>>5204095Ly, you hiss as you struggle to straighten your neck out, wh-what’s happening?!
“What’s happening,” Paolo explains in an unsettlingly-calm voice, “Is that you and your friends are leaving, right?” <span class="mu-i">NO</span>, you think, you’re not done here!
Yes, you reply in an equally measured tone, we’re leaving!
“What?!” Talbot sputters, still held in Tucker’s vise-grip, “y-you’re not just going to walk away, right Stan?!”
“Yea, Stanley,” Paolo replies as your facial muscles are forced into a genial grin, “Are you sure? You seemed pretty eager to stick around a minute ago.”
Yes, you nod, you <span class="mu-i">and</span> your friends! Invisible puppet strings yank your arm upwards into an awkward thumb’s up. And you won’t be back, either!
“Suit yourself.” The quartermaster replies, as the two of you share a noncommittal shrug. “Like I said, if you get permission from the boss-”
Then you’ll be taken care of, you recite, face still stuck in a Cheshire grin! You want to protest-to fight! But something rooted in your head, your body, and your very soul tells you, no, <span class="mu-i">COMPELS</span> you, to <span class="mu-s">LEAVE</span>.
So you do.
By the time you wrestle control of your body back, you’re already buckled up in a seat in the back of <span class="mu-b">THE VAN</span> as it trundles down the bumpy road. Where… what <span class="mu-i">happened</span>, you ask as sensation returns to your extremities!
“What happened,” Talbot huffs from the seat across from you, “is you <span class="mu-i">bitched</span> out, Stan.”
“You <span class="mu-i">did</span> seem rather compelled to leave, yes.” Sybil nods, massaging your shoulder from the seat next to you. “Are you well?”
Yea, you mutter through a lingering haze in your head, but… but that quartermaster-how did-
“Shouldn’t have tried to strongarm him, boss.” Mitzi grunts from behind her magazine. “Pal’s a stickler for the rules, y’know.”
“Not gonna lie,” Talbot adds with a look of disdain, “kinda <span class="mu-r">CRINGE,</span> Stan.”
Oh come on, you snarl, <span class="mu-i">seriously?!</span> You didn’t see <span class="mu-i">him</span> help out back there!
“I was getting <span class="mu-i">CHOKED</span>, okay!?” He fires back! “Tuck’s got, like, <span class="mu-i">lunchbox hands</span>!”
“Didn’t help that you were struggling so hard.” Tucker mutters from the passenger seat up front. “You pretty much choked yourself out.”
“<span class="mu-i">Th-th-there’s a-always next t-time!</span>” Denise hisses as she sits next to you! “<span class="mu-i">I l-learned th-that in our Ch-Chess Nut d-days…heheh…</span>”
Sensing a stirring inside of your bones, you ask Ly how he’s doing and earn a dull ache in your head in response!
“Eugh… yea, it’s gonna be a while before I try dat’ crap again…” He hisses in a labored voice. “Cripes, dat’ smarts…”
>CONTD. 