((Continued from Left in a Tree))
Sylvea Hill, Girl 99, had fallen in a ditch and twisted her ankle. She was covered in brackish water that stunk like sewage, and it had even seeped into her panties. Sylvea didn't mind being dirty provided there was a method for becoming clean again. Aparently she was a ways away from anywhere to clean up. She also couldn't walk very far like this, at least for a day or too, let alone run.
"Fuck," She said to no-one in particular. It was a surrogate for screaming at the entire world. If she thought she could get away with it, she would have let loose with a bit more than an explitive. Sylvea had a foul mouth to match her current state. A hot shower would have been nice. Nothing would have been nicer. She hobbled over to a tree. There weren't any icepacks in the kit, and she was a long way from the residential district or the mall. They might still have the power on, and consequently some form of refrigeration unit, like a freezer to make ice in or something.
It was obious she was being watched, by cameras she couldn't see, she knew that there were hidden microphones. Hell, they've probably got the the cams angled for panty shots. Anything to please the public, I guess. More and more, she wished she was home, with her family and friends, just laughing, without a care in the world except getting a boyfriend at some point. The sick and twisted thing was, she knew that even if she did somehow get back, she'd never be able to live iike she used to.
"FUCK!" She'd accidently hit her ankle against a rock, she reached down and tried some massage to relieve the pain. Her lack of skill made it hurt worse. I better sit down. My ankle is going to swell and then get pretty bad. Goddamn it. Life really is unfair. And it's not like I'm even a bad person. She'd had a sneaking suspicion that most of the kids in the last SOTF were Bad Kids, with capitals, and that was why they were chosen. But now she wasn't so sure. Garry seemed nice enough, but whatever.
She spent the next bit of her life waiting for the ankle to stop swelling.
I do not like thee, Mr. Danya!
-
Endless_Helix†
- Posts: 92
- Joined: Mon Sep 24, 2018 3:54 am
I do not like thee, Mr. Danya!
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Endless_Helix. 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.
((Continued from What do you...?))
"Ricky!...Matti!...Whitney!...you guys around here?!?"
After leaving the hospital and his new friend to what he thought were more capable hands than his own, Vesa Turunen drifted into the vast forest to find those that were closest to him on the island. He didn't hold anything against Andi, nor did he against Peter, but he thought it would be for the better if he went off alone. He continued to wander until he saw Sylvea Hill limping; he could see that something had happened to her foot or ankle by the way she was favoring one of them. Knowing that someone that was injured could be a threat, no matter what or how bad they were hurt, Vesa kept his distance and his knife close to him.
When he saw her kick the rock and cry out like that, Vesa knew that Sylvea was at least approachable, and even moreso when she sat down to nurse her injured ankle. He kept his knife behind him so as not to appear threatening to her as he slowly jogged to where she was. "Maybe me sneaking in those extra rolls of tape was a good idea," he thought to himself as he stopped a couple feet away from her.
"Hey...are you all right?" he asked, "Looks like you took a fall somewhere...I think I can help you..."
"Ricky!...Matti!...Whitney!...you guys around here?!?"
After leaving the hospital and his new friend to what he thought were more capable hands than his own, Vesa Turunen drifted into the vast forest to find those that were closest to him on the island. He didn't hold anything against Andi, nor did he against Peter, but he thought it would be for the better if he went off alone. He continued to wander until he saw Sylvea Hill limping; he could see that something had happened to her foot or ankle by the way she was favoring one of them. Knowing that someone that was injured could be a threat, no matter what or how bad they were hurt, Vesa kept his distance and his knife close to him.
When he saw her kick the rock and cry out like that, Vesa knew that Sylvea was at least approachable, and even moreso when she sat down to nurse her injured ankle. He kept his knife behind him so as not to appear threatening to her as he slowly jogged to where she was. "Maybe me sneaking in those extra rolls of tape was a good idea," he thought to himself as he stopped a couple feet away from her.
"Hey...are you all right?" he asked, "Looks like you took a fall somewhere...I think I can help you..."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Croco. 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.
-
Endless_Helix†
- Posts: 92
- Joined: Mon Sep 24, 2018 3:54 am
Sylvea looked at the blonde giant and for a second she just wanted to give him a hug. He looked like a million dollars right about now, to use a fairly old idiom. However, this was Survival of the Fittest. This kid could be a player; he could kill her. He wasn't very far away or anything, so it didn't really matter what his weapon was. Thi guy could probably break her in half. Sylvea didn't recognize the accent he spoke with, but she assumed he either had a speach impediment or was an exchange student.
After a second she realized that he may go to her school. There was a massive swede named "Vesa" or something on the hockey team. She never really liked the hockey players much. They were, for the most part, vicious and loud.
"Uh... No, I've just twisted my ankle... I'll be fine in a few minutes. But... Hey, I'm Sylvea Hill, from Franklyn. I think I've seen you before somewhere... Are you from Franklyn too?" Sylvea was an idle chatterer. She had her gun in one hand behind her back with the saftey off, just in case things went bad. It wasn't that she expected the guy to slit her throat or anything, but there was a certain level of paranoia that had to creep into her mind. Her defense mechanism was to just spout whatever came into her head out at the world, holding nothing back. It helped to deal with all the lies and the secrecy in this whole thing.
That was the thing she hated the most. Everyone had to live a lie, if they wanted to live. "Survival of the Fittest" didn't mean being put into an unreasonable situation, like what this pathetic little show was. There were kill or be killed situations, but they didn't determine which genes became dominant. Breeding did. If some pathetic little runt bred a hundred times, his genes would survive and be passed down the line, most likely until the end of the species. It didn't matter what he did after the kids were born. As long as he didn't kill them, the species would forever be weakened. Or strengthened as the case may be.
