0 0 1 ━ [ 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯 ]

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟸𝟷: 𝙷𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚗

The rotted wooden door gave out a deafening creak as it swung open on its rusty hinges. One and Seven stood in the doorway, staring in at the unknown. After taking a deep breath, One was the first to enter.

A small hope had been boiling in her soul that she would walk in to find her long-lost family. Perhaps she'd find her father standing at the stove cooking a nice meal while her mother and siblings sat patiently around the dinner table. Maybe they'd all be huddled up on the couch in the living room watching their favorite show. Or perhaps they'd be on the other side of the next door she opened, standing with warm smiles and wide-open arms, waiting for her after all this time.

Instead, what she found was more darkness and decay. One found herself stuck in the doorway, her feet glued to the spot in disappointment. Seven pushed past her to get inside, having heard another strange sound.

Before them was a kitchen, with broken appliances and dusty counters. The black and white checkered floor was severely cracked to the point where plants had begun to grow through any open spaces. There was a table with three legs and four chairs, one of which was disassembled in pieces across the floor. But even in its terrible glory, it still felt strangely familiar to One.

"Are you going to help?" Seven asked before he began to throw open cupboard after cupboard in an attempt to find food. His stomach growled so loudly that One could hear it from the doorway.

"Yeah, sorry," One responded quickly, shaking herself out of her stupor. She joined Seven over by the pantry and together they began to salvage anything they could.

After the rummaging was complete, they found only a handful of items that still looked somewhat edible: two cans of tomato soup, a can of black olives, and a bag of popcorn. They washed the black grime off the cans and began to search for any utensils to open them. Seven yelled in triumph when he pulled open a drawer to find a knife and a box of matches.

One pounded the knife into the top of each can and slowly cut them open. Seven waited impatiently at her side, his hand ready to snatch a can the second it was fully open. The two greedily slurped down a can of room-temperature soup each and shared the can of olives. After they had gotten out every last drop, including the juice from the olives, they decided to explore the rest of the house for a place to sleep.