Bert's eyes were open now. She struggled and thrashed against the gun, slamming her fists down again and again on Quinn's hand. She could just barely reach that far. Bish, bosh, bish, bash, bash, bosh, bish. Nothing moved it. It shifted on its wrist, but it didn't move from her. She tried moving her neck, but the pressure was too much for her to actually shift around. She kicked her legs up and down, hoping to hit Quinn. She tried, and tried, and struggled, and struggled.
She found it in herself to cry out. Katelynne. Maybe she was still here. Maybe she could help. Maybe, maybe. Bish, bosh, bash.
"Kaeughtyie!" she gurgled,
"Kaeughtlehnnne!"
"Haelp! Heuelp! Kayeght—THhhlpplbt"
Her head shot backwards as she bit down sharply on her tongue, blood spilling out and sliding down her throat and down her chin.
Kids Run Through the City
Day 3; private
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MethodicalSlacker
- Posts: 1231
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This being easy was too much to ask for.
On the other hand, was it something she wanted to ask for?
The girl was putting up a fight and how much more interesting and exciting was that than her just soundlessly suffocating in her sleep?
Much.
Blood roared in Quinn's ears and her lips stretched out into a smile as the girl flailed and fought and clawed.
Then her foot caught Quinn in the thigh and she started attempting to cry out for help.
Less fun.
Her mind returned to Katelynne, to being interrupted, to how choking her out for some time hadn't been enough. How she'd survived, in spite of that. This girl had someone to help her, someone who could prevent Quinn from seeing this through, someone--
She had Katelynne. Katelynne was here.
Oh, Quinn was not having that girl mess with her again.
She pulled back from the choke, reversed her grip, and drove the butt of the rifle into the girl's face with a satisfying crunch.
Quinn drew back again. Down again, as if she was stabbing with a spear.
"Just."
Spltch.
"Die."
Splck.
"Already."
Spltk.
On the other hand, was it something she wanted to ask for?
The girl was putting up a fight and how much more interesting and exciting was that than her just soundlessly suffocating in her sleep?
Much.
Blood roared in Quinn's ears and her lips stretched out into a smile as the girl flailed and fought and clawed.
Then her foot caught Quinn in the thigh and she started attempting to cry out for help.
Less fun.
Her mind returned to Katelynne, to being interrupted, to how choking her out for some time hadn't been enough. How she'd survived, in spite of that. This girl had someone to help her, someone who could prevent Quinn from seeing this through, someone--
She had Katelynne. Katelynne was here.
Oh, Quinn was not having that girl mess with her again.
She pulled back from the choke, reversed her grip, and drove the butt of the rifle into the girl's face with a satisfying crunch.
Quinn drew back again. Down again, as if she was stabbing with a spear.
"Just."
Spltch.
"Die."
Splck.
"Already."
Spltk.
The flashlight in Katelynne's hand was the only source of illumination in the bedroom as she completed her final bag check, making sure everything was squared away and ready to go but working as quietly as possible so as to not disturb Liberty. Poor girl must've been really tired.
She dropped the flashlight at the screaming from the other roon; it rolled several feet towards the bed before stopping.
What the hell was going on? Was she having a nightmare? Moving furniture around? Surely it couldn't be nothing huge. The door was locked, so it wasn't like no one could just wander in.
...Or at least Katelynne remembered locking the door. Then again- no, of course she did. Why wouldn't she? Even if she couldn't remember doing it, why would she not?
...
Katelynne grabbed the table leg and turned off the flashlight before slowly approaching the door.
She turned the handle.
She pulled the door open.
She called out, "Liberty?"
She stepped into the hallway, as much as her heart and her brain told her not to.
...No. .....Not her....
She dropped the flashlight at the screaming from the other roon; it rolled several feet towards the bed before stopping.
What the hell was going on? Was she having a nightmare? Moving furniture around? Surely it couldn't be nothing huge. The door was locked, so it wasn't like no one could just wander in.
...Or at least Katelynne remembered locking the door. Then again- no, of course she did. Why wouldn't she? Even if she couldn't remember doing it, why would she not?
