((Cecil Salazar-Loveless continued from lethobenthos))
Meanwhile, a still grief-stricken figure had arrived a lot later than he should’ve at a previous spot he and his companions were staying at before.
Except there was nobody there.
For a moment, he wondered if he had been left behind again. Or worse, if he had just been robbed, considering they took his duffel bag with them. He never pegged Emil and Emmett as the type, but then, he never considered Drew leaving him behind either, so it wasn’t like he had a history of a good judge of character ever since he arrived in this island. And yet, he couldn’t even muster up all the irritation at the thought.
He was just…tired. Too tired. And sad.
He tried turning all that despair from Camila’s death to anger, but there was nobody to direct that anger to. He was always on the swift retaliation. But he can’t. There was no name to Camila’s killer. The best thing he could do for now was wait. Wait for tomorrow. Then I’ll know what to do. But for now…
The uncertainty of where Emil and Emmett, on the other hand, was quickly overshadowed by all the types of exhaustion he had already built up the past three days. Cecil wanted to believe that they’ll be back, even if an already large part of himself doubted it. Nonetheless, there was nothing he could do.
Physically, at least.
Stumbling about before leaning against a tree by his side, he slid down to the ground as he felt his knees buckling.
Walked too far. Too long. he thought to himself. And lost too much. Camila’s lifeless face returned to his mind, and silent tears involuntarily started gathering and spilling again.
Since he still had time until tomorrow morning, or when he finds Emil and Emmett…then maybe I can mourn for a little longer.
He pulled his knees to himself, his eyes fluttering close, his cheeks streaked with tears, hands shaking as they still try gripping his knife, head leaning against the trunk, and his whole body lethargic. I probably look like a mess, what with his dirty clothes. And vulnerable, and yet he didn’t want to move so much that he stopped caring for now.
I’m definitely getting my duffle bag from them later.
So tired.
I’ll get up, I swear. Just not now.
So fucking tired.
I still have people to find. Declyn. Declyn.
And sad.
Oh, Camila…
Cecil drifted off to a brief slumber.
Heeling of The USS Dekcuc
)sdrawkcab ti lleps( - Day 3 mid-morning after announcements
-
LeslieFranc
- Posts: 188
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 11:22 pm
Demetri wasn't fast enough, or wasn't ready enough. Time hadn't passed in the right increments. Demetri was watching himself watching a former friend run. Demetri hadn't thought it was urgent, or maybe his sense of urgency had been broken. Some speedometer hidden on the wrong side of cracked glass. Emmett had started running. Or someone had started yelling. Or maybe both those things had happened at the same time. Screaming and shouting and some kind of unholy noise of meat casually thrown into drywall, over and over.
Demetri had only broken into a run himself when it had been too late. Emmett had gone one way, he'd almost gone the other. Trees swiped at him as he rushed by. Where was on the mind, bold and exclamation points but Demetri didn't feel it and didn't understand it, couldn't express it except in the heave of his lungs as he stumbled over the wrong root, burst through the wrong clearing- no, the sounds were getting further away, then closer, then someone was crying, then
Emmett's scream was one of those odd, hellish noises that lingered long after it was gone.
Lorenzo's face was familiar.
That thing under him not.
Bile was a color that could be described. Demetri's fourth birthday, food down the wrong pipe, arms around his stomach. Nasty pale green turned yellow in an odd variety assortment of shapes prior sculpted by his teeth.
Everything else below. Maybe a face, but too red in a slow-flowing goo that pooled in a hole that was the wrong place, the wrong size, on a human skull.
The same fruity gaylord clothes, though. Just below the neck that was drifting away at the wrong angle.
"Lorenzo."
Demetri almost started running before Lorenzo did. Two bags hit the ground. A gun did not because it was still there, still between both his hands, where he did not know what to do with it anymore than he knew what to say except
"Lorenzo-!"
Demetri was running after him. Gun leading the way. Finger suddenly on the trigger. Demetri didn't know why that detail mattered.
Demetri had only broken into a run himself when it had been too late. Emmett had gone one way, he'd almost gone the other. Trees swiped at him as he rushed by. Where was on the mind, bold and exclamation points but Demetri didn't feel it and didn't understand it, couldn't express it except in the heave of his lungs as he stumbled over the wrong root, burst through the wrong clearing- no, the sounds were getting further away, then closer, then someone was crying, then
Emmett's scream was one of those odd, hellish noises that lingered long after it was gone.
Lorenzo's face was familiar.
That thing under him not.
Bile was a color that could be described. Demetri's fourth birthday, food down the wrong pipe, arms around his stomach. Nasty pale green turned yellow in an odd variety assortment of shapes prior sculpted by his teeth.
Everything else below. Maybe a face, but too red in a slow-flowing goo that pooled in a hole that was the wrong place, the wrong size, on a human skull.
The same fruity gaylord clothes, though. Just below the neck that was drifting away at the wrong angle.
"Lorenzo."
Demetri almost started running before Lorenzo did. Two bags hit the ground. A gun did not because it was still there, still between both his hands, where he did not know what to do with it anymore than he knew what to say except
"Lorenzo-!"
Demetri was running after him. Gun leading the way. Finger suddenly on the trigger. Demetri didn't know why that detail mattered.
V8 Vibes:
V7 Vibes:
Lorenzo heaved over the pile of vomit he’d just expelled. His eyes were still watery, both from the frustration in his gut and the rawness he was beginning to feel in his throat. Another wave of nausea overcame him, and he puked out what little was left inside, nothing coming from inside but bile and tears. His body wanted to release more, but he was spent, so all that followed were terrible dry heaves that shuddered through his body like a quake. Lorenzo attempted to compose himself, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, and struggling to get back to his feet. All he succeeded in doing was pushing himself up to his knees.
