((Forrest Quin continued from we found shelter in the woods and found savage acts hilarious))
They'd moved on from Abe's original exhibit to something that was more welcoming and possessed some more color. Abe had provided her with food and water which she had eaten and drunk greedily. Forrest hadn't realised just how hungry and thirsty she had been. Her self-inflicted condition having been something she had gotten used to over time. It didn't help make her look less like the living dead, but to his credit, Abe hadn't brought it up. Their time had been spent together not saying or doing anything of any real value but it wasn't like there was a problem with that.
Abe had a gun after all. So if anyone did decide to try anything they'd just shoot them. Bang bang, simple shit. No one had a good answer for bullets, she was sure of that. Not like they had seen anyone anyway, it seemed that they had the run of the art exhibit. It seemed empty, just them and whatever passed for art according to the weirdos that have lived on the island before. Did they count as living on the island? Or were they just temporary inhabitants? Forrest supposed they were only temporary and didn't really count as living on it. They were dying on it sure, but that wasn't quite the same.
Speaking of dying, her hair was killing her. She was going to end up with a ghetto ombre as it kept growing. Half her hair was already brown and the rainbow part was steadily becoming...less rainbow and more brown, which frankly sucked. On the other hand, though she was beginning to get rainbow dreads, which was certainly a look. She ran a hand through the rainbow half, tugging a few times as her fingers got caught on knots and tangles.
"Hey Abe," She began absentmindedly as she brushed some strands off her fingers. "What do you want to do tomorrow?"
DRUGS SAV3D MY LIF3
Night Day 9, Part 2 of we found shelter
DRUGS SAV3D MY LIF3
V8
Aracelis Fuentes
California “Cali” Fox
Darryl Smith Jr.
Jessica Romero
Roberta “Robbie” Woodvine
Aracelis Fuentes
California “Cali” Fox
Darryl Smith Jr.
Jessica Romero
Roberta “Robbie” Woodvine
((Abe hadn't spent the day alone. He'd almost forgotten what that felt like.))
Not like there was anything to do, and there was plenty worth saying, but he and Forrest were doing his best to avoid anything heavy, and what mattered was they were comfortable around each other and that felt like a fucking miracle.
Abe was just reclining, watching Forrest play with her hair. Objectively he was sure both of them were disgusting, but, like, he was biased, and also his nose had stopped registering most things, so she was still pretty cute. Not like there was anything else worth seeing.
"We should just keep laying low," Abe said, idly scratching the hair on his neck that might develop into a proper castaway beard, given a year or two. "No reason to start shit with anyone, right? But I guess if someone's alone, and they don't have a gun or anything..."
"How bad would you feel about a lil' bit of petty robbery?" It felt dangerous to ask, but like, they needed all the stuff they could get.
Not like there was anything to do, and there was plenty worth saying, but he and Forrest were doing his best to avoid anything heavy, and what mattered was they were comfortable around each other and that felt like a fucking miracle.
Abe was just reclining, watching Forrest play with her hair. Objectively he was sure both of them were disgusting, but, like, he was biased, and also his nose had stopped registering most things, so she was still pretty cute. Not like there was anything else worth seeing.
"We should just keep laying low," Abe said, idly scratching the hair on his neck that might develop into a proper castaway beard, given a year or two. "No reason to start shit with anyone, right? But I guess if someone's alone, and they don't have a gun or anything..."
"How bad would you feel about a lil' bit of petty robbery?" It felt dangerous to ask, but like, they needed all the stuff they could get.
Abe started off simply enough, lay low, keep to themselves, it was all general stuff, nothing too crazy but there was joy to be had in simplicity y'know? That was especially true if that joy came from being around the person left alive who you cared about and could trust. She casually nodded along as he outlined his idea for what would be their tenth day on the island, continuing to pull at tangled clumps and knots of her hair as he spoke. It all made sense and was undeniably logical, plus based on what Abe had said previously he'd been making do being a lone wolf for a good portion of his time. So he had the experience of how to make stuff work.
When he asked how she'd feel about robbery Forrest barely had any reaction.
"Yeah man, them or us right?" She said as she stood up, brushing the hair from her hand.
She walked around the perimeter of the new exhibit they had decided to make camp it, it was some kind of weird animal diorama thing, with everything made from painted wicker. It was a miracle it had survived if she was being honest.
"It's not like I give a shit about anyone else that's left anyway." She continued, coming to a stop in front of a construction that resembled a snake of some kind, she cocked her head as she looked at it, it was painted in weird patterns made from blues and purples. She dug it. Eventually, she turned her attention back to Abe.
