"If I ever try to play this game in the traditional way, then I'm desperate. This is not desperation," Naomi said sternly.
That wasn't entirely true. She was desperate for anything that would lead them to escape. Anything that would grant them victory over these terrorists. But true desperation was forsaking integrity and reducing herself to the level of the classmates like Theodore and Hansel and Iselle and anyone else who chose to bend to the terrorist's will. She wasn't like that.
The other two walked out. Naomi made to follow, but she stopped and looked around them. The apartment complexes were a large area. It could take hours to search if they traveled together as a bunch. Safety was in numbers, but it wasn't conductive to speed. And time was of the essence. Naomi weighed the pros and cons in her mind, and since neither of her allies had a weapon good enough to repel any substantial hostile activity, it was unlikely that being in a group would equal safety.
Naomi took a few steps after the others and said, "We split up, we'll cover the building much faster. Time's of the essence. If anyone appears that seems hostile... shout or scream as loudly as you can. That'll be heard through the whole building. Then run. Meet at the entrance in... fifteen minutes."
Without waiting for a reply, she returned to the room. She picked up her bag, shoving the map back inside it and taking out the ball and chain. It couldn't hurt to be prepared.
She headed towards the next apartment, entered it and started to ransack the place with much less care than she had last night. What did it matter if she broke a few things on the way? If they were useless, it didn't matter.
Big Stick Ideology
(Private. Content warning: Extreme violence)
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ViolentMedic
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Aileen had a bad feeling about splitting up. Because that is exactly how people die in horror movies. Then again, she was not in a horror movie. She figured she could survive on her own. If somebody attacked, she would scream - and boy, she could scream - and fight like a warrior. Not like any of these pussies who died on day one. No, she would not die. Even if there is no escape. She would win, even if that means that...
"Owen, don't die.
...Naomi, you neither."
She stormed off, only briefly halted by a rogue, tiny piece of wood on the floor. She stumbled on it, but then sent it flying with a kick, cursing its existence with a shouted "Begone!". After a few more steps she remembered to take her bag with her and returned to the room to pick it up.
Off to exploring long-forgotten homes.
-
Aileen was a bit on the edge, to put it politely. For a few hours, the world seemed okay. Maybe it was because some part of her did believe in the escape after all. And now the illusion was shattered. Naomi's fault, Aileen thought. She was the one who pretty much confirmed that everyone will die. No wait, she was the one who's idea was all this escape shit. Yes, and she implanted hope into Aileen, maybe because Naomi thought that this would make Aileen trust her. Well, fuck her! She's playing with Aileen's emotions like she's some toy. Fuck her! Because Aileen's rage is all Naomi's fault!
Needless to say, Aileen was not particulary efficient with exploring 'her' apartement when she was so busy using Naomi as a scapegoat.
"Owen, don't die.
...Naomi, you neither."
She stormed off, only briefly halted by a rogue, tiny piece of wood on the floor. She stumbled on it, but then sent it flying with a kick, cursing its existence with a shouted "Begone!". After a few more steps she remembered to take her bag with her and returned to the room to pick it up.
Off to exploring long-forgotten homes.
-
Aileen was a bit on the edge, to put it politely. For a few hours, the world seemed okay. Maybe it was because some part of her did believe in the escape after all. And now the illusion was shattered. Naomi's fault, Aileen thought. She was the one who pretty much confirmed that everyone will die. No wait, she was the one who's idea was all this escape shit. Yes, and she implanted hope into Aileen, maybe because Naomi thought that this would make Aileen trust her. Well, fuck her! She's playing with Aileen's emotions like she's some toy. Fuck her! Because Aileen's rage is all Naomi's fault!
Needless to say, Aileen was not particulary efficient with exploring 'her' apartement when she was so busy using Naomi as a scapegoat.
Gervais Frans Lambotte 
Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern
||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
Owen turned and looked at Naomi with some concern as she followed him and Aileen out of the room. They were going to split up? Was that wise? The apartment buildings were pretty big, not island-huge, not impossible to find each other in, but still, pretty damn big. And certainly big enough to serve as the hiding place for any would-be players.
He wasn't given a chance to reply though. Naomi walked back into the room, and Aileen didn't seem to have any arguments. Owen was still incredibly uncertain about the benefits of splitting up, because as soon as they did so, all of their strength went with it.