Emmett’s blood-curdling scream woke him up somewhat, and his eyes shot to the devastated blonde. Emmett was down on his knees, the ear-shattering scream that came out of his lips still piercing through Lorenzo’s brain. Lorenzo’s eyes darted around the scene. His eyes locked onto the no longer moving body of Emil. His eyes widened as he suddenly remembered something important.
The whole reason he followed the boy.
The prize he’d been after from the start.
Lorenzo crawled forward on his knees, dropping the maul onto the wet ground below him and he made his way closer to the corpse in front of him. He kept his gaze locked on the corpse’s waist, not wanting to have to see the mess that resided above again. He’d seen it earlier. Emil had shoved it into his pocket after showing it off as a taunt. Lorenzo frantically dug his hand into said pocket, first the left, where there was nothing, and then the right, where his fingers brushed against something cold and metallic. He pulled it free from the confines of the pants pocket and held it up so he could view his prize properly.
The Collar Radar. It was finally his. After three days, he’d finally laid claim to it.
Lorenzo felt a small laugh begin to form in the back of his throat, and let it grow into a full-fledged hearty bellow as he stared at his prize, kneeling over the corpse of the boy he’d had to kill to obtain it. Lorenzo’s vision blurred as his eyes continued to leak tears under the cover of the rainstorm above. His laugh was loud and broken. If asked, he couldn’t even have explained why he was laughing. Or was he sobbing? It was too hard to tell the difference anymore.
Lorenzo looked at the radar, and noticed another dot coming towards their location. He shot his head up, looking in the direction of the dot’s arrival. Someone else was coming. The other member of the group from earlier? Lorenzo grabbed for the maul behind him, and used it as a crutch to pull himself to his feet. He shoved the tracking device into his pocket. Didn’t need it now, the other dot had made it’s arrival. Lorenzo’s eyes widened in confusion and then softened with familiarity and sadness.
Demetri.
Lorenzo had to go. He couldn’t let him… he didn’t want him to see him like this. Not Demetri. The one person he ever truly let himself care about. He felt his lips quiver as Demetri stared at him. He hoped he never had to see him here. Those hopes were dashed now. Lorenzo didn’t want to stay and listen. Demetri called his name, and Lorenzo spun on his heel and bolted from the scene.
From behind him he heard his name again. He was running as fast as he could manage. His sides still aching, his new injuries still hurting him. He could hear the footsteps behind him. Demetri was following him. Why?
Why? Why? Why? Why? WHY?!
He turned to look back at the other boy for a second, he could see the gun in his hand. Lorenzo slowed his sprint and stopped, turning to face the boy he’d once considered his best friend.
“Why are you following me?” He asked, his voice trembling. He stared at the other boy, his breathing heavy from the run. The gun was still pointing directly at him.
Emmett’s blood-curdling scream woke him up somewhat, and his eyes shot to the devastated blonde. Emmett was down on his knees, the ear-shattering scream that came out of his lips still piercing through Lorenzo’s brain. Lorenzo’s eyes darted around the scene. His eyes locked onto the no longer moving body of Emil. His eyes widened as he suddenly remembered something important.
The whole reason he followed the boy.
The prize he’d been after from the start.
Lorenzo crawled forward on his knees, dropping the maul onto the wet ground below him and he made his way closer to the corpse in front of him. He kept his gaze locked on the corpse’s waist, not wanting to have to see the mess that resided above again. He’d seen it earlier. Emil had shoved it into his pocket after showing it off as a taunt. Lorenzo frantically dug his hand into said pocket, first the left, where there was nothing, and then the right, where his fingers brushed against something cold and metallic. He pulled it free from the confines of the pants pocket and held it up so he could view his prize properly.
The Collar Radar. It was finally his. After three days, he’d finally laid claim to it.
Lorenzo felt a small laugh begin to form in the back of his throat, and let it grow into a full-fledged hearty bellow as he stared at his prize, kneeling over the corpse of the boy he’d had to kill to obtain it. Lorenzo’s vision blurred as his eyes continued to leak tears under the cover of the rainstorm above. His laugh was loud and broken. If asked, he couldn’t even have explained why he was laughing. Or was he sobbing? It was too hard to tell the difference anymore.
Lorenzo looked at the radar, and noticed another dot coming towards their location. He shot his head up, looking in the direction of the dot’s arrival. Someone else was coming. The other member of the group from earlier? Lorenzo grabbed for the maul behind him, and used it as a crutch to pull himself to his feet. He shoved the tracking device into his pocket. Didn’t need it now, the other dot had made it’s arrival. Lorenzo’s eyes widened in confusion and then softened with familiarity and sadness.
Demetri.
Lorenzo had to go. He couldn’t let him… he didn’t want him to see him like this. Not Demetri. The one person he ever truly let himself care about. He felt his lips quiver as Demetri stared at him. He hoped he never had to see him here. Those hopes were dashed now. Lorenzo didn’t want to stay and listen. Demetri called his name, and Lorenzo spun on his heel and bolted from the scene.
From behind him he heard his name again. He was running as fast as he could manage. His sides still aching, his new injuries still hurting him. He could hear the footsteps behind him. Demetri was following him. Why?
Why? Why? Why? Why? WHY?!
He turned to look back at the other boy for a second, he could see the gun in his hand. Lorenzo slowed his sprint and stopped, turning to face the boy he’d once considered his best friend.
“Why are you following me?” He asked, his voice trembling. He stared at the other boy, his breathing heavy from the run. The gun was still pointing directly at him.
They found themselves in a place where everything looked the same, except for the conspicuous absence of a faceless corpse.
