((Continued From Forever Falling Part Two))
Garry had continued running from the boy with the gun until he had reached the cliffs off of the expressway. He attempted to climb over the concrete barrier, but collapsed over it, and coughed up a large chunk of blood-encrusted phelgm. "Disgusting..." Garry crawled over the barrier, falling over to the ground. He lay there for quite some time, hoping that the crazed boy following him would not see him.
What is the point? I've lost enough blood already...Might as well let him kill me... No! I've still got a chance, I've just got to take care of this wound, take care of this guy, and i'll be home free! What am I saying? Even if I do manage to kill him, I've still got the rest of the lsland to take care of. And in my state i'll never be able to win. Just give up, Garry...Give up... He contemplated ending his life, but it appeared it was already ending. Blood began to gush out of his wound, and he could feel his body numbing. He crawled towards the cliff, peering down. It was quite a long way. Painless, perhaps? Angle of impact, velocity. Blood loss...
Garry summoned all of his strength, and stood up, facing the direction the other boy would be coming from. He would stare in the face of death, and laugh. Nobody would ever kill Garry Dodd.
Anticlimax
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AtomicWaffle†
- Posts: 230
- Joined: Sun Jan 27, 2019 6:55 am
Anticlimax
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler AtomicWaffle.
((Continued from Forever Falling, Part 2))
Nobody, it seemed, except Damien Carter-Madison, who didn't even have the time to write the giant into his special list. The jog to this place was more tiring than usual, but that was expected given the wound in his right arm, which resulted in a rather sizeable red spot covering most of his shoulder and upper arm. Said wound also resulted in him pursuing Garry Dodd with a maniacal smile on his androgynous face.
The chase - and the trail of blood that Garry had left behind - led him to a rather conveniently placed cliff, with the giant cornered by the edge.
"Well...what a surprise...looks like David still wins every time..." Damien replied.
He wasn't going to add any more words to this occasion. He'd watched Van Helsing enough to know that if you want to kill someone, you'd better just kill them and not stand there talking about it. The Colt Anaconda in his hand was quivering for another climax, and that was what Damien was hellbent on giving the man who had harmed him. The only thing slowing him down was the gun's weight, which he tried to overcome as he raised the gun toward the giant. This time, the giant could not escape, and unless Damien suddenly lost his arm he was practically guaranteed a hit.
Damien never really realized the gun was double-action, though he didn't remember to cock it as he pulled the trigger. There was a massive flourish of sound that caused Damien to wince and recoil rather powerfully, but that was merely the support for the Magnum bullet that raced out toward its target.
Nobody, it seemed, except Damien Carter-Madison, who didn't even have the time to write the giant into his special list. The jog to this place was more tiring than usual, but that was expected given the wound in his right arm, which resulted in a rather sizeable red spot covering most of his shoulder and upper arm. Said wound also resulted in him pursuing Garry Dodd with a maniacal smile on his androgynous face.
The chase - and the trail of blood that Garry had left behind - led him to a rather conveniently placed cliff, with the giant cornered by the edge.
"Well...what a surprise...looks like David still wins every time..." Damien replied.
He wasn't going to add any more words to this occasion. He'd watched Van Helsing enough to know that if you want to kill someone, you'd better just kill them and not stand there talking about it. The Colt Anaconda in his hand was quivering for another climax, and that was what Damien was hellbent on giving the man who had harmed him. The only thing slowing him down was the gun's weight, which he tried to overcome as he raised the gun toward the giant. This time, the giant could not escape, and unless Damien suddenly lost his arm he was practically guaranteed a hit.
Damien never really realized the gun was double-action, though he didn't remember to cock it as he pulled the trigger. There was a massive flourish of sound that caused Damien to wince and recoil rather powerfully, but that was merely the support for the Magnum bullet that raced out toward its target.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler laZardo. 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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AtomicWaffle†
- Posts: 230
- Joined: Sun Jan 27, 2019 6:55 am
Garry felt the second bullet lance towards him, almost as if time had slowed down, just for him. Again, he was knocked down, blood now pouring from a second gash in his chest. "Bullshit!" Garry got up, blood still pouring from the multiple wounds in his chest. His vision was cloudy, his mind was no better. His entire body was now stained a deathly sanguine. He felt another bullet pierce through his gut, unforgivingly punching out his kidney. Garry vomited out blood. His skin had now attained a corpse-like paleness. "No...You won't kill me...I'm unbreakable...Untouchable..." Garry rambled on, his bloodshot eyes piercing into Damien's soul. "I will survive you... There is nothing I can't..." He doubled over into a fit of coughing, his throat parched and torn. Damien took aim, and planted another bullet directly into his shoulder. Garry held back his screams, as bone chips flew into his neck. His jugular vein began to release what was left of Garry Dodd. He collapsed on the ground, lifeless.
