Teo was amazed when Claire simply strolled past and walked off after announcing her intentions, but he was completely stunned when Julian delivered his monologue and strode off in a similar direction. These guy's surely didn't get it, he was playing nice and wasn't coming out guns blazing, but other people might be, and they just decide to walk off by themselves and not even look at the map. Not as bad as Marybeth was though. Turning to the girl he raised his crossbow again.
"You're nuts babe. Those guys weren't much better either. Don't come near me and nothing bad will happen ok?"
Turning to Nick he motioned with his bow at the hunga munga on the ground. "You can pick that up now if you want, just wanted to be sure you weren't going to charge me with it. I'm going to head to the town, see if anyone a little more sane is about. You're welcome to follow, just keep a few feet between us."
Teo stepped back a few steps and mentally reviewed the events. He'd have to keep an eye on both of the two who had just left. They seemed smart enough but if they weren't picked off by some gung-ho student soon he knew they would both be up to something bad and he'd have to be a little less accepting next time.
Taking another step Teo paused. "You know what, we should actually check the church for supplies, anything of note and anything that might help. I figured sooner or later we might come across someone who has a decent idea of how to end this game, one way or the other and when we do we should be prepared. I'm sure Claire has checked the majority of the parish but there might be something she missed."
Striding in to the woods momentarily Teo retrieved his duffel bag and flung it in to the church letting the crossbow fall to his side. His guard was relaxed someone as be began checking the pews but as long as Marybeth was around he wasn't about to let it completely down. He hoped Nick wouldn't do anything stupid; he had no qualms about protecting others until someone with a plan came along, but if push came to shove Teo knew he make sure he was the one coming out on top.
Resolve
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(Liz Polanski continued from Come And See)
Manually decapitating a body is hard, even with a knife. Tendons are a bitch to cut (who knew?) and the spine is not only a wiggly, inseparable bastard, but fairly unsettling to deal with. Liz had not played much attention in biology class, but with spines, it's fairly impossible to forget what you're sawing into. In the end, she kicked the vertebrae till they separated.
After the trouble with the head, Liz decided to forget any further dismemberment. It was hot out here, the sand near the parish church was unsafe (she had managed to drag the corpse about 30 feet before she collapsed--it turns out 90 pound girls cannot consistently carry 140 pound boys, even when the boy is dead and the girl has a good right shoulder) and she was covered in sticky, bloody sweat.
Before she left, though, she stripped him down to the underwear and stuffed his tatty bloody clothing into her backpack. Swallowing and thinking of forensic pathologists, she used her knife to open up his chest, stood up and kicked the ribs until they cracked and widened the cavity. Blood wasn't flowing anymore--dead boys don't have beating hearts--so it took a bit of effort to spread her face and legs with whatever fluid he had left. A tube of black lipstick accentuated the eyes and the mouth.
The goal was to look like a psychopath. Someone no one would ever come near. Liz Polanski, the goth girl, the person people were afraid of before some terrorists had put them on an island and ordered them to kill each other. Liz Polanski. Hideously capable. Murderously creative. Remorseless, hateful, lip-lickingly unhinged.
Because while she was pretty sure she could kill someone else on this island, there was no reason not to take precautions.
Someone had already taken the rucksack. No food or fresh water to scavenge off this corpse. An hour on this island and I'm already desecrating the dead.
She threw a handful of sand into his chest cavity.
Then another.
Then another.
It soaked up the spare blood.
She started pushing sand atop the body. It was nasty, gritty stuff. She tried to keep her legs clean. Kicking was more effective than tossing, it seemed.
It didn't take long to bury Chris Davidson.
After that, it was the work of ten minutes, several tries at whittling, and three pieces of driftwood (only two of which made it into the final construction) to make a cross. Liz drove it into the ground next to the mutilated corpse. The cormorants croaked. She looked sideways at them. No food for you.
The head she rolled in the dust and put into her beige rucksack.
Headache. She was losing focus. Needed a cigarette. She had a pack of Camels in her pocket, the mint menthol ones, but no lighter. Motherfucker. Nicotine withdrawal ahoy. She rubbed her temples, shook her head, cleared her vision, the buzzing in her ears. Holy shit, am I going into shock?
No, she wasn't. She could clear her head. Concentrate, Liz!
Extreme edginess. Paranoia. There were people chatting nearby. A noise behind her.
When she looked up, she cursed. Marybeth Witherspoon was standing in the parish sands.
Quietly, Liz Polanski strapped on both rucksacks, stood up, and took a rock into her hand.
I hope she realizes I'm covered in blood.
Manually decapitating a body is hard, even with a knife. Tendons are a bitch to cut (who knew?) and the spine is not only a wiggly, inseparable bastard, but fairly unsettling to deal with. Liz had not played much attention in biology class, but with spines, it's fairly impossible to forget what you're sawing into. In the end, she kicked the vertebrae till they separated.
After the trouble with the head, Liz decided to forget any further dismemberment. It was hot out here, the sand near the parish church was unsafe (she had managed to drag the corpse about 30 feet before she collapsed--it turns out 90 pound girls cannot consistently carry 140 pound boys, even when the boy is dead and the girl has a good right shoulder) and she was covered in sticky, bloody sweat.
Before she left, though, she stripped him down to the underwear and stuffed his tatty bloody clothing into her backpack. Swallowing and thinking of forensic pathologists, she used her knife to open up his chest, stood up and kicked the ribs until they cracked and widened the cavity. Blood wasn't flowing anymore--dead boys don't have beating hearts--so it took a bit of effort to spread her face and legs with whatever fluid he had left. A tube of black lipstick accentuated the eyes and the mouth.