"So fuck 'em right?" She said with a shrug. "Lil' bit of robbery never hurt anyone."
When he asked how she'd feel about robbery Forrest barely had any reaction.
"Yeah man, them or us right?" She said as she stood up, brushing the hair from her hand.
She walked around the perimeter of the new exhibit they had decided to make camp it, it was some kind of weird animal diorama thing, with everything made from painted wicker. It was a miracle it had survived if she was being honest.
"It's not like I give a shit about anyone else that's left anyway." She continued, coming to a stop in front of a construction that resembled a snake of some kind, she cocked her head as she looked at it, it was painted in weird patterns made from blues and purples. She dug it. Eventually, she turned her attention back to Abe.
"So fuck 'em right?" She said with a shrug. "Lil' bit of robbery never hurt anyone."
(Zachary Beck, continued from my face above the water, my feet can’t touch the ground)
Zach lamented his lack of direction. Somehow, he ended up in some surrealist art exhibit from hell. As he walked onward, eyeing up the weird and fucked up art, he began to hear voices. One male and one female.
Zach crept slowly towards the pair, taking cover behind this blue and purple snake sculpture. As they came into view, he recognized them. Abe Watanabe, tall Asian guy, and Forrest Quin, who he instantly recognized from her multicolored hair (or at least what was left of it).
As for what they were talking about, they talked about robbing someone, probably the next person they see.
"Yeah man, them or us right?”
Zach had to agree with that sentiment. Come to think of it, Zach wondered just how much food he had left.
"It's not like I give a shit about anyone else that's left anyway."
Zach also agreed to that sentiment. Zach had no one else to prove himself to. That one chance he had was long gone.
"So fuck 'em right? Lil' bit of robbery never hurt anyone."
Zach agreed to that too.
As soon as Forrest turned her back towards Abe, Zach readied his weapon. Dropping his bag to the ground, he made a dash towards Forrest, raised his billhook, and swung it down towards Forrest.
Zach lamented his lack of direction. Somehow, he ended up in some surrealist art exhibit from hell. As he walked onward, eyeing up the weird and fucked up art, he began to hear voices. One male and one female.
Zach crept slowly towards the pair, taking cover behind this blue and purple snake sculpture. As they came into view, he recognized them. Abe Watanabe, tall Asian guy, and Forrest Quin, who he instantly recognized from her multicolored hair (or at least what was left of it).
As for what they were talking about, they talked about robbing someone, probably the next person they see.
"Yeah man, them or us right?”
Zach had to agree with that sentiment. Come to think of it, Zach wondered just how much food he had left.
"It's not like I give a shit about anyone else that's left anyway."
Zach also agreed to that sentiment. Zach had no one else to prove himself to. That one chance he had was long gone.
"So fuck 'em right? Lil' bit of robbery never hurt anyone."
Zach agreed to that too.
As soon as Forrest turned her back towards Abe, Zach readied his weapon. Dropping his bag to the ground, he made a dash towards Forrest, raised his billhook, and swung it down towards Forrest.
B018: Ned Jackson- 
G039: Yuki Hayashibara- 
B034: Zachary Beck- “Words to live by,” Abe said with a relieved smirk. He hadn’t expected Forrest to go all moral crusader on him or anything, but he’d been engaging in some pretty fuckin’ antisocial behavior, y’know, and it was good to know that she’d have his back. The other sorry bastards on the island wouldn’t know what hit them, even if like, objectively, Forrest couldn’t be very useful, with the broken arm, and no weapon, and the added drain on his resources, and the fact that he was gonna win, oh look he was pulling the brakes on that train of thought.
“Y’know, funny story, I stole this gun like five seconds after I woke up,” he began, but then a tiny psycho was rushing out of the woods at Forrest.
Abe was never too far away from said gun so it was in his hands at an instant and he jumped into his firing stance, but it didn’t matter, there wasn’t a clean shot, they were too close, why did this always fucking happen, Lucas and Andy, Lorenzo and Axel, third time was the charm, third time had to be the charm, it had to turn out different for once.
“Get away from her,” he screamed, but maybe he should have told Forrest to get down, or to get away from him, whoever he was, or maybe he should have rushed forward, gotten up nice close and personal, be a good macho boyfriend man and tackle that shithead and pound his brains into the dirt, but Abe was Abe, and Abe was going to win, and you didn’t win by getting close to a kid with a sharp hook, so instead he held his ground, desperately waiting for a safe moment to shoot.
“Y’know, funny story, I stole this gun like five seconds after I woke up,” he began, but then a tiny psycho was rushing out of the woods at Forrest.
