Do You Believe in a God? | CAMP CAMP AU

14 | I Don't Want To Die, Pt 2.

[TW: Brief mentions/implications of child s/a]

December 15, 2019

Harrison's lungs ached as he rolled over. He opened his eyes, instantly being blinded by the bright monochromatic whites of the surrounding area.

The room was bland and white, the cool-toned hospital lights making the room seem more sterile than it actually was. The room had five sets of bunk beds, Harrison could see each of his friends placed on them. Good lord.

"Guys..?" He said weakly. "Anybody?" His limbs felt like he was being pricked with pins as the rest of his body began to wake up, too.

Harrison heard a loud coughing before a disgruntled voice spoke up, "what..? Harrison?" Preston. Oh my god, Preston.

"Preston!" Harrison laughs, although he experiences minimal joy. He hears someone hit their head before loudly cursing. Neil.

"What the fuck?" Neil wheezed. "Shit, ow, ow, oooowww."

Various disembodied, painful groans were heard spread across the room.

Moments pass and the group finds themselves on the floor and surrounding lower bunks. Harrison doesn't remember how or when they got there due to still feeling woozy. Preston's arm is slung around his shoulder while Nerris sits next to him.

The group murmurs and mumbles, he thinks they're all still tired, pained, and confused. All their clothes are a stark, polished white. The masculine members of the group are in dress shirts, slacks, and dress shoes. The feminine members of the group are dressed very similarly, except in the place of slacks are maxi-length dresses.

Harrison's hands are wrapped tightly around the longer parts of hair that fall to the front of his shoulders, a nervous habit he thought he'd grown out of long ago. He feels guilty, like he should've known this was coming. But this isn't what he saw, he didn't know when they'd be kidnapped, he just knew that would.

He coiled in further on himself (if that was even possible) and began to tear up and whimper. "I should've seen this, I- I'm sorry, guys..- really..."

Nurf speaks first. "Cut the bullshit, Haz. If you didn't see it, you wouldn't have known." Nurf's 'of' comes out more like 'a', but who was Harrison to judge? Harrison noticed that Nurf's eyes were puffy and red, too, not unlike the rest. That alone pushed Harrison's unease.

"Yeah, what Nurf said. You got us far enough." Dolph quips, smiling weakly at him.

Neil sighs. "Knowing some is better than not knowing anything, I suppose." He adds begrudgingly.

"Yeah. What they said. You're plenty cool, Haz." The nickname was quite unfamiliar when it came out of Ered's mouth, but he needed the comfort.

Nerris coughs before they speak, too, their voice shaky. "You basically walked on hot coals for kids you've known for a maximum of two years!" Harrison's lip quivers.

Preston leans into him and whispers. "We love you, Harrison. I love you." The second half catches Harrison off guard, but he smiles at the sentiment, unaware of its double entendre.

"Thanks, guys, really.. you all are great, too, for uh- believing me." Harrison admits, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, hitting the arm of (the ever so forlorn looking) Preston.

Max scoffs, a determined smile on his face. "Once a Dayrage freak, always a Dayrage freak. Freaks stick together, magic kid. Now, let's get the hell out of here." Max stands and puts his hands on his hips, facing the windowless, slate gray door at one end of the room.

The group collectively stands and approaches the door. Max is about to attempt to open it, before somebody beats him to it. Somebody from the other side of the door.

The door opens properly to reveal a tall, slim, pale, redheaded kid with odd yellow or hazel eyes and acne scars and freckles coating his face. The embroidered name tag on his jacket (uniform?) reads Pikeman, Edward. His eyes are half-lidded and his lips are straight. In simpler words, his facial expression is very stoic as he looks at the group in what could also be disappointment.

"He wishes to see you lot." The kid says, his already gravelly voice strained in an unhealthy and tired manner. His arms are placed behind his back as if he was in a military march. He continues, keeping it brief. "Follow me."

Preston looked as shaken as Harrison felt, if not more. Don't trust him, his mind begged like a mantra.

They stalk behind the Pikeman fellow like albino ducklings following their neglectful chicken 'mother.' The halls are long and windy, but odd. Harrison can't shake the sense of familiarity he feels.

Harrison noticed Preston's outstretched hand, like the theater kid was asking for comfort. Harrison took his hand willingly, intertwining their fingers as their gazes kept mostly to the floor.

After walking for what feels like forever, they approach a set of double, windowless doors. Harrison thinks it's specifically those doors, but it's not.

Pikeman opens the door to reveal a larger room with four others. One being for sure Mr. Ravenport (or Daniel, as David has called him), a short and stocky kid with an eyepatch and matching uniform to Pikeman's, a tall guy (that looked like an adult man) with the same matching uniform, and David. David Tierney  Rosenthal.

The odd Pikeman guy leads them to the group at the other side of the room, standing next to Daniel. "I brought them, sir."

Daniel claps his porcelain-skinned hand on Pikeman's shoulder, causing Pikeman to flinch slightly. "Great, Eddie! Thank you. This is why you're my favorite."

Harrison can blatantly see the attempt at on-command dissociation in Pikeman's eyes as he looks at the ground in fear. "Not here, please," Pikeman mumbles.

Daniel removes his hand from Pikeman's shoulder as he eyes the group of teenagers. "Now, children, welcome to the family! It is time you finally learn your place in the universe. Let me tell you."

The man blabbers and speaks and talks for ages, and Harrison begins to think he loathes that more than the actual kidnapping. David looks at the ground in a mix of shame, pity, and what Harrison can only describe as self-hatred.

Harrison doesn't think any of the other campers believe his tales, either.