In her Junior year, Emma had to do a group assignment in Social Studies about an event in recent history. It was pretty simple: make a poster about something that had happened anywhere between the past few years to now. Yet, it managed to be one of the most difficult group projects she'd ever done. It wasn't that she was exhausted. Exhaustion was always an issue with assignments, yeah, but that wasn't the problem. The issue wasn't the people she worked with, either. They were cool, hardworking people.
The problem was that the subject they had been randomly selected for was Survival of the Fittest. At first, Emma thought while it was not a pleasant topic, they could still finish it pretty easily. She was proven wrong once she actually did some research. It was probably the worst thing she ever had to look up. She read about other atrocities in class, sure. All kind of wars, pain, and suffering. But somehow, realizing that these were kids, just like her, was the worst part. Any one of them could have easily been like her classmates, or her friends. Even like her family. Emma had read somewhere that one time, somewhere over 250 students, plus their teachers, were abducted. What really put it into perspective was getting an idea of how many people that was. Cochise had assemblies from time to time, usually on Wednesday. As she waited for one to start a few days after the project was assigned she couldn't help but look at all the people around her.
250 or more people would mean a lot of missing seats. How many schools had an assembly after an abduction like that? How many empty chairs were conspicuously unoccupied over the years? How many people were taken away to die? She didn't want to find out the exact number who lived and died through such horror. Just the estimate of 250 for one incident was enough.
She couldn't imagine what it would be like, having to kill your friends. The clips themselves couldn't be viewed, too illegal. But there were a few survivor stories, like the National Geographic article with Kimberly Nguyen.
Emma was used to having nightmares. In fact, she'd had particularly vivid dreams her entire life. For a long time, everyone thought that it didn't mean much. She did have night terrors, too, but she only knew about that when someone told her about it in the morning. Of course, she found out during her diagnosis that vivid, surreal dreams were something to be expected. Add in the sleep paralysis, and it meant one thing: for the next few weeks, Emma's night time experiences were full of images of being murdered by someone she loved.
So when she first woke up inside an auditorium of some kind, with her and her classmates tied to a chair, she thought she was having another dream like that. She could vaguely remember it being hot out before they set off on their trip. Historically, Emma didn't do well in hot weather. It made things harder to stay awake. So maybe she fell asleep on the bus.
Her heart had raced as she realized where things were going. But she remembered a trick someone had told her if she had dreams like that. There was something called "lucid dreaming," where if you realized you were in a dream you could be able to change things in it. It sounded like something she'd experienced before in her dreams, but recently she'd tried doing it on purpose. It worked like a charm, and it made her sleep paralysis and odd dreams a bit more tolerable. Just a bit. Whenever she experienced it, it felt a bit like changing the channel to something you enjoy more.
Emma, in hindsight, knew it was a silly delusion. But in her panic, she swept into full denial and tried to change that channel. She imagined Mr. Graham turning into a giant coyote and ripping out of his chair to protect everyone. He'd be a big, friendly coyote who'd save everyone. A second later, she pictured herself getting super powers and stopping Greynolds before he approached the chair with Mr. Graham in it. A few more seconds, and she tried to will the military into showing up at the last minute before they could do anything to anyone.
Nothing budged. Greynolds still pulled out a gun, and he... he shot Mr. Graham. He shot their teacher. That's when Emma realized she wasn't dreaming. Her last bit of denial didn't last. She couldn't change a thing.
She wasn't sure what they gassed them with, but it hadn't felt good waking up. How long had she laid on her back, staring at the ceiling while slipping in and out of consciousness? It felt like hours. A few times she had attempted to at least sit up, only to fall back asleep again. She was making more progress waking up, though. At some point, she pulled herself up, her back against the wall. Her brain still hadn't caught up, so she only fell back asleep. Several times her head would snap back up, with her eyes wide, then her head would droop again. It took some time before she could keep her eyes open.
Her eyes still felt groggy, but she could focus more. Was this some kind of operating room? Did they put her into a hospital? Maybe.
Suddenly, everything clicked into place. Emma still remembered what happened, but now everything fully hit her. They killed Graham, and they were forcing them to cross a line that was reprehensible in every sense. Emma felt her shoulders tighten and shake, as nausea swept over her. It wasn't just the gas.
She wasn't sure what to do. Maybe it was the gas, maybe it was panic, maybe it was something else. Mom and Dad had given her an idea of what to do in cases like this, and yet, she was stuck. She knew one thing, though.
"I'm not killing," she said quietly, a tremor to her voice.
It was obvious. There were a ton of reasons why. It was a disgusting thing to do. People had families who'd miss them. She had a leadership position at the school, and she'd have to set an example. Students killing each other would reflect poorly on the school, too. And what would her family think? How would Mom and Dad feel, knowing that she'd hurt someone? What would Sabrina think, or her cousins-
Sabrina.