Naomi returned from their room with her bag, and what looked like a spike-less morning star. So, that was what she'd picked up back at the Zen Garden, huh? At least she had a weapon, even if it did look horribly unwieldy and difficult to use. And some part of Owen knew that they had to take some risks if they wanted to stand a chance of escaping. If they weren't all willing to put part of themselves on the line, then they would get nowhere.
Aileen went one way, Naomi the other. Pausing only to grab his scalpel, which he'd almost forgotten, Owen followed Aileen for a few feet, before heading his own way, leaving two words in his wake.
"Stay safe..."
He wasn't given a chance to reply though. Naomi walked back into the room, and Aileen didn't seem to have any arguments. Owen was still incredibly uncertain about the benefits of splitting up, because as soon as they did so, all of their strength went with it.
Naomi returned from their room with her bag, and what looked like a spike-less morning star. So, that was what she'd picked up back at the Zen Garden, huh? At least she had a weapon, even if it did look horribly unwieldy and difficult to use. And some part of Owen knew that they had to take some risks if they wanted to stand a chance of escaping. If they weren't all willing to put part of themselves on the line, then they would get nowhere.
Aileen went one way, Naomi the other. Pausing only to grab his scalpel, which he'd almost forgotten, Owen followed Aileen for a few feet, before heading his own way, leaving two words in his wake.
"Stay safe..."
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
** Summer Simms, female no. 21, continued from... Right Down The Line, It's Been You And Me
People were dead and Summer couldn't force herself to be surprised. Any trust or faith she'd had in the unity of the student body or their motivations was crushed the night before and left rotting in the tent. Deaths and killing were just the next logical step. There was no trusting anyone anymore, not where they were, not when people were given a blank check to do whatever they wanted. She tried feeling sad for the kids that died, thought of them back when they were back in Aurora and breathing, but when it came down to it, Summer wondered if they were better off. They wouldn't have to try and survive and get so close just to die at the end, or face having friends betray them. In a way, they got to die with some kind of blissful ignorance. They wouldn't have to come to terms with their friends turning into animals. Part of her wished she'd be given the same opportunity.
Her spear dragged across the loose gravel of the sidewalk, kicking up some dust in its wake. She'd been walking since she'd left the woods, barely stopping to catch her breath until she'd reached the city. If she had it her way, she'd never have to go back in there, not back into that nightmare. Just looking at the hills in the distance made her stomach turn. The city was better, less open. It seemed familiar, almost nostalgic and comforting, like being back in Seattle. A really empty Seattle. She hadn't realized how much she missed the sound of cars driving or people talking. It was quiet. Lonely.
Every now and then, Summer would catch a camera focusing on her. It made her feel a little safer, in a way, like she wasn't truly alone as long as there were people watching her. It was like she had a friend. Or friends, as the case was. There weren't friends behind the cameras, she tried telling herself. It was the people who kidnapped them, Mister Danya and his friends. They were terrible people who wanted to watch her die. They voted for their favorites, rewarded people like Katarina for being gruesome. It was wrong and awful and disgusting and she couldn't stop herself from being jealous. There was something wrong with her. She knew in the rational part of her mind that being jealous that she wasn't some sick terrorists favorite was ridiculous, but that part of her that needed someone to like her and tell her how special she was persisted. She wanted the cameras on her, wanted to feel like people were with her and liked her. It was the only thing that had made her feel safe since parting with Brandon.
She didn't want to be lonely.
As Summer approached the apartments, she caught sight of a body in the courtyard between, halfway hidden by some overgrown bushes. Immediately, she averted her eyes, as if pretending that she hadn't seen it would make it go away. She didn't know who it was, nor did she want to, just one of the names from earlier in the day. It was easier if she didn't have to acknowledge it.
Summer cautiously entered the building, its old door stick slightly as she did. She wanted a nice, enclosed space to sleep, though she didn't expect sleep would come easy after everything. Cameras were in here, too, watching her every movement, beckoning her deeper into the building. Emboldened, she made her way up a flight of stairs, exiting at the second floor and moving down the hallway. Wallpaper peeled from the walls, pocketed with water damage and old age. It was scary, but as long as the cameras were around, she was safe, she could just scream and someone would come help her. The same kind of safety you feel when you're little and your parents are just a room away to protect you from the boogie man.
They'd watch over her, just like little guardian angels.
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ViolentMedic
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Useless... useless... useless...
