The Science of Selling Yourself

[Ares]

((John continued from at Dawn))

John had abandoned the plan of going to the Storehouse being as the rain had intensified. He needed himself and his partner to be in the best shape they could on this island, and getting soaked to the bone wasn't going to help that cause. John could see a small building in the distance and made his way towards it.

"Come on! We're almost there." John hollered back to Emma.

John entered the chapel to the smell of fresh blood. It looked like the two had killed one another, and from the burn marks, one of the idiots had actually allowed his collar to be removed. John sifted through their weapons, but found nothing better than what he already had. He then took a couple of extra minutes to admire the scene.

"Truly remarkable," He whispered, "The lengths we go to survive. Though in this case, they both failed, but bless their hearts they tried."

The situation in front of him reminded Riz of a quote from one of his favourite movies.

'People don't always tell you what they are thinking. They just see to it that you don't advance in life.'

"So true, so true." He said with a smile as he made his way to the altar and sat down.

[dinah_shore†]

((continued from at Dawn))

The rain drove Emma and John into the nearby Chapel. Closing the door behind her, Emma noticed John sitting at the altar. She walked slowly towards him, her eyes continually finding their way to the spot where the crucifix ought to have been. She wondered if Danya took it down.

"Always trust God to help you find your way. Put your love and faith in Jesus and you can do anything."

That was something her mother told Emma often, especially when she was under a lot of stress. Her mother's faith in God was solid, and unshakable. Emma often admired her for her convictions but never felt like she was entirely sold on the idea. Faith was supposed to be an inner struggle, but Emma never really felt like she was struggling to believe. She just didn't.

"Put your faith in Jesus..."

She wondered if he mother would feel the same way towards the Lord after watching her daughter fight for survival on public television. Unwillingly, Trinity and Jazz, John's cold hand on her face, and Denise's hateful words came to mind. She remembered how she herself had betrayed Maxie. And then she found the source of the awful stench in the chapel: Adonis' headless corpse on the foremost pew.

There is no God here.

Emma approached John quietly, trying extremely hard not to cry. She stood a few feet away in silence, waiting for him to speak.

[nope†]

((Morgan and James continued from Desperation))

Branches tore at Morgan's skin and clothes as she stormed through the jungle, leaving various scratches and tears on her face, legs and jacket. She was oblivious to them, as she was to the contents of her mesh messenger bag hitting against her thigh with each step. She was too taken by her fury and her need to run, to escape from James and this island and this game. Death was never something she'd dealt with well. She'd always buried it under thoughts of religion or the fancies of immortality or a bright, endless future for herself. It was unfair of James to dig it up like that. It was cruel.

Did she really believe he was wrong? No, of coarse not. They needed to survive. If that came to killing, as much as she detested the idea, that's just what they would have to do. But she couldn't just face it head-on like that. It made her weak in the knees and queasy in the stomach. She wanted to keep it under the dirt for as long as possible. Forever, if that was possible.

Morgan became gradually aware that the jungle around her was thinning. She also had some vague notice of the stinging on her legs and left cheek, but decided to ignore that for now. What she saw through the trees trumped her minor abrasions. A little white building. Shelter. My, how her tune changed when she spotted it. She quickened her pace to reach the end of the trees.

The steeple of the little chapel stood out on the darkening sky like a needle poking at so much fabric. Its insignificance was astounding. There was no dazzling white aura or cherubs with trumpets. Not even Virgil perched atop its roof, ready to guide her through this hell. It was as gloomy and dejected as every other building on this island. Every bit as lonely and indifferent.

Morgan gave out a gasp as her right shoulder was grabbed roughly by some hand. She was spun around and shoved into the tree directly behind her. The daypack saved her from the worse of the impact, but it still caused her to wince and cry out. Looming over her was James's livid face, red and contorted with anger. She noticed his face was fairly scratched up. She managed to wonder in her shock if she looked as bad.

"Are you a fucking psycho?! You could have gotten yourself killed!"

James shook her as he spoke, each time banging her none too gently into the trunk.

