((Madeleine Smith continued from Intermission))
It didn't take long for Madeleine Smith to retrace her steps. She found the old road she started at pretty easily, though she really didn't know where to go from there. Sure, she knew the general direction that her friend had gone off, but that was more than useless to her at this point, given the time that had passed since then. So instead, the girl decided to follow along the road, perhaps looking for clues as to the whereabouts of Violet.
Maddy continued to walk until she reached another building, an area she presumed to be the sawmill according to her map. It was starting to get late, and Maddy couldn't remember the last time she got a decent night's sleep, so she entered the building, looking for a dark corner to curl up in. She managed to find somewhere out of sight of any doors or windows, quickly falling into a fitful sleep.
----
Madeleine woke up, her body sore from sleeping on the hard surface of the floor, and a headache from the sudden burst of static from the speaker just above her head. The voice came on shortly after, except this time it was a different voice. He still did the same job, listing off the names of the dead and all. Normally she wouldn't pay attention much other than to see if Violet or Anna were listed. Except this time was different.
Anna was listed. Among the names of those who had died in an apparent escape attempt, Anna Chase was there. Maddy... wasn't sure how she felt about this. She didn't really know Anna, but at the same time it felt like she had failed in her task of finding her. She couldn't help but feel a little upset at this notion.
At least Violet was still alive somewhere out there. She could still find her. At the moment though, she needed to wake up and get ready to move.
You'll Have To Excuse Me, I'm Not At My Best
Day 10, OPEN
You'll Have To Excuse Me, I'm Not At My Best
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Hallucinojelly†
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((Trent Savage continued from You Are On a Rock Floating Through Space))
Where was she?
He'd been right behind her, he- he'd been following her all the way from the lighthouse and now she- she'd gone.
"Josie!"
His clothes weighed him down, he needed to be lighter; faster. He kept on going, through the forests and the sand, in every direction he heard her voice. They were headed to the boats, but then they separated. He didn't even know when it happened - one minute he was looking through his bag, the next she'd disappeared, leaving him stranded, all alone once again.
He fell back, hit his head on the trunk of the tree he was leaning on. It hurt, but he'd felt worse.
Exhausted, he closed his eyes for a minute. He wasn't going to sleep, he just needed the rest; the dark inside his eyelids. Any movement that wasn't running, any sights that weren't blinding.
All those people on the announcements that had got away, only to die in the end. It was such an awful thought. He'd hardened though, he didn't care as much as he should have. Violet's name was missing, that was all he cared about. But then, why wasn't she there? Why wasn't she on the boat with the others, escaping? Maybe she didn't get there in time. Maybe she just missed the boats. They were lucky really, both missing them like that. Had Trent got there, well, he wasn't sure what would've happened. Would he be out there now, all body parts in the sea, like the others? Or would he have stayed behind? He couldn't imagine leaving without her, not after he'd been trying so hard to find her.
It was infuriating.
Ten whole days without a sight or a whisper, not even a flash of purple on the horizon.
He missed that colour.
Other girls in their year had coloured hair, sure, but none of them were as nice to look at. Everyone else's hair looked a little bit weird - a bit lame. Not hers though. Even when it was all dark after they'd been in the rain it still looked good to him. No-one else looked that good in the rain.
He'd thought Josie's hair was pretty nice though, when they were running. It swished about behind her, all coloured red and shining like a dancing fire.
And that's how he'd remember her, he thought suddenly.
Sunlight flickered above, through the leaves and the branches, speckling his face with light as he opened up his eyes and woke up to the realisation that was hanging overhead. The sun was higher now, much higher than it had been when he closed his eyes. His mouth tasted different too, and his body felt much heavier.
He felt around for his bag, starting to panic. He- oh good, it was still there. That was very, very good. That meant no-one had stopped by to reap him or his benefits. A breath; relief. Then he got to his feet, stretching and groaning all the while.
The area looked a little familiar, but he couldn't think why. If he'd been here before, it must've been while he was on his way to somewhere else. He scratched the back of his head. It felt good to scratch. He did it again, then moved his hand over to the other side. It sounded strange, when he thought about it. The sound of his own nails scraping away at his scalp, through his hair, through the dirt and the grease. Still good though. It was almost soothing, before he had to stop himself. He didn't want to get caught out in the open, grinning to himself like a dog as he scratched away his fleas. What would someone think?