Naomi shoved aside anything that didn't seem like it would help. The exception was anything small enough to fit through the opening of one of the glass bottles she'd found the previous day. She still needed string, but once she found that she could make that tripwire. She still needed to be careful. She gave the bottle a shake and listened to the random items inside clink about. Good. Good enough. At least until she found the last working component. It didn't help escape, but safety was still... would always be a concern.
No string in this room, though. Ridiculous. What kind of home didn't have string?
She left the apartment, bottle tucked in the crook of her arm and still clinging onto the meteor hammer, only to see someone in the hallway. Naomi took a couple of instinctive steps back and opened her mouth to yell for the others before realising it was just Summer.
"Summer. ...You startled me." Naomi eyed the large weapon Summer was carrying. "...Suppose I don't have to ask what your weapon is."
Naomi shoved aside anything that didn't seem like it would help. The exception was anything small enough to fit through the opening of one of the glass bottles she'd found the previous day. She still needed string, but once she found that she could make that tripwire. She still needed to be careful. She gave the bottle a shake and listened to the random items inside clink about. Good. Good enough. At least until she found the last working component. It didn't help escape, but safety was still... would always be a concern.
No string in this room, though. Ridiculous. What kind of home didn't have string?
She left the apartment, bottle tucked in the crook of her arm and still clinging onto the meteor hammer, only to see someone in the hallway. Naomi took a couple of instinctive steps back and opened her mouth to yell for the others before realising it was just Summer.
"Summer. ...You startled me." Naomi eyed the large weapon Summer was carrying. "...Suppose I don't have to ask what your weapon is."
Running into Naomi straight off the heels of trauma was just salt in the wound. It was almost poetic in a way, meeting the one person that had managed to take everything Summer had ever wanted, managed to single handedly make her life in Aurora hell. All without even knowing it. She was student body president. She'd fooled everyone into believing she was some saint descended from the heavens. And all the while, Summer had to pretend to like her or lose her standing, living some silent nightmare as she complimented Naomi, told her what a great president she'd make. All the while sitting on that hatred. All the while just wanting Naomi to disappear.
But here, they were equal. There were no student body presidents anymore. They were all just trying to make it out and because of that, they were all the same. No one person better than anyone else. They'd both lost everything they'd ever known, neither of them a chance of ever getting back home and seeing their families again or living normal lives.
The game was sick, but the game was the Great Equalizer.
So, as Naomi greeted her, Summer couldn't help but smile, the first genuine smile she'd had in a long time, gums exposed and eyes wrinkling. It was as though all the time back at Aurora didn't matter, not at that moment. For that brief moment, she'd forgotten about Brandon and what he'd taken from her, focusing just and her and Naomi.
"Hi," She responded, drawing it out in a near sing-song tone, smile still plastered brightly across her face. Her spear was still poised against her chest from when Naomi spooked her, reminded of it only when Naomi brought it to her attention. "The same goes for you, I guess," She said hastily, eager to move on to the next subject.
"What've you been up to? This sucks, huh?" She was still smiling, only vaguely aware of it being inappropriate given the subject. She wanted to hear what Naomi'd been through, every detail about her time on the island. She wanted to know that Naomi had suffered just as much as she had, wanted to hear about Naomi being betrayed in the same way she had.
They were the same now, after all.
But here, they were equal. There were no student body presidents anymore. They were all just trying to make it out and because of that, they were all the same. No one person better than anyone else. They'd both lost everything they'd ever known, neither of them a chance of ever getting back home and seeing their families again or living normal lives.
The game was sick, but the game was the Great Equalizer.
So, as Naomi greeted her, Summer couldn't help but smile, the first genuine smile she'd had in a long time, gums exposed and eyes wrinkling. It was as though all the time back at Aurora didn't matter, not at that moment. For that brief moment, she'd forgotten about Brandon and what he'd taken from her, focusing just and her and Naomi.
"Hi," She responded, drawing it out in a near sing-song tone, smile still plastered brightly across her face. Her spear was still poised against her chest from when Naomi spooked her, reminded of it only when Naomi brought it to her attention. "The same goes for you, I guess," She said hastily, eager to move on to the next subject.
"What've you been up to? This sucks, huh?" She was still smiling, only vaguely aware of it being inappropriate given the subject. She wanted to hear what Naomi'd been through, every detail about her time on the island. She wanted to know that Naomi had suffered just as much as she had, wanted to hear about Naomi being betrayed in the same way she had.
They were the same now, after all.
