[[Hayley Kelly continued from White Knight Nightmare]]
Hayley Kelly was all sorts of exhausted. Physically, obviously, she was tired. She wasn't particularly strong, but she had volunteered to help Alex walk, since Charlene was injured and Maddy was...well, she would've felt guilty making her do it. They'd made it pretty far, and at this point she was getting pretty sweaty. Gross. Plus my makeup's all smudged, I've got blood on me...I need to fix myself ASAP. I mean, shit, Hayley, you're on camera, take care of your shit.
Mentally, though...
She shook her head, for reasons unobservable. Nineteen kids. Nine-fucking-teen. Jesus fucking Christ, I had fewer kids than that at my birthday party last year. That's like, all of my cousins three times over. That's...that's a lot of dead people. She couldn't make herself get emotional over it, though. One was a tragedy, nineteen was a statistic, especially because she wasn't close with any of the broadcasted corpses or their killers. Sure, she recognized names, but it wasn't anyone she felt the need to get upset over.
But still. There are people doing this. Killing. Maybe they were attacked first? Maybe it was all self-defense...that's understandable.
But that still means someone attacked first.
Hayley shook her head again. The last cigarette she had, back in the Greens, was long gone, and she desperately craved another one. Pace your fuckin' ass. You're down four, you've got 36 left to last you god knows how long, so chill, alright? You can do this?
No I can't.
Shut up, brain.
They were here. The 'Fun Fair'. Hayley couldn't help but let a strangled giggle escape her throat. Oh the bloody IRONY. Wonder if anyone else decided to wander over here? It seems like a weird place to go, but hey, it's kind of really really funny in a sick sort of way. Especially if someone dies here, that would be some sick shit. She watched disinterestedly as the sun began to rise, casting shadows everywhere and making it harder to see, if anything. She wrinkled the nose at the smoke in the distance, following Alex's gaze.
"Someone could be hurt over there."
"Yeah," Hayley said, raising an eyebrow, "or there could be a fight going on and you, mister I-got-shot-in-the-motherfucking-arm, need to not charge suicidally into things and in fact need to sit the fuck down and rest for a while, alright?" She punctuated that point by lowering herself, and thus Alex, helping him to the ground. "Lets stay here for now. It seems to be pretty empty, if there's anyone over there they won't see us here, and if anyone shows up I'll get rid of 'em. Easy peasy." She grinned. "We're good. Now, I'm super hungry, so-"
"Hayley?!"
She knew that voice.
For a moment she couldn't move. She couldn't believe it. It was unbelievable, that was why she couldn't believe it.
And yet, so it was.
"...K...Kyle?!"
And then she was off running, the sword dropping from her hand, and she crashed into the figure that was already quite close by and very nearly knocked him over. She flung her arms around his neck, squeezing him tighter than she ever had. He's alive he's okay he's here Kylekylekyle oh god Kyle he's okay thank god holy shit-
For the moment everything else- that smoke off in the distance in particular- were complete irrelevant.
"Kyle...I-I was so...fucking...worried..."
Some side part of her brain reminded her that she was an extreme mess right now. Another part of her brain reminded her that this, all things considered, didn't matter much, and the rest of her brain completely ignored those parts.
Because Hayley, for a few moments at least, was happy.
Break Up And Break Down
Start of (the end of) G010
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Hollyquin†
- Posts: 332
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:24 am
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Little Boy†
- Posts: 256
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 4:47 am
Roland felt as if time was being pulled apart at the seams, distorted into a shape unfamiliar to him. He had asked Alex a question, he was sure of that. What he wasn't so sure of was how Alex had managed to run across the Fair Ground in a blink of an eye, disappearing out of view.
But he was just here. He was just here, with Robert. How long...
He blinked, slow and deliberate.
I'm losing my head. I can't.. He ran. I need to get him. I need to talk to him.
Roland couldn't move. He opened his eyes, looking around once more. The smoke was gone. Alex was nowhere to be seen. Robert... was still there. As if he would be anywhere else. Roland's spit, red from Robert's blood, dribbled down his chin onto his dampened sweater. The sun was setting.
How long... How.. What have I done? How long have I been here? How long?
Roland once more struggled to his feet, this time he succeeded. He felt numb, his hands were tingling incessantly. It was growing cold, but he refused to believe the temperature was the only thing causing the chill he suddenly felt running down his spine. He slowly turned his head, regarding Robert... or what remained of the boy. The site was horrifying, the boy's organs and intestines were splayed across the ground nearby and a sickening scent filled the air. Despite the grotesque display, Roland refused to budge or remove his gaze. He needed to look. He needed to be able to take this.
Is this how it feels? Is this how it's supposed to feel after...
The immediate area around Robert had been drenched with his lifeblood, but it was fading now to a duller color. Roland viewed the scene, trying his hardest to remain detached, remote. The memory of the killing was fresh in his mind, although the details faded. He remembered plunging the blade deep within his neck, the roar of the chainsaw... He had the pieces, but linking them was causing some trouble. Roland pushed the matter aside. He had survived, he was the same, was he not?
I did this. This.. was me. I killed this boy. I am a murderer.
After what seemed like an eternity, Roland removed his glasses, wiping them clean with his sweater.
I am a marine. I am a marine.
He began to pace around the clearing, around Robert's remain. His gaze never leaving the corpse. Occasionally he ran his hands through his black hair. After some time it occurred to Roland that Dave and Isabel had left, and it didn't appear likely they would return. He could feel an all too real sting at that- they had witnessed it, he was certain. For all his words, everything he had said to them, to Merry...
This means nothing to me, death- I am better than death. I understand it, I'm not afraid of it. This was the only way- Robert acted irrationally, he forced my hand. Alex is alive because of me. Dave, Isabel. If I meet you again, you know my goal. I'm taking you with me. You might think I'm just talk, but you're on my team now, you haven't changed. You'll see. I look at death and I am not afraid. I am Roland, I'm a marine and I can win.
Roland bent down and grabbed the handle of Charlene. With a mighty tug, he hauled the blade out of the back of Roberts' neck.
I need to wash this..., I need a shower. I won't be gaining much trust, many allies in my current state... This wasn't a mistake. I can beat this game. I will beat this game.
A shape near the side of an attraction finally drew his attention. Lowering his blade, Roland walked over. The shape... was moving, that was clear. Breathing at least. A sudden realization hit Roland, Kitty. The girl from before, she had a grenade. A smoke bomb?
Dropping his weapon, Roland ran to her side. He crouched down, shaking her shoulder to rouse her from her sleep. He could feel his heart pumping once more.
"Shit, shit! Kitty? Kitty, wake up!" Roland looked at the girl up and down. He couldn't spot any injuries, it seemed like she'd just banged her head. Most likely Alex ha- no, Robert, most likely Robert had attacked her.
"Kitty, you're alright now. Can you stand?"
But he was just here. He was just here, with Robert. How long...
He blinked, slow and deliberate.
I'm losing my head. I can't.. He ran. I need to get him. I need to talk to him.
Roland couldn't move. He opened his eyes, looking around once more. The smoke was gone. Alex was nowhere to be seen. Robert... was still there. As if he would be anywhere else. Roland's spit, red from Robert's blood, dribbled down his chin onto his dampened sweater. The sun was setting.
How long... How.. What have I done? How long have I been here? How long?
Roland once more struggled to his feet, this time he succeeded. He felt numb, his hands were tingling incessantly. It was growing cold, but he refused to believe the temperature was the only thing causing the chill he suddenly felt running down his spine. He slowly turned his head, regarding Robert... or what remained of the boy. The site was horrifying, the boy's organs and intestines were splayed across the ground nearby and a sickening scent filled the air. Despite the grotesque display, Roland refused to budge or remove his gaze. He needed to look. He needed to be able to take this.
Is this how it feels? Is this how it's supposed to feel after...
The immediate area around Robert had been drenched with his lifeblood, but it was fading now to a duller color. Roland viewed the scene, trying his hardest to remain detached, remote. The memory of the killing was fresh in his mind, although the details faded. He remembered plunging the blade deep within his neck, the roar of the chainsaw... He had the pieces, but linking them was causing some trouble. Roland pushed the matter aside. He had survived, he was the same, was he not?
I did this. This.. was me. I killed this boy. I am a murderer.
After what seemed like an eternity, Roland removed his glasses, wiping them clean with his sweater.
I am a marine. I am a marine.
He began to pace around the clearing, around Robert's remain. His gaze never leaving the corpse. Occasionally he ran his hands through his black hair. After some time it occurred to Roland that Dave and Isabel had left, and it didn't appear likely they would return. He could feel an all too real sting at that- they had witnessed it, he was certain. For all his words, everything he had said to them, to Merry...
This means nothing to me, death- I am better than death. I understand it, I'm not afraid of it. This was the only way- Robert acted irrationally, he forced my hand. Alex is alive because of me. Dave, Isabel. If I meet you again, you know my goal. I'm taking you with me. You might think I'm just talk, but you're on my team now, you haven't changed. You'll see. I look at death and I am not afraid. I am Roland, I'm a marine and I can win.
Roland bent down and grabbed the handle of Charlene. With a mighty tug, he hauled the blade out of the back of Roberts' neck.
I need to wash this..., I need a shower. I won't be gaining much trust, many allies in my current state... This wasn't a mistake. I can beat this game. I will beat this game.
A shape near the side of an attraction finally drew his attention. Lowering his blade, Roland walked over. The shape... was moving, that was clear. Breathing at least. A sudden realization hit Roland, Kitty. The girl from before, she had a grenade. A smoke bomb?
Dropping his weapon, Roland ran to her side. He crouched down, shaking her shoulder to rouse her from her sleep. He could feel his heart pumping once more.
"Shit, shit! Kitty? Kitty, wake up!" Roland looked at the girl up and down. He couldn't spot any injuries, it seemed like she'd just banged her head. Most likely Alex ha- no, Robert, most likely Robert had attacked her.
"Kitty, you're alright now. Can you stand?"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Little Boy. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
[Mirror Mirror --> Steve]
A clean slate. That's what Steve was after at the fun fair. He didn't spend long considering how out of place the area seemed, and doubted Danya would've gone out of his way to find an island specifically with one, just for the sick humour of it. No, what he was spending more time worried about was who he'd actually run into there. Hopefully some nice people. Or at least, some normal people. Not window-smashing goths, or paranoid gun-wielding skaters, or stampedes of weirdos that start crying for no real reason.
It took him longer than planned to reach the fairground, though. He'd left the Hall of Mirrors late in the evening, meaning to find some shelter alone before nightfall, and start exploring by daylight. But overcome by fatigue and culture shock, and certainly not helped by the loss of blood from his arm, Steve managed to collapse halfway there, and awoke a few minutes after the end of Danya's first announcement. He didn't even realise it had been broadcast yet. He emerged from the small group of trees, and carried on South, estimating the time to be much earlier than it was, assuming nobody else would be active there, if they were awake.
Minutes later, he came upon the Fun Fair proper, and a few seconds after that, found himself just outside the very centre of the camp. He paused, hearing voices. A look around the corner told him that a small group had gathered. Two of them were hugging; a short girl and a relatively tall boy, a little shorter than himself, possibly equal, it was hard to tell from just the quick glance. He felt awkward, seeing that. Of course he was glad they'd found some solace in each other, as friends, lovers, or maybe just acquaintances? It didn't matter, they were in friendly company. Steve, on the other hand, glad as he was on their behalf, felt ever so slightly bitter at his own luck, having been given a weapon that couldn't even defend - let alone attack if he wanted to - and running into a long string of stupid and dangerous situations.