Abe was never too far away from said gun so it was in his hands at an instant and he jumped into his firing stance, but it didn’t matter, there wasn’t a clean shot, they were too close, why did this always fucking happen, Lucas and Andy, Lorenzo and Axel, third time was the charm, third time had to be the charm, it had to turn out different for once.
“Get away from her,” he screamed, but maybe he should have told Forrest to get down, or to get away from him, whoever he was, or maybe he should have rushed forward, gotten up nice close and personal, be a good macho boyfriend man and tackle that shithead and pound his brains into the dirt, but Abe was Abe, and Abe was going to win, and you didn’t win by getting close to a kid with a sharp hook, so instead he held his ground, desperately waiting for a safe moment to shoot.
A lot of things happened all at once and Forrest's poor slow brain couldn't react to them quickly enough. The first sign that something was wrong was the burning in her shoulder followed by a dull thunk as the blade connected with her collarbone. She screamed out in pain and fear straight away. She hadn't been hurt on the island and the last time she'd hurt herself she'd been high. The amount of pain by itself was shocking but the surprise added to the effect. She pulled herself forward in an attempt to escape but all that did was grind the blade against her bone and tear into her muscles and tendons more.
"Abe!" She cried out for him, she could see him, pointing the gun at them. She felt whatever blade the person was using catch her across the back as she stumbled forward in an attempt to escape. It hurt so much. Abe was still there screaming at her attacker, but he wasn't moving. He was just stood there pointing the gun at them. She needed him. She needed his help. Another slash tore across her body as Forrest spun around to face her attacker. A small boy, Zach maybe? His weapon was coated red with her blood. Still, Abe hadn't shown any sign of movement. Maybe Abe didn't have a good shot? Maybe she was too close? Maybe he was just a coward? Forrest knew she was a coward, at that moment she was terrified.
Reacting more out of instinct than any form of real plan Forrest did the only thing she could think of to try and buy herself some time to get away.
She hit the boy in the face with her cast as hard as she could.
"Abe!" She cried out for him, she could see him, pointing the gun at them. She felt whatever blade the person was using catch her across the back as she stumbled forward in an attempt to escape. It hurt so much. Abe was still there screaming at her attacker, but he wasn't moving. He was just stood there pointing the gun at them. She needed him. She needed his help. Another slash tore across her body as Forrest spun around to face her attacker. A small boy, Zach maybe? His weapon was coated red with her blood. Still, Abe hadn't shown any sign of movement. Maybe Abe didn't have a good shot? Maybe she was too close? Maybe he was just a coward? Forrest knew she was a coward, at that moment she was terrified.
Reacting more out of instinct than any form of real plan Forrest did the only thing she could think of to try and buy herself some time to get away.
She hit the boy in the face with her cast as hard as she could.
Zach’s blade dig into Forrest’s shoulder, staining it red. She had called out for Abe, and when she did, he pulled out a gun. There should have been a gunshot, but it seemed Abe was hesitating. Zach’s instincts kicked in, telling him to run.
Quickly, but clumsily, Zach pulled the blade from Forrest’s shoulder, and struck again, getting her back. When she turned around to face Zach, he swiped at her again, getting her in the torso. And suddenly, Forrest struck Zach in the face with her bandaged arm, sending him stumbling back a bit.
“Fuck!”, Zach exclaimed as his back collided into the snake statue.
Zach’s grip on the billhook tightened. He knew he was in some serious shit. He didn’t even think to check if Abe or Forrest had any guns on them. He was at a severe disadvantage with only a melee ranged weapon in his possession. If he stuck around here any longer, he’d likely perish.
Zach got up again, ready to make his next move.
Quickly, but clumsily, Zach pulled the blade from Forrest’s shoulder, and struck again, getting her back. When she turned around to face Zach, he swiped at her again, getting her in the torso. And suddenly, Forrest struck Zach in the face with her bandaged arm, sending him stumbling back a bit.
“Fuck!”, Zach exclaimed as his back collided into the snake statue.
Zach’s grip on the billhook tightened. He knew he was in some serious shit. He didn’t even think to check if Abe or Forrest had any guns on them. He was at a severe disadvantage with only a melee ranged weapon in his possession. If he stuck around here any longer, he’d likely perish.
Zach got up again, ready to make his next move.
Forrest was being torn in pieces in front of Abe, screaming for help, but he didn’t move a single inch, well, he moved maybe like, centimeters, nanometers, whatever the fuck the smallest possible meter is, because he was shaking, and that was the problem, because he wasn’t exactly a dead-eye noscope marksman at the best of times, and Forrest was still too close, but if she stayed close to that hook for long enough she’d go very far away, metaphorically speaking, so if it was all the same either way, better to pull the trigger and hope for the best, right?
