#bbgroupstarter

[x--remi-blog]

                “Yeah I’m listening but this fucker keeps asking if I want to suck his balls —- how romantic, I might just have to marry him —- okay, carry on”

[lyssavxlentine-blog]

The echoing sound of her slow, methodical clapping wasn’t intended to drown out any of the panic, rather, only to spike those who were attentive enough to hear it. It was quite a show, and one that even Lyssa could appreciate. Like trapped rats, waiting for the heat to kick in. “--- I’ve gotta say, this place really knows how to impress.”

[zxcallahxn-blog]

“They’ve blocked all exits, you’re just going to hurt yourself trying.” He noted without any air of doubt. Whoever it was had all but sealed them in a fucking tomb, and that bothered him more than he’d like to have admitted. “Take a seat, we’re dealing with it as best we can --- but we can’t do our job if you’re getting in the way.”

[tatelxpez-blog]

“Twenty bucks says by the end of the night Mrs Schiller murders Mr Schiller for relentlessly cracking on with any woman in sight. In the cafeteria with a soup ladle.”

[devlinclxry-blog]

"I’m not asking because I actually want to know. I’m asking because I’m bored and you’re here so make it interesting; lie to me, I don’t care.”

[scxtthastings-blog]

“Secrets? What kind of bullshit is this?” It didn’t make sense, none of it did. Not the messages, not the stupid video and not this. What kind of secret warranted the kidnapping of a completely innocent girl? It was sick -- and it turned his stomach something fierce. Of course, he had his own secrets, but he didn’t think for a second that this had anything to do with it; how could it? His secret was buried beneath lawyers and pay offs. “--- Where’s the projector? There’s gotta’ be something hooked up to that, right?”

[x-is-watching-blog]

UNKNOWN NUMBER | TEXT

MASS TEXT: Did you really think you could keep it a secret forever? I've been watching and it's about time somebody revealed the truth. I hope you're ready because the game's just begun. - X

[silaskinkade-blog]

"I don’ wan...na talk ‘bout it.” He managed between bites of homemade waffle, served up by the same diner waitress who practically came with the establishment. Forty years she’d been there? Something like that, Silas could never quite remember the number once food appeared. Once his mouth finally cleared, the deputy addressed his newfound company. “Not on the clock for another hour and after last night, all emergencies can wait till I’m good and ready.”