(Darren Fox continued from Adam, Eve and Steve.)
Darren thought he could get used to them. They will go away, he told himself. He chose to believe that.
You never get used to nightmares, especially the recurring ones that are inflicted days upon weeks upon months. No matter how often they come, you are almost never prepared for them. They just happen.
Blood raining from the sky, burning his face and arms and everything else. The garden of bodies expanded into the distance, the cadavers of people he knew and loved used as fertilizer for the grass beneath his feet. For a time he thought Kelly's body shocked him the most. He really liked Kelly. But, no, it was actually Phoebe that always burrowed into his mind. Kelly had the luxury of still having a body to attach her mutilated head. Phoebe did not have that luxury. Always on a pike, always with her mouth hanging wide open. Always stained with blood.
The worst part was that he always approached her last. Every time her eyes shot open, bloodshot and dilated, and she'd twist her neck in order to stare into his very soul. That's when she'd start screaming. No, not a scream, a screech. Like a train braking hard.
He woke up screaming every time. One night, when he was alone, he fell asleep against a tree. It was raining when he woke up. He curled up into a ball and cried for god knows how long, his cheek pressed into the wet grass beneath him.
Darren Fox stopped sleeping after the sixth day. What could possibly be worse than having nightmares?
The things you see and hear when you don't sleep.
That's why Darren Fox found himself standing on top of a shipping container in an abandoned harbor. Harbor being the only word he could come up with. Darren found himself in a perpetual state of exhaustion; his eyes were ready to close and never open again, but he outright refused to give his body the rest it begged for.
Three days? Four days? Darren could not imagine how much time he wasted, lost beyond belief. If he had his father's watch, the family heirloom that was passed on by generation, maybe he could have some basis to work off of.
It didn't matter though. He could see the ocean. Off in the distance, the beach. He wondered if he could make it over there. Do something he always wished he could.
Instead, he looked down, at the concrete below him. He balled his hands into his hoodie. When he sighed, it came out as a stuttering gasp.
The drop seemed pretty steep. Darren did not have a ruler but it had to be twice his height.
He wondered if it was high enough.
If he jumped off, there was a chance he'd just land on his face or even his back.
Maybe if he landed on his head.
The scariest thing was that he didn't realize how comfortable these thoughts were. Like the Paris Metro, they felt so natural that he found the lack of an urge to go through with it more disturbing than the urge itself.
Darren sat at the edge of the shipping container, his feet dangling over the side.
... he really screwed up, didn't he?
Last Stop Château de Vincennes
two 18teen year old students are entering an abonend harber
Last Stop Château de Vincennes
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((Marcus Leung: B047 - V5 - Continued From Adam & Eve & Steve))
It had been two whole days of nothing since Marcus left the altar. No answers, no action, no questions, no reflection. Marcus had been peachy keen this entire time so far. He was even wearing clean clothes. Walking along the island had given him an outlet. There was plenty of island to tread that he had not seen yet.
Marcus took off his cap for a short moment and placed it over his heart as he stared down at the ground. So many had gone, so many never coming back. It was an odd thing to think about really. He thought he should have probably been like one of them some time ago. Not because he thought he should die in place of someone else, he wasn't quite that narcissistic. But he had thought of ending it all a few times. Not in an act of despair or some kind of desperation for peace, but out of some pragmatic idea. It was always countered out by one fact he found himself unable to argue with: he could easily be someone else's kill off the island. That was a nice thought. Helping someone.
He wondered again if he could reverse the positions, being the final two, squaring off, both of them having the same idea. He'd of course then kill the other person. Bringing others happiness brought some of his own. It'd be a terrible thing, to make someone who did not want to live any longer not die. He was mostly ambivalent to the whole concept. Die, not die...it was all a matter of chance and circumstance. Yet...he also knew he was scared to kill himself. It would solve so many of his own problems. But who cares about that? There were far more people who had it worse than he did.
