** Madison Springer, girl no. 12, start
Madison's breath came out in short, ragged bursts that she tried desperately to staunch with gritted teeth. Sweat from the humidity and sheer panic glued her hair to her face in a wild intangible pattern that she gave up trying to tame or remove. She was single-minded and purely fixated on a single goal alone, like bull seeing red, as she pulled glassware and plates and pots and pans from their homes in the manor's dusty old cupboards, letting them land with whatever clang or smash that they found fit. Part of her worried about the noise and the attention it'd attract, but she didn't expect to be where she was long, not once she found something she could defend herself with. Any knife or hidden samurai sword or gun that whatever freak used to live here had laying around.
Eventually, she stopped even looking and the shattering of plates became nothing but a release. A couple against the wall, a few to the floor, a heavy old skillet through the glass back splash of an ancient looking stove. She let the buzzing of her ears and the panic take her, grabbing a nearby wooden chair from a dinette and letting that meet its end with the plates against the wall.
She did that for awhile, until she couldn't anymore, until everything just got to be too much and everything starting hitting her. And then she let herself fall to the ground amongst the shards of broken glass and splintered wood, amongst the destruction she caused that might have been the last thing she ever did. And then she slid herself across the floor and into a corner and brought her knees to her chest, because Madison knew she was screwed and she knew there was no hope for her to even try, because people wanted her dead back in Chattanooga and murder island surely wasn't going to change anyone's opinion in the opposite.
And she drew Connor's jacket closer to her face, taking in a deep breath of the cologne she knew him by, because maybe it'd be the last thing she ever smelled and maybe she'd never see him again and she regretted arguing with him on the trip and regretted being such a caustic bitch.
And then it all came, like an opened floodgate. Every awful thing that she did to Connor and her parents and Cassidy and she began to think maybe she deserved to get cut down like a pig for everything. And then she wondered if they'd miss her. And then she realized how selfish she was for hoping they did when she was gone.
But maybe it's because she wouldn't.
And still, Madison Springer didn't cry, because she didn't know how. All she could do was draw her knees even closer and hope that when it happened it'd be quick.
The Robot With Human Hair
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MK Kilmarnock
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((Nathan Coleman, B059, start))
Nathan woke up in a strange place. He could not remember where he was, or what had happened in that dark room. Things got loud, and other kids started to get scared. Somebody told them not to be scared or to cry, so Nathan did not cry. Was this part of the trip? When would they go home? Why did they have to wear these collars that didn't feel good, itched and felt hot underneath?
Nathan scratched at his collar. He tried to push a finger between the collar and his neck to rub at the sweat that was trapped in between, but he could just barely fit one finger at any time. He made a noise deep in his throat and pulled at the collar, first with one finger, then by gripping at it with both hands, but it was no use; the collar would not come off.
"HELLO!" Nathan called.
Nobody answered.
"HELLO! HELLO!" he called again, walking around in circles. He was near a house, a big house that looked nice but also kind of weird, and there were some smaller houses nearby. As Nathan walked, still looking at the large house next to him, something caught his feet and he stumbled forward. Thankfully, he was able to catch himself by putting both hands out, and the band on his glasses meant that they wouldn't fall off, but the dirt had little rocks in it that hurt his hands. He winced in pain and looked around to see if anybody was nearby yet. He also turned behind him to see what he had tripped over.
The item he tripped over was a bag. It was a strange-looking bag that did not look like it was his. Nathan briefly wondered whose bag it was; it must have belonged to somebody big and strong, because the bag was very large, like it held a big instrument or some sports equipment. He should leave it alone, Nathan decided, because it was not his and if anybody came back looking for it, maybe they would get mad, because he looked in it and it was not his.
A loud crashing sound distracted Nathan from his thoughts. Wiping his hands together and then, knowing that nobody was looking, wiping them on his pants, he left behind the large bag that was labeled 'B059 - Coleman, Nathan' and came closer to the house in order to investigate the noises. He was sure to walk up the stairs very carefully so he would not trip again. The door to the house was open. Was it okay to go inside?
"Uhm! Helloooooooooooo! Hiiiiii it's Nathaaaan!" Nathan called, plodding through the doorway. "Helloooooooo! I'm here now!"
Nathan woke up in a strange place. He could not remember where he was, or what had happened in that dark room. Things got loud, and other kids started to get scared. Somebody told them not to be scared or to cry, so Nathan did not cry. Was this part of the trip? When would they go home? Why did they have to wear these collars that didn't feel good, itched and felt hot underneath?