Maybe he'd have been better off coming out into the open. Maybe they would've been friendly. But he didn't think about it that way. Steve tried to rationalise it that he just didn't want to intrude, but in truth, he couldn't stand to see them, and in them, see how alone he himself was. So he hung back, waiting around the corner, hoping they'd just move on, or... something. The boy reached for the silver cross hanging from his neck. He didn't even know what he wanted.
A clean slate. That's what Steve was after at the fun fair. He didn't spend long considering how out of place the area seemed, and doubted Danya would've gone out of his way to find an island specifically with one, just for the sick humour of it. No, what he was spending more time worried about was who he'd actually run into there. Hopefully some nice people. Or at least, some normal people. Not window-smashing goths, or paranoid gun-wielding skaters, or stampedes of weirdos that start crying for no real reason.
It took him longer than planned to reach the fairground, though. He'd left the Hall of Mirrors late in the evening, meaning to find some shelter alone before nightfall, and start exploring by daylight. But overcome by fatigue and culture shock, and certainly not helped by the loss of blood from his arm, Steve managed to collapse halfway there, and awoke a few minutes after the end of Danya's first announcement. He didn't even realise it had been broadcast yet. He emerged from the small group of trees, and carried on South, estimating the time to be much earlier than it was, assuming nobody else would be active there, if they were awake.
Minutes later, he came upon the Fun Fair proper, and a few seconds after that, found himself just outside the very centre of the camp. He paused, hearing voices. A look around the corner told him that a small group had gathered. Two of them were hugging; a short girl and a relatively tall boy, a little shorter than himself, possibly equal, it was hard to tell from just the quick glance. He felt awkward, seeing that. Of course he was glad they'd found some solace in each other, as friends, lovers, or maybe just acquaintances? It didn't matter, they were in friendly company. Steve, on the other hand, glad as he was on their behalf, felt ever so slightly bitter at his own luck, having been given a weapon that couldn't even defend - let alone attack if he wanted to - and running into a long string of stupid and dangerous situations.
Maybe he'd have been better off coming out into the open. Maybe they would've been friendly. But he didn't think about it that way. Steve tried to rationalise it that he just didn't want to intrude, but in truth, he couldn't stand to see them, and in them, see how alone he himself was. So he hung back, waiting around the corner, hoping they'd just move on, or... something. The boy reached for the silver cross hanging from his neck. He didn't even know what he wanted.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Chib. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Whir. Whir. Whir.
The roar of the chainsaw continued for a lengthy period of time, until eventually it stopped.
What had happened?
Did... someone die?
Chase only had two close, actual experiences with death in her life before getting abducted. The first time she ever experienced death, she was nine years old. Her family had gone to a fair with a few close friends, and she enjoyed the rides, attractions, and games. She and one of her friends her age had played a game where they had to throw ping pong balls into a certain cup, and win goldfish. And so, the two children had gone home with a fish each. Chase tried her best to pamper her fish, always making sure to feed it each day and keep its tank clean. But after a few weeks since the fair, she had found the fish belly up and very much dead. And, of course she was devastated, especially when her mother explained to her that it had to be flushed down the toilet. Later that evening, her mother had taken the opportunity to tell her about death in a way a child of that age would understand and not be afraid. The second time she ever experienced death was when her father got sick with his heart condition. She could remember the phone call that her mother gave her to tell her about it very vividly. And since then, she often worried about her dad, often visiting him when he was in the hospital, helping him out when he needed it, and so on.
And so, Chase was not prepared for even just the sound of someone getting chainsawed to death just a small distance away from her.
She could hear someone approaching, and picking something up. The sounds had gone from feeling very distant to sounding like an elephant.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Wham! Something had been thrown at her, and landed straight on her back, rolling right off. It should have hurt, but her mind wasn't focused on the pain.
Someone noticed her, and threw something at her. That was not a good sign, at all. What if that someone was the guy with the chainsaw? What then? If there was any death she didn't want, it was death by chainsaw.
She couldn't think, though....
Everything was getting dark...
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Chase lifted her head at the sound. Was someone clapping? It sounded a bit too loud, though.
But, Chase got her answer. A voice- the same voice that had introduced her to this hell- started speaking. It told her, and presumeably everyone else still alive, that nineteen people were already dead.
Nineteen...
She put herself back up in a sitting position, and listened to what it said while placing her head in her hands. It started to list who died and who killed them, making fun of them all the while. One had apparently tried to remove his collar, one had gotten impaled on a fence, one had been burnt to death... it was very unsettling to know that her classmates really were dying.
And then the bastard told her that someone had went "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" on someone else.
Chase looked up at this. Someone really did die here. She didn't recognize the name of the victim (Robert Lerger, was it?), but the murderer was Alex Rasputin. She never knew him very well, but she couldn't have ever pictured anyone to be a chainsaw murderer. Sure, she often pictured her teachers and such as slasher villains, but those were daydreams she would think up during class. But, never would she have expected someone like this Russian monk fellow to be that kind of person.
The voice continued without a beat, describing a girl getting attacked with a saw, Amber Whimsy, the snoopy newshound, getting shot... oh god.
Chase put her head back into her hands again.
None of those people were ever particularly close to Chase. And yet, their deaths still impacted her. Each one of those people were those she had walked the halls of Bayview with and shared classes with. She could remember Amber trying to get dirt on each and every student. She could remember Ivan something-or-other, one of the apparent killers, being the captain of the tennis team. She could remember Reiko Ishida having a little fanclub or something, and how Sally Connelly was known for having a rivalry with her.
All these people she knew or heard about, either being killed or becoming murderers.
It chilled Chase right to the bone.
And so, the voice ended, saying that it will see the ones still remaining in 24 hours.
So that was that.
Nineteen people killed. And some of her classmates had turned into cold blooded killers.
But, at least Chase herself was still alive. And she didn't hear about any of her close friends getting killed...
Oh what the hell.
Even if she didn't know any one of those people personally, their deaths were extremely upsetting to hear.
As she started to shake again, she lifted her head out of her hands, and saw what had landed on her earlier. That was a bag? Her hands moved to it, feeling it. She needed supplies, right? Taking a deep breath, she searched for the zipper, and once she found it unzipped it, praying to god whoever had it didn't mind that she was looking through it.
Her things that she had brought on the trip were inside. It was extremely blurry, but she could tell.
Yes! Her things! Which meant that her glasses were in there!
A bit of searching (which was difficult with her nearsightedness), and Chase could feel the shape of her glasses case. Lifting it out, she smiled and opened it. She swore to god a heavenly choir was playing right now. Chase took the glasses out and placed them on her face, granting her the ability to see clearly once more. Oh god, these things were never getting off her face ever again! A quick look at the bag, and it was confirmed it was hers. Chase put the now-empty glasses case back, and zipped it back up.
So, now what?
The announcement made it clear. Either she was going to have to kill her classmates, or she herself would be killed. And neither sounded very pleasant. It was probably a good idea to get out of here, since she wasn't sure if the Russian monk fellow was still around, chainsaw and all. She looked over the side of the stall, and saw the "tower" she was looking at earlier. Yup, that was indeed a carnival she was at, judging by the ferris wheel. It wasn't so implausible after all, it seemed.
A quick look to one side.
A quick look to the other.
Pause.
She couldn't focus on anything else once she saw it. Heck, a pink elephant could have danced right at the top of the ferris wheel and she wouldn't have noticed. But, once she did, she quickly slid back down with a squeak.
When she heard the sounds of the chainsaw and the announcement some time after, she had assumed that it would be at worst someone getting their limbs sliced off one by one. But, it was worse, much worse.
Even though the sight disturbed her, she had to look again.
His torso was bloodied, and seemingly torn apart. What appeared to be various organs were shattered around him, climbing out of him like some sort of wild animal that had been living inside him. His eyes... so cold and lifeless, as if he had been in pain when he died. She could see the eyes, seemingly looking straight at her. Chase slid down once more, feeling a little ill, which wasn't helped by the fact that she was hungry and somewhat dehydrated. Oh god, this Russian monk bastard was sick. She placed her hand to her mouth, hoping she wouldn't throw up. Even as she wasn't looking at it, it stayed in her mind like it had been imprinted there. Oh god, why would someone do such a thing?
Out of here. She needed out now.
Chase quickly placed the strap of her bag over her shoulder, and lifted herself out of the stall. Everything seemed to be on autopilot, and soon, she was running away, out to the exit and not paying attention to anything else.
DeadchainsaworgansdeadRasputinRobertfuckfuckfuck!, her mind screamed as she ran.
Taptaptaptaptaptataptaptaptaptaptap.
((Anna Chase continued in So What Do We Do Now?))
The roar of the chainsaw continued for a lengthy period of time, until eventually it stopped.
What had happened?
Did... someone die?
Chase only had two close, actual experiences with death in her life before getting abducted. The first time she ever experienced death, she was nine years old. Her family had gone to a fair with a few close friends, and she enjoyed the rides, attractions, and games. She and one of her friends her age had played a game where they had to throw ping pong balls into a certain cup, and win goldfish. And so, the two children had gone home with a fish each. Chase tried her best to pamper her fish, always making sure to feed it each day and keep its tank clean. But after a few weeks since the fair, she had found the fish belly up and very much dead. And, of course she was devastated, especially when her mother explained to her that it had to be flushed down the toilet. Later that evening, her mother had taken the opportunity to tell her about death in a way a child of that age would understand and not be afraid. The second time she ever experienced death was when her father got sick with his heart condition. She could remember the phone call that her mother gave her to tell her about it very vividly. And since then, she often worried about her dad, often visiting him when he was in the hospital, helping him out when he needed it, and so on.
And so, Chase was not prepared for even just the sound of someone getting chainsawed to death just a small distance away from her.
She could hear someone approaching, and picking something up. The sounds had gone from feeling very distant to sounding like an elephant.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Wham! Something had been thrown at her, and landed straight on her back, rolling right off. It should have hurt, but her mind wasn't focused on the pain.
Someone noticed her, and threw something at her. That was not a good sign, at all. What if that someone was the guy with the chainsaw? What then? If there was any death she didn't want, it was death by chainsaw.
She couldn't think, though....
Everything was getting dark...
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Chase lifted her head at the sound. Was someone clapping? It sounded a bit too loud, though.
But, Chase got her answer. A voice- the same voice that had introduced her to this hell- started speaking. It told her, and presumeably everyone else still alive, that nineteen people were already dead.
Nineteen...
She put herself back up in a sitting position, and listened to what it said while placing her head in her hands. It started to list who died and who killed them, making fun of them all the while. One had apparently tried to remove his collar, one had gotten impaled on a fence, one had been burnt to death... it was very unsettling to know that her classmates really were dying.
And then the bastard told her that someone had went "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" on someone else.
Chase looked up at this. Someone really did die here. She didn't recognize the name of the victim (Robert Lerger, was it?), but the murderer was Alex Rasputin. She never knew him very well, but she couldn't have ever pictured anyone to be a chainsaw murderer. Sure, she often pictured her teachers and such as slasher villains, but those were daydreams she would think up during class. But, never would she have expected someone like this Russian monk fellow to be that kind of person.
The voice continued without a beat, describing a girl getting attacked with a saw, Amber Whimsy, the snoopy newshound, getting shot... oh god.
Chase put her head back into her hands again.
None of those people were ever particularly close to Chase. And yet, their deaths still impacted her. Each one of those people were those she had walked the halls of Bayview with and shared classes with. She could remember Amber trying to get dirt on each and every student. She could remember Ivan something-or-other, one of the apparent killers, being the captain of the tennis team. She could remember Reiko Ishida having a little fanclub or something, and how Sally Connelly was known for having a rivalry with her.
All these people she knew or heard about, either being killed or becoming murderers.
