TSF - Episode 1: Art of War!

[®onnie ®ude]

{name:GANTZ MOD#|#picture:0}

T E A M
SOUTHERN
F O L K

_PRESENTS...

^{-EPISODE ONE-
"ART _of WAR"}

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The floor is worn and outdated. It creeks and the sound of footsteps resonate throughout the hall, welcoming the man and woman that reach the top of the stairs. The corridor is long and doors line the walls to their left and right. At the end of the hall there is a window and the sun visibly shines through; the view through it is beautiful.

The man gets ahead of the woman and she walks quickly down the hall to catch up with him. He stops abruptly and she almost bumps into him. He turns and smiles at her, gesturing toward the door.

“And here we are,” He announces. “Room 202.”

He fishes in his pocket and retrieves a set of keys on a keyring. They jingle as he shuffles through them. He finds the key he needs and inserts it into the lock. He turns the key and twists the knob several times, but the door does not budge. He looks to the woman, and her arms are crossed, showing her impatience. He laughs, despite his frustration. He gives the door another try, ramming his shoulder into it. It still doesn’t budge, and he sighs.

“Is something wrong?” she asks.

“It’s happening again,” He responds, smacking his teeth. “This damn door is stuck again.”

“Again?” She reiterates. “Ever thought of replacing it?”

“I did.” He insists. “Last month, and the month before last.” He sighs once again. “I just don’t get it.”

The man looks lost in thought and the woman chuckles. “Maybe it’s haunted!” She suggests, raising her hands and wiggling her fingers at him. “Oooh, spooky.”

He shakes his head, laughing and dismissing the idea. “I’ll have them take a look at it again tomorrow. In the meantime, we’ll put you in the room down the hall.” He turns and leads the way.

The woman looks at the door and notices that a nail is missing in one of the 2’s in “202”, causing it to hang upside down. She frowns. “This place better be worth it. “ She whispers. “With rent this high, I can understand why a ghost might want to haunt it.” She uses her index finger to adjust the hanging number so that it is right side up once again.

On the other side of the door a man is looking through the peep hole, watching her every move. He bangs on the door, screaming at the top of his lungs. “Hey! Hey! Hey!” He screams, pressing himself against the door. “Can you hear me?” He bangs on the door once again. “Hey! I’m trapped in here!”

Can she not hear him?

The woman turns away. The man’s eyes go wide, seemingly desperate as he watches her walk away from the door. He continues to try and get her attention, trying his best to somehow be heard.

Why can’t she hear him?

“Hey!” He screams. “No, don’t go! DON’T GO!”

He gives up and turns, revealing himself as a preacher, dressed in black. He comes face to face with a young man holding a camera. The young man adjusts his camera lens and continues to film him. Behind the camera man, there is another young man that encourages him to continue filming; he is of African American descent.

The African American man steps into view of the camera, “As you can see, it’s been well over an hour and nobody knows we’re in this room. It’s as if no one can hear us!”

“Stop that!” the Preacher demands. He frowns at both of them, “You keep filming away as if it’s going to help any of us get out of here!”

The camera man lowers his camcorder.

“Maybe he’s right, E -- this isn’t cool.”

E, the African American male, shakes his head and smiles. “Sky, relax will ya?” He pats the camera man on the back, causing him to ease up and regain his composure. “I’m cool, your cool – everyone’s cool.” He reassures him.

“Right?”

Sky nods his head.

“Right.”

E looks back at the Preacher, and his smile broadens. “Father...” He baits.

And the Preacher bites, answering, “Father, Vick Guile.”.

“Yeah, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Elijah Conner.” He gestures to the young man beside him, “My friend over here recording is Skyler Dumas.” He extends his hand to Father Vick Guile.

Father Vick Guile shakes his hand, somewhat puzzled.

“Let’s be honest -- This is a very uncomfortable situation to be in, and the last thing I want to do is make anyone here feel uncomfortable. However, we need to document this, because when we get out of here, people need to know about this.”

Father Vick Guile shakes his head. “What are you saying?” He asks. “We may never even get out of here!”

Conner frowns. “If you don’t believe, who will?” He asks him, pointing toward the apartment’s living room.

In the living room there is a large, black ball in which sits in front of a balcony’s view of Stone Mountain in the distance. Beside the black ball there is a young woman with black hair. She is around Conner and Skyler’s age. She is attempting to use her cell phone. She looks up to see three red lasers shoot out from the large black ball.

“Skyler!” She calls out.

“What’s up Ben?”

“It’s happening again -- are you getting this?” Ben asks him.

Skyler looks at Conner, and Conner nods for him to go. As soon as he leaves, Conner looks back at Father Vick Guile. “We’re going to continue to film, and on that footage, I’d like you to be the faith that kept hope alive until the end – can you do that?”

Father Vick Guile looks on as the the lasers from the ball form what appears to be another being. He swallows as a bead of sweat drips down his brow. He wipes it with a handkerchief.

“I can.”

[James]

{name:Terry Mahoney#|#picture:1}Of all the godawful things that could happen to him, Terry never expected to be shoved down a well. Seriously. The only thing worse that his friends could do was force him to sit through My Little Pony with his annoying little sister. That was Hell on earth for him.

They’d all done some pretty effed up things before—heck, so had he—but this really took the cake. When he got out of there, they were so . . . no. Terry wasn’t going to get out of there. Figuratively and literally, he was sunk; his neck was killing him, and he found by the time he grabbed his baseball, the rest of his body was moving on its own, and now, it was impossible for him to get up and breathe. Figuratively and literally, he was about to die in a ditch. . . .

. . . And that terrified the kid.

This was it? The baseball pro in the making was going to kick the bucket before he could realize his dream?—or even before school was out?—or even before he could see the season finales of his favorite shows?—or even before world peace? Or even . . . yes, yes he was. Damn it. This was not cool at all.

That ball, amidst the murky and sulfur-scented water, was last thing he saw before all went black, whether he forced his eyes shut or the mud he fell against finally covered his face. Or maybe this was what it was really like to be dead—dark and cold and suffocating.

And then, before he knew it, there was light pushing through his eyelids, that shapeless, whitish-grey tint that he always saw before he woke up, a sign he was still alive. He felt a sharp pressure on his shoulder and cheek, against a hard, cold floor, and the rest of his body eventually fell to it as well—yet another sign, or so he had heard. Sensing others, he tried to open his eyes slowly, letting them adjust to this new place, but very soon, he wanted to close them again. Terry saw Jesus coming for him and he was scared.

Except—wait a minute—Jesus was black?

His eyes adjusting to the room a little more, Terry soon found himself mistaken. Not Jesus, but an African American man in a green coat was the person he saw—and as he focused, he found other people around his age at his side, along with a much older white man in black robes. A quick glance around, and he couldn’t find any other kids like him.

“Uh? Am I in Heaven?”

Terry attempted to sit himself up—and was relieved to notice he could move again, pain free. In his hand he could feel the weight of his black baseball, and looked there to confirm he had it, and smiled. Awesome. And, as a bonus, nothing about him was wet or smelly from falling in the well.

So now that Terry was sure he was fine, he looked to the-man-formerly-known-as-Jesus and his compadres. Chiefly, he noticed a man holding a camera, and probably recording—and Terry knew his routine. Baring his teeth, he stuck his tongue out between them, placed the thumb of his free hand in his ear, and waved his fingers at the camera. He could never resist doing that.

And as soon as he finished, and stood up, ball still in hand, he sighed. “Man. What the heck is this place? And who are you guys?—oh, right! I’m Terry. Nice to meetcha.”

Having made his speedy introduction and nodding a greeting to the other grown-ups, the boy looked around the apartment complex. It almost seemed as big as his house, but that may have been because the whole place was emptying—barring him, the adults, and a strange black ball almost as big as he was tall. All the doors were shut, and no one seemed to be opening them now—Terry followed suit, not wanting to take initiative. Save for that, all was quiet.

“Dude. If this is Heaven, then it stinks! I thought this guy was Jesus,” he pointed at Elijah, “but . . . nope. Oh well!”

Just then, as he looked at the ball, another set of lasers shot from the ball, and moved to create what seemed to be another person. Terry’s eyes went wide open, his mouth agape. Needless to say, he was amazed.

“Whoa. Is that how I got in? Cool, man! Hey, uh, you don’t think . . .” he pointed at the lasers, “is that Jesus?”

[Al]

{name:Kyle Bailey#|#picture:1}As the lasers scanned his body, the first thing Kyle saw was the floor of an apartment. Those around him would see him bent over with his hands held out before him, as though he'd just fallen over. He blinked a couple of times, feeling the cold floor beneath his hands to make sure this was for real. Had he just woken back up? He'd seen other guys do the cinnamon challenge before, and all they did was puke, not pass out. Kyle rose to his feet, seeing the rest of the room at last.

The second he saw a kid pointing at him, however, he knew he wasn't at home anymore. He'd never seen the room before. It certainly wasn't the dang hospital, Kyle'd been there before. None of his friends had the idiocy to bring an obnoxious little brat to point at him at their places, either. So for the very first second of his new life, Kyle had the epiphany of a lifetime. Or, at least, the one for his previous life. Using the first one so soon would suck ass, especially given he wasn't sure if he'd actually died.

