After passing through several halls and turning corners, Vincent couldn't possibly keep track of how to get back out. The fact that Tabitha could possibly manage it did impress him, but he still didn't like her.
"This place used to be a church," she said, out of the blue. 'Fascinating,' was Vincent's first thought, but it probably wouldn't be good to say that out loud.
"Interesting," Vincent replied instead, without any emotion whatsoever. It was almost the same thing, but much less sarcastic. Tabitha didn't turn her head or react at all, but he could tell that she wasn't pleased with his answer by the way her posture stiffened in the slightest way.
Finally, they entered a cold cement room that was almost completely dark. There was a scratch, and then a 'fwoosh' as Tabitha lit a match and bent over a candle that rested on the only furniture in the room, a wooden table. She shook out the match and glanced about the room as the candle continued to provide a dim light. Vincent could see some stairs leading up to a heavy double door that was in the ceiling, rather than in the wall, like in a bomb shelter or that place in the ground that you would find in a place like Kansas for shelter against tornadoes. He had no idea what those were called, unless they were named bomb shelters.
Tabitha interrupted his wayward thoughts. "Go up through the doors there," she instructed, pointing to the double door he had just been thinking about. Vincent walked over to it obediently and pressed his hands against it to open it. The heavy wood banded with iron didn't budge, so he glanced back at Tabitha as he began to back down the stairs. "Looks like they're stu--"
"What are you doing? Get back up there and open those doors!" she exclaimed, interrupting him. Vincent frowned, but was careful not to make a face, in case he pissed her off. A growing pit in his stomach told him that she wasn't the kind of person she had tried to show she was.
He stepped up to the door again and shoved his shoulder against it, pushing softly at first then pretty hard as it continued to be difficult. He could at least hear the creak and squeal of the wood escaping its tight-hold and rubbing against the other. Without warning, the doors flew open and then came back down, striking him in the head and shoulder. He shrank back in pain and held his head as it pulsed and throbbed. His previous head injury from only two days before made itself known quite clearly.
Vincent felt the woman's hands on his arms, gently prying them away, and then shoving him out the doors as she held them open for him. He stepped out, eager to get away from her awkward touch.
Looking around, Vincent was outside in a forest and surrounded by chain link fences all around, which were all solid except for straight ahead of the bomb shelter, where there was a gate that looked like it was operated by wires and pulleys. Vincent turned his head to trace the wires to their origin, which was a hand-wheel next to the doors. His gaze landed on Tabitha, who had her hand resting on the wheel.
"We're strict here. We have set out a discipline system that works quite well." Tabitha tapped the wheel with what looked like fondness. Vincent's eyebrows felt like they were meeting with his hairline, they were up so high. "Everyone here has had a taste of what it's like, Mr. Soretto. Don't feel like you're getting singled out."
Vincent held his hands out at his sides, taking a step towards her as he attempted to reason with her. "This is insane! You really aren't thinking things out . . . what if . . . I get bit, or scratched?" He continued, but it began to sound like gibberish. The older woman ignored him completely as she cranked the wheel.
As she cranked, it made a screeching sound, the sound of metal against metal. It wasn't necessarily loud, but it was still noise. Vincent paled and turned around to watch the gate as it opened. He considered pulling Tabitha out or breaking her arm or something, but no doubt the people here would put him right back in the spot he was in now. Besides that, she had pulled the doors shut and disappeared inside. The fence to his side shook as a corpse pushed itself against it and let out a gutteral snarl.
Being trapped in the small fenced off area, becoming surrounded by corpses, with the only exit being blocked by more of them coming was overwhelming. Claustrophobia began to kick in, and it was dizzying and confusing.
Perhaps he could push through the exit and be done with this place for forever? Genius idea . . . why hadn't he thought of it before? Tearing his eyes away from the side of the fenced-in area, he bolted toward the gate only to bounce off more fencing and land flat on the ground. He stared up at the canopy of leaves above, utterly baffled. A strange but welcome calmness closed over him and he shut his eyes and gave in to the darkness.
. . . . . . . . .
Yeeeeaaaah, this definitely wasn't updated a week after my last one. I'll give it an honest try this time, though.
The idea for this part was taken from a book and I know unoriginality isn't cool but that part in the book is just pure genius, I couldn't resist. Also, I didn't mean to also take one of the character's names from it. It was honestly coincidental. My point is that I'm trying to put up a disclaimer for the idea.
Seeing that this has gotten 20 reads makes me super excited! x'D (forever alone....)