He used to think that was an awful excuse to make someone feel better, to just up and say someone had it worse then they did, true as it may be. It left people feeling invalidated and worthless. But applying it to himself...it actually made him feel better. Well, not better, but it stopped some of the pain. Removing your own pain as you take comfort in that others had a far more bitter experience...would that make him a sadist? A hypocrite?
He wasn't quite sure.
As Marcus walked through a storage yard, he spotted a familiar head of red hair upon a stack of crates, he didn't really care either. He raised his hand and waved his cap at Darren, yelling out to catch his attention.
It had been two whole days of nothing since Marcus left the altar. No answers, no action, no questions, no reflection. Marcus had been peachy keen this entire time so far. He was even wearing clean clothes. Walking along the island had given him an outlet. There was plenty of island to tread that he had not seen yet.
Marcus took off his cap for a short moment and placed it over his heart as he stared down at the ground. So many had gone, so many never coming back. It was an odd thing to think about really. He thought he should have probably been like one of them some time ago. Not because he thought he should die in place of someone else, he wasn't quite that narcissistic. But he had thought of ending it all a few times. Not in an act of despair or some kind of desperation for peace, but out of some pragmatic idea. It was always countered out by one fact he found himself unable to argue with: he could easily be someone else's kill off the island. That was a nice thought. Helping someone.
He wondered again if he could reverse the positions, being the final two, squaring off, both of them having the same idea. He'd of course then kill the other person. Bringing others happiness brought some of his own. It'd be a terrible thing, to make someone who did not want to live any longer not die. He was mostly ambivalent to the whole concept. Die, not die...it was all a matter of chance and circumstance. Yet...he also knew he was scared to kill himself. It would solve so many of his own problems. But who cares about that? There were far more people who had it worse than he did.
He used to think that was an awful excuse to make someone feel better, to just up and say someone had it worse then they did, true as it may be. It left people feeling invalidated and worthless. But applying it to himself...it actually made him feel better. Well, not better, but it stopped some of the pain. Removing your own pain as you take comfort in that others had a far more bitter experience...would that make him a sadist? A hypocrite?
He wasn't quite sure.
As Marcus walked through a storage yard, he spotted a familiar head of red hair upon a stack of crates, he didn't really care either. He raised his hand and waved his cap at Darren, yelling out to catch his attention.
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Darren spun his head around and saw Marcus. He smiled when he saw him, of course, but it petered off almost immediately when he saw only Marcus. No Phoebe or Michael. Just him. Something about that made him...
"... Hey Marcus."
Darren turned his attention back to the ocean.
"I guess the wedding didn't happen, huh?"
One of his shoes drooped. Darren reached a hand to help pop it back on, but not before he felt the weight of gravity tug him forward. He didn't fall. He forced himself to sit upright, fighting off the urge to let it take him.
That scared Darren.
"I'm - I'm sorry about that."
"... Hey Marcus."
Darren turned his attention back to the ocean.
"I guess the wedding didn't happen, huh?"
One of his shoes drooped. Darren reached a hand to help pop it back on, but not before he felt the weight of gravity tug him forward. He didn't fall. He forced himself to sit upright, fighting off the urge to let it take him.
That scared Darren.
"I'm - I'm sorry about that."
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"No...well maybe. Phoebe could have found another bride. Maybe Micheal. I don't know honestly."
He did just leave, never bothering to go back. So there was that to consider. Phoebe and Michael didn't seem like they'd get into too much trouble if they stayed where they were. He couldn't imagine why they would leave. Then again, they probably thought the same about the others. But, he did have his reasons.
He shrugged the thought off, and put his cap back on, scratching the nape of his neck.
"So...what are you doing up there?"
He did just leave, never bothering to go back. So there was that to consider. Phoebe and Michael didn't seem like they'd get into too much trouble if they stayed where they were. He couldn't imagine why they would leave. Then again, they probably thought the same about the others. But, he did have his reasons.
He shrugged the thought off, and put his cap back on, scratching the nape of his neck.
"So...what are you doing up there?"
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"Oh."
The only response he could conjure. Outwardly stale, inwardly beside himself.