It chilled Chase right to the bone.
And so, the voice ended, saying that it will see the ones still remaining in 24 hours.
So that was that.
Nineteen people killed. And some of her classmates had turned into cold blooded killers.
But, at least Chase herself was still alive. And she didn't hear about any of her close friends getting killed...
Oh what the hell.
Even if she didn't know any one of those people personally, their deaths were extremely upsetting to hear.
As she started to shake again, she lifted her head out of her hands, and saw what had landed on her earlier. That was a bag? Her hands moved to it, feeling it. She needed supplies, right? Taking a deep breath, she searched for the zipper, and once she found it unzipped it, praying to god whoever had it didn't mind that she was looking through it.
Her things that she had brought on the trip were inside. It was extremely blurry, but she could tell.
Yes! Her things! Which meant that her glasses were in there!
A bit of searching (which was difficult with her nearsightedness), and Chase could feel the shape of her glasses case. Lifting it out, she smiled and opened it. She swore to god a heavenly choir was playing right now. Chase took the glasses out and placed them on her face, granting her the ability to see clearly once more. Oh god, these things were never getting off her face ever again! A quick look at the bag, and it was confirmed it was hers. Chase put the now-empty glasses case back, and zipped it back up.
So, now what?
The announcement made it clear. Either she was going to have to kill her classmates, or she herself would be killed. And neither sounded very pleasant. It was probably a good idea to get out of here, since she wasn't sure if the Russian monk fellow was still around, chainsaw and all. She looked over the side of the stall, and saw the "tower" she was looking at earlier. Yup, that was indeed a carnival she was at, judging by the ferris wheel. It wasn't so implausible after all, it seemed.
A quick look to one side.
A quick look to the other.
Pause.
She couldn't focus on anything else once she saw it. Heck, a pink elephant could have danced right at the top of the ferris wheel and she wouldn't have noticed. But, once she did, she quickly slid back down with a squeak.
When she heard the sounds of the chainsaw and the announcement some time after, she had assumed that it would be at worst someone getting their limbs sliced off one by one. But, it was worse, much worse.
Even though the sight disturbed her, she had to look again.
His torso was bloodied, and seemingly torn apart. What appeared to be various organs were shattered around him, climbing out of him like some sort of wild animal that had been living inside him. His eyes... so cold and lifeless, as if he had been in pain when he died. She could see the eyes, seemingly looking straight at her. Chase slid down once more, feeling a little ill, which wasn't helped by the fact that she was hungry and somewhat dehydrated. Oh god, this Russian monk bastard was sick. She placed her hand to her mouth, hoping she wouldn't throw up. Even as she wasn't looking at it, it stayed in her mind like it had been imprinted there. Oh god, why would someone do such a thing?
Out of here. She needed out now.
Chase quickly placed the strap of her bag over her shoulder, and lifted herself out of the stall. Everything seemed to be on autopilot, and soon, she was running away, out to the exit and not paying attention to anything else.
DeadchainsaworgansdeadRasputinRobertfuckfuckfuck!, her mind screamed as she ran.
Taptaptaptaptaptataptaptaptaptaptap.
((Anna Chase continued in So What Do We Do Now?))
((Charlene continued from White Knight Nightmare))
Charlene had been slightly reluctant to be in front, but there she was. It was mainly due to a risk of repeating what had just happened to her before the announcement and taking more bullets (although when Jonathan shot her, she had severely lucked out due to Jon's bad aim and Alex's timely intervention). It was only because she didn't want to lose ownership of her gun, the only thing she had to defend herself with, that she agreed to walk a few feet in front of Alex and Hayley.
Next time an announcement comes, I better start leaving. This was, while a decent idea in some cases, self-advice she was likely to forget when she would actually have to call on it. She just looked around as the loud noise died down (that of the chainsaw originally issued to the now deceased Robert Lerger) as she walked towards the now ironically named "Fun Fair." The announcement was still echoing itself through her head, the name of one person continually coming back up.
Ivan Kuznetsov
Captain of the boys' tennis team. While Charlene hadn't ever been on exactly friendly terms with the guy, she didn't have any problems with him either. It wasn't the news of his death that got to her (although to be fair, he wasn't dead to start with), but the news of his kill. Was he really a stone-cold killer (the answer was no, but still, the question had come up in her head repeatedly). It was a question permeating her thoughts even more than the fact that she was starting to look a little messed up, what with having not done her hair or taken a shower or the fact that her left pant leg was only half there. Those thought were rationalized away by that little voice in her head she always forgot to follow - that of common sense.
It's not like you have much of a choice right now. Your looks can wait. Focus on not dying right now. She squeezed her eyes shut again as she drank the last of the water from the bottle she was holding in her left hand. There would probably be a little more in there, but a lot of it was used to lean Charlene's now dressed leg wound, which was still bothering her slightly as she walked - the formerly white hot pain was now at merely a dull roar, and would probably remain so as long as nobody touched it.
"Someone could be hurt over there." Charlene turned around at Alex's statement. The sound of a chainsaw was not one that was normally comforting to others.
"Yeah, or there could be a fight going on and you, mister I-got-shot-in-the-motherfucking-arm, need to not charge suicidally into things and in fact need to sit the fuck down and rest for a while, alright? Let's stay here for now. It seems to be pretty empty, if there's anyone over there they won't see us here, and if anyone shows up I'll get rid of 'em. Easy peasy. We're good. Now, I'm super hungry, so-" Hayley lowered herself and Alex to the ground as Charlene looked around. She didn't see anybody running around with a chainsaw (of course that meant nothing: she didn't see any of her 19 classmates die).
"Hayley?" Charlene turned her head to the source of the voice. It was some guy wearing glasses. another member of the Bayview Secondary senior class (duh), but other than that, she knew nothing about him.
"...K...Kyle?!" Hayley got up and ran towards the new guy. Charlene looked at the new arrival - about her height, pretty muscular, his face needed some work, but otherwise he was kinda cute. She almost tightened her grip on the gun in her right hand, but when Hayley and Kyle started hugging, she didn't tighten it, but it didn't loosen, either (It was a god thing she didn't see the gurka knife in Kyle's pocket - while Kyle wasn't planning on using it, it would have definitely made her slightly more suspicious of his motives).
Ugh. So sappy ... At that time, she wasn't really thinking about what would have happened if it was Thea or Acacia that had come on, instead of Kyle - it would have been the exact same thing, with Hayley or Madelyn possibly snorting at the fact. She did, however, resist the urge to snort in derision, noting that it would probably ruin their lovely reunion. Instead, she walked over to Alex, asking him one question as she crouched down.
"Do you know him?" she asked, motioning to Kyle. "Just wondering ..." While one might be suspicious at the question, in Charlene's case, the question was completely innocent - she actually didn't know Kyle - aside from his name of course, and didn't want to make this situation awkward (well, she didn't want to make it more awkward than it already was - being trapped in a death game made things awkward enough).
Charlene had been slightly reluctant to be in front, but there she was. It was mainly due to a risk of repeating what had just happened to her before the announcement and taking more bullets (although when Jonathan shot her, she had severely lucked out due to Jon's bad aim and Alex's timely intervention). It was only because she didn't want to lose ownership of her gun, the only thing she had to defend herself with, that she agreed to walk a few feet in front of Alex and Hayley.
Next time an announcement comes, I better start leaving. This was, while a decent idea in some cases, self-advice she was likely to forget when she would actually have to call on it. She just looked around as the loud noise died down (that of the chainsaw originally issued to the now deceased Robert Lerger) as she walked towards the now ironically named "Fun Fair." The announcement was still echoing itself through her head, the name of one person continually coming back up.
Ivan Kuznetsov
Captain of the boys' tennis team. While Charlene hadn't ever been on exactly friendly terms with the guy, she didn't have any problems with him either. It wasn't the news of his death that got to her (although to be fair, he wasn't dead to start with), but the news of his kill. Was he really a stone-cold killer (the answer was no, but still, the question had come up in her head repeatedly). It was a question permeating her thoughts even more than the fact that she was starting to look a little messed up, what with having not done her hair or taken a shower or the fact that her left pant leg was only half there. Those thought were rationalized away by that little voice in her head she always forgot to follow - that of common sense.
It's not like you have much of a choice right now. Your looks can wait. Focus on not dying right now. She squeezed her eyes shut again as she drank the last of the water from the bottle she was holding in her left hand. There would probably be a little more in there, but a lot of it was used to lean Charlene's now dressed leg wound, which was still bothering her slightly as she walked - the formerly white hot pain was now at merely a dull roar, and would probably remain so as long as nobody touched it.
"Someone could be hurt over there." Charlene turned around at Alex's statement. The sound of a chainsaw was not one that was normally comforting to others.
"Yeah, or there could be a fight going on and you, mister I-got-shot-in-the-motherfucking-arm, need to not charge suicidally into things and in fact need to sit the fuck down and rest for a while, alright? Let's stay here for now. It seems to be pretty empty, if there's anyone over there they won't see us here, and if anyone shows up I'll get rid of 'em. Easy peasy. We're good. Now, I'm super hungry, so-" Hayley lowered herself and Alex to the ground as Charlene looked around. She didn't see anybody running around with a chainsaw (of course that meant nothing: she didn't see any of her 19 classmates die).
"Hayley?" Charlene turned her head to the source of the voice. It was some guy wearing glasses. another member of the Bayview Secondary senior class (duh), but other than that, she knew nothing about him.
"...K...Kyle?!" Hayley got up and ran towards the new guy. Charlene looked at the new arrival - about her height, pretty muscular, his face needed some work, but otherwise he was kinda cute. She almost tightened her grip on the gun in her right hand, but when Hayley and Kyle started hugging, she didn't tighten it, but it didn't loosen, either (It was a god thing she didn't see the gurka knife in Kyle's pocket - while Kyle wasn't planning on using it, it would have definitely made her slightly more suspicious of his motives).
Ugh. So sappy ... At that time, she wasn't really thinking about what would have happened if it was Thea or Acacia that had come on, instead of Kyle - it would have been the exact same thing, with Hayley or Madelyn possibly snorting at the fact. She did, however, resist the urge to snort in derision, noting that it would probably ruin their lovely reunion. Instead, she walked over to Alex, asking him one question as she crouched down.
"Do you know him?" she asked, motioning to Kyle. "Just wondering ..." While one might be suspicious at the question, in Charlene's case, the question was completely innocent - she actually didn't know Kyle - aside from his name of course, and didn't want to make this situation awkward (well, she didn't want to make it more awkward than it already was - being trapped in a death game made things awkward enough).
Survivor: UCONN - Seriously, it's awesome!
Version 8
Kaede Tsurumi: "Eeep! I-I'm so sorry! I-I'll try not to get in your w-way next time!"
Morgan Whitney
Tyler Slomkowski
Victor Grail: "I didn't give you the lead so that you could lose it! I guess it's up to me to carry us after all."
Version 8
Kaede Tsurumi: "Eeep! I-I'm so sorry! I-I'll try not to get in your w-way next time!"
Morgan Whitney
Tyler Slomkowski
Victor Grail: "I didn't give you the lead so that you could lose it! I guess it's up to me to carry us after all."
Kitty was aware of a voice, but she paid little attention at first. Locks of aqua blocked her vision, and what she could see was a wooden board that used to be the table.
She couldn't remember when she started dying her hair. At that moment she couldn't remember much of anything. Perhaps it was the time like all teenagers where they felt like they had to stand out. Blue hair stuck out, didn't it? Kitty was only trying to be unique. However, with how her hair seemed to pool around her eyes, she wished that she had cut it all off. Rather go bald than to have it covering her eyes.
