Dead Girls

[MurderWeasel]

((Kimberly Nguyen continued from Where Have All the Flowers Gone?))

Kimberly was one of the few students on the island who had managed to not hear a word about the rescue attempt as it was in progress. She'd actually been sleeping at the time, catching up on badly-needed rest in a little hidden place she had discovered. When she found out about the escape attempt on the announcements, she was pretty fucking steamed. It was simple to say that she hadn't missed anything, that everyone had died, but she wasn't sure she bought that. Of course they'd say everyone had died. Anything else would be idiotic, would give the students hope.

More than that, even if the announcements were right, it'd have been a good enough way to die. Nothing like giving the system the finger. It's what Liz had done. It was all you could ask for here, the ability to pick the manner of your death.

Kimberly wasn't gonna go quietly, that was for fucking sure. When her time came, it would be with a scream and a laugh. She'd make them shake in fear, make them stop and think and never forget, not for the rest of their fucking lives.

But that, that was for the future. With any luck, for far in the future. For now, she had some business to attend to. She had some lives to ruin.

It was why she was here at the groundskeeper's hut, actually. She'd wanted some shelter, somewhere to keep the world away while she delivered her message. She'd considered the docks. They were likely abandoned. She couldn't quite face up to going back, though, not yet.

Unfortunately, this wasn't as good a location. During her approach, she'd been cautious, expecting someone, something. There was nothing. Everyone was gone. Everyone was dying, was leaving Kimberly alone. It was strange. She should have died over a week ago, should have never gotten back up on that beach. She had no business still breathing.

Fuck that.

She'd live as long as she wanted to, as long as she could. Time to get this over with. Time to accomplish her purpose here.

She walked inside. There were a couple of spots that looked like bodies had once rested there, smears and stains. It made her frown a bit. Still, this had no bearing on what she was looking for. She needed a camera. Surely there was still a camera here.

It took her a couple seconds, but she found one, up in a corner. She took a couple deep breaths. Looked around. Made sure she was alone. Turned back to the door. There was a deadbolt, so she latched it. Nobody would be getting in now, not without breaking the door down or smashing through a window. No interruptions.

Funny. She'd never really had stage fright before. This was her one shot, though, her last little hope of getting to the people who had to pay.

Sarah. Bridget. They thought they were safe now. That, or they were dead. Either way, they were gone, out of her reach, beyond her grasp. She had to hope they were alive. Otherwise, they'd gotten off far too fucking easy.

She took one more breath, then stepped forward, centering herself in the camera's gaze.

"Hey," she said.

"I know there's probably something more exciting going on somewhere right now. Someone blowing shit up or something. I'm hoping maybe you can find a little time for a message, though."

She didn't like talking to the terrorists. She didn't like requesting things. These days, she was used to doing, taking. Having the power to even make herself heard taken out of her hands hurt. It hurt and it pissed her off even more.

Harness that anger.

"So, anyways, I've got a little bit to say to a couple people. Just simple stuff, really. Goodbyes, maybe."

Kimberly didn't like goodbyes. She wasn't saying goodbyes, not exactly. They were the medium, not the purpose.

"So, to Sarah Xu and Bridget whatever-the-fuck-that-I-can't-remember, I know you supposedly died or something. Maybe you did get your stupid asses killed. A couple days ago, I wouldn't have believed it, but, well, I still thought you were good people then. Thought you were worth something. Fuck, thought I wasn't nice enough to hang out in your little escape club.

"But, see, I was wrong. You're not worth anything. You're just a sad bunch of fucking losers. I'm ashamed to owe you my life. I've been looking for you, you know. Not trying to link up. I was gonna find you and give you some things to think about. Now I have to fall back on this.

"You know why I'm saying this? I hope you do. I hope you're not such cowards that you've been hiding from the consequences of your actions. But, hey, if you are, well, that's why I'm calling you out. Someone you know will watch this. If you're alive, someday you will interact with someone who's seen this, and they'll ask you about it, they'll say, 'Man, you're lucky you got out before that crazy Kimberly bitch caught up with you. She'd have fucked you up,' and you'll wonder. Maybe you won't ever muster the courage to check this out, on YouTube or whatever. Maybe you'll never know. Maybe you'll always just wonder what I had to say to you.

"But, hey, if you're watching, I'll tell you a secret. I'll tell you the reason I fucking hate you.

"It's simple. You thought you were so good. Thought you'd get everyone clear, save your friends. Thought you were better than some fucking revenge plan. And you know what? Maybe you could have been. But you didn't do anything. You didn't ever accomplish a fucking thing, as far as I heard.

"That's fine.

"I met Liz Polanski, you know. Pushed her around a little. I don't know if she got anything done except getting her ass shot. But she knew. She fucking knew what she was throwing away, what she was giving up. She knew she was killing people. Did you? Did you stop and say, 'I'm throwing my friends' lives away to better my chances'? I bet you didn't.

"I'm talking about Dutchy. Roland, too, I guess.

