Mika Whitepaws (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wolfishsurvivalist) wrote2011-08-17 06:04 pm
wolfishsurvivalist) wrote2011-08-17 06:04 pm
✖ anxiety attack: 005 ✖
[A. 339 Brady Lane]
[The sound of shattering glass is loud in the kitchen, the milk bottle having slipped out of Mika's hands. Sweat forms on her brow, her pupils dilating, and the trembling starts just as she begins to scream.
The walls have gone moldy and stained, the glass fogged with filth and grime, and the milk and glass on the floor is now blood and flesh. Disembodied sounds echoing through a haunted apartment that seems to watch her. Shadows flutter at the corner of her vision, grasping hands reaching for her to drag her down and tear her apart. Something was moving, its heavy footfalls made the floorboards creak in the floor above her and its loud, wet breathing makes it sound as if it was coming for her.
The whole building--no, the town itself--knew where she was.
It was coming for her. This time it was going to kill her for good. Her screams were muffled by the heavy air, but she doesn't care, she needs to escape it somehow even if she has to fight her way out.]
LEAVE ME ALONE!
[B. Phone]
[She's sobbing uncontrollably as she grips the phone so hard the receiver is creaking, she's desperate to talk to someone even if all she can hear is static. She should have known better but she's going to leave a message anyway.]
Oh God, somebody please pick up! This apartment is full of hauntings and I can't find anybody. It's just them! They're everywhere! They can hear me breathe and they know where I am, I tried to find the others but I don't have any red tape and there's blood all over the place and I don't know where to go.
Somebody, please!
[Welcome to the crazy, Mayfield. Someone got the Special Milk.]
[C. Streets: Afternoon]
[Mika has escaped the confines of the house, a roll of duct tape in one hand and a lead pipe in the other. She's shaking like a leaf, but her grip on the pipe is white-knuckled and possibly deadly if provoked.]
[D. Park: Evening]
[Curled up beneath a tree with her knees hugged to her chest, Mika is rocking gently as she cries into her knees. Her arms are scraped up and her knees are bleeding, and there's leaves and grass in her hair and clothes. It's been a very long day and the effect of the milk is starting to wear off, but not enough for her to feel safe. Someone come rescue her?]
[The sound of shattering glass is loud in the kitchen, the milk bottle having slipped out of Mika's hands. Sweat forms on her brow, her pupils dilating, and the trembling starts just as she begins to scream.
The walls have gone moldy and stained, the glass fogged with filth and grime, and the milk and glass on the floor is now blood and flesh. Disembodied sounds echoing through a haunted apartment that seems to watch her. Shadows flutter at the corner of her vision, grasping hands reaching for her to drag her down and tear her apart. Something was moving, its heavy footfalls made the floorboards creak in the floor above her and its loud, wet breathing makes it sound as if it was coming for her.
The whole building--no, the town itself--knew where she was.
It was coming for her. This time it was going to kill her for good. Her screams were muffled by the heavy air, but she doesn't care, she needs to escape it somehow even if she has to fight her way out.]
LEAVE ME ALONE!
[B. Phone]
[She's sobbing uncontrollably as she grips the phone so hard the receiver is creaking, she's desperate to talk to someone even if all she can hear is static. She should have known better but she's going to leave a message anyway.]
Oh God, somebody please pick up! This apartment is full of hauntings and I can't find anybody. It's just them! They're everywhere! They can hear me breathe and they know where I am, I tried to find the others but I don't have any red tape and there's blood all over the place and I don't know where to go.
Somebody, please!
[Welcome to the crazy, Mayfield. Someone got the Special Milk.]
[C. Streets: Afternoon]
[Mika has escaped the confines of the house, a roll of duct tape in one hand and a lead pipe in the other. She's shaking like a leaf, but her grip on the pipe is white-knuckled and possibly deadly if provoked.]
[D. Park: Evening]
[Curled up beneath a tree with her knees hugged to her chest, Mika is rocking gently as she cries into her knees. Her arms are scraped up and her knees are bleeding, and there's leaves and grass in her hair and clothes. It's been a very long day and the effect of the milk is starting to wear off, but not enough for her to feel safe. Someone come rescue her?]
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