Infinity MBION

Drip… drip… drip…

Slowly a pair of eyes hidden behind glasses flutter open briefly before shutting once more.  This repeats once more. And finally, with a third time of eyelids drowsily opening and closing, a quiet groan manages to slip past chapped lips as a pair of hands are brought up to rub tiredly at a weary looking face.

Drip… drip… drip… The camera begins to pan out a bit to give the viewer a better shot of none other than Oliver Lancaster. The exhausted looking boy appeared to be donned in a olive colored tunic with what appeared to be a sword strapped to his back for whatever reason. Successfully managing to keep his eyes open this time his tired expression begins to try and take in the area surrounding him, but to no avail.

Drip… drip… drip… As awareness began to seep back into his aching bones, Oliver carefully pushes himself off of what felt like a rather dirty stone flooring. Squinting as he brought his head back up he took another attempt at trying to take in the area around him… It was too dark to really see anything, and when he brought his left hand up to his face he could barely make out it’s outline. Drip… Drip… The quiet droplets hitting the ground caught his attention next as Oliver’s head shot up from where he had been looking down at his hand. Curiously, he reached his right hand out into the open darkness. He felt nothing. Deciding to repeat the process he stretched out left hand, and halfway before fully outstretching it completely it brushed into grimy, dirty stone again. Fighting to keep the smirk off his face, and failing, Oliver shuffled closer towards the stone putting both of his hands upon it. Thankfully he had been out cold next to a wall which saved him a lot more trouble than he’d ever like to admit. Eyesight obviously wasn’t one of his strong suits especially when it was too dark to even see let alone adjust to.

Drip… Drip… Once again the droplets caught his attention. With a sigh of resignation Oliver realized he had no choice but to go towards where he thought the droplets seemed to be coming from. He didn’t know the source and he wasn’t actually certain what good it would do for him to find it, but it was the only thing he could do at this moment in time. So… He began to shuffle towards the noise. … … Now the only sounds were the quiet tapping of the soles of his feet and the drips. The drips got louder the closer he got, but… Admittedly this was taking a lot longer than what he had patience for. Sometimes… it even seemed the dripping moved. As though it went from one area just when he thought he was getting close to another. It was beginning to make the boy, who’s muscles protested and ached with every slow movement, quite paranoid. In fact, he didn’t realize when he had begun to start moving slower, nor did he notice when he had started taking steps full of a lot more cautious. Anxiety was beginning to fuck with him- Oliver was certain of this.

Drip… Another quiet drip reached his ears except this one sounded as though it had moved behind him somehow. Turning himself around again Oliver felt himself freeze up. The hair’s on the back of his neck had begun to stand up and he could feel goosebumps crawl across his flesh as a chill shot straight down his spine. The very feeling of something’s not right here began to settle snugly within his bones as though it were making itself right at home. Oliver never was one for fear, but his expression began to take on a more grim appearance to it. He knew he wasn’t here voluntarily- oh no that much was confirmed and certain, but… Breathing sharply through his nose he then exhaled softly from his mouth. Whatever was going on he wouldn’t let it get to him anymore than it has, or well… That’s what he would be saying if the goosebumps and the hair on his skin would just chill the fuck out. It was then that he noticed the dripping had stopped. When had it stopped? Oliver whirled his head around as though that would really help him before he inched a few feet forward. … His foot hit something. He couldn’t stop his breath from hitching, nor could he stop his eyes from widening in surprise. It felt like his foot nudged… … No. A look of pure dread crossed his features faster than realization could hit him, but it was too late something had shot out from where his foot had nudged it and grabbed his throat slamming his back right up against the wall.

Oliver’s vision was swimming as all air was knocked completely out of his lungs. Futilely he brought his hands up trying to pry the thing- a hand?- away from his neck. Trying to suck in whatever gloriously sweet amounts of air he could, so long as he could just breathe, breathe you idiot! Breathe!

The hand tightened more around his throat, painfully so, with it’s sharp nails digging directly into the skin. Breaking it even, as he could feel the blood sliding slowly down his skin. He was beginning to feel a little clammy, and breathing was starting to become a thing he couldn’t really comprehend at this moment in time. And then it stopped. The tightening around his throat stopped; It even loosened to Oliver’s surprise. Almost immediately he began to gulp down air greedily as though he would never be able to have it again- which he wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case, honestly.