"James...augh!...please..."

He pushed her back a final time, then turned away. He ran his hand through his hair.

"Never fucking do that to me again."

She didn't have an answer. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest and kept her head down to hide her tears. When James didn't turn back after several moments, she turned again to the chapel.

There really was nothing "divine" about it. Divinity was defined by grandness, by spectacular miracles, bright whites and booming echoes. Not this dark little chapel. Not these two insignificant teenagers surrounded by their equally insignificant classmates ending one another's' worthless lives. God was not here. This wasn't even a blip on His holy radar. There would be no miracles, and the only echoes were drowned out by the rain.

"There's a building up there. A chapel. Maybe we can use it as shelter."

Without a word, James started towards it, not even looking back to see if she followed.

"Wait."

He stopped, still stubbornly refusing to look at her.

"I'm sorry. I... I didn't mean any of what I said back there. I...um..."

Now he did turn. His face had softened considerably. He walked back to her side and put his arm around his shoulders.

"It's alright. I'm sorry too."

She looked up at him. He smiled at her, and she returned it.

"Now come on, let's get you inside"

They walked together to the chapel doors.

---------

James was the first to notice the church's double doors had been left slightly ajar.

"Stay right there."
"What-"
"Don't worry, I'll be right back"

He jogged up to the entrance, pushing the door open slightly more with his arm. Even by the dim light he could make out the muddy shoe prints on the chapel's floor. The smell drifting out was anything but pleasant.

"Hello? Anybody home?"

[Theseus†]

((Neil Sinclair continued from Sound and Fury))

It was dark now. The trek through the jungle proved to be difficult and Neil Sinclair missed the comfort of the lookout tower. The safety it gave. Until Danya ruined that. Until he destroyed it all. He took away S.A.D.D's HQ and he took away their first plan of action, but he didn't take away their spirit. True, S.A.D.D last some members, but they gained some as well.

During the journey through the forest he made a point to talk to the three newcomers on the journey. Quincy, Hannah, and Denise. He knew them from school, but none of them were close friends. Though he remembered trying to convince them to come to his bands shows many times. He also remembered telling Denise to take her kid to the show.

Those were times long passed though. Neil Sinclair went from being the optimistic bright eyed rocker to what he his now. What exactly was he? Who was he? He never intended to lead this group. It just fell before him. Then when the incident at the cottage took place he had no choice but to continue to be the leader. To tell the truth, he enjoyed it. He liked knowing these kids looked up to him. He wasn't the leader type, that was for sure. He had a stage presence, sure, but leading people with such as an importance as this?

Even during the early days on the island he doubted his ability. Though now it was coming to him. He felt like it was in him all along. Even Danya called him out on the announcements because of his plan. His plan. Neil Sinclair felt powerful. On top of the world. Even in the darkness of the jungle, here with his group he felt like he could do this.

He could truly pull off the impossible.

Escape from the island.

That's when he reached the edge of the treeline. Through the darkness he could make out the chapel and memories flooded back to him. This was where he asked Dominica to join his group. This was where those inside the chapel turned his group down. They were probably gone now.

Then he heard a voice.

Hello? Anybody home?

Neil Sinclair froze in his place. Kneeling down he readied his M16 just in case. It was instinct now to get ready like he was. Now he waited to see if there were friendly people ahead or not so friendly people.

[Super Llama†]

{{continued from Sound and Fury}}

Hannah Rose was losing her battle with exhaustion.

She followed closely behind Neil as SADD left the barracks, practically numb to the heavy rain by now. Neil talked to her and the other newcomers, and she tried her best to keep up with the conversation. Neil certainly seemed like a decent person. Perhaps if her taste in music was different the two of them could've been friends.

She looked back at the other three newcomers. Quincy Archer. Honestly, Hannah didn't like Quincy at all. The guy just seemed to live to make enemies. Still, they were on the same team now. Hannah would have to put aside her dislike of him and work together to further SADD's plans.