...
Katelynne grabbed the table leg and turned off the flashlight before slowly approaching the door.
She turned the handle.
She pulled the door open.
She called out, "Liberty?"
She stepped into the hallway, as much as her heart and her brain told her not to.
...No. .....Not her....
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MethodicalSlacker
- Posts: 1231
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She was close. Very close. Another kick in the right spot, and she could maybe get out from under Quinn. If she rolled off the couch with enough force, maybe she could get to her drill and have something to swing back at her. If Katelynne arrived, she'd have more than a fighting chance against her. Maybe.
In no short order, all of these thoughts turned to mush. It only took two impacts for Bert to find herself unable to resist any further, a third to drive any thought from her head. An especially hard impact came down and ejected some of her gray matter from a split in her skull through the air onto cover of the Yearbook on the table. Her eyes got droopy. Split like an egg. Just moments ago, full of life, vigor, breath, fight.
She was close, perhaps, but there was no point.
By the time that Katelynne got to the living room, there was nobody left to save.
For all her fighting and struggling, just one fact remained.
In the end, Liberty could not get free.
In no short order, all of these thoughts turned to mush. It only took two impacts for Bert to find herself unable to resist any further, a third to drive any thought from her head. An especially hard impact came down and ejected some of her gray matter from a split in her skull through the air onto cover of the Yearbook on the table. Her eyes got droopy. Split like an egg. Just moments ago, full of life, vigor, breath, fight.
She was close, perhaps, but there was no point.
By the time that Katelynne got to the living room, there was nobody left to save.
For all her fighting and struggling, just one fact remained.
In the end, Liberty could not get free.
Ah, rifle, it seemed that she had misjudged you.
Quinn watched pieces of the girl drip off the butt and smiled to herself.
That was better. Much much better. Gunfire just couldn't compare to the energised thrill that coursed up and down her spine. Her hands tingled, wet with blood.
Quinn glanced up from the girl with the ruined face.
There she was.
"Hello, Katelynne."
Quinn watched pieces of the girl drip off the butt and smiled to herself.
That was better. Much much better. Gunfire just couldn't compare to the energised thrill that coursed up and down her spine. Her hands tingled, wet with blood.
Quinn glanced up from the girl with the ruined face.
There she was.
"Hello, Katelynne."
"...!"
Katelynne immediately retreated back to the bedroom and slammed the door.
Crap.
Crap.
Gotta think.
Gotta think of a way out.
How the hell did she get in here!? Katelynne swore she locked the door. Why wouldn't she!? Liberty must've let her in. But that didn't make any sense either.
Thinking about the what-ifs and buts right now was a waste of time. She had to get out of here.
The window! But it was on the other side of the room. Sure death if she didn't get it open or even make it over in time. Had to slow Quinn down first. Yeah. First step.
There was the bed on the far side of the room by the window. That would work, but there was no telling how long it would take to pull that thing over. Katelynne didn't have that luxury right now.
The only other thing was the slightly taller than knee-high chest of drawers next to the door. Bulky, but they were empty save for what looked like a few robes or some sort of curtain. That wasn't enough to buy her more than a few seconds.
...There was the duffel bag. If she added that weight, maybe it was just enough.
The duffel bag.... it was duffel bag or life.
She pushed the drawers in front of the door and threw the full duffel on top along with the chair leg for good measure.
And then she ran to the window as fast as her little legs could take her. Her hands groped around the base before it could get a grip.
A fractured, solid piece of wood jutting from the frame stabbed her left hand. But she ignored the pain, pushing the window with all her might.
It moved.
Until it didn't.
No.
No.
Nononononononono.
Try as she might, the window refused to move any higher than about a foot, though she was always bad at estimates.
Regardless, no. No. There was next to no way she could crawl out like this. She couldn't risk it. Maybe if she were a few pounds lighter or a few inches taller. Maybe if she was like that kid at the beach, or Liberty.
...Liberty.
...Can't think about that. Gotta think. Gotta think. Think. Think. Think.
She could feel Quinn breathing down her neck. That caress like back at the shoe tree.