She opened her eyes, which was a struggle in of itself. She blew the hair out of her eyes with a weak sigh, which just helped slightly. She turned her head. Roland was hovering over her. She vaguely knew him. Vaguely.
Oh how she would answer that question. If she could, she would scream.
"No, of course I'm not fine! Some fucking hit me with a baseball bat! What is wrong with you?"
Of course, she was still very dizzy. So screaming like that would be next to impossible. She just whimpered.
"... No..."
There was another voice booming in Kitty's ear but she found it difficult to focus on it and Roland at the same time. The drain in her mind was unplugged, everything was mixing together and for the life of her she couldn't piece anything together. All a blur. Sound, silence. Sight, darkness. Lost at sea. Drowning. Dying.
Speaking was like pulling teeth. Kitty knew what she wanted to say. She wanted to curse, scream, complain, bitch. However there was a huge difference between thinking of what to say and actually saying it.
"O-Oww..."
Kitty managed to roll on her back again, holding her shoulder tightly. Everything was spinning again. She registered the question Roland had asked. Could she get up? She tried to, failed. Like a damn turtle. She flailed for a moment and just stopped.
"Can't... help..."
She coughed, wincing violently. Kitty turned her head away.
She couldn't remember when she started dying her hair. At that moment she couldn't remember much of anything. Perhaps it was the time like all teenagers where they felt like they had to stand out. Blue hair stuck out, didn't it? Kitty was only trying to be unique. However, with how her hair seemed to pool around her eyes, she wished that she had cut it all off. Rather go bald than to have it covering her eyes.
She opened her eyes, which was a struggle in of itself. She blew the hair out of her eyes with a weak sigh, which just helped slightly. She turned her head. Roland was hovering over her. She vaguely knew him. Vaguely.
Oh how she would answer that question. If she could, she would scream.
"No, of course I'm not fine! Some fucking hit me with a baseball bat! What is wrong with you?"
Of course, she was still very dizzy. So screaming like that would be next to impossible. She just whimpered.
"... No..."
There was another voice booming in Kitty's ear but she found it difficult to focus on it and Roland at the same time. The drain in her mind was unplugged, everything was mixing together and for the life of her she couldn't piece anything together. All a blur. Sound, silence. Sight, darkness. Lost at sea. Drowning. Dying.
Speaking was like pulling teeth. Kitty knew what she wanted to say. She wanted to curse, scream, complain, bitch. However there was a huge difference between thinking of what to say and actually saying it.
"O-Oww..."
Kitty managed to roll on her back again, holding her shoulder tightly. Everything was spinning again. She registered the question Roland had asked. Could she get up? She tried to, failed. Like a damn turtle. She flailed for a moment and just stopped.
"Can't... help..."
She coughed, wincing violently. Kitty turned her head away.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Ciel. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
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armeggedonCounselor†
- Posts: 190
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:24 am
((Breaking Post Order in order to move the death happening in here along.))
Kyle was hit by 102 lbs of the person he wanted to see the most. He stepped back to avoid falling over, wrapping his arms tight around her. She was safe. She was alive. She... smelled of sweat and blood, but that was alright. More importantly, she was here. His knees felt weak from relief. She said that she had been so worried. Kyle nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He didn't know how long he clung to Hayley, barely able to keep from weeping in relief. Finally, when he felt composed, he released her and stepped back slightly, sliding his hands to hers.
"Hayley.... Thank God you're alright...," he said, smiling with relief and then freezing. Was she alright? He couldn't tell. She had blood on her, but she didn't seem to be in pain. "Y-you are alright, right?" he asked, squeezing her hands a little too tight. He realized that he had squeezed too tight almost instantly, and quickly let go of her hands and looked away.
"Sorry.... I'm... I'm having a little trouble.... They took my medicine, and I threw up when I woke up, so... yeah. My OCD is acting up...," he said, laughing slightly at the end of the sentence. He looked back at Hayley, and managed a slight smile.
Kyle was hit by 102 lbs of the person he wanted to see the most. He stepped back to avoid falling over, wrapping his arms tight around her. She was safe. She was alive. She... smelled of sweat and blood, but that was alright. More importantly, she was here. His knees felt weak from relief. She said that she had been so worried. Kyle nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He didn't know how long he clung to Hayley, barely able to keep from weeping in relief. Finally, when he felt composed, he released her and stepped back slightly, sliding his hands to hers.
"Hayley.... Thank God you're alright...," he said, smiling with relief and then freezing. Was she alright? He couldn't tell. She had blood on her, but she didn't seem to be in pain. "Y-you are alright, right?" he asked, squeezing her hands a little too tight. He realized that he had squeezed too tight almost instantly, and quickly let go of her hands and looked away.
"Sorry.... I'm... I'm having a little trouble.... They took my medicine, and I threw up when I woke up, so... yeah. My OCD is acting up...," he said, laughing slightly at the end of the sentence. He looked back at Hayley, and managed a slight smile.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler armeggedonCounselor. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
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Hollyquin†
- Posts: 332
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:24 am
[[Yeah, for the purposes of getting this death done, some post order breakage is gonna happen here. It shouldn't take too long, so no worries!]]
Hayley didn't want to let go. Her arms had spent so much time today swinging uselessly at her sides, one hand clutching the grip of that stupid sword that had done exactly shit-all to protect Alex before. Now they'd found themselves a purpose, something to do that actually felt right, and it wasn't something she wanted to stop doing. After all, as long as she was holding Kyle, they'd both be safe, right? That was how this worked, wasn't it? Conflicts usually started not long after the lead couple broke from their embrace. Not that we're the main characters or anything. Wonder who is.
She ignored that thought. Kyle was letting go. Reluctantly, so reluctantly, she released her grip.
"Hayley.... Thank God you're alright...Y-you are alright, right?"
He sounded so worried. She couldn't help but smile in response to that. Just that, with all the bullshit going on on the island, with people fucking dying, he was worried about her and he's still talking to me even though I'm all bloody and gross...she took comfort in the feel of his hands in hers, and was almost disappointed when he let go, however tightly he'd been squeezing.
"I'm fine. Honest. There was this guy with us a while ago, Jonathon...Charlene over there-" she motioned towards Charlene- "she said something about some girl he knew and he freaked out and shot at her. Alex did that whole heroic-maneuver thing, as he is wont to do, so now they're both hurt. Alex is worse, I was trying to, like, bandage his wounds and crap, that's why I'm all bloody. I'm totally fine, a little, hungry, but, you know. " She laughed lightly, scratching her head as a nervous reflex. Having let go of Kyle, her anxiety was returning. She looked back up at that smoke cloud Alex had first noticed.
Someone's gotta be over there. Or someone was over there. Or something. I don't know. Something...happened.
Suddenly Hayley wished she hadn't dropped her sword. She gave it a glance. It would be there if she needed it. When she needed it.
She shut her eyes for a moment to calm herself again, and opened them again not feeling at all reassured.
"Sorry.... I'm... I'm having a little trouble.... They took my medicine, and I threw up when I woke up, so... yeah. My OCD is acting up..."
Hayley blinked- for a moment she was too distracted, by that smoke, by her own nerves, to have a real answer- but after a momentary pause and another look back at her weapon, reminding herself it was still there, she turned back to Kyle. His smile made her more on edge, if anything, considering what he'd just said...
"That's...not good. Are you gonna be okay? You'd better be, I only just found you..." Her tone was teasing, but there was something sad in her eyes that suggested something more behind that statement.
I only just found you. Please, please, please, do anything but leave me now.
She looked back at the smoke cloud again. It seemed to be dissipating. She wondered what it had come from, since she didn't see any fire...was there some kind of explosion? Or maybe it was like a smoke bomb or something. Seems like the kind of weapon they'd give someone. She pondered it for a moment, until something other caught her eye.
Something-
something-
somethingsomethingsomethingsomething
red.
Hayley stumbled backwards, eyes wide. She'd heard the announcements, of course. She knew what happened. She knew people were dead. She knew people were playing, killing, fighting for their lives, she knew that this was really happening and she knew that the streets would soon be paved with blood (had there been any streets on this godforsaken island).
This was not something she wished to actually see, however.
She shook her head, over and over, trying to rid her mind of the image, of the eviscerated body- Hayley prided herself on her inability to be shocked, on her ability to see all the horrors of the world and laugh, but seeing those things online and seeing them in person were universes apart. Is this...is this shit unavoidable? Are we all gonna end up with our...fucking...guts lying around on the floor? She knew she wasn't actually going to throw up, but she was going to come pretty close. Her thoughts turned towards her companions. Kyle. Alex. Maddy. She thought about their bodies at the bottom of the hill, blood spilt everywhere, she thought about seeing them so disturbingly red and-
This...
This shit's getting a bit too real.
She shook her head. One more time. She closed her eyes.
Not gonna happen. I won't let it happen. Ever. I...refuse.
Fuck you, Danya. Fuck you. I'll play your stupid fucking game, but only to keep my friends alive.
That's the only reason.
I'm not a bad person. I'm not. I just-
Hayley became vaguely aware that she was shaking. Violently. She took a few more steps backward- never turning away from Kyle- and picked her sword up off the floor. She instantly felt...not safer, but certainly stronger.
"I..."
She was speaking to Kyle. She was speaking to herself.
"I-I'm okay. I'm okay. I just. I can't. I-I can't-"
I can't let this happen to you. I can't let this happen to any of you. She couldn't spit the words out.
...What if whoever did this is still here?
Hayley froze. That was a new thought, and a terrifying one. Clearly whoever had done this had a powerful weapon, not to mention a willingness to use it. Whoever this was could probably kill her, and Alex, and Maddy, and Kyle- does he have a weapon? I should ask...make sure...- and-
No. Can't allow it. Won't allow it. Nonono-
Sound.
...Sound?
She'd heard something. What it was, she was never to know- perhaps a broken tree branch, perhaps a footstep, it was irrelevant. Whatever the sound was, it caused her to sharply turn to her left.
She saw a shadow. It could have been anything. Anything at all. It was a person. Hayley was absolutely sure.
Any sane person would have questioned that, but some moments are more sane than others, and this ranked low on Hayley's list.
...What if whoever did this is still here?
Hayley walked towards the shadow. There was only one way to really solve this, after all.
"You!" she shouted. "I can see you! Get the fuck out of here if you don't want to have your fucking head cut off! I'm not in the mood to deal with this murderer bullshit! I've had a long FUCKING night and anyone who tries fucking with me or my friends right now is gonna regret it so fucking hard, so DON'T. FUCKING. TEST ME."
I need a cigarette. Or three.
Hayley didn't want to let go. Her arms had spent so much time today swinging uselessly at her sides, one hand clutching the grip of that stupid sword that had done exactly shit-all to protect Alex before. Now they'd found themselves a purpose, something to do that actually felt right, and it wasn't something she wanted to stop doing. After all, as long as she was holding Kyle, they'd both be safe, right? That was how this worked, wasn't it? Conflicts usually started not long after the lead couple broke from their embrace. Not that we're the main characters or anything. Wonder who is.
She ignored that thought. Kyle was letting go. Reluctantly, so reluctantly, she released her grip.
"Hayley.... Thank God you're alright...Y-you are alright, right?"
He sounded so worried. She couldn't help but smile in response to that. Just that, with all the bullshit going on on the island, with people fucking dying, he was worried about her and he's still talking to me even though I'm all bloody and gross...she took comfort in the feel of his hands in hers, and was almost disappointed when he let go, however tightly he'd been squeezing.