He messed up the hair which he'd squashed by sleeping against the tree so it felt a tiny bit thicker, then grabbed his things.
Heading out, he spotted something through the trees. There seemed to be a clearing, with a building inside. Checking his map, he tried to work out roughly where he was, and more importantly, which building he was facing.
"The Sawmill..." He whispered, letting it play on the end of his tongue.
It seemed like a dangerous place to visit, especially here, on the island of death.
And yet, he couldn't help but wonder why his legs were already halfway there by the time he looked up from the map.
Where was she?
He'd been right behind her, he- he'd been following her all the way from the lighthouse and now she- she'd gone.
"Josie!"
His clothes weighed him down, he needed to be lighter; faster. He kept on going, through the forests and the sand, in every direction he heard her voice. They were headed to the boats, but then they separated. He didn't even know when it happened - one minute he was looking through his bag, the next she'd disappeared, leaving him stranded, all alone once again.
He fell back, hit his head on the trunk of the tree he was leaning on. It hurt, but he'd felt worse.
Exhausted, he closed his eyes for a minute. He wasn't going to sleep, he just needed the rest; the dark inside his eyelids. Any movement that wasn't running, any sights that weren't blinding.
All those people on the announcements that had got away, only to die in the end. It was such an awful thought. He'd hardened though, he didn't care as much as he should have. Violet's name was missing, that was all he cared about. But then, why wasn't she there? Why wasn't she on the boat with the others, escaping? Maybe she didn't get there in time. Maybe she just missed the boats. They were lucky really, both missing them like that. Had Trent got there, well, he wasn't sure what would've happened. Would he be out there now, all body parts in the sea, like the others? Or would he have stayed behind? He couldn't imagine leaving without her, not after he'd been trying so hard to find her.
It was infuriating.
Ten whole days without a sight or a whisper, not even a flash of purple on the horizon.
He missed that colour.
Other girls in their year had coloured hair, sure, but none of them were as nice to look at. Everyone else's hair looked a little bit weird - a bit lame. Not hers though. Even when it was all dark after they'd been in the rain it still looked good to him. No-one else looked that good in the rain.
He'd thought Josie's hair was pretty nice though, when they were running. It swished about behind her, all coloured red and shining like a dancing fire.
And that's how he'd remember her, he thought suddenly.
Sunlight flickered above, through the leaves and the branches, speckling his face with light as he opened up his eyes and woke up to the realisation that was hanging overhead. The sun was higher now, much higher than it had been when he closed his eyes. His mouth tasted different too, and his body felt much heavier.
He felt around for his bag, starting to panic. He- oh good, it was still there. That was very, very good. That meant no-one had stopped by to reap him or his benefits. A breath; relief. Then he got to his feet, stretching and groaning all the while.
The area looked a little familiar, but he couldn't think why. If he'd been here before, it must've been while he was on his way to somewhere else. He scratched the back of his head. It felt good to scratch. He did it again, then moved his hand over to the other side. It sounded strange, when he thought about it. The sound of his own nails scraping away at his scalp, through his hair, through the dirt and the grease. Still good though. It was almost soothing, before he had to stop himself. He didn't want to get caught out in the open, grinning to himself like a dog as he scratched away his fleas. What would someone think?
He messed up the hair which he'd squashed by sleeping against the tree so it felt a tiny bit thicker, then grabbed his things.
Heading out, he spotted something through the trees. There seemed to be a clearing, with a building inside. Checking his map, he tried to work out roughly where he was, and more importantly, which building he was facing.
"The Sawmill..." He whispered, letting it play on the end of his tongue.
It seemed like a dangerous place to visit, especially here, on the island of death.
And yet, he couldn't help but wonder why his legs were already halfway there by the time he looked up from the map.
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Maddy stretched, groaning as her muscles protested her choice of sleeping location. She had long since lost her toothbrush and paste, though she hadn't exactly used them when she did. For whatever reason on that particular morning she had the sudden urge to do so. Oh well, she would just have to live without again.
