'Drip'
'Drop'
'Drip'
'Drop'
A group of 5 people, 2 boys and 3 girls, were walking. They have been walking for a while, then running, but now, they are walking. They used to be a group of 10 people, a perfect number that boasts of being the first double digit, but now, they were the pathetic five only used as a warning sign, a notification that shows they are halfway to ten, or to zero. This group was the latter.
'Drip'
'Drop'
'Drip'
'Drop'
The droplets falling above from the damp surface on the roof causing many echos to form in the large area wasn't a beautiful thing like the water they were running low on, but blood. The reason they are walking and not running is because they have learned, adapted and survived in this harsh environment to know, it's not good to run on a full stomach.
'Drip'
'Drop'
'Drip'
'Thump'
The group immediately tensed up and got their weapons out. 1 of the boys had a large white club made from bone while the other boy had a makeshift crossbow from bones and tendons of a bear with more arms than a bear should really have with a bolt made from bone already loaded into it, ready to impale whatever unfortunate soul was down there with them. That boy is a rather crafty one, making a firing system that was like a regular crossbow with just the resources around him. The girls all had bows that fired arrows from the delicate bones of a few stray rats that are around.
'Drip'
'Drop'
The blood on the damp, cold ceiling has stopped dripping. Probably due to the many hundreds of rats drinking the blood that has moved across the ceiling to an area that is over the wall ahead. The group wasn't worried about the rats, they were worried about the foreign sound. As they cautiously approached they used the blood, now but one of the many stains on the cold, hard roof as a frame of reference to slowly maneuver their way over.
"AHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."
A scream, a sound all too common in this place but barely makes a difference to the others who hear. The sounds were too far away to hurt them, to their ears a small whisper carried over the vast lands. They could help, but they learned not to help those in need, they learned from experience. They also knew that if that scream carried over, then they were over the wall, and that meant they were already reduced to nothing, not even bone. You never go over the wall, The Ones, or that is what they are called here, put two rats on the walls in this area to make sure knowone climbed over. Two rats alone wouldn't do much due to the massive size of the estate, but they bred. They number in the millions now, maybe even higher. Not even I know the number of the rats but I will not go to check, even the suicidal don't want to have such a painful and cruel death.
'Drip'
'Drop'
'Drip'
'Drop'
The group continued walking, now in a little brighter mood due to knowing that there is one less group to contend over food now. They turned the corner of a wall to find... A circus tent. A rather run down one for sure, with ripped seams and broken banisters, but everyone knew that you couldn't build anything in this place. The rats would come and immediately destroy any structure made for people to stay or hide. Now, they were extra vigilant. If this place wasn't decimated, they must be made by The Ones, and that meant. Let's just say looks can be deceiving, sometimes to 'deadly' lengths.
They cautiously entered through the large opening, half covered by the ripped cloth, and saw, an empty stage, with cracked balls, hanging trapeze bars, and in the middle, a circular platform above of the stage with fun patterns of red white and blue painted on the sides leading to the flat top, completely different from the rest as it is in pristine condition. On the sides were long rows of stands, made for about a few hundred. In front of them was a large sign barely hanging onto the ropes that hold it on the roof, saying the words 'Please sit in the spectator seats and wait for the show to begin!' The group obediently went to the stands because they knew that if The Ones tell you to do something, you do it.
As soon as the group sat down, the lights cut out, leaving them swallowed by the darkness. But before they could even react, another light went on focused in a single small line, leaving the rest of the area in the dark, shining onto the little platform that now has a person on it. With a black pair of leather shoes, a black pair of dress pants with thin gray lines on it, A black suit with the same pattern, a wrist watch with all the times saying 6 in roman numerals, and a black cane that the man doesn't need but uses anyways, and a pure white face without any features, causing you to wonder how it breathes, but this place doesn't care about physics anyways, with a comically large top hat that swallows half of its head.
'Drip'
'Drop'
'Drip'
'Drop'
A group of four people exit a run down circus tent. They were walking, not running, not hiding, but walking. They used to be ten, a perfect number, then five, an imperfect number, now, four. Inside that tent could have been a world of imagination, sparking the mind with a myriad of colors. But this group knew there was no joy in the labyrinth, only pain. So they did not want to see the show. They do not know of the wonders or tragedies that might have happened if they had watched the show, but what they do know is, to not run on a full stomach
'Drip'
'Drop'
'Drip'
'Drop'