Melinda let out a shuddering breath as she heard Maddie's last words through the control room door and she felt her stomach churn. She was glad that she didn't actually get to the see the 'creation process' herself, although Jessica certainly hadn't been nearly as lucky. She walked over to the other girl, giving her a soft pat on the shoulders. 'Jesus christ! She has to be insane! A gift? Who the hell want a dead body as a gift!'
She swallowed as she looked outside, hoping to god that they didn't get another crazy asking to get inside again. "She was fucked up...damn, is that what's happening out there? Makes you wonder how everyone else is doing, huh...? But I'm sure as hell not going to go out to check."
She shook her head, once again trying to quell the churning in her stomach. "So Jessica, you okay now?"
The Opening Faceoff
G04 - Start
Moderator: Sh4dE
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Melinda patted Jessica on her back as she coughed out what little was left in her stomach.
"She was fucked up...damn, is that what's happening out there? Makes you wonder how everyone else is doing, huh...? But I'm sure as hell not going to go out to check." Jessica could only weakly nod.
She shook her head, once again trying to quell the churning in her stomach. "So Jessica, you okay now?"
Jessica placed the chair back onto the trapdoor and sat down, now much less assured of her ability to survive the game.
"No." What do you think? "But thanks for asking."
"She was fucked up...damn, is that what's happening out there? Makes you wonder how everyone else is doing, huh...? But I'm sure as hell not going to go out to check." Jessica could only weakly nod.
She shook her head, once again trying to quell the churning in her stomach. "So Jessica, you okay now?"
Jessica placed the chair back onto the trapdoor and sat down, now much less assured of her ability to survive the game.
"No." What do you think? "But thanks for asking."
"Heh...that was a dumb question, wasn't it?" Melinda said with an embarrassed chuckle, scratching the back of her head as she offered the other girl a weak smile. She wasn't really sure what she was trying to do here. She wasn't a talker. Never was, never had been, and this game probably wouldn't change that in the slightest. She barely even knew anything about Jessica or Maddie or that girl who had gotten mutilated right outside of her hiding spot. All she knew was their faces, their names, and the fact that they had been classmates at one point in time. It was kind of sad, thinking of it like that. Surrounded in an island of strangers, seeing faces but not knowing what lay beyond that face.
In a way, it was that mentality that made for the best killers...the not knowing. The not caring about what lay behind that face and that voice. She wondered if Maddie had thought of the other girl like that. Didn't really care about whether or not there was another life, another story that existed behind it. Just saw her as a hunk of flesh that could be turned into art...or whatever perverted definition of art that Maddie carried around in her twisted mind.
Melinda swallowed. She wanted to survive, there was no doubt about that. She had a future. She had things she wanted to do. She wanted to honor her brother's memory...to do what he couldn't do. She loved her brother...he was the cool one of the family, the goofy friendly one who didn't pick on her that much and always had the greatest stories to tell. He couldn't tell any of those stories anymore and if she didn't survive, there was no way she'd tell any story either.
But she couldn't have been the only one, could she? Jessica had to have a reason to survive, didn't she? A bigger reason, a better reason than "I don't like dying". Everyone had one...they had to have one. If not, then why wouldn't they just turn their weapons on themselves and save themselves the suffering and the pain of hearing about the daily killing? No, everyone had a reason to keep going on and keep fighting...to keep taking in that next breath and hoping that it wouldn't be their last.
It felt strange actually...thinking about these things. Earlier on in the game, it didn't even cross her mind. All she could think about was staying alive, holing up, and letting the whole world just go to hell around here. That was fine. That was easy. It separated her from the rest of the game...kept her isolated from the horror that was probably running rampant on the island. One day, two days, three...however many days she had stayed in this cell with Jessica. It was good. She didn't regret it in the least. She could stay here away from the game.
And then the game came to her.
And now she was thinking about these things and it was bothering her. She wanted to return to that isolation, that sense of "Oh that sucks" that came over her every time she heard the names read on the announcements. She supposed that's how they felt back at home. Just a detached "Sucks for them" and they went and moved on with their lives.
But she had been exposed to the game...had heard that innocent question of someone trying to get in and heard that supposedly innocent person shoot another girl. Had heard, if not seen, someone die before her. And that cracked her little glass cell.
So she had to care again.
It was upsetting...not because her heart would break now every time she heard a name and she'd torment herself hour after hour...but because she could do nothing about it. She has a BB gun. What was she going to do against a killer with real weapons? She couldn't do anything to change the name of the game. The killers would roam free, she would sit her in this watchtower with Jessica, and she would live for as long as it took to make it out alive. The people dying outside would have to remain another face, another voice she only knew from school no matter how difficult it would be to shove them back into that little box.
She sighed and rubbed at her face. "Sorry, Jess...that was a retarded question. I dunno...if you couldn't tell, I'm not good with this talking thing. But let's hang in there...hopefully something like that won't ever happen again and we can just sit tight."