The girl's head snapped to the side suddenly, gripping her weapon in her right hand. She stood up quickly, her joints protesting once again at this sudden movement. She didn't pay them any attention, picking up her bag and briskly walking to the door she had entered. It was slightly ajar, which she had done intentionally in case a quick escape was necessary.
Pulling the door, it swung open for her with a loud creak. She looked outside, trying to find the source of the sound that had caught her attention. The bodies lay just as they were when she entered, something that would normally give her a bad feeling about an area, but at this point there wasn't a place to go where you wouldn't find a body. Cautiously, she moved out of the building, keeping her gun at the ready.
"W..Who's there?" she called out as best she could, her grip on the firearm tightening. She wasn't sure what she was about to face, but it probably wasn't going to be pleasant.
The girl's head snapped to the side suddenly, gripping her weapon in her right hand. She stood up quickly, her joints protesting once again at this sudden movement. She didn't pay them any attention, picking up her bag and briskly walking to the door she had entered. It was slightly ajar, which she had done intentionally in case a quick escape was necessary.
Pulling the door, it swung open for her with a loud creak. She looked outside, trying to find the source of the sound that had caught her attention. The bodies lay just as they were when she entered, something that would normally give her a bad feeling about an area, but at this point there wasn't a place to go where you wouldn't find a body. Cautiously, she moved out of the building, keeping her gun at the ready.
"W..Who's there?" she called out as best she could, her grip on the firearm tightening. She wasn't sure what she was about to face, but it probably wasn't going to be pleasant.
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(Stef is away and I'm about to go inactive so....)
Maddy stood in place and waited for something to happen, not daring to move a muscle.
Maddy stood in place and waited for something to happen, not daring to move a muscle.
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Hallucinojelly†
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And then there was a creaking, a girl who started speaking, as her gun beside her peeking, chased his thoughts so quickly shrieking, not ready for a fight and not ready to die here in the heart of the old sea king.
"It's me." He replied.
"Trent. From school, Trent Savage."
Though he wasn't in a position to judge her state both hygienically or mentally, he did have to ask himself how many people she must've killed with that gun, and whether or not she'd lost her appetite for blood in time for his arrival. Perhaps she'd let him go - it wasn't too big a deal. So he'd found her alone surrounded by the dead, though which of them she'd killed was anyone's guess, and yes, maybe he did look suspicious but surely she saw how helpless and lonely he looked, plastered with dirt and the grime of survival.
"Look," He began, "I don't want to fight. I just wanted a place to set down for the night. If it's alright by you, and I hope that it is, maybe we can talk and team up, or something, not this." Nodding at the weapon that sat in her hands, armed and awaiting the small girl's commands.
"Please, I don't want to die. Not here, not like this, just believe me, I-"
He paused, looking for the right words to say.
"Honestly, I think we can do this, okay?"
"It's me." He replied.
"Trent. From school, Trent Savage."
Though he wasn't in a position to judge her state both hygienically or mentally, he did have to ask himself how many people she must've killed with that gun, and whether or not she'd lost her appetite for blood in time for his arrival. Perhaps she'd let him go - it wasn't too big a deal. So he'd found her alone surrounded by the dead, though which of them she'd killed was anyone's guess, and yes, maybe he did look suspicious but surely she saw how helpless and lonely he looked, plastered with dirt and the grime of survival.
"Look," He began, "I don't want to fight. I just wanted a place to set down for the night. If it's alright by you, and I hope that it is, maybe we can talk and team up, or something, not this." Nodding at the weapon that sat in her hands, armed and awaiting the small girl's commands.
"Please, I don't want to die. Not here, not like this, just believe me, I-"
He paused, looking for the right words to say.
"Honestly, I think we can do this, okay?"
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Maddy flinched slightly as someone spoke, her head turning in the direction of the voice. The boy looked familiar, even in the state he was in. Then he said his name. Trent Savage. That was why he seemed so familiar. He was friends with Violet. Good ones from what she remembered. Though why he was alone and not with her she didn't understand. Either way, it was the best lead she was going to have for awhile.
"Umm... hi." The girl managed to say. Not exactly the best greeting, but whatever. He didn't seem to be paying much attention, his focus seeming to be on the gun in her hand. She didn't make any moves to drop it, but at the same time didn't move it aggressively. The last thing she needed was to scare him off. Or worse.
