`Trapped In The Closet (open)

[Daryl Bailey]

Daryl sat at his desk, quietly thumping his pen on the hardwood. His chin rested in his free hand, the fingers drumming on his cheek. He was bored. Utterly bored. He had only one roommate at last count, and the two weren't best buds, if you wanted to get technical. Daryl never saw the guy anyway. Jesus, or Paco, or whatever the heck his name was. Alejandro, that was it.

Giving up at his pathetic attempt at writing, Daryl moved on to try his talents at drawing. He reached listlessly for his sketchpad, in the process knocking over a picture of his sister Jay. He watched in horror as, almost in slow motion, the picture frame tumbled from the high desk and crashed to the floor. Shards of glass glittered the shag carpet, the scratched photo of Jordan smiling up at him innocently.

Groaning to himself, the brunette daintily picked up what was left of the destroyed picture. With his bare hand, he wiped away the small crumbs of glass left clinging to the photo. Drops of blood rose on his skin, but he didn't care. Guiltily, Daryl placed the picture back on his desk and walked toward the closet.

As he had hoped, a vacuum rested inside, waiting to be used. The freshman plugged it into the wall, but didn't turn it on until he had 3 Doors Down's newest CD turned on at full blast. As he cleaned up the mess he had made, he sang along with the band, screaming on about life, love, and how to work around both.

His work done faster than he had expected, the short boy put the vacuum cleaner away and turned back to his drawing. Well, the sheet that would eventually have his drawing on it. Without turning the radio down, Daryl's hand guided his pencil across the canvas, sketching out the rough outline of what would eventually be a vampire. It wasn't the best work of art ever created, but it was certainly a heck of a lot better than that pathetic paragraph Daryl called the start of a horror story.

The clock ticked away as Daryl continued to work, adding detail after detail to his slender creature. He had to laugh at himself. A month ago, his vampire would have looked like a pale, tall, dead human with blood dripping down his chin. But now that the boy had met a vampire, several probably, he knew the stereotype was wrong. They didn't wear capes. They didn't sleep in coffins...as far as he knew. They weren't white as a ghost. And they most certainly did not spill their meal down their chins.

By the time Daryl had finished his work of art, two hours had flown by. The boy closed his sketchbook and put it back in one of the drawers in his desk, making sure to lock it tightly before walking away. It had always been a habit of his to lock his drawers. He didn't do it out of fear of someone looking at his things, per se. Simply the fear of someone looking at his things and making fun of him for having them. Like that little stuffed angel-bear his parents had given him when he was born, or the necklace his eldest sister had given to him before she left for Winterthorne.

Once again bored, Daryl moved back to the closet. He had put a lock on that as well, God knows why. Paying little attention to the lock, he slipped into the small space and began sifting through the items that rested on the shelves. On the upper shelves were clothes, books, a few band aids, and a pair of scissors. As Daryl explored the lower shelves and drawers, he managed to bump the closet door, forcing it to shut. He turned around abruptly, wondering just what kind of lock he had put on the door. Giving the white wood a good shove, he knew exactly what kind. The wardrobe-lock kind. The kind that locks from the outside only, keeping everything inside safe and secure, with no way out.

"Shit."

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[blair keynes]

Blair Sibella Keynes.
"If i had a step one, you'll be all on that"


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outfit

A girl sat in her room, in her house located in Germany. She fiddled with her school textbooks, attempting to get some homework done. Blair Keynes wasn't one to concentrate, although she did seem to get fairly decent grades to make her father happy. Blair frowned at the thought, she had recently returned to her father and spend a few days with her. Blair was happy for that, she loved her father and was happy to have him in her life again. Plus, ever since she had Alice, Blair learned to be a happier person. Blair even had her parents take care of Alice while she was in school. And Blair couldn't be more grateful for that. But, everything was not so perfect in Blair's life, unfortunately. Winterthorne was like an alien planet for her. Everyone was so..scene-like. Blair was rich and had the attitude of the rich. Nobody could deny the fact the girl was probably the biggest bitch on campus. She was the girl with the latest fashions, throwing the biggest parties and such. Blair loved everything to come with the lifestyle of being rich. Although it did have its consequences. People used her for her money, and for her child. Blair sighed and threw the pencil she was holding across the room.

Blair paced around her room, thinking of what to do. Her options were limited because of her lack of friends. Blair felt a warm fur rub against her hand as her dog approached her and sniffed her leg curiously. The brunette petted it enthusiastically and smiled. Oh how the loved her dog, Sabina was a great companion on those lonely school nights. Blair, then got an idea, she would go see her best friend, William. The two haven't spoken in forever, and now would be a perfect time to go see him. Blair walked over to her closet and a sinister smile pressed against her thin, lip-gloss coated lips. She stripped down to her undergarments and started throwing out random pieces of clothes onto her bed. Gucci, Prada, Coco Chanel, you name it, she had it. Blair settled on a black mini skirt with a jean jacket and white top. Most people would think she was crazy for even leaving the building dressed like she was. But, Blair was a vampire, she didn't really mind the cold. In fact, she loved it. After she was done, Blair made her way towards the dorm room door. She would be going to the boy's dorm room, so maybe it wasn't a good idea wearing the outfit she had chosen. But, she didn't really mind, she loved the attention. Blair smirked and wrapped her long white hands around the door handle, pulling it open with force and made her way towards the boy dorm.

