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Anglo

~**Kris' PoV**~

All of the convicts began to herd upstairs like a pack of animals chasing after a hungry feast. Grinning Kris took the hand of Cecil and began to speak “It's time to go upstairs, I can lead you”. Cecil stood on her two feet and began to follow Kris' lead. He started to climb up the stairs. “One...Two...Three” he slowly muttered to himself as he led her up the stairs, sometimes pausing until she climbed a step. “Injections...” Kris muttered. Cecil didn't seem too fussed over the idea, she looked more than capable of looking after herself, if it wasn't for her eyesight.

A nurse met the two convicts and began to check down a list on a note holder. “Wrists please” the nurse asked. Kris offered his right wrist as well as Cecil's. “35393 – You must be Cecil...32569 – You are Kris. If you would just like to take a seat we will begin giving you your shots, the sooner you get it done with the better!” she smiled. The nurse led Cecil away from him as he went to get his own injection. Kris patiently waited until a doctor approached him with the syringe. “You wouldn't happen to be scared of needles would you?” Kris scoffed “Of course not, only little girls are scared of syringes”. Turning his head away Kris began to focus on the blue wall ahead of him so he would not notice the needle piercing his skin.

“All done” the doctor beamed. “That was quick...” Yawning, Kris began to inspect the room to see where Cecil had got to. She was just about to get her injection. Folding his arms Kris proceeded to wait until they would be called out of the room. “Ping!”. A soft noise erupted causing Kris to jerk his head to investigate the sound. The first thing that he noticed was one of the convicts dropping to the floor stained in her own blood. “Holy sh*t!” he gasped as he jumped to his feet. The convicts began to panic and pushed past each other in hopes of not being the next victim to the unknown assailant. “Christ!” he exclaimed again. Taking cover behind what he could find he took a deep gasp.

Clearing his throat he peered over the chair he had been sitting at to see if he could notice where the shooter was. It was to hard to distinguish from the crowds of panicked orange jumpsuits. Kris continued to stay where he was, his legs numb from shock. A thought struck Kris' mind, he thought he recognised the lifeless corpse ahead of him. Taking another glance over his chair he immediately identified the victim as Dezzy, the girl he had talked to upon leaving the boat. Jesus Christ!...what do I do now?!? So much for a new beginning! I hope Lizzy is Okay!

~**Lizzy's PoV**~

Lizzy slowly made her way up the stairs which led to the room where she would receive her injection. I hate injections...A nurse quickly scurried towards her with a list of the people that belonged to the middle-class arc ship. “22694...You must be Lizzy Tanner!” a quick nod of the head and a smile led to Lizzy taking a seat awaiting the doctor to give her her injection. It wasn't long before he had arrived. “Make it quick doc...” she smiled nervously. Lizzy began to bite on her nails, something to concentrate on to take her mind off of the pain.

“All done” the doctor smiled as he quickly left her to go attend to the other passengers. Lizzy proceeded to stand up and find the group she was talking to earlier. A quick thud made Lizzy jump around to a 180 degrees angle to witness the horror of which had just happened. A lifeless corpse fell to the floor as a pool of blood slowly began to surround him. Lizzy couldn't so much as tremble out a scream from her locked lips. A splatter of blood stained the door frame that led to one of the rooms where people who had a phobia of needles were getting their injections, she noticed the girl from earlier peeking through the door before slamming it closed again in horror.

The victim had blonde wavy hair and looked to be of German descent. Lizzy hit her legs into action and quickly tried to find cover. “They wouldn't attack the other building would they?...Their only convicts after all...” she muttered to herself and continued to watch in complete horror.

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FROMtheGRAVE

((Moving on! Finally! Ok, here we go. By the way, I'm introducing a new character, one that I'll be controlling as my own for the rest of the rp. Me controlling Dezzy was simply to get the plot moving in the direction I planned. Though, that doesn't mean she's going to be out of the rp for good. xD))

((One more thing, I will be writing from now on, or mostly from now on, from my latest characters point of view. So I just thought I'd give you a heads up about that.))

