Survival Horror - Gameplay

[Mister Andersen]

This map will be updated throughout the game:

[Mister Andersen]

They came in the middle of the night for you.

Well, it just felt like that, it was all so sudden and clandestine. Actually you were taken out of the gen pop during the middle of the day, told you had visitors loudly enough for everyone else to hear.

But instead you found yourselves shackled and locked into cages in the back of a truck that gave no indication of being DoJ property and told you were being transported "somewhere else". Any other questions were ignored and the light of the world replaced by a plethora of recessed LED lights...

[Gatac]

I knew it was bull when they said visitors. I'm dead to my homies, dead to my Moms, dead to my sister. I used ta think Moms at least was above this shit, sent me letters...used to send me letters. None of those for three months now. She's given up. She don't need the pain of thinking about her boy, who ain't never done anything right.

Visitors. Yeah, right.

I howled when I saw that truck, I howled and I fought, but there ain't much you can do when they got you cuffed. I musta screamed loud enough for everyone to hear, I don't know what I was hoping for. Maybe, I figured somebody might come in, all movie-like, and tell them that this is all wrong, that I ain't the guy they oughta be draggin' there. But nobody ever stood up for me, so hell, most I could expect was a "Don't trip" and a mean lil' smile. Sit down, Ray. You know how this shit goes.

They put me in a cage. A fucking cage! I kept screaming. Like, come on, that ain't even close to fair. That ain't Raymond Foster fair, even.

Now I'm crouching here all curled up, trying not to scream again. Man, if I had a tool...if I had a light...if I ever just got one fucking break in my whole goddamn fucking life, I could be outta this place.

Kinda wonder who else they got in here...

[NezMaster]

Dirk shuffles along, still trying to resign himself to life in a cage, when the more literal cage slams around him. He scans around, always looking for some chance he can take. It's better to be shot than to live like this, but if he's gonna do something, he'll want it to be effective. He looks to see if the cages are installed or loose, how close/exposed/ the driver and guards are, and just generally assess his situation.
He mumbles quietly to himself. "Man, I've got to get out of here" he says quietly to himself as he watched hte howling prisoner being thrown in a cage. He sighed and calculated.

[foproy]

chris walks calmly onto the van, his only regrets that he did not have his pistols he hated not having them in that tin can, and he really hates not having them now.

[Valentina]

Outside can be heard the whistling roar of a diesel engine, then crunching gravel, and the sigh-squeak of heavy brakes arresting motion.
Another vehicle has pulled up to the pad, a bus by the sound of it.
A minute later a figure steps into the cramped view offered out the back of the van; a guard aiming a Remington 870 tightly from his hip. A second joins the first, flanking out 15ft to form a triangle fire pattern tracking a third: a tall woman. Sharp-featured and beautiful, she stands bracketed by the guards without an apparent moment of concern. Her gaze sweeps across the other convicts, dark brown eyes burning with the hungry amusement of a starving weasel that happens across an unguarded infant.

Without further prompting she steps in and sits down. It's obvious that, paradoxically to her prison uniform -which looks tailor-cut to fit, she's also wearing makeup and her hair's immaculate...
Her constant wire-thin smile is chilling.

[Crafty_Pat]

The sun hurts the eyes and pricks the skin. It's been so long since full daylight.

"Out you go, Powder," say the guards. None of them have any sense of what's under the skin - not even their own. Who's prison is more real, I wonder...

I board the bus to a dusting of pensive eyes. They hide it with false bravado and scarcely contained rage but deep down they're all lost children in need of rescue. But not today, and not by me.

The guards follow protocol. Thy keep me hog-shackled and lead me past the forlorn faces to the back of the vehicle, six rows from the closest of the others. They bark at those whose glances linger too long and growl at any who speak up. The others probably think the guards are protecting me but they're got it cock-eyed. The guards are protecting themselves. They're outnumbered, and they know it. I've shown them before.

They feed my chains through rings in the floor and one of them takes a seat a row ahead and across the aisle. I turn my gaze outside. At least I'll see a bit more of the world before the next hole...

[Antilles]

A visitor? Must be the lawyer. It's always the lawyer, everybody else seems to think I'm guilty, even though they haven't found any solid evidence yet... Maybe he's come to tell me they've found new evidence that clears me? Yeah, right...