Using her super speed, she ran towards the building. Blair loved having her powers, it was what made her unique, well not really since she went to a school full of freaks. Upon entering the boy dorm, she heard wolf whistles fill the corridor as she heard boys laugh and look her up and down. Blair rolled her light chestnut brown eyes, and continued towards the boy's rooms. The only reason Blair's chestnut eyes were light today, was because she had hunted the night before. Usually, that helped her fight the urge to snack on humans. It wasn't easy being around humans for Blair. Especially since her past experiences with them. Blair refused to re-live the past. Blair smirked her smirk and ran to William's dorm. She knocked four times, no answer. "god dammit" she said, furious now. She had spent all that time to dress up and look hot and William wasn't even in his dorm. Blair groaned and walked slow pace towards the end of the hallway. And then, she paused, Mid-walk and closed her eyes. A voice filled her head, a familiar one? But not one she had talked to alot. It was Daryl. She used her super senses to find out where he was and approached his dorm. She put her ear to the door and listened to the sounds. The twisted the metal dorm door and found it unlocked. "Daryl..?" she called out, her tone was confused. Her eyes darted around the room and finally they settled on the closet door. She approached it and leaned against it, knocking twice. "Are you in there?" she asked and her eyes widened.

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S t a t u s ; complete
W o r d s ; 738, without codes.
L y r i c s; Girlicious - Like me
N o t e s; I made them..like somewhat friends. hope thats okay! ^^

[Daryl Bailey]

Great. Just great. Absolutely wonderful.

Daryl paced as much as he could in the small space, thinking of how the hell he was going to get out. Normally, he would simply phase right on through the door, none the worse for wear. But not this door. No. That oh-so-special lock on the closet contained him in more ways than one. Not only could it keep the door sufficiently shut. It was made of a material that he was incapable of phasing through. Touching the lock without some sort of glove or cloth on his hands burned his flesh, and if he held on long enough, drew blood.

He had made the lock himself about a year ago. His parents were fighting, as usual, and they were scaring him, as usual. Terrified, he had locked himself in his room. But his parents found him easily enough. Knowing he needed a better lock to keep them and the sound away, he created the latch piece by piece. Eventually, with a little help from a gifted friend, he produced the lock that prevented him from touching it, and anything it was latched to.

And he had put it on the closet.

Why on earth had he done that? How stupid could he have been? He knew he was an idiot, but this was an entirely new level for him, and it infuriated him greatly. As Daryl moved, struggling to think up a way out of the closet, his bare arm brushed the door. He winced, pulling back suddenly. A small red burn marked the spot that had touched the door, but it was hardly noticeable.

Sighing, the brunette moved to the corner of the closet and slid to the ground. Now what? Alejandro still wasn't back, and Daryl couldn't hear anyone in the hallway. He listened carefully, struggling to keep his breath even. Claustrophobia was starting to set in. His arms began to shake, his heart rate rose, and his mind raced. He had to get out. He had to get out soon.

Desperate, the teen stood up sharply and called out. When no one answered him, he called again. He reached to bang on the door but pulled back before skin met wood. Daryl called out continually, begging someone, anyone to come and save him. But no one did. The more he screamed, the more panicked he became. His wings began to sprout, instinctively trying to break free. He tried to contain them, but it was no good. Petrified, they burst out, getting pinned in the too-small space. The tip of his left wing hit the door, again searing his skin. He pulled it back, too upset to get rid of them.

And now he had to go to the bathroom. Was the world completely against him? Tossing a glare to the ceiling, Daryl tried to give himself more room. He pushed the large set of shelves as far into the corner as he could. He kicked the shoes in the closet into the corner as well, giving him space to at least sit comfortably. Darkness enveloped his surroundings as well as his imagination. His chest constricted as the walls closed in, and his pupils widened to bring in as much light as possible.

Daryl once again slid to the floor and hugged his knees. He rocked back and forth a bit, giving one hopeless call into the darkness. Only the sound of a book falling answered him. This wasn’t good, he knew. No one was going to be coming for quite some time, and no one would worry about him for the next dozen hours or so. He was screwed. Thoroughly and utterly screwed.

As he began to give up hope, a small voice called to him. Daryl…? It whispered. There was a slight pause, and the freshman was afraid that whoever it was had left. Are you in there? The voice called out again.

Daryl jumped up excitedly, smacking his head on the shelf above him. He cried out, startled, and rubbed his head. Get me the hell out of here! He screamed. His voice squeaked with panic and dread. I’m stuck in the damned closet!

His body shook with eagerness and fear. His wings flapped a bit, struggling to contain the energy welling up inside of the small boy. They hit the wall lightly, but Daryl didn’t care. He was getting out!

