((Continued from Desperation))
Leo Curtis wasn't in the greatest frame of mind after what he'd just witnessed. He was shocked, shocked, that there were people in his school who would stoop to rape when the chips were down and the watchmen weren't watching. Murder's one thing, but rape...that's just crossing the line, Mr. Reeves. Crossing the line.
He slowed down as he left the jungle and entered a small clearing. A nice little brown cottage stood in the middle of it. There was a lovely little stone well on the front lawn. There was a boy with his head split open in the middle of the lawn.
"Jeff Marontate," Leo said with a smile. "I see Jessa took no chances with you."
He stepped over the body and moved into the cottage. His club at the ready, he checked all of the rooms. Everything about it was quaint, almost colonial - the kind of house you would expect a park ranger or caretaker to live in. After checking the rooms, Leo sat down on a crate in the living room and started throwing the club between his hands. After a while of this, he got up and went into the bedroom. Lying down on the bed, he began checking through his notepad and rereading the announcements again.
"I'm glad this isn't a dangerzone anymore," Leo remarked to no-one in particular. "I could get used to relaxing here."
Putting the notepad back in his daypack, Leo stretched out and laughed lightly.
Amaro
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Amaro
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((Raven Lawrence continued from Playing MacGyver))
Raven moved quickly through the jungles of the island. He needed to find a better weapon before he could expect to accomplish anything in this game, which meant finding somebody he could take on in a fight. Somebody alone... but somebody who was trusting. If he couldn't win in a straight fight, then playing dirty would have to do for now. If the person was lucky, maybe Raven would just steal their weapon and let them live for now... after all, he might have decided to try playing the game, but that didn't mean he had to go around killing the non-players. He was interested in getting equipment and staying unnoticed, not setting records for the most kills.
There was a lone cottage off in the distance... would it be a good thing or a bad thing? It would be hard to tell how many people were in there until he was already in the situation, which meant that he would be at a disadvantage to start. Still, he didn't have all that many options...
Moving past the corpse on the lawn, Raven moved cautiously to the front door. He kept his right hand near his pocket, ready to whip out his fork at a moment's notice. Nobody seemed to be in the building. He stepped past the threshold and into the main room of the cottage.
The room behind the front door was unoccupied. A very good sign, because it was the biggest room and therefore would proabably have been occupied if there had been a large group of people present in the area. The room to the right of the entrance, which seemed to be a kitchen of some sort, was likewise unoccupied. The room to the left, on the other hand...
Raven moved quickly through the jungles of the island. He needed to find a better weapon before he could expect to accomplish anything in this game, which meant finding somebody he could take on in a fight. Somebody alone... but somebody who was trusting. If he couldn't win in a straight fight, then playing dirty would have to do for now. If the person was lucky, maybe Raven would just steal their weapon and let them live for now... after all, he might have decided to try playing the game, but that didn't mean he had to go around killing the non-players. He was interested in getting equipment and staying unnoticed, not setting records for the most kills.
There was a lone cottage off in the distance... would it be a good thing or a bad thing? It would be hard to tell how many people were in there until he was already in the situation, which meant that he would be at a disadvantage to start. Still, he didn't have all that many options...
Moving past the corpse on the lawn, Raven moved cautiously to the front door. He kept his right hand near his pocket, ready to whip out his fork at a moment's notice. Nobody seemed to be in the building. He stepped past the threshold and into the main room of the cottage.
The room behind the front door was unoccupied. A very good sign, because it was the biggest room and therefore would proabably have been occupied if there had been a large group of people present in the area. The room to the right of the entrance, which seemed to be a kitchen of some sort, was likewise unoccupied. The room to the left, on the other hand...
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((Bobby continued from: Mourn/Sound and Fury))
Bobby's spirits were low as he emerged from the trees, his trip much truncated from his usual travelling time. But he'd given himself a lot to think about, which was, on reflection, slightly weird. Seeing Andy's body up close though... that had given him a bit of a reality check, that girl back at the airfield yelling at him after he broke down a little... she'd been right, and that was what had triggered this strange mood he was in.
A huge sadness had come over him, and were it not one of his sole means of protection, Bobby would have thrown his pistol away in disgust by now. Something about the SIG just wasn't right - or maybe how effective a killer he'd become once finding a more useful weapon was just frightening him. He wished he'd never tripped over it in the field.
A cottage was what Bobby saw after the vegetation was no longer in his way, and Bobby's heart took another dive. A building undoubtedly meant there were people, and he was tempted to just turn around and walk straight off. However... if it was empty, a bed looked good, very good. He weighed up the pros and cons for a little while and decided it was worth the risk - he needed rest after all, and cautiously headed towards the buidling.
He hesitated for a moment, then circled the place, hopping over the fence at the rear of the building and about managing to squeeze through a window at the back, dropping into some kind of kitchen it looked like - no use tempting fate by waltzing right through the front entrance after all.
Bobby crouched in the corner of the room for a while, listening out for others, but if there were he couldn't hear them. He moved further into the room, approaching a door, and looked out... seeing somebody standing in the main room! With a barely stifled cry of alarm Bobby ducked back behind the wall.
Great... don't allow your trigger finger to get itchy.
Bobby's spirits were low as he emerged from the trees, his trip much truncated from his usual travelling time. But he'd given himself a lot to think about, which was, on reflection, slightly weird. Seeing Andy's body up close though... that had given him a bit of a reality check, that girl back at the airfield yelling at him after he broke down a little... she'd been right, and that was what had triggered this strange mood he was in.
A huge sadness had come over him, and were it not one of his sole means of protection, Bobby would have thrown his pistol away in disgust by now. Something about the SIG just wasn't right - or maybe how effective a killer he'd become once finding a more useful weapon was just frightening him. He wished he'd never tripped over it in the field.
A cottage was what Bobby saw after the vegetation was no longer in his way, and Bobby's heart took another dive. A building undoubtedly meant there were people, and he was tempted to just turn around and walk straight off. However... if it was empty, a bed looked good, very good. He weighed up the pros and cons for a little while and decided it was worth the risk - he needed rest after all, and cautiously headed towards the buidling.
He hesitated for a moment, then circled the place, hopping over the fence at the rear of the building and about managing to squeeze through a window at the back, dropping into some kind of kitchen it looked like - no use tempting fate by waltzing right through the front entrance after all.
Bobby crouched in the corner of the room for a while, listening out for others, but if there were he couldn't hear them. He moved further into the room, approaching a door, and looked out... seeing somebody standing in the main room! With a barely stifled cry of alarm Bobby ducked back behind the wall.
