So I got married.. (TTW with Huxley, Ethan and Freya)

[Hannah van de Berg]

The gas had once again knocked Hannah out cold. How many times were she to fall on the ground and bruise her body to the cement of the building? She had absolutely no clue. She did not feel like she wanted to get up but knew that she had to get up. If not for herself it should be to keep freya company. The last thing this poor girl needed was to be all alone in this strange room they turned out to be stuck in. 

Somewhere deep down she hoped this was all a messed up dream. That she would wake up in her own bed and needed to walk the dog and get to work in 5 minutes. However the burning pain at her ankle assured her this was not the case. As she slowly opened her eyes and sat up she noticed she was still wearing the beautiful but restricting lace dress. She took a deep breath. So it did happen. She did marry Geoff. This was insane. Absolutely insane.  She got up from the bed as she moved over to freya who was still asleep. Now it was Hannah's turn to gently wake her up.  " Freya.. Freya please wake up.. we need to talk.." she said softly as she gently placed a hand on her arm as she got to her level. She hoped she wouldn't scare her. She needed to tell Freya what happened. She needed to warn as many people as she could. If she could make sure less people would be hurt then she would do what she could.

[Freya Alexander]

Freya’s dreams were riddled with inauspiciously strange and contorted visions. Having been thrown into this mess of a scenario made her night-terrors a reality, and reality… well… something short of being utterly unfathomable. She distinctly recalled – rolling over in her sleep – that she was floating. High above the clouds, as free as she could be; a lack of wings seldom halting her in her flight. She was like Wendy Darling, belief of her own childish innocence allowing her to soar higher and higher, breaking through the cotton-like clouds that bit at her face.

But, then she was falling. Suddenly, the feeling of vertigo surging up like the sickness in her stomach, threatening to splatter against the hypothetical ground she was plummeting towards. A swarm of pidgeons watched in mock humour as this plucked chicken was doing a poor job at floating, never mind rising. They cooed distasteful remarks at her, shaking beady-eyed heads at her.

“Freya… Freya please wake up… we need to talk…”

Holy fucking shit, the birds talked.

Freya cried out in fear, visions of Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds nesting in her brain at the thought of these foul fowl plucking out her eyes; her tongue; eating her alive. Freya snapped awake with a fright, leaping up and against the wall from where she was sleeping. Had she fallen asleep on the floor? The last thing she had remembered was… talking to Ethan! That’s right; perhaps she fell asleep in that position?

“Hannah?!”

Chest heaving, the wild-eyed-flurry-of-pink girl met the eyes of Hannah, and a swell of sudden relief met her. Oh my god, it was… It WAS just a dream. Freya coughed and allowed her tremors to fall from their peak. As the moments passed, Freya caught sight of her companion’s dress. And as utterly gorgeous as it was, seeing it on the lithe form of her friend in the circumstances made cause for her to furrow her brow in confusion.

Flashes of the store cupboard fell before her, and the dummy adorned in the pretty-but-torn wedding gown prickled at the back of her mind. She couldn’t imagine that it could relate; perhaps it was a hallucination. Anything was possible, it seemed.

“You... You look beautiful, Hannah,” is what she croaked, a faint smile ghosting her lips. “I didn’t know I was late to your wedding.” A joke, indeed, perhaps poorly timed, as she saw the woman’s concern creeping onto her face as if it pained her. Getting to a shaky stand, Freya brushed off the last of the sleep in her bones. The gas seemed to take a long while to fully leave their systems, which left her more exposed to fooling herself again.

She approached her friend and stood, looking up at the woman, in genuine apprehension for the lady. “Are you alright, Hannah?”

[Ethan Kaul]

It had finally happened.

After little over a day of begging (which, for Ethan, had felt like a lifetime), Huxley had finally agreed upon having a workout session with Ethan. He'd reasoned that they needed to keep up their strength (or, in the case of Huxley, build some) in order to escape. Freya had mentioned a gun being involved, and there was the possibility of one of them needing to wrestle it out of their assailants hands. Even if that didn't happen, they needed to be prepared, just in case.

