Second Impressions

[Bikriki*]

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Vincent Holway's feet made an almost rhythmic sound, as he dragged himself out of the tunnels. Almost, because even if his gait was slow and careful, the path in the tunnels was treacherous. At many points, the ground gave way to small holes a few inches deep, where Vincent stepped in and nearly fell and where he had to readjust himself. At other points the light at the end of the tunnel became so dim - for whatever reason - that he could not see the wall he was walking into. Most annoyingly, little puddles of water had formed here and there. They weren't dangerous. But a huge nuisance. Vincent would step into them too, and then they would make a splash instead of a tap. Too often, that splash was big enough to wet his pants with droplets. At one point, he stepped into a puddle deep enough to submerge his left foot. Needless to say, his socks were drenched.

It was a huge hassle, but his upward hike yielded fruit eventually.

Unfortunately, there was a reason for why the light was so dim. The exit of the tunnel had been covered by greenings. That was even more annoying than water, Vincent concluded. He tried to grab parts of the plants and shove them aside, but the foliage proved too much for his pitiful attempts. He could not pass.

However, he managed to form a little hole - a sort of nest - in the foliage. His palms kept the plant matter to the side, and Vincent put his head through it. There, he could see a cabin, and more nature. Most importantly, however, he could see a camera.

The lens of the camera was focused on him. Vincent was able to hear it shift its position.

VINCENT HOLWAY: START

"Good morning."

[Sh4dE]

There was nothing he could've done? He was angry at himself. His heart was racing either because of that or because he fears of dying in the next couple of minutes. Probably both. He could've stopped it. They all could have. That warehouse seemed dubious. They should've just jumped out of the window when they had the chance. Of course it was something criminal. But no one expected them to turn out to be terrorists who want to kill them. If it just had been a robbery.

But Lance had to be honest, he was not aware that something was wrong until they actually were in the warehouse. He was sitting next to Kasumi and talked to her. Then the terrorists came and a loud gunshot came. Dead.

At this point Lance was panicking and was in the mode to escape. He could not recall most of what Danya was saying, because he was too busy scrutinising the bus for an escape route. He had been staring at all the guns, looked into Kasumi's shocked eyes, held her tight as if he was to say that everything was going to be alright. He had to act, was his thought as he stared at the masked men. He had to break the windows to jump out. But he knew no human was faster than dozens of bullets. They had blocked everything and as he looked out of the window he realised that even if they had jumped out of the bus, they probably wouldn't have been able to escape the warehouse.

That was where he considered using his knife to stab one of the terrorists. But that would've been a pointless sacrifice. And, what he wouldn't want to admit, is the fact that he was way too shocked and scared to have acted that way.

Perhaps he should've committed to moral courage. But it was too late. That was the past. What's done is done. So here he was. In SOTF.

He knew the deal.

Lance Adams (Male Student #25) heard a voice emerging from the darkness paired with the noise of the greenings shaking. Lance was more fortunate than the poor soul who had to dig themself out and awoke outside of the hole. He was not prepared for a new person to join him, yet came closer to look whose head actually popped out from the tunnel.

It was Vincent Holway.

Lance was not sure what to say to him. So he just echoed his words.

"Good morning."

[Maraoone]

Out of the roughly 320 million people in the USA, 15 million were in high school. So, assuming a roughly equal distribution between grades 9 through 12, 3.75 million were in 12th grade. There were also around 19,000 high schools in the USA, and, again, assuming an equal distribution among high schools, despite the fact that some high schools were much bigger than others, and you had about 200 students per grade. Add on top of that the fact that their bus was the one chosen for this massacre, out of all the buses headed to the aquarium, and that it happened in their batch, some five years after the last massacre, and you had 65 kids left. 65 kids in the one bus, in the one grade, in the one year, in the one high school, one town, one state, one goddamned country without an army competent enough to find the monsters holding them captive like roosters supposed to maul one another.

Of course, Damion Castillo didn't have all this info off the back of his head. But he and the numbers could easily come to one conclusion. Out of the millions of people in the country, luck had really fucked them over.

B33: DAMION CASTILLO - START

Words could never really capture that inky feeling that settled in Damion as their bus entered the warehouse, as the masked men entered their bus and ended Mr. Dolph's life in the length of a syllable, mid-breath, as they explained their game and its rules that all summed up to 'You will die'. And nothing could ever really describe that waking nightmare, or sleeping horror, as, despite the adrenaline and the dread and the terror, he fell into unconsciousness.

