Hollow

[Pippi]

((Glen Bole continued from This One Goes Out to the One I Left Behind))

Back into the jungle. Back to the maze of vines and branches that looked exactly the same no matter which way Glen turned. Trees, trees and more fucking trees. He had no idea how he’d managed to find the lake what simultaneously felt like days and minutes ago. Pure blind luck, he guessed. Which, really, had been what had carried him through this whole journey.

Glen didn’t want to find the lake again, though. There were too many painful memories associated with it. It reminded Glen that Anna had been with him then, and how he’d failed to save her, or Ben. It reminded Glen of Carol, who’d been the last person he’d expected to commit murder, but according to the announcements, she had. He had no idea whether she was still alive or not. If she was, had she had allies too? Was she now mourning the deaths of them, like Glen?

Fuck it. Stop thinking about that. There’s nothing you can do now. Just… just fucking concentrate on getting out of here alive.

That was easier said than done. Glen had agreed with Anna, back at the lake; he wasn’t going to die a killer. He’d said that then, and he intended to stick by it until the very end. But then, how could he get off of the island if only one person survived? Was it morally okay to kill someone who was attempting to kill you? Or would that still make Glen the thing he’d been fighting against this whole time? Someone like April?

Glen didn’t want to think about things like that right now. He didn’t want to think of anything for the moment. He just wanted to be left alone for a bit, without even his thoughts to interrupt him. Glen slumped against one of the myriad trees, ignoring the damp that still lingered from the rainfall a day ago. He shot a cursory glance at his left arm, then did a double take as he realised that the previously white sheet wrapped around it was now stained a dark red. Somehow, with everything else that had gone on, he’d hardly noticed.

Glen hurriedly opened his bag, searching for his first aid kit somewhere inside. After half a minute of searching, he found it, and rifled through the contents for bandages. Gingerly, Glen removed the sheet from his arm, making sure not to look at his wound, before wrapping several lengths of bandage around his arm. Once he was satisfied that it was secure and stopping the blood flow, Glen leaned back against the tree. Despite his previous statement, thoughts still managed to intrude Glen’s head.

Somehow I’m gonna do it. Somehow I’m gonna get outta here. No fucking way I’m falling now.

[Casey The Undead*]

((Megan Jacobson continued from This One Goes Out to the One I Left Behind))

Megan stumbled blindly for awhile.

She ignored the announcements for the most part, letting the names flow over her like water. Better not to think about it. Always better not to think about it. She took note of the dangerzones, tuning in right as the Announcer-Man (had he ever said his name? She couldn't remember, nor did she really care, she realized.) mentioned that everywhere that wasn't the Jungle or the Hotel would get her killed.

Well then. Better go there.

She ran.

It took her awhile to notice she was in the jungle once she got there. She literally had to stumble over her own two feet, nearly avoiding tumbling onto her face and smashing her shoulder into a tree for her to notice, actually. She looked around frantically, gasping for breath. Shit, how long had she even been running?

Get control. You are in control. You are a fighter. You are strong. Her breath hitched a bit.

"Okay, okay, so I'm none of those things," she muttered under her breath, trying to get rid of the silence around her. The silence was deadly, horror movies had taught her that, right? The silence was where the killers hid just off screen, reading to jump scare you into the credits sequence. "I'm none of those things but who cares, when you think about it, because no one ever has to know, just me and this jungle and Nicky Sparks."

If she squeaked a bit at the end of that sentence, well, no one but the jungle had to know either.

She slumped against a tree, shaking her head. She repeated the mantra she'd been echoing in her head since the mall- Don't have a panic attack, don't have a panic attack, don't have a panic attack. For a frantic, crazed moment, her mind went too "I must not fear, fear is the mind-killer," but then she was thinking about Martin, with his stupid big brother reading suggestions, and his stupid big brother advice, and his stupid paper back copy of that book with it's terrible dogeared pages and how she had never actually gotten around to reading it, it or the Hobbit or Fight Club or any of a million other things she'd pinky swore she'd read and probably never would, now. She figured that was not a good train of thought to go too.

Instead, she focused on bunnies.

