Spooky Tales Around A Bonfire [Social|Open]

[Amyas Eoghan Hodges]

Amyas Eoghan Hodges Human Assassin Lv. 1

HP 100% MP 100%

STATUS: None

---

The heart of Londin. The large clock tower dominated the landscape to the east, trees to the west and north, and the spires of the Westminster Palace and Westminster Abbey running from the south of the clock tower to the south. While geographically this might not be the centre of Londinium, it might as well be the central area. More traffic flows through here on a daily basis than any other location in the city. Grocer stands ran down the roads, the guild hall was built into the Palace building, and the Abbey was where adventurers return when they die. This area in particular was a crossroads where several roads intersecting all led outside of the city on all sides of the inner city. In the centre of the crossroads, a small grassy area that is kept neat and tidy for festivals organized by charismatic adventurers, usually on the fly. But on this day, the adventurers seemed for have gathered to celebrate a holiday rather than just hold a random party. They called it Halloween. Many adventurers had dressed up in costume as monsters, animals, and fancy dress. Everyone also seemed to be intent on frightening each other. Several buildings that day had been decorated with paper ghosts, carved pumpkins with candles in the, and eerie candle light displays. The adult adventurers also gave sweets to the younger adventurers and were very inclusive, trying to get People of the Land to participate in the festivities as well, and many did. Everything was winding down, though. The sun had set and most of the city had gone dark except for Parliament Square. In the middle of the small grassy park area, a large pile of rotten wood which had been collected after renovating old buildings and scraps from crafting was lit on fire. Surrounding the fire were wood benches, a safe distance from the fire to not catch on fire but still close enough to feel the heat, and blankets where adventurers sat to watch the fire and talk. It was a calm get together and no one was obligated to stay, all were welcome to sit and enjoy the dancing flames if they could stand the smell of the burning wood.

And that's when Amyas came in. He had enjoyed the simple festivities of the day and had worn a simple mask as his contribution to the celebration he knew very little about. A grotesque wooden mask carved and painted to look like an undead monster, a zombie probably. It wasn't perfect, it was just a novice woodcrafter's attempt at contributing to the festivities and Amyas didn't want to say no at the time. Amyas sat on a bench that wasn't occupied and casually removed his fedora and lifted the mask off his face. He placed his hat back onto his head and looked over the mask again before tossing it into the fire as a sort of end to the day ritual. He adjusted his black burlap trench coat onto his shoulders and checked his pockets casually to make sure he hadn't gotten pick pocketed during the evening. When everything was where it was supposed to be, he relaxed and looked around at the various people illuminated by the light of the flames. Many adventurers in casual clothing, it wasn't possible to really know for certain whether the people he was looking at were adventurers or normal people. Perhaps that was for the best for this time of peace. Many people were alert and talking amongst themselves and their friends, a few had fallen asleep on the grass. It was a cool autumn night, no moon in the sky but countless stars. The more he sat here, the more he got used to the smell of the old wood burning and he didn't mind it any more.

---

Skills Used: n/a

Tags: n/a

NOTES: This is a simple Halloween thread. Nothing really special, just a little get together to socialize and tell spooky stories. I'll wait for a few people to join, then post again myself. If anyone wants to bring up the idea to tell stories, it's first come first serve, otherwise I will use an NPC to suggest the idea in my next post. Little rule with the stories, no copy pasting stories. You can use existing ghost stories and creepypastas, but you MUST paraphrase the story by telling it in your character's own words. Use this thread as an opportunity to get in one or two big posts before the double AP period ends. ;)

[Deleted]