"I'm fine. Honest. There was this guy with us a while ago, Jonathon...Charlene over there-" she motioned towards Charlene- "she said something about some girl he knew and he freaked out and shot at her. Alex did that whole heroic-maneuver thing, as he is wont to do, so now they're both hurt. Alex is worse, I was trying to, like, bandage his wounds and crap, that's why I'm all bloody. I'm totally fine, a little, hungry, but, you know. " She laughed lightly, scratching her head as a nervous reflex. Having let go of Kyle, her anxiety was returning. She looked back up at that smoke cloud Alex had first noticed.
Someone's gotta be over there. Or someone was over there. Or something. I don't know. Something...happened.
Suddenly Hayley wished she hadn't dropped her sword. She gave it a glance. It would be there if she needed it. When she needed it.
She shut her eyes for a moment to calm herself again, and opened them again not feeling at all reassured.
"Sorry.... I'm... I'm having a little trouble.... They took my medicine, and I threw up when I woke up, so... yeah. My OCD is acting up..."
Hayley blinked- for a moment she was too distracted, by that smoke, by her own nerves, to have a real answer- but after a momentary pause and another look back at her weapon, reminding herself it was still there, she turned back to Kyle. His smile made her more on edge, if anything, considering what he'd just said...
"That's...not good. Are you gonna be okay? You'd better be, I only just found you..." Her tone was teasing, but there was something sad in her eyes that suggested something more behind that statement.
I only just found you. Please, please, please, do anything but leave me now.
She looked back at the smoke cloud again. It seemed to be dissipating. She wondered what it had come from, since she didn't see any fire...was there some kind of explosion? Or maybe it was like a smoke bomb or something. Seems like the kind of weapon they'd give someone. She pondered it for a moment, until something other caught her eye.
Something-
something-
somethingsomethingsomethingsomething
red.
Hayley stumbled backwards, eyes wide. She'd heard the announcements, of course. She knew what happened. She knew people were dead. She knew people were playing, killing, fighting for their lives, she knew that this was really happening and she knew that the streets would soon be paved with blood (had there been any streets on this godforsaken island).
This was not something she wished to actually see, however.
She shook her head, over and over, trying to rid her mind of the image, of the eviscerated body- Hayley prided herself on her inability to be shocked, on her ability to see all the horrors of the world and laugh, but seeing those things online and seeing them in person were universes apart. Is this...is this shit unavoidable? Are we all gonna end up with our...fucking...guts lying around on the floor? She knew she wasn't actually going to throw up, but she was going to come pretty close. Her thoughts turned towards her companions. Kyle. Alex. Maddy. She thought about their bodies at the bottom of the hill, blood spilt everywhere, she thought about seeing them so disturbingly red and-
This...
This shit's getting a bit too real.
She shook her head. One more time. She closed her eyes.
Not gonna happen. I won't let it happen. Ever. I...refuse.
Fuck you, Danya. Fuck you. I'll play your stupid fucking game, but only to keep my friends alive.
That's the only reason.
I'm not a bad person. I'm not. I just-
Hayley became vaguely aware that she was shaking. Violently. She took a few more steps backward- never turning away from Kyle- and picked her sword up off the floor. She instantly felt...not safer, but certainly stronger.
"I..."
She was speaking to Kyle. She was speaking to herself.
"I-I'm okay. I'm okay. I just. I can't. I-I can't-"
I can't let this happen to you. I can't let this happen to any of you. She couldn't spit the words out.
...What if whoever did this is still here?
Hayley froze. That was a new thought, and a terrifying one. Clearly whoever had done this had a powerful weapon, not to mention a willingness to use it. Whoever this was could probably kill her, and Alex, and Maddy, and Kyle- does he have a weapon? I should ask...make sure...- and-
No. Can't allow it. Won't allow it. Nonono-
Sound.
...Sound?
She'd heard something. What it was, she was never to know- perhaps a broken tree branch, perhaps a footstep, it was irrelevant. Whatever the sound was, it caused her to sharply turn to her left.
She saw a shadow. It could have been anything. Anything at all. It was a person. Hayley was absolutely sure.
Any sane person would have questioned that, but some moments are more sane than others, and this ranked low on Hayley's list.
...What if whoever did this is still here?
Hayley walked towards the shadow. There was only one way to really solve this, after all.
"You!" she shouted. "I can see you! Get the fuck out of here if you don't want to have your fucking head cut off! I'm not in the mood to deal with this murderer bullshit! I've had a long FUCKING night and anyone who tries fucking with me or my friends right now is gonna regret it so fucking hard, so DON'T. FUCKING. TEST ME."
I need a cigarette. Or three.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Hollyquin. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
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Little Boy†
- Posts: 256
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 4:47 am
(Godmod approved)
Roland winced at Kitty's pained reply. The situation did not look good. Roland glanced around the fair, it was getting dark and he could see no one nearby.
Even if there was someone, could they be trusted to help?
Roland propped the girl up slowly, careful not to hurt her anymore than she already was. Roland didn't see any severe injuries, but he wasn't exactly a first rate doctor, caution was the best course of action.
"Don't worry Kitty. I'm Roland. You remember me, right? You're in good hands, you'll be just fine."
Suddenly somewhere nearby a speaker crackled, and Roland jerked his head up. He scanned the area, looking for the source of the noise. He couldn't exactly pinpoint where it was, but it was coming through crystal clear. He cursed as a voice began to speak, an all too familiar voice. Memories of the room, his teachers cries of pain, filled Roland's mind. He gritted his teeth.
Danya. Well you fat fuck, what do you have to say?
Roland couldn't waste any time, even to listen to an announcement. There was no telling who was out there, who was already on the move. Roland began to pull Kitty up, cautiously.
"You're going to be fine. We need to get out of here, so we can check out your wounds.."
The girl was mumbling, barely able to get a full thought out. That was worrying. Roland began to move across the way, supporting Kitty on his right shoulder to where he had dropped his weapon. As he bent to pick up Charlene, still smeared with Roberts' blood, his ears pricked up. The announcement, Danya was listing the dead. A chill ran through Roland as he awkwardly shoved his sword through a loop on his belt.
Robert wasn't the first... he won't be the last. Who's already gone..? No Roland, wrong question. Who are the killers..?
Roland continued on his way, all the while supporting Kitty on his shoulder. He couldn't exactly tell what the girl was saying, not that he was listening in the first place. This announcement was much more... interesting.
Omar. Omar... wasn't he dating a girl, Sierra? Yes. Killer. Watch for him. Ale-
Roland froze. He looked back towards the tattered remains of Robert Lerger, a boy he had once known. He bit down on his lip, hard. He could taste blood in his mouth.
Alex Rasputin, killer of Eric Lorenz, Robert Lerger. Alex, next time we meet, I think we're going to have to have a little chat. And rest assured, we will meet.
He spat on the ground, blood dripping from his cut lip. That wasn't smart.
Stupid Roland, stupid! What good is this going to do you? You aren't cut out for this, your fucking 'team' has ditched on you, and you might have just killed an innocent...
He shut his eyes, breathing deep through his nose. He could feel his pulse quickening, his entire body seemingly heating up. A low growl escaped from his throat.
Control Roland, control. There will be time for evaluation... You can't lose it. You can stomach this sick game.
Focus, who else? Kris, that weird skateboarder. Kill on sight. Clio, ...Clio? Who the fuck is Clio? Shit.. Need to learn who she is. Better yet, learn to avoid her. The other twin, the other Ishida. Two..? She's murdered two people? Kill on sight. What else? Molotovs. Someone has a fucking Molotov. Fuck, how am I supposed to go up against someone with a Molotov?
...They have a FUCKING BEAR? Jesus Christ, how are we supposed to fight a bear? Need to get out of this fair. Need to get to higher ground, or some sort of building... Ivan. Russian kid, the Tennis Kid. He's a killer. Rob...? What the hell? Resident Nazi? Is he bullshitting? Rob isn't a Nazi.. But really, how well do I know Rob? Not fucking well... Oh fuck. Kronwall, Staffan's out. If he broke this fast, shit, what chance do I have on finding anyone else? Colin and Jackie, last two killers. Don't know them well.. I guess I never really would have known any of them well. Avoid, kill if unavoidable. Kill...
He looked back towards the body laying on the ground. He paused, slowly lowering Kitty down to the pavement.
"One second..."
"It has nothing to do with sins. You are right that there is no winner, but not in the way you think. There are only losers. We are all losers."
Roland flinched remember Isabel's words. No winners. Only losers. Alex, Roland... Robert. Was he a hypocrite? Had he been right? Doubt filled his mind once more. Roland began to walk, slowly at first but with growing speed towards the corpse.
The announcement said Alex killed Robert. Not true. I stabbed him, I'm as guilty as Alex. If I run away, I'm no better than he was. I can't go back and change what I've done.. but I can change what I may become.
Standing over the boys corpse, Roland looked down into his empty eyes. The blood had long since stopped flowing from the gaping wound in the boy, but the stench was only growing stronger with every passing minute. Roland hesitated before bending down and gripping the legs of Robert. With a yank he began to drag him across the pavement, back to where he had left Kitty. He tried not to look at the corpse, but it was unavoidable. Much of the boys intestines still lay on the pavement where he had initially died, caught on something or the other. Bodily fluids still leaked from the corpse as he dragged it along. Roland couldn't stop. He had started the grisley task, and he needed to see it through until the end.
I am not a monster, I am a Marine, and I did what I thought was right. I WAS right. And I am still doing the right thing...
Reaching Kitty, he picked the girl up again, supporting her on his right shoulder. His pack lay nearby, he picked it up, swinging it around his neck. With one last glance around the area, he saw another bag laying of to the side. Slowly making his way over towards it, Roland examined the name. Kitty. Kitty Gittschall. He grunted as he slung the second pack over his neck.
"Don't worry Kitty, we're almost out of here."
Announcement said there was a Lighthouse, some Hut, Groundskeepers wasn't it? And someplace called the Greens. All three, Dangerzones. Forest. Head to the trees, regroup. Regroup and deal with Robert.
Making his way once more over to Roberts corpse, he grabbed the boy by left ankle. With a mighty yank the overburdened Roland began to drag the corpse along with him, towards the edge of the fair. He could hear Kitty on his right shoulder murmuring in pain, something about feeling dizzy.
"It's alright Kitty. You're gonna be just fine. You're on my side now."
((Roland Harte continued in Can't Fall Down))
((Kitty Gittschall continued in Can't Fall Down))
Roland winced at Kitty's pained reply. The situation did not look good. Roland glanced around the fair, it was getting dark and he could see no one nearby.
Even if there was someone, could they be trusted to help?
Roland propped the girl up slowly, careful not to hurt her anymore than she already was. Roland didn't see any severe injuries, but he wasn't exactly a first rate doctor, caution was the best course of action.
"Don't worry Kitty. I'm Roland. You remember me, right? You're in good hands, you'll be just fine."
Suddenly somewhere nearby a speaker crackled, and Roland jerked his head up. He scanned the area, looking for the source of the noise. He couldn't exactly pinpoint where it was, but it was coming through crystal clear. He cursed as a voice began to speak, an all too familiar voice. Memories of the room, his teachers cries of pain, filled Roland's mind. He gritted his teeth.
Danya. Well you fat fuck, what do you have to say?
Roland couldn't waste any time, even to listen to an announcement. There was no telling who was out there, who was already on the move. Roland began to pull Kitty up, cautiously.
"You're going to be fine. We need to get out of here, so we can check out your wounds.."
The girl was mumbling, barely able to get a full thought out. That was worrying. Roland began to move across the way, supporting Kitty on his right shoulder to where he had dropped his weapon. As he bent to pick up Charlene, still smeared with Roberts' blood, his ears pricked up. The announcement, Danya was listing the dead. A chill ran through Roland as he awkwardly shoved his sword through a loop on his belt.
