles of forest.

Posted

Forests... Fuck yeah, bro.


Trees are fuckable, right?


Oh, shit, I should kick that Lemon guy for breaking my concentration.


*thunk*


HAH! Fuuuuuckerrr!


**Hive then unties the three excuses for real men and flops onto his back, staring at the roof of the cargo container.

Posted

Ahhhh.


Pain.


Pain means life, you jackass, get on your feet. Or knees, whatever.


**Hive rolls onto his stomach and pushes himself onto all fours, removing his right hand from the floor to scrape a shard of glass out of his shoulder.

Posted

Some voice in your head shouts, "You stupid motherfuckers! Get out of this truck and stop thinking heavily, do stuff! Jesus Christ, I've seen sloths more active than you."

Posted

Fuck, I gotta get out of here.


Who the fuck was that?


...I'm off my daily jacking off schedule


Are those boards?


*Canon begins to furiously stomp on the wooden boards*

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