Stranded - The Manor of Mystery

At one point he sat on the floor. Girl was losing interest. He was staring at the candle. Someone told him it calms a person. He started humming...
Is she weird, is she white
Is she promised to the night
 
Alexa looked over, and saw him sitting there, humming. The tune was familiar. . . .

All of a sudden, her stomach gave way to a giant rumble. That's right, she had been at home, eating macroni and cheese, texting plans with a friend when she passed out and woke up here. She highly doubted that her mac and cheese was in the room.

"Do you have any food?" she asked him quietly.
 
Her voice abrupted his train of...
"Yes."
He was focusing on the question. He knew something was on his mind.
"Food. I believe so."
She was still waiting for a more appropriate answer.
"I have some... food. It's that meat rolled in a green stuff."
His housekeeper always made him that. He was always afraid to try it.
She was of Serbian nationality she always told him.
"Jedi ovo i nećeš biti tako bled. Vidi sav si neuhranjen." and then she pinched his cheeks.
"It's probably okay. I just never tasted it. I saw it lying on a platter on the table. Feel free to eat it all."
 
Smiling, she went over to the tray and picked it up. Sniffed it. Started eating one.

"Oh my," she said. "This is delicious!"

She walked back over to him and handed him one. "Here, try it," she encouraged.
 
He took a bite and it was fine, but with a weak appetite he only ate one.
"Thanks."
A dinner with candles. He started to laugh. He remembered. Woman always left a bottle of some strange alcohol. But like the food he never drank it.
"There is a bottle of alcohol somewhere in my room. You could clean your wounds with it."
 
She smiled and shook her head. "They're just sore muscles and a couple of bruises. I'll be fine. Thank you though."

She got up and stretched. "So, I still don't know your name," she remarked as she went down into the splits.
 
"It's Durc... Durcet."
Looking at her as she stretched it aroused him. She was well built. But there was not much he can do.
 
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Durcet! NOW she remembered him. Quiet man, never really seemed to know what to do with her during her outbreaks of anger.

As she continued stretching, she sighed. "Been a long time since we last saw each other, huh?" she asked casually.
 
He was still infatuated by her stretching. He tried to fight it but he found her very attractive.
For him it was an awful thing to think about so his mind was trying to go anywhere but there.
He noticed she asked him something but hi didn't know what. He tried to answer as vaguely as possible in order to avoid sounding weird.
"Probably."
He tried staring ceiling in order to avoid feeling aroused. If it went any further it would start to show. He started thinking. All this time he taught she was dead. He taught it was his fault.
"So you got better?"
 
"Durc, I have a disorder, of course I'm not better. I regulate it with medication and go to therapy," she said. "It doesn't happen nearly as bad as it did before."
 
(OOC) Wow, I didn't realize how popular this had become. It didn't have replies for the longest time so I kind of abandoned it. A special "update" will be coming later tonight as soon as I catch up with your character's actions. :)
 
Aldous was in a dark room, illuminated only by the dozens of monitors on the far wall. He watched as three of his houseguests had awoken and begun exploring their cramped surroundings. His excitement having reached it's peak for the time being, he decided it was time to set them free and let them begin exploring the mansion as a whole.

He scooted his rickety old chair on wheels over to the far panel below the monitors and found the microphone. His wrinkled old finger pressed the button. Clearing his throat, he addressed the group.

"Hello, everybody." He said slowly, with a tinge of laughter. "You may have found that the doors to your rooms have been locked from the outside... I suggest trying them once more. Perhaps... a different result you will find. For now... that is all." He cackled to himself as he let go of the button and moved away from the microphone. He watched as they sprung to life, looking for the source of his voice.

Aldous was ingenious. He had cameras and microphones hidden everywhere within the sprawling mansion; he wanted to be prepared for this little experiment of his.
 
Alexa glanced around the room, confused. And slightly scared. And angry. Who was speaking? Where from?

"WHO ARE YOU?" she yelled. "WHO ARE YOU YOU HWOON DAHN*?!"

She hadn't felt this scared since she held that knife in her hands, her heart pounding, everything dizzy, crimsom blood spilling. . .

*hwoon dahn- asshole
 
Durc heard someone speaking. The sound was coming from the walls. Whoever spoke was possibly in a different room speaking through the speakers. It was no use to try and track his voice.
The girl was shouting. She had a small outbreak of anger, but that was completely understanding for the situation.
"What did he said? I couldn't understand him, the voice was incomprehensible."
Girl was breathing heavily. She seemed angry and shocked.
 
Alexa heard Durcet speak, and she realized what was happening.

It was just like back at the psych ward.

She took deep breaths, calming down. "He said that if we tried to open the doors again, we might find a different result," she replied to his question.

She walked into the room she had been placed in, and searched it. Nothing.

"Durcet. . ." she said slowly, coming out of her room. "I don't have my meds."

Her hands were shaking.
 
"Different results doesn't mean good results. We shouldn't trust that voice."
Her hands started shaking. He grabbed her gently by the hands to try and calm her down.
"It's okay. Take a deep breath. I have mine. We were in the same psych ward so it could be that my medication might work. I stopped taking mine half a year ago. It just didn't feel right to me. That could be the reason he left them. Nothing of my belongings seem to have any use for me."
 
Alexa nodded, liking his hands in hers for the moment. It was soothing, knowing that he knew somewhat what to do.

"We can try your meds," she said. "Do you have anything other than alcohol in here to take them with?"
 
Water. It was the only thing he drank. He loved bottled water. It was the only thing he actually liked and enjoyed. He always had it with himself. But not today. He searched for it, looked in every corner.
"I always carry it with myself." he was upset.
"There is one thing that could used as a water substitute. If we can collect enough spit in my palm you can... drink that." He looked her with sadness.
"It... could be worse."
 
"I... don't... remember."
He was thinking really hard.
"Read the label. I usually took them by free measurement."
 
Alexa picked up his meds and squinted to read them in the dim light.

"Only 500mg?" she wondered aloud. "Alright, three of them, then."

She managed to swallow the meds without any liquid aid, gagging as she did so.

"Dear sweet baby Jesus," she sputtered, hitting her chest hard with her fist. "I hope these work. I do not want another episode, like what happened at the psych ward."
 
"Relax." He was nervous. If medication don't kick in, there's a gun in the room and something might go wrong. He hugged her with compassion. He gently brushed her hair.
"It's going to be fine." Maybe outside wouldn't be so bad. He had to move her from that gun.
"Do you want to leave this room?" He was scared of even thinking about it but it was something that had to be done.
 
Alexa hugged him back, thankful that he was helping her. "Yeah, might as well," she said.

She walked over to the door, hesitantly put her small hand on it, turning it. . .

The door creaked open a little bit, enough to allow blinding light through.

"SON OF A BITCH!" she yelled, startled.

Bright lights. . . another memory of the psych ward. . .

Doctors joking among themselves about her. . .

Bright light bright light don't feed her after midnight

She shielded her eyes, wishing that she had a pair of sunglasses.
 
"If you mind the strong light have these."
He handed her the Roy Orbinson glasses.
"I don't have any use for them. I found them in my pocket."
The glasses were thick black. With his weak sight they were too much for him.
 
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