So, he expressed all of this in tears. Quiet, wheezing sobs as soon as he found himself on the ground and remembered that this nightmare would never end.

What did he do wrong? Really, for him to have been one of the high schoolers, out of all the high schoolers in the world, to have been chosen for this, he must have done something to deserve this. Because if it wasn't something he did, then what was the point? Just, why?

He kept on crying as he turned the thought over and over in his head, right up until he opened his bag and saw the gun.

Then, he laughed.

It wasn't even that he was excited about the weapons or that he had a better chance of surviving or whatever. It just looked really, really funny. Like, someone accidentally cut off 90% of the barrel and decided to leave it at that or something. Probably wasn't as funny as he thought it was, but he'd take it.

He took the gun in his hand and focused on how misshaped it was as he got up, took his bags, and walked in a random direction. It kept him laughing much longer than it should have. It occurred to him that if anyone saw him in this state, like Lance and Vincent probably did by now, they would've already dismissed him as having gone off the deep end, but he didn't really care for that at the moment. Not until he actually saw the two around the tunnel entrance. Then, he paused, stopped laughing a bit, knuckles white as he gripped the gun. Lance was the first one to catch his attention, really. But then he looked over to Lance's left and saw just a face from between the leaves. He yelped at first, but then the shock passed.

And then he laughed even harder.

[Bikriki*]

There was, really, nothing to say. When Lance came and caught Vincent's attention, he just echoed the 'good morning' Vincent uttered a minute ago. After that, they just stared at each other. Lance, standing at the entrance. Vincent, his head shoved out from the greenery. They just looked at each other. Kept staring for a bit, in fact. Probably not some kind of great eon that passed, but Vincent could have sworn - or could have known if he counted the time - that it were ten seconds or more that passed.

Either way, they looked at each other.

At some point, Vincent scratched his leg with on of his feet. But Lance didn't see that. Most likely.

"Alright."

Then came Damion. Vincent didn't know what the guy was doing but it was definitely nothing particularly productive. In fact, all he did was laugh at poor Vincent.

Vincent made a point in expressing his annoyance.

"Rude."

[Sh4dE]

Damion laughed about this situation. One way to deal with the heavy emotions all of them are currently experiencing. That's fine. Then he noticed the gun, a type of gun Lance had never used before. Damion Castillo out of all people had a gun, running around with it while maniacially laughing. Lance Adams on the other hand just had a weird-looking knife in his bag. Not his own, he couldn't find it anywhere, no, he now had a knife with weird points. Kasumi is nowhere to be seen, either.

Of course they took away his knife, his phone and his girlfriend. As if one of that is not enough.

So he silently stared at the giggling person with the gun before he asked in a serious-confused tone.

"You okay?"

[Maraoone]

"Yeah? Yeah, I guess?" Just a reflex answer, something he spat out in between bursts of laughter so intense his eyes were almost shut. And then he finally caught his breath and opened his eyes, and the laughter subsided, and both of them were looking at him, frowning at him, and they didn't like him. They were mad at him. He hadn't meant to make fun of him, it was just the image of Vincent's face in the middle of those leaves was something straight out of a photo shoot, something so beautiful in such a dark situation, and he hadn't meant to make fun, but he did. And now they looked at him, damned him with their stares. And they rubbed the smile right off his face.

And then he went back again to Lance's question. 'You okay?' Like, he was crazy. And then he looked down and suddenly, it all came rushing back in, everything from when he'd just woken up, because the gun, though it was still a misshapen lump of metal, it was also a misshapen monstrosity, a gun, and now they were looking at him like a crazy man with a gun, and he looked at it and he laughed again because he forced himself to, because he had to, because it made him laugh the first time and he couldn't think of that dread again, couldn't think of what they were doing now or what they would do later on, he couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't. He forced himself to laugh harder and harder until his laughs started to turn into sobs. And then he stopped. Held his breath so he couldn't cry any more. He wiped his tears with his free hand and hoped they hadn't noticed. And then he spoke quietly, hoping they couldn't hear any cracks.

"Y-yeah, I guess I'm fine. Sorry, it's just the, uh, the juxtaposition and all. You know, his face sticking out in the middle of the bushes? I guess?"

[Bikriki*]

Oh, good. He got the creepy clown with the gun as company. Because you know, if your day started terrible and just continued being terrible, there was absolutely no reason whatsoever to presume - for even one moment - that it somehow would improve.

Vincent sighed.

Alright, he was the laughing stock right now. Well, what was he supposed to do otherwise? Not look outside. Just sit down at the inside of the tunnel and say 'well this is my life now'? Of course he couldn't do that. He would have had to find a way to get out. And Damion really wasn't helping. He wasn't helping himself either.

