“Mikki, listen to me!”
Bree didn’t let go. She couldn’t. She mustn’t. So she wouldn’t. Again, reasoning with her seemed like it was going to be difficult, but damn it, she wasn’t just going to let her wander around only to get killed, and then put them in a worse situation.
With her other hand, she jabbed a finger outside.
“If you go out there, you could die. Die. You’re asking me to let you go out in the dark by yourself to look for killers? No, that’s--”
She tried tugging a bit more. Her pointed hand reached to get a little more strength.
“Mikki, put everything down--”
Another tug.
“I mean it--”
Children of Cain
Roughly 3-4 AM, following in from the previous thread in the area. Private, sorry!
Who the hell did Bree think she was, lecturing Mikki like this like she didn't know what was what? Of course Mikki knew she was taking a risk, leaving the safety of the lighthouse for the dead night of the island. Mikki took risks every single time she visited her buildings, every single time she hosted large ravers with people from other schools she didn't know that well, every single time she put a little piece of herself out on the internet to be ripped apart by people who didn't know shit about what she'd done, and in theory this was no different.
The only real difference was that here she was doing it for something bigger than anything she'd done before - she was avenging a friend who shouldn't be dead, and once again it was something that only she could understand. It was only her.
With each word Bree let out, Mikki shook her head as though the blur could fade Bree away, but each time her vision came to still Bree was still there with her infuriating voice and her condescending tone, telling her things like she was a fucking idiot who didn't know shit.
"I don't care, Bree!"
She was feeling the anger coming out, and suddenly she was shouting over everything Bree was saying.
"Abel is dead, and whoever fucking killed him is still out there and I need to fucking find them and make them feel everything fucking shitty thing they did to him, Bree!"
Mikki still hadn't had enough, and tried yanking her hand out of Bree's grasp.
"I DON'T FUCKING CARE, BREE, I JUST WANT THEM DEA-"
And before Mikki knew it, she'd released herself from Bree's grip. But Bree tried to grab again, instead grabbing the gun and pulling it towards herself with Mikki's finger still in the loop as the trigger was pulled in the opposite direction. In this gun in particular, the safety being on meant that instead of an ear-shattering bang penetrating the night and ruining everything, there was just a simple click and no harm would come to anyone.
Unfortunately, the simple click did not come to pass.
The only real difference was that here she was doing it for something bigger than anything she'd done before - she was avenging a friend who shouldn't be dead, and once again it was something that only she could understand. It was only her.
With each word Bree let out, Mikki shook her head as though the blur could fade Bree away, but each time her vision came to still Bree was still there with her infuriating voice and her condescending tone, telling her things like she was a fucking idiot who didn't know shit.
"I don't care, Bree!"
She was feeling the anger coming out, and suddenly she was shouting over everything Bree was saying.
"Abel is dead, and whoever fucking killed him is still out there and I need to fucking find them and make them feel everything fucking shitty thing they did to him, Bree!"
Mikki still hadn't had enough, and tried yanking her hand out of Bree's grasp.
"I DON'T FUCKING CARE, BREE, I JUST WANT THEM DEA-"
And before Mikki knew it, she'd released herself from Bree's grip. But Bree tried to grab again, instead grabbing the gun and pulling it towards herself with Mikki's finger still in the loop as the trigger was pulled in the opposite direction. In this gun in particular, the safety being on meant that instead of an ear-shattering bang penetrating the night and ruining everything, there was just a simple click and no harm would come to anyone.
Unfortunately, the simple click did not come to pass.
Bree let go. Without a word she collapsed to the floor. A red stain slowly but surely spread across the side of her yellow top. But she laid motionless, not responding to anything else.
All Mikki noticed was the ringing, and it was all that registered in her head before she realized she was no longer being held.
She'd never been near a real gun before. She'd seen friends use them in video games, but they weren't loud like this one. The bullet ripping through the air was a sharp sound, like someone punching a hole through paper but magnified and echoing. Right afterwards, Mikki was no longer being held. Her hand to her head, she closed her eyes, rubbing the piece of skull above her ear as though it would improve her now impaired hearing, because years spent beneath speakers loud enough to blow eardrums did nothing to prepare Mikki for the crack of a real bullet.
When she finally realized that nothing was happening, she stopped. Mikki then became aware that she could no longer see Bree's figure standing over her. In fact, nobody was standing over her - it was simply Mikki and Mikki standing alone in that room, and it took a few seconds of remembering that she had a flashlight in her off-hand to scan around the room and remember why.
Bree was on the ground. The girl who had no trouble speaking her mind before was silent, a flow of red spreading through the large bullet wound that pierced her torso and threw her backwards, over the debris Mikki herself had tripped over minutes before. The torch kept its gaze on Bree's body for several more seconds, before being overcome by shaking, and then a fall to the floor.
Its owner, standing there with the smoking gun and a trembling realization of what she'd just done, put her left hand to her mouth and began to scream through her palm.
