viewing life in 4:3;

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already terrified by the sound outside and then subsequently running into someone in the corridor– getting hit with a book frightened him even further. he had already jumped back when he’d run into them but he did it again when he was hit, hitting his back against the door frame behind. “ ow, jesus, ” he hissed, reaching over his shoulder to try and alleviate some of the pain from his back. as she realised who he was, he realised who she was. of course it was his sister that was trying to beat him up with a textbook. a textbook that narrowly missed his feet for the record. “ are you sure? because you managed to hit me pretty spot on– the fuck even book is that? it? ” he asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice as he kicked the book on the floor and tilted his head to try and get a better look. whatever, he decided after a second, looking back up but still holding his shoulder. “ did you hear that sound outside too? ” he asked, assuming that was why she was also in the hallway “ sounded like– well, i don’t know, it sounded like something. ”

Casey was trying really, really hard not to outwardly laugh once she realized that she hadn’t given her brother permanent brain damage. At least as far as she could tell he didn’t have any more brain damage than he had had before her arrival that evening. “I didn’t realize it was you,” she insisted confidently. She had known it was somebody, a figure, an antagonist- what she hadn’t realized that it was somebody not worth being terrified by, even for a moment, let alone striking defensively for any reason. “Hey-” she chastised as he kicked her book, “Chem 1B, leave it alone,” she instructed, scooping it up as if it was fragile and prone to breakage from his foot, rather than being bashed over Conny’s back just moment’s before. “Yeah, I heard something, a spooky something- or maybe not a spooky something but a mysterious something and a spooky mystery for fuckin’ sure,” she assured him, speaking a language common only to Casey Roberts. “Wanna go check it out? If we get caught we can just say we thought it was God with a message for us,”

“ an ant-man t- shirt. ”   her repetition is followed by a shit-eating grin.    “ of all of the marvel characters ,  you just said fuck you to deadpool and went to ant- man ?  ”   her tone is teasing more than anything , not knowing enough about the film to have a witty insult at-hand.

her facade quickly wrinkles to disgust when the briefs are held up for her.    “ wow , for me ?  how sweet .  ”      drawn-out  ,    sardonic .      cath was refusing to touch them  ,   only made evident by the way she immediately stepped backwards to avoid an interaction .      “ i’m honored ,  like ,  this is better than the shit oprah gives out but  i can’t ,  in good conscious ,  steal these from their rightful owner .   swear to god there’s some kid running around looking for these right now. ”

“Yeah, yeah, soak it up, get all you can out of it- I got it from a thrift store, I couldn’t resist, okay?” she confessed with less reluctance than she professed. Truth be told, she thought the shirt was kind of cool in an ironically uncool way- whatever, it was hard to explain to normies. Not that Catty was strictly a normie, she supposed, she had her moments.

Location: Senior Cabin Plot Opportunity: 001 

@ba-central​

everything about the retreat was fucking weird, connor was starting to accept that. there was something about it that made it feel like his heart was permanently in his throat. and he couldn’t decide whether that something was something explainable like being in a new weird location in even closer proximity to people who said rude things about him and his friends. or if it was something less explainable like supernatural entities fucking with them, or plain old nature getting revenge for whatever happened in the woods that made it feel so creepy all the time.

the recent ransacking of belongings didn’t help. again it could be people– assholes fucking with everyone, but what would an asshole want with his shitty digital recorder that he’d bought for like five dollars at a thrift shop. or his casey’s ant man shirt. or a postcard, a pair of socks, a shoe, a pair of sunglasses, or any of the other things he’d heard people were missing since that day. what also didn’t help was the clatter that disturbed his sorting through files on his laptop in the middle of the night. he jumped, surprised by the sound, pulling his headphones from his ears by their cord. he sat still for a second, a split second before he scrambled from his bed to basically press his nose against the window. looking in the direction he thought he’d heard the noise from he didn’t see anything, but he was sure he had heard something. 