The memory hit him like a ton of bricks, him choking as his throat became clogged and his lungs filled with the brown powder he'd inhaled, rather than swallowed. It burned like hell, as though some prick threw fire ants in his mouth and let them crawl down in his throat. As he fell to the ground, grasping for a cup of water, beer, anything—all he could remember was the pain of suffocation, something that, if he were lucky, he wouldn't have to deal with again. Yet here he was, in some lame apartment with a brat pointing at him, with a sorta black aerobic ball sitting in the room, and with some kid pointing a camera at him.

Camera? Those nosy reporters always carried them around in the war. Saving those dumb shits cost a couple of guys lives. It was as though getting footage was more important than other people. Actually, given the way the world worked, Kyle supposed to some, it actually was more important. That only angered him more. Kyle hated those friggin' cameras.

“Get that outta my fuckin' face!” he screamed as he swatted at Skyler, passing Terry. Of course, he wasn't about to just let the kid get away. His turned on his heel, bent down, and started yelling at Terry, jabbing his finger as he shot off every word.“And who the hell you pointin' at kid?! Shit's rude, man, damn!”

Ignoring everyone else, Kyle stomped off at the end of the statement, obtaining a moment of calm mere seconds later as confusion set back in.

Kyle considered the room, taking a moment to not actually act on first impulse, and observe his surroundings as he was trained to do. Of course, sitting there choking to death one minute and then kneeling on some other apartment floor is a whole different situation than anything he'd been trained for. Shit.

“Where the heck is this?”

Did he really die? He didn't know any Heaven--or Hell--that was a dang apartment room. And if it was some sort of Heaven, Kyle noted, the Muslims were even more friggin' wrong than he thought, as there was only one chick in the dang room; He wasn't exactly sure if she was a virgin, but the other few guys definitely looked the part. Okay, maybe they were right after all, and the rest of the chicks were in another room.

Finally in the right state of mind after a few seconds from raising his question, he looked to the priest for answers. After all, if anyone knew the most about the afterlife, it had to be the darned priest, or there was no God.

[XenoD]

{name:Kenny Forks#|#picture:1}Kenny Forks, Professor, blinked his eyes slowly as the world around him continued to spin and grow foggy. His hands hurt, hell his whole body hurt, and he could tell even in his deteriorated state that his body mass was not the way it should be. In other words, he was upside down.

Groaning, Kenny reached his hands around, taken account that his seat belt must be the only thing holding him in place. He searched around aimlessly for the ejector, and after a few moments heard a satisfying click. Of course that was quickly followed by a painful fall as he bumped his head against the ceiling.

"Lord have mercy..." The Professor cringed, trying to move his aching body to wards the car door. That's when he noticed he couldn't move his legs, in fact he couldn't even feel them at that moment. Kenny had a few seconds of pure terror, feeling the fear creeping up on him. He would've said he could feel a chill down his spine, but as he reached a weak hand behind his back he knew he wasn't going to be feeling anything there ever again. The bumps and, to his utter horror, sharp pokes he felt along his spine told him all he needed. He was crippled.

He lay back, clenching his eyes shut and letting the tears run down his face. One never does understand the gravity of loosing the ability to move until it's too late, and Kenny was experiencing that tragedy right then and there. Worse still, he could smell burning. Almost like gasoli-

Kenny's world was filled with a bright light, causing him to squint his eyes and move his hand to block the intruding light. There was a faint ringing in his ears, which dulled down until he could suddenly hear voices. Surprise came upon Kenny, quickly followed by a surging of hope. If there were people near by they could help him get out of his car. He propped himself up on his elbows, the world still a white haze from the light.

"Hello? Can anyone hear me? Please if someone could help I'm trapped in my ca-.....what in the world." Slowly as the world began to regain its form, Kenny could see he was no longer in his car, but in a room with a few other individuals. A child, a couple of teenagers, even a Priest. All of this was too much for Kenny, and he started to back himself up against the wall.

He blinked, looking down as his legs. Kenny had just...used them! He gave them a light poke from his finger. Yup, definitely felt that. "My....my legs! I can feel my legs!" Joy coursed through Kenny as he careful stood up, noticing that not only were his legs healed, but all of his injuries seemed to have disappeared all together.

Smiling from joy, Kenny looked around the room once more. "If someone...if one of you could tell me who helped me? The doctor or nurse maybe?..." Kenny kept smiling, but started to slowly falter until that smile was all but gone from his face. What was going on here? Why were all these people looking so...distraught, and just what was that black ball in the middle of the room supposed to be? So many questions, and no answers.

[®onnie ®ude]

{name:GANTZ MOD#|#picture:0}Skyler Dumas enters the living room, camera in hand. He films the occupants, zooming in on the next person being brought in by the ball’s lasers. He stops to look at Ben, and her neck is no longer red.


^{One hour ago…}


Noelle Benedict’s eyes fluttered awake and she groaned, inwardly. There was a pain at her neck. Her eyes adjusted to the light of the room and she realized that someone was straddling her, and his hands were wrapped around her throat. It was Skyler, Skyler Dumas, and he was choking her!

“You’re not real!” he screamed.

Skyler had tears in his eyes when he tightened his hold on her neck. Even as Noelle winced, he didn’t relinquish his hold. He merely gritted his teeth and blinked back his tears, because as far as he was concerned, it would all be over shortly.

Noelle's lips curved into a weak smile, despite the pain.

He was shocked. “Ben?” Skyler asked in disbelief.

He leaned in closer and a fist connected with the right side of his face. He immediately fell to the side and began to clutch his face. He looked back at his attacker and his eyes widened.

“Of course it’s Ben,” Elijah Conner answered.

Ben coughed uncontrollably and rubbed her sore neck. She looked at Skyler and he turned away. Elijah placed a hand on Ben’s shoulder, seeing Skyler’s reaction to Ben.

Elijah rubbed his pulsating fist, and looked between the two. “Anyone mind telling me where we are and why we’ve resorted to killing each other?”

Skyler pulled his hood over his head and bit his thumb. “I-I don’t know. I d-didn’t know what to do.” He nodded over at the black ball behind the duo. “I saw that ball bring her here, a-and I thought it wasn’t real.”

Ben and Elijah looked at the black ball, noticing it for the first time. Elijah then stood, and approached it. With his right hand he reached out to touch it. As soon as he touched it, he swallowed a lump in his throat. He looked back at the others, smiling.

“See, harmless.”

Immediately after he had said this, a laser shot forth from the ball, seemingly going right through Elijah’s chest.


^{One hour later…}


Skyler shakes his head, clearing his thoughts. He had thought she’d never forgive him, but now, here he stands, filming as if nothing had ever even taken place. He focuses back on his filming and sees a little boy develop from the lasers.

He opens his eyes, slowly, and he asks a question, “Uh? Am I in Heaven?”

He looks at his black baseball and smiles. He then notices that he’s on camera and he strikes a pose. He shows his teeth, sticking his tongue out between them, placing the thumb of his free hand in his ear, and waving his fingers at the camera.

Skyler laughed uneasily and waved back down at the little guy. The little kid takes a stand, sighing, “Man. What the heck is this place? And who are you guys?—oh, right! I’m Terry, nice to meet’cha.”

Ben puts down her phone and waves at Terry and looks to her right to see Elijah with Father Vick Guile in tow. She didn’t know much about the Preacher other than his earlier outburst, in which didn’t say much.


^{30 minutes ago…}


“Elijah!” Ben screamed out as the laser went through his back and out his chest.

Elijah looked down and, and his smile faded. He looked back up at the others and Skyler and Ben ran to his side. He shook his head, smiling once again.

“E, are you hurt, man?” Skyler asked.

“I don’t think so – I don’t even feel it.” Elijah answered, and attempted to move.

Ben avoided the lasers and placed her hands on his chest. “Wait!” Ben shouted, surprising the two males. She was never one to speak out like that, but one look at her focused expression caused Elijah to do as he was told.

Moments later, she stepped back allowing her hand to casually pass through the laser this time. “It’s safe--it’s harmless.”

Across from them a man cleared his throat; he was a preacher. “Excuse me; I overheard you say something being safe. Is this…place, wherever we are, safe?”

“E, t-that’s exactly how Ben came in!” Skyler explained.

Elijah looked at the Ball with a thoughtful expression on his face. He turned to face the others, “It doesn’t make sense, why is it bringing us here?”

“It?” The preacher looked perplexed. “What do you mean it?

“I’m talking about the ball.”

“It’s alive?” The preacher asked.

“It seems to be what brought us here.” Elijah answered.

“What is this-- Some kind of prank? I’m findin’ a way out of here!”

“It’s useless –“ Skyler called out.

“What was that?”

“F-Finding a way out, I mean…I tried. It’s useless.”

Elijah shook his head, “You mean were trapped in here?”

Skyler nodded and looked at Ben who started to tear up. He could see the concern in her eyes. “I-I tried. All the doors – the windows. Everything is locked up tight.” He explained.

Elijah took off his backpack and unzipped it. Inside the backpack, he pulled out his Smartphone. With it in his hands he asked the others, “Is anyone else getting a signal in here?”

Ben and Skyler pulled out their cell phones, only to shake their heads soon after.

“Neither do I,” Elijah announced.

“Were sitting ducks in here,” The Preacher stated in a huff and proceeded to head into the hallway.

