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Entry tags:
THE FINAL DAY.
THE FINAL DAY
SURVIVORS: 11 ♫
At 8:00AM on Sunday, all remaining residents will be roused from their beds. It's not the rough awakening that everyone received on Friday morning, but rather, it is gentle.
It calls you home.
Hild is nowhere to be found, and the hotel is still, silent, at least until 9:00AM, when the Manager's voice, once again, crackles over the PA system.
"You know where to go. I will see you there."
And without prompting, all remaining residents will head outside (and those who don't feel like going will still be pulled in that direction almost involuntarily)-- however, the beach gate that you usually use on Sundays is not what calls you today. Where you are called towards, instead, is out the locked entrance on the opposite end, the one that for the longest time refused to yield under any attempts to break it.
The gate opens - and at least one of you would be familiar with this place. The sand gives way to rock formations and paths where the beach ends, and a shrine looms in the distance after the fog that usually covers the area parts, and all residents will have to walk through some bamboo posts with flags forming a walkway to reach their final destination: a clearing, one that contains a well with a broken seal.
Instead of waiting with the spectators like she usually does, the Manager is at the well itself, perched on the edge of it, a long, thin sword in her hands.
When everyone has arrived, the fog surrounds them once again, cutting off any attempts at accessing an exit, or the clearing itself. Ominously, thunder roars in the distance.
"With this final death, this final payment-- one more death to end it all, as they say. It is time."
It calls you home.
Hild is nowhere to be found, and the hotel is still, silent, at least until 9:00AM, when the Manager's voice, once again, crackles over the PA system.
And without prompting, all remaining residents will head outside (and those who don't feel like going will still be pulled in that direction almost involuntarily)-- however, the beach gate that you usually use on Sundays is not what calls you today. Where you are called towards, instead, is out the locked entrance on the opposite end, the one that for the longest time refused to yield under any attempts to break it.
The gate opens - and at least one of you would be familiar with this place. The sand gives way to rock formations and paths where the beach ends, and a shrine looms in the distance after the fog that usually covers the area parts, and all residents will have to walk through some bamboo posts with flags forming a walkway to reach their final destination: a clearing, one that contains a well with a broken seal.
Instead of waiting with the spectators like she usually does, the Manager is at the well itself, perched on the edge of it, a long, thin sword in her hands.
When everyone has arrived, the fog surrounds them once again, cutting off any attempts at accessing an exit, or the clearing itself. Ominously, thunder roars in the distance.