She'd never been near a real gun before. She'd seen friends use them in video games, but they weren't loud like this one. The bullet ripping through the air was a sharp sound, like someone punching a hole through paper but magnified and echoing. Right afterwards, Mikki was no longer being held. Her hand to her head, she closed her eyes, rubbing the piece of skull above her ear as though it would improve her now impaired hearing, because years spent beneath speakers loud enough to blow eardrums did nothing to prepare Mikki for the crack of a real bullet.
When she finally realized that nothing was happening, she stopped. Mikki then became aware that she could no longer see Bree's figure standing over her. In fact, nobody was standing over her - it was simply Mikki and Mikki standing alone in that room, and it took a few seconds of remembering that she had a flashlight in her off-hand to scan around the room and remember why.
Bree was on the ground. The girl who had no trouble speaking her mind before was silent, a flow of red spreading through the large bullet wound that pierced her torso and threw her backwards, over the debris Mikki herself had tripped over minutes before. The torch kept its gaze on Bree's body for several more seconds, before being overcome by shaking, and then a fall to the floor.
Its owner, standing there with the smoking gun and a trembling realization of what she'd just done, put her left hand to her mouth and began to scream through her palm.
Her eyes had found Phil's, their gazes locked together in the dark. Looking at her, seeing her without making any demands of her. The voice beneath them had risen a little, but she couldn't take her attention from Phil, her attention from this moment.
"No," he said, with a smile on his face and tenderness in his voice, and Terra felt another surge of warmth, so sunny and cozy that she almost didn't hear what he'd said.
"Oh," Terra said.
"No," he said again. "Because, because I don't think anything you say can be too scary anymore. It's... I mean, it is, but also..." He trailed off, and Terra's heart skipped a beat, and the smile on her face widened. "It's not, you know? I don't think you'd hurt anyone, or me, so, so it can't be that scary."
No. Nothing like Reuben. Nothing like sin, and terror, and death. Just Phil and Terra, like they'd always been.
"So," he said, and Terra opened her mouth, not quite knowing what she hoped to say, determined to say it, determined to speak, determined to snatch back hope from this nightmare, determined to do what God had put her here to do.
And the world shattered.
It was like the rumble of thunder, or the crackle of a firecracker, or the shattering of glass. It was the roar of destruction, like the growl of a great beast, like the feeling of the knife in her palm. It was violence made audible, and Terra had already risen into a runner's crouch. "Stay here!" she cried, taking off at a sprint down the stairs.
Stay here. Stay here. Why was she rushing down the stairs towards a sound like that?
But the questions faded with every step. Her focus was razored in. Her doubts and nightmares forgotten. She had saved the girl Reuben had threatened. She had found Phil again. She was where she was supposed to be, and if a monster threatened this group then that monster would be stopped. She would...she...
She'd reached the bottom of the stairs, still running. But for a moment, the world seemed frozen. The tableau was laid out in front of her in the shadowy illumination of a fallen flashlight. Bree (Bree the gamer, Bree distant but decent, the first real kindness since she'd reached the island, the first taste of peace she'd had, the peace that had led her to Phil, the peace that had made her feel safe) was laid out in silhouette. Only the blood was visible.
Above her, darker than shadow, flashlight in one had and gun in the other, was Mikki.
Warmth. Fear. Serenity. Doubt. Certainty. Faith. Flashes of emotion, strobing through her, filling her from end to end. Mikki, as repugnant as Terra had always thoughts. Reuben again, violating the commandments. Worse, killing Bree. Bree Bree Bree I didn't know you well enough you were so kind so good as decent as Phil an I let you march down here alone and...
Wait. It was Mikki who had proposed they hide in the lighthouse for the night, Mikki who had stolen downstairs and shot down the first person to come after her. Had this all been a trap, so she could shoot them in their sleep? Was that why Bree had gone after Mikki? Had she known what was coming? Had she tried to save them? Had Mikki decided to come hunting the rest of them? Gun in hand, climbing the stairs to shoot the sleeping and the vulnerable?
Phil was upstairs.
"NO!" Terra shrieked, as the world started moving again and Terra tore across the room. "YOU!" she screamed, as Mikki's head jerked up, and the gun with it. "FUCKING" she howled, rage blinding her to danger, to fear, to anything but the murderer in front of him who needed to be stopped. "DON'T!" she bellowed, fingers closing on the gun pointed on her, thrusting it to the side. There was another shattering roar of violence, but Terra barely heard it. While one hand burned, her other struck with all her strength, right towards Mikki's throat.
"No," he said, with a smile on his face and tenderness in his voice, and Terra felt another surge of warmth, so sunny and cozy that she almost didn't hear what he'd said.
"Oh," Terra said.
"No," he said again. "Because, because I don't think anything you say can be too scary anymore. It's... I mean, it is, but also..." He trailed off, and Terra's heart skipped a beat, and the smile on her face widened. "It's not, you know? I don't think you'd hurt anyone, or me, so, so it can't be that scary."
No. Nothing like Reuben. Nothing like sin, and terror, and death. Just Phil and Terra, like they'd always been.