Unfortunately for Ethan, Huxley wasn't exactly the athletic type. In fact, the older man hadn't even managed one push up, falling onto his stomach as soon as he'd tried. It was simultaneously amusing and frustrating to watch him attempt to keep up; even though the younger man hadn't properly exercised in god knows how long, he was still miles better than his companion. Still, he wasn't going to let him give up. A little bit of exercise would do him some good, especially since he had been feeling down.

"Come on Huxley!" Ethan called out to him as he continued with his crunches, "You're acting like you're eighty, not forty! You need to keep up your strength if we're going to escape!"

The poor older man was just lying on the floor, wheezing. Before he could say anything in response, there was a loud shriek through the wall. Instantly, Ethan stopped his exercise, recognising the voice as Freya's.

"That was Freya, the girl I told you about," he furrowed his brow, looking over at Huxley, "I think we should investigate. I'll bench press you later."

He didn't wait for a reply this time before knocking on the wall separating the two rooms.

"Freya? You alright in there?"

[Huxley Weisenbachfeld]

Absolutely not. Huxley had enough “workout sessions” with Sawyer to know that his body could not handle the pressure. But the doctor kept on nagging and nagging. Worst of it is he was completely right. If it came to a physical fight he didn’t stand a chance. Perhaps he could try and diagnose the person? That might throw them off?
All the jumping up and down, he got dizzier and dizzier. He definitely wasn’t used to moving his body this way in a loooong time.
“I’ll have you know I was a five-time champion in a ballet competition back at university!” the old man croaked out of breath. Ah yes. Those were the days. Dancing on stage as graceful as a swan.... but now these push-ups were getting the best of him. He gave up and let his body fall to the ground face first. This was impossible. How were his weak small boney arms supposed to support his whole body?

Suddenly he heard a loud shriek. Was he dying? Is he hearing the voice of the angels calling him towards the light? No, sadly. As he heard Ethan say, it was Freya. But wait.. Huxley looked up from the floor. No the girl wasn’t in the room. Then where…?

"I think we should investigate. I'll bench press you later."
Huxley let out a relieved sigh. Oh thank god!! Freya just saved his life. He definitely couldn’t handle being bench pressed at the moment. He watched as Ethan walked up to the wall and knocked. Wha? Was he losing his mind? Talking to people over the wall, that’s ridiculous!! Were these walls really THAT thin? Well nevertheless he managed to stand up and walked over to the wall as well.
“Hello! Professor Huxley speaking!” no this wasn’t a phone call what was he doing? “Uh.. anyone on the other side?” hah nailed it. He turned to Ethan and gave him a wink and a thumbs up, as if to say: I’m handling this sooo well aren’t I?

[Hannah van de Berg]

Hannah looked at the poor girl as her eyes suddenly went wide open. The brunette felt bad for the girls poor body. The position she had been sleeping in looked anything but comfortable. She got to Freya's level giving her a small smile to assure her there was no harm done.

“Hannah?!” She asked in a scared voice. Hannah nodded. " yes, sorry to wake you like this" she said softly. she could only imagine how stressed out freya had already been. They had both been gassed an unhealthy amount and she could only guess what it was doing to their sleep pattern or body in general. When freya told Hannah that she looked beautiful Hannah was a bit surprised. She had not heard that in forever. Katherine had mentioned something about her dress looking amazing but, that was a dress. " well uhm" she did not know how to respond to that. Luckily she didn't really have to as she heard freya joke about a wedding. Oh.. if only she knew.
Hannah smiled weakly. "well.. About that" she started. When asked if she was okay she nodded. " uhm yes, yes i suppose, it's a long story" she rubbed the back of her neck feeling a bit uneasy. She was not okay. Her ankle was fried just like her husband. God she did not want to think about how much his body must hurt at the moment. Before she could explain what was going on she heard someone call out. It was muffled but it was certainly there.

