SOTF Archive/SOTF Classic

((Jenna Rhodes continued from Senseless))

Jenna always liked school. More-so than the majority of her classmates did anyway.

To her, school was the perfect place to go in order to study, away from all the distractions present at home or in public spaces. She could think of days wherein she spent whole afternoons just hanging out in the library, reading up on books about the law and criminal justice, with the occasional break to catch up some of her favourite authors. Sure, it also meant having to share the same space with other people her age, some of whom were the kind of company she tended to avoid if at all possible. But it also meant getting to hang out with friends and like-minded students, debating about the issues people face in modern society.

Of course, the schools she was used to tended to be a lot less dusty than the one she was currently wandering aimlessly through. A lot less cobwebs as well. In fact, she was pretty convinced that the building she was in didn't even have a library. Just a series of cookie-cutter classrooms filled with empty chairs.

Oh well, it would do for now. All she really wanted was somewhere quiet to catch her thoughts, maybe even look for a paint can or two. After all, despite certain setbacks and trust issues, now that she only had to worry about herself she could finally focus on her plan. In fact, now that there were a lot less people it would be much easier to put it into motion. Convincing over a hundred students to stop fighting was one thing, but fifty? She could do fifty. She would need signs though, in order to attract attention. Stop the fighting! Let's prove that they can't force us to play their game any longer! Don't give them the satisfaction they desire! Something like that. Then once she's pacified everyone, their kidnappers will be forced to make a choice: Sacrifice the island, or give up. No way they would waste so much time and money by killing them all, right? What would be the point in all this if they were to pull a stunt like that? And even if they did, their sacrifice might inspire any future victims to not give in so easily, maybe dissuade Danya from ever attempting such a thing ever again. All she had to do was convince and island's worth of scared teenagers to potentially give up their life just to make a point.

Shouldn't be too hard, right?

Well, first things first, she needed some way to mark the school as a safe zone to meet up before she could start spreading the word. A can of paint would do nicely. And sure enough, the building she was in just so happened to have a closet that might...

Oh.

A dead body. Yasmin Carrol's in fact, hanging from a makeshift noose.

Without uttering another word, Jenna simply closed the door and left the room. Maybe she would find what she was looking for in a different closet.

It had been an hour or so since she had come across the body, and so far Jenna had yet to find anything.

Not for lack of trying of course. She had searched every closet, under every desk, in every room of the small Elementary School. She even dared to take another look in the closet containing Yasmin's swinging corpse, but ultimately she had no luck in finding what she was looking for. Shame, she had hoped that a school of all places might contain such a thing. Of well, she could continue searching later if need be.

For now, she was taking a brief moment to prepare herself a light meal. Nothing too big, even though she had food to spare after taking Jack's lif...

Bag. She meant bag. Yes, his bag. Which he no longer needed. Because he was...

Preemptively taken care of to ensure the safety of herself and others on the island. After all, anyone with the slightest intentions of murder were a potential threat, especially given how few people were left. How many were there left who had yet to bloody their hands? And how many who had not intend to do so once there were only a dozen or so of them left?

It was hard to guess, but she did know one thing: From this point on, everyone was a potential threat. She couldn't trust anyone, not even her closest friends. Everyone on this island were either murderers or potential murderers, herself inclu... No, what she did was in self defence. Jack had been that close to smashing her head in with a brick. And Yukiko? That was an accident, pure and simple. One which was also committed in self defence. No, she had not done anything no reasonable police officer wouldn't have done in her place.

Speaking of which, what was her family thinking right now? Were her parents disappointed in her? Did they realise why she had to do what had to be done, in order to ensure her own safety and the safety of others? Surely they had to know, right? That anyone would have done the same thing in her place, right?

Right?

((Leona Van Kamp continued from Arcadia))

The crack of Rebecca's knee reverberated, replayed, echoed in Leona's ears, even as she fled from the suburbs.  She could still feel the pressure of her friend's knee on the sole of her foot.

But the interesting part, really, was how it seemed like the correct choice.  After all, if she hadn't acted, they would both be dead.  One alive was better than none, right?

Right.

Leona's flight had taken her to what appeared to be a school.  The growing stitch in her side demanded that she stop, and with all the real estate she had gained, she doubted that Hansel was on her heels.  The world was returning to an even keel, and she needed to find her footing.  The school seemed as good a place as any.

Leona entered, taking care to breathe deeply to remove the pain, and ducked into a side classroom.  Desks built for children dotted the the room.  The teacher's chair was tipped on its side behind the desk in front of the chalkboard.  Leona walked over, took it in one hand and righted it, the legs clunking as they touched the floor.  She settled into the chair, scraping the legs across the floor as she slumped back into it.