Robert wasn't the first... he won't be the last. Who's already gone..? No Roland, wrong question. Who are the killers..?
Roland continued on his way, all the while supporting Kitty on his shoulder. He couldn't exactly tell what the girl was saying, not that he was listening in the first place. This announcement was much more... interesting.
Omar. Omar... wasn't he dating a girl, Sierra? Yes. Killer. Watch for him. Ale-
Roland froze. He looked back towards the tattered remains of Robert Lerger, a boy he had once known. He bit down on his lip, hard. He could taste blood in his mouth.
Alex Rasputin, killer of Eric Lorenz, Robert Lerger. Alex, next time we meet, I think we're going to have to have a little chat. And rest assured, we will meet.
He spat on the ground, blood dripping from his cut lip. That wasn't smart.
Stupid Roland, stupid! What good is this going to do you? You aren't cut out for this, your fucking 'team' has ditched on you, and you might have just killed an innocent...
He shut his eyes, breathing deep through his nose. He could feel his pulse quickening, his entire body seemingly heating up. A low growl escaped from his throat.
Control Roland, control. There will be time for evaluation... You can't lose it. You can stomach this sick game.
Focus, who else? Kris, that weird skateboarder. Kill on sight. Clio, ...Clio? Who the fuck is Clio? Shit.. Need to learn who she is. Better yet, learn to avoid her. The other twin, the other Ishida. Two..? She's murdered two people? Kill on sight. What else? Molotovs. Someone has a fucking Molotov. Fuck, how am I supposed to go up against someone with a Molotov?
...They have a FUCKING BEAR? Jesus Christ, how are we supposed to fight a bear? Need to get out of this fair. Need to get to higher ground, or some sort of building... Ivan. Russian kid, the Tennis Kid. He's a killer. Rob...? What the hell? Resident Nazi? Is he bullshitting? Rob isn't a Nazi.. But really, how well do I know Rob? Not fucking well... Oh fuck. Kronwall, Staffan's out. If he broke this fast, shit, what chance do I have on finding anyone else? Colin and Jackie, last two killers. Don't know them well.. I guess I never really would have known any of them well. Avoid, kill if unavoidable. Kill...
He looked back towards the body laying on the ground. He paused, slowly lowering Kitty down to the pavement.
"One second..."
"It has nothing to do with sins. You are right that there is no winner, but not in the way you think. There are only losers. We are all losers."
Roland flinched remember Isabel's words. No winners. Only losers. Alex, Roland... Robert. Was he a hypocrite? Had he been right? Doubt filled his mind once more. Roland began to walk, slowly at first but with growing speed towards the corpse.
The announcement said Alex killed Robert. Not true. I stabbed him, I'm as guilty as Alex. If I run away, I'm no better than he was. I can't go back and change what I've done.. but I can change what I may become.
Standing over the boys corpse, Roland looked down into his empty eyes. The blood had long since stopped flowing from the gaping wound in the boy, but the stench was only growing stronger with every passing minute. Roland hesitated before bending down and gripping the legs of Robert. With a yank he began to drag him across the pavement, back to where he had left Kitty. He tried not to look at the corpse, but it was unavoidable. Much of the boys intestines still lay on the pavement where he had initially died, caught on something or the other. Bodily fluids still leaked from the corpse as he dragged it along. Roland couldn't stop. He had started the grisley task, and he needed to see it through until the end.
I am not a monster, I am a Marine, and I did what I thought was right. I WAS right. And I am still doing the right thing...
Reaching Kitty, he picked the girl up again, supporting her on his right shoulder. His pack lay nearby, he picked it up, swinging it around his neck. With one last glance around the area, he saw another bag laying of to the side. Slowly making his way over towards it, Roland examined the name. Kitty. Kitty Gittschall. He grunted as he slung the second pack over his neck.
"Don't worry Kitty, we're almost out of here."
Announcement said there was a Lighthouse, some Hut, Groundskeepers wasn't it? And someplace called the Greens. All three, Dangerzones. Forest. Head to the trees, regroup. Regroup and deal with Robert.
Making his way once more over to Roberts corpse, he grabbed the boy by left ankle. With a mighty yank the overburdened Roland began to drag the corpse along with him, towards the edge of the fair. He could hear Kitty on his right shoulder murmuring in pain, something about feeling dizzy.
"It's alright Kitty. You're gonna be just fine. You're on my side now."
((Roland Harte continued in Can't Fall Down))
((Kitty Gittschall continued in Can't Fall Down))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Little Boy. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
"You! I can see you! Get the fuck out of here if you don't want to have your fucking head cut off! I'm not in the mood to deal with this murderer bullshit! I've had a long FUCKING night and anyone who tries fucking with me or my friends right now is gonna regret it so fucking hard, so DON'T. FUCKING. TEST ME."
Shit.
That's about all that went through poor Steve's head right then.
Shitshitshit.
Maybe he would've been better off with that creepy mirror-hating girl from last night.
Fucking shit.
Maybe he should've stayed at the beach, laughed off his medical ineptitude, tried to make friends. For all he knew, Kimberly had survived... speaking of which, shouldn't the announcement have been made by now?
No, no time to consider that. If he didn't respond soon, Hayley would probably come after him of her own accord. She'd assume he was a sneaky killer, she'd return the percieved favour. He'd die.
Not being dead was a quality Steve planned on maintaining. So he, still maintaining the tight grip on his cross, turned the corner and faced whatever fate had in store for him. Turns out it was the shorter girl he'd seen hugging that guy earlier. He took a couple of steps forwards, managing to forget the repercussions of the last time he'd approached an unstable individual, and raised his left hand in a "stop" gesture. Then he spoke, casually, hoping his tone would have at least some calming effect on Hayley. "It's cool, don't go axe-crazy, I'm not gonna attack you."
Shit.
That's about all that went through poor Steve's head right then.
Shitshitshit.
Maybe he would've been better off with that creepy mirror-hating girl from last night.
Fucking shit.
Maybe he should've stayed at the beach, laughed off his medical ineptitude, tried to make friends. For all he knew, Kimberly had survived... speaking of which, shouldn't the announcement have been made by now?
No, no time to consider that. If he didn't respond soon, Hayley would probably come after him of her own accord. She'd assume he was a sneaky killer, she'd return the percieved favour. He'd die.
Not being dead was a quality Steve planned on maintaining. So he, still maintaining the tight grip on his cross, turned the corner and faced whatever fate had in store for him. Turns out it was the shorter girl he'd seen hugging that guy earlier. He took a couple of steps forwards, managing to forget the repercussions of the last time he'd approached an unstable individual, and raised his left hand in a "stop" gesture. Then he spoke, casually, hoping his tone would have at least some calming effect on Hayley. "It's cool, don't go axe-crazy, I'm not gonna attack you."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Chib. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
-
Hollyquin†
- Posts: 332
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:24 am
Hayley's mind froze.
As positive as she had been that the shadow she'd seen was a person, she was utterly shocked to see that it was, in fact, a person. As though that made any sense at all.
The scene seemed to break down around her. At that moment she could, inexplicably, pick out every prize from every damn fairground game around her. The Ferris wheel was impossibly detailed. Later she'd look back on this scene and assume her mind had made those details up, filled in the blank spots of her surroundings to an impossible extent, whereas her real attention was focused on the boy who'd appeared before her.
He was tall. Strong-looking. He looked like a metalhead to her, though his name was slipping her mind. Not that that mattered. Who he was- the less she knew about him, the better.
The easier this would be.
He killed that kid. That corpse. He must have. There's no one else here...he must have...
Time was no longer running properly. The boy was moving one hand in impossibly slow motion. She had time to think. She had an eternity to think. She was quite sure she'd have time to light up a cigarette in the time it took for the boy to move his hand, but she decided it was unwise to test that theory.
He killed that kid. It had to be him.
But he's not holding a weapon. No matter how strong he was, he couldn't have ripped that kid apart with his bare hands, right?
Maybe that's what he's doing with his hand. Pulling out a weapon. Something really...small.
Whatever killed that kid's not small. It was like...a fucking axe or something. A huge-ass broadsword. A chainsaw. Some shit. You're being irrational.
Of course Hayley was being irrational. One of her best friends was hurt, the world seemed to have gone into fucking Bullet Time and her inner voice was irritating the utter shit out of her. Nothing was making all that much sense.
She felt the weight of the sword in her hand and gripped it tighter. It felt...good, in her hand. Heavy. Strong.
Are you going to kill him?
Hayley blinked. That was the question of the day, wasn't it?
I could do it. I could. He doesn't have a weapon. I do. He killed that kid. He could kill them. Alex. He could kill Alex.
No, he didn't. He didn't kill that kid. You know that.
No. He must have.
Had to have.
Otherwise...what am I doing?
Time seemed to be speeding up again, moving back into its normal flow. The boy's hand was moving. Up, in the universal signal for "please don't run over here and kill me". Or rather, "stop". Hayley's eyes hardly saw it. She wasn't seeing anything.
What am I doing? Why am I doing this? Because he killed him.
He must have.
No one here.
He killed him.
No, he didn't.
Then why...?
You want to.
You're playing.
Admit it, Hayley. All this 'protecting your friends' bullshit is just that. Bullshit. You want to win. At least badly enough that you're willing to kill some kid who's just as innocent as you...more so, since he's not trying to kill you.
No.
Hayley shook her head in one quick, sharp movement that was probably imperceptible from a distance.
No. He did it. That's why. I'm going to kill him. I am.
If you kill him, you're a murderer.
Self defense isn't murder.
It's not self defense if he's not trying to hurt you.
But what if he does? He could. He could hurt me. He could hurt them. He could!
Whatever makes you happy, girly. You want to be a killer, go to it. You're running out of time.
The inside of her mind was far too loud. She shook her head again. The weight in her hand. Comforting. She heard a voice. It was his, she assumed. His mouth did seem to be open. She barely heard words.
"It's cool..."
He's a killer. Gotta be a killer. Right? You can do this. Self-defense. Right?
"...don't go axe-crazy..."
Right. You have to. No choice. No choice in this game. No choices. Gotta fight. Fight or run and Alex can't run. Fight.
"...I'm not gonna attack you."
He's lying. I've got to-
No, he's not. But whatever clears your conscience, honey.
Her feet left the ground.
---
Memories poured back.
When was the last time she held a weapon? Fencing class. Had to be then.
Fencing class wasn't what you'd call a success. She'd joined basically because swords are fucking awesome, but she'd failed to consider exactly how difficult this was going to be. She came home from class- once a week, after school- drenched in sweat and in immense pain. She kept it up for a while, but during the second month she started calling in sick, and when she pulled her groin during a practice bout towards the end of the third, she gave it up entirely. Practically all of her knowledge went out the window the moment she quit. It was just too fucking hard.
She still remembered, though. It wasn't the fencing that was exhausting, it was the warmups, the practice, the stance she'd have to stand in for ten minutes at a time. On the occasion that she actually got to suit up and fight, however...
"You're very aggressive," her teacher had said. "That can be a good thing- takes your opponent by surprise. It can be a bad thing too, though. There's such a thing as being too aggressive. You have to think, too. You can't just rush at your opponent all the time."
Hayley liked that word. "Aggressive". She was aggressive.
She always would be.
---
Hayley was dashing. Again time seemed to slow. Bullet time, she thought, with something like a smile.
Aggressive.
Too aggressive, maybe.
Little late for second thoughts now. Congratulations. You're one step closed to home.
She cleared the distance, and swung the sword at his neck.
As positive as she had been that the shadow she'd seen was a person, she was utterly shocked to see that it was, in fact, a person. As though that made any sense at all.