That snapped Emma further into alertness. She was definitely on the trip too. Maybe some of her cousins were there, as well. She didn't want anyone to die. Not her sister, not her cousins, not her friends. Not anyone. Emma felt tears run down her face.
But she tried to stay calm.
Emma's legs shifted a bit. She finally could move them a bit more, which was good. Still wasn't sure what it was they drugged them with. It felt like some kind of anesthetic, which it probably was. It wasn't a good idea to try to figure that out now, though. It wasn't that important, or at least she didn't think it was.
She turned her head to the left, and to the right. It ached to do so, but her suspicions were confirmed. Operating room. It looked run-down, though, like nothing had been in use for a long time. There were a lot of boxes and chairs strewn about, too, which was strange. She noticed something about one of the chairs, though. It had some kind of black object laying on top. Emma's eyes blinked behind her red frames for a beat, until she realized what it was. A bag? Hers?
Emma placed her hands and knees on the ground, and slowly crawled towards the chair. The strap hung off the chair, like some sort of vine. The nausea and drowsiness still followed her, making it more difficult to keep her balance even in this position. Small colorful shapes danced in the corner of her vision. But she kept going. Had to. Opening that bag would mean accepting what's happening, but at least there would be something useful.
Her hand touched the strap. Emma bit her lips a bit. They were a little dry. But she pulled the bag down. It slid off the chair and onto her right arm, making a loud thud. She cried out. It didn't hurt that much, but it was still enough of a jolt.
While she didn't realize it yet, someone could probably hear her from the other rooms.
You Could Have A Dream About Losing Your Friends
G022 start
[[Lucilly Peterson: START]]
Oh! She cried. She wept and she yowled and she mourned and she sobbed and she wailed and howled and it went on and it went on.
Her eyes were red and the cheeks on her face were red and run over with a countless number of tears shed over a countless amount of time. Snot formed in her nose and whenever she breathed out the snot bubbled up and ran down her face. Whenever she breathed in the snot wandered into her throat, so that her wailing was only to be disturbed by a coughing fit from some time to some time.
Lucilly touched herself. Clutched herself. Hang unto herself. Grabbing her knees and remaining frozen sitting on a table. A bag with an omnious number etched onto it sat right beside her, and though she did not dare to open it for opening meant to accept what was not to be acceptable, she knew it was hers. It was her. And it would be, until she...
She cried. And wailed. And cried some more, sobbing into her clothes and into her legs, eyes closed shut for if they were open they would see a puddle of gross fluids - expelled from Lucilly herself upon her awakening - sitting, laying menacingly right before her table.
A sound came from somewhere. A thud, something that happened happened somewhere else, and yet too close for Lucilly's liking. She raised her eyes. She observed the room and felt a contraction of her muscles around her stomach area once again.
But she listened, and though she stopped crying she felt a fear and a misery that has just become a ten times greater.
Oh! The pain in her stomach, it become just too much to bear. The pressure that build within her become just too much to bear. She leaned forward, tears and snot falling off her face into the ground and although she cried in pain, nothing came from within her stomach.
Oh! She cried. She wept and she yowled and she mourned and she sobbed and she wailed and howled and it went on and it went on.
Her eyes were red and the cheeks on her face were red and run over with a countless number of tears shed over a countless amount of time. Snot formed in her nose and whenever she breathed out the snot bubbled up and ran down her face. Whenever she breathed in the snot wandered into her throat, so that her wailing was only to be disturbed by a coughing fit from some time to some time.
Lucilly touched herself. Clutched herself. Hang unto herself. Grabbing her knees and remaining frozen sitting on a table. A bag with an omnious number etched onto it sat right beside her, and though she did not dare to open it for opening meant to accept what was not to be acceptable, she knew it was hers. It was her. And it would be, until she...
She cried. And wailed. And cried some more, sobbing into her clothes and into her legs, eyes closed shut for if they were open they would see a puddle of gross fluids - expelled from Lucilly herself upon her awakening - sitting, laying menacingly right before her table.
A sound came from somewhere. A thud, something that happened happened somewhere else, and yet too close for Lucilly's liking. She raised her eyes. She observed the room and felt a contraction of her muscles around her stomach area once again.
But she listened, and though she stopped crying she felt a fear and a misery that has just become a ten times greater.
Oh! The pain in her stomach, it become just too much to bear. The pressure that build within her become just too much to bear. She leaned forward, tears and snot falling off her face into the ground and although she cried in pain, nothing came from within her stomach.
Gervais Frans Lambotte 
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((Amanda Tan continued from Guns, Gerns, and Rust))
Was she being rash? Yes.
Was she being dumb? Yes.
Was she cold and wet and not trying to think to hard about what she was doing? Also yes.