Elijah then looked at Skyler, allowing a thoughtful expression to grace his features.

Skyler saw this and looked confused. “W-what?”

“Where’s your camera?”

“What? W-Why?”

“I want to film this.”

Skyler looked around for his camcorder to no avail. Shortly after, Ben handed it to him. He realized that he must have dropped it beside her when he had tried to strangle her. He looked at her neck and felt guilty for the red bruise that had formed.

“H-Hey, Ben…about earlier—“

Elijah Conner interrupted him, “Sky, ya coming or what?”

“Y-Yeah…I'm coming...”

^{30 minutes later…}


Ben wakes up out of her stupor at the sound of Terry’s voice. “Dude-- If this is Heaven, then it stinks! I thought this guy was Jesus,” he points at Elijah, “but . . . nope. Oh well!”

Ben’s eyes widen after hearing this, and she looks at Elijah who looks at Skyler. Perhaps they were thinking the same thing.

Father Vick Guile, dares to ask what no one else will. “Are we dead?” he asks.

Another set of lasers shoots out from the ball, and creates another person. Terry’s eyes go wide in amazement, followed by the Preacher’s.

“Whoa. Is that how I got in? Cool, man! Hey, uh, you don’t think . . .” Terry points at the lasers, “is that Jesus?” he asks.

“It can’t be…” Father Guile states, “It can’t be.”

Kyle Bailey arrives in, just shy of the lasers creating him. He immediately falls to his hands and knees and manages to rise to his feet. Skyler follows his movements with the camera and Kyle notices that not only is he being filmed, but there’s also a kid pointing at him.

“Get that outta my fuckin' face!” He shouts.

He swats the camera and Skyler struggles to not drop it. He turns and faces Terry, bending down, and yelling at him.

“And who the hell you pointin' at kid?! Shit's rude, man, damn!”

As Kyle shouts, Terry can feel Kyle’s finger jabbing him in the chest as he shot off every word.

“Hey, he’s just a boy,” Father Guile calls out, stretching out his hand. “No need to scare him.”

Kyle ignores him and stomps off to the side. He looks confused and conflicted, before asking, “Where the heck is this?”

Elijah crosses his arms and points out the balcony window. “That’s Stone Mountain—in which means…we’re still in Georgia. We’re not dead, and were not in heaven or hell.” He sighs and rubs his temple. He then claps his hands together. “We just need to sit back for a minute and get our bearings—there has to be a reasonable explanation for ALL of this.”

Another accumulation of lasers comes from the large black ball. Moments later a 45 year old man appears. His name is Kenny Forks and he is dressed in suit and tie. His first words spoken are, “W-what in the world?"

He blinks and looks confused, looking at everyone and soaking his surroundings in. He looks down at his legs and prods them with his finger. "My....my legs! I can feel my legs!" He shouts with much enthusiasm.

He stands, smiling at everyone. "If someone—if one of you could tell me who helped me. The doctor or nurse maybe?"

Ben and Skyler look at Kenny as if he’s crazy, and Father Vick Guile simply shakes his head.

These reactions cause Kenny’s smile to fade.

So many questions and no answers…

“Alright, we’ll take turns…” Elijah walks into the center of the room with his backpack in hand. He points at Skyler and then takes his index finger and middle finger and points back at his own eyes—a cue for him to keep filming. “What is the last thing everyone remembers before coming here?”

He opens his back pack and pulls out a six pack of Bud Light. He takes one and places the rest on the floor. With his in hand, he opens it and takes a sip. He sighs at the taste and leans against the ball.

“Here’s what I recall…”

“Ben” he points to the black haired girl in dark clothing, “Skyler,” He points at the camera man, then back at himself. “and I…were driving back home.” He frowns for a minute as if trying to remember the rest. “I lost control—of the wheel, and that’s all I can remember right now.” He looks at Ben, and she places her head in her lap. Her shoulders shake; almost as if crying. He frowns at this and shakes his head. His attention is back on everyone else in the room. “What do you guys remember?” he asks.

[KßзŁŁ]

{name:Cyrus Greene#|#picture:1}Cyrus Greene lay on the floor, on his chest, bleeding from his many wounds. He didn't even care. He'd lived his entire life on the brink of death, and all he could do as he felt the shanks pierce his back for what he thought might be the hundredth time was laugh. Then, everything went black.

When Cyrus came to, he was in a room surrounded by highschool students, a small child, and a man that appeared to be a preacher. He saw one middle aged man that looked like he was probably in charge.

Cyrus was a mountain of a man, and as he stood up, he was the tallest person in the room, as usual. He flexed his muscles, ran a finger along his ebony chin, and felt his orange prison issue shirt that was marked DOC. It was still stained with blood and riddled with holes. He straightened his orange pants and stretched his legs out, cracking his joints loudly.

"Ya'll motherfuckers could have at least given Siege some new clothes before puttin' his ass on the spot with some scared straight bullshit he ain't even agreed to," Cyrus said. He'd been stabbed before, but never that many times, and never by that many people. He didn't really know how he was alive, but he figured that he was still wearing the clothes from his last fight to make people see what could happen to someone in prison.

Cyrus's eyes fell on the beer sitting on the ground. A huge grin went across his face, and he immediately started walking towards it. He planned to reach down and pick up the whole six pack before taking it to a corner and cracking one open to chug it.

[James]

{name:Terry Mahoney#|#picture:1}As soon as Kyle Bailey had completely manifested into the room and could move, Terry had a feeling things were about to get much noisier. As soon as the man turned his attention to him, Terry leaned back slightly, a little more each time he was poked in the chest. He noticed a hand reaching out over him, however, and took notice that the preacher was trying to stand up for the boy, however meekly he tried. Admittedly, Terry was impressed. Kyle seemed to back off immediately after, and tried to gain his surroundings; Terry stuck his tongue out at him as soon as his back was turned, and made sure to put it back in as soon as he turned around.

“Nope,” Terry commented, “not Jesus.”

Before he could forget, Terry suddenly thought it smart to put his baseball someplace safe, where he couldn’t lose it. There didn’t seem to be anyone in this room he could play catch with, anyhow. With that in mind, he slung his backpack off his shoulder, onto the floor, zipped it open and plopped the ball beside his unused notebook, and started to zip it back up—

Only, midway through that, another laser had appeared from the ball into the room. And once again it weaved back and forth, up and down, as if sowing together another person. Unlike Kyle, however, this person seemed to be someone in a formal suit, almost as if they were . . . a teacher?

Soon, it was Kenny Forks who had appeared. For better or worse, if he was a teacher, he wasn’t any Terry knew. Whatever had happened to him, however, it was apparently much worse than his being here, if his legs had been so bad he couldn’t feel them until now.

Unfortunately, the response from the others, or lack thereof, had sunken any bliss this new man had. With the atmosphere so thick you could cut it with a knife, and growing more heavy with each passing minute and two different distraught people coming in, Terry found his own chipper mood starting to quiver.

“Nope,” he repeated to himself, “not Jesus.” The boy scratched his head and swung his backpack behind him once more, and spoke to Kenny directly, “Sorry, man. A lot of us just got here too. But, Elijah says we’re not dead, so that’s good, I guess.”

Terry was beginning to wish another kid around his age would enter the room. He was still the only one, and it showed—like Yao Ming in a crowd of dwarves, except the reverse. On the other hand, he hoped his little sister wouldn’t show up. Not for her safety, but because if she did, then no matter what Elijah said, this would be Hell.

So, now it was questioning time. What happened before they all got here? That was an easy thing for Terry to remember—the whole experience had both scared him and made him so angry his face crumpled at the thought. Even if it was yet another stupid prank by his friends—it crossed the line. And if he were to see their faces now, he would do more than scream and curse at them. As soon as he saw the beer being place on the floor, however, Terry’s eyes widened again in amazement, his upset mood starting to wash out.

“Oh, dibs!” he blurted out. “Pops said it was okay if I had one with a responsible adult. AND it’s legal in Russia.”

There probably wasn’t something completely right about either statement, but whatever that was, it flew over the boy’s head completely. Regardless, he scurried his way to the six pack, snatched a can, and took a side of the room where hardly anyone seemed to mind, like a squirrel making off with its quarry.

He listened to what Elijah had to say, but even as he absentmindedly opened the can, Terry found it all hard to take in. They weren’t in Heaven or Hell—they were even still in Georgia, if what he pointed at really was Stone Mountain. That made sense to him. What didn’t, if they weren’t dead, was how the boy’s own last experience before ending up in here felt so . . . real, and suffocating, and terrifying. Heck—Elijah’s own story of what happened before he and his friends got here sounded as if they had died as well.

It was all over Terry’s head. He stared quietly into his refection in the beer until the roof of his eyes caught something moving—he looked up, and saw the lasers again, creating yet another person. Only, this one wasn’t quite anything like the others, and not in the sense it was a child, which this new person was clearly anything but.

As soon as Terry could fully grasp the sheer enormity of Cyrus, the boy went pale, and he skulked behind the person nearest to him—which happened to be Kyle. Feeling even tinier than usual, and smart enough to notice the suit the man wore was for prisoners – and that it had holes and bloodstains on it – his face began to glisten as much as his greasy black hair.