Warren Pace. Though she remembered Warren as a complete jerkass, recently it seemed like he was trying to make amends. That was alright with her; she always believed that people like him could be forgiven if they were willing to change their ways.

Denise Dupuis. There wasn't a lot she could say about Denise. She didn't know her that well, other than that she had a kid.

As the group closed in on the church, it became clear that Hannah wasn't going to last much longer. She couldn't even remember the last time she had gotten any sleep on the island. Her vision began to blur, and she stumbled a few times, making herself keep going through pure force of will alone. As the church came into view, Hannah stood at the edge of the clearing, wobbling a few times as she realized that she had finally reached her limit.

Wait...this seems familiar... She thought.

"Neil, I'm sorry..." She said wearily, though it probably wasn't loud enough for him to hear. "I'm so tired...I can't...I just have to..." Before she knew it, she saw the ground coming towards her, hitting the ground with a thud as her body finally gave out on her, her last thought before drifting into unconciousness remembering that the same thing happened to Ivan. Just before he was killed.

[Theseus†]

As Neil looked forward, trying to figure out what the situation was up ahead, he heard Hanna's voice apologize to him. Turning around, he watched as she collapsed to the ground. Thoughts spun through his head as what had happened. Is she sick, tired, wounded?

No one else had caught up yet. Though in everyone's defense it was dark and raining. Plus, Neil knew Dominica and Matthew were probably pulling up the rear protecting the group. Dominica and Matthew. The two people Neil trusted most. He never knew what good people they were. What a shame it was the island that had to show him their character.

Neil would do anything for them, and he was sure they would do the same for him. It was people like them that kept S.A.D.D going on strong. Though they were both wounded, and still needed proper rest. Neil had wondered about Dominica's past on the island before she met him. Though true to his word, he wouldn't bring it up. She earned her spot and trust. There was another way off this island other than playing, and Neil would find it.

He had to.

Though, with Hannah Rose on the ground, he had a different set of problems. Parting the girl's black hair from her face, he whispered, "You're going to be ok."

He had to make sure not to make too much noise, for all he knew they were in the presence of players.

Taking off his pack he placed it on the ground and opened it up. Reaching in he took a water bottle out and screwed off the cap. He placed it on her lips and let a little water pour out.

He wondered if slapping a person really brought them to.

For a second he thought about doing it, but decided against it. It seemed too Hollywood.

"Come on Hannah, wake up. What's wrong..."

His eyes scanned over her body, and he saw no wounds. It could be a hidden wound, but she didn't mention being shot or stabbed or anything earlier. Either she was sick or exhausted. None of them good when you're in the rain at night.

"Come on S.A.D.D....catch up."

[Solitair†]

((Quincy Archer and Warren Pace continued from Sound and Fury))

"She's out like a light," Quincy commented, seeing Neil hunkered over Hannah outside the church. "In a few hours she'll be fresh as a daisy, if daisies had mental trauma that is." He paused to stretch his legs and back. "Thanks for waiting for us, by the way. I didn't know you'd move so quickly. Hell, I jog on a daily basis and I still couldn't keep up with you. Bloody jungle."

He turned and spat at the underbrush just as Warren emerged from it. "Oh. My mistake, Warren. I had no idea you were there," Quincy apologized flatly.

Warren didn't reply, instead rushing to Hannah's side with Neil. "Is she alright?" he asked the two of them.

"Fast asleep," Quincy told Warren, before facing Neil again. "Now, as I was trying to say before you flew the coop," he said to him, face completely serious, "your pep rally was... invigorating, but you may want to tone it down just a bit. Sound carries, and not everyone on this island is as nice as you are, alright?"

-----

SOUND AND FURY ON SPORTS AND SPORTS FIGURES

Sports are one of the great mysteries of life. I don't understand them, despite my efforts to the contrary. What I see is several groups of athletes competing to fulfill a largely arbitrary test of physical prowess while the fans fling all dignity aside in the hopes that their arbitrary pick of the litter will win some sort of bragging rights award.

