She hated fish.
((Kat Locke-Baldwin continued from What if You... Wanted to go to Heaven... But god said, "ᴜɴᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ɪᴛᴇᴍ ɪɴ ʙᴀɢɢɪɴɢ ᴀʀᴇᴀ"))
Yes, she got it as well as everybody else did. The Kat. Not liking fish. Make your own jokes, they were all as hilarious as the last. It was still, obviously, preferable to everybody at school knowing her as ‘Katana’, but whenever she mentioned offhandedly she didn’t like salmon or cod or whatever, there would always be somebody popping up with a huge shit-eating grin and something totally original on the tip of their tongue. Because woe betide anyone at her school have an original thought for once in their goddamn life.
Anyway.
Fish could go either two ways when you caught it and served it. Either it was bland as shit, and you had to coat it in a kilogram of flavouring just so it didn’t taste like a wet lump of flesh, or it was chewy and pungent and tasted like she imagined arse would taste like. And speaking of pungent, somehow it smelled even worse than it tasted. Every time she went past the fish counter at Sainsbury’s she was certain she was about to throw up.
So of course she’d ended up in this big brick building dedicated entirely to preparing and canning fish.
It was entirely her own fault, she got that. But she was still pissed off. From the dump to the dilapidated musty houses to the cannery. What a magical mystery tour she’d been on. And on this most recent leg of the journey, she’d had the cuts across her arm and face to deal with. The sleeve of her blazer and shirt had been fully ripped off, and a bandage wrapped around the X-shaped slash there, which had thankfully only just started to stain red, but she’d had to replace the plaster underneath her eye three times already on the road here. Each time she did, it felt as though a whole waterfall was pouring down her cheek, and it meant she was in a thoroughly stinking mood, as she traipsed through the equally stinking cannery.
All the more reason to get out of here, then. No matter what happened to her, she wouldn’t have to deal with this shithole, or cornered rats lashing out at her, anymore.
The one good thing that could be said about this building was that it masked the smell of the body propped up against the wall. She guessed it was somebody on the announcement that had played earlier, but she couldn’t tell who, and there was no knife stuck in its gut or machine gun lying next to it. So she had no inclination to try and actually find out their identity.
She scowled, something that her face was growing quite accustomed to, as she stalked through the dark, past conveyor belts and and rancid plastic crates coated in slime. Once again, it looked as though she was gonna end up empty handed. She was lucky, really. Her annoyance at spending so much time digging through the rubbish for nothing was only fuelling her to succeed. Lesser people, she knew, would get frustrated and give up, but she-
Wait. There was a glint, a gleam of metal in the moonlight.
She stood up, looking over one of the conveyor belts to get a better view of it, thinking at first that it was just a handle or a lever, and briefly admonishing herself for missing the second body, a few feet away from the first. But it was lying flat on the ground, and too thin to be anything used to start machinery as heavy as this.
Kat moved closer, walking around the edge of the belt, and a smile flashed onto her face as the swordcane came into view.
P - I - P - E - S
Now private!~
((Rajni continued from Now Look At This Net))
They'd travelled together in a silence so awkward that even Rajni's normal lack of tact and basic common sense couldn't bring itself to bear against attempting to break it. There was awkward and then there was AWK. WARD. you know? Rajni didn't know how much she'd broken through to Galahad and was pretty much bricking it at the idea of testing the tentative...she wasn't going to call it peace, so let's jump to equilibrium. Galahad was steady right now. They were...steady.
Steadily strolling on down towards being two of the last ten alive hahaha oh fucking shit this was just getting more and more surreal. Were the two of them just gonna wander around the place while everyone died around them and then they just turned out to be, well, them? She indulged for a second in the idea of everything just sorting itself out without any intervention from her, but it left an uncomfortable lump in her stomach. Things working out via...absolutely nothing. Sure. Yeah... They'd been really lucky in terms of who they had and hadn't met, though knowing that Tiny had killed after they just y'know, left him to it, that was a bad feeling, just, well, fucking...what was she supposed to do, just kill the dude in cold blood?
Worst thing? Actual worst thing was? She wanted to say that the net thing was retroactively less funny but it wasn't. Genuinely still funny as fuck.