The scene seemed to break down around her. At that moment she could, inexplicably, pick out every prize from every damn fairground game around her. The Ferris wheel was impossibly detailed. Later she'd look back on this scene and assume her mind had made those details up, filled in the blank spots of her surroundings to an impossible extent, whereas her real attention was focused on the boy who'd appeared before her.
He was tall. Strong-looking. He looked like a metalhead to her, though his name was slipping her mind. Not that that mattered. Who he was- the less she knew about him, the better.
The easier this would be.
He killed that kid. That corpse. He must have. There's no one else here...he must have...
Time was no longer running properly. The boy was moving one hand in impossibly slow motion. She had time to think. She had an eternity to think. She was quite sure she'd have time to light up a cigarette in the time it took for the boy to move his hand, but she decided it was unwise to test that theory.
He killed that kid. It had to be him.
But he's not holding a weapon. No matter how strong he was, he couldn't have ripped that kid apart with his bare hands, right?
Maybe that's what he's doing with his hand. Pulling out a weapon. Something really...small.
Whatever killed that kid's not small. It was like...a fucking axe or something. A huge-ass broadsword. A chainsaw. Some shit. You're being irrational.
Of course Hayley was being irrational. One of her best friends was hurt, the world seemed to have gone into fucking Bullet Time and her inner voice was irritating the utter shit out of her. Nothing was making all that much sense.
She felt the weight of the sword in her hand and gripped it tighter. It felt...good, in her hand. Heavy. Strong.
Are you going to kill him?
Hayley blinked. That was the question of the day, wasn't it?
I could do it. I could. He doesn't have a weapon. I do. He killed that kid. He could kill them. Alex. He could kill Alex.
No, he didn't. He didn't kill that kid. You know that.
No. He must have.
Had to have.
Otherwise...what am I doing?
Time seemed to be speeding up again, moving back into its normal flow. The boy's hand was moving. Up, in the universal signal for "please don't run over here and kill me". Or rather, "stop". Hayley's eyes hardly saw it. She wasn't seeing anything.
What am I doing? Why am I doing this? Because he killed him.
He must have.
No one here.
He killed him.
No, he didn't.
Then why...?
You want to.
You're playing.
Admit it, Hayley. All this 'protecting your friends' bullshit is just that. Bullshit. You want to win. At least badly enough that you're willing to kill some kid who's just as innocent as you...more so, since he's not trying to kill you.
No.
Hayley shook her head in one quick, sharp movement that was probably imperceptible from a distance.
No. He did it. That's why. I'm going to kill him. I am.
If you kill him, you're a murderer.
Self defense isn't murder.
It's not self defense if he's not trying to hurt you.
But what if he does? He could. He could hurt me. He could hurt them. He could!
Whatever makes you happy, girly. You want to be a killer, go to it. You're running out of time.
The inside of her mind was far too loud. She shook her head again. The weight in her hand. Comforting. She heard a voice. It was his, she assumed. His mouth did seem to be open. She barely heard words.
"It's cool..."
He's a killer. Gotta be a killer. Right? You can do this. Self-defense. Right?
"...don't go axe-crazy..."
Right. You have to. No choice. No choice in this game. No choices. Gotta fight. Fight or run and Alex can't run. Fight.
"...I'm not gonna attack you."
He's lying. I've got to-
No, he's not. But whatever clears your conscience, honey.
Her feet left the ground.
---
Memories poured back.
When was the last time she held a weapon? Fencing class. Had to be then.
Fencing class wasn't what you'd call a success. She'd joined basically because swords are fucking awesome, but she'd failed to consider exactly how difficult this was going to be. She came home from class- once a week, after school- drenched in sweat and in immense pain. She kept it up for a while, but during the second month she started calling in sick, and when she pulled her groin during a practice bout towards the end of the third, she gave it up entirely. Practically all of her knowledge went out the window the moment she quit. It was just too fucking hard.
She still remembered, though. It wasn't the fencing that was exhausting, it was the warmups, the practice, the stance she'd have to stand in for ten minutes at a time. On the occasion that she actually got to suit up and fight, however...
"You're very aggressive," her teacher had said. "That can be a good thing- takes your opponent by surprise. It can be a bad thing too, though. There's such a thing as being too aggressive. You have to think, too. You can't just rush at your opponent all the time."
Hayley liked that word. "Aggressive". She was aggressive.
She always would be.
---
Hayley was dashing. Again time seemed to slow. Bullet time, she thought, with something like a smile.
Aggressive.
Too aggressive, maybe.
Little late for second thoughts now. Congratulations. You're one step closed to home.
She cleared the distance, and swung the sword at his neck.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Hollyquin. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
(Skipping, in order for Steve to be dead in time. Apologies, but I'd rather this than be late.)
What Steve hadn't realised before stepping out was that Hayley was armed with a sword. He'd figured she was exaggerating when she'd said "have your fucking head cut off!", and maybe just had a knife or something like that. Even an axe he'd have a fair chance of defending himself from, but a long piece of pure sharpness? Not a snowball's hope in hell.
It dawned on Steve that what he'd just done was a very bad idea. He should've just run away, he had a considerably longer stride than Hayley, and was probably more fit than her as well. He'd probably have made it. But probably is meaningless when you decide to make an incredibly stupid choice. Instead of using his height and stamina to his advantage and just legging it, there he was, his right hand uselessly clenched at his chest, his left just as uselessly extended towards a clearly unhinged person armed with a frighteningly large sword.
She appeared to be in immensely deep thought for the few seconds before and after he spoke. It seemed odd, really, that she'd managed to become so absorbed in thinking so very quickly. But that wasn't really what was on Steve's mind. He was more worried as to the outcome of her thoughts. And then the expression of thought was gone. It was blank for a moment, then a disconcerting almost-smile, in perfect unison with something far more terrifying.
She was charging at him.
The first thing that went through Steve's mind was "...oh God."
The second was a wordless, primal thought, to the effect "There's nothing I can do about this."
And the last thing through his mind was the face of his late mother. In the split second before his demise, his faith remained. He was going to see her again, finally. His father would be distraught, and he felt guilty, but he knew in his heart he himself was going to find some peace at last. He was sure of it.
Then steel met flesh. The latter put up little resistance. Steel pierced flesh and shed blood. The action took less than a second, and the late Steve Barnes' head fell to the ground, a rather neutral expression on his face. He looked almost restful, with his eyes already closed, and no particular expression of pain to be found. His body soon joined it, the last beats of his heart spewing a sickening volume of blood from the point where his neck once met his shoulders. After a few seconds, the beating stopped, leaving only a slow trickle to add to the crimson stain on the ground.
His body had given up. No dramatic last words. No clinging desperately to life. Just death.
Steve was no more.
What Steve hadn't realised before stepping out was that Hayley was armed with a sword. He'd figured she was exaggerating when she'd said "have your fucking head cut off!", and maybe just had a knife or something like that. Even an axe he'd have a fair chance of defending himself from, but a long piece of pure sharpness? Not a snowball's hope in hell.
It dawned on Steve that what he'd just done was a very bad idea. He should've just run away, he had a considerably longer stride than Hayley, and was probably more fit than her as well. He'd probably have made it. But probably is meaningless when you decide to make an incredibly stupid choice. Instead of using his height and stamina to his advantage and just legging it, there he was, his right hand uselessly clenched at his chest, his left just as uselessly extended towards a clearly unhinged person armed with a frighteningly large sword.
She appeared to be in immensely deep thought for the few seconds before and after he spoke. It seemed odd, really, that she'd managed to become so absorbed in thinking so very quickly. But that wasn't really what was on Steve's mind. He was more worried as to the outcome of her thoughts. And then the expression of thought was gone. It was blank for a moment, then a disconcerting almost-smile, in perfect unison with something far more terrifying.
She was charging at him.
The first thing that went through Steve's mind was "...oh God."
The second was a wordless, primal thought, to the effect "There's nothing I can do about this."
And the last thing through his mind was the face of his late mother. In the split second before his demise, his faith remained. He was going to see her again, finally. His father would be distraught, and he felt guilty, but he knew in his heart he himself was going to find some peace at last. He was sure of it.
Then steel met flesh. The latter put up little resistance. Steel pierced flesh and shed blood. The action took less than a second, and the late Steve Barnes' head fell to the ground, a rather neutral expression on his face. He looked almost restful, with his eyes already closed, and no particular expression of pain to be found. His body soon joined it, the last beats of his heart spewing a sickening volume of blood from the point where his neck once met his shoulders. After a few seconds, the beating stopped, leaving only a slow trickle to add to the crimson stain on the ground.
His body had given up. No dramatic last words. No clinging desperately to life. Just death.
Steve was no more.
Boy 152 - Steve Barnes - DECEASED
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Chib. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
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Hollyquin†
- Posts: 332
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:24 am
[[Skipping because there wouldn't be time for the others react in between the last post and this one. NORMAL POST ORDER RESUMES AFTER THIS. I PROMISE.]]
Time had sped up. Hayley's movement had ended before she had time to register its beginnings. She felt the resistance as the sword struck the boy, but the maniacal strength she'd put behind the swing was enough to remove the resistance and that which had caused it. One second she was running towards the boy and the next she was standing there like nothing had happened.
Except for the blood splatter that hit her, the blood that coated the sword-
The head. On the floor.
There was a fucking head on the floor.
Your fault. Good job, girly.
She blinked at the reemergence of the evil voice in her head, the one she'd managed to shut up for a few seconds. She ignored it as she looked down at the severed head. She pictured the eyes opening, the face giving her a reproachful look, maybe that voice she'd heard speak a single sentence give her a lecture about how cutting people's heads off was generally frowned upon in civilized societies.
Weird stuff, severed heads. Not that I've seen tons of them. Wonder how it happened. ...Oh. Right.
Me. I did that, just now. Remember that? Barely.
One down. A shit ton to go.
I did it. Me. Me me me I killed him I...
Self-defense. Right? Self-defense. Not my fault.
Bullshit.
You're a murderer. Be proud.
At that moment several things caught up with Hayley. The adrenaline rush she'd felt when she was on the attack...the wooziness she'd felt seeing the other boy's body...the new wooziness she felt viewing this new body...her hunger and thirst that were gnawing at her stomach and throat. And-
She felt it. The head rush that proceeded what she knew was coming. The smart thing for her to do was to sit down, but her body was paralyzed. She opened her mouth. She wanted to say something meaningful, something fitting the moment, but all she could focus on was what she wanted most of all.
"I really need a fucking cigarette," Hayley mumbled.
The sky was suddenly ahead of her.
She blacked out before she hit the ground.
Time had sped up. Hayley's movement had ended before she had time to register its beginnings. She felt the resistance as the sword struck the boy, but the maniacal strength she'd put behind the swing was enough to remove the resistance and that which had caused it. One second she was running towards the boy and the next she was standing there like nothing had happened.
Except for the blood splatter that hit her, the blood that coated the sword-
The head. On the floor.
There was a fucking head on the floor.
Your fault. Good job, girly.
She blinked at the reemergence of the evil voice in her head, the one she'd managed to shut up for a few seconds. She ignored it as she looked down at the severed head. She pictured the eyes opening, the face giving her a reproachful look, maybe that voice she'd heard speak a single sentence give her a lecture about how cutting people's heads off was generally frowned upon in civilized societies.
Weird stuff, severed heads. Not that I've seen tons of them. Wonder how it happened. ...Oh. Right.
Me. I did that, just now. Remember that? Barely.
One down. A shit ton to go.
I did it. Me. Me me me I killed him I...
Self-defense. Right? Self-defense. Not my fault.
Bullshit.
You're a murderer. Be proud.
