Corpse Party (Blizzy)

[Waffu-Waffu]

(This may contain content disturbing to younger viewers and those who don't like horror; if you are squeamish or under the age of 16, I suggest you not read this.)

Xaviera

Xaviera had woken up groggy and with a terrible pounding in her head. It was like the feeling of being sick on Monday morning before having to go to school, and if there was anything she would have liked at that moment, Tylenol and water would be near the top of the list. Her wide black eyes opened slowly as her senses came back to her, and she realized that as shitty as her apartment was, this dump wasn’t it. It was dusty and old, and the debris she breathed in was burning her lungs with each breath. Then came the smell of blood and rotten flesh that her perceptive nose couldn’t miss, and she shot up immediately, her hands covering her nose along with the ends of her sleeves. She coughed in an attempt to get the taste of the rancid air out of her mouth, but it was now stuck on her taste buds.

Without removing her pale hands from her face, the white haired female rose to her feet and she took a look around. She was in a classroom with small desks and childish school supplies scattered all around. The floor was weathered and broken in several spots, and she wasn’t sure how she was still being supported on the peninsula of flooring that held her body up, but she was glad she didn’t eat that last donut the day before. That wasn’t all though, she saw white bones all over the place that were bleached white having been there for a long time, and she also located the source of the rotten flesh scent.

A body of a boy, maybe a little younger or older then her, was there, his face smashed in and pieces of his skull and brain along with copious amounts of blood, rendering him almost unrecognizable. His body was still fresh, only a few weeks old, but it had been rotting for all that time, and she could see the little maggots and flies crawling all over him. She saw his black hair and long body, and she snatched his name tag up off his body, her heart racing in anticipation and fear as she tried to make out the language his nametag was in. It read, from what she could guess from her little experience in Japanese, Hiroshi Nakazuma, and she was able to released a sigh of relief. She was glad that it wasn’t Zane…anyone but him…

She turned her dark gaze to the window across the room. It was attached to another room, and she could see straight through, but as she walked over and pulled at it with her hands, she found it was immovable. Her fingers ghosted across the cool surface, and with sudden brute strength, she slammed her fist into it in an attempt to break the glass, but her knuckles slammed into what felt like a wall, and a pained wail came from her throat as she held her hand, which was now bleeding from the impact, and the knuckle bone of her pinkie and ring finger were now absent, and when she tried to move those two fingers, there was a shock of pain up her arm. “Damnit...” she hissed and she held it close to her chest in a weak attempt to nurse it without medicine, “Broke them…” It wasn’t a new injury, but with no knowledge of how to fix them, the wound would prove to be troublesome.

Zane… The girl realized that her friend was nowhere in sight. Her tiny fangs bit her bottom lip in anxiety and she looked through the deceiving window in hope to find him in the other room. “…Maybe…I should leave him a note…” Her feet, clad in red converse, pattered across the floor quickly as she went to the board and wrote her note out for him in her messy handwriting before leaving the room to find medical aid.

“Zane: I’m going to find the nurse’s office...Please, if you see this come find me…I’m injured and I don’t know where we are.” At the end, her name was signed in the artistic signature she always had, the ‘x’ was capital and had elegant swerves that seemed to hug the rest of her name to it in an interlocking pattern of letters. Right below it, in the smallest print she could manage, she had written out a short postscript. “It’s cold too…Could I borrow your jacket…?”

[FENRIS]

Zane

It was the smell of school that awoke Zane from his deep slumber, the smell that he despised and avoided for many a years but somehow had come back with a vengeance. He wasn't exactly the 'sit in a classroom and listen to a teacher kind of student', more of the 'come to school half-drunk and flirt with all the girls then get kicked out for lighting lockers on fire' kind of student. Yup, that boy was a real go-getter alright. Many would wonder why he was still in fact at school but even he didn't have a reason why. The attention maybe? He loved being in the spotlight after all and what better way than to set fire to things at a public area?

When the young man opened his icy blue eyes to see a school but not the kind he expected. It was old and run-down like it had been abandoned for several years. It smelled awful as well, like something died in it. He was in a classroom with chairs and desks still in neat little lines as well as a teacher's desk in the front. Behind it were two chalkboards that, minus the dust, were ready to be written on. It took a bit for him to get up off his back but when he did he noticed the door slid like ones in Japan. Funny, he didn't remember ever going to Japan simply because he didn't know the language and of his silly fear of Godzilla. But lo and behold he was in a school that seemed far too Japanese for his own comfort, oh man he hoped Godzilla wasn't real.

Zane rose from his spot and stretched his long body, his tail flicking from side to side like a cat's, before rubbing an eye and suddenly wondering where Xaviera happened to be. He could have sworn he was with her before all this happened but she was nowhere to be seen. And judging by the cold nip in the air she would have already pulled his hoodie off and wrapped herself in it but it was still loosely hanging off his lanky frame. It's a good thing she didn't take it, he thought, he was cold himself. He didn't like this place one bit so a little comfort from his hoodie would help him tons.

