Boy #79 - On A Memory

Start Point: Ryan Ashmore

Formerly an Open Field. The crashed remains of the terrorists' helicopter lay in the middle of the field, providing some shelter to whomever prefers to use it. Fair warning, though, of all the lurkers around the area looking for the baddies.
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Megami†
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Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 9:48 pm

Boy #79 - On A Memory

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"You know, Ryan, if you don't want to go--"

"Nah mom, it's alright. I'd kind of... like to see new places, y'know? Haven't ever been outside of New York, it'll be fun."

Flashing a worn-out smile at his mother, Ryan proceeded to clear the dishes off the table. They were the only two home that night, and suddenly his mom seemed rather uncomfortable with the fact that Ryan had signed up to go on the end-of-the-year trip at Barry Coleson High School. Cynthia scowled slightly as her son tried to reassure her that everything was going to be alright. She was not used to the idea of her family being split apart, and she did not want her eldest son going so far from home by himself, escorted only by a group of teachers who she barely knew. Much to her dismay, Ryan's father had signed the permission slip without her knowledge, and now she was in the predicament of trying to talk her son out of the decision he had made. Unfortunately, Ryan had made his decision and he was sticking with it.

"I don't see why you'd want to go. You don't even like those kids!" Cynthia suddenly blurted out.

Ryan knitted his eyebrows slightly and grimaced as his mother's sudden statement rang through his ears. Of course, she was right. He could not stand most of the kids he went to school with. For the most part, it was a mutual hatred. For whatever reason, most of the kids at school were mean to him, and he in turn did not care for them. They made fun of him all the time because he was smart. Since when was that a crime? Had Ryan been an athlete instead of a "nerd", things would have been very different. He knew that, but somehow he just did not care. Besides, he never was one to conform to society's standards anyway. Meanwhile, Cynthia immediately regretted making that statement. It was a sensitive issue with Ryan, she knew, but she just could not understand what would persuade him to go on that trip with a group of people he cared nothing for. Instantly, she felt guilty about her actions. Despite what she had said, Ryan turned to her and smiled.

"It's not the kids, mom. I'm going because I want to go. I want to see what things are like beyond here. I'd just like to travel a little, do you understand? I'm sure you and dad travelled a lot when you were younger. I just... want to know what's out there."


The argument had gone on for some time, but finally, Ryan had gotten his way, and his mother had reluctantly let him go on Barry Coleson High's end of the year trip. Everything had been going so smoothly, and Ryan had actually started to make a new friend whilst on the plane. Things could not have possibly gotten any better than they were at that moment. Unfortunately, it was at that moment that things had taken a turn for the worst. The hijacking, that horrible video of the kids killing one another, the briefing, it was almost too much for someone at the tender age of sixteen to comprehend. But, nevertheless, it had happened.

After the incidents on the plane, Ryan had been gassed and now, what seemed like days after the initial gassing, he had been dropped into a lush green field. In another time and place this would have been a peaceful area. Now, however, the vacant field screamed "danger!". Slowly, Ryan's eyes began to open. What he saw above him was a blue sky with slight tints of orange in it, it appeared to be getting dark. After a moment his eyes came into focus and he pushed himself up slightly. He had been placed squarely in the middle of a large open field. Glancing to his left and right quickly, he scanned the area, but saw nothing other than the green grass waving gently in the breeze.

Where am I?

Something else suddenly caught Ryan's attention. He was sure the noise had been resounding the entire time, but he was just now becoming coherent enough to understand what was being said. An announcement was being made. It was announcing... deaths. Ryan knitted his eyebrows and scowled. Over fifty people had died in this terrible place, and now Ryan was a part of this nightmare. As the announcement concluded, he began to panic. He was on an island. An island with killers. His breathing gradually started to increase as panic and paranoia started to sit in. On instinct, he stood up and began running. Unfortunately, he did not make it far. A green bag had been placed near him, and he went flying over it and did a face plant onto the ground.

What in the hell?!

Why was that bag there? Who the hell left their bag laying in the middle of an open field? Suddenly, it dawned on him. Perhaps that was supposed to be his bag. His bag... so he could play the game. Ryan sighed audibly. He was lost, alone, and confused. He had virtually no friends in school, even if they were on the island, they would probably shoot him on sight. His hand absent-mindedly reached toward the cold metallic object that encircled his neck. It made a clinking noise as his fingers graced it, tracing around it slowly.

I've got to get out of here... away from this place. I'm completely exposed. Someone could snipe me off at any minute!

Ryan tried to shake the thoughts from his head, but paranoia was already starting to set in. He picked up the bag from the ground, and he began to run. He could hear nothing except the wind ringing through his ears as he set off in a mad dash across the open field. Had to get out of there. Had to make it to somewhere safe. Someone could kill him. They could kill him now, while he was running. Ryan took off in a full sprint. It was the fastest he had ever moved. His face was already turning beat red. He was no athlete. He ran, blindly, through the open field, as he tried to escape the area in one piece.

((Continued in: ... Starin' Down the Barrel of a .45...))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Megami. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
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