"I'm n-not going to uh... hurt you." Yeah. That was convincing. Maddy shifted her weight from side to side, unsure of what to do next. Finally she just decided to come out with it and ask. "You're friends wi-with Violet? I-I've seen... you two uhh... together. At school." The girl nodded her head, as if to signify she was finished talking. Or something.
"Umm... hi." The girl managed to say. Not exactly the best greeting, but whatever. He didn't seem to be paying much attention, his focus seeming to be on the gun in her hand. She didn't make any moves to drop it, but at the same time didn't move it aggressively. The last thing she needed was to scare him off. Or worse.
"I'm n-not going to uh... hurt you." Yeah. That was convincing. Maddy shifted her weight from side to side, unsure of what to do next. Finally she just decided to come out with it and ask. "You're friends wi-with Violet? I-I've seen... you two uhh... together. At school." The girl nodded her head, as if to signify she was finished talking. Or something.
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Hallucinojelly†
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His guard dropped. This girl- what was her name? She knew Violet. It shouldn't have been surprising, but it struck a chord with him somehow. Outside of their little circle, nobody really took an interest in the four of them. They were just refugees of popularity, clinging together in the dark. So then, what did this make her? The girl with the machine gun? Was she an outcast too, desperately searching for someone- anyone she knew?
"Yeah. She's my friend. My best friend."
He looked past the girl, remembering Violet's face; picturing it in great detail. She was still out there somewhere, still alive like him. Fractured memories snuck into his eyes. There was fire, and a man. A great beast of a man wrapped in static and rage. Where had he seen this man before? Why did his voice contort and bend, warping his words into noise? He seemed so important, like he had a message, a mission. The girl stepped into his line of sight. The look on her face told Trent that he'd been dreaming. A rapid blink of the eye. Two times. Three. A shake of the head.
"Sorry-" he blustered.
"I haven't seen her in so long. I just really need to find her. More than anythin' else. It's what she's doing right now - lookin' for me. And I've been so slow, so stupid. Dammit! I shouldn't be here wastin' time, I should be out there! Lookin' for her!"
His feet stomped the ground, his fingers dragged his skin across his face.
"But no! I'm here! Gettin' questions and guns thrown at me! And- who the fuck are you, anyway? I don't even remember you! I bet Violet doesn't either!"
"Yeah. She's my friend. My best friend."
He looked past the girl, remembering Violet's face; picturing it in great detail. She was still out there somewhere, still alive like him. Fractured memories snuck into his eyes. There was fire, and a man. A great beast of a man wrapped in static and rage. Where had he seen this man before? Why did his voice contort and bend, warping his words into noise? He seemed so important, like he had a message, a mission. The girl stepped into his line of sight. The look on her face told Trent that he'd been dreaming. A rapid blink of the eye. Two times. Three. A shake of the head.
"Sorry-" he blustered.
"I haven't seen her in so long. I just really need to find her. More than anythin' else. It's what she's doing right now - lookin' for me. And I've been so slow, so stupid. Dammit! I shouldn't be here wastin' time, I should be out there! Lookin' for her!"
His feet stomped the ground, his fingers dragged his skin across his face.
"But no! I'm here! Gettin' questions and guns thrown at me! And- who the fuck are you, anyway? I don't even remember you! I bet Violet doesn't either!"
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Things started out fine, up until Trent started throwing his little tantrum. In a normal situation, Maddy might have just walked away from him and let him make a fool of himself. Of course, this was far from a normal situation. If she tried to do that he might attack her or something like that. Best course of action right now was to stand her ground and hope things could work out.
"I.." She was never very good at defending herself when accused of something. No better time to start really. "W-we met at... the bowling al-alley. And while we were here." Maddy brought back the scene in her mind from the first day. They hadn't exactly left on the best of terms.
"We got uh... separated. After we were attacked. I've been lo-looking for her since." The girl had a feeling that including the fact she had killed someone wouldn't help her cause any. "S-so yeah, we're friends and.... umm, I'm pretty sure she remembers m-me!" Her voice raised a bit more than she intended at the end, but it was too late to take it back now. She kept her grip on her weapon, just in case things went wrong.
