This is Player of Lia's log from the forums. She was kind enough to allow me to use it. This plot had many more scenes with several other people which I unfortunately do not have the logs to.
WARNING: This log touches some topics that other may find upsetting, including rape, murder, and child molestation.
This event is a dream caused by the ghost of an Abomination teacher named Mr. McCoy. Students who hung out at the abandoned class at midnight were made to have forced dreams each night where they attend a class that reenact atrocities committed by humans over the course of history. Lia was the only player to participate this particular night and saw a very special atrocity.
Lia awakes with her head on a desk. There is a low droning of voices, whispers that she can not make heads or tails of. When she opens her eyes though they all hush. There is a student body here, a class of corpses, a class of people with bullet holes in their head, limbs missing, throats slashed, and even eyes gone. They all have their bodies turned to examine Lia, the only living one amongst them.
Lia lets out a quiet groan, pressing her wrist against her forehead like someone might when they're just waking up. Focusing on the room takes a bit longer, blinking her drowsy eyes a few times. When she finally chances taking in the scene, she becomes quite still in her seat.
Lia feels like this is... Different...
Haven High School - Classroom Along the western side of the classroom, two black chalkboards dominate the full length of the natural brick with the optional addition of a massive projector screen able to be pulled down when needed. A dull apricot paint has been slathered upon the other three walls, decorated with humdrum artwork that would be a challenge to distract even the most elusive student. Neat rows of individual desks and chairs face the front desk, too far from the northern windows to comfortably see outside.
An eyeless boy smiles, with blood dripping from his fleshy sockets. "Quiet down class, it's time for roll call." A monotone voice booms, its sound filling the classroom. Standing at the front of the room is something that mostly resembles a human. He stands at a eight feet tall, with a regular sized torso but freakishly long limbs that give him his height. He's an ashen skin thing in a white button shirt and brown khakis, both of which are completely stained red with fresh blood. His face though is the most horrid of all. This black haired man has completely black eyes that are locked right on Lia, and most striking of all, he's missing his lower jaw. Where it should be is just a gaping hole that leads to his throat, with bone, flesh, and skin hanging out, all oozing blood over his front. He has a clipboard in hand which he bleeds all over.
Lia thinks; 'It's probably good that we didn't manage to gut that cheerleader that one time...'
There's silence reigning over the usually loud Lia, her smoky eyes fixed on the cadaverous teacher and her olive complexion paling several shades. Finally, she sucks in a breath and straightens up some more, gaze darting around.
If Lia was hoping to find exits, there are none. The scene outside the windows is pitch blackness, and the door that would normally be in one of her classes is just a wall. The teacher begins to call out names, with each corpse raising it's hand and answering in a quiet tone, "Present." He calls a name that Lia might now. "Alexei Volkov?" A desk near Lia is empty. "Skipping class I see."
Lia's eyes move to the desk near her when the name is spoken, and she reflexively does what any teenager does when someone is accused of skipping: she blurts out a correction. "He's sick. Flu. Like, it's super bad."
Lia feels like an idiot.
The Monster of a Man turns his head to Lia, which causes his tongue to dangle and sway with the motion. He takes steps towards Lia, long legs carrying him there quickly even if he walks slow. "There are two things I do not tolerate in this class," the voice drones, even if he has no jaw he talks just fine. The thing is next to Lia now, towering over her. "It's liars and those who talk out of turn. Now what do you have to say for yourself?"
In a show of stubbornness not unlike her crazy aunt, Lia straightens her posture and tries to feign fearless obstinacy, though her eyes can't stay on Mr. Monster's ruined face for long and she slouches in her seat again, covering her face with a hand. Mostly. "I.. Eugh.. Nothing."
Lia feels nauseated. That's one ugly mug.
Long, spindly fingers wrap the top of Lia's head. His fingers are so long he can wrap his hand completely around her head. Like he is popping a cork off a white bottle, The Teacher rips Lia's head right off her shoulders. She can feel everything from her skin, muscles, and arteries, and things she doesn't even know a name for to her bones breaking as her head comes right off. And somehow, through it all, her head is still alive, even as she see's her body fall limp over the desk, gushing a waterfall of blood over the desk and onto the floor.
