Whispers Behind the Door: Difference between revisions

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Evidence: It didn't meet QS, which is the sign of an actual bad pasta.
imported>Kokujo Kyoshiro
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m (Evidence: It didn't meet QS, which is the sign of an actual bad pasta.)
 
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My arm fell limp at my side, the dehydration slowly getting too me. I looked around the room and coughed. It's been three days.
 
I had been stuck in this closet (''"Maybe it's a cupboard''" I thought, chuckling) for the past three days, my already nearly empty water supply having been emptied the day before.
 
Now, I could barely move because of how tired I was. How hungry I was. How thirsty I was.
 
''"Why am I here?''" I thought wearily, licking my lips, thinking of how delicious a small cup of fresh water would be.
 
I leaned my head against the door area of this room. I had tried breaking it down on the first day after it wouldn't open, but that had failed.
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Still, I heard barely anything, but their conversation was very... interesting.
 
''"Are they talking about me?''" I thought with a quirked eyebrow, ''"Or somebody else? Are they the reason I'm here?''"
 
I heard a pair of footsteps walk towards the door and put something on the ground.
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"Do what you want," the man behind the door chuckled, "Either way, the next time we come here, this room will smell of copper."
[[Category:Deletion Log Refugees]]
[[Category:Bad Creepypasta]]
[[Category:Pages with grammar that doesn't suck]]
[[Category:DIALOGUE!]]
[[Category:Shortpasta]]
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