Demetri could remember some oddly specific idea- that he'd once been envious of Lorenzo's hair. Not like, the 'do specifically or anything, the color. As in, objectively it had been edgy tween shit, and still was to this day. But it had been, like... awesome, all the same. Courageous, in a way Demetri could never have been. He'd admired Lorenzo for that alone. For being the cool friend, the one who said and did the things Demetri could never bring himself to do. Who kicked ass and took names and put them on a list.
Add one more thing to the list, then burn the entire thing to embers.
"Why... how, how could you-?" Demetri choked back a word, unsure if it was the right word, or if it was even a word at all. Maybe it was just pure emotion trying to escape his lungs like soda bubbling over. Sure didn't sound like it, he still sounded like a robot pretending to be human until it got close enough to steal the Uber driver's job.
Lorenzo's face was still familiar. Somehow. All those years of pretending the dude didn't exist, all those years of purposely mixing up the gay agenda in his head, one parts Fontaine, one parts Tavares, one parts Bunnell, sprinkle in the other soyboys to taste. Lorenzo still stood out. It was like no time had passed, like they were still those stupid kids who'd gone to concerts and lusted over merch together all those years ago.
No words. Back then, and now still.
He continued to aim the gun, and wondered where his conviction was.
Demetri could remember some oddly specific idea- that he'd once been envious of Lorenzo's hair. Not like, the 'do specifically or anything, the color. As in, objectively it had been edgy tween shit, and still was to this day. But it had been, like... awesome, all the same. Courageous, in a way Demetri could never have been. He'd admired Lorenzo for that alone. For being the cool friend, the one who said and did the things Demetri could never bring himself to do. Who kicked ass and took names and put them on a list.
Add one more thing to the list, then burn the entire thing to embers.
"Why... how, how could you-?" Demetri choked back a word, unsure if it was the right word, or if it was even a word at all. Maybe it was just pure emotion trying to escape his lungs like soda bubbling over. Sure didn't sound like it, he still sounded like a robot pretending to be human until it got close enough to steal the Uber driver's job.
Lorenzo's face was still familiar. Somehow. All those years of pretending the dude didn't exist, all those years of purposely mixing up the gay agenda in his head, one parts Fontaine, one parts Tavares, one parts Bunnell, sprinkle in the other soyboys to taste. Lorenzo still stood out. It was like no time had passed, like they were still those stupid kids who'd gone to concerts and lusted over merch together all those years ago.
No words. Back then, and now still.
He continued to aim the gun, and wondered where his conviction was.
V8 Vibes:
V7 Vibes:
It was funny, really. Lorenzo couldn’t quite remember the last time he and Demetri had spoken for this long. Honestly, it might have been that day. The day their friendship died. His heart hurt just thinking about it. What a waste. He should have tried to bridge the gap, maybe. It was strange, but all of a sudden Lorenzo pined for those days again. Everything was so much simpler. Not like here. Here there was nothing but pain and complicated feelings. He frowned at Demetri, the other boy’s gun still pointed at him.
Maybe it would be better if he’d just pull the trigger and end it all.
Then all of the pain would stop.
Then his heart would stop hurting.
Unfortunately, Lorenzo couldn’t allow himself the luxury of dying here. Then what would have been the point of anything? What would have been the point of killing Emil? It would be for nothing, and he couldn’t allow that. He gave in to the monster they wanted him to be. The Tyrells and Violets. But it wasn’t for nothing. It was so he could make it back to the people who cared about him. Who really loved him. How could he die on them here, and leave them with such a bitter ending? No. This was all for them. So they wouldn’t have to mourn him. So that they could survive this.
“How?” He threw the question back. It seemed kind of ridiculous to ask now. Wasn’t the answer obvious? Why else would he do what he’d done? Lorenzo stared at Demetri and shrugged his shoulders lightly.
“I don’t want to die here. That’s all.”
When he said it aloud, it sounded so simple and easy. Why did it seem like nobody else understood? Did they not hear the same things that day, when they watched their teacher die? Did they not feel the bombs strapped around their necks, like dog collars chaining them to this island? They were the ones who made no sense. Lorenzo was only doing what he had to do.
“Are you going to shoot me?” He asked, his voice level and his eyes sad as he looked at his former friend.
Maybe it would be better if he’d just pull the trigger and end it all.
Then all of the pain would stop.
Then his heart would stop hurting.
Unfortunately, Lorenzo couldn’t allow himself the luxury of dying here. Then what would have been the point of anything? What would have been the point of killing Emil? It would be for nothing, and he couldn’t allow that. He gave in to the monster they wanted him to be. The Tyrells and Violets. But it wasn’t for nothing. It was so he could make it back to the people who cared about him. Who really loved him. How could he die on them here, and leave them with such a bitter ending? No. This was all for them. So they wouldn’t have to mourn him. So that they could survive this.
“How?” He threw the question back. It seemed kind of ridiculous to ask now. Wasn’t the answer obvious? Why else would he do what he’d done? Lorenzo stared at Demetri and shrugged his shoulders lightly.
“I don’t want to die here. That’s all.”
When he said it aloud, it sounded so simple and easy. Why did it seem like nobody else understood? Did they not hear the same things that day, when they watched their teacher die? Did they not feel the bombs strapped around their necks, like dog collars chaining them to this island? They were the ones who made no sense. Lorenzo was only doing what he had to do.
“Are you going to shoot me?” He asked, his voice level and his eyes sad as he looked at his former friend.
Just a bit of dude talk, that was all. The bantz. Nothing like a corpse shared between friends.
Demetri didn't know, was he supposed to be crying now? Screaming, maybe. Demanding Lorenzo come back to the right side of history, the side where he was a trashy asshole, but not the sort that turned skulls to 4k HD fertilizer. Maybe there was a badass action guy quote Demetri was supposed to read off his script. Then there'd be a second of silence, the rain pounding down. Then the heavy trigger would turn light. Click, then close. Boom, then it'd be over. Something something, better to kill a friend then let them turn into an enemy.