But this mockery of Darwinian Principle, just was for creating a new craze. The political bullshit that surrounded it was just a smokescreen. The only motive that made sense for this endeavor was the money...
After a second she realized that he may go to her school. There was a massive swede named "Vesa" or something on the hockey team. She never really liked the hockey players much. They were, for the most part, vicious and loud.
"Uh... No, I've just twisted my ankle... I'll be fine in a few minutes. But... Hey, I'm Sylvea Hill, from Franklyn. I think I've seen you before somewhere... Are you from Franklyn too?" Sylvea was an idle chatterer. She had her gun in one hand behind her back with the saftey off, just in case things went bad. It wasn't that she expected the guy to slit her throat or anything, but there was a certain level of paranoia that had to creep into her mind. Her defense mechanism was to just spout whatever came into her head out at the world, holding nothing back. It helped to deal with all the lies and the secrecy in this whole thing.
That was the thing she hated the most. Everyone had to live a lie, if they wanted to live. "Survival of the Fittest" didn't mean being put into an unreasonable situation, like what this pathetic little show was. There were kill or be killed situations, but they didn't determine which genes became dominant. Breeding did. If some pathetic little runt bred a hundred times, his genes would survive and be passed down the line, most likely until the end of the species. It didn't matter what he did after the kids were born. As long as he didn't kill them, the species would forever be weakened. Or strengthened as the case may be.
But this mockery of Darwinian Principle, just was for creating a new craze. The political bullshit that surrounded it was just a smokescreen. The only motive that made sense for this endeavor was the money...
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Endless_Helix. 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.
Vesa studied Sylvea for a moment, thinking many of the same things she was probably thinking at the time...though appearing to be dimunitive to him, he knew that she could be a threat. This thought came to light when he saw the barrel of the gun she was assigned peeking out from her hip, which froze the large Finnish boy for a moment, knife ready to strike if she were to suddenly turn on him. But he knew he had seen her around before; he had a feeling she went to Franklyn and was now trying to figure out if she was in any of his classes...but he wasn't on the school's hockey team. Instead, he opted to try out for one of the two newest teams of the Atlantic Junior Hockey League, the Ocean City Dragons, dropping the jaws of his coaches and the rest of the league.
Over the course of the 54-game season, he led the league with 73 goals, 69 assists, 142 points and was third with 307 penalty minutes while serving as the Dragons' first ever captain. Everyone was coming up with their own nicknames for him; a popular one was "Finnish Fury" as he went all-out every second of every shift and played with a take-no-prisoners mentality; others included "Stalking Cat," a modified version of his moniker from Finland, while another popular one was "Rockstar" because of his long hair and habitual goal celebration of turning his stick over and playing it like a guitar. And of course, there was "Golden Boy" and even "Goldilocks" from his more good-natured teammates. No matter what people called him, Vesa led the Dragons to the finals before losing the championship to the New York Bobcats. It wasn't as bitter of a defeat for Vesa as the junior world championships in Vancouver, but he was still disappointed as he skated off the ice that day while the Bobcats celebrated their victory.
But that seemed like an eternity as he looked over the much smaller girl, smiling as she told him she went to his school. "Nice to meet you, Sylvea...I'm Vesa...Vesa Turunen." He then looked to see her ankle again and set his pack down to open it up. "Are you sure that you're okay? I'm sure there's a first-aid kit in your backpack...maybe there's an icepack or something in it. I took a couple rolls of tape from a hospital that's nearby just in case as well..."
He then turned his attention to her eyes as he found the standard-issue first aid kit in his pack and began looking through it. "And yes, I go to Franklyn too...though who did you have for your classes...and who was your homeroom teacher? I don't think I saw you in Dolph's Hellhole before..."
Over the course of the 54-game season, he led the league with 73 goals, 69 assists, 142 points and was third with 307 penalty minutes while serving as the Dragons' first ever captain. Everyone was coming up with their own nicknames for him; a popular one was "Finnish Fury" as he went all-out every second of every shift and played with a take-no-prisoners mentality; others included "Stalking Cat," a modified version of his moniker from Finland, while another popular one was "Rockstar" because of his long hair and habitual goal celebration of turning his stick over and playing it like a guitar. And of course, there was "Golden Boy" and even "Goldilocks" from his more good-natured teammates. No matter what people called him, Vesa led the Dragons to the finals before losing the championship to the New York Bobcats. It wasn't as bitter of a defeat for Vesa as the junior world championships in Vancouver, but he was still disappointed as he skated off the ice that day while the Bobcats celebrated their victory.
But that seemed like an eternity as he looked over the much smaller girl, smiling as she told him she went to his school. "Nice to meet you, Sylvea...I'm Vesa...Vesa Turunen." He then looked to see her ankle again and set his pack down to open it up. "Are you sure that you're okay? I'm sure there's a first-aid kit in your backpack...maybe there's an icepack or something in it. I took a couple rolls of tape from a hospital that's nearby just in case as well..."
He then turned his attention to her eyes as he found the standard-issue first aid kit in his pack and began looking through it. "And yes, I go to Franklyn too...though who did you have for your classes...and who was your homeroom teacher? I don't think I saw you in Dolph's Hellhole before..."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Croco. 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.