415 words HP 100%		Pet: none MP 100%
After Caerbannog’s recent brushes against the corrupted and supernatural, the samurai decided to join in some festivities for a change. But of course, the theme was timely: Halloween. Landers knew little about it so it was mostly an adventurer thing, but the more light-hearted side of the celebration made the people of the land feel involved with the old lives of the adventurers. Caerbannog herself just walked around in her usual attire; no longer the school girl outfit, because dear Kumori still had to work on his tailoring levels, the samurai wore her full-plate o-yoroi with a mask that hid even her face. Only the vertically-challenged adventurer’s blue eyes could be seen, and the rest of her was hidden under black iron armor reminiscent of great samurai. Because she rarely even spoke, those who saw her did not realize that a pint-sized girl was walking around in that black armor. Her name was rather ambiguous as well so the samurai kept up the air of mystery around her and walked on. Eventually, she found her way to Parliament Square where people gathered around the bonfire. She glanced to her left and right, and eventually settled for the cold ground near an occupied bench. Caerbannog looked over to the nearby assassin. She nodded at him before her attention was turned to the fire in front of them. It was rather hot inside her armor what with her proximity to the fire, and the armor being full-plated metal. Maybe it wasn’t sure a good idea... but the wolf-hair thought it made for a nice costume so she kept it on. The stares and pointing that she got from landers was entertaining too, and it was probably because they could not see the face behind the mask. People tend to fear the unknown, but now that it was Halloween, that was the point of it all. The fire looked nice. There were some things missing though... marshmallows on sticks and ghost stories. The scene then reminded her of Are You Afraid of the Dark? which in all honesty was not frightful to her. Her husband did not like horror or anything scary in general, and she was the exact opposite. Perhaps a kindred spirit existed in this crowd. Caerbannog stood up and made her way to the nearest adventurer: Hodges. “Seen any ghosts this evening?” she asked the assassin. Her tone was a flat as possible but there was no denying her voice, which was rather high-pitched for a “dark knight”.

[Witch]

Halloween in Londin is pretty amazing, Witch thought while strutting down the street. It kind of had a “homey” feeling, not “homey” like England, “homey” like suburban America, where Witch was from. This world was still pretty new to Witch mind you. She hadn’t seen much of the world so far, and had spent the majority of time attempting to get an understanding of how the world worked in reference to the real world. What kind of money was used? Where do you get clothes? How do you make money? All the practical little things that Witch needed to live comfortably in the strange game-world. 

Walking through the decorated streets, Witch noticed a group of adventures relaxing by a camp fire.


I bet they’re telling ghost stories. Even if they aren’t, I’m sure they’ll want to hear one, and even if they don’t, I’ll probably just tell one anyway.


Witch made a “b-line” for the group. She had actually gotten pretty good in heels, which made her wonder if that would transfer back into the real world when he did get back. For Witch, being in the game just meant roleplaying the character he made, Witch, while he, Ethan, waited for all of it to be over. This isn’t to say he wasn’t having fun in the game-world, just that he understood that someday this would have to end. Enough of that though, Witch made it to the fire, and sat down next to a masked Samurai.


“You guys look like you’re having fun.”



Witch positioned herself carefully as she sat.

“Have to be careful with the sitting, don’t want to break a heel or give anyone a free show… haha. Anyway, pretty nice whether this Halloween, no? Oh I’m Witch by the way. Anyone want to hear a story? Good, because I’m going to tell one.”

I know what you’re thinking, Witch is a bit eccentric isn’t she? Ethan would answer yes.

No one here’s going to know any better, let’s just repurpose a Borges story.

“I heard this story in America, where I’m from, from this guy I used to know. A friend of his friend, Jim, lived in this ritzy upscale neighborhood, and there’s a house for sale across the street. So Jim is coming home from work one day, he’s a businessman if anyone cares, and the “for sale” sign is gone. So naturally, Jim notices but doesn’t put much though into it.

A few weeks later he sees cars out in front, so he makes a mental note to go over there and introduce himself when he gets home from work. That night, Jim goes over there and knocks and a butler comes out. A real butler, not like the anime ones, anyone here an anime fan? Well anyway, the butler comes out and says the homeowner is busy, but expresses his thanks for showing up. Jim understands because a lot of people in that neighborhood are pretty busy, it’s why they’re rich to begin with. Jim goes home and doesn’t worry about it.

That night, Jim hears howling coming from the mansion. It sounds somewhere between a coyote and a hyena, but also kind of like a woman crying. Well he’s a little freaked out, so he goes to the window looks across the street and all the lights are off. About a second after he looks, the sound just cuts off like someone hit a stop button. It’s late and Jim’s tired, so he goes back to sleep.

