#fake-escapes

[bxbycalista-blog]

Calista, you’ve had it so easy for someone who’s mother has had it so rough. Isn’t it about time we changed that?

[leonardo-neart-blog]

Leo, you’ve never been a good boy. Don’t forget that now that you aren’t at home.

It was lucky for Leo that his roommate had left, leaving him with the whole room free to have a meltdown over the latest phone call from his dearest mother. Why his therapist thought it was a good idea to ‘face his fears’ head on by monthly phone calls to his mother was beyond him. It wasn’t easy and he had outright refused in the beginning, but with a lot of persuasion and a few bribes he started to take part.

It was after the latest phone call, where it had been obvious that his mother was thoroughly drunk, and had been subjected to a barrage of harsh words. And despite knowing better he always hoped his mothers word would change during the phone calls. It was here, curled up under his bed, where he heard the beeps from his phone. Leo hadn’t many friends in school but there were a few he wished to hear from and, despite his mindset, crawled out and grabbed at his phone.

Oh god how he wished he never picked up that stupid, bribe-giving phone. This was not what he needed after the phone call. ‘Good boy’ Caused something to snap inside of him. Now standing he let out an angry, sad yell and threw the device across the room; watching it hit the wall with a satisfying thud. It was marginally disappointing that it didn’t break, like he wished, but it helped. A little. 

God E sucked. 

[kace-west-blog]

Kace, sometimes it’s hard separating a bad dream from reality. Fingers crossed you’ll wake up from this one.

Kace frowned softly, and shifted as his phone screen lit up his face. He wasn’t sure what this was, and what this E person wanted. Why would they would have any interest in him? His thumb hovered over his screen as he swallowed. Fingers crossed you’ll wake up from this one. He glanced around, checking to see if anyone was watching him, perhaps looking for a reaction. But nothing stood out, no one stood out. Even if they did, he was surrounded my masks and costumes, unidentifiable people. This dream they were referring to, he had no connection to, no connection he wanted to acknowledge, not tonight, not ever again. He pressed the home button, and stuffed his phone in his pocket. He knew the difference of reality, and dreams, of course he did. There wouldn’t be any need for waking up, he was awake, right now. And before. He was always awake, whether he wanted that or not. His memories never faded, they were fresh and lurking, forcing him to stay awake, even though with all this guilt dragging behind him, all these pent of fears, he wished he would sleep. He tucked his phone in his pocket, and gave another glance around before moving into the crowd to find Braelynn, he didn’t know who this person was, but he needed her in his sights at the least.

[harlowxanderson]

Harlow, you couldn’t save him. But can you save her?

Staring down at her phone, Harlow physically felt sick. All the colour had drained from her face and for a moment she was rendered speechless. The mention of Flynn alone made her chest tighten uncomfortably, but the threat at the end of it is what worried her most.. in fact the more she stared at it, the more anger she felt. She knew exactly who E was threatening, her sister.. and the blonde wouldn’t stand for that at all. Although no matter how angry she was, worry was the main emotion that flooded through her. Doing her best to calm her rapidly beating heart and keep a clear-ish head, Harlow looked around desperately in an attempt to find her way out and get to wherever Maisie was. The other girl meant the world to her, and if anything happened to her she wasn’t sure what she would do, how she would survive. One thing was for sure, she was getting to her sister as soon as possible, and no one was going to get in the way of that. 

[lordxwyatt-blog]

On Wyatt Clarke’s bedside table is a disfigured package wrapped in silver paper, with the name ‘Mr. Clarke’ printed neatly in dark green sharpie. Inside the package is two voodoo dolls: one doll of his sister, Amara, and one doll of the woman he loves, Emery. Both dolls are splattered in blood.

For those who know Wyatt completely, they’re aware of the fact that he has pretty good senses. Having been trained by his father at an early age to strengthen these senses had its own ups and downs, especially with him being a P.E teacher and all. It was a curse to walk into the gym and almost pass out from the odours his not-so-cleanly students possessed; so him returning to his room with a peculiar package on his beside table with an unpleasant aroma of copper set off the alarm bells in his head. 