Great... don't allow your trigger finger to get itchy.
Raven walked into the single bedroom of the cottage. He would have preferred to sneak in and surprise the boy inside, but with only one door into the room, he would probably be spotted before he could subdue his opponent. Oh well, he would just have to do things in a harder way. He stepped forward, stopping just inside the door. His primary goal right now was making sure that he appeared as harmless as possible.
Still, he made sure that his fork would be easy to grab before he decided to speak up.
"Are you playing?" he asked the boy who was lying on the bed. Acting wasn't one of Raven's talents, so there was no point in trying to make himself sound scared. If this boy fell for the deception it would be nice, if not it would just make things a little more difficult again.
Still, he made sure that his fork would be easy to grab before he decided to speak up.
"Are you playing?" he asked the boy who was lying on the bed. Acting wasn't one of Raven's talents, so there was no point in trying to make himself sound scared. If this boy fell for the deception it would be nice, if not it would just make things a little more difficult again.
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((NB: Godmodding approved by Munnin.))
"Are you playing?"
Leo jerked upright and swung around, his legs now dangling off the bed. He did a light jump off and moved towards the tall, messy-looking boy in front of him.
Raven Lawrence, tall, socially negligible, was standing in front of him. But Santa, I thought Christmas was in December, he thought jokingly to himself.
Leo lowered the club slightly, and forced his trademark campaign smile - slightly-cocked head, not showing too much tooth, slight curve.
"I'm not playing, Raven Lawrence? That is your name, yes? Anyway, welcome to my humble abode. My name is..."
Crrreeeak...
Was that the window in the kitchen?
Leo's face suddenly turned serious again, and he stepped around Raven lightly, gesturing to him to get inside the room. A blurry figure disappeared behind the doorway to the kitchen, and Leo, a safe distance away, called out to the mysterious figure.
"Who's there? Show yourself. I'm not going to kill you."
A few seconds passed. Nothing happened. This worried Leo.
"Stay inside the room, Lawrence."
Leo put his club in his daypack and grabbed a chair from in the lounge and dragged it into the bedroom. He shut the door lightly behind them, then jammed the chair under it. He then dove into his daypack.
Having been on the island for a while, Leo had ventured out of the quarry every so often to collect supplies he would deem advantageous. This had included, most recently, stripping a couple of bushes of flax. Grabbing some of the flax now, he tied the door handle to the chair, then turned to Raven. Raven was looking out the window.
"You couldn't make this much easier, could you?"
Leo grabbed his club from inside the daypack and swung at Raven's head. There was a satisfying crack as it connected, knocking the boy out. Leo caught him just as he was about to hit the ground, making sure he made no sound. Leo then lay him on the bed and began tying him to it with the flax.
Playing it smart, Leo Curtis. Good job.
"Are you playing?"
Leo jerked upright and swung around, his legs now dangling off the bed. He did a light jump off and moved towards the tall, messy-looking boy in front of him.
Raven Lawrence, tall, socially negligible, was standing in front of him. But Santa, I thought Christmas was in December, he thought jokingly to himself.
Leo lowered the club slightly, and forced his trademark campaign smile - slightly-cocked head, not showing too much tooth, slight curve.
"I'm not playing, Raven Lawrence? That is your name, yes? Anyway, welcome to my humble abode. My name is..."
Crrreeeak...
Was that the window in the kitchen?
Leo's face suddenly turned serious again, and he stepped around Raven lightly, gesturing to him to get inside the room. A blurry figure disappeared behind the doorway to the kitchen, and Leo, a safe distance away, called out to the mysterious figure.
"Who's there? Show yourself. I'm not going to kill you."
A few seconds passed. Nothing happened. This worried Leo.
"Stay inside the room, Lawrence."
Leo put his club in his daypack and grabbed a chair from in the lounge and dragged it into the bedroom. He shut the door lightly behind them, then jammed the chair under it. He then dove into his daypack.
Having been on the island for a while, Leo had ventured out of the quarry every so often to collect supplies he would deem advantageous. This had included, most recently, stripping a couple of bushes of flax. Grabbing some of the flax now, he tied the door handle to the chair, then turned to Raven. Raven was looking out the window.
"You couldn't make this much easier, could you?"
Leo grabbed his club from inside the daypack and swung at Raven's head. There was a satisfying crack as it connected, knocking the boy out. Leo caught him just as he was about to hit the ground, making sure he made no sound. Leo then lay him on the bed and began tying him to it with the flax.
Playing it smart, Leo Curtis. Good job.
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((Ryan continued from Ratio Descskfhjdshfs...that thread in the caves))
Good directional skills you have there Ryan.
Lost. Ryan was lost with no idea which way the sea cliffs were. He assumed he was close, but instead he'd come out of the jungle near a small cottage. He was so exhausted from not having any water or food for the last couple of hours, combined with combing the jungle for his bag that the cottage seemed like a perfect place to take a rest.
Holding his nose as he stepped around the corpse in the front lawn, he moved towards the door, when he saw a rather large individual disappear inside. Thinking it would be better if he checked the place from the outside first, Ryan made his way around the back of the house as quietly as he could.
It was when he went around the corner of the house that he was a boy staring out the window, then suddenly drop out of sight, allowing Ryan to catch a glimpse of a boy holding a club with a wild look in his eyes.
"Fuck...fuck...what do I do?"
Ryan could break the window with a rock and climb in and surprise the wild eyed kid, or he could take his leave and let someone die. It would be a hell of a thing to have on his mind the rest of his stay on his island.
"I've got to help that kid." Ryan said to himself.
Ryan grabbed a rock from the side of the house, a fairly large one, took a few steps back and hurdled it at the window. The glass seemed like it exploded. Ryan ran towards the window and leaped, bringing his feet up almost making his body a V shape. He landed firmly on the floor and looked around. There was a boy bound to the bed.
Ryan quickly rushed over to the bed to try and untie him.
"Don't worry dude, I'll help you."
Good directional skills you have there Ryan.
Lost. Ryan was lost with no idea which way the sea cliffs were. He assumed he was close, but instead he'd come out of the jungle near a small cottage. He was so exhausted from not having any water or food for the last couple of hours, combined with combing the jungle for his bag that the cottage seemed like a perfect place to take a rest.
Holding his nose as he stepped around the corpse in the front lawn, he moved towards the door, when he saw a rather large individual disappear inside. Thinking it would be better if he checked the place from the outside first, Ryan made his way around the back of the house as quietly as he could.
It was when he went around the corner of the house that he was a boy staring out the window, then suddenly drop out of sight, allowing Ryan to catch a glimpse of a boy holding a club with a wild look in his eyes.