"Brook killed him, Sarah. He killed Dutchy, and he'd have tortured him to death if I hadn't been there. You let the one decent person among you go off and die, and then you ran. You were supposed to protect him, to keep your team safe. Instead, you copped out, took the easy route. You escaped, or died thinking you had, maybe. He died. He died for nothing. He died scared and he would've died alone if I hadn't been there.

"So, you saved my life, and I sat with him while he died. So, all debts are fucking paid. So, now it's my turn to give you an obligation.

"You watch what happened to Dutchy, you two. Watch him die. See everything, and know that it's your fucking fault. Oh, and check out what happened to Roland, too, while you're at it. I hear it was Kris Hartmann. Damn, sure wish someone'd caught up with her now, huh? Sure wish someone had crippled her or shit like that, stopped her from killing again, yeah?

"Fuck, maybe I'm not being fair. Don't really give a damn anymore. I just wanted you to know it's all your fault.

"And if you really are dead, well, fuck, then your parents should know they raised real winners, yeah?"

That was where she'd planned to leave it. She was on a roll, though, mad and hurt and just wanting to destroy something.

"You know what? If you are alive? It doesn't mean shit. You just get another sixty years or something, if you're lucky. Then you're just as dead as everyone else. You're dead and rotting and after a couple years no one gives a fuck. Me, I'd rather not have any regrets. I'd rather not have ditched my friends and lost my purpose and failed on every level, even if it lets me go on existing. But, hey, that's just me. We've all gotta live with our choices.

"If there's anything after this, though, I'll be seeing you before too long. Sixty, seventy years, it's not forever. Just remember that.

"So, one dead girl to another: I hope you're happy right now."

A smile. Enjoy that, Sarah, Bridget. Listen to me. Maybe you can still make things right, somehow. Probably not. I don't care. I just want you to hurt.

Speaking of hurting...

"Oh, and, grandma, grandpa, thanks for everything. You were wonderful role models. Made me what I am today.

"And, mom, du ma nhieu. I never forgave you."

This wasn't to hurt in a truly malicious way, though. Not in the long run. Sure, right now it'd sting. It'd piss them off, make them angry as fuck. Make them curse her name. That'd help, though. That'd help them get over her, help them realize that genetics had screwed them and given them a stupid, vicious bitch of a descendant. They'd move on. Blame her father, perhaps. Maybe they'd leave her flowers or some shit like that. Maybe not. Maybe someday they'd even figure things out, figure out that she'd loved them all. Wouldn't matter to her.

Nothing would.

She was going to die. No way around it.

Why not here? Why not make fucking sure her words made it home? Why not make sure they'd show it all?

Get the last laugh.

Make those fuckers hurt.

And just minutes ago, she'd wanted to live longer.

Her hand, her one good hand, was at her neck. Her fingers were curled under her collar. They were too sensitive, these bombs. People were able to blow them up all the time, with nothing but a tug. So simple.

There was one thing holding her back, one reason not to just bring it all to an end.

Kris.

Somewhere, Kris was still out there, still causing trouble. Kris was still a menace. She still needed to suffer.

More and more, Kimberly was wondering if it might be pointless to make herself the instrument of that suffering, though. She was wondering if, just maybe, she was chasing shadows. Kris had been scared and stupid, and just maybe a little malicious. That was true of everyone. It was true of Kimberly herself.

She was breathing heavily. Not crying. Barely.

You won't make me cry, Kris. Never again.

She didn't even know what she wanted anymore. She just wanted to hurt them. To hurt them all. To tear them all limb from limb, to see them dead, just as dead as she was. She hadn't seen anyone in days. She hadn't seen anyone since Dutchy had died. Her righteous fury had burned bright, then, had kept her moving, had kept her strong, but she couldn't last forever. Everything she'd said to the cameras had been true. This was all just a big joke. This whole thing was just accelerating the normal process of life. Everyone died. All that mattered was what you did with the time beforehand. All that mattered was that you made the most of it.

And she had.

Yes, she had.

She'd caused pain and suffering. What kindness she had shown had been transient and superficial, had been to those who could no longer benefit from it. She still had no regrets.

Almost none.

Just one little mistake.

Just one little wrong to right.

"You better show everything I said. I don't want to regret walking away from here."

Good. She let her hand fall away. Turned to the door. Opened it, and got ready to move again. Glanced back.

"Oh, and one more thing.

"Aislyn was a mistake. And...

"And I guess I'm sorry."

And that was that. A few less regrets. A few more items checked off her list.

And one girl she still had to have words with. After all, she could never let go that easily. Not after all this time. It wasn't about Kris anymore. Maybe it had never been. It was all about Kimberly, all about wanting to break and hurt. Kris just happened to be her chosen target. She was an arbitrary target of obsession. Kimberly could live with that.

She could die once their business was finished. She wouldn't like it any more then, but she'd at least be able to stomach it, to go through with it if time was right. For now, though, she had work to do. She'd fucked around long enough.

She was out the door and moving again.

((Kimberly Nguyen continued in Burn On))