"So," he said, and Terra opened her mouth, not quite knowing what she hoped to say, determined to say it, determined to speak, determined to snatch back hope from this nightmare, determined to do what God had put her here to do.
And the world shattered.
It was like the rumble of thunder, or the crackle of a firecracker, or the shattering of glass. It was the roar of destruction, like the growl of a great beast, like the feeling of the knife in her palm. It was violence made audible, and Terra had already risen into a runner's crouch. "Stay here!" she cried, taking off at a sprint down the stairs.
Stay here. Stay here. Why was she rushing down the stairs towards a sound like that?
But the questions faded with every step. Her focus was razored in. Her doubts and nightmares forgotten. She had saved the girl Reuben had threatened. She had found Phil again. She was where she was supposed to be, and if a monster threatened this group then that monster would be stopped. She would...she...
She'd reached the bottom of the stairs, still running. But for a moment, the world seemed frozen. The tableau was laid out in front of her in the shadowy illumination of a fallen flashlight. Bree (Bree the gamer, Bree distant but decent, the first real kindness since she'd reached the island, the first taste of peace she'd had, the peace that had led her to Phil, the peace that had made her feel safe) was laid out in silhouette. Only the blood was visible.
Above her, darker than shadow, flashlight in one had and gun in the other, was Mikki.
Warmth. Fear. Serenity. Doubt. Certainty. Faith. Flashes of emotion, strobing through her, filling her from end to end. Mikki, as repugnant as Terra had always thoughts. Reuben again, violating the commandments. Worse, killing Bree. Bree Bree Bree I didn't know you well enough you were so kind so good as decent as Phil an I let you march down here alone and...
Wait. It was Mikki who had proposed they hide in the lighthouse for the night, Mikki who had stolen downstairs and shot down the first person to come after her. Had this all been a trap, so she could shoot them in their sleep? Was that why Bree had gone after Mikki? Had she known what was coming? Had she tried to save them? Had Mikki decided to come hunting the rest of them? Gun in hand, climbing the stairs to shoot the sleeping and the vulnerable?
Phil was upstairs.
"NO!" Terra shrieked, as the world started moving again and Terra tore across the room. "YOU!" she screamed, as Mikki's head jerked up, and the gun with it. "FUCKING" she howled, rage blinding her to danger, to fear, to anything but the murderer in front of him who needed to be stopped. "DON'T!" she bellowed, fingers closing on the gun pointed on her, thrusting it to the side. There was another shattering roar of violence, but Terra barely heard it. While one hand burned, her other struck with all her strength, right towards Mikki's throat.
Those Whose Time Has Come]
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
The sound of gunfire rattle Zach’s head as he woke from slumber. His body shot up.
(Zachary Beck, continued from Just keep breathin’ and breathin’ and breathin’ )
“What the fuck was that!?,” Zach shouted in fear, voice cracking.
Did somebody just break into the lighthouse? They must have opened fire on the ones keeping watch! Zach began to panic. His thoughts were racing as he began to hastily scope the floor for any possible escape routes. The only way he could escape was down the stairs, but that would mean running into the gunman.
Just then, the girl with the injured hand, Terra, rushed down the stairs toward the noise. What is she, a fucking idiot!? She’s gonna get fucked up by a shower bullets! Zach looked over at Phillip.
“What the fuck do we do!?,” exclaimed Zach.
(Zachary Beck, continued from Just keep breathin’ and breathin’ and breathin’ )
“What the fuck was that!?,” Zach shouted in fear, voice cracking.
Did somebody just break into the lighthouse? They must have opened fire on the ones keeping watch! Zach began to panic. His thoughts were racing as he began to hastily scope the floor for any possible escape routes. The only way he could escape was down the stairs, but that would mean running into the gunman.
Just then, the girl with the injured hand, Terra, rushed down the stairs toward the noise. What is she, a fucking idiot!? She’s gonna get fucked up by a shower bullets! Zach looked over at Phillip.
“What the fuck do we do!?,” exclaimed Zach.
B018: Ned Jackson- 
G039: Yuki Hayashibara- 
B034: Zachary Beck- -
MurderWeasel
- Posts: 2566
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
Stay here. Oh, how Phillip wished it was that simple.
Suddenly, he was hanging on the net again, twenty-something feet in the air. This time, however, he'd been given permission to take the coward's route. He'd been told to stay safe. He didn't even have to climb down to run away, just stay there and squeeze his eyes tightly shut. It'd be easy, and it'd be safer, and it'd be unspeakably wrong for all the same reasons it had yesterday.
Zach was awake now for sure, freaking out, asking what to do. This room was up a few steps, tucked away in the back, the closest thing this building now had to an upper story after the collapse of the old spiral staircase that had clearly once led to its highest echelons. The entrance to this place was actually a little hard to see, tucked behind a particularly gnarly wrinkle of warped wall and rubble. If they were being targeted by some invader, they might well be missed. In this moment, however, that didn't make an ounce of difference.
