Art cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah, something weird happened. The guy was dead for, like, four minutes, and then he rolled over and said 'hello.' But ... what now? What are we supposed to do?"
---
Roland gave up on the cages. There were no locks on them that he could see. It was as if they had been fashioned out of a single piece of ... whatever material they were made from.
Roland: "He sent me to meet ... I suppose you would call him my maker. There is another reality running parallel to this one in which a group of people use computers to tell stories. And as it turns out, we are characters in one such story."
Blaze shook his head. "Seriously, where did you go?"
Roland looked at him, and shrugged. "I've already told you. Now where did Fisher go?"
---
Streak saw that Kaira was looking at her with intense jealousy. She sighed.
Streak: "There isn't much to the story, really. I was taken from my home at about the age of seven, which, I guess, is when they found out I was a Breaker. This circus is a cover for people from other realities to give their Breakers a place to work. I've been acting as an attraction here ever since I was taken, as a cover for what they really have me doing. They make me Break reality... it's too complicated."
---
Dave made post 324 the following evening. He went to bed soon thereafter.
In the morning, he typed out what became post 331.
After posting it, he decided to run across the street and grab some breakfast.
He went downstairs and out the back door to the "road." This "road", while wide enough for two-way traffic, was seldom used by cars, except during move-in day and by service vehicles.
So Dave didn't expect any cars when he began moving across the "road."
A minivan swerved around a corner and Dave did see it, but knew he'd get across the road in time.
The van sped up.
Dave was surprised, and, unfortunately, stopped walking.
The van swerved and hit him, knocking him back and tearing over him. The van did not stop.
Dave looked up at the clear sky, people in the area already screaming and coming over. Dave heard someone begin to gag. Dave began to wonder how bad he looked.
He tried to turn his head, but his neck screamed in protest. He tried to move his legs and stand up, but they only joined the chorus his neck began.
Dave wonders vaguely if his hands are scraped.
Dave dies.
---
Real Dave has a reason for killing fictional Dave. He'll reveal it in his next post.
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