As the final six stumbled through the darkness, suddenly they were surrounded by a flurry of disaster that they could only hear. The gasping howl of a tornado tore through the hallway, grabbing samantha97 and flinging her against the nearest doorframe, where she fell motionless. The rushing wind of a freight train breezed by several of the others until it smashed into Chronopie, flattening him to the floor in a bloody mess. As those still on their feet were scampering out of the way, a crackling the sounded an awful lot like lightning snapped through the air around Benmage, who collapsed on the spot with a thud. Scattering now, the last three split in different directions to avoid whatever was out there. PeregrineV attempted to sidle along the side of the hallway, but a rolling stampede slammed him right through the wall into the control room on the other side. SSF352 rolled past samantha97's body into the room across the hall, only to meet the crack of a sledgehammer impacting his face. The last one standing, Bogre, dashed into the darkness, but a shockwave followed him, ripping the tiling up until a rift lifted the floor ahead of him and swallowed him into the crack.
Then, it went quiet.
The first to come awake was the oldest of them all, the one known as Mr. Blue. Feeling around himself, he managed to find a breaker box that reset the room's circuits, producing a dim flickering light that allowed him to get his bearings. He was surrounded by crackling electronics that were slowly attempting to reboot, and his own body was covered in dust, so much that his suit nearly matched his greying hair. He didn't seem to have any external injuries, but the pain he felt in his chest indicated he might have some internal bleeding. Hearing faint movement outside the hole in the wall, he peeked out carefully to see what was going on.
Three more men in suits could be seen sprawled out in the hallway. The closest was Mr. Brown, whose jutting chin was blotched with burn scars. He looked stunned, and grabbed his head in agony as he slowly shook it as if to clear his jumbled brains. Mr. Brown slowly pushed himself up and dragged his body vertical, leaning against the wall. As he looked down he saw the twitching figure of Mr. Orange, whose entire chest was covered in his own blood. The man's hair was nearly as red as the pool around him, and he rolled over slowly onto his stomach, groaning in pain. As he tried to stand, the third man struggled over to help him. Mr. Pink had gotten up from where he had impacted the doorframe, and he lifted Mr. Orange by the shoulders to get him to his feet. Mr. Blue climbed through the wall to help them as the four stuggled to support each other.
A flick and a snap grabbed their attention to the other room, and Mr. Brown peered around the corner to see what was making the noise. Despite his broken nose, Mr. Blonde was calmly lighting a cigarette as he lay on the floor of the laboratory. Seeing that he didn't seem worried about any injuries, the others looked around for any sign of the last member of their group of escapees. A slight moan drew them down the hallway where the floor was cracked and uneven. Mr. Pink and Mr. Brown, the most mobile of the quartet, made their way over to the split in the floor, where they found a several foot drop to a mess of concrete and dirt. At the bottom was Mr. White, his two handguns laying around him in the mess. Reaching upward, he grabbed the hands of the two above him and was lifted free of the wreckage. It was only then that they realized they'd been returned to their original forms, at least visually. All six regrouped at the other end of the hallway and begin their trek for freedom once again.
That's when the bickering started.
No one died Night 7.
It is now Day 8. With 6 alive, it takes 4 to lynch.
Deadline: Thursday, December 15th, 6:00 PM CST