Bunnies were awesome. Bunnies were cool and floppy and had an entire book where they waged war and traveled a lot and were basically the most badass creatures in all of Wales. Bunnies were super cool and only occasionally got mauled by foxes, but sometimes bunnies could be fast and quick-witted, and even though they weren't predators, they weren't killers; bunnies could fight for themselves and live for themselves and make a home for themselves and outlive all of the foxes in the forest.

Bunnies were cool. Bunnies were the coolest. Megan would be so down with being a bunny.

She started a new mantra.

All the world will be your enemy, and when they catch you they will kill you, but first they must catch you. All the world is your enemy. When they catch you they will kill you. When they catch you they will kill you-

"But first they must catch me," Megan said fiercely. "First they must catch me. Well. Good fucking luck finding me."

Less than two minutes later she stumbled into Glen.

Megan absolutely did not squeak even the slightest bit, but she did duck behind a tree pretty fast. She ran through her head, frantically trying to remember if Glen had killed anyone and coming up absolutely and totally blank.

Well. He hadn't killed Sally Connelly or Anthony or Anna, so that was an upside, she figured.

Megan knew she had two totally logical options. The first was to run in the other direction and hope the jungle didn't end anytime soon and her new prisoner-necklace didn't kill her instantly. The other was to take a few breaths, be totally calm, and admit to herself that willingly giving her position away to someone was not, in fact, being caught. It was strategy. Total strategy.

It still felt a bit like suicide.

Still, everything else around her was silent, and there couldn't be all that many people left, which meant that her chances of running back into April or someone else dangerous were pretty great. And it was silent, it was so silent, and running through the woods alone would probably make Megan go crazy in the silence, because she couldn't be silent, silence was the Megan-killer, silence was the total something or other whatever the rest of that quote was.

So, suicide by way of Glen or suicide by way of silence?

In the end, Megan guessed that what she really didn't want was to die alone.

She stepped out from the trees, clearing her throat a bit before blurting "It's Megan, Megan Jacobson, not April or anyone else totally crazy, promise." Her breath faltered and she hated herself for a moment, because wow, way to sound totally crazy. Only totally crazy people protested their sanity. Everyone knew that.

What Megan was planning on saying was I, uh, wasn't gonna bother you in case you were planning on killing me, but I dunno, I've been running around this jungle alone quoting books to myself and honestly I'm running out of book quotes that I know by heart, so I guess I would just really like someone to sit with so I don't lose it totally.

Instead, she noticed Glen's bandaged arm and accidentally gasped "Holy shit did April shoot you?"

She blinked a few times, thinking that she would be totally useless because she knew literally nothing at all about medicine. It took her a second to remember that she was a high school student, and that Glen was a high school student, and that unless he was a Boy Scout or something he probably didn't know anything about first aid either, and even if he did there wasn't a section in the handbook called "How to Treat Gunshot Wounds Given to You By Crazy Psycho Vegan Bitches."

Or, well, she figured.

"Do you need help?" She tried to look Glen in the eye. She was making her decision and sticking to it. Glen might need help, and Megan hadn't helped anyone at all thusfar, and she was so goddamned sick of feeling useless. "Or just a friend?"

It was a risk, a shot in the dark, and she knew it. There couldn't be that many people left and she was just standing in the way of him going home, like he was standing in the way of her going home. But Megan had once been taught that being a bystander was just as bad as perpetrating the crime yourself, and Megan had been a bystander for what felt like years now, and she was really fucking sick of it. She'd barely slept, she'd barely eaten, and she was totally exhausted- but she wasn't a killer, and she wasn't useless, and she wasn't going to stand by while someone who had fucking English classes with her, who'd walked hallways with her for years just bled out uselessly on a jungle floor.

Because seriously.What kind of person even did that?

[Pippi]

It was not something he’d ever have admitted to thinking, and it wasn’t exactly true given what was going on around him, but Glen had one good thing to say about the jungle; it was fucking peaceful as shit. He was just on his own, but not lonely somehow; it allowed his head to clear somewhat. If this was any other time, at any other place, then Glen would really appreciate the moments of calm and clarity.