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ViolentMedic
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"Ah, well... found this one, actually." Naomi looked down at the weapon she was holding, frowning at the thought of Travis prancing about with her original weapon. "Travis stole my hedge trimmers. Stay away from him if you see him."
She wasn't sure what Summer was smiling about. Why would anyone smile on the island unless they were being a naive simpleton? And was there nothing else to say except 'this sucks'? That was the biggest understatement Naomi had heard in a long time. Still, at least Summer wasn't spewing out a lot of 'everyone is innocent and we should go prancing about to our classmates like they won't hurt us and treat them like they can't handle the truth' like Cammy had been. Plus, a decent weapon and Summer had a lot of pull with their classmates. Almost as much as Naomi did. Perhaps she could help.
"I'm tr--I'm finding a way off the island." Naomi had meant to say she was trying, but she wasn't going to just try. Just trying wasn't good enough. She was going to manage it. She had to manage it. "Aileen and Owen are helping, and we're gathering up everyone we can." Naomi realised, as she spoke, that she was wasting time standing here and having a nice talk when she should have still been searching. "I'm searching the building for anything useful. You're welcome to help, but we have to do it fast."
She wasn't sure what Summer was smiling about. Why would anyone smile on the island unless they were being a naive simpleton? And was there nothing else to say except 'this sucks'? That was the biggest understatement Naomi had heard in a long time. Still, at least Summer wasn't spewing out a lot of 'everyone is innocent and we should go prancing about to our classmates like they won't hurt us and treat them like they can't handle the truth' like Cammy had been. Plus, a decent weapon and Summer had a lot of pull with their classmates. Almost as much as Naomi did. Perhaps she could help.
"I'm tr--I'm finding a way off the island." Naomi had meant to say she was trying, but she wasn't going to just try. Just trying wasn't good enough. She was going to manage it. She had to manage it. "Aileen and Owen are helping, and we're gathering up everyone we can." Naomi realised, as she spoke, that she was wasting time standing here and having a nice talk when she should have still been searching. "I'm searching the building for anything useful. You're welcome to help, but we have to do it fast."
The smile was wiped clean from Summer's face, her features twisting in confusion. Her once large eyes little more than slits as she silently stared at Naomi, a hot flush rising on her face, lips parting but closing just as fast as she tried to find words. She couldn't comprehend it. They were on an island, fighting to the death, hearing about people dying, glimpsing hands of the dead poking from behind the bushes,
becoming victims of people they thought they could trust.
And even still, Naomi Bell hadn't suffered. All she wanted was to hear that Naomi Bell wasn't safe from the island. But she was. And she always would be. She was Naomi Bell, after all. Naomi Bell was made for big things, she was the person who could accomplish the impossible. If there was anyone who'd find a way to get everyone home, it was Naomi Bell. People everywhere would know her name, the hero girl that saved the seniors of Aurora High. She'd be celebrated, everyone would love her.
And once again, Summer Simms would be cast aside, forever living in her shadow.
"No," Summer said, her voice barely above a whisper as a bemused smile pulled at her lips.
They were supposed to be equals now, both suffering and dying on this island. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that she got to be everyone's hero.
A hot anger boiled in the pit of her stomach and black poked at the corners of her vision. Everything she'd hidden away, all the anger, the resentment, the hate. She didn't have to hide it anymore. The island was a blank check where she didn't have to worry about being liked or keeping up some facade. The years of kissing the ground Naomi walked on, telling her how great she was and how much she deserved everything she got. It didn't matter anymore. She could be whoever she wanted to be.
Naomi had her chance to shine.
It was Summer's turn, now.
"No," she repeated through clenched teeth, her voice stern but frantic, "You don't get to be the fucking hero anymore."
It was her turn. Everyone would know Summer Simms.
She was vaguely aware that she was crying as her delicate hands wrapped tightly around the pole of her spear, knuckles whitening and tendons bulging.
Just one thrust and the spear end was deep inside Naomi's abdomen, the popping of her skin's seal echoing throughout the pole before Summer pulled back on it, the red of Naomi's top deepening as she removed the tip of the blade.
It was her turn now.
becoming victims of people they thought they could trust.
And even still, Naomi Bell hadn't suffered. All she wanted was to hear that Naomi Bell wasn't safe from the island. But she was. And she always would be. She was Naomi Bell, after all. Naomi Bell was made for big things, she was the person who could accomplish the impossible. If there was anyone who'd find a way to get everyone home, it was Naomi Bell. People everywhere would know her name, the hero girl that saved the seniors of Aurora High. She'd be celebrated, everyone would love her.
