Hell is Other People

[Maraoone]

The saber pointed towards Diego, he yelped, the first lunge, the beginning of the end, he hadn't bought enough time, this was it-

But then,

Lorenzo was here. Take it, Justin had said.

It was the handle. The handle was what Justin pointed towards him.

...he just handed it to him. He literally just. Handed the saber to Diego. Like that.

It was that easy.

For a second, Diego stared wide-eyed at Justin. Then, he grabbed the handle, pushed himself up, scrambled away from Justin.

He turned, ran towards the entrance. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, don't look a gift horse in the mouth, don't look a gift horse in the mouth-

Diego couldn't resist.

He stopped, turned around, standing behind Lorenzo by this point.

"Hey, Justin," Diego called out.

A grin broke out on his face.

"Thanks a lot!"

And then to Lorenzo,

"Run!"

With that, Diego picked up his bags, his shovel, and sprinted away from the infirmary, back the way they came, the entire way, a loud cackling emanating from Diego's lungs.

((Diego Larrosa continues in RICH_BOY_LIKES_IT_ROUGH.MP4))

[Tonyksin]

Lorenzo grinned, watching Justin flail back trying to distance himself from Lorenzo’s weapon. He was next to Diego now. That was fine. Sure, Lorenzo couldn’t lob another swing at him right now in case the swing missed and hit his temporary ally, but as far as Justin was concerned he had no reason to stop his assault. Lorenzo and Diego had him trapped in their web, and Justin had no clue at all. Honestly, Lorenzo would have laughed if he weren’t trying to keep the other boy on the ropes. Diego was turning out to be quite the useful tool indeed. Lorenzo gripped the maul tightly and sneered at the boys in front of him. He wanted the threat to sink in. The idea that Justin was experiencing his final minutes to really wash over the other boy. Let the despair of it take the wind out of his sails.

Then, as if they were in a stage play of Lorenzo’s own writing, Justin foolishly handed one of his weapons over to Diego.

Lorenzo’s sneer broke into a mighty grin at this turn of events. Justin must have thought he was strengthening an ally. Two against one versus the big bad Lorenzo. Tag team him and they might have a chance. Too bad for him. The only one about to get double teamed here was Justin, and not in the way Lorenzo usually meant it. Although hopefully there would still be quite a bit of penetration. Diego took the weapon, a sword of some kind, and pushed himself to his feet. Now all he had to do was wait for Justin to defend himself from Lorenzo next blow, and attack him from behind! It was clear as day. No way to fuck this up. Justin was as good as dead here.

Well, at least that’s how it should have went.

Diego scrambled away from Justin, making his way behind Lorenzo. Lorenzo’s eyes widened in confusion, and he turned his head to look at the boy with ‘what the fuck’ written all over his face. Diego must have lost it a bit, as he simply thanked Justin for the weapon snarkily and shouted for Lorenzo to run, before sprinting out of the area as fast as his legs would take him. Lorenzo took a moment to stare at the space where Diego had been a moment before incredulously. Was he fucking high? Because he felt fucking high right now. Why would Diego run off when they had the perfect fucking situation?!

Lorenzo gritted his teeth and groaned.

“Fucking idiot!”

Now he was pissed. Lorenzo turned back to Justin and swung the hammer at him wildly. He wasn’t trying to hit him, just to move him further away. He then grabbed a nearby chair and tossed it at the other boy, before turning on his heel and following after Diego.

“Sorry Justin, guess I’ll kill you next time, bitch!” he shouted behind him as he fled the scene, making sure to scoop up his bag at the front door as he did.

This wasn’t how this was supposed to end. Justin was supposed to be removed from the playing field. Diego royally fucked up. Lorenzo would have to make sure he knew that that came with consequences.

…

Next time he better not fuck it up.


[Lorenzo Tavares Continued In RICH_BOY_LIKES_IT_ROUGH.MP4]

[MK Kilmarnock]

Justin stood there, dumbfounded and frozen to the floorboards, when Diego made his intentions clear. It felt to be a multi-layered shock: there was the sting of surprise and betrayal, naturally, coupled with thoughts doubling back on the possibilities of what might happen and what could have happened. Justin's mind had been charitable in his attempts to reason out what just happened; perhaps Diego had been telling HIM to run away from Lorenzo while prioritizing his own safety. Such charity didn't last long the more he thought about Diego's body language, parsing each and every individual detail. He was looking at Lorenzo. He was smiling. He seemed strangely satisfied with being handed a weapon... almost giddy, even, that some clever ruse had worked.

And it did. Justin felt stupid. No, he felt worse. Retarded. He felt like the 'retard' that he had been called time and time again, or 'autistic kid' like people eventually started throwing at him in middle school. He would have been pissed, more at himself than anybody else, if he wasn't so afraid that he was about to die.

But instead of using the saber on its previous owner, Diego ran away and took nothing else, leaving Lorenzo and Justin. The danger hadn't gone, it was only less apparent. Together, those two could have killed Justin and he knew it. He'd signed his own death warrant, and it was not his own doing that he was still alive, but Diego's charitable mistake. Somebody else's shortcomings - not a lack of his own shortcomings - that's what it was. He only lived because somebody else decided to make a bad decision at the same time. And he could have still died; all Justin had to defend himself was the very tire iron he found at arm's reach when he first woke into this hell, because he foolishly gave away the arguably more lethal weapon. Lorenzo had something that could kill in fewer strikes. It had more power and more range, and the boy was probably stronger than him. But now that the fight was one on one, Lorenzo suddenly wasn't feeling it, and he left too.

"Y-You... fuck-sh-sh-sh YOU FUCKING COWARD!" Justin yelped after Lorenzo, only once he'd disappeared through the threshold of the door. They weren't interested in a fair fight. He pretended to blind himself to the fact he didn't like fair fights either, but they had him, and now they were running away after getting what they wanted.

He should have been dead. He should have paid for what he did. Now he got to suffer longer, and now he had to do it while knowing that his life had been precariously held in somebody else's hands before being gingerly handed back to him with a condescending pat on the head and a 'there there, special needs kid.'

Fuck you.

Fuck all of you.

Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you hate hate fuck you hate fuck you

fuck fuck fuck hate fuck hate hate fuck you i hate you fuck you

fuck you fuckers none of this is fair fuck you fuck fuck hate you fuck me i hate this i hate me I hate you i hate everybody

Die Lorenzo fuck fuck FUCK! YOU!



It would be another hour before Justin pulled his head from his shaking and trembling arms, wrists screaming in agony from the tremors he'd induced on them and the marks he'd induced on the walls, on the glass of every window, the soreness in his throat from all the screaming. He'd have broken a camera if he could find one, knowing full well what would happen once he did, but the chaos swimming in his head had blinded him to them... another mercy granted by his own inability to perform a simple task. It'd probably be the last one once the rest of the island found out what he did and how he perpetrated no accident.

Each breath made his lungs tremble a little less, but he probably wouldn't stop shaking until he slept. And even then, Justin fully expected the shaking to be replaced with tears until he could forget this embarrassment or his life ended, whichever came first... and the odds there weren't looking too great.

He'd pay.

They'd all pay.

((Justin Greene continued in a dance in the woods))