There was a building up ahead, a reeking, stinking building. Rajni banged on the closest door.
"HEY, FISH LOSERS! ANYONE HOME?"
They'd travelled together in a silence so awkward that even Rajni's normal lack of tact and basic common sense couldn't bring itself to bear against attempting to break it. There was awkward and then there was AWK. WARD. you know? Rajni didn't know how much she'd broken through to Galahad and was pretty much bricking it at the idea of testing the tentative...she wasn't going to call it peace, so let's jump to equilibrium. Galahad was steady right now. They were...steady.
Steadily strolling on down towards being two of the last ten alive hahaha oh fucking shit this was just getting more and more surreal. Were the two of them just gonna wander around the place while everyone died around them and then they just turned out to be, well, them? She indulged for a second in the idea of everything just sorting itself out without any intervention from her, but it left an uncomfortable lump in her stomach. Things working out via...absolutely nothing. Sure. Yeah... They'd been really lucky in terms of who they had and hadn't met, though knowing that Tiny had killed after they just y'know, left him to it, that was a bad feeling, just, well, fucking...what was she supposed to do, just kill the dude in cold blood?
Worst thing? Actual worst thing was? She wanted to say that the net thing was retroactively less funny but it wasn't. Genuinely still funny as fuck.
There was a building up ahead, a reeking, stinking building. Rajni banged on the closest door.
"HEY, FISH LOSERS! ANYONE HOME?"
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Pippi
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Make no bones about it; the sword lying at Kat’s feet looked weird as get out.
She crouched slightly, just in order to get a better look at the thing, not that she had much further down to the ground to go with her small stature. What she was looking at could have been a rapier that had gone disastrously wrong somewhere along the line. The blade was thin and about as long as her arm, and as she tilted her head and the angle shifted, she could see the razor sharp edge of it, designed for cutting rather than stabbing like she’d first assumed.
But then, the handle. The handle. Oh, boy, where did she begin with the handle? Curved like someone had stolen the top of her granny’s walking stick, and almost exactly the right colour to boot, it was designed in exactly the worst possible way for someone to properly wield a sword. She hadn’t even picked it up yet, but it looked like you could either hold it like a sword and get serious wrist cramp, or hold it like a walking stick and slice your ankles to ribbons.
Still though. A sharp blade was a sharp blade, and she wasn’t letting anyone else with worse intentions take it.
She wrapped her fingers around the handle of the blade, and she had just enough time to admire how lightweight and easy to carry it was as she stood back up, before a metal banging and a yell ripped their way through the cannery.
Kat jumped, just about able to stifle the panicked yell before it escaped her lips. She spun around, ducking back down again, peeking just over the top of the conveyor belt. The identity of the voice had been muffled by the metal door. The words, on the other hand, were as clear as if they’d been said right next to Kat’s ear, and she frowned as they properly sunk in.
Okay. This person outside was an idiot. That was all she really needed to know.
They probably weren’t worth her time. She really didn’t want another incident like in the decaying house. But, and this was the single ‘but’ that was constantly driving her and that had dictated all of her actions since first waking up in the town, what if they had a weapon on them? Some serrated knife or heavy axe or any kind of gun. Even if they weren’t planning on using it, somebody out here was. There were people who would kill, literally, to get their hands on a sword or a rifle, and then use their bloodied prize to kill further.
The more weapons she took, and kept and destroyed as her options changed and improved, the less resources the players and murderers would have. The better the odds that those with no chance, those pacifists and those who had already lost all hope, could go out on their own terms when they realised the gig was up.
And the better her own chances of walking out of here alive.
So Kat kept herself low, pulled the collar of her blazer over her mouth, and waited.
She crouched slightly, just in order to get a better look at the thing, not that she had much further down to the ground to go with her small stature. What she was looking at could have been a rapier that had gone disastrously wrong somewhere along the line. The blade was thin and about as long as her arm, and as she tilted her head and the angle shifted, she could see the razor sharp edge of it, designed for cutting rather than stabbing like she’d first assumed.