Think. Think. Think.
Her eyes were drawn to her pink bandanna, left hanging on the bedpost and glistening in the early pre-dawn light.
Katelynne immediately retreated back to the bedroom and slammed the door.
Crap.
Crap.
Gotta think.
Gotta think of a way out.
How the hell did she get in here!? Katelynne swore she locked the door. Why wouldn't she!? Liberty must've let her in. But that didn't make any sense either.
Thinking about the what-ifs and buts right now was a waste of time. She had to get out of here.
The window! But it was on the other side of the room. Sure death if she didn't get it open or even make it over in time. Had to slow Quinn down first. Yeah. First step.
There was the bed on the far side of the room by the window. That would work, but there was no telling how long it would take to pull that thing over. Katelynne didn't have that luxury right now.
The only other thing was the slightly taller than knee-high chest of drawers next to the door. Bulky, but they were empty save for what looked like a few robes or some sort of curtain. That wasn't enough to buy her more than a few seconds.
...There was the duffel bag. If she added that weight, maybe it was just enough.
The duffel bag.... it was duffel bag or life.
She pushed the drawers in front of the door and threw the full duffel on top along with the chair leg for good measure.
And then she ran to the window as fast as her little legs could take her. Her hands groped around the base before it could get a grip.
A fractured, solid piece of wood jutting from the frame stabbed her left hand. But she ignored the pain, pushing the window with all her might.
It moved.
Until it didn't.
No.
No.
Nononononononono.
Try as she might, the window refused to move any higher than about a foot, though she was always bad at estimates.
Regardless, no. No. There was next to no way she could crawl out like this. She couldn't risk it. Maybe if she were a few pounds lighter or a few inches taller. Maybe if she was like that kid at the beach, or Liberty.
...Liberty.
...Can't think about that. Gotta think. Gotta think. Think. Think. Think.
She could feel Quinn breathing down her neck. That caress like back at the shoe tree.
Think. Think. Think.
Her eyes were drawn to her pink bandanna, left hanging on the bedpost and glistening in the early pre-dawn light.
Katelynne fled and honestly the expression she wore was almost as good as pulverising this girl's face. Not quite, but close.
Quinn had spent a decent amount of time thinking about Katelynne. Choking her had been the wrong decision, she should have used the whip as a garrote or stopped sooner for sharp implements. Quinn doubted Katelynne would have bothered questioning why she wanted stabbing tools. The encounter on the beach was just an exercise in frustration combined with venting the only way she knew how. She hadn't been particularly interested in killing either Kate or Garren, not in such an unsatisfying, underwhelming way.
Now? Now Quinn had all the time in the world to make it good, make it last.
She touched the dead girl's cheek, tilting her head upwards. She had no eyes to look into. Quinn patted her affectionately, turned towards the closed door.
It didn't move far when she pushed inward. Quinn put her shoulder to the wood and shoved, barged. Thump. Thump. Thump.
"Katelynne," she called softly. "Kaaaatelynne."
Quinn had spent a decent amount of time thinking about Katelynne. Choking her had been the wrong decision, she should have used the whip as a garrote or stopped sooner for sharp implements. Quinn doubted Katelynne would have bothered questioning why she wanted stabbing tools. The encounter on the beach was just an exercise in frustration combined with venting the only way she knew how. She hadn't been particularly interested in killing either Kate or Garren, not in such an unsatisfying, underwhelming way.
Now? Now Quinn had all the time in the world to make it good, make it last.
She touched the dead girl's cheek, tilting her head upwards. She had no eyes to look into. Quinn patted her affectionately, turned towards the closed door.
It didn't move far when she pushed inward. Quinn put her shoulder to the wood and shoved, barged. Thump. Thump. Thump.
"Katelynne," she called softly. "Kaaaatelynne."
The sweat-soaked bandana was so bone-chillingly cold, as she rolled and tied it into a loose knot.
The screeching wind and the rain and the rustling of the trees were so powerful as they pounded the window and Katelynne, lancing the bandana on the jutting piece of wood.