The quarters were still clutched in her right hand, and she looked at them.  The orbit didn't resume.  Instead, she reared back and pitched them across the room, where they pinged and bounced off of desks before sliding to stops on the floor.

The silence was good for her.  Leona was never one much to plan.  She usually just came up with the ideas.  Hammering them out with Rebecca, that was the codification stage of anything they ever did.

But silence at least gave her what she needed to think.  Her thoughts came in fragmented thoughts, but each carried weight.

She wanted to keep living.

She needed a real weapon.

She was still off the radar.

Everything didn't fall into place so much as gain validation.  

Leona shrugged her hag off of her shoulder, reached in, withdrew a bottle with enough water for one swallow.  She finished it off and discarded it.  The world made a little more sense, and she was grateful for it.

Jenna was not alone.

At first she thought that her mind was playing tricks on her, or that a rat or something was causing a mess in one of the other rooms. It wouldn't of been the first time something like that had happened after all, especially ever since she left the airport on her own.

But after hearing the sound of several coins getting scattered across the floor, she knew for certain that she was no longer the only person in this school. That she was now in the presence of someone else, someone who may or may not be a friendly face.

She clutched her table leg hard, wielding it like a makeshift club as she slowly made her way out of her room and into the corridor. She had to be cautious, no telling who it was. Another murderer? Another lost soul? Or just a walking accident waiting to happen? There was no way for her to tell until she got a good look at who it was, after which she could decide her next course of action.

Of course, should worst come to worst and they came to blows, she was more than ready to do what was necessary again.

As she snuck down the hall, she could hear whoever it was gulping down some liquid before chucking it away, the bottle landing not too far from the doorway she was approaching cautiously. Once she arrived, Jenna waited a moment or two in silence, gripping her table leg as she contemplated her next course of action. Should she just step through the door and announce herself? No, too risky. She had no idea whether or not the person within was armed, and the last thing she wanted was to be shot in the chest by accident. Maybe she could announce her presence from behind the doorway, let them know rather than catching them by surprise? But if whoever was in there was actively hunting other people, surely the last thing she needed was to alert them of her presence? No, what she needed to do right now was find a way to figure out who was in there without drawing attention to herself. And at this given moment, she could only think of one way of doing so without having to leave the building entirely.

So without further ado, Jenna took a deep breath and peaked around the corner, taking care to not lean her head out too far and retracting barely seconds after she had glimpsed the person inside.

Leona pushed herself to her feet, respite for all intents and purposes complete.  She hitched her thumbs into her back and stretched once she pulled herself to her full height.  She was certain there wasn't much else to do here; she had scanned the room and saw nothing worth consideration as a weapon, and she doubted a school would be the best place for a makeshift armory anyways.  She seemed to be alright with constant movement; the bad things only seemed to happen when she idled.

Leona turned and headed for the door.

Jenna ducked back behind the doorway once she glimpsed the person within. Leona Van Kamp, just another shy girl from school. Thankfully not one of the killers, as far as she could remember anyway, but that didn't meant she did not have the desire or the potential to be one.

Jenna thought back to her days at Aurora High, desperately trying to remember if she knew anything about her. It was weird thinking that they had only been on this island for a week or so. For her it felt as though it had been en eternity since they were all at school, hanging around and worrying about inconsequential things like whether or not they were going to get the grades they wanted, or if she was on a balanced diet or not. Now here she was, worrying about whether or not the girl she had just come across could potentially kill her.

She had to do something. She wasn't sure what, but she knew for certain that just standing around was not going to solve anything. Should she try to contact Leona? Hide away from her? She wasn't able to see if the other girl had any weapons on her, which given the fact that all Jenna had to defend herself was a flimsy table leg didn't give her a good chance if things turned violent.

Then again, what if Leona was willing to help out with her idea? What if she was one of the few peaceful students left? After what happened to her last friends, she could definitely do with some new allies. Especially if she had any hope of making a difference on this island. And if Leona turned out to be dangerous?

Well, Jenna knew from experience what to do in that situation.

Either way, she didn't have the opportunity to greet her new guest, seeing as at that very moment Leona walked right out the doorway.

After pausing for a brief second, Jenna spoke up.

"Um... Hello."

The girl was to Leona's side, and she gave herself an inward berating for being so careless.  She supposed it couldn't be helped; she was a magician and not a trained police officer or something of that ilk.  As it was, the first thing she did was take a subtle step backwards; not much real estate but better than her initial trajectory had taken her.

