>>6011167You're starting to find that you don't particularly enjoy staring down the barrel of a pistol. Who the hell are these people? What do they want with you? Your eyes dart over to the lady holding the gun, trying to gauge what she's thinking. All you see is a death stare that chills you to your very core. Her eyes seem to be devoid of mercy, leaving you paralyzed with fear. You try not to shit yourself.
"Hey, isn't that the unconscious Pegasi employee?" The girl with the hair bun speaks up. The old guy nods.
"It was the last thing Perry broadcasted before we got attacked."
"Be quiet, both of you," the mean lady says coolly. "You're revealing too much. Now, you. What were you doing crawling around the vents?" Oh man. Oh <span class="mu-i">man</span>. Speaking up... might be a bit difficult. You raise a hand to your mouth to try—
"Didn't I tell you not to move, half-pint?!" The gun is now on your temple. Delightful. You freeze. "All you need to do is tell me exactly what I want to know. Now, <span class="mu-s">speak</span>!" Lady, what the fuck are you supposed to do here?? Is this it? This is how you die? <span class="mu-i">Miscommunication?</span> You struggle with this thought as you ignore the irony of dying this way after working for a media communications company.
"Sherry, I don't think he <span class="mu-i">can</span> speak." The girl speaks up.
"What?" SHERRY snarls at the girl next to her, who lets out a squeak in response.
"I mean, it doesn't look like he's got a mouth. I think he was trying to tell us that. Is that right?" You nod furiously. You really do not like the feeling of hard metal rubbing against your forehead. SHERRY doesn't peel her eyes off of you for a second, but she extends her free arm behind her towards the old man.
"Phone." The old guy takes a WHITE IPHONE 5C out and hands it to SHERRY. She taps on it a few times then hands it to you. It's the NOTES APP. "You can type, can't you?" You nod. "What were you doing in the vents?" You type faster than you have ever typed before.
<span class="mu-i">I heard. Gunshots outside. My door. I was. Getting out.</span> You try to not to tremble as you hold the phone up for everyone to see.
"Why are you typing like that?" SHERRY grimaces. "Type normally."
<span class="mu-i">It's a. Tick. It would. Be harder. For me. To type. What you. Would call. Normally.</span>
"Ugh, fine. Which room was he staying in again?" The old guy looks up, thinking.
"I believe he was sent to D4-30A, near Nellie's office." SHERRY groans.
"Oh my God, Terry. I get the two of you really haven't done much field work, but I figured not blurting out people's names would be obvious! Especially not in front of someone who worked <span class="mu-i">for</span> the enemy!"
"Um, you just did it too, Sherry," Nellie interjects.
"God damn it!" You're about to type and respond to all this, but you get a nice prod from the gun at your head. You decide to let your fingers take a break.
"Answer me this: are you still with them? Do you have any intention in working against us?"
<span class="mu-i">No.</span>
(1/2)