The next day, there’s a construction company outside the house. Even better, they’re blocking his driveway. Jim gets out and asks one of the guys working to move so he can get out. The guy agrees, then offhandedly, Jim asks what’s up with the construction. The guy working tells Jim they’re doing some remolding, but that the stuff the guy living in the house wants done is pretty weird. The guy is about to tell Jim about it, but then stops and says it’s probably confidential and walks off. Jim’s weirded out, but has to get to work. That night, Jim hears the cries again and ignores it. The next night, the same thing. So, this goes on for a week and finally Jim has had enough. He decided he’s going to just walk around the mansion and see what the hell this noise is.

The next night, Jim hears the same thing, he gets up, dresses in black, and goes across the street jumping the fence to get onto the mansion grounds. It’s quiet and Jim’s being careful not to be seen, so he goes around the side of the house. Along the side, he sees a window, it’s open and the breeze is blowing the curtains. All of a sudden, he hears the noise again, it’s faint, but it’s coming from inside. Deciding someone might be in trouble, Jim climbs in through the window. It’s pitch black, and Jim moves silently bumping into the corners of furniture. Taking out his cellphone, he turns it on to flashlight mode and lights up the room. Looking around, he notices the furniture is really weird; tables have jagged edges, and the chairs look like they’re meant for something not human to sit in. Jim figures this was what the construction guy was talking about, and just then, he hears the sound again.

Jim follows the sound through two big double doors into a really tall library. The house had to be four stories, and it seems like this room goes up all four. Jim can’t even see the ceiling, it’s just pitch black, but standing there, he hears the noise coming from above. In front of him, there’s this wooden ladder, like the type you climb to get the really high books, but the ladder just keeps going up.

Jim starts to the climb the ladder, and he’s climbing for minutes then he starts noticing that even when he’s not moving, he can feel the ladder moving, like something is coming up behind him. Jim’s a bit freaked out because what if someone found out he broken in? So Jim starts to climb faster. Problem is, whatever is behind him is climbing faster now too. Even worse, it’s starting to gain on him, he can hear it climbing. Jim is scared now, he climbs as fast as he can but whatever it is, is still behind him. The ladder doesn’t seem like it even has an end and as fast as he’s climbing, it feels like the ladder just goes on into the darkness forever. Finally, exhausted, Jim points his cellphone downward to see what’s coming up after him. First he sees the eyes flash in the darkness, then teeth, then… The end!

What did yall think? Pretty creepy right? Anyone else got a story?"

Witch, confident in her storytelling ability waited for someone to answer.

[Amyas Eoghan Hodges]

Amyas Eoghan Hodges Human Assassin Lv. 1

HP 100% MP 100%

STATUS: None

---

While he was sitting, staring at the fire, he heard the clang of metal armour to his right. Someone new has walked up and sat on the grass. They were wearing black armour, the flames from the fire danced beautifully off the shiny surface of the metal. When the armoured one spoke up, he was surprised to hear a woman's voice. Odd costume for a woman, from what he'd seen here tonight. But, everyone is difference. "Ghosts of the monster variety or those of the superstitious variety?" He chuckled lightly and held his hand over for a handshake if she so chose to return it. "I'm Amyas Hodges. Just call me Amyas." He preferred to not use the HUD to learn this girl's name. Not right now, at least.

Shortly after, another woman walked up and sat beside the armoured woman. Oddly, though, the voice that came from the woman was very clearly masculine. She introduced herself, and Amyas did the same, "I'm Amyas." Offering her the same hand he had offered the armoured woman. Then the newcomer began to tell a ghost story. Is this Halloween the time for scary stories as well?

He listened to her story, trying to imagine it being played out in the world that the adventurers came from from what he was told, ignoring some words he had never heard before. He would have to ask Kitty about those later. When she was done telling her story, he clapped lightly, "that was interesting," he lied. It was full of plot holes. But he didn't want to be rude.

He turned his attention to the fire, "Ahh, so we're taking turns telling stories now? All right. I have one my grandfather told me, it's stuck with me for a long time because it has a good message to it. Once there was a small group of young boys and girls walking down the street on their way home in the afternoon, enjoying mundane talk with one another. Nothing of what they're saying is really important for us to worry about. Anyway, they continued and passed by an old cemetery. One of the boys in the group, a charismatic boy, but not too bright, stopped them and pointed to the grave yard. Let's call him Joel."