-
Endless_Helix†
- Posts: 92
- Joined: Mon Sep 24, 2018 3:54 am
"That's because I had that tight-ass Mr.Duana. I didn't have Mr.Dolph for english, thank God," Sylvea grinned, "I'd heard he was quite the perv..."
The tension was killing her. It was a palpable barrier that was crushing her chest (as tiny as it was) and preventing her from geting a good lungful of air. Vesa, was getting way too close for Sylvea. He could really just be some psychopathic creep out to rape her and kill her. There was something odd about the way he was keeping one hand behind his back, hidiing whatever he was holding from view. It made her suspicious.
She began speculating what weapon he had, but all she knew was that it was smaller than a rifle, something concealable. She put her bets down for an Uzi or a Combat Knife. He just seemed the type. Odds were, in her mind, more favorable for the Uzi. It would be a massive confidence boost, which would probably help him keep calm.
"Hey, what're hiding behind your back?" She fingered her pistol, she didn't know the name; guns really weren't her thing. Neither was hurting people. She survived highschool up till now by being too nice to attack physically and by being friends with alot of the kids who were mean in a fight. She had a lot friends, and possibly, quite a few of them were on the island. She really couldn't stand the idea of friends killing friends. It just meant that the whole sickness got sicker. She hated this place. It was going to get her, sooner or later.
The tension was killing her. It was a palpable barrier that was crushing her chest (as tiny as it was) and preventing her from geting a good lungful of air. Vesa, was getting way too close for Sylvea. He could really just be some psychopathic creep out to rape her and kill her. There was something odd about the way he was keeping one hand behind his back, hidiing whatever he was holding from view. It made her suspicious.
She began speculating what weapon he had, but all she knew was that it was smaller than a rifle, something concealable. She put her bets down for an Uzi or a Combat Knife. He just seemed the type. Odds were, in her mind, more favorable for the Uzi. It would be a massive confidence boost, which would probably help him keep calm.
"Hey, what're hiding behind your back?" She fingered her pistol, she didn't know the name; guns really weren't her thing. Neither was hurting people. She survived highschool up till now by being too nice to attack physically and by being friends with alot of the kids who were mean in a fight. She had a lot friends, and possibly, quite a few of them were on the island. She really couldn't stand the idea of friends killing friends. It just meant that the whole sickness got sicker. She hated this place. It was going to get her, sooner or later.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Endless_Helix. 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.
"Pah, tell me about it...I wish those bastards would have kept him alive." growled Vesa, "But how was having Duana lucky? I heard some stories about him..." Vesa didn't want to reveal the diver's knife he had hidden behind his back yet; he was certain that if Sylvea saw it. her instincts would trigger her to fire at him. He kept the blade behind his back, not wanting to take any chances.
"It's for me to know and for you to find out if someone were to, say, jump us from behind one of those trees." He hadn't become a psychotic killer...yet, but Vesa had a feeling that if he were to get a taste of blood in this twisted game that he and Sylvea were thrown into, he would turn into one. A sigh escaped from the towering Finn's lips as he rose to his feet again and leaned against a tree. "You're not gonna turn me into a killer, Danya..." he thought to himself, "You sick son of a bitch...I will not fall your little ploy. I will not kill for pleasure...for your pleasure..."
There was no way around it and Vesa knew it, finally revealing what Sylvea had figured all along. "I do not want to kill you, Sylvea...if anyone, I would like to finish off Barrett and his gang if they're here...or if I can find him...do you know a kid named Eric Silvestedt?"
"It's for me to know and for you to find out if someone were to, say, jump us from behind one of those trees." He hadn't become a psychotic killer...yet, but Vesa had a feeling that if he were to get a taste of blood in this twisted game that he and Sylvea were thrown into, he would turn into one. A sigh escaped from the towering Finn's lips as he rose to his feet again and leaned against a tree. "You're not gonna turn me into a killer, Danya..." he thought to himself, "You sick son of a bitch...I will not fall your little ploy. I will not kill for pleasure...for your pleasure..."
There was no way around it and Vesa knew it, finally revealing what Sylvea had figured all along. "I do not want to kill you, Sylvea...if anyone, I would like to finish off Barrett and his gang if they're here...or if I can find him...do you know a kid named Eric Silvestedt?"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Croco. 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.
-
Endless_Helix†
- Posts: 92
- Joined: Mon Sep 24, 2018 3:54 am
"I never said it was lucky, just better than Dolph, but, you see... I'm kind of paranoid. If you had no intention of hurting me, you'd have shown me what you had behind your back. Hands up! Let's see what you've got in those grubby little mitts," Sylvea smiled a little as she quickly drew the pistol from behind her back. The half-light of the forest glinted off the of the barrel. She pointed it at his chest. She hated herself for doing this, but there wasn't any other option in her mind.
"And yeah, I know Eric Silvstedt. I went to elementary school with him. Drop your goddamn weapon, Vesa."
Sylvea kept her eyes on Vesa, her finger riding the trigger. If he so mcuh as fucking twitched, he was going to die. She was going to survive this mockery and put a bullet in that fucker Danya's head. She hated this place, this environment, and it was getting to her. She'd never been this tense in her life. Her shoulders were like bricks. The firm weight of the pistol gave her a little confidence, but she was still scared out of her wits. It was said that bullies acted out because they were afraid of becoming the second-class citizens. Sylvea knew the feeling right now, except that she was far more scared of becoming a corpse than of becoming a second class citizen.
