The distant part of Delilah's mind felt that her waking self was asleep. Now it was time to slave away in the hot tent of the Pig-faced thing she served just as she had every night. Just as she always did when she fell asleep. Her toil and hardship felt like a dream that was fuzzy and hard to imagine when she was awake. But the dream was real during her sleeping hours.

Delilah felt the sweat bead down her forehead, run down her chin and onto the iron collar which clamped down on her neck. The rope, looped round the circlet and let to a large pile of hemp, perhaps hundreds of yards long. It was hard to see the reasoning to have a rope that long, seeing as she could walk anywhere in the Circus but dare not to.

Her attention focused on her hands. They were working diligently to construct prizes for those poor souls who might one day venture into Sideshow Alley, the part of the Circus that resembled a maze of tents and gaming booths for clientele that would eventually, or perhaps unknowingly, sell their souls for cheap items that promised everything, but in reality, offered nothing.

It was a strange feeling, this out of body experience. She could feel her body sleeping, yet she could feel the heavy collar clamped around her neck and the sweltering closeness of the pig tent. Delilah looked at her hands. They seemed to be working on their own. Her eyes followed the trail of rope to the massive stacked coil. She lifted her head in search of the beast. All the while, her hands kept to their task like little machines.

She decided to stop working.

Dirty faces lined the benches of down the aisle near her. Other children, with their own collars and their own dirty fingernails, toiling under the sweltering heat of the Lead Carney's tent.

But it was Mark's face that caught her attention.

"what are you doing?" Mark said under the heavy din of metal parts being put together by kids around him. He looked at Delilah with a face smudged with grime, tired eyes that were filled more with fear than fatigue.

"we can't stop working." he advised, looking upset. His voice was like a kid who witnessed a friend start speaking during quiet time at Church.

Delilah leaned over and hissed, despite the noise. "No way! You can stay if you want, but I'm getting the heck outta here!"

She looked down to see her hands had picked up the cheap toy again and resumed fitting it together. She threw it down with a disgusted grunt and backed away from the table.

"Oh no! Don't do that." Mark said, backing away from the table, horrified at Delilah's course of action. "He'll get mad. And then you'll be in trouble with him. You don't want that."

Somewhere in the back of Delilah's mind, a niggling voice tried to remind her of what would happen. Perhaps she knew. But all of this back and forth between dreaming and waking. Working and being in the hospital bed...it was taking its toll.

Then there was a sound. The unmistakable sound of the Pig thing. Delilah could hear the heavy door at the top of the stairs open. It's familiar creaking and then shutting with a loud thud. And then the sound of heavy hooves--pig feet--troughing down the stairs.

"Quick!" Mark said, not knowing anything else to say and not making any sense saying it. The rest of the dirty faces sped up, hands moving, backs all erect and rigid.

Delilah's breath quickened. She grabbed one of the toys and tried to clutch it tight in her sweaty palms. She crawled under the table and wormed herself away from the thundering steps. As far as she could. Her knees and elbows scraped against the ground.

"Hello my pretties!" The Pig thing said. Delilah could see it's hooves scraping along the floor. A third thing came into view: A cane.

"I hope everyone is working!!!" At that last note, Delilah could hear the frantic pace of children fiddling with metal parts above the table.

The Pig Beast! For a moment, Delilah stared in horror at the trotters that supported it's bulk. She also saw the tip of a cane. She didn't remember seeing that before.

She rubbed they toy across the rope. Back and forth and back and forth. Hoping it was good enough to saw through part of the leash.

There was an ominous sense of hurry associated with the action of cutting the rope. From the table above her, Delilah could hear the scratching and clinking of different metal parts. The kids hands working more and more furious.

The Pig-thing walked along the side of one part of the table. She could see it's hooves, touching the ground as it walked along, inspecting the kids and the work being done.





"Not fast enough, sweety-pie!" it taunted. Delilah heard the dull crack of the cane. There was a gasp from one or two kids. Then Delilah saw a child's body slam onto the ground, head cracking the floor, eyes open and staring at her as she was under the table. The kid's limp body rolled forward, arm landing being its--his back--a boy. The boy's eyes were wide open, staring at Delilah, though it was clear he was complete unconscious.