Nobody will kill Garry Dodd.
For the fourth time, Garry grunted, and got up. Ignorant of his current condition, Garry spat at Damien's feet. The other boy already showed a look of bewilderment. How much would it take to bring this giant down? "What did I say? You can't kill me..." Garry taunted amidst the bile forming in his mouth. "I've survived worse. You think bullets, of all things, will take me down?" The sides of his knees began to buckle, and he stumbled backwards. "You've got some fucking nerve...Shooting me like that...Hahaha! Why don't you just throw yourself off the cliff already?" Garry made a pathetic lunge towards Damien, but collapsed onto the concrete barrier. Blood began to drip down it's sides. Garry pushed himself off of the barrier. " You... are...Weak!" No sooner had Garry made that stifilingly hypocritical comment that Damien shot him, for the last time, in his knee, hoping to throw him off balance and knock him off of the cliff. The shattered pieces of it were flung off of the cliff and into the abyss below.
The ground shook beneath him; In an instant, Garry stopped bleeding. He looked behind him, already teetering on the brink of death. His long black hair was draped in front of his eyes, encrusted in
old blood, giving it a sickly maroon colour. It was over for him. There was nothing left on this island worth living for. I might as well leave it then... Garry smirked at Damien. "See you in Hell!"
As Garry fell off of the cliff, all of his problems seemed to float into the clouds. Death tended to do that. It has been said that life flashes before one's eyes before they die. As was the case with Garry. He could see his childhood unfold before him; playing outside in the snow with Adam, up at their Grandparents' cottage. He saw his father putting a bandage on a scrape that Garry obtained from falling off of his bike. School...The constant fighting, his father walking into the school, screaming at the poor Child Youth Worker... High school pushed it's way into his mind... The stares, as he walked through the school, constantly having to be careful not to hit his head on the doorway...Moving to the United States, and receiving worse treatment there...
He could see himself, then, at the bank. The man shot him three times, in the head, lung, and leg. Garry's father was sobbing as he saw his son being carried into an ambulance... The constant pestering from lawyers, journalists, and all manner of doctors... Hearing the news that he would have to walk for the rest of his life with a cane, adding a cripple to his already-disfigured face and unnatural stature. Beating on Paris Persephone in the stairwell, starting the horrible rivalry that would indirectly lead them both to their deaths. Finally, Garry's mind flashed to the plane. Staring at from Paris Persephone, he invisioned how one day, he would make the little "Stairwell Incident" seem like a walk in the park; Paris did the same. Then, the teachers were mercilessly executed. He still had the image of Mrs. Saranna being molested burned into his mind, even to his death.
Suddenly, these all-too-vivid memories ceased, as a large, sharp rock ripped through his chest. He clutched at the rock. It was a queer sensation, of nearly being split in half by a piece of the Earth itself. What blood he had left pooled into his lungs, and he drowned in it. He could see that boy with the Colt Anaconda standing over the cliff, a look of sheer shock in his face as he saw Garry twitch and seemingly still be alive, despite all of his would-be-fatal injuries. Garry raised his left hand towards him, almost as if to place a curse on Damien, before he finally fell limp.
Endlessly falling into the anticlimax of his life, this was the end. Garry Dodd was dead.
B77 - Garry DODD - DEAD
Imagine there's no Heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today
Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace
You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one
Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world
You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one
Only a life lived for others is a life worthwhile. What a waste.
Nobody will kill Garry Dodd.
For the fourth time, Garry grunted, and got up. Ignorant of his current condition, Garry spat at Damien's feet. The other boy already showed a look of bewilderment. How much would it take to bring this giant down? "What did I say? You can't kill me..." Garry taunted amidst the bile forming in his mouth. "I've survived worse. You think bullets, of all things, will take me down?" The sides of his knees began to buckle, and he stumbled backwards. "You've got some fucking nerve...Shooting me like that...Hahaha! Why don't you just throw yourself off the cliff already?" Garry made a pathetic lunge towards Damien, but collapsed onto the concrete barrier. Blood began to drip down it's sides. Garry pushed himself off of the barrier. " You... are...Weak!" No sooner had Garry made that stifilingly hypocritical comment that Damien shot him, for the last time, in his knee, hoping to throw him off balance and knock him off of the cliff. The shattered pieces of it were flung off of the cliff and into the abyss below.