Zach, that was his name, the little bastard, Zach, why was he remembering this now, it didn’t matter, because after all this was said and done he’d scratch that name out of his brain and scribble ‘my ticket home’ on his grave with a sharpie. He flicked the safety off, he’d forgotten to do that earlier, real embarrassing, but good thing he remembered, because then Forrest whacked Zach and made an opening, attagirl, and Abe held his breath and aimed-
He was pointing the gun at Forrest.
Zach had grabbed her when she was off-balance. Swung her in front of him.
Abe’s finger was already squeezing the trigger. Too late to take it back. Rat-a-tat-tat.
Zach, that was his name, the little bastard, Zach, why was he remembering this now, it didn’t matter, because after all this was said and done he’d scratch that name out of his brain and scribble ‘my ticket home’ on his grave with a sharpie. He flicked the safety off, he’d forgotten to do that earlier, real embarrassing, but good thing he remembered, because then Forrest whacked Zach and made an opening, attagirl, and Abe held his breath and aimed-
He was pointing the gun at Forrest.
Zach had grabbed her when she was off-balance. Swung her in front of him.
Abe’s finger was already squeezing the trigger. Too late to take it back. Rat-a-tat-tat.
Her cast smashed into Zach's face with a satisfying thud, sending him reeling back. Maybe there was a chance she'd be able to get away with it. Another deft escape that she'd somehow manage to pull out of the bag. Forrest turned to run but found herself stumbling to her knees as the wounds Zach had inflicted on her and the blood loss combined to take their toll.
In front of her, Abe was aiming at them. There was still hope he shot Zach, or at least did something. Forrest stood back up and tried to rush forward. But she felt Zach grab the collar of her vest.
Then Abe pulled the trigger.
At first, she felt relief. He'd done it. He'd got the courage to shot and in the process, he'd saved her.
At least she thought so. But then she felt a pain in her chest and looked down to see a bullet hole, blood slowly spreading out from it.
Well fuck.
Abe had shot her.
If she'd had any air left in her body to scream she would have. Instead, all she could do was fall backward into the snake statue, bouncing off it and to the ground.
Her eyes never left Abe.
He'd shot her.
In front of her, Abe was aiming at them. There was still hope he shot Zach, or at least did something. Forrest stood back up and tried to rush forward. But she felt Zach grab the collar of her vest.
Then Abe pulled the trigger.
At first, she felt relief. He'd done it. He'd got the courage to shot and in the process, he'd saved her.
At least she thought so. But then she felt a pain in her chest and looked down to see a bullet hole, blood slowly spreading out from it.
Well fuck.
Abe had shot her.
If she'd had any air left in her body to scream she would have. Instead, all she could do was fall backward into the snake statue, bouncing off it and to the ground.
Her eyes never left Abe.
He'd shot her.
As Zach was about to run for it, he noticed Abe aiming at him.
Shit! Do something quick!
He then noticed Forrest tumbling a bit in front of him. With quick thinking, Zach grabbed the collar of Forrest’s vest and tugged her in front of him.
There was a shot. Abe had fired. Did Zach get hit?
Forrest felt heavy all of a sudden. Zach let go and stepped aside, watching Forrest fall backwards onto the snake statue, and then onto the ground.
Run numbnuts!
Without even taking in what just happened, Zach grabbed his bag and ran as fast as he could.
(Zachary Beck, continued elsewhere...)
Shit! Do something quick!
He then noticed Forrest tumbling a bit in front of him. With quick thinking, Zach grabbed the collar of Forrest’s vest and tugged her in front of him.
There was a shot. Abe had fired. Did Zach get hit?
Forrest felt heavy all of a sudden. Zach let go and stepped aside, watching Forrest fall backwards onto the snake statue, and then onto the ground.
Run numbnuts!
Without even taking in what just happened, Zach grabbed his bag and ran as fast as he could.
(Zachary Beck, continued elsewhere...)
Forrest on the ground. Zach still standing.
Abe made a pathetic noise, somewhere between a whine and a scream. His eyes were blurring. He staggered forward, gun still raised, now swaying wildly in his hands, and he opened his mouth to scream something inane like ‘I’m going to fucking kill you’, but the only thing that came out was indecipherable anguish, but that was fine, because the only thing that came out of his gun was more bullets, but that wasn’t fine, because Zach was already gone and he was barely even aiming.
Zach was gone. Zach was getting away. He couldn’t fucking get away with this.