She'd never dreamed of killing somebody in her life. Hell, she was vegitarian because she couldn't stand the thought of animals getting hurt. But here she was, pointing a gun at someone who was equally willing to put her into an early grave as she was willing to put him down for the count. It was unfortunate, but so were a lot of things. it was a shame, but so was this whole damn island. Sylvea felt a wierd sort of calm come over her, unlike anything she'd ever experienced. Anyone who'd fought in a war would have recognized it as CZD, Combat Zone Disorder. She was developing extreme sociopathic and psychopathic tendencies. She felt no guilt for her actions and the lives of her classmates meant nothing to her. She didn't feel any adrenaline rush, just a horrifying cold, calculated calm.
"And yeah, I know Eric Silvstedt. I went to elementary school with him. Drop your goddamn weapon, Vesa."
Sylvea kept her eyes on Vesa, her finger riding the trigger. If he so mcuh as fucking twitched, he was going to die. She was going to survive this mockery and put a bullet in that fucker Danya's head. She hated this place, this environment, and it was getting to her. She'd never been this tense in her life. Her shoulders were like bricks. The firm weight of the pistol gave her a little confidence, but she was still scared out of her wits. It was said that bullies acted out because they were afraid of becoming the second-class citizens. Sylvea knew the feeling right now, except that she was far more scared of becoming a corpse than of becoming a second class citizen.
She'd never dreamed of killing somebody in her life. Hell, she was vegitarian because she couldn't stand the thought of animals getting hurt. But here she was, pointing a gun at someone who was equally willing to put her into an early grave as she was willing to put him down for the count. It was unfortunate, but so were a lot of things. it was a shame, but so was this whole damn island. Sylvea felt a wierd sort of calm come over her, unlike anything she'd ever experienced. Anyone who'd fought in a war would have recognized it as CZD, Combat Zone Disorder. She was developing extreme sociopathic and psychopathic tendencies. She felt no guilt for her actions and the lives of her classmates meant nothing to her. She didn't feel any adrenaline rush, just a horrifying cold, calculated calm.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Endless_Helix. 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.
Vesa was taken aghast by the sudden turn of aggression by Sylvea as she pointed the gun at him. Even though he had a feeling that she was harmless to begin with, there was no telling what she could do...he knew that Survival of the Fittest had a way of turning even the most harmless kids into cold-hearted killers. He had watched the spectacle unfold in Finland as it was broadcast in pretty much every country in the world; like many, he was mortified by the display of raw violence and bloodshed that erupted the year before.
That was the last thing on his mind as Vesa stared down the barrel of the Beretta pistol Sylvea had in her hand. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said, taking the knife out from behind his back, "Not if you value your life...I don't wanna kill anyone, but I will if I have to...now, put your weapon down." He pointed the knife at her, muscles tensing in preparation of making a strike if he needed to. Still, he was only prepared to use the knife as a means of self-defense as he stared her down.
"I see...and I hope that I run into Silvstedt soon," said Vesa, his heart beating a little faster than before, the adrenaline starting to flow through his veins. "And I could care less if...you're paranoid...and...and..." He couldn't take it any more, his head quivering as he lashed out, swinging the knife at Sylvea's chest before leaping back. "Arvioida se heittää, eli hankkiutua jotta kuihtua!" (Put it down, or prepare to die!)
That was the last thing on his mind as Vesa stared down the barrel of the Beretta pistol Sylvea had in her hand. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said, taking the knife out from behind his back, "Not if you value your life...I don't wanna kill anyone, but I will if I have to...now, put your weapon down." He pointed the knife at her, muscles tensing in preparation of making a strike if he needed to. Still, he was only prepared to use the knife as a means of self-defense as he stared her down.
"I see...and I hope that I run into Silvstedt soon," said Vesa, his heart beating a little faster than before, the adrenaline starting to flow through his veins. "And I could care less if...you're paranoid...and...and..." He couldn't take it any more, his head quivering as he lashed out, swinging the knife at Sylvea's chest before leaping back. "Arvioida se heittää, eli hankkiutua jotta kuihtua!" (Put it down, or prepare to die!)
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Croco. 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.
-
Endless_Helix†
- Posts: 92
- Joined: Mon Sep 24, 2018 3:54 am
Not a muscle in Sylvea's face moved. She saw the knife, and immediately knew this kid was a player. He hid the damn weapon from her; if Vesa wasn't a player, he probably would have had the weapon out in the open, a bluff to discourage any assaults. Her addled brains didn't even consider what this made her. It all came down to her size, really. They assumed that she wasn't a threat. They were usually right; under normal conditions Sylvea wouldn't hurt a fly. It still got under her skin, though. She knew that if worse came to worst she could definately outrun the Fin, but, she knew that it was most likely unnecessary.
As soon as that outburst in Swedish or whatver that damn foreigner spoke, Sylvea's finger pulled the trigger, almost intstantly there was a thunder and a discharge. The bullet flew towords Vesa's chest, screaming it's hatred and fear for one who was now psychologically incapable of feeling those emotions. Not a muscle moved in Sylvea's psychotic little smile. In her mind, it all made perfect sense. Vesa wanted to kill her; she would kill him first and remove the danger, like a surgeon. It was self defense and there was no-one who would blame her for what she did, not that she cared at this point.
Bang, said a hollow, ignored voice deep in Sylvea's soul, I'm not me anymore. This damn game even took that from me.
