CSI: We're so very close to the end of the lab chapters for now, I can't wait to get onto writing the Avengers, they're like the only group of fictional characters I feel I can write well at all.
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Sunday, 26th April 2015
CASEY SITS AT THE FOOT OF HER BED, legs curled up to her chest and arms wrapped around them tightly. Her chin rests somewhat comfortably on her knees as she processes everything that happened in the Box. She ignores the first day, not wanting to relive that panic, and focuses on the second. She'd stood on a portal, and she'd held onto one; Casey isn't sure how that is even possible, accepting it in the Box was necessary, but accepting it now is out of the question because she can't wrap her head around it.
It makes no sense.
Casey has been in her room since the soldiers collected her from the Box. She remembers hearing voices last night. They were distant but not as distant as the children's cries, so she had only picked up a few words. From what Casey gathered, something will be different about her training.
It scares her slightly. She has known that the lab will return to its old ways, but she expected to have a little longer in this new way. It's going back to the old way, and she doesn't want it to, at least not yet.
If it goes back to the old way, surely that means Everley will go, too, right? Casey thinks it's true; she doesn't want it to happen. She's only known Everley for less than a day; she needs a little more time.
A plan forms in her mind; if she can somehow pick the lock, she can sneak across the hall and into Everley's room, just to check in on her. It'll just be for a few minutes, she doubts the soldiers will even realise she's left her room.
With a half-formed plan and determination, Casey slides off her bed and rolls beneath it, swiftly grabbing the switchblade and rolling out. Before she's finished rolling, Casey sits up, pushing herself to her feet in one swift motion. She flicks out the blade, a soft sound echoing through the silence, and slips it into the lock.
Casey shifts it around, waiting for the lock to click like it does when the soldiers unlock her door. It takes a minute, but, eventually, the door unlocks. Casey puts the blade away and tucks it in the waistband of her leggings, keeping her t-shirt and jacket over it to keep it hidden.
Carefully, Casey twists the doorknob, wanting to keep from making too much unnecessary noise, and pulls the door open just enough for her to slip out into the corridor. Engulfed in a somewhat terrifying darkness, Casey shuts the door and walks toward the first door she sees. Her footsteps are silent, though her heart feels as though it is in her throat and she can hear it thumping loudly. Her breaths are slow, having decided to keep them manageable before they get too fast.