Abe sprinted after him, eyes straight forward, not looking to the sides, at the consequences of his actions, and he could hear the pitter-patter of that little fucker’s feet ahead of him, the panicked crunching of sticks and pinecones, and he chased him for a solid ten seconds before his foot got caught in some roots and he faceplanted, gun clattering away from him, and if the universe was just or at least had a sense of humor it would’ve gone off right then and there and shot him in the head, but, that didn’t happen.
He lay there, face down in the dirt. Zach was getting away. Abe didn’t move.
Abe stayed there in the dirt until he remembered that his bags were still back there, in the clearing. His food was still back there, his extra ammo, all his shit, anyone could just come along and take it while he was gone.
And. Forrest. Forrest was still back there. Forrest was still bleeding. Alone.
He’d calculated the losses like a fucking big boy, hadn’t he, so proud, like, oh shit, man, if I do nothing she’s gonna die anyway, so what does it matter, haha, gotta take your chance to blow, y’know, bang bang gang gang, get your one, well he got his one, and the lil’ bush mouse hadn’t even gotten her one, had she, she went through all the trouble of killing someone but she didn’t even have a ticket home, and that served her right, that proved his point, because he wasn’t a fucking bush mouse, he was the king rat rat king, all hail, haha.
Abe slowly got up, snivelling, and he wiped all that shitty coincidental moisture away from his eyes, what a time for that to crop up, hahaha. Got his gun. Turned back towards the clearing.
Forrest was going to die. Maybe not now. Maybe she could get a little better, if he used all his bandages and a miracle happened, maybe she could hang on through the night, even with her skin torn to ribbons and a bullet in her gut, and maybe that was the right thing to do, to let her stay for as long as possible, even if it wasn’t as long as she wanted, because everyone deserved a chance to see the stars one last time, right?
But he couldn’t. Axel took days to die and Abe stayed the whole time and watched him and loved him and kissed him and he died not remembering anything, he died pathetic, broken, like a fuckin’ sad old man in a nursery home who was asking when his parents were coming to see him, and he couldn’t ever go through that again. Not with anyone.
He couldn’t let her say anything, because if she begged him to stay, to help her, to save her, that’d be it, he wouldn’t be able to end it cleanly, and he’d have to stay by her side and sing to her on her deathbed and hold her hand and feel it go limp in his.
He wasn’t strong enough, so he had to take all of his strength and concentrate it into a few seconds, and then he’d never need to be strong again.
Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Don’t listen to anything. Don’t look at anything. You know what you need to do.
Abe made a pathetic noise, somewhere between a whine and a scream. His eyes were blurring. He staggered forward, gun still raised, now swaying wildly in his hands, and he opened his mouth to scream something inane like ‘I’m going to fucking kill you’, but the only thing that came out was indecipherable anguish, but that was fine, because the only thing that came out of his gun was more bullets, but that wasn’t fine, because Zach was already gone and he was barely even aiming.
Zach was gone. Zach was getting away. He couldn’t fucking get away with this.
Abe sprinted after him, eyes straight forward, not looking to the sides, at the consequences of his actions, and he could hear the pitter-patter of that little fucker’s feet ahead of him, the panicked crunching of sticks and pinecones, and he chased him for a solid ten seconds before his foot got caught in some roots and he faceplanted, gun clattering away from him, and if the universe was just or at least had a sense of humor it would’ve gone off right then and there and shot him in the head, but, that didn’t happen.
He lay there, face down in the dirt. Zach was getting away. Abe didn’t move.
Abe stayed there in the dirt until he remembered that his bags were still back there, in the clearing. His food was still back there, his extra ammo, all his shit, anyone could just come along and take it while he was gone.
And. Forrest. Forrest was still back there. Forrest was still bleeding. Alone.
He’d calculated the losses like a fucking big boy, hadn’t he, so proud, like, oh shit, man, if I do nothing she’s gonna die anyway, so what does it matter, haha, gotta take your chance to blow, y’know, bang bang gang gang, get your one, well he got his one, and the lil’ bush mouse hadn’t even gotten her one, had she, she went through all the trouble of killing someone but she didn’t even have a ticket home, and that served her right, that proved his point, because he wasn’t a fucking bush mouse, he was the king rat rat king, all hail, haha.
Abe slowly got up, snivelling, and he wiped all that shitty coincidental moisture away from his eyes, what a time for that to crop up, hahaha. Got his gun. Turned back towards the clearing.
Forrest was going to die. Maybe not now. Maybe she could get a little better, if he used all his bandages and a miracle happened, maybe she could hang on through the night, even with her skin torn to ribbons and a bullet in her gut, and maybe that was the right thing to do, to let her stay for as long as possible, even if it wasn’t as long as she wanted, because everyone deserved a chance to see the stars one last time, right?