But then, the handle. The handle. Oh, boy, where did she begin with the handle? Curved like someone had stolen the top of her granny’s walking stick, and almost exactly the right colour to boot, it was designed in exactly the worst possible way for someone to properly wield a sword. She hadn’t even picked it up yet, but it looked like you could either hold it like a sword and get serious wrist cramp, or hold it like a walking stick and slice your ankles to ribbons.
Still though. A sharp blade was a sharp blade, and she wasn’t letting anyone else with worse intentions take it.
She wrapped her fingers around the handle of the blade, and she had just enough time to admire how lightweight and easy to carry it was as she stood back up, before a metal banging and a yell ripped their way through the cannery.
Kat jumped, just about able to stifle the panicked yell before it escaped her lips. She spun around, ducking back down again, peeking just over the top of the conveyor belt. The identity of the voice had been muffled by the metal door. The words, on the other hand, were as clear as if they’d been said right next to Kat’s ear, and she frowned as they properly sunk in.
Okay. This person outside was an idiot. That was all she really needed to know.
They probably weren’t worth her time. She really didn’t want another incident like in the decaying house. But, and this was the single ‘but’ that was constantly driving her and that had dictated all of her actions since first waking up in the town, what if they had a weapon on them? Some serrated knife or heavy axe or any kind of gun. Even if they weren’t planning on using it, somebody out here was. There were people who would kill, literally, to get their hands on a sword or a rifle, and then use their bloodied prize to kill further.
The more weapons she took, and kept and destroyed as her options changed and improved, the less resources the players and murderers would have. The better the odds that those with no chance, those pacifists and those who had already lost all hope, could go out on their own terms when they realised the gig was up.
And the better her own chances of walking out of here alive.
So Kat kept herself low, pulled the collar of her blazer over her mouth, and waited.
No response. Good enough.
Rajni had to admit she wasn't incredibly excited about the idea of entering Fishton-upon-Trent just for the sake of it, more that that was a case of like, well, it seemed like an all right landmark to use as a stopping off place for now. She could check in on Galahad and make sure he wasn't having a silent meltdown. As for the loudness, that was a case of thinking back to everything else and realising that eventually it was going to happen and eventually it was going to be absolutely wank. Meeting someone, that was.
So call it ten people left alive, right, that work. Of the ten that weren't those two, they had a handful of killers who'd done the deed multiple times mixed in with a few others like her and Galahad who hadn't resolved to be complete bellends. As time dragged on though, category two was going to shrink smaller and smaller, making it harder and harder for her and good Sir Knight here to find people who weren't going to just attempt to murder them. Safety in numbers was probably not an actual thing after everything they'd heard about going down so far, but Rajni felt like they had a better shot of coming to a not!last man standing dealio if they had three, four of them sitting in a group without having done a bundle of murders, as opposed to her and Galahad stumbling upon the last living murderboy slash girl with a whole bloody armoury in their back pocket.
And if they ran into a murderboy slash girl first...it was eventually going to happen.
Rajni shot a smile and a nod back over her shoulder at Galahad and opened the door, netgun poised at shoulder height as she stepped into the land of fish stench.
Rajni had to admit she wasn't incredibly excited about the idea of entering Fishton-upon-Trent just for the sake of it, more that that was a case of like, well, it seemed like an all right landmark to use as a stopping off place for now. She could check in on Galahad and make sure he wasn't having a silent meltdown. As for the loudness, that was a case of thinking back to everything else and realising that eventually it was going to happen and eventually it was going to be absolutely wank. Meeting someone, that was.
So call it ten people left alive, right, that work. Of the ten that weren't those two, they had a handful of killers who'd done the deed multiple times mixed in with a few others like her and Galahad who hadn't resolved to be complete bellends. As time dragged on though, category two was going to shrink smaller and smaller, making it harder and harder for her and good Sir Knight here to find people who weren't going to just attempt to murder them. Safety in numbers was probably not an actual thing after everything they'd heard about going down so far, but Rajni felt like they had a better shot of coming to a not!last man standing dealio if they had three, four of them sitting in a group without having done a bundle of murders, as opposed to her and Galahad stumbling upon the last living murderboy slash girl with a whole bloody armoury in their back pocket.