“Hello?” he called out, afraid the sound of his rapidly beating heart would give him away were there an intruder still present in his room. Ears strained to the point where he was sure he could even hear the static noise of one of the other staff members’ tellies from down the hall, Wyatt was sure that whoever had the pleasure of delivering him such package was long gone by now. Step after step, he closed the distance between himself and his bedside table, gaze locked on his name. ‘Mr Clarke.’ From what he understood, the package was most likely sent by a student seeing as none of his colleagues referred to him as such, but ‘Wyatt’. 

At this point, the coppery smell was borderline overwhelming, almost convincing Wyatt not to open up the package that awaited him ever so patiently. Some part of him knew that he was going to regret opening it but he had an eerie feeling that if he wasn’t going to open it himself, someone could accidentally stumble upon it in his absence. Whatever was inside was covered with blood; that, he knew for sure. As if the package were aligned with explosives, Wyatt took caution in stripping it of its silver paper, unsealing the secret it held in store for him.

Scarlet coloured his vision, a slick splatter of blood covering two dolls which he couldn’t quite make out at first. Primarily, he had thought it was a cruel message sent to him concerning the two girls, Eve and Poppy; an inside joke only he and the one responsible for their disappearance (as well as Gunner’s) shared. But getting a closer look with blood on his hands, the two dolls in his head became realistic, having the faces of the two most important females in his life: Amara and Emery. What frightened him even more was the fact that they were voodoo dolls and everyone knew whatever happened to voodoo dolls happened to the one they resembled so the blood splattered over them had Wyatt panic. He wanted to call the both of them up and keep them in his sights forever but he knew that would only make matters worse.

They couldn’t see him like this– no one could.

The dolls fell to the ground as he lost his grasp on them, the blood on his hands now seeming to blind him. He rushed to the bathroom and tried to erase his skin of the scarlet colour it threatened to stain permanently, biting hard into his lip as concern and pain seeped into his being. Did this mean that Amara and Emery’s blood was going to be on his hands, as well as Gunner’s– was the blood Gunner’s? He was on the verge of a breakdown, rushing back out into the room to the sight of the dolls on the carpet near his bed, forcing himself to clear up the mess that he’d made in his moment of clumsiness. 

The harder he scrubbed the carpet, the further the bloodstain seemed to spread out. At this point, Wyatt had a cold film of sweat covering his body, heart beating fast as he refrained from letting this ‘gift’ assist him in shedding a tear. Doors locked, as well as the windows, he sat in his room trying to clean up the mess he had made, the blood and disinfectant laced together to create an aroma he knew he wouldn’t forget. 

Some say that he is still scrubbing his carpet of the blood to this day.

[whitneyxrossi]

Resting on top of Whitney Castle’s pillow at the head of her bed is a medium sized wooden box with a bow on top, her name scribbled in cursive on the top. Inside the box is is a large, old copy of Edgar Allen Poe poetry. Scratched into the cover is the message “say goodbye to your brother.”

With a bag so heavy she wobbles, Whitney walks into her room, immediately discarding it on the floor, for once not caring that she’s making a small mess by her bed. Running a hand trough her hair she is about to find a hairbrush in the bathroom when her eyes fall on the box on her pillow. A box? A legit wooden box.. Walking over she casually takes the lid off, expecting flowers or some prank, like a clown mask or something, but instead her eyes are fixed on a copy. A copy she knows very well. One she’s read about a million times in the last two years since her mother got it for her after a reading they went to together. Though there is a stark difference.. no copy she has ever owned has such scratches. At first she doesn’t notice the lettering, picking up the book to turn it on its sides, flip trough its pages. Turning the book back over her eyes finally sees the lettering, the message in its entirety. At first she just stares. And stares, as her eyes go wide and her breathing catches. Then she drops the book, as if it stings her fingers, hands shaking vehemently as she backs away from the box. Oh my god. Oh my god!! Was this someone confessing to killing Gunner? Was Eddie in danger? What on earth was she to make of this!? 