But he couldn’t. Axel took days to die and Abe stayed the whole time and watched him and loved him and kissed him and he died not remembering anything, he died pathetic, broken, like a fuckin’ sad old man in a nursery home who was asking when his parents were coming to see him, and he couldn’t ever go through that again. Not with anyone.
He couldn’t let her say anything, because if she begged him to stay, to help her, to save her, that’d be it, he wouldn’t be able to end it cleanly, and he’d have to stay by her side and sing to her on her deathbed and hold her hand and feel it go limp in his.
He wasn’t strong enough, so he had to take all of his strength and concentrate it into a few seconds, and then he’d never need to be strong again.
Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Don’t listen to anything. Don’t look at anything. You know what you need to do.
All things considering, the situation could have been worse. For a start, she wasn't dead. That was Forrest's main thought in between whines and sobs. Each time she dragged herself she could feel all the wounds that had been inflicted on her. It was painful to try and move, and it was made worse by the fact she only had one working arm. On that subject, her broken arm was also screaming at her because she'd hit Zach in the face with it, which she was sure had done more to hurt her than him.
Abe was gone. He'd run off after her assailant, which she appreciated, although it didn't change the fact he'd shot her. The bullet wound was also making breathing hard. Forrest put that down to the fact it was in her chest, so there was a chance it had caught her lung. Not the most upbeat thought. She reached a tree and managed to prop herself up against it and take stock of her situation. She had a gash in her shoulder that was so big she could see the bone, somewhere on her back was another large slash, her arm and part of her chest were cut up badly, a noticeable part of skin and muscle was hanging off her arm actually.
In short, not good.
It didn't feel very fair. After all the effort she had gone through to find Abe and the end result was that she got cut up by some random guy and then Abe shot her. In terms of her mental state that would have been killer. Aside from the fact she was starting to think she was going to die. That was overpowering her brains' attempt to breakdown due the level of pure fear she was feeling.
She didn't want to die. She wasn't resigned to it. She wasn't going to fucking embrace it. But, she didn't know what she could do. She was scared. She wanted Abe to come back. Her once white tanktop had become red and the blood from her various injuries was starting to run down her legs.
She wondered if Andy had felt the same way when he had died. Had he had to sit there and slowly bleed to death by himself? He hadn't deserved that if it was true. He hadn't deserved a lot of what had happened to him. Andy had been a good person and she had just selfish and wantonly fucked him over again and again. That was what she did she supposed. The joke was on her now though wasn't it, because her own boyfriend had shot her in the chest. She'd had the choice between Abe and Andy and she'd tried to have both and look where that had gotten her.
The people she most felt sorry for were her parents. Her dads hadn't deserved her as their daughter. They had deserved someone who would have gone on to be something. Who would have been able to repay their kindness and effort with more than just a failed career as a DJ or whatever the fuck she was going to end up being. They'd loved her more than anything and she hadn't deserved that.
She looked at her hands, coated in her own blood and screwed her eyes shut in an attempt to stop the tears that were flowing.
She was so fucking scared. She didn't want to die. She wanted Abe to come back. So she could tell him it was okay, and he could bandage her wounds and for a little while longer everything could be fine again.
Luckily for Forrest, the sound of approaching footsteps took her out of her spiral.
From where she was sat against the tree trunk Forrest's eyes lit up.
"Abe-"
Abe was gone. He'd run off after her assailant, which she appreciated, although it didn't change the fact he'd shot her. The bullet wound was also making breathing hard. Forrest put that down to the fact it was in her chest, so there was a chance it had caught her lung. Not the most upbeat thought. She reached a tree and managed to prop herself up against it and take stock of her situation. She had a gash in her shoulder that was so big she could see the bone, somewhere on her back was another large slash, her arm and part of her chest were cut up badly, a noticeable part of skin and muscle was hanging off her arm actually.
In short, not good.
It didn't feel very fair. After all the effort she had gone through to find Abe and the end result was that she got cut up by some random guy and then Abe shot her. In terms of her mental state that would have been killer. Aside from the fact she was starting to think she was going to die. That was overpowering her brains' attempt to breakdown due the level of pure fear she was feeling.
She didn't want to die. She wasn't resigned to it. She wasn't going to fucking embrace it. But, she didn't know what she could do. She was scared. She wanted Abe to come back. Her once white tanktop had become red and the blood from her various injuries was starting to run down her legs.
She wondered if Andy had felt the same way when he had died. Had he had to sit there and slowly bleed to death by himself? He hadn't deserved that if it was true. He hadn't deserved a lot of what had happened to him. Andy had been a good person and she had just selfish and wantonly fucked him over again and again. That was what she did she supposed. The joke was on her now though wasn't it, because her own boyfriend had shot her in the chest. She'd had the choice between Abe and Andy and she'd tried to have both and look where that had gotten her.
