((Maxim Kehlenbrink continued from We Are Monsters))
Ben.
Not Fields. Fields was dead. While Maxim was with Brendan, Ben was being killed. Good. Ben deserved to die. Ben was terrible. Ben rejected him. Time and time again. Well there'd be no more rejection.
But Lichter. Ben Lichter. His travelling companion and friend for the first day. He'd seen him leaving. He tried yelling. His voice wouldn't go loud enough. He tried making noise. Nothing. He tried chasing after him. His lungs twisted and burned. Once again they were so close. But once again they were so far away.
Maxim looked for Brendan. He chased him. He fell down the hill. He lost Brendan. He looked, and looked, and looked all day but neither him nor the boy he ran after nor the girls he left behind were there. He was alone again. His hope returned when he saw Ben, but he never caught up to Ben.
He'd vomited again. Not on himself. It decorated the point of his chin, the back of his hand. His clothes were still clean. His clothes would remain clean.
The library was a shell. A burnt shell. Bookcases twisted and crumpled. Books turned to ash. A solitary chair remained. The rest had been smashed or burned. Maxim sat firmly on this chair.
The bow, which had remained unused in his bag for almost a week. was sitting in his hands.
But there was something missing. Not the arrow. It sat in the notch.
But something else.
This Nearly Was Mine
private; afternoon - day 8
((Vanessa Stone continued from Keep Cam and Carry On))
Another day, another lot of nothing.
Yeah, more people were dead, but that was really starting to lose all impact. Kind of a suck way fo looking at it, but it was the truth. Kaitlyn had bit the dust too, and it had been a surprise, but she had to keep moving forward. Alessio was still kicking, after all, and that's what mattered. It'd be pretty stupid if she'd spent all this time looking for a corpse, after all.
Vanessa's travels had led her to the cindered ruins of the library, its smoky ashes standing out even against the rest of the island. Whoever had done this must've really hated books.
She let out a half-hearted snort. Her wisecracks were starting to feel pretty wasted with no-one to hear them.
As she rounded a corner, weaving through the remains of the bookshelves out of sheer boredom, she chanced across Maxim. She froze for a moment, taking her measure of him. He wasn't someone she recognised, which meant she didn't know what he'd been up to. Meeting Kimiko had been a lesson on what that could mean.
"Heeeeey." she trawled out, keeping a distance as her eyes glanced at the bow and arrow sitting in Maxim's hands. Whatever, she wasn't here to pick a fight.
Another day, another lot of nothing.
Yeah, more people were dead, but that was really starting to lose all impact. Kind of a suck way fo looking at it, but it was the truth. Kaitlyn had bit the dust too, and it had been a surprise, but she had to keep moving forward. Alessio was still kicking, after all, and that's what mattered. It'd be pretty stupid if she'd spent all this time looking for a corpse, after all.
Vanessa's travels had led her to the cindered ruins of the library, its smoky ashes standing out even against the rest of the island. Whoever had done this must've really hated books.
She let out a half-hearted snort. Her wisecracks were starting to feel pretty wasted with no-one to hear them.
As she rounded a corner, weaving through the remains of the bookshelves out of sheer boredom, she chanced across Maxim. She froze for a moment, taking her measure of him. He wasn't someone she recognised, which meant she didn't know what he'd been up to. Meeting Kimiko had been a lesson on what that could mean.
"Heeeeey." she trawled out, keeping a distance as her eyes glanced at the bow and arrow sitting in Maxim's hands. Whatever, she wasn't here to pick a fight.
A girl. Nobody he knew. She was dark. Exotic. Not a word he used. But it fit. He didn't know her name.
She was keeping her distance. He must have looked dangerous. He wasn't. Supposed to, at least. Or maybe he was. He didn't know. He wanted to look it. He wanted to be it. He wanted to live it.
Cocksucker. It was the bow. Its topmost word. Cocksucker. Cocksucker. It was the first word he saw and the one word that kept him from picking up the bow. But it didn't matter anymore. He didn't care.
"Hello".
Maxim said it. He pretended he was friendly. Just like high school. Pretend. Pretend your eyes haven't blinked for minutes. Pretend you're not thinking. Pretend your arm is exhausted. Pretend your arm isn't itching.