The noise had startled her, sounding like a tower of the junk inside the laboratory had toppled behind her. Was that her doing? Or was there someone else in there, someone she had missed.
Either could have been the case, and she wanted to be sure.
But what was she supposed to do? Just barge back into the room?
"Hi! I'm here with a rifle and I'm totally friendly!" Yeah, that was going to work so well. But she was probably going to go back in anyway.
The space outside the laboratory had been scarcely better than the inside. It was air still felt like it had been left there for a million years to fester and the piles of objects within the corridor looked precarious but it had offered her one thing she needed, light.
She had searched through her bag earlier, looking for what looked the most useful. Torch. Food. First aid. Weapon Manual.
The booklets had been useful enough, easy enough to understand and brief enough for her to spend only a couple minutes on each of them. They had obviously wanted them to know how to use the guns. Rifles turned out to be more complex than she had expected, heavier as well, but with the manual it didn't take too long to get a rudimentary understanding of what she was supposed to do with a gun. Rudimentary probably wasn't going to help her if whoever inside was ready to be violent though.
But there was nothing to do but enter now, and she opened the door quietly, holding on to the rifle tightly in case something went wrong.
"Hello? Who's in there?" she asked quietly.
Was she being rash? Yes.
Was she being dumb? Yes.
Was she cold and wet and not trying to think to hard about what she was doing? Also yes.
The noise had startled her, sounding like a tower of the junk inside the laboratory had toppled behind her. Was that her doing? Or was there someone else in there, someone she had missed.
Either could have been the case, and she wanted to be sure.
But what was she supposed to do? Just barge back into the room?
"Hi! I'm here with a rifle and I'm totally friendly!" Yeah, that was going to work so well. But she was probably going to go back in anyway.
The space outside the laboratory had been scarcely better than the inside. It was air still felt like it had been left there for a million years to fester and the piles of objects within the corridor looked precarious but it had offered her one thing she needed, light.
She had searched through her bag earlier, looking for what looked the most useful. Torch. Food. First aid. Weapon Manual.
The booklets had been useful enough, easy enough to understand and brief enough for her to spend only a couple minutes on each of them. They had obviously wanted them to know how to use the guns. Rifles turned out to be more complex than she had expected, heavier as well, but with the manual it didn't take too long to get a rudimentary understanding of what she was supposed to do with a gun. Rudimentary probably wasn't going to help her if whoever inside was ready to be violent though.
But there was nothing to do but enter now, and she opened the door quietly, holding on to the rifle tightly in case something went wrong.
"Hello? Who's in there?" she asked quietly.
Somewhere in the room, there was a series of sobs.
Emma froze up, her eyes widening. Even though the gas was still clouding her mind, she could still figure out one thing: someone else was here. Sounded like a girl, too. It could mean many things. Maybe it was someone safe, maybe it wasn't.
She slid the bag off her hand, and slowly pulled herself into a kneel. It felt a bit like her brain was sloshing around in her skull. Emma looked around. She still had her glasses on, but even then it was somewhat more difficult to focus. It didn't help it was dark, either.
The sobbing only got louder, mixing well with Emma's heartbeat. Her mouth felt even more dry. She wasn't sure if she should say something. It could be someone dangerous. But who at the school would be dangerous? There was somewhat of a bad crowd at the school, but most schools did. She also didn't think most- if not all- would kill people, either. Their school was different, right? Cochise was a good school, full of good people. Hopefully that was still the case.
Before she could say anything, there was another sound. It was something like a door creaking open. Emma snapped her head towards the noise. Someone was saying something. Another girl? Yeah, another girl. Different girl.
Mom and Dad had taught her a lot. She'd been to self-defense lessons, and had gone camping with them. But, she realized, she still couldn't remember if they told her what to do in situations like this. So she did the only thing she could think of.
She raised her arms up with her palms flat.
"It... it's..."
Emma couldn't speak. Maybe she was still incoherent from the drugs, maybe she was just nervous. But the back of her throat tasted bitter.
"E-emma. It's... it's me. Emma-a."
Her voice came out quiet and slightly slurred.
Hopefully, if she could see her, she'd realize she was unarmed. Hopefully her, and the other girl, were safe people. Hopefully Emma made the right choice.
She tightly closed her eyes, waiting for what would happen next.
Emma froze up, her eyes widening. Even though the gas was still clouding her mind, she could still figure out one thing: someone else was here. Sounded like a girl, too. It could mean many things. Maybe it was someone safe, maybe it wasn't.
She slid the bag off her hand, and slowly pulled herself into a kneel. It felt a bit like her brain was sloshing around in her skull. Emma looked around. She still had her glasses on, but even then it was somewhat more difficult to focus. It didn't help it was dark, either.