And once again, Summer Simms would be cast aside, forever living in her shadow.
"No," Summer said, her voice barely above a whisper as a bemused smile pulled at her lips.
They were supposed to be equals now, both suffering and dying on this island. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that she got to be everyone's hero.
A hot anger boiled in the pit of her stomach and black poked at the corners of her vision. Everything she'd hidden away, all the anger, the resentment, the hate. She didn't have to hide it anymore. The island was a blank check where she didn't have to worry about being liked or keeping up some facade. The years of kissing the ground Naomi walked on, telling her how great she was and how much she deserved everything she got. It didn't matter anymore. She could be whoever she wanted to be.
Naomi had her chance to shine.
It was Summer's turn, now.
"No," she repeated through clenched teeth, her voice stern but frantic, "You don't get to be the fucking hero anymore."
It was her turn. Everyone would know Summer Simms.
She was vaguely aware that she was crying as her delicate hands wrapped tightly around the pole of her spear, knuckles whitening and tendons bulging.
Just one thrust and the spear end was deep inside Naomi's abdomen, the popping of her skin's seal echoing throughout the pole before Summer pulled back on it, the red of Naomi's top deepening as she removed the tip of the blade.
It was her turn now.
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ViolentMedic
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Naomi had no time to think. No time to yell. No time to do anything except feel a bit confused before Summer lunged.
Naomi stumbled back. The bottle she'd been holding slipped and hit the ground with a crash, but she managed to keep a hold of the ball and chain. Just barely. Her free hand automatically felt her stomach and it touched something far too soft and came away far too damp. But she didn't feel pain immediately. Her muscles contracted and it felt... strange. The confusion she'd felt when Summer started talking amplified tenfold.
Thoughts came to her. Scream for help? No breath to do it, it'd all been driven out. Run? Legs didn't feel right. Felt weak. These thoughts didn't come to her in a well-reasoned, through way like normal. They just floated by. Her brain felt numb.
Summer attacked her. Why would she do that?
Attack her back. Make her hurt. She started it. She was ruining everything.
One step forward. Two. Three. The pain hit properly. No screams came out, there was no breath for it. Just a strangled, raspy gasp. And the only thought Naomi could cling to amid the pain and shock-induced haze was 'make her hurt.' And so she kept going forward and rammed Summer with her shoulder using all the force she had.
It threw Summer off-balance and removed what little ability Naomi had to stay on her feet that she had. They both went crashing to the ground.
Naomi stumbled back. The bottle she'd been holding slipped and hit the ground with a crash, but she managed to keep a hold of the ball and chain. Just barely. Her free hand automatically felt her stomach and it touched something far too soft and came away far too damp. But she didn't feel pain immediately. Her muscles contracted and it felt... strange. The confusion she'd felt when Summer started talking amplified tenfold.
Thoughts came to her. Scream for help? No breath to do it, it'd all been driven out. Run? Legs didn't feel right. Felt weak. These thoughts didn't come to her in a well-reasoned, through way like normal. They just floated by. Her brain felt numb.
Summer attacked her. Why would she do that?
Attack her back. Make her hurt. She started it. She was ruining everything.
One step forward. Two. Three. The pain hit properly. No screams came out, there was no breath for it. Just a strangled, raspy gasp. And the only thought Naomi could cling to amid the pain and shock-induced haze was 'make her hurt.' And so she kept going forward and rammed Summer with her shoulder using all the force she had.
It threw Summer off-balance and removed what little ability Naomi had to stay on her feet that she had. They both went crashing to the ground.
Summer hit the ground hard, knocking the breath from her and sending her spear from her hands. Her skull met the floor in a violent bang, shrouding her vision in black for a brief moment as she struggled to focus. She hadn't expected Naomi to fight back, not with her wound. She'd wanted her to fall over and be gone, no muss, no fuss. She just wanted her gone.
There was blood everywhere, the fall leaving a red imprint on Summer's yellow windbreaker, smudged hand prints on her sleeves and her face where Naomi braced herself. She hadn't expected so much blood.
Naomi was positioned on top of her, half straddling her, with one knee digging into her abdomen. Had she not already been gasping and trying to find air, breathing would have been impossible. Her hands groped blindly around her, searching for her spear to no avail. She struggled beneath Naomi, tried to roll into a ball to get her breath back, legs dragging and kicking gracelessly against the carpet to try and pivot from beneath her.