Lia thinks; 'This was a bad idea. But, y'know, it's not like you waltz into a room with the express notion of 'Hey, I bet it's really haunted!', what sort of idiot thinks ghosts are re--'
Lia's expression wavers from pallid illness to simply horrified in a matter of seconds, smoky eyes losing their drowsy quality in favor of something much more open and much more disturbed. After all, that isn't something one sees every day.
With Lia's head underarm, the jawless teacher walks to the front of the classroom and continues roll call. Lia's head drips blood on the ground as they walk, and when she's in front of the room she can see the entire undead class, including one headless body of a recently deceased brat bleeding all over her table. "Ashlyn Reeves and Ayden Kane are both partially here." Lia can see two desks near her that don't have undead students like the rest of them, but instead two shadows shaped like students. If Lia knows Ashlyn well enough, she'd recognize the ponytail.
Lia mumbles something to herself, her eyes darting around in her disembodied head as if once more observing the room for ways to flee. Not that fleeing is quite useful without a body, of course. When that knowledge settles in, she observes the undead class instead with negligible familiarity in the few individuals who aren't completely deceased.
Lia feels her heart rise up in her throat. Funny, since it's not whole right now.
Lia knows none of the undead students. Do they even go to her school? They are all in rather dated, 50s-like clothing. Clean cut and everything. The teacher continues roll call, eventually reaching the Js. That's where something weird happens. He calls out a name, but the name is beeped out. He looks to an empty chair at the front of the class, and he ask, "Has anyone seen -Beep-? She hasn't been in class at all." The undead class shake all their heads at once.
The beep startles the bodiless head of Lia, her eyes darting to peek up at the monstrous individual reading roll call. Then she looks to the empty chair at the front, and unfortunately looks back at her bleeding body, which sparks another flurry of nausea.
Lia thinks; 'You can scream, y'know. It won't be like Mia's, but I bet you could do it.'
Lia feels sick.
The Jawless Thing finishes roll call without any further weirdness. Unless you consider the whole situation weird. Long fingers grip Lia by the hair and hold her out by it to show the class like some sort of macabre show and tell. "Class, I would like for you to meet our newest student, Lia Inigo. Lia, please tell us a little about yourself."
Lia's mouth opens and shuts, a bit like a bass when you pull it out of the lake. She's grasping for words that don't come to her, and stammering over the few crutch words that manage to escape her lips.
"Interesting Lia. Perhaps you can make friends here with similar interest?" The Teacher responds to Lia's babble. "I am Mister McCoy, and this is The Follies of Man. I hope I can teach you a lot tonight. Are you ready to learn?"
Finally, Lia manages some actual words. "N-no? No. No, like, this is some stupid bad dream," she decides. How convincing! It doesn't relax the Inigo girl's bodiless head, and she continues to stammer over some of her crutch words, eyes darting about nervously.
Lia feels like waking up. Yep. Bad dream, that's all, she has those still!
"But Miss Inigo. You don't have a choice," Mister McCoy responds to Lia, turning her head around to meet his black eyes. "You entered this class. And now you must stay here and learn."
Lia shudders in answer, squinting her own eyes shut tightly. How a head can shudder is a mystery, perhaps, but she manages to do it, mumbling about bad dreams.
Lia thinks; 'I hit my head, that's all. That's gotta be it. I'm at home or something. No idiot goes out after gramps' curfew, right? Right.'
Mister McCoy drops Lia's head on the ground. She hits the ground with a painful thump, rolling a little. It doesn't hurt that much until a big shoe comes down and smashes strait through Lia's skull and smears her brain onto the tile floor below. She's alive just long enough to see a bit of her brain matter until she passes out.
Lia lets out quite a shrill shrieking noise, cut off when her head is squished. Rather like hitting an animal with your car.
A shack in West Haven Everything in this cramped living space is dingy, dirty, and filled with trash. Dirty dishes, half eaten food, packs of condoms, and garbage piled on every surface. This place smells like a dump and looks like an earthquake hit it.