The screams, the bang of the body against the ground, the sizzling sound of a smoking bullet. It all meshed into one, one big, horrifying, disgusting noise. The noise of her death, my death. I am Dezzy, someone, please help me......

My head hurt, no, it throbbed. A constant pulse throughout my skull, sending waves upon waves of pain throughout my body. I hate headaches, and why now? Right at the moment my career could actually mean something, when I'd finally be able to do what I was hired for here on the "Island". Why did I have this blasted headache? Oh well, no use complaining, I'll just deal with it, after all, it's been happening on and off since I got here, I should be used to it by now.

I walked through the pouring rain, the wind blowing against the black fedora that I struggled to hold down with my free hand. It was another storm, their was always so many storms here. I swear I'd seen more rain here than during my previous 28 years in New York, blasted Island, just another thing for me to hate. Sometimes I think God, or someone, just does these little things to annoy me. Oh, who am I kidding? I doubt any "Supreme Being" even would bother to mess with me, guess it's just bad luck then.

My recently shined Derby black shoes waded through the ever increasing puddle of wet sand, staining there black color, with a light brown. It was annoying, the constant, "squish, squish, squish" sound they made was like multiple fingernails scraping down on a chalkboard to my ears. I cursed, just another one of the many nasty habits I had, though I continued to move. I wasn't going to let a little rain, or, correction, a lot of rain, stop me from seeing this.

Normally at this time I would be making myself a nice cup of coffee, black, the strong stuff, while I watched the few channels the Island actually got. Though I doubt I would've seen anything but static due to the storm. But instead, I get a call, from Marcie, head of Security here, supposedly my boss. Though I never treat him like it. He says to me, "Hey, James, get your a** down to the Entrance, we need you." Before I can even say, or ask anything, he's gone, hung up. Some nerve, I mean, he calls me out here, from my nice, comfy little home, without even telling me what's going on, and then hangs up! It's like I don't even have any respect anymore, no one with a badge is respected anymore. I'm a d*** detective, and I get trested like trash by some hired thug! Argh, I'm givng myself more of a headache.

I kept going, my feet now filled with tiny wet sand particles, each clinging to a different part of my foot, some even worming there way through the tiny hole at the front. It was also annoying. But then again, everything was annoying here, even if it was something good like a bowl of Rocky Road Ice Cream, I bet it would still be bad here. I'd even bet on it, though I doubt anyone would take me up on the offer. I sighed, the air I breathed back in filled with particles of rain, sand, and dust, mixed into one. I coughed, the hand not on my fedora shooting up to cover my mouth. At least I was there, finally. Why do they make the path to the Entrance so d*** long anyways?

Brushing off my stupid question, I continued to move. My feet moving from the sandy ground, to the small cement flooring surrounding the entrance. I smacked my feet on the ground, a little sand shooting off from the sides. Deciding that that was all that was going to come off, I moved to the door. My hand nimbly slipping the key out of the pocket of my tan trench coat, and into the lock on the doorway. With a twist, it came free, and I stepped inside.

The air around me was hard to breathe in, the fact that it reaked of death and decay, coupled with the smell of sweat, and bad body spray sent shivers up and down my back. Grabbing my soaked fedora, I slipped it off, a little puddle of water splashing to the groun as it fell out of the crevices in my hat. Holding it at my side, I proceeded to move, my feet smacking against the thin layer of carpeting as I made my way towards the crowd of people.

The place was nearly empty, probably due to the fact that it was at least a good hour or so since they had begun the Investigation. Meaning the first step they did was clear everyone out, despite the weather, and led them to their new set of houses in the Residential District. Must of taken them long, all the scared people moving through the mini tsunami outside led by only a handfull of workeres, I guess it probably wasn't a very pretty site. Though neither was the one in front of me, the two covered bodies, laying on the ground, surrounded by Doctors and Security, attempting to discern who they were.