"Good job, I'm funny. Ha. Ha. Ha. God, I hope you stumble and break your neck you twat."

He returned his focus on Lance for a moment, but then his eyes started jumping between the two boys again.

"Listen, I'd really appreciate some practical help here."

[Sh4dE]

While paying attention to the emotional wreck of Damion Castillo, Lance totally forgot to help Vincent out of the hole, so as it was voiced, he immediately turned to Vincent to offer him his hand.

"Sorry."

Lance pitied Damion who seemed to have been in a rollercoaster. Lance knew how hard the topic of death was. He didn't want to remember how many times he had cried when Megumi was gone.

But since then he could deal with it. Things are the way they are. You can die any time. You cannot change such a thing and you don't have the control over life and death. That's what Lance had learned years ago. He had cried and cried and cried and didn't want to accept that. He did not want to accept to never see Megumi again and to eventually lose it all once life ends. But he did accept that while growing up.

Damion obviously didn't and oh boy, what a time to deal with existentialism. While being in a death game is a perfect timing to deal with it. Well played, Danya. Perhaps that was even the reason why he chose high school students instead of adults. Either way Damion was being dangerous with him wielding the gun. People could get hurt.

So Lance turned to Damion again. He tried to calm the hysterical Damion down with a low, calm voice.

"Hey, I don't want to be rude, but I think it would be better if you gave that gun to me so no one gets shot. I know how to use firearms without causing damage, while you," he took a breath to think how to say it "don't seem to know how to properly use a gun."

[Maraoone]

Damion's eyes snapped towards Vincent. Blood rushed up his neck.

"And I hope you rot in those tunnels, but not all of us can get what we want, eh?"

And then his breath caught in his throat. 'Oh my god', he whispered to himself. He just said that. But he didn't mean to. Didn't want to. But, they hated him. They stared at him, glared at him, and they hated him, two against him. This wasn't supposed to happen. He'd just been laughing because he needed something to laugh at, needed some good spirits while they could still be found, and now people were hating him already. No, he needed to change that. Quick.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry about that, I was just-"

And then Lance spoke so low that Damion almost had to lean in to make out what he was saying. And then he made it out.

What?

Wow. OK. Huh.

He just wanted him to hand over the gun. Like that. Just, hand it over.

He thought he would use the gun. That he would shoot someone. That he didn't know how to use it 'properly.' Lance really thought of him as a crazy man with a gun. Probably Vincent, too. OK.

Well, they were both a loss, then. No chance of making friends, here. They hated him. Feared him. Tears welled up in his eyes at the thought. He didn't mean it. But, it was too late, really. He'd have to hold his own.

"No. I'm not falling for that. Not at all." And he took a few steps away from the two, shoulders hunched slightly inwards, but held onto the gun even tighter. With both hands now.

[Bikriki*]

So this was getting more awkward by the second. Vincent had known that his classmates were a bunch of idiots, but that situation was incredible. It was one thing to run into people who were not so intelligent or just plain crazy. Plenty of such encounters happened. But to think that that the first two people he would meet since waking up were some weapon-grade fools was almost too much. It was insulting, an act of the cosmos that lacked any respect. Yes, even though Vincent had asked for help, he felt positively ridiculed for Lance offering his hand.

He still took it, of course. Going back into the tunnels was even less of an option.

Now, unfortunately Lance had to say something stupid - of course he had to say something stupid. And now Damion was about to start crying because of course it was just too difficult to behave like civilized people for one single moment.

"I don't care who of you gets the gun." Vincent said, not being very truthful. "Honestly, I don't trust either one of you." He said again, holding tightly to Lance's wrist.

Vincent pulled one foot into the foliage. Then the other. His body was engulfed in plants now, and for a moment it didn't feel like he was making any progress. But Lance pulled, and Vincent pushed himself, and soon Vincent was emerging from the foliage. The branches and sticks were scratching everywhere where he could be scratched, and he could have sworn that a thousand bugs just slipped into his clothing, but Vincent would have to be a man - would have to be reasonable and calm for a moment.

With a sudden jerking movement, he became free and fell against Lance.

[Sh4dE]

Lance finally could pull out Vincent from the hole. Pushing against Vincent's shoulders to keep balance himself, but also to stabilise Vincent's balance from the swing Lance stumbled backwards before eventually standing still. He released his hands from Vincent's shoulders to take care of Damion again, who was now in shooting mode. A motion of Damion's fingers and people could die.