And if they ran into a murderboy slash girl first...it was eventually going to happen.
Rajni shot a smile and a nod back over her shoulder at Galahad and opened the door, netgun poised at shoulder height as she stepped into the land of fish stench.
-
Pippi
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That was a gun.
Kat’s eyes widened, and she just about managed to stifle a gasp as the girl barged her way into the cannery. That was, without a doubt, a gun, big bulky and dangerous, armed and raised and ready to fire. It was a different shape and a different size to the rifles the soldiers she sometimes saw around Bellington carried; the… muzzle, or whatever it was called, was a particularly odd shape.
But through the silver light gleaming in through shattered windows, she could see the handle, and the stock, and the girl’s finger resting against the trigger, and that, really, was all the information she needed.
She had to get that weapon off of her.
She couldn’t just stand up and point the oddly-handled sword at the girl, though. That would just lead to the gun being pointed at her in turn, and then she’d die realising that she’d literally brought a sodding knife, and a sword, to a gunfight. A sneakier approach was required. No matter the weapon you had, you always had to obey a blade pressed into your back.
Kat started to move, slowly as possible, keeping her breath held and her blazer tightly pressed into her mouth. Her feet shuffled along the ground, each step taking four times as long to complete as normal. Her eyes were fixed on the girl, watching her every move, ready for any sudden movements or signs she knew what was up.
Her vigilance was her downfall. So fixated was she on keeping track of the intruder, that the rest of her surroundings took a backseat. Her foot snagged on a loose chain, and Kat’s heart sank without a trace, her breath catching in her throat as the metallic scraping echoed throughout the building.
She stayed as perfectly still as she could, taking shallow breaths through her nose. Maybe the girl would ignore it, dismiss it as some animal rummaging through the storerooms or something. Maybe she wouldn’t. Kat was prepared for either possibility.
Kat’s eyes widened, and she just about managed to stifle a gasp as the girl barged her way into the cannery. That was, without a doubt, a gun, big bulky and dangerous, armed and raised and ready to fire. It was a different shape and a different size to the rifles the soldiers she sometimes saw around Bellington carried; the… muzzle, or whatever it was called, was a particularly odd shape.
But through the silver light gleaming in through shattered windows, she could see the handle, and the stock, and the girl’s finger resting against the trigger, and that, really, was all the information she needed.
She had to get that weapon off of her.
She couldn’t just stand up and point the oddly-handled sword at the girl, though. That would just lead to the gun being pointed at her in turn, and then she’d die realising that she’d literally brought a sodding knife, and a sword, to a gunfight. A sneakier approach was required. No matter the weapon you had, you always had to obey a blade pressed into your back.
Kat started to move, slowly as possible, keeping her breath held and her blazer tightly pressed into her mouth. Her feet shuffled along the ground, each step taking four times as long to complete as normal. Her eyes were fixed on the girl, watching her every move, ready for any sudden movements or signs she knew what was up.
Her vigilance was her downfall. So fixated was she on keeping track of the intruder, that the rest of her surroundings took a backseat. Her foot snagged on a loose chain, and Kat’s heart sank without a trace, her breath catching in her throat as the metallic scraping echoed throughout the building.
She stayed as perfectly still as she could, taking shallow breaths through her nose. Maybe the girl would ignore it, dismiss it as some animal rummaging through the storerooms or something. Maybe she wouldn’t. Kat was prepared for either possibility.
She felt like a proper commando like here, some SAS room to room shit. Whip around with the netgun, look in the corners, yell 'clear!'. That was how that worked, Rajni was pretty sure, and the thought was enough to keep the smile on her face, a gentle curl as she glanced around the interior. Dead fish, various tools and equipment, more dead fish, pool of blood--
Aw fuck.
Rajni stopped cold, swallowed. She took a step forward, and then another. Fucking hell. That was Yian down on the ground there, wasn't it? Guy she'd just been baffled had managed to kill, guy she'd left. And yeah she'd known he was dead because she'd heard about it but... phew, whoa, that was heavy. Real heavy. She swallowed again, looked away, then something clattered. The netgun, dipping as she took in the horrible sight of a Yian riddle dwith bullets came up again.