Then he’d remember just how many classmates that he’d walked past every day were dead, and how he’d been shot in the arm, and everything was back to fucking normal. He’d hardly cared about any of them before the trip, but now, after such a large volume of deaths, Glen couldn’t help but feel sorrow about what had become of them. This whole game was even sicker than Glen had first thought. These fuckers knew that you’d care about your classmates, and knew that in order to survive, you’d have to mow down the people you cared about, and listen helplessly as friends names were called off on the announcements.

From time to time, Glen would check his bandages. There was another red stain visible, but comparatively smaller, and not growing, thank god. He tried not to think about anything, tried to clear his mind, but images of Ben and Anna and Carol and Megan and April and everyone crept into his head. So he’d go back to checking on his bandages, occasionally eating a little of the tiny amount of rations. All things considered, he was not in the calmest state of mind.

It was no real surprise, therefore, that when Glen heard the squeak and rustle that was Megan, his hand instantly went to the gun in his pocket. Just for protection. It could have been April ducking behind a tree, for all he knew, or one of the other killers. Hadn’t Nick killed plenty? And Karl?

Glen considered shouting out to whoever it was in hiding. On one hand, it could be somebody harmless, someone who hadn’t killed. Calling out then might scare them off, or convince them that he wasn’t a player. On the other hand, for all he knew, the person might not even have seen him. Slim chance, but still possible. If Glen did call out, and it was April or somebody hiding, then he’d have basically sealed his own fate.

Glen’s choice was made for him, as the person stepped out from behind a tree in full view. Glen relaxed, and his hand moved away from his pocket, before Megan had even started speaking, because it was Megan, and she hadn’t killed anyone. She’d been there at the mall, with April. Glen guessed she was just as badly affected as he was. She was wittering on about how she wasn’t crazy, or some other bullshit. Whatever. As long as she really wasn’t crazy, that was the main thing.

Glen wasn’t sure what to say next, but thankfully, Megan seemed to be more than making up for it, asking about his bandaged arm. For a moment, Glen wanted to say something about how Megan had been there, and how hadn’t she seen it? But he didn’t want to start an argument right now. Megan hadn’t been focusing on him, Glen was sure, just as he hadn’t been focusing on…

Glen shook his head to force the memory away, and forced a small smile on his face, muttering “No shit”. Relatively tame for Glen. At least it showed he was still capable of sarcasm. Always a useful trait to have in a crisis.

Megan still seemed to have questions relating to his injury. Glen shook his head when she asked whether he needed any help. It was true; the bleeding seemed to have stopped, and the only thing left was the pain, which he doubted Megan could help with much.

“Nah, I think I’ll b-“Glen started to say, before Megan’s second question completely threw him for a loop. Did he need a friend? It was not the sort of thing Glen really expected anyone on the island to say. Ally maybe. Friend? To him, especially? Fuck no.

Glen looked straight at Megan, straight in the eye, with a look more of inquisitiveness than anything else. After a few seconds, he looked straight down at the ground. A small, sad smile appeared on his face; not forced at all this time.

“Yeah…” Glen said slowly. “Yeah, I think a friend would be good right now.” Glen looked up at Megan again, sad smile still on his face, gesturing to the general area next to him.

“Turns out sitting alone with your thoughts is severely overrated.”

[Casey The Undead*]

Megan nodded slowly, slumping down next to Glen. Her legs tingled instantly, going limp. Jesus, how long had she been running? How long had she been awake? What day was it?

She shrugged stiffly to herself, rummaging through her bag for some water. "Tell me about it," she muttered to Glen, shaking her head. She gulped down as much of the water as she could take without coughing, rubbing some over her face as well. "Then again, I probably could have told you the whole 'alone with your thoughts' shit was worthless back in freshman year, if you'd been curious." She smiled at him, contemplated knocking his shoulder, decided that this wasn't a buddy cop movie and no one did that in real life, and drank some more water instead.

She offered the bottle out to Glen. It wasn't like he didn't have his own, but hey, signs of trust and all that. If there was going to be no shoulder-knocking, then there would be water-sharing. So was the way of the world.