Terra had taken off down the stairs without hesitation. She was the most injured of them, she had no real armament, and none of that had given her the slightest pause. These couple seconds of wasted thought and vacillation, these were why Phillip wasn't actually cool. These were why she was better than he was.
But he could try. This time, he could try. He could stick around, take a hit from his inhaler, sure, but make certain Shauna and Danny were okay, help Nikki get her rope back. He could do the right thing. He could help Terra, her direct instructions to the contrary be damned.
"We have to go help," Phillip shouted, jumping to his feet. Then, because he wasn't sure Zach would be moved by the more emotional reasons, he added, "We're sitting ducks anyways if something happens. Come on."
He took just a moment to make sure that Zach was following—he was—and then darted out of the room and down the little staircase. It probably would've been wise, had he been thinking about it, to bring his assigned weapon along, goofy toothy paddle though it was, but he'd used his thinking time embroiled in indecision and angst and then motivating the final member of the group to get involved. There was no time to turn back as he realized just how woefully under-equipped he was.
Not that it mattered anyways. As Phillip reached the bottom of the stairs and took two steps into the ruined chamber proper, he saw that what had happened was worse and more complicated than he could've imagined.
Mikki had her gun. He'd sort of accepted that as part of her shtick, and she hadn't shot it so he hadn't actually thought much of it. But now, she'd apparently pulled the trigger, unless he was missing something and someone else had come in and then went back out and that was too much thinking because of the scene laid out before him.
It was cast in chiaroscuro, the light of the sliver of moon mixing with the beams of flashlights to highlight Bree lying amidst the rubble, transformed into rubble herself. Her shirt was a starburst of blood, and she wasn't moving, and Phillip was pretty sure that meant she was dead, or at least functionally so in the context of this place.
And there was Terra, charging at Mikki, howling words that had barely penetrated Phillip's head on the way down (she'd cursed, and it sounded weird coming from her, and Phillip cursed all the fucking time, everyone knew that, but around Terra he kept it down just a little, even in his head) and he had to help or something, so he took one and then two more steps forward.
Suddenly, he was hanging on the net again, twenty-something feet in the air. This time, however, he'd been given permission to take the coward's route. He'd been told to stay safe. He didn't even have to climb down to run away, just stay there and squeeze his eyes tightly shut. It'd be easy, and it'd be safer, and it'd be unspeakably wrong for all the same reasons it had yesterday.
Zach was awake now for sure, freaking out, asking what to do. This room was up a few steps, tucked away in the back, the closest thing this building now had to an upper story after the collapse of the old spiral staircase that had clearly once led to its highest echelons. The entrance to this place was actually a little hard to see, tucked behind a particularly gnarly wrinkle of warped wall and rubble. If they were being targeted by some invader, they might well be missed. In this moment, however, that didn't make an ounce of difference.
Terra had taken off down the stairs without hesitation. She was the most injured of them, she had no real armament, and none of that had given her the slightest pause. These couple seconds of wasted thought and vacillation, these were why Phillip wasn't actually cool. These were why she was better than he was.
But he could try. This time, he could try. He could stick around, take a hit from his inhaler, sure, but make certain Shauna and Danny were okay, help Nikki get her rope back. He could do the right thing. He could help Terra, her direct instructions to the contrary be damned.
"We have to go help," Phillip shouted, jumping to his feet. Then, because he wasn't sure Zach would be moved by the more emotional reasons, he added, "We're sitting ducks anyways if something happens. Come on."
He took just a moment to make sure that Zach was following—he was—and then darted out of the room and down the little staircase. It probably would've been wise, had he been thinking about it, to bring his assigned weapon along, goofy toothy paddle though it was, but he'd used his thinking time embroiled in indecision and angst and then motivating the final member of the group to get involved. There was no time to turn back as he realized just how woefully under-equipped he was.
Not that it mattered anyways. As Phillip reached the bottom of the stairs and took two steps into the ruined chamber proper, he saw that what had happened was worse and more complicated than he could've imagined.
Mikki had her gun. He'd sort of accepted that as part of her shtick, and she hadn't shot it so he hadn't actually thought much of it. But now, she'd apparently pulled the trigger, unless he was missing something and someone else had come in and then went back out and that was too much thinking because of the scene laid out before him.
It was cast in chiaroscuro, the light of the sliver of moon mixing with the beams of flashlights to highlight Bree lying amidst the rubble, transformed into rubble herself. Her shirt was a starburst of blood, and she wasn't moving, and Phillip was pretty sure that meant she was dead, or at least functionally so in the context of this place.
And there was Terra, charging at Mikki, howling words that had barely penetrated Phillip's head on the way down (she'd cursed, and it sounded weird coming from her, and Phillip cursed all the fucking time, everyone knew that, but around Terra he kept it down just a little, even in his head) and he had to help or something, so he took one and then two more steps forward.
Help!? Was Phillip going bugfuck too? They’d be walking into a slaughter! Granted, he had a point of being trapped upstairs anyway, but still! Zach didn’t want to die, and the last thing logic would dictate was to purposely walk into someone’s line of fire.