The goal was to look like a psychopath. Someone no one would ever come near. Liz Polanski, the goth girl, the person people were afraid of before some terrorists had put them on an island and ordered them to kill each other. Liz Polanski. Hideously capable. Murderously creative. Remorseless, hateful, lip-lickingly unhinged.
Because while she was pretty sure she could kill someone else on this island, there was no reason not to take precautions.
Someone had already taken the rucksack. No food or fresh water to scavenge off this corpse. An hour on this island and I'm already desecrating the dead.
She threw a handful of sand into his chest cavity.
Then another.
Then another.
It soaked up the spare blood.
She started pushing sand atop the body. It was nasty, gritty stuff. She tried to keep her legs clean. Kicking was more effective than tossing, it seemed.
It didn't take long to bury Chris Davidson.
After that, it was the work of ten minutes, several tries at whittling, and three pieces of driftwood (only two of which made it into the final construction) to make a cross. Liz drove it into the ground next to the mutilated corpse. The cormorants croaked. She looked sideways at them. No food for you.
The head she rolled in the dust and put into her beige rucksack.
Headache. She was losing focus. Needed a cigarette. She had a pack of Camels in her pocket, the mint menthol ones, but no lighter. Motherfucker. Nicotine withdrawal ahoy. She rubbed her temples, shook her head, cleared her vision, the buzzing in her ears. Holy shit, am I going into shock?
No, she wasn't. She could clear her head. Concentrate, Liz!
Extreme edginess. Paranoia. There were people chatting nearby. A noise behind her.
When she looked up, she cursed. Marybeth Witherspoon was standing in the parish sands.
Quietly, Liz Polanski strapped on both rucksacks, stood up, and took a rock into her hand.
I hope she realizes I'm covered in blood.
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People were ignoring her again. People always were ignoring her and telling her off, at least when she wasn't being interesting enough. It was stupid. She couldn't be expected to have good sources or brilliant ideas for her rumors every day.
Here she was, trying to lighten up the mood, and people were still ignoring her.
Well, at least not everyone was ignoring her. Stuck-up bitchy Claire, Ren Faire asshole Teo, and even clumsy clueless Nick were barely giving her the time of day, but at least Julian was listening. Not only was he listening, he was playing along, spouting lines that would not have felt out of place in a soap opera or musical theater. Marybeth couldn't help but smile at how hammed up he was being. If Survival of the Fittest had more interesting folk like him, she might've been more into it. A guy that could spout eloquent and dramatic lines at the drop of a hat, and damn he could project his voice, walked up to her and delivered his bombshell quote.
Followed with a tender romantic gesture.
Marybeth was dumbstruck, or awestruck, or lovestruck, or something-struck. Julian Avery had just confessed his love for her and kissed her. Julian Avery. Loved her. Kissed her. Sure he was a joker, and wouldn't stoop down to playing with her heart, but that was more than she'd ever had before. Maybe he did mean it. But before she could give any meaningful response, he was running off, leaving a request to not be followed.
Of course, every good hero said that to the love interest. It was a quintessential hero thing. The only proper thing to do as the potential love interest was to follow. After he got a head start though. The chase was half the fun.
She turned her attention back to the remaining two at the door of the church. They had evidently decided to hole up inside the building for the time being. It was a boring position, but could be interesting if somebody decided to storm the gate. Nobody around to do it though....
Rustling of underbrush from nearby caught Marybeth's attention. Out stepped Liz Polanski, one of the quiet loner goth girls that Marybeth did not remember had even signed up for the trip. Marybeth could believe that a girl like her might actually get into the whole killing business. That Liz's arms, legs, and clothes were covered in blood was probably a good indicator of this. Marybeth smiled and waved at the other girl, but made no attempt to move closer. Blood didn't smell all that good.
"Lizzy!" she called out. When she was sure she'd caught Liz's attention, Marybeth lowered her voice so the boys inside the church couldn't hear. "There are some guys holed up in there," Marybeth said, while pointing at the nearby building. "I'm sure they wouldn't mind meeting a fine girl such as you. I'd love to stay and watch the fun, but I have a man to catch."
Marybeth took off in the direction that Julian had gone off in. It was sad that she couldn't stick around, but following the hero was of utmost importance to the story. Other things were just the side plots.
((Marybeth Witherspoon continued in Woods of Paranoia))
Here she was, trying to lighten up the mood, and people were still ignoring her.
Well, at least not everyone was ignoring her. Stuck-up bitchy Claire, Ren Faire asshole Teo, and even clumsy clueless Nick were barely giving her the time of day, but at least Julian was listening. Not only was he listening, he was playing along, spouting lines that would not have felt out of place in a soap opera or musical theater. Marybeth couldn't help but smile at how hammed up he was being. If Survival of the Fittest had more interesting folk like him, she might've been more into it. A guy that could spout eloquent and dramatic lines at the drop of a hat, and damn he could project his voice, walked up to her and delivered his bombshell quote.
Followed with a tender romantic gesture.
Marybeth was dumbstruck, or awestruck, or lovestruck, or something-struck. Julian Avery had just confessed his love for her and kissed her. Julian Avery. Loved her. Kissed her. Sure he was a joker, and wouldn't stoop down to playing with her heart, but that was more than she'd ever had before. Maybe he did mean it. But before she could give any meaningful response, he was running off, leaving a request to not be followed.
Of course, every good hero said that to the love interest. It was a quintessential hero thing. The only proper thing to do as the potential love interest was to follow. After he got a head start though. The chase was half the fun.
She turned her attention back to the remaining two at the door of the church. They had evidently decided to hole up inside the building for the time being. It was a boring position, but could be interesting if somebody decided to storm the gate. Nobody around to do it though....