The girl started the conversation with the customary.  Custom was well and good for Leona.  Custom meant nothing drastic had to happen.  Nothing yet.  

Leona nodded.  "In kind."  She looked around the girl's shoulder, then gave a glance around from the doorway.  There was no one else that she could see.

"Been there long?"

"Um, not particularly. Well, okay technically I was here first, but I..."

Jenna paused for a moment, trying to get her thoughts straight. Seeing as this was the first person she had spoken to in days who wasn't either Jack or Yukiko, she had to think for a couple of seconds about what exactly she was going to talk to her about.

"Okay, look, I... Sorry, it's been a while since I've seen anyone alive."

Jenna quickly glanced over Leona's shoulder and behind her own, also checking to make sure that they were all alone. The last thing she needed right now was to have unsuspecting murderers sneak up on her whilst her back was turned.

"Listen, this might sound odd, but... I don't suppose you've found any spray cans or pots of paint lying around, have you?"

Jenna presented herself as interesting.  The mention of not seeing anyone alive, the request for paint.  Leona had seen enough people alive for the both of them.  No paint.  But Jenna was certainly unique enough for Leona to hear her out.  Everyone deserved their fair say, given the circumstances.

"No paint.  I think our captors may have cleaned out the island before they dropped us here."

Leona put her shoulder to the doorframe and leaned on it, regarding her new conversation partner.  "Why paint, exactly?"  She smiled, a bare quirking of the lips that showed a hint of her teeth.  "I don't think we've much time for an art session."

"Damn, figured that was probably the case..."

Well, in many ways it made perfect sense. The terrorist goons had already cleared out most of the more notable values, such as everything electronic or anything that could give them a hint as to where they were exactly. Why not take all the paint as well, just to be on the safe side? Besides, judging from all the labels and some of the technology they had come across, the island had been abandoned for so long that odds are if there were any paint cans lying about they probably wouldn't be usable anyway.

"Well, if you must know, I had a... Plan of sorts, which required something along the lines of paint or spray cans in order to work. Although to tell the truth, at this point it probably wouldn't work anyway..."

Jenna paused, thought to herself for a moment, then continued.

"Or... Maybe not. Maybe I don't need paint for it after all."

She walked right past Leona into the classroom, making her way through all the desks and checking each of them periodically.

"Y-You know how that guy, whathisname, on the radio goes on about how escape is hopeless and any attempt at doing so will end with all of us dead? And that the chances of us being found are virtually zero?"

She opened up a desk, rummaging through it's contents for the umpteenth time, then closed it again.

"Well, ever since I woke up I've been thinking... What if they're wrong? I mean, after four previous kidnappings, you'd of thought the government would have prepared for this exact situation if it were to arise again? Have some special taskforce or something in wait just in case? Or at the very least, they would have some method of finding out where we are? This is 2012 for god's sake! We live in an age of satellite surveillance and spyplanes! Surely there can only be so many abandoned islands in the world for people to search for, especially ones that have had a nuclear power plant of all things on them!"

She picked up a permanent marker that she had found underneath a chair, testing it out on the desk. Maybe it wasn't dry? Damn, no such luck.

"I'm sure they must be searching for us right this very second! So all we need to do is gather everyone up in one place, get things organised, put a little order into this chaotic island and wait until the cavalry arrives. If anything, it'd probably be easier now than it was at the beginning, what with most of us... Well, dead and all."

She paused for a moment as she thought back to everyone she had previously met, two of whom had died at her hands. She then continued to search after shaking the thought away.

"But yeah, that's what I wanted the paint for. Figured the best way to try was to set up a safe zone of sorts, go around the island writing up messages urging people to stop killing each other and meet up in one location. Probably too late to convince most of the others from doing so, but maybe... Just maybe, I could still gather up the few souls remaining who haven't already given in to these terrorist bastards. Not everyone would be on board of course, and we'd probably have to deal with anyone who would cause further chaos, but once there are only innocent law-abiding people left it should be much easier to keep everything under control."

She glanced outside the window, checking in case there was anyone else in the vicinity.

"Of course, assuming that all goes as planned, we'd have to do something about the whole 24-hours-no-kill limit. Maybe draw straws, or take a vote, something along those lines... Either way, the longer we put this off, the more likely it is that we'll all get rescued and taken away from this hellhole."

Jenna paused again, her back facing the doorway as she thought back home. To her mother and father watching the television, praying for their little girl to return home to them. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't help but find her eyes watering up ever so slightly.

"Sorry..." she said, quickly wiping her eyes, her thoughts quickly drifting back to the friends she had betra... The friends who had betrayed her. The people she had trusted, who she turne... Who turned on her the moment she...