barefoot, and dressed in his pyjamas ( black sweatpants and a star wars shirt ) he backed away from the window, turned and made his way into the hallway. quickly, he wanted to see whatever had made the sound– he wanted to see what it was before it ran off so he could clear his mind of the thought that he was five minutes away from being in his very own poltergeist film. but with that intention, he was moving too quickly and ran directly into someone as he stepped out of his room. “ shit– sorry, ” he quickly apologised, almost backing into a wall in the process. he kept his voice low, last time he’d checked the time it’d been like three am. “ did you hear that noise outside too? ” maybe he wasn’t being haunted maybe he was just hearing things. “ just before, ” he clarified, “ i swear i heard– i don’t know, a crash or something. ”

Casey had seen enough horror movies in her relatively short lifetime to be keenly aware that you couldn’t just follow the source of spooky noises in the night without arming yourself. As such, she’d picked up a rather hefty chemistry text book to use, just in case anybody happened to come at her with a weapon or perhaps any questions about titration.

She was already on edge at the Retreat, her anxiety multiplied to an immeasurable degree by the fact that something or someone had woken her up in the middle of the night so when her body collided with somebody else’s, she assumed she was under attack and struck back immediately.

 “Oh my God, Connor,” she uttered dropping the text book to the floor the moment she realized that it was her own brother she’d battered with it. “Holy dicks, I didn’t see you,” not that that was an apology, though it was meant to have the same sort of effect or something like it anyway.

ba-central

It wasn’t funny. Well, maybe it was a little funny.

At least he thought it was, sure the place was a complete mess, there was truly no other way to describe it. There wasn’t a single room that hadn’t been completely turned upside down, not a single inch of grass that wasn’t now housing a bag or item of clothing. He laughed, he couldn’t help it, the minute he stepped off the bus and laid eyes the Retreat he started laughing. 

His bag had been dropped outside near a tree, he was anything but organized, he hadn’t really bothered in folding his clothes when packing more than he had just shoved a bunch of things together and called it a day — but even among chaos there was order, and this was not what his bag looked like on a regular day. It a mess, a complete mess. He took the time to go through everything, but nothing was seemed to be missing. This was a next level prank, and he wanted to desperately to meet them. 

As he watched the other students around him go through their things, and help put the place back in order he flipped through the pages of one of his books, more out of a habbit than anything else. It was then that he noticed the dedication page was gone. What? Milo had a habit of ripping pages off books to use for decoration but he would’ve never taken out that particular page. He bought that book at a dollar store only for the dedication. It read: ‘to my bruce, who was the best person i ever knew, even though he was a dog.’ It made him laugh so he bought it, without even reading the summary at the back. 

“Who do you think did this?” He asked to no one in particular as he took in what used to be the Retreat but was now just a complete mess. He couldn’t help the smile the grew on the edges of his lips. He wished he had come up with a prank like this himself. “This is some next level shit. I’m impressed.” 

Casey had been thinking about the circumstances and the people involved in them that had resulted in such complete and utter disarray at the Retreat. She’d been thinking about it a lot but she was yet to come up with any sort of conclusion that anybody else, aside from maybe Conny and Ezra, would consider reasonable.

“That’s a million-dollar question, isn’t it?” her tone of voice was already laced with the biting intrigue that made it clear to anybody that knew her well that she was ready to dive headfirst into a full-blown conspiracy. “At first I figured it must have been the jocks- they’ve got the strength and the agility and most of all, the motivation to fuck with everybody because they think- for some unknown reason- that it’s the epitome of humour,” she didn’t think there was anything funny about hip checking somebody in the hallway or throwing their backpack into a tree but alas, she was outnumbered by the school bullies who found it hilarious, especially when she was their victim. “-but then I thought about it a little more. No way somebody loud and obnoxious would be able to slip out of class unnoticed for as long as it would take to go through all of our shit,” she reasoned, thinking it was a pretty keen observation on her part. “So it had to be somebody off the radar, the person you’d least expect to do this kinda thing- somebody so minor that you wouldn’t even think anything of it if their desk was empty, even if you sit right next to ‘em,” she was spiraling now, dangerously close to suggesting that it might have been a supernatural event. “-but that begs more questions than it answers, right? Why would somebody who never even makes a peep in class decide to do something like this? Who was supposed to be the target? It can’t be all of us, most of us have nothing in common. It’s gotta be meant for somebody and the rest of us are just collateral,”

