An artist's depiction of an Extended Unit Death
Day 0The time is 1:30. Three car alarms go off simultaneously. This is another consecutive night of high crime and violence throughout the area. While crime was not completely rampant on the west side of town, the rest of the town was engulfed in burglaries, vandalism, and even an occasional murder.
One week prior to now, the mayor had declared war against organized crime, better known as the Mafia. His investigations led to the public execution of three mafia suspects, though one is still believed to have been innocent. On the night of the third execution, which was three days from today, the mayor had gone missing.
The time is 1:55. A scrawny man is up late, trying to ignore the sound of car alarms. He had taken great interest in a project of his, and he sought its immediate completion. After a few minor modifications, he laughs with joy. Staring into his eyes, he says, "It's perfect. Perfect!" His happiness is interrupted by a noise outside. "I'm sick of this town," he grumbled as he walks to his bedroom.
The time is 2:15. A beaten and battered individual is thrown onto the steps of the town hall, the location where the public executions had taken place.
"You'll make an example of us, eh? Hang us in public, will you?" shouts an angry voice, a man who had lost everything. "This town is finished. The louts that call themselves townsmen have lost their sanity without your guidance."
"Calm down," resonates a second voice. "An example will be made: not
his message, but ours. This is
our town now."
The time is 3:30. After having suffered a head injury from a mugger downtown, an insomniac is sitting on his porch; at least, he thought it was his porch. Despite being on the west side of town, he could still faintly hear the ruckus from the east. A figure wielding a sawed-off shotgun walks past the house, his identity lightly obscured by fabric. He pauses to make eye contact with the insomniac. After a brief moment of staring, the figure nods and keeps moving. "Don't tell me things are going to go down on this side of town," the insomniac said to himself. "Keep that shit downtown."
The time is 4:20. Three thugs wielding crowbars walk through the streets, shattering the glass of vehicle windows at random. They have been at it for hours, progressing from the north to the southwestern part of town. They don't have personal issues with the owners of said cars; they are specifically a diversion. A light turns on from a nearby apartment. A person glances at the destruction on the road through a window, but is too afraid to take action. "What am I to do?" he thought. "What the hell is our mayor doing? Crime has never been worse."
The time is 5:50. The mayor's body hangs at the center of the town hall. Below, someone had intricately written "example" in the blood that had dripped off of the mayor's foot.
The time is 8:15. Three men are brought into the ER of the local hospital. "Well, what do we have here?" a doctor asks rather nonchalantly. "Looks like these guys are in some serious trouble." He notices that one of the patients has an unusual tattoo: a lizard getting eaten by a snake. "Hell, I don't even know if I'm doing the right thing anymore," the doctor muttered as he began to save the three patients.
The time is 11:25. Much of the town has fled in fear. With the mayor dead, formal investigations are no longer being performed. Those who remained gather at the town hall to discuss what must be done.
The time is 13:45. The citizens agree that starting tomorrow, at least one man would hang until the mafia are gone. "Democracy in action," a young man states sarcastically.
The time is 15:15. A claimed fortune teller is flowing through the streets. "You! Yes you! Did you know that you will be met with an unfortunate fate?" Everyone is greeted with this monotonous line, and everyone responds to it. "For a small fee," the fortune teller continues, "you may be able to save your very life!" Fear seems to be an effective way to make one part with their money.
The time is 16:40. A gunshot echoes through the west side of town for the first time. "Damn, you're fast," an armed yet disappointed man says to his target. He is met with silence. "Nothing to say, huh? Cat caught your tongue?" The silent man stares at him dully, with clear disapproval of the actions that recently occurred. After a brief moment of silence, the attacker aimed and pulled the trigger again. A pathetic click is emitted from the gun as it attempts to fire a non-existent bullet. "Heh," says the armed man, "count yourself lucky, pal; next time, you're dead." The armed man turns around and begins to leave. The silent man, after what appeared to be a moment of contemplation, draws his own weapon of choice.
The time is 16:50. A dead body is found on the west side of town. In his possession is an unloaded gun. No longer in his possession is the majority of his blood, which is now slowly spreading on the asphalt.
The time is 17:55. The sun begins to set, and it appears that the gathering darkness is symbolic with the fate of this town.
Night 1 begins. Send in your night actions before sunrise (ETA: 30 hours, give or take).
TiKels