“Definitely not Jesus,” the boy muttered.

Whoever was going to explain to Cyrus what was going on, Terry did not want to be the one who did so.

[Al]

{name:Kyle Bailey#|#picture:1}Kyle watched with the amazement that often strikes those looking at a massive car wreck as Cyrus had scanned into the room. He took a step back from surprise as he watched the lasers move to and fro, outlining millions of tiny layers of skin and tissues. Beer sounded tempting...but it'd been awhile since he'd seen a man's guts before, and the memory left him on edge.

In other words, he was in the mood for one of those beers, preferably something stronger, but wasn't sure he could take it comfortably. However, as soon as the man who'd been scanned into the room was in full form, he immediately stalked off with the rest of the six pack. Kyle noticed the beer in Terry's hand as he moved behind him, seemingly hiding from the former prisoner. Deciding to throw caution with the wind, he began to bend down.

"Here, lemme get that." Kyle said. He snatched the beer right out of Terry's hand before opening it and taking in a good swig. The familiar aftertaste and tingle down his throat soothed him, even if he wished for something with real kick to more than slightly calm his nerves.

He gestured to the can* and handed back to the boy. "We'll share it. Have a taste and be a man!"

A second later, noticing that no one had actually responded to Elijah yet, he finally turned his head to him.

"Well, shit, man. I was just hangin' out at my place, drinkin with some buds when I was, like, choking to death and, you know, that scared the shit outta me," Kyle said, his face darkening as the question why the heck he was there anyway struck him. "But I'm fine now, so that means I'm okay--I think."

*((OOC: or bottle, could be either))

[®onnie ®ude]

{name:GANTZ MOD#|#picture:0}Elijah Conner looks at everyone else in the room. “What do you guys remember?” he asks.

For a moment no one speaks, and many take the time to think on the events that occurred before their arrival into the room. Another accumulation of lasers withdraws from the ball, forming Cyrus Greene. Cyrus is easily the tallest person in the room, and possibly the most intimidating.

Skyler Dumas takes a step back and zooms out with the camera to get the large man into focus. He notices his attire, an orange prison issue shirt marked DOC. It’s still stained with blood and riddled with holes, in which could possibly be the cause of death.

Cyrus stretches, and his joints crack loudly, “Ya'll motherfuckers could have at least given Siege some new clothes before puttin' his ass on the spot with some scared straight bullshit he ain't even agreed to," Cyrus shouts.

Elijah’s eyes narrow at the sight of the man, and his temple pulsates as he bites his tongue.

Clearly, this man—no this convict, would be a problem.

“Oh, dibs!” Terry blurts out, despite the tension in the room. He rushes toward the 5 remaining cans of beer and a hand falls on his arm. The man restraining him is Father Vick Guile. He shakes his head at Terry, disapproving, but Terry continues to struggle.

“Pops said it was okay if I had one with a responsible adult. AND it’s legal in Russia.” Terry explains.

Father Vick Guile didn’t expect that response, and this allows Terry to break free.

Terry looks back mid-stride, and looks on in delight—he was free! He turns and runs straight into a wall of a man, and falls back on his rump. He looks up and sees that that wall of a man was none other than Cyrus Green. If Terry were to look in Cyrus’ hands, he would see the remaining cans of beers.

“Definitely not Jesus,” Terry mutters.

Father Vick Guile arrives at Terry’s side, kneeling beside him and offering him a hand. “You’d do better to not go running off by yourself, you hear?” He suggests.

Not far behind the Preacher is Kyle Bailey who is also pretty thirsty. Unfortunately, a large man is now in possession of the beer he so desperately desires. It was clear that he would not be able to take these beers comfortably.

He backs off for a second, remembering that he too had a story to tell—a story that would answer Elijah’s lingering question that no one had yet answered.

What did he remember?

"Well, shit, man. “ Kyle begins.

Skyler Dumas turns and steps back as he focuses on filming Kyle.

“I was just hangin' out at my place, drinkin’ with some buds when I was, like, choking to death and, you know, that scared the shit outta me," Kyle said, his face darkening as the question why the heck he was there anyway finally struck him. "But I'm fine now, so that means I'm okay--I think."

Skyler continues to step back, but something catches the back of his foot. Noelle Benedict looks up from her knees, and sees him lying on the floor beside her. Apparently, he had tripped over her foot.

He catches the camera and sighes in relief. “Phew, it’s okay, I caught it!” Skyler assures everyone, but notices that Elijah was more focused on the other occupants in the room. He looks at Noelle, and her mascara is beginning to run down her cheeks.

She’s crying, but why?

Of course she’s crying—take a look around…

Everywhere you look there’s a reason!

Skyler looks at her neck, and he understands his dilemma. The last thing he wants is for her to cry because of him. The thought of that alone made him want to really be dead.

“Hey, B-Ben?”

Ben rubs her eyes with the back of her sleeve, “Yes?” she asks, below a whisper.

“Are you…”He begins, and strangely hears an echo.

He turns and sees Elijah standing over him.

“Getting this?” Elijah asks, pointing toward another set of lasers coming from the ball.

The lasers go past Kenny Forks, and Kenny realizes that there is an itch on the inside of his nose—he picks it.

The lasers form a wheel chair at first. They then focus on forming a girl, who is stunning, despite the wheel chair she is confined to. She has auburn red hear, seemingly no older than 20. The sight of her is pathetic really, shielding her eyes and trembling, as a result of her reaction to her demise.

“Wh-what’s going on?” She moans, lowering her guard and examining the room and its occupants. “No really, where the fuck am I?” She asks once again with a frown.

Skyler looks back at his camera, trying to ready it as soon as possible. The camera is nowhere near being ready, and he sighs in frustration as he scrolls past the video of the ghost that he and Ben had seen earlier.

A chill runs up his spine as he remembers filming it…

Skyler struggled to hold the camera. His palms were all sweaty as he walked with Ben down the abandoned school’s corridor, trying to come up with something smart or witty he could say to get her to like him. He really fancied her and hoped that with Elijah stepping away to take a leak, he’d have a golden opportunity.

“S-so uh, are you, uh,” He gulps, “S-seein’ anyone?”

“No,” Ben whispered, and continued to shine her flashlight around.
Skyler’s heart skipped a beat.

“No, I don’t see any ghosts, do you?” Ben finished.

Skyler sighed, and focused on the task at hand. He filmed ahead and black ball rolled down the hallway. His eyes widened and he zoomed in.

An apparition of a little girl in a pink dress and bonnet ran out to pick up the ball. With the black ball now in her hands she smiled at them and pointed a finger back at them.
“You’re all going to die!”

Skyler shakes his head, clearing his thoughts and readying his camera once again.

If they’re not alive, and ARE all dead, perhaps this was what that ghost of the little girl had meant.

Quite frankly, the thought of that scares the shit out of him...

[XenoD]

{name:Kenny Forks#|#picture:1}Kenny was a meticulous man, he liked to keep his suits pressed and his datebook updated by the hour. He did not like being dropped a room with complete strangers after having a horrible car incident. These people could be complete psychopaths for all he'd know. Okay, perhaps the little boy wasn't a danger, but the young men and girl with the camera could possible be unruly criminals out to film an old black man get his behind stomped.

When one of the young men brought out a six-pack, the teacher in Kenny wanted to reprimand the lad for bringing alcohol into a situation that probably didn't need it. He held his tongue though, the best way to assess a situation was to see how others displayed themselves.

Of course before anyone could reach for a beverage, a large man began to...appear into the room. Kenny blinked, then squinted as he couldn't really believe what his eyes were showing him at that moment. A laser seemed to be shooting itself out of the black ball in the room, and started to form the man in question. It reminds Kenny of how a printer would start to print out something, going from side to side in a quick and rapid succession. It was the same with the large man, his body was being brought into the room bit by bit. Kenny almost bent down to see if he could see any organs or exposed tissue, but decided against such a disgusting notion.

Finally the man in question was brought fully into the room, wearing what Kenny could determine as a prisoners outfit. It had many holes in it, and to Kenny's horror blood stains as well.

The man proceeds to stretch, showing off some muscle and letting out a loud couple of cracks that even Kenny can hear. He proclaims himself as Siege and that he thinks this is some scared straight program. Kenny doubted that.

The little boy, the one who seemed to be fascinated with Jesus, bumped into Siege just as the large man had scooped up the remaining five cans of beer. "Good." Kenny thought. "That means the others won't have a chance of being intoxicated. Clear heads are better than clouded ones."

Just then another laser shot out of the ball, just in front of Kenny actually. The teacher took a step back and scratched his nose, making sure to pay close attention. This time around it was a young lady, in a wheel chair of all things. "Just what in the world is going on here?" Kenny thought to himself as the young woman demanded to know what was going on.

He sighed, removing his glasses and giving them a quick wipe with his tie. Kenny went over his options or who to trust. The group of young people were unknown at the moment, so he'd most likely stay away from them. Siege was an obvious no, the man reeked of danger. The Preacher, the boy, and the woman in the wheelchair were the only safe bets at the moment.