I know what sort of reasons people have for attending sports: the communal aspect with other fans, the excitement of competitions, the longstanding traditions and feuds that make it exciting to follow, and none of them have satisfied me. The community can go fuck right off; there's little that appeals to me less than becoming a part of a mindless horde. Competition is somewhat more appealing, but I much prefer nearly any other sort of competition, like a video game match or some such. As for traditions or community, the fields that I'm interested in have that, too, and do it better. So I just don't get why people bother with sports at all.

Nor do I understand the reverence they hold for the athletes participating in the games. Professional athletes may entertain millions, but I can't fathom the need for them to be paid in millions, especially when they actually demand more money. Apparently they can't feed their families on a mere $5 million per year. Add to this other incidents like steroid abuse, the desire to win at all costs, and those retarded little dances they do after every touchdown or home run and you've got a mystery as to why the audience puts up with this shit.

And it's not limited to national levels, either. In my neighbourhood, there's an underground boxing ring in full swing, and one of the competitors, a fellow student named Bobby Jacks, has gotten himself in a bit of a pickle. In one of his recent matches, he punched his opponent in the face multiple times and managed to scrape out a win against an opponent who had been wiping the floor with him previously. And the kicker is that his opponent was hospitalized due to his wounds, and he eventually died.

Putting aside the question of how a man who was easily pushing Jacks around earlier in the match could suddenly die from a broken jaw of glass, the investigation into the incident confuses me. I could understand if the jury found Jacks not guilty, due to mitigating circumstances, but that's just it. There was no jury. There was no trial. There was just an investigation that declared the whole thing an accident and wrapped up without a word.

To be fair, it's entirely possible that Bobby isn't a bad guy and that I'm blowing this all out of proportion, but I don't know for sure, and neither does anyone else. It seems that he got off the hook a bit too easily, and now he's still boxing, same as always, at risk of causing more harm to his opponents.

I don't think I'll be pissing him off anytime soon.

Yours Sincerely,
The Late Arthur Aldridge.

[Ares]

((OOC: Since the other characters in this thread besides James, Emma and John are outside, for the next couple of posts between Dinah, Choic and myself, could I please request that they stay outside. It would be much appreciated. Thanks in advance))

There was a brief silence between John and Emma before he heard the door creak open and a voice coming from that area.

"Be quiet, and don't say a word about anything I've said. I'm going to see if this guy is friendly. If he's not, we might have to subdue him," John whispered to Emma, licking his lips at the thought of getting back into the action, "Have your sword ready, I'm going to try and lure him back here regardless of whether hes playing or not."

John left his weapons in his bag next to Emma and made his way towards the door. He figured he was fast enough to duck back around a corner if the intruder was playing, and if the person was not playing, it would be better to not have his weapons. Less threatening after all.

John slowly walked around to the little corridor that led to the doors and saw a boy standing there with his bag around his shoulder.

I've seen him before, but fuck if I remember his name.

"Hey. Look I'm unarmed," John announced to the boy raising his hands to show he wasn't lying, all the while keeping close to the corner, "You playing or what?"

[Ciel†]

(Dominica Shapiro continued from Sound and Fury)

There were many points in Dominca's journey where she had thought to throw the escape plan away. Surely any normal person would have doubted the plan itself... but when Dominica finally arrived at the chapel, the place where she joined S.A.D.D. a thought occurred. You've spent two days following Neil around like a scared pup... what have you gained from it? Have you escaped yet? The answer to these questions were very simple: no. And Dominica Shapiro, whom had killed two innocent boys without any hesitation did not like this at all.

I don't see the point in following these fools around the island. They're only going to get you killed in the end.

Dominica Shapiro, whom had chosen to go with S.A.D.D. in the first place, had different ideas.

That's the whole point. We're going to die anyway, so why not risk your life to escape? It's worth a shot.

No. You have a better chance of winning the game than escaping. Trust me, we were at the top of the world when we were all for playing this game.

Yes, well.... Killing people is wrong. Corbin... I didn't know Corbin, but all the same he... he didn't deserve to die. None of these people deserve to die. Saving a fraction of them is the right thing to do.

