ZooStuck 4: ZooStuck Mafia - Day 10: Murder Production Substantially Up

Day Six:

As the stale sunlight begins to filter through the shuttered windows of the Will Smith Corporation you do not so much awake as pull yourself, slightly winded, from the ground. You look around your new cubicle (you abandoned the old one, as even though Earthexe did do a very commendable job of washing the blood out of the walls, there was nothing to be done about the incriminating message scratched into them). Thankfully there are no fresh corpses here this morning. This is something of a relief. You are not sure you could handle that on as little sleep as you had.

You're operating a little sluggishly this morning, as such you're still freshening yourself up (splashing yourself with water from the restroom sink and swallowing down the last rations of your breath mint stockpile) at the time that the meteor hits.

Though exhausted and really quite hungry at this point in time, (has it really been five days since the buffet?) you feel the rush of adrenaline pumping through your body granting you the energy to deal with this catastrophe. You pull on your carat mask, and snap brimmed fedora before rushing from the restroom (maintaining your brand identity is important even in an emergency like this) into the communal area. Luckily (?), it appears that only one of your-

(friends? compatriots? suspects? given your mysterious, and very canon, amnesia it's difficult to know what to think of everyone else. It seems that you have some history with some of them at least but what that was and the extent of it is unclear. Maybe, you consider, that is what you should have been investigating. Perhaps knowing your relationship to your fellow prisoners would shed some light on the murders, or at the very least give you some idea who you can trust in this crazy place)

-colleagues was hit, though it's impossible to tell from the remains of them exactly who that is. The group is panicking, some are standing stunned, one individual has passed out entirely, out of the corner of your eye you see the intern identified as Sruixan loading up a precreated meteorite safety powerpoint slide. The meteorite sits, still ablaze from its entry to the atmosphere, in the middle of the communal area, the old cheap (formerly) lime green carpet around it slowly catching fire. After a moment of stunned disbelief (though only a moment, it's hard to cultivate a really strong sense of disbelief in an environment like this) you pull yourself together and start shouting asking if anyone knows where the fire extinguishers are in this office prison.

Luckily through a team effort you were capable of extinguishing the fire before too much damage was done. In the aftermath of accusations and acrimony you walk over to the gaping hole in the wall where the meteor crashed through. The area is littered with chunks of plaster, which crunch into powder beneath your feet. Through the whole you can see nothing but a white expanse. It makes you feel uneasy in a way you find difficult to articulate.

After a moment of inspection you lean out of the window a little, angling yourself to try to see the outside walls of the building. As you push your head through that gap in the wall it feels like you're submerging into ice cold water and you pull back instinctively.

With your adrenaline rush fading and the unpleasant feel of the void still clinging to your skin you feel like you could use a little sit down, ideally somewhere where you don't have to look at that disturbing blankness. You retire to your old cubicle, turn on the computer there and load up your investigation document. It's all about the murders. The greater mysteries of this place you never even touched on. You wonder how you should proceed from here.

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