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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.]
no subject
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.
no subject
[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.]
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.]