Regardless of how nonsensical it was, Phillip started down the stairs. Not wanting to be left alone to face the gunman last, Zach followed closely behind. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, they witnessed a grisly sight. Bree was payed out on the floor, bleeding, with Terra rushing at Mikki, who was holding the gun.
Did Mikki do this? Why? Wasn’t it her idea to head to the village together?...
...
Or was it all a trap? Could she have proposed the idea just to lower everyone’s guard and take advantage of them? She must have been planning to kill them all in their sleep, until Bree caught her.
Damn it! Fucking, conniving bitch!
Regardless of how nonsensical it was, Phillip started down the stairs. Not wanting to be left alone to face the gunman last, Zach followed closely behind. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, they witnessed a grisly sight. Bree was payed out on the floor, bleeding, with Terra rushing at Mikki, who was holding the gun.
Did Mikki do this? Why? Wasn’t it her idea to head to the village together?...
...
Or was it all a trap? Could she have proposed the idea just to lower everyone’s guard and take advantage of them? She must have been planning to kill them all in their sleep, until Bree caught her.
Damn it! Fucking, conniving bitch!
All the anger and confidence that was driving Mikki forward less than seconds ago had evaporated the moment she realized what she'd done. She tried to muffle her scream with her hand but it was no use, it was shaking too much. Bree was laying on the ground, not moving, eyes closed, and Mikki was standing over her with the gun in her hand. What had she done? She'd killed her. She'd killed Bree. She'd shot her right in the chest and now she was dead.
And the worst part was that Mikki couldn't even remember what happened. She was trying to pull away, the gun got caught, and...but the safety was on. She remembered specifically she put the safety on when she was fiddling around with it. But then she got pulled and the trigger was snagged and now Bree was dead beneath her. She could feel the swirls erupt and rupture inside of her as the vibrations of her voice gnawed away at the skin of her palm. What the fuck did she do?! She wanted to scream even louder, she wanted to throw up, she wanted to run, she wanted to cry and throw herself from the highest building and she wanted to do it all at once.
She barely even had time to process what it meant when Terra came bounding down the stairs, her own screams filling the air as she bound closer and closer through the dark until suddenly she could feel the breath from her lungs as she grabbed the gun and almost immediately Mikki pulled the trigger again with a roar before being lifted through the air and smashing into the broken table behind her, with the bible freak on top of her wrestling with one hand for the gun and the other for her neck.
All of Mikki's life she'd done her best to plan. She rarely did anything important without thinking about it first - if she had an idea, she thought about it, she planned it out, before even thinking about acting on it. But now, on this island, all she could do was act on instinct.
As Terra loomed over her with her own body in grip, Mikki swung the gun out as far as she could, pulling the trigger all the while. Explosions went in directions she couldn't comprehend, into walls and ceiling and sometimes not hitting things at all, at least from what Mikki could see at her lowest point.
But try as she tried, Terra was stronger.
And the worst part was that Mikki couldn't even remember what happened. She was trying to pull away, the gun got caught, and...but the safety was on. She remembered specifically she put the safety on when she was fiddling around with it. But then she got pulled and the trigger was snagged and now Bree was dead beneath her. She could feel the swirls erupt and rupture inside of her as the vibrations of her voice gnawed away at the skin of her palm. What the fuck did she do?! She wanted to scream even louder, she wanted to throw up, she wanted to run, she wanted to cry and throw herself from the highest building and she wanted to do it all at once.
She barely even had time to process what it meant when Terra came bounding down the stairs, her own screams filling the air as she bound closer and closer through the dark until suddenly she could feel the breath from her lungs as she grabbed the gun and almost immediately Mikki pulled the trigger again with a roar before being lifted through the air and smashing into the broken table behind her, with the bible freak on top of her wrestling with one hand for the gun and the other for her neck.
All of Mikki's life she'd done her best to plan. She rarely did anything important without thinking about it first - if she had an idea, she thought about it, she planned it out, before even thinking about acting on it. But now, on this island, all she could do was act on instinct.
As Terra loomed over her with her own body in grip, Mikki swung the gun out as far as she could, pulling the trigger all the while. Explosions went in directions she couldn't comprehend, into walls and ceiling and sometimes not hitting things at all, at least from what Mikki could see at her lowest point.
But try as she tried, Terra was stronger.
Terra managed to overpower Mikki as they broke the table during the struggle. Zach was about to cheer for Terra when a new problem presented itself. As the girls wrestled, Mikki fired her gun and more bullets began to dart around the interior.
The shot fired in random directions. Left, right, up, left, up, down. Shots went into the walls, the non-existent ceiling, and door, leaving tiny bullet holes as evidence of their impact.
Zach was frozen in place behind Phillip. His mind had gone blank. As if he knew, this was how it ended. His life would end via stray bullet. Just as he thought his life would flash in front of his eyes, a small, but poignant gust of air whizzed just past his cheek. A bullet planted itself in the wall next to him. This was enough to reawaken hid thoughts.