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[blair keynes]

Blair Sibella Keynes.
"If i had a step one, you'll be all on that"


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outfit

Blair listened down a few moments, as she heard something hit the top of something. Blair stifled a laugh, and then her face smoothed out when she heard Daryl calling for help. "OH, so you are in there" Blair smirked and laughed. Blair reached towards the handle and wrapped her albino hands around it. And instantly, as if zapped by lighting, she retreated and held her burned hand to her chest. "WHAT THE FUCK?" she yelled and pressed her burned hand on her arm, it instantly cooled and she let out a sighs of relief. "Are you insane!? What did you put a hex or something on that bloody lock?" she asked again and glared at the lock. Sure she probably looked like an idiot if anyone came in and found her glaring at lock, but she simple, didn't care. Blair growled under her breath, she hated being intimidated. Okay, call her an idiot of whatever, but she was being intimated by a lock. She swore in Romanian, her native tongue and tried the lock again, but got burned.

"How the hell am i going to do this..?" she whispered to herself. Blair tapped her heel impatiently as she thought of some ways to get Daryl out. She could go get help, but that wasn't something Blair was known to do, she was independent and hated asking for help, with anything. She could rip the door off its hinges, but...she guessed Daryl wouldn't like that too much. She could grip onto the door handle for dear life and open the door, but that would be to painful. And Blair hated pain. A frustrated growl erupted from her chest and then, her attention shot to the door. "Kay, i got an idea" she was speaking to herself, but then inclined her head towards the door. "Daryl?" she called sweetly, "Get as far back from the door as possible, please" she said threw gritted teeth. Blair wasn't one to say "please", yet alone be nice to someone. But, Blair was friends with Daryl's older sister, Jay, so she couldn't technically be a bitch to Daryl.

"And, close your eyes" she said and a smirk grew on her lips, "I don't want you getting scared" she mumbled to herself and took a few steps back. Blair wiggled her hands slightly and concentrated on the door. She could use her mind control to unlock the door, but if she made one tiny mistake or got the least bit distracted, she could blow the whole closet to pieces, with Daryl in it. Blair closed her eyelids and breathed deeply, focusing herself. She played a song in her head, a random habit she did to keep herself calm, "Okay" she thought out loud, her voice was Stern and full of confidence. She could do this, Blair knew she could. Open Blair thought the word over and over and over again, her mind visualizing the door. And then she heard a slight click, Blair's eyes flung open and found the door opening slowly, light pouring into the dark, condensed space. She approached with caution, and her brown eyes widened when she saw Daryl's wings. "You Kay?" she asked and wiggled her nose.

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S t a t u s ; complete
W o r d s ; 532, without codes.
L y r i c s; Girlicious - Like me
N o t e s;

[Daryl Bailey]

Daryl stood, albeit impatiently, as he listened for his rescuer to free him. He heard the room door open carefully, its hinges squeaking terribly. Small footsteps approached the door, stopping just in front of the closet. Great, a girl had come to rescue him. Could this be any more humiliating?

He could hear the smirk in her voice as she spoke to him. OH! So you are in there? The words smiled broadly. Daryl scowled lightly, but quickly forgot about his anger when he remembered the curse on the lock.

Wait... But before he could properly worn the savior, the girl's voice screamed in shock and pain. Her sigh floated through the door, followed immediately by bouts of fury. Daryl shrank down into the closet in shame. The curse had started out as a last defense, and now it was keeping him prisoner. Go figure.

It was necessary, He mumbled. I didn't know it would affect other species, other than just angels. I wasn't the one who put the curse on the lock in the first place!

Daryl once again stood up, careful not to hit his head a second time. He heard the lock jingle a little, but it did nothing more. If she couldn't touch it the first time, what makes her think she can touch it a few seconds later? The freshman thought to himself. Shaking his head, he waited quietly for her to think of another idea.

He could hear the soft tick tick tack tick of her heel as she barraded the floor with blows it didn't deserve. High fashion women and their shoes. Daryl would never understand. He could hear whoever it was groan in frustration. He hated not being able to see his rescuer. It made putting a face to the voice oh-so-difficult. Usually, he would be able to go by the voice itself. But the thickness of the door, added to the hex, muffled and distorted the words.

He heard the girl tell him to get back and close his eyes. By the forced kindness, he figured it was Blair. She never was one for saying please and thank you. At least, not since he had known her. Daryl wondered why she was being so sweet, but the thought was quickly shoved away. Now was not the time to admire someone's change in personality. Following orders, Daryl scooted back into the corner and pressed his face into it. Whatever she thought would scare him probably wasn't that bad, but he wasn't going to take any chances.

The last few seconds in the closet were agonizingly slow. The sound of the lock unhooking filled the enclosed space, and Daryl's wings spread as much as they could. Light poured into the darkness like food into a hungry person's mouth. Daryl stood up excitedly, rushing toward the light.

As he expected, Blair stood in his way, looking startled. Daryl laughed nervously and hid his wings, stepping eagerly out of the closet. I'm alright, He said thankfully. My ego is a bit bruised, but other than that, I'm none the worse for wear. He was lying, sure, but not too much. His hands were only shaking a little bit now from the claustrophobia. And that would go away within a few minutes anyway. Thanks... He smiled.

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