Dimly, between her loss of breath and the panic sweeping through her, Summer was aware of the mace in Naomi's hands. Only dimly aware of it rocketing toward her and her own hands shooting up to protect herself before
crunch.
There was blood everywhere, the fall leaving a red imprint on Summer's yellow windbreaker, smudged hand prints on her sleeves and her face where Naomi braced herself. She hadn't expected so much blood.
Naomi was positioned on top of her, half straddling her, with one knee digging into her abdomen. Had she not already been gasping and trying to find air, breathing would have been impossible. Her hands groped blindly around her, searching for her spear to no avail. She struggled beneath Naomi, tried to roll into a ball to get her breath back, legs dragging and kicking gracelessly against the carpet to try and pivot from beneath her.
Dimly, between her loss of breath and the panic sweeping through her, Summer was aware of the mace in Naomi's hands. Only dimly aware of it rocketing toward her and her own hands shooting up to protect herself before
crunch.
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ViolentMedic
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Somehow, Naomi was on top in this fight. But there was so much blood and so much pain and every movement made it feel like her whole body was screaming. The world sounded quiet and seemed dimmer, but the fighting... Summer recoiling, the handprints, the mind-numbing pain that accompanied every movement... it was all so amplified that it felt like that fight was all that had ever existed. Naomi forgot about everything--Aileen and Owen, Miles, thoughts of escape, the knowledge that someone couldn't lose that much blood--in favor of that continuous loop of 'make her hurt.' A lot of anger, just like when she'd fired at Travis, just like when Cammy had abandoned her, but this time there was no rational thought to contain it.
She had the ball and chain, still. She didn't try to swing it like it should have been used. Instead, she just picked up one of the weights. It was a massive struggle to lift, but Naomi poured all she had into it. Then she brought it down.
Summer's hand got in the way. Even with Naomi's dimmed senses, she heard the crunch.
Good.
Naomi lifted the weight up again. Ready to bring it down again.
She had the ball and chain, still. She didn't try to swing it like it should have been used. Instead, she just picked up one of the weights. It was a massive struggle to lift, but Naomi poured all she had into it. Then she brought it down.
Summer's hand got in the way. Even with Naomi's dimmed senses, she heard the crunch.
Good.
Naomi lifted the weight up again. Ready to bring it down again.
A pained, guttural groan escaped past Summer's lips, her attempt to scream despite her lack of breath.
Naomi pulled the mace back, leaving gore in its wake. Summer's left hand took the brunt of the damage, outstretched to try and stop the ball's momentum whilst her right arm covered her face. The sight was enough to turn her stomach alone without even factoring in the pain. Her pinky finger was bent entirely backwards and flopping about loosely, a sickening purple and yellow already spreading across it. Her ring finger was no better, broken in an L-shape at the joint and bent across her middle finger, the vibrant blue nail dangling by the quick. The pain was immense, forcing Summer to cradle it as best she could against her stomach as fresh tears ran down her face. She still struggled to breathe, taking quick, sharp breaths as she tried to fill her lungs.
Naomi was going to win, just like she always did.
The mace was raised once more in her hands, poised to finish the job.
She had to make her hurt, cripple her.
Save herself.
Finally win.
Naomi's stomach was exposed, blood still seeping through the torn fabric of her shirt. The wound itself was long and thin, as per the knife at the end of her spear.
Summer acted quickly, bringing three fingers on her right hand together like a dagger and jabbing them toward Naomi's wound. She could feel the skin tearing around her fingers as they entered Naomi's stomach, greeted by the warmth of her insides. Her fingers separated, tearing and clawing at at whatever she could, aiming to hurt and disable the girl on top of her. Her face twisted a panicked raged, teeth bared and brow furrowed as she pushed deeper.
It was her turn. Naomi couldn't win. Not anymore.
Naomi pulled the mace back, leaving gore in its wake. Summer's left hand took the brunt of the damage, outstretched to try and stop the ball's momentum whilst her right arm covered her face. The sight was enough to turn her stomach alone without even factoring in the pain. Her pinky finger was bent entirely backwards and flopping about loosely, a sickening purple and yellow already spreading across it. Her ring finger was no better, broken in an L-shape at the joint and bent across her middle finger, the vibrant blue nail dangling by the quick. The pain was immense, forcing Summer to cradle it as best she could against her stomach as fresh tears ran down her face. She still struggled to breathe, taking quick, sharp breaths as she tried to fill her lungs.