"Hey! I asked if anyone was home! We got a problem, fam?"
Aw fuck.
Rajni stopped cold, swallowed. She took a step forward, and then another. Fucking hell. That was Yian down on the ground there, wasn't it? Guy she'd just been baffled had managed to kill, guy she'd left. And yeah she'd known he was dead because she'd heard about it but... phew, whoa, that was heavy. Real heavy. She swallowed again, looked away, then something clattered. The netgun, dipping as she took in the horrible sight of a Yian riddle dwith bullets came up again.
"Hey! I asked if anyone was home! We got a problem, fam?"
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Pippi
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Kat rolled her eyes as the other girl called out to her. There was nothing, technically, wrong or incorrect with her statement. It was just so… inane, and pointless. A waste of time and breath. It was diverting her own energy and focus away from what should have been the task at hand; seeking out and dealing with the person hiding in the dark.
Obviously she wasn’t complaining about the other girl’s stupidity.
It still didn’t give her a whole lot of options, though. She was still trapped in a dark and shadowy warehouse with a well-armed enemy who knew she was there. She remained still for a moment, ears pricked for the sounds of footsteps or of any other movement. There were two things that were leaning in her favour, here. The first was that she wasn’t looking to kill, just to steal. Obviously that still didn’t mean she would be able to walk up and ask the girl to hand over her gun, but it meant this didn’t have to be clean. Quick, dirty and confusing. She held the element of surprise.
The second, leading on from that, was that it didn’t seem like this girl had a concrete idea of where Kat was. The longer she left it, the more likely she’d be found out. So…
Kat took a deep, silent breath, then pushed herself up, vaulting over the conveyor belt and flinging herself at Rajni, swordcane in hand.
Obviously she wasn’t complaining about the other girl’s stupidity.
It still didn’t give her a whole lot of options, though. She was still trapped in a dark and shadowy warehouse with a well-armed enemy who knew she was there. She remained still for a moment, ears pricked for the sounds of footsteps or of any other movement. There were two things that were leaning in her favour, here. The first was that she wasn’t looking to kill, just to steal. Obviously that still didn’t mean she would be able to walk up and ask the girl to hand over her gun, but it meant this didn’t have to be clean. Quick, dirty and confusing. She held the element of surprise.
The second, leading on from that, was that it didn’t seem like this girl had a concrete idea of where Kat was. The longer she left it, the more likely she’d be found out. So…
Kat took a deep, silent breath, then pushed herself up, vaulting over the conveyor belt and flinging herself at Rajni, swordcane in hand.
Doot doot doot doot... okay nothing, nothing nothing.
Rajni knew that she hadn't just been hearing things, so that left either a particularly noisy rat or someone who was playing silly buggers, which y'know, absolutely wasn't Rajni's favourite game to be enjoying when all this death and also death was going on. She breathed out slowly. Oookay. Time to take this easy and--
"FUCK!" the shout ripped out of her in a startled yelp as movement exploded at her from the side. Sword! Rajni stumbled back, the netgun came up.
As she pulled the trigger, there was too much frantically racing through her head to spare for a witty one liner, though she totally thought of one.
Two things stopped her, really. The sickening crack of impact after she fired.
And the blade that had cleanly slid between her ribs.
Rajni knew that she hadn't just been hearing things, so that left either a particularly noisy rat or someone who was playing silly buggers, which y'know, absolutely wasn't Rajni's favourite game to be enjoying when all this death and also death was going on. She breathed out slowly. Oookay. Time to take this easy and--
"FUCK!" the shout ripped out of her in a startled yelp as movement exploded at her from the side. Sword! Rajni stumbled back, the netgun came up.
As she pulled the trigger, there was too much frantically racing through her head to spare for a witty one liner, though she totally thought of one.
Two things stopped her, really. The sickening crack of impact after she fired.
And the blade that had cleanly slid between her ribs.
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Pippi
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She wasn’t fast enough.