Though the real thing that caught my eyes, was the small row of cushioned chairs, painted in the typical blew and white. And seated on them, the oddest assortment of people you'd ever meet. There were convicts, a few of them, rich folk, judging by the clothing, and a few of the middle class and lower class that dressed plainly. All of the convicts were bound, though I don't see much of a need for it, seeing as the murderer wasn't among them. How did I know that? Truth is, it was merely a hypothesis, an educated guess, but judging from the wounds on the two bodies, yes, I saw the outline of them through the thin blanket covering them, they were shot with either a powerful magnum, at point blank, or a high-caliber rifle, from afar. Best bet was the rifle, seeing as I doubt the killer would be stupid enough to kill them from that close of range, it almost ensured capture. But then again, there are a lot of crazies in the world, some so desperate, they would do it, just to get a thrill from doing it.

I made my way over to the crowd of personal hovering around the bodies like bess around a flower. Pushing past the first two thin ones, Murphy and Jonah, I think, I made my way to Marcie, head of Security. My boss, ugh, I hate it when I think of him that way. That man couldn't run a carnival stand without making multiple mistakes, let alone hired guns. But, as of now, he was the only one with a hint at what happened, I needed answers, so I went to him.

"Oh, look who finally decided to show up, took you long enough Masters."

"Cut the crap Walker, I'm not here to exchange pleasantries."

"Neither was I, just do your job."

"Likewise. Now, tell me, what happened. I want everything from start to finish." Marcie nodded, he knew not to toy with me, at least he wasn't a total a**. "Everything started normal, the new shipment came in this afternoon," I hated how he referred to these people as "the shipment", just another thing I didn't like about Marcie, "then, as the weather started to go a little crazy, we lead them all inside."

"I see, so they were all in this room?"

"No, no, no, the two entrance wings, not just this one." To tell the truth I had completely forgotten about the sister entrance building to this one, though it made more sense come to think of it. "So, you led the two groups, convicts and normals," Normals was a term I used for everyone other than criinals, it kept things easy to remember, "to there proper entrances?" Marcie nodded, I continued, "So you're basically telling me you easily could have made a mistake?"

"Ye-, wait! What?" Marcie asked, his thick neck jiggling with the sudden movement. I smiled, I had cornered him, by the little information he gave me I deduced ther could easily be a faw in his little plan of action. Though, I doubt he noticed it. "I'm saying that you simply made room for anyone, to slip into either building and commit the murders in the little crisis, or you made room for someone to slip out of the line and away to commit the murders, if, they were even done by a newcomer." Marcie fumbled with his blue tie, his face was bright red with embarrasment, it wasn't that hard for someone like Marcie though.

"You think we'd notice an orange jumper in a different group."

'Ahh, there's your next mistake, you seem to think that it was committed by a convict, when it quite possibly been somone else, let's say, a normal, or even an employee."

"Yeah right, why would anyone else do it, the convicts are the criminals here, who else could have done it."

"Anyone, that's precisely why this could be difficult in finding the killer. But nonetheless, continue, we still haven't even reached the point of the murders yet." My hand moved up to my face, stroking the stubble that covered most of the bottom half of my face. I was listening, if I played my cards right, I could very well have this case solved, though I highly doubt it, I'm good, but not that good.

"Well, er, after we got everyone inside, we went about checkin' em' in. Like usual, it was all going smoothly, though it was definitely a little crowded. Then, out of nowhere, a bullet flies into the head of this con. Then, in the other building, this guy gets it too, head shot as well. That's about it." I sighed, this wasn't going to be easy. "I see, so two deaths, two different buildings, possibly two shooters, maybe one. Can I see the bullet wounds please?" Marcie nodded, waving his hand to a nearby nurse who in turn, pulled back the cloth covering the face of a young, hispanic female, and then the other, an older, possibly German, male.

