Bad Medicine [Night: Rory Thyme Awakening]

The night wasn't kind to lost souls. That much Rory would know. Having been in the game as long as he had there were certain places you know you shouldn't be at certain times, anyone on the shadier side of the rules had to get a sense for it. You don't walk in the wrong neighborhoods. You don't deal when the feds are around. If you can't realize what a bad situation is you could end up hurt or worse. So sometimes it was better to play it safe, like where the crowds were. Sure, you could get your wallet stolen in a crowd but there was a pretty good chance you wouldn't be jumped. Most of the time. Most of the time the Endymion Metro was full of crowds, people living their lives, doing as they're told, and getting by where they need to go.

But not tonight.

Tonight the metro was oddly empty. Gone were the mindless drones on their way to work or aching to go home. Gone was the safety of people, trustworthy or not. Down in the Endymion Metro there was only the hum of florescent lights, the echoes down the train tunnels, and an uneasiness in the air...

Read at 10:55 PM:

Recieved at 10:55 PM:

Read at 10:56 PM:

Recieved at 10:58 PM:

Rory shoved his phone back into his pocket, with an amused chuckle. His brother didn't have the nerve anyway...at least he could get home for free now. The train was overpriced anyway, and only took advantage of suckers-which was SUPPOSED to be his job. Still, as he looked around the station, some part of him, deep inside, began to feel a bit uneasy. There were no people...must've all gotten onto the last train. Or maybe it was just a slow night.

At any rate, Rory'd seen enough crappy horror movies to know what happened in subways at night if you were alone.

Unread-Sent at 10:59 PM:

He needed a bit of a joke to cut the tension, as he started making his way to the stairs, not willing to take his eyes off of whatever the nearest dark corner at the time was. He got into a lot of shady business, but only punks went out by being stabbed in the subway.

As the night crept on still no one would show. Not muggers, not bums, and certainly not any normal everyday people. He was well and truly alone down here in the abandoned subway rails, forlorn and forgotten. Time ticked by with no new messages, the buzz of the electric lights the only sound to break up the complete and deafening silence. What felt like hours was only a few minutes, 11.04. The air began to grow thick with hostility though still, he was the only one here...

The lights flickered once, a dying bulb in an old fixture dying to make the heart race.
And then a rattling sound.

It came in waves sounding much like a snake, though wooden and hollow. Yet still Rory could see no one from any direction. He was well and truly alone, by himself. With no one around but him. His head began to ache as the rattling grew louder, it sounded as if it could be right in front of him. Still, no one was there. Only himself, the buzz of the lights, the rattling, and the pain growing in his skull...

As Rory approached the stairs, he paused. It had taken an eternity to even get this far, it seemed like. And it still. Wasn't. Over. Fuck he was gonna die from old age before getting home at this rate, instead of getting shanked by a hobo. Old People weren't even cool, most of the time!...unless they bought one of his quality watches. Or hacked copies of Samson's Punch Out. They just wanted Grandkids to have fun, and he wanted sixty bucks. Both people went home happy...-ish. Still, this wasn't the time to be considering possible Old Person Death.

He jolted slightly when the lights flickered, as if just to mess with him. Well he wasn't scared of faulty electrical work!...mostly. It really just told him that the city was worse underground then it was above. Still, it was miles above Sunlake Palms. Fuck Sunlake Palms.

Of course, his hated of Sunlake would have to be put on hold, for the moment, because as he prepared to take another step, he became aware of a distinct rattling sound. At first he thought it was just one of the lights, threatening to tear itself from the roof, though then he became aware that the sound was right in front of him...or at least sounded like it.

And that was ignoring the headache he had coming on.

Despite his efforts the headache would not subside. It would only grow worse and worse as time went on. The horrible rattling grew louder and more frequent as he moved, as did the pain, as if the rattling was coming from inside his own head instead. The air grew heavy and oppressive as he began to ascend the stairs, a primal feeling of danger warning him not to proceed yet the same innate hesitation existed in the lonely subway platform. He could not escape it. There would be no running now. As if in any cliched horror film Rory had seen the lights began to die one by one, their bulbs burning out completely or only partly, basking the platform in a faint, eerie glow with what was left.

And then he found he was no longer alone. Someone was descending the subway steps. It wasn't human.