"Fuck...fuck...what do I do?"
Ryan could break the window with a rock and climb in and surprise the wild eyed kid, or he could take his leave and let someone die. It would be a hell of a thing to have on his mind the rest of his stay on his island.
"I've got to help that kid." Ryan said to himself.
Ryan grabbed a rock from the side of the house, a fairly large one, took a few steps back and hurdled it at the window. The glass seemed like it exploded. Ryan ran towards the window and leaped, bringing his feet up almost making his body a V shape. He landed firmly on the floor and looked around. There was a boy bound to the bed.
Ryan quickly rushed over to the bed to try and untie him.
"Don't worry dude, I'll help you."
Stuff. Things. Stuff and things.
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((OOC: Apologies in advance for breaking the post order, Clu, but Ryan's arrived, and we need to do this. Check your PMs for more info. 
))
Leo had just finished tying up the final lot of flax around Raven and the bed when the window exploded as a rock flew through it and slammed against the wall on the other side of the room. Leo, stunned, dived under the bed. I see whoever was in the kitchen just grew a spine. Bad timing, my friend.
Leo peered out as he heard a boy grunting and jumping through the shattered window. What am I up against, a gymnast? A hurdler? It doesn't even sound like he touched the sides. If he did, surely he'd have glass digging into his hands or legs.
Well, if he did, it'll make him easier to fight. A small consolation.
The boy landed solidly, and Leo watched as he stood in the middle of the room. He would have to have worked out that Leo was still inside, as the door was still jammed by the chair and there was no other way out. Luckily, he hadn't noticed the gap under the bed, so Leo was still safe.
The boy walked over to the bed and began working to untie Mr. Lawrence. "Don't worry dude, I'll help you."
Leo smiled. So our friend is not one to hesitate. He is going to have fun with those knots. And who is our friend, anyway? Leo peered out from under the bed for a split second before withdrawing, and his smile grew wider. Ryan Gilbert. 18. Artist. Rather...destitute. Could be an even easier removal than Mr. Lawrence up there. Let's see.
Leo's hands shot out from under the bed to grab Ryan's ankles and yank his feet out from under him.
"PEEK-A-BOO, MR. GILBERT!"
))Leo had just finished tying up the final lot of flax around Raven and the bed when the window exploded as a rock flew through it and slammed against the wall on the other side of the room. Leo, stunned, dived under the bed. I see whoever was in the kitchen just grew a spine. Bad timing, my friend.
Leo peered out as he heard a boy grunting and jumping through the shattered window. What am I up against, a gymnast? A hurdler? It doesn't even sound like he touched the sides. If he did, surely he'd have glass digging into his hands or legs.
Well, if he did, it'll make him easier to fight. A small consolation.
The boy landed solidly, and Leo watched as he stood in the middle of the room. He would have to have worked out that Leo was still inside, as the door was still jammed by the chair and there was no other way out. Luckily, he hadn't noticed the gap under the bed, so Leo was still safe.
The boy walked over to the bed and began working to untie Mr. Lawrence. "Don't worry dude, I'll help you."
Leo smiled. So our friend is not one to hesitate. He is going to have fun with those knots. And who is our friend, anyway? Leo peered out from under the bed for a split second before withdrawing, and his smile grew wider. Ryan Gilbert. 18. Artist. Rather...destitute. Could be an even easier removal than Mr. Lawrence up there. Let's see.
Leo's hands shot out from under the bed to grab Ryan's ankles and yank his feet out from under him.
"PEEK-A-BOO, MR. GILBERT!"
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Looks like I spooked somebody at least.
Sticking his head back around the doorframe, Bobby saw the door across the room from the kitchen shut, before hearing a sound like something heavy being dragged along the ground. Were they barricading themselves in? Well, if they were, or heck, even if they were just staying inside of the room Bobby wasn't going to try taking them on. He had hoped the cottage was empty but it evidently had people inhabiting it, right now, getting into a fight wasn't on his list of priorities.
Bobby heard somebody call out and his mouth twitched into a half smile.
"It isn't you I'm worried about killing somebody, it's me. Bobby isn't the friendliest guy around," he stepped out into the hallway then, looked left and right, and saw no-one. From there he simply shrugged and walked out of the front door and away from any possible conflict.
There. I don't have to attempt to slaughter everybody in sight. I haven't sunk that far... yet. When the chips are down and it's a straight confrontation will I act in the same way? I'm not so sure. As of now though... I suppose this is my first try at stopping my progress along this path.
"I'll see what happens when it happens," Bobby murmured to himself, disappearing back into the jungle.
((Continued in: Smooth, sorry for almost messing that up, I wasn't aware this was a death scene))
Sticking his head back around the doorframe, Bobby saw the door across the room from the kitchen shut, before hearing a sound like something heavy being dragged along the ground. Were they barricading themselves in? Well, if they were, or heck, even if they were just staying inside of the room Bobby wasn't going to try taking them on. He had hoped the cottage was empty but it evidently had people inhabiting it, right now, getting into a fight wasn't on his list of priorities.
Bobby heard somebody call out and his mouth twitched into a half smile.
"It isn't you I'm worried about killing somebody, it's me. Bobby isn't the friendliest guy around," he stepped out into the hallway then, looked left and right, and saw no-one. From there he simply shrugged and walked out of the front door and away from any possible conflict.
There. I don't have to attempt to slaughter everybody in sight. I haven't sunk that far... yet. When the chips are down and it's a straight confrontation will I act in the same way? I'm not so sure. As of now though... I suppose this is my first try at stopping my progress along this path.
"I'll see what happens when it happens," Bobby murmured to himself, disappearing back into the jungle.
((Continued in: Smooth, sorry for almost messing that up, I wasn't aware this was a death scene))
"Oh!" Ryan gasped as his feet were thrown out from under him. His upper body went careering towards the floor. His fall was stopped by the back of his head introducing itself to the floor with a crack.
Ryan grabbed for anything he could reach to help him stand. He found the bedpost and tried to stand, but was still too woozy from the blow. He stumbled and fell again, scrambling to a seated position in the corner of the room.
He could feel a warm liquid running out of his hair and down the back of his neck. He looked around with blurred vision, and could make out something under the bed. He tried standing again and this time was successful, but still he was wobbly.
Ryan grabbed for anything he could reach to help him stand. He found the bedpost and tried to stand, but was still too woozy from the blow. He stumbled and fell again, scrambling to a seated position in the corner of the room.