Rustling of underbrush from nearby caught Marybeth's attention. Out stepped Liz Polanski, one of the quiet loner goth girls that Marybeth did not remember had even signed up for the trip. Marybeth could believe that a girl like her might actually get into the whole killing business. That Liz's arms, legs, and clothes were covered in blood was probably a good indicator of this. Marybeth smiled and waved at the other girl, but made no attempt to move closer. Blood didn't smell all that good.
"Lizzy!" she called out. When she was sure she'd caught Liz's attention, Marybeth lowered her voice so the boys inside the church couldn't hear. "There are some guys holed up in there," Marybeth said, while pointing at the nearby building. "I'm sure they wouldn't mind meeting a fine girl such as you. I'd love to stay and watch the fun, but I have a man to catch."
Marybeth took off in the direction that Julian had gone off in. It was sad that she couldn't stick around, but following the hero was of utmost importance to the story. Other things were just the side plots.
((Marybeth Witherspoon continued in Woods of Paranoia))
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Ruggahissy
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Nick clapped enthusiastically after the exit of Julian. He leaned down with his hands resting on his knees for a moment before picking his hunga munga back up off the floor.
Crazy Julian. Way to take one for the team, man. Good guy.
"I'm going to head to the town, see if anyone a little more sane is about. You're welcome to follow, just keep a few feet between us."
"Sure, man. Town seems like a good place to check out. You don't seem too hot on me....dunno why... but if you don't want to hang that's cool. We can split once we get there. We should be good until we get to town. I doubt anyone's gonna want to mess with two big guys like us with weapons. "
Nick threw the odd weapon over his shoulder and continued into the small church after Teo. Inside the parish he began looking for anything useful. In the cupboards he found a few bibles still lying around. He thumbed through one of the bibles. It's yellowed, crinkled pages yielded easily beneath his thick fingers and the smell of old library drifted up to combine into a comforting mélange. For a moment he closed his eyes and remembered the feeling of sitting in church on Sundays with his mom and dad and sister. He opened his eyes, gazed fondly at the book and gingerly put it, plus an extra bible, inside his bag. Nick dropped his bag for a moment and massaged his shoulder. He approached the pulpit; the floorboards creaked under the weight of his shuffled steps. He felt a little silly standing on that side of the podium in front of an invisible congregation. It didn't feel right. Nick began to walk away when he hit something under the pulpit. He pulled the object out and marveled at it like he had just come down for Christmas morning.
"Score! They left booze in here! Here. We'll drink to our health," he said with a smile, tossing the bottle to Teo.
An odd bit of movement from the window pulled his attention like a dog hearing a squeaky toy. Making sure he had his hunga munga, he opened the parish doors to check and see if there was anything outside. From the parish he could just make out a small girl about twenty feet off covered in....blood?
"You...uh...you got red on you....," he called out in his most helpful tone of voice.
Crazy Julian. Way to take one for the team, man. Good guy.
"I'm going to head to the town, see if anyone a little more sane is about. You're welcome to follow, just keep a few feet between us."
"Sure, man. Town seems like a good place to check out. You don't seem too hot on me....dunno why... but if you don't want to hang that's cool. We can split once we get there. We should be good until we get to town. I doubt anyone's gonna want to mess with two big guys like us with weapons. "
Nick threw the odd weapon over his shoulder and continued into the small church after Teo. Inside the parish he began looking for anything useful. In the cupboards he found a few bibles still lying around. He thumbed through one of the bibles. It's yellowed, crinkled pages yielded easily beneath his thick fingers and the smell of old library drifted up to combine into a comforting mélange. For a moment he closed his eyes and remembered the feeling of sitting in church on Sundays with his mom and dad and sister. He opened his eyes, gazed fondly at the book and gingerly put it, plus an extra bible, inside his bag. Nick dropped his bag for a moment and massaged his shoulder. He approached the pulpit; the floorboards creaked under the weight of his shuffled steps. He felt a little silly standing on that side of the podium in front of an invisible congregation. It didn't feel right. Nick began to walk away when he hit something under the pulpit. He pulled the object out and marveled at it like he had just come down for Christmas morning.
"Score! They left booze in here! Here. We'll drink to our health," he said with a smile, tossing the bottle to Teo.
An odd bit of movement from the window pulled his attention like a dog hearing a squeaky toy. Making sure he had his hunga munga, he opened the parish doors to check and see if there was anything outside. From the parish he could just make out a small girl about twenty feet off covered in....blood?
"You...uh...you got red on you....," he called out in his most helpful tone of voice.
"Hey man, I have no beef with you, just being smart about all this. Mistakes get people killed bro." Teo called back at Nick as he bent down under yet another pew. Dust and gum mostly, nothing of use. He really wasn't expecting much but he had hoped that Claire might of missed something that could help him. He didn't know what it could be but it helped to have something to do, even if it was just to keep a handle on the situation. With Both Claire and Julian gone from the Parish Teo felt a little more confident and in control.
As Nick called out again Teo looked up and caught the bottle. "Now that's what I'm talking about! See we get along just fine." Unscrewing the cap he took a quick swig of the bottle, letting the acrid taste of the alcohol pervade his mouth. He didn't drink any more though, he knew it wasn't a smart idea to be drunk in a strange location, let alone one filled with blood thirsty teenagers.
"You know," he said as he turned to face Nick once more, "I guess not everything can go wrong in one d..."
Teo trailed off as he caught sight of Liz standing outside the door in the sands watching Marybeth, bloody sack in one hand, rock clenched in the other. Mouth slightly ajar Teo's eyes flicked to the bottle for a second, staring quizzically at the brandy before shaking his head and returning back to the blood drenched girl before him.