"Freya? You alright in there?" She heard a male voice. She looked at freya. " Are those.. the people in the room next to us?" she asked. “Hello! Professor Huxley speaking!” She heard someone else. It had to be. Good that way she could tell everything at once. " Freya, I can explain what happened but i suppose your friends on the other side might want to join in. This might be important for them as well. Do they know about the ... shooting thing?"

[Freya Alexander]

It was a long story? So… Freya supposed the gassing had some other purpose than to provide them with an irregular sleeping pattern; it made sense if there were some history behind whatever goings on just happened. Had Hannah endured something particularly horrific? She didn’t SEEM hurt! But Freya knew the pain people could hide within themselves, and she didn’t want to push the lovely woman beyond what she was willing to ‘provide’ her.

With her shriek, it was guaranteed that Ethan likely would have heard the sudden commotion. Poor lad, she must’ve yelped as if she were a puppy being stood on. She wasn’t exactly the quiet sort, and when he had exclaimed concern over her bashing her foot against the wall, something like a yell was bound to attract his attention.

“I’m okay, Ethan! Sorry just-” she eyed up Hannah momentarily, her mouth opening as if she were a fish, the words leaving her. “-had a nightmare!” she added hastily, rubbing a hand nervously through her mass of pink hair. She really needed to wash it but attempting the shower without conditioner was going to prove to be poor for everyone. She imagined what would happen if she were gassed whilst having a shower, and a shiver ran down her spine. If she didn’t drown, the hypothermia would get her.

Turning her attention to Hannah, who had asked who had just yelled, she smiled tenderly and confirmed her suspicions: “Yeah- It’s Ethan and Professor Huxley next door. The rooms haven’t exactly got sound proofing. So, it’s no surprise, really.” She considered the amount of rooms it would have taken to accommodate the amount of people who she had woken up around. Two to a room; it had to be a hotel-sized building, at the very least. Surely that would attract attention! Derelict buildings weren’t quite averse to attention.

Her thought was promptly interrupted by the loud bellow of Ethan’s fellow ‘roomie’: “Hello! Professor Huxley speaking! Uh.. anyone on the other side?” So, the infamous Huxley was alive, so to speak, and Ethan had not QUITE killed him yet. That brought a smile to her lips; imagining what type of events the two could host to stay amused. Freya couldn’t imagine they would all be successful.

“Hello, Huxley! It’s Hannah and I – Are you both doing okay?” She called in return, just as Hannah asked her own question.

"Freya, I can explain what happened, but I suppose your friends on the other side might want to join in. This might be important for them as well. Do they know about the ... shooting thing?" At this, Freya’s mouth set into a thin line, as she considered their options for a moment. It would be a good idea for everyone to be aware of everything that was happening, but if Hannah were uncomfortable with it, she’d never want to force her into such a scenario to make her relive something regrettable. Of course, she’d have to tenderly oversee it.

“I told Ethan the gruesome details. They know about it, or, they should – if he told Huxley. Take it at your own pace, Hannah,” the girl replied gently, her eyes softening in an intense concern for her. “Does… Does it have something to do with you being… ‘chosen’?”

[Ethan Kaul]

“I’ll have you know I was a five-time champion in a ballet competition back at university!”

Oh, Ethan didn't doubt that, but the thought of Huxley in a tutu and pointe shoes made him snort with laughter.

"Okay, I need to hear more about this later," he choked out through peals of laughter, "Because the mental images I'm getting now are just... wonderful."

Once he'd calmed down, he turned his attention back to the wall. Freya assured him she was okay, but he knew better than to take her at her word. He'd learned how good she was at trying to repress any outward display of emotion, and so her words only caused him more concern.

Huxley, meanwhile, seemed to believe that God himself was on the other side of the wall judging by the look on his face, however once Ethan let him know that it was actually two girls and not the Messiah, he decided to use the wall as a phone instead.