What are you doing, you fucking idiot!? Don’t just stand there!
At this point, Zach’s instincts took over. He reached for the back of Phillip’s shirt and pulled the boy toward him.
The shot fired in random directions. Left, right, up, left, up, down. Shots went into the walls, the non-existent ceiling, and door, leaving tiny bullet holes as evidence of their impact.
Zach was frozen in place behind Phillip. His mind had gone blank. As if he knew, this was how it ended. His life would end via stray bullet. Just as he thought his life would flash in front of his eyes, a small, but poignant gust of air whizzed just past his cheek. A bullet planted itself in the wall next to him. This was enough to reawaken hid thoughts.
What are you doing, you fucking idiot!? Don’t just stand there!
At this point, Zach’s instincts took over. He reached for the back of Phillip’s shirt and pulled the boy toward him.
-
MurderWeasel
- Posts: 2566
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
The gunfire was spraying wildly, the sound of discharge rattling Phillip's senses. He should do something. He should help Terra. He couldn't imagine how loud it would've been were there a roof to make the noises echo. He couldn't imagine what he would do when he reached Mikki. But still, he would, could, had to do something. He wouldn't run away again.
He took a step forward, and then there was something bringing him up short. A hand on the back of his shirt, a tug, and he was stumbling backwards, into Zach and at first he thought the boy was trying to keep him safe, which was, okay, he could appreciate it, but fuck it, this was not the time, and then Phillip saw that the gun was pointing right at them and he realized that wasn't what was happening at all. Phillip's safety was the last thing on Zach's mind.
That motherfucker.
But there was no time to pull away or spin and shout or do anything, really. Phillip made eye contact with the barrel of the gun, stared straight down into the blackness, and then it rose up to meet him.
He took a step forward, and then there was something bringing him up short. A hand on the back of his shirt, a tug, and he was stumbling backwards, into Zach and at first he thought the boy was trying to keep him safe, which was, okay, he could appreciate it, but fuck it, this was not the time, and then Phillip saw that the gun was pointing right at them and he realized that wasn't what was happening at all. Phillip's safety was the last thing on Zach's mind.
That motherfucker.
But there was no time to pull away or spin and shout or do anything, really. Phillip made eye contact with the barrel of the gun, stared straight down into the blackness, and then it rose up to meet him.
The gun kept roaring, cracking, crackling, thundering, so Terra felt like she was standing in the middle of a raging storm. The monster in front of her was flailing, cursing, trying to point the gun at her, and Terra was scratching and striking and strangling her, rolling off the broken table, feeling the ache in her throbbing, injured hand, feeling the tension in her muscles, smelling her own sweat at the heated metal and the tang of blood in the air, fighting desperately against a girl who had once been her lab partner as the sound of blows on flesh rippled liquidly and was lost in the cacophony of gunfire.
Against Mikki, who she had never liked. Against Mikki, who she had trusted. Against Mikki, a sinner worse than she'd ever known, a killer hiding behind a mask of a grief, a wolf playing at being a sheep.
For we wrestle not against flesh and blood
This was not a classmate anymore, like Reuben was not a classmate anymore, like Abel's killer wasn't a classmate anymore. Terra felt like she had always seen the hollowness of her parent's non-beliefs, a hollowness that loomed around her all the time, like shadows in the eyes of the adults in the stores and the children at school. More than anything else, it was that darkness that had brought her to her grandparents' faith. Nothing her parents had ever tried to teach her answered that darkness. But God and Christ did.
but against powers, against principalities, against the rulers of darkness in the world
The rulers of that darkness, the powers and the principlaities that dwelt in those empty places, in the holes were God and his Son and the Holy Spirit were supposed to be, the emptiness that drowned almost everyone she ever knew, emptiness and anxiety and loneliness and fear, and they poured sin after sin into the abyss to try to slake the hollow beast, not knowing that they all they did was feed it, strengthen it, until cancerous darkness overran them body and soul, and if you ever needed proof all you had to was compare Phil's quiet light to the shadow-bloated abomination that was all that remained of Mikki.
Mikki, fighting to point the gun at her. Mikki, with a sudden surge of strength, and Terra's free hand scrabbled and fought and couldn't quite hold her down, so the gun twitched closer, closer, closer...!
But the word of God was sword and shield to Terra, and she had withstood the evil day and her faith had been shaken in the thunder of the gun she found it had never truly wavered, and now her body was singing with strength and fury and righteous wrath and certainty that whatever God wanted from her, it was not another martyr.
So Terra let go of the gun.
It rose in a surprised arc, Mikki suddenly fighting against pressure that wasn't there, and in the moment when the gun swept too far, Terra ducked. The gun fired one more time as Terra drove inwards, hammering her knuckles, her elbows, her knees into Mikki's body and as Mikki reeled Terra grabbed for the gun again. Mikki's grip was tentative and uncertain, still unbalanced from and Terra howled like an animal, smashing her forehead against Mikki's face.