He absolutely could not believe this. Things just got stranger and stranger and he wasn't quite sure that he was really awake. As Liz looked directly at him Teo was rocked back to his senses, the brandy dropping from his hand, forgotten and smashing against the floor with a crash, the sound echoing through the small building. In an instant Teo had whipped his crossbow back up to his shoulder and pointed it directly at the ghastly figure, moving up to take a cover position near the doorway to the parish.
"You're going be dropping that rock right now, and whatever the hell is in that sack. I'm not messing with you, you take one more step forward and I'm going to peg you with with a bolt and I guarantee you are not getting up from this one."
Teo was determined he wasn't going to be sweet talked or convinced otherwise this time around. Things had spiraled out of control within seconds last time he hesitated to follow through and he was intent on not making the same mistake twice. He had the girl aimed right down the sight and he was confident enough in his ability to drop her if needed. She didn't look like she had a gun, but covered in blood as she was, he wasn't taking any chances. If she moved, take her out, if he missed, close the distance and disarm her. Snap her neck if need be, there was little chance the 90 pound girl would be able to outrun or out muscle him.
Despite her small stature the blood running down her face had thrown Teo a little off. Usually calm and collected and very aware of what and how he was speaking Teo heard the tiniest edge of panic creep in to his voice.
"DO IT NOW!"
As Nick called out again Teo looked up and caught the bottle. "Now that's what I'm talking about! See we get along just fine." Unscrewing the cap he took a quick swig of the bottle, letting the acrid taste of the alcohol pervade his mouth. He didn't drink any more though, he knew it wasn't a smart idea to be drunk in a strange location, let alone one filled with blood thirsty teenagers.
"You know," he said as he turned to face Nick once more, "I guess not everything can go wrong in one d..."
Teo trailed off as he caught sight of Liz standing outside the door in the sands watching Marybeth, bloody sack in one hand, rock clenched in the other. Mouth slightly ajar Teo's eyes flicked to the bottle for a second, staring quizzically at the brandy before shaking his head and returning back to the blood drenched girl before him.
He absolutely could not believe this. Things just got stranger and stranger and he wasn't quite sure that he was really awake. As Liz looked directly at him Teo was rocked back to his senses, the brandy dropping from his hand, forgotten and smashing against the floor with a crash, the sound echoing through the small building. In an instant Teo had whipped his crossbow back up to his shoulder and pointed it directly at the ghastly figure, moving up to take a cover position near the doorway to the parish.
"You're going be dropping that rock right now, and whatever the hell is in that sack. I'm not messing with you, you take one more step forward and I'm going to peg you with with a bolt and I guarantee you are not getting up from this one."
Teo was determined he wasn't going to be sweet talked or convinced otherwise this time around. Things had spiraled out of control within seconds last time he hesitated to follow through and he was intent on not making the same mistake twice. He had the girl aimed right down the sight and he was confident enough in his ability to drop her if needed. She didn't look like she had a gun, but covered in blood as she was, he wasn't taking any chances. If she moved, take her out, if he missed, close the distance and disarm her. Snap her neck if need be, there was little chance the 90 pound girl would be able to outrun or out muscle him.
Despite her small stature the blood running down her face had thrown Teo a little off. Usually calm and collected and very aware of what and how he was speaking Teo heard the tiniest edge of panic creep in to his voice.
"DO IT NOW!"
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Liz got up and tried to move softly past the door.
Two boys in the church, hunh? It sounded like a nursery rhyme.
She moved past the door.
And Nick, in all his goofy happy hunga-munga-ness, chose that moment to open it up.
Motherfucking shit! Liz whirled, her arm cocked with the sharp stone.
"You...uh...you got red on you..." Nick sounded like a derp. He was Nick, after all. And he looked like he didn't know how to hold a hunga munga. Not that she did either.
But he wasn't killing her. That was a plus.
She began to back away.
"You're going be dropping that rock right now, and whatever the hell is in that sack. I'm not messing with you, you take one more step forward and I'm going to peg you with a bolt and I guarantee you are not getting up from this one."
Liz sighed inwardly. Because now, in the doorway, next to Nick, was Teo Weinstock. Pointing a loaded crossbow at her. Liz froze. A crossbow. That was a nasty weapon. Ranged. She couldn't fight it. And death from it would hurt.
"DO IT NOW!!!"
Panic in his voice.
Liz bit her lip, thanked God, Mr. Kwong, and herself for making her a pitcher on the softball team, and threw the sharp stone at his face.
Then she ran.
Two boys in the church, hunh? It sounded like a nursery rhyme.
She moved past the door.
And Nick, in all his goofy happy hunga-munga-ness, chose that moment to open it up.
Motherfucking shit! Liz whirled, her arm cocked with the sharp stone.
"You...uh...you got red on you..." Nick sounded like a derp. He was Nick, after all. And he looked like he didn't know how to hold a hunga munga. Not that she did either.
But he wasn't killing her. That was a plus.
She began to back away.
"You're going be dropping that rock right now, and whatever the hell is in that sack. I'm not messing with you, you take one more step forward and I'm going to peg you with a bolt and I guarantee you are not getting up from this one."
Liz sighed inwardly. Because now, in the doorway, next to Nick, was Teo Weinstock. Pointing a loaded crossbow at her. Liz froze. A crossbow. That was a nasty weapon. Ranged. She couldn't fight it. And death from it would hurt.
"DO IT NOW!!!"
Panic in his voice.
Liz bit her lip, thanked God, Mr. Kwong, and herself for making her a pitcher on the softball team, and threw the sharp stone at his face.
Then she ran.
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Ruggahissy
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((GM with approval from Story))
"H-hey, wait!" he called after the girl. "That's a lot of blood, are you okay?"
Nick took off after the girl. He wasn't much for distance running, but with his long strides he caught up to the girl quickly.