Pretend everything is okay.
"Are you okay?"
She was okay. Maxim knew she was okay.
The girl was okay.
His middle finger twitched. The bow was placed to the ground. The arrow rested on top.
She was keeping her distance. He must have looked dangerous. He wasn't. Supposed to, at least. Or maybe he was. He didn't know. He wanted to look it. He wanted to be it. He wanted to live it.
Cocksucker. It was the bow. Its topmost word. Cocksucker. Cocksucker. It was the first word he saw and the one word that kept him from picking up the bow. But it didn't matter anymore. He didn't care.
"Hello".
Maxim said it. He pretended he was friendly. Just like high school. Pretend. Pretend your eyes haven't blinked for minutes. Pretend you're not thinking. Pretend your arm is exhausted. Pretend your arm isn't itching.
Pretend everything is okay.
"Are you okay?"
She was okay. Maxim knew she was okay.
The girl was okay.
His middle finger twitched. The bow was placed to the ground. The arrow rested on top.
"Yeah, I'm good..."
Was this guy, though?
There was definitely something off about him, sort of like how Nancy was when she'd first met her, way back on the first day. Not panicky scared, but definitely off, and definitely armed.
She stood where she was, gripping the strap of her daypack as she eyed up Maxim. Some smouldered pages crunched under her foot as she shifted her weight, interrupting the tense silence. Something in the back of her head was voting against getting too chummy with Maxim.
Better to get right to the point, then.
"You seen Alessio anywhere? Alessio Rigano?"
Was this guy, though?
There was definitely something off about him, sort of like how Nancy was when she'd first met her, way back on the first day. Not panicky scared, but definitely off, and definitely armed.
She stood where she was, gripping the strap of her daypack as she eyed up Maxim. Some smouldered pages crunched under her foot as she shifted her weight, interrupting the tense silence. Something in the back of her head was voting against getting too chummy with Maxim.
Better to get right to the point, then.
"You seen Alessio anywhere? Alessio Rigano?"
"I have not."
Maxim knew Alessio had killed. Alessio, his once friend. He'd actually listened to the announcements this morning. He'd suffocated a girl with a plastic bag.
"I was friends with him once."
His face didn't move. At first. It changed slightly when he thought to Alessio. Sadness. A worthy chess partner. They sparred. Maxim usually came out on top. At least that's how the story went. Alessio might have told it a different way. It didn't matter much now.
He looked at the girl. He still didn't know her name.
"Are you looking to kill him?"
He knew the answer was probably going to be 'yes'. Maxim just wanted her to pick up whatever minute conversation was going on here. Keep her talking. The more she talked, the less he had to.
And every so often, he glanced back towards the bow.
Maxim knew Alessio had killed. Alessio, his once friend. He'd actually listened to the announcements this morning. He'd suffocated a girl with a plastic bag.
"I was friends with him once."
His face didn't move. At first. It changed slightly when he thought to Alessio. Sadness. A worthy chess partner. They sparred. Maxim usually came out on top. At least that's how the story went. Alessio might have told it a different way. It didn't matter much now.
He looked at the girl. He still didn't know her name.
"Are you looking to kill him?"
He knew the answer was probably going to be 'yes'. Maxim just wanted her to pick up whatever minute conversation was going on here. Keep her talking. The more she talked, the less he had to.
And every so often, he glanced back towards the bow.
Vanessa's face lit up.
Finally, someone knew Alessio! Someone fumbling with a weapon who was creepy as hell, but still!
His own question did make it just a bit awkward, though. Her face fell again, but not completely. It was a strange expression, caught between excitement and uncertainty.
"I just want to talk to him." She finally responded. It wasn't a lie, and for all she knew it might've been the whole truth. It wasn't what she wanted, what she wanted was to let Cams rest in peace, but doubts about her intent had been gnawing away at her since talking to Kimiko. What a bitch.
She folded her arms in a defensive manner, trying to steel herself and her resolve. "He did kill my best friend, so, you know."
Saying it hadn't helped as much as she'd hoped.
"Can you just, like, give me some directions, if you know where he is? Or just, something to help me pick him out? Distinctive features, that kind of shit."