“Hello! Professor Huxley speaking!”

A chuckle escaped Ethan's lips. This man was really... something, that was for sure. He shook his head in disbelief at the look the professor gave him, a smug smile that conveyed how well he believed he was doing.

“Hello, Huxley! It’s Hannah and I – Are you both doing okay?” Freya replied. I could ask you the same thing, Ethan thought. 

"We're doing... as well as we can be in this hellhole. We were just doing a workout, actually. Are you both okay?"

He could hear Hannah on the other side question whether the two men knew about the "shooting", and it dawned upon him that he hadn't even thought to tell Huxley. Perhaps a part of him wanted to save the older man from panicking - after all, he hadn't taken Ethan being upset at him well, a fake shooting wasn't going to go down brilliantly - but most likely, he had simply forgotten, too consumed in his own worries to even think of letting the old man know that they could be shot at any moment.

"Oh, uh, okay, quick rundown for you Huxley, basically..." he chewed on the corner of his lip, "There was a Russian Roulette style shooting with ten girls, two of them being Freya and Hannah. Hannah got shot, except it was with confetti and not a bullet... none of us really know what it means..."

Maybe that was what Hannah was trying to tell them. The mood had shifted considerably, from jovial to incredibly tense, and Ethan wasn't sure he was going to like what came out of her mouth next.

"Unless... unless you know? Is that what you're trying to tell us about?" he asked softly, directing his question at Hannah.

[Huxley Weisenbachfeld]

"Okay, I need to hear more about this later," he choked out through peals of laughter, "Because the mental images I'm getting now are just... wonderful."
“You better believe no one could match up to my plie. I take a lot of pride in that” the professor recalled. Ah yes those were his golden years. “Hello, Huxley! It’s Hannah and I – Are you both doing okay?” He recognized her voice right away. Pinky! And another woman named Hannah who he hadn’t met yet.

“Nice to know that there are other people here! Not to be rude or anything Ethan, but I almost spit my lungs out before the girls so kindly interrupted us, so thank you ladies!” “Oh and I don’t believe we’ve met before Hannah. I’m Psychology Professor Huxley Weisenbachfeld from the Maidefield University” he reached his hand out to shake, then he realized that the wall was going to be a problem, so after a few seconds of hesitating he ended up slowly and awkwardly patting the wall two times, then scratching his head. Speaking through the wall with people is definitely takes getting used to.

The topic then switched to something he had no idea about. Gruesome details? What was going on? Did something happen already? Someone got hurt?
"Oh, uh, okay, quick rundown for you Huxley, basically there was a Russian Roulette style shooting with ten girls, two of them being Freya and Hannah. Hannah got shot, except it was with confetti and not a bullet... none of us really know what it means..."

The professor's eyes grew huge as he listened and all he could do was blink twice. For a few minutes she tried to comprehend what he heard, while his eyes squinted and he was continually mouthing: Whaaa--wahaaaaa-waahahhaa??? He had too many questions. How did they all get there? Who shut them? How did they get back? He couldn’t even imagine it, the whole scenario just sounded way to bizarre. Finally after having a short brain shut down he managed to audible say: “WhaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAT??! How- Who- ….Whaaaaaaaat??” then he turned back to the wall.

“G-girls that’s terrible, this is really a hostage situation, but no one got hurt? Oh mark my words, when I get my hands on this person who disrespects human rights in such a disgusting manner I’m gonna- I- I’m gonnaaa…I’M GONNA EAT THEM UP! Yes… FOR DINNER!!” he said as he finally found the words he was looking for. Big words from a small man, he always had a big mouth, but when it came to real action he was a coward. Still that never stopped him from speaking his mind about teaching people like these a lesson.

He cleared his throat realizing the heaviness of the situation. This really was no game anymore. “Yes well, what did you wanna tell us?” he switched the topic back onto the reason why they were here.

“Ethan help me look for a hole, maybe we could find something behind the paintings or the bed.” Even just a peeping hole would’ve been nice so they could see each other and talk like normal humans.