"'Everyone, don't ever step on a grave at night in the dark!' He had a particularly bad habit of conjuring up advice and stories to scare the young girls in their friend circle. But his stories only ever scared the youngest of their group, Sarah. 'If you do, the dead guy in the grave will reach up and pull you into the grave with him!'"

"The other girl in their group, Summer, always needed to calm Sarah down and was the only one to confront Joel about his bad habit. The other two in their group, Mason and Evan, couldn't be bothered, but they enjoyed egging on the spat between Joel and Summer when appropriate. 'That's not true, Joel!' Summer said, patting the distressed Sarah on the head."

"Mason spoke up, 'Yeah. That's not true. I heard they kill you first, then pull your body into the grave to replace theirs!'"

"The smile on Joel's face couldn't be wider. All the while Summer was fuming and Sarah was reduced to tears. Evan couldn't stay silent any more, 'That's enough. Here, Sarah, I'll take you home. Let's let these three bicker it out.' As much as he enjoyed watching the two argue, he didn't want Sarah to be in the middle of it crying. He would pull her away from Summer and escort her down the road and out of earshot."

"'Damn it, Joel, stop making stuff up to scare Sarah! And stop encouraging him, Mason!' Summer shouted."

"'But I didn't make it up. I'll tell you what. I'll give you 5 gold if you come out here tonight and stand on a grave!'"

"'Fine, I will! These old graves don't scare me!'"

"'Here, you can borrow my knife. Take it with you and stab it into the grave. That way we'll know you were there in the morning.' Mason said, taking out a simple folding knife and handing it to Summer. She took the knife, and that was it for their challenge for now. They walked home."

"Not wanting to be made a fool of, though. Summer did return to the cemetery that night, knife in hand. She only had the light of the stars to guide her and most of them were covered by clouds. It might as well have been completely black out that night. But she wanted to prove Joel wrong for Sarah. Of course, looking into the grave yard at night was different than during the day. She told herself that there was nothing to be afraid of, but of course she couldn't lie to herself. She was afraid anyway. Afraid of stepping onto this hallowed ground."

"She mustered up the courage to go forward. The sooner she finished this, the sooner she could return home to her bed. She picked out a large grave near the centre path, looked around to make sure she could see where they buried the body, and she stepped onto the plot. Nothing happened. Of course nothing happened, she was the only living thing here. She knelt down on her knees and stabbed the knife into the cold and grassy ground. The knife went in harder than she thought, so she pushed harder and harder until it felt like it was stuck. She was satisfied, so she stood up and started to leave."

"But, she couldn't leave. She felt like something was pulling on her, but she felt nothing on her legs or body. She tugged away again, she still couldn't move! Something was holding her back onto the grave. She started to panic. She tried a third time, but this time she fell over and onto the ground. She struggled and screamed, but she couldn't break free. Her heart raced, she grabbed at the grass and yelled, cried. She couldn't see anything, or feel anything, but she knew something was there, pulling her. Terror filled her completely."

"Early that morning, the group of four visited Summer's house to get her to go with them to visit the cemetery, to see if she had really gone through with it or not. Her father and mother were not at the house. Several adults were searching yards and fields nearby, adults from the nearby town. The group rushed to the cemetery and were not prepared for what they were about to see. There, sprawled out on the grass, face down and fingers covered in dirt from digging into the ground, was the body of Summer. She was pinned to the grave by the very knife she had stabbed into the dirt. She had unknowingly stabbed through her nightgown. She had died, right there, of fright."

He turned his attention away from the fire and toward the two women to his right, the one obviously he couldn't gauge her reaction to the story because of the mask. "Sorry it didn't have any ghosts in it. I enjoy stories that play with the human psyche like that. That one in particular, a little message to not panic or something so trivial like that could be the death of you."

---

Skills Used: n/a

Tags: @dindeen

NOTES: N/A

[Witch]

Witch listened intently to Amya's story. She felt like she may have heard the story out of Goosebumps, but it had been so long since she read anything by R.L. Stein she couldn't be sure. Regardless, this was all in the name of fun and flashing a smile she clapped.