Nathan scratched at his collar. He tried to push a finger between the collar and his neck to rub at the sweat that was trapped in between, but he could just barely fit one finger at any time. He made a noise deep in his throat and pulled at the collar, first with one finger, then by gripping at it with both hands, but it was no use; the collar would not come off.
"HELLO!" Nathan called.
Nobody answered.
"HELLO! HELLO!" he called again, walking around in circles. He was near a house, a big house that looked nice but also kind of weird, and there were some smaller houses nearby. As Nathan walked, still looking at the large house next to him, something caught his feet and he stumbled forward. Thankfully, he was able to catch himself by putting both hands out, and the band on his glasses meant that they wouldn't fall off, but the dirt had little rocks in it that hurt his hands. He winced in pain and looked around to see if anybody was nearby yet. He also turned behind him to see what he had tripped over.
The item he tripped over was a bag. It was a strange-looking bag that did not look like it was his. Nathan briefly wondered whose bag it was; it must have belonged to somebody big and strong, because the bag was very large, like it held a big instrument or some sports equipment. He should leave it alone, Nathan decided, because it was not his and if anybody came back looking for it, maybe they would get mad, because he looked in it and it was not his.
A loud crashing sound distracted Nathan from his thoughts. Wiping his hands together and then, knowing that nobody was looking, wiping them on his pants, he left behind the large bag that was labeled 'B059 - Coleman, Nathan' and came closer to the house in order to investigate the noises. He was sure to walk up the stairs very carefully so he would not trip again. The door to the house was open. Was it okay to go inside?
"Uhm! Helloooooooooooo! Hiiiiii it's Nathaaaan!" Nathan called, plodding through the doorway. "Helloooooooo! I'm here now!"
All Madison could do was laugh; a loud, dry, humorless laugh that ripped through her entire body, one of those uncontrollable ones that was tip-toeing that line into fear, the ones little kids do when you scare them just right and they don't know what to do aside from laugh. Maybe it was a coping mechanism, maybe if you laugh when you're scared, you trick yourself into calming down or forgetting about that fear. She didn't know. Anything that deep or hidden or psychological was far beyond her faculties.
All she knew was that if there was anyone more fucked than her or more fucked than Ivy and Wyatt and Tyrell or one of the plentiful disasters she called classmates; it was Nathan. Nathan who danced in the halls and won class president on pity alone. Nathan who couldn't tell when people were being mean to him and Nathan who didn't know when to just stop.
It wasn't funny and yet she laughed.
She imagined him following some piece of shit into the jungle, she imagined him trusting the wrong people, and she imagined all the ways he could die and all the ways he was going to suffer, but she still laughed, burying her face into her knees to try and control the uncontrollable.
There was no point in calling out to him, because Nathan always had a way of finding her when she didn't want him to.
All she knew was that if there was anyone more fucked than her or more fucked than Ivy and Wyatt and Tyrell or one of the plentiful disasters she called classmates; it was Nathan. Nathan who danced in the halls and won class president on pity alone. Nathan who couldn't tell when people were being mean to him and Nathan who didn't know when to just stop.
It wasn't funny and yet she laughed.
She imagined him following some piece of shit into the jungle, she imagined him trusting the wrong people, and she imagined all the ways he could die and all the ways he was going to suffer, but she still laughed, burying her face into her knees to try and control the uncontrollable.
There was no point in calling out to him, because Nathan always had a way of finding her when she didn't want him to.
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MK Kilmarnock
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Somebody was laughing!
"Is somebody playing a trick on me?" Nathan asked in a huff. He stomped his foot as he walked, letting his sneakers make loud clapping sounds against the floor of the house. When nobody immediately answered, Nathan picked up the pace. He jogged into the house and headed for where he thought the noise was coming from. Why would somebody be hiding from him, then laughing at him? He thought about this as he bounced into what looked to be a kitchen, but all dirty and gross. He could only tell it was a kitchen because there were pans hanging from the wall, and plates all over the floor, all broken.
Nathan remembered dropping a plate on the kitchen floor. At first he thought his mom was mad because she yelled and was shocked, but then she said it was okay, that she wasn't mad at all. This was like... a lot of plates. At least five plates. Maybe some other stuff thrown all over the place.
Nathan's eyes swept the room until he found Madison, all curled up in a ball.
"I found you!" Nathan said, lips curled up into a wide grin.
"Is somebody playing a trick on me?" Nathan asked in a huff. He stomped his foot as he walked, letting his sneakers make loud clapping sounds against the floor of the house. When nobody immediately answered, Nathan picked up the pace. He jogged into the house and headed for where he thought the noise was coming from. Why would somebody be hiding from him, then laughing at him? He thought about this as he bounced into what looked to be a kitchen, but all dirty and gross. He could only tell it was a kitchen because there were pans hanging from the wall, and plates all over the floor, all broken.