Soon the realization that he was alone in a foreign place set in and Zane found himself shaking in fear. He quickly made his way to a corner of the room and curled up like a scared dog, his hood covering his face, his ears flat to his head, and his tail between his legs. Small wimpers left his mouth as his teeth chattered. The boy closed his eyes tight and wished for this to all be a dream but it just wouldn't go away with how many times he reopened them, as the darkness left he saw that same rotting wood of the wall and knew he was still there. He didn't want to be there, he wanted to be home with Xaviera and watching movies together while cuddling on the coach. He missed her attitude whenever he did something dumb and the way her hair stood on end whenever she got mad and, and, ... Did he love more than just her company?

No, he couldn't. He swore off relationships. If he was in a relationship he couldn't get with any girl he liked or stay out drinking all night. He'd have to actually be nice to people for longer than a few days and talk to them even after sex. No, he was just scared and thinking irrationally because of his situation. Xaviera was just a friend and hard to get. Once he got her he'd leave and go somewhere new and exciting to meet more women. Wouldn't he? For some reason he couldn't, all he saw was him and that white haired girl together and... happy? No, no no no! Zane smushed his hands to his face and hissed. He was going crazy already, how was he going to last here?

[Waffu-Waffu]

Xaviera

Xaviera was a stubborn creature and she wouldn’t admit her feeling even to herself. Her body spoke a story that he mouth wouldn’t tell. Her hair was spiked as she wandered through the halls, her hand was cradled against her larger-than-normal bosom, and she was trying her hardest not to shake as she took each step. The flesh of her hand was starting to puff up and bruise as she wandered around, looking for the Nurse’s room. All she could hope was that Zane would find her message and follow her directions.

That boy…She gave a soft sigh as she turned a corner. He would be the death of her; he was such a scaredy cat that she was the one protecting him more often than not. She knew he was capable of protecting himself if he out his mind to it, but he tended to hide behind her if he was in any trouble. Perhaps it was the fact that not many would hit a girl, but it was more likely that he knew that Xaviera would jump anyone that came too close to her in an aggressive fashion. With her higher than average strength, the poor bastards usually didn’t know what hit them. She also had to protect herself pretty often a well; he try to stand up for her when he brought her to bars and someone tried to hit on her, but more often than not, he was with some floozy on the other side of the bar. She did notice he was getting better about it though, and they would even spend some free nights at home just watching a movie or something of the sort with just themselves. It was nice and she found herself snuggled right up next to him a few times. The poor thing was probably scared half to death without her being there

It was infuriating that he had such an influence over her thoughts, and with a low growl, she grabbed her hair and pulled a bit to try to rid herself of those gentle thoughts. He just wanted to get into her pants and then he’d forget about her and leave; that’s just how men worked. With a hiss, she kicked a few small boards and children’s school supplies out of the way and sent them flying through the air and into some of the holes of the floorboards.

Eventually, she found her way to the Nurse’s office and thankfully, it was open and she could go in and fix herself up, not that she knew how. Zane was always the one who fixed her up when she got home after a scuffle if she didn’t need to go straight to the hospital. She made her way in and found it empty and safe to enter for the most part. She went straight to the medical supplies that lined the shelf and began to dress her wounds as quickly as possible. The place was giving her the creeps…

She grabbed a bottle on the shelf in a familiar brown bottle, and gave it a slight turn. It was about to drip on her hand when her instincts screamed at her to stop. She listened to them, and immediately tested the liquid out on the floor. The drops fell to the wooden surface, and immediately began to sizzle and eat through the wood, creating a few circular holes on the ground that led into the darkness below. With a yelp, she dropped the bottle, creating a bigger hole with the acid, and scrambled back.

What sort of sicko would do that?

A shiver ran up her spine and she whimpered before grabbing a pair of scissors in the other cabinet and a roll of bandages and tongue depressors to make a rough splint for her hands. She set to work fixing it up. She worked quickly, but when she went to tear the bandages when she was finished, she found them difficult to tear, and opted to cut them with the scissors. Her fingers wrapped around them gently and upend the rusted blades when she felt something grab onto her hand. She couldn’t see the force though, but her hand was forcefully turned towards her chest, and pushed towards where her beating heart was resting.

She strained to keep the blades from imbedding in her chest and severely injuring her, but whatever was trying to cause the injury was stronger than even her, and her strength was wearing out quickly. She bit her lip and relented, but redirected the blades towards her arm with the broken knuckles, where they stabbed into her upper bicep and became imbedded in her pale flesh. She barely contained her scream of pain, but the force let go of the blade, and she fell back on her rump, the metal still there. Her arms trembled violently with the pain, and a few tears came to her eyes, but she made a wild dash from her spot and to the door.

Her instincts again screamed at her to stop before she opened the door, and she once again listened. Her black eyes travelled up the door, where a bucket of unknown liquid sat upon the slightly jarred door. She bit her lip and took a step away from it, not wanting to take a chance on the seemingly harmless trick. She took a deep breath and looked around, trying to figure her way out of the mess she got herself into with as little stress on her injured arm as possible.