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[JamesRenard†]

((Garry Villette continued from House Made of Sticks))

It had been about twenty-four hours since Garry and Sunil departed the burned ruins of the sawmill. A twenty-four hours that had seemed to stretch on into infinity. They'd heard the amplified voices of the rescuers, and so they'd made their way to the nearest beach post haste, which happened to be the one situated on the north side of the island. But they were too late. The promised boats weren't there. All that greeted them were a few dead bodies and some craters that had been blasted in the sand.

All hope hadn't gone yet though. There was more than one beach, so they'd tried their luck at the other stretch on the east side, but that too was devoid of any transportation away from the hell-hole they were currently residing in. Garry and Sunil had literally missed the boat, their chances of escape dashed to pieces like, well, a boat on a rock. Garry had been so close to breaking down again, having been so hopeful of rescue and then having that hope snatched away at the last second. He could only hope that Saul had managed to find the boats and get on board to safety.

After trekking through the night, the pair needed a place to rest, and that was how they had ended up taking cover inside the bait shop by the docks. It stank of rotting fish, something that Garry was having a hard time getting used to. Many times during the night he had to head outside just for a breath of relatively fresh and clean air.

After spending the night up (and forcing himself not to gag from the stench), paintball gun trained on the door and listening for any possible intruders, the morning announcements started up. Garry had to admit he caught off guard when it was someone else speaking over the tannoy system instead of Danya. Not that there was a problem with that, he'd been getting increasingly sick of hearing Danya's voice while he gloated over the deaths of his friends and classmates.

And then came the sucker punch. The escape attempt had, according to the new guy, been thwarted. And by thwarted, everyone who'd taken part in it had died. And he had to listen to each and every name as they were rattled off, one by one. Garry couldn't even begin to imagine what they'd gone through, ever so close to freedom and then just being picked off. Garry sighed loudly in dismay when he heard that Allen and Isabel, two people from his biology class, had been killed in the attempt.

But, miraculously, Saul hadn't. His name wasn't read out, he was still alive.

Garry didn't know how to feel. On the one hand, Saul had missed out on the rescue mission and was still alive. On the other, he was still on the island and was still faced with the prospect of an imminent death. Garry turned to Sunil, who'd been sleeping as best he could on the floor while he stood guard. "What do you say, Sunil? Do we move out of here now and look for Saul, or wait here a while longer?" he asked, looking through the grubby windows for any signs of other students heading their way.

----

Some several yards down the beach, and just out of Garry's field of vision, a student trudged out onto the sand. Thoroughly tired from scouring the northern part of the island for his friend, not to mention also from dragging a hefty sledgehammer around with him, he felt like he was about to collapse. And so he did, hastily sitting down on the sand with a thump.

He was feeling more and more miserable with each passing second. His feet ached like there was no tomorrow (a fate, he remembered, that was all too likely) and he still hadn't found who he was looking for, even though it seemed like he'd searched the entire island. Laying back in the sand, he exhaled deeply and mumbled a few words.

"Where are you, Garry?"

((Saul Fetteralf continued from The Cavalry Arrives))

[General Goose]

((Sunil Savarkar continued from A House Made of Sticks))

To say missing the rescue boats was a disappointment would be an understatement, to say the least.

More accurate terms for it include "proof God hates me", "what the fuck can't I have one fucking good thing happen to me" and "shitjuggling cockfucking pussy-monkey", all terms Sunil used sooner or later. Garry did not share Sunil's use of such colourful language, but the inner frustration and depression was still there.

Sunil had been so...elated, that was a good word, to learn his cynicism and pessimism had been for naught. It was late, granted, too late for a vast majority of the kids on the trip, and there was always the possibility it was a trap or the North Korean army or something, but he put aside that lack of faith and instead, along with Garry, devoted his efforts into finding the boats and finally getting off this fucking hellhole of an island.

Yep, he could feel the warmth of his nice, plush bed already...

But, y'know, maybe they searched too hard. Maybe the boats were filled up with all the killers wearing disguises and the boats left ahead of schedule.

Maybe the people running the boats were just fucking douchebags, or somehow a figment of the imagination of both boys.

Or maybe Sunil and Garry were both just unlucky bastards.