Nathan remembered dropping a plate on the kitchen floor. At first he thought his mom was mad because she yelled and was shocked, but then she said it was okay, that she wasn't mad at all. This was like... a lot of plates. At least five plates. Maybe some other stuff thrown all over the place.
Nathan's eyes swept the room until he found Madison, all curled up in a ball.
"I found you!" Nathan said, lips curled up into a wide grin.
Just as quickly as it had come, Madison's laughter ceased completely and left her stone-faced as she looked up to meet Nathan's gaze. He looked just as he had back in Tennessee, slightly disheveled, maybe, and sporting the same collar she wore, but the same in all other regards. As if he hadn't just seen Principal Garcia murdered right in front of him or heard the same screams that she had, as if he hadn't shared those terrified lingering moments of eye contact with the people he'd grown up with that he was expected to kill or be killed by.
As if he hadn't thought of all the ways he could die or how bad it'd hurt or all the things he suddenly wanted to do and say and all the things he wanted to see or experience.
To him, she was just playing a game of hide and seek and she knew better than that. She knew he knew better than that.
Narrowing her eyes, Madison spoke for the first time in what was likely several hours; her voice coming out hoarse and weak, but with conviction.
“You're not a fucking idiot, Nathan. You know what's happening, don't you?”
As if he hadn't thought of all the ways he could die or how bad it'd hurt or all the things he suddenly wanted to do and say and all the things he wanted to see or experience.
To him, she was just playing a game of hide and seek and she knew better than that. She knew he knew better than that.
Narrowing her eyes, Madison spoke for the first time in what was likely several hours; her voice coming out hoarse and weak, but with conviction.
“You're not a fucking idiot, Nathan. You know what's happening, don't you?”
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MK Kilmarnock
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"Uhm..." Nathan fiddled with his fingers as he thought about what Madison had said. She sounded very angry, and that anger made him nervous.
"We're lost?" he guessed. He tried to remember the dark room again, and thinking about it made him squirm. He was obviously uncomfortable. But he did not want to look at what the people who took them away told him to look at, and he could not see over the person in front of him unless he really tried. Nathan did not try, because he was too scared. He kept his head down, looking at his own lap, and thought about going home when the person was speaking. He did not hear what they had to say.
"Are you mad at me?" Nathan suddenly asked, taking a step toward Madison. He could not get over how furious she seemed, and knew Madison did not get angry for no reason. Maybe she was just as lost as he was, unable to decide what to do next. Ms. Bautista and Ms. Martin had told him before what to do when he felt class starting to become too much for him. If waking up in this strange place started to overwhelm him, Nathan knew all he had to do was start breathing and walk in a circle. He was not as tense as Madison yet, but he thought about his teachers anyway.
He hoped Madison was not mad... but if she was, he was there to make her feel better.
"We're lost?" he guessed. He tried to remember the dark room again, and thinking about it made him squirm. He was obviously uncomfortable. But he did not want to look at what the people who took them away told him to look at, and he could not see over the person in front of him unless he really tried. Nathan did not try, because he was too scared. He kept his head down, looking at his own lap, and thought about going home when the person was speaking. He did not hear what they had to say.
"Are you mad at me?" Nathan suddenly asked, taking a step toward Madison. He could not get over how furious she seemed, and knew Madison did not get angry for no reason. Maybe she was just as lost as he was, unable to decide what to do next. Ms. Bautista and Ms. Martin had told him before what to do when he felt class starting to become too much for him. If waking up in this strange place started to overwhelm him, Nathan knew all he had to do was start breathing and walk in a circle. He was not as tense as Madison yet, but he thought about his teachers anyway.
He hoped Madison was not mad... but if she was, he was there to make her feel better.
Madison's eyes were barely more than slits that bore into Nathan, as if trying to immolate the smaller boy with her gaze alone; her face unsure whether it wanted to wear sheer disbelief or fury when Nathan answered her question. She could tell her anger was misplaced, just as it had been with the plates forming a shattered halo around her, that she should have just been mad at the situation or the people that took them if she was going to be mad at all.
But there was Nathan right in front of her, looking so small and scared and confused. And it wasn't fair that he didn't quite understand, that he was able to be in the dark, that he didn't expect the worst. Every piece of pain and anger in her attached itself to him like some demented beacon and all she wanted to do was make him just as miserable as she was.