Lia is no longer Lia. She is Victoria McCoy, eight years old, and right now it's 1936. You have your head on attached and are completely awake, though right now you'd probably prefer if you were dreaming or dead. Daddy snuck into your bed again, he's been doing it for years, even more lately. He touched you in funny ways, put funny things inside you, and left you all sore and sticky again. He's gone now, he rolled out of the bed and headed back into his room a few minutes ago. You know your brother John is awake, there was no way it couldn't sleep through the crying. He has his back to you, but you know he's awake. What's he going to do though? He tried to stop Daddy once, but Daddy hit him so hard the doctors didn't think he was ever going to wake up. Mommy doesn't care, she hates you for it. You don't know why, but she hates you. You want it to stop. You want it to stop so bad. It hurts so much.
Lia blinks her eyes a few times, seeming disoriented as her eyes flit around and her hand reaches out to touch something nearby, perhaps checking to see if it's real. An odd thing for a little girl in her own bed to do, but she does it anyways, the movement fidgety and anxious. Eventually, she sits herself up, grimacing as she does it and hunching forward over her lap.
Lia feels pain radiating in her hips.
"Vicky?" John, age twelve, calls from his bed. Vicky was a common nickname people who know Victoria, aka Lia. His voice is small and weak, and the boy lays curled up in a fetal position.
Lia shakes her head, clearing out some arbitrary thought. After remaining hunched over for a minute more, she abandons her bed and pads over to her brother's, giving nervous glances to where her parents are as she clambers into the other bed instead without consideration for the state she's in. "My stomach hurts."
Lia thinks; 'Wish he'd stop doing that..'
John rolls over and wraps an arm around Lia, pulling her into a loose hug. "I know...I know..." he says in a quiet whisper, a glistening of tears in his eyes.
"Boy's aren't supposed to cry." Serious, quiet advice from Lia, but she clings desperately all the same, her face finding a hiding spot between John's shoulder and sternum. The disturbing conduct of their father isn't mentioned further; rather, the eight-year-old spends several minutes crying, again, with the sound muffled against her brother.
Lia feels like throwing up; her stomach really hurts.
John's crying is a lot quieter. But Lia can feel the tears falling into her silky locks of black hair. She hated this hair. Daddy always says that her hair is pretty. She even tried cutting the hair off, but he would only beat her harder for it. His arms wrap tight around her shoulders as he holds the girl. After a while and both of them start to calm down, he suggests in a meek voice, "Want to play Fairies?" Fairies was their game, a game they had invented long ago. They would go out into the woods and John would be the Fairy King, while Lia would be the lost princess. John would grant Lia one wish, and he would give her that (even if it was make pretend) and they would live together happily ever after. Even if he could never grant her a wish, it always made her feel better afterwards.
Lia sucks in a few last, difficult breaths, the way all little girls crying end their tears, before wiping at her eyes with her hands. John's suggestion gets a nod and his little sister squirms out of the bed again. She doesn't take a bath, but she tries to clean herself off without waking anyone else, and she puts on one of her dresses and her socks and shoes. It's not a terribly efficient thing, her hands are still shaking, but she manages. Her hair gets tied back, to keep it out of her eyes. She gets her coat. Sullenly, the little girl hovers around her brother, looking off to where their parents are with the quick reflex of a wounded animal whenever any noise is made on either side.
Lia feels six shades of dejected. It isn't even dejected; depression this low should never get felt by a little girl.
John dresses himself as well, grabbing his coat and shoes and quietly slips them on. By this time Daddy has passed out drunk, he always does. The older brother grabs his younger sister's hand, both of them quiet as cats as they sneak for the door. The forest isn't far, they live near the edge of the woods. West Haven isn't a trailer park at this day in age, instead it's a slum, with cheap one story houses made of paper thin walls. He guides Lia off to the trees, looking back at Lia with a pitiful look every so often.
Passed out or not, the girl has some trouble crossing the threshold of space before their father's bed, but she manages to do that too with the help of John's guiding. Lia half-walks/half-skips/half-trots after her brother to keep up with his steps, stumbling over herself once or twice and watching her feet more than where they're going. "It's cold." Besides the statement of the obvious, she's silent.
