1st Hatred - Welcome to Mayfield

[hell_wheel]

[Wanyudo wakes up. That's the first sign something is wrong.

The fact he is in a bed is the second.

Looking around, he closes his eyes and focuses on returning home. Nothing happens. He feels weird. Wrong. He can't return, though, and he can't change. Both of those things bother him and he sits up in bed and frowns. The room has pictures. Including him and a lovely young woman. Oh, and a couple of kids as well.

Moving from the bed, he goes to the closet, noting the clothes before picking out an outfit and snagging a classy hat. Well, he's dressed and his head is covered. The clothes fit at least.

This didn't look like Japan, so the next order of business was figuring out where. Walking over to the phone, picking it up and trying to dial information.]

[Phone | Everyone]

[An older man's voice comes over the phone.]

Hello? Information?

Hello?

Comments

[busy_fists]

Not yet, but I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to get acquainted.

[hell_wheel]

I don't know if I'll be staying long.

[Obviously, he knows so little about this.

Still, that assumption bothered him. Something is very wrong.]

Unless I am missing something?

[busy_fists]

Unfortunately, nobody leaves this town under their own power.

[hell_wheel]

No one?

Who stops them?

[He's not used to being unable to go where he pleases. Then again, he's not used to waking up in a role he didn't actively put himself in.]

[busy_fists]

This town loops around in circles. If you try to leave, you'll just walk back in on the other side.

[hell_wheel]

Are you sure we aren't just in hell?

[busy_fists]

I suppose that's always a possibility, but I don't think that's what's going on here.

[hell_wheel]

That would make things easier to understand at least.

Do you have a theory?

[busy_fists]

Well, I never said I had one of those either.

[hell_wheel]

That was just an old man hoping, I suppose.

Okay then, have you ever heard of the Hell Correspondants.

[busy_fists]

What is that, a new biker gang?

[hell_wheel]

It'd be a good name for one, but I am afraid not.

So, what should an old man watch out for here?

[busy_fists]

The monthly plots by the town to kill us or get us to kill each other for them. Mainly that, really.

[hell_wheel]

Monthly? When is the next one?

[busy_fists]

If their usual pattern holds up, probably on St. Patrick's Day. A week from today.

[hell_wheel]

Thank you for the warning.

[busy_fists]

Are you familiar with the holiday at all? If not, expect their prank to involve the color green, tiny little Irishmen with pots of gold, four-leaf clovers, alcohol, or any combination of the above.

[hell_wheel]

I'm not...

... That is a strange holiday.

[busy_fists]

I promise it all fits together in a way that mostly makes sense.

[hell_wheel]

I will have to take your word for it.

How long hav eyou been here, if you do not mind me asking?

[busy_fists]

About four months now.

[hell_wheel]

Is it a big change for you, this place?

[busy_fists]

Compared to where I was before coming here, it's a lot different. I wouldn't actually call it any more dangerous, though.

[hell_wheel]

Danger is fairly relative to who you are, I would think.

[busy_fists]

That's true.