"I.." She was never very good at defending herself when accused of something. No better time to start really. "W-we met at... the bowling al-alley. And while we were here." Maddy brought back the scene in her mind from the first day. They hadn't exactly left on the best of terms.
"We got uh... separated. After we were attacked. I've been lo-looking for her since." The girl had a feeling that including the fact she had killed someone wouldn't help her cause any. "S-so yeah, we're friends and.... umm, I'm pretty sure she remembers m-me!" Her voice raised a bit more than she intended at the end, but it was too late to take it back now. She kept her grip on her weapon, just in case things went wrong.
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Hallucinojelly†
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"The bowlin' alley?"
The place he and Violet spent so much time together? Where Ray would come along too, and pay for their games? Where they made fun of Mr.S as he tried to get a drunk customer to settle down? Where they watched a group of bikers score a perfect game? Where they celebrated his birthday, and almost got into a fight with another family over the use of the only 12-ball in their lane?
Yeah, he knew where she meant. What he didn't know, was that it'd meant more to him than it had to Violet. That she'd been hanging out there without him; that she'd made other plans when he thought she would've rather gone home than spend a night there without him.
And she'd done the same here. Who was this girl? Why had she found Violet first? Why were they such good friends? It burnt him up - made him angrier than he had already been. This whole time he'd been looking for her, suffered while his other friends had died because of him, and travelled the island alone and afraid, knowing that every time the announcements played he might hear her name among the lists of the dead. Every day it hurt to listen, to think, to move, but he'd kept on going because somewhere out there that brilliant, beautiful girl needed him, and that thought, that hope, had driven him on.
So for this girl to stand here, and tell him that she was Violet's friend too, that she thought finding her was her job, it set off something inside that he'd always assumed was never there.
"Well she doesn't! Okay?! She doesn't! She's never even told me about you before - not once! Not when we went to prom together, not when we paired up on the bus to this fuckin' place, never!"
He pointed at her, shaking, violent-
"So don't stand there and tell me that you're friends, like you have been your whole life, because you haven't. So you hung out at the bowlin' alley, whatever, so you found her once already, whatever, you're not her friend, got that? Not like I am! Not- not like she is to me."
His eyes burned through her own, staring her down as he closed in.
"You're nothin' to her, understand?"
Too close now, hitting her with his voice.
"You're just the latest in a long line of bitches from school, tryin' to take her away from me."
The place he and Violet spent so much time together? Where Ray would come along too, and pay for their games? Where they made fun of Mr.S as he tried to get a drunk customer to settle down? Where they watched a group of bikers score a perfect game? Where they celebrated his birthday, and almost got into a fight with another family over the use of the only 12-ball in their lane?
Yeah, he knew where she meant. What he didn't know, was that it'd meant more to him than it had to Violet. That she'd been hanging out there without him; that she'd made other plans when he thought she would've rather gone home than spend a night there without him.
And she'd done the same here. Who was this girl? Why had she found Violet first? Why were they such good friends? It burnt him up - made him angrier than he had already been. This whole time he'd been looking for her, suffered while his other friends had died because of him, and travelled the island alone and afraid, knowing that every time the announcements played he might hear her name among the lists of the dead. Every day it hurt to listen, to think, to move, but he'd kept on going because somewhere out there that brilliant, beautiful girl needed him, and that thought, that hope, had driven him on.
So for this girl to stand here, and tell him that she was Violet's friend too, that she thought finding her was her job, it set off something inside that he'd always assumed was never there.
"Well she doesn't! Okay?! She doesn't! She's never even told me about you before - not once! Not when we went to prom together, not when we paired up on the bus to this fuckin' place, never!"
He pointed at her, shaking, violent-
"So don't stand there and tell me that you're friends, like you have been your whole life, because you haven't. So you hung out at the bowlin' alley, whatever, so you found her once already, whatever, you're not her friend, got that? Not like I am! Not- not like she is to me."
His eyes burned through her own, staring her down as he closed in.
"You're nothin' to her, understand?"
Too close now, hitting her with his voice.
"You're just the latest in a long line of bitches from school, tryin' to take her away from me."
