((Micheal Raynor continued from Eep.))
Micheal was lost, and he hadn't even gone very far. The world here was all shades of grey and brown. To either side of the road were endless wastes of felled logs. He felt like maybe the textures could use an upgrade, seeing as they were pretty much all exactly the same, but he couldn't gripe about the lack of enemies popping from cover to gun him down. Yeah, this could be way worse. The only real issue was that there was nothing here. He'd lost the one person he could sort of count on. Distracting himself from that fact helped a little. It at least helped him stall his reaction.
And, hey, look, a truck. Okay, a truck with some bodies near it, but a truck nonetheless. Maybe he could just hop in and drive out of here. Turn the truck into his own personal fortress, mount a turret or something and have a rail shooter segment. Well, not really; the truck was sure to have been stripped of anything useful, but it was another thing to do, another distraction to make things more tolerable.
He tried to avoid looking at the bodies as he moved to the truck. The door was open. As he'd suspected, no keys. Nothing. Not even loose change in the seat cushions. Still, he could just take a little rest here. Just hang out for a little bit. Not think.
He hopped into the truck and just sat there, the door open, hoping nobody was hiding anywhere too close by.
Not Too Far Away
(Kitty Gittschall continued from In Honesty...)
Kitty had come to a conclusion. SotF was not a game per se but a a joke being played on her, a string of gags and disappointments that was surely intended to make people laugh. It made her blood boil. She could tell that the people who brought her here were laughing at her. Yes, they were all getting a kick out of how pathetic she looked. The voice of her friend kept telling her that this wasn't the case, that the men on the other side of the cameras did not care what happened to her. She knew this was a lie. Oh they knew. And they were getting a kick out of it.
Other than being extremely pissed, Kitty was exhausted. Not in the sense that she was ready to fall asleep. It was more in the sense that she was just tired of everything. A overwhelming sense of uselessness spread through her body and it left a nasty taste in her mouth. Kitty thought that it would be useful for her to get rid of this mood she was it. She had to be smart - her life was on the line after all - and start playing this game for real. Yet there was something holding her back. Was it Katherine? She was fucking around with her life. Where the fuck was she when she really needed her? When she was lonely and needed someone to talk to?! Nowhere, that's where! So that's where she should go! Katherine was never in the habit of listening.
That was the problem with your imaginary friends - they're very stubborn.
Kitty caught herself mumbling. Was she going crazy? No. She was just fine.
The path ahead was long but Kitty didn't have anywhere else to go. She trudged slowly, clinging to her bat just in case anyone else came out. Despite the initial alertness, Kitty was in a daze. Had someone leaped out, the little resistance she could have put up would have been crushed easily. There was a truck. Kitty didn't see anyone in there, though she would certainly be surprised if she had. Who would be inside of a dump like that?
"..."
She turned her head. She could have sworn she heard something. Snoring? On further inspection, she noticed that the door on the other side was wide open. She wandered over, held onto her bat as tightly as possible, and looked inside.
"..."
There was a voice in the back of Kitty's mind that she was frantically trying to ignore.
Kitty had come to a conclusion. SotF was not a game per se but a a joke being played on her, a string of gags and disappointments that was surely intended to make people laugh. It made her blood boil. She could tell that the people who brought her here were laughing at her. Yes, they were all getting a kick out of how pathetic she looked. The voice of her friend kept telling her that this wasn't the case, that the men on the other side of the cameras did not care what happened to her. She knew this was a lie. Oh they knew. And they were getting a kick out of it.
Other than being extremely pissed, Kitty was exhausted. Not in the sense that she was ready to fall asleep. It was more in the sense that she was just tired of everything. A overwhelming sense of uselessness spread through her body and it left a nasty taste in her mouth. Kitty thought that it would be useful for her to get rid of this mood she was it. She had to be smart - her life was on the line after all - and start playing this game for real. Yet there was something holding her back. Was it Katherine? She was fucking around with her life. Where the fuck was she when she really needed her? When she was lonely and needed someone to talk to?! Nowhere, that's where! So that's where she should go! Katherine was never in the habit of listening.
That was the problem with your imaginary friends - they're very stubborn.
Kitty caught herself mumbling. Was she going crazy? No. She was just fine.
