Confinement Part 20

Happy Election Day! Implying that we all are in fact underage to vote, I just hope that Obama wins! I also hope that you all like this part (democratic or not :P), and I'm really happy that I didn't take too long!

QUESTION OF THE DAY RIGHT HERE: Do you believe that the Miscreancy was evil before Sebastian's rule, or was it more peaceful and actually had a good moral while Haste was involved?

Created by: Dannica

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Our "Big Five" Personality Assessment Quiz!

  1. The room of which we climbed through the window was odd. As Rave weaved me through the room swiftly and quickly I had a limited time to look around, but what I had seen was probably the most strangest, and weirdest thing I've ever encountered, which would sound frantically ironic to some. The room was decorated a faded pink, and all over there were John F. Kennedy photos plastered on, tilted and upside down and on their sides. There were also cat toys askew on the floor, from yarn to toy mice and even a cat castle was sitting in the corner of the room. So pretty much, we were trying to save JFK-obsessed cat woman's life. With Rave's hand still in mine, we went through the hallway, where the walls were tainted white and bare, making them seem as if they were glowing, and a strange static-like noise filled my ears. We pounded down the stairs like two jaguars on the lookout for prey, and when we reached the bottom step, Rave let go.
  2. "Where is she?" I asked, suddenly getting nervous. This was real; we were actually going to attempt to save someone's life from a brutal death. "Shh," Rave whispered under his breath, taking my arm and pulling both of us in a dark corner where the light from the kitchen didn't touch. "Somebody's coming." And then, as if on cue, the knob of the front door that was merely feet away from the two of us started jiggling, like somebody was trying to get inside. Then, Rave pulled me into him, wHere my back was facing outwards and my face was to his chest. "Maybe black wasn't that bad of an idea after all," he aired out with a slight smile. I could only nod, as the closeness of the both of us made me feel warm and tingly and terrifyingly insecure. Suddenly I heard the door bust open, and heavy footsteps padded their way inside, closing the door behind them. That certainly was not the lady.
  3. I wasn't breathing, and neither was Rave. The hands that were on my waist and the hands that were on his chest were rigid, and not being able to see the guy just made everything worst. Guessing that this was in fact a man, from his heavy footsteps and low grunts as he made his way across the floor, the tone in step changed, implying that he was inside the kitchen, from the soft clinks of his boots hitting the tiled or wood floor. Then, Rave turned me around, but still held me in the same place. I felt his mouth lingering by my neck, and I felt his eyes looking at my cheek and his fingertips graze a patch of my stomach that was shown from when he spun me around just a moment ago and part of my shirt flapped up. I could smell his scent as it surrounded all my senses and distracted me from everything else, and I could feel his hot breath on my ear as he leaned closer, keeping me in the shadow with him.
  4. "He has a gun," Rave whispered into my ear. "He was holding it when he walked in." My stomach twisted and my gut felt like trying out for the Olympic Trials in gymnastics from his low and smooth voice flowing its words into my ear. "So what's the plan?" I asked, snapping out of it. Rave let go of my waist. "I'm going to go in and catch him by surprise. The gun is going to be out of his hands, so when I call your name, you're going to run in and get the gun, okay?" "What about the lady?" Rave looked impatient. "She's not there. If she was we would have heard her scream." Then he slipped out of the corner, back into the faint light. "Be ready." I nodded, trying my best not to look so scared as I watched Rave turn his back and go through the kitchen doors.
  5. The quietness almost nauseated me. It felt like I was standing there (with that annoying static noise that I still couldn't put my finger on) for days. I wondered how Rave was going to sneak up on the man, and also what valuable things could be stolen from a woman's kitchen. Food, maybe, if the guy was poor? No, I snapped at myself stupidly. If he could afford a gun then he could definitely get food. And besides, wouldn't he be apart of the Miscreancy? Didn't I only sense those who were to be killed solely by them? It had to be. But then why did he have a gun? My mind was clouded; it was like it all fogged up and everything was disoriented and blurry and nothing— There was a loud bang, and I jumped up, frantically. Wait for the call, I kept telling myself. Do what he told you to do. More noises echoed off from the room, drowning away the static noise. I heard metal clinking against metal and a struggle of groans and heavy breathing. "______!" Then there was a sharp drop, like a heavy item dropped to the ground, and then a wall shook from something that had impacted— "______!" Wait, wasn't that the call? Yes, it was! I started running as fast I could, feeling stupid for not acting upon it immediately, running through the doors and looking around to see what was unfolding before me.
  6. The first thing I saw was Rave and the man who had broken in tumbling around on the ground. Then in a matter of milliseconds, the man lifted him off the ground and slammed him into the counter, which got a yell out of me. Rave peered over his shoulder, a purple bruise forming on his lower jaw. "The gun!" he ordered, as he shoved the man backwards as his bulky body tried getting up from the tile. I snapped out of the frantic zone I was in, and scrambled about the ground, looking for the gun, as I heard something shatter to ground, shards of glass flinging from left and right. Then I saw it. A black gun, under the table. I hurried to get it, slipping on all fours, my breath and hands and everything shaking. Suddenly something grabbed my ankle with such a force that I lost my balance and landed on my chin with a hard groan. I kicked and flailed my leg, guessing it was the man who had broken in who grabbed me. Then my ankle was free, after I heard a crack from behind me, and I bolted for the handle of the gun. I hugged it towards my chest, the muzzle pointing away from me, and watched for Rave, whom was on top of the sink, with the the man in front of him, trying to punch him. Then, I saw Rave reach back behind him, and my eyes saw his hand on the hilt of a kitchen knife. I knew what he would do. I turned around before I could see it.