And if that didn’t sum up everything that had happened to her since she’d first woken up, she didn’t know what did. She was always just off the pace, reaching the point everybody else had been, a day after they’d already left. Always two steps forwards, one step back - hell, scratch that, she was only ever making one step forward before falling behind again. A full day for her to get an actual weapon. Another day, now, for her to find somebody with a gun.
All of her grandiose plans, her idea of snuffing out the killers by taking as many weapons for herself as she could, keeping as much as she needed and destroying the rest, stifling them of the resources they needed the most until she was the only one with a chance of escaping this place, all a huge waste of time. Just one big stupid, pointless pipe dream.
And now, as her feet hit the floor and she ran at Rajni, Kat realised that she’d misjudged and messed something up again. It was further to the other girl from her hiding spot than she’d first thought. Not a huge distance, but enough for Rajni to spin around and face her.
To swing the gun up and pull the trigger.
Kat’s eyes widened, fight-or-flight response scrambling, canceling each other out, locking her momentum in place, body refusing to do anything but move forwards.
There was a crack, a noise like a branch being snapped in half, and Kat’s head snapped backwards, her throat instantly feeling like it was caught in an iron vice. She tried to cough it out, to clear her throat, to breathe as panic gripped her body, but the only sound that came out was a twisted, strangled noise.
She staggered backwards, brain feeling like it was drowning, wondering what kind of gun could do something like this before that thought sank, glimpsing her sword jutting out of the other girl’s torso before that disappeared without a trace too.
There was just enough time for her to curse herself, this game, her parents, everything that had led her to this point, everything about her life.
Then her legs gave way. She was dead before she hit the floor.
F08 - KATANA "KAT" LOCKE-BALDWIN - DECEASED
And if that didn’t sum up everything that had happened to her since she’d first woken up, she didn’t know what did. She was always just off the pace, reaching the point everybody else had been, a day after they’d already left. Always two steps forwards, one step back - hell, scratch that, she was only ever making one step forward before falling behind again. A full day for her to get an actual weapon. Another day, now, for her to find somebody with a gun.
All of her grandiose plans, her idea of snuffing out the killers by taking as many weapons for herself as she could, keeping as much as she needed and destroying the rest, stifling them of the resources they needed the most until she was the only one with a chance of escaping this place, all a huge waste of time. Just one big stupid, pointless pipe dream.
And now, as her feet hit the floor and she ran at Rajni, Kat realised that she’d misjudged and messed something up again. It was further to the other girl from her hiding spot than she’d first thought. Not a huge distance, but enough for Rajni to spin around and face her.
To swing the gun up and pull the trigger.
Kat’s eyes widened, fight-or-flight response scrambling, canceling each other out, locking her momentum in place, body refusing to do anything but move forwards.
There was a crack, a noise like a branch being snapped in half, and Kat’s head snapped backwards, her throat instantly feeling like it was caught in an iron vice. She tried to cough it out, to clear her throat, to breathe as panic gripped her body, but the only sound that came out was a twisted, strangled noise.
She staggered backwards, brain feeling like it was drowning, wondering what kind of gun could do something like this before that thought sank, glimpsing her sword jutting out of the other girl’s torso before that disappeared without a trace too.
There was just enough time for her to curse herself, this game, her parents, everything that had led her to this point, everything about her life.
Then her legs gave way. She was dead before she hit the floor.
F08 - KATANA "KAT" LOCKE-BALDWIN - DECEASED
Rajni looked down at the person she'd just killed. Katana. What a name that was, absolute whopper by her parents there. Rajni had never got on her case about it or anything, but she had definitely laughed, like, multiple times whenever it came up again. What could she say, it was hilarious and dumb.
And she was dead.
And she'd just killed Rajni.
Cause thinking about Kat's name and how it was dumb was a decentish distraction from the piercing spike of pain completing impaling her chest.
She couldn't breathe. She wasn't sure why she was still up and running, to be honest, but how these things worked wasn't really—oh there she went.
Rajni collapsed to the side, the netgun slipping out of her hands—turned out that could do way more damage than she thought, huh?
The landing charged the blade to the side and she tried to yell, tried to swear. The noise that came out was wheezy and strained. Aw fuck her lung.
She tasted blood.
