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( KILL LOG - WEEK 3, MARTY )
[The first thing Marty will notice is the fact that, for some reason or another, he's no longer where he fell asleep last night.
Or, perhaps that won't be the first thing to captivate his attention. Perhaps it'll be the mess of blood in the Lounge — grotesque messages written in blood and a coppery stench filling the air. There is a corpse nearby; Rachel is slumped over in her wheelchair, still and unmoving. In his hand is a knife.
This seems kind of unfortunate.]
Or, perhaps that won't be the first thing to captivate his attention. Perhaps it'll be the mess of blood in the Lounge — grotesque messages written in blood and a coppery stench filling the air. There is a corpse nearby; Rachel is slumped over in her wheelchair, still and unmoving. In his hand is a knife.
This seems kind of unfortunate.]
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There's a short noise of surprise as his adrenaline spikes, a muffled curse and something muttered under his breath ("Fucking ghost bullshit, I didn't do shit—") and he nearly tosses the knife away in panic, but... No, even with the taser still on him, it's dangerous to leave a weapon lying around. Getting off the couch hurriedly, he gives a glance to the corpse, but there's no saving her now. That much is clear. So instead, he walks to a wall, pressing his fingers to one of the letters. He can tell it's really blood, and he's not too eager to stay in this place.
So, holding the knife, he makes his way out of the lounge. He's moving as quietly and carefully as he can, attempting to remain aware of his surroundings as he goes.]
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She's been waiting outside the lounge for him, right behind the corner where the laundry room is. He can't stay inside there forever, right? 8am is going to hit soon and if he's not out, then he's going to get caught. It won't be good if he lives like Hana did. She doesn't even know exactly what the hell Omega changed about her power, and that worries her more than she lets on. Shit like this isn't what she's used to, but a change of game means a change of tactics.
But, finally, she hears the door opening and takes a breath. It's time - this is going to suck. She straightens herself and moves from out the corner, trying to look as natural as possible to give an impression that she just came from the laundry room, and freezes when she sees him. She won't be very clean though. Her chest area has a bit of blood splatters on it, her face a couple of cuts.]
Marty?
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He sees the blood on her chest, the injuries on her face, and while he doesn't know where they came from... He's still incredibly wary, and her seeing him holding a knife and emerging from a crime scene isn't ideal.]
Fancy meeting you here.
[Another step back.]
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[It's not accusatory, but it is skeptical and tense. He keeps his eyes on her, guarded enough for the both of them. He'll tell her the truth, even if it sounds strange; if his growing suspicion as to why he woke up in the lounge is correct (there's one role that he's thinking of), it's something that'll be easily confirmed at the trial thanks to Omega.]
When I woke up in the lounge, she was already dead.
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[But.]
What happened to your face, Mira?
[His voice is a little more forceful this time.]
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How about I show you?
[She huffs, straightens her shoulders and then lets out a shriek before rushing right at Marty, nails out ready to strike. He might have the knife, but he doesn't know she hasn't actually possessed him yet. She just needs him to stab her before she does anything to him.]
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That's why, instead, he shoves his hand into his pocket without delay. He pulls out the taser that she isn't aware he has right in time for her to reach him, pushes the switch, and aims right for her face.]
Supremely uncool, man! Supremely uncool!
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AGH!
[The taser slams right into her and she doesn't see it coming, thrown back by the shock to the ground. Shit. She didn't search his body at all when she brought him into the lounge - she figured if he had something on her, she wouldn't even be able to see it because of the item and weapon rules. Goddammit.]
You fucker. [She tries to collect herself, but she's completely frazzled. This isn't what she planned.] You're going to regret that.
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[But that being said, he's using this opportunity to try to make a getaway. Of course, he doesn't realize she hasn't already possessed him, so he's assuming the taser will have bought him enough time to actually do so.
He's also raising both middle fingers high at her as he tries to leave, as he does.]
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You got really unlucky Marty. That's all this is. Too bad.
[Her expression then turns blank once more. And she collapses, the strings cut and her body now only an empty container. In the next instance, Marty is going to suddenly feel something trying to claw its way into his consciousness. Trying to take control of him.]
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Oh, for fuck's sake— come on!
[He continues to take a few steps away, but they're more stumbling and uncertain.]
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̨̭̹͚̬̯̙̲̦͓̙̹̬̥̼͈̻̥͠Í̸̭̪̺̪̼̘̱̜̥̱̲̭́'͏̲̟͚̯͙̤̦̠̦̳́͝ḿ̴͓̖̮͎̫̣̖̹̥̹̝̬̠̪̤̮̩̺͢ ̷̥̯̯͖́͜A̧̖̱̟̖̘̬͕͈͎͍̯͚̬̠͖͙͞ͅĻ̶̡̣̟̫̪̯̗͜͝r̵̙̦̲͉̮̱̙̲̭̖̦͘̕͠͞ͅE̳̗̘̰̘̮͈͍͠͝ą̸̵̞̰͇̟̯̝̖͘ͅD̡҉̢̩̺̫̙̗̦̩͍̥̻͚̙͓͉̼̜͉̮ͅY̴̡͖̟̲̬͕̰̼̖̫͉̟̺ ̴͏̶̡̣̝̣̦̺̣͈̗̠͍̥̥̣̱͟i̢̧͖̟̻͕̮̱͍̹̰̟̺̮̬̥͘ͅǹ̵̸̟̘̯͚̯͚̲͎̗̪ͅS͝͏̴̧̮̤̬̦̙̘́I̧̳͕̘̫̩̝̰͓͖͖̝͔͉̕͜D̸́͡͏̪̘̙̼͓̠̗̺̟͙͍̗͈̙̲̻ͅĘ̛͉̙̟̯̱̠̙͔͎͚̖̣͈̰̳̜̕͢͢ ̷̣̻̜̕ͅÝ̜͖̲̥̩̤̱͖̻̩̼̣̹̬͢͢Ǫ͏̸̵̟̠̯͕̝̼͓̤͉̫̳̫̘̩͍̙͡Ų̴̴̴̲̜̻͓̝̜̥̪͓̱̼̼̳̙
[That voice won't come from anywhere in the silent corridor though. It's coming from within his mind, as whatever just crawled in is working to overtake his consciousness, lulling him into darkness. He won't even get to be a standby passenger. No one can know what she has done, no one can be left to tell the tale.
After all... three can keep a secret if two are dead.]