“You mean like them dancing themselves into the lake and possibly drowning?” Milo thought about that for a second before a smile formed on his lips. “All we can hope for is we get a front row seat.” That might just be thing to make his day, but she was right. It felt like was only a matter of time before someone did something that got them kicked out of the Retreat. The idea of a bunch of teens in the middle of the woods with no wifi was probably something they should’ve thought about before sending them there. “Yeah, I hear you there. Real question is who do you think will be the first one to break without wifi or signal? My guess is Damian.”

“That’s literally exactly the kind of shit that I mean and the combined ridiculousness and likelihood of that actually happening is overwhelming,” she noted, perhaps a little enthusiastically. Not that the tragic drowning of a couple of annoying juniors would be funny in any way but she decided it was fair to crack a smile when they were talking strictly in hypotheticals.

She hummed thoughtfully, trying to make her mind up about who was most likely to lose their freakin’ mind over a lack of 4G signal out here. “I did hear him muttering something about not being able to check his school emails earlier,” she confessed, “Which I have alternatively been using as an excuse not to communicate with my teachers outside of class,” she thought it was one of the few benefits of the Retreat.

“You and me both, I like to think we’re close friends.” He said with a smug smile. He heard some people coming their way and stuck his head out the window to get a better look. False alarm, Sister Michael was nowhere in sight. 

“If I’m being honest, I haven’t the faintest idea.” The moment they arrived at the Retreat the first thing Milo had done, after trying to take in the sight of the place, was ask around how he was sharing rooms with, Sister Michael said a bunch of names but none of them really stayed with him, the only thing he took out of it was that Lucy wouldn’t be there. Part of him hoped they would be going back to the academy in no time, but something told him that might not happen any time soon. “Do you think we’ll be stuck here long?”

“Dude, I wish I knew the answer,” she lamented with somewhat of a sigh, “-but do I think we’re gonna be here long?” she repeated, circling back to the question he’d actually asked her, “I think somebody’s going to throw a shit fit or go balls to the wall nutso and get all of our asses hauled out of here eventually. Like, how long can it possibly be before Gwen starts screaming on the roof of the senior cabin about criminal liability or, I don’t know, how long before the juniors TikTok themselves into a brutal accident and need to get airlifted to the nearest hospital?” maybe her examples were a little extreme but she felt like she was onto something there. “I’m just saying, I don’t think it’s gonna be that long before we start seeing cracks in the damn, you feel me?”

“I can’t say I am either,” Frankie said honestly. He would much rather a proper building, complete with reliable running water and heat. He didn’t feel like it was asking too much for those basic necessities, especially from Broadripple, but apparently it was. It was difficult to even pretend to be optimistic given how grim their future looked. “Perhaps they’re trying to teach us something,” he suggested, although he couldn’t think what. He got the feeling he’d be spending a lot more time around campus than he usually would. He wasn’t one to badmouth his superiors but it was difficult not to when they had been shoved somewhere so dire. He sighed, “No, I’m afraid you’re right… but what can we do about it?” He didn’t like resigning but he would just have to. Unless Casey had another idea that he could take credit for, he wasn’t above that. 

“No kidding?” she teased with a chuckle, though she didn’t mean anything by it. Frankie didn’t seem like the outdoorsy type by any stretch of the imagination and she assumed she appeared the same way to others. There was nothing wrong with that, she would argue, they had their strengths elsewhere. “Solidarity? How to get sunburned? Teamwork but with mosquitos?” she suggested, barely drawing breath as she listed her sarcastic ideas off one by one. She didn’t know what the apparent lesson would be, though she was starting to appreciate her dorm a whole hell of a lot more than she ever had before. “Nothing more than bitch about it, I guess. What can kids do about anything that happens? We’re just along for the ride,” she noted, perhaps a little bleakly. 