"So," Megan said aimlessly to the forest- jungle? Big tree-y area- around her. "Come here often?" She winced. "Jesus, I think I already made that one. Wow. You know we've been here too long when my pick up lines start getting rusty, right?" She barked out a laugh, slumping further onto the ground.

[Pippi]

((Sorry for taking so long; I'm just a massive ball of fail))

Glen moved slightly to give a bit more room for Megan to sit down, making sure she didn’t knock into his arm or anything. He had no idea how deep or serious the wound was; the bleeding seemed to have mostly stopped, or at least slowed down, but there was always the chance that a bit of force, any small impact, could get it flowing again.

Megan started talking, and Glen couldn’t help but look rather bemusedly at her. He had seen her there when April had, presumably, betrayed her. Aside from that, he had no idea of what Megan to gone through over the past few days. Yet whatever it was, Megan seemed to be perfectly chipper and relatively sane. It was the sort of thing Glen would probably have been annoyed about back at school, but this really wasn’t the time or place to get wound up other such petty things as that.

“I’ll be honest, I didn’t really think much about anything, freshman year.” Glen said, the faintest hint of a smile encroaching onto his face. “Cept, y’know, girls, running, how shit school really was. The usual. Not so much 'how the fuck am I gonna survive murder island'.”

Glen nodded in thanks as Megan handed him her water bottle. He had his own, sure, but it’d do no harm to just be polite for once in his life. When was the last time he’d had a drink anyway? He’d been focusing on his arm and what had happened in the mall too much to really notice it, but his mouth did feel completely parched.

Glen took a large swig of water as Megan spoke again. This time, he did manage to break into a proper smile. He had not expected to hear the world’s least original pick-up line on his time here on the island. It was somewhat surreal. Scratch that. Extremely surreal. The jungle backdrop only added to that. Glen took another few gulps of water before replying.

“Hey, I’d be happy for even the world’s lamest pick-up line right now. It’d be better than whatever that fucker on the radio or whatever says. And that ain’t an invitation to him, either.”

Glen shook his head slightly, still a little bewildered at the conversation they were actually having. His hand idly moved across to touch his arm, and he winced as a flash of pain shot up it. There was no sudden patch of red from under the bandage, however. It seemed the bleeding had been halted for now.

“And hey, looks like this’ gotten better, a little.” Glen gestured to his bandaged arm, managing a weak smile. “Every cloud, eh?”

[Casey The Undead*]

Megan giggled, shaking her head. "Hey man, if the announcement guy starts flirting with you now, remember it's not my fault. I plead the 5th." She snorted, leaning heavier against the tree. It felt surreal to be sitting here and joking while the world crumbled into pieces, but Megan figured that Glen had a point. Every cloud. Cling to normalcy while it still exists, or something like that.

She let the silence fall around her for a second, breathing in the air slowly. She'd been running and screaming and fighting and getting shot at and watching people die for what felt like years now -- though it had probably only been a couple days, or, hell, a couple hours? Time is relative and all that -- and it felt fantastic to just sit and let everything wash off of her skin.

She wanted so much (Diet Coke, a shower, April's head on a pike, but not really April's head on a pike, an apology, a hug from her parents, a good book, her dog, to go dancing) but thinking about it made her throat clench. She felt content to just sit and not want anything for a moment, to not have to think about anything for a moment.

Of course, Megan was only good at not thinking about things for a moment, and soon her head was reeling again. "Shit," she muttered crossly. She needed a distraction. She wanted-

She wanted to go dancing.

Suddenly, Megan sprung to her feet, a smile cracking across her feet. "Hey! Hey, hey, hey, Glen, Glen, Glen!" She spun around excitedly. "Glen! You wanna dance with me?" She giggled, trying and failing to hide it behind her hand. "Oh my god, this is the stupidest thing ever, but I just..." She tossed her hands into the air. "I just really wanna dance!"

She started swaying slightly from side to side, rocking to a beat in her head. "Ohhh, I met her in a bar down in North Soho, where you drink champagne, and it tastes just like cherry colaaaaaaaa," she sang, marginally off key and peppered with laughter. "C-O-L-A, collllllaaaaa!" She spun in a circle, giggling and singing. She stopped short and stared at Glen for a second.

