If he stayed here, could he forget the painful memories? Or at the very least, could he not think about the memories that hurt him inside? Memories are so innocent, and even when he knows that memories shift over time—that the older they are the less reliable they become because the mind has a tendency to rewrite tiny details again and again until eventually the memory is utterly wrong altogether, but he cannot help it. They are still his memories, false and all. They are so clear and so wrong.
The sky is not grey, but a bright blue that matches his core. Wispy white clouds are scattered above him and lazily mask the sun shining above him. Children’s laughter echoes behind him. He turns around toward the other kids running across the playground. When he curiously spins around once, he can see his mother calmly sitting on a park bench with a book in her hands. As if possessing a sixth sense she looks up. Thin lips curl into a smile to reveal dimples that mirror his own. She tilts her head and waves.
His face lights up and he waves back. “Hi Mommy!” he shouts before running off on his own. He can hear her laughing because he’s so old already—almost entering middle school—and still calling her Mommy. The swings are tempting, but something convinces him to wander into the shady patch of flowers and trees. He’s never been to that part of the park before. The first step into the shade is cool, and his sneakers slightly sink into the soft soil. He giggles, bends down to examine the dirt for anything interesting. Maybe if he’s lucky he’ll find a pill bug or worm to fool around with, but a ladybug would surely be a sight to see and admire. Most importantly, he feels safe because it’s bright outside. They won’t bother him now. That’s what he thinks, anyways.
A soft breeze grazes his cheek. The cool sensation is comforting at first, but then it becomes icy cold. It’s like tiny needles prickling his skin. He holds himself tightly while curling into a ball. Everything’s okay. Everything’s alright. It’s just my imagination like Mommy said, it’s just… But as garbled murmuring fills his ears, he suddenly doesn’t feel so sure. Is he losing his mind? He hopes it’s not real. Now the murmuring is shrieking laughter and his heart sinks.
So the mask continues. When he wears the mask he feels he can make others way. It does not matter if it hurts to walk through each day to lie to yourself. If you lie enough, you can fool yourself to believe nearly anything, and he cannot tell if that is a blessing or curse. He almost wants to say it is a blessing. He can feel himself into feigning happiness if he tries enough, but is it true happiness if it is built on lies? Just keep fooling yourself, boy. Keep on lying, just like...
The hotel is extremely run down when they arrive. It looks stony because the paint has peeled away from time, but the sight doesn’t unnerve the teenagers at all. They’re still laughing when they walk through the entrance. The interior matches the exterior perfectly. Everything is in ruin, rundown. Mold and dust and cobwebs are littered everywhere as they walk through the main hallway. Nothing happens at first, not immediately. They all decide the excursion would be much more exciting if they split up, and everyone is left on their own.
That’s when the singing starts. The voice is feminine, so he knows it’s definitely not from one of his friends. He shrugs it off though, labeling it as one of his friends bringing a recorder. That’s all it was, but there’s a nagging feeling in the back of his mind. He’s felt this familiar sensation of a rapidly beating heart and growing feeling of dread. But he doesn’t know why. It’s like he’s forgotten. He tries making his way up a set of stairs to the second floor when he hears someone scream from the basement. Panic and concern seizes him, but the concern outweighs the fear. He runs toward the basement and lets out his own yell when he sees the fresh blood splattered across the wall. Hands tremble when he stares into glassy eyes.
“No way…” he breathes while backstepping his way up the stairs and running out. He trips over another body. “This isn’t real.”
He tries running up the stairs to the second floor and something heavy falls from above, but its long sleeves catch on a piece of floorboard. A pale face stares straight at him. Ringing fills his ears as someone cackles Get out now!
He nearly trips, but scrambles out the exit. He’s tempted to collapse onto the ground, but the fear keeps him running. He sprints until he’s on a dirt path trail and lit houses are dotting the distance. Civilization. Finally he falls to his knees, tears spilling onto the dusty ground. “That wasn’t…”
Something flashes in the back of his mind. Black tendrils. Chilling laughter. Creaking floorboards. His childhood. But none of that was real. This wasn’t real either. He laughs weakly as he stumbles to his feet. That’s right. This wasn’t real. This didn’t happen. His friends are missing. He has to report this to the police…
Snap out of it snap out of it snap out of it. R0GU3 shook his head as he managed to pull himself out of his past memories. Right now he was not Wilson Hopkins, he was R0GU3R4BB1T. Lady Luck had decided to grace their party by granting them survival, and he had to make use of that opportunity. Another loud sigh as he stepped out of his usual healer spot. He brushed past the rest of his party to walk toward the destruction boss. One hand searched through his pocket card while the other hand held tightly to his weapon just before he attacked.
OOC
MY CARDS:
[ My Main Starter Deck ]: gaia_crown [ R0GU3R4BB1Ts STATS ]
HP: 44
BOSS HP REMAINING: 145
ATTACK: 100
ATTACK TARGET: Boss
DEFENSE SELF: 0
DEFENSE TARGET: 0
HEALS SELF: 17
HEALS TARGET:
LUCK MULTIPLIER: 1 on none