[PERCEPTION ROLL: Huxley and Ethan look for a hole.]

[Madge Baker]

PERCEPTION CHECK: Huxley and Ethan look for a hole.

RESULT: 8 - Unfortunately both men couldn't find anything that reminded them of an actual hole for a good while and after scraping their knees for 10 minutes straight anybody would already feel desperate to find it. Plus, there were no paintings in the rooms, just plain orange walls, so examining those was a pretty easy task. However, Huxley indeed managed to find something. Not a hole, but a crack in the wall. It wasn't big, half an inch (1,25cm) wide in the far left corner of the room. You can stick a pencil or a piece of paper through it, but that's about it.

P.S. Since this check was already made twice - next time to find an actual hole in the wall you will have to roll a 10 out of 10. </3 Sorry guys you've inspected this wall so thoroughly so there is a very low chance that you have missed a spot.

[Hannah van de Berg]

Take it at your own pace freya told her. Hannah sighed relaxing a bit as she looked at Freya with a soft yet sad smile. " I am afraid it is too late for that" She said as she gently took Freya's hand. " But thank you.. you have been nothing but kind to me since we woke up here. I can only imagine how scared you must have been. But freya i want you to know that you don't need to keep yourself together for me." She said softly. " That would not be fair to you.. This situation is anything but allright, so please do not feel like you have to act like it is for my sake. " She said as she gave her former student a kind smile returning Freya's concerned look. Freya had been so strong for her sake. She could only imagine how hard it was.

She could hear Ethan giving the man a quick recap as she gently let go of freya's hand not wanting to restrain her. When Ethan was done telling what had been going on she could hear how incredibly shocked the professor was. Hannah looked down as she took a deep breath. " Yes. It is about that." She looked at Freya as she was the only one she could truely make eye contact with. " As you might remember I did not arrive here in this dress" she said. " After we went to bed when that horrible shooting thing happened, I woke up on a chair in some kind of dimly lit basement. There was an electric type of shock collar around my ankle and I was put in this wedding dress and-" she stopped for a moment as she tried to recall everything the best she could. She looked at her ankle, the burn marks still there. " I was forced to Marry the man who had to shoot me. I had no choice because the shock I got for not replying straight away was nothing compared to the shock my supposedly new husband was put through" She said as she found her hands were shaking. She leaned with her back against the wall for some type of support. " I am telling you because.. I do not believe Geoff and I will be the only people forced to do things against their will". She gave freya a serious look. " And I want to make sure everyone knows, for I want all of you to be.. as safe as you possibly can. " she said. " you need to know what you can expect.."

[Freya Alexander]

Freya fell silent at Hannah’s gentle, ominous remark about her own sanity. Aghast, she looked up at the woman – who took her hand – and felt a pang of pain in her chest. Freya squeezed her fingers over Hannah’s, perhaps less as a reassurance to her, but herself. Most people seemed to be seeing right through her façade nowadays, and it was little comfort knowing her guard wasn’t as impenetrable as she had thought.

Feeling a little stunned, the girl’s mouth fell into a thin line, allowing a moment to compose herself. “I’m alright, truly,” she muttered, with as much enthusiasm as she could muster – which was entirely none. Blinking back tears as their attention was caught by Ethan, Freya snapped back into her cheerful self; perhaps a little overzealously so. ‘Bubbly’ would have been an understatement for Freya’s demeanour. ‘Manic’ was more likely, her eyes not quite reaching the same ‘happiness’ she had accrued.

“We’re happy and healthy,” the girl replied, swallowing back the break that threatened in her tone of voice. She couldn’t quite meet Hannah’s eyes, who she knew was looking directly at her. Don’t be so foolish, Freya. They all can see right through you; you’re a perfect little failure. You’re so exposed and alone; exposed and alone. Shaking the thoughts away, the pink-haired gremlin turned to stare directly at the wall, just as Huxley’s aghast voice was heard screeching through to them.