"A scary story with some meaning, huh? A "scarable parable" if you will. Hah! Punny huh? Booya! Two in a row! In all seriousness though, that was a fun story. I've often found that knives are fairly dangerous, which is why I use magic books and flying crystal orbs. One time I was cleaning dishes in my apartment, and I had forgotten that I left a knife in there. I couldn't see the knife because I filled my sink with water and soap to let my dishes soak in there for a while. That's a trick I learned working as a cook in a restaurant in my early twenties. Good thing to know if you ever have to wash dishes, but I digress, So I'm grabbing through the water and SLICE! right through my finger. It was like someone turned on the shower, except instead of water... blood. Think Kill Bill blood and you're on the right track. I wrapped my finger in a towel, and it just kept bleeding through. Hurt like a mother to... I Had to go to the hospital because it wouldn't stop bleeding. Eventually they closed it up, no stitches though. I called a pre-med girl I knew before I left and she didn't even know what to tell me. Lord have mercy I hope she's not a doctor now... that would be a real horror story, let me tell you... I'm rambling. Anyway, did anyone else have a frightening fable or maybe a devilish drama? a murderous myth? A spine-chilling spiel? A macabre memoir? Sorry, hard to stop the Union Puncific Railroad once it gets going. I'll stop."

[Shiranui]

[attr="class","shiramain"]

Level 14 Summoner Tailor Dancer [attr="class","shirabar g"] [attr="class","shirabar b"]

[attr="class","texuto"]As Shira left the Purple Mansion, he put on a generic cloak to hide the costume that Capsule stuffed him in. A voluptuous nine-tailed fox demon lady was not something he had in mind for Halloween. He was scared and wanted to find somewhere to take refuge in that wasn’t a big spooky haunted mansion. He felt like he was in shock when the Half-Alv Enchanter just… left. The fox’s tails drooped uncharacteristically low as he made his way back to London. It became apparent that he was going to be responsible for Avarice now, but to go home to a place where there was nobody there to make it feel like home was kind of depressing. The Adventurers in London are all up for the Halloween festivities. The Landers, clueless but curious at the same time. The thought of food and candy made him notice that his stomach’s been grumbling all this time. Luckily, there was an adventurer-owned stall that conveniently sold candied apples. Shira bought one and continued walking around. It was then that he received a message from the stray puppy, Aura, who he brought into the guild house under people’s noses: “Having a lady friend over. Don’t go through the front door, milady.” What followed was two excited giggles and rustling noises that Shira did not want to dwell too much on. While he was strolling by, he overheard a few people exchanging rattling stories over a bonfire. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop but the curiosity in him wanted to know how it ended. He hid behind a tree and just listened. Shira didn’t know any of them so walking in and just joining out of the blue sounded pretty awkward. Especially, when he was very conscious of his attire. There was also the rule he set for himself: Never look at stranger’s information without permission. Having your name out in the open like that was not something he knows other people would want and so, he would courteously just ask for their name instead. One of them had a mask on, as well. Spooky. Shira listened intently at the fedora man’s suspenseful tale. After spending the night under the ambiance of a legitimate haunted mansion, the story didn’t really scare him that much though it was still interesting. As he listened, his tails bobbed through the air like a ghost, completely beyond the tree trunk’s reach. The moon glinted off of his silver-haired tails, as well, making it look like a fluffy ethereal hydra.

[attr="class","notes words"] 419 [attr="class","tags"]@ people

[attr="class","notes words2"] bleh [attr="class","tags3"] Fox ears

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[Deleted]