He could feel a warm liquid running out of his hair and down the back of his neck. He looked around with blurred vision, and could make out something under the bed. He tried standing again and this time was successful, but still he was wobbly.
Stuff. Things. Stuff and things.
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((OOC: Godmodding approved by Sciph.))
Ryan Gilbert fell to the floor, Leo's manoeuvre working perfectly. There was a sickening crack as his head collided with the hard wood, and Leo winced, then smiled, at the sound. Mr. Gilbert attempted to stand again, but then collapsed into the corner, gravity practically forcing him back onto the ground.
Well, that is a good start to proceedings.
Leo rolled out from under the bed and got back up on his feet. He smiled at the curled-up figure in the corner.
"Good morning, Mr. Gilbert. How nice of you to drop in. Unfortunately for you, the consequences of you doing so will be...unpleasant."
As Mr. Gilbert swayed in the corner, Leo kicked the chair out from under the door handle, letting it hang loosely from the flax tying it to the knob. Leo opened the door, then grabbed Mr. Gilbert by the hair. His club in his free hand, Leo began dragging the rather limp boy out of the bedroom and through the lounge, aiming to get outside and finish up with him. If I'm going to be dispatching of Mr. Gilbert, I should probably do it where Mr. Lawrence can't wake up and surprise me.
While dragging, Leo began speaking to the dazed boy, his tone upbeat and friendly. "So, Mr. Gilbert, what brings you to my cottage? And without equipment? That is very disappointing, Mr. Gilbert. You must always be prepared - who knows who or what you could encounter in these dangerous times."
Ryan Gilbert fell to the floor, Leo's manoeuvre working perfectly. There was a sickening crack as his head collided with the hard wood, and Leo winced, then smiled, at the sound. Mr. Gilbert attempted to stand again, but then collapsed into the corner, gravity practically forcing him back onto the ground.
Well, that is a good start to proceedings.
Leo rolled out from under the bed and got back up on his feet. He smiled at the curled-up figure in the corner.
"Good morning, Mr. Gilbert. How nice of you to drop in. Unfortunately for you, the consequences of you doing so will be...unpleasant."
As Mr. Gilbert swayed in the corner, Leo kicked the chair out from under the door handle, letting it hang loosely from the flax tying it to the knob. Leo opened the door, then grabbed Mr. Gilbert by the hair. His club in his free hand, Leo began dragging the rather limp boy out of the bedroom and through the lounge, aiming to get outside and finish up with him. If I'm going to be dispatching of Mr. Gilbert, I should probably do it where Mr. Lawrence can't wake up and surprise me.
While dragging, Leo began speaking to the dazed boy, his tone upbeat and friendly. "So, Mr. Gilbert, what brings you to my cottage? And without equipment? That is very disappointing, Mr. Gilbert. You must always be prepared - who knows who or what you could encounter in these dangerous times."
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((OOC: All godmodding from here on out approved by Sciph. I've tried to give each of the characters equal development - hope I've succeeded.))
"You must always be prepared - who knows who or what you could encounter in these dangerous times."
Ryan slowly began to shake the groggy feeling that had been afflicting him since the guy from under the bed had pulled his legs out from under him and sent him crashing to the floor. As he shook the feeling, he realised that he was being pulled rather roughly by the hair, through the cottage and outside.
What the hell is he planning to do? He didn't finish me off, so he must have something in mind.
Well, I'm not going out wondering.
Ryan jabbed his elbow back into Leo's knee.
***
Mr. Gilbert's fighting back was not at all something Leo had expected. He had expected him to go out quickly and easily, but it was fairly obvious to Leo, as his right leg buckled at the knee and he let go of Ryan, grunting in pain, that this would no longer be the case. He smiled, and spun around to face his would-be victim.
"Well, Mr. Gilbert, this is a surprise. I guess I was wrong about you. Well, wrong about most things about you."
Ryan clenched his fists and replied, "What weren't you wrong about then, you psychopath?"
"How you're going to die, Mr. Gilbert."
Leo lunged at him.
***
Ryan had predicted Leo would attack first – the psycho thought he had the upper hand, he wasn't expecting a fight – and dived out of the way as Leo crashed to the ground. Both boys grunted, one out of generic pain, and one due to the wind getting knocked out of him. Leo's club had flown across the lounge, but neither had noticed, having more immediate concerns – namely, each other – on their minds. Ryan pushed himself up and walked over to the winded Leo, and kicked him in the stomach. Leo groaned.
"What the fuck, man? First you try and tie someone to a bed to – hell, I don't what you were going to do, and now you attack me? What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Leo looked up at Ryan, his politician's smile creeping over his face. In any other situation, it would have been reassuring, friendly, even though it was disingenuous. Now, it was creepy, unnerving – disturbing.
"I intend to live, Mr. Gilbert," Leo replied. "Don't you?"
***
Ryan's question had amused Leo to no end. There was nothing wrong with him, in any sense of the word. He was merely adapting to a situation that others – including Mr. Gilbert, it would appear – were too slow to accept. There was no feasible way that they would all live, short of several platoons of Marines storming the island. So, applying logic, Leo had reasoned someone must live.
That someone was him.
"I intend to live, Mr. Gilbert," he had replied, a smile creeping over his face. "Don't you?"
During this coffee break, Leo had regained his breath and his strength, and in one swift movement, he grabbed Ryan's ankles again and pulled him back to the ground, a loud thud echoing through the cottage. Leo jumped up, sauntered over to his club and picked it up. He turned around and began talking to Ryan, his politician's smile still plastered across his face.
"Twice in one fight, Mr. Gilbert," he lectured, mockingly. "Not a good indication of your intelligence when that happens. It is a pity that I have to do this, but if you don't die, then how can I live? A life for a life, Mr. Gilbert – that is how this game works. Now, if you don't mind, I am going to take yours. But first, a change of scenery."
Leo grabbed Ryan's arms and began dragging him across the floor and out the door, his back facing the ground. The drizzle fell and hit the lawn quietly, the soft pitter-patter and the lush green grass belying the violent scene in progress. Leo let go of Ryan, and looked at the club.
"I can't finish you with this, can I?" he asked Ryan, holding the club in his glance. Ryan blinked slowly, dazed and confused. "Too...what's the word...primitive. Excuse me for a minute while I collect a more suitable tool to take your life. Don't go anywhere."
Leo began walking towards the side of the house to pick up a shard of glass. Much more refined.
***
Ryan felt like throwing up. His head was killing him, and a sadistic student he didn't recognise was going to stab him or slit his throat or do something to him.
There's no way in hell I'm letting this happen. I've gotta live. For Becky. For mom.