The path ahead was long but Kitty didn't have anywhere else to go. She trudged slowly, clinging to her bat just in case anyone else came out. Despite the initial alertness, Kitty was in a daze. Had someone leaped out, the little resistance she could have put up would have been crushed easily. There was a truck. Kitty didn't see anyone in there, though she would certainly be surprised if she had. Who would be inside of a dump like that?
"..."
She turned her head. She could have sworn she heard something. Snoring? On further inspection, she noticed that the door on the other side was wide open. She wandered over, held onto her bat as tightly as possible, and looked inside.
"..."
There was a voice in the back of Kitty's mind that she was frantically trying to ignore.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Ciel. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
At some point, Micheal had entered a very light doze. It helped push the pain away. It wasn't the best move, all things considered, but he was sure he could wake up if he had to. Besides, sleep restored health, right? Okay, it was silly, but he could use a mental recharge.
He woke up as something crunched outside the truck. Quickly, he slid his hands into the Wolverine claws. If someone was out there, some classmate-turned adversary, he had to be ready to flee, and, failing that, to engage in CQC until he could extricate himself. Melee weapons were fine against guns at close range, right? He was pretty sure they were. Some even counted for one-hit kills.
So his eyes opened as a girl looked in at him.
A girl.
No gun visible.
He couldn't see much beyond her face. She didn't look to be in the greatest shape, but at least she didn't have a kill count painted in blood on her forehead.
"Uh," Micheal said. "Hi?"
He woke up as something crunched outside the truck. Quickly, he slid his hands into the Wolverine claws. If someone was out there, some classmate-turned adversary, he had to be ready to flee, and, failing that, to engage in CQC until he could extricate himself. Melee weapons were fine against guns at close range, right? He was pretty sure they were. Some even counted for one-hit kills.
So his eyes opened as a girl looked in at him.
A girl.
No gun visible.
He couldn't see much beyond her face. She didn't look to be in the greatest shape, but at least she didn't have a kill count painted in blood on her forehead.
"Uh," Micheal said. "Hi?"
Kitty could see the claws on his hand. A gun would have been more useful, but she wasn't going to complain. It appeared to her that the boy wasn't going to attack her, which made things easier for her. Of course the voice of her friend was trying to talk her out of this. So far it was working. Kitty could have dirtied herself the second she walked up to the truck. She was hesitating again. That wasn't good.
"You were asleep." Not a question, a statement.
It could be so easy. She was complicating it for no reason.
Kitty had the bat behind her back. She tried not to think about it. If she called attention to it, the boy would surely notice.
"I'm sorry," she apologized. She didn't sound very broken up about it. "I wasn't aware."
C'mon Kitty. This boy could easily kill you, couldn't he?
"You were asleep." Not a question, a statement.
It could be so easy. She was complicating it for no reason.
Kitty had the bat behind her back. She tried not to think about it. If she called attention to it, the boy would surely notice.
"I'm sorry," she apologized. She didn't sound very broken up about it. "I wasn't aware."
C'mon Kitty. This boy could easily kill you, couldn't he?
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Ciel. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
The girl seemed just a little bit creepy, just a little bit like she was about to go second-stage boss and rip Micheal's throat out, as she told him he'd been asleep. Uh, yeah, he knew that. It had been him doing the sleeping, after all. Was she trying to intimidate him? Trying to show mastery or something, with her astute grasp of facts?
It was working. As she gave her creepy little half apology thing, Micheal started backing up real quick, keeping the claws on his hands. He pressed against the door opposite the girl, trying to look non-threatening.
"Hey, uh, yeah, no problem," he said. "No harm done. I'll just, uh, I'll be going here and you can have this useful truck, use it as your spawn po—base, I mean, er, whatever."
He was fumbling around with one hand behind his back, trying to get the door to open, but the Wolverine claws weren't very good for actually doing anything with his fingers, so this wasn't a very smooth process.
It was working. As she gave her creepy little half apology thing, Micheal started backing up real quick, keeping the claws on his hands. He pressed against the door opposite the girl, trying to look non-threatening.
"Hey, uh, yeah, no problem," he said. "No harm done. I'll just, uh, I'll be going here and you can have this useful truck, use it as your spawn po—base, I mean, er, whatever."
He was fumbling around with one hand behind his back, trying to get the door to open, but the Wolverine claws weren't very good for actually doing anything with his fingers, so this wasn't a very smooth process.