“Maybe our parents signed us up for some kind of social experiment- like they’re getting a government kick-back while some dudes in labcoats somewhere sit around and wait for us to Lord of the Flies each other. Who are you putting your money on if we go Hunger Games out here?”

Frankie had stopped to assess his surroundings. He liked to know where he was, and the quickest way to get out if need be. He glanced over to Casey when she spoke and had to agree. “I think this is their idea of a practical joke. I’m sure they will find something more suitable within the week,” he said with a fake confidence that wasn’t very convincing at all. “For now we have a lovely view of…” he looked around for some inspiration. There was absolutely nothing lovely about the view. “The river,” he decided, motioning in the direction of the bridge. “That’s not too bad,” he added, again, unconvincingly. 

She followed Frankie’s line of sight until her gaze found the river, the ‘not too bad’ river, apparently. “It’s not too great,” she said to count his comment, adopting the role of pessimist though she rarely did. “I don’t know- some folk are all about it but I’m not really the outdoorsy type,” which was obvious to anybody that knew Casey Roberts, “-and I can’t help but think they could have at least tried to find a spot that looked less like it has a spooky kooky back-story about a kid that drowned here or a pedophile that was burned alive here or a guy who tried to kill his whole family and then hid in the woods or something,” maybe that was all a little specific and perhaps a little too graphic as well but she’d already said it, it was too late to take back now, “Just seems like they didn’t really try too hard,” 

“You and me both, I like to think we’re close friends.” He said with a smug smile. He heard some people coming their way and stuck his head out the window to get a better look. False alarm, Sister Michael was nowhere in sight. 

“If I’m being honest, I haven’t the faintest idea.” The moment they arrived at the Retreat the first thing Milo had done, after trying to take in the sight of the place, was ask around how he was sharing rooms with, Sister Michael said a bunch of names but none of them really stayed with him, the only thing he took out of it was that Lucy wouldn’t be there. Part of him hoped they would be going back to the academy in no time, but something told him that might not happen any time soon. “Do you think we’ll be stuck here long?”

Casey felt a spike in her anxiety when Milo flung his head out the window, though it relaxed the moment he did, apparently, there was no reason to be alarmed.

She shrugged her shoulders casually, “Hard to say,” she admitted openly, “Honestly didn’t think we’d be here at all so who am I to take guesses?” she revealed candidly. In fact, her whole experience at Broadripple Academy thus far had been out of the ordinary and she’d given up on trying to predict what was coming next for her and her friends. “It’ll make a pretty good story though one day, don’t you think?” there was comfort in that, she thought and she’d taken the same approach the day her old school bully had shoved her head into a toilet at a house party.

    Gwen’s eyesight flew straight over the top of Casey’s head in blatant confusion for who was speaking to her, before they darted back to the girl, realizing who it was. Ew, was Gwen’s first instinctual thought. Not because of anything to really do with the Roberts twin herself, except that she was weirdly chirpy and not at all the kind of thing you wanted to deal with before a caffeine fix. But mostly because of her brother Connor and his weird fascination with being nice to Gwen came to mind a bit like a bad memory. It was like nobody had ever introduced them to the food chain in society. Whatever. Not her circus, not her monkeys, she reminded herself.

    Nevermind. Not her monkeys but apparently her circus. Gwen watched the girl jerk an elbow in her direction, only to react to negative space and pull it back with little to no coverup. Could this day get any worse? Probably not. Gwen sighed out in annoyance. “We’re not friends, that’s not —” She was shaking her head at Casey, looking at her with some kind of pity reserved for those lower than you at the table. Still, the no end to her sentence made Gwen feel like her point was made. Don’t be like that, it’s weird, you’re weird. “Here.” She flung the paper towards Casey instead, begging some force of nature to take her out in the next few hours before lights out if this was what she’d have to put up with on top of Damian for the next few weeks. 

    Then, an idea tweaked. Call her a scoundrel, but if Casey and her were going to have anything to do with each other in the next few weeks, Gwen figured it might as well be to her own advantage. “But… you can do… one thing for me, though,” Gwen suggested with a sigh of regret, wishing she didn’t have to but alas, here they were. “Can you just… like… warn me if Fitzgerald is in? I’m in no mood to be around his moronic ass right now and I could really do with the heads up.”