There were footsteps from behind her, rushing. Was that another yell and cry? Maybe it was just the wind. Was there wind here? Roaring echoed in her ears.
"Gal..." she managed it, hoarse, gargling. "Give 'em... hell, bl—" she, ironically, choked on blood as she tried to say it.
She closed her eyes, tried to breathe. She thought she could feel the blade cutting through her innards with every tiny move.
Come on. Come on. One more. Just let her have a little more, a little more. Rajni, Rajni you can do this. Come on Rajni.
She opened her eyes, forced them open.
"Tell dad... not...his...fault."
Rajni smiled at where she thought Galahad was.
Her head fell back.
F10 - RAJNI SMITH - DECEASED
And she was dead.
And she'd just killed Rajni.
Cause thinking about Kat's name and how it was dumb was a decentish distraction from the piercing spike of pain completing impaling her chest.
She couldn't breathe. She wasn't sure why she was still up and running, to be honest, but how these things worked wasn't really—oh there she went.
Rajni collapsed to the side, the netgun slipping out of her hands—turned out that could do way more damage than she thought, huh?
The landing charged the blade to the side and she tried to yell, tried to swear. The noise that came out was wheezy and strained. Aw fuck her lung.
She tasted blood.
There were footsteps from behind her, rushing. Was that another yell and cry? Maybe it was just the wind. Was there wind here? Roaring echoed in her ears.
"Gal..." she managed it, hoarse, gargling. "Give 'em... hell, bl—" she, ironically, choked on blood as she tried to say it.
She closed her eyes, tried to breathe. She thought she could feel the blade cutting through her innards with every tiny move.
Come on. Come on. One more. Just let her have a little more, a little more. Rajni, Rajni you can do this. Come on Rajni.
She opened her eyes, forced them open.
"Tell dad... not...his...fault."
Rajni smiled at where she thought Galahad was.
Her head fell back.
F10 - RAJNI SMITH - DECEASED
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Pippi
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((Galahad Matthews continued from Now Look At This Net))
It had been a while, now, since he’d thought about it, but Galahad was reminded very forcefully of the first night, back at the graveyard. Ripped from his slumber within the gazebo, just in time for him to see two people, two of his friends at that, killed in front of his very eyes, too late for him to do anything about it. Truth be told, he’d almost forgotten about Barry and Penny, what with the incident on the beach and the news about Freya taking over his thoughts instead.
And now here he was again, running in to the scene of a double murder when the action had already concluded, too late to actually do anything or to save anybody, and the events of the first night flashed through his mind. It would have been fitting bookends, really, for his time in the Program to have begun and to have ended in the same way.
But it wasn’t him that was bleeding out. Somehow, he was living to fight another day. It was Rajni.
He knew, even before he skidded to a halt next to her, that she wasn’t making it out of this. She seemed to have accepted the same fact. It helped. A tiny bit. He was drained, at this point. Drained not of sorrow that people were dying. That was something he didn’t feel would ever deplete, and he hoped it never would. He was drained of the horror that people here would die. It had happened since he’d first woken up, and it was still happening right in front of him. He’d had a headstart with his mother’s death, he supposed. He didn’t want Rajni to die. He didn’t want to be kneeling next to her as she bled out, sword in her stomach. He cried, as he looked down at her. But he didn’t rage, or panic, or desperately try to stem the bleeding and stop her from slipping away. His capacity for doing so had gone, along with Freya.
Part of him felt sick that he wasn’t doing more. But Rajni didn’t seem to begrudge him that.
So he knelt next to her and held her hand and listened to her final words and her final request. He squeezed her hand and smiled at her through his tears, even though he was sure she couldn’t process either of them. He moved his free hand beneath her head when it fell back, making sure it didn’t hit against the hard floor.
Then she was gone, and he was alone. He knelt next to her for a while, staring into the gloom.
It had been a long time since he’d been all by himself. Never at school, when he was attached at the hip to Freya, and not even at home, with his dad working from his study. Since first waking up, he’d been with Sofia, then with Tiny, then with Rajni. And now he had nobody at all but himself. Nobody to tell him what to do. Nobody for him to blindly follow without questioning.