Regardless of why they missed the boats, the point was that they had. They were unlucky, they were both going to die, and, for Sunil at least, this cloud had no silver lining.

And so, with any remaining joy, optimism or enthusiasm sucked out of him, Sunil just trudged along with Garry, with conversation between the two at an all-time low and any attempts at conversation or long-term planning quickly collapsing. Unlike Garry, who had that Saul guy on his mind (he better be a fucking great guy, the way Garry's bending over backwards for him), Sunil had no objective other than to try and get by as well as he could until his inevitable death.

Sunil had finally got one of the cans open by smashing it against a jagged rock at just the right angle. Some cold, low-quality rice and beans were hardly a filling or satisfying meal, but it was good that they knew the cans actually could be opened. After finishing up their meal (it was a bit hard to swallow, but beggars cannot be choosers), they'd spent the night inside what appeared to be a bait shop. Sunil shared one interest with his sister, just one; they both loved abandoned buildings. Something about them was just...morbidly interesting.

But, despite his semi-interest in the story of the bait shop, he wasn't really happy about spending the night there, particularly with the smell of fish lurking in the air. Before nodding off, Sunil, like Garry, had to wander out for some fresh air. And once he nodded off, he had an uncomfortable sleep.

After awakening, Sunil was disappointed and saddened, but not surprised, to hear that the escape attempt, while genuine, had supposedly been a complete and utter shambles that was thwarted by Danya's men.

Speaking of, Danya's unscheduled leave of absence did little to trouble Sunil, as he had bigger things to worry about than the fate of some deranged, psychopathic fat fuck who was responsible for this particular fuck-up in the first place.

Garry asked him a question.

Unlike Sunil, whose lack of care was steadily going into a downward spiral and showed no signs of recovery, Garry was still worried about Saul, and Sunil guessed that Garry wanted to be with his best mate one more time before they all died.

Which was pretty nice.

No, that wasn't sarcastic.

"I dunno, mate." Sunil said, climbing to his feet (damnit, he'd sat on some moist damp surface. Icky) and stretching his aching limbs. "I personally say wait just a teeny bit longer, just a teeny bit, then we get moving. But, for now, I'm gonna go get some fresh air."

And without another word, Sunil left the bait shop, his sleepy eyes aimed firmly at the ground, until he was standing on the edge of the docks.

[Namira]

((Kris continued from The Ballad of Ackbar))

Hearing the megaphone blast that there were boats arriving to rescue them tasted like bitter ashes. It didn't matter if those that had tried to escape were dead now, not to Kris. It was the principle, not the result... If she hadn't been so cowardly, if she'd been stronger, she might have... there might have been some way to... But... Kris had known this from the beginning. Realised it the second she'd pulled the trigger on Reika. Panic, yes, but feral instinct, too. Primal urges, telling her that it was about survival.

And Kris wasn't a strong enough person to say no, not to that.

Too late for her. Too late for salvation.

Damned, lost... dead.

Staggering like a walking corpse, Kris stumbled through the undergrowth, eyes unfocused, her attentions turned inward. There was nothing left. No chance of redemption, no Etain, not even a shred of morality. She'd cast that aside with the boy back at the hall of mirrors. Roland Hayes, she was told. Just another name to add to her butcher's bill.

Callous...

Something flickered in Kris's bloodshot eyes, and her slumping head abruptly snapped up to attention. Her shoulders squared a little, and she peered into the distance. A shack. Beyond it, the sea.

The grenade launcher, clapsed tightly in one fist, was suddenly up and primed against her shoulder. The thought hadn't even crossed her mind.

A figure left the shack. Kris watched them go, almost fascinated. Then, she took a step forward.

Then another.

Then another.

Killer...

Bloody hands...

...

Only way.

The person on the dock was more distinct now - Kris could make them, him out a lot more clearly.

It gave her an open shot.

There was a long pause as she stood there, weapon at her shoulder, aiming. She stood frozen in place, almost like a statue, if statues trembled from head to toe. There were no accidents any longer. Not now. How could she just... end somebody like this?

Clicked button. Explosion. No difference.

She could because...

Cold

blooded

killer

Kris shuddered from head to toe, eyes unfocused. Even so, she squeezed the trigger, the motion almost tender.

The grenade shot out with a thunk.