Letting her arms drop to the ground, she forced a humorless chuckle out, just to let him know how stupid she found him.
“I'm pissed, Nathan. You're an idiot if you think we're lost and you're even stupider if you don't understand that you're going to die. Who was with you?” She spat, not waiting for him to respond before continuing, “Ms. Bautista? Martin? Whoever it was is dead now, Nathan Because they had to come with you. All because you can't take care of your-fucking-self.”
Her long fingers clumsily danced over a long shard of one of the plates broken across the ground, initially just needing something to do with her hands, but the longer she talked and the angrier she become, the tighter she found her hold on it, relishing the pain of her palm parting to the sharp surface.
And then she was on her feet, unable to make her point anymore whilst sitting down, wanting nothing more than to use her height against Nathan.
“And I'm gonna die and you're gonna die, just like Garcia, because nobody cares about you here, Nathan.”
She was barely a foot away from him now, her hair still sweat-plastered to her face, bloodied palm still gripping the broken plate as it left a drip-dropped trail onto the dusted floor.
She wanted him to cry.
Maybe because she couldn't.
But there was Nathan right in front of her, looking so small and scared and confused. And it wasn't fair that he didn't quite understand, that he was able to be in the dark, that he didn't expect the worst. Every piece of pain and anger in her attached itself to him like some demented beacon and all she wanted to do was make him just as miserable as she was.
Letting her arms drop to the ground, she forced a humorless chuckle out, just to let him know how stupid she found him.
“I'm pissed, Nathan. You're an idiot if you think we're lost and you're even stupider if you don't understand that you're going to die. Who was with you?” She spat, not waiting for him to respond before continuing, “Ms. Bautista? Martin? Whoever it was is dead now, Nathan Because they had to come with you. All because you can't take care of your-fucking-self.”
Her long fingers clumsily danced over a long shard of one of the plates broken across the ground, initially just needing something to do with her hands, but the longer she talked and the angrier she become, the tighter she found her hold on it, relishing the pain of her palm parting to the sharp surface.
And then she was on her feet, unable to make her point anymore whilst sitting down, wanting nothing more than to use her height against Nathan.
“And I'm gonna die and you're gonna die, just like Garcia, because nobody cares about you here, Nathan.”
She was barely a foot away from him now, her hair still sweat-plastered to her face, bloodied palm still gripping the broken plate as it left a drip-dropped trail onto the dusted floor.
She wanted him to cry.
Maybe because she couldn't.
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MK Kilmarnock
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Nathan wanted to look away from Madison, because of the way that she looked down at him. She had managed to terrify him.
It was very clear she scared him because even though he wanted to look away, he could not. His eyes were as wide as they could go, behind his dusty glasses that he had forgotten to clean since waking up. He did not even realize they were dirty until now, when the dirt gave him something to look at that was not Madison's eyes. She looked like she hated him, and he did not even know what he did.
But he was listening to her and, though he could not remember everything she said, he remembered two things.
The first thing Nathan remembered was that it was Ms. Martin who was with him. He had asked Ms. Bautista to go on the trip, but she said that she had to take care of her family. Nathan still was not sure why that meant she had to go, but Ms. Bautista said that it was complicated and she would explain it when he got back. And the second thing he remembered...
Nathan wanted to forget it instead, because it was so scary. Because Madison said he was going to die.
"G-Go away, you're..." Nathan dropped his chin, raising his hands and bringing them close to his chest as if they could protect him from everything. "Scaring me!" He blurted out the rest of his sentence and tried to step back away from Madison. She looked so big, even bigger now that she was mad. "I don't wanna die!" Nathan shouted. He knew that dying meant you could not be alive anymore. It was what happened to the bad guys in movies, but sometimes it happened to the good guys, too. Mom explained to him why Bambi's mom did not show up anymore after winter. He used to think she just left, and when Mom told him that she was no longer alive, Nathan cried. He remembered crying until they went to get ice cream. He remembered crying when that evil guy who fought Mr. Incredible died, too. Mom laughed and asked him why he was crying, because that man was the bad guy.
Nathan did not remember his answer. He lost his balance and fell straight onto his butt, catching himself from falling any further by putting his hands out behind him.
He started to cry, and it might have been louder than the time Bambi's mom died.
He couldn't remember.
It was very clear she scared him because even though he wanted to look away, he could not. His eyes were as wide as they could go, behind his dusty glasses that he had forgotten to clean since waking up. He did not even realize they were dirty until now, when the dirt gave him something to look at that was not Madison's eyes. She looked like she hated him, and he did not even know what he did.