“Yet,” Casey added and by the time the word had already left her lips, she realized that she wasn’t sure why the fuck she had said that. What on God’s sweet earth had possessed her to be so optimistic about a budding friendship with Gwen Prescott? There was no logic to it and truth be told, she didn’t even really want to be friends with Gwen. The only benefit of something like that, she thought, would be a slight reduction in the chances that Casey would die at Gwen’s hand.

She accepted the information sheet, expecting that to prompt a swift end to their interaction but much to Casey’s surprise, Gwen had more to say for herself. She listened with morbid intrigue, like somebody who slowed down to see what was going on at the scene of a road traffic accident. “Sure- what is it?” she confirmed, signing her life away before she even knew what she was agreeing to. “Oh yeah, no problemo- no, I totally get it, I’m with you on that,” she assured the other girl, “-and you can do the same for me,” she insisted, “We can be like a team- like each other’s lookouts, I don’t want the boys to walk in all willy-nilly and see my hooters either. It’s kind of weird rooming with them,” she was carrying the conversation all on her own, whether Gwen was an active party to it or not, “- but just Damian? Not Max? Is Max gay or something?” 

“Ha!” Milo laughed, once, before it was followed by a genuine one. “I’m pretty sure the Devil himself had nightmares about Gwen Prescott.” He took one leg out the window and began slowly, swinging it back and forth. “I’d advice, however, don’t try and pull her out of one your nightmares. I don’t know about you but, I don’t want to see what a world with two of them would look like.” 

“I like to think that’s not the only thing I have in common with the Devil,” she mused with a dumb smile on her face, it was nice to joke about Gwen when she wasn’t around, mostly because Casey liked her head on her shoulders, un-punched. She watched Milo shift and raised her eyebrows, wondering if Sister Michael was going to appear out of thin air and yell at him for being reckless. “I think that would result in some sort of wormhole forming in the middle of the campsite and sucking us all into some sort of spaceless, timeless dimension,” she imagined it like something out of a Lovecraftian novella but worse because her classmates would be there. She tried not to think about it for too long, “Who else is in here?” she asked, she recognized Ezra’s things, she assumed Milo was in that room because why the hell else would he be there, she knew her brother was in room 3 but she didn’t know who else was staying with the boys of room 2.

“That’s the kind of stuff that’s going to keep me up all freaking night,” Wendy said, jabbing a thumb over her shoulder toward the direction of the noise. She peeked over again in time to see a chipmunk titter its way across the grass, stopping short to make eye contact with them, then take off in a sprint up the wall of the Junior cabin only to mysteriously disappear when it reached the top. Wendy made a noise in the back of her throat. “Did you see that? They probably have a colony in the roof. They’re just gonna be chittering and scurrying and — pooping up there.”

She had never considered herself much of a priss before, as if she were unable to get a handle on nature, but she was feeling particularly pouty about the situation. What she needed was something good to fixate on, something idyllic and romantic to run with. Something like… the way the sunlight peeked warmly through the leaves, overlapping one another to create varying shades of green. It almost looked like a stained glass canopy, if she let her vision lose a little focus. She inhaled deeply. The whole place smelled damp and earthy. Abruptly, she asked: “How far into the woods are we allowed to go, you think? Did Sister Michael say anything?”

Wendy wrinkled up her nose, the image of herself as a scarecow uncomfortably reminiscent of that Scary Stories to Tell in The Dark movie her little cousin dragged her to last summer, but the image was quickly replaced as Casey continued. First with the unenviable mental picture of Casey having to room with Gwen Prescott, resident snob and a half but luckily unaware of Wendy’s existence, and then with the theatrics of Casey’s funeral. Though a generally somber thought, Wendy smiled at the mention of the gas station glasses. “I was really gunning for you to leave those to me in your will, but — I will respect your wishes. Down into the crypt they’ll go,” she drew an X over her heart with her finger. “You have my word as a friend, scholar, humanitarian, et cetera. Any other requests? It’s our first night but from what I can tell Gwen seems pretty goal-oriented. She may not put off your assassination for very long.”