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The boy was getting angry, his voice raising with each sentence. Maddy just stood there, letting him say what he needed to say, waiting for him to finish. She was getting upset over his accusations, but she couldn't get a word in edgeways even if she tried.
Finally he stopped, and Maddy knew this was her chance to strike back. "Y-you think she tells you everything in her life?!" it was times like this, when she was truly upset, that she managed to talk clearly. "You think she doesn't have friends other than you? People she doesn't tell you about? that you know every waking moment of her life?"
Maddy was shaking now, her anger starting to get the better of her. "Maybe you're not as important to her as you think you are! Maybe she hides things from you, that she doesn't trust you as much as you think she does! Or maybe the reason you haven't found her yet is because she's afraid that you'll do something stupid, kind of like yelling and bitching about how someone dare be her friend without your knowledge!"
Maddy took a deep breath, trying to contain her rage. It wasn't doing a very good job.
"Maybe she'd be better off if she didn't have to worry about friends like you!"
Finally he stopped, and Maddy knew this was her chance to strike back. "Y-you think she tells you everything in her life?!" it was times like this, when she was truly upset, that she managed to talk clearly. "You think she doesn't have friends other than you? People she doesn't tell you about? that you know every waking moment of her life?"
Maddy was shaking now, her anger starting to get the better of her. "Maybe you're not as important to her as you think you are! Maybe she hides things from you, that she doesn't trust you as much as you think she does! Or maybe the reason you haven't found her yet is because she's afraid that you'll do something stupid, kind of like yelling and bitching about how someone dare be her friend without your knowledge!"
Maddy took a deep breath, trying to contain her rage. It wasn't doing a very good job.
"Maybe she'd be better off if she didn't have to worry about friends like you!"
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Hallucinojelly†
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He fell back. Maddy seemed bigger now, and her voice- was that how he sounded?
His teeth clenched together, behind a face of defeat.
This wasn't how winning was supposed to feel. When was it his turn to get one up on someone else? Why was she allowed to be right?
That gun was still in her hands, still staring at him, still locked on to his position. And then it clicked; he had the higher ground. He could make her feel small again, like he felt now. Just this once, he could be the moral one - the one they'd see on TV and say, "Hey, that bitch deserved it, he wasn't even armed!". Yeah, that sounded good. Didn't it? Yeah. It did.
"Friends like me, huh?"
Steps forward, shoulders back, chest out.
"Funny, Violet's never been a big fan of guns. Guess she never told you that though. S'probably a lot of things she hasn't told you, but hey, sure, you're her "friend", right? It doesn't matter if she doesn't tell you some things, just like it doesn't matter if she doesn't tell me a few things. It doesn't matter that we've spent years together, practically insep'rable, 'cause yeah, we have, but that's cool, 'cause you're her friend too. We're both her good friends. Her best ones in the whole wide world, aren't we? 'Cause that's what we are, man, we're both friends too. Friends of a very close friend, that we can both share, just the two of us. How's that sound? You okay with that? Being almost best friends ourselves? Being co-best friends? Friends-in-law, yeah? 'Cause that's what we are, right? We're both such good-"
-he grabbed the gun-
"-fuckin'-"
-tried to pry it from her hands-
"-FRIENDS!"
His teeth clenched together, behind a face of defeat.
This wasn't how winning was supposed to feel. When was it his turn to get one up on someone else? Why was she allowed to be right?
That gun was still in her hands, still staring at him, still locked on to his position. And then it clicked; he had the higher ground. He could make her feel small again, like he felt now. Just this once, he could be the moral one - the one they'd see on TV and say, "Hey, that bitch deserved it, he wasn't even armed!". Yeah, that sounded good. Didn't it? Yeah. It did.
"Friends like me, huh?"
Steps forward, shoulders back, chest out.
"Funny, Violet's never been a big fan of guns. Guess she never told you that though. S'probably a lot of things she hasn't told you, but hey, sure, you're her "friend", right? It doesn't matter if she doesn't tell you some things, just like it doesn't matter if she doesn't tell me a few things. It doesn't matter that we've spent years together, practically insep'rable, 'cause yeah, we have, but that's cool, 'cause you're her friend too. We're both her good friends. Her best ones in the whole wide world, aren't we? 'Cause that's what we are, man, we're both friends too. Friends of a very close friend, that we can both share, just the two of us. How's that sound? You okay with that? Being almost best friends ourselves? Being co-best friends? Friends-in-law, yeah? 'Cause that's what we are, right? We're both such good-"
-he grabbed the gun-
"-fuckin'-"
-tried to pry it from her hands-
"-FRIENDS!"