She smiled at that, though pained, as the man had a way of confusing her to the point of humour. He seemed to really care, however, and that’s all Freya regarded as important. The thought of the rather fit and Healthy Ethan whipping the older gentleman into shape was a clear source of humour to her, and Freya found her mind wandering to that in a way to distract from the realities she was facing currently. Then… Huxley also wanted to look for a hole? It made sense; likely that Ethan hadn’t filled him in on their own efforts.

“Huxley, I’m not sure there IS a hole, is there?” A moment passed, and Freya hadn’t received any distinct notion as to the result of their efforts, so finally met Hannah’s eyes once more, which were alight in a pain she had never seen in her old teacher before.

And then Hannah told her story.

With every new piece of information, Freya felt more and more nauseous, her heart racing in a way she couldn’t explain. Eyes flickering down to Hannah’s ankle, she noticed the distinct scorch marks on her flesh, and Freya visibly flinched in a disgust and resentment for whoever could do that to such a kind soul that was her teacher.

"And I want to make sure everyone knows, for I want all of you to be… as safe as you possibly can. You need to know what you can expect…” Freya felt truly numb, a wash of dizziness swelling over her as the nausea grew to a peak. The girl visibly paled, though she reached a trembling hand to meet Hannah’s, who seemed worse for wear, more than she had ever seen her before. Looking at her ankle, at the dress, Freya grasped that she could do nothing to help her. She was knocked out so callously and hadn’t realised what had even happened to her. Treating this whole predicament like a joke was a coping mechanism, but it wasn’t going to last.

“That’s so fucked…” She bit her lip, hard, until she felt the skin dip and threaten to split. Turning to the bed, Freya stumbled before she sat down on the duvet, head in her hands. “Hannah, I’m so sorry that happened to you. What do we do?”

[Ethan Kaul]

Well, Huxley's reaction to that overload of information was quite... something. Ethan wasn't sure whether his threat to "eat them up for dinner" would deter their captor in the slightest, nor was he entirely certain that either of the girls would appreciate it. A cannibalistic Huxley wasn't exactly the ideal roommate, either. Still, after his brief outburst, the older man seemed to sense the weight of the situation, his (still red and sweaty) face switching to a more serious expression.

“Ethan help me look for a hole, maybe we could find something behind the paintings or the bed.”

Oh god, not this hole business again. It had already caused Ethan and Freya enough grief, and he was about to open his mouth to let him know that he wasn't going to find anything when the pink-haired girl beat him to it.

“Huxley, I’m not sure there IS a hole, is there?"

"Yeah, we looked earlier and we didn't see anything..." He trailed off, as out of the corner of his eye he spotted something.

"Wait, what's that?" A crack! Not exactly the hole they had desired (Freya certainly wasn't going to be able to reach her arm through it, as tiny as she may be), but something that may allow them to see each other.

His focus was pulled, however, by Hannah beginning to tell her story. It was worse than Ethan had anticipated. Not only had Hannah been forced to marry the man who had shot her, but they had both been punished for not doing it exactly the way their kidnapper had wanted. The thought made him sick. For Ethan, marriage was an incredibly important thing. His parents had been an arranged marriage, and they weren't exactly in love with each other, more their jobs and the lifestyle that came with them. He hadn't wanted that for himself. He wanted to find somebody he genuinely couldn't live without, somebody he loved with all his heart. Somebody who would make every day worth living. He didn't want a divorce or a forced marriage. He wanted something real.

It seemed that in this place, real was hard to find.

"Hannah, I'm so... so sorry. God, I can't even find the words to describe how awful that is that it was forced on you..." 

And then, a wave of determination came over him. He wasn't going to allow this to define her life, or her fake husband's, or anybody else's. He wasn't exactly rich, but he knew there was something he could do.

