2011-05-17, 10:41 PM
#7
. . . fill his backpack with a few books and search for her.
The man looks down at the book sitting next to him. It has a very strange presence about it--as if beckoning him to open it once more. But a stronger feeling inside his heart keeps him from giving in: the desire to find his missing companion. He gets up and grabs his backpack and heads toward the door. However, before he can open it, he feels the need to look at the bookcase one last time. The books are too mysterious to leave... He rushes back over and grabs the book on the floor and a few others from the shelves at random, as many as his backpack can hold.
As he opens the door, the man is overwhelmed by an unexpected stench. He quickly turns on his flashlight, terrified of what he might see. But there is only the same vast darkness. No clues. No traces of anything. The odor thickly permeates the air, and he has trouble breathing comfortably. The man wanders aimlessly, hoping for any sign the woman may have left behind. He quickly finds it harder and harder to continue. The smell clogs his lungs and his heavy backpack weighs him down. He collapses to his knees and tries to catch his breath. The darkness suddenly feels more threatening as it closes in around him. He spins around, frantically pointing the light in every direction.
Nothing.
He struggles to his feet and continues his search. Sweat runs down his entire body. Exhaustion from continuous walking, his heavy load and the thick air beat him down. Harder and harder. Desperate, the man opens his backpack and takes out one of the bottles. Examining the contents with the light, he decides it's safe to drink and gulps it down. The liquid quenches his thirst even better than he could have hoped and renews his spirit. And in the moment, he catches a glimpse of something unpleasant on the ground: blood. Fresh blood.
The man notices more drops of it leading away from the source. His mind tells him to flee. To run far away. But the worry that it may be the blood of his companion defeats all rational thought. For some reason, he feels he can't let go of her now. He has so many questions to ask her. He carefully follows the drops of blood on the ground. They lead him deeper into the unknown, slowly growing smaller and less frequent...until coming to a complete stop. At the end of the trail of blood lies a knife, its blade glistening crimson in the light. Frightened, the man shuts off his flashlight and quietly listens into the darkness.
His ears pick up a familiar dripping sound in the distance. However, the man catches a hint of another noise, much fainter. Almost like...rocks tumbling down a cliff. Focusing on the directions of the sounds, he turns his flashlight back on and stares at the knife resting by his feet. And then he . . .
---
A) Heads toward the dripping, leaving the knife behind.
B) Heads toward the dripping, taking the knife with him.
C) Heads toward the falling rocks, leaving the knife behind.
D) Heads toward the falling rocks, taking the knife with him.
---
To five.
. . . fill his backpack with a few books and search for her.
The man looks down at the book sitting next to him. It has a very strange presence about it--as if beckoning him to open it once more. But a stronger feeling inside his heart keeps him from giving in: the desire to find his missing companion. He gets up and grabs his backpack and heads toward the door. However, before he can open it, he feels the need to look at the bookcase one last time. The books are too mysterious to leave... He rushes back over and grabs the book on the floor and a few others from the shelves at random, as many as his backpack can hold.
As he opens the door, the man is overwhelmed by an unexpected stench. He quickly turns on his flashlight, terrified of what he might see. But there is only the same vast darkness. No clues. No traces of anything. The odor thickly permeates the air, and he has trouble breathing comfortably. The man wanders aimlessly, hoping for any sign the woman may have left behind. He quickly finds it harder and harder to continue. The smell clogs his lungs and his heavy backpack weighs him down. He collapses to his knees and tries to catch his breath. The darkness suddenly feels more threatening as it closes in around him. He spins around, frantically pointing the light in every direction.
Nothing.
He struggles to his feet and continues his search. Sweat runs down his entire body. Exhaustion from continuous walking, his heavy load and the thick air beat him down. Harder and harder. Desperate, the man opens his backpack and takes out one of the bottles. Examining the contents with the light, he decides it's safe to drink and gulps it down. The liquid quenches his thirst even better than he could have hoped and renews his spirit. And in the moment, he catches a glimpse of something unpleasant on the ground: blood. Fresh blood.
The man notices more drops of it leading away from the source. His mind tells him to flee. To run far away. But the worry that it may be the blood of his companion defeats all rational thought. For some reason, he feels he can't let go of her now. He has so many questions to ask her. He carefully follows the drops of blood on the ground. They lead him deeper into the unknown, slowly growing smaller and less frequent...until coming to a complete stop. At the end of the trail of blood lies a knife, its blade glistening crimson in the light. Frightened, the man shuts off his flashlight and quietly listens into the darkness.
His ears pick up a familiar dripping sound in the distance. However, the man catches a hint of another noise, much fainter. Almost like...rocks tumbling down a cliff. Focusing on the directions of the sounds, he turns his flashlight back on and stares at the knife resting by his feet. And then he . . .
---
A) Heads toward the dripping, leaving the knife behind.
B) Heads toward the dripping, taking the knife with him.
C) Heads toward the falling rocks, leaving the knife behind.
D) Heads toward the falling rocks, taking the knife with him.
---
INVENTORY
To five.