"You know this song right? Because it's totally a crime not to know the Kinks, like, capital punishment type crime, you get me?" She waved her hands a bit. "Come on, come on, sing along! You know how it goes!" She paused, trying to remember the next lines. "She walked up to me and...uh....wait, I know it!"

She cleared her throat to sing again. "She walked up to me and she asked me to dance, and I asked her her name, in a dark voice...mance? Er, she said, Loooolaaaaa, L-O-L-A, Looooolaaaaaa!" Megan broke into laughter again. "Oh man," she said between her laughter, "oh man, I suck so bad!"

She broke into snorts again, and doubled over herself with the force of it.

[Pippi]

Silence fell for a moment. Glen was fine with that. For whatever reason, his conversation with Megan had put most of his earlier thoughts aside for now. Sometimes, you really did just need to appreciate the little things, even if it was only for a short while. Glen was perfectly content to just sit here with Megan, until the asshole over the radio decided he’d gotten bored. Glen slowly closed his eyes. He hadn’t had any proper sleep in a while, and although he didn’t want to right now, closing his eyes just felt comfortable, somehow.

Then, suddenly, Glen felt and heard Megan get up. He opened his eyes, just in time to see Megan spin around, a massive smile on her face. Before he could ask what the actual hell was going on, Megan went and said it straight out. She wanted to dance. Megan actually, honest to god, wanted to dance, right here in the middle of the jungle. Glen stared up at her, a look of both bemusements and bewilderment on his face.

What the hell. No, seriously, what the hell?

Glen continued to stare at Megan as she started to sing, swaying a little from side to side, only now, a grin had appeared on his face as well. Megan was totally right; this pretty much was the stupidest thing ever. But on the other hand, Glen’s previous point. A little bit of levity never hurt.

Megan stopped her singing and dancing to ask Glen whether he’d heard of whatever it was she was singing. As it happened, no, he hadn’t. He wasn’t exactly a huge music buff at the best of times. Still, he didn’t say anything. He still couldn’t quite comprehend this was happening, a sentiment he echoed when he found himself attempting to sing along with Megan. He was pretty awful, and he was about a second behind, but hell. It was the thought that counted, right? Shortly, though, Megan had stopped singing and had started snorting with laughter instead. Glen just looked at her, bemused.

“Wow, man. That was probably the lamest thing I’ve ever done.” Glen said, shaking his head but still smiling. “Megan, you’re... kinda crazy, y’know that?”

There was a moment’s calm after that, aside from the continued laughter from Megan. Then, the all too familiar sound of an incoming announcement burst through the trees, and all of Glen’s previous good mood evaporated instantly, his facial expression reverting to his natural scowl. Of course. The fat asshole thousands of miles away had to choose now to broadcast his innermost thoughts, didn’t he? Glen wondered whose names would be read out this time. Had April killed again? Come to think of it, who was actually left on the island?

The smug voice of Victor Danya had something else to say first, however. It was down to the wire now. It was the final four, and Glen and Megan were part of it. The very last stage in this fucking game. Just a couple more hours or so, and Glen knew he’d be out. There was no other option; he was getting out of here. He would try not to break his promise to Anna, he’d try and get out without stooping to the depths of April or Nick, but if it came down to it... if he had absolutely no other choice... he would have to do it. He couldn’t fail now.

The first couple of names passed by Glen without much of a response. David. Carol. People he’d either disliked or hardly cared about back at school. The third name, however, made Glen sit up and look around for one of the speakers, as if Danya himself was somewhere in the trees and prepared to give answers. April had bitten it too. The bitch was finally dead, and Glen didn’t know how to react to the news. She had killed Ben, killed Anna, and had tried to kill him and Megan. But she had just been a seventeen year old girl, a normal girl who’d been forced to kill or be killed by some sadistic fuck who acted as if the whole thing was a game. Glen couldn’t exactly say he felt sorry for her. He just felt sick and depressed about the situation as a whole.

Danya had some more to say, something about the remaining four people. He started off speaking directly to Glen, acting as if he’d just sat back and watched Ben and Anna get killed. A cold, hard look of anger and determination appeared on Glen’s face. What the fuck did that asshole know? Glen was going to get out of this shithole, and the first thing he’d do would be to punch Danya right in his smug fucking face. And in just a few short hours, that’d be what was happening.