He stood up again, his steps shaky, and he watched as the boy walked slowly over to the broken window. Ryan got his balance and narrowed his eyes.
No more.
He charged at Leo and tackled him, the sound of the rain the only sound in the clearing.
***
Leo was smiling as he walked towards the window. This was all going according to plan. Well, with the exception of him jabbing me in the knee, but that was just a minor deviation from the plan.
Immediately after Leo had processed this thought, Leo was tackled to the ground by the persistent Mr. Gilbert.
Leo tried to move from the ground, but Ryan had pinned him down. Well, if anything, he's cunARGH! Ryan punched Leo in the face, breaking his train of thought.
Then Ryan punched him again.
And again.
And again.
Right, ENOUGH OF THIS.
Leo spat in Ryan's eye, temporarily distracting him. Leo used this distraction to release one of his hands and punch Ryan back in the face, the boy losing his balance and falling, releasing Leo.
At this point, Leo had forgone the possibility that this would be going ahead rationally. The only emotion coursing through his veins right now was anger – anger at his victim, who was meant to die so Leo could live. Such selfishness.
Leo grabbed Ryan by his shirt and threw him up against the wall of the cottage. He followed this up with a knee to Ryan's stomach and a punch to Ryan's jaw, and then he began talking viciously in his ear.
"What do you think you're playing at, Mr. Gilbert? The primaries are over, the votes have been counted, the people have chosen. You've lost, Mr. Gilbert, and when you lose, you're meant to bow out quietly, graciously let your opponent progress to the next stage. Instead, you persist. You persist, Mr. Gilbert, and I have had enough of it. I'm going to finish you right now, you lowly piece of shit, and then I am going to go after your precious girlfriend. Because the man who cannot acknowledge defeat graciously does not deserve happiness, Mr. Gilbert. He deserves HELL."
Leo threw him to the ground and brought his foot down Ryan's face, a sickening crunch pervading the still atmosphere as Ryan's prominent nose broke. Leo chuckled, his practised 'special-event laugh' all the more disturbing in the situation. Leo then strode over to his club, grabbed it, and walked back to Ryan. The beaten boy moaned, breathing out four words.
"Becky. Mom. I'm sorry."
The fury overtook Leo. His eyes wide, he brought his club down on Ryan's head. THUD. "SORRY?"
THUD. "SORRY?!"
THUD. "WHAT ARE YOU APOLOGISING FOR?"
THUD. "YOU'RE WORTHLESS, MR. GILBERT. JUST LIKE YOUR BECKY. JUST LIKE YOUR MOTHER."
CRACK. "YOU'RE WORTHLESS!"
CRACK. "I'M NOT LIKE YOU, RYAN! I WILL LIVE!"
CRACK. "I!"
SQUELCH. "WILL!"
SQUELCH. "LIVE!"
***
The first hit from the club had hurt. A lot.
Every hit after that – not so much.
Ryan knew he'd come to the end of the line. Being bashed to death by a twisted student wasn't exactly how he'd imagined it. But hey, Ryan thought, it's better than being stuffed in a refrigerator. Heh.
He looked up at the sky as his sight faded and his thoughts became less coherent. The rain and the sky were beautiful – dark and still. The tranquility of it all seemed to calm Ryan at this moment, when he should have been hysterical and sobbing and panicking. Instead, he lay there. He lay there, and he thought.
I'm sorry, Becky. I'm sorry, mom. I tried. Goddammit, I tried.
Some shit world, when the villain gets to win.
***
Leo swung the club a final time, and it passed cleanly through the brain matter and connected with the ground beneath, small shards of skull crunching under the black stick. He withdrew the club and looked at the mangled, destroyed body of the boy who, not long ago, had tried to save someone from Leo's hands. Leo stepped back, blood and brain dripping from the end of the stick. The drizzle continued to pitter-patter, and the first rays of sunlight began filtering through the dark clouds. The rain began washing away the blood on Leo's club, the blood on Leo's shirt and pants, the blood on the ground, the blood on Ryan. Leo's head looked up at the cottage wall, devoid of emotion, and he walked over to the wall and sat down, his back leaning on it, almost as if he was in a trance.
He watched the body he had created. The mess of brain and blood and bone he had caused directly.
Leo bowed his head and began sobbing quietly.
The rain fell.
MALE STUDENT NO. 78 – RYAN GILBERT: ELIMINATED.
"You must always be prepared - who knows who or what you could encounter in these dangerous times."
Ryan slowly began to shake the groggy feeling that had been afflicting him since the guy from under the bed had pulled his legs out from under him and sent him crashing to the floor. As he shook the feeling, he realised that he was being pulled rather roughly by the hair, through the cottage and outside.
What the hell is he planning to do? He didn't finish me off, so he must have something in mind.
Well, I'm not going out wondering.
Ryan jabbed his elbow back into Leo's knee.
***
Mr. Gilbert's fighting back was not at all something Leo had expected. He had expected him to go out quickly and easily, but it was fairly obvious to Leo, as his right leg buckled at the knee and he let go of Ryan, grunting in pain, that this would no longer be the case. He smiled, and spun around to face his would-be victim.
"Well, Mr. Gilbert, this is a surprise. I guess I was wrong about you. Well, wrong about most things about you."
Ryan clenched his fists and replied, "What weren't you wrong about then, you psychopath?"
"How you're going to die, Mr. Gilbert."
Leo lunged at him.
***
Ryan had predicted Leo would attack first – the psycho thought he had the upper hand, he wasn't expecting a fight – and dived out of the way as Leo crashed to the ground. Both boys grunted, one out of generic pain, and one due to the wind getting knocked out of him. Leo's club had flown across the lounge, but neither had noticed, having more immediate concerns – namely, each other – on their minds. Ryan pushed himself up and walked over to the winded Leo, and kicked him in the stomach. Leo groaned.
"What the fuck, man? First you try and tie someone to a bed to – hell, I don't what you were going to do, and now you attack me? What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Leo looked up at Ryan, his politician's smile creeping over his face. In any other situation, it would have been reassuring, friendly, even though it was disingenuous. Now, it was creepy, unnerving – disturbing.
"I intend to live, Mr. Gilbert," Leo replied. "Don't you?"
***
Ryan's question had amused Leo to no end. There was nothing wrong with him, in any sense of the word. He was merely adapting to a situation that others – including Mr. Gilbert, it would appear – were too slow to accept. There was no feasible way that they would all live, short of several platoons of Marines storming the island. So, applying logic, Leo had reasoned someone must live.
That someone was him.
