Activity

Ok, here’s Will’s entrance.  It’s really long (sorry) and not very good but whatever, I don’t really care. 😉

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Will smelled the rain before it fell.  It was early morning, still dark.  His feet hit the pavement, creating a rhythm that matched his rapid heartbeat.  Sweat dripped into his eyes and onto the asphalt.  The hilt of his gun cut into his lower back.
Headquarters wasn’t far away, but Will knew that the rain would fall before he got back.  He pulled his hood up and pushed his loose earbuds into place.  The sounds of the city were blocked out by the music, loud and low.
Will kept his eyes ahead, never looking behind or to the side.  He didn’t need to:  he could sense it all.  The approaching cars, the occasional early riser.  It was a sixth sense that he’d always had.
The first drops began to fall, splattering large spots on the pavement.  Will continued down the sidewalk, keeping cover under the big oak trees encroaching over the park fence.  He came to a crosswalk and waited, jogging in place.  The traffic and the lights blurred together as the rain began to fall more heavily.  He slipped a wet hand over his eyes and crossed the street.
On the other side, he picked up his pace again, falling into a quick run.
Five minutes passed before he reached Headquarters.  The tall, chain-link perimeter loomed up like a prison fence in the darkness.  Will passed by the guard shack with a salute to the yawning sentinel.  He knew the compound like the back of his hand, and didn’t want to see it again.  Every single day was the same.  Run.  Work.  Repeat.
It couldn’t be all there was to life.  Could it?  Inside every part of that routine, beneath his every action, the question lay there.  No one answered it.  No one had an answer.  All there was to life for them was to liberate the Citizens.
After that, what next?
Will didn’t know.  He wouldn’t know until it was over with.  And he hated it.
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An hour later, he slumped in the bathroom doorway, scarlet from the hot shower and wearing a gray sweatshirt and shorts.  He ran a hand over his jaw-line, staring blankly at his bedroom.  There was the bed, neatly made.  A lamp without a lightbulb rested on the nightstand.  The desk in the corner was empty.
The place was plain, simple, and aggravating.  Will’s eyes fixed on the lamp.  It was visibly chipped and scratched, and Will had no recollection of where he’d found it.  But it was always there.  Like everything in his life.  There, but useless.
Then the shaking started.  Soft, at first, but getting stronger.  The lamp teetered on the edge of the nightstand, then fell and smashed on the floor.  Will dropped into a crouch, hand clutching the gun in his waistband on impulse.  His head spun and his fell to his knees, blinking and shaking his head.  Dark spots appeared in the corners of his eyes.  The world spun, so, so fast.
He remembered no more.
Silence.
Then…
Tick, tock.
Tick, tock.
Tick, tock.
Will found the hilt of his gun before he could open his eyes, his fingers combing through soft carpet.  When he looked around, he swore under his breath.
He was in a wide, circular room.  The light was dim—too dim to make out much but the underside of a table and doors all along the wall.  Uniform, except for the colors.  There were too many to count at once.  It had to have been the fall that had blurred his vision, but every time he looked at the doors, they moved like the tide, ebbing and flowing in a confusing array of color.
The ticking clock was nowhere to be seen.
I’m dreaming, he tried to convince himself.
Will shook his head to clear it and got to his feet.  Where was he?  The shiny tabletop had been empty when he arrived, but now it sparkled to life.  Some sort of holographic image was projected on the surface.  As Will looked closer, small words labeled each of the dots on the image.   Will squinted at the labels, his vision still muddled from the fall.
Then a gust of wind blew him backward, knocking him into the table and to the ground.  A giant figure appeared across the room, falling to the ground in a tangle of feathers and hair.  Will scrambled back, heart pounding against his ribcage.  His back hit the nearest door, and he scrabbled around for the handle, keeping his eyes on the figure, who now had opened it’s…wings.
Will shut the door as the figure spun, brandishing twin knives.  He gasped for breath, finger resting on the trigger of his gun.  Blood pounded in his ears, blocking out all noise.
Will slumped against the door and turned to face the room.

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Lame ending, I know XD

Who wants to write next?  Since all y’alls characters are together, it might be kinda challenging, idk.