Galahad stood, and quickly surveyed the scene in front of him. There was a knife a few feet away from the girl who’d stabbed Rajni - Kat, if he remembered correctly - and he moved over to pick it up. He glanced at Rajni’s netgun, contemplating it for a few moments, before scooping it up as well. The chances of it being as deadly as it had been here were seriously unlikely, and he wasn’t even sure how many nets she had left, but it felt right, taking a part of her with him.
He looked down at the two once more, wondering what else there was to do, the sense of something missing burning away inside of him. The answer came to him after a few more moments, and he ran off to a sideroom, returning a couple of minutes later with a large tarpaulin. He unfurled it and threw it over Rajni, covering her. After another few seconds of thinking, he rearranged it so it covered Kat as well.
And that was that. There was nothing else here for him. He had things to do; scant things, vague things, but goals nonetheless. Two people to let others know about. Two people to make proud.
Even if it was for the sake of other people, he had his own path to tread.
((Galahad Matthews continued in If The Nineth Lion Ate The Sun))
It had been a while, now, since he’d thought about it, but Galahad was reminded very forcefully of the first night, back at the graveyard. Ripped from his slumber within the gazebo, just in time for him to see two people, two of his friends at that, killed in front of his very eyes, too late for him to do anything about it. Truth be told, he’d almost forgotten about Barry and Penny, what with the incident on the beach and the news about Freya taking over his thoughts instead.
And now here he was again, running in to the scene of a double murder when the action had already concluded, too late to actually do anything or to save anybody, and the events of the first night flashed through his mind. It would have been fitting bookends, really, for his time in the Program to have begun and to have ended in the same way.
But it wasn’t him that was bleeding out. Somehow, he was living to fight another day. It was Rajni.
He knew, even before he skidded to a halt next to her, that she wasn’t making it out of this. She seemed to have accepted the same fact. It helped. A tiny bit. He was drained, at this point. Drained not of sorrow that people were dying. That was something he didn’t feel would ever deplete, and he hoped it never would. He was drained of the horror that people here would die. It had happened since he’d first woken up, and it was still happening right in front of him. He’d had a headstart with his mother’s death, he supposed. He didn’t want Rajni to die. He didn’t want to be kneeling next to her as she bled out, sword in her stomach. He cried, as he looked down at her. But he didn’t rage, or panic, or desperately try to stem the bleeding and stop her from slipping away. His capacity for doing so had gone, along with Freya.
Part of him felt sick that he wasn’t doing more. But Rajni didn’t seem to begrudge him that.
So he knelt next to her and held her hand and listened to her final words and her final request. He squeezed her hand and smiled at her through his tears, even though he was sure she couldn’t process either of them. He moved his free hand beneath her head when it fell back, making sure it didn’t hit against the hard floor.
Then she was gone, and he was alone. He knelt next to her for a while, staring into the gloom.
It had been a long time since he’d been all by himself. Never at school, when he was attached at the hip to Freya, and not even at home, with his dad working from his study. Since first waking up, he’d been with Sofia, then with Tiny, then with Rajni. And now he had nobody at all but himself. Nobody to tell him what to do. Nobody for him to blindly follow without questioning.
Galahad stood, and quickly surveyed the scene in front of him. There was a knife a few feet away from the girl who’d stabbed Rajni - Kat, if he remembered correctly - and he moved over to pick it up. He glanced at Rajni’s netgun, contemplating it for a few moments, before scooping it up as well. The chances of it being as deadly as it had been here were seriously unlikely, and he wasn’t even sure how many nets she had left, but it felt right, taking a part of her with him.
He looked down at the two once more, wondering what else there was to do, the sense of something missing burning away inside of him. The answer came to him after a few more moments, and he ran off to a sideroom, returning a couple of minutes later with a large tarpaulin. He unfurled it and threw it over Rajni, covering her. After another few seconds of thinking, he rearranged it so it covered Kat as well.
And that was that. There was nothing else here for him. He had things to do; scant things, vague things, but goals nonetheless. Two people to let others know about. Two people to make proud.
Even if it was for the sake of other people, he had his own path to tread.
((Galahad Matthews continued in If The Nineth Lion Ate The Sun))