The ground shook beneath him; In an instant, Garry stopped bleeding. He looked behind him, already teetering on the brink of death. His long black hair was draped in front of his eyes, encrusted in
old blood, giving it a sickly maroon colour. It was over for him. There was nothing left on this island worth living for. I might as well leave it then... Garry smirked at Damien. "See you in Hell!"
As Garry fell off of the cliff, all of his problems seemed to float into the clouds. Death tended to do that. It has been said that life flashes before one's eyes before they die. As was the case with Garry. He could see his childhood unfold before him; playing outside in the snow with Adam, up at their Grandparents' cottage. He saw his father putting a bandage on a scrape that Garry obtained from falling off of his bike. School...The constant fighting, his father walking into the school, screaming at the poor Child Youth Worker... High school pushed it's way into his mind... The stares, as he walked through the school, constantly having to be careful not to hit his head on the doorway...Moving to the United States, and receiving worse treatment there...
He could see himself, then, at the bank. The man shot him three times, in the head, lung, and leg. Garry's father was sobbing as he saw his son being carried into an ambulance... The constant pestering from lawyers, journalists, and all manner of doctors... Hearing the news that he would have to walk for the rest of his life with a cane, adding a cripple to his already-disfigured face and unnatural stature. Beating on Paris Persephone in the stairwell, starting the horrible rivalry that would indirectly lead them both to their deaths. Finally, Garry's mind flashed to the plane. Staring at from Paris Persephone, he invisioned how one day, he would make the little "Stairwell Incident" seem like a walk in the park; Paris did the same. Then, the teachers were mercilessly executed. He still had the image of Mrs. Saranna being molested burned into his mind, even to his death.
Suddenly, these all-too-vivid memories ceased, as a large, sharp rock ripped through his chest. He clutched at the rock. It was a queer sensation, of nearly being split in half by a piece of the Earth itself. What blood he had left pooled into his lungs, and he drowned in it. He could see that boy with the Colt Anaconda standing over the cliff, a look of sheer shock in his face as he saw Garry twitch and seemingly still be alive, despite all of his would-be-fatal injuries. Garry raised his left hand towards him, almost as if to place a curse on Damien, before he finally fell limp.
Endlessly falling into the anticlimax of his life, this was the end. Garry Dodd was dead.
B77 - Garry DODD - DEAD
Imagine there's no Heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today
Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace
You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one
Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world
You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one
Only a life lived for others is a life worthwhile. What a waste.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler AtomicWaffle.
Damien initially enjoyed shooting the giant. Watching each bullet hit its mark dead on and do its damage pleased him and easily compensated for the injury that the giant had inflicted upon him. But with every shot that hit, Goliath grew more defiant at David. Each insult closed the lips over his grin and curled his face into a frown. Each insolent statement launched at him reminded him of every foul word tossed at him by people on his list...and that was Gilroy alone.
Clearly this was unlike the Bible stories that Nicole had read to him as a child for (hollow) inspiration.
Especially the word "weak," which hit Damien especially hard echoed of Kristey Burrowell's defiant dying words. Given the verbal barrage it was no consolation to Damien that he had killed her in very cold blood in return. Suddenly the bullets were like the futile blows he tried to strike at them but couldn't...but that effect wore off as soon as Garry fell off the cliff. Damien didn't see or know what the giant was thinking before he was impaled on the rocks below. All he noticed in his shock and frustration was the giant raising his left hand to point at him as if to curse him before finally giving up the ghost.
And when you've taken down your guard...
Damien didn't believe in curses...but he was cursing himself for not having shot Garry in the head or neck when he had the chance and just finished it off altogether. Especially when - despite his wounded arm - he had much more strength than Garry that the giant was such an easy target. Now, Garry was dead and Damien had only one bullet left in the chamber, a large knife somewhat holstered in his cargo jeans pocket and a baseball bat as backup and a shield if it really came down to it. And that wasn't counting all the bullets that were still safe and secure in his cargo jeans pockets.
If I could change your mind...
Which would be fine had he not started fearing he had used four bullets too many, especially when he still had quite a few other names on his list...including Kristey's fat fianceé, Franco Sebberts and of course, Reneé Valenti.
I'd really love to break your heart...
Danya's announcement for Day 7 had started to play...and had Damien not been in the rattled state he was in right now, he would have actually walked away from the scene with a smile on his face, sliding his hips to the beat of Queen. But the only thing echoing in Damien's mind was not some old rock-disco beat but the words with which Garry had stabbed him before he fell. These echoes kept playing...and playing...for moments after the announcement ended...until...
I'd really love to break your heart...
"I'm...not...WEEEEEEEEEEAK!" he cried out, that last word so shrill that even Damien could not bear listening to it for more than a few seconds, before dropping to his hands and knees and sobbing...and shouting it all out again.