Clearing his throat, Kenny took a step towards the middle of the room, raising his hand like he would in the classroom to gain everyone's attention. "Excuse me, my name's Kenny Forks." He paused, getting a quick look around at everyone's reactions. "I teach Social Studies over at the University, and like many of you I'm sure, I've just been in a recent accident. Car wreck off the highway." Once again, Kenny waited two ticks before continuing. "I'm not quite sure what exactly is going on, but I'd bet money, big money, that most of us didn't....come out exactly okay in our accidents."

It was a bold statement. While it was implied that Kenny thought they were all dead, the statement was ambiguous enough to let everyone make their own assumptions. Now to keep the ball rolling.

"Another thing, and it's something I'm quite sure about, is that we're locked in here correct." He turned towards the group of young people, waiting for confirmation. "The doors are locked and the windows too yes? Probably reinforced? Otherwise I doubt you all would still be here." Kenny stuck his hands in his pockets, sticking out his bottom lip in the process. It was an old academic trick to seem less threatening, and more approachable. "Now this is just some old man's theory, but I'm betting that we're here for a reason. Particularly because of," He points his finger at the black ball. "That."

[KßзŁŁ]

{name:Cyrus Greene#|#picture:1}Siege barely even noticed the child bump into him. Once he'd gotten to a corner, he pulled one of the beers out of the plastic rings and cracked it open. It had been a long time since he'd had beer, so he savored it for just a moment before finishing the can and pulling another out. After slamming that one, he'd slow down a little bit.

Siege'd realized he'd missed the taste of beer quite a bit, and his mind started to drift to the other things he'd missed. His eyes drifted to the red haired girl in the wheelchair. Siege carried his beers over towards her before putting on a wide grin and asking, "So when that type'a shit happen to ya legs," Siege gestured with his beer towards the chair, "do the rest'a ya bottom half still work?" Siege continued to grin and drink his beer.

[Al]

{name:Kyle Bailey#|#picture:1}Now, Kyle had joined his own comrades ganging a bitch before, so he wasn't exactly on the right side of the moral spectrum, but the only thing he could do was shake his head at the scene after Siege walked up to the girl in the wheelchair. He knew enough about prison to know what was happening, along with the racial differences there. On a rare point of clarity, Kyle actually thought out his decision on what he would do, between responding to Siege or Kenny.

There wasn't any point to talking with Siege, and he hadn't reached any point of actual danger, either. Plus, Kyle thought, only the actual dumb guys got convicted, proof being in his approach. The girl's arms could still function, assumably, and Siege was already occupied with the beer to be quick enough to stop her if she aimed for his closest weak point to her. Any guy falls to that.

Deciding the possible hostile situation could be easily defused without him, he instead decided to challenge Kenny's theory since he was close to the Ball. Years of teachers like him made Kyle just want to prove him wrong. People who just sat around acting like they knew everything. Some stupid ball couldn't possibly be the source of it all. Or so he thought. Kyle moved over to the Black Ball and began kicking it to prove his point.

“You're outta your goddamn mind if ya think that some ball brought us back from the dead. What, izzit gonna start talkin' next?”

[®onnie ®ude]

{name:GANTZ MOD#|#picture:0}Everyone hears a sigh and it comes from Kenny Forks. He removes his glasses and wipes them with his tie. He looks at everyone, clears his throat, and steps forward into the middle of the room. His hand raises similar in fashion to how he’d gain everyone's attention in a classroom.

Skyler focuses on filming Kenny, and Ben and Elijah immediately look over in his direction, curious, just by his hand gesture at what it was that he wanted.

"Excuse me, my name's Kenny Forks."

He pauses, and Father Guile nods back at him to continue as the girl in the wheelchair sits up to look around the crowd in the room.

"I teach Social Studies over at the University, and like many of you I'm sure, I've just been in a recent accident. Car wreck off the highway."

Elijah’s eyes widen and he opens his mouth to speak, but stops when he looks down at Ben. She hugs her knees tighter to her chest. He figures she is thinking the same thing. Perhaps, it was just a coincidence. It has to be!

Kenny continues, "I'm not quite sure what exactly is going on, but I'd bet money, big money, that most of us didn't....come out exactly okay in our accidents."

Kelly Kramer, the girl in the wheelchair looks down at her hands and shakes her head. “I-I can’t be dead!”

"Another thing, and it's something I'm quite sure about, is that we're locked in here correct." Kenny states, and Father Vick Guile nods. "The doors are locked and the windows too yes? Probably reinforced? Otherwise I doubt you all would still be here." Kenny sticks his hands in his pockets, sticking out his bottom lip in the process. "Now this is just some old man's theory, but I'm betting that we're here for a reason. Particularly because of," He points his finger at the black ball. "That."

Elijah laughs, and looks at Skyler and back at Ben. “C’mon guys, really?” He finishes his beer and crushes it in his hands. “Does anyone here honestly believe their dead?” He tosses it over his shoulder and it hits the Gantz Ball. He looks around the room and sees Father Guile raise his hand. Shortly after, Ben raises her hand as well. He sighs and looks at Skyler who slowly raises his free hand as well. “You too?”

Skyler lowers the camera and looks at Ben. “You saw the footage. I-It’s just as the little girl said.” He explains, and looks back at Elijah. “You saw it too, E.”

Father Vick Guile rubs his temple, trying to recall the little girl that he too had seen…

From what he remembered he was sitting in his confession booth, hearing the confessions of others. He enjoyed this, considering it made him feel as if his life wasn’t as bad as others confessed to him. Why they believed God was listening or God was on the other side of their booth was beyond him, but he wasn’t one to judge. He knew too well how much of a relief it was to speak about your problems to others; it was good therapy – but it wasn’t enough to mend or heal his problems. His wife was dead, and she wasn’t coming back. Crying about this to others wasn’t going to bring her back, no matter how good it felt.

It was a slow day and not many had much to confess. A whole hour had passed until he heard the door open and close in the booth adjacent to his. He almost thanked the maker, in which he almost scoffed at, considering he stopped believing in such trivial things, despite his role in the church. The less time he spent alone, the less time he had to think about his wife, and his own reluctance to believe in God.

He listened, but heard nothing for quite some time. He figured that whoever had entered was unsure of how to word their past sins. It made him think, “This is going to be good.” However, nothing was said. He shifted in his seat and leaned his ear to the glass.

He heard a child giggle, and his face turned red in anger. “I know why your wife left you.” A little girl baited.

He then stood and opened the door in a huff, expecting to reprimand whatever child was playing this cruel prank on him. He approached the booth adjacent to his and swung the door open. When he looked inside he saw only a child’s black ball. He then turned around and saw an apparition of a little girl in a pink dress and bonnet was standing behind him.

The little girl curtsied and smiled back up at him. “You’re going to die, mister!”

Father Vick Guile clutched his chest and stumbled back into the booth. As he stumbled backward, the child’s ball rolled out, and the girl reached down and picked it up. The little girl then skipped away, humming a familiar tune.

Father Vick Guile shakes his head and looks at Skyler. He hesitates for a moment, and then asks, “Did you say, did you say a little girl spoke to you prior to coming here?”
Elijah nods, and points at Skyler’s camera. “Yeah, we caught ourselves a real paranormal entity on camera.”

“A paranormal what-cha-ma-call-it?” The Preacher inquires.

Elijah laughs at the mispronunciation. “A ghost.” He corrects him, and pauses as if lost in thought. He looks over at Skyler, and points at his camera. “Are you saying that thing is why we’re here?” He asks, lowering his tone, just below a whisper.

Skyler shrugs, “I-I don’t know E, this all screwed up, you know?”

“If it ain’t that,” the Preacher states, pointing at the camera, “All we got left to go on is that ball over there.”

Not too far away, Kelly Kramer gives up on trying to look and see what’s going on as soon as a large man blocks her view. The man towering over her and was none other than Siege, carrying beers. He looks a little tipsy, but in no way plastered.

He grins and looks down at her, “So when that type'a shit happen to ya legs," Siege gestures with his beer toward the chair, "do the rest'a ya bottom half still work?" Siege asks continuing to grin and drink his beer.

Kelly grimaces, and her nose wrinkles as she rolls her chair backward a bit. She gets a good look at the man, noting that he is dressed as if incarcerated for some time.. Definitely not the type of guy she would share that type of information with. “Excuse me, did you say something?” She asks, noticing the beers, a sign that he was most likely intoxicated, and probably not in the right state of mind. She knew all too well about that, and was currently still paying for her past mistakes.

She nods at the beers, “I take it you don’t plan to share those.” She pouts. “Shame.”

Meanwhile, Kyle passes Terry who is scratching his ass in a vain effort to adjust his trousers. Eventually he arrives at the Black Ball and kicks it. “You're outta your goddamn mind if ya think that some ball brought us back from the dead. What, is it gonna start talkin' next?”

The Black Ball responds instantly, switching on with a whirring sound like an old jukebox or record player. An old 90’s song begins to play from it and engulfs the entire room in song…

<sup>♫ So open up your morning light
And say a little prayer for I
You know that if we are to stay alive
Then see the peace in every eye… ♫

♫ She had two babies, one was six months, one was three
In the war of '44
Every telephone ring, every heartbeat stinging
When she thought it was God calling her
Oh, would her son grow to know his father? ♫

♫ I don't want to wait for our lives to be over
I want to know right now what will it be
I don't want to wait for our lives to be over
Will it be yes or will it be sorry? ♫</sup>

A green text appears on the Black Ball.