Finally, someone knew Alessio! Someone fumbling with a weapon who was creepy as hell, but still!
His own question did make it just a bit awkward, though. Her face fell again, but not completely. It was a strange expression, caught between excitement and uncertainty.
"I just want to talk to him." She finally responded. It wasn't a lie, and for all she knew it might've been the whole truth. It wasn't what she wanted, what she wanted was to let Cams rest in peace, but doubts about her intent had been gnawing away at her since talking to Kimiko. What a bitch.
She folded her arms in a defensive manner, trying to steel herself and her resolve. "He did kill my best friend, so, you know."
Saying it hadn't helped as much as she'd hoped.
"Can you just, like, give me some directions, if you know where he is? Or just, something to help me pick him out? Distinctive features, that kind of shit."
Talking. It seemed all everyone wanted to do. It wasn't like there was much else to do. Besides the obvious alternative.
He really didn't care about what this girl had to say. Or even what she wanted to say to Alessio. But if she kept talking, opportunities presented themselves.
Of course, something else presented itself. Suddenly, Maxim was on a stage. He had a line. A good one in mind.
"Well..." Maxim started, before raising his hand and pointing behind the girl, "why don't you just ask him yourself?"
He really didn't care about what this girl had to say. Or even what she wanted to say to Alessio. But if she kept talking, opportunities presented themselves.
Of course, something else presented itself. Suddenly, Maxim was on a stage. He had a line. A good one in mind.
"Well..." Maxim started, before raising his hand and pointing behind the girl, "why don't you just ask him yourself?"
As the girl turned around, Maxim leaned forward, stood up, took the bow to his chest, pulled the string back past his head, and released.
Vanessa turned back when she saw that there was no-one there, a sense of dread filing her as she realised she'd fallen for a ruse, but it was far too late.
The arrow caught her in her shoulder, boring deep into the flesh and sending her crashing to the floor. There was that sickly moment where she was just staring at Maxim, bow still in his hands, wandering what the hell had just happened. It didn't last long enough.
She didn't scream, she just stared at him, mouth agape, eyes pulled back in panic. A horrible burning feeling was searing through her shoulder, but that had been shoved aside by the presence in front of her. As that sickly moment passed, thoughts raced in.
Run. Get out of there. Get away from him.
She tried to do just that, scrambling around on her one good arm and stumbling up to her feet. Barely a second later she was falling back down again, as her foot caught in the mangled debris spread about the remains of the room. She went down hard, getting tangled between her limbs, the arrow sticking out, and the heavy daypack weighing down on her. She tried to recover, get back up and keep running, but she wasn't moving fast enough.
She could hear his footsteps approaching.
The arrow caught her in her shoulder, boring deep into the flesh and sending her crashing to the floor. There was that sickly moment where she was just staring at Maxim, bow still in his hands, wandering what the hell had just happened. It didn't last long enough.
She didn't scream, she just stared at him, mouth agape, eyes pulled back in panic. A horrible burning feeling was searing through her shoulder, but that had been shoved aside by the presence in front of her. As that sickly moment passed, thoughts raced in.
Run. Get out of there. Get away from him.
She tried to do just that, scrambling around on her one good arm and stumbling up to her feet. Barely a second later she was falling back down again, as her foot caught in the mangled debris spread about the remains of the room. She went down hard, getting tangled between her limbs, the arrow sticking out, and the heavy daypack weighing down on her. She tried to recover, get back up and keep running, but she wasn't moving fast enough.
She could hear his footsteps approaching.
Maxim had made the decision he was going to fight his way off the island on the morning of Day 8.
It was during a differing state of mind, something he experienced once he realized once again how alone he was. He had been alone before, of course, but that was when this whole thing had started. And naturally, he'd found people once again. And even more naturally, he'd lost them, when Brendan ran after the one who tried to shoot them. Brendan, who had chosen to run rather than face the truth Maxim had been working up to explaining, the truth he'd accepted days beforehand when Junko was shot by another now dead boy, when he'd said his goodbyes to his dad and to his doctor and to the boy who ruined his life who once loved him. There was just no point in putting up that facade anymore.
