(( Emmett Bunnell continued from Right Now I Feel No Pain))))
Emmett drug the rifle behind him, barrel sliding through the dirt as he walked along through the housing area. He knew he lost Myles’ trail at this point. He didn’t care for some reason. He didn’t know why.
He made his way to the infirmary, where he thought he heard voices. He forgot if reloaded his gun or not, but it didn’t matter. Whatever happens will happen. As he circled the building, his eye caught the charred opening around a window, where it looked like someone had taken a flamethrower to it. Below the blackened opening, there were shards of broken glass. Four feet away, he saw a body, a rather familiar one at that.
Marco... Emmett bit the inside of his cheek as he walked closer to him. There was a large hole right though his chest, like a cartoon character being hit with a cannon ball. Bits of rib stuck out of his chest haphazardly. Emmett walked closer to his greyed form. One eye was milky white, and the other was pure black. He saw something under it, wiggling around. The bastard was smiling. Emmett knew he was a murderer, running around with his chainsaw, and his final resting place did nothing but confirm that theory.
“Piece of shit.” He mumbled as he went on his way. Adonis took his chainsaw from that bastard, Emmett remembered. It was his fault. “Excuse me? Hey bitch-“ Emmett kept walking. He wasn’t really hearing that.
“Hey bitch! Don’t you fuckin’ walk away from me!” Emmett stopped and turned around. Marco was still laying there. He wasn’t real. He was just hearing things. His body was lain as it was, his head looking at him. His face twitched. “Why you gaping at me like that, huh? Ain’t never seen a dead body before?”
“You’re not real!” Emmett shouted back. Volker smiled back. “Naww, naaaaaawww, I’m real, as real as it gets.” The cadaver raised an emancipated arm, pointing a finger. “You’re the one that ain’t real, my friend.”
Emmett felt sick. He wasn’t seeing this. “W-we’re not friends... What in the fuck do you want?” The corpse perked up. He laughed a raspy laugh. “Wuh-wuh-wuh-we’re not friends! Heh heee hee. Still the saaame old Emmett, aren’t you. This island ain’t changed you a bi-“
“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?!”
The corspe’s head jumped back, as if startled. His smile came back just as quickly though. “I got everything I wanted. I’m fiiiine. But you? Man I really gotta ask, what do you want?”
Emmett stared quietly. “I-I wanna be alone.”
Volker looked confused. Then he fell back into his original pose, silent. He was gone. Emmett stood and waited. He expected a reply, a taunt, something, anything, but nothing came. He turned around to walk away. He wasn’t real.
“Nawww, that ain’t it!”
Emmett felt shivers as he froze in place. “You’d a just left if you wanted to be alone. You waited for me. What’dya really want, huh?” Emmett stopped and turned around. “Come on, you’re willing to deal with me, so it’s pretty clear you don’t wanna be alone.” “You’re the last person I’d want to spend time with, Marco.” Volker laughed. “But you do want to spend time with me, otherwise, why’re you here?” Emmett turned back around.
“Then again, maybe you DO want to be alone... I mean why else would you turn on all your friends like that?”
“All my friends are dead, Marco!” Volker shook his head. “Oh shut up with that crybaby shit, and take it like a bitch. You’ve been given chance and chance again to do things right, and you throw it away every time. What about that other weirdo with MY chainsaw? Is he dead yet? All he tried to do was help!”
“He tried to use me!”
Marco visibly cringed. “Oooh, that’s funny coming from you, Emmett. Y’know, considering that’s all you’ve ever done to anyone was use them until they don’t have use anymore.”
“Shut up.”
“I mean, when you were all depressed and shit, I tried to cheer you up. One day you saw a chance to climb that cute little social ladder that means oh so much now, and you discarded and embarrassed me in front of everyone else-“ “You did that yourself you fucking pervert, I was tired of dealing with yo-“
“Adonis was there when you needed someone to be close to, and you couldn’t even tell him to his face that you didn’t want him anymore, because you were jealous. You killed him without a second thought, which is funny considering today-“
“Shut up.”
“Then we get to the island. You stood there, hiding behind Emil and Sapphire, and let them fight YOUR fights. You couldn’t even find the commitment to avenge them! You WATCHED them die, and you didn’t do a damn thing.”
“Shut-“
“Oh oh oh, what about Demetri? Yeah, Demetri, that little weirdo, you traded for his gun with that piece of shit spear. You know Erika killed him because of that right? You know if he had that lil’ gun of yours he would have wasted that bitch. You realize that, right? You realize that because of that weak ass trade, she’s still out there killing, all because of you-“
“-up.”
“Then there’s Cecil, who thought that maybe you finally got your shit together. Then you stood right on by, just like the last three hundred fuckin’ times, and you watched him die. You didn’t even say goodbye to your old lover, you wanted to see Cecil die more!”