"My mother... she's a lawyer. We don't have... the best relationship," Ethan winced as he admitted it, running a hand over the stubble that had formed on his chin. He knew Huxley would ask him about that later, "But I'm sure she'd help you get an annulment if I asked, once we get out of this hellhole..."

[Huxley Weisenbachfeld]

No hole sadly. But him and Ethan did notice a crack on the wall. Excellent. They could fit something smaller through there if they wanted. Perhaps even see each other. It was super high though. Still better than nothing.

“A CRACK! Good eye Ethan.” then they both turned their attention back to the blank wall. “Sorry dear, what were you saying?”

And so the lady recounted her tale. A shock collar around the ankle? Now THAT was sick. That’s how they forced these people to behave. They could’ve over shocked and killed them in an instant. Oh the thought was too much for Huxley to bare. Force married? It was sick. Though not the worst case scenario. Yes it was terrible, but it could be forced. At least they weren’t forced to kill each other...yet. Who knows what this person is capable of? Huxley tried to imagine the wedding. Was it just legal? Or an actual wedding? And if it was legal.. who were the two witnesses? Perhaps the people who kidnapped them??

“ Hannah.. was-was there anyone else there with you? If the marriage is legal there had to be witnesses right?” he asked caught up in in his own thoughts. While everyone else exclaimed sympathy for the poor girl. Huxley felt terrible for jumping into wanting to solve this mystery. He was the psychologist wasn’t he? He was supposed to comfort people. “Oh and I’m sorry for what happened to you. You’re very brave to sharing it with us.” well, he just hoped that Hannah would recover from this. Arranged marriages was one thing..arranged marriage in a hostage situation? Now that was weird.

“I do not believe Geoff and I will be the only people forced to do things against their will"
“Oh?” the professor chimed in again “Do you think that’s the kidnappers plan? To just marry all of us? But what good would that do? Perhaps leverage?” he pondered. Why else would they keep them here? Was this really all just for the kidnappers amusement? Marrying people. But why?

The question wouldn’t leave Huxley’s mind. Why why why…?

"My mother... she's a lawyer. We don't have... the best relationship," immediately Huxley turned his head to Ethan. He could see from the boy’s face, that he knew exactly what the professor was thinking of. He turned back to the wall. Not now.. maybe later. He wanted to say: You’re not alone kid. But.. he decided to leave it. Right now they should try to figure out what this all might mean to them.

[Hannah van de Berg]

Hannah looked at Freya seeing the concern on her face. She knew how bad this must have been to hear about. Hannah gently got Freya's shakings hand as she sat down next to the girl and gently put her arm around her shoulders to comfort her. The brunette figured she needed it. " I know.." she said softly as she gently held freya. " It is extremely fucked" she added. " Don't be sorry, there is nothing anyone could have done about it.. my first priority is for us and the others to get out of here safe and sound" she said in a soft almost motherly tone. " Im not telling you all this because I want you to pity me or to scare you, but to make sure that you all might have knowledge to get yourselves out here. We will get out of here.. I am sure" She said as she gently stroked freya's shoulder to hopefully give her some hope.

She heard the men on the other side of the wall argue and walk around to find a hole in the wall. Hearing ethan's words made her smile a little. " Thank you.. All of you for your concerns." she said. " I suppose I still.. kind of have to take everything in myself." When Ethan started to talk about his mother she felt how her heart sank a bit in her chest. That was so incredibly kind. The poor sweetheart. " Thank you Ethan, that is very kind of you. I would thank you more appropriately if it was not for the wall". She looked at freya who was still hiding her face in her hands.

She listened to the questions the older man had for her. " Yes there were. A good friend of mine Katherine was there with a man named Noah." She explained. "Both with shock collar to match their new outfits. They were forced to put down their signature just like Geoff and I were." she said. As he told her she was very brave hannah could not help but smile a little. " Well, if it helps you guys in the future it would be absolutely egotistical not to." Hannah commented. "But thank you nonetheless."