Naomi was going to win, just like she always did.
The mace was raised once more in her hands, poised to finish the job.
She had to make her hurt, cripple her.
Save herself.
Finally win.
Naomi's stomach was exposed, blood still seeping through the torn fabric of her shirt. The wound itself was long and thin, as per the knife at the end of her spear.
Summer acted quickly, bringing three fingers on her right hand together like a dagger and jabbing them toward Naomi's wound. She could feel the skin tearing around her fingers as they entered Naomi's stomach, greeted by the warmth of her insides. Her fingers separated, tearing and clawing at at whatever she could, aiming to hurt and disable the girl on top of her. Her face twisted a panicked raged, teeth bared and brow furrowed as she pushed deeper.
It was her turn. Naomi couldn't win. Not anymore.
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ViolentMedic
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It hurt.
Naomi dropped the weight. She didn't hear it hit the floor.
It hurt. It hurt. It hurt it hurt it hurt no make it stop make it stop make it stop MAKE IT STOP
No shock left to dull the pain enough to fight back. Just blood and hurt and fingers where they shouldn't be. And she still couldn't scream. Summer had taken away her escape, her health and the ability to even make a noise that wasn't pathetic whimpering. She'd taken everything. Naomi collapsed to the floor, writhing and trying to curl into a ball so that she would have some mockery, heavily mirroring Summer's reactions from just a few moments ago.
I don't want this to happen I don't want this to happen no no no no nononononono
Tears and snot covered her face, and her whimpers were spliced together with bloody coughs. Red bubbles came up, frothing at the corners of her mouth. She could barely see anything except a dark, moving shape in front of her that had to be Summer.
"S-s-stop," Naomi begged, the word a barely distinguishable rasp. The only time in her memory that Naomi had ever begged.
Naomi dropped the weight. She didn't hear it hit the floor.
It hurt. It hurt. It hurt it hurt it hurt no make it stop make it stop make it stop MAKE IT STOP
No shock left to dull the pain enough to fight back. Just blood and hurt and fingers where they shouldn't be. And she still couldn't scream. Summer had taken away her escape, her health and the ability to even make a noise that wasn't pathetic whimpering. She'd taken everything. Naomi collapsed to the floor, writhing and trying to curl into a ball so that she would have some mockery, heavily mirroring Summer's reactions from just a few moments ago.
I don't want this to happen I don't want this to happen no no no no nononononono
Tears and snot covered her face, and her whimpers were spliced together with bloody coughs. Red bubbles came up, frothing at the corners of her mouth. She could barely see anything except a dark, moving shape in front of her that had to be Summer.
"S-s-stop," Naomi begged, the word a barely distinguishable rasp. The only time in her memory that Naomi had ever begged.
With Naomi off her, Summer was able to roll over, propping herself up on one elbow, left hand still clutched against her stomach as she struggled to introduce air back into her lungs. Tears still flowed freely from her eyes, taking traces of her mascara with them all the way down to her chin and landing with soft thuds against the old carpet. Her whole body was shaking violently, uncontrollably. Pain shot through her hand, dull throbbing that harmonized with the beating of her heart. She could taste blood in her mouth, bitter copper that could have belonged to either one of them.
Everything was eerily silent and far too loud at the same time. The ringing in her ears, the unphased whirring of the cameras, Naomi's whimpering behind her begging her to stop. She could feel herself biting down hard on her lip, once more flooded with the taste of copper the longer Naomi begged. Her nails dug painfully into the carpet, sinewy fibers lodging underneath.
Why should she stop?
When had Naomi ever showed her the least bit of compassion or sympathy?
For everything Summer put up with, Naomi never once cared.
But here she was, expecting the world to stop just because she asked it too.
Summer's spear lay a few feet away, wet blood still coating the tip and staining the carpet beneath it. She had to end it, do away with Naomi for good. The cameras still whirred loudly behind her, watching her as she wrapped a bloody hand around the pole, pushing her to finish the job. They wanted to see it. She was the star, now. Naomi's reign was done.
It was her turn.
This was her chance.
Summer approached Naomi's writhing figure on the ground, the tip of her spear dragging behind her and leaving a bloody trail in its wake. Her whimpering was louder, piercing her skull through the ringing in her ears. She just wanted her to shut, to stop crying. She didn't get to cry. Not after everything she put Summer through. This was everything she deserved, everything she was asking for.