The people she most felt sorry for were her parents. Her dads hadn't deserved her as their daughter. They had deserved someone who would have gone on to be something. Who would have been able to repay their kindness and effort with more than just a failed career as a DJ or whatever the fuck she was going to end up being. They'd loved her more than anything and she hadn't deserved that.
She looked at her hands, coated in her own blood and screwed her eyes shut in an attempt to stop the tears that were flowing.
She was so fucking scared. She didn't want to die. She wanted Abe to come back. So she could tell him it was okay, and he could bandage her wounds and for a little while longer everything could be fine again.
Luckily for Forrest, the sound of approaching footsteps took her out of her spiral.
From where she was sat against the tree trunk Forrest's eyes lit up.
"Abe-"
Forrest called out for Abe, but he wasn't listening.
He aimed his gun, closed his eyes, and held the trigger down until it started clicking.
He aimed his gun, closed his eyes, and held the trigger down until it started clicking.
Forrest had just enough time to realise.
G022 - Forrest Quin: Deceased
48 Students Remain
48 Students Remain
Abe should’ve said ‘I love you.’ He should’ve said ‘I’m sorry.’ He should’ve said anything, but he didn’t, and it was too late to take anything back. He’d spend the rest of his life wondering what it was that Forrest was about to say. She died with his name on her lips.
He opened his eyes so he could see what he’d done. He should’ve looked away, but he was half-assed even in his commitment to saving himself from pain.
When he’d stolen his gun a hundred years ago it’d come with a little manual full of lots of fun trivia. The FN P90’s magazine could hold 50 rounds. It could fire 900 rounds a minute. In just a few seconds, it had riddled absolutely everything with bullets. Forrest, the ground, the tree behind her.
Forrest’s body wasn’t as bad as he feared, kind of, at least her torso, it was just a sea of red so he couldn’t really see any of the holes. But her face, he’d never see it again, never know what her expression had been, before it’d been irreparably reduced to bits of flesh and gore. Had she been happy to see him? That he’d come back for her? Did she hate him for shooting her in the first place? For not risking everything (no, not risking literally anything) to help her?
Her pulse. He should check her pulse, he thought, absurdly, because he’d done such a bad job of not killing her, maybe he’d done an equally bad job of killing her, and maybe she was alive somehow, just in excruciating pain, when it should’ve been quick, he wanted it to be quick, he had to be sure, even if it meant not running away from what he’d done for once in his life, not running away from the attempt he’d made to run away.
Reality seemed to be loose around the edges, the transition between where he was standing and kneeling down by her body taking either a hundred years or an instant, he wasn’t sure which, but he was kneeling down by her, and feeling her neck, he was pretty sure it was her neck, and it was wet and warm and she was dead, so, so obviously dead, he’d done it.
He’d done it. He’d shot his one. Congratulations. All he had to do was stay alive and he had a ticket home.
Congratulations he was soaked red, haha, Shinji Ikari looking at his hand ‘I’m so fucked up’ motherfucker except instead of a mysterious white substance it’s blood all over, seeping into his skin, into his soul, because he’d really fucked up now, hadn’t he, this was something no one could forgive, not even himself, and like, he didn’t really have much faith in anything, but if he did, he wouldn’t wanna compliment any cosmic grandpa that decided that it was totally cool for him and Forrest to go to the same place when they died, haha, like, c’mon, man, can you use your eyes? You saw what he just did, right? You know why he did it, right? Like, that shit just doesn’t fly, right?
There was a disconnect between his brain and his body, because his body was sending him a whole lotta signals with his eyes and the rough sensation of blood drying on his fingertips, he would’ve closed Forrest’s eyes but he wasn’t sure where they were anymore, so he settled from brushing her hair out of her face, and her hair was greasy and clumpy and he was just adding a touch of blood to the rainbow, so really, he shouldn’t have bothered. He’d started laughing hysterically at some point, barely realizing it, interrupted only by sudden choked sobs. He took her limp hands in his own.
The announcements were gonna tell everyone, and everyone would know, and no one would know that it was an accident, it started as an accident, but that didn’t really matter, because it didn’t end as one, there was intent somewhere in the process, and even at the beginning, he’d intended to fire his gun, he’d made the decision to kill, who was he to complain about who he’d actually hurt?
Hel had asked him what to tell Forrest if they saw her before he did. He should’ve said ‘run.’