  7. The first thing I saw was Rave and the man who had broken in tumbling around on the ground. Then in a matter of milliseconds, the man lifted him off the ground and slammed him into the counter, which got a yell out of me. Rave peered over his shoulder, a purple bruise forming on his lower jaw. "The gun!" he ordered, as he shoved the man backwards as his bulky body tried getting up from the tile. I snapped out of the frantic zone I was in, and scrambled about the ground, looking for the gun, as I heard something shatter to ground, shards of glass flinging from left and right. Then I saw it. A black gun, under the table. I hurried to get it, slipping on all fours, my breath and hands and everything shaking. Suddenly something grabbed my ankle with such a force that I lost my balance and landed on my chin with a hard groan. I kicked and flailed my leg, guessing it was the man who had broken in who grabbed me. Then my ankle was free, after I heard a crack from behind me, and I bolted for the handle of the gun. I hugged it towards my chest, the muzzle pointing away from me, and watched for Rave, whom was on top of the sink, with the the man in front of him, trying to punch him. Then, I saw Rave reach back behind him, and my eyes saw his hand on the hilt of a kitchen knife. I knew what he would do. I turned around before I could see it.
  8. I heard a muffled thump to the floor, and a relieved breath. I turned back around, and stood up from the ground, meeting Rave’s gaze, and then travelled to the ground, where the body was laying, his brown beard mucked with his blood, his green eyes staring into nothingness. “Good job,” Rave said, wiping his hands on his jeans as if he just carried a table into a room. “Sorry I was late,” I mumbled, trying not to stare so much at the body. “He works for the Miscreancy, right?” Rave nodded solemnly. “Sometimes they get humans to do their dirty work. It’s easier; humans fit in more, and they have lesser chance to get exposed. Unfortunately this guy was one of them.” I clenched the gun in my hand, just realizing how fast my heart was beating. “What are we going to do with the body?” Rave looked at me with serious eyes. “We’re going to have to dispose of it.” I looked at him, my eyes widening in horror. But then he cracked into a smirk. “I’m just kidding. We’re going to take the body out. The Miscreancy will know if a mission has failed, and they’ll send one of them to retrieve the body. For what they do with it afterwards, I have no idea.” I shivered. Was the Miscreancy really that cold-hearted? Well, duh, the word miscreancy meant evil; villainous; of course they were that cold-hearted. Then Rave started walking out the kitchen. “Hey, aren’t we going to move the body?” He stopped in his tracks and turned around, amused puzzlement on his face. “You mean you’re going to move the body, not me."
  9. I gave him a blank stare. "Excuse me?" Rave laughed under his breath. "It's a test. I'm not always going to be here for you. You need to learn how to do some things on your own, as practice." I put the gun down slowly on the table. "Are you seriously not going to help me drag this dead body that you just killed five minutes ago outside?" He nodded. "You need to learn not to rely on me when it comes to things like this." "You can't pull him halfway and then I'll do the rest?" Rave gave me a mocking smile. "Cute. I'll meet you outside." Then he walked forward again, and out the front doors. I waited for a minute or so, just to see if this was a joke and he would come back. To my misfortune it wasn't. He was serious, just like he said. I examined the body. The man looked maybe in his late forties, with a green beanie on his head and a flannel shirt under a green vest. He reminded me of a lumberjack, and the Paul Bunyan-like beard wasn't helping as much. I sighed. I've done worst.
  10. The man was heavy in my palms, even though he lay limp as a wet tablecloth. I pulled and tugged on his leg, accidentally hitting his head on the leg of the table. "Sorry," I murmured, out of impulse. I heaved the man through the swinging doors, one of them smashing into arm. "You know, maybe if you weren't so maniacal and homicidal then you wouldn't be in this situation," I told him pathetically, just trying to get my mind off the fact that I was pulling a dead man's body outside so that the Miscreancy could recapture him and do whatever their bloodthirsty brains could think of. Another tug, this time with a soft groan. I was by the stairs, two feet or so by the front door. Almost there, I said to myself. Just a few more pulls and— Where was that static noise that I've been hearing the whole time I've been here? I bit on my lip, straining for my ears to hear, as it was a reassurance, even though I had no idea what it was. Then I heard a door open. I froze in my tracks, digging my nails into the man's leg unintentionally. Then I heard a hum. A woman's hum. I backed up, heaving with all my might, trying to get the man through the door as quick as possible, my heartbeat quickening and my pulse racing— A crash! I squirmed on my feet as the vase lay in shrewd shapes across from me. "What the—" A scream. I turned around in horror, as the woman stood there on top of the stairs looking down upon me, with a bathrobe and a towel wrapped around her head like a turban. The lady from my vision. "Sh—t."

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