Whizzed towards Sunil.

[JamesRenard†]

'Some fresh air, sure could do with some," Garry considered. It had been a while since he last stepped outside, when it was only just starting to get light, he recalled. The fresh salty smell of the ocean beat the foul stench of decaying fish, paws down. Not to mention the calming effect the sea seemed to have.

Unless, of course, you were hurtling into it at goodness knows how many miles an hour after being pushed from the top of a cliff.

Garry shuddered at the memory. He'd been so close to dying, and it was by sheer chance that he managed to survive that ordeal. It may have hurt like a bitch when he slammed into the water at speed, but Garry would take bruised ribs over death any day.

Fucking Clio, she was such a psychopathic bitch. But fortunately for him, and presumably a lot of others as well, someone had taken her out. 'That's one killer out of the picture, but there're still plenty more out there,' Garry contemplated, wondering what his and Sunil's next course of action should be later on. Finding Saul was top priority, and if they found him alive and safe, well that would be excellent news all round.

But it was what would happen after that, that was what was getting Garry thinking. He, Sunil and Saul had to be inside the final hundred or so students by now, which was constantly being whittled away as he thought. As more of their fellow classmates got killed off, it was inevitable that at some point, he and Sunil were going to run into someone with several kills to their name. And what were they supposed to do then? Just beg for mercy while their assailant mercilessly gunned them down? Try and escape and get a bullet in the back of their heads for their trouble? No, that wasn't going to work.

Garry glanced at the paintball gun resting in his hands. The same hands that had thrown Jake to the ground and killed him.

He'd killed before, but it had been an accident. He couldn't find it in himself to willingly take someone's life. Sure, he'd nearly strangled Clio, but he'd been in such a rage over Luke's senseless murder that he wasn't even thinking straight. He'd managed to regain his senses and stopped himself from killing the girl. But then that had ended with him being thrown off the cliff and being left for dead. 'So what am I supposed to do? Do I have to start... killing...?'

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. No. He wasn't like Clio, or Maxwell, or anyone else racking up a high body count, that he was sure of. 'Okay, just go outside with Sunil, try not to think about it,' he commanded himself, heading to the door to join Sunil, intending to enjoy the gentle breeze billowing off the ocean and listen to the waves splashing against the docks.

Garry paused in mid-step when he heard a noise distinctly different to the waves outside. It sounded like a 'thunk', a new noise and one he hadn't heard in the area at all since they'd arrived in the middle of the night. The only noises he'd heard had been said waves lapping against the boards, the flies buzzing around the rotting fish and Sunil's intermittent snoring. But the sound he'd just heard, it was different, seemed mechanical. It took a couple of seconds for it to click in his head.

'Was that someone's weapon?'

Garry's grip on the paintball gun tightened, his knuckles turning white. "Sun-!" he began, about to alert his companion and tell him to be on his guard, ready to drag him back into the hut for his own safety if things quickly went downhill.

But he didn't even get round to finishing his companion's name.

----

Saul catapulted into a sitting position at the sound of the explosion.

'Holy shit, what the fuck was-that was close!' he thought in alarm. He jumped to his feet, abandoning his bag and weaponry and sprinted out onto the beach. He looked towards the source of the loud noise and gawped, so engrossed on the scene at the bait shop that he didn't even pay any attention to the body of Phillip Ward some several yards away from him.

"Holy fuck," was all he could say as he stared in horror.

[General Goose]

Sunil had never really understood why everyone made such a fuss about fresh sea air.

He never really liked the smells and sounds of being by the seaside, never understood all that fuss about "ozone" or whatever unscientific bullshit and supposed health benefits his mother always rambled on about. He never really enjoyed visits to the beach that much; swimming was something he could do in any public swimming pool, minus the risk of accidentally stepping on a jellyfish or swallowing salt water. There was still the risk of swallowing swimming pool water, but Sunil always had a guilty pleasure for the smell and taste of chlorinated swimming pool water. Probably something wrong with him.

But, eh. Something about this sea was nicer than the oceans in Rhode Island and Massachusetts (his family's favoured holiday destinations). Maybe it was because it was less polluted or something.

