[center][h2][color=39b54a]Brent Young[/color][/h2]
Nearest player: [@GoodLuckTuck][/center]
[hr]

Deep darkness permeated Brent's vision as he slowly began to awaken, his closed eyelids shading his surroundings in darkness. The air in his apartment felt far cooler, and his body was sore nearly everywhere. If that wasn't even enough, his bed was hard as stone, and he realized he may have fell onto the floor in his sleep. This seemed strange, but as his consciousness grew stronger, he soon began to remember details - he hadn't fallen to sleep. In fact, the last thing he remembered was being on his computer... Yes, he was filling out that strange email he received. Everything after that was fuzzy, almost nonexistent. Brent simply deduced that he must have spent the rest of the night grinding on one of the MMO's he played, eventually passing out from exhaustion. Brent immediately bolted upwards however, realizing that he hadn't woken up to his alarm - he woke up on his own. Today was a Wednesday, he had work... If he rushed, perhaps he could make it to work before he got chewed out. Upon rising from the hard surface he was laying against, Brent opened his eyes to see the world.

The walls were lined with shelves, upon which various cleaning supplies and miscellaneous objects sat, such as a mop that laid diagonally against the opposite corner. Everywhere in his vision, from the shelves to the disgusting floor he was sleeping on, was coated in a thick, oppressive dust. As if the room hadn't been touched in ages. The most mysterious part of it all was that their were no footprints that broke the dust - somehow, he was taken to this room, and he didn't even know how the culprit could have managed such a feat. The surroundings were unlike anything in his meager apartment, and the thought of being unable to show up to work was gone from his mind. The only thing that he was thinking of was the very real threat that he had been kidnapped, and was being held hostage. Looking down, Brent saw that he was completely unbound, a surprise considering he seemed to be kidnapped. 

But that was not all - a pack laid at his feet, a quick investigation revealing it's contents - 4 plastic bottles of a clear liquid, presumably water. 6 bars in a bland white packaging, lacking even a nutrition table. A matchbox which had a large number of matches, somewhere between 30 and 50. The item at the bottom was a small pocket knife, not enough to defend oneself reliably in a fight, but a very nice tool. Finally, the bag itself was made of a Nylon fabric, and had far more space than was necessary to hold the meager supplies. Placing most of the items back into his bag, he zipped it up and slid the large bag onto his back. In his hand was the small knife, fingers resting against the blade and prepared to unfold it should he meet his assailant. The knife would surely be of little use considering it's small size, but any weapon was better than none. Shakily reaching his free hand towards the door, and giving a silent turn, the door appeared to be unlocked. The fact that the door was unlocked and he wasn't even bound up led Brent to a single conclusion - he most likely wasn't kidnapped, or at the very least, the kidnapper didn't intend to keep him in one location. He was nearly about to open the door when a small, barely audible voice managed to pierce the thick wooden door.

[color=00aeef]"H-Hello?"[/color]

The voice nearly caused Brent to yell in surprise, but he managed to keep his voice muffled. Someone else was outside the door, and their voice, while very soft, was easy to tell the owner was a woman. Sliding the pocket knife into his pants pocket, he gently opened the door, prepared to pull the knife out should he need to. After all, he would probably be able to overpower her if she tried to attack him... Unless she was the culprit, and had a better weapon than a few inches of sharp metal. He swiftly made his way out of the closet, which he now recognized as a janitors closet - the area he was in appeared to be the ground level of a fabulous hotel. Or, a [i]once[/i] fabulous hotel, as the entire place was coated in dust and dilapidated with age. Sunlight poked through many yellowed windows and the occasional holes in the walls, dust specking the rays of light. Despite his best efforts, stealth was an impossibility. The floors were creaky and did so at the slightest pressure, occasionally making a slight noise of their own volition. The rug was partially eaten, Brent praying that the large sections missing in the fabric were caused by moths rather than something... larger. Brent made his way to the desk before realizing that he didn't know where to go - the staircase further to the right seemed to be an option, but considering the disrepair of the place, climbing to higher floors was clearly not in his best interest. He could leave, but the barely transparent windows of the hotel revealed that the surroundings were unfamiliar - a dark forest, despite the rays of sun that poked through the windows. Hoping to avoid a more dangerous change of scenery, Brent realized his only course of action.

[color=39b54a]"Hello? Is anyone there?"[/color]

Calling out to the voice was a risky tactic, but it was the safest of his available ones. Worst case scenario, the woman reveals herself to be the culprit behind his awakening in this strange place and he may die. Best case scenario, she's a police officer looking for a Mr. Young who disappeared from his home, and he would be taken out of this nightmare. Either way, it's better than walking out into the forest unarmed.