Dan Birch

let's see about this one...

The former inhabitants of the island seem to have been rushed from their homes in a hurry. Houses within the residential area are still filled with goodies and still hold a uniform and up-kept appearance. The rows of brick houses beg for a bit of chaos that the oncoming battles are bound to provide.
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baby_g†
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Dan Birch

#1

Post by baby_g† »

Awaken by noises all around him, Dan stretched his arm wide and yawned.

Haven't had a sleep that good since rehab... He thought to himself.

He couldn't say that he was thrilled to be here, yet in another way, he wasn't at all very mad about it either. This was something that only he could dream of, a way to take out his anger. In a way he could picture each person as his dad and take out all his agression on them.
Dan wasn't one to give up easy, so taking up his duffle bag, he began thinking of how he could do this.

Looking around, he smelled a scent that reminded him of home. Though he couldn't explain it, he knew what it reminded him of.
"You're worthless you stupid son of a bitch." Dan rubbed his check. That was the first time his dad ever hit him after the divorce from his mother. He could remember every word his dad told up over the years, and everything about this 'game' he was thown into reminded him of all the hate he had for his father.

He remembered his mom. How innocent she was. She used to tell Dan that he was her favourite person in the word because he was the only one who treated her like his Mother. Dan's brother and sister felt embarassed for their mother and always went to their friends house so they wouldn't have to explain why the lady in the wheelchair had brusies all over her face.

Dan missed his mom so much. The last attack from his father directed at her was when he threw the ash tray at her face. Sitting no more than 10 feet away from them, he saw how he blood covered so much of her face you could barely see her beautiful eyes. Her nose was broken along with her cheek bones and she was almost unreconizable after that.

After they moved, Dan stopped hearing 'I love you', 'You're my favourite', mainly because those words were replaced with, 'Shut the fuck up, and stop crying.' Or his personal favourite, 'If I knew I could get away with it, I'd fucking kill you boy.'

Getting up, Dan kept his tears inside. He couldn't coward down. He had a job to do and that was to get through this. He stiffened his shoulders and began to walk while shifting through his bag. Besides the basics, he noticed what was obviously his weapon. A series of sticks that looked as if they were to be attacted, along with a long blade to be put at the end.

Dan stopped. He assembled the long knife stick thing and carried it at his side.

He was ready.
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Cyco†
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#2

Post by Cyco† »

((continued from The Very Basic Will to Live))

Bryan was in a bad mood. He'd let two kills get away, and had been forced into a stalemate by someone with a much better weapon than his. Not that the SPAS-12 wasn't great...just, it left a couple things to be desired. Range, for instance. He had been at a severe disadvantage fighting someone equipped with an SMG in a big, open area; should've realized that from the beginning. But hey, he'd gotten away without a scratch, even after making a few rookie mistakes. He'd wasted a couple shots, albeit; he only had so many.

He came upon a low-lying residential district. That bastard Wilson had said that the people living here had been evacuated, so there could be some useful items left behind inside the houses. They might not even be locked, if they had to get out in a hurry. Besides, he could just smash a window if he wanted to get in. What were they gonna do, call the cops? He looked around the vacant street, and found himself uncomfortable being in such an open area. There could be someone lurking on the next street, or in a window, or under a porch, or in the fucking chimbeny or something. Bryan decided to go check one of the houses out. But which one?

"Eenie...meenie...miney...mo."

There was a chance that another player could already have occupied the small house. He approached his randomly chosen destination slowly, raising the shotgun and surveying the area. If anything so much as moved, he'd blow it's fucking head off. He wasn't in a good position here; someone could be looking out the window at him right now. They could be just waiting for him to walk in. 'Fuck it.' Bryan was tired of being so cautious and overanalyzing. He was acting like a faggot; he had a shotgun, for chrissake. His confidence had lessened during his previous altercation, but he felt it grow again.

'Just an off-start, is all,' he thought, wrinkling his nose. 'Gotta get back on the horse.' With that, he marched up the wooden porch and right up to the door and was about to grab the knob when suddenly it began to turn. He only had a split-second to react; the moment the door opened inward he threw his hefty steel-toed boot into a front pushkick, aiming to knock whoever it was right back inside.
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baby_g†
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#3

Post by baby_g† »

thrown backward into a wall and almost back into his unconcious state from before, Dan scrabled in his head what just happened. Rolling over on his side, clutching his stomache, He looked up and saw his enemy.

"What the fuck man?!" He yelled still holding his gut.

Slowly he got up, trying to keep on his feet, it was then he noticed his weapon was knocked out of his hand by the force of the blow. He saw it, it was right there. right, that is, next to 'him'. He looked at his spear, then up at the boy and back down to where his only defence he had lay.