“Please just-“
“Then there was Declyn. You acted all buddy buddy with him, but you still hated him didn’t you. You were still jealous, even though you knew he wasn’t with Adonis. You just hated him because you could. You let him die, and when you confronted his killers, you let them both walk over you like they used to back home! You’ve got no fucking conviction! You were just jealous of him because he had everything you didn’t. A fucking soul.”
“Please just stop, just stop tal-“
Marco had stood up, and was right in Emmett’s face now. He wasn’t smiling. He was furious.
“No! No you shut up Emmett! You shut the fuck up! Look at what you did to Jonathan! He had nothing to offer to you period, so you just treated him like shit, and BLAMED him, just for existing! You know what Emmett, you shut up, you fucking shut up, and you fucking listen! For once in your life you fucking listen!”
Emmett curled up. He was crying now, and he didn’t even know when he started. Marco kept going, kept ranting, like he used to do, like he always did.
“You had chance after chance after chance, and you willingly fucked it up every time. Of all the people I ever met, you are definitely the worst, THE goddamn WORST person I ever knew. If I had the chance to kill you, I wouldn’t even do that, because you deserve to live on and suffer, that’s how much I hate you, that’s how much everyone hates you!”
Emmett put his hands over his ears. He was screaming and crying and he just wished that Volker would shut up, but he won’t. He won’t he won’t he won’t!
“You blame me for what happened to Adonis, but I did nothing to him. I was just there for him, when nobody else was...”
Emmett looked up to see Marco smile. “Y-y-you used him...”
“No... No I didn’t. I gave him a choice and he knew the risks. I died for him. Maybe I shouldn’t have, because then in the end he wouldn’t have died alone, right? All he needed was help, and nobody would give him it. I can relate. But you? You had all the help in the fucking world and some-fucking-how nobody can see you for what you really are. You’re a fucking worm, Emmett. You’re a fucking worm, a spineless little bug that has no point to it’s existence besides soak up in it’s own dirt. You’re a worm and a cuck in every meaning of the words...” Marco’s grin spread ear to ear. Emmett just stared.
“Speaking of that, my time with Adonis was wonderful; for both of us. Y’know, it was a lot like a dream I had...”
Emmett’s face twisted in rage. He shot up and swinged for Marco, screaming. Volker stepped back, dodging the first swing. “HaHaa- now we’re talking! Now we’re getting rowdy! Where was that anger when Lorenzo was alive, huh?” Emmett swung again and again, and he missed again and again and again. Emmett screamed each swing.
“Hahaaa~ You’re a cuck Emmett! A cuck! A cuck! Hahaaa~ You couldn’t save any of your friends! You’re a user, a loser! You fucking worm! Get mad, motherfucker! Get mad! Get mad little girl!”
Emmett swung as hard as he could. His fist smashed into the tree, as pain flooded his senses, his knuckles and wrist screaming. He curled up on the ground back to sobbing again. “Go away,” he cried. “Please just go away!”
A boot stepped into his view. “Aaaaawww...” It mocked. “Now there’s the Emmett I know.” It reared back and kicked Emmett in the ribs. The pain was very, very, real. “Blame someone else! Feel sorry for yourself! It’s not your fault, it’s someone else’s! Crawl lil worm, crawl!” Marco sent his boot into Emmett again and again.
“While you were patting yourself on the back at the beach, I was getting tortured!” Another kick. “While you were letting the Other Marco formerly known as Nona contemplate suicide, I was finding the resolve to crawl from the bottom! While you were watching your friends die, I was taking destiny into my own hands, I controlled my own fate! While you were giving up, I was taking each challenge standing up, I fought my weakness and won! I earned my right to die! As long as you’re a worm, you’ll never get what you want in the end!”
Emmett vomited on the ground, as the thrashing stopped. “I know what you want now.” Emmett choked back sobs. “Please, just stop...”
“No. It don’t work that way. You want something, you gotta take it. You want it to stop? Make it.” Emmett started crawling away. Marco didn’t stop kicking him.
“Crawl little worm, crawl! Quit being a bitch you fuckin’ coward! Earn your place! Take what you want!”
Emmett drug himself forward, to the volley gun. “Come on you little bitch! Kill your fucking weakness! If you ain’t got a reason to die, you ain’t got a reason to live you big poon!”
Each little inch he dragged himself felt like a mile. Each kick was punctuated by another, then another. He felt vertigo, as if he was seeing the same thing from seven different angles simultaneously. He felt it. He could’ve swore there were multiple Marcos kicking the shit out of him. They were all laughing.
Emmett grabbed the gun. The words swam in his head. The laughing, the pain.
“Kill your weakness.”
Emmett put the barrel of his gun under his chin, and pulled the trigger.
Reborn
Oneshot of a sort
There was a flash of white, and Emmett opened his eyes. It was already the next morning...
He was sitting on his knees, curled around the volleygun. His knuckles were white from squeezing the trigger so hard for so long. There were indents of the seven barrels underneath his chin. His whole body aches.
