Utterly Mad

Dennis awoke with a jolt, he immediately reached for his non-existent 22. pistol that he usually keeps tucked into his coat pocket. He felt so... naked without it, like not finding your dog sleeping quietly at your feet or having your ID be missing, well the latter is kinda per-usual for him. Flipping his feet over the cot, running his fingers through his flowing blonde locks to push stray strands of hair behind his ears. Around him were surroundings as equally if not more depressing than how he's feeling this morning.

Honestly, if he didn't wake up here he would've thought the Armageddon outside was just his drug-addled mind creating the purple swirling skies, and causing the violent quaking beneath his feet. But alas someone was feeling kind enough to drag his unconscious body off his motorcycle to safety. He watched as the two other survivors passed by, paying no mind to him, but to the lockers that stood tall in the corner of the building. "Anyone manage to get a lick of sleep last night? I think it's these cots, my back feels as straight as plywood." Dennis cracks his back as he stretches from his cot. Slowly he marches over to the door, cracking one open he peeks out.

Early morning, skies aren't swirling purple like a fucked up Slurpee, but are the usual hazy morning-dew blue the normally are in the East Coast.