I crouched down, my eyes scanning over the wound. Two clean headshots, through the females head, all the way through, and partially into the males head. There could be two shooters, though there just as well could possibly be one. I thought as I turned to look at Marcie. "I want to know who they are, which way they were facing, and what buildings they were in." A look of confusion crossed MArcie's face, though luckily, anearby nurse was able to answer a few of my questions, thankfully someone had a brain.

"The male is Adrien Baader, of German decent, and was in the Civilian Ward, the other is Isabella Garcia, Hispanic, and was in the Convict Ward. As to where they were facing, I don't know." I smiled at her, she was already more helpful than Marcie. As I turned to explain my thought process to Marcie, who obviously didn't follow any of it, a small voice filled my ears. Shaky, female, a little squeaky. I turned, seeing a young woman, mid twenties, brown hair, green eyes, large green eyes, light features, blue and white clothing, a nurse, Anna, or at least that's what her nametag read.

"Umm, I kno-w how, umm, Isab- the girl, I know how she was facing. I saw it, I saw her-her, I saw her die!" The woman sprung from her seat, her face pale as a ghost, she was obviously shaken up. And from her recent statement, probably from the girls death. I referred to her as the girl to keep things more anonymous, kept me from getting to know the person that dies, to me, she was just a client, and I needed to figure out who killed her, and why, at least, that's what I'm supposed to do. "I see, so which way?" I asked, my attention fully on hers.

The lady, Anna, stood, her knees wobbling, looking like she was going to fall at any moment. She turned towards the east, the East of the building that is, seeing that I was turned towards her, it would have been my right. "Sh-she was, she was facing this way, right before the bullet went, plip! Righ-t-t-t through her HEAD!" The woman collapsed, multiple nurses went over towards her, muttering reassuring words, probably friends I figured. "Oh, one more thing, where was she when she was shot? Which floor?" Marcie pointed above him, towards the cieling, a signal meaning the top floor. I nodded, "And the man?" They did the same, the top floor of the other building. Meaning it was most likely one killer, one d*** good killer with an even better shot.

I turned, my heels rubbing againt the thin carpeting. Now I would begin the hard part, questioning. The suspects they gathered were probably fairly close to whoever was killed, though probably not the killer, they still would have seen something the others didn't. "Ok, all of you, I'm Detective Chase Masters, I'm going to be doing some questioning. This doesn't have to be hard, I'm fairly certain all of you didn't do it, so you can relax. I just need to know a few things, then you'll be led to your new homes, and you can get some sleep. Ok, first off, was anyone near the man when he was shot? If so, I need an angle he was facing, nothing more. Plus, does anyone know the two who died, a relationship, brief encounter, anything?" I paused, my arms crossing over each other, waiting for an answer from any of them.

((Ok, a few things, one, it's been a few hours since the death, so basically just do a time skip. Second, all of you are seated in one of the chairs, along with a few others, so yes, the questions have been directed at you.))

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lokuri

((OOC: I hope this is okay. ))

*** Attack ***

The tips of her fingers reddened as she pressed them against the wooden rectangle in front of her, but Aria wouldn't budge. She hoped the pressure against the door would prevent it from suddenly opening in any way, be it from some paranormal method or someone trying to hurry everyone away from the scene of the crime. Her back was hunched over and she kept her head tilted towards the ground, as if in pain. She was. Every time she tried to inhale air, Aria felt like her lungs had become rubber balloons with a tiny hole being the only method of filling them. As if some asthma patient, Aria found herself incapable of breathing properly, until the experience became to much. Gradually, Aria's fingers weakened, sliding across the surface while gathering splinters along the way, which sent dull sparks through her fingers, into her wrist, and eventually fading throughout her body. It was a slow process, but Aria slipped from her feeble stance towards the ground, unable to move. Never had she felt so weak, yet the mere sight of the lifeless corpse just on the other side of the thin barrier caused her to forget all the things that should have been natural to her. How do I breathe? Stand? See? All of her senses were failing her, and Aria could only question what she should do before it was too late. Before she mingled with the darkness of death. Before she too would no longer be a part of the living--

"...a...re...you...do...i-n-g? BREATHE! Inhale! No, y-ou're...ex...hal-ing! S-uck...in...th-e...ai...r! L...ike...th-is! Hu....uaahhh! Th-at's it! Now o-ut! ...Good."