“Holy shit, that thing just looked directly into my soul, I felt it,” maybe she felt the chipmunk staring into her soul, maybe she was feeling murmurs of impending heatstroke paired with a little bit of gassiness from eating two nacho Slim Jims on the bus to the Retreat. 

She frowned at the thought of literally anything pooping in the roof. She wasn’t quite sure why that had managed to resonate with her on such a profound level but it had. “At least it’s small poops” she suggested, something like a silver lining if there was such a thing in this situation.

She looked over her shoulder to observe the thicket more intently, thinking about Wendy’s question and attempting to be practical about it, despite the fact that the phrase ‘small poops’ was still sort of echoing in her head. “I don’t think we’re supposed to really go in it at all so it’s like anybody’s guess,” she shrugged her shoulders, “As far as you can go without getting lost or murked or both, probably,” she offered. “When people ran away from Jonestown, a whole bunch of them just died because the jungle was so thick they couldn’t see the sun and when you can’t see the sun, you don’t know which way you’re facing and just get totally disoriented,” she said all in one breath, “It’s like a cabin fever type thing or you know what happened to those Dyatlov kids? You just get so confused that you kinda lose your shit until you die,” but that probably wouldn’t happen to them, maybe.

“I’ll be dead, dig me up and pry them from my hands- which will be in finger gun position, for the record,” she assured Wendy. She rest her elbows on the table and tucked her hands under her chin, thinking about any additions to her questions, “Obviously you have to avenge me,” duh. 

In the daylight, the campsite didn’t look—too bad, granted Wendy didn’t get a close look at the amenities yet. But there were amenities and Wendy was pretty sure Thoreau had to piss in the woods when he didn’t seek refuge with his old pal Emerson, so she could give that big-ups. “The Catholic Church spends way more time protesting horror movies than they do actually watching them. The notion of art imitating real life is totally lost on them unless it involves Jesus looking all ripped and bloody, and these vibes are mimesis as hell,” Wendy sighed, too bummed to even thoroughly enjoy the fact that she had actually used one of the rando PSAT words she had been made to study. Her gaze quickly cutting over her shoulder at the sound of a snapping twig. Leaves rustled in the sound’s wake. A squirrel? Maybe a rabbit? She hoped it was a rabbit. At least they were cute. She wrapped her arms around herself, the creases of her elbows sticky with a sheen of sweat. “Ugh, I just realized something,” she bemoaned, a little theatrically given her complaint wasn’t one she was actually unfamiliar with. It was in fact a regular one back home. “No A.C.” She stretched out and squinted her eyes in the sun. “If I die from heatstroke, will you give me a proper burial? No unmarked cursed stuff in the middle of the woods, please. I don’t need any cults getting freaky around it.”

A frown remained on Casey’s face, either because she was still thinking about Jesus looking all jacked like one of the guys on the swim team or because she was still coming to terms with the fact that this was not a field trip but an extended visit. “What the fuck?” she wasn’t startled by the rustling noise, she was startled by Wendy’s reaction to it. It was like when cats started staring at something nobody else could see or dogs started barking at nothing and suddenly she felt so exposed and helpless. She shuddered, a shiver crawling up the length of her spine at a speed that made her feel all sorts of uncomfortable without words that she knew of to describe it precisely. “What now?” she groaned, she was sure they were getting to a point where there was nothing else to be miserable about, surely the source of their misfortune was finite and they’d nearly exhausted it by mid-afternoon. “Oh gross,” she whined, folding her arms on the table and burying her head in them for a moment or so, “No showers and no air-con means the whole place is going to smell like an asshole wearing dirty sneakers within days,” she warned Wendy, though it was probably an obvious thought given the fact that they were sharing their creepy cabin with a bunch of other kids, athletes included. “Can I use you as a scarecrow?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. Maybe that wasn’t what Wendy meant by a proper burial but whatever, if she was dead she wouldn’t know the difference anyway. “No- whatever, it doesn’t matter anyway, I’m rooming with Gwen so I’m definitely going to die before you do. Conny has my funeral playlist, he knows which one it is and just make sure I’m wearing gas station sunglasses when you bury me,”