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Everything happened so fast. Maddy didn't say anything throughout Trent's little rant, keeping her eyes on him and her hands on her weapon. Which of course, was the boy's apparent target. Mid-speech he lunged for her weapon, grabbing it and trying to yank it out of her hands. Maddy managed to resist this, keeping her grip on her weapon, and pulled back against him.
Of course, her finger was still on the trigger.
Maddy felt her arms vibrate and her eardrums felt like they were about to burst as a trio of shots rang out in the space. It took her a moment to even register the aftermath. The splatter of moisture on her face, the blood flowing from the trio of holes that now resided in Trent's stomach. Maddy wanted to say something, to say sorry and she didn't mean it and ask if he was going to be okay and oh god he was still bleeding she should help him but what could she do?
So she ran.
((Madeleine Smith continued in Don't Let The Bedbugs Bite))
Of course, her finger was still on the trigger.
Maddy felt her arms vibrate and her eardrums felt like they were about to burst as a trio of shots rang out in the space. It took her a moment to even register the aftermath. The splatter of moisture on her face, the blood flowing from the trio of holes that now resided in Trent's stomach. Maddy wanted to say something, to say sorry and she didn't mean it and ask if he was going to be okay and oh god he was still bleeding she should help him but what could she do?
So she ran.
((Madeleine Smith continued in Don't Let The Bedbugs Bite))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Rocky.
-
Hallucinojelly†
- Posts: 133
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 6:17 am
And as she ran, trailing casings and blood, Trent fell back, with a cry and a thud.
----
The sky sank down, consuming his sight - blues turning black, much blacker than night.
----
His lips curved around into shuddering frames, breaths coming quickly, sounding like names.
----
A wish, a desire, to soldier on, to see that face, to hear their song.
----
Love, it was said, would tear them apart, which couldn't be true, when theirs didn't start.
----
As thoughts and feelings began to subside, he wondered if this was how everyone died.
----
Alone and afraid, with one last regret, and a lifetime of chances he'll now never get.
----
And for more than one reason, he was truly upset;
As his vision grew dark, and his heartbeat desisted,
He thought
B044: TRENT SAVAGE: DECEASED
----
The sky sank down, consuming his sight - blues turning black, much blacker than night.
----
His lips curved around into shuddering frames, breaths coming quickly, sounding like names.
----
A wish, a desire, to soldier on, to see that face, to hear their song.
----
Love, it was said, would tear them apart, which couldn't be true, when theirs didn't start.
----
As thoughts and feelings began to subside, he wondered if this was how everyone died.
----
Alone and afraid, with one last regret, and a lifetime of chances he'll now never get.
----
And for more than one reason, he was truly upset;
As his vision grew dark, and his heartbeat desisted,
He thought
he saw
a flash
of purple.
----B044: TRENT SAVAGE: DECEASED
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Hallucinojelly. 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.
((Violet Druce, continued from A Day Spent Believing.))
"Trent!"
No.
No.
No.
She couldn't-
This couldn't-
He couldn't-
Violet Druce's legs came to a crashing halt about a second before the rest of her body. Her knees fell to the ground besides him, her hands felt skin- still warm- then cloth, then the warmth of the blood on her fingers. Dark red stains, seeping through his gray t-shirt.
Her tears welling up, streaming down her face. Burning. Ear to the mouth. He wasn't breathing. No. Fingers to the neck. No pulse. There was so much they could have done, seen. He couldn't be gone. Not like this, not before they got a chance to meet.
Violet choked back her tears. She was desperate, now. She could feel her heart pounding in her head. She laid her hands, bloody and dirty, on his chest. Just like the movies. She pushed down on his chest, again and again, on the heart that would never beat again. She pushed her mouth against his and breathed into the lungs that would never draw another breath. She was doing it wrong, even she knew that, but she clung onto the desperate last hope of Trent coming back. Her hands pressed down on the lifeless body. The crack, unbeknownst to Violet, of his rib breaking. She stopped, and sobbed.