Tears in her eyes the brunette spins on her heel, barreling out of the room and down the corridor, leaving the door ajar behind her without a thought. All she can think about is finding her brother. Making sure he’s not disappeared too. Making sure he’s in one piece. Whatever else the message might mean, she has no time or mind to mull it over, not now. “EDDIE!?” she screams at the top of her lungs the second she sets foot inside the boys dormitory, gasping for breath as she rushes down the hall to his room, hammering on the door with both hands. “EDDIE OPEN UP! OPEN UP PLEASE!” When there’s no reply, no sound of movement, no answer, Whitney sinks to the floor, sobbing hysterically. 

[jk-eddie]

Placed on top of Eddie Castle’s desk is a small, rusty metal box with his name scribbled on the lid. Inside of the box is Gunner’s ring, sitting snugly upon his chopped off middle finger.

Walking into his room, Eddie whistled a tune that had been stuck in his head all day. He’d had a fairly good day, until he looked at his desk. Spotting the rusty metal box, his eyes narrowed as he put his bag down and walked over to the thing. He had seen Fake Escapes mention something about gifts, so he wasn’t super ecstatic to see it, but he also didn’t think it could be anything that bad… he was wrong.

The instant he opened the box, a putrid smell reached his nostrils, and along with the sight of the finger he would have gagged if he hadn’t laughed. Being a practical joker himself he knew how easy it was to fake something that looked so serious and gruesome, especially on halloween.. but then he saw the ring on the finger, and all colour drained from his face. Leaning down closer to the box, he refused to touch it and it took all but a few seconds for him to realise that it wasn’t just any finger, or any ring.. it was Gunner’s ring, and Gunner’s finger.  Eddie’s stomach churned and within seconds he was kneeling over the paper bin by his desk, his stomach contents emptying before he could even stop it. This was serious, and obviously a warning of some sort.. but it also confirmed one very big thing. Gunner wasn’t safe and healthy and on vacation, he wasn’t sure if he was dead or alive, but he was definitely one digit down. Once his stomach was completely empty, Eddie stood up slowly, closing the box without looking at the contents. He looked around the room, frantically trying to figure out what to do with it before he saw the mini fridge in the room. It held a little freezer that he definitely didn’t use, so deciding that was better than the bottom of his cupboard, he hid the metal box in there, slamming the door shut a little too hard. Still feeling extremely sick, he opened his dorm window before leaving the room quickly. He didn’t know where he was going, but he needed to be anywhere but there..

[harlowxanderson]

[TEXT] Harlow my sweet cupcake, good job on assisting Pascal with our little punch surprise. I bet you didn't think Kace would react that badly to it.. it'd be a shame if he found out it was you.. but don't worry! I won't tell him, IF you get your partner in crime to help you vandalise Headmistress Patterson's office. You both did so well last time, I know you won't let me down now. xx E.

Harlow was just about to leave her dorm room when her phone buzzed in her pocket. She had had a smile on her face most of the morning, but the instant she got a glimpse of the message and the unknown sender her heart sank. Opening it with shaky hands, Harlow bit her lip as she read the text. Kace couldn’t find out about her spiking the punch. Sure she had done it to help Pascal and stop E from doing anything psychotic to his sister, but she wasn’t going to throw an excuse like that at Kace. The truth was, what she had done had hurt someone she cared very deeply about, but she wouldn’t have changed it at all, especially because of the dire circumstances. However that didn’t mean she wanted Kace to know. Nope that was never happening.. so exiting out of the text from E, she sent a text to Pascal: “I need you to meet me by the oval bleachers at 7pm please. It’s important.. I need your help.” @pascal-andean