Had Michael felt any creepy vibes from Kitty's acting, Kitty certainly did not notice. Moreover, it didn't click in her head that her act was creepy at all. She thought she was a perfectly good actor. She had a way with words, she could easily convince anyone about anything. She was good like that. And yet it didn't seem to be working on this boy. He was much too jumpy.
The way he was fumbling around made her huff. Really. It was as if he wanted her to know he was about to skitter away like a little rat. It was sad. She could have reassured him that she meant him no harm. Yes. Lure him into a trap, make him feel at home with her and bash him when he was least expecting. That was her plan with Anna Chase, the pathetic little worm, and despite having wanted her as more of a human shield (and the fact that her plan had failed miserably), she could see herself succeeding.
However, that's not what she did. She was impatient.
"He's trying to run. Just let him go. Please. You don't have to - "
Don't listen to her Kitty, she's trying to trick you. Draw the curtains Kitty. Hit the curtains, hit the head, let the blood spill, let it come. Do it. Swing god damn you. Swing. Kill him.
The bat came out, and everything else after that was easy.
"You're not doing yourself any favors." Kitty mumbled.
No more talking, no more pretend. Kitty was all too willing to keep up the charade, but she realized that it would not serve her any good. She lunged desperately. The boy was cornered, and while the space in the truck was limited it was enough for her to get in reasonably well. Enough room for a kill, not enough room to escape. She figured it was all too easy. The bat hit the glass as she leaped in, leaving a tiny crack. She was on her knees. She closed the gap, gripped the bat, studied.
A hit to the head, right to the temple. Was one hit to the head enough to kill someone? Perhaps she should aim for the neck. Snap it on one side. Or maybe she should keep hitting him until she was drawing blood, not caring where the bat landed. She was faintly disgusted. Thinking about the specifics of killing like that. How sickening. It shouldn't matter how. The only thing that mattered was that she could. Despite the rock-hard hesitation growing in her gut, she pulled back the bat, pain shooting through her bad arm like a wave of anguish. She didn't care about the pain, this was her moment. It was time. She swung with all of her might and aimed for the boy's temple.
Her mouth tasted of metal. She was biting down on her tongue.
The first one was always the hardest, they say. Kitty wondered if that were true.
The way he was fumbling around made her huff. Really. It was as if he wanted her to know he was about to skitter away like a little rat. It was sad. She could have reassured him that she meant him no harm. Yes. Lure him into a trap, make him feel at home with her and bash him when he was least expecting. That was her plan with Anna Chase, the pathetic little worm, and despite having wanted her as more of a human shield (and the fact that her plan had failed miserably), she could see herself succeeding.
However, that's not what she did. She was impatient.
"He's trying to run. Just let him go. Please. You don't have to - "
Don't listen to her Kitty, she's trying to trick you. Draw the curtains Kitty. Hit the curtains, hit the head, let the blood spill, let it come. Do it. Swing god damn you. Swing. Kill him.
The bat came out, and everything else after that was easy.
"You're not doing yourself any favors." Kitty mumbled.
No more talking, no more pretend. Kitty was all too willing to keep up the charade, but she realized that it would not serve her any good. She lunged desperately. The boy was cornered, and while the space in the truck was limited it was enough for her to get in reasonably well. Enough room for a kill, not enough room to escape. She figured it was all too easy. The bat hit the glass as she leaped in, leaving a tiny crack. She was on her knees. She closed the gap, gripped the bat, studied.
A hit to the head, right to the temple. Was one hit to the head enough to kill someone? Perhaps she should aim for the neck. Snap it on one side. Or maybe she should keep hitting him until she was drawing blood, not caring where the bat landed. She was faintly disgusted. Thinking about the specifics of killing like that. How sickening. It shouldn't matter how. The only thing that mattered was that she could. Despite the rock-hard hesitation growing in her gut, she pulled back the bat, pain shooting through her bad arm like a wave of anguish. She didn't care about the pain, this was her moment. It was time. She swung with all of her might and aimed for the boy's temple.
Her mouth tasted of metal. She was biting down on her tongue.
The first one was always the hardest, they say. Kitty wondered if that were true.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Ciel. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Whoa, look, a bat, coupled with some ominous mumbling. That was bad. That was really bad. Micheal was stuck in really close quarters too, so he didn't have any room to maneuver at all. He wiggled his fingers more desperately, trying to dislodge the claws. No dice. The girl was taking her time, stretching the couple of seconds painfully. This was just like a pre-boss cut scene. Yeah, okay, that was it. He could live with that. Everything was right about to snap back into normal speed here. The door would click open, he'd back out, she'd follow him, and they'd have an epic showdown before both limping away, vowing to meet again. That was the ticket.
