[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/TufijF8.png[/img][/center]
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[center][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sv0LwXYAVVg[/youtube][/center]
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	[color=gray] It’s been about eighteen hours since Mr. Russo last spoke to the teens. The last encounter left the team injured and morally defeated. A new life of fighting did not settle well. “Unreal” is the best word to describe their current situation. No available options remained, it appeared Mr. Russo had a tight grip on everyone. 

	The last fight against the two convicts did leave bruises and scratches on the three kids. No major injuries were found, but the team still suffered from soreness. Neither Ally, Kurt, or Marcus experienced a battle similar to what occurred in the basement floor. Their bodies certainly could not sustain such new and heavy punishment. 

	Not much time was spent looking around the mansion nor finding a way to ditch the place. They needed rest and their beds called out to them. The three teenagers examined their rooms and found themselves attached to them. The rooms appeared creepy yet flattering. For each personal room, decorations and different furniture were applied. Whoever was in charge of room decor, they knew the teen’s individual preferences. 

The team laid to bed to recover from their last battle. The clinic did help bandage and clean most of their cuts. Strangely, the state of the sick bay suggested someone visited before. On the hospital beds, medical supplies lined out on the spread. The supplies seemed they were taken from the shelves. The materials were exactly what the team deemed essential. Whether Mr. Russo predicted the team’s injuries or there’s another person in the building. Both theories were creepy nevertheless. 

The three teenages found the mansion to be unviting sometimes. The Victorian building is too ginormous for three kids; most of the time, the place felt empty and void. The light fixtures and sound of television did help the cause. What didn’t help the atmosphere of loneliness was the weather outside. 
Heavy rain poured out onto the windows. The crack of thunder shook the windows with every passing minute or so. Could this be the definition of coincidence? A rainstorm appeared during the day of their supposed new life. Thunder cracks caused tension, and so did the alarm that came out next. 

Flashing lights turned on in the lounge area. A deafening alarm emanated throughout the rooms of the mansion. The HD television immediately shifted to static before presenting a video feed of Mr. Russo. His overall demeanor suggested sternness. [color=orange] “It’s time. Kiddos. You will be going on your first mission as of now.”[/color] [/color]
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[@LeamonZest89][@1Hawkeyes]
(Go ahead and post details about your room. I will wait for Marcus' overall feelings and such later. I have a birthday to attend tonight.)