You're becoming soft. Why care for these people? YOU WANT to live, don't you?

And so on and so on and so on.

Dominica was very unsure of what to thing. She wanted to live but the more she imagined herself fighting the more sick she became. What was the point? Was there really a point to playing? The ones who put themselves out there would be the first to die, they would be walking targets. People like Dominica... people who were under the radar, they would survive. They would make it until the end. That was assured. Playing under the radar what Dominica was born to do: she certainly didn't look like a cold-blooded killer but she had proven herself to be one of the most ruthless.

She sneezed, stumbling forward with her right foot forward. Yes... she didn't look like a killer at all. She looked ahead to see where Neil was. He was... kneeling down to help someone. A girl, most likely She couldn't tell, she was too far off. The nighttime made it very hard to see, but knowing where to spot Neil Sinclair was an easy task: he looked outright unusual. It wasn't like Dominica to judge but Neil's strange look made him stick out to others. However, seeing that Neil was attending to Hannah made Dominica slightly annoyed. Shouldn't he be looking after us? Me and Matthew are the ones that are harmed!

Dominica walked forward, closer to Neil. She had a good aim at his head. She could see it. That was when a dirty thought crossed Dominica's mind.

Could she... kill Neil?

...

No. Not now. She still had hope for what Neil was doing. She still wanted to escape... but it was mighty tempting. She had a hand tightly wrapped around her Taurus Millennium right now. If he were too busy with Hannah she could make it real quick. She could kill that girl too, and Quincy and Warren. And Matthew. Yes, she could make mince meat out of all of them and she'd do it too. She had the nerve. She could stomach deceiving a few people and then killing them off... that's what she had been hoping for... but... why was it so hard? Why couldn't she do it to these people? Why couldn't she do it to Neil, the fool who blindly trusted a girl who had killed two others?

Faith. She had faith in Neil. She had become soft, attached to these people. Dominica Shapiro had become the thing she had promised herself never to become, and this solemn fact was tearing her up. Dominica sighed, brushing her black hair back. I guess... playing this game isn't for me anymore...

[Mitsuko2†]

((From: Sound and Fury))

It had been a taxing day. That much was certain. Nothing in Matthew's life had ever been so tiring and full of pain as the entirely of today's events. Nothing would ever match the horrors he had witnesses and partaken in. He could slowly feel his soul being drained out of his body with each passing day on the island. He was becoming a shell, and he knew that nothing would fill the gaping hole in his soul if he survived this massacre.

That's what it was... it wasn't a game... It was a bloodbath...

He slowly trudged behind the group as they made their way from the barracks and through the jungle. His heart ached. It burned inside him for everything that had happened. The fear for his life early that morning when Nathanial's gun was so close to killing him. The pain in his shoulder... the stench of the blood... The knowledge that their time was running out, and that the danger zone would kill them. The sorrow when Corbin lost his life...

Then at the barracks, things only got worse... Matt couldn't be as strong as Neil or Dominica... He'd never been strong... He was always that person who blended in. He never had to do anything important. He never had to have people rely on him...

Arthur, Andy and Ivan... All of them died, and Matt did nothing to try and stop the massacre...

Neil... he wanted to, but they couldn't risk anyone else... Matt had been shivering. He was afraid to point that gun and fire... He'd shot Nathanial... He'd killed him... but... He was too afraid to pull the trigger again.

Why was it so... hard?

His entire body froze up, as if he were a statue. He couldn't move at all... He was weak...

What was he even doing here? He had no place with these people... They were all so strong... Neil and Dominica were both such powerful forces... but Matt? He was just a weak, spineless coward...And he knew it. He knew he was just too weak to do anything right...

He didn't need to use the speargun as much anymore... His knee wasn't in as much pain as it was before. His other arm felt like it was on fire from the bullet wound, but he could deal with it for a bit longer. The shoddy wrap job that was done worked for the time being, and the Viper JAWS was grasped tightly in that very hand. It was the only protection he had...