“ surely the exorcism is in their wheelhouse, ‘cause that’s inspired by a real priest or something, ” or at least connor was pretty sure some netflix documentary had said it was once. “ blair witch project is probably asking too much, i can respect that, ” he continued, barely speaking to casey but rather jumping on her rambling words and adding more useless ramblings to them. if they had ever said anything meaningful that people wanted to hear between them it would surely be a shocker. “ most convenient option, ” he answered, looking to her now as he spoke “ which is always the way a horror movie goes– hey, who do you think will go all jason voorhees first? sister michael or coach cobb? ”

“Fuck, you’re right- they invented that shit,” Casey silently cursed herself for having let her brother think of that before her but regardless, it was a good point. “More convenient than setting up a hostel in the dining hall or something?” which would have broken a number of health and safety regulations as well as those imposed by the FDA regarding the quality of food delivered to children on a school campus. “I don’t know man, it’s all hinky to me,” she insisted, taking a moment or two to look around the place as Connor continued chatting, “Cobb,” she announced plainly, without a beat to consider it, “He’s big but he’s slow and Sister Michael has big Laurie Strode energy,” she determined rather confidently. She sighed, admittedly exasperated by the situation, “I think the bridge is kinda cool,” she confessed, “There’s probably a demon that lives on it and appears on full moons or a troll that lives under it- or maybe it’s a portal to another dimension during certain lunar events,”  

“Of course they are. I mean ever read the good Book? Lot of scary shit in there.” Domenico chuckled, yep, plenty of disturbing imagery. Now himself he was no expert, but he had been forced to peer through the bible long enough to appreciate some of its macabre undertones.

“My bet, they want us to sustain some kind of penance or something…. School is hell after all or all that crap.” He shrugged.

“Yep, state of the art facilities my ass right?” Domenico knocked against the wooded façade on one of the cabins, it looked like it might have almost been enough for it to collapse. Then again, It’s either that or go home though, so yeah whatever, he had come to terms with the forced exile himself pretty quickly. Besides, it was not as if he was exactly accustomed to luxury anyway.

“Honest answer? Not really. I mean I know the stories- well, most of them. I know the one about the guy that sacrificed his son on the mountain and Adam and Eve and Noah’s Ark- wait, that was in the Bible right? Short answer no, never read it. If you wanna give me the horror highlights, I’m all ears though,” she might have to invest a little more time in sacred scripture if indeed it had some decent spooks to offer.

She chuckled as he knocked his knuckles against the wall of one of the cabins, “Careful, you might give somebody’s bedroom a new window- or worse, collapse the whole thing,” she warned, only half-joking. Unfortunately for the teenagers, the cabins did sort of look as if they could genuinely give way to rot at any given moment and Casey wasn’t entirely sure how much they could take from boisterous students bumping around in them. “Have you got all your stuff moved in yet?” 

location: seniors cabins, room 2 starter: open

@ba-central​

“damn piece of shit door.” marisol had camped in higher quality tents than… than whatever this was. some cabin in the woods that was high key out of some horror movie from the 90′s. she’s jimmied her key into the lock, which looked older than the school itself. but it refused to budge. so she resorts to kicking it. why? marisol doesn’t know, but it’s a way to channel out the frustration that had been building through her body all morning as an excuse to open the door to her school work. pacing back, rolling back at tense build up in her shoulders, it’s only now marisol notices the presence behind her. “what are you looking at?” her words don’t come out of malice, it’s evident in her voice she’s just frustrated.

Though it wasn’t coming from her own room, she could hear something occurring within the senior cabin that was enough to stir Casey from her bed. She hoped it was somebody having a panic attack explosive enough to convince the faculty to pay for them all to spend a week in a ritzy hotel but she knew better than to expect anything of the sort.