As soon as that outburst in Swedish or whatver that damn foreigner spoke, Sylvea's finger pulled the trigger, almost intstantly there was a thunder and a discharge. The bullet flew towords Vesa's chest, screaming it's hatred and fear for one who was now psychologically incapable of feeling those emotions. Not a muscle moved in Sylvea's psychotic little smile. In her mind, it all made perfect sense. Vesa wanted to kill her; she would kill him first and remove the danger, like a surgeon. It was self defense and there was no-one who would blame her for what she did, not that she cared at this point.
Bang, said a hollow, ignored voice deep in Sylvea's soul, I'm not me anymore. This damn game even took that from me.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Endless_Helix. 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.
BANG...
Vesa couldn't believe that the girl would actually fire on him, but he found himself instinctively rolling to the side, the bullet narrowly missing his right arm by mere millimeters. Heart racing, he looked up and eyed Sylvea with a fire in his eye he never knew he had; sure it always came to him just before he stepped out onto the ice or before he would go out into the wilderness. He had heard of Sylvea Hill before from those he knew at Franklyn...and from what he heard, she was one that got enjoyment out of being in nature...a lot like him. He respected her for it, even though there were those that didn't.
And though it wasn't that long ago he was talking about writing a legacy in blood with the first kid he encountered, the large, imposing Finnish boy didn't want to kill anyone. Of course, there was the rare scenario where he would have to defend himself or an ally, but he didn't think that it would come up so quickly, if at all.
Oh, how things can change in the blink of an eye...
Without thought, Vesa lunged at Sylvea and knocked the arm holding the gun away from him before she had time to fire another shot. Seething through his teeth, his free hand came up to cover her mouth in preparation for what came next. He found himself sliding in behind Sylvea and leveling the diving knife to her throat, the survival instinct kicking in. Before he knew what he was doing, he made a slashing motion with his hand, cutting into the girl's flesh...which made the hand covering her mouth make sense. If someone was out for his head, then noise would be an enemy as she would have surely screamed out. For that, Vesa held his hand against her mouth harder as the knife ripped across her throat again.
"Kuihtua..." (Die...) he growled, the blood of Sylvea Hill pouring out over her shirt and staining his hand. Whether he wanted it or not...or even if he knew it yet, Vesa Turunen was getting his first taste of blood in the game as he stuck the knife in Sylvea's throat a third time. "KUIHTUA, TE ARVOTON KOIRANPENTU!!!" (Die, you undignified whelp!)
Vesa couldn't believe that the girl would actually fire on him, but he found himself instinctively rolling to the side, the bullet narrowly missing his right arm by mere millimeters. Heart racing, he looked up and eyed Sylvea with a fire in his eye he never knew he had; sure it always came to him just before he stepped out onto the ice or before he would go out into the wilderness. He had heard of Sylvea Hill before from those he knew at Franklyn...and from what he heard, she was one that got enjoyment out of being in nature...a lot like him. He respected her for it, even though there were those that didn't.
And though it wasn't that long ago he was talking about writing a legacy in blood with the first kid he encountered, the large, imposing Finnish boy didn't want to kill anyone. Of course, there was the rare scenario where he would have to defend himself or an ally, but he didn't think that it would come up so quickly, if at all.
Oh, how things can change in the blink of an eye...
Without thought, Vesa lunged at Sylvea and knocked the arm holding the gun away from him before she had time to fire another shot. Seething through his teeth, his free hand came up to cover her mouth in preparation for what came next. He found himself sliding in behind Sylvea and leveling the diving knife to her throat, the survival instinct kicking in. Before he knew what he was doing, he made a slashing motion with his hand, cutting into the girl's flesh...which made the hand covering her mouth make sense. If someone was out for his head, then noise would be an enemy as she would have surely screamed out. For that, Vesa held his hand against her mouth harder as the knife ripped across her throat again.
"Kuihtua..." (Die...) he growled, the blood of Sylvea Hill pouring out over her shirt and staining his hand. Whether he wanted it or not...or even if he knew it yet, Vesa Turunen was getting his first taste of blood in the game as he stuck the knife in Sylvea's throat a third time. "KUIHTUA, TE ARVOTON KOIRANPENTU!!!" (Die, you undignified whelp!)
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Croco. 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.
-
Endless_Helix†
- Posts: 92
- Joined: Mon Sep 24, 2018 3:54 am
((OOC: Careful there, Croco. A little tight with the options you've left me...))
When the edge of the knife came down on her throat, Sylvea counted herself lucky. If you wanted to slit someone's throat, you pierced the throat first, and then pulled the knife towords the edge. A quick slicing motion bounced off of all the layers of sinew and dense muscle tissue in the neck. Not many people knew the correct method of slitting a throat. She now knew that this idiot was not a killer at heart. The way he botched the job was closer to a medical technique, usually to save a person's life from choking on something before it can be surgically removed.
His cut really wasn't that deep; throat wounds tend to bleed a lot, particularly on the front of the neck near the trachea. So she laughed as the precious lifeblood poured down her shirt. It hurt like fuck to do it, but the effect was priceless. She bit the hand on her mouth and used that second it bought her to spin within his grip. Sylvea grabbed his knife arm; she didn't want to get stabbed again. Sylvea was physically quite fit, and trying to stab her again would take a lot of effort.
Still laughing she punched the barrel of the pistol into his gag reflex, located just under the solarplexus. It was times like these she really liked being a biology nerd. She knew at least a hundred spots on the body that could cause immense ammounts of pain, prevent mobility, and numerous other useful effects.
"What? Do you think I'm just going to roll over and let you kill me?" She smiled as she pulled the trigger, "I don't know about you, but I'm pretty excited about survival. It's better than the alternative."