None of that resonated at all. Lorenzo was Lorenzo was one of the good old boys was one of the cream tart boys was one of the murderer boys was one of the regrets Demetri could never shake and never admit he had boys.
Demetri shrugged as well. Reflexive, purposeless. The thing was, he guessed, that he didn't really get that train of thought. Yuko, Tyrell, now Lorenzo. They'd all said people had to die. Sacrifices for a life in the singular.
Demetri still couldn't articulate the specifics- why, why it was that he was sure to his still-beating but not for long heart that his own family and all the boys back home would rather cry over his coffin then have him live to tell the tale. Fuck. He guessed being not so good with his words had never stopped being a thing. Even up to now, when there was so little time left to pretend he'd ever had the chance to get better.
"I'm... I'm gonna-"
This was a great start to his cinematic moment, yeah.
"No." Demetri took a step forward. He didn't realize the ground was so unstable. Maybe it was the mud, or maybe it was the fact that every one of his bones felt recast from iron and lead. "You- not gonna. You have to come with me. Stop this." Very specific. The gun was saying everything he wasn't, he guessed. Demetri took another step forward. Half-hearted. He stared at Lorenzo, dead on. Saw all the things he didn't want to see.
Demetri didn't know, was he supposed to be crying now? Screaming, maybe. Demanding Lorenzo come back to the right side of history, the side where he was a trashy asshole, but not the sort that turned skulls to 4k HD fertilizer. Maybe there was a badass action guy quote Demetri was supposed to read off his script. Then there'd be a second of silence, the rain pounding down. Then the heavy trigger would turn light. Click, then close. Boom, then it'd be over. Something something, better to kill a friend then let them turn into an enemy.
None of that resonated at all. Lorenzo was Lorenzo was one of the good old boys was one of the cream tart boys was one of the murderer boys was one of the regrets Demetri could never shake and never admit he had boys.
Demetri shrugged as well. Reflexive, purposeless. The thing was, he guessed, that he didn't really get that train of thought. Yuko, Tyrell, now Lorenzo. They'd all said people had to die. Sacrifices for a life in the singular.
Demetri still couldn't articulate the specifics- why, why it was that he was sure to his still-beating but not for long heart that his own family and all the boys back home would rather cry over his coffin then have him live to tell the tale. Fuck. He guessed being not so good with his words had never stopped being a thing. Even up to now, when there was so little time left to pretend he'd ever had the chance to get better.
"I'm... I'm gonna-"
This was a great start to his cinematic moment, yeah.
"No." Demetri took a step forward. He didn't realize the ground was so unstable. Maybe it was the mud, or maybe it was the fact that every one of his bones felt recast from iron and lead. "You- not gonna. You have to come with me. Stop this." Very specific. The gun was saying everything he wasn't, he guessed. Demetri took another step forward. Half-hearted. He stared at Lorenzo, dead on. Saw all the things he didn't want to see.
V8 Vibes:
V7 Vibes:
Lorenzo smiled, in spite of everything.
Wouldn’t it have been great to do what Demetri said. Go with him, and spend what was left of their days together, doing what they could to survive, before the island inevitably swallowed them along with the rest of their classmates. To give up his crusade to get home, and just accept that he was going to die here. To in the end feel the warmth of friendship for this person who used to mean the world to him. Maybe even to die feeling the slightest bit of happiness in the end.
But no.
It was too late for such things.
Demetri knew that too, Lorenzo could tell. In the end they were just words. Lorenzo couldn’t go back, even if he wanted to. And he wasn’t sure he did. He chose this path, and he had to follow where it led him. Whether that was to his home and his family, or to an early grave somewhere on this island, he didn’t know, but he did know that it was his burden to find out. He felt tears again, spilling down his cheeks and burning a path.
“I wish I could.” His voice cracked weakly.
“Sorry, Dem.” He hadn’t used that nickname in so long, it felt both foreign and like home.
With nothing but a smile in his wake, Lorenzo spun on his heels and ran from Demetri. The rain continued it’s torrent as he ran, leaving behind someone who for all intents and purposes symbolized who he once was. Who he still could have been if not for this place. Who he wanted to be again for the first time in forever. No shot ever came in his wake. Lorenzo wasn’t surprised. Lorenzo’s smile warped into a weak tremble as he ran, silently sobbing the whole way.
[Lorenzo Tavares Continued In Still Waiting]
Wouldn’t it have been great to do what Demetri said. Go with him, and spend what was left of their days together, doing what they could to survive, before the island inevitably swallowed them along with the rest of their classmates. To give up his crusade to get home, and just accept that he was going to die here. To in the end feel the warmth of friendship for this person who used to mean the world to him. Maybe even to die feeling the slightest bit of happiness in the end.
But no.
It was too late for such things.
Demetri knew that too, Lorenzo could tell. In the end they were just words. Lorenzo couldn’t go back, even if he wanted to. And he wasn’t sure he did. He chose this path, and he had to follow where it led him. Whether that was to his home and his family, or to an early grave somewhere on this island, he didn’t know, but he did know that it was his burden to find out. He felt tears again, spilling down his cheeks and burning a path.
“I wish I could.” His voice cracked weakly.
“Sorry, Dem.” He hadn’t used that nickname in so long, it felt both foreign and like home.
With nothing but a smile in his wake, Lorenzo spun on his heels and ran from Demetri. The rain continued it’s torrent as he ran, leaving behind someone who for all intents and purposes symbolized who he once was. Who he still could have been if not for this place. Who he wanted to be again for the first time in forever. No shot ever came in his wake. Lorenzo wasn’t surprised. Lorenzo’s smile warped into a weak tremble as he ran, silently sobbing the whole way.
