((G073- Annaliese Hansen start))
Annaliese moaned softly as her stomach turned yet another cartwheel. She sank to her knees and sat down hard before cradling her head in her hands. Whatever the students had been given to keep them sedated hit her with the efficiency of a tank. Or maybe it had just teamed up with the Dramamine she had popped just before boarding the bus.
Normally, the anti-motion sickness pill made her feel a little groggy, but this was so much worse. Since awakening, she had managed to travel a whole 50 feet or so from her start point before the pounding pain in her head had driven her to her knees and caused to vomit profusely.
Only one thing could explain the level of pain she was in. My brain must be attempting to tunnel its way out my head. Like Steve McQueen in The Great Escape. It's trying to get away from my traitorous tummy, which is turning itself inside out.
Reaching over to grab her Danya-issued bag, she tugged it under her head before curling up in a fetal position. The small actions caused a spike of pain that cause little spots of white light to appear before her eyes. She knew that being incapacitated like this was probably not a good thing for her chances of continued survival, but the whole thing was out of her hands. And she would have been more concerned if there were people around.
But currently, she was completely alone. Maybe if she got a chance to just lie quietly for awhile, the whole thing would eventually pass.
"This is so not what my horoscope promised this morning," she muttered then groaned, each word accompanied by a pounding throb. "It would almost be a mercy if someone did stumble across me and put me out of my misery."
Just Like a Hangover, But Without All the Fun
Thread Closed
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BetaKnight
- Posts: 428
- Joined: Mon Aug 20, 2018 4:05 am
(Boy 125 Watson, Frankie start)
Frankie woke early and forced himself into the nearest building, an ancient looking wooden structure. It was within this creaking shelter that he came to terms with what happened. Instead of being on a camping trip celebrating with his friends, he was in the nightmare that was Survival of the Fittest. Frankie laughed. Faced with the very real threat of death at the hands of his friends, of being the cause of those same friend's deaths.
Of being a million miles from home and failing to remember the last thing his father had said to him, only that he knew what it hadn't been. No 'I love you' or even a fond farewell. No thought towards a kind word. Not uncaring, just...distant.
Of being in a hurry to free himself from his mother's embrace, not realising it would be his last. Feeling an urge to just get away as fast as he could. Now he'd give everything to go back. Not just home, but to that exact moment. Force a goodbye out of his dad, hold that hug just a little longer.
It wasn't until Frankie felt the salty taste in his mouth that he realised he hadn't been laughing at all.
Frankie reached for his pack, pulling out a packet of assorted dried fruits. Chewing on a small handful Frankie allowed himself to focus only on grinding the fruit to a pulp, on the feeling of the fruit on his teeth, his tongue and then finally as it slid down his throat. The familiarity of food settled him, his breathing steadied and his sobs stopped. His thoughts turned to Danya's words.
Could you kill your best friend? What if your best friend could kill you?
Frankie could think of one person he'd like to kill. Just one. And even that was something he wouldn't find easy. It didn't matter how much you wanted something, the reality was always harder. Frankie would have told anyone that. It was what he knew.
Frankie searched for his weapon, grasping the handle tightly. He could feel it was a knife straight away. He'd held enough in the kitchen. But this wasn't a tool. Normally he had all his knives arranged in order. Here was his cheese knife, there was his bread knife. This...had no place in his kitchen. It was a murdering knife. He'd seen the chopping instruments of the butcher, and yes they were capable of inflicting terrible damage. But this was different. It was sleek, efficient. Made to slice a man, not a vegetable. Frankie held the knife up, examining it closely. He practised folding and unfolding the blade. Satisfied he could work the blade he stowed the knife in his pocket. The survival guide was tossed aside. Everything else stayed.
Frankie was checking his map when he heard a soft moan. The sound was faint and Frankie initially dismissed it as a trick of the wind. This was something he was perfectly ready to accept up to the point where he heard a voice.
'This is so not what my horoscope promised this morning. 'A groan, "It would almost be a mercy if someone did stumble across me and put me out of my misery.
Frankie opened the door of the hut, cursing all the way as it creaked loudly. Moving slowly, his hands open and held out in front of him ever so slightly, Frankie walked towards what he could see was a girl, curled up in a ball. Frankie wasn't sure whether the girl was watching him or not. Keeping his distance he softly called out.
'Uh, you ok there?'
Obviously the girl wasn't ok. She could even have been shot for all he knew. But you didn't go up to people and tell them how much you thought they looked like death warmed up. Especially here, where such a remark might get him a bullet in the brain for his troubles. So the redundant question stayed.
Frankie woke early and forced himself into the nearest building, an ancient looking wooden structure. It was within this creaking shelter that he came to terms with what happened. Instead of being on a camping trip celebrating with his friends, he was in the nightmare that was Survival of the Fittest. Frankie laughed. Faced with the very real threat of death at the hands of his friends, of being the cause of those same friend's deaths.
Of being a million miles from home and failing to remember the last thing his father had said to him, only that he knew what it hadn't been. No 'I love you' or even a fond farewell. No thought towards a kind word. Not uncaring, just...distant.
Of being in a hurry to free himself from his mother's embrace, not realising it would be his last. Feeling an urge to just get away as fast as he could. Now he'd give everything to go back. Not just home, but to that exact moment. Force a goodbye out of his dad, hold that hug just a little longer.
It wasn't until Frankie felt the salty taste in his mouth that he realised he hadn't been laughing at all.
Frankie reached for his pack, pulling out a packet of assorted dried fruits. Chewing on a small handful Frankie allowed himself to focus only on grinding the fruit to a pulp, on the feeling of the fruit on his teeth, his tongue and then finally as it slid down his throat. The familiarity of food settled him, his breathing steadied and his sobs stopped. His thoughts turned to Danya's words.
Could you kill your best friend? What if your best friend could kill you?
Frankie could think of one person he'd like to kill. Just one. And even that was something he wouldn't find easy. It didn't matter how much you wanted something, the reality was always harder. Frankie would have told anyone that. It was what he knew.
Frankie searched for his weapon, grasping the handle tightly. He could feel it was a knife straight away. He'd held enough in the kitchen. But this wasn't a tool. Normally he had all his knives arranged in order. Here was his cheese knife, there was his bread knife. This...had no place in his kitchen. It was a murdering knife. He'd seen the chopping instruments of the butcher, and yes they were capable of inflicting terrible damage. But this was different. It was sleek, efficient. Made to slice a man, not a vegetable. Frankie held the knife up, examining it closely. He practised folding and unfolding the blade. Satisfied he could work the blade he stowed the knife in his pocket. The survival guide was tossed aside. Everything else stayed.