And what was the facade for in the first place? That he had time and patience for a grade of people who had nothing of the sort for him. That he would be able to walk out of this thing grasping onto the little remainder of friends that he had, a remainder that was barebones enough as it was before this whole thing began. It wasn't a case of everyone dying trying to find the reason this whole thing had to happen in the first place. It was a case of Them, vs. a case of Maxim, and Maxim deserved it more than them. He had gone through hell at that school no matter how nice he was. He was ostracized not only for his interests but for his sexuality as well. He'd done nothing wrong. Ever. Yet bad things still happened to him, because that was how the world worked. People pretended to be friends with him until it was just plain inconvenient. The world had it out for him.
Of course, he had to believe that, no matter how untrue it was. It was better than accepting responsibility for his own actions, for his forcing himself on his friend, for treating people like pieces on a chess board that was moving too fast around him, and for just being a flat-out asshole. If he did that, he'd have to face the truth, that he was responsible for most of anything he faced and he couldn't just blame a cruel world who had it out for him.
But if he'd done that, then he probably wouldn't have taken up his bow and shot an arrow into the shoulder of Vanessa Stone.
He wouldn't have made the decision to play his way off the island, and he might have gotten some true self-reflection in.
Instead, here he was.
Maxim wasn't sure where the arrow was meant to hit, but either way it knocked Vanessa down in a single strike. For a moment, he'd thought maybe she'd been killed, ludicrous as that might have been, but in the following few she started scrambling away. If she'd gathered momentum Maxim might have been worried, but it was nothing but a weak pathetic crawl. Of course, that still meant he needed to act fast before she found help, and that would put his own game in peril.
The bag was filled to the brim with food, water, and arrows. But Maxim didn't know how long it would take to fumble another one in, given it took so long the first time. If only she was still, and not still able to move away. He needed time for that that he didn't have.
As he took the bow down, he felt a weight of metal and wood move along his side. Oh. Of course. Why not? It would be messy, and it was a step up from what Maxim originally wanted to do in terms of how he played this, but just like his doctor once said, unfamiliar situations were how he would learn to grow.
Placing the bow on the ground, Maxim pulled the hammer from his waistline into his hands and started walking towards the prone Vanessa.
It was during a differing state of mind, something he experienced once he realized once again how alone he was. He had been alone before, of course, but that was when this whole thing had started. And naturally, he'd found people once again. And even more naturally, he'd lost them, when Brendan ran after the one who tried to shoot them. Brendan, who had chosen to run rather than face the truth Maxim had been working up to explaining, the truth he'd accepted days beforehand when Junko was shot by another now dead boy, when he'd said his goodbyes to his dad and to his doctor and to the boy who ruined his life who once loved him. There was just no point in putting up that facade anymore.
And what was the facade for in the first place? That he had time and patience for a grade of people who had nothing of the sort for him. That he would be able to walk out of this thing grasping onto the little remainder of friends that he had, a remainder that was barebones enough as it was before this whole thing began. It wasn't a case of everyone dying trying to find the reason this whole thing had to happen in the first place. It was a case of Them, vs. a case of Maxim, and Maxim deserved it more than them. He had gone through hell at that school no matter how nice he was. He was ostracized not only for his interests but for his sexuality as well. He'd done nothing wrong. Ever. Yet bad things still happened to him, because that was how the world worked. People pretended to be friends with him until it was just plain inconvenient. The world had it out for him.
Of course, he had to believe that, no matter how untrue it was. It was better than accepting responsibility for his own actions, for his forcing himself on his friend, for treating people like pieces on a chess board that was moving too fast around him, and for just being a flat-out asshole. If he did that, he'd have to face the truth, that he was responsible for most of anything he faced and he couldn't just blame a cruel world who had it out for him.
But if he'd done that, then he probably wouldn't have taken up his bow and shot an arrow into the shoulder of Vanessa Stone.
He wouldn't have made the decision to play his way off the island, and he might have gotten some true self-reflection in.
Instead, here he was.
Maxim wasn't sure where the arrow was meant to hit, but either way it knocked Vanessa down in a single strike. For a moment, he'd thought maybe she'd been killed, ludicrous as that might have been, but in the following few she started scrambling away. If she'd gathered momentum Maxim might have been worried, but it was nothing but a weak pathetic crawl. Of course, that still meant he needed to act fast before she found help, and that would put his own game in peril.