The sobbing only got louder, mixing well with Emma's heartbeat. Her mouth felt even more dry. She wasn't sure if she should say something. It could be someone dangerous. But who at the school would be dangerous? There was somewhat of a bad crowd at the school, but most schools did. She also didn't think most- if not all- would kill people, either. Their school was different, right? Cochise was a good school, full of good people. Hopefully that was still the case.
Before she could say anything, there was another sound. It was something like a door creaking open. Emma snapped her head towards the noise. Someone was saying something. Another girl? Yeah, another girl. Different girl.
Mom and Dad had taught her a lot. She'd been to self-defense lessons, and had gone camping with them. But, she realized, she still couldn't remember if they told her what to do in situations like this. So she did the only thing she could think of.
She raised her arms up with her palms flat.
"It... it's..."
Emma couldn't speak. Maybe she was still incoherent from the drugs, maybe she was just nervous. But the back of her throat tasted bitter.
"E-emma. It's... it's me. Emma-a."
Her voice came out quiet and slightly slurred.
Hopefully, if she could see her, she'd realize she was unarmed. Hopefully her, and the other girl, were safe people. Hopefully Emma made the right choice.
She tightly closed her eyes, waiting for what would happen next.
Her gaze wandered from the damp darkness of her own person to the room that surrounded her. That darker, damper room filled with a haunting past of men who believed themselves to be wise and yet caused so much misery in their search for healing.
It was clear. It was without doubt. Lucilly was not alone, yet Lucilly felt alone. God was with her, she would have loved to remember, but Lucilly heard a thud from somewhere and a skipped beat of her heart from the inside.
Lucilly watched and observed the room. Her eyes hurt, and her own vision was clouded by overwhelming darkness and the tears she shed.
And yet, another sound. Another person, Lucilly knew. A third one to share her habitation and a second time her solitude - her separation from the light - grew to be oh so stronger.
Then a name rang out. Softly. Silent. Spoken without confidence in herself, but a name spoken nonetheless.
Emma.
And there was light, and the loneliness was gone.
It was clear. It was without doubt. Lucilly was not alone, yet Lucilly felt alone. God was with her, she would have loved to remember, but Lucilly heard a thud from somewhere and a skipped beat of her heart from the inside.
Lucilly watched and observed the room. Her eyes hurt, and her own vision was clouded by overwhelming darkness and the tears she shed.
And yet, another sound. Another person, Lucilly knew. A third one to share her habitation and a second time her solitude - her separation from the light - grew to be oh so stronger.
Then a name rang out. Softly. Silent. Spoken without confidence in herself, but a name spoken nonetheless.
Emma.
And there was light, and the loneliness was gone.
Gervais Frans Lambotte Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern
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Had she missed someone in the dark of the room earlier? The dim light filtering in through the door wasn't quite enough to eliminate the possibility. A large pile of objects had collapsed, a stack of chairs and papers now spilt across the floor, making the room more of a mess than it had been before.
She could hear it now. Someone was sobbing. Amanda felt like a horror movie heroine right now, stupidly blundering her way back into the creepy room just to see what the heck was making that noise.
She gripped on to the rifle tightly. The safety was still on, and her hand was nowhere near the trigger, but it made her feel just a bit safer.
Then there was another voice from somewhere in the darkness, stuttering and clearly afraid. Amanda could only feel relieved hearing the voice. Emma was here, and Emma wasn't dangerous. She'd worked together with Emma before countless times on school committees. Emma was a person that Amanda could trust.
"Emma? It's me, Amanda!"
Amanda made her way further into the room, finding Emma kneeling on the grounds, hands up in the air. Was she scared of her? No, she was scared of what she might have been.
"Don't worry. I'm not going to shoot."
She could hear it now. Someone was sobbing. Amanda felt like a horror movie heroine right now, stupidly blundering her way back into the creepy room just to see what the heck was making that noise.
She gripped on to the rifle tightly. The safety was still on, and her hand was nowhere near the trigger, but it made her feel just a bit safer.
Then there was another voice from somewhere in the darkness, stuttering and clearly afraid. Amanda could only feel relieved hearing the voice. Emma was here, and Emma wasn't dangerous. She'd worked together with Emma before countless times on school committees. Emma was a person that Amanda could trust.
"Emma? It's me, Amanda!"
Amanda made her way further into the room, finding Emma kneeling on the grounds, hands up in the air. Was she scared of her? No, she was scared of what she might have been.
"Don't worry. I'm not going to shoot."
Emma slowly opened her eyes.
"Amanda?"
Amanda. Amanda Tan was a flighty girl, but not a bad one. She could remember being on committees with her. Amanda was a good person, right? Right. She was pretty hardworking and trustworthy. Maybe she was still like that. She said she wasn't going to shoot, though. For a second, Emma wasn't sure whether or not to trust her. But she came closer into view, and Emma saw that she had a rifle of some kind. Again, she said she wasn't going to shoot it, but Emma's heart still skipped a beat when she noticed it.