When the edge of the knife came down on her throat, Sylvea counted herself lucky. If you wanted to slit someone's throat, you pierced the throat first, and then pulled the knife towords the edge. A quick slicing motion bounced off of all the layers of sinew and dense muscle tissue in the neck. Not many people knew the correct method of slitting a throat. She now knew that this idiot was not a killer at heart. The way he botched the job was closer to a medical technique, usually to save a person's life from choking on something before it can be surgically removed.
His cut really wasn't that deep; throat wounds tend to bleed a lot, particularly on the front of the neck near the trachea. So she laughed as the precious lifeblood poured down her shirt. It hurt like fuck to do it, but the effect was priceless. She bit the hand on her mouth and used that second it bought her to spin within his grip. Sylvea grabbed his knife arm; she didn't want to get stabbed again. Sylvea was physically quite fit, and trying to stab her again would take a lot of effort.
Still laughing she punched the barrel of the pistol into his gag reflex, located just under the solarplexus. It was times like these she really liked being a biology nerd. She knew at least a hundred spots on the body that could cause immense ammounts of pain, prevent mobility, and numerous other useful effects.
"What? Do you think I'm just going to roll over and let you kill me?" She smiled as she pulled the trigger, "I don't know about you, but I'm pretty excited about survival. It's better than the alternative."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Endless_Helix. 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.
((OOC: I knew I was stepping pretty close to the line with that one...appreciate the feedback there.))
It had worked so many times in the movies...the killer would sneak in behind his victim and slice their throat. But this was no movie; in fact, it only served to bring the fight out of his victim as Vesa continued his attempt to subdue Sylvea. He growled when she bit down on his fingers, causing him to pull away from her for a brief moment, but that was enough to give her the chance to pull the arm away. Deciding that it would be in his best interest to go along with her for the moment, Vesa let the knife hand drop, knowing it wouldn't be a good idea to try and mount another attack.
But then he felt the barrel of the pistol as it was thrust into his stomach. It stung like hell, the feeling akin to taking an 80 mph slapshot to the chest in pads not designed for prolonged shots to the chest. Vesa dropped to one knee, bent over from the impact as he groaned from the pain in his stomach. He lifted himself up just in time to see Sylvea leveling the pistol toward him, a smile forming on his face. "How ironic that I'm gonna be done in by a short little nerdy girl...and one that doesn't look that strong to boot." he thought to himself as he made a last-ditch effort to keep Sylvea from turning the tables on him.
Adrenaline kicking in, Vesa lunged for the hand that Sylvea was holding the gun in. By some sheer stroke of luck, he was able to deflect her hand enough so that the bullet missed him completely. This was the break that Vesa needed as he rose to his feet and began pushing her back into a tree, the knife once again destined for her throat. But this time, he had learned his lesson as he began to thrust it toward her Adam's apple. If he wanted to, the powerful Finn could drive it all the way through her neck so that the tip came out the back of her head.
But he knew that she would resist as Vesa's free hand moved to neutralize the gun hand, holding it away from him. He knew she was going to resist as he peered down at her, eyes bloodshot as he began to quiver a bit. "Don't tell me about survival!" he growled, the knife getting closer to piercing her skin again, "I like this staying alive thing too...but we all...must meet our end..." His breaths becoming shallower, Vesa was finally able to drive the blade into her throat...
((Hopefully I didn't go too far with this one...))
It had worked so many times in the movies...the killer would sneak in behind his victim and slice their throat. But this was no movie; in fact, it only served to bring the fight out of his victim as Vesa continued his attempt to subdue Sylvea. He growled when she bit down on his fingers, causing him to pull away from her for a brief moment, but that was enough to give her the chance to pull the arm away. Deciding that it would be in his best interest to go along with her for the moment, Vesa let the knife hand drop, knowing it wouldn't be a good idea to try and mount another attack.
But then he felt the barrel of the pistol as it was thrust into his stomach. It stung like hell, the feeling akin to taking an 80 mph slapshot to the chest in pads not designed for prolonged shots to the chest. Vesa dropped to one knee, bent over from the impact as he groaned from the pain in his stomach. He lifted himself up just in time to see Sylvea leveling the pistol toward him, a smile forming on his face. "How ironic that I'm gonna be done in by a short little nerdy girl...and one that doesn't look that strong to boot." he thought to himself as he made a last-ditch effort to keep Sylvea from turning the tables on him.
Adrenaline kicking in, Vesa lunged for the hand that Sylvea was holding the gun in. By some sheer stroke of luck, he was able to deflect her hand enough so that the bullet missed him completely. This was the break that Vesa needed as he rose to his feet and began pushing her back into a tree, the knife once again destined for her throat. But this time, he had learned his lesson as he began to thrust it toward her Adam's apple. If he wanted to, the powerful Finn could drive it all the way through her neck so that the tip came out the back of her head.
But he knew that she would resist as Vesa's free hand moved to neutralize the gun hand, holding it away from him. He knew she was going to resist as he peered down at her, eyes bloodshot as he began to quiver a bit. "Don't tell me about survival!" he growled, the knife getting closer to piercing her skin again, "I like this staying alive thing too...but we all...must meet our end..." His breaths becoming shallower, Vesa was finally able to drive the blade into her throat...
((Hopefully I didn't go too far with this one...))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Croco. 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.
-
Endless_Helix†
- Posts: 92
- Joined: Mon Sep 24, 2018 3:54 am
(Much better, but still a little tight... But, much better. Also, I strongly doubt Vesa could drive even a diving knife all the way through her neck. The spinal column would get in the way...)