"Just calm down a sec. I know Teo's kind of scary with his whole 'I'm gonna shoot you with a cross bow' bit but I promise we're not gonna-"
Nick reached out and grabbed hold of the strap of Liz's duffle bag. Just as he did, he tripped for what had to have been the third or fourth time since he had woken up and pulled the bag down with him into a heap.
He rubbed his head and rolled over, knocking against the bag with his arm. Something large and round from within the pack pushed back slightly. He stared curiously at the round lump sticking up from the fabric of the bag.
"Heh, they give you a bowling ball or something?"
Nick unzipped the pack and reached in. At first it didn't connect to him what the texture of the object could have been; only that it was soft and cold with granules of dirt sticking to it. He soon found himself face to face with Chris Davidson. For a moment his mind stalled. A second that seemed to last an eternity passed and the gears in his mind resumed motion and began passing the information through.
"You...did this?" was the soft question.
His heart began beating faster; a wave of nausea pushed at his throat from his chest and he began to realize what was in his hands.
"I...." he started, and then stopped. His fingers began to shake and it felt as if his heart had hit the bottom of his stomach. A strange, unpleasant tingle flitted in his chest and seemed to extend to his fingers, which were now digging so hard into Chris' cheeks that he could feel the ridges of his teeth past the flesh.
The thing was obscene. A crusted bullet hole encircled in dried blood was the only vibrant marker on a lifeless face that had once been animated.
The parish, Chris. Nick had gone to the same church as him. They weren't great friends, but occasionally they would talk about history together. Most people didn't like to talk history with Nick, but Christ was a fellow enthusiast. He was.
"......I understand that this.....this is a game of death," he pushed out through the rising disgust. "But why?"
His hands began to shake so badly the head rattled in his hand, making it seem that Chris was grotesquely nodding in affirmation.
"You did this,"now a hissed accusation.
Nick couldn't anymore. He couldn't look but he couldn't will himself to relax his hands enough to let go. He squeezed his eyes together tightly and turned away from the thing with its eyes rolled half way back and mouth agape in a cruel imitation of the person he once knew.
Suddenly his eyes flew open. Nick dropped the head onto the duffle, grabbed Liz by the legs and pulled them out from under her. Not stopping to let go, he yanked her legs as hard as he could to pull her closer, grabbed her left shoulder and looked down at her. His unnatural blue eyes bore holes into the girl.
"YOU DID THIS! WHY IN GOD'S NAME DID CUT HIS HEAD OFF? WHAT THE FUCK?!"
His heart was racing a mile a minute and his teeth were clenched to the point of pain. He breathed as if he had just come from a marathon run, he pushed her into the dirt as hard as he could.
"H-hey, wait!" he called after the girl. "That's a lot of blood, are you okay?"
Nick took off after the girl. He wasn't much for distance running, but with his long strides he caught up to the girl quickly.
"Just calm down a sec. I know Teo's kind of scary with his whole 'I'm gonna shoot you with a cross bow' bit but I promise we're not gonna-"
Nick reached out and grabbed hold of the strap of Liz's duffle bag. Just as he did, he tripped for what had to have been the third or fourth time since he had woken up and pulled the bag down with him into a heap.
He rubbed his head and rolled over, knocking against the bag with his arm. Something large and round from within the pack pushed back slightly. He stared curiously at the round lump sticking up from the fabric of the bag.
"Heh, they give you a bowling ball or something?"
Nick unzipped the pack and reached in. At first it didn't connect to him what the texture of the object could have been; only that it was soft and cold with granules of dirt sticking to it. He soon found himself face to face with Chris Davidson. For a moment his mind stalled. A second that seemed to last an eternity passed and the gears in his mind resumed motion and began passing the information through.
"You...did this?" was the soft question.
His heart began beating faster; a wave of nausea pushed at his throat from his chest and he began to realize what was in his hands.
"I...." he started, and then stopped. His fingers began to shake and it felt as if his heart had hit the bottom of his stomach. A strange, unpleasant tingle flitted in his chest and seemed to extend to his fingers, which were now digging so hard into Chris' cheeks that he could feel the ridges of his teeth past the flesh.
The thing was obscene. A crusted bullet hole encircled in dried blood was the only vibrant marker on a lifeless face that had once been animated.
The parish, Chris. Nick had gone to the same church as him. They weren't great friends, but occasionally they would talk about history together. Most people didn't like to talk history with Nick, but Christ was a fellow enthusiast. He was.
"......I understand that this.....this is a game of death," he pushed out through the rising disgust. "But why?"
His hands began to shake so badly the head rattled in his hand, making it seem that Chris was grotesquely nodding in affirmation.
"You did this,"now a hissed accusation.
Nick couldn't anymore. He couldn't look but he couldn't will himself to relax his hands enough to let go. He squeezed his eyes together tightly and turned away from the thing with its eyes rolled half way back and mouth agape in a cruel imitation of the person he once knew.
Suddenly his eyes flew open. Nick dropped the head onto the duffle, grabbed Liz by the legs and pulled them out from under her. Not stopping to let go, he yanked her legs as hard as he could to pull her closer, grabbed her left shoulder and looked down at her. His unnatural blue eyes bore holes into the girl.
"YOU DID THIS! WHY IN GOD'S NAME DID CUT HIS HEAD OFF? WHAT THE FUCK?!"
His heart was racing a mile a minute and his teeth were clenched to the point of pain. He breathed as if he had just come from a marathon run, he pushed her into the dirt as hard as he could.
The stone flew with unerring grace and Teo ducked it at the last second swaying to one side as the rock clattered on the parish floor nearby. He wasn't expecting the girl to have such a fast or accurate pitch and he cursed inwardly as he pulled the crossbow back to his shoulder and took aim at the fleeing girl. It took less than a second to draw a bead on her and Teo squeezed the trigger as he lined her up.