In a way, it was that mentality that made for the best killers...the not knowing. The not caring about what lay behind that face and that voice. She wondered if Maddie had thought of the other girl like that. Didn't really care about whether or not there was another life, another story that existed behind it. Just saw her as a hunk of flesh that could be turned into art...or whatever perverted definition of art that Maddie carried around in her twisted mind.
Melinda swallowed. She wanted to survive, there was no doubt about that. She had a future. She had things she wanted to do. She wanted to honor her brother's memory...to do what he couldn't do. She loved her brother...he was the cool one of the family, the goofy friendly one who didn't pick on her that much and always had the greatest stories to tell. He couldn't tell any of those stories anymore and if she didn't survive, there was no way she'd tell any story either.
But she couldn't have been the only one, could she? Jessica had to have a reason to survive, didn't she? A bigger reason, a better reason than "I don't like dying". Everyone had one...they had to have one. If not, then why wouldn't they just turn their weapons on themselves and save themselves the suffering and the pain of hearing about the daily killing? No, everyone had a reason to keep going on and keep fighting...to keep taking in that next breath and hoping that it wouldn't be their last.
It felt strange actually...thinking about these things. Earlier on in the game, it didn't even cross her mind. All she could think about was staying alive, holing up, and letting the whole world just go to hell around here. That was fine. That was easy. It separated her from the rest of the game...kept her isolated from the horror that was probably running rampant on the island. One day, two days, three...however many days she had stayed in this cell with Jessica. It was good. She didn't regret it in the least. She could stay here away from the game.
And then the game came to her.
And now she was thinking about these things and it was bothering her. She wanted to return to that isolation, that sense of "Oh that sucks" that came over her every time she heard the names read on the announcements. She supposed that's how they felt back at home. Just a detached "Sucks for them" and they went and moved on with their lives.
But she had been exposed to the game...had heard that innocent question of someone trying to get in and heard that supposedly innocent person shoot another girl. Had heard, if not seen, someone die before her. And that cracked her little glass cell.
So she had to care again.
It was upsetting...not because her heart would break now every time she heard a name and she'd torment herself hour after hour...but because she could do nothing about it. She has a BB gun. What was she going to do against a killer with real weapons? She couldn't do anything to change the name of the game. The killers would roam free, she would sit her in this watchtower with Jessica, and she would live for as long as it took to make it out alive. The people dying outside would have to remain another face, another voice she only knew from school no matter how difficult it would be to shove them back into that little box.
She sighed and rubbed at her face. "Sorry, Jess...that was a retarded question. I dunno...if you couldn't tell, I'm not good with this talking thing. But let's hang in there...hopefully something like that won't ever happen again and we can just sit tight."
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"Heh...that was a dumb question, wasn't it?" Melinda gave a weak laugh. Jessica leaned forward and put her head into her hands. It wasn't Melinda that was the problem - it was Maddie. That girl had gone psycho in the worst way. After what she'd done to the redhead, mutilating her.
"Sorry, Jess...that was a retarded question. I dunno...if you couldn't tell, I'm not good with this talking thing. But let's hang in there...hopefully something like that won't ever happen again and we can just sit tight."
"Heh. Hopefully that'll happen." Jessica leaned back in her chair.
Creeeeak.
She wasn't sure that would happen. Eventually, someone would come get them. Maybe even Maddie. And what did they have between the two of them? A BB gun. They were screwed unless someone died in their presence with a gun in his or her hands.
Creeeak.
"Let's just hope someone actually decides to join us. We're not very well -"
Crack
Oh, shit!
Jessica never saw it coming. All those hours of sitting on the trapdoor had taken its toll, having consistently taken about 130 pounds on it for no less than a day straight. Finally, the wood gave out, sending Jessica toppling backwards, causing her to hit her head on the frame.
The blinding pain resulted in her being unable to respond as she rolled down the steps, headfirst, coming to a stop about halfway down the steps, breaking both her back and neck, rendering her unable to breathe, as she could only look and the corpse of Jennifer Steinman.
I'm going to die. I'm ... going to ...
FEMALE STUDENT #15: JESSICA VOGEL - ELIMINATED
17 STUDENTS REMAIN
"Sorry, Jess...that was a retarded question. I dunno...if you couldn't tell, I'm not good with this talking thing. But let's hang in there...hopefully something like that won't ever happen again and we can just sit tight."
"Heh. Hopefully that'll happen." Jessica leaned back in her chair.
Creeeeak.
She wasn't sure that would happen. Eventually, someone would come get them. Maybe even Maddie. And what did they have between the two of them? A BB gun. They were screwed unless someone died in their presence with a gun in his or her hands.
Creeeak.
"Let's just hope someone actually decides to join us. We're not very well -"
Crack
Oh, shit!
Jessica never saw it coming. All those hours of sitting on the trapdoor had taken its toll, having consistently taken about 130 pounds on it for no less than a day straight. Finally, the wood gave out, sending Jessica toppling backwards, causing her to hit her head on the frame.