[Lorenzo Tavares Continued In Still Waiting]
-
Primrosette
- Posts: 1033
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 9:58 am
- Location: In the Dark Abyss
....
How long had he been sitting there after he had stopped screaming in grief and sorrow?
How long had he been holding Emil's cold, limp hand?
How long had he been crying like a broken child?
How long was his heart going to be shattered?
"Hey.... E-Emil..."
....
"I actually used to watch your stupid videos, you know..."
....
"Not that it matters. I-I just wanted you to know that. H-Ha, ha."
....
"Um.... so saying goodbyes are hard for me. But... f-fuck... Okay, okay..."
....
"You would probably think I'm an idiot for doing this, huh?"
....
"Y-Yeah..."
A choked up cough is heard.
"I just want to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being a jerk. I'm sorry that I left you at the waterfall. I'm sorry that I didn't follow you. I'm sorry that I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry that you were fighting Lorenzo for... for me. I knew... I fucking knew you didn't want me to be sad or hurt anymore. You... You tried and I.... I didn't."
....
"You know what I'm not sorry for...?"
A deep breath and a small chuckle is heard.
"...For loving you. Crazy, right...?"
A soft laugh is heard.
"Yeah, y-yeah. I know, I know."
....
"Emmett the fuck-up falling in love with a guy on a murder island is pretty crazy. But it happened..."
....
"...I just regret that I couldn't tell you because my head was a mess over a lot of fucked up shit."
A shuffle of movement is heard.
"Well, you know now, I guess. If you're still watching over me, Emil."
....
"T-Thank you for always being there for me, Emil. I'm.... I'm going to try to do better, I promise. You can rest now."
A final sob and laughter is heard.
"I love you, Emil. G-Goodbye..."
Then nothing was heard.
---
Time had moved on as Emmett was heading back to the original spot where he and the others had been camping and he knew that his body wanted to collapse in on itself from even walking for so long. He had somehow collected all the bags (even Emil's, he couldn't bare to leave them back there) and he felt the wave of fatigue taking over his weak body. But he didn't want to give up so easily; he wanted to try harder for Emil and for everyone else that he cared about. Dammit!
Emmett then saw someone sleeping and he felt relief taking over his mind. Sadness was a close second because of Emil.
"C-Cecil...?"
How long had he been sitting there after he had stopped screaming in grief and sorrow?
How long had he been holding Emil's cold, limp hand?
How long had he been crying like a broken child?
How long was his heart going to be shattered?
"Hey.... E-Emil..."
....
"I actually used to watch your stupid videos, you know..."
....
"Not that it matters. I-I just wanted you to know that. H-Ha, ha."
....
"Um.... so saying goodbyes are hard for me. But... f-fuck... Okay, okay..."
....
"You would probably think I'm an idiot for doing this, huh?"
....
"Y-Yeah..."
A choked up cough is heard.
"I just want to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being a jerk. I'm sorry that I left you at the waterfall. I'm sorry that I didn't follow you. I'm sorry that I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry that you were fighting Lorenzo for... for me. I knew... I fucking knew you didn't want me to be sad or hurt anymore. You... You tried and I.... I didn't."
....
"You know what I'm not sorry for...?"
A deep breath and a small chuckle is heard.
"...For loving you. Crazy, right...?"
A soft laugh is heard.
"Yeah, y-yeah. I know, I know."
....
"Emmett the fuck-up falling in love with a guy on a murder island is pretty crazy. But it happened..."
....
"...I just regret that I couldn't tell you because my head was a mess over a lot of fucked up shit."
A shuffle of movement is heard.
"Well, you know now, I guess. If you're still watching over me, Emil."
....
"T-Thank you for always being there for me, Emil. I'm.... I'm going to try to do better, I promise. You can rest now."
A final sob and laughter is heard.
"I love you, Emil. G-Goodbye..."
Then nothing was heard.
---
Time had moved on as Emmett was heading back to the original spot where he and the others had been camping and he knew that his body wanted to collapse in on itself from even walking for so long. He had somehow collected all the bags (even Emil's, he couldn't bare to leave them back there) and he felt the wave of fatigue taking over his weak body. But he didn't want to give up so easily; he wanted to try harder for Emil and for everyone else that he cared about. Dammit!
Emmett then saw someone sleeping and he felt relief taking over his mind. Sadness was a close second because of Emil.
"C-Cecil...?"
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LeslieFranc
- Posts: 188
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 11:22 pm
A faint call of his name was what lightly but effectively startled him awake. Alarm bells immediately rang on his mind the moment he realized that he was leaning against a tree, stupidly sleeping, his body limp, vulnerable, completely and utterly vulnerable, shit, and he scrambled to get up, his knife automatically pointed at where the voice came from. Could’ve easily killed me, who, who is—
“Oh.”
He slowly lowered his weapon when he saw Emmett’s face.
“Emmett,” he breathed out with strained relief, the alarm bells finally gradually fading away. Slowly approaching him, Cecil left the tree he had been leaning on. It’s just Emmett, he tried to remind himself, forcing himself to relax as he came closer. Emmett. Who won’t look like he’ll hurt me. For now, at least. Emmett, whom I shared a room with from the trip. Emmett, who’s still carrying my duffel bag—ah good, that’s great—he’s carrying a lot of bags, actually. Emmett—wait.
Cecil blinked.
Emmett who’s always with Emil. Emmett and Emil. And Emil’s missing.