The voice that instructed her to recall what to do in order to fill her lungs with oxygen came closer with each word. Sometimes his speech was clear, allowing Aria to make some sense of it despite how fuddled her brain was, while other times he sounded like a speaker trying to declare something over a large amount of static. Soon, though, his delicate fingers wrapping themselves around her shoulders, turning her slightly so that she could face him. Through hazy eyes, Aria could barely make out the tan outline of Alex's face, his seagreen eyes adnormal squiggles attempting to form a circle. Without warning, Alex lifted her up from the awkward squat she had beem in, once again forcing her to recollect the proper way to breathe. Unfortunately, she wasn't quick enough, her consciousness dimming as Alex placed her upon the raised mat that reminded her of the environment her father worked in nearly every day. Alex seemed to know she was about to slip into a state of slumber, gathering some spare sheets to cover her with. Obviously, he was cautious not to cover her head, knowing someone would soon investigate the room. Before she shut her eyes for the short nap that would follow, Alex muttered something that bothered her.

"That bullet,...it w-as shot...-om...the North,...but...ou have...o ha...good aim."

*** Interrogation ***

Someone must have noticed Aria, for she regained consciousness while two people placed one of her arms around their shoulders in order to haul her from the room, down the surprisingly uncluttered stairs, and through the double doors she had used so much effort to reach. Not much time seemed to pass, for the weather was still that found in some gothic painting, the sky menacing and the wind howling with enthusiasm as it tugged at people along with its companion, the large heaps of rain. Sighing loudly so that the stoic pair would know she was awake, Aria stepped forward without taking any note of who had carried her thus far. Judging from the way they remained quiet as she ventured into the storm, they were far from talkative. She had assumed as much, and decided that such souls didn't need any words of kindness from the likes of her. Besides, they seemed to vanish without a trace when Aria rotated her head back at where they should have been standing, no doubt given the duty to retrieve everyone who may still be within the building. Just the thought of whoever may still be wondering about after a murder brought the image of Alex in her head.

"I cannot believe I did not question the location of Nurse Mikhail! Oh well. I suppose I will discover his whereabouts soon enough. This island may be quite unique in the way everything is handled, but there must be a gathering for suspects after the death of a guest. I just hope the corpse will not be present when the interrogation commences."

While Aria pondered how everything would be handled, she noticed a group being formed in an area closer to the building for the convicts, most of them being shepherd inside. Confused as to what was happening, Aria jogged over to the crowded spot, curious as to why some of the people who entered the wooden structure were those decked in fine fabrics instead of the matching jumpers of an unique orange. Obviously, they were wealthy individuals who were far from pleased to be shoved into an atmosphere that was revolting, based on their disgusted expressions. Seeing others mimic the rich by squanching their noses or clapping their hands together before thrusting them over their noses, Aria was able to diagnosed that she would not be greeted with a pleasant odor. She also understood something else: the body was somewhere inside, most likely displayed before everyone. Hoping to buy time, Aria stepped towards the mass of people, one of which turned out to be Alex. Once their eyes met, Aria's pace quickened, until they were face to face. His conversation with the other natives of the island was immediately resolved, his attention turned towards her. As he spoke, his hand slapped softly on the center of her back, a gesture that told her to walk and talk.

