The Dead Ought Sleep Forever

[Megami†]

((Wanda's death rights were never given to anyone.  I'm taking care of that now.))

Sera Wingfield was many things in the small town of Denton, New Jersey.  She was a fashionista, she was a member of the Sisterhood, she was a sister, a daughter, a granddaughter, a companion.  Sera was an individual who seemed to relish in the fear and mental anguish of those around her.  Now, in this place, the tables had been turned drastically, and Sera had known only one thing since her awakening sometime prior.  Fear.

Since having awakened on the island some hours ago, Sera had known that sole emotion.  She had run and run, seeming never to go anywhere in the process.  Each step she took, each second that passed by had instilled still more fear into the normally dauntless blonde girl, and now, in this broken and ashen place, she finally stopped, just for a moment, to rest.

Light breaths escaped trembling lips as Sera crept closer and closer to the once monolithic structure that was once the mansion of the man who controlled this island.  In a way, the pile of rock and ash was almost symbolic of the degression the island had taken since its peak.  Stopping momentarily to gape at the ruin, the blonde-headed girl who had been so very vocal in a past that no longer existed for once stood silent.  Sera's eyes traced the ruin, her ears strained to hear the sound of faint footsteps, or breathing, or any sort of indication that she wasn't alone.

Except for the occassional cawing of the surrounding birds, there was none.

Sera sighed in relief.  Even for just that moment, the fear that had consumed her since her waking moments all but left her.  Hesitantly, she entered the sanctity of the ruin, and the sorched ground that lay beneath.  It was only when her vision fell to the ground below did she see it... the huddled mass leaning up against the foundations of the broken-down building.  A gasp escaped Sera's lips as she stared, almost in awe, at the body before her.  Something told her that the fear that had been instilled in her should once again kick in, that she should flee the scene.

However, curiosity decided to play a cruel mistress to Sera Wingfield.  It was all so surreal.  The corpse itself seemed like nothing but a plastic dummy carefully crafted and placed in position just so.  Sera drew closer and closer to the corpse before she finally recognized the remnants of the face.  The girl was Wanda Lovett, fellow Bathurstian.  Tightly grasped in her cold, clammy hands and splattered with blood from the obvious explosion that had taken the majority of Wanda's neck, a piece of paper lay.

Hm?

It was almost like Sera's body was moving of its own accord.  The blonde reached down and pried the piece of paper from the British transfer student's hands, her eyes scowering the note up and down skeptically.  On the blood-stained piece of paper, Wanda Lovett had written her final words to the world.  How does one feel right before they die?  Wanda had confessed her thoughts on paper for Sera Wingfield to see.

To whom it may concern:

My name is Wanda Lovett, and I'm a transfer student to Bathurst High School... or at least, I used to be.  If you're reading this, that means that I've actually gone through with the actions I have sworn to take, and that I, like so many others, will have conquered this program in death.  I won't give in to the demands of common terrorists, and I won't play this game.  I won't sully my hands with the blood of others, and I'll not defile myself by making myself into a murderer.

However, unlike others out there, I know that there is no way out of this game.  It's foolish to think that common teenagers could defeat a foe much more powerful than we are.  This is simply a high-stakes game of cat and mouse, and it's one of which I refuse to partake.  So, to those who knew me, and even those who didn't, know that I left this game as pure and untainted as the moment in which I entered it.

After much pondering on my part, I have decided to detonate my own collar.  I won't sit here and rot, nor will I be gunned down by the hand of one of my fellow students, nor will I be murdered in cold blood by a faceless person a thousand miles away.  I'll die by my own hand, in the only act of independence I'm capable of executing on this island.  If you're reading this, then congratulations on living this long.  Simply know that I could not play this game, and so instead have taken the liberty of eliminating myself from it.  I wish you the best of luck in your endeavor, perhaps it will be more successful than mine.

Fondest Wishes,
Wanda Lovett

Despite the text scrawled in almost elegant handwriting across the page, the realities of the game still hadn't fully set in for Sera Wingfield.  The past few hours had seen her running on purely primal instincts, knowing only to run and never look back.  Despite all the running Sera would do in this game, it would inevitably lead her down the road to ruin.  At this point, however, the blonde wasn't considering that factor.  The corpse of Wanda Lovett had confirmed that this nightmare was a reality.  It had also confirmed something very important for her: the other students from Bathurst were here as well.  That meant only one thing.

It was time to find the Sisterhood girls, regroup, and try to survive.

((Sera continued in: Silence and Solitude))