The worst easily came to him at the belated realization, but he attempted to not let that thought go crazy yet. He didn’t even know what happened. Nothing good will come out of presuming just because someone was missing and that Emmett was carrying a lot of bags—except for the fact of where we are—he should ask first—Two dead bodies in one day—ask a question, don’t be paranoid—Camila’s dead. Looks like they’ve been busy at the same time—
“Hey,” he cautiously glanced at Emmett as his hand reached out to get his duffel bag back. “Where’s Emil?”
Cecil tried to make it sound as casual as possible, but he couldn’t help the dread pooling at his stomach from another upcoming tragedy following Camila’s death that was still fresh and bleeding.
“Oh.”
He slowly lowered his weapon when he saw Emmett’s face.
“Emmett,” he breathed out with strained relief, the alarm bells finally gradually fading away. Slowly approaching him, Cecil left the tree he had been leaning on. It’s just Emmett, he tried to remind himself, forcing himself to relax as he came closer. Emmett. Who won’t look like he’ll hurt me. For now, at least. Emmett, whom I shared a room with from the trip. Emmett, who’s still carrying my duffel bag—ah good, that’s great—he’s carrying a lot of bags, actually. Emmett—wait.
Cecil blinked.
Emmett who’s always with Emil. Emmett and Emil. And Emil’s missing.
The worst easily came to him at the belated realization, but he attempted to not let that thought go crazy yet. He didn’t even know what happened. Nothing good will come out of presuming just because someone was missing and that Emmett was carrying a lot of bags—except for the fact of where we are—he should ask first—Two dead bodies in one day—ask a question, don’t be paranoid—Camila’s dead. Looks like they’ve been busy at the same time—
“Hey,” he cautiously glanced at Emmett as his hand reached out to get his duffel bag back. “Where’s Emil?”
Cecil tried to make it sound as casual as possible, but he couldn’t help the dread pooling at his stomach from another upcoming tragedy following Camila’s death that was still fresh and bleeding.
"Gone. He's-.. he's gone."
Demetri emerged from the trees, at the somewhat wrong angle from either of Cecil or Emmett. About the time Cecil had asked the question that had to be answered way too soon Demetri had shown up, which had been about the time he'd been ready to accept that he was lost again. Funny how not particularly useful a corpse was as a landmark on a mental map. Minutes following of Demetri desperately chimp-running through the trees while the actual human ancestors looked on in scorn from the treetops. It could have been the most poignant of Demetri's greentext eulogies. The legend of the Wizard Man who swish and flicked-ed his way into managing to lose another group within the span of less than twelve hours, all because he'd been pointing his compensating-for-something (five inches) gun at some green hair idiot who liked facefucking men in more ways than one.
In some no longer funny at all way that had been a pretty good one.
Demetri trudged in a self-imposed silence a bit of a ways further into the narrow clearing. His forehead found the rough bark of a tree and dug in a little bit. The gun nuzzled the earth with barrel shape lips. He stood in a stoic repose, his soaked shirt clinging to the slender tube of his chest.
"... Either of you want the gun?"
He didn't need it, honestly. He'd proven that to himself. To all the other people judging him in his post-mortem future.
Demetri emerged from the trees, at the somewhat wrong angle from either of Cecil or Emmett. About the time Cecil had asked the question that had to be answered way too soon Demetri had shown up, which had been about the time he'd been ready to accept that he was lost again. Funny how not particularly useful a corpse was as a landmark on a mental map. Minutes following of Demetri desperately chimp-running through the trees while the actual human ancestors looked on in scorn from the treetops. It could have been the most poignant of Demetri's greentext eulogies. The legend of the Wizard Man who swish and flicked-ed his way into managing to lose another group within the span of less than twelve hours, all because he'd been pointing his compensating-for-something (five inches) gun at some green hair idiot who liked facefucking men in more ways than one.
In some no longer funny at all way that had been a pretty good one.
Demetri trudged in a self-imposed silence a bit of a ways further into the narrow clearing. His forehead found the rough bark of a tree and dug in a little bit. The gun nuzzled the earth with barrel shape lips. He stood in a stoic repose, his soaked shirt clinging to the slender tube of his chest.
"... Either of you want the gun?"
He didn't need it, honestly. He'd proven that to himself. To all the other people judging him in his post-mortem future.
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Primrosette
- Posts: 1033
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 9:58 am
- Location: In the Dark Abyss
Emmett was relieved that he didn't have to tell Cecil about Emil because of Demetri arriving just in time to speak and the fact that Emmett wasn't going to have to start crying and stumbling over his words to describe Emil's death. He handed out Cecil's bag to him with a shaky hand, then he moved over to a tree with shade and he put down Emil's bags there. He... He didn't want to open the dufflebag as he knew that it would hurt him in the long run and he didn't want to lose himself again. He couldn't let Lorenzo win. He couldn't let that asshole break his spirit again.
"Lorenzo.... He did it. Again." Emmett said in an exhausted tone of voice and he rubbed a hand over his mouth, letting out a frustrated sigh. "I...I said my goodbyes to Emil as I felt that it was the right thing to do and I just.... Fuck.... I need to do something about Lorenzo before he hurts more people and I don't want to feel so much more guilt about doing nothing. …Like with Sapphire and... Em... E-Emil."
Demetri had asked about either him or Cecil wanting the gun and Emmett found himself staring at it with uncertainty visible in his eyes. He didn't know how to use a gun and he had never used one before in his whole life. But he found himself wanting to have the gun so that he could.... Well, just so that he could have it on hand. Just in case he had to use it at some point in the following days.
Emmett moved over to Demetri and he held out the spear towards him, feeling himself letting out a shaky breathe. "...I'll take the gun in exchange for this." He said simply, waiting to see what Cecil and Demetri would say and do next.