“Do you think that’s the kidnappers plan? To just marry all of us? But what good would that do? Perhaps leverage?” Hannah looked down in front of her. " I have no idea. The way it was set up.. It was like the person there wanted us to have some kind of.. perfect wedding. However all of the guests ended up on the floor one way or another." Dark and cynical humor. It was one way to cope. " It does not make sense to me. I got married to Geoff, if it was only for their own sick romantic fantasy why am I still here.. If it was for money, why would i be here in the first place, it is not like I am loathed." she thought out loud.

[Freya Alexander]

Freya wrapped her arms around Hannah without an inch of reserve, smiling as the young woman reaffirmed her fears of it being ‘incredibly fucked’, as a bittersweet ache spread through her chest.

"Don't be sorry, there is nothing anyone could have done about it.. my first priority is for us and the others to get out of here safe and sound,” Hannah cooed to her, so softly, with a gentleness that Freya only believed a mother to maintain. Though she didn’t expect it, the tears swam to her eyes all the quicker, with a shocking contortion of emotions fermenting within her. She only cried during times of intense overwhelming emotion, though this… this seemed different. The wetness permeating her vision as a reservoir bloomed in her eyelids. She squeezed her eyes shut, just embracing the older woman, her own mouth trembling in a quiet, self-pitying. “We will get out of here.. I am sure…”

“Thank you, Hannah,” the girl replied, sitting up and allowing Hannah’s arms to fall from the embrace as she met the woman’s eyes. Despite the innermost knowledge that what she was saying was indeed padding her emotions, it was a reassuring kind of ignorance to not want it. She wanted fully to believe her; that they would escape whatever was happening to them without fear for her (or the others’) life.

Though muffled, the distinct sound of the men’s exclamations of ‘A crack!’ permeated through the walls to the girls, which perked the attention of the sniffly Freya. She smiled sheepishly, rubbing her eyes from the tears, though only exacerbated the puffiness in her soft skin. When Hannah continued on regarding her wedding, Freya stared at the corner of the wall in a vacant thought, both regarding the obvious crack she had missed, and also the words of the woman sitting next to her.

She was only caught off guard at the mention of them all ‘ending up on the floor’, which sparked a humoured chuckle from the girl. And then… about Hannah being loathed. It seemed impossible to loathe someone as gentle and kind-hearted such as her. For all of them, Freya had never made an enemy in her life, not to the extent of being kidnapped. She couldn’t speak for anyone else, but Ethan seemed… more the saddened type, rather than aggressively masculine. At the mention of him not getting along with his mother, that same sympathetic melancholy rushed through her, and that same urge to hug him swelled over her again. Now Huxley was the dark horse, seeming both a ball of chaos wrapped in wrinkly skin, and feeble older man. How old was he, anyway? It wouldn’t have surprised Freya if the man declared that he had killed someone, but it all seemed too much of a coincidence. By matters of elimination, it was likely he had been thrown in the mix by unprecedented circumstances also, or she hoped. The intrusive image of Huxley going ‘HEEERE’S HUXLEY’ on someone was both terrifying AND aggressively funny.

Freya got to her feet, and approached the hairline crack situated at the corner of the wall, squinting as she inspected the weakness between the four of them. Reaching up to draw a finger over the red, she realised something small could fit between the crack. A pencil, perhaps. They could rip it open if they tried hard enough. Even if it were a stupid thing to do, Freya grinned at the prospect of saying a big ‘fuck you’ to whoever was trapping them.

A statement, perhaps. That no matter the walls they put between them, there would be ways to defy those ‘rules’. Weddings aside, Hannah deserved to take the reins of own humanity again after being forced into something so violating and personal. And if she managed to fulfil that hug in the meantime, well, it didn’t seem so bad after all, despite any repercussions it might trigger.

“Hannah, why don’t we look for something to fit in there? Maybe with a bit of perseverance, we could weaken the plaster enough to rip it from the wall… Worth a try!"

[Freya and Hannah look for something sturdy to fit between the wall to make the crack bigger]