Frankie was checking his map when he heard a soft moan. The sound was faint and Frankie initially dismissed it as a trick of the wind. This was something he was perfectly ready to accept up to the point where he heard a voice.
'This is so not what my horoscope promised this morning. 'A groan, "It would almost be a mercy if someone did stumble across me and put me out of my misery.
Frankie opened the door of the hut, cursing all the way as it creaked loudly. Moving slowly, his hands open and held out in front of him ever so slightly, Frankie walked towards what he could see was a girl, curled up in a ball. Frankie wasn't sure whether the girl was watching him or not. Keeping his distance he softly called out.
'Uh, you ok there?'
Obviously the girl wasn't ok. She could even have been shot for all he knew. But you didn't go up to people and tell them how much you thought they looked like death warmed up. Especially here, where such a remark might get him a bullet in the brain for his troubles. So the redundant question stayed.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler VinnyMcQ. 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.
One.
Two.
One.
Two.
One two.
One two. One two.
One two.
One two one two one two one two one two three. She tripped a bit on the last step. She shouldn't have worn the new shoes. She looked down for scuffs. The backs were already rubbing spots, the foundations upon which they'd build some nasty blisters. She'd have to pull her socks up when she found a seat. There was a sigh behind her, impatient, female, fuck off you bitch. She smiled at the bus driver as she moved. He smiled back. He smiled back? No detail, just a smell like old whiskey evaporated by cheap living mixed with faux-leather like the seat he was seated at sitted down sitting down down hard on one knee. Dry earth bit into her palms. Were mines always this dry? Bags slapped against her and the ground. Mines? The carts. What else could it be? With those it was either a mine or what else, a
bus. She shifted the weight of the big little black blue bag to make herself slimmer as she progressed through the aisle. Someone caught her eye. Of course she'd end up on Señora's bus. She flashed her that wrinkly little smile that was away more like she was hiding her disgust like she was getting shot in the fucking back and side maybe you'd smile like that too and
"Rhory! I was getting worried I wouldn't see any of my AP kids this morning."
oh señora good morning yes i'm excited for my test scores i know i got at least a 3 now if you'll excuse me you reek of everything bagel with veggie spread and the bitch behind me is sighing again and i think i've spotted my dark little coffee-and-cigarette boy behind your ugly fucking dead head and while we're on the subject mine hurts like
She rubbed the sandy dirt off on her jeans and buried her eyes deep in her fingers. Colors burst as she pressed but the fog didn't lift. What was wrong with her? She wasn't tired. She was panicked and scared. Scared people aren't tired, are they? Maybe tired of being scared. Scared of being tired? Yes, she was, thank you for noticing. She wasn't tired. Why was she tired? She knew she'd slept but she didn't really sleep because she almost always dreamt. She was good at dreaming. She tried that lucid dreaming thing once and it didn't quite work but it sort of did but no dreams this time just bus boy black then up with a st no not quite there yet this wasn't the bus. Where was the bus? This was a mine, that was not her duffel bag, that was not her big fuckin' knife, and is it alright if I sit here?
He didn't roll his eyes but she could tell he really did. She cheerfully plopped herself beside him and shoved her bags under her feet. Fuck forgot about the backs ouch no time to fix the socks now. He ignored her. He smelled like coffee. So predictable. Why was it so interesting? His earbuds were in and a familiar twang wafted out. Kurt liked this one too. We saw the dragon move down my father burned into coal? No, maybe gold. Not that it mattered, whatever it was there wasn't much le(ft foot right foot come on keep moving) something something something whatever it was it didn't matter because it meant nothing coming from him especially not with the weight on around her n(o that came later) just skip ahead what happened what happened what
Splash. Heave. Splash.
What?
She hoped he wouldn't notice the drool. She wondered if Kurt ever told him about the drool. He found it cute, he said. She was sure he'd find it cute smeared all over his shoulder. She should probably wipe it of. Arm up. Arm up? Nope, arm still down. That was no good. She slid further down and her droolstained cheek did indeed find itself on his cotton red shoulder. She marinated him with it, slathering saliva seditiously. Her neck cracked as it bent against him and Sufjan Stevens played over her head and further down she went all things go all things go the silver Sony semáforo teetered dangerously precariously precociously drove to chicago no wait new york did he skip a verse? who the hell likes being stuck in a place where you can't even smile in a van with my friend it's hot as balls we slept in parking lots and everyone's an asshole
i just want to go home said mikal as she clattered to the floor
she was not going home
the shooting the spewing squealing crude oil pig opera señora clearest of all her face not in that familiar smile at all then more black then black again as she woke with a ((G040 start)) but no that was just her arm over her face the denim seam left a line across her nose she could feel and she stumbled up in a haze one sluggily slugglishly slug girl leaving ooze and drool and tears and snot two one two three down where was she well judging by the carts she was in a mine
a mine.
she was in a mine.
she was in a mine.
she was in a mine.
she was in a mine and the teachers were dead and there was a bomb on her neck and she was going to die and she was in a mine and
Her brain was stumbling out of its inebriation, creaking and lurching. Her throat was sore and her mouth felt padded with cotton. She needed water. She tottered towards the decaying carcass of a mine cart. Its wheels were long gone and it was far off the track. She dropped the duffel bags next to it. The laptop bag was laying abandoned several hundred feet away, only slightly deflated its its missing DVD player and the make-up kit she had moved to the blue bag. She felt a bit guilty for abandoning Perry Mason, but it was necessary. Was the make-up necessary? She was sure it was probably more edible than paper or plastic if it came to that. Did that make sense? No. Her back was against the cart and the rim of the bottle was to her lips. She gulped.
She needed to think and she needed to not think.
The bus, the room, the collars, the game was not important right now. She pushed them to the back of her head. Basics first. She needed to get her bearings and find shelter. She needed to stay the fuck away from people. She gripped the knife-thing at her right arm tighter. She really needed to stay the fuck away from people. She took another gulp. She pushed things back again. She wasn't going to cry. Those splashing sounds had stopped. What were they? She knew, of course. She'd held back enough hair enough times to know. But that wasn't the only time people made wet sounds. No, she wasn't going to cry.
Mumbling, behind her. A groan. More mumbling. Footsteps. A voice, close, behind her still. Do they sound okay, asshole? She shifted herself and snaked her head around the left side of the cart. There was a wooden hut close by. Probably an office. She could see a back in the doorway. She put her back against the cart again. She took another, quieter sip.
She stayed still. She listened. She wondered if the cigarettes were still in her bag.
She really needed a cigarette.
Two.
One.
Two.
One two.
One two. One two.
One two.
One two one two one two one two one two three. She tripped a bit on the last step. She shouldn't have worn the new shoes. She looked down for scuffs. The backs were already rubbing spots, the foundations upon which they'd build some nasty blisters. She'd have to pull her socks up when she found a seat. There was a sigh behind her, impatient, female, fuck off you bitch. She smiled at the bus driver as she moved. He smiled back. He smiled back? No detail, just a smell like old whiskey evaporated by cheap living mixed with faux-leather like the seat he was seated at sitted down sitting down down hard on one knee. Dry earth bit into her palms. Were mines always this dry? Bags slapped against her and the ground. Mines? The carts. What else could it be? With those it was either a mine or what else, a
bus. She shifted the weight of the big little black blue bag to make herself slimmer as she progressed through the aisle. Someone caught her eye. Of course she'd end up on Señora's bus. She flashed her that wrinkly little smile that was away more like she was hiding her disgust like she was getting shot in the fucking back and side maybe you'd smile like that too and
"Rhory! I was getting worried I wouldn't see any of my AP kids this morning."
oh señora good morning yes i'm excited for my test scores i know i got at least a 3 now if you'll excuse me you reek of everything bagel with veggie spread and the bitch behind me is sighing again and i think i've spotted my dark little coffee-and-cigarette boy behind your ugly fucking dead head and while we're on the subject mine hurts like
She rubbed the sandy dirt off on her jeans and buried her eyes deep in her fingers. Colors burst as she pressed but the fog didn't lift. What was wrong with her? She wasn't tired. She was panicked and scared. Scared people aren't tired, are they? Maybe tired of being scared. Scared of being tired? Yes, she was, thank you for noticing. She wasn't tired. Why was she tired? She knew she'd slept but she didn't really sleep because she almost always dreamt. She was good at dreaming. She tried that lucid dreaming thing once and it didn't quite work but it sort of did but no dreams this time just bus boy black then up with a st no not quite there yet this wasn't the bus. Where was the bus? This was a mine, that was not her duffel bag, that was not her big fuckin' knife, and is it alright if I sit here?
He didn't roll his eyes but she could tell he really did. She cheerfully plopped herself beside him and shoved her bags under her feet. Fuck forgot about the backs ouch no time to fix the socks now. He ignored her. He smelled like coffee. So predictable. Why was it so interesting? His earbuds were in and a familiar twang wafted out. Kurt liked this one too. We saw the dragon move down my father burned into coal? No, maybe gold. Not that it mattered, whatever it was there wasn't much le(ft foot right foot come on keep moving) something something something whatever it was it didn't matter because it meant nothing coming from him especially not with the weight on around her n(o that came later) just skip ahead what happened what happened what
Splash. Heave. Splash.
What?
She hoped he wouldn't notice the drool. She wondered if Kurt ever told him about the drool. He found it cute, he said. She was sure he'd find it cute smeared all over his shoulder. She should probably wipe it of. Arm up. Arm up? Nope, arm still down. That was no good. She slid further down and her droolstained cheek did indeed find itself on his cotton red shoulder. She marinated him with it, slathering saliva seditiously. Her neck cracked as it bent against him and Sufjan Stevens played over her head and further down she went all things go all things go the silver Sony semáforo teetered dangerously precariously precociously drove to chicago no wait new york did he skip a verse? who the hell likes being stuck in a place where you can't even smile in a van with my friend it's hot as balls we slept in parking lots and everyone's an asshole
i just want to go home said mikal as she clattered to the floor
she was not going home
the shooting the spewing squealing crude oil pig opera señora clearest of all her face not in that familiar smile at all then more black then black again as she woke with a ((G040 start)) but no that was just her arm over her face the denim seam left a line across her nose she could feel and she stumbled up in a haze one sluggily slugglishly slug girl leaving ooze and drool and tears and snot two one two three down where was she well judging by the carts she was in a mine
a mine.
she was in a mine.
she was in a mine.
she was in a mine.
she was in a mine and the teachers were dead and there was a bomb on her neck and she was going to die and she was in a mine and
no
stop
focus
focus focus focus
Breathe.
Better.
stop
focus
focus focus focus
Breathe.
Better.
Her brain was stumbling out of its inebriation, creaking and lurching. Her throat was sore and her mouth felt padded with cotton. She needed water. She tottered towards the decaying carcass of a mine cart. Its wheels were long gone and it was far off the track. She dropped the duffel bags next to it. The laptop bag was laying abandoned several hundred feet away, only slightly deflated its its missing DVD player and the make-up kit she had moved to the blue bag. She felt a bit guilty for abandoning Perry Mason, but it was necessary. Was the make-up necessary? She was sure it was probably more edible than paper or plastic if it came to that. Did that make sense? No. Her back was against the cart and the rim of the bottle was to her lips. She gulped.
She needed to think and she needed to not think.
The bus, the room, the collars, the game was not important right now. She pushed them to the back of her head. Basics first. She needed to get her bearings and find shelter. She needed to stay the fuck away from people. She gripped the knife-thing at her right arm tighter. She really needed to stay the fuck away from people. She took another gulp. She pushed things back again. She wasn't going to cry. Those splashing sounds had stopped. What were they? She knew, of course. She'd held back enough hair enough times to know. But that wasn't the only time people made wet sounds. No, she wasn't going to cry.
Mumbling, behind her. A groan. More mumbling. Footsteps. A voice, close, behind her still. Do they sound okay, asshole? She shifted herself and snaked her head around the left side of the cart. There was a wooden hut close by. Probably an office. She could see a back in the doorway. She put her back against the cart again. She took another, quieter sip.
She stayed still. She listened. She wondered if the cigarettes were still in her bag.
She really needed a cigarette.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler nope. 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.
-
BetaKnight
- Posts: 428
- Joined: Mon Aug 20, 2018 4:05 am
"Uh, you okay there?"
The masculine voice didn't sound threatening. In fact, he actually sounded kind of concerned. Annaliese debated her options and decided on human interaction.
"Just peachy," she ground out as she concentrated on not projectile vomiting on his feet. Ever so slowly, she uncurled herself and began the arduous process of sitting up. Oh-kay. You can do this. Getting vertical...getting vertical.... After several grunts and pauses, Annaliese sat up, her head hanging loosely while she panted. "That...was one of THE suckiest experiences of my life. And I stepped on a jelly fish once," she informed her new friend.
She abruptly raised a finger in the international "one minute" gesture and clamped her free hand over her mouth. Several reflexive swallows later, she looked up at the young man, squinting. "Hey...uh, guy. Not to come across as a complete tool, but, uh, I don't really recognize you. I'm Annaliese. Nice to meet you."
Moving with extreme care to not further jar her head, she grabbed her bag and dragged it towards her. "So need water now. But I'll just bet the water's in plastic bottles. You do realize that plastic bottles release a chemical into the things they contain. It's a toxin called...uh...called...." Annaliese's voice trailed off as she fumbled with the zipper. "I can't remember what it's called right now, but it's sooooo bad for you."
The masculine voice didn't sound threatening. In fact, he actually sounded kind of concerned. Annaliese debated her options and decided on human interaction.
"Just peachy," she ground out as she concentrated on not projectile vomiting on his feet. Ever so slowly, she uncurled herself and began the arduous process of sitting up. Oh-kay. You can do this. Getting vertical...getting vertical.... After several grunts and pauses, Annaliese sat up, her head hanging loosely while she panted. "That...was one of THE suckiest experiences of my life. And I stepped on a jelly fish once," she informed her new friend.
She abruptly raised a finger in the international "one minute" gesture and clamped her free hand over her mouth. Several reflexive swallows later, she looked up at the young man, squinting. "Hey...uh, guy. Not to come across as a complete tool, but, uh, I don't really recognize you. I'm Annaliese. Nice to meet you."
Moving with extreme care to not further jar her head, she grabbed her bag and dragged it towards her. "So need water now. But I'll just bet the water's in plastic bottles. You do realize that plastic bottles release a chemical into the things they contain. It's a toxin called...uh...called...." Annaliese's voice trailed off as she fumbled with the zipper. "I can't remember what it's called right now, but it's sooooo bad for you."
Frankie stood awkwardly as the girl slowly sat up. 'Just peachy' she'd said. This was of course a complete lie. It was like when you asked a girl if they were ok and they said 'fine'. They were never fine but they'd much rather you sit and figure out what was wrong with them rather than just say and save you the trouble. Fortunately this time it was easy to see what was wrong. Obviously a bad reaction to the knockout gas. Nothing a steaming bowel of chicken soup wouldn't cure. Frankie wondered where he'd find a chicken on the island. Then it happened.
"Hey...uh, guy. Not to come across as a complete tool, but, uh, I don't really recognize you. I'm Annaliese. Nice to meet you."
Of course she didn't know him. Why would she? What girl would pay any attention to big fat Frankie? Frankie felt the anger rise in him, a bitter recognition of rejection by proxy. Nothing was going to change. And now there was no more time. This was how he was going out, not a fond memory or anything but just some unknown big guy who put on a good show running for his life but in the end no one remembered him.
'I'm Frankie,' he said, 'I wish we could have met under better circumstances.'
Frankie felt his anger subside. Could he really blame the girl for not knowing him? It wasn't as if he put himself out there. Not after...well, not after what had happened. Maybe here was the place to change all that. Frankie ate another handful of fruit, chewing methodically and savouring the taste. Not that there was much taste. He'd much rather have a bowl of tangerine slices served with caramel. Chilled. Or a cheesecake. Or any kind of cake. Or...a packet of low calorie dried fruits. Frankie cursed himself for packing his diet food. If he'd have known what was coming he'd have packed accordingly. A last meal for the ages.
Now the girl was going on about toxins in the water bottles. Great, another threat to worry about. Now he'd just go ahead and die of thirst. Frankie assured the girl that it was the least of their worries. There were bigger things to worry about.
"Hey...uh, guy. Not to come across as a complete tool, but, uh, I don't really recognize you. I'm Annaliese. Nice to meet you."
Of course she didn't know him. Why would she? What girl would pay any attention to big fat Frankie? Frankie felt the anger rise in him, a bitter recognition of rejection by proxy. Nothing was going to change. And now there was no more time. This was how he was going out, not a fond memory or anything but just some unknown big guy who put on a good show running for his life but in the end no one remembered him.
'I'm Frankie,' he said, 'I wish we could have met under better circumstances.'
Frankie felt his anger subside. Could he really blame the girl for not knowing him? It wasn't as if he put himself out there. Not after...well, not after what had happened. Maybe here was the place to change all that. Frankie ate another handful of fruit, chewing methodically and savouring the taste. Not that there was much taste. He'd much rather have a bowl of tangerine slices served with caramel. Chilled. Or a cheesecake. Or any kind of cake. Or...a packet of low calorie dried fruits. Frankie cursed himself for packing his diet food. If he'd have known what was coming he'd have packed accordingly. A last meal for the ages.
Now the girl was going on about toxins in the water bottles. Great, another threat to worry about. Now he'd just go ahead and die of thirst. Frankie assured the girl that it was the least of their worries. There were bigger things to worry about.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler VinnyMcQ. 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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BetaKnight
- Posts: 428
- Joined: Mon Aug 20, 2018 4:05 am
((skipping James for the time being))
"Say hey, Fran-kay," Annaliese said as she continued to dig in her bag. She quickly withdrew her hand from the bag as her fingers came in contact with a piece of cool, smooth metal. "What the," she murmured as she shifted some contents around to get a better view. A part of a metal circle became visible. She briefly contemplated pulling it out to get a closer look at it, but decided that water was a more pressing concern.
She heaved a sigh as her suspicions were confirmed. The only form of drinkable liquid in the bag was indeed water in a recyclable plastic bottle. She held it up and eyed it critically. "You know, the least they could do is not poison us with chemicals. Polluting the environment with these never-gonna-degrade chunks of transparent dinosaurs is bad enough on its own." Sighing again, she unscrewed the top and took a long drink.
She glanced up at Frankie as he assured her it wasn't really high on their current list of concerns. Looking down as the remaining water, she gave the bottle a little swirl, making the water spin along the contours of the container. "I guess you're right," she admitted, capping the bottle. Annaliese tossed the bottle back into the bag with a frown.
"So, uhh...do you have any clue where we are, exactly? Or, like, a good idea on what to do next? Mostly, I've just been laying here trying to keep my insides from becoming my outsides, if you know what I mean."
"Say hey, Fran-kay," Annaliese said as she continued to dig in her bag. She quickly withdrew her hand from the bag as her fingers came in contact with a piece of cool, smooth metal. "What the," she murmured as she shifted some contents around to get a better view. A part of a metal circle became visible. She briefly contemplated pulling it out to get a closer look at it, but decided that water was a more pressing concern.
She heaved a sigh as her suspicions were confirmed. The only form of drinkable liquid in the bag was indeed water in a recyclable plastic bottle. She held it up and eyed it critically. "You know, the least they could do is not poison us with chemicals. Polluting the environment with these never-gonna-degrade chunks of transparent dinosaurs is bad enough on its own." Sighing again, she unscrewed the top and took a long drink.
She glanced up at Frankie as he assured her it wasn't really high on their current list of concerns. Looking down as the remaining water, she gave the bottle a little swirl, making the water spin along the contours of the container. "I guess you're right," she admitted, capping the bottle. Annaliese tossed the bottle back into the bag with a frown.
"So, uhh...do you have any clue where we are, exactly? Or, like, a good idea on what to do next? Mostly, I've just been laying here trying to keep my insides from becoming my outsides, if you know what I mean."
'I've no idea, there's a map in the bags though yeah? It seems safe enough though so why don't we just stay here; get in one of those buildings once night comes. 'Frankie paused. 'For shelter, not uh, well you know...' he trailed off lamely. Frankie felt his face heat up. Now was hardly the time. 'But yeah we could make a nice little camp here. Homely you know, well, as homely as a place like this could get.' He kicked a stone hard. It bounced and skittered across the ground. Frankie could hear nothing. They were safe as long as they stayed here. Frankie entertained the thought of surviving. I wonder if I'll ever be able to work with meat again. Oh god! I'm gonna become a vegetarian aren't I.
Frankie looked down at Annaliese. He was hopeless with girls, yet here he was with one right now. Bar his blunder before things were going fine. Frankie smiled and scratched an itch on his face. Jeez I'm sweating like a bitch. he thought as his hand left his face. Frankie made sure not to lift his arms up from now on. No one needed to see that. Especially not a girl. Frankie turned away and looked around him. Behind one of the huts there was a small noise and Frankie tensed up, reaching for the knife. His mouth went dry. He opened it to shout a warning, anything just to get Annaliese away.
A small brown shape streaked out from behind the hut. It was only a bird. Frankie let out a sigh of relief, then shut his mouth tight. She doesn't need to know I got so worked up over nothing. Hopefully she didn't see anything. Because there's nothing there.
Frankie looked down at Annaliese. He was hopeless with girls, yet here he was with one right now. Bar his blunder before things were going fine. Frankie smiled and scratched an itch on his face. Jeez I'm sweating like a bitch. he thought as his hand left his face. Frankie made sure not to lift his arms up from now on. No one needed to see that. Especially not a girl. Frankie turned away and looked around him. Behind one of the huts there was a small noise and Frankie tensed up, reaching for the knife. His mouth went dry. He opened it to shout a warning, anything just to get Annaliese away.
A small brown shape streaked out from behind the hut. It was only a bird. Frankie let out a sigh of relief, then shut his mouth tight. She doesn't need to know I got so worked up over nothing. Hopefully she didn't see anything. Because there's nothing there.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler VinnyMcQ. 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.
((Ericka Bradley continued from Droplets))
The Sun was slowly rising over the horizon. A new day had come... sure, the world had been in no threat of ending, but there was no doubt that people on this island had not lived to see this sunrise. Ericka had almost been one of them. Even taking into account her good weapon draw, she had no doubts that if the last encounter had proceeded differently there was a chance that she may not have survived it. More care would have to be taken in the future to avoid a similar incident.
Ericka scanned the forest for signs of movement. She had been wandering through the forest in a deliberately twisted path hoping that any potential followers would lose her trail. Unfortunately for her, this took quite some time, and she hadn't had time to find a safe place to sleep. Even while being cautious sleep would still be needed, and one would need to find an appropriately hidden spot to do so.
According to the map Ericka was approaching the mine. She had decided that such a place may have enough cracks, crevices, and abandoned equipment that she could find a hiding place fitting for a nap... or at least, she hoped she would.
When she reached the mine she saw that she was likely correct in her assessment, a number of pieces of abandoned mining equipment littered the site, several wooden structures also stood around the area. She could probably find a good area to hide and sleep, though it was unlikely to be comfortable.
As she began to search for her hiding spot there was a clapping noise. Startled, Ericka nervously looked around for the source of sound, but was soon made aware of its true nature; it was the First Announcement. Ericka listened intently as Danya spoke... Nineteen people. Nineteen of her fellow students had not lived to see the sunrise. None of the names, killer or victim, sounded familiar to her. Ericka felt relief that the mine was not a danger zone. She didn't want to be driven out so soon after arriving.
Ericka began her search for a safe hiding spot once again, making sure to move silently in case anyone was nearby.
The Sun was slowly rising over the horizon. A new day had come... sure, the world had been in no threat of ending, but there was no doubt that people on this island had not lived to see this sunrise. Ericka had almost been one of them. Even taking into account her good weapon draw, she had no doubts that if the last encounter had proceeded differently there was a chance that she may not have survived it. More care would have to be taken in the future to avoid a similar incident.
Ericka scanned the forest for signs of movement. She had been wandering through the forest in a deliberately twisted path hoping that any potential followers would lose her trail. Unfortunately for her, this took quite some time, and she hadn't had time to find a safe place to sleep. Even while being cautious sleep would still be needed, and one would need to find an appropriately hidden spot to do so.
According to the map Ericka was approaching the mine. She had decided that such a place may have enough cracks, crevices, and abandoned equipment that she could find a hiding place fitting for a nap... or at least, she hoped she would.
When she reached the mine she saw that she was likely correct in her assessment, a number of pieces of abandoned mining equipment littered the site, several wooden structures also stood around the area. She could probably find a good area to hide and sleep, though it was unlikely to be comfortable.
As she began to search for her hiding spot there was a clapping noise. Startled, Ericka nervously looked around for the source of sound, but was soon made aware of its true nature; it was the First Announcement. Ericka listened intently as Danya spoke... Nineteen people. Nineteen of her fellow students had not lived to see the sunrise. None of the names, killer or victim, sounded familiar to her. Ericka felt relief that the mine was not a danger zone. She didn't want to be driven out so soon after arriving.
Ericka began her search for a safe hiding spot once again, making sure to move silently in case anyone was nearby.
( Nevermind my foolishness. Also post order is changed at the ok of everyone in the thread)
Frankie looked out towards the forest. His nerves were still on edge. The temperature was dropping, the chill of night creeping in. Frankie could weather the cold quite well. It had something to do with his 'insulation'. He looked down at his body. The island will be good for me. I didn't bring anything bad to eat; it'll be like a detox. His belly rumbled loudly and he turned to get some more rabbit food from his pack. Annaliese was still sitting on the ground. As he was walking back to her he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Someone to be precise. The one person he was dreading meeting. The one he could only dream of meeting on the island.
Frankie always likened the idea to beauty and the beast. He was the hulking hairy monster, she the petite beauty. No one would believe his luck when he walked about with her. Finally his efforts had paid off. The diets and workouts, hours and days of torture finally worth it. He'd been giddy all day. As much as tried to be cool about it he could barely contain himself. She was being coy when she didn't meet his eye that day. He could barely contain his smile. You could hear it in his voice when he made the dinner reservation. Even his father had noticed. For that day he was /dad/, not father. Frankie felt as his heart would burst with pride.
Instead it broke.
Of course he was overreacting. Maybe there'd been a mix up. She could have been confused and got the days in a muddle. Or maybe she was just running late. He could have waited longer. No, he could see it in the eyes on everyone at the restaurant. The waiter, the bar staff and even the manager eventually who said it pained him very much but, surely he would understand how much they needed the table. It had been a special favour holding it in the first place. Frankie politely thanked them for their time. He kept his face rigid all the way to the car.
Ericka Bradley.
Ericka who sometimes worked at the library.
Ericka who didn't think she was better than him.
Proof that it was what was on the inside that counted, despite his improvements.
Ericka who even now looked stunning in her beige sweater. Who even after everything still caused his breath to catch in his throat, his heart to beat a mile a minute. Oh what he wouldn't have given to not be the one to find her. It couldn't have gone any other way. It had to be him who confronted her. It had to be him who ended her life. It has to be me. I deserve it. So does she. And now she was creeping into his life again. Annaliese between them, no one else to be seen. She hadn't seen him yet. It would be quick.
She doesn't deserve quick.
'Ericka!' he shouted.
Frankie looked out towards the forest. His nerves were still on edge. The temperature was dropping, the chill of night creeping in. Frankie could weather the cold quite well. It had something to do with his 'insulation'. He looked down at his body. The island will be good for me. I didn't bring anything bad to eat; it'll be like a detox. His belly rumbled loudly and he turned to get some more rabbit food from his pack. Annaliese was still sitting on the ground. As he was walking back to her he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Someone to be precise. The one person he was dreading meeting. The one he could only dream of meeting on the island.
Frankie always likened the idea to beauty and the beast. He was the hulking hairy monster, she the petite beauty. No one would believe his luck when he walked about with her. Finally his efforts had paid off. The diets and workouts, hours and days of torture finally worth it. He'd been giddy all day. As much as tried to be cool about it he could barely contain himself. She was being coy when she didn't meet his eye that day. He could barely contain his smile. You could hear it in his voice when he made the dinner reservation. Even his father had noticed. For that day he was /dad/, not father. Frankie felt as his heart would burst with pride.
Instead it broke.
Of course he was overreacting. Maybe there'd been a mix up. She could have been confused and got the days in a muddle. Or maybe she was just running late. He could have waited longer. No, he could see it in the eyes on everyone at the restaurant. The waiter, the bar staff and even the manager eventually who said it pained him very much but, surely he would understand how much they needed the table. It had been a special favour holding it in the first place. Frankie politely thanked them for their time. He kept his face rigid all the way to the car.
Ericka Bradley.
Ericka who sometimes worked at the library.
Ericka who didn't think she was better than him.
Proof that it was what was on the inside that counted, despite his improvements.
Ericka who even now looked stunning in her beige sweater. Who even after everything still caused his breath to catch in his throat, his heart to beat a mile a minute. Oh what he wouldn't have given to not be the one to find her. It couldn't have gone any other way. It had to be him who confronted her. It had to be him who ended her life. It has to be me. I deserve it. So does she. And now she was creeping into his life again. Annaliese between them, no one else to be seen. She hadn't seen him yet. It would be quick.
She doesn't deserve quick.
'Ericka!' he shouted.
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"Ericka!"
She turned quickly to face the person who called her name, shrinking back away from him slightly, it was a boy who she didn't recognize...
...
No... wait... maybe he did look a little familiar... but where had she...?
...
The Library! Of course! Even at her least social she had to talk to a lot of people at the library, if someone recognized her it was probably from there.
That's right! This boy had often come to the school's library awhile back, then he more-or-less stopped coming. His name was... Freddy? No. Frankie? Yes! That was it! Frankie!
Ericka's inner self, the small voice that everyone has inside their heads, her consciousness, whatever you call it was crying out to Ericka that something was wrong. Although Ericka believed it, she couldn't just bolt, that could cause more problems then it solved.
She tightened her grip on her gun and spoke hesitantly, " ...H-hey, uh, Frankie..." she stammered. "I-is something wrong... other than the obvious, of course..." at the mention of 'the obvious' she loosened her grip on her gun just a moment, bringing her left hand up to touch the collar around her neck before returning it to the grip of her weapon. "I just can't b-believe we're... you know... here..."
You shouldn't have done that... You know you shouldn't have done that, Ericka... Something isn't right here. You'd be safer somewhere else, alone.
She turned quickly to face the person who called her name, shrinking back away from him slightly, it was a boy who she didn't recognize...
...
No... wait... maybe he did look a little familiar... but where had she...?
...
The Library! Of course! Even at her least social she had to talk to a lot of people at the library, if someone recognized her it was probably from there.
That's right! This boy had often come to the school's library awhile back, then he more-or-less stopped coming. His name was... Freddy? No. Frankie? Yes! That was it! Frankie!
Ericka's inner self, the small voice that everyone has inside their heads, her consciousness, whatever you call it was crying out to Ericka that something was wrong. Although Ericka believed it, she couldn't just bolt, that could cause more problems then it solved.
She tightened her grip on her gun and spoke hesitantly, " ...H-hey, uh, Frankie..." she stammered. "I-is something wrong... other than the obvious, of course..." at the mention of 'the obvious' she loosened her grip on her gun just a moment, bringing her left hand up to touch the collar around her neck before returning it to the grip of her weapon. "I just can't b-believe we're... you know... here..."
You shouldn't have done that... You know you shouldn't have done that, Ericka... Something isn't right here. You'd be safer somewhere else, alone.
Frankie looked on in disgust as he watched realisation dawn in the girl's eyes. Or not it seemed because she started into some stuttering rambling about the whole island business. She doesn't even remember. The /obvious/? Frankie said as much aloud. 'Well you know that really depends on what kind of obvious we're talking about. I mean right now the island isn't looking so bad. Sometimes you need to be out of your familiar environment to solve a conflict proper.'
Frankie sniffed and scratched his nose. 'I can see you're having trouble putting your finger on the exact problem. Never mind let me...refresh your memory. You know I thought you weren't like those other girls. They always looked down their noses at me, crinkled their faces in disgust at the thought of me. But not you. You were always very kind to me. More fool me. It was all a game wasn't it? Set em up then knock em down that's your style, isn't it?'
Frankie's eyes were wide and he understood with grim conviction that events were spiralling out of control. By his own hand he was about to turn down a very dark path. He was giving in to his desires. He was giving in to the game. He was consumed by anger, a terrible rage that swallowed what good feelings he had for her and replaced them only with malice. There was no redemption. For either of us.
Of course it was futile. He was big fat Frankie. He had a knife. She was Ericka Bradley. And she had a wicked looking gun. Frankie could see the ending already. But that was his nature, it was part of him. Knowing the outcome couldn't stop him playing, no matter the game. I'll make a good fight. That's all that counts.
Frankie sniffed and scratched his nose. 'I can see you're having trouble putting your finger on the exact problem. Never mind let me...refresh your memory. You know I thought you weren't like those other girls. They always looked down their noses at me, crinkled their faces in disgust at the thought of me. But not you. You were always very kind to me. More fool me. It was all a game wasn't it? Set em up then knock em down that's your style, isn't it?'
Frankie's eyes were wide and he understood with grim conviction that events were spiralling out of control. By his own hand he was about to turn down a very dark path. He was giving in to his desires. He was giving in to the game. He was consumed by anger, a terrible rage that swallowed what good feelings he had for her and replaced them only with malice. There was no redemption. For either of us.
Of course it was futile. He was big fat Frankie. He had a knife. She was Ericka Bradley. And she had a wicked looking gun. Frankie could see the ending already. But that was his nature, it was part of him. Knowing the outcome couldn't stop him playing, no matter the game. I'll make a good fight. That's all that counts.
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Ericka listened to his words, all of them, but it didn't make any sense to her. Did she do something to him? What... Why... Why did he seem so angry? His description of her didn't sound like her...
Something's not right! Gotta Run! Gotta Hide!
The basest instincts in Ericka's brain were screaming. Telling her that a predator was nearby, drawing in for the kill. Something was strange. Something was dangerous. Something wanted her dead. Was it Frankie...? Couldn't be... from what she remembered of him he was the kinda guy who wouldn't hurt a fly. The only reason to doubt him was paranoia...
Paranoia? Was it paranoia when your father wanted you to learn how to survive in situations like this? Was it paranoia when he said you shouldn't go on any field trips? Was it paranoia when distrusted those people at the coast? Yes, in all those cases it was paranoia, BUT examine them more closely. If you had believed your father in the first case you'd be prepared for this situation, but that wouldn't have mattered because... If you had believed your father in the second case you wouldn't even be in this situation! And as for the third situation? You are currently alive, and you still have your weapon! Face it Ericka, paranoia is a virtue here!
Ericka took a deep breath. In a tone much more confident than she had thought herself capable of she spoke; "Okay, you keep making vague comments. Out with it! What did I do to you that's making you act like this?"
Something's not right! Gotta Run! Gotta Hide!
The basest instincts in Ericka's brain were screaming. Telling her that a predator was nearby, drawing in for the kill. Something was strange. Something was dangerous. Something wanted her dead. Was it Frankie...? Couldn't be... from what she remembered of him he was the kinda guy who wouldn't hurt a fly. The only reason to doubt him was paranoia...
Paranoia? Was it paranoia when your father wanted you to learn how to survive in situations like this? Was it paranoia when he said you shouldn't go on any field trips? Was it paranoia when distrusted those people at the coast? Yes, in all those cases it was paranoia, BUT examine them more closely. If you had believed your father in the first case you'd be prepared for this situation, but that wouldn't have mattered because... If you had believed your father in the second case you wouldn't even be in this situation! And as for the third situation? You are currently alive, and you still have your weapon! Face it Ericka, paranoia is a virtue here!
Ericka took a deep breath. In a tone much more confident than she had thought herself capable of she spoke; "Okay, you keep making vague comments. Out with it! What did I do to you that's making you act like this?"
'What did you do?' Frankie snorted in disbelief. 'You humiliated me that's what. You made me think I had a chance but all along you were joking about me behind my back.' Frankie imagined the smallest violin being played somewhere nearby. He ignored it. 'All my hard work counted for nothing.' He spat the words out. He looked away in anger before turning to look at her again. 'I know now that I was working on a lost cause. It doesn't matter how hard I try, and I try DAMN hard, it will never make a difference.' Frankie could see the smallest violin being stomped on. He ignored it.
Frankie stared straight into Ericka's eyes. The only victory he could claim here was a moral one. He had to hold his nerve. He couldn't let her weasel her way out of this, his only chance of revenge. He had both their graves planned out. I'll put her in hers first. There was no way he could close the distance safely. If he could then it would be no contest. I could probably snap her with one hand. Frankie clenched his jaw as he concentrated and swallowed as he tried to work up the courage to start his charge.
Frankie considered his thoughts carefully. If they were to be his last he wanted them to be worthy. Unfortunately they were filled with images of the world's smallest violin. He felt a growl building deep within him. I can't let her get to me anymore. She can't win. I'm just setting things right. The growl escaped Frankie's lips as a fully-fledged roar. He felt the knife as if it were a part of him as it arced in his hand. As his roar tapered out he hurled the knife at Ericka's face. As it flew through the empty space he saw it skewer the small man who'd been smashing the violin. Take that he thought as he ran towards her. His heavy footfalls pounded in his ears. He felt his muscles tense in anticipation. This is it.
Frankie stared straight into Ericka's eyes. The only victory he could claim here was a moral one. He had to hold his nerve. He couldn't let her weasel her way out of this, his only chance of revenge. He had both their graves planned out. I'll put her in hers first. There was no way he could close the distance safely. If he could then it would be no contest. I could probably snap her with one hand. Frankie clenched his jaw as he concentrated and swallowed as he tried to work up the courage to start his charge.
Frankie considered his thoughts carefully. If they were to be his last he wanted them to be worthy. Unfortunately they were filled with images of the world's smallest violin. He felt a growl building deep within him. I can't let her get to me anymore. She can't win. I'm just setting things right. The growl escaped Frankie's lips as a fully-fledged roar. He felt the knife as if it were a part of him as it arced in his hand. As his roar tapered out he hurled the knife at Ericka's face. As it flew through the empty space he saw it skewer the small man who'd been smashing the violin. Take that he thought as he ran towards her. His heavy footfalls pounded in his ears. He felt his muscles tense in anticipation. This is it.
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All he did was confuse her more. He confirmed to her that she had done something to him. Apparently it humiliated him, and apparently she had talked about it behind his back but she would never... oh... wait...