1820 words HP 100%		Pet: none MP 100%
Caerbannog’s blue eyes shone brightly at the prospect of hearing ghost stories. She put her arms around her knees as the other adventurer began to tell a story about some guy and his neighbor’s house. By the end of the story, it was apparent that it was meant to be a jumpscare but such things rarely worked with words. But anything in the genre of horror interested Caer, some less so than others; it was a difficult genre to find good stories for. The assassin then told an entirely different type of ghost story. There was a lesson to be learned at the end, but what made the samurai listen intently was the mysterious “force” that stopped the victim. It reminded her of her own night terrors, and her recent encounter at Tomie’s Sushiria. After all was said and done, the black-attired samurai raised her hand to draw attention to herself. She then breathed in deeply and prepared herself for some story-telling, for Caerbannog rarely ever spoke: His body felt heavy and his eyes were shut so tightly that all he could see was darkness. He felt something cold beneath him and when he opened his eyes, a most frightening sight greeted him... a cockroach, with its antennae twitching at his nose. He was fixated on the insect for a while, in part because it seemed so courageous but mostly because he could not move. He was weak and dead tired, as if he’d been working all day. But he knew that he wasn’t. Rather, he’d been out cold for the longest time. The cockroach finally ran away when he sighed, and so the man was finally rid of the evil six-legged creature. And yet, there were more pressing matters at hand. He managed to sit up straight and inspect him: no weapons, no food or water, no flashlight or radio... there was nothing on his save for the clothes on his back. And his face. That was important. His face made him who he was. The man rubbed his chin; there was stubble there. Maybe he should look for a mirror and a razor. But more importantly, he had to get out of the room with grey walls that contained him. He looked around. There was nothing but the walls on all sides and his own body in the middle of the room... and directly in front of him, there was a lone white-washed door upon an otherwise blank grey wall. Though weak and unarmed, he mustered up the strength and courage to open that door. Why? Because he needed answers. The man tried to remember what had happened to him and why he was in an empty room, but no matter how much he tried, he could not remember anything. Not where he was, not why he was there... not even his own name. So right then and there, he decided that he would go through that door to look for answers. While it did occur to him that he could have been kidnapped and there could be some dangerous men outside, he decided to risk it. If he stayed in the room, he would eventually die of dehydration or starvation; at least, if he stepped out of the room, he would have a chance to survive. That was what he thought, and so the man turned the knob on the door. It was not locked. Good. Or so he thought. As soon as he opened the door, a narrow hallway greeted him. At first glance, it seemed harmless enough but when he stepped out of the room and into the hallway, a primitive feeling rose up in his gut. There was only one word for it. Fear. He did not know why, there was no explanation. But it was as if every fibre of his being wanted him to just go back into the room and stay out of the hallway. But as he turned around, it was too late. The door slammed shut behind him and there was nowhere to go but forward. Right in front of him, at what seemed to be the end of the hallway, there was a window. That, to the man, was a beacon of hope. He treaded carefully lest there were traps on the floor or walls, but there were none so far. The man pulled up his jacket tightly around his body. He felt cold for some reason but there seemed to be no draft in the house... was it a house? It seemed to be. Upon the walls, there were many picture frames but most of them were either empty or defaced. He could make out the figure of what seemed to be a man and a woman, but no more than that. Eleven o’clock and fifty minutes. That was the time on the digital clock on a small side table. Scattered at the table’s feet, there were newspaper clippings. He would have checked those out if he was not in such a hurry to get out of the place. The man’s pace quickened as he came close to the window; he pushed aside the drapes... only to find steel bars that prevented his escape. He looked to his right, having felt a presence there for a mere moment but when he looked, there was only the rest of the narrow hallway. Along the wall to his left, there was a space that he could only guess would have the front door. But if he really had been abducted, then the front door would not be open, right? There was no harm in trying, he thought. As he walked towards the front door, he noticed a door to his right but it was tightly locked when he tried to turn the knob. There were some sounds coming from within... was that the bathroom? Whatever happened in there was none of his business, so he went on his way. As soon as he got close to the front door though, an old radio suddenly began to play some annoying music. He wanted to turn the thing off but there was no ON/OFF switch. Why did he get sidetracked by that? The man put the radio down on the table where he found it, close to some more picture frames. He then turned towards the front door... and as he expected, it was locked. If he was any stronger then he could have broken it down, but his body was weak and only his mind and spirit prevailed, so thought to look for some tools to open the door with. As he looked farther down the hall, the man found just the thing: a basement. So far he had not encountered anyone else in the house, though he still had the gut feeling that he was being watched and that he was doomed. Logical prevailed, and so the man headed down the narrow stairs towards the basement. To his disappointment, the basement was empty save for yet another door up ahead. Weird. What’s up with all the doors? Maybe this door was open, or so he thought. Ever curious and courageous, the man opened that door in the basement and just beyond it, he noticed the familiar grey walls and... wait, was that the same hallway that he just passed? In his curiosity and unawareness, he had stepped through the basement door and when he turned to look up the way from where he came, there was nothing but a big, blank grey wall. The basement door was gone and the man realized where he was. He had found himself back to square one. A slight feeling of panic rose up in his chest. How could he have gotten back into the room where there was no other door there save for the white-washed one? The man walked faster now, down the hall again to see if it really was the same place that he had just walked through. The picture frames were there and pretty much the same, except for the fact that some of them had better detail now. And then there was the digital clock. Instead of fifty, it displayed fifty-five. Only that much time had passed and yet he felt as if he’d been walking down the hallway forever. The horrible feeling in his gut grew and each step on the cold floor became faster than before. From the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a shadow but when he turned to look behind him, only the closed white-washed door was there. Once again he walked to the window; it pretty much seemed the same to him except for the face other than his own. Shocked, he turned around once again but there was nothing in the hallway. A slow creak then grabbed the man’s attention. The door on the wall close to the window was now open. It seemed like a closet and there came a crying sound from within. The man, curious to know if there was another victim like himself in the house, carefully pushed the door open and a rather normal-looking bathroom was revealed to him. It was well-lit and like any other bathroom, except for the pulsating, bloody object in the sink. The crying sound came from it but, disgusted, the man turned away from the sink and walked out of the bathroom. The reflection of an enraged woman was momentarily reflected on the mirror above the sink, but the man had already walked back out onto the hallway and closed the bathroom door behind him. The lights flickered as he came close to the front door. The annoying radio which used to play music now only had static. The cries from the bathroom became even louder than before and the man held his hands up to his ears. He wanted it to stop! But there was no way out; the front door was still locked. Desperate, he ran down the basement once again, opened the door and… …he found himself in the grey-walled room once more. The white-washed door was there, and although he did not want to open it anymore, he thought that hey, how much worse could it get? Much worse, apparently. When the door flung open, the man stepped into the same hallway yet something was obviously different. The flickering white lighting no longer flickered, and it was no longer white. The narrow hallway was flooded with red light; so red that it gave him a headache. The man walked on and eventually he noticed the digital clock. It now read exactly twelve o’ clock. As if in a trance, he walked towards the window just as before and on the glass, he saw a reflection that was not his own. Not expecting to see anything behind him, just like what happened before, the man turned to look… and what did he see? And then he blacked out.
OOC: Your character may describe what the guy "saw" as you see fit.