Well, If I can't kill him without dying... I'll take him with me! Sylvea felt knife enter the side of her throat and something in her neck snapped. She didn't feel a thing. Sylvea tried to smile but her face wouldn't move. She glanced her hand; the gun had fallen out of it. Groggily she willed her arm to pick up the gun that had fallen on the ground. All too quickly the ground ran up to meet her, and that was when she knew for sure. She was dead. She landed with her neck at an unnatural angle, so she could watch the blood spray out of the Jugular vein in her neck... Hell, the bone was exposed; her fall opened up the wound. It was unfortunate how much of the spray got in her face... She couldn't feel it, but it did get into her eyes, and that was annoying. She couldn't cry, she could only watch in numb fascination as her body ceased functioning. She could smell a slight coppery odor, but attributed it to the blood.
It was a fine spring day, oh, four or five years ago. It was Sylvea's seventh grade year. Sylvea was smiling at a dragonfly as it wove patterns into the invisible aether that we breathe. Her hair was short, only down to her ears, and it was thoroughly mussed. In fact, there were two twigs, a leaf, and a tent caterpillar in her hair that this moment. Until a little while ago, there was a small garden snake on her ear, but once she laid down on the grass it slithered off somewhere warmer. She didn't have exceptional circulation.
So she decided to get up and walk around, for no reason. It was spring break for her school, and her parents had decided that a trip up to Vermont was in order. Mr. Hill's work was giving him a few problems, and he'd just gotten into the clear. This little camping trip was his reward to himself for dealing with all the office crap that got flung his way. It was to last about a week. She wandered about the woods, whistling. She heard a loud "bang" and ran toword it. In the distance, she saw two men walk around a large brown lump. As Sylvea edged closer she saw it was a deer. A male. She knew enough about hunting to know that it was way out of season, but she didn't want to let the two men know that she was watching.
"Hell, it's a small one. If this were a fish, I'da thrown it back."
"Yeah, well, it is pretty young. By fall this woulda made a good catch. You wanna gut it or should we have Vinnie do it?"
"Vinnie. It's a pain to do out here. Hey, it's still kicking! Pass the knife. I'll do the job."
There was a cracking noise, and the sound of liquid spraying wildily. At that moment, Sylvea declared herself a vegetarian.
Focus! You're going to die!
A small charm she kept around her neck at all times. It was a golden dolphin.
FOCUS!
A drawing she made two years ago of a cat, sleeping on a couch.
Her childhood house in Trenton.
Her mother's cookies.
Her father's smile with one gold tooth
The divet in her finger from when she accidently slammed her finger in the car door three days ago.
FEMALE STUDENT NO. 99 - SYLVEA HILL - DECEASED
Well, If I can't kill him without dying... I'll take him with me! Sylvea felt knife enter the side of her throat and something in her neck snapped. She didn't feel a thing. Sylvea tried to smile but her face wouldn't move. She glanced her hand; the gun had fallen out of it. Groggily she willed her arm to pick up the gun that had fallen on the ground. All too quickly the ground ran up to meet her, and that was when she knew for sure. She was dead. She landed with her neck at an unnatural angle, so she could watch the blood spray out of the Jugular vein in her neck... Hell, the bone was exposed; her fall opened up the wound. It was unfortunate how much of the spray got in her face... She couldn't feel it, but it did get into her eyes, and that was annoying. She couldn't cry, she could only watch in numb fascination as her body ceased functioning. She could smell a slight coppery odor, but attributed it to the blood.
It was a fine spring day, oh, four or five years ago. It was Sylvea's seventh grade year. Sylvea was smiling at a dragonfly as it wove patterns into the invisible aether that we breathe. Her hair was short, only down to her ears, and it was thoroughly mussed. In fact, there were two twigs, a leaf, and a tent caterpillar in her hair that this moment. Until a little while ago, there was a small garden snake on her ear, but once she laid down on the grass it slithered off somewhere warmer. She didn't have exceptional circulation.
So she decided to get up and walk around, for no reason. It was spring break for her school, and her parents had decided that a trip up to Vermont was in order. Mr. Hill's work was giving him a few problems, and he'd just gotten into the clear. This little camping trip was his reward to himself for dealing with all the office crap that got flung his way. It was to last about a week. She wandered about the woods, whistling. She heard a loud "bang" and ran toword it. In the distance, she saw two men walk around a large brown lump. As Sylvea edged closer she saw it was a deer. A male. She knew enough about hunting to know that it was way out of season, but she didn't want to let the two men know that she was watching.
"Hell, it's a small one. If this were a fish, I'da thrown it back."
"Yeah, well, it is pretty young. By fall this woulda made a good catch. You wanna gut it or should we have Vinnie do it?"
"Vinnie. It's a pain to do out here. Hey, it's still kicking! Pass the knife. I'll do the job."
There was a cracking noise, and the sound of liquid spraying wildily. At that moment, Sylvea declared herself a vegetarian.
Focus! You're going to die!
A small charm she kept around her neck at all times. It was a golden dolphin.
FOCUS!
A drawing she made two years ago of a cat, sleeping on a couch.
Her childhood house in Trenton.
Her mother's cookies.
Her father's smile with one gold tooth
The divet in her finger from when she accidently slammed her finger in the car door three days ago.
FEMALE STUDENT NO. 99 - SYLVEA HILL - DECEASED
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Endless_Helix. 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.
((I was thinking that too...though you never know once the adrenaline kicks in. You've heard stories of how people have had brief moments of superhuman strength, no?))