What descended before him with sickening clacks and rattling was an impossibility. It came in a blur that was difficult for the mind to accept, it's voice breathed out like a static radio broadcast. Yet the dark figure slowly lumbered toward the young man. The pain in his grew larger, as if metal caterpillars were crawling behind his eye sockets.

As the lights died, Rory suddenly began to realize that this was PROBABLY karma for something. Well-something implied he didn't know exactly what might've caused it, but still. Karma was a bitch, and it seemed like she was going to be slapping him hard that night. With a brave facade, he quickened his pace. Though as he was making his way up the stairs, he stopped, realizing that the clacking and rattling was still there, much to his annoyance. And as he made his way up, he stopped to realize something else was making it's way down.

What it was though...it eluded him. He was left staring at a blur, which seemed to be the source of the rattling. It almost seemed to be saying something, but whatever it was was missed, as the pain in his head grew in intensity.

"T-this is bullshit..."

As the creature stalked closer... and closer... step... by step... the rattling would grow stronger and more explicit. The sound it made would cater to the basic human fear of the inhuman, that which could not be explained nor understood, the alien menace that would wish to harm. It was the sound of angry locusts. They would hum and buzz while the footsteps of the monster drew near. The pain in Rory's head would reach a fever pitch, a breaking point. And then he would begin to see the creature for what it was.


The miasma that could not be defined had been revealed to Rory, a malicious entity of bleached bone and rotting stench. The words it spoke were soft yet reeked of both decay and malice with a violent hum. It's skinless feet clacked down the steps as it reached for the young man, the scent of death fresh in his nostrils. Yet something had awoken in him from realizing this terrible truth...

Of fucking course the one night that he missed his train would also be the night a demon wandered into the station. Rory was barely aware of it's words, something about curing him. That was a...an absolute laugh. At least once it killed him he wouldn't have to deal with-

"Ugh...what the hell?!" He hissed, clutching his head. Did he get slipped something?...did he catch some disease in the moldy-ass subway? As he pondered it all, and felt his heart race as the damn demon stood right there and was probably about to kill hi-


A voice. Pounding against his skull with it's smooth-and familiar-tone. It wasn't entirely the same but he swore he'd heard it-


Rory grit his teeth, preparing to shoot back something insulting, or scathing but...

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A shatter. A loud shatter reached his ears, even getting overpowering the rattling. As he forced his eyes open, he found himself greeted by...something he hadn't expected. A light blue mist, and chains, surrounding him. More like shackles than anything else.


The pain wasn't stopping, nor was the rattling, but with option left, he did as he was told, shattered the shackles, pulling them apart after pinning them with his foot.


To his surprise, however, pain was minimal, despite his initial terror.

When they faded, Rory Thyme was gone. All that stood in his place was a man wearing white robes, a large hat...

And a steel mask.

The skeletal creature inched closer and closer to the frightened young man, the sickness rolling off its breath in waves of putrid fleshy rot. It's slender finger reached out to him, those pointed fingers like used needles to "cure" this living blight as it stared into his very soul with a wild look in its eyes. But it hesitated, no, it recoiled from the Persona User as he manifested his power. The Demon began to back away, the hissing of locusts growing ever louder. It curled its bony claw into a fist and bladed its body to the budding Terrorist.


A mysterious voice would echo through the tunnels to Rory, its owner unseen. In the direction the enigmatic echo alluded to Rory would spot an aged, brown box of cardboard, incredibly weathered yet still intact.
"Yes, that's it. Open it. We'll call it... a gift." Were Rory to open this box he would find a very peculiar-looking pistol with a scoped sight, with an inserted and fully loaded magazine of definitely a finite number of ammunition.


The voice would grow silent, fading to be overcome by the sound of locusts. The mad-eyed demon would demand the young man's attention or his life in exchange.

Kwancha, Level 5:

The gun was examined for a moment, scrutinized by hidden eyes. "...I have no clue how to use a gun, but hey, thanks." It was shoved into a pouch, for later use. "Sorry you demonic douche-bag, but I'm not the one about to go down. Remember to take your medicine..."

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OOC Note: Forgot Miss

Miss if 1:

Though blasts of light were whittling the demon down it remained steadfast. Underneath its cloak would billow thousands of locusts to scatter across the abandoned subway, eager to infect the still living with their plagues.

Kwancha, Level 5: