((I believe that Measure Once, Cut Twice is over, so i'm starting the new thread. Sorry for breaking the rules if I'm mistaken))
((Gary Griffith continued from Lean on Me))
A loud yell echoed through the field of tree stumps.
"REEEEEEEEEEEIN!"
After, a few seconds without an answer, came another:
"REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIN!"
Finally, as the small, weak boy - the source of screaming - came to the sawmill splitting the logging road in half, he let out his last cry, definitely weaker than a couple hundreds of others before.
"REEEEEEEEEeein..."
And then he started sobbing. Gary couldn't control it anymore. He sat down, leaning his back on the wall of the sawmill, and hid his head between his crossed arms.
In Gary's mind, it looked like the God and Satan decided to make him another Job, and see how he'll react. His world changed into a living hell, and now he already had to run for his life and witness the death of two other classmates. Finally, God decided to take away his last spark of hope and separate him from his best friend just minutes after they found themselves.
And who knows, maybe Gary would become the very opposition to Job, and curse the God with all his strength, but all of the said strength already withered some time ago.
So he sat there for God knows how many hours, still crying and hoping he won't have to raise up his head and open eyes ever again.
False Hope
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Yossarian†
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False Hope
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(Rachel Gettys continued from Wind in the Willow)
Today had not been very successful at all for Rachel. The obstinate unbelievers were everywhere on this island, and she had been sorely tempted to cave in their skulls. But that would have hardened their hearts even further. What she needed was a bargaining method, some means by which she could gather allies to herself. But what could she give? Emotional comfort was out, as they all instead seemed to enjoy wallowing in their sorrows. The promise of his coming had not worked, as they were all too skeptical to believe in it. As for physical strength, she was a poor showing for that. Her only weapon was a blunt stick, which she also depended upon to support her. What she needed was a real weapon.
The complaint in Rachel's leg was silenced by the shock of seeing what appeared to be a bombed-out structure, which her map marked as the Sawmill. Even with a double check, Rachel's knowledge of the local landmarks drew her to the same conclusion. Something had happened here, and she was terrified at the thought of seeing the person who had wrought such destruction.
As it stood though, the only person who she could see outside was one simpering man, who she recognized as Gary Griffith. A bit of a nerd, with the physique to match, Gary always struck Rachel as a destined failure, doomed to spend eternity with his stupid computer hobbies while she did something useful with her life. However, as of the moment, he looked like he desperately needed to be saved, given that he was crying like a pathetic little baby. If she played correctly, perhaps, just perhaps, Rachel would be able to make an impact on his life. Whether it was with the gospel or a stick remained to be seen.
"Griffith, I am glad to see that you are well," she lied, resting against one of the trucks outside the building. "Though do you suppose that it is safe to be alone out here? I have the Lord by my side, but as for you, I wonder..." Feeling her ankle, she winced a little at how swollen it had become. Far too much walking, she supposed. It would suit her well to have a place to sit and chat with someone. And if Griffith had a weapon for her, all the better.
Today had not been very successful at all for Rachel. The obstinate unbelievers were everywhere on this island, and she had been sorely tempted to cave in their skulls. But that would have hardened their hearts even further. What she needed was a bargaining method, some means by which she could gather allies to herself. But what could she give? Emotional comfort was out, as they all instead seemed to enjoy wallowing in their sorrows. The promise of his coming had not worked, as they were all too skeptical to believe in it. As for physical strength, she was a poor showing for that. Her only weapon was a blunt stick, which she also depended upon to support her. What she needed was a real weapon.
The complaint in Rachel's leg was silenced by the shock of seeing what appeared to be a bombed-out structure, which her map marked as the Sawmill. Even with a double check, Rachel's knowledge of the local landmarks drew her to the same conclusion. Something had happened here, and she was terrified at the thought of seeing the person who had wrought such destruction.
As it stood though, the only person who she could see outside was one simpering man, who she recognized as Gary Griffith. A bit of a nerd, with the physique to match, Gary always struck Rachel as a destined failure, doomed to spend eternity with his stupid computer hobbies while she did something useful with her life. However, as of the moment, he looked like he desperately needed to be saved, given that he was crying like a pathetic little baby. If she played correctly, perhaps, just perhaps, Rachel would be able to make an impact on his life. Whether it was with the gospel or a stick remained to be seen.
"Griffith, I am glad to see that you are well," she lied, resting against one of the trucks outside the building. "Though do you suppose that it is safe to be alone out here? I have the Lord by my side, but as for you, I wonder..." Feeling her ankle, she winced a little at how swollen it had become. Far too much walking, she supposed. It would suit her well to have a place to sit and chat with someone. And if Griffith had a weapon for her, all the better.
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Yossarian†
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Seconds, minutes, hours passed, and the small boy still refused to look at the outside world. So far it only brought him harm and sorrow. Gary even considered just giving up, falling asleep and never waking up again, or just pulling off his collar to end his suffering once and for all... But he just couldn't do that. Rein was still out there, and the only thing he feared more than challenging the island again, was the thought that he will make Rein's life even more miserable by giving up.
And then the voice. The female, friendly voice... Filled with lies. What did that voice mean that he was well? That was the last thing someone could say looking at the black haired boy.
Finally, Gary rose up his head a bit and opened his eyes to see Rachel Gettys. Even though Gary was not really into social life of the school, he recognized her immediately. She was a religious fanatic of some sort, and hell of a bitch according to the people he spoke with sometimes. Looks like either the God still hadn't enough of irony, if he placed placed THIS specific person on Gareth's way now, or on the contrary, he decided to confront his latest thoughts by sending her.
She asked him, if he feels safe alone before mentioning about the Lord Almighty protecting her. Was that the truth? Maybe it was, as he could feel protective of his most zealous follower at school. If that was the case, then he would turn out to be one hell of a dick for doing that, while sending hell to people who didn't do anything wrong either.
"S-safe?" The boy answered while holding back his tears. "Y-yeah, I feel safe alone. I-in fact, I want to be alone... The God has abandoned me... He put me in here, made me r-run for my life twice, he made me watch two people dying, and now... And now he s-separated me from my... F-f-from my..."
Another wave of tears fell on his cheeks as he couldn't force himself to bring up Rein's name. Instead, he grabbed his hair, and went back to fetal position again.
"W-why? Why would he do that? I'm not a s-sinner..."
And then the voice. The female, friendly voice... Filled with lies. What did that voice mean that he was well? That was the last thing someone could say looking at the black haired boy.
Finally, Gary rose up his head a bit and opened his eyes to see Rachel Gettys. Even though Gary was not really into social life of the school, he recognized her immediately. She was a religious fanatic of some sort, and hell of a bitch according to the people he spoke with sometimes. Looks like either the God still hadn't enough of irony, if he placed placed THIS specific person on Gareth's way now, or on the contrary, he decided to confront his latest thoughts by sending her.
She asked him, if he feels safe alone before mentioning about the Lord Almighty protecting her. Was that the truth? Maybe it was, as he could feel protective of his most zealous follower at school. If that was the case, then he would turn out to be one hell of a dick for doing that, while sending hell to people who didn't do anything wrong either.
"S-safe?" The boy answered while holding back his tears. "Y-yeah, I feel safe alone. I-in fact, I want to be alone... The God has abandoned me... He put me in here, made me r-run for my life twice, he made me watch two people dying, and now... And now he s-separated me from my... F-f-from my..."
Another wave of tears fell on his cheeks as he couldn't force himself to bring up Rein's name. Instead, he grabbed his hair, and went back to fetal position again.
"W-why? Why would he do that? I'm not a s-sinner..."
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Despite his pitiable appearance, Gary seemed to at least be willing to talk. And what a tale he had spun. Tragedy, heartbreak, and loss appeared to have played a great role in this young man's time on the island, and for a brief moment, Rachel was tempted to place a consoling hand on this man's shoulder. However, that quickly passed when Gary had the audacity to claim that God would be so cruel as to target him personally for all this misery. "Shut up, Gary," she ordered him, "we are all sinners here. Placing yourself in the same shoes as Job is thinking too highly of yourself."
Walking among the trucks, Rachel glanced inside the beds, checking for a weapon of some kind. All she found was the corpse of Lily Ainsworth, whose collar had detonated for reasons Rachel did not care about. It could have been the fault of Liz, who was actively ruining everyone's lives, or it could have been her own incompetence. Either way, Rachel pulled down the door of the truck bed and looked around for Ainsworth's bag, spotting it just a short distance away from the body. With a bit of a stretch that made her leg groan in protest, Rachel pulled the bag over and examined it for weapons. She was sorely disappointed.
"Weird," she said to herself, "why would someone steal a weapon but leave the food and medicine?" Sitting up on the bed door, Rachel pushed Lily a short distance further down the bed so that she could get a better seat and think. If someone else didn't take her weapon, then what could have happened to it? Perhaps she hid it, Rachel considered. But if so, where? The potential hiding places were plenteous. Turning to look at the still body of Lily, staring off aimlessly into the sky, Rachel was tempted to kick the corpse with her good foot.
Curse you, Ainsworth. If you've gone and done something clever, I promise you...
Rachel's thoughts were cut short by looking through the back window of the truck. Inside, the glove compartment was ajar, and in that glove compartment lay something that looked suspiciously like a gun. Slowly stepping down from the bed, Rachel walked over to the truck door and wrenched it open. Sure enough, it was unmistakably an uzi. Raising the weapon up so that she could gaze upon it, Rachel smiled with unadulterated glee, but that swiftly faded when the other aspect of the weapon became known to her.
She unloaded it. That bitch unloaded this gun!
Running her hand back and forth along the glove compartment, Rachel banged the uzi on the side of the truck in frustration when the truth became even more evident. She'd found a firearm with no bullets, and what use was that? She was halfway tempted just to throw the gun to the ground, but she instead jammed it into her bag, incensed at the insensitivity of Ainsworth. "Can you believe it, Gary?" Rachel yelled. "An uzi of all things, and no ammo to use it with. Now THIS is cruelty." Rachel supposed that it was better than no weapon at all, but for the moment, it was simply just another blunt instrument.
Walking among the trucks, Rachel glanced inside the beds, checking for a weapon of some kind. All she found was the corpse of Lily Ainsworth, whose collar had detonated for reasons Rachel did not care about. It could have been the fault of Liz, who was actively ruining everyone's lives, or it could have been her own incompetence. Either way, Rachel pulled down the door of the truck bed and looked around for Ainsworth's bag, spotting it just a short distance away from the body. With a bit of a stretch that made her leg groan in protest, Rachel pulled the bag over and examined it for weapons. She was sorely disappointed.
"Weird," she said to herself, "why would someone steal a weapon but leave the food and medicine?" Sitting up on the bed door, Rachel pushed Lily a short distance further down the bed so that she could get a better seat and think. If someone else didn't take her weapon, then what could have happened to it? Perhaps she hid it, Rachel considered. But if so, where? The potential hiding places were plenteous. Turning to look at the still body of Lily, staring off aimlessly into the sky, Rachel was tempted to kick the corpse with her good foot.
Curse you, Ainsworth. If you've gone and done something clever, I promise you...
Rachel's thoughts were cut short by looking through the back window of the truck. Inside, the glove compartment was ajar, and in that glove compartment lay something that looked suspiciously like a gun. Slowly stepping down from the bed, Rachel walked over to the truck door and wrenched it open. Sure enough, it was unmistakably an uzi. Raising the weapon up so that she could gaze upon it, Rachel smiled with unadulterated glee, but that swiftly faded when the other aspect of the weapon became known to her.
She unloaded it. That bitch unloaded this gun!
Running her hand back and forth along the glove compartment, Rachel banged the uzi on the side of the truck in frustration when the truth became even more evident. She'd found a firearm with no bullets, and what use was that? She was halfway tempted just to throw the gun to the ground, but she instead jammed it into her bag, incensed at the insensitivity of Ainsworth. "Can you believe it, Gary?" Rachel yelled. "An uzi of all things, and no ammo to use it with. Now THIS is cruelty." Rachel supposed that it was better than no weapon at all, but for the moment, it was simply just another blunt instrument.
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Yossarian†
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Even though Gary felt offended at first, after the girl simply told him to shut up, he understood one thing - he needs to finally stop acting like a giant whiner. Sitting here and crying is not going to help him find Rein.
Gary wiped away the tears from his red cheek, slowly stood up, and started cleaning his glasses a bit. In the meantime, Rachel started looking for something near the truck. Gareth had completely no idea what was going through her head. She looked like she had some kind of a plan, even if it was just a wacky and crazy plan as Rachel herself. And who knows? Maybe the God really was guiding her to do the right thing. That would certainly be a bit comforting.
Gary finished cleaning his stuff, as the girl found an Uzi, but without an ammo. Although, having something to protect you would be nice, the boy was not sure if he would really feel safe with a girl like Rachel holding a firearm.
And then, as he put his glasses back on his nose, Gary realized something. He didn't think of it earlier, as he was far too preoccupied with wallowing in grief, but now, as he started thinking clear again, he reminded himself of certain obnoxious voice telling all the islanders that...
"W-wait..." Gary took a few steps back from Rachel. "Y-you... You k-k-killed somebody, right? T-two people..."
At this point, Gary was ready to turn back and run for his life YET AGAIN, but for some unexplainable reason even for himself, he still stood there, and waited for the answer.
Gary wiped away the tears from his red cheek, slowly stood up, and started cleaning his glasses a bit. In the meantime, Rachel started looking for something near the truck. Gareth had completely no idea what was going through her head. She looked like she had some kind of a plan, even if it was just a wacky and crazy plan as Rachel herself. And who knows? Maybe the God really was guiding her to do the right thing. That would certainly be a bit comforting.
Gary finished cleaning his stuff, as the girl found an Uzi, but without an ammo. Although, having something to protect you would be nice, the boy was not sure if he would really feel safe with a girl like Rachel holding a firearm.
And then, as he put his glasses back on his nose, Gary realized something. He didn't think of it earlier, as he was far too preoccupied with wallowing in grief, but now, as he started thinking clear again, he reminded himself of certain obnoxious voice telling all the islanders that...
"W-wait..." Gary took a few steps back from Rachel. "Y-you... You k-k-killed somebody, right? T-two people..."
At this point, Gary was ready to turn back and run for his life YET AGAIN, but for some unexplainable reason even for himself, he still stood there, and waited for the answer.
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In response to Gary's question, Rachel sighed and turned her head to look at him. The man's question was valid, she understood, but at the same time, she was tired of hearing it. She did not know whether she could trust a man who had slain another, but she believed that she would first ask the man for his story before inserting her own. She decided, therefore, that she would give her end of the tale, and if Gary still considered her a villain, that would be a result of his own intolerance. Rachel was not evil, nor was she crazy, and anyone who considered her to be either of those was either unknowing or purposefully ignorant.
"Look at this, Griffith," Rachel demanded, pointing with her free hand at the makeshift cane she had been leaning on. "A man on this island did this to me, and would have done worse had I not fought back. Yes, I killed him, but consider the alternative. I was already injured, so I could not run. The only choices I had were to fight back or let him kill me." Rachel considered taking a step or two towards Griffith to accentuate the next point, but alarmed as he already was, he probably would have run.
"Think on it," she continued therefore, leaning against the truck. "Danya wishes for us to kill one another, and he is also the one who reports the deaths. Do you really suppose that HE would tell the true story?" At the word 'he,' Rachel had thrust a finger out at a camera hanging off the side of the building, focused right at them. "I am no murderer, Griffith, so stop assuming that I am, just because our host says that I am."
"Look at this, Griffith," Rachel demanded, pointing with her free hand at the makeshift cane she had been leaning on. "A man on this island did this to me, and would have done worse had I not fought back. Yes, I killed him, but consider the alternative. I was already injured, so I could not run. The only choices I had were to fight back or let him kill me." Rachel considered taking a step or two towards Griffith to accentuate the next point, but alarmed as he already was, he probably would have run.
"Think on it," she continued therefore, leaning against the truck. "Danya wishes for us to kill one another, and he is also the one who reports the deaths. Do you really suppose that HE would tell the true story?" At the word 'he,' Rachel had thrust a finger out at a camera hanging off the side of the building, focused right at them. "I am no murderer, Griffith, so stop assuming that I am, just because our host says that I am."
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Yossarian†
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Gary's heart froze, as he listened to Rachel. So she really did kill two people.
Of course, her explanation made sense. If she wouldn't do it, she would be dead already. Kill or be killed right? Still, the very concept of Gary hanging out with someone who already did the act of killing, and probably didn't have any qualms about doing it again, made him feel sick again.
So far, wherever he shown up his head, there was a death and hostility there as well. The grim reaper followed his every step, and no doubt, he already sharpened his scythe after hearing a prospect of Gary accompanying a killer.
No...
"No... Sorry... I... I just..." The boy desperately tried to hold back his tears once again. "I j-just cannot even imagine m-myself coping w-with that. I k-know you're not a bad person, I just..."
And without any more words, Gary grabbed his pack, turned away from Rachel, and once again ran away. He was a coward, and he knew that. He was alive though, and in his best interest was to avoid danger at any cost.
((Gary Griffith continued in Where House?))
Of course, her explanation made sense. If she wouldn't do it, she would be dead already. Kill or be killed right? Still, the very concept of Gary hanging out with someone who already did the act of killing, and probably didn't have any qualms about doing it again, made him feel sick again.
So far, wherever he shown up his head, there was a death and hostility there as well. The grim reaper followed his every step, and no doubt, he already sharpened his scythe after hearing a prospect of Gary accompanying a killer.
No...
"No... Sorry... I... I just..." The boy desperately tried to hold back his tears once again. "I j-just cannot even imagine m-myself coping w-with that. I k-know you're not a bad person, I just..."
And without any more words, Gary grabbed his pack, turned away from Rachel, and once again ran away. He was a coward, and he knew that. He was alive though, and in his best interest was to avoid danger at any cost.
((Gary Griffith continued in Where House?))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Yossarian. 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.
To say that the conversation did not go as expected would have been naive folly. Word was spreading too quickly of Rachel's activities, and her mission seemed nigh-impossible under those circumstances. Perhaps if she had not impulsively acted upon her urge to kill that limey, her case would have had more weight to it. If only she had known...
No, she assured herself, his death was unavoidable. She had a mission to spread the Word and punish all who attempted to stop her in that mission, and so the only response that she could have done was to kill him. Far be it from her to understand why that was so, but as she was performing the actions of a faithful servant, she knew that what she was doing was right. Perhaps, she considered, the weapon that she now carried would work with ammunition from other guns. Or perhaps, more simply, she could find other guns. Either way, she could only keep looking and keep spreading the word, and, God willing, actually lead some souls to him.
And so Rachel hobbled on, ever in search of people to convert. Those who stood in her way now had a solid piece of metal to contend with rather than a wood cudgel, so her acquisition was a step up. Soon, all people on this island would either see her mercy or feel her wrath.
(Rachel Gettys continued in Don't Fear The Reaper)
No, she assured herself, his death was unavoidable. She had a mission to spread the Word and punish all who attempted to stop her in that mission, and so the only response that she could have done was to kill him. Far be it from her to understand why that was so, but as she was performing the actions of a faithful servant, she knew that what she was doing was right. Perhaps, she considered, the weapon that she now carried would work with ammunition from other guns. Or perhaps, more simply, she could find other guns. Either way, she could only keep looking and keep spreading the word, and, God willing, actually lead some souls to him.
And so Rachel hobbled on, ever in search of people to convert. Those who stood in her way now had a solid piece of metal to contend with rather than a wood cudgel, so her acquisition was a step up. Soon, all people on this island would either see her mercy or feel her wrath.
(Rachel Gettys continued in Don't Fear The Reaper)