But he was listening to her and, though he could not remember everything she said, he remembered two things.
The first thing Nathan remembered was that it was Ms. Martin who was with him. He had asked Ms. Bautista to go on the trip, but she said that she had to take care of her family. Nathan still was not sure why that meant she had to go, but Ms. Bautista said that it was complicated and she would explain it when he got back. And the second thing he remembered...
Nathan wanted to forget it instead, because it was so scary. Because Madison said he was going to die.
"G-Go away, you're..." Nathan dropped his chin, raising his hands and bringing them close to his chest as if they could protect him from everything. "Scaring me!" He blurted out the rest of his sentence and tried to step back away from Madison. She looked so big, even bigger now that she was mad. "I don't wanna die!" Nathan shouted. He knew that dying meant you could not be alive anymore. It was what happened to the bad guys in movies, but sometimes it happened to the good guys, too. Mom explained to him why Bambi's mom did not show up anymore after winter. He used to think she just left, and when Mom told him that she was no longer alive, Nathan cried. He remembered crying until they went to get ice cream. He remembered crying when that evil guy who fought Mr. Incredible died, too. Mom laughed and asked him why he was crying, because that man was the bad guy.
Nathan did not remember his answer. He lost his balance and fell straight onto his butt, catching himself from falling any further by putting his hands out behind him.
He started to cry, and it might have been louder than the time Bambi's mom died.
He couldn't remember.
It wasn't enough.
It wasn't enough for her, even while Nathan lay on the ground crying and looking more pathetic than she'd ever seen another human; snot running from his dirtied, round face, the fear in his eyes cutting right through her. For someone else, it might have been enough. Point proven, move along, but not for Madison. There was no stopping, not when she'd been in this same situation far too many times with her sister- Madison forever taking the mantle of unrelenting villain to Cassidy's innocent bystander. And her parents would yell and lecture and woe is Cassidy, because she's not doing anything wrong, and just once Madison wanted them to understand how annoying a little sister could be and not write her off just because she was retarded.
And just once, she wanted Cassidy to have even a little malice in her so that terrorizing her wouldn't make her feel like such a sad human. And maybe she wanted the same from Nathan. She didn't know, but the longer she stood above the small boy and the more scared of her he got, the angrier she did.
She'd give him a reason to be afraid if that's what he wanted.
Madison released herself to her fury, dropping in an instant on top of Nathan, her long legs pressed tightly against his sides, barely flinching as several small ceramic shards embedded themselves into her exposed knees. She could feel her breathing go ragged as the bloodied shiv in her hand found its way to Nathan's neck above his collar, pressed just deep enough to leave a mark while not breaking skin.
“And I'm not, Nathan!?” Her voiced came out haggard and shaky, as if she'd just run a mile, “Do you get it, yet?! I could slit your throat right here, right now, Nathan. I could slit your fucking throat and it'd be so painful, do you understand?! Wake the fuck up.”
She didn't know what she was trying to prove anymore, nor when she started shaking as much as she was.
It wasn't enough for her, even while Nathan lay on the ground crying and looking more pathetic than she'd ever seen another human; snot running from his dirtied, round face, the fear in his eyes cutting right through her. For someone else, it might have been enough. Point proven, move along, but not for Madison. There was no stopping, not when she'd been in this same situation far too many times with her sister- Madison forever taking the mantle of unrelenting villain to Cassidy's innocent bystander. And her parents would yell and lecture and woe is Cassidy, because she's not doing anything wrong, and just once Madison wanted them to understand how annoying a little sister could be and not write her off just because she was retarded.
And just once, she wanted Cassidy to have even a little malice in her so that terrorizing her wouldn't make her feel like such a sad human. And maybe she wanted the same from Nathan. She didn't know, but the longer she stood above the small boy and the more scared of her he got, the angrier she did.
She'd give him a reason to be afraid if that's what he wanted.
Madison released herself to her fury, dropping in an instant on top of Nathan, her long legs pressed tightly against his sides, barely flinching as several small ceramic shards embedded themselves into her exposed knees. She could feel her breathing go ragged as the bloodied shiv in her hand found its way to Nathan's neck above his collar, pressed just deep enough to leave a mark while not breaking skin.
“And I'm not, Nathan!?” Her voiced came out haggard and shaky, as if she'd just run a mile, “Do you get it, yet?! I could slit your throat right here, right now, Nathan. I could slit your fucking throat and it'd be so painful, do you understand?! Wake the fuck up.”
She didn't know what she was trying to prove anymore, nor when she started shaking as much as she was.
