Post by Admin Chiv on Aug 30, 2017 18:41:18 GMT -5
02. NONSCENTSICLE
THE PETUNIA IN THE ONION PATCH!
With an awkward, manic wave, Valentina is gone. The planks beneath her feet slide away faster than she can react...and she is gone. Suddenly, you look up--and the sky is gone. In its place is a projection. You seem to be looking up at...a flower field? A pipe grows forth from the ground, upsetting a patch of petunias, and Valentina crawls from it. Her face is confused, perturbed; perhaps she's even more confused than her surviving peers.
As she drags her foot from the pipe, it slams shut, taking one of her shoes with it. Startled, she falls into the flowers. While they seem to cushion her fall, you notice it before she does: light green tendrils, crawling up her legs. Up her arms. Across her midriff. Everywhere, they grip, pull, until with a screaming cry, she rips her limbs toward the sky, uprooting the devious plants. With her arms free, she's able to pull free and scramble to her feet, the Aromatherapist now sprinting. In every direction, no matter where she looks, flowers reign tall in the horizon. It seems they get taller in the distance, forming a...cage, of sorts. A myriad of smells overwhelm her at once, and she stumbles once, twice, before regaining her balance. The flowers smell of rot, of chloroform, of sweat, cake, the ocean, fire, sour milk--the contestants become suddenly aware of the smell as well, and several bend over, clutching at their stomachs.
Still, she persists. Her legs pump as she tumbles and sprints through the flowers, fighting every wayward grass knot that wraps around her ankles and threatens to pull her under. It seems the field is getting thicker, as well; after some time, you realize she's buried up to her knees, wading through flowers like thick, polluted water. A sea of red, yellow, and orange is beginning to consume her.
Finally, she finds salvation. A large patch of flowers lays in the distance; it is brown, dead, and unlike the strange pulsating of the living flowers, it appears still and peaceful. Her pace increases, sweat pouring down her face, blood trickling from her ankles as the catching vines begin to grow thorny. With a cry of determination, she flings herself into the dead flowers, barely staying on her feet. She stops dead for a minute...and her face grows blank, her hands beginning to tremble even harder. Now, there's another smell in the air. Not of victory...but of blood. She tries to move, but finds herself stuck...'til she rips her leg forward with a pained scream, kicking it up into the air. Attached to her is one long, dead flower...but it appears the bottom of it is a rusty metal sicle, arcing forth directly into her calf. And as her eyes catch the new discovery, the plants around her jet high into the air, forming a cylinder...and with a rapid turn inward, they descend inward, flooding the Aromatherapist. The scream of terror lasts too long for anyone to find the smallest bit of justice in, nearly being drowned out by the noise of clashing steel.
And when the screaming ceases, so does all sound. All the scents fade away. The attacking flowers explode in a flurry of crumpled brown petals...but Valentina is nowhere to be seen. Slowly, the pipe rises forth once more from the soil, smaller now. With a cartoon-like pop!, a small vial hops forth from it, swirling in the air. The scene pauses, the pale red bottle suspended in the air, and zooms in.
The bottle reads: "The Final Fragrance of Valentina Rossi, The Sole Petunia In A Patch Of Onions".
The sky goes black, casting the contestants into darkness...and after a minute, the night sky fades in, the full moon peering down on the Island.
Valentina Rossi, the Aspiring Ultimate Aromatherapist, is dead.