And these people were counting on him to be able to use it when the time came.

He had to... And he would.

It was time to grow up, and be a man for the first time in his life.

That much was certain.

[Ciel†]

The announcement came on... Danya's description of both Blood Boy's and Corbin's deaths were disturbing... and then the awards came on and Dominica was shocked.

It was sickening.

"We're actually rewarded from make people suffer?"

She never saw the whole thing from the killers perspective before. Before she was hoping to win the award but now... now she realized she had to make another human being suffer and she was gaining from it. It was sickening, completely sickening. Why was there an award at all? Dominica was regretting her past mistakes, how she saw killing as a good thing. She looked down at the ground in shame and sighed. I guess if they're going to give us something for our troubles at least we should go get it.

"Neil... I'll go get the awards, you stay here and deal with... her If I'm not back in about an hour then..." Dominica didn't answer. She just turned to look at Matthew. "Matthew. Come with me... I feel like I'm a walking target if I go alone."

She tapped Matthew's shoulder before heading out.

(Continued elsewhere...)

[Mitsuko2†]

Matt was snapped out of his thoughts as the speakers around the island blared to life, and Danya's irritating voice rung in his ears once more. He felt sure that if he indeed ever made it off this island, Danya's voice would forever be in his nightmares. The list of the dead was shockingly long, and when Matt heard his name mentioned, her cringed from the painful memory. Nathanial's blood was on his hands... that horrified him.

Danya prattled on and on, and Matt was disgusted by the jovial tone Danya used to announce these people's deaths... these were his classmates... and they were all dying... this wasn't anything funny...

That was when he announced the Kill Award winners. That made Matt's blood stop cold.

They'd won... for killing him... Nathanial... They won for killing that maniac.

That was so damn wrong...

He felt a tear roll down his cheek. How on earth could he award them for something like that? It was horrible... to be rewarded for something so foul and cruel...

What would his parents think of him now? He'd committed a sin against god... Taking a human life...

He turned at Dominica's bemused question.

"It looks that way... Danya must be so fucking proud of us..." He said with venom laced through each word.

Dominica offered to retrieve their weapons, and asked Matt to go along, for safety in numbers. He nodded slightly, and turned to follow.

"We'll be back soon Neil... Don't die on us, okay?" He smiled slightly before following Dominica out of the area and towards the Hospital.


((Continued: Elsewhere))

[Ares]

John took another step towards the boy keeping his hands in plain sight. There were whispers and voices coming from outside.

"Who's with you? That your big plan? Lure me out there and kill the Riz?"

John chuckled at the thought. This guy really was stupid if he thought he could lure him into a death trap.

"I think I'll be taking my leave now," John said to the boy backing away before rounding the corner, "Luring me outside...what an idiot." John's voice trailed off.

He went back to the altar and found Emma waiting.

"We're leaving. Now. Jackass at the front has an ambush party out the front door. So we'll go out the back."

John grabbed his pack and made his way out the back door, feeling a growing sense of frustration. The laughter inside his head was dying, and he was getting bored.

((John continued in Desperation))

**EDIT - I made a mistake when I looked at the church map and thought there was a hallway of sorts. Please assume Emma and John were in the storage room near the backdoor. I apologize for my mistake.**

[Solitair†]

"Nate's dead?" Quincy asked Warren, the only other S.A.D.D. member present who wasn't due to receive a new weapon. Dominica and Matt were long gone, and Neil would soon follow them.

"Don't worry, Neil. We can take care of Hannah while you're gone," Warren told him. He nodded and gave a short smile, hoping that he'd seem confident enough for the job. Then he blinked and turned back to Quincy, having only just heard his words. "'Nate'?" he gasped. "Quince, don't tell me you actually knew that psycho!"

"Oh, I tried to, Warren," Quincy sighed. "I really did. You remember freshman year, right? The time of innocence and forging new connections among your peer group? Well, before the... year's end, I felt like making a new friend. Boy did he look like he needed it."