"I intend to live, Mr. Gilbert," he had replied, a smile creeping over his face. "Don't you?"
During this coffee break, Leo had regained his breath and his strength, and in one swift movement, he grabbed Ryan's ankles again and pulled him back to the ground, a loud thud echoing through the cottage. Leo jumped up, sauntered over to his club and picked it up. He turned around and began talking to Ryan, his politician's smile still plastered across his face.
"Twice in one fight, Mr. Gilbert," he lectured, mockingly. "Not a good indication of your intelligence when that happens. It is a pity that I have to do this, but if you don't die, then how can I live? A life for a life, Mr. Gilbert – that is how this game works. Now, if you don't mind, I am going to take yours. But first, a change of scenery."
Leo grabbed Ryan's arms and began dragging him across the floor and out the door, his back facing the ground. The drizzle fell and hit the lawn quietly, the soft pitter-patter and the lush green grass belying the violent scene in progress. Leo let go of Ryan, and looked at the club.
"I can't finish you with this, can I?" he asked Ryan, holding the club in his glance. Ryan blinked slowly, dazed and confused. "Too...what's the word...primitive. Excuse me for a minute while I collect a more suitable tool to take your life. Don't go anywhere."
Leo began walking towards the side of the house to pick up a shard of glass. Much more refined.
***
Ryan felt like throwing up. His head was killing him, and a sadistic student he didn't recognise was going to stab him or slit his throat or do something to him.
There's no way in hell I'm letting this happen. I've gotta live. For Becky. For mom.
He stood up again, his steps shaky, and he watched as the boy walked slowly over to the broken window. Ryan got his balance and narrowed his eyes.
No more.
He charged at Leo and tackled him, the sound of the rain the only sound in the clearing.
***
Leo was smiling as he walked towards the window. This was all going according to plan. Well, with the exception of him jabbing me in the knee, but that was just a minor deviation from the plan.
Immediately after Leo had processed this thought, Leo was tackled to the ground by the persistent Mr. Gilbert.
Leo tried to move from the ground, but Ryan had pinned him down. Well, if anything, he's cunARGH! Ryan punched Leo in the face, breaking his train of thought.
Then Ryan punched him again.
And again.
And again.
Right, ENOUGH OF THIS.
Leo spat in Ryan's eye, temporarily distracting him. Leo used this distraction to release one of his hands and punch Ryan back in the face, the boy losing his balance and falling, releasing Leo.
At this point, Leo had forgone the possibility that this would be going ahead rationally. The only emotion coursing through his veins right now was anger – anger at his victim, who was meant to die so Leo could live. Such selfishness.
Leo grabbed Ryan by his shirt and threw him up against the wall of the cottage. He followed this up with a knee to Ryan's stomach and a punch to Ryan's jaw, and then he began talking viciously in his ear.
"What do you think you're playing at, Mr. Gilbert? The primaries are over, the votes have been counted, the people have chosen. You've lost, Mr. Gilbert, and when you lose, you're meant to bow out quietly, graciously let your opponent progress to the next stage. Instead, you persist. You persist, Mr. Gilbert, and I have had enough of it. I'm going to finish you right now, you lowly piece of shit, and then I am going to go after your precious girlfriend. Because the man who cannot acknowledge defeat graciously does not deserve happiness, Mr. Gilbert. He deserves HELL."
Leo threw him to the ground and brought his foot down Ryan's face, a sickening crunch pervading the still atmosphere as Ryan's prominent nose broke. Leo chuckled, his practised 'special-event laugh' all the more disturbing in the situation. Leo then strode over to his club, grabbed it, and walked back to Ryan. The beaten boy moaned, breathing out four words.
"Becky. Mom. I'm sorry."
The fury overtook Leo. His eyes wide, he brought his club down on Ryan's head. THUD. "SORRY?"
THUD. "SORRY?!"
THUD. "WHAT ARE YOU APOLOGISING FOR?"
THUD. "YOU'RE WORTHLESS, MR. GILBERT. JUST LIKE YOUR BECKY. JUST LIKE YOUR MOTHER."
CRACK. "YOU'RE WORTHLESS!"
CRACK. "I'M NOT LIKE YOU, RYAN! I WILL LIVE!"
CRACK. "I!"
SQUELCH. "WILL!"
SQUELCH. "LIVE!"
***
The first hit from the club had hurt. A lot.
Every hit after that – not so much.
Ryan knew he'd come to the end of the line. Being bashed to death by a twisted student wasn't exactly how he'd imagined it. But hey, Ryan thought, it's better than being stuffed in a refrigerator. Heh.
He looked up at the sky as his sight faded and his thoughts became less coherent. The rain and the sky were beautiful – dark and still. The tranquility of it all seemed to calm Ryan at this moment, when he should have been hysterical and sobbing and panicking. Instead, he lay there. He lay there, and he thought.
I'm sorry, Becky. I'm sorry, mom. I tried. Goddammit, I tried.
Some shit world, when the villain gets to win.
***
Leo swung the club a final time, and it passed cleanly through the brain matter and connected with the ground beneath, small shards of skull crunching under the black stick. He withdrew the club and looked at the mangled, destroyed body of the boy who, not long ago, had tried to save someone from Leo's hands. Leo stepped back, blood and brain dripping from the end of the stick. The drizzle continued to pitter-patter, and the first rays of sunlight began filtering through the dark clouds. The rain began washing away the blood on Leo's club, the blood on Leo's shirt and pants, the blood on the ground, the blood on Ryan. Leo's head looked up at the cottage wall, devoid of emotion, and he walked over to the wall and sat down, his back leaning on it, almost as if he was in a trance.
He watched the body he had created. The mess of brain and blood and bone he had caused directly.
Leo bowed his head and began sobbing quietly.
The rain fell.
MALE STUDENT NO. 78 – RYAN GILBERT: ELIMINATED.
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Raven woke up slowly, and it was a short while before his mind registered where he was. He was lying on a bed inside some sort of building... he also felt a good amount of pain in the back of his head.
He was probably in the cottage, but what had happened to the other boy? Lying down and resting while there was someone else in the area sounded like a really bad idea. Had Raven killed the boy who was here? No, he would have remembered doing something like that. The pain in his head was really distracting. He tried moving his arm to check the affected area, but his arm wouldn't move. By turning his head slightly, he could see his arms. They were tied to the bed.
Obviously, he'd been subdued somehow. Probably hit in the head with something, since that would make the most sense. Then that someone had put him in the bed and tied him down. Simple enough... but where were the other people? There'd been the boy who was in the room before Raven had found the cottage, and one of the last things Raven could remember was hearing somebody else out in one of the other rooms of the cottage. As far as Raven could tell, neither person was in the room currently.