"I am glad you woke up in time. Anyone who wasn't anywhere near the scene of the crime were taken to the residential area. Everyone else who were seen as suspects were brought here. If you kept napping the minutes away, you might have missed the interrogation. Nearly an hour has passed, and you would have had to be questioned all alone with the detective if you didn't come in time."

"I am not intimidated by answering the questions from a detective. It is not possible for there to be any false solutions to the mystery, unless you can cleverly mask any information that may lead to the culprit, in which case heavily places you in the position of the murderer. In all honesty, I would rather undertake the interrogation in a separate room than this one."

"Haha! The smell of death is unpleasant, right? Well, I've gotten used to it -- not to murder, but...well, take a seat. I'm sure the detective will arrive any second now. He's not one to run to the scene of the crime, but I don't think he'd make Marcie wait much longer. If he does, we might see another murder."

"Please do not joke about death."

Understanding Aria's unease, Alex walked her over to the horizontal line of suspects. Amongst the motley bunch were convicts, easily noticeable from their orange jumpers.Nearly all of the seats were taken, coated in the familiar blue and white that marked the colors designated to the staff. Aria sat upon one of the end chairs to the far left, most of the others seemingly uncomfortable the closer they got to the ends. Such reactions were allowed, but that didn't mean that should prevent them from speaking. Was freedom of speech only allowed for those who knew more about what was going on? Quietness bothered her deeply, especially when she was almost directly in front of what was causing the odor. Dumbfounded, Aria tried to avoid what she saw, but her eyes had studied the two shapes in front of her. Bodies? One was concealed with a white blanket, while the other one was blue. However, the obsession with keeping everything color coded wasn't as disturbing as realizing not just one, but two people died! Who was the second person? Was she a convict, or did another murder occur while she was asleep? So many questions, yet everything went hush as the door opened.

Footsteps that squashed everything beneath them as they approached the area, growing louder and louder. Curious as to how the detective looked -- who else would arrive later than her? -- Aria tried her best to get a glimpse of anything while trying to not be too noticeable. A pair of laced dress shoes were the first things that flickered into view, no longer able to reflect the moonlight due to all of the muck upon its surface. Above the shoes by a few inches was a black trench coat, a common sight for a detective. Just as her head was whirling back in front of her, Aria was able to see a hat with an indent in middle of the top, most likely a fedora. Of course, the detective was a man, addressed as Masters by the person Alex indirectly introduced as Marcie, also known as Walker. Marcie Walker? They both handled the situation like any pro, without so much as a single shred of emotion in their voices. No sympathy would be given to them, the both of them just as annoying as the couple who brought her outside. That was another reason why mysteries and the like weren't that interesting to her, because they were based off of the stiff-kneck men in front of her.

"Wait just a second! Did Marcie just address us as 'new shipment'? We arrived around noon, despite how misleading the sky was, and we were instructed to head into our designated buildings. How rude! Are all of the natives incapable of treating us like humans unless we speak our mind? I do so hope Detective Masters is not as cruel as his companions."

Interestingly, the detective was quite humorous. He managed to trap Marcie, the chaos that occured from the storm making it easy for some kind of mistake to happen. After all, she herself had lingered away from what was suppose to be an organized line into the building, assisting Camellia with her problematic phobia. Upon remembering Camellia, Aria peered at all the people present, Camellia not amongst them. Was she sent by herself to the residential area? How could they treat a little girl who finds thunder and lightning terrifying such a way? All Aria could do was pray that someone had stood up for her and was protecting her from crying in a corner all by herself. The more she thought of Camellia's worried face, her body quivering out of fear, the harder it was to focus on what the detective was saying. She did hear something about the murderer possibly being one of the 'normals' or employees, though. That was enought to grab her attention again, only for her to shut her eyes and gaze at the ground like she could see right through it. They had revealed the heads of the bodies, and Aria was more afraid of fainting over desiring to see what the other corpse looked like.