"Lorenzo.... He did it. Again." Emmett said in an exhausted tone of voice and he rubbed a hand over his mouth, letting out a frustrated sigh. "I...I said my goodbyes to Emil as I felt that it was the right thing to do and I just.... Fuck.... I need to do something about Lorenzo before he hurts more people and I don't want to feel so much more guilt about doing nothing. …Like with Sapphire and... Em... E-Emil."
Demetri had asked about either him or Cecil wanting the gun and Emmett found himself staring at it with uncertainty visible in his eyes. He didn't know how to use a gun and he had never used one before in his whole life. But he found himself wanting to have the gun so that he could.... Well, just so that he could have it on hand. Just in case he had to use it at some point in the following days.
Emmett moved over to Demetri and he held out the spear towards him, feeling himself letting out a shaky breathe. "...I'll take the gun in exchange for this." He said simply, waiting to see what Cecil and Demetri would say and do next.
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LeslieFranc
- Posts: 188
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 11:22 pm
Demetri’s appearance easily made Cecil completely vigilant once again, nearly jumping in surprise and raising his knife at his direction. He didn’t immediately lower it until he processed that Demetri had just answered his question concerning Emil. The only thing that stopped him from finally lowering his guard was the large gun in the other boy’s hand. A part of him might be wondering if his disdain towards back home was part of it, but somehow it seemed like a remotely unimportant detail in context of the current situation.
The general situation being Survival of the Fittest, but the specific one in this moment being Emil’s dead, too.
It was easier to let his body somberly go slack at the confirmation of another death.
Just like Camila.
No tears, but it affected him more than it should’ve.
Accepting the return of his bag, he turned to Emmett in askance, and he was more than willing enough to tell him the details, at least.
That name again. Lorenzo Tavares. It was nothing more than a name to Cecil, along with a vague recollection of a face to put the name onto. What he knew about him was what he had heard from Emil and Emmett, but now a clearer image of him is now present, one that filled him with cold detestation. Emil’s killer.
Emil. He spent a short amount of time with him during the trip and a shorter amount here in the island. The list of words that Cecil associated with him was limited.
Vape pen. Kind of an idiot. Very loud. And a promise to help each other.
And just like that, he was already dead. Another reunion with a dead body, except he hadn’t even seen Emil’s, and he had no plans of looking for it either. If anything, he would have to assume Emmett already did what he could do for Emil, the same way Cecil did what he could for Camila.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured tonelessly, looking at Emmett in understanding before his eyes immediately turned to Demetri’s offer in interest.
While Emmett seemed unsure, Cecil was certainly not. However, he verbally claimed the weapon before he did.
Annoyed, but not in the mood to start an argument, he tried not to seem too hostile as he approached closer to Emmett and Demetri’s weapon exchange.
Even then, he couldn’t help but stare at gun, taking note of its appearance and how it was probably used based only on what he saw.
Big gun. Lot of barrels, he mused. And in Emmett’s hands…
A certain thought popped into his head, and rather thoughtlessly, he immediately asked the question to Emmett in genuine curiosity.
“Do you plan to hunt down Lorenzo?”
The general situation being Survival of the Fittest, but the specific one in this moment being Emil’s dead, too.
It was easier to let his body somberly go slack at the confirmation of another death.
Just like Camila.
No tears, but it affected him more than it should’ve.
Accepting the return of his bag, he turned to Emmett in askance, and he was more than willing enough to tell him the details, at least.
That name again. Lorenzo Tavares. It was nothing more than a name to Cecil, along with a vague recollection of a face to put the name onto. What he knew about him was what he had heard from Emil and Emmett, but now a clearer image of him is now present, one that filled him with cold detestation. Emil’s killer.
Emil. He spent a short amount of time with him during the trip and a shorter amount here in the island. The list of words that Cecil associated with him was limited.
Vape pen. Kind of an idiot. Very loud. And a promise to help each other.
And just like that, he was already dead. Another reunion with a dead body, except he hadn’t even seen Emil’s, and he had no plans of looking for it either. If anything, he would have to assume Emmett already did what he could do for Emil, the same way Cecil did what he could for Camila.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured tonelessly, looking at Emmett in understanding before his eyes immediately turned to Demetri’s offer in interest.
While Emmett seemed unsure, Cecil was certainly not. However, he verbally claimed the weapon before he did.
Annoyed, but not in the mood to start an argument, he tried not to seem too hostile as he approached closer to Emmett and Demetri’s weapon exchange.
Even then, he couldn’t help but stare at gun, taking note of its appearance and how it was probably used based only on what he saw.
Big gun. Lot of barrels, he mused. And in Emmett’s hands…
A certain thought popped into his head, and rather thoughtlessly, he immediately asked the question to Emmett in genuine curiosity.
“Do you plan to hunt down Lorenzo?”
He could feel the other two looking at him, and all they'd see was the side of his chin. Everything above it buried in curling hair unraveling like wet fleece.
Lorenzo's name mentioned multiple times. Each time Demetri couldn't make sense of what it really meant. Three syllables that had once belonged to a friend. Now something more complicated than that. A bunch of noises of the throat that together meant two people had died, two perfectly good souls now kissing the earth with lips that possibly didn't even exist in intact and tangible wholes.
And yet Demetri couldn't help but see that face still. Lorenzo, in and among all the others. Yuko and Felix and Charelle and Sakurako and a whole mess of people who he somehow felt he shouldered a burden for. Haunting him, from this giant tombstone marker for their classes' collective grave.
Somehow, Lorenzo was killing people but Demetri was still the one feeling the fault and blame. Cucked.
Demetri stared silently at Emmett then, managing to drag his neck out of his shoulders. He waited for the answer to the question. Hand still firmly planted on the gun, spear left on Emmett's side of the space between them.