Abe stayed there by Forrest’s side for an indeterminable amount of time, but night was falling, and he had a decision to make. Either he stayed there with his dead girlfriend for the rest of time and drowned in regret until someone put him out of his misery, or he moved the fuck on. Pretty easy, haha.
He’d finally stopped crying. On the bright side, he couldn’t possibly imagine feeling any worse, so next time he shot someone it’d probably be a little less traumatic. He hoped it’d be the little bastard, but he wasn’t picky. There wasn’t any reason to be afraid of firing first anymore. He’d already destroyed the last thing he had.
He went through her bags. He assumed they’d be empty, given how starved she’d looked, but there was a surprising amount of food. What a nice surprise. More for his stash. Rejoice, all hail the island bourgeois, king of big dick mountain.
((Ah, hell, it wasn’t funny anymore, was it.))
He opened his eyes so he could see what he’d done. He should’ve looked away, but he was half-assed even in his commitment to saving himself from pain.
When he’d stolen his gun a hundred years ago it’d come with a little manual full of lots of fun trivia. The FN P90’s magazine could hold 50 rounds. It could fire 900 rounds a minute. In just a few seconds, it had riddled absolutely everything with bullets. Forrest, the ground, the tree behind her.
Forrest’s body wasn’t as bad as he feared, kind of, at least her torso, it was just a sea of red so he couldn’t really see any of the holes. But her face, he’d never see it again, never know what her expression had been, before it’d been irreparably reduced to bits of flesh and gore. Had she been happy to see him? That he’d come back for her? Did she hate him for shooting her in the first place? For not risking everything (no, not risking literally anything) to help her?
Her pulse. He should check her pulse, he thought, absurdly, because he’d done such a bad job of not killing her, maybe he’d done an equally bad job of killing her, and maybe she was alive somehow, just in excruciating pain, when it should’ve been quick, he wanted it to be quick, he had to be sure, even if it meant not running away from what he’d done for once in his life, not running away from the attempt he’d made to run away.
Reality seemed to be loose around the edges, the transition between where he was standing and kneeling down by her body taking either a hundred years or an instant, he wasn’t sure which, but he was kneeling down by her, and feeling her neck, he was pretty sure it was her neck, and it was wet and warm and she was dead, so, so obviously dead, he’d done it.
He’d done it. He’d shot his one. Congratulations. All he had to do was stay alive and he had a ticket home.
Congratulations he was soaked red, haha, Shinji Ikari looking at his hand ‘I’m so fucked up’ motherfucker except instead of a mysterious white substance it’s blood all over, seeping into his skin, into his soul, because he’d really fucked up now, hadn’t he, this was something no one could forgive, not even himself, and like, he didn’t really have much faith in anything, but if he did, he wouldn’t wanna compliment any cosmic grandpa that decided that it was totally cool for him and Forrest to go to the same place when they died, haha, like, c’mon, man, can you use your eyes? You saw what he just did, right? You know why he did it, right? Like, that shit just doesn’t fly, right?
There was a disconnect between his brain and his body, because his body was sending him a whole lotta signals with his eyes and the rough sensation of blood drying on his fingertips, he would’ve closed Forrest’s eyes but he wasn’t sure where they were anymore, so he settled from brushing her hair out of her face, and her hair was greasy and clumpy and he was just adding a touch of blood to the rainbow, so really, he shouldn’t have bothered. He’d started laughing hysterically at some point, barely realizing it, interrupted only by sudden choked sobs. He took her limp hands in his own.
The announcements were gonna tell everyone, and everyone would know, and no one would know that it was an accident, it started as an accident, but that didn’t really matter, because it didn’t end as one, there was intent somewhere in the process, and even at the beginning, he’d intended to fire his gun, he’d made the decision to kill, who was he to complain about who he’d actually hurt?
Hel had asked him what to tell Forrest if they saw her before he did. He should’ve said ‘run.’
Abe stayed there by Forrest’s side for an indeterminable amount of time, but night was falling, and he had a decision to make. Either he stayed there with his dead girlfriend for the rest of time and drowned in regret until someone put him out of his misery, or he moved the fuck on. Pretty easy, haha.
He’d finally stopped crying. On the bright side, he couldn’t possibly imagine feeling any worse, so next time he shot someone it’d probably be a little less traumatic. He hoped it’d be the little bastard, but he wasn’t picky. There wasn’t any reason to be afraid of firing first anymore. He’d already destroyed the last thing he had.
He went through her bags. He assumed they’d be empty, given how starved she’d looked, but there was a surprising amount of food. What a nice surprise. More for his stash. Rejoice, all hail the island bourgeois, king of big dick mountain.
((Ah, hell, it wasn’t funny anymore, was it.))