Shout, shout, Let it all out,
These are the things I can do without,
Come on, I'm talking to you, come on
Damien damn well knew that Nicole was listening to this, though she wasn't because her despair had driven her to sleep. He hoped Reneé would have heard it, and she was, albeit from her apartment and not somewhere on the island. Them and the parents of all those Gilroyals who had picked on him and let them pick on him. He even hoped to his special "friend" that his message would be carried to those who had heard him. In the span of the next 20 minutes, he would compose himself enough to sit down, wrap some bandages tight around the gash in his jacket, reload his gun and finally, leave grumbling and shivering because the sun hadn't fully warmed this part of the world yet.
But as he left he never bothered to think that there was one person who especially heard him, though it would have taken Damien a lot of time digging back in his memories to even find a vague recollection of the only person that he could have called a friend. Somewhere on the West Coast of the United States, a bitter, cynical high school senior of Panamanian descent watched Damien cry out on his TV, and it was that cry that caused him to move toward it and put a hand on the screen and softly utter "Damien" with just a hint of compassion in his voice.
Especially when the words in Damien's banshee wail were softly whimpered to Eduardo Villa-Trinidad years back, when he saw Damien for the last time..
Shout, shout, Let it all out,
These are the things I can do without,
Come on, I'm talking to you, come on
((Damien Continued Elsewhere))
Clearly this was unlike the Bible stories that Nicole had read to him as a child for (hollow) inspiration.
Especially the word "weak," which hit Damien especially hard echoed of Kristey Burrowell's defiant dying words. Given the verbal barrage it was no consolation to Damien that he had killed her in very cold blood in return. Suddenly the bullets were like the futile blows he tried to strike at them but couldn't...but that effect wore off as soon as Garry fell off the cliff. Damien didn't see or know what the giant was thinking before he was impaled on the rocks below. All he noticed in his shock and frustration was the giant raising his left hand to point at him as if to curse him before finally giving up the ghost.
And when you've taken down your guard...
Damien didn't believe in curses...but he was cursing himself for not having shot Garry in the head or neck when he had the chance and just finished it off altogether. Especially when - despite his wounded arm - he had much more strength than Garry that the giant was such an easy target. Now, Garry was dead and Damien had only one bullet left in the chamber, a large knife somewhat holstered in his cargo jeans pocket and a baseball bat as backup and a shield if it really came down to it. And that wasn't counting all the bullets that were still safe and secure in his cargo jeans pockets.
If I could change your mind...
Which would be fine had he not started fearing he had used four bullets too many, especially when he still had quite a few other names on his list...including Kristey's fat fianceé, Franco Sebberts and of course, Reneé Valenti.
I'd really love to break your heart...
Danya's announcement for Day 7 had started to play...and had Damien not been in the rattled state he was in right now, he would have actually walked away from the scene with a smile on his face, sliding his hips to the beat of Queen. But the only thing echoing in Damien's mind was not some old rock-disco beat but the words with which Garry had stabbed him before he fell. These echoes kept playing...and playing...for moments after the announcement ended...until...
I'd really love to break your heart...
"I'm...not...WEEEEEEEEEEAK!" he cried out, that last word so shrill that even Damien could not bear listening to it for more than a few seconds, before dropping to his hands and knees and sobbing...and shouting it all out again.
Shout, shout, Let it all out,
These are the things I can do without,
Come on, I'm talking to you, come on
Damien damn well knew that Nicole was listening to this, though she wasn't because her despair had driven her to sleep. He hoped Reneé would have heard it, and she was, albeit from her apartment and not somewhere on the island. Them and the parents of all those Gilroyals who had picked on him and let them pick on him. He even hoped to his special "friend" that his message would be carried to those who had heard him. In the span of the next 20 minutes, he would compose himself enough to sit down, wrap some bandages tight around the gash in his jacket, reload his gun and finally, leave grumbling and shivering because the sun hadn't fully warmed this part of the world yet.
But as he left he never bothered to think that there was one person who especially heard him, though it would have taken Damien a lot of time digging back in his memories to even find a vague recollection of the only person that he could have called a friend. Somewhere on the West Coast of the United States, a bitter, cynical high school senior of Panamanian descent watched Damien cry out on his TV, and it was that cry that caused him to move toward it and put a hand on the screen and softly utter "Damien" with just a hint of compassion in his voice.
Especially when the words in Damien's banshee wail were softly whimpered to Eduardo Villa-Trinidad years back, when he saw Damien for the last time..
Shout, shout, Let it all out,
These are the things I can do without,
Come on, I'm talking to you, come on
((Damien Continued Elsewhere))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler laZardo. 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.