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MK Kilmarnock
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Madison suddenly looked so much closer than she had before. Before Nathan could understand what was happening, she was on top of him. He put his hands up to catch the ceiling that he thought would fall on him. His ribs felt tight and it was harder to breathe. And Nathan wanted to breathe. He wanted to breathe, faster and faster, and started to whine between short, quick pants.
Even if he could breathe, Nathan had nothing to say to Madison. Now his best friend was so mad at him that she wanted to kill him. The terrifying thought of getting his neck cut open and stuff coming spilling right out left him unable to slow his breathing, or to talk, or to ask her to get off.
All he could do right now was lay there, whine, and wait with eyes squinted shut and hands feebly waving.
Even if he could breathe, Nathan had nothing to say to Madison. Now his best friend was so mad at him that she wanted to kill him. The terrifying thought of getting his neck cut open and stuff coming spilling right out left him unable to slow his breathing, or to talk, or to ask her to get off.
All he could do right now was lay there, whine, and wait with eyes squinted shut and hands feebly waving.
The air was humming around Madison, buzzing and drilling so loudly in her ears that clouded her vision. Loud enough that she could only just barely hear Nathan's beleaguered whines. Loud enough that she could only see her own bloody hand and the plate pressing into Nathan's throat through the pockets of black, the skin threatening to release under the pressure of the makeshift weapon. All it took was one quick motion, one slash to the right and he was gone. No more dancing in the hallways, no more toy cars at the lunch table, no more questions about Connor or Cassidy. He'd just be gone. And she saw herself do it, visualized dark blood coating his throat and the floor below him, imagined his head lulling softly to the side and his unaffixed eyes losing their luster.
And she saw herself atop him, bloodied shiv in hand, mania written across her face.
And she told herself it was the right thing to, that he wasn't going to make it and someone would kill him in a worse way, that she was doing him a favor.
And still, she couldn't. Not even when she tried. And she had. She tried to force herself to drag the weapon the length of his neck, tried to coax body to listen to brain and part of her wondered if she would have had she not looked at his sad little round face and saw nothing but Cassidy in it.
What the fuck was she doing? What was the plan?
Angrily, Madison threw the shiv to the opposite end of the room, beads of blood trailing behind it, before wordlessly dismounting Nathan. For a moment, she just stood staring at him, her face warping in disgust. Maybe because he looked so pathetic, maybe because she was. It didn't matter.
Absently wrapping her good hand around the wounded one as if to heal it by miracle touch, she tapped Nathan's leg with the toe of her boot, likely harder than she'd intended, and spoke for what felt like the first time in hours.
“Stop being a baby and get up.”
She should've apologized. Normal, good people would have apologized.
“I'm not going to kill you, Nathan, but someone will if you don't stop acting like an idiot.”
But she didn't.
And she saw herself atop him, bloodied shiv in hand, mania written across her face.
And she told herself it was the right thing to, that he wasn't going to make it and someone would kill him in a worse way, that she was doing him a favor.
And still, she couldn't. Not even when she tried. And she had. She tried to force herself to drag the weapon the length of his neck, tried to coax body to listen to brain and part of her wondered if she would have had she not looked at his sad little round face and saw nothing but Cassidy in it.
What the fuck was she doing? What was the plan?
Angrily, Madison threw the shiv to the opposite end of the room, beads of blood trailing behind it, before wordlessly dismounting Nathan. For a moment, she just stood staring at him, her face warping in disgust. Maybe because he looked so pathetic, maybe because she was. It didn't matter.
Absently wrapping her good hand around the wounded one as if to heal it by miracle touch, she tapped Nathan's leg with the toe of her boot, likely harder than she'd intended, and spoke for what felt like the first time in hours.
“Stop being a baby and get up.”
She should've apologized. Normal, good people would have apologized.
“I'm not going to kill you, Nathan, but someone will if you don't stop acting like an idiot.”
But she didn't.
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MK Kilmarnock
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Nathan sat up, sniffled loudly, and coughed. He rubbed a sleeve under his nose to clear it of snot that started to run from all his crying. Because he could now breathe, he cried a little louder. Madison sitting atop him had quieted him down, even though he was not less sad or less scared. Breathing felt much more comfortable. It felt okay to cry.
Then Madison told him to stop crying. Nathan clenched his teeth and scrunched up his face, but the sniffling did slow down. Part of the reason was because part of his sadness had been taken away and was replaced with anger. To his teachers and his classmates, Nathan was a good kid. But just like everybody else, he had bad days. This was a truly rotten day. Madison was being mean to him and for no reason that he could think of.
