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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 5309395" data-attributes="member: 3285">In Media Res: Part 1 – …Said the Spider to the FlyA polite voice called to them from the other room.&nbsp; Morowitz went in first, knife at the ready.A dim glow beckoned, the only light in the house that was on other than the dining room. The glow came from the television airing a local news special report.A reporter stood in front of the wreckage of a large bus labeled &quot;Liberty Center for the Criminally Insane,&quot; across which rescue workers clambered and scuttled. &quot;The unprecedented flooding and earthquakes that shook the nation yesterday have been further complicated by yet another tragedy that has let four dangerous convicts escape a maximum security facility. Liberty Center inmates were transported by bus out of the flood zone when the earthquake struck, flipping several prison transports. Four inmates took advantage of the confusion and escape with a hostage, one Dennis Gelon.&nbsp; The fugitives are considered armed and dangerous. Police advise residents to stay indoors and avoid walking anywhere…&quot;Morgan grunted.&nbsp; &quot;Now we know who we are.&quot;Morowitz glared at him.&nbsp; &quot;F**k you.&nbsp; We don't know s**t.&nbsp; All we know is that one of you is a sick f****er who cuts people up for kicks.&quot;Morgan smirked.&nbsp; &quot;How do you know you didn't do it?&quot;That gave Morowitz pause.&quot;I'm going to find a bathroom and change clothes if I can,&quot; said Morgan matter-of-factly.&nbsp; &quot;There's blood all over these.&quot;Morowitz looked down and noticed the blood spatter on his chest.&nbsp; &quot;S**t,&quot; he whispered.&nbsp; It was as guilty an indictment in his complicity of the murder as any jury.Morowitz stripped his shirt off, revealing more tattoos and his considerable bulk. He headed into the kitchen, with Jones and Bean in tow.Jones immediately headed under the sink.&nbsp; &quot;What are you doing?&quot; asked Morowitz.&quot;We may need explosives,&quot; said Jones as he puttered with the chemicals.&nbsp; &quot;I'm mixing something.&quot;Morowitz rifled through the utensils draw and came up unsatisfied.&nbsp; Then he spied a wooden block bristling with knives. &quot;You remember how to do that, huh?&quot;&quot;Yeah,&quot; said Jones, distracted.&quot;Well I remember how to shiv a man,&quot; said Morowitz, pulling a carving knife from the block.&nbsp; &quot;So be careful where you throw that s**t.&quot;&quot;Uh huh,&quot; said Jones.Bean's eyes bugged more than usual.&nbsp; &quot;So uh…you gonna hold onto both knives?&nbsp; 'Cause I could use a weapon and I figure you don't need both knives.&quot;&quot;S**t, here,&quot; sighed Morowitz, tossing him the paring knife.&nbsp; &quot;F**k all good it'll do you.&quot;&quot;It's not the size of the knife that matters,&quot; said Bean, running a finger along the bloodied side of the paring knife.&quot;So you the leader of this here outfit?&quot; asked Morowitz.&quot;I don't think so,&quot; said Bean.&nbsp; &quot;I think that other guy…Morgan, probably is.&nbsp; But he seems too good for us. It makes me want to stab him in the f****ing throat.&quot; He said the threat without changing his tone, expression, or his gaze wavering from the blade.&quot;I know what you mean,&quot; said Morowitz.&nbsp; &quot;I don't like him either. F**k him.&nbsp; We don't need him.&nbsp; I say we stick together until we're out of this.&quot; He gestured at the room that was behind them where the skinned body lay.&nbsp; &quot;Then we grab some wheels, and split up.&nbsp; They'll be looking for all of us together.&quot;&quot;Good idea.&quot;&nbsp; Bean still hadn't looked away from the blade.Jones didn't look up from his task.&nbsp; &quot;There's a car outside.&nbsp; Saw it lying in a ditch.&quot;&quot;Come on then,&quot; said Morowitz.&nbsp; &quot;Get your s**t together and let's get the f**k out of here.&quot;</blockquote>

[QUOTE="talien, post: 5309395, member: 3285"] [b]In Media Res: Part 1 – …Said the Spider to the Fly[/b] A polite voice called to them from the other room. Morowitz went in first, knife at the ready. A dim glow beckoned, the only light in the house that was on other than the dining room. The glow came from the television airing a local news special report. A reporter stood in front of the wreckage of a large bus labeled "Liberty Center for the Criminally Insane," across which rescue workers clambered and scuttled. "The unprecedented flooding and earthquakes that shook the nation yesterday have been further complicated by yet another tragedy that has let four dangerous convicts escape a maximum security facility. Liberty Center inmates were transported by bus out of the flood zone when the earthquake struck, flipping several prison transports. Four inmates took advantage of the confusion and escape with a hostage, one Dennis Gelon. The fugitives are considered armed and dangerous. Police advise residents to stay indoors and avoid walking anywhere…" Morgan grunted. "Now we know who we are." Morowitz glared at him. "F**k you. We don't know s**t. All we know is that one of you is a sick f****er who cuts people up for kicks." Morgan smirked. "How do you know you didn't do it?" That gave Morowitz pause. "I'm going to find a bathroom and change clothes if I can," said Morgan matter-of-factly. "There's blood all over these." Morowitz looked down and noticed the blood spatter on his chest. "S**t," he whispered. It was as guilty an indictment in his complicity of the murder as any jury. Morowitz stripped his shirt off, revealing more tattoos and his considerable bulk. He headed into the kitchen, with Jones and Bean in tow. Jones immediately headed under the sink. "What are you doing?" asked Morowitz. "We may need explosives," said Jones as he puttered with the chemicals. "I'm mixing something." Morowitz rifled through the utensils draw and came up unsatisfied. Then he spied a wooden block bristling with knives. "You remember how to do that, huh?" "Yeah," said Jones, distracted. "Well I remember how to shiv a man," said Morowitz, pulling a carving knife from the block. "So be careful where you throw that s**t." "Uh huh," said Jones. Bean's eyes bugged more than usual. "So uh…you gonna hold onto both knives? 'Cause I could use a weapon and I figure you don't need both knives." "S**t, here," sighed Morowitz, tossing him the paring knife. "F**k all good it'll do you." "It's not the size of the knife that matters," said Bean, running a finger along the bloodied side of the paring knife. "So you the leader of this here outfit?" asked Morowitz. "I don't think so," said Bean. "I think that other guy…Morgan, probably is. But he seems too good for us. It makes me want to stab him in the f****ing throat." He said the threat without changing his tone, expression, or his gaze wavering from the blade. "I know what you mean," said Morowitz. "I don't like him either. F**k him. We don't need him. I say we stick together until we're out of this." He gestured at the room that was behind them where the skinned body lay. "Then we grab some wheels, and split up. They'll be looking for all of us together." "Good idea." Bean still hadn't looked away from the blade. Jones didn't look up from his task. "There's a car outside. Saw it lying in a ditch." "Come on then," said Morowitz. "Get your s**t together and let's get the f**k out of here." [/QUOTE]

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