As she lowered her arms, she realized she had been holding in her breath. A gasp of air escaped her lips.
"Amanda. It's... good to see you. Really."
Emma smiled, even if she was still nervous. Hopefully Amanda didn't have killing on her mind. She didn't like the idea of getting murdered, of course. But she also didn't like the idea of someone she knew turning out to be a murderer.
"Hey... did you see anyone, um, else? I... kind of heard sobbing."
The nausea still floated around her brain. Emma's hand reached up underneath her glasses to massage her eyes. She heard somewhere that rubbing your eyes wasn't a good idea, but it was still a hard habit to break.
"Amanda?"
Amanda. Amanda Tan was a flighty girl, but not a bad one. She could remember being on committees with her. Amanda was a good person, right? Right. She was pretty hardworking and trustworthy. Maybe she was still like that. She said she wasn't going to shoot, though. For a second, Emma wasn't sure whether or not to trust her. But she came closer into view, and Emma saw that she had a rifle of some kind. Again, she said she wasn't going to shoot it, but Emma's heart still skipped a beat when she noticed it.
As she lowered her arms, she realized she had been holding in her breath. A gasp of air escaped her lips.
"Amanda. It's... good to see you. Really."
Emma smiled, even if she was still nervous. Hopefully Amanda didn't have killing on her mind. She didn't like the idea of getting murdered, of course. But she also didn't like the idea of someone she knew turning out to be a murderer.
"Hey... did you see anyone, um, else? I... kind of heard sobbing."
The nausea still floated around her brain. Emma's hand reached up underneath her glasses to massage her eyes. She heard somewhere that rubbing your eyes wasn't a good idea, but it was still a hard habit to break.
"That- ah"
She hesitated. Yet she knew that all hesitation was all for naught. Had Lucilly chosen to cover herself with the obscuring darkness of that damp room, she would have had showed restraint. She should not have raised her voice. And as such, she knew that she chose her reveal when she could not chose.
"That was me, Lucilly."
Her name. She used it. Yet it felt like her own name belonged to another person. A sense of depersonalization, a sense of not recognizing herself befell Lucilly for the moment and the young woman could not grasp his this feeling came to be.
Still she grasped for courage, a courage that was not meant to be broken by her tears or her snot or hear vomit or the sight of another student. No, not even the sight of a gun. A tool for the destruction of human lives. A tool, indeed. A tool that could also not be used, and Lucilly had faith in Amanda. Faith that she would not use that dangerous tool.
Lucilly approached the pair of girls, leaving her bag behind at her original place of solace. She knew that the companionship of friends shall bring a greater solace than a dark corner ever would.
"I... I did not mean to scare you."
She hesitated. Yet she knew that all hesitation was all for naught. Had Lucilly chosen to cover herself with the obscuring darkness of that damp room, she would have had showed restraint. She should not have raised her voice. And as such, she knew that she chose her reveal when she could not chose.
"That was me, Lucilly."
Her name. She used it. Yet it felt like her own name belonged to another person. A sense of depersonalization, a sense of not recognizing herself befell Lucilly for the moment and the young woman could not grasp his this feeling came to be.
Still she grasped for courage, a courage that was not meant to be broken by her tears or her snot or hear vomit or the sight of another student. No, not even the sight of a gun. A tool for the destruction of human lives. A tool, indeed. A tool that could also not be used, and Lucilly had faith in Amanda. Faith that she would not use that dangerous tool.
Lucilly approached the pair of girls, leaving her bag behind at her original place of solace. She knew that the companionship of friends shall bring a greater solace than a dark corner ever would.
"I... I did not mean to scare you."
Gervais Frans Lambotte Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern
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"It was kinda dark, so I didn't actually see anyone. Heck, I didn't even notice you when I left." Amanda said.
Maybe she was just projecting on the darkness but Emma seemed as relieved to see her as Amanda had been. Did Amanda look as scared, as nervous herself, as Emma did? She didn't know. She was scared to know what face she was putting on. She didn't want to be nervous. But she didn't want to a be an emotionless wreck either.
Another call sounded out from elsewhere within the dark room.
"Lucilly?" Amanda didn't know the girl all that well, but she didn't sound dangerous. Scared and cornered but probably not dangerous.
There were three people about in the dark room now. It wasn't a surprise she had missed them though. The room was too dark to make too much out really. The dim light fron the door wasn't enough. Amanda wanted to see.
"Hold on a second, let me get something." Amanda started fumbling with her pack, it wasn't easy, trying to get something while holding on to a gun, but she wasn't about to give up that little bit of safety, just in case anything did go wrong.
"We're all okay here, right? No one's about to do anything stupid, right?" she asked, realising how dumb of a question she was asking. What kind of murderer would give you a chance to fight back like that? A really dumb one, that was what.
