Jitter jitter jitter jitter twitch twitch twitch. I didn’t think I’d have to hide for so long when I had that tea and then that coffee and then the second coffee this morning. It’s not having to pee that’s the bad part (though I do really have to pee) it’s that my eyes won’t stay still in my head. And the angle of the view of the street out the broken window is giving me vertigo. How can I watch that door when I can’t concentrate for three goddamn seconds together?
Whoo. Okay. Okay, I got this. Just gotta keep my knees still and then everything else will fall in line. Breathe in and out.
Beard Guy just opened the window and stuck his head out. He’s yelling to Bald Tattoo Man. Something about the eclipse? Or maybe clippers. He is bald after all. He must own clippers. Very important in maintaining that shiny headed kind of baldness. I wonder if he oils his head. I would oil my head if I were bald. I wonder what he oils it with.
Okay, Bald Man is going down the alley. Turning…left. Gone. Beard Guy’s gone back inside. If I were a bold person, I would make a break for it now, but I feel like my knees won’t hold me. I think I’ll trip over a pile of empty paint cans and twist my ankle and just be lying there like a dead beetle when all the cultists come for me.
See, this is the problem with urban exploring, it is very hazardous to the untrained. And not to be embarked upon on a whim by people who are bad at falling. Who had too much caffeine. And not enough breakfast. And need to pee. And can’t stop monologuing.
To be fair, it is excellent procrastination and avoidance. Why, I might have actually made it to the job interview if I hadn’t decided this place needed to be urbanely explored post haste. I might have gotten the job. Dodged that bullet, girl, good going.
Oop, Baldy’s back. With bagels. Oh. Oh God. I would sing in the streets for a bagel right now. Not to him, obviously. That would go poorly. I would definitely dropkick him for his bagels if I knew how to dropkick. (Mental note: learn how to do drop kicks.)
He’s…he’s going to throw the bagels in the window. To Beard. Huh. Well, I guess that adds to the sum of my knowledge. Their perimeter watch is fairly serious. Heh. Perimeter. Feel like I’m in a tv show.
You know, the whole reason I have a flip phone is its indestructible quality. When it falls onto hard surfaces, it is supposed to scoff at them, not to burst into ten unhandy pieces. The correct number is three unhandy pieces. That I put back together. Every time. Shameful. I’ll be sending a stern email if I don’t get sacrificed today.
Guhhhh. I suppose I could pee in one of the paint cans. I wish I had some water. No, I wish I had a sandwich. No, I wish I was at home in bed wishing I was out doing something exciting.
Ope, something’s happening. Door’s opening. Please be the girl, please be the girl, please be the girl.
It’s another guy. New guy. Looks, wow, looks pretty psycho. I think he has tattoos on his eyelids. Oh, jeez, yes definitely has eyeballs tattooed on his eyelids. That is surprisingly gross. Ugh, veiny. Why would you tattoo the eyeball veins in?
He’s talking to Bald. Handwaving. Exclamations. Beard just stuck his head back out the window. He’s yelling. Mehn mehn mehn, not my fault, someone else’s fault, blehblehbleh. Eyelids is not having it. What wasn’t your fault? Come on, Beard, give me some nouns. FUCK YOU, BEARD, USE A GODDAMN NOUN.
Breathe. Breathing. Okay.
They’re missing something that’s supposed to be there, Beard possibly was supposed to get/have it. Bald is mad. Eyelids is mad. Beard is sulking. He just slammed the window down again.
Looks like Eyelids is leaving. They’re doing the secret handshake thing again. Yes, yes, dress up your human trafficking or whatever it is in a Masonic party dress, you fucking skin tags.
Oooh, wait, Bald is going with him. Shit. Shit. I think my time is now.
Wow. I do not want to do this. When they say heart in your mouth, it isn’t a metaphor. I can feel my pulse in my soft palate.
Okay, got my pile of bricks. Knees: mostly operational. Courage: definitely in there somewhere. Here we go.
Hahah! Damn that’s a pretty sound. That fucker EXPLODED. Here comes Beard running. He’s looking at the broken window. He found the brick. You ready, Beard? You ready for six years of softball pitching?
Um. Shit. That was harder than I thought. I think, I think he might be dead. I can’t breathe so well. Ahh.
No time. Got two bricks, I’m going for it.
Jumped the paint cans (good job, knees), avoided the rusty rebar pit trap. I guess I’m just going to drop from where the stairs were. I’ll drop the bricks first.
Owww. Shit. It’s okay, it’s okay, I can get a tetanus shot any old time if I move fast enough and get out of here. Got my bricks.
Okay, I’m in the street. Their door is locked. Madame Brick, would you care to do the honours? Why, thank you, I declare, that doorknob was positively bowled over by your charms. Crap, there’s a dead bolt too. Shitshitshitshit.
You know when they break down doors in tv shows? I think…that might not be accurate. Wow. You have to go at that sucker like you’re in a mosh pit.
Boom! Gotcha, ahaha, noooo problem!
Nobody in the first floor hall, excellent. Stairs, stairs, stairs. Stairs!
Oh. He’s definitely dead. That isn’t what I wanted. God, that isn’t what I wanted. I can’t do this.
Empty room, empty room. Locked room. Beard’s gotta have the key, right?
Oh man. He’s so soft. Oh, people should not feel like this. Breast pocket, got it.
Dropped it. Fuck, dropped it again, I WILL NEVER DRINK COFFEE EVER AGAIN IF I GET OUT OF THIS OKAY.
Oh Jesus, she’s in here but she’s all tied up. No time no time no time.
I’m just going to carry her out, get her someplace safe or at the very least someplace public and then we can deal with the ropes.
She’s yelling into the gag, I’m taking her blindfold off.
This woman is pissed. Here we go, fireman’s carry. I’m sorry. I know. Please stop yelling at me.
Lift with the legs. Ooh shit. No, you got it. We got it.
Stairs. Stairs are hard.
Run run run, okay, out in the street, heavyyyyy, we’re going, we’re getting we are gone.