Suddenly Nick's larger frame filled the sights and Teo swore. The wrestler had inadvertently blocked his shot. Pulling the crossbow away from his face Teo watched Nick chase after Liz in to the Parish sands. The boy was a fool he thought to himself as he checked his bags. Someone was going to get killed out there and he really wanted no part of it. Better off leave them to fight it out. Hopefully he could find some people who were a little more clued in on what had happened to the class and if they had any ideas.
Grabbing a bottle from the parapet and stashing it in to his duffel Teo slipped out the side of the Parish quickly and quietly. He could hear Nick's voice getting louder, and a harsh tone to it that had previously not been there. Teo didn't care though, he was going to get out of there before something happened that didn't end well.
The harshness of Nick's next outburst stopped in his tracks. Turning around he saw Nick grab Liz's shoulder. The girl had no chance against him, 225 pounds of stocky wrestler.
"Leave 'em Teo, just do the smart thing and leave 'em" he murmured to himself. He turned and looked back over his shoulder. He could leave right now, it wouldn't matter, both of them were probably going to die soon anyway. It would be the *smart* thing to do, the way was clear and he would be safe and back in control, far away from the madness he had just experienced.
Staring at the two forms he furrowed his brow as he thought it through. He took one more step away before pausing again.
"God DAMN IT!" He yelled and jogged back to the duo.
Hoisting his crossbow up once more, for the umpteenth time he yelled out. "Nick, drop her and back away. It doesn't matter what she did, don't do anything stupid!"
He didn't know any more. He wasn't even sure he could shoot this time. His nerves were frayed to their end after all the close calls, but he couldn't let someone, not even a possible murderer be torn to shreds by someone twice their size. Maybe it was his alpha male instincts to protect women or maybe it was just his need to be in control but he stood, about 20 paces away yelling at Nick. Probably the stupidest of options.
"We can all still walk away. We can all still walk away."
Suddenly Nick's larger frame filled the sights and Teo swore. The wrestler had inadvertently blocked his shot. Pulling the crossbow away from his face Teo watched Nick chase after Liz in to the Parish sands. The boy was a fool he thought to himself as he checked his bags. Someone was going to get killed out there and he really wanted no part of it. Better off leave them to fight it out. Hopefully he could find some people who were a little more clued in on what had happened to the class and if they had any ideas.
Grabbing a bottle from the parapet and stashing it in to his duffel Teo slipped out the side of the Parish quickly and quietly. He could hear Nick's voice getting louder, and a harsh tone to it that had previously not been there. Teo didn't care though, he was going to get out of there before something happened that didn't end well.
The harshness of Nick's next outburst stopped in his tracks. Turning around he saw Nick grab Liz's shoulder. The girl had no chance against him, 225 pounds of stocky wrestler.
"Leave 'em Teo, just do the smart thing and leave 'em" he murmured to himself. He turned and looked back over his shoulder. He could leave right now, it wouldn't matter, both of them were probably going to die soon anyway. It would be the *smart* thing to do, the way was clear and he would be safe and back in control, far away from the madness he had just experienced.
Staring at the two forms he furrowed his brow as he thought it through. He took one more step away before pausing again.
"God DAMN IT!" He yelled and jogged back to the duo.
Hoisting his crossbow up once more, for the umpteenth time he yelled out. "Nick, drop her and back away. It doesn't matter what she did, don't do anything stupid!"
He didn't know any more. He wasn't even sure he could shoot this time. His nerves were frayed to their end after all the close calls, but he couldn't let someone, not even a possible murderer be torn to shreds by someone twice their size. Maybe it was his alpha male instincts to protect women or maybe it was just his need to be in control but he stood, about 20 paces away yelling at Nick. Probably the stupidest of options.
"We can all still walk away. We can all still walk away."
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storyspoiler†
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She had forgotten how big Nick the derp was until he smashed her onto the ground. The impact made her head feel sick.
"YOU DID THIS! WHY IN GOD'S NAME DID CUT HIS HEAD OFF? WHAT THE FUCK?!"
She had also forgotten that he as a wrestler. It was unnerving to be taken down so fast. She didn't particularly appreciate his histrionics, though.
"I didn't kill him." She spat in his face. There. Maybe that would calm him down.
If not, well...
She twisted to the side, got her forehead under his nose, and bucked upward. Forehead connected to nose. Bone on bone. Hurt a little for her; considering the noise he made, hurt a lot for him.
There was a splash of blood on her face.
She threw herself again, and kneed him in what she hoped were the nuts. Maybe that would make him move.
(GM'ed with Ruggahissy's permission)
"YOU DID THIS! WHY IN GOD'S NAME DID CUT HIS HEAD OFF? WHAT THE FUCK?!"
She had also forgotten that he as a wrestler. It was unnerving to be taken down so fast. She didn't particularly appreciate his histrionics, though.
"I didn't kill him." She spat in his face. There. Maybe that would calm him down.
If not, well...
She twisted to the side, got her forehead under his nose, and bucked upward. Forehead connected to nose. Bone on bone. Hurt a little for her; considering the noise he made, hurt a lot for him.
There was a splash of blood on her face.
She threw herself again, and kneed him in what she hoped were the nuts. Maybe that would make him move.
(GM'ed with Ruggahissy's permission)
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Ruggahissy
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- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
Nick was taken aback by the sudden blow to the face. The pain stemming from his nose stung and made him blink, but he shook the injury off and continued to stare at the girl. He was no stranger to bloody noses and had become accustomed to them over his long history of clumsiness.
"I didn't kill him." She spat in his face.
"Liar," he growled at her. His own blood was lost in the brown-tinted blood already caked onto her skin and clothes.