<sup>Ya'll southern folk ain't too bright...

Guess, I've gots some s'plainin' to do..

Ya'll are dead, as dead as dead gets.

Listen to me or you gon get dead again!</sup>

[KßзŁŁ]

{name:Cyrus Greene#|#picture:1}Siege began laughing, half because the black ball had words appearing on it, and half because he was impressed by the wheelchair bound girl's lack of fear. He wasn't too sure what was going on, but he was starting to think scared straight had nothing to do with his current situation. "Here y'are honey," he said, grin still wide on his face. Cyrus put the beers under one elbow and pulled one out before saying, "I know your hands still work," and tossing the unopened beer into her lap. "But I ain't got a damn clue what the fuck this shit is," Cyrus said, gesturing towards the black ball.

Cyrus continued to drink his beer.

[Al]

{name:Kyle Bailey#|#picture:1}{name:Kyle Bailey#|#picture:1}Immediately after Kyle's rebuttal, the black ball had proved him wrong. It took until the end of the song for Kyle to fully piece himself back together, in fact. Seeing the phrase "Ya'll southern folk ain't too bright..." didn't exactly help his demeanor, though.

" 'Southern folk', what, we got some damn Yank watchin' us?" Kyle said, wondering aloud, but the Ball had already passed him as it displayed the rest of its message. Confirmed dead, the former soldier went straight back to confusion.

"Listen to me or you gon get dead again!" was the ball's message, which wasn't too much different than an order. Of course, being the only former member of the military in the room, only Kyle would take that out of it. Furthermore, Kyle didn't take orders from someone who wouldn't even show their face, so he decided to ignore the ball.

"Aight, so we dead, now what?" Kyle asked, turning his head to mark it as for anyone to answer, making a point as he lingered facing Kenny for a second. "We're supposed to die again?

Sounds like bullshit to me. Okay, so this ball just so happened to play some music and start talkin', but that don't mean this thing's God bringing us back from the dead for retribution or some shit. I remember dyin', but that don't mean I'm dead. Sounds to me, like somebody gathered us all and is watchin' us in here. I'm willin' to bet this has a camera or somethin in it, too."

As he spoke, though, the word retribution and seeing the priest brought back a specific verse Kyle read when he was little. His voice trembled for a moment as the memory came to him.

Or do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men who practice homosexuality, nor thieves, nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God. And such were some of you. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God.

Now, had the ball quoted that, Kyle might've believed it. But then, God sometimes did work in subtle ways. Was the little boy right, and this ball was...?

No way, Kyle thought. Just no friggin' way. The con was proof of that, standing around and drinking beer. He doubted either himself or the con were "washed" of sin, and if divine punishment were to be given, the Ball would've said more than telling them they'd die again.

Wasn't too much different from this crazy girl he'd seen outside of his apartment. Everyone else was talking about some paranormal shit going on, but Kyle was sure some little girl wasn't the Holy Spirit or something.

[James]

{name:Terry Mahoney#|#picture:1}Terry scratched his ass, trying hard not to look obvious doing so. Everyone else seemed to be avoiding Cyrus and the woman in the wheelchair, as if they were too afraid to step in between them, as if . . . something could happen that would be terrifying to interfere with. Terry made sure to follow suit.

His eyes widened in shock when the ball responded to Kyle’s outburst. It reminded Terry of how an old TV sometimes needed a hard whack to get the stuff inside it working again, even though the ball seemed to be quite well-kept—new, even. But more fascinating still was the green text that appeared afterward. It was like the ball, too, was as conscious and aware as the rest of them.

“Ohhh, I get it!” the boy said, pounding one fist into an open palm. “So the ball was Jesus all along, it all makes sense now! Wait, uhh, does it? Aw man, I’m confused. But it says it wants to help us! Maybe Jesus is using a remote control for it or something. Can’t show us his face ‘cause he’s in Heaven, you know.”

It was hard to say whether the ball really was Jesus or not, but Terry did remember a story his father had told him and his sister a few times, of Purgatory. A final stop, as his father made the analogy, for a person’s soul to make when they had passed on and be made ready to enter the Kingdom of Heaven—or be cast into Hell, forever separated from God, should the sins the person had made in life be too great for Purgatory’s fiery baptism to cleanse. Naturally, the fewer sins one committed, the less painful the cleansing would be, and it was temporary anyway—but that temporary time always involved that pain and torment, all the same, to forcefully rid man of his sins.

Of course, Terry was smart enough to realize his dad told him those stories to help him behave, but now, he had to wonder how much truth there was to that story after all.

“But wait,” Terry said. “If we really did die back there . . . uh . . . wouldn’t that make this place Purgatory? Where we all gotta show Jesus and God that we deserve to go to Heaven, or something? Um . . . that won’t be fun. . . .”

Speaking of dying . . . right. He never did tell the others how he got here. It was still an uncomfortable atmosphere, but he was beginning to like the others enough to say something. Besides, it was never good to bottle up bad feelings, his mom told him.

Terry sighed, and sweat started to add a shimmer to his forehead. “Before I got here . . . uh . . . I was playing catch with some friends. My ball was thrown into a well, and I wanted to get it back, because it’s one of my favorites, and dad paid a lot for it, he says.”

The boy readjusted his backpack, as if proud to have gotten its contents back again.

“Well, I couldn’t see it in the well at first, and just as I thought I could, somebody grabbed me and shoved me down there. There wasn’t anyone else but me and my friends . . . I think it was them. We all love pranks, but man, that was a dick move, a really really dick move, and I’m really pissed at them. Sorry, mister priest.” He made a big grin at Father Vick Guile, one that showed the gap where a tooth had once been. Terry said he was pissed, but in an instant, he hardly seemed that way. Even the boy himself found that a little weird.

“Hey, hey!” he continued, still addressing the priest with barely an indoor voice. “You and E were talking about some weird girl, right? Like, she’s a ghost and all that? Pink dress, bonnet, black ball? I think I saw her too, after school. I was gettin’ stuff outta my locker, you know, and when I closed it, she showed up from behind it outta nowhere. I didn’t recognize her, ‘cause I know everyone in my school and she didn’t look familiar. She wasn’t much a talker, either, but since she had a ball I thought I’d show mine.”

(Beat.)

“Wait, uh . . . not like that, man, geez. Anyway, she stared at it, but still wasn’t talking, so I called her weird and went on to baseball practice. She was there too, but no one else noticed her. I went home while playing catch with friends, and . . . hey . . . come to think of it, this was all today—when I got chucked in the well. That’s weird, man. Wonder who she is?”

[XenoD]

{name:Kenny Forks#|#picture:1}As soon as Kyle had started disturbing the black ball, noise and words started to erupt and appear upon the objects smooth black surface. It stated what Kenny had guessed just moments ago.

They were all dead.

Kenny kept quiet and tried to think, blocking out Kyle's rambling about being watched by a Yank and little Terry's proclamation that the ball was Jesus. He needed to figure out how everyone here was connected. Obviously they had all died, that was a given, but what was the physical string that tied them together as a group? Could it be a chance at redemption? No, Kenny had never done anything remotely evil in his time, and he doubted the child or Priest could secretly be mass murderers. Perhaps they were needed because of their skills? Again Kenny shook his head, as what skills could a group of teenagers and a little child possess?

Kenny ran a hand over his balding scalp, feeling for the first time since being here stumped and without answers.

“Hey, hey!” Kenny looked up, noticing that little Terry seemed to be trying to get the Priests attention. “You and E were talking about some weird girl, right? Like, she’s a ghost and all that? Pink dress, bonnet, black ball? I think I saw her too- Wait. Kenny widened his eyes, memories flooding back to just an hour ago, right before the crash.

Hand gripping the wheel, not tightly but hard enough to maintain a sense of control. Coffee in coaster at side, steam wafting up to wards the window, fogging it. Hand reaches out, wiping away the fog. Little girl, pink dress, holding black ball, standing in the middle of the road, looking at car about to hit her head on. Instinct kicks in, can't let little girl get hurt, unacceptable. Jerk steering wheel to left, manage to avoid girl at last second, momentary sense of relief. Suddenly jolting sensation, car is flipped as it goes off road, head crashes into window, coffee spills everywhere, can see large tree getting closer and closer...

"....I saw her too." Kenny falls against the wall, his chest heaving as he finds himself having trouble breathing. "She was...on the road. Just standing there with that black ball. I swerved to miss her and..." Kenny uses his tie to wipe away the sweat that has been accumulating upon his brow, taking a few long breaths to calm his nerves. "I think....some of us were chosen to be here, and whatever is inside that ball holds the answers as to why we were chosen. Either we're here for redemption, to prove we deserve to live, or it's just some sick game, this whole place is...it feels like..."

Kenny closes his eyes, heart pounding in his chest. "A proving ground."

[®onnie ®ude]

{name:GANTZ MOD#|#picture:0}Just moments ago…

Elijah looked over at Skyler, and pointed at his camera. “Are you saying that thing is why we’re here?” He asked, lowering his tone, just below a whisper.

Skyler shrugged, “I-I don’t know E, this is all screwed up, you know?”

“If it ain’t that,” the Preacher stated, pointing at the camera, “All we got left to go on is that ball over there.”