Still, Sunil found it relaxing. For just a minute or so, Sunil was able to stop fretting about his survival or his impending death, and just stared into the waters for a moment. He didn't know why, maybe his standards for relaxation had plummeted over the past few days, but he found it relaxing beyond belief.



He heard the "plunk" that signalled Kris's weapon firing, but didn't really give it much thought.

He just about heard Garry calling out his name, but didn't have time to turn around or react to it in any way.

The grenade missed Sunil. Landed just a tiny distance away from him, on the docks.

Sunil did notice the massive explosion tearing apart the wooden structure right behind him.

He just didn't have time to react to it.



If the force of the explosion hadn't of killed him almost instantly, Sunil's chances still did not look good. His legs had bore the brunt of the blast. They'd been blown clean off, leaving nothing but bloodied, gory stumps behind. As the force of the blast propelled what remained of his body into the salty sea that until recently Sunil had been rather uncharacteristically admiring, he would have been in too much pain and bleeding too heavily to do anything, and the only question would have been whether he would have succumbed to his wounds or drowned first.

The quick death he received also meant he did not notice the sharp pieces of shrapnel from the docks that were flying through the air in response to the blast, many of which tore through his body, and further mutilated his face, torso and arms.

But, luckily for Sunil, he'd avoided all that. Kris, God, fate, whatever, had been somewhat merciful to him. He'd been given a quick, near instant death. The blast had been far enough to not completely destroy his body, but close enough to kill him almost immediately with the force and strength of the blast.

And by the time the remnants of Sunil's bloody body landed into the sea, he was long dead.

B031 - Sunil Savarkar: Deceased.

[JamesRenard†]

Time seemed to slow down to a crawl for Garry as the incendiary sphere fell from out of seemingly nowhere. His voice was caught in his throat. He wanted to scream out, wanted to run out and grab Sunil, push him out of the way to safety.

But his body wouldn't, couldn't, move fast enough. In reality there was no time for any of that, not even enough time for him to blink.

The grenade landed right behind Sunil, bouncing once on the wooden surface. And then it exploded.

The flames from the explosion temporarily blinded Garry, and the shock wave pushed him into the door frame, knocking the air out of his lungs. He fell to the ground and scrambled behind the wall as pieces of metal shrapnel and wood fragments flew through the air in all directions, pattering against the side of the shack.

His ears rang, a continuous, aggravating, high-pitched noise that wouldn't stop buzzing. He panted for breath while his heart pounded in his chest. Only one thought raced through his mind, however. 'Sunil!'

He sat in the near-darkness for a short while, perhaps an hour or even longer, trying to calm himself down. His mouth had dried out from the heavy breathing through his mouth, making him feel like he was about to throw up any time soon. He swallowed, or attempted to. He couldn't hear anyone outside over the ringing in his ears, which was both a good and bad thing. He couldn't hear whoever had attempted to kill them. But on the flip-side, he couldn't hear Sunil, which only fueled Garry's dread about his fate.

Bravely, he got to his feet and wandered outside.

When he saw what had happened to the docks, he actually did throw up.

The place where Sunil had been standing was reduced to driftwood floating in the water, with a few of the dryer parts of the dock smoldering and smoking. Garry tentatively stepped over the puddle of vomit and bile, treading on planks, and noticed something that caused his heart to leap up into his burning throat.

A bloodied hand was sticking out from beneath a large pile of debris, pieces of splintered and twisted wood that had been tossed up by the power of the explosion. Garry sprinted over and feverishly clawed through the broken planks, ignoring the splinters digging into his palms.

He moved a hefty piece of wood and freed Sunil's hand.

Too bad there were no other body parts attached to it.

----

Saul heard the scream from where he stood on the sand. He was half-tempted to run from the carnage the grenade had inflicted, but there had been something about that voice, so full of fear and anguish. He thought he recognized it.

No, scratch that, he did recognize it. 'No... no way... it can't be...'

"Garry?! Is that you?!" he cried out, running over towards what remained of the docks.

[Namira]

Kris saw the targetboy get caught in the blast radius of the explosion.

Bile climbing into her throat, she whirled around and fled in the opposite direction.

She didn't look back.

The aftermath was vivid in her mind without even seeing it.

((Kris continued in Burn On))

[Ciel†]

(Kitty Gittschall continued from Deep Warm Drunk)

She had heard the announcement. Crystal clear.