He Jumped. Though every inch of him ached when he landed, he grabbed the stick, rolled over, held it up and now knelled within 5 feet of his new enemy. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the shot gun. This ment deep shit for him. Without really thinking, Dan swung his blade at lad's hand.

Dan went from being scared to just plan pissed off. Something else was taking over him now. Not just his knowlegde to hit back if hit, it was his instinct to want to live
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#4

Post by Cyco† »

Bryan's first thought as his enemy hit the wall was to pull the trigger and send him to hell. He was in the middle of lifting the shotgun to chest level to blow the fucker away when all of a sudden he rolled to the side and grabbed some kind of spear, lunging at him with it.

'Shit--!' Bryan was just barely able to throw the solid SPAS-12 up to parry the oblique arc of the slash, but as it slid up the barrel he was unable to move his left hand out of the way, and it sliced the back of his hand open deep as it ascended towards the ceiling. Bryan cursed audibly and backed up into a table in the corner, blood ebbing slowly from the wound.
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#5

Post by baby_g† »

After the guy backed toward the table, Dan saw this as his time to strike. He ran toward him blade forward. As he swung downward toward him, only to get the blasted thing stuck in the table, thanks to the idiot moving out of the way.

"Fuck!!" Dan yelled.

He could see it now.. he couldn't count on his blade anymore.. it was gone. Despretely he raked his brain for an idea to get out of this mess. He could jump out a window, run for the door, beg for mercy... Dan could tell begging for mercy was out of the question. The guy had a look that made it clear that he wasn't getting out this alive.
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Cyco†
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#6

Post by Cyco† »

The fucker struck again, this time with a downward slash. Bryan couldn't step back out of the way, but thankfully something possessed him to throw himself to the left just as the spear came down, burying the blade in the edge of the table. The stranger tugged at his weapon for a second and he saw an opportunity he had to take.

The polearm was just low enough for Bryan to lift his leg swiftly and bring his heel down upon the shaft of it with all his might, snapping the wood in half with one heavy stomp. His opponent was left with about 3 feet of sharp, wooden stick.
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#7

Post by baby_g† »

It was obvious that Dan didn't have much of a choice anymore. He was stuck with a sharp stick and his blade deep in a table top. Could he try and stab the guy? Could he beg?

Had he really come this far in life to die like this? With all the shit that's happened to him since he was young, did it all come down to this final moment.

When Dan was little, he'd play on the jungle gym at school, pretending he was a soldier, or a hero, saving the day. What has he saved? Nothing. He couldn't even save a bottle of Vodka for more than two days now that he thought of it.

Some how now, at this point in time, everything seemed to line up...

In a last attempt of desperation, Dan lunged in the boys direction, hoping to stab him with the stick. Even if the wound wasn't faital, it would give him time to escape.

This was it.
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#8

Post by Cyco† »

It certainly was.

Bryan had the shotgun raised at gut level already, anticipating another strike the moment the spear was broken. He clutched the SPAS-12 firmly, bracing for the heavy recoil to come, and squeezed the trigger just as the sonofabitch flew at him with the remnants of his weapon. The resounding boom of the shotgun filled the small house.
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#9

Post by baby_g† »

The blow hit him, and it hit him hard. It sent him barrelling into the wall behind him. The warm feeling of blood oozing out of his gut followed by the chill of the air was a feeling so incredibally erie, it was if death himself was standing right next to him. And he was.

Dan knew he himself was no longer a threat to the lad. The son of a bitch had put him on his death bed, and he didn't even know his name.

I bet the only regreat my dad has, is not being able to pull the trigger himself. He thought. Slowly he tried to raise his arm, as if to wave a wave of 'I give up', but every inch of his body ached to painfully, he couldn't even wipe away the tears that were now filling his eyes. Even the tears stung as they traced his cheeks and dripped on the ground. He was awkwardly laying on the ground, legs infront of him, neck cocked is if to purposely wanting to look into his wound.

If there was one thing he wished he could do, it was move his face away from the site of the mess.

And mrs. thought I didn't know what the human body was made up of... Clearly, those are my intestines... Oh god.

As much as he winced and struggled and tried to move, it was useless. Dan was going to die. There was no getting around it. There was nothing he could do. After all, isn't that what this game was all about? The bud was just protecting his own.

Finally, Dan, through blood covered eyes, looked up at the devil.

"I'm Dan."
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#10

Post by Cyco† »

Bryan pumped the barrel of the smoking shotgun, ejecting the empty shell. His opponent was sitting up against the wall, blood and entrails issuing from the gaping wound in his stomach. Bryan had never seen anything like it; it was as if his guts were trying to escape, coils of them sliding quickly to the floor and finally resting there in their own juices. Abandon ship!