"A-Adrien Baader? Yeah, he seemed to be German. So, the o-other...she was a girl named Isabella, and she was Hispanic? They have no similarities from what I could hear, so why were their lives stolen in such a way? Was the murderer someone who choose two people at random? If so, would they not find it easier to simply position themselves at a spot directly in between both buildings? If there were two murderers, there would have to be some logic behind killing just one person in each building. Ah, I wonder what the detective has deducted so far."

Peering only enough to see the detective's face and not the faces of the dead, Aria also saw several people give hints of the way the two died. Apparently, they were both shot on the top floor, where the check-ins and examinations were. One of the women had shown the direction Isabella had taken the bullet, apparently in the head, just like Adrien. Something was suspicious about the similar methods of killing. For some reason, that made Aria feel that there was only one murderer even more, or at least planned. Then again, there were still too many factors that could lead to different possibilities of how many people were involved and exactly how they carried out their plans. In the end, her lack of knowledge about detective work placed her as someone gambling in affairs she wouldn't be able to understand at the moment. She could, however, speak up for the how the man was murdered. Standing up, Aria faced Chase Masters, her body turn in the direction of North.

"I was near Adrien Baader, sir. He was facing this way, to the North. I must admit that I was not able to get a decent look at him, but Nurse Mikhail was able to speak with me about which way he was facing. To be honest, I was horrified due to the fact that Adrien Baader was murdered right outside the room I was in, which was the second door of the six doors for those who felt nervous around needles."

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MA-anna

Ronnie was stretched out on her cot when there was a quiet knock on the door before it swung open. Standing in the open door were two men in a ugly blue uniform and the red headed woman who served her the horrible mush called chicken. "I see you didn't like the chicken much." Her words sounded sympathetic and the woman's forced smile made it even worse. Ronnie had no time to answer or even think before the man on the right barked "Stand up and face the wall!" Ronnie studied both men carefully before making a move. The one that just spoke was a very talk lanky fellow with short blonde cropped hair. The man on the left had the same matching cropped hair except in a dark brown, this man was the same height but had a bulky look to him. Both had muddy brown eyes that looked at Ronnie in disgust mixed with anger. "W-why? What's going on?" Ronnie's voice matched her face. Scared and confused. The second man grabbed Ronnie by the arm roughly and tore her to her feet. He yanked her shoulder and spun her to face to wall. "Hands behind your back." he said in a low gravely tone. Ronnie shivered out of anger before Carlos said "Don't...touch Ronnie so roughly." She slapped her wrists behind her back making a loud Smack! as they slapped together. Ronnie felt the cold metal slid around her wirsts and Carlos mimicked the sounded the cuffs made. "Click..Click." Her voice was thick with disdain. The man wrapped his hand around Ronnie's thin arm and squeezed tightly as he pulled her out of the room. The two guards joked back and forth as they lead Ronnie through the empty hallways. Ronnie felt like she had walked in to a wall of death as they entered a room filled with a strange assortment of people and employees. Towards the middle of the room was to lumpy sheets that Ronnie's eyes quickly darted away from. The rancid odor stung as it was sucked into Ronnie's nose. "Gah-ck!" She made a strange chocking sound as she tired to cough up the horrible smell. The two lucky guards left with wrinkled noses after Ronnie took a seat next to a very pale looking rich woman. Ronnie rapidity tapped her feet on the floor not paying attention to anything being said or done. Ronnie focused on trying to make the smell disappear by listening to the "tap. tap. tap" Her feet made when they hit the tile. Ronnie was ripped back into reality when the woman next to her protested in a shrill voice. Ronnie let out a sigh when a detective started to introduce himself and the woman in pricey clothes next to Ronnie answered quickly. "Why are we even down here?" Ronnie muttered loud enough for someone to her but was asking Carlos. Ronnie pulled her knees up to her chest a wrapped her arms around them tightly. She repeated the question much louder, this time directly aimed towards the detective. Her big eyes were holding a very scared questioning look.