Skyler and Elijah look at the the Black Ball just as it responded to Kyle kicking it. The Black Ball came to life and an old 90’s song played from it. The entire room was engulfed in song…

^{♫ So open up your morning light
And say a little prayer for I
You know that if we are to stay alive
Then see the peace in every eye… ♫}

“Is that music?” Father Vick Guile inquired; his question coming off as rhetorical. He stepped forward, and confirmed it. He then looked back at Elijah, “Why is it playing music?” he asked.


^{♫ She had two babies, one was six months, one was three
In the war of '44
Every telephone ring, every heartbeat stinging
When she thought it was God calling her
Oh, would her son grow to know his father? ♫}

Elijah shrugged, and approached the Black Ball. When he arrived at its side he kneeled down beside it and laid his head against it. He winced and withdrew immediately. He stuck a finger in his ear, twisting it to recover from the irritation. It was obvious the ball was the cause of the song being played, but how? He rubbed his hands along the ball and found not a single sign or depression where sound could possibly be emitted.

Elijah shook his head, “Doesn’t make any sense.” He then looked back at Skyler.

Skyler raised his camera, “I’m getting’ it, I’m gettin’it!” he reassured him. He then looked at Ben. She has covered her ears, and he knew why. This was one of the songs that his dad, a Private Investigator who couldn’t land work to save his life, always use to play in the office. He said it reminded him of mom.
Quite frankly, Skyler hated this song, and smiled at the thought of Ben feeling the same way.

Ben noticed that Skyler had been watching her. “We’re trapped in here and now it wants to torture us.” Ben runs her hands through her black hair in frustration. “Oh, it’s a ball, let’s kick it!” She recapped with a sigh. “And yet, I think I probably deserve this.”


^{♫ I don't want to wait for our lives to be over
I want to know right now what will it be
I don't want to wait for our lives to be over
Will it be yes or will it be sorry? ♫}

Kelly tilted her head to the side, and her eyebrow rose. “Is that Paula Cole?” She laughed again, “It is Paula Cole!” She confirmed. “I haven’t heard this since they aired a re-run of Dawson’s Creek.”

She had a lot of time to spare after her car accident. There was rehab and a month in prison before she could re-enroll back in school. It wasn't exactly her cup of tea, but old shows such as those were campy and somewhat nostalgic.

The music stopped and green text appeared on the Black Ball.

^{Ya'll southern folk ain't too bright...}

It wasn’t long before People started to crowd around it…

“‘Southern folk’, what, we got some damn Yank watchin' us?" Kyle asked out loud, but no one responded.

Someone had to be watching – but who?

Cyrus laughs. "Here y'are honey," he said, grin still wide on his face. Cyrus put the beers under one elbow. He pulled one out and said, "I know your hands still work." He then tossed Kelly the unopened beer.

Kelly was caught off guard due to the sudden nostalgia trip that Paula Cole’s song had caused. She attempted to catch the beer, but it slipped out of her hands and fell into her lap. “Shit, butterfingers.” She then recalled Seige’s previous statement. “Apparently not.” She opened the beer and sighed. “What the hell is all this anyway?” She asked out loud.

"I ain't got a damn clue what the fuck this shit is," Cyrus said and gestured toward the Black Ball.

“Join the club.” Came her response.

^{Guess, I've gots some s'plainin' to do..
Ya'll are dead, as dead as dead gets.}

"Aight, so we dead, now what?" Kyle asked, turning his head and encouraging anyone to answer. He even took a moment to allow his gaze to linger considerably longer on Kenny. "We're supposed to die again?”

^{Listen to me or you gon get dead again!}

Moments later…

“Ohhh, I get it!” Terry says, pounding one fist into an open palm. “So the ball was Jesus all along, it all makes sense now! Wait, uhh, does it? Aw man, I’m confused. But it says it wants to help us! Maybe Jesus is using a remote control for it or something. Can’t show us his face ‘cause he’s in Heaven, you know.”

“We’re not dead. Someone’s pulling the strings, and having fun at our expense.” Father Vick Guile looks down at Terry, and can’t help but nod at how much sense everything makes. “Is this some kind of prank?” He asks out loud. “Who’s doing this?”

“S-speak for yourself.” Ben states. “I’m dead.”

“But wait,” Terry says. “If we really did die back there . . . uh . . . wouldn’t that make this place Purgatory? Where we all gotta show Jesus and God that we deserve to go to Heaven, or something? Um . . . that won’t be fun. . . .”

Kyle cuts in, “Sounds like bullshit to me. Okay, so this ball just so happened to play some music and start talkin', but that don't mean this thing's God bringing us back from the dead for retribution or some shit. I remember dyin', but that don't mean I'm dead. Sounds to me, like somebody gathered us all and is watchin' us in here. I'm willin' to bet this place has a camera or somethin in it, too."

“That would be the reasonable solution, for lack of better words.” Father Vick Guile agrees. He looks at Skyler and he points a finger. “You kids are behind this!” He begins to pace. “Since I’ve come into this room, you’ve all been here and have been filming us.”

Skyler, stops filming and puts his hands up in defense. “Uh, E?” He calls out.

Elijah waves him off. His attention is on the Black Ball in which is no longer displaying anymore text. “Gimme a second.” He responds, not quite paying him or the other inhabitants in the room any mind.

Whatever this thing is, it definitely caught his interest.

“I-I, it wasn’t me!” He shouts. “B-besides, I’ve heard about this from Dad, he’s a, a Private Investigator.” He begins, lowering his camera. “He told me of this one incident, where, where a group of people woke up in a room, and, and their organs were sold on Ebay.”

Father Vick Guile gulps, and touches himself to determine if he's been operated on.

“I-I assure you, all of my organs are still present.” Ben smiles, “But I think a few of us may be short of some brains, but that shouldn’t be a cause for alarm.”

An empty beer can hits the wall beside her, and it startles her a little.

She looks at Kelly.

She finished that beer rather quickly!

“Darn, shh-I missed sluur.” Kelly states, her voice somewhat slurred.

She was always somewhat of a lightweight.

“I jush wan know who fluckin’ push me!” She demands, referring to her cause of death.

“Is she drunk?” Father Vick Guile asks, and shakes his head. “We need to focus on facts, on, on what we do know and what we do remember.”

Terry sighs, and sweat starts to add a shimmer to his forehead. “Before I got here . . . uh . . . I was playing catch with some friends. My ball was thrown into a well, and I wanted to get it back, because it’s one of my favorites, and Dad paid a lot for it, he says.”

Terry readjusts his backpack, as if proud to have gotten its contents back again.

“Well, I couldn’t see it in the well at first, and just as I thought I could, somebody grabbed me and shoved me down there. There wasn’t anyone else but me and my friends . . . I think it was them. We all love pranks, but man, that was a dick move, a really really dick move, and I’m really pissed at them.”

Father Vick Guile gives Terry a disapproving look.

Terry smiles up at him. “Sorry, mister priest.” He apologizes, showing off the gap in his smile where a tooth had once been.
Father Vick Guile nods, and places a hand on the boy’s head. He felt bad for the kid.

“Hey, hey!” Terry continues, still addressing the priest with barely an indoor voice. “You and E were talking about some weird girl, right? Like, she’s a ghost and all that? Pink dress, bonnet, black ball? I think I saw her too, after school. I was gettin’ stuff outta my locker, you know, and when I closed it, she showed up from behind it outta nowhere. I didn’t recognize her, ‘cause I know everyone in my school and she didn’t look familiar. She wasn’t much a talker, either, but since she had a ball I thought I’d show mine.”

At that moment, Ben looks at Skyler and Skyler looks back at Ben. Father Vick Guile notices this, and his face turns pale, almost as if he too had seen a ghost.
This was more than a coincidence.

Meanwhile, Terry was oblivious to the proverbial elephant in the room.

“Wait, uh . . . not like that, man, geez. Anyway, she stared at it, but still wasn’t talking, so I called her weird and went on to baseball practice. She was there too, but no one else noticed her. I went home while playing catch with friends, and . . . hey . . . come to think of it, this was all today—when I got chucked in the well. That’s weird, man. Wonder who she is?”

Kenny was next to speak."....I saw her too." He falls against the wall, his chest heaving as he finds himself having trouble breathing. "She was...on the road. Just standing there with that black ball. I swerved to miss her and..." Kenny uses his tie to wipe away the sweat that accumulating on his brow, taking a few long breaths to calm his nerves. "I think....some of us were chosen to be here, and whatever is inside that ball holds the answers as to why we were chosen. Either we're here for redemption, to prove we deserve to live, or it's just some sick game, this whole place is...it feels like..." Kenny closes his eyes, "A proving ground."

A popping sound is heard. Steam emits from Black Ball and it opens in three different side compartments – the left, right and the back compartments slide out with such velocity that it catches Elijah off guard. The right side compartment smacks him in the face, and breaks his nose on impact.

Blood pours profusely out his nostrils and Ben is at his side. She attempts to tilt his head back ward to help stop the bleeding, but Elijah pushes her away and points at the Black Ball.

Ben wipes Elijah’s blood on her pants and looks at the Ball in awe.

Inside the Ball there are many inner compartments and rows of equipment. In the back there are two rows of suit cases; 9 in total. On the right side there are two rows of hit-tech looking shotguns; 4 in total. On the left side there are two different types of hi-tech looking handguns; 8 in total, and 4 of each of the two types. Interestingly, enough. One of the handgun types is shaped like a Y.