He kneeled next to Hannah, who managed to sleep straight through the announcements. At the moment she looked completely vulnerable. Quincy bent over and brushed her hair out of her face. "I tried my best to endear myself. I even learned his real name. Fat lot of good that did me. He avoided me and insulted me and even threatened me once or twice. I didn't know it at the time, but he was either broken or near the breaking point at the time. Nothing I could've done. Ah well."

Warren sighed. Another entry was being added to his list of failures and inadequacies: the fact that he had left Neil, Matt, Dominica, and worst of all, Corbin, to fight Blood Boy on their own, and in a soon-to-be danger zone, too! To be fair, though, there was no way he could have known it would happen, but still...

"Near the breaking point?" Warren asked Quincy.

"Maybe," Quincy replied. "Who'd he kill first again?"

Warren stroked his chin, then widened his eyes. "Josh Goodman!"

Quincy snapped his fingers. "Aye, that'd explain it. Conniving schemer like him approaches Nate and something's bound to give."

"So, what, Blood Boy's a victim, too?"

"I never said that!" Quincy protested. "The whole arm-rape thing is disproportionate to say the least. No, I think we're better off now that he's gone."

He gave Hannah another looking over, then tried to work his way under her shoulders. "What do you say we take her inside?"

[Theseus†]

The announcements.

Always dreary. Always sad. Apparantly another girl took it upon herself to smash cameras. Now more were dead. Neil almost felt like it was his fault the girl smashed the cameras. That he was indirectly responsible for all those Danya killed in revenge. Though, the cameras didn't matter anymore. Neil had to find another escape plan. Since he couldn't destroy the cameras, thus bring down Danya's ratings, and causing a terrorist team to be sent in, he couldn't plan an ambush.

Neil Sinclair was unaware that the cameras on the island had been affected by Jack's virus. He didn't know that right now, Danya was blind to the island.

He, Dominica, and Matthew had won the best kill award. For trying to protect themselves, they won an award. Sickening. That was something only the players were supposed to get. Neil didn't think of it as a "best kill". He had to watch his friend die. They all had to watch their friend die. Now S.A.D.D was falling apart at the seams it seemed like. Dorian was gone, Corbin was dead, others got lost.

Then Dominica spoke up. She offered to go to the hospital herself to collect the prizes. She said she would be back in an hour. Matthew would come with her.

Neil wanted to protest. He should go with them, though he knew that couldn't be done. Dominica and Matthew were the most experienced members of S.A.D.D in the group right now. Hannah was in trouble, and while Warren and Quincy could probably handle the situation, Neil knew he couldn't leave. To leave would be to put most of S.A.D.D's power in Dominica's group. To leave would leave Hannah, Quincy, and Warren without guidance.

Neil didn't believe in leaders. Though he knew the importance of direction with a task as big as escaping the island.

Escape.

It was something he came close to. He brought down the wrath of Danya on them all.

It was something he would do. He would make sure him and S.A.D.D got off the island.

He even wore the armband around his arm. Before giving Matthew Corbin's daypack, Neil looked inside of it. There he found the armbands Corbin made. Each one with the words S.A.D.D written on them in sharpie. The black armbands with the silver sharpie. Neil's even had a personal message from Corbin in it.

Neil didn't believe in leaders. Said before, said again. Though, he knew people looked to him for guidance now. So he would have to stay with Hannah, Warren, and Quincy. Dominica and Matthew could protect themselves. They would return. Then together the remnants of S.A.D.D would form a new plan. They would get off this island yet.

Neil looked at Warren and said, "I'm not leaving. Dominica and Matt can take care of themselves. Besides, if we're going to go inside, we're going to need all the firepower we can to be safe."

Neil didn't know what the game was doing to him. He would never enjoy killing someone. Yet, he did kill someone. He felt safe holding his M16 while a sword was dangling from his hips, tied with a makeshift sheath. Or something like that.

Reaching into his pocket though, Neil took out two S.A.D.D armbands. He tossed them to Quincy and Warren and said, "Here. Corbin made these. We're a team. Let's get her inside."