And the gun was in Terra's hand, and the monster in Mikki's flesh was falling backwards, falling before a righteous soldier girted with the light of God, and the gun was pointed at Mikki, and Terra's heart was pounding like she'd just won a race, and Terra's injured hand clutched the handle of the gun, fresh blood welling from the torn and shredded dressing Bree had given her, Bree who was lying on the floor a few feet away, Bree who had been kind and sweet and decent and who had followed Mikki down into the darkness, not knowing what she faced, and Terra's hand ached and her blood dripped down the slick gun handle
And Terra pulled the trigger.
Against Mikki, who she had never liked. Against Mikki, who she had trusted. Against Mikki, a sinner worse than she'd ever known, a killer hiding behind a mask of a grief, a wolf playing at being a sheep.
For we wrestle not against flesh and blood
This was not a classmate anymore, like Reuben was not a classmate anymore, like Abel's killer wasn't a classmate anymore. Terra felt like she had always seen the hollowness of her parent's non-beliefs, a hollowness that loomed around her all the time, like shadows in the eyes of the adults in the stores and the children at school. More than anything else, it was that darkness that had brought her to her grandparents' faith. Nothing her parents had ever tried to teach her answered that darkness. But God and Christ did.
but against powers, against principalities, against the rulers of darkness in the world
The rulers of that darkness, the powers and the principlaities that dwelt in those empty places, in the holes were God and his Son and the Holy Spirit were supposed to be, the emptiness that drowned almost everyone she ever knew, emptiness and anxiety and loneliness and fear, and they poured sin after sin into the abyss to try to slake the hollow beast, not knowing that they all they did was feed it, strengthen it, until cancerous darkness overran them body and soul, and if you ever needed proof all you had to was compare Phil's quiet light to the shadow-bloated abomination that was all that remained of Mikki.
Mikki, fighting to point the gun at her. Mikki, with a sudden surge of strength, and Terra's free hand scrabbled and fought and couldn't quite hold her down, so the gun twitched closer, closer, closer...!
But the word of God was sword and shield to Terra, and she had withstood the evil day and her faith had been shaken in the thunder of the gun she found it had never truly wavered, and now her body was singing with strength and fury and righteous wrath and certainty that whatever God wanted from her, it was not another martyr.
So Terra let go of the gun.
It rose in a surprised arc, Mikki suddenly fighting against pressure that wasn't there, and in the moment when the gun swept too far, Terra ducked. The gun fired one more time as Terra drove inwards, hammering her knuckles, her elbows, her knees into Mikki's body and as Mikki reeled Terra grabbed for the gun again. Mikki's grip was tentative and uncertain, still unbalanced from and Terra howled like an animal, smashing her forehead against Mikki's face.
And the gun was in Terra's hand, and the monster in Mikki's flesh was falling backwards, falling before a righteous soldier girted with the light of God, and the gun was pointed at Mikki, and Terra's heart was pounding like she'd just won a race, and Terra's injured hand clutched the handle of the gun, fresh blood welling from the torn and shredded dressing Bree had given her, Bree who was lying on the floor a few feet away, Bree who had been kind and sweet and decent and who had followed Mikki down into the darkness, not knowing what she faced, and Terra's hand ached and her blood dripped down the slick gun handle
And Terra pulled the trigger.
Those Whose Time Has Come]
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
Things swung out of control, and suddenly everything Mikki knew was hurt, as Terra's limbs and edges jammed into places they shouldn't have been and the gun was suddenly on Mars. Mikki wanted it to stop, she wanted everything to just stop so she could get a moment to breath, scream at this girl who was so hell bent on pummeling her into the brick. Every gunshot that still crackled in the air from seconds before it all went wrong for DJ Taipan, and before Mikki could fight back she felt a crack reverberate throughout the entirety of her skull.
And then before Mikki realized what was happening, how the stage had turned on her like she was too drunk at someone else's party, she felt herself hang in the air again before crashing into the edge of the broken table and tumbling sideways to the ground. She felt fresh bruises bang into hard floor and every roll shot her with pain, spasming through her body with the intensity of a strobing light, before she finally came to a stop and saw what she hoped she would never see as the ceiling returned to the right place and Terra was suddenly the right way up again.
Her own gun was aimed right at her.
Traces of anger and confidence had remained from when she shot Bree but it all trickled out the broken crack at the foundation of what made her Mikki. She had been crumpled into a ball on the ground like discarded guitar chords that pleased nobody's ears and only deserved the trash can, and all she could see was how this was ending for her. Mikki had been so convinced she was one of the only people on the island worthy of a death reserved for the people who meant something that the endgame she'd found herself in was literally inconceivable.
And yet, she still thought she could talk her way out of it.
"Wai-"
Her own words cut down by another explosion that ruptured her stomach and threw her down to the ground once again, Mikki knew nothing but pain, and stopped moving.