Amanda finally pulled it out from somewhere deep within the pack, the torch that she had found in the pack earlier. She struggled with the switch for a second, but the light eventually came on, blindingly bright.
"Ow." Amanda recoiled slightly, almost dropping the torch.
Maybe she was just projecting on the darkness but Emma seemed as relieved to see her as Amanda had been. Did Amanda look as scared, as nervous herself, as Emma did? She didn't know. She was scared to know what face she was putting on. She didn't want to be nervous. But she didn't want to a be an emotionless wreck either.
Another call sounded out from elsewhere within the dark room.
"Lucilly?" Amanda didn't know the girl all that well, but she didn't sound dangerous. Scared and cornered but probably not dangerous.
There were three people about in the dark room now. It wasn't a surprise she had missed them though. The room was too dark to make too much out really. The dim light fron the door wasn't enough. Amanda wanted to see.
"Hold on a second, let me get something." Amanda started fumbling with her pack, it wasn't easy, trying to get something while holding on to a gun, but she wasn't about to give up that little bit of safety, just in case anything did go wrong.
"We're all okay here, right? No one's about to do anything stupid, right?" she asked, realising how dumb of a question she was asking. What kind of murderer would give you a chance to fight back like that? A really dumb one, that was what.
Amanda finally pulled it out from somewhere deep within the pack, the torch that she had found in the pack earlier. She struggled with the switch for a second, but the light eventually came on, blindingly bright.
"Ow." Amanda recoiled slightly, almost dropping the torch.
((Female Student #16: Jaime Steinbeck - GAME START))
There were many ways to react when one realized herself to be an unwilling contestant in the world's most famous survival "game." Some people broke down crying. Others jumped in headfirst to win. Yet others collected themselves and simply tried to survive. A few even killed themselves to spare themselves the horror of the game. Jamie's reaction was slightly different.
"GODDAMN MOTHER FUCKERS!!!"
She had reacted with pure, apoplectic rage upon waking up and coming to her senses. They'd drugged her, kidnapped her, given her an explosive Lo-Jack, killed Mr. Graham (whatever anyone said, that guy was actually somewhat cool), and said ''here you go, fight to the death!"
On top of that, they took away her cell phone and gave her a calculator. A calculator. Not any of the good ones even, just one that probably cost less than ten dollars, and her left foot still hurt from when she kicked the wall when she woke up. So it was quite fit to say that as she entered the room, Jaime was not in the best of moods.
There were many ways to react when one realized herself to be an unwilling contestant in the world's most famous survival "game." Some people broke down crying. Others jumped in headfirst to win. Yet others collected themselves and simply tried to survive. A few even killed themselves to spare themselves the horror of the game. Jamie's reaction was slightly different.
"GODDAMN MOTHER FUCKERS!!!"
She had reacted with pure, apoplectic rage upon waking up and coming to her senses. They'd drugged her, kidnapped her, given her an explosive Lo-Jack, killed Mr. Graham (whatever anyone said, that guy was actually somewhat cool), and said ''here you go, fight to the death!"
On top of that, they took away her cell phone and gave her a calculator. A calculator. Not any of the good ones even, just one that probably cost less than ten dollars, and her left foot still hurt from when she kicked the wall when she woke up. So it was quite fit to say that as she entered the room, Jaime was not in the best of moods.
Survivor: UCONN - Seriously, it's awesome!
Version 8
Kaede Tsurumi: "Eeep! I-I'm so sorry! I-I'll try not to get in your w-way next time!"
Morgan Whitney
Tyler Slomkowski
Victor Grail: "I didn't give you the lead so that you could lose it! I guess it's up to me to carry us after all."
Version 8
Kaede Tsurumi: "Eeep! I-I'm so sorry! I-I'll try not to get in your w-way next time!"
Morgan Whitney
Tyler Slomkowski
Victor Grail: "I didn't give you the lead so that you could lose it! I guess it's up to me to carry us after all."
As Emma pulled her hand away from her face, her fingertips came up wet. But the other voice made itself known pretty quickly.
"Lucilly?"
Lucilly was a name that rang a bell to her, too. One thing Emma could remember about her was that she babysat a lot of kids. She was a nice girl as well. She enjoyed sewing too, if she could remember correctly, and did volunteer stuff.
She came into view, and yes, it was her.
"Lucilly... I'm... I'm glad to see you too," she said.
Despite everything, Emma felt herself smile a bit. Amanda and Lucilly were both good people. Hopefully she could trust them with her life.
"Yeah, I'm o-okay," Emma said in response to Amanda's question. "I'm not feeling well right now, but, um, I don't see myself doing what they say. It's pretty... gross. What they want you to do, I mean. What about you?"