Darren continued to stare out on the ocean, thinking to himself. A better retort came soon after.
"So the wedding didn't happen." He closed his eyes. "I didn't hear your names on the announcement. I figured you guys stuck together. I hoped you went through with it, maybe rope Michael into being the minister!"
Darren wanted to apologize again. For laughing. Just think, Michael, as a minister? He didn't laugh for very long but it was enough of a dose to make him feel better. It eased the weight on his eyes.
Marcus asked him why he was up there. Sitting on the top of a shipping container, Darren finished in his own mind. A good question. He considered it for a moment, tapping his fingers on the metal edge.
"I... I don't know."
He turned over his shoulder and looked at
"I can see the beach from here. There were some crates on the other side so I just walked up. I didn't really consider the why's."
Darren fell quiet, glancing at the distance from the top of the container and the concrete ground below. If he scooted forward...
"Just think though. I'm only up, what, twelve feet? Even at this height, one false step and I could seriously harm myself."
... Darren would not hit the ground like a runaway train. Not even close. The rhetoric made him smile, though, despite the severity.
"Pretty scary, don't you think, Marcus?"
The only response he could conjure. Outwardly stale, inwardly beside himself.
Darren continued to stare out on the ocean, thinking to himself. A better retort came soon after.
"So the wedding didn't happen." He closed his eyes. "I didn't hear your names on the announcement. I figured you guys stuck together. I hoped you went through with it, maybe rope Michael into being the minister!"
Darren wanted to apologize again. For laughing. Just think, Michael, as a minister? He didn't laugh for very long but it was enough of a dose to make him feel better. It eased the weight on his eyes.
Marcus asked him why he was up there. Sitting on the top of a shipping container, Darren finished in his own mind. A good question. He considered it for a moment, tapping his fingers on the metal edge.
"I... I don't know."
He turned over his shoulder and looked at
"I can see the beach from here. There were some crates on the other side so I just walked up. I didn't really consider the why's."
Darren fell quiet, glancing at the distance from the top of the container and the concrete ground below. If he scooted forward...
"Just think though. I'm only up, what, twelve feet? Even at this height, one false step and I could seriously harm myself."
... Darren would not hit the ground like a runaway train. Not even close. The rhetoric made him smile, though, despite the severity.
"Pretty scary, don't you think, Marcus?"
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"Heh, that would be pretty funny."
Marcus sheepishly rubbed him forearm. Goosebumps were popping up again. They had come out every so often. Mostly when he noticed things were silent.
Marcus listened closely as Darren explained his reason for being up so high. Lack of reason, even. He had felt a lot like Darren did, not really asking what to do, rather just doing things. It made sense to him.
What Darren said next made Marcus cringe out of discomfort. So now he had a why he needed answering to...
"W-why are you talking like that?"
Marcus sheepishly rubbed him forearm. Goosebumps were popping up again. They had come out every so often. Mostly when he noticed things were silent.
Marcus listened closely as Darren explained his reason for being up so high. Lack of reason, even. He had felt a lot like Darren did, not really asking what to do, rather just doing things. It made sense to him.
What Darren said next made Marcus cringe out of discomfort. So now he had a why he needed answering to...
"W-why are you talking like that?"
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"I don't know."
It was the truth, after all. Darren had no reason to lie to Marcus. Marcus had been there for Darren, just like Phoebe. But the fact that he wasn't sure, that he couldn't give Marcus a straight answer? It hurt. Really hurt.
Darren's face melted into a sad smile. He kept his eyes locked on Marcus.
"I've been having these thoughts for days. Like, before I met up with you and Phoebe. I-I honestly thought they were normal. A situation like this, I mean, who doesn't have them?"
He scratched at his chin, idle. It just itched. He's been scratching it for days but the itch won't go away.
"I probably wouldn't even die from this height, unless I landed on my head. Maybe a broken bone, nothing more than that."
Said casually, as if he were speaking about the Tokyo Metro and not about death and dying and letting yourself die.
