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Private What fresh hell is this?

Discussion in 'Morhall' started by Newt, Jan 29, 2018.

  1. Newt

    Newt Guest

    Date-10th January, year 7
    Tags- @Gerold Hirschberg

    All was quiet in the room they'd been locked in, Minho and Thomas having drifted off hours ago but the blonde teenager had found himself quiet unable to sleep. Stuck in this tiny room with its narrow bunks, he felt caged, waiting for the hangman to come take him too his noose and his brown eyes traced over his sleeping friends at the thought, wondering if they felt it too. He turned away, allowing his long, blonde hair to fall across his face, hiding it from view and he tried to stop himself from thinking because if he did he'd end up thinking about the news from earlier in the day, the news concerning what he was. He shifted in the seat, knowing he should head to one of the bunks and try to sleep, but finding he was afraid of what sleep might bring and so Newt remained where he was on the uncomfortable chair, staring into the darkness.

    The room only seemed to grow darker with time, but there was no way that was possible not when there was not natural light source other than the light they had turned off earlier. He blamed it on his own thoughts, darkening his view and managing to escape where he was trying to lock them, again he shifted his gaze falling on Thomas was he wondered at the other boy's desire to stay close to him even now he knew that he was not immune, that he was going to slowly turn into a monster and suddenly he realised he did not want his friend to see that or experience it. Once they were out he had to shake him off, him and Minho so that they did not have to suffer alongside him. It was with that thought that he began to grow drowsy at last, too drowsy to climb into the bunk he was meant to sleep in and so he fell asleep in his chair, head lolling to the side.

    It didn't feel like a deep sleep, until he found himself waking due to a chill in the air, blinking the sleep from his eyes it took him a moment to realise the world around him was far to vast and far to white. His eyes widened and he was scrambling to his feet, kicking up white powdery snow as he did so. His hands were shaking and rising to his face as Newt found himself murmuring"No, no, no!" He was spinning on the spot, hands on his face, covering his nose and mouth as he took in his surroundings noting he was on a sloping snowy wilderness. Then he was muttering to himself"This has to be a trick... This has to be another of their experiments... They must of got us while we were asleep... I need to be calm, I need to think... I need.." He drifted off mid murmur as his brown gaze fixed on movement not far from him and instinctively he froze wondering what fresh hell he was about to face now.
     
    Gerold Hirschberg likes this.