Around the time that he stopped coming around the library, a girl, a year or two younger, with light brown hair and green eyes was sitting at a table. Ericka remembered her because she came around a lot, always sat at the same table, and was always disrupting the atmosphere of the library through talking and even loud gum-chewing. The girl came that day for no reason other than to hang out, but her friends were kept after class so she was bugging Ericka instead. "Hey, library girl! Over here! So, I've been wondering, what happened with that thing the other day?" the girl asked. "Thing? What 'thing' you mean?" "You know, that thing with that guy, your date." "D-date!? Who would ask me on a date?" "What's his name... That Frankie guy, you didn't go on a date with him?" the girl said confused, then a sly smirk spread across her face and she came closer and whispered in Ericka's ear "Or maybe you did and he did something to you after that you wanna keep private, huh?" Ericka jerked away from the other girl quickly, "H-He Didn't! I didn't...! He never asked me out! We weren't a thing!" The other girl found Ericka's panic amusing, laughing loudly, Ericka herself couldn't help but let out a nervous half-laugh at the situation. Why would anyone ask her of all people on a date?
Maybe the girl that time hadn't just been making fun of her. Maybe Frankie had asked her and she didn't hear him or something.
Her thoughts were interrupted as Frankie threw his knife at Ericka. Out of instinct she leaned to dodge it, but it's handle still managed to hit her in the shoulder. He would kill her if he had the chance, so she didn't have time to think.
She pointed her gun at Frankie and put pressure on the trigger.
*BANG*
Around the time that he stopped coming around the library, a girl, a year or two younger, with light brown hair and green eyes was sitting at a table. Ericka remembered her because she came around a lot, always sat at the same table, and was always disrupting the atmosphere of the library through talking and even loud gum-chewing. The girl came that day for no reason other than to hang out, but her friends were kept after class so she was bugging Ericka instead. "Hey, library girl! Over here! So, I've been wondering, what happened with that thing the other day?" the girl asked. "Thing? What 'thing' you mean?" "You know, that thing with that guy, your date." "D-date!? Who would ask me on a date?" "What's his name... That Frankie guy, you didn't go on a date with him?" the girl said confused, then a sly smirk spread across her face and she came closer and whispered in Ericka's ear "Or maybe you did and he did something to you after that you wanna keep private, huh?" Ericka jerked away from the other girl quickly, "H-He Didn't! I didn't...! He never asked me out! We weren't a thing!" The other girl found Ericka's panic amusing, laughing loudly, Ericka herself couldn't help but let out a nervous half-laugh at the situation. Why would anyone ask her of all people on a date?
Maybe the girl that time hadn't just been making fun of her. Maybe Frankie had asked her and she didn't hear him or something.
Her thoughts were interrupted as Frankie threw his knife at Ericka. Out of instinct she leaned to dodge it, but it's handle still managed to hit her in the shoulder. He would kill her if he had the chance, so she didn't have time to think.
She pointed her gun at Frankie and put pressure on the trigger.
*BANG*
Frankie sat at his desk in the library. Ericka was sitting on a desk alone, buried in paperwork. Who would have guessed there was so much to do behind the scenes around here? The library was mostly empty. One or two girls in the years below. He felt confident.
Frankie followed the knife as it flew towards Ericka. It hit her on the shoulder. Handle first. Oh FUCK. he thought as the sound of a gunshot rang out. Pain shot through him. It felt like fire. He wanted to scratch and claw and tear the fire out. He stumbled but kept going. Every step hurt. Instead of a purposeful tackle Frankie fell clumsily into Ericka. The small girl was flattened under him. Heaving he knelt up. Ow. It hurts. Ow SHIT FUCK, a cry of pain and anger escaped his lips. He raised a fist to strike her, but she squirmed under him and he hit dirt.
I've got her. She got me first but at least I'll take her down with me. Will she stand me up in heaven?
Frankie gritted his teeth. This was his moment. Ericka struggled in vain under him. He saw the knife in the dirt not far away. Sweat and dirt mixed freely on his face. The bloodstain on his shirt was growing. Frankie pushed the hair from his face and licked his dry lips. He could feel the pain with every movement. He raised the knife. Just one quick motion. His fingers tightened around the handle. She's already shot you. What are you waiting for?
She looked so pretty that day. Frankie had never seen someone who made him feel like this before. She was nothing compared to the other girls. This time he was approaching her on an equal footing. He wasn't some desperate overweight slob who lusted after unobtainable beauty after all. He was a confident young man with a great personality and sharp sense of humour. That's all you need right. She caught his eye.
She caught his eye. He could see himself in hers. A madman. A killer, /her/ killer. He hesitated. The knife fell from his hand into the dirt.
He walked over to her. His voice was steady as he said hello. She'd given him a quick glance and a smile before returning to her work. He asked her to dinner, it would be his honour he'd said. What did she say? He couldn't remember.
Frankie sat back, still pinning Ericka. It was over. He had his chance but he couldn't take it. He didn't see her scrabble for the knife.
But he felt the blows.
Frankie followed the knife as it flew towards Ericka. It hit her on the shoulder. Handle first. Oh FUCK. he thought as the sound of a gunshot rang out. Pain shot through him. It felt like fire. He wanted to scratch and claw and tear the fire out. He stumbled but kept going. Every step hurt. Instead of a purposeful tackle Frankie fell clumsily into Ericka. The small girl was flattened under him. Heaving he knelt up. Ow. It hurts. Ow SHIT FUCK, a cry of pain and anger escaped his lips. He raised a fist to strike her, but she squirmed under him and he hit dirt.
I've got her. She got me first but at least I'll take her down with me. Will she stand me up in heaven?
Frankie gritted his teeth. This was his moment. Ericka struggled in vain under him. He saw the knife in the dirt not far away. Sweat and dirt mixed freely on his face. The bloodstain on his shirt was growing. Frankie pushed the hair from his face and licked his dry lips. He could feel the pain with every movement. He raised the knife. Just one quick motion. His fingers tightened around the handle. She's already shot you. What are you waiting for?
She looked so pretty that day. Frankie had never seen someone who made him feel like this before. She was nothing compared to the other girls. This time he was approaching her on an equal footing. He wasn't some desperate overweight slob who lusted after unobtainable beauty after all. He was a confident young man with a great personality and sharp sense of humour. That's all you need right. She caught his eye.
She caught his eye. He could see himself in hers. A madman. A killer, /her/ killer. He hesitated. The knife fell from his hand into the dirt.
He walked over to her. His voice was steady as he said hello. She'd given him a quick glance and a smile before returning to her work. He asked her to dinner, it would be his honour he'd said. What did she say? He couldn't remember.
Frankie sat back, still pinning Ericka. It was over. He had his chance but he couldn't take it. He didn't see her scrabble for the knife.
But he felt the blows.
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