Ben then tilts her head to the side and sees something else that catches her interest. There’s a little girl inside the ball, curled into a small fetal position. She is also malnourished with no clothes. She's alive, but barely, considering she's attached to a breathing apparatus. Occasionally she would breathe in and out, and shiver from exposure to open air.

Father Vick Guile places his hand over his mouth, noticing a tear fall from the girl’s closed eye.

Elijah wipes his bloody nose with his sleeve. “W-what the fuck is that!?”

At that moment, the elephant in the room was exposed. The same girl – the one who everyone recalled seeing in the pink dress and bonnet was right before their eyes. There was no mistaking it now. She had brought all of them here.

“It’s her, it’s fucking her!” Elijah shouted.

Kelly giggles shortly after, "Someone's sha pedophile."

Text appears on the Black Ball once again...



<sup>How's bout we wrassle up this herre alien?

Little Picasso Alien



Characteristics: Creative.

Likes: Likes to paint.

Dislikes: Coloring in the lines...

Quote: Coloring, Coloring, Coloring!

That's all Folks!</sup>

[XenoD]

{name:Kenny Forks#|#picture:1}Kenny winced as the compartment slammed into Elijah's face. He could already see a copious amount of blood starting to pour out of the young man's nose. His friend had stooped down to assist him, but stopped when the injured man pointed to inside the ball.

Looking for himself, Kenny jumped back almost immediately in surprise. "Fuck!" The Professor shouted as he looked at the malnourished body of a little girl. No, not 'a' little girl, 'the' little girl, the one that every single one of them had encountered prior to their deaths. She was right there, hooked up to some sort of breathing apparatus that was no doubt keeping her frail body alive.

Kenny blinked then quickly looked to wards Terry, the youngest member of the party. "Don't!" He held out his hand, motioning for Terry to stay away. "Just...just stay away and don't look." The little boy didn't need to see this, hell he didn't even need to be here.

Rubbing his face, Kenny looked back and saw Elijah was still bleeding from his injury. Kenny removed his tie and walked over to the injured young man, holding the piece of clothing out to him. "Should help stop the bleeding." After handing or dropping the tie to Elijah, Kenny took this time to look over the ball once more. He could see the various types of weaponry, advanced guns is what they appeared to be, lined up in the racks. Shotguns and other oddly shaped guns. What did this mean?

Kenny got his answer when a picture and more words appeared on the front of the black ball, telling everyone in the room that they were supposed to go alien hunting. It showed a picture of what Kenny thought was an octopus in a typical artist get up. "What in the world is going on?" He thought out loud.

The Professor looked to wards the back of the ball, noticing the suitcases all lined up with each other. He noticed there was writing on them as well. "I'm checking out the cases." He announced, slowly walking to wards the back of the ball. Once there he lifted up the first suitcase, reading over the inscription. "Golden Retriever." Kenny said out loud. He placed that one down and picked up the next, repeating the process. "Eddie Long, Ben, Dumbass, Greene Meanie, Spoons, Team Spirit, Varsity Villain, and Cinnamon Challenged." He looked up to everyone after placing the last suitcase down. "I think these suitcases belong to each of us. They're using nicknames for some reason I can't quite figure out, but I'm sure that the person their meant for will figure out the meaning behind the name. My last name is Forks so," Kenny moves back to the case labeled Spoons and picks it up. "Spoons is probably mine."

Kenny walks back to the front of the ball, carefully sitting the case down. He licks his chapped lips and then slowly opens the case. He looks down at the contents for a second before a frown appears. "It's....a suit?" Kenny picks up the black suit, made of some kind of leather material perhaps, and shows it to everyone. Then he notices the second object in the box. "And some sort of...wrist controller?" He picks it up and shows it to everyone, even slipping it on his own wrist to show it's a perfect fit. "Strange."

[KßзŁŁ]

{name:Cyrus Greene#|#picture:1}Siege chuckled as E's nose broke. The kid didn't seem to be too affected by it. Immediately afterwards, however, Siege's focus turned to the guns inside the ball. "Oh you know one these scatta guns is mine. Ya'll niggas shoulda put a bow up on this mufucka."

Siege would walk over to what he perceived to be shotguns and attempt to take one to eye it up.

[James]

{name:Terry Mahoney#|#picture:1}Terry giggled almost too loudly and covered his mouth with his hand at Elijah getting his nose slammed against the ball compartment. He had taken his injury well and the boy, oblivious as he was, likened him to a Looney Tunes character just taking his lumps as usual. Even Siege, someone he was (admittedly still) frightened of, seemed to find it amusing, and that was some reassurance for him.

But his laughter quickly died down when he noticed that Elijah’s, Ben’s, and soon almost everyone else’s attention was focused on the ball again—something inside it. With his curiosity piqued as well, Terry moved forward to investigate. Sadly, Kenny the college teacher would have none of it, and shooed him away.

“Aw, c’mon, man. . . .” he whined and backed off, setting himself just a couple meters away from all the excitement. He figured he could peek inside once everyone else’s shoulders moved away from the excitement. But for now, he chose to focus his attention on the ball itself.

Once Terry saw the alien the ball wanted them to “wrassle up”, he cracked up laughing. “Ha-ha! Check it out, fellas! ‘Little Picasso Alien’—it looks like that guy on MythBusters!”

Hopefully, calling out the other happenings of the room and give him a chance to see what they saw, but admittedly, this interested him, too.

But even that was forgotten as soon as Kenny was pulling out suitcases, and called them out, one at a time. For some reason, the first one, Golden Retriever, called out to the boy deeply.

“Golden Retriever . . . huh. Wish I had one.” Terry approached casually. He grabbed the “Golden Retriever” suitcase Kenny had laid aside, and picked up one of the guns shaped like a ‘Y’, another of the other type, shaped closer to a conventional handgun. His time playing Call of Duty told him variety was a great thing. He wanted to take a shotgun as well, but they looked to large and heavy for a small boy like him to hold.

But he still hadn’t forgotten the first thing he wanted to see. Terry leaned quickly back to see the inside of the ball, and got a clean, clear look at what everyone had made a fuss over. It was the strange girl that appeared before he died.

“Whoa, dude. It’s her! Ewww, she’s naked!” Terry curled his fingers and put the back of his hand against his face in mock repulsion. “Girl, I always knew you were weird! And you should eat more! Otherwise you won’t have a big chest when you grow up!”

He ended the tangent with the clicking noises some guy would make when he thought he was being slick, when instead he was being corny—complete with a finger pointing at the girl with a thumb pointing straight up. The boy was getting riled up before, with everything going on, but his cover was truly blown now. He looked back at Kenny and the priest and grinned apologetically, but scurried away back near where Kyle had stood, set his two guns on his lap, and opened the suitcase like it was meant to be a Christmas present.

“. . . What the heck?” he said, pulling out the suitcase’s contents, a, shiny black suit with silver-and-gold nodes that was just barely big enough for him. Some present! Whoever gave him the suit didn’t know yet he still needed to go on a growth spurt. He’d be lucky if the suit fit him half a year from now—not to mention how weird it looked!

“Err,” Terry tried reasoning things out aloud. “well . . . maybe if Jesus Ball wants us to go wrasslin’ with Little Picasso . . . these are wrasslin’ uniforms? Like WWE—wait, yeah, that’s it!” His eyes started to get wide with excitement at his own mention of the WWE, and he held the suit and two guns closer to him. “Maybe we can put stickers on ‘em later, personalize ‘em and stuff! Dude . . . this is actually kinda cool, thinkin’ about it.”

[Al]

{name:Kyle Bailey#|#picture:1}Kyle, busy with digesting all the information at once, finally put himself back together. Kyle called bullshit on the alien situation, as they were still in Georgia, NOT Area 61, but eyed the suitcase curiously. Did they all get suits, like the kid? If so, Kyle wasn't interested.

Kyle initially thought that the suitcases would be fit for the guns, although he doubted that the larger gun would fit in it, not that it looked like any real gun he knew anyway. Surprisingly, even the convict had grabbed the gun, and what he said made Kyle consider if the rail COULD actually fit anything on it. Not that there was much in the room to put on it to begin with.

Deciding to get a move on, in a rare case of thought out action, Kyle walked around Terry as he passed by to grab his one of the toy handguns, throwing it in his hoodie pocket for future inspection. Afterward, he hung around the suitcases, spending a few seconds trying to figure out how everyone else recognized their suitcases. After looking past his own suitcase, he remembered that the kid had died getting a ball--hence his suitcase's title. Kyle's eyes flickered to the suitcase marked "Cinnamon Challenged" and figured his out, letting out a chuckle at the nickname.

Kyle knew whoever had put them all in that room had to have a sense of humor; However, he didn't exactly enjoy being forced in the room with all the others. He attempted to grab his suitcase, not entirely sure he wanted it as he glanced over to the kid.

"Wrestlin costumes? This ain't goddamn Halloween," Kyle said, hell bent that this was just further part of the joke. He may have laughed earlier, but this was just too much for him. Forgetting the suitcase he reached for, he stood up. "Whoever is watching us needs to get in here so I can beat his ass."