Now though, it was time to move. Glen couldn’t say he was prepared for this. He knew what he was up against, knew he’d be against two people who’d killed before. He had an ally again in Megan, and he was decently armed and aside from his arm, in pretty good shape. But nothing ever happened exactly as it should, and there was no telling what Glen was gonna come up against. Glen stood up, feeling the weight of the handgun in his pocket, the glass shard in his other. No time to prepare now. It was time for action.

“Guess this is it, huh?” Glen muttered to Megan. “Final four. Stay close to me, alright? We’ll make it out of here. Somehow, some way.” One last check to make sure everything was in place.

“Let’s go.”

((Glen Bole continued in The Twilight of Our Youth))

[Casey The Undead*]

Megan covered her mouth with her hand, laughing guiltlessly into her palm. She felt a thousand pounds lighter. Sure, it was stupid and she should probably be more focused on the game, but she honestly didn't care. Hell, if Megan was gonna die here, she was gonna die with a damn good song stuck in her head.

"Lame, yes," she conceded, "but also awesome. We can't go through life without having at least one epic 80's-movie moment, can we? I say not." She snorted, brushing some dirt off her pants as she did so. "Also, I literally cannot believe you're never heard Lola. It's the Kinks, man! Everyone's heard of the Kinks!"

Except Glen hadn't, and Glen had never heard Lola until Megan sang it, and Glen would probably never hear Lola. Even if he lived he wouldn't remember the name, or the moment. It would probably fade away. Megan swallowed, thickly, and shook her head. Damnit, she'd been trying to be happy. And, yeah, that sounded ridiculous considering the circumstances, but she wasn't good at serious. She was seriously shit at serious, actually. Even dire situations had humor in them, Megan figured, because that was life. It was hard and dark and awful and you laughed at everything anyways.

Megan directed her gaze to her feet, and smiled again. She felt pretty stupid overall, but. Well. Glen had a point. Megan was kinda crazy.

And kinda crazy had been working for her, thus far.

But then the Announcements came, and Megan's smile was gone.

Final four. Megan had made it to the final four. She coughed out half a laugh in surprise. Honestly, if anyone had asked Megan at the start to put money on who'd make it to the final four, she'd put cash on everyone but herself. Seriously. She'd bumbled her way through the game on blind luck and, well, kinda crazy. Guess it really did work.

She tried not to think about Carol or David, who probably deserved to be standing here alive more than she did. She wasn't going to do that to herself. She hadn't met them, she hadn't seen them, they weren't her fault.

Her heartrate shot up when she heard April's name. Nick had killed her. Nick, who Megan had seen, who Megan had talked too. Nick, who Megan had uttered the words "I don't want you to die" at.

Nick who stabbed a girl in cold blood.

Nick who killed a killer.

What's that old saying, about the enemy of my enemy?

Honestly, it all hurt Megan's head to think about.

She clenched her fists and swallowed harshly as Danya taunted Glen. Taunted the kid for not killing anyone, wasn't that a fucking twist? She took note of the other names as well -- Karl and Nick, both known killers.

And then Danya talked to her.

Megan's spiel was the shortest. Glen got taunts, Karl and Nick got praise, and she got called crazy.

What a fucking joke, really.

Always underestimated, wasn't she? Nobody thought Megan was capable of killing, not even Megan, but Danya "saw the cracks," whatever that meant. Danya saw potential, or something. Danya probably thought she'd be first dead, but she'd surprised them all, hadn't she? She'd surprised them all, and now she was in the end, and she had no idea what she was going to do.

The announcements ended, and the jungle was dead silent again. Megan wanted to scream, wanted to fill the world around her with noise, wanted to crack it in half and make it apologize.

But Glen spoke first, and his voice was quiet and measured, and she knew she had to follow suit. She nodded when he told her to stay close. She didn't know what she'd do if they were the last two. She didn't want to know.

Glen started to move, and Megan followed silently.

((Megan Jacobson continued in The Twilight of Our Youth))