A Crooked Little Town (Horror-ish!AU)

((So, I was listening to Billy Talent and heard Fallen Leaves or w/e that song is called and it sparked this interesting idea of an rp. I'm going to post what I wrote out to remember the idea here to give more details on what's going on (it will be the uncoloured text), then I'll have my post (coloured text). The detail post isn't controlling your character. You have to write out how your character got there, not just 'oh you got there from the car crash in the thingy'. You have to write out why you were traveling and how you ended up in the town, y'know... give some back story.))

((Another thing; we can all be driving in different countries, but either way we all end up in this town trapped in limbo))

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There's an odd little town in the middle of some odd forest, both with no name and no defining features. As you drove along the road the closer you got to the little town, the sleepier you got and the more fog accumulated around your car. Suddenly, as if you entered a loop hole through time into the future it's dark as night. Your car's lights reflect against the water particles, blinding you to the road ahead and just as you think you'll pull over for the night you veer off the road and crash into a tree.

You awake laying on a dark, cracked pavement road winding down and through various old run-down buildings. Around you are houses with boarded up windows and odd men and women with tusks, bulging foreheads... each one had it's own defining feature, but each one was revolting. They give you hateful glares as you stumble up to your feet, the leaves of dark trees hung orange and yellow some had fallen and crunched with each of your steps. The air was surprisingly warm and filled with light, but something made everything feel dark and unwelcoming.

Turning around you ran, unsure of what you were running from but you ran. You reached a road that lead out of the town, but as you ran down it you found yourself nearing yet another town. As you entered it you realized that it was the exact same town. Panic settled in your heart as you turned around, bulbous men with faces red bark deep laughter from their porches and their wives glared forks into you. As everything dawned on you, your hope seemed to have shriveled up and die. You were stuck in a crooked little town, forever lost.

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Harold drove along the highway, the same flat scenery he started driving with continuously rolled by. He sighed, looking down at the clock in his car. 10:30. Early morning driving wasn't all that fun, having to stop for coffee on the way out and having to drink it all along the roads. It wasn't fun. Especially alone. He had only the coffee and the radio to help keep him awake and he sped down the road, desperate to get to the beach for an important party filled with drunk horny people. It was a party he couldn't afford to miss, luckily it went on for the whole weekend but still, making it for the whole weekend is something he wanted to achieve... without forgetting the whole thing, which meant limiting his alcohol.

He sighed, looking towards the glove compartment. He had stored a flask of vodka in there for long lonely nights where he had to pull over, he wasn't stupid enough to drink the contents while driving - although it seemed rather tempting now. He looked back up to the road, scanning ahead and looking through all the mirrors before reaching over and opening the compartment. He left it open, the shining canister glaring in the corner of his eye as he stared back out onto the road with both hands around the wheel. He twisted his hands with a tightened grip, that shine with its glorious mind-numbing contents just teased him as he drove.

He groaned, slamming the compartment shut after he had pulled the flask out and placed it near the gearshift far from his peripherals. He could still feel the call of the alcohol, goring it's nonexistent eyes into the side of his head. He let out an elongated groan, turning up the radio to the point he couldn't hear himself groan. He grabbed the container, bracing his wrists on the wheel to keep it steady as he twisted off the cap. The cap hung on to the neck of the bottle with a chain, clanking inaudibly against the side. He gripped the wheel properly with his left hand and held the bottle in his right, just below the top of the wheel.

He sighed, staring far along the road. The smell of the alcohol danced along his sense, making him glance briefly at it. He shook his head, as if he was telling himself to not drink it even though he made no move to put it away. He stared back down the road, noticing a static buzz sounding quietly under the layers of music provided by the radio. He was amazed that he had kept within good range of any radio signals, but that was when he started to notice a few odd things. Firstly, the same song - even if he drowned it out earlier - was repetitively playing, no commercials interrupting the straight broadcasting. Secondly, the clock, now 10:46, had not changed in what he though was an hour.

He blinked, was it just him, or had he been driving past the same things over and over? Shaking away the thoughts he tilted his head back, bringing the flask to his lips and taking a small gulp of the strong drink into his mouth, swallowing it with a content sigh. Bracing his wrists against the wheel again he twisted the cap back onto the flask, and as if by doing so he unlocked himself from the time-trap he was stuck in. Throwing the container back into the glove box he looked back to the road, startled to find all his surroundings darkened as if night came like a tsunami.

With an aching head he turned down the repetitive song that somehow found its way to the maximum volume. His ears rang loudly as he slowed his car down, taking a moment to look up at the sky. Not a single star could be seen from where he leaned over the steering wheel, not even the moon was visible. He could feel his tiny frame quake with unease, unsure of what to think of his current situation. Pulling to a stop at the side of the road. Leaning into his side window his breathed, a sudden chill filled the car making his breath fog the window.

As he stared out the window he swore he could've saw the winding branches of trees making a canopy above him, but he refused to believe a thing he saw, pulling a blanket out from the backseat behind him. Wrapping himself tightly he turned on the inner car lights, taking the map from the passenger seat. Unfolding the map he squinted at it, following the curling lines that would be roads only they weren't. He tossed the map back, unable to make sense of it and curse under his breath. If he hadn't drank that rank vodka he probably wouldn't be in this mess, even if it was just a small sip. Looking at the clock that now read 00:00 he rested back into his seat, shutting his eyes in hopes to get a better start in the morning.

Harold awoke with a jolt, deep yelling was heard as if it were right next to him. As he opened his eyes it turns out it was right beside him, coming from the most hideous creature he'd ever seen before. He couldn't make sense of the yelling, but the red-faced glowered angrily at him gesturing as if to make Harold move, and move he did. Jumping to his feet as quickly as he could he bolted off to some molded house just a little ways away from where he woke. Rounding the corner of the building he turned, looking back just in time to see some blurred figure - probably that monster that shooed him off - drive off in his car. He ran back out, shouting curses and threats after the car.

After making a fool of himself for a few more moments he sat down on the crumbling curb of the sidewalk that had weeds growing out of snaking cracks. He sighed, looking around at his new surroundings. Hopelessness and fear sunk into his heart, not only was his car gone, but he was someplace he had never seen before. The place stunk like sewage, clearly from the overflowing drains along the street. The stench could've came from anything, but at the moment Harold wanted to blame it on the simplest thing possible. Simplicity. That was something he desperately wanted as he stood, beginning to walk down the street not noticing the grotesque figures between the boarded up windows.

He walked for an hour, feet crunching against fallen leaves of reds, oranges, and yellows. He swore those leaves were out to get him, seeing as how plenty had already fallen from their tree in time to slap him across his face. He even walked through along a road that had nothing around it, hoping beyond all hope it was a way out, but as he continued he found himself back in the little crooked town. Yet, he kept walking until he found the spot where he had woken, taking back his place on the curb. He wished someone would notice his disappearance and would send help, if help could even be sent.