"I'm not... a... baby!" Nathan spat out the words as he tightly folded his arms across his chest. He hugged his arms close to him and squeezed, squeezed as tight as he could and shook a little before releasing. Then, he pulled his glasses off his face and began to wipe them on his shirt. "Why did..."
He coughed. This meant he had to clean his glasses again, because he accidentally coughed on them. He rubbed them on his shirt, trying not to scratch them.
"Why'd you pretend? You said... you said, you were gonna kill me. But you're not gonna." Nathan felt less angry. Now he was just confused, and he tried to pull himself up to his feet after putting his glasses back on his face. Looking up at Madison for the first time since she pinned and scared him, he tried to understand the look on her face. She still seemed mad, more than anything. But maybe she was not really mad at him after all.
"Uhm.... we're in... danger, aren't we?"
Then Madison told him to stop crying. Nathan clenched his teeth and scrunched up his face, but the sniffling did slow down. Part of the reason was because part of his sadness had been taken away and was replaced with anger. To his teachers and his classmates, Nathan was a good kid. But just like everybody else, he had bad days. This was a truly rotten day. Madison was being mean to him and for no reason that he could think of.
"I'm not... a... baby!" Nathan spat out the words as he tightly folded his arms across his chest. He hugged his arms close to him and squeezed, squeezed as tight as he could and shook a little before releasing. Then, he pulled his glasses off his face and began to wipe them on his shirt. "Why did..."
He coughed. This meant he had to clean his glasses again, because he accidentally coughed on them. He rubbed them on his shirt, trying not to scratch them.
"Why'd you pretend? You said... you said, you were gonna kill me. But you're not gonna." Nathan felt less angry. Now he was just confused, and he tried to pull himself up to his feet after putting his glasses back on his face. Looking up at Madison for the first time since she pinned and scared him, he tried to understand the look on her face. She still seemed mad, more than anything. But maybe she was not really mad at him after all.
"Uhm.... we're in... danger, aren't we?"
Madison scoffed quietly and turned her attention away from Nathan, partially out of sheer annoyance, but mostly because she didn't have an answer to any of his questions. She could have told him she wanted to kill him, that there was just a thin wall of pity or sentimentality saving him for now and it was taking whatever will-power she had not to. Chances were that he'd turn tail and run as fast at his meaty little legs could carry him. Fall in a ditch and break his neck or something worse.
So instead, she ignored him for a moment, let his queries hang in the thick air around them while she rifled through her assigned bag that she'd left on one of the marble counter tops; wounded hand pressed tightly against her chest now that pain outweighed adrenaline. Absently, she dug her heels into the glass on the floor, savoring the crunch. Her family's driveway had never been finished and was little more than a sheet of gravel for as long as she could remember, but she'd always loved the sound of her parents' cars pulling in and the slow crunch of rock beneath tire. It sounded like home, as much as it could.
“Probably,” She finally answered, but it was little more than filler as she tore through her issued first aid kit, finally finding something she deemed suitable with the butterfly closures inside. Not that she had any clue how to apply them, aside from stick them on and hope for the best. Setting them aside for now, she continued hunting for hydrogen peroxide or something similar, only finding antiseptic wipes and hand sanitizer in its stead.
And maybe she was dumb or sheltered, but she'd never done anything remotely first-aid-y. That was Mom's or Dad's or the coach's or even a more capable cheerleader's job. For a moment, she thought about asking Nathan, wondered if maybe he was a boy scout or something when he wasn't being a pain in the ass, but the kid could barely tie his own shoes and was likely just as clueless as she was.
Quizzically, she looked at the wipes and decided there couldn't possibly be enough of whatever it was to disinfect her cut, so she grabbed the hand sanitizer and looked back at Nathan.
“So,” She started, nary an ounce of brightness in her voice, “If you're just gonna hang around like a lost puppy, at least be useful and come help me.”
She held out the bottle to him as well as her injured hand and pick her words carefully.
“Just put this on my cut, okay? Only a little bit, Nathan, I swear.”
So instead, she ignored him for a moment, let his queries hang in the thick air around them while she rifled through her assigned bag that she'd left on one of the marble counter tops; wounded hand pressed tightly against her chest now that pain outweighed adrenaline. Absently, she dug her heels into the glass on the floor, savoring the crunch. Her family's driveway had never been finished and was little more than a sheet of gravel for as long as she could remember, but she'd always loved the sound of her parents' cars pulling in and the slow crunch of rock beneath tire. It sounded like home, as much as it could.