Talking was starting to get a bit easier. It seemed like the gas was wearing off fine, and she'd just have to deal with the usual fog soon. That'd still be a problem, though.
Emma instinctively squinted and raised an arm across her face once Amanda flicked on the flashlight. That was never a good experience, going straight from darkness to bright light. But once she moved her arm away and her eyes adjusted, she could get a better look at the two. Amanda looked nervous. Lucilly still had trails of snot and tears on her face. Emma couldn't help but feel for them. She hoped that they were doing okay emotionally, just as they were physically.
"Hey, it might be... be good for me to sit down, okay? Maybe I'll... er... feel better."
Emma placed her hands on the chair her bag had been on, and started pulling herself up. Her legs felt stiff, like they had weights attached. But it would probably be better to sit on the chair, rather than the dirty floor, didn't it? Emma softly groaned as her leg muscles started working for what felt like the first time in a while. Her feet were now touching the floor, which was good. Now she just had to put her body in the chair, and lean forward.
Unfortunately, a series of loud curse words filled the room, and Emma felt her legs slip under her. Her hands were still tightly grasped onto the chair's backrest, but she lost some balance from the shock. That wasn't Lucilly or Amanda. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know who that was.
"Lucilly?"
Lucilly was a name that rang a bell to her, too. One thing Emma could remember about her was that she babysat a lot of kids. She was a nice girl as well. She enjoyed sewing too, if she could remember correctly, and did volunteer stuff.
She came into view, and yes, it was her.
"Lucilly... I'm... I'm glad to see you too," she said.
Despite everything, Emma felt herself smile a bit. Amanda and Lucilly were both good people. Hopefully she could trust them with her life.
"Yeah, I'm o-okay," Emma said in response to Amanda's question. "I'm not feeling well right now, but, um, I don't see myself doing what they say. It's pretty... gross. What they want you to do, I mean. What about you?"
Talking was starting to get a bit easier. It seemed like the gas was wearing off fine, and she'd just have to deal with the usual fog soon. That'd still be a problem, though.
Emma instinctively squinted and raised an arm across her face once Amanda flicked on the flashlight. That was never a good experience, going straight from darkness to bright light. But once she moved her arm away and her eyes adjusted, she could get a better look at the two. Amanda looked nervous. Lucilly still had trails of snot and tears on her face. Emma couldn't help but feel for them. She hoped that they were doing okay emotionally, just as they were physically.
"Hey, it might be... be good for me to sit down, okay? Maybe I'll... er... feel better."
Emma placed her hands on the chair her bag had been on, and started pulling herself up. Her legs felt stiff, like they had weights attached. But it would probably be better to sit on the chair, rather than the dirty floor, didn't it? Emma softly groaned as her leg muscles started working for what felt like the first time in a while. Her feet were now touching the floor, which was good. Now she just had to put her body in the chair, and lean forward.
Unfortunately, a series of loud curse words filled the room, and Emma felt her legs slip under her. Her hands were still tightly grasped onto the chair's backrest, but she lost some balance from the shock. That wasn't Lucilly or Amanda. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know who that was.
So it was gladness that Lucilly felt. Gladness and gratitude and a sense of hope that bathed her body, that showered her mind and slid down her skin into every pore. Even as Emma mentioned what was unthinkable, and what was unpronounceable even for Emma, Lucilly felt a small sense of happiness filling her all around.
The flash of light, for even if Lucilly was warned beforehand, was a blinding sensation. She shrieked, covered her eyes. Eyes which hurt and which leaked another few tears, this time not due to the darkness enveloping her but the light that shook it all away in an instant.
Lucilly smiled. She saw no reason to smile, if she were to reason in that moment. To see two of her fellow students at her side lessened oh so much pain.
And than, all of it. All of it vanished in an instant. Lucilly shrieked again. All hope was gone just as quick as it came and only a sense of impending doom remained. Lucilly gazed towards Amanda and she gazed towards Emma and wished that if only by looking at those friendly people could she escape from the angry one from the outside.
The flash of light, for even if Lucilly was warned beforehand, was a blinding sensation. She shrieked, covered her eyes. Eyes which hurt and which leaked another few tears, this time not due to the darkness enveloping her but the light that shook it all away in an instant.
Lucilly smiled. She saw no reason to smile, if she were to reason in that moment. To see two of her fellow students at her side lessened oh so much pain.
And than, all of it. All of it vanished in an instant. Lucilly shrieked again. All hope was gone just as quick as it came and only a sense of impending doom remained. Lucilly gazed towards Amanda and she gazed towards Emma and wished that if only by looking at those friendly people could she escape from the angry one from the outside.
Gervais Frans Lambotte Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern
||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
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randomness
- Posts: 236
- Joined: Thu Aug 30, 2018 6:48 am
The room looked worse off in the light of the torch.