His first thought was that this whole thing was some mental breakdown induced dream. It very well may have been. He uncurled his legs from underneath him, and peeled his hands from his gun, fingers and feet numb, joints creaking as if he aged up sixty years. Upon standing up, he went blind, and his body turned cold. Tv static filled his ears as he became completely numb, his body losing control of itself.
When he came to, he was back on the ground again, stars and blackness washing away from his peripheral vision. Being sat down like that wasn’t good for an hour, let alone a whole day.
His second thought was that it was a damn shame the gun wasn’t- he looked at the corpse a few feet away. He dared not finish that thought in the fear that the revenant was still there reading his head.
Emmett groaned. He wasn’t real, he was dead, it was just bad timing and his brain wanted to play tricks on him. That was all. As he rolled over to push himself off the ground, he had noticed his nails had black underneath, like dried blood.
It was then he saw his arm, and the crusted blood that caked it. Even with all the grime, he saw the message that his nails carved into his flesh.
‘WORM’
He shuddered and grabbed the volley gun. He may as well reloa-
It was loaded. He remembered then, he HAD loaded it shortly after shooting at Myles. He squeezed the trigger, the gun was pressed up against him. It didn’t fire. Seven shots and none of them went off, not one. Through someone else’s eyes that’d be a miracle. Not to Emmett though.
Something was keeping him around and allowing him to suffer like this. He was forced to stay here for what? What did he do to deserve this? Why was he still here, to what purpose did he have still being here while all of his friends were dead...
A purpose.
Whatever he was here for, it wasn’t up to him. He had no choice in the matter in the end. He could have hit Myles, but something moved the barrel, something forced him to stop. Could have shot himself, in fact he did, but the gun misfired. Those rounds were duds.
He looked at the corpse. “You’re wrong, Marco. I’ve never had a choice. I can’t take what I want because something up there, won’t let me. I get that you’re mad because you’re dead, but it just isn’t my time yet.”
He swallowed his spit. “You’re right about one thing, though...”
“When I finally get to rest, I’ll have earned it in the end.”
He unloaded the dud rounds onto the dirt, and inserted a fresh set. There wasn’t a point in feeling sorry for himself anymore, the dead were dead. Pain was meaningless in the end, because as long as he was breathing he’d be hurting. He had no choice but to push through it, it was easy now. All of his sins he’d pay for and make up for in the end.
Truth was he didn’t know how, but that’s alright. He’ll figure out soon enough.
((Emmett Bunnell continued elsewhere.))
He was sitting on his knees, curled around the volleygun. His knuckles were white from squeezing the trigger so hard for so long. There were indents of the seven barrels underneath his chin. His whole body aches.
His first thought was that this whole thing was some mental breakdown induced dream. It very well may have been. He uncurled his legs from underneath him, and peeled his hands from his gun, fingers and feet numb, joints creaking as if he aged up sixty years. Upon standing up, he went blind, and his body turned cold. Tv static filled his ears as he became completely numb, his body losing control of itself.
When he came to, he was back on the ground again, stars and blackness washing away from his peripheral vision. Being sat down like that wasn’t good for an hour, let alone a whole day.
His second thought was that it was a damn shame the gun wasn’t- he looked at the corpse a few feet away. He dared not finish that thought in the fear that the revenant was still there reading his head.
Emmett groaned. He wasn’t real, he was dead, it was just bad timing and his brain wanted to play tricks on him. That was all. As he rolled over to push himself off the ground, he had noticed his nails had black underneath, like dried blood.
It was then he saw his arm, and the crusted blood that caked it. Even with all the grime, he saw the message that his nails carved into his flesh.
‘WORM’
He shuddered and grabbed the volley gun. He may as well reloa-
It was loaded. He remembered then, he HAD loaded it shortly after shooting at Myles. He squeezed the trigger, the gun was pressed up against him. It didn’t fire. Seven shots and none of them went off, not one. Through someone else’s eyes that’d be a miracle. Not to Emmett though.
Something was keeping him around and allowing him to suffer like this. He was forced to stay here for what? What did he do to deserve this? Why was he still here, to what purpose did he have still being here while all of his friends were dead...
A purpose.
Whatever he was here for, it wasn’t up to him. He had no choice in the matter in the end. He could have hit Myles, but something moved the barrel, something forced him to stop. Could have shot himself, in fact he did, but the gun misfired. Those rounds were duds.
He looked at the corpse. “You’re wrong, Marco. I’ve never had a choice. I can’t take what I want because something up there, won’t let me. I get that you’re mad because you’re dead, but it just isn’t my time yet.”
He swallowed his spit. “You’re right about one thing, though...”
“When I finally get to rest, I’ll have earned it in the end.”
He unloaded the dud rounds onto the dirt, and inserted a fresh set. There wasn’t a point in feeling sorry for himself anymore, the dead were dead. Pain was meaningless in the end, because as long as he was breathing he’d be hurting. He had no choice but to push through it, it was easy now. All of his sins he’d pay for and make up for in the end.
Truth was he didn’t know how, but that’s alright. He’ll figure out soon enough.
((Emmett Bunnell continued elsewhere.))