Whoever tied his wrists did a good job on the knots. Raven couldn't slip his hands out of the flax binding him to the bed. His feet were secured likewise to the other end of the bed, and impossible for him to do anything with. Nothing in the room was close enough for him to use to aid himself (not like he would be able to do much with his hands tied, anyway). Was he completely helpless?
Once again, Raven tried pulling against the flax binding his wrists. The struggling didn't do anything, naturally, but there wasn't really anything else for him to do. His wrists felt a little sore from where they were tied, so he stretched out his arms to release some of the pressure on them. His fingertips touched something hard.
Despite the pain in the back of his head, Raven craned his neck to see what he'd felt. He managed to resist the pain long enough to get a slight glimpse- it was only the frame of the bed. Nothing useful, nothing informative, nothing interesting.
The frame of the bed...
Almost immediately, Raven got back to work. He obviously wasn't going to free his wrists, and his ankles were right out. His captor had been too thorough for him to escape that way... but they had left another way open. The fact that he was still alive was a good indicator that whoever it was that had attacked him had been interrupted before they could finish the job. They hadn't been able to finish binding him all the way. The knots were tight, but there was enough slack in the ropes to allow Raven to reach the frame. If only he could find where the knots holding the flax to the bed were...
It was hard going, trying to untie the ropes when he could only use one hand effectively at a time. In addition, the knots were even tighter from Raven's futile struggling, and were practically impossible to undo. More often than not, he found himself trying to tear away individual fibers of flax rather than actually bothering with the knot. His fingertips were raw and sore from working, and his neck was stiff from straining to see what he was doing. The pain was worth it once he managed to undo the first tie, though.
With his hands free, it was much easier to undo the knots holding his feet. Sore just about everywhere on his body, he nearly fell over the first time he tried to stand, and was only able to save himself by leaning on the bed for support.
How long did he have? Someone would probably be back soon, and Raven wasn't really feeling up to a fight at the moment. He didn't see anything in the room that would make a good weapon, so as soon as he could manage on his own he staggered out the door and back into the main room of the cottage.
He was probably in the cottage, but what had happened to the other boy? Lying down and resting while there was someone else in the area sounded like a really bad idea. Had Raven killed the boy who was here? No, he would have remembered doing something like that. The pain in his head was really distracting. He tried moving his arm to check the affected area, but his arm wouldn't move. By turning his head slightly, he could see his arms. They were tied to the bed.
Obviously, he'd been subdued somehow. Probably hit in the head with something, since that would make the most sense. Then that someone had put him in the bed and tied him down. Simple enough... but where were the other people? There'd been the boy who was in the room before Raven had found the cottage, and one of the last things Raven could remember was hearing somebody else out in one of the other rooms of the cottage. As far as Raven could tell, neither person was in the room currently.
Whoever tied his wrists did a good job on the knots. Raven couldn't slip his hands out of the flax binding him to the bed. His feet were secured likewise to the other end of the bed, and impossible for him to do anything with. Nothing in the room was close enough for him to use to aid himself (not like he would be able to do much with his hands tied, anyway). Was he completely helpless?
Once again, Raven tried pulling against the flax binding his wrists. The struggling didn't do anything, naturally, but there wasn't really anything else for him to do. His wrists felt a little sore from where they were tied, so he stretched out his arms to release some of the pressure on them. His fingertips touched something hard.
Despite the pain in the back of his head, Raven craned his neck to see what he'd felt. He managed to resist the pain long enough to get a slight glimpse- it was only the frame of the bed. Nothing useful, nothing informative, nothing interesting.
The frame of the bed...
Almost immediately, Raven got back to work. He obviously wasn't going to free his wrists, and his ankles were right out. His captor had been too thorough for him to escape that way... but they had left another way open. The fact that he was still alive was a good indicator that whoever it was that had attacked him had been interrupted before they could finish the job. They hadn't been able to finish binding him all the way. The knots were tight, but there was enough slack in the ropes to allow Raven to reach the frame. If only he could find where the knots holding the flax to the bed were...
It was hard going, trying to untie the ropes when he could only use one hand effectively at a time. In addition, the knots were even tighter from Raven's futile struggling, and were practically impossible to undo. More often than not, he found himself trying to tear away individual fibers of flax rather than actually bothering with the knot. His fingertips were raw and sore from working, and his neck was stiff from straining to see what he was doing. The pain was worth it once he managed to undo the first tie, though.
With his hands free, it was much easier to undo the knots holding his feet. Sore just about everywhere on his body, he nearly fell over the first time he tried to stand, and was only able to save himself by leaning on the bed for support.
How long did he have? Someone would probably be back soon, and Raven wasn't really feeling up to a fight at the moment. He didn't see anything in the room that would make a good weapon, so as soon as he could manage on his own he staggered out the door and back into the main room of the cottage.
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Pigeon Army†
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The rain fell.
Leo had stopped sobbing about a minute after starting, and had reverted to staring stony-eyed at the battered corpse of Ryan Gilbert, a million thoughts running through his head. Thoughts about the kill. Thoughts about Ryan. Thoughts about the game. Thoughts about home. Thoughts about his family.
Leo had come to terms with the bad way he'd left his mother on his first day on the island.
Well, at least, he thought he had.
After beating his hands against the cave wall in the quarry for a bit, he had pulled himself together and resolved to get home. Not because of his family - he had resigned himself to the fact that he needed to do things that would make his family disown him if he was to continue living. However, now, one argument with his mother kept floating in and out of his subconscious, snatches coming and going like wisps of smoke.
Leo stared intently at the dead body.
So this is it. I get to live, but I won't get to have a life. If I live, I'll be ostracized. Shunned. Struck out by everyone.
The teachers. The politicians. The media. The relatives. The family. Mom. Dad. Felicity.
The string of names had set Leo on a stream of consciousness that, in seconds, would bring him back to a real world.
The students. The killers. The survivors. The killed. Ryan. Becky. Bobby. Adam -both of them. Maxie. Kathleen. Cara. Eris. Eicca. Nick. Jeff. Jessa. Raven.
Raven...
Leo's head snapped straight.
"Raven."
Leo had completely forgotten about the expendable loner he had tied to the bed. He had been too lost in his own muddled thoughts, his own mix-and-match emotions. That wasn't a very smart move, Leo. You could have been killed. You would have deserved it, too, letting your guard down like that. Play it smart, Leo, not by heart.