Putting his weapon at ease (and trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his hand), he stepped slowly over to the boy, who said his name was Dan. Bryan was caught off guard, and raised an eyebrow. What was he getting at? The words died in the silence, and Bryan felt that he had to say something. Humour him at least. He was dying, after all.

"I'm Bryan." He surveyed the gruesome scene spattered against the wall, and was finally aware of just how powerful a weapon he had at his disposal. How quickly the one slight movement of one minor digit could spell the ruin of an entire body. He paused, trying to think of something profound to say that would bring closure to the boy's death. Justify Bryan's actions. Make this game make any more sense. He tried, and he failed.

"Sorry, Dan."
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#11

Post by baby_g† »

Dan tried to laughed the pain off, but even the slightest chuckle sent hot thick blood into this lungs and he began to cough and spit it everywhere.

"Bet there's someone you want to save eh, Bryan?"

What else could he say. So short had his life become.

"Don't be sorry, if...." His sentences became short now, interupted by desperate gasps for air. "if anything, you made.... it better. I drink...a lot." where am I going with this? "and maybe.... too much than I should. I hate my... my father, I hate my family.... everything.. lies... no. Thank you ... Bryan. I never thought... I was going to die this young... what's the difference if I throw in... the towel now?

Finally, going home

Dan looked at Bryan gratefully. He never thought he would be thanking someone for putting a fuckin hole in his stomache. The again, he never thought he'd want it to happen so bad. His pain began to go away, and his body, began going numb. A tingling sensation ran through his whole body and the quivering began.

Everything was flashing in his mind. Father, ash tray, crying mother, blood, moving trucks, screaming, school, people, the teachers, Flash Flash Flash, waking up, More screaming, More yelling, More blood.

"You're my favourite Dan, I love you." He could hear his mom so clearly is was as if she was right next to him. It was an evil trick to play on a dying boy, and how he wished he could have one last drink, one before he kicked the bucket. Slowly Dan closed his eyes, all the flash backs of horrible things were gone. Instead, he was 6 again, swinging on the jungle gym, running around with his old friends, he was a soldier saving the day, Dan was a hero.

Boy #29: Dan Birch -- DECEASED
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#12

Post by Cyco† »

Bryan stared at Dan's corpse. He'd only ever seen a dead body in person once, when his grandfather had passed away, at the hospital. He had been sombre. Dignified. Peaceful. Dan's body was in a frozen state, almost. Like it was a tableau of his very demise. It was difficult to look at, and Bryan found himself feeling uncomfortable as he rummaged through the dead boy's pack for extra food (a bit of which he consumed immediately), water (likewise), and the batteries from his flashlight. He glanced at the blade of the spear, still stuck in the edge of the table. There wasn't a whole lot of use for it while he had the shotgun, but it would probably come in handy eventually, right? It was nearly the size of a machete, for fuck's sake. He dislodged it with some effort from the table, and his hand flared up again as he did so.

'Shhhhhhhit...' Bryan looked over the deep cut stretching from the edge of his hand all the way across the back. "You got me good, Dan," he said to the corpse, who didn't respond. He had to hand it to him, he tried. He did try. That's how Bryan wanted to go.

Bryan grabbed the first aid kit from his bag and did what he could to treat his injury. He couldn't very well give himself stitches, but he could at least prevent infection. He shouldered the strap of the SPAS-12 and carried the box of medical goodies over to the kitchen, running cold (and foul-smelling) water over his hand, then using antisceptic and wrapping a bandage firmly around his hand. He figured he should probably make sure he could still use his fingers, so he applied it much like he would before a Muay Thai fight, the only way he knew how.

As he stood there, leading the white bandages between his fingers and around his hand, Bryan realized that he probably wasn't going to be the lucky individual to survive this ordeal. Most likely, he'd bite it fighting a more heavily-armed player. He was pretty high on the food chain, but if there were kids running around with shotguns and SMGs, there were probably ones with assault rifles or rocket launchers or something. The odds were against him; how many kids were playing this game anyway? He looked at his bandaged hand and moved his fingers around. That would do.

He gathered his newly topped-up supplies, taking a minute to restock his shoulderstrap and load another round into the SPAS-12. The box of 12-gauge ammo was nearly empty now. That was clever; you had to kill people and take their weapons to keep fighting. Bryan grabbed his fallen adversary's blade off of the table and stuck it in with the rest of the pilfered goods. He cast a glance at Dan's duffle bag, which lay untouched against the wall. 'Naw...' Then he slung the bag over his shoulder, held his shotgun at the ready, and decided it was best to leave. There was no time to loot houses like some criminal, not when Dan's words echoed in his head over and over.

"Bet there's someone you want to save eh, Bryan?"

((Continued in Hiding in the Barn))
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