Hm. Damion thought it was a trap. Fair enough.

"Sorry if it came that way."

He turned to Damion and tried to confidentially maintain eye contact to the man with the gun.

"I mean, you can give it to Vincent, too, if you don't trust me. But I have to reflect that you are not calm enough to hold a weapon right now."

Lance really did hope this would not come off as a "You are fucking crazy". Damion was in a super emotional state. It did not help that Damion had always been kind of arrogant and probably thought he knew everything and would be able to handle everything.

"Just put it away, then we can talk."

Talking is the only think Lance could do right now. If he had been closer to Damion he could have easily disarmed him, but at this distance trying to disarm him would just result in a dead Lance.

[Maraoone]

Honestly, he would've preferred it if Vincent stayed back in that tunnel. Not cause he meant that whole 'rot-and-die' thing, no, that was a stupid comment, stupid thing to say, but because now, there were two of them, two people who didn't trust Damion, didn't like him, and they were both mobile. And, this wasn't just him being paranoid, Vincent himself confirmed it. Two against one. They could both tackle him, take his gun. Kill him with it. They wanted to, really. They thought he was a menace. That it shouldn't be in his hands. He gripped the gun even tighter.

He tapped his feet on the ground. Wanted to run. He probably should've as soon as Lance spoke, really, but it was too late. Should've, would've, could've. They could flank him now, tear him to pieces, or shoot him, and fuck. They both had weapons too. Maybe Vincent had a gun in his back pocket. Maybe Lance had a knife stuck in his belt. He was breathing heavy now, as much as he tried to control it. He felt so trapped, so cornered.

Lance was still trying to get the weapon. Damion wondered when he would shift from words to force to get what he wanted. Hoped he would see it before it happened.

"OK, OK, first, I actually agree with Vincent. I don't trust either of you. And second-"

He jerked his arms, pointed the gun at Lance. Looked towards Vincent for a second, then back to Lance.

"We can talk, but I'm not putting this down."

That would keep him away for a bit. Give him more time to think of something.

[Bikriki*]

In hindsight, Vincent had preferred things to have stayed awkward. Not to say that Damion pointing a gun at Lance wasn't awkward. In fact, given the current circumstances, it was more than an embarrassing affair for everyone involved. Lance had embarrassed himself when he had to insist on taking the gun. Of course he did that. Not because of some nebulous safety reason, but because he was a gun nut, probably got himself creamed at the thought of holding the weapon. Damion had embarrassed himself by being a rude and useless idiot already. Seriously, what kind of productive input did this guy actually have on the whole situation? Lance had the excuse of at least having helped Vincent out of the tunnel. All Damion did was come up, laugh at him and then start waving the gun around. Even worse, he had the audacity to pretend he was the victim here.

As for Vincent, there was nothing he had to be embarrassed about. Without doubt, he was the most reasonable person out of the three, as low of a bar that was. But because he was the most reasonable, he would escape this little affair unharmed.

In fact, Damion was pointing the gun at Lance, not Vincent. He took a few steps aside, creating distance between him and the other two guys. All Damion did was trail him with the eyes for a moment. His gun remained on Lance.

Vincent was close enough to Lance to pat him on the back.

"Good luck."

He did not turn around, but he walked away - while keeping his front towards Damion and his gun.

[Sh4dE]

How helpful, Vincent. What a wanker.

Lance snorted. The situation definitely was not looking good for him and he could feel his body getting the chills.

"C-calm down."

He was not sure if he said that to himself or Damion. He waved his right hand up and down like a conductor in hopes of Damion lowering the gun.

"What are you afraid of? Is there anything to be afraid of?"

[Maraoone]

For a split second, the gun moved from Lance to Vincent as the latter moved. But when Damion saw that he was walking away, he pointed it back towards Lance. The closer threat. He positioned himself off to the side more, so he could keep Vincent in his sights. He wanted to breathe easier, but he worried this was some ploy to get him to do exactly that. Relax. And then they'd strike. No, he wasn't having any of that.

His arms ached as he held them outstretched, pointed. His hands shook, even though the gun was light. He wanted to put it down so badly, but he couldn't give in. That's what they wanted, what they were waiting for.

He didn't want to talk. Thought of it as playing into Lance's hands. But, the more they talked, the more words were said, the more time Damion had to think of something beyond this standoff. A good plan.

"Well, there's you asking me for a gun right off the bat. That's a little suspicious, no? What, the terrorists didn't give you something good enough for murdering people, is that it?"