Leo got up, picked up his club from his side, and walked over to the broken window. He peered inside the bedroom, only to see the flax had been broken through. Why do they always have to challenge me? Sorry, sorry people, all of them.
Leo noted the impression on the bed was still fresh with Raven's outline. Well, it would appear our little friend is still in the vicinity.
Smiling his politician's smile, Leo walked around to the front door of the cottage and stepped into the main room.
"Ah, Mr. Lawrence. Going somewhere? The party has only just begun - you can't leave immediately after checking your coat."
He patted the heavy end of his club, wet with rain and remnants of Ryan's brain matter.
"It's not...polite."
Leo had stopped sobbing about a minute after starting, and had reverted to staring stony-eyed at the battered corpse of Ryan Gilbert, a million thoughts running through his head. Thoughts about the kill. Thoughts about Ryan. Thoughts about the game. Thoughts about home. Thoughts about his family.
Leo had come to terms with the bad way he'd left his mother on his first day on the island.
Well, at least, he thought he had.
After beating his hands against the cave wall in the quarry for a bit, he had pulled himself together and resolved to get home. Not because of his family - he had resigned himself to the fact that he needed to do things that would make his family disown him if he was to continue living. However, now, one argument with his mother kept floating in and out of his subconscious, snatches coming and going like wisps of smoke.
Leo stared intently at the dead body.
So this is it. I get to live, but I won't get to have a life. If I live, I'll be ostracized. Shunned. Struck out by everyone.
The teachers. The politicians. The media. The relatives. The family. Mom. Dad. Felicity.
The string of names had set Leo on a stream of consciousness that, in seconds, would bring him back to a real world.
The students. The killers. The survivors. The killed. Ryan. Becky. Bobby. Adam -both of them. Maxie. Kathleen. Cara. Eris. Eicca. Nick. Jeff. Jessa. Raven.
Raven...
Leo's head snapped straight.
"Raven."
Leo had completely forgotten about the expendable loner he had tied to the bed. He had been too lost in his own muddled thoughts, his own mix-and-match emotions. That wasn't a very smart move, Leo. You could have been killed. You would have deserved it, too, letting your guard down like that. Play it smart, Leo, not by heart.
Leo got up, picked up his club from his side, and walked over to the broken window. He peered inside the bedroom, only to see the flax had been broken through. Why do they always have to challenge me? Sorry, sorry people, all of them.
Leo noted the impression on the bed was still fresh with Raven's outline. Well, it would appear our little friend is still in the vicinity.
Smiling his politician's smile, Leo walked around to the front door of the cottage and stepped into the main room.
"Ah, Mr. Lawrence. Going somewhere? The party has only just begun - you can't leave immediately after checking your coat."
He patted the heavy end of his club, wet with rain and remnants of Ryan's brain matter.
"It's not...polite."
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"Ah, Mr. Lawrence. Going somewhere? The party has only just begun - you can't leave immediately after checking your coat."
It was the boy who'd been in the cottage when Raven first arrived, naturally. He wasn't attacking yet, but it would be hard to try to escape from the cottage while this boy was standing in the doorway with his club.
His club... the pain in Raven's head was really distracting. Leo was probably the person who'd knocked Raven out in the first place, since he was in the right spot at the right time to do so, and he had a weapon that seemed likely for such an act.
"It's not...polite."
There was obviously no intent to be polite here. Polite people don't knock out other people with clubs and tie them to beds. At least, Raven wouldn't. No, the only polite way to kill someone was to do so quickly, so that they wouldn't suffer before they died.
Come to think of it, people probably wouldn't feel much after a few swings of a club, but Raven didn't particularly feel like finding out whether this was true or not. He stepped forward, making sure his hand was where he could grab his fork at a moment's notice.
"I.."
It felt as though the room was spinning. Raven stumbled over to the wall, using it as a support to keep himself from falling to the ground.
Well, this can't be very good.
It was the boy who'd been in the cottage when Raven first arrived, naturally. He wasn't attacking yet, but it would be hard to try to escape from the cottage while this boy was standing in the doorway with his club.
His club... the pain in Raven's head was really distracting. Leo was probably the person who'd knocked Raven out in the first place, since he was in the right spot at the right time to do so, and he had a weapon that seemed likely for such an act.
"It's not...polite."
There was obviously no intent to be polite here. Polite people don't knock out other people with clubs and tie them to beds. At least, Raven wouldn't. No, the only polite way to kill someone was to do so quickly, so that they wouldn't suffer before they died.
Come to think of it, people probably wouldn't feel much after a few swings of a club, but Raven didn't particularly feel like finding out whether this was true or not. He stepped forward, making sure his hand was where he could grab his fork at a moment's notice.
"I.."
It felt as though the room was spinning. Raven stumbled over to the wall, using it as a support to keep himself from falling to the ground.
Well, this can't be very good.
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Pigeon Army†
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"I.."
Leo watched Raven intently. Raven's hand had moved slowly towards something out of Leo's eyeshot, and Leo frowned.
Mr. Lawrence had a weapon. Silly me, not checking for it. Oh well.
The boy took a step forward, and then moved over to the wall in what could be described as a mix of a stagger and a fall. He did not look in the best condition, but Leo wasn't incredibly fussed by this. He walked right up to Leo, his face millimetres away from Raven's.
"Mr. Lawrence, what you're experiencing are probably the effects of severe concussion. Dizziness is one of the symptoms. You will probably also experience headaches, vomiting, nausea, impaired motor co-ordination, light sensitivity, blurred vision, tinnitus or confusion. You're not going anywhere fast anytime soon, Mr. Lawrence."
Leo stepped back and walked off to the bedroom to collect a large shard of glass. I am not making the same mistake I made with Mr. Gilbert.
Leo watched Raven intently. Raven's hand had moved slowly towards something out of Leo's eyeshot, and Leo frowned.
Mr. Lawrence had a weapon. Silly me, not checking for it. Oh well.
The boy took a step forward, and then moved over to the wall in what could be described as a mix of a stagger and a fall. He did not look in the best condition, but Leo wasn't incredibly fussed by this. He walked right up to Leo, his face millimetres away from Raven's.
"Mr. Lawrence, what you're experiencing are probably the effects of severe concussion. Dizziness is one of the symptoms. You will probably also experience headaches, vomiting, nausea, impaired motor co-ordination, light sensitivity, blurred vision, tinnitus or confusion. You're not going anywhere fast anytime soon, Mr. Lawrence."
Leo stepped back and walked off to the bedroom to collect a large shard of glass. I am not making the same mistake I made with Mr. Gilbert.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Pigeon Army. 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.