"We're almost there," John says to Lia, guided by the moonlight deep into the forest. They eventually reach a small grove. John lets go of Lia's hand and leaps before her, turning on the best acting a twelve year old can muster. "Who's this who treads in my grove?" Asks the boy in an authoritative tone. His arms are folded across his chest.
Lia smiles, though not brightly, as her eyes adjust to the moonlight. Putting her hands behind her back, she too adopts a childish level of acting, puffing up and trying to look fearless in the face of a stranger as lost maidens are wont to be. "Princess Victoria. Who says this is your grove? Perhaps it's my grove, I think I'd like that, if it weren't far away from my castle - is it?" She slouches a little and looks befuddled.
"I am the Elven King Johnan!" John declares triumphantly, waving his hand over the clear area behind them. "These are my woods you trespass in, Princess. This is my royal court." He takes a step to Lia, gaze meeting her's challengingly. "Why do you wander my halls?"
A sharp breath is sucked in as she braces herself, peeking past John into the clear area behind him. "I got lost," Lia admits after a moment, and only once her feigned obstinacy has subsided, "I was running away.."
The Elven King looks Lia over with a scrutinizing eye. "Mmmm...running away? So you have no home..." The boy scratches at his chin, eyes level with the smaller Lia as he leans in. "Then let this become your home. Be my Queen, live with me forever in the forest. And in exchange, I will grant you one wish."
Though asking it has always made it too painful too bear, you can't help it tonight. He was so rough with you, you're still sore. You want to ask for it to stop. Even if you know John can't make it happen, even in pretend.
"A wish?" Lia echoes, the hope that comes into her girlish features rather heartbreaking, only made worse as tears start to cling to her lashes. Quietly, as if she expects him to hear, she tells the 'Elven King' an answer before he confirms that she receives a wish: "I want to go away.. Or for daddy to go away.. I want it to not happen again.." Her face scrunches up as she says it, warding off crying.
There is a long moment of pause from John as he looks into Lia's eyes. After what seems like an entirety, he answers in a low voice, "Close your eyes, and I'll make sure he never hurts you again." John's playful nature has faded, instead his face looks kind of blank. But this is the first time he's ever answered this question with a promise to grant her wish.
A few tears manage to escape her attempts to ward them off when Lia squeezes her eyes shut, eager to have a few more minutes of hope before reality sinks in again. She bounces on her toes a moment, rocks one foot out to rest it sideways on the ground, then stands right again and gives a solemn exhale.
Lia feels her stomach sink.
John leans in and plants a kiss on Lia's forehead, a sweet little gesture he often does. Then two hands wrap around her neck, squeezing tight, cutting off the little girl's airway with a strong grip. John's always been strong, even for a child. And how he's using that strength to strangle Lia. There are tears in his eyes, he's sobbing loudly as he squeezes.
The fleeting smile that came with the kiss to her forehead disappears and Lia's eyes open again, small hands ineffectually trying to claw her brother's hold off as her breathing becomes ragged and labored. Only a moment of that's necessary before the little girl loses consciousness in the hold.
As Lia loses herself, John speaks soft, loving words to her through sobs. "I love you Vicky. He won't ever hurt you again now. I'm sorry." Blackness takes over her vision, and when Lia wakes, she's in a shallow grave, being buried by Mister McCoy. "Twisted carnal desires broke an innocent girl's heart and body night after night. When they found the grave she was buried in twenty years later, they even discovered she was pregnant. A father who was suppose to love his children instead lead the brother to mercy kill his sister." The Jawless Teacher covers Lia in dirt, towering over the girl. "Both of these are the Follies of Man." Dirt covers Lia and she is smothered by the blackness.
Lia awakens where she has fallen on the dusty floor.
Lia jolts to her feet, a panicked scream escaping her, far too shrill to be the scream of your average teenager but not quite possessed of the banshee nature her sister exhibits. Her fingers grasp at her face, her shoulders, chest, stomach, the teen slouching against the nearest wall until she's satisfied she's in one piece, eyes darting around nervously. And once she's come to her fragile senses, the coltish woman bolts, barely scraping past the frame of the door.