[Witch]

"Very cool! That one kind of reminded me of The Shining!"

Eyeing the people sitting around the fire, Witch couldn't help but feel like this was a strange sort of environment. Not strange in that they were inside a game, admittingly that was also fairly strange, but strange in how this group just culminated together. In the real world, would something like this have ever happened? Would people come together off the street to share stories? Probably not, though the one place Witch could think of where occurrences liked this still occur was with the homeless. Witch couldn't help but think of the irony in the similarities between the adventurers of this world, and the homeless of the real one. Both groups stalk through foreign cities, often looking for place or friendship. Funds come from whatever means the individual can accomplish, either through odd jobs or mercenary work.

We're all just trying to find our place. Some of us, like me, temporarily until this dream ends. Some looking for something more permanent I imagine; a place to replace what home they had. What type of person does it take to prefer the game world to the real? Was the real so bad for them that this is a viable alternative? Or are some of these people too young to see anything past an adventure? I can't believe that this will last forever, but how many people actually want that?

Witch eyes those around her trying to pick up personality cues from dress and sitting position, an art she had been taught in a sociolinguistics course that though interesting, she had little time to delve deeply into that year. 

More so than than the world, the people imprisoned in said world are so strange. Masks of themselves hiding their origins... "Lost Boys" whisked away to Neverland...

Witch continued to listen to see if there was another story to be told.

[Witch]

Well, it looks like that's it then...

"I guess no one has another one? Well alright then. Thanks for the stories! This was pretty fun, maybe we can do it again sometime. If you guys ever need an enchanter be sure to give me a shout. I'm Witch in case anyone forgot. See you guys around!"

With that, Witch left. The stories had been bland, but the people interesting, maybe even friendly. As Witch got up she dusted herself and get her feet under her. Flashing a smile, and throwing an easy wave, Witch walked off debating on trying to kill some monsters, or just continuing her exploration of the city.