"Hiippakunta te kotona helvetti, kettutyttö!" (See you in hell, tree hugger!) Vesa screamed before pulling the knife out of Sylvea's neck. He huffed before clutching his stomach and dropping to the ground, two bodies falling to the forest floor as Vesa collapsed before his eyes closed. He had done it...he had taken another human being's life...but he didn't know what he was doing as he had slipped into a separate state of consciousness...one that comes over him when he is involved in a fight. The adrenaline started to die off as Vesa laid near Sylvea's corpse, the stinging where she jabbed the pistol into his stomach starting to make its presence known.
Thirty minutes had passed since Sylvea's death...
Vesa's eyes opened as he slowly awoke, taking in his surroundings with a look of confusion on his face. "What...what the hell?" he thought aloud to himself as he started to walk around, occasionally clutching his midsection as the pain began to slowly dull. He looked down at his hand and saw that he didn't have his knife with him. "Great...don't wanna be completely helpless..." he said to himself as he trudged back to where he was passed out.
And then he saw the dead girl, lying beside the knife that was used to kill her...
Vesa froze dead in his tracks, taken aghast by the sight before him. There was no way in hell he could have done this, he thought to himself as he looked over Sylvea's body. Thinking it'd be best to secure the contents of her pack before any scavengers came for her, Vesa opened her pack and immediately seized the gun, a couple clips of ammunition that were given to her as well as her game rations. After all, this was a test of survival and he was going to need all the help he could get if he were to make it out alive. But then he took notice of the body in front of him before looking down at his shirt, which was dotted with numerous splotches of her blood.
"No...there's no way I could have done this," said Vesa, his voice shaken, the prospect of him committing this horrific act of violence beginning to set in. Still, he didn't want to think about it. "Yeah...maybe someone else did it while I was out..."
Then he heard another voice and snapped his head around to see where it was coming from. But when Vesa didn't see anyone around in the immediate area, he began to question himself.
"I must be dreaming."
"You're not dreaming...this is real...and the blood of that girl...that whelp as you so eloquently described her...is on your hands..."
"No..." Vesa began looking around for anyone...perhaps someone that saw the killing...to disprove him. But the voice in his head continued to laugh at him, making him quiver where he stood.
"That girl is dead and there's no one to blame but yourself...Vesa Tauno Janne Turunen..."
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" Vesa dropped to his knees, lifting his head to the sky while raising the blood-stained knife over his head. "DANYA!!! I'm coming for you, motherfucker! You're not gonna turn me into a pawn for your amusement, you sick son of a bitch!"
Shaken by what he had just done, Vesa ran off deeper into the forest, trying to get the thought out of his head. He was now in the game, and there was nothing he could do about it...
((Continued in A Brewing Storm))
"Hiippakunta te kotona helvetti, kettutyttö!" (See you in hell, tree hugger!) Vesa screamed before pulling the knife out of Sylvea's neck. He huffed before clutching his stomach and dropping to the ground, two bodies falling to the forest floor as Vesa collapsed before his eyes closed. He had done it...he had taken another human being's life...but he didn't know what he was doing as he had slipped into a separate state of consciousness...one that comes over him when he is involved in a fight. The adrenaline started to die off as Vesa laid near Sylvea's corpse, the stinging where she jabbed the pistol into his stomach starting to make its presence known.
Thirty minutes had passed since Sylvea's death...
Vesa's eyes opened as he slowly awoke, taking in his surroundings with a look of confusion on his face. "What...what the hell?" he thought aloud to himself as he started to walk around, occasionally clutching his midsection as the pain began to slowly dull. He looked down at his hand and saw that he didn't have his knife with him. "Great...don't wanna be completely helpless..." he said to himself as he trudged back to where he was passed out.
And then he saw the dead girl, lying beside the knife that was used to kill her...
Vesa froze dead in his tracks, taken aghast by the sight before him. There was no way in hell he could have done this, he thought to himself as he looked over Sylvea's body. Thinking it'd be best to secure the contents of her pack before any scavengers came for her, Vesa opened her pack and immediately seized the gun, a couple clips of ammunition that were given to her as well as her game rations. After all, this was a test of survival and he was going to need all the help he could get if he were to make it out alive. But then he took notice of the body in front of him before looking down at his shirt, which was dotted with numerous splotches of her blood.
"No...there's no way I could have done this," said Vesa, his voice shaken, the prospect of him committing this horrific act of violence beginning to set in. Still, he didn't want to think about it. "Yeah...maybe someone else did it while I was out..."
Then he heard another voice and snapped his head around to see where it was coming from. But when Vesa didn't see anyone around in the immediate area, he began to question himself.
"I must be dreaming."
"You're not dreaming...this is real...and the blood of that girl...that whelp as you so eloquently described her...is on your hands..."
"No..." Vesa began looking around for anyone...perhaps someone that saw the killing...to disprove him. But the voice in his head continued to laugh at him, making him quiver where he stood.
"That girl is dead and there's no one to blame but yourself...Vesa Tauno Janne Turunen..."
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" Vesa dropped to his knees, lifting his head to the sky while raising the blood-stained knife over his head. "DANYA!!! I'm coming for you, motherfucker! You're not gonna turn me into a pawn for your amusement, you sick son of a bitch!"
Shaken by what he had just done, Vesa ran off deeper into the forest, trying to get the thought out of his head. He was now in the game, and there was nothing he could do about it...
((Continued in A Brewing Storm))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Croco. 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.