And then before Mikki realized what was happening, how the stage had turned on her like she was too drunk at someone else's party, she felt herself hang in the air again before crashing into the edge of the broken table and tumbling sideways to the ground. She felt fresh bruises bang into hard floor and every roll shot her with pain, spasming through her body with the intensity of a strobing light, before she finally came to a stop and saw what she hoped she would never see as the ceiling returned to the right place and Terra was suddenly the right way up again.
Her own gun was aimed right at her.
Traces of anger and confidence had remained from when she shot Bree but it all trickled out the broken crack at the foundation of what made her Mikki. She had been crumpled into a ball on the ground like discarded guitar chords that pleased nobody's ears and only deserved the trash can, and all she could see was how this was ending for her. Mikki had been so convinced she was one of the only people on the island worthy of a death reserved for the people who meant something that the endgame she'd found herself in was literally inconceivable.
And yet, she still thought she could talk her way out of it.
"Wai-"
Her own words cut down by another explosion that ruptured her stomach and threw her down to the ground once again, Mikki knew nothing but pain, and stopped moving.
The gunshot thundered through the air. The gunshot thundered through her hand. The open wound shuddered with it, a spike of pain that rattled up her arm, reverberated through her veins, thudded in time to the metronome in her heart. A hole ripped open in Mikki like a magic trick, and blood and fleshy ooze squirted from the wound.
Terra had never felt more alive.
Her body sang with adrenaline, with certainty, with righteous indignation. A monster dead at her feet. The first of many. It had been that easy: she felt the certainty of singing in the vaulted halls of her grandparent's churches, of speaking with like-minded, lighted souls in the grace of the CCRC. She had had the answer from the very first moment she woke up: the bright, hot surety that came in following God's will, in standing for righteousness and against the wicked. She had had to face Reuben to learn both what she would do and how difficult it would be. She had to see the darkness clearly, and shine her light against it. If she was truly girted with righteousness, she had to play the part. No more running.
Mikki was dead. Reuben would follow. She would be the instrument of God on an unholy island. She would avenge the fallen martyrs like Abel. She would protect the grace-filled souls like Phil.
Alive and filled with purpose, Terra turned away from Mikki. Alive and filled with purpose, she turned in the direction of Bree. Maybe she could be still be saved. Maybe she needed absolution before the end. Maybe...
Wait.
The gun fell from hands gone suddenly numb. It clattered noisily to the ground, unnoticed, as Terra took a staggering step over it.
"Phil?" she whispered, softly, plaintively, as though it were a prayer.
Terra had never felt more alive.
Her body sang with adrenaline, with certainty, with righteous indignation. A monster dead at her feet. The first of many. It had been that easy: she felt the certainty of singing in the vaulted halls of her grandparent's churches, of speaking with like-minded, lighted souls in the grace of the CCRC. She had had the answer from the very first moment she woke up: the bright, hot surety that came in following God's will, in standing for righteousness and against the wicked. She had had to face Reuben to learn both what she would do and how difficult it would be. She had to see the darkness clearly, and shine her light against it. If she was truly girted with righteousness, she had to play the part. No more running.
Mikki was dead. Reuben would follow. She would be the instrument of God on an unholy island. She would avenge the fallen martyrs like Abel. She would protect the grace-filled souls like Phil.
Alive and filled with purpose, Terra turned away from Mikki. Alive and filled with purpose, she turned in the direction of Bree. Maybe she could be still be saved. Maybe she needed absolution before the end. Maybe...
Wait.
The gun fell from hands gone suddenly numb. It clattered noisily to the ground, unnoticed, as Terra took a staggering step over it.
"Phil?" she whispered, softly, plaintively, as though it were a prayer.
Those Whose Time Has Come]
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
-
MurderWeasel
- Posts: 2566
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
When it reached Phillip, the darkness turned, for just an instant, into a searing, blinding white light. Then it was gone, in its place only pain and shock and incomprehension. He toppled backwards, and Zach had scrambled out of the way or maybe he got fallen on. No way to tell. No way to see, to think, to feel.
It was just nothing and pain. Pain and nothing.
He couldn't hear anything now. Couldn't focus. It was like looking at the rising dark again, except an endless tunnel he was racing down, or falling down, or that was racing at or falling on him.
For a brief, split second, he thought he saw a face. It was Terra's, strange and two-dimensional, and she was mouthing his name.
"T—"
His voice died halfway through the first syllable.
Nobody else really called him Phil. He liked it when she did, though.
He tried to hang on to that sight, that thought, that one last certainty, but the pain and the darkness were too much, and a split second later everything left in the world slipped away.
It was just nothing and pain. Pain and nothing.
He couldn't hear anything now. Couldn't focus. It was like looking at the rising dark again, except an endless tunnel he was racing down, or falling down, or that was racing at or falling on him.
For a brief, split second, he thought he saw a face. It was Terra's, strange and two-dimensional, and she was mouthing his name.
"T—"
His voice died halfway through the first syllable.
Nobody else really called him Phil. He liked it when she did, though.
He tried to hang on to that sight, that thought, that one last certainty, but the pain and the darkness were too much, and a split second later everything left in the world slipped away.