The catcalling from Quinn was so defeaning and mind-piercing with each strike against the door, the chest slowly being breached with each thump.
Time's up.
As quietly as Katelynne could, she bent down and rolled under the bed, pushing herself as far up against the wall as possible.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
The screeching wind and the rain and the rustling of the trees were so powerful as they pounded the window and Katelynne, lancing the bandana on the jutting piece of wood.
The catcalling from Quinn was so defeaning and mind-piercing with each strike against the door, the chest slowly being breached with each thump.
Time's up.
As quietly as Katelynne could, she bent down and rolled under the bed, pushing herself as far up against the wall as possible.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Quinn burst into the room, the object wedging them clothes toppling over. Ugh. Katelynne really wanted to make her work for it, didn't she?
Still, it wouldn't be as fun if she just rolled over and...
Empty room.
With a strip of pink cloth caught on the window.
Quinn walked over to the opening, ducked her head to try and see outside. The light was low, she could have just fled around the corner and sprinted, no way Quinn would be able to see, nor catch her.
She took hold of the bandana and tore it free with a wordless snarl. No. Not again, no!
Stalking over to the drawers, Quinn stooped, heaved, hauling them upright. Then, with a yell, she flipped them over to crash onto the floor.
Still, it wouldn't be as fun if she just rolled over and...
Empty room.
With a strip of pink cloth caught on the window.
Quinn walked over to the opening, ducked her head to try and see outside. The light was low, she could have just fled around the corner and sprinted, no way Quinn would be able to see, nor catch her.
She took hold of the bandana and tore it free with a wordless snarl. No. Not again, no!
Stalking over to the drawers, Quinn stooped, heaved, hauling them upright. Then, with a yell, she flipped them over to crash onto the floor.
1. 2. 3. 4.
1. 2. 3. 4.
In. Out.
In. Out.
Can't close eyes. Want to, but can't. Can't make a sound. Keep breathing until she leaves. Stay calm. Keep breathing.
Keep watching those feet stomp around. Stay calm. Keep breathing. So close. Can't mess up.
1. 2. 3. 4.
1. 2. 3. 4.
Please leave. So close.
The chest was reset upright, but then slammed into the floor right next to the duffel bag that had toppled over.
Katelynne flinched. She held her breath. Her eyes squinched. Her body tensed up like a bear trap.
But no noise. C'mon. So close. Don't mess up. Don't mess up.
Take the bread.
Take the duffel bag.
Burn down the house.
Whatever.
But leave.
Please leave.
Please leave.
Please leave.
Please leave.
Please leave.
1. 2. 3. 4.
In. Out.
In. Out.
Can't close eyes. Want to, but can't. Can't make a sound. Keep breathing until she leaves. Stay calm. Keep breathing.
Keep watching those feet stomp around. Stay calm. Keep breathing. So close. Can't mess up.
1. 2. 3. 4.
1. 2. 3. 4.
Please leave. So close.
The chest was reset upright, but then slammed into the floor right next to the duffel bag that had toppled over.
Katelynne flinched. She held her breath. Her eyes squinched. Her body tensed up like a bear trap.
But no noise. C'mon. So close. Don't mess up. Don't mess up.
Take the bread.
Take the duffel bag.
Burn down the house.
Whatever.
But leave.
Please leave.
Please leave.
Please leave.
Please leave.
Please leave.
Not enough. Not enough. Furniture could be picked back up again. Knocking something over didn't express how furious she was.
Quinn stooped to the drawers again, dipping close to the floor, then straightened them. Putting one foot to the wood, she wrenched a draw clear, hearing something snap as the coasters within gave way.
She lifted her prize, gripping it in both arms, balanced its weight, and then howled her displeasure as she sent it crashing through the window.
Quinn stooped to the drawers again, dipping close to the floor, then straightened them. Putting one foot to the wood, she wrenched a draw clear, hearing something snap as the coasters within gave way.
She lifted her prize, gripping it in both arms, balanced its weight, and then howled her displeasure as she sent it crashing through the window.
Oh God. She was right there. Right in front of her. Don't look. Please don't look.