It was the truth, after all. Darren had no reason to lie to Marcus. Marcus had been there for Darren, just like Phoebe. But the fact that he wasn't sure, that he couldn't give Marcus a straight answer? It hurt. Really hurt.
Darren's face melted into a sad smile. He kept his eyes locked on Marcus.
"I've been having these thoughts for days. Like, before I met up with you and Phoebe. I-I honestly thought they were normal. A situation like this, I mean, who doesn't have them?"
He scratched at his chin, idle. It just itched. He's been scratching it for days but the itch won't go away.
"I probably wouldn't even die from this height, unless I landed on my head. Maybe a broken bone, nothing more than that."
Said casually, as if he were speaking about the Tokyo Metro and not about death and dying and letting yourself die.
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Marcus said nothing as Darren explained his feelings. Marcus wanted to say he knew what Darren felt, that he understood his demeanor. That's what he felt like was the right thing to say.
But Darren only deserved honestly.
It was the one thing Marcus could give him.
"I just don't want you to get hurt. I...don't want you to stay hurt either. Darren...no matter what you do, no one's gonna be mad at you, I promise."
Hopefully this could start the process of getting Darren down.
One way or the other.
But Darren only deserved honestly.
It was the one thing Marcus could give him.
"I just don't want you to get hurt. I...don't want you to stay hurt either. Darren...no matter what you do, no one's gonna be mad at you, I promise."
Hopefully this could start the process of getting Darren down.
One way or the other.
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Darren appreciated the honesty. Marcus was a nice guy. He wasn't going to lie to him, or butter him up, not like Phoebe. Darren liked Phoebe but she had that air about her whenever his mother would insist on telling him that Santa Claus was real. Anyone else would have rolled their eyes but Darren? Darren could buy into it. Marcus wasn't like Phoebe, not at all.
Darren got to his feet. He didn't say anything, not yet. Darren always wished he could have seen the ocean. Now? With the sun setting in the distance and the gentle breeze against his skin? He didn't have to dream. It was awe-inspiring.
He was going to die, one way or the other.
Letting his hand fall to his side, he looked back at Marcus. He smiled.
"Do you promise not to be mad at me, Marcus?"
Darren got to his feet. He didn't say anything, not yet. Darren always wished he could have seen the ocean. Now? With the sun setting in the distance and the gentle breeze against his skin? He didn't have to dream. It was awe-inspiring.
He was going to die, one way or the other.
Letting his hand fall to his side, he looked back at Marcus. He smiled.
"Do you promise not to be mad at me, Marcus?"
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...
"I promise, Darren."
"I promise, Darren."
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...
"You should find Phoebe. You guys make a good couple."
In the time between the question and the answer, Darren edged closer. His heels met the edge.
"Sorry."
His heels left the edge.
He closed his eyes and pretended the concrete was the ocean. Darren didn't fall. He swan-dived, arms outstretched.
Darren hit the ground at the right angle, exactly. He died instantly.
B006 - Fox, Darren - DECEASED
51 Students Remain
If it's any consolation, everyone on this goddamned island is going to die.
"You should find Phoebe. You guys make a good couple."
In the time between the question and the answer, Darren edged closer. His heels met the edge.
"Sorry."
His heels left the edge.
He closed his eyes and pretended the concrete was the ocean. Darren didn't fall. He swan-dived, arms outstretched.
Darren hit the ground at the right angle, exactly. He died instantly.
B006 - Fox, Darren - DECEASED
51 Students Remain
If it's any consolation, everyone on this goddamned island is going to die.
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Somewhere, between all of this, the announcements came on, but Marcus couldn't really pay attention besides some key names.
Darren's feet left the crate, and Marcus had already turned on his heels.
The beeps of his collar didn't let him hear the impact, though that didn't matter.
He knew what happened anyway.
((Marcus Leung: B047 - V5 - Continued In Metastasis))
Darren's feet left the crate, and Marcus had already turned on his heels.
The beeps of his collar didn't let him hear the impact, though that didn't matter.
He knew what happened anyway.
((Marcus Leung: B047 - V5 - Continued In Metastasis))
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