The bag was filled to the brim with food, water, and arrows. But Maxim didn't know how long it would take to fumble another one in, given it took so long the first time. If only she was still, and not still able to move away. He needed time for that that he didn't have.
As he took the bow down, he felt a weight of metal and wood move along his side. Oh. Of course. Why not? It would be messy, and it was a step up from what Maxim originally wanted to do in terms of how he played this, but just like his doctor once said, unfamiliar situations were how he would learn to grow.
Placing the bow on the ground, Maxim pulled the hammer from his waistline into his hands and started walking towards the prone Vanessa.
He was too close, she wasn't far enough. She ground her teeth against each other as she realised that she was royally fucked.
Running wasn't an option, and there was no way she could get her leg out of her bag in time, not with her arm like this and him right there. She flipped onto her back, pushing herself with her good arm and trying her hardest not to yell out from the pain in the bad one. The best she could stop at was a harsh grunt, as the blood spread out from her shoulder.
She looked up at Maxim, staring him in the face. She didn't dare look scared, channelled all her adrenaline into righteous anger. Her blazing stare could've pierced a bulkhead, even as the sweat ran down her face.
"Fuckin' bastard!" she yelled, maintaining her eye contact as she grasped with her functioning hand for anything that could help. She saw the hammer he was holding in his hand, knew what it was for. Kept focusing on looking furious, rather than terrified.
She couldn't grasp anything. She couldn't find her balance to get up and run. She couldn't do anything that would give her the upper hand.
So she did the only thing she could think of, and spat right in his face.
Running wasn't an option, and there was no way she could get her leg out of her bag in time, not with her arm like this and him right there. She flipped onto her back, pushing herself with her good arm and trying her hardest not to yell out from the pain in the bad one. The best she could stop at was a harsh grunt, as the blood spread out from her shoulder.
She looked up at Maxim, staring him in the face. She didn't dare look scared, channelled all her adrenaline into righteous anger. Her blazing stare could've pierced a bulkhead, even as the sweat ran down her face.
"Fuckin' bastard!" she yelled, maintaining her eye contact as she grasped with her functioning hand for anything that could help. She saw the hammer he was holding in his hand, knew what it was for. Kept focusing on looking furious, rather than terrified.
She couldn't grasp anything. She couldn't find her balance to get up and run. She couldn't do anything that would give her the upper hand.
So she did the only thing she could think of, and spat right in his face.
When the spittle hit Maxim's cheek, an unfamiliar sensation came back. It wasn't something he expected, or something he wanted, or something he was even very familiar with. It felt like a knot was forming in his stomach, as he stared down at the girl with nothing but hate in her eyes.
If he was a few days younger, Maxim would have recognized it as the same feeling he felt when he kissed his best friend, humiliated himself, and destroyed his only true friendship all in the span of a single action. He would have realized that it would only get worse. And worse. And his stomach would twist itself so tight he would never recover from the pain, as it would burst open and consume every negative emotion and feeling set out in front of him.
But the only thing in front of him was his endgoal. Getting off the island. And in a literal sense, the girl with the piercing gaze.
In one swift motion, Maxim stepped his foot onto the girl's chest, gripped the hammer with both hands, and plummeted to earth.
If he was a few days younger, Maxim would have recognized it as the same feeling he felt when he kissed his best friend, humiliated himself, and destroyed his only true friendship all in the span of a single action. He would have realized that it would only get worse. And worse. And his stomach would twist itself so tight he would never recover from the pain, as it would burst open and consume every negative emotion and feeling set out in front of him.
But the only thing in front of him was his endgoal. Getting off the island. And in a literal sense, the girl with the piercing gaze.
In one swift motion, Maxim stepped his foot onto the girl's chest, gripped the hammer with both hands, and plummeted to earth.
He was still coming, she hadn't stopped him. She hadn't thought it would stop him, but it should have stopped him. This wasn't supposed to be happening. It was happening too fast, too suddenly, and it wasn't supposed to be happening.
