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Post by ◊◊BLOODBEASTER◊◊ on Nov 18, 2018 16:56:38 GMT -8
RADIO- "Drive the car to the end of the road. Suffer through your pain; you will be rewarded."
Indeed, you would have to sit on a fiery seat to drive the car, assuming it would even go.
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Post by Dr. Maneep Pamplemousse on Nov 18, 2018 16:57:52 GMT -8
I've remade flesh once already. I get in and get this thing going.
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Post by ◊◊BLOODBEASTER◊◊ on Nov 18, 2018 17:03:19 GMT -8
The flames crackle over you, finding little fuel on your meager bones. The pain
is exquisite, if that's the kind of thing you're into.
The car indeed starts up, the keys still in the ignition, glowing with the heat.
The steering wheel melts onto your fingers, but somehow, the car rolls into
motion. You drive through a wall of flame, the black smoke seeping in through
every crack of the car. The worst seems to be past, though it takes a moment
for the smoke to clear.
A woman is standing in the road. At least, it sort of looks like a woman through the shimmering heat waves. She is facing you, hands folded patiently.
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Post by Dr. Maneep Pamplemousse on Nov 18, 2018 17:04:27 GMT -8
I pull the car up close and get out, however that is manageable.
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Post by ◊◊BLOODBEASTER◊◊ on Nov 18, 2018 17:07:26 GMT -8
The car sort of slumps into place, the tires melting to the road and sagging.
The woman leans on her knees and waves her hand, like she's summoning
a toddler who's taking his first steps. The closer you approach, the larger
she seems. Something about the perspective? She's just impossibly tall,
seven feet, eight feet...
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Post by Dr. Maneep Pamplemousse on Nov 18, 2018 17:09:26 GMT -8
I keep approaching.Ryan (disturbed)-- "So what precisely do you want from me?"
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Post by ◊◊BLOODBEASTER◊◊ on Nov 18, 2018 17:20:21 GMT -8
Woman- "I want you to find my missing boy. Come with me, and I'll take you out of this place." On closer approach, you saw that she had no face. Just a smooth sheet of skin without as much as a bump for a nose. The rest of her appearance was rather similar to your secretary, including the outfit she wore today. Her voice was the same too, though who could know how she was speaking without a mouth.
A house on the end of the block was not on fire, remarkable untouched save for a bit of smoldering on the tips of a tree's branches. It was your childhood home. "Don't worry, I'm not going to run you through another psychodrama. You're not the sentimental type, and neither am I."
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Post by Dr. Maneep Pamplemousse on Nov 18, 2018 17:22:27 GMT -8
Ryan (disturbed)-- "I am glad you see that. So, does this mean you are Timothy's mother? Or are you searching for someone else?"
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Post by ◊◊BLOODBEASTER◊◊ on Nov 18, 2018 17:30:49 GMT -8
Woman- "No, that other person is his mother. He's mine though, in another sense." She opened the door for you politely. She would have to hunch over to fit inside, but instead she merely held the door open. The interior of the house looked similar
to how you remembered it, but phony, like a matte painting attached to the walls. "You're not a fit for me, but I appreciate your attitude. Go inside, and your task should be clear enough. You won't remember this."
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Post by Dr. Maneep Pamplemousse on Nov 18, 2018 17:40:49 GMT -8
Ryan (disturbed)-- "That would be nice." I entered with haste, ready to put this place behind me.
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