She hit his chest one final time. He had to open his eyes. Something would happen and they'd be fine and they'd go and live happily ever after, and Mike would come back on the boat and they could both go back home. Trent wasn't going to die here, he wasn't going to be just another body on the pile.
She wasn't going to have to do this on her own.
"Stop it," She choked between sobs. "Stop it, Trent."
There was no reply.
She sat there, at his side, sobbing for what felt like hours, until she couldn't cry any more. Then, silence. Terrible, horrible silence.
She didn't know how long she was sat there for. The sun rose. The Announcement came and went. She didn't hear this place on the announcement, but she wanted to leave. Her eyes felt heavy, she felt hungry. She wiped the tears from her face.
Slowly, painfully, Violet got to her feet. Was his bag around? Not the duffel bag she'd rifled through days ago, the one he'd been assigned. After 10 days, Violet was running low on food, and- She pushed that thought to the back of her head. She owed him more than graverobbing. He meant more to her than that.
She said one final goodbye to Trent, turned around, and slowly started walking away. The day spent cold, alone, in the lighthouse felt meaningless now. She was colder now, and the island had taken away the last person she could turn to. Maddy had taken him away.
Trent and Hilary were gone and there was nothing she could do about. The walls were closing in and the last few students were being herded in. They'd be desperate, she'd heard just how many had killed now, but Leila was still out there, somewhere. Violet needed to find her.
But Mike and the others were safe, she knew that, and that would keep her going, for now.
((Violet Druce, continued in Friends Departed.))
"Trent!"
No.
No.
No.
She couldn't-
This couldn't-
He couldn't-
Violet Druce's legs came to a crashing halt about a second before the rest of her body. Her knees fell to the ground besides him, her hands felt skin- still warm- then cloth, then the warmth of the blood on her fingers. Dark red stains, seeping through his gray t-shirt.
Her tears welling up, streaming down her face. Burning. Ear to the mouth. He wasn't breathing. No. Fingers to the neck. No pulse. There was so much they could have done, seen. He couldn't be gone. Not like this, not before they got a chance to meet.
Violet choked back her tears. She was desperate, now. She could feel her heart pounding in her head. She laid her hands, bloody and dirty, on his chest. Just like the movies. She pushed down on his chest, again and again, on the heart that would never beat again. She pushed her mouth against his and breathed into the lungs that would never draw another breath. She was doing it wrong, even she knew that, but she clung onto the desperate last hope of Trent coming back. Her hands pressed down on the lifeless body. The crack, unbeknownst to Violet, of his rib breaking. She stopped, and sobbed.
She hit his chest one final time. He had to open his eyes. Something would happen and they'd be fine and they'd go and live happily ever after, and Mike would come back on the boat and they could both go back home. Trent wasn't going to die here, he wasn't going to be just another body on the pile.
She wasn't going to have to do this on her own.
"Stop it," She choked between sobs. "Stop it, Trent."
There was no reply.
She sat there, at his side, sobbing for what felt like hours, until she couldn't cry any more. Then, silence. Terrible, horrible silence.
She didn't know how long she was sat there for. The sun rose. The Announcement came and went. She didn't hear this place on the announcement, but she wanted to leave. Her eyes felt heavy, she felt hungry. She wiped the tears from her face.
Slowly, painfully, Violet got to her feet. Was his bag around? Not the duffel bag she'd rifled through days ago, the one he'd been assigned. After 10 days, Violet was running low on food, and- She pushed that thought to the back of her head. She owed him more than graverobbing. He meant more to her than that.
She said one final goodbye to Trent, turned around, and slowly started walking away. The day spent cold, alone, in the lighthouse felt meaningless now. She was colder now, and the island had taken away the last person she could turn to. Maddy had taken him away.
Trent and Hilary were gone and there was nothing she could do about. The walls were closing in and the last few students were being herded in. They'd be desperate, she'd heard just how many had killed now, but Leila was still out there, somewhere. Violet needed to find her.
But Mike and the others were safe, she knew that, and that would keep her going, for now.
((Violet Druce, continued in Friends Departed.))
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