OOC: Delilah rolls just Dexterity +2 to cut the rope

23:42, Today: Delilah Gray rolled 1 success using 6d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s ((5,4,3,8,1,6)).

Am I still working with wound penalties? If so, then no successes/dramatic failure.

Delilah stared into those unseeing eyes and sawed at a frantic pace.

'snip'

The cord was cut. It fell to the floor lifelessly. More than lifeless. To Delilah's surprise, it began to wilt. It shriveled and the edge of the frayed fabric curled, like a flower rotting in slow motion. There was also a terrible smell in the air. Delilah couldn't tell whether or not it was the Pig-thing or the rope.

Whatever was happening, the Pig-thing didn't seem to notice. It just walked up and down both sides of the table, chastising kids for not making enough toys. For not working fast enough. For not doing enough. But mostly, for not slaving away. After seeing that kid fall to the ground limp, the Delilah could tell that the other kids were working furiously.

After a short speech about how 'worse things were coming if work wasn't done' the Pig-Thing moved to the stairs. Delilah could hear it moving upwards. The heavy door slammed and it was gone.

Delilah's stared bug-eyed at the shriveling rope. It gave off and awful stench. She exhaled hard, then clapped one hand over her mouth. Her eyes flicked to the pig feet marching up and down the table. The feet didn't stop. And it kept yammering on. When it finally finished, it hoofed back up the stairs. She heard the door shut.

That's when she crept out from under the table.

"Mark! Mark! Lookit!"

She pointed repeatedly to her collar. It no longer had a rope.

"We can get outta here! We can go home!"

"Cut it, cut it!" Mark said frantically. "Get me out of here!"

"You don't want to do that" a voice said, speaking up. It was a thin voice. And it came from a misshapen head. A child with cartoon-like features: angular and stretched. "You don't want to do that. Not at all."

"Yeah, I do! 'S'matter with you? Why--"

Delilah cast an evil look in the direction of the voice. Her words died off when she saw the girl's odd face. She wanted to know what happened to her, but hurried over to Mark's rope and started sawing instead.

"We can all get outta here! Cut these ropes! Bumrush the pig! Hog tie it! Run away!"

The girl opened her mouth, like she was going to say something. Then it snapped shut. "Because....because...I don't remember why. I've been down here a while, you see? I just think I remember something bad happening. Something about...Pig."

"So that's it? You all just gave up when you could go home? Cowards!" she glared around the workshop.

"We're gonna get outta here, then," she said to Mark. When the rope gave way, she tried to pry off his collar.

Mark gladly accepted Delilah's help, pulling off the rope and the collar. And just like that they were free, the iron metal clanging on the floor. "Let's go! This way!" Mark said, pointing towards the door where the Pig-thing had left. "That's the exit."

"But...if you go, something will happen. I wish I could remember what." The girl didn't seem to have a face like the others. It was literally more cartoonish. Delilah swore that she could see it move and undulate, the rough edges of her face seeming more like a two dimensional sketch than a little girl's head. "Oh, I can't remember." She relented.

"Will you come back, when you are done?" she asked, all innocence.

Delilah rubbed her neck when the collar fell away. She stared at the cartoon-girl with a mix of revulsion and awe. It was unreal how her mouth moved and her eyes blinked.

"You tried to leave? Is that what happened to you?" But the girl couldn't remember.

"Am I coming back? Get real, Freak Face! Mark, we're outta here." He pointed to the stairs. He wouldn't have to tell her twice. Delilah headed straight up the stairs to the door.

Delilah headed up the stairs and through the door. Pushing on the through, she ran with Mark. There was a sudden, hazy feeling as she stepped forward. A feeling of wakefulness, like the nightmare was ending and she was going to be reborn: sitting in the hospital bed.

OOC: Delilah Joins Thread,

Delilah: Running...Free?