Kitty Gittschall swelled with pride. There was a pinch of nervousness added in there, but that was to be expected. After all, being called out on the announcements was just bound to get her more attention, attention that she didn't need. Her plan was to go unnoticed, but once they told her that she had won a Best Kill award (a tie of course, but Kitty brushed the thought aside). She felt proud, like she was truly on the right track. Perhaps her passion in life wasn't art. Maybe it was killing people. Murder as art. She could see it catching on.

And then there was the escape.

That part made Kitty grin.

Did you hear that boyscout? Even if you were still alive, escaping was pointless. Are you hearing this, boyscout? Kitty hoped that he could hear every single name on that list. There must be a tv set in hell.

Yes. A tv set. So Roland could see how she was going to kill everyone thanks to him. Oh, the boyscout must be sobbing over the many lives he's helped to ruin. Pathetic worm. Only reason she never killed him was because she had a banged up arm. Otherwise she would have blindsided him.

Or perhaps this was for the better. Surely she had a better chance of winning now that she waited until the riffraff choked.

Kitty's thoughts were broken by a loud, obnoxious scream. It did not take her long to find the source. She didn't reveal herself yet. After all, there were two people at the end of what used to be a dock. It certainly had not stopped her from killing someone before, but Kitty was going to try to be careful. She needed to find the right time.

And so Kitty waited.

[JamesRenard†]

Garry had immediately jumped up and rapidly backed away from the gruesome find, pressing his body up against the wall of the bait shop. He breathed quickly and shallowly, the only thing stopping him from throwing up again was the fact he had literally nothing in his stomach to bring up.

But he just couldn't wrap his head around it. Sunil... was dead, gone. One moment he was standing out there, the next he'd been blown up. Sunil wasn't just dead, he'd been totally obliterated, reduced to nothing but a hand. Like that storyline in that Harry Potter book with the werewolf, where that character had been blown to bits by Sirius and all that remained of him was a finger.

Okay, sure, it turned out he was alive in the end, but then he actually hadn't been in caught up in the explosion and had faked his death. There wasn't a good chance that Sunil had faked his death, and with a hand missing, he probably wouldn't survive for long anyway.

Garry's knees gave way and he slid down the side of the shop, and without warning he started to sob hysterically. 'I'm cursed, I have to be,' he thought, resting his head on his knuckles. Anyone who he joined up with just went on to die. Cyrille, stabbed almost immediately after they separated. Miranda, killed a few days after they separated. Luke, murdered almost as soon as he met him. Rena and Dustin, both killed soon after splitting up with him and Sunil. And now Sunil himself had joined the list of the dead. The curse of the werewolf/Grim had struck again, it seemed. In fact, there was only one person who was still alive, and that was-

"Garry?! Is that you?!"

Garry's ears immediately pricked up upon hearing the person calling out his name. He looked up past the remains of the dock and through the thin veil of smoke at the outline of the person approaching. 'No... no way... it can't be...' he thought in absolute disbelief. That voice, he could recognize it anywhere, and as the figure got closer, he could see him more clearly through the haze. 'Oh my God... it... it is him!'

Garry leaped to his feet and started to run towards the person. He emerged from the smoke and could see him clearer than ever.

It was no trick of the eye, a mirage or a hallucination. It really was Saul.

"Saul!" he cried out, running towards his friend on the sand. It was unbelievable, it just seemed too good to be true, but there he was. He'd found him. After so many days of searching, he'd finally found his friend. So many days of fear, mental torture and death that he'd lost count of how much time had passed.

"Garry!" Saul cried back, having a hard time believing it as well. It really was him, and he didn't look to be badly hurt in that explosion. He never thought it would come to this. He didn't think he'd find him again, that someone would kill him before he could find him. Someone very nearly had, but they'd failed to get rid of the werewolf.

Garry put his arms out as the two of them got nearer, and as soon as Saul was close enough, he gave him the tightest hug imaginable. "Oh my god, Saul, you-you're alright," he spoke, very nearly crying. He held on to his buddy for a good few seconds longer, and then released him from the tight wolf-hug. "I thought..." He sniffed. "I thought I'd never see you again, Saul."