How many years had this building been left here to rot? As if the straightjackets weren't enough, there were occasional reddish brown stains on parts of the floor that Amanda sorely hoped was merely grime.
Emma and Lucilly both seemed overwhelmed in their own ways but for everything terrible about the situation, it seemed that they were as alright as a bunch of kids dumped into this situation could be.
Emma wasn't playing. Another relief.
"I... don't think I could. " Amanda answered, a little bit slower than she would have liked. She had a gun after all, she could, if she wanted. But Emma was right. It was gross. Wrong, even. But the possibilty still hung there like a spectre.
It was then that the shouting happened, someone swearing outside, and the doors burst open.
Amanda turned about instinctively, facing the girl who had entered the room, pointing both rifle and torch towards her.
How many years had this building been left here to rot? As if the straightjackets weren't enough, there were occasional reddish brown stains on parts of the floor that Amanda sorely hoped was merely grime.
Emma and Lucilly both seemed overwhelmed in their own ways but for everything terrible about the situation, it seemed that they were as alright as a bunch of kids dumped into this situation could be.
Emma wasn't playing. Another relief.
"I... don't think I could. " Amanda answered, a little bit slower than she would have liked. She had a gun after all, she could, if she wanted. But Emma was right. It was gross. Wrong, even. But the possibilty still hung there like a spectre.
It was then that the shouting happened, someone swearing outside, and the doors burst open.
Amanda turned about instinctively, facing the girl who had entered the room, pointing both rifle and torch towards her.
Jaime should have knocked, or at least have been a bit quieter in her anger. This was not what she was thinking. She did vocalize her thoughts, which went as follows:
"Jesus Christ, get that shit off me! Do you want my goddamn corneas to melt out my fucking skull?" Jaime yelled at the offending asshole as she raised her hands and squinted to get that goddamned light out of her eyes.
"Jesus Christ, get that shit off me! Do you want my goddamn corneas to melt out my fucking skull?" Jaime yelled at the offending asshole as she raised her hands and squinted to get that goddamned light out of her eyes.
Survivor: UCONN - Seriously, it's awesome!
Version 8
Kaede Tsurumi: "Eeep! I-I'm so sorry! I-I'll try not to get in your w-way next time!"
Morgan Whitney
Tyler Slomkowski
Victor Grail: "I didn't give you the lead so that you could lose it! I guess it's up to me to carry us after all."
Version 8
Kaede Tsurumi: "Eeep! I-I'm so sorry! I-I'll try not to get in your w-way next time!"
Morgan Whitney
Tyler Slomkowski
Victor Grail: "I didn't give you the lead so that you could lose it! I guess it's up to me to carry us after all."
A shriek had filled the room, followed by a stream of light pointed towards the new person. It was swiftly followed by a snarl.
Emma still held on tight to the chair, her knees wobbling some. Jaime was a bit of a hothead at school, that she knew. She'd developed a reputation for arguing with teachers, and while she did have some legitimate arguments she still was a stubborn girl. Being a stubborn person wasn't that much of a bad thing. Growing up, Emma was familiar with people calling her that. In a way, being that tenacious was a good thing. But she wasn't sure if it still was when it came to dealing with Jaime. She'd known Jaime, too, from when they took first aid together. She didn't seem armed, but Emma still felt herself breathing faster.
"Jaime! Jaime, it's a-alright. No one here will hurt you. Really," she said.
Emma still felt unwell. Her mouth was still dry, she still felt like throwing up, and her legs still had trouble responding. But, she still felt the situation with Jaime could be defused. If she was just upset, and not at all dangerous, then it probably could be easy. Despite her aching muscles, she tried to pull her head up to look Jaime in the face. Like Emma, Amanda and Lucilly weren't playing, and hopefully they'd help calm her down too. Hopefully.
Emma still held on tight to the chair, her knees wobbling some. Jaime was a bit of a hothead at school, that she knew. She'd developed a reputation for arguing with teachers, and while she did have some legitimate arguments she still was a stubborn girl. Being a stubborn person wasn't that much of a bad thing. Growing up, Emma was familiar with people calling her that. In a way, being that tenacious was a good thing. But she wasn't sure if it still was when it came to dealing with Jaime. She'd known Jaime, too, from when they took first aid together. She didn't seem armed, but Emma still felt herself breathing faster.
"Jaime! Jaime, it's a-alright. No one here will hurt you. Really," she said.
Emma still felt unwell. Her mouth was still dry, she still felt like throwing up, and her legs still had trouble responding. But, she still felt the situation with Jaime could be defused. If she was just upset, and not at all dangerous, then it probably could be easy. Despite her aching muscles, she tried to pull her head up to look Jaime in the face. Like Emma, Amanda and Lucilly weren't playing, and hopefully they'd help calm her down too. Hopefully.