He felt her buck forward with her knee and opened his legs slightly, then closed them tight in time to catch her knee between his thighs. This not having been the first time someone had attempted to knee him.
"Nick, drop her and back away. It doesn't matter what she did, don't do anything stupid!"
His hands shot out and wrapped around her neck. His fingers curled around the small radius and her soft skin bulged around his digits. Soon it was just muscle straining against his grip.
"It does matter."
She deserves it.
"Who are you to judge?" she asked.
Slowly his grip became slack.
"We can all still walk away. We can all still walk away."
Nick removed his hands from her neck, finger still somewhat curled as he pulled them away. He took a deep breath, picked up his hunga mugna and bag and stood back up. Eyes on the floor, he shuffled over to Teo, put his free hand on the other boy's shoulder and squeezed.
"I....I owe you one, man."
"I didn't kill him." She spat in his face.
"Liar," he growled at her. His own blood was lost in the brown-tinted blood already caked onto her skin and clothes.
He felt her buck forward with her knee and opened his legs slightly, then closed them tight in time to catch her knee between his thighs. This not having been the first time someone had attempted to knee him.
"Nick, drop her and back away. It doesn't matter what she did, don't do anything stupid!"
His hands shot out and wrapped around her neck. His fingers curled around the small radius and her soft skin bulged around his digits. Soon it was just muscle straining against his grip.
"It does matter."
She deserves it.
"Who are you to judge?" she asked.
Slowly his grip became slack.
"We can all still walk away. We can all still walk away."
Nick removed his hands from her neck, finger still somewhat curled as he pulled them away. He took a deep breath, picked up his hunga mugna and bag and stood back up. Eyes on the floor, he shuffled over to Teo, put his free hand on the other boy's shoulder and squeezed.
"I....I owe you one, man."
Teo noticed his finger was trembling slightly when he moved his hand away from trigger of the crossbow. He had never trembled in his life and the feeling of pressure had somewhat put him in to a realm where he hadn't been before. This was the first time that he felt out of his depth and not confident of whether he could 'work' the situation per say.
It seemed every student he had run in to was playing with his mind, swinging from totally nonchalant to crazy within seconds of events happening. He had never seen people act that way, but then again he had never really seen people in this kind of situation. Teo never really watched Survival of the Fittest before, he was too busy actually living his life to really pay attention to the program. He had caught glimpses of it from time to today, but nothing that could help him now.
He forced a smile to his face as Nick grabbed his shoulder.
"No problems buddy. Lets get out of here, I think I saw some buildings past that hill before. That must be the town, lets get going before that Liz girl gets any closer. She gives me the heebie jeebies."
Taking another look at the girl staring at them from across the way he started off in the direction of the buildings looming in the distance. He broke in to a slow jog, anxious to get far away from this place of insanity as soon as possible.
((Teo Weinstock continued in Twists and Turns))
It seemed every student he had run in to was playing with his mind, swinging from totally nonchalant to crazy within seconds of events happening. He had never seen people act that way, but then again he had never really seen people in this kind of situation. Teo never really watched Survival of the Fittest before, he was too busy actually living his life to really pay attention to the program. He had caught glimpses of it from time to today, but nothing that could help him now.
He forced a smile to his face as Nick grabbed his shoulder.
"No problems buddy. Lets get out of here, I think I saw some buildings past that hill before. That must be the town, lets get going before that Liz girl gets any closer. She gives me the heebie jeebies."
Taking another look at the girl staring at them from across the way he started off in the direction of the buildings looming in the distance. He broke in to a slow jog, anxious to get far away from this place of insanity as soon as possible.
((Teo Weinstock continued in Twists and Turns))
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Ruggahissy
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- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
Nick felt a shiver run through his body. He released Teo's shoulder and clutched his hung munga with both hands, bringing it up to his chest and slouching his shoulders slightly. He was still somewhat shaken by everything. His friend's decapitated head still lay on the ground by the girl, but somehow more than that was his reaction to everything. Nick was never angry. He probably would have been less angry if Teo had shot him with that cross bow back at the entrance of the church. The feeling was foreign and disturbing; the way that it took hold of him.
He hugged the hunga munga close and took another, slightly shaky breath.
"I shouldn'ta done that. I shouldn't," he said in a quieter tone.
He looked up at Teo and saw him smile. Nick returned a weak smile; his former cheerfulness beginning to show through once again.
"Good idea. I'll bet there are people in town," he said, though really he liked the part of the plan that involved getting as far from the goth girl as possible. He opened his bag, stuck his hunga munga inside, knowing himself well enough to know that running with multiple weapons would be asking for him to trip and impale himself and took off after Teo.
((Nick continued in Twists and Turns))
He hugged the hunga munga close and took another, slightly shaky breath.
"I shouldn'ta done that. I shouldn't," he said in a quieter tone.
He looked up at Teo and saw him smile. Nick returned a weak smile; his former cheerfulness beginning to show through once again.
"Good idea. I'll bet there are people in town," he said, though really he liked the part of the plan that involved getting as far from the goth girl as possible. He opened his bag, stuck his hunga munga inside, knowing himself well enough to know that running with multiple weapons would be asking for him to trip and impale himself and took off after Teo.
((Nick continued in Twists and Turns))
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storyspoiler†
- Posts: 152
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 6:16 am
Liz breathed. It hurt. She felt like she had been screaming for a very, very long time.
Someone had been strangling her, and she was not dead. She wasn't sure what had happened, but now the boys were gone. And her knife and her pack were her own.
She sat up, and coughed white mucus into her hands. Her hands were trembling. She needed a cigarette badly. Her pack of Camels was smashed, but still good. She went through her bag methodically, to see if they had taken the lighter. They hadn't. Thank God.