Just
shut
up
She brought the scythe end of her spear down, swinging it gracelessly with one hand, no aim aside from making Naomi shut up. Her whole body moved with the spear, striking more and more the louder Naomi got, crying and begging her to stop as the sharp blade tore through her, droplets of red sticking to the walls each time she pulled the spear out. Eventually, Naomi's pleading died out, but Summer didn't stop. She could still hear her in her head, begging her to stop, could still see her on the stage back in Aurora after winning the election, could see her surrounded by people who worshiped the ground she walked on. Everything Summer wanted that Naomi took from her.
She deserved this. It was her fault.
Everything was eerily silent and far too loud at the same time. The ringing in her ears, the unphased whirring of the cameras, Naomi's whimpering behind her begging her to stop. She could feel herself biting down hard on her lip, once more flooded with the taste of copper the longer Naomi begged. Her nails dug painfully into the carpet, sinewy fibers lodging underneath.
Why should she stop?
When had Naomi ever showed her the least bit of compassion or sympathy?
For everything Summer put up with, Naomi never once cared.
But here she was, expecting the world to stop just because she asked it too.
Summer's spear lay a few feet away, wet blood still coating the tip and staining the carpet beneath it. She had to end it, do away with Naomi for good. The cameras still whirred loudly behind her, watching her as she wrapped a bloody hand around the pole, pushing her to finish the job. They wanted to see it. She was the star, now. Naomi's reign was done.
It was her turn.
This was her chance.
Summer approached Naomi's writhing figure on the ground, the tip of her spear dragging behind her and leaving a bloody trail in its wake. Her whimpering was louder, piercing her skull through the ringing in her ears. She just wanted her to shut, to stop crying. She didn't get to cry. Not after everything she put Summer through. This was everything she deserved, everything she was asking for.
Just
shut
up
She brought the scythe end of her spear down, swinging it gracelessly with one hand, no aim aside from making Naomi shut up. Her whole body moved with the spear, striking more and more the louder Naomi got, crying and begging her to stop as the sharp blade tore through her, droplets of red sticking to the walls each time she pulled the spear out. Eventually, Naomi's pleading died out, but Summer didn't stop. She could still hear her in her head, begging her to stop, could still see her on the stage back in Aurora after winning the election, could see her surrounded by people who worshiped the ground she walked on. Everything Summer wanted that Naomi took from her.
She deserved this. It was her fault.
-
ViolentMedic
- Posts: 813
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 7:53 am
Soft words didn't do anything. All that happened was that the spear plunged into Naomi again and again. All she could do was curl up and sob, the crying only interrupted by little choking noises whenever a new wound was made. Even so, she still tried to say 'stop.'
Words had always helped before. Words had always had some sort of effect when Naomi said them. Sometimes the effect was negative, like when she'd been honest with Cammy and her retaliation had been to shout and leave, but things still happened. But now she said the first word in her life that had really mattered, and it had been ignored.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. She was meant to escape. She was meant to rescue everyone. She was meant to become president and to fix the world because no-one else was doing it right. And now all she could do was curl up, still trying to repeat 'stop.' Stop, stop, stop. The words weren't even understandable any more. Just gibberish interspersed with blubbering and whimpers of pain.
Stop.
Stop.
Stop.
Naomi couldn't see anything any more. All she could hear was the squelchy noises that the spear made as it kept coming down.
Stop.
Stop
Please.
It was still going when everything went black.
G003: NAOMI BELL – DECEASED
Words had always helped before. Words had always had some sort of effect when Naomi said them. Sometimes the effect was negative, like when she'd been honest with Cammy and her retaliation had been to shout and leave, but things still happened. But now she said the first word in her life that had really mattered, and it had been ignored.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. She was meant to escape. She was meant to rescue everyone. She was meant to become president and to fix the world because no-one else was doing it right. And now all she could do was curl up, still trying to repeat 'stop.' Stop, stop, stop. The words weren't even understandable any more. Just gibberish interspersed with blubbering and whimpers of pain.
Stop.
Stop.
Stop.
Naomi couldn't see anything any more. All she could hear was the squelchy noises that the spear made as it kept coming down.
Stop.
Stop
Please.
It was still going when everything went black.
G003: NAOMI BELL – DECEASED