"So did I," Saul replied, on the verge of tears as well. "So did I."

[Ciel†]

Two boys sharing an embrace. This. Was going to be tricky.

Kitty wasn't too sure if attacking would be worth the trouble. She couldn't see any weapons on them. The one boy had been panicking earlier but for the life of her Kitty had no idea why. It didn't matter. Kitty didn't have the time or the inclination to be learning about a complete stranger, much less what he's been crying about. To her, these two boys were just another hurdle she had to overcome.

Kitty grinned. Hey, if she did a good job she might actually win another award. Wouldn't that be something?

She couldn't attack them now though. She was outnumbered. These was completely different circumstances from her last kill, where she had several advantages against two hugging rats. Passive little shits. Nothing to it. Here she had nothing. No leverage. What made it worse was that she really had no information to go on. She didn't know if they had guns, knives, anything! She certainly didn't know their names, and she definitely did not know whether they were killers. She couldn't just go out and start shooting because she didn't know what to expect! So she had to wait for an opening.

She dropped the half-used cigarette on the ground and crushed it. She curled back into the wood that she found herself hidden against.

This was going to be cake. All it needed was quick thinking and patience. And Kitty could be patient couldn't see? After all, she waited a week...

[JamesRenard†]

Saul's elation at finally finding his best friend quickly turned to concern when he took a good look at Garry's face. It was covered in yellow-brown bruises, badly scratched and scarred, and he had a bandage wrapped around his left temple, dried blood staining it through. "What the hell happened to you?" he asked. When he last saw Garry, all the way back on their first day, he'd been absolutely fine. No cuts, scrapes, bruises or bandages.

"It's... I'm just gonna say this. I've been to Hell and back, and I'm not even sure about the 'back' part," Garry replied, turning around and looking at the dock. Smoke still hung thinly in the air, dispersing with each passing second. He was lucky, oh so very lucky to not be caught in the blast. But Sunil wasn't. "My... my buddy... he died in that explosion..."

"What?!" Saul exclaimed, snapping round to face the blast zone. "S-someone died?!" he parroted, aghast.

"Sunil..." Garry softy answered. "He was caught up in it, someone threw a grenade or bomb or something at him. I didn't see who though, they're probably long gone now. The bastard... he didn't even do anything! He was just standing there, minding his own business, and someone just went and killed him!"

"Holy shit..." was all Saul could say. He'd been lucky enough to avoid witnessing any of the killings as they took place, but had seen the bodies, like Marco's and Max's.

Saul felt his stomach gurgling, and a slight jolt of pain suddenly shot through his abdomen. "Ouch..." he quietly moaned, rubbing the sore area with his hand.

"What-are you okay?" Garry asked, looking extremely concerned. "Are you hurt, did someone attack you earlier?"

"No, no..." Saul replied, shaking his head, looking towards the trees and grass bordering the beach. "I think I just need to be right back..." He paused for a second. "Uh, nature calls," he added on, turning to walk away towards the vegetation lining the sand, dragging the sledgehammer with him for protection.

"Oh... oh right," Garry said, quickly looking away from Saul to give him some privacy and glanced out towards the sea. 'Wait, when did Saul have a sledgehammer? I'll have to ask him, probably found it lying around like I found the paintball gun,' he thought.

[Ciel†]

The other boy wandered away. Kitty wasn't too sure why. She couldn't hear what hey were talking about. She hoped very much that he would die somewhere else, so she wouldn't have to worry about him. She was sure that wasn't going to happen though. Luck was on her side, but it wasn't going to just throw everything into her lap.

Such a shame. She'd have to waste a few bullets then.

The boy that was left was husky to say the least. She figured three, maybe four bullets would be enough. Maybe she would be able to get a headshot in and only waste one. She wasn't going to risk it though.

Kitty fired her gun and aimed for the boy's center.

[JamesRenard†]

((Discussed this with Ciel, if anything needs changing I can take it out))

Watching the waves was having a calming effect on Garry, and after what he'd just witnessed, he sure could do with it. The water lazily lapped against the damp sand, being dragged back out and then surging forward again. If there was no risk of having his head blasted off his shoulders, Garry would have felt like taking a brief swim, if only to clean himself up. Grime, grease, dirt and blood clung to his skin and hair like nobody's business. 'Eh, no reason why I can't just wade in knee-deep and wash,' he considered, taking some steps towards the water. If he could survive being thrown into water deeper than he was tall and not have his collar detonated, a brief paddle couldn't hurt, right?