Oh god. She was going to try to kill him.
He still was having no luck with the door.
Then, the girl struck. The moment slowed even further as Micheal raised his other hand, hoping to knock the blow off course. While time seemed to hardly be moving, it was still going faster than Micheal was. His eyes widened. His finger finally found the latch. The bat impacted his head, the crushing force behind it fracturing his skull, sending shards of bone into his brain.
The door swung open, and Micheal's body toppled out of the truck.
Game over.
B112, Micheal Raynor: DECEASED
Oh god. She was going to try to kill him.
He still was having no luck with the door.
Then, the girl struck. The moment slowed even further as Micheal raised his other hand, hoping to knock the blow off course. While time seemed to hardly be moving, it was still going faster than Micheal was. His eyes widened. His finger finally found the latch. The bat impacted his head, the crushing force behind it fracturing his skull, sending shards of bone into his brain.
The door swung open, and Micheal's body toppled out of the truck.
Game over.
B112, Micheal Raynor: DECEASED
And that
was that.
It had been so easy.
Too easy.
Kitty scrambled out of the door and looked down at the fallen body of Micheal Raynor. A boy she didn't even know the name of. She certainly didn't recognize him when she killed him. Of course, he couldn't be dead. She doubted how someone could be dead after a single blow to the head. It surprised her. And pissed her off just as much.
"Stop faking." She growled. She jabbed the body with her bat. The feminine voice in the back of her head was disappointed and Kitty did her best to push it away. She listened for a response. She didn't get one.
"Hey!" She screamed. She lifted the bat and hit the twisted corpse in the back. "Get up. Fight like a man!"
She hit it again. And again.
"Pissant little fuck! Stop playing possum! Get up!"
Another strike to the head. She felt the blood hit her face. She stopped. He was dead. Wasn't he? She had killed him with the first blow.
Kitty wheezed. She couldn't believe that. Her head was spinning. It was done. IT was over. She held her hand to her head. You hear that Katherine?! This is it, this is real! She isn't not going to fucking listen to you anymore! This is where it ends! She's serious about this! She's going to start playing. If you have a problem with it, then you can go screw yourself! Alright?! Playtime was over!
Silence.
Thank Christ. For the first time in days, it was silent.
Kitty sighed. She reached for the claws. She sneered. She was hoping for a gun, or at least something she could protect herself with! She let it go though. An unnatural calm passed through her body. She felt good. The weight on her shoulders was gone now. Everything would be fine. She threw the claws into her back, slung the bag over her shoulder and left.
(Kitty Gittschall continued in Sacrifice Sheep to GOD!)
was that.
It had been so easy.
Too easy.
Kitty scrambled out of the door and looked down at the fallen body of Micheal Raynor. A boy she didn't even know the name of. She certainly didn't recognize him when she killed him. Of course, he couldn't be dead. She doubted how someone could be dead after a single blow to the head. It surprised her. And pissed her off just as much.
"Stop faking." She growled. She jabbed the body with her bat. The feminine voice in the back of her head was disappointed and Kitty did her best to push it away. She listened for a response. She didn't get one.
"Hey!" She screamed. She lifted the bat and hit the twisted corpse in the back. "Get up. Fight like a man!"
She hit it again. And again.
"Pissant little fuck! Stop playing possum! Get up!"
Another strike to the head. She felt the blood hit her face. She stopped. He was dead. Wasn't he? She had killed him with the first blow.
Kitty wheezed. She couldn't believe that. Her head was spinning. It was done. IT was over. She held her hand to her head. You hear that Katherine?! This is it, this is real! She isn't not going to fucking listen to you anymore! This is where it ends! She's serious about this! She's going to start playing. If you have a problem with it, then you can go screw yourself! Alright?! Playtime was over!
Silence.
Thank Christ. For the first time in days, it was silent.
Kitty sighed. She reached for the claws. She sneered. She was hoping for a gun, or at least something she could protect herself with! She let it go though. An unnatural calm passed through her body. She felt good. The weight on her shoulders was gone now. Everything would be fine. She threw the claws into her back, slung the bag over her shoulder and left.
(Kitty Gittschall continued in Sacrifice Sheep to GOD!)
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Ciel. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.