Young Writers Society

Bobby's gut sank. No one else knew where they were. Without really meaning to do it, he found himself inching behind Kazimir.

He said nothing as he tried to piece everything he knew together. None of the minor gangs really had the resources to pull something like this off, and it wasn't really the style of most of the major families. The Ringly's, maybe, but this group....no, it wasn't them.

His teeth scraped at his bottom lip - which was split and scabbed over - as he thought.

Kazimir narrowed his eyes at Lorcan, and turned his critical gaze to the two teens in brightly striped hoodies. No one knew where they were? Well if this wasn't some supernatural shit, he didn't know what it was.

"Well that's great," he said bitterly. "None of you know anything. Useless cosplayers." He looked back at Bobby, his tone changing immediately - softer, kinder, and far less angry.

"Let's get out of here, kid," he said to the boy. "See if there's anyone in town who's not a weirdo."

Bobby's gaze flicked over the others. They all looked kinda close to his age. That never went all that well for him.

He gave Kazimir a nod.

Lorcan didn't know what a cosplayer was, but he recognized the word - it had been used towards him before. And he knew what a weirdo was; that word was apparently universal.

He held his ground when the man narrowed his eyes at him, and held his ground when the man looked away. He knew he shouldn't have been letting the two go so easily, but he wasn't the oldest one here. Lorcan was tired of playing adult when he didn't have to.

He glanced over at the boy the man was with.

"We should stay together," Lorcan said, his tone much calmer than he actually felt. He had to keep a level head right now. Second wasn't here to strategize; Hero wasn't here to deal with the situation with brute force and magic. His gut was all he had right now, and staying together was the first thing that came to mind.

"We must have been brought here for a reason," he said. He reached up and undid his ponytail, having felt a cold chill on the back of his neck just a few seconds before. "We'll discover that reason sooner together."

He hesitated, giving the vampy guy a long look. He had fangs. Was he modified? If he was, then he was from a rich family, but Bobby didn't recognize him. Maybe he was from a different city? Or country, even, he supposed.

Regardless, he might have something of a point. Bobby looked to Kazimir.

Kazimir let his gaze slowly drift back to Lorcan. The vampire had a point, of course, but Kazimir wasn't going to act like he liked anything about this situation. He knew it was probably some weird voodoo shit that happened in the movies. Like that jungle game that came to life or something, but instead, it was in a town. What was it called? Jumanji?

Kazimir sighed and half-rolled his eyes.

"Okay. Fine. The name's Kazimir." He gestured down to the kid. "This is Bobby. Maybe together we can figure out our true destiny in this shit-hole town with the power of friendship."

He looked over to the two nameless teens with the colored streaks in their hair.

"I assume you're in the same boat too, goth girl and punk boy?"

"The name's Jack. And this here is Chloe." He said and they took a step closer. "And yeah, we're in. We can come along." He was being nice in spite of being called a weirdo. Kaz was lucky he didn't call Jack alone a weirdo. Boy, that would've been genocide. Chloe is one person in the world who you don't want to piss off. It's rather hard to piss her off though. It's just things about Jack that make her lose it so quick. Well, not about Jack as in things he does, but things people say about him.

When Kazimir looked away, Lorcan let out a quiet sigh he hoped no one heard. Kazimir definitely reminded him of Hero - even though Hero was probably half Kazimir's age. He wished Hero was here. Or any of his friends, for that matter. Everyone else seemed to have either ended up here in pairs or made one; Lorcan was the odd one out.

He looked back out at the town.

The sooner he figured out how they got here, the sooner he could get home. He took a whiff of the air - trying to determine if anything smelled off nearby. All he smelled was what he had smelled before: people and a mustiness that only came with age.

He wasn't going to be getting any clues with that.

"Maybe we should look inside the buildings," Lorcan suggested. He glanced back towards the church they were standing in front of. It didn't smell strange from the outside, but the mustiness inside could have been covering the scent of something else. "We could start with the church."

Chloe began to lead Jack to a building with a huge cross at the top, which she assumed was the church.

Kazimir looked back at the church behind him.

"'Kay," he said, turning around and gesturing for Bobby to follow close beside. He didn't want Bobby wandering too far. This place would give any normal person the creeps.

He stepped ahead of the teen couple and walked right up to the double doors, pushing them open. They were heavy, but he pushed hard, sending them swinging inside with force and causing some dust (or drywall) to trickle down from the top of the doorway.

Lorcan coughed as he stepped through the doorway, trying - and failing - to wave the dust away with his arm. When that failed, he let out one last irritated cough and stepped inside the darkness of the church. An uncomfortable feeling immediately settled in his chest. He didn't know why, but he wanted to leave the building as soon as he entered it.

He stepped back into the entrance way.

Peering into the darkness, he could make out empty, rotting pews. There was an altar up front; it was just as dusty and broken as everything else was in the church. If this church had ever been used, it certainly hadn't been used for a very long time.

Jack headed to the altar, closed his eyes, and muttered something under his breath in dedication. Chloe gave him a silly look. "Really? Very weird when you act religious. Respect is respect. You don't need to worship everything you-" Jack covered her mouth with his hand. "That's disrespectful," he said.

Bobby followed Kazimir into the church. A deep sense of unease mixed with the heavy dread in his chest, and it was suddenly hard to breathe right. He wanted to run, vanish, duck unseen into the anywhere else.

He'd always hated churches, they were big, greedy, creepy and unwelcoming, but this wasn't that. It was so, so much worse.

He backed out the door before he'd even taken his first few steps into the building.

While Jack went straight for the altar and both Lorcan and Bobby barely made it past the entrance, Kazimir walked in slowly, looking about the building with a calculating gaze. He was looking for threats, and anything that looked like it might crumble down on them if they breathed too hard. The building wasn't totally decrepit, but he didn't trust things to hold up. It didn't look like anyone had been here for a while. Even the pews were rotting, and it smelled like it.

The stench of mold, dust, and stale air was thick and disgusting. Kazimir wrinkled his nose. Something felt off, but it didn't feel so unsettling as it was enticing.

He looked back at Bobby, who'd stayed back at the doorway. The poor kid was scared.

"You stay there, kid. I can take a look around." Kazimir sent Bobby a small smile before looking up at Lorcan with an intense stare. If Lorcan laid a finger on Bobby for any reason he would lose that finger and something more.

He continued forward on light feet.

"See anything interesting," he asked Jack from down the aisle. "Or are you just gonna pray to the rotting wood?"

While Lorcan was grateful he wasn't the only one who didn't feel comfortable stepping into the church, he wished the boy had followed Kazimir all the way in. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say to him - it didn't seem like the boy wanted to talk to him badly.

Lorcan's stomach made a noise again.

A blush spreading across his cheeks - that grumble had definitely be audible to the boy - he raised a hand up to his stomach. He was hungry. He should have eaten instead of exploring the attic. If he had, then he would have at least had something in his stomach now.

...Was there anything he could eat here? Maybe one of the houses had something. He wouldn't find anything in this church; that much was clear. But maybe, just maybe-

His stomach grumbled once more.

The blush deepened.