At that moment several things caught up with Hayley. The adrenaline rush she'd felt when she was on the attack...the wooziness she'd felt seeing the other boy's body...the new wooziness she felt viewing this new body...her hunger and thirst that were gnawing at her stomach and throat. And-
She felt it. The head rush that proceeded what she knew was coming. The smart thing for her to do was to sit down, but her body was paralyzed. She opened her mouth. She wanted to say something meaningful, something fitting the moment, but all she could focus on was what she wanted most of all.
"I really need a fucking cigarette," Hayley mumbled.
The sky was suddenly ahead of her.
She blacked out before she hit the ground.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Hollyquin. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
[[Madelyn Prowers continued from White Knight Nightmare]]
Madelyn had splintered off from the group for the time being as she acquainted herself with Alex's GPS. With Alex and Charlene wounded and Hayley taking care of Alex, Charlene had passed her the GPS unit for her to navigate towards another group of people in the fun fair. Alex had given her a little bit of instructions, but besides knowing where people were, the thing didn't really say much else. It would have been nice if the readout was in actual names instead of numbers, but at least if they ever got separated they could find each other now that they knew their assigned codes.
After the panic from nearly having her head explosively popped off had worn off, she decided she needed some time to herself to take a breather. While the others made their way towards the croup up ahead, Madelyn wandered around the fair to take some private time for herself and calm down.
She'd been through a lot over the course of a day, far more than she had ever expected to in her entire life. In one day, her life had been flipped turned upside-down. She needed time to refocus herself, and in order for that, she needed prayer.
As she walked alone throughout the small fair, she was in commune with the Lord, praying for the strength to carry on even as she walked through the literal valley of the shadow of death that was Survival of the Fittest. For the time being, her faith was sustaining her. The first day hadn't broken her, and now she could look forward to a possible escape once they settled down and really started planning.
As Madelyn was finishing her walk and prayers, she heard a loud clamor coming from where her group had headed. She finished things up quickly from there and ran off to see what all the commotion was about.
She caught up with the rest of the group just as everything had gone quiet. Everyone seemed to be alright; there was Alex, Charlene, and... Kyle! They'd found Kyle! Yesssssssss... She thought to herself as she excitedly pumped her fist into the air. Hayley was probably relieved as hell that she had found her boyfriend. Actually, where was Hayley?
There was just something... off to Madelyn about the whole scene. She had heard what had sounded like an argument brewing a few moments ago, but now everything was calm... No.
Everyone was silent. Eerily silent.
"Hey umm... guys, what'cha looking at?" She asked innocently enough as she approached the group. It wasn't long before she saw what had captured their attention.
It was a head.
A human head, severed from its neck as the blood poured forth from the body that it had been unceremoniously removed from.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaauuuugggghhhhhhh!" Madelyn screamed in panic and disgust as she surveyed the scene. Someone's body now lay headless on the ground. Another body was off a short distance away, its body disemboweled in a gory mess. Her best friend was down, sprawled on the ground with a bloodied sword laying next to her.
So much blood.
Two dead people.
Hayley's bloodied sword.
Was Hayley alright? What had happened?
"What the fuck?!?!" Madelyn screamed, chucking the GPS to the ground before she started to nearly pull out her hair in disbelief at the scene.
"What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?!" She exclaimed multiple times as she ran towards Hayley's side as a million terrible thoughts clouded her mind. How did two dead bodies get here? How was Hayley involved? Was everyone alright? Had Hayley... Had Hayley actually murdered someone?
No, that wasn't right. Hayley wouldn't... couldn't do something like that. Not without good reason. Maybe they were attacked?
Maybe...
Maybe...
"What the fuck happened?!" Madelyn cried out, desperate to deny the possibility that her best friend was a murderer.
Madelyn had splintered off from the group for the time being as she acquainted herself with Alex's GPS. With Alex and Charlene wounded and Hayley taking care of Alex, Charlene had passed her the GPS unit for her to navigate towards another group of people in the fun fair. Alex had given her a little bit of instructions, but besides knowing where people were, the thing didn't really say much else. It would have been nice if the readout was in actual names instead of numbers, but at least if they ever got separated they could find each other now that they knew their assigned codes.
After the panic from nearly having her head explosively popped off had worn off, she decided she needed some time to herself to take a breather. While the others made their way towards the croup up ahead, Madelyn wandered around the fair to take some private time for herself and calm down.
She'd been through a lot over the course of a day, far more than she had ever expected to in her entire life. In one day, her life had been flipped turned upside-down. She needed time to refocus herself, and in order for that, she needed prayer.
As she walked alone throughout the small fair, she was in commune with the Lord, praying for the strength to carry on even as she walked through the literal valley of the shadow of death that was Survival of the Fittest. For the time being, her faith was sustaining her. The first day hadn't broken her, and now she could look forward to a possible escape once they settled down and really started planning.
As Madelyn was finishing her walk and prayers, she heard a loud clamor coming from where her group had headed. She finished things up quickly from there and ran off to see what all the commotion was about.
She caught up with the rest of the group just as everything had gone quiet. Everyone seemed to be alright; there was Alex, Charlene, and... Kyle! They'd found Kyle! Yesssssssss... She thought to herself as she excitedly pumped her fist into the air. Hayley was probably relieved as hell that she had found her boyfriend. Actually, where was Hayley?
There was just something... off to Madelyn about the whole scene. She had heard what had sounded like an argument brewing a few moments ago, but now everything was calm... No.
Everyone was silent. Eerily silent.
"Hey umm... guys, what'cha looking at?" She asked innocently enough as she approached the group. It wasn't long before she saw what had captured their attention.
It was a head.
A human head, severed from its neck as the blood poured forth from the body that it had been unceremoniously removed from.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaauuuugggghhhhhhh!" Madelyn screamed in panic and disgust as she surveyed the scene. Someone's body now lay headless on the ground. Another body was off a short distance away, its body disemboweled in a gory mess. Her best friend was down, sprawled on the ground with a bloodied sword laying next to her.
So much blood.
Two dead people.
Hayley's bloodied sword.
Was Hayley alright? What had happened?
"What the fuck?!?!" Madelyn screamed, chucking the GPS to the ground before she started to nearly pull out her hair in disbelief at the scene.
"What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?!" She exclaimed multiple times as she ran towards Hayley's side as a million terrible thoughts clouded her mind. How did two dead bodies get here? How was Hayley involved? Was everyone alright? Had Hayley... Had Hayley actually murdered someone?
No, that wasn't right. Hayley wouldn't... couldn't do something like that. Not without good reason. Maybe they were attacked?
Maybe...
Maybe...
"What the fuck happened?!" Madelyn cried out, desperate to deny the possibility that her best friend was a murderer.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Lawther. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Alex didn't resist as Hayley lowered him down to the ground. He shut his eyes for a second, raising up his good hand to rub them gently. He needed a joint. Or some mushies. Or some E. Or fucking anything that could haze out this godawful reality even for a few moments. Alex had spent the last few years in what could only be described as a haze. Self medication had become a habit and the intake of drugs had definately lessened the depression he felt in his day to day life. Not today though. No friendly haze for Alex and nothing to mask the feelings he tried so hard to keep suppressed.
Hayley was telling him not to charge suicidally into things. He thought about this for a second. Suicide. The thought had occured to him more than once, in his darker moments. It was only when Hayley had pointed out how insane he was being that it had occured to him himself. In a strange moment of clarity, he realised that he didn't care if his plan worked or not.
He was distracted from his train of thought by a voice.
"Hayley?!"
He could only smile slightly as Hayley turned away, running over to Kyle.
Fuck.
He hid his emotions away again. He couldn't afford to have them even remotely near the surface. Not with him around. Alex always felt rather pent up around Kyle. He was very paranoid about betraying his true affections for Hayley around him. If there was one person on this island he hadn't wanted them to run into it was him.
Nothing to be done about it now.
He could only smile again at the thought. It was a familiar sentiment. For all his posturing, Alex always found himself empty handed. He only then noticed that someone had taken his gps. Alex laughed once. Whatever. Pointless anyway.
Charlene had arrived next to him.
"Do you know him?" she asked. He opened his eyes, forgetting his own problems for a second. "Yeah. His name's Kyle. Hayley's boyfriend." he said. "Good guy." he smiled, trying to pick himself up. "But then, I said that about Jonathan." he said. He looked over at her. "Keep an eye on him. You don't know him... And I don't think me or Hayley are capable of seeing him without bias." he said quietly.
He pulled himself up to head over to Hayley and Kyle, when suddenly Hayley caught someone lurking in the shadows.
Something bad is about to happen.
He felt it in his gut, knew it to be true with every ounce of his body. This shadow was a harbinger of some kind.
He played that back in his head. Jesus, he really was losing it out here. A harbing-
Suddenly Hayley had taken off, sword swinging. "Hayley! NO!" he said. Too late. Always too late. Blood flew through the air and a head. It landed perfectly upright, adding to the bizarre surrealism of the whole thing. He looked up at Hayley and seen her black out. He honestly didn't know how to react. He walked over to the head and looked at it.
This was a person once. Not even that long ago.
He looked over at Kyle. "Steve Barnes." he said. "I played guitar with him a couple of times." he said. He looked back towards the head. "Good kid. Religious. Wouldn't hurt a fly." he said. He sighed softly. There it was again, the black pit in his stomach. The disgusting hollow feeling. He leaned his back against one of the stands and lit a cigarette. He tried to think of a single reason to go on.
Hayley was telling him not to charge suicidally into things. He thought about this for a second. Suicide. The thought had occured to him more than once, in his darker moments. It was only when Hayley had pointed out how insane he was being that it had occured to him himself. In a strange moment of clarity, he realised that he didn't care if his plan worked or not.
He was distracted from his train of thought by a voice.
"Hayley?!"
He could only smile slightly as Hayley turned away, running over to Kyle.
Fuck.
He hid his emotions away again. He couldn't afford to have them even remotely near the surface. Not with him around. Alex always felt rather pent up around Kyle. He was very paranoid about betraying his true affections for Hayley around him. If there was one person on this island he hadn't wanted them to run into it was him.
Nothing to be done about it now.
He could only smile again at the thought. It was a familiar sentiment. For all his posturing, Alex always found himself empty handed. He only then noticed that someone had taken his gps. Alex laughed once. Whatever. Pointless anyway.
Charlene had arrived next to him.
"Do you know him?" she asked. He opened his eyes, forgetting his own problems for a second. "Yeah. His name's Kyle. Hayley's boyfriend." he said. "Good guy." he smiled, trying to pick himself up. "But then, I said that about Jonathan." he said. He looked over at her. "Keep an eye on him. You don't know him... And I don't think me or Hayley are capable of seeing him without bias." he said quietly.
He pulled himself up to head over to Hayley and Kyle, when suddenly Hayley caught someone lurking in the shadows.
Something bad is about to happen.
He felt it in his gut, knew it to be true with every ounce of his body. This shadow was a harbinger of some kind.
He played that back in his head. Jesus, he really was losing it out here. A harbing-
Suddenly Hayley had taken off, sword swinging. "Hayley! NO!" he said. Too late. Always too late. Blood flew through the air and a head. It landed perfectly upright, adding to the bizarre surrealism of the whole thing. He looked up at Hayley and seen her black out. He honestly didn't know how to react. He walked over to the head and looked at it.
This was a person once. Not even that long ago.
He looked over at Kyle. "Steve Barnes." he said. "I played guitar with him a couple of times." he said. He looked back towards the head. "Good kid. Religious. Wouldn't hurt a fly." he said. He sighed softly. There it was again, the black pit in his stomach. The disgusting hollow feeling. He leaned his back against one of the stands and lit a cigarette. He tried to think of a single reason to go on.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler nowave. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.