Lorenzo's name mentioned multiple times. Each time Demetri couldn't make sense of what it really meant. Three syllables that had once belonged to a friend. Now something more complicated than that. A bunch of noises of the throat that together meant two people had died, two perfectly good souls now kissing the earth with lips that possibly didn't even exist in intact and tangible wholes.
And yet Demetri couldn't help but see that face still. Lorenzo, in and among all the others. Yuko and Felix and Charelle and Sakurako and a whole mess of people who he somehow felt he shouldered a burden for. Haunting him, from this giant tombstone marker for their classes' collective grave.
Somehow, Lorenzo was killing people but Demetri was still the one feeling the fault and blame. Cucked.
Demetri stared silently at Emmett then, managing to drag his neck out of his shoulders. He waited for the answer to the question. Hand still firmly planted on the gun, spear left on Emmett's side of the space between them.
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Primrosette
- Posts: 1033
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 9:58 am
- Location: In the Dark Abyss
Emmett didn't even have to think about the question and he was feeling his heart getting heavier as Cecil had apologized to him when he didn't have to. God, he could still feel the guilt over what had happened and he was trying to put on a mask to hide away all the hurt that Lorenzo had caused to him. To Sapphire. To Emil. God, he didn't want to think about all their families back home, he didn't want to imagine what they were all going through and he was trying to focus on the situation right now. He couldn't let his mind wonder to other things. He needed to have a purpose to keep on living.... Surviving....
"Yes..." He said with a more serious, calm-like look on his exhausted face and his grip was more firm on the spear, biting down on his lower lip slightly. "Yes, I'm going to hunt him down and then I'm going to put a fucking bullet through that bastard's skull. That's what I want to do as he made this some personal bullshit against me for no fucking reason! Also the tracker.... Emil's tracker. That freak is going to use that to find other people and then he will kill them. He really wants to get back home. But I'm not going to let that happen. There are better people here who deserve to go back home than that piece of shit!"
Emmett hadn't realized that his voice had gotten louder with anger and that he was clenching his free fist tightly, feeling it trembling uncomfortably. He had to let them know that they couldn't let Lorenzo run around and do whatever he wanted anymore. It was time to stop Lorenzo from hurting anyone else. There was no going back from this. Emmett knew that and he was not going to fucking regret it at all. He just hoped that Cecil and Demetri were on the same page unless they thought he was crazy for wanting to go after a murderer like Lorenzo and then abandoned his pathetic ass just like that.
"Demetri... Can I have the gun? Please...?"
He's not going to give it to you after your crazy reasoning. Just you fucking watch, Emmett...
"Yes..." He said with a more serious, calm-like look on his exhausted face and his grip was more firm on the spear, biting down on his lower lip slightly. "Yes, I'm going to hunt him down and then I'm going to put a fucking bullet through that bastard's skull. That's what I want to do as he made this some personal bullshit against me for no fucking reason! Also the tracker.... Emil's tracker. That freak is going to use that to find other people and then he will kill them. He really wants to get back home. But I'm not going to let that happen. There are better people here who deserve to go back home than that piece of shit!"
Emmett hadn't realized that his voice had gotten louder with anger and that he was clenching his free fist tightly, feeling it trembling uncomfortably. He had to let them know that they couldn't let Lorenzo run around and do whatever he wanted anymore. It was time to stop Lorenzo from hurting anyone else. There was no going back from this. Emmett knew that and he was not going to fucking regret it at all. He just hoped that Cecil and Demetri were on the same page unless they thought he was crazy for wanting to go after a murderer like Lorenzo and then abandoned his pathetic ass just like that.
"Demetri... Can I have the gun? Please...?"
He's not going to give it to you after your crazy reasoning. Just you fucking watch, Emmett...
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LeslieFranc
- Posts: 188
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 11:22 pm
Emmett’s…anger, although it was so much more complicated than that one word, was supposed to be overwhelming. There was the calm before the storm, before he started picking some heat and getting riled up, fury and desperation finally driving all the words he managed to spit out. And then a small plea to receive the weapon he would need to make those word into reality.
Emmett was rather…broken after losing Emil. Just like Cecil currently was after losing Camila. And yet somehow, he still managed to have that spark of life, of energy, of some sort of determination to still see something to run towards to. Unlike Cecil who still felt numb and detached and still waiting for something to happen.
Knowing the name of a target would’ve probably been a good motivator.
And so was the possibility of a better weapon.
Good for Emmett, I suppose.
Glancing at him, he wondered if he truly had the capacity to do what he said. As for Cecil himself, well…I’m still waiting. Waiting for that moment to come.
Even then, he could imagine it working out if he stayed with him for now, despite whatever it was he was planning. If they’ve got the gun, anyway. And with Emil’s bags recovered, they might just have more supplies.
Okay. Good. Breathe.
Everything will never be okay, but he’ll try to work through it as he always did and somehow come out on top somewhere in there.
“Will you be taking the spear then?” he asked Demetri expectantly.
Emmett was rather…broken after losing Emil. Just like Cecil currently was after losing Camila. And yet somehow, he still managed to have that spark of life, of energy, of some sort of determination to still see something to run towards to. Unlike Cecil who still felt numb and detached and still waiting for something to happen.
Knowing the name of a target would’ve probably been a good motivator.
And so was the possibility of a better weapon.
Good for Emmett, I suppose.
Glancing at him, he wondered if he truly had the capacity to do what he said. As for Cecil himself, well…I’m still waiting. Waiting for that moment to come.
Even then, he could imagine it working out if he stayed with him for now, despite whatever it was he was planning. If they’ve got the gun, anyway. And with Emil’s bags recovered, they might just have more supplies.
Okay. Good. Breathe.
Everything will never be okay, but he’ll try to work through it as he always did and somehow come out on top somewhere in there.
“Will you be taking the spear then?” he asked Demetri expectantly.