It was her most expensive possession. A thirty dollar Zippo, chrome inlaid with a copper ring of fire.
She squeezed the Camel until it was vaguely cigarette-shaped again, and lit it. Smoked with quick breaths that turned the shaft into a cone of ash. Took the cigarette out of her mouth to avoid hyperventilating.
So it turned out looking like a freak had disadvantages as well as advantages. Go figure.
She needed to hide. Now. And needed to prevent people from seeing her until she could leap down from a high tree and scare the shit out of them because her face was covered in dried blood and she was near a staked head. Or something.
She needed a weapon. Ranged, better then rocks. Rocks wouldn't cut it. Unfortunately, the boy with the crossbow--Teo Weinstock, she reminded herself of names--was gone. Not that he looked likely to lend her a crossbow anyway.
Her boots, a size too large, were stuffed with black socks. She pulled off a boot, pulled the sock out, pulled herself over to a nearby proto-sapling in the sandy soil and re-stuffed her boot with leaves. Sorry, proto-sapling.
Then she filled the sock with sand, knotted the end, and threw it.
It hit the nearest tree with a satisfying 'thunk', and didn't seemed damaged by the impact. So now I have a makeshift cosh. Two, if I stuff my other sock. That was a weapon anyway.
She stuffed her other sock, damaging another proto-sapling for the trouble. She walked unsteadily to the nearby tree, picked up the first sock, and sat down again. She was dizzy still. Jesus Christ.
She closed her eyes. They burned. No crying. She shut them tighter.
Nausea flooded her throat.
She was trembling all over now.
No. No. No. No. Breaking down like this was not an option. She hugged the nearby tree, and held herself still. Dry-heaved suddenly, coughing, until she spat out a wad of blood and mouth-snot the size of a golf ball. She'd bitten her own tongue.
Bad. Shock is bad. She moved her shaking hands to her bag, pulled out a bottle of water, and drank cautiously from it. Her tongue stung, and she tasted blood, but at least the pain helped her focus.
So, dying. Not an option. Lesson number one was that death was scary. She didn't want to do it. Her life hadn't flashed before her. There hadn't been a moment of airless calm, or ecstasy. There was nothing, really. Just funny lights, and fear, and dark. And the strange thought, who are you to judge? It wasn't a thought she'd expected to have in her last breath.
She was a freak. Everyone could judge.
She didn't want to think about it. Back to lesson number one. She didn't want to die.
She stood up.
Her neck was starting to ache. She touched where Nick's fingers had been, gingerly. Tiny, dark bruises had formed.
Well. Maybe I'll just look more like a scary goth girl.
She put on her pack, and headed for the woods.
(Liz Polanski continued in Hideaway)
Someone had been strangling her, and she was not dead. She wasn't sure what had happened, but now the boys were gone. And her knife and her pack were her own.
She sat up, and coughed white mucus into her hands. Her hands were trembling. She needed a cigarette badly. Her pack of Camels was smashed, but still good. She went through her bag methodically, to see if they had taken the lighter. They hadn't. Thank God.
It was her most expensive possession. A thirty dollar Zippo, chrome inlaid with a copper ring of fire.
She squeezed the Camel until it was vaguely cigarette-shaped again, and lit it. Smoked with quick breaths that turned the shaft into a cone of ash. Took the cigarette out of her mouth to avoid hyperventilating.
So it turned out looking like a freak had disadvantages as well as advantages. Go figure.
She needed to hide. Now. And needed to prevent people from seeing her until she could leap down from a high tree and scare the shit out of them because her face was covered in dried blood and she was near a staked head. Or something.
She needed a weapon. Ranged, better then rocks. Rocks wouldn't cut it. Unfortunately, the boy with the crossbow--Teo Weinstock, she reminded herself of names--was gone. Not that he looked likely to lend her a crossbow anyway.
Her boots, a size too large, were stuffed with black socks. She pulled off a boot, pulled the sock out, pulled herself over to a nearby proto-sapling in the sandy soil and re-stuffed her boot with leaves. Sorry, proto-sapling.
Then she filled the sock with sand, knotted the end, and threw it.
It hit the nearest tree with a satisfying 'thunk', and didn't seemed damaged by the impact. So now I have a makeshift cosh. Two, if I stuff my other sock. That was a weapon anyway.
She stuffed her other sock, damaging another proto-sapling for the trouble. She walked unsteadily to the nearby tree, picked up the first sock, and sat down again. She was dizzy still. Jesus Christ.
She closed her eyes. They burned. No crying. She shut them tighter.
Nausea flooded her throat.
She was trembling all over now.
No. No. No. No. Breaking down like this was not an option. She hugged the nearby tree, and held herself still. Dry-heaved suddenly, coughing, until she spat out a wad of blood and mouth-snot the size of a golf ball. She'd bitten her own tongue.
Bad. Shock is bad. She moved her shaking hands to her bag, pulled out a bottle of water, and drank cautiously from it. Her tongue stung, and she tasted blood, but at least the pain helped her focus.
So, dying. Not an option. Lesson number one was that death was scary. She didn't want to do it. Her life hadn't flashed before her. There hadn't been a moment of airless calm, or ecstasy. There was nothing, really. Just funny lights, and fear, and dark. And the strange thought, who are you to judge? It wasn't a thought she'd expected to have in her last breath.
She was a freak. Everyone could judge.
She didn't want to think about it. Back to lesson number one. She didn't want to die.
She stood up.
Her neck was starting to ache. She touched where Nick's fingers had been, gingerly. Tiny, dark bruises had formed.
Well. Maybe I'll just look more like a scary goth girl.
She put on her pack, and headed for the woods.
(Liz Polanski continued in Hideaway)
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler storyspoiler. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.