The hand was still wrapped around his throat, and his hands were still trying to pry it away from his throat. But… despite it’s loose hold its grip was like iron. It was nigh impossible to break away from it. Then… Oho then… Then it began to drag him. It was dragging him away from the wall right into the darkness he could feel it pull himself a little higher in the air to the point where the tips of his feet were dragging across the ground and god, god! It’s dragging him into the dark!   Panic coursed through his veins at the thought of being out there. Out in the open. God, please, anywhere but out there! It’s too vulnerable he’s too blind out here! Instinctually, Oliver’s hand- his right one- which had been prying at the hand on his throat had moved to grip the sword still sheathed upon his back. He wasn’t exactly sure what happened next until he felt the sword rather than heard it slice straight through flesh. As soon as the hand was removed from whatever limb had been dragging him straight to the middle he had been dropped straight to the ground. Not being able to catch himself in time he stumbled before his adrenaline spiked causing him to jump up to his feet immediately. He shouldn’t be out here. Not this far out. It was too dark, far too dark. Why was it so dark? … Then he heard it. Oliver’s head whipped around behind him just in time to throw his sword up in defense to slice through yet another hand… Startled at the thump of it dropping to the floor like the last one Oliver tried to regulate his breathing to one that wouldn’t cause him to wheeze.

It was futile, however. Slouching his shoulders he could feel exhaustion pour over his limbs and he nearly dropped the sword he had clenched within his right hand. Oliver knew he couldn’t let his caution fall, but it was too hard to keep it up. He just wasn’t built for this type of thing; Being locked up in your room for years in will do that to you as a person. Stumbling backwards he tried to to keep his breathing quiet, he strained his ears in an attempt to hear anything, please, anything to let him know if there were anymore of those… weird hands, but there was no noise. He was the only noise. … It took him a moment of calming and shuffling backwards before his back hit the wall again, and God… Oliver had never tasted a relief quite sweeter than that one. Heaving out a shuddering breath he let his eyes flutter shut for a moment letting the relief sink in before he heard it. The dripping. He could hear the dripping again. It was closer. Much closer than all the other times he had heard it. He wasn’t exactly sure if that was a good thing or not, though. Standing up straight again Oliver let the sword droop loosely within his hand as he shuffled a little further down the wall towards the noise. The drips stopped. And so did he. He didn’t know he was holding his breath until another- it was another! hand shot out at him. Oliver swung his sword again in defense, but all it met was air. Shock graced his features entirely- why was he surprised? He’s never used a sword in his life- and the hand had dodged, it had dodged him and grabbed his ankle before swiftly tugging at it causing him to lose his footing. … Frankly, he was quite sick of being thrown around like baggage, but it’s not like he could stop that. Just like how he couldn’t stop how this thing was now dragging him back, back towards the middle. Towards the void. The dark. It was so, so much darker in the middle of the room. At least Oliver thought it was the middle anyways. It was then that he found another hair clutch painfully onto his head, onto his scalp, and pull him upwards. The sharp nails were embedding themselves within his scalp and the sting of pain had him struggling to bring up his sword in an attempt of possibly cutting this one off, but another, oh god it was another, hand had grabbed his right arm. More and more wrapped around him, restricting him until he was struggling in futile. Struggling was all he could do anymore. The dripping started up again slowly getting closer towards wherever he was situated, and he found that he could carefully make out the outlines of his arms and the hands… Oh god, what was this thing? Oliver’s breath hitched as the hands seemed to be coming from either the ground or somewhere else within the abyss of blackness surrounding him. It was only then when the dripping was coming from right in front of him, and the tug of a hand pulling his scalp up once more did realization hit him like a brick to the face. He knew. He knew, he knew, he knew! He knew what this was! Horror, pure unadulterated horror… It could even very well be considered terror had wormed it’s way through any and every thought he had. It wormed it’s way through his skin, and his expression was nothing short of fear. Oliver could feel his blood turn to pure, solid ice at the sight.

He wanted to do something, anything, his mind was screaming at him to do something! Even start screaming if he very well could; pride be damned! But, it was impossible. He was stricken. He couldn’t move, dammit, why couldn’t he move!

All Oliver remembers is the sound of saliva dripping and falling quietly to the floor, the tightness of hands restricting his every movement, and the crushing, crushing darkness of the void around him to his very. last. breath.

…

No other sound was made as Oliver’s face was bitten straight off other than the sword clattering to the floor. Silence quickly had overtaken the room once again.

Oliver receives:

Mystery Capsule

Fuzzy Handcuffs

and

As Mika made her way to the shed, making sure to keep an observant eye out, she might notice something interesting in the Cirque du Infini. On the picnic table in front of the Big Top, there seem to be two drinking glasses. Both of them contain a little bit of a liquid, but are nearly empty. 

Gruesome corpse? Don’t you mean gruesome corpses? 

Well looking at the Tilt a Whirl, there doesn’t seem to be much there. It’s just a regular carnival ride. 

But looking at the roller coaster, specifically the tracks, Kai would find something particularly interesting.

Well, if Keisuke went into the girl’s changing room, like a nasty little pervert, he’d find some clothes laying around. There’s a sweater with a number of cats on it, and some white jeans.

There isn’t anything in Momo’s pockets, and the blood seems to be coming from one of her many wounds. But that seems to be the only really important thing about her body.

Smart move, Hiromi, taking pictures of the bodies like that. 

Besides all the stuff that he’s already looked at, there isn’t much else of importance in the freezer. You can go now Keisuke. 

There seem to be a pair of bloody messages, the first reading “S  R” and the other “Ryuu.”