Tight. Cramped. Defeaning heartbeat. Hot. Humid. Spider webs.
But can't move. Can't make a sound. So close.
Wood snapping. Glass shattering. Primeval rage.
Can't move. Can't make a sound. Don't look. Leave. Just leave.
Psalm 34:17.
Leave.
Please.
Tight. Cramped. Defeaning heartbeat. Hot. Humid. Spider webs.
But can't move. Can't make a sound. So close.
Wood snapping. Glass shattering. Primeval rage.
Can't move. Can't make a sound. Don't look. Leave. Just leave.
Psalm 34:17.
Leave.
Please.
The subtle scrape of something being lifted, cloth on rough wood.
Receding footsteps.
Silence.
Receding footsteps.
Silence.
...Was... was she gone?
Katelynne suddenly felt very cramped, and very alone. The rain pattering was her only company.
No footsteps. No sounds of life.
Or death.
She suddenly felt very relieved, buried alive under the bed.
But she didn't move. Not yet. Not 'til she truly felt safe.
Katelynne suddenly felt very cramped, and very alone. The rain pattering was her only company.
No footsteps. No sounds of life.
Or death.
She suddenly felt very relieved, buried alive under the bed.
But she didn't move. Not yet. Not 'til she truly felt safe.
Never mind, even the sight of her excellent handiwork didn't salve her anger.
Quinn stormed back through the house and kicked the bedroom door so hard it slammed into the wall with a rain of plaster. Katelynne! Fucking Katelynne! Ruining a perfectly wonderful moment yet-a-fucking-gain! What was with her and managing to wriggle free? That gap in the window was tiny! She shouldn't have been able to get out. Stupid. Unfair. Quinn'd had Kate right where she wanted her and got a slap in the face for daring to take her time, having the temerity to savour the moment.
Breathing heavily, shoulders shaking slightly, Quinn stomped her foot, then once more. This should have been a fresh triumph, another step down the path she'd seen for herself at the very beginning. Instead it had turned into a frustrating failure. But then, should she be so surprised? Katelynne had been there at the very first step, fucking things up for her. The euphoria Quinn had felt as she slowly squeezed the life out of her felt like a mocking joke now, as if Katelynne was taunting her. She was. She'd be laughing at her, laughing that she hadn't managed to finish the job with her target cornered.
This wasn't happening again. Three times. Three times Katelynne had escaped Quinn.
Next time Quinn saw her, she was dead. Quinn didn't care if it was a boring gunshot, a stab, a push down the fucking stairs. Their next meeting was their last. Katelynne was a dead woman walking.
Quinn stalked back out of the room.
A minute or two later, she exited the house, spent a short while longer out there, and then left.
((Quinn continued in Life Anew))
Quinn stormed back through the house and kicked the bedroom door so hard it slammed into the wall with a rain of plaster. Katelynne! Fucking Katelynne! Ruining a perfectly wonderful moment yet-a-fucking-gain! What was with her and managing to wriggle free? That gap in the window was tiny! She shouldn't have been able to get out. Stupid. Unfair. Quinn'd had Kate right where she wanted her and got a slap in the face for daring to take her time, having the temerity to savour the moment.
Breathing heavily, shoulders shaking slightly, Quinn stomped her foot, then once more. This should have been a fresh triumph, another step down the path she'd seen for herself at the very beginning. Instead it had turned into a frustrating failure. But then, should she be so surprised? Katelynne had been there at the very first step, fucking things up for her. The euphoria Quinn had felt as she slowly squeezed the life out of her felt like a mocking joke now, as if Katelynne was taunting her. She was. She'd be laughing at her, laughing that she hadn't managed to finish the job with her target cornered.
This wasn't happening again. Three times. Three times Katelynne had escaped Quinn.
Next time Quinn saw her, she was dead. Quinn didn't care if it was a boring gunshot, a stab, a push down the fucking stairs. Their next meeting was their last. Katelynne was a dead woman walking.
Quinn stalked back out of the room.
A minute or two later, she exited the house, spent a short while longer out there, and then left.
((Quinn continued in Life Anew))