keepsthemsafe: (now hold on.)
[Shane, it's safe to say...has been absent. There's not enough soap in the world, and of course he's not going to go get help. This isn't the CDC, nobody wants to kill him but Oh dear god this place might be worse then the CDC.

And what's worse is Lori. He knew she was there, he felt her. He felt her. And how that ended...]


So much for safety am I right? Is this a regular thing? A driver that takes people up to hotels that like to fuck with your head?

I understand that in order for one of the inmates to make demands they require a warden to ask for items. Am I right about that?

I want to speak with one of them.


[Via text. Nobody is getting video. There's a reason for this.]

[INMATE SHOWER SPAM]

[It's a safe bet to say that Shane hasn't moved from the shower since that happened. There's not enough soap or hot water. He alternates between sitting underneath the scalding hot water, drying off, standing outside and then...heading back in and drowning himself in steaming hot water and soap.

Nothing to be done, or so he figures. It's almost out of his system, he hopes. He's almost forgotten it. You can catch him either in the shower trying to drown himself or outside trying to resist the urge to walk back in with a grim and haggard expression on himself.]
keepsthemsafe: (um.)
[There is silence on the feed for the longest time, then snow static. Anyone who might be watching their feed will be watching it dissolve into almost painfully loud crackles and pops of snow - then the interference of White Noise.]


Cut for Descriptions of Gore, zombies, and gross. )

[An hour later, maybe two, maybe three (who can tell with time when you're on Vacation?) There's a second text from Shane sent to everyone.]

You're all pretty much dead anyway

[The hotel and his dead girlfriend-who-was-also-his-best-friend's-wife said so.]
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