OPEN STARTER: STACI PRATT & JOEY HUDSON
“Cull the herd, sacrifice the weak. Cull the herd, sacrifice the weak.”
How ironic it was that the words that filled Staci’s body with terror were the only ones that he could repeat to give his nervous system a glint of what he could remember relaxation felt like. Matter of fact, he couldn’t remember much of whom he even was. He felt like a shell of his prior self, like it was all a performance and this was his true self; the broken down anxious mess that Jacob made him into. Just a week ago he was able to recite his badge number with pride and ease to anyone who requested, quick to name his accolades that made him move to a small place like Hope County in the first place. But now, all he could do was rock back and forth and attempt to soothe himself in the poorly lit cabin while Joey stayed perched up by the front window with a shotgun ready to blow in her arms.
An annoyed growl directed at Staci threatened to leave her lips, but the rare appearance of empathy entered her heart and forced it to go mute. The paraphernalia of cages and mysterious liquids on the floor of the rotting house she found her partner in was enough to leave her speechless, she could just imagine the terrors running through his mind. At least John had given her a mattress to lay on.
The harrowing sound of a knock at the front door echoing through the damn near empty cabin sent both of them into an unregulated state. Staci was quick to disappear into the lesser lit hallway where he’d at least stay hidden long enough to know whether he needed to fight, flee, or stay put.
The thump of a small handgun landing on the wood panels in front of him brought him out of his trancelike state and, like his partner who was brave enough to be right behind the door, he positioned himself ready for whatever or whoever was going to come their way.
“Who is it!?” She lets out in a growl, “Be quick before we blast your fucking head off!”