And then, just a few meters ahead of Garry and to his right, a cloud of sand was thrown up into the air.

Garry only had time to instinctively blink before the deafening sound of a gunshot reached his ears. He immediately dived to the floor and covered his head with his hands, rolling round onto his back. It took about two seconds for him to put both the noise and the sand cloud together into 'ohcrapohcrapohcrap I'm being fucking shot at!'

He scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could, his hands and shoes digging into the soft sand though, which generally made life hard for him. He turned back and saw her, a girl with crazy blue hair emerging from the trees and brandishing a gun, no doubt the one which shot a bullet at him. 'God, why is this happening, just why the FUCK IS THIS HAPPENING?!' where the only thoughts that passed through his head.

He'd left his bag and paintball gun inside the bait shop, so naturally, it was the first place he thought of to run to. Plus, it was a place to hide, much better than being out in the open. 'I hope that crazy bitch didn't see Saul!' he prayed. Sunil had already died, he didn't want another friend biting the dust so soon afterward.

'Wait, waitwaitwait, was this girl the one who killed Sunil?!'

As he got close to the dock, Garry stumbled over a patch of uneven sand that threw him off kilter. He tried to regain his balance, but ultimately couldn't, and so he pitched forwards onto the sand with an "oof!". He spat out a mouthful of dry grains and pushed himself up.

Another brutally loud gunshot rang out over the beach, causing Garry to duck down once more with a muffled cry. There was no sudden sharp pain in any part of his body, no seeping blackness; he hadn't been hit to his relief. He quickly glanced behind to see the blue haired girl still on his tail. His right hand brushed against an object as he prepared to get back up, Garry seeing it was a sharp and splintery piece of wood, a broken piece of the dock that was thrown clear during the earlier grenade explosion. Despite it having next to no practical use against someone armed with a gun, he grabbed hold and picked it up anyway.

Garry hastily got back to his feet and thundered across the boards, diving into the dark bait shop. He didn't have much time before the girl reached his hiding place, and he couldn't find the frigging paintball gun in the gloom. 'Damnit! Where is it?!' he frantically thought, feverishly searching for it before giving up and ducking into the far corner of the building, knocking some boxes and a chair over as he did so. He held the makeshift stake tightly against his pounding chest.

[Ciel†]

... She missed.

She should have expected it, but why did it come as such a surprise? She was so certain that the bullet would land! The boy flew to the ground and Kitty winced.

Quick! He was trying to get away! God damn it Kitty, don't just stand there! Kill him!

Kitty pumped her legs, holding the gun tight. The boy was scrambling all over the sand and eventually he tripped. Now! Now was her chance! Kitty fired another round, aiming for his center. That bullet missed the target too and the husky flew into a run. Kitty's annoyance grew into anger. Perhaps she was overreacting, but running was this boy's first mistake. She's make sure the first bullet that hit didn't kill him. No, maybe she'd take the end of the gun and bash his face in. Asshole deserved it.

The second mistake he made was running into a building. Kitty grinned. Did he really just do that? Fucking idiot.

"This won't take long," she muttered.

Outside, it was dark. Not dark enough to blind you. The moon was out, lighting the path and everything that needed to be seen. That wasn't Kitty's problem. It was inside the bait shop. There were no windows to let the light in. No candles, no lamps. Complete, utter darkness.

Kitty stared into the door frame. The darkness was thick, and it made her wince.

This was silly. She couldn't let dreams dictate her, especially here. That one nightmare about being trapped in a tiny box always stuck around Kitty, gnawing at her from inside. At least she thought it was a dream. But dreams were for stupid people who were to meek to take life into their own hands. Kitty didn't need a flashlight. All she needed was her gun. The darkness wasn't going to keep her from.

The shaking started the moment she stepped through the door and immediately she wanted to run. She controlled herself, although she still shook in her shoes. She took a look around. She couldn't see him. Shit. Why the hell was she chasing after him for? It sounded like such a good idea at the time too!