She tried to push herself back again, still trying to get away, but he was already on top of her. She winced under his foot on her chest, trying to twist him away, to free herself, but he was too heavy. The sun was hanging behind his face, blinding her when she tried to stare up at him. She tried to bring her bad arm up to shield herself, only to fail at that too.
Through gritted teeth, she started to whimper in the brief moment she had left. She wanted to beg, to plead. Anything to get away.
But she wasn't going to go out like that.
"EAT SHIT AND DIE!"
It was the last thing she screamed, as the hammer crashed down on her skull and caved it in.
She tried to push herself back again, still trying to get away, but he was already on top of her. She winced under his foot on her chest, trying to twist him away, to free herself, but he was too heavy. The sun was hanging behind his face, blinding her when she tried to stare up at him. She tried to bring her bad arm up to shield herself, only to fail at that too.
Through gritted teeth, she started to whimper in the brief moment she had left. She wanted to beg, to plead. Anything to get away.
But she wasn't going to go out like that.
"EAT SHIT AND DIE!"
It was the last thing she screamed, as the hammer crashed down on her skull and caved it in.
G050: VANESSA STONE – DECEASED
41 STUDENTS REMAINING
41 STUDENTS REMAINING
Vanessa didn't go down in one blow. No, she was still moving after the first strike, so Maxim went again. She stopped moving after that. But Maxim didn't know, so instead of stopping, he kept hitting. Eventually, the cracking sound became a soft mush, as Vanessa's head and face turned to nothing.
This was how it was going to have to be. He didn't want to do this but it was the reality. Maybe if he really was some sort of psychopath he could find some sort of enjoyment out of it, but as it was, Maxim just felt ill. That tightening experience in his stomach continued, it did not loosen like it should have. He wanted to feel better, he wanted this girl's death to have some sort of good outcome, maybe like his own escape from the island and the escape of his constant well of negative feelings. But the goodness never came, he only felt worse.
Maxim stood up. The hammer dripped. Without betraying an emotion, he walked back to his bag and dropped the hammer. He hoped he would not have to deal with that thing for a while, especially considering he had no intention of wasting his own precious water washing the blood and gunk off. Instead, he picked up his other weapon, the bow with which he crippled the girl, and slung it around his shoulder. Maxim took an arrow from the bag, and held it in his fingers. If he was going to leave the island, he needed to get good with this.
Turning around, he returned to the now dead girl whose name was once Vanessa. He rifled through her belongings, both on her person and not. Nothing exceptional was on her, except another set of food for his own collection, a splintered leg with several protruding nails, and personal possessions which meant nothing to Maxim.
He turned around once again to retrieve his bag, only to stop in his tracks.
He was there, standing right by his bag.
If this were a situation with more normalcy involved, Maxim might have asked any number of things. Like how did he get there? What was he doing? Instead, this was a situation with much risk involved, especially to himself, so instead:
"What do you want?"
This was how it was going to have to be. He didn't want to do this but it was the reality. Maybe if he really was some sort of psychopath he could find some sort of enjoyment out of it, but as it was, Maxim just felt ill. That tightening experience in his stomach continued, it did not loosen like it should have. He wanted to feel better, he wanted this girl's death to have some sort of good outcome, maybe like his own escape from the island and the escape of his constant well of negative feelings. But the goodness never came, he only felt worse.
Maxim stood up. The hammer dripped. Without betraying an emotion, he walked back to his bag and dropped the hammer. He hoped he would not have to deal with that thing for a while, especially considering he had no intention of wasting his own precious water washing the blood and gunk off. Instead, he picked up his other weapon, the bow with which he crippled the girl, and slung it around his shoulder. Maxim took an arrow from the bag, and held it in his fingers. If he was going to leave the island, he needed to get good with this.
Turning around, he returned to the now dead girl whose name was once Vanessa. He rifled through her belongings, both on her person and not. Nothing exceptional was on her, except another set of food for his own collection, a splintered leg with several protruding nails, and personal possessions which meant nothing to Maxim.
He turned around once again to retrieve his bag, only to stop in his tracks.
He was there, standing right by his bag.
If this were a situation with more normalcy involved, Maxim might have asked any number of things. Like how did he get there? What was he doing? Instead, this was a situation with much risk involved, especially to himself, so instead:
"What do you want?"