A truck? They're gonna transfer me? Did the warden actually listen to me when I told him I wasn't safe here? But why the ruse with the imaginary visitor?

Wait, who are those guys? Cages? Heavy chains? What the hell is Ooof! Alright, alright, I'm going, no need to push... Man, everything about this stinks. I wonder what they're actually up to...

[Mister Andersen]

The rear doors of the truck close for the what seems to be the final time.

Six cages.

Six prisoners.

No guards.

A dozen cameras.

The thrum of the truck's engine carries through the floor as it once more kicks into gear and sets off. You can't see or hear anything that gives you any indication of where you are - only the sense of motion provides a clue - there's a fair degree of what feels like you've headed up a large slope at some point.

[Gatac]

It's cold and it's dark and I don't have the first clue where they're takin' me. Lotta chalk in those cages, nobody said a word...fuck.

Well, screw 'em. Screw those motherfuckers. Ain't gonna scare me. Just glad that there's a couple things the Army taught me real well. Let's give whitey something to think about.

I start singing it, just like that, tapping my foot to the rhythm. Best thing they ever did was teach us that song, brings a smile to my face every time. Makes me feel like going out there and puttin' the scare in motherfuckers. Come on, people, rattle your cages. Shout at ol' Raymond. Show me you gon' do more than sit there and wait for it.

Now Venus is a statue made entirely out of stone,
She hasn't a fig leaf on her, she is naked to the bone.
On seeing that her arms were gone, two engineers discoursed,
Of course the darn thing's broken and should be reinforced!

We are, we are, we are, we are, the Combat Engineers
we can, we can, we can, we can, demolish forty beers
Drink up, drink up, drink up, drink up and come along with us
For we don’t give a damn, for any old man, who don’t give a damn for us
Hey!

[Crafty_Pat]

I level a curious gaze at the singer and listen intently. I don't know the song but I will soon - and as I catch on I'll hum and tap my foot and eventually join in the chorus...

[Valentina]

Veronica observes with eyes slitted and mouth tightened into a thin sneer, apparently trying to established if this is a deliberate harassment tactic, and if so who gets strangled with their chains first.

As the verses pile on she ceases being interested, and reclines in a less alertly predatory state.
In this place, the destination interests her far more then the journey.

[Gatac]

Heh, nice to have someone cut in, even if they're just working the chorus with me. Together, we carry that baby home.

We build and blow your bridges and fix your roads up too,
There aren't too many things in life an engineer can't do.
You never seem to need us 'til your minds are filled with fear,
Then the first thing that you call for are the combat engineers!

We are, we are, we are, we are, the combat engineers
we can, we can, we can, we can, demolish forty beers
Drink up, drink up, drink up, drink up and come along with us
For we don’t give a damn, for any old man, who don’t give a damn for us
Hey!

We plan and guard your barriers, and we build your bunkers too,
And each and every war we prove what engineers can do.
For in the thick of every fight, the cry has been for years
Come clear the pass, and save our ass, you combat engineers!

We are, we are, we are, we are, the combat engineers
we can, we can, we can, we can, demolish forty beers
Drink up, drink up, drink up, drink up and come along with us
For we don’t give a damn, for any old man, who don’t give a damn for us
Hey!

Almost as good as getting drunk.

I nod to the guy who joined in, not that he can see me in the dark.

"You got any songs, man? Place is creepy enough bein' dark, don't wanna sit in the quiet, too."

[Crafty_Pat]

After a long, pregnant pause, I speak out from the back, "How 'bout a classic?" and I let the rhythm build in my gut. In a moment it spills out into the dark...
   
They say ev'rything can be replaced,
Yet ev'ry distance is not near.
So I remember ev'ry face
Of ev'ry man who put me here.
I see my light come shining
From the west unto the east.
Any day now, any day now,
I shall be released.

They say ev'ry man needs protection,
They say ev'ry man must fall.
Yet I swear I see my reflection
Some place so high above this wall.
I see my light come shining
From the west unto the east.
Any day now, any day now,
I shall be released.

Standing next to me in this lonely crowd,
Is a man who swears he's not to blame.
All day long I hear him shout so loud,
Crying out that he was framed.
I see my light come shining
From the west unto the east.
Any day now, any day now,
I shall be released.

[Mister Andersen]

Any day now, any day now, I shall be released...

As those words fade into silence, the truck gives an almighty lurch and all sensation of forward motion ceases.