The darkness was too hard to see. She kept the gun out in front of her. She sneered, giving the shop another look around.

"Come out come out wherever you are."

Behind the counter, under the racks. She checked every place. Her eyes adapted somewhat, but her sight didn't go all that far. She felt the air getting sucked out of the room and she was starting to gasp.

"I'll make sure you and your friend have a nice little reunion in hell. How's that?"

When she found this boy she was going to drag him out in front of a camera and bash his head in just so everyone could see what a rat he was. Just like she'll do to his asshole's friend, just like she'll do to everyone that fucked with her. God damn it where is he?!"

"... Hello!?"

A creak in the floor made Kitty jump. She gave herself a second, shivering to herself.

"O-Okay, enough screwing around! Stop hiding!"

Her eyes weren't adapting. She really wished she had taken out the flashlight. Fuck.

She turned the corner. She couldn't see him. Where was he? Was he gone? She couldn't see him.

She bumped into a table. She winced.

"God damn it..."

She pushed off the table. She kept her gun out.

He was gone. That was it. He was gone. She had lost. She should leave, now, before she wasted any more time.

She shivered. She felt like someone was watching her though. She couldn't shake the feeling.

Someone else was still in this room. She just couldn't tell where the hell She looked back towards the ajar refrigerator door. Turned to look at the back of the shop. Over to the counter.

A light wind. Something flew past her.

Kitty spun on her heel and fired her gun in a violent, uncontrollable rage. She pulled the trigger over and over, eyes closed, screaming at the top of her lungs. One. After. Another. Bullet. After. Bullet.

She stopped, laughing under her breath. Did she get him? Oh lord, she hoped she got him. Kitty opened her eyes.

It was only the door to the refrigerator. Nothing more.

"... what the hell?"

[JamesRenard†]

Garry had been hoping that he'd miraculously lost the girl by running inside, but all hopes of that were thrown out the door when he heard Kitty walk in through it. The floorboards creaked, and Garry was cursing his idiocy. He thought he could find his weapon, he could he could hide. But all he'd done was literally run himself into a corner with a piece of wood as his only means of defense.

'I'm doomed, I'm fucking doomed,' Garry desperately thought, his heart pounding at what seemed like 100 miles an hour and at 100 decibels with each beat. He could hear the girl getting closer and knocking stuff over as she searched. It was only a matter of time before she discovered him and finally put a bullet between his eyes. 'I'm going to die, she's going to find me and kill m-'

"I'll make sure you and your friend have a nice little reunion in hell. How's that?"

She... did not just say that.

'What-what the fuck did she just say?!' His friend, she was talking about Sunil. Sunil, who'd been blown to pieces by an explosion. Her explosion. She had killed him after all. She'd killed Sunil in cold fucking blood. Garry started to tremble and shudder as anger started to spread throughout his body, reminding him fully of the past events.

Explosion. Noise. Smoke. Blood everywhere. Sunil's hand, dismembered. Gunshots.

'You-you bitch, you killed Sunil, you fucking killed him and now you're trying to kill me, telling me he's gone to Hell? How could you. HOW COULD YOU. HOW COULD YOU KILL HIM?! HE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING TO YOU YOU MURDERER! I'M NOT GOING TO LET YOU GET AWAY WITH THAT!'

Something inside Garry snapped. Anger gave way to pure unbridled fury, and the girl was going to face it full on.

Without even thinking it through, Garry leaped up and charged towards the source of the noise. There were several bright flashes and deafening gunshots, but Garry was unharmed by the wildly misaimed shots. He was perfectly okay, but that was more than could be said for Kitty very shortly.

"You fucking bitch!" he roared, pulling his empty fist back and slamming it forward. His knuckles hit something solid, he was pretty sure it was the girl's head. Maybe he knocked her out or dazed her for a while. Good.

But he wasn't done with her yet. He looked ahead of him and noticed the rectangular black void that was the opening to the inactive refrigerator. He grabbed the girl and roughly shoved her forwards, pushing her into the cramped compartment and slamming the door behind her, trapping her inside.

"How do you like that, huh?!" Garry seethed, leaning his whole body weight against the door to stop her from getting out. "How's it feel being the one trapped? Not very nice, is it?!"

It appeared the hunter had now become the hunted.