"I... I know this is plan is dumb and unlikely to succeed. I mean, I've spent nearly a week now just trying to find a can of paint or a spray can, or anything I could use. But... Well, what else am I supposed to do?"

It didn't take long for Leona to watch this girl to realize whatever she had seen on the island had set something off in her.  She was babbling, moving erratically.  She was unpredictable.

If there was one thing Leona didn't care for, it was things that were unpredictable.  Variables fouled tricks, ruined entire shows.  Around here, when they were playing for their lives, who knew what could be lost?

Leona supposed she could have just turned around and walked out, leaving the strange girl to her strange ramblings.  But who knew how further unhinged the girl would be down the road?  Leona had been at the mercy of the random ever since she woke up on the island.  What happened back in suburbia had been the first step toward taking the reins.  Besides, she might have something worthwhile in her bag.

Leona moved with light, easy steps, pulling the shard of glass from one of the inside pockets of her overcoat.  She thought about what she knew about assaulting someone with a knife, and came up distressingly short.

When she was much closer to Jenna, almost at her heels, she noted that the stressed girl's artery was prominent, popping out of the muscles of her neck.  Leona didn't remember much about anatomy, but did know if you slashed an artery, bad things were likely to happen.

Leona held her breath, and stuck the sharp edge of the glass shard to Jenna's neck, lengthwise across the artery.  She followed through, and shielded her eyes from the spurt that followed.

Suddenly, pain.

In hindsight, she should have seen this coming. Should have expected that with so little people left on the island, most of the remaining students would be on the offensive.

She had heard the footsteps as Leona approached her. She had heard her breathing right behind her. She could have done something, turned around, stood up, anything. But she didn't. She only realised what was happening when she felt the sharp edge of a shard of glass piercing her skin and tearing her artery open.

However, dying from getting your throat slit is far slower and messier than most movies show it to be. The moment she realised what was happening, she began to thrash out, swinging her table leg around in an attempt to defend herself. It was too late of course, her throat had already been cut open and there was blood running down her neck onto the floor below, but she did manage to land one blow before her legs began to buckle and her strength waned.

She tried to say something. Tried to scream out in anger, curse Leona's name. Anything really, but all that came out was a gargled mess as blood began to fill up her mouth. She clutched her throat in a desperate attempt to stem the bleeding, but it was far too late. The damage had been done. She had barely seconds before she passed out and bled to death.

Since the moment she first awoke, Jenna had hoped that if she was to die on this island, she would at least have the chance to say her last goodbyes to her family. That at the very least, her friends would be there to comfort her during her final moments. Maybe even the chance to say some last words before eventually passing on into the next life, free from the horrors that she had to witness on this island.

However, as she kneeled down on the floor covered in her own blood, there was nothing she could say. None of her friends were there to comfort her. Most of them were already dead, two of them by her own hands. Typical really, the one person she shouldn't have trusted was the one person she had not been paranoid about.

She wasn't even able to think back to her family, or of the good times she had with her friends back at Aurora High. She couldn't even think about how pointless this had all been, from the terrorists' vague motives to the things she had done over the past couple of days.

In the end, all she could think about was the fact that she was about to die, and there was literally nothing she could do about it.


G058 - JENNA RHODES - DECEASED

Leona hadn't known what to expect when she cut Jenna.  She was hoping the girl would just go down quietly; no muss, no fuss.  But she really wasn't ready for her to have enough wherewithal to fight back, even for a second.  So when the girl's makeshift club clipped her just above the temple, it tore a startled cry from her lips and stunned her.

Leona had to fall back against the wall to recover, holding the growing gash and swollen lump where she had been hit underneath her hairline.  She had to steady her breathing; the fact that if Jenna had been better armed, or if Leona missed something vital, very well could have ended her life, rattled her.

But she was alive.  The girl on the ground was immobile, in a growing pool of her own blood.  As simple as that.

When Leona regained her composure, she headed back over to the dead girl, replacing the bloody shard of glass in her coat.  She nudged aside the table leg with her foot, still wincing from the pain radiating from her temple.  She knelt next to the girl, and, with some effort, raised her up enough to extricate her bag.  She started to stand, but, on a second thought, grabbed Jenna's weapon as well.  She doubted it would be of much use as a weapon, but then again, it would all people would actually see her with.

Misdirection.  Distraction.  They really were her best weapons at this point.  The lump on her head was just a reminder she had to be more careful about it next time.

Leona looked down at Jenna, the table leg in her hand resting on her shoulder.

"It wasn't a bad plan."  She said.  Then she turned and left.

(Leona Van Kamp continued elsewhere)