“Probably,” She finally answered, but it was little more than filler as she tore through her issued first aid kit, finally finding something she deemed suitable with the butterfly closures inside. Not that she had any clue how to apply them, aside from stick them on and hope for the best. Setting them aside for now, she continued hunting for hydrogen peroxide or something similar, only finding antiseptic wipes and hand sanitizer in its stead.
And maybe she was dumb or sheltered, but she'd never done anything remotely first-aid-y. That was Mom's or Dad's or the coach's or even a more capable cheerleader's job. For a moment, she thought about asking Nathan, wondered if maybe he was a boy scout or something when he wasn't being a pain in the ass, but the kid could barely tie his own shoes and was likely just as clueless as she was.
Quizzically, she looked at the wipes and decided there couldn't possibly be enough of whatever it was to disinfect her cut, so she grabbed the hand sanitizer and looked back at Nathan.
“So,” She started, nary an ounce of brightness in her voice, “If you're just gonna hang around like a lost puppy, at least be useful and come help me.”
She held out the bottle to him as well as her injured hand and pick her words carefully.
“Just put this on my cut, okay? Only a little bit, Nathan, I swear.”
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MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 1931
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
"You think I'm a puppy?"
That made Nathan smile a little, and at least Madison had calmed down a little bit. She wasn't shouting, so that meant she wasn't angry anymore. She also looked hurt. Her knees looked all cut up, but it nothing compared to how badly her hand bled. Nathan wrinkled his nose at the sight of that cut. He hurt, just thinking about it. One of his hands tucked into the other, and he shuffled his feet.
"O.... uhm, okay." He did not want to get very close to that cut because it looked so painful, but this would help Madison. He wanted to help Madison to feel better. Plus, when he got a cut from playing and falling down, or when he tried to catch a knife that fell from the kitchen counter, his mom poured stuff on the cut. It looked a lot like this stuff.
Nathan suddenly grinned and rocked his weight back and forth, thinking about getting to help Madison like his mom helped him. He took the bottle and turned it over the cut. In his excitement, he used a bit much, but still enough to get the job done, even if there was just a little mess to go with it.
"Sorry!"
That made Nathan smile a little, and at least Madison had calmed down a little bit. She wasn't shouting, so that meant she wasn't angry anymore. She also looked hurt. Her knees looked all cut up, but it nothing compared to how badly her hand bled. Nathan wrinkled his nose at the sight of that cut. He hurt, just thinking about it. One of his hands tucked into the other, and he shuffled his feet.
"O.... uhm, okay." He did not want to get very close to that cut because it looked so painful, but this would help Madison. He wanted to help Madison to feel better. Plus, when he got a cut from playing and falling down, or when he tried to catch a knife that fell from the kitchen counter, his mom poured stuff on the cut. It looked a lot like this stuff.
Nathan suddenly grinned and rocked his weight back and forth, thinking about getting to help Madison like his mom helped him. He took the bottle and turned it over the cut. In his excitement, he used a bit much, but still enough to get the job done, even if there was just a little mess to go with it.
"Sorry!"
“Nathan!” Madison screeched, initially annoyed at his inability to follow a simple instruction before the familiar sting of alcohol coursed through her hand. Instinctively, she pull it back from Nathan and rid herself of Connor's letterman jacket, using the plasticky fabric of the sleeve to wrap her still bleeding, but now also burning hand. She'd have to wait for the bleeding to stop before using the sutures, she figured, and she doubted Connor would mind too much if his jacket helped in the meantime. Not that she very much expected to see him again. At least not alive.
She winced lightly and hoped it looked like it was from the stinging in her hand.
“That's awesome, Nathan,” She sighed, looking down at the majority of her alcohol that was now on the floor, “Gonna be really sick when something else happens and we don't have any left.”
Reclining back against the counter, her eyes scanned the room, looking for Nathan's issues pack and, by proxy, her replacement alcohol. Maybe he'd gotten something better they could use to protect themselves. Bitterly, she thought of her own issues condoms and bitterly she thought about giving one to Nathan and hoping he stuck it over his head.
“Where's your bag? The one they gave us? With your weapon in it?”
She winced lightly and hoped it looked like it was from the stinging in her hand.
“That's awesome, Nathan,” She sighed, looking down at the majority of her alcohol that was now on the floor, “Gonna be really sick when something else happens and we don't have any left.”
Reclining back against the counter, her eyes scanned the room, looking for Nathan's issues pack and, by proxy, her replacement alcohol. Maybe he'd gotten something better they could use to protect themselves. Bitterly, she thought of her own issues condoms and bitterly she thought about giving one to Nathan and hoping he stuck it over his head.
“Where's your bag? The one they gave us? With your weapon in it?”