The blinding pain resulted in her being unable to respond as she rolled down the steps, headfirst, coming to a stop about halfway down the steps, breaking both her back and neck, rendering her unable to breathe, as she could only look and the corpse of Jennifer Steinman.
I'm going to die. I'm ... going to ...
FEMALE STUDENT #15: JESSICA VOGEL - ELIMINATED
17 STUDENTS REMAIN
Holy shit
Holy shit shitting shit shitty shit shit shit
What had just happened. What was going on. Melinda blinked for a few seconds, not really comprehending what she had seen. It was like a slideshow...frame by frame passing by her eyes slowly and mechanically. Everything had seemed fine. They were talking...kind of, they never really talked, did they? Just small talk, but that had been enough. They were talking and Jessica was rocking and the door was creaking and all of sudden, it just broke under her. Just like that. Their trusty trap door that had protected them from the outside world...it had failed them. Perhaps it was true then, that idiom...when it rains, it pours.
She heard the sickening thud as Jessica's head slammed against the metal frame and with every step she took, she could hear her friend's body topple down to the stairs that lead to the bottom of the watchtower. Every crack, every thud, every crunch resounded in her ears and made her stomach churn. And then it noises ended. Melinda stood at the edge, not willing to look over to see the aftermath. She hoped in her heart that somehow Jessica had survived that...had come out of it okay.
It was an impossibility, but she wanted to hope. She wanted to hope for a miracle. A miracle that would negate the fact that everything she had built around her was crashing to the ground.
"H...Hey, Jessica?" Her voice was soft. Wavering. Scared.
"J...Jessica? You...Are you okay?"
There was that stupid-ass question again. Of course Jessica wasn't okay, she goddamn felt through a trap door and tumbled down a flight of stairs or something.
"H...Hey, come on. Answer me." Still no answer. Of course.
She bit her lower lip, trying to will herself to look over the edge.
A shuddering breath.
And then she looked.
She immediately wished she hadn't, recoiling from the sight and stumbling away from the open trap door. She felt bile rise up from her throat and she tried to choke it down. It stung her throat as it went back down, but at least she didn't have to throw up everywhere in the observatory. She gulped again, balancing on her hands and knees as she squeezed her eyes shut. She could still see Jessica's lifeless body lying limply on the stairs.
The human body wasn't meant to bend like that. It wasn't meant to have arms sticking out in weird angels or for bone to break through flesh and skin or for something to look so goddamn bloodless. It was like someone had just cut a string...the way Jessica lay there. It wasn't a human down there, it was a mostly sealed bag of flesh that contained cooling blood and dying organs...a death doll.
She opened her eyes again and shifted to sit down on her ass, grabbing her BB Gun and clutching it with her white-knuckled hands. She had to think of a plan. She had to think of something to do. Despite everything that had happened and was haunting her at the moment, staying in the observatory was still the best choice of action. The corpses outside might deter other people from entering and despite the fact that the trap door was no longer there, she still had the advantage of height and...well, height was a great advantage.
So stay here she would...until some freak accident killed her as well, she was going to stay here. It was still safe. It was still there. It was still the best choice.
She rocked back and forth, tears springing unbidden from the corners of her eyes as she tried not to think of the corpses by the stairs.
It was still safe.
Holy shit shitting shit shitty shit shit shit
What had just happened. What was going on. Melinda blinked for a few seconds, not really comprehending what she had seen. It was like a slideshow...frame by frame passing by her eyes slowly and mechanically. Everything had seemed fine. They were talking...kind of, they never really talked, did they? Just small talk, but that had been enough. They were talking and Jessica was rocking and the door was creaking and all of sudden, it just broke under her. Just like that. Their trusty trap door that had protected them from the outside world...it had failed them. Perhaps it was true then, that idiom...when it rains, it pours.
She heard the sickening thud as Jessica's head slammed against the metal frame and with every step she took, she could hear her friend's body topple down to the stairs that lead to the bottom of the watchtower. Every crack, every thud, every crunch resounded in her ears and made her stomach churn. And then it noises ended. Melinda stood at the edge, not willing to look over to see the aftermath. She hoped in her heart that somehow Jessica had survived that...had come out of it okay.
It was an impossibility, but she wanted to hope. She wanted to hope for a miracle. A miracle that would negate the fact that everything she had built around her was crashing to the ground.
"H...Hey, Jessica?" Her voice was soft. Wavering. Scared.
"J...Jessica? You...Are you okay?"
There was that stupid-ass question again. Of course Jessica wasn't okay, she goddamn felt through a trap door and tumbled down a flight of stairs or something.
"H...Hey, come on. Answer me." Still no answer. Of course.
She bit her lower lip, trying to will herself to look over the edge.
A shuddering breath.
And then she looked.
She immediately wished she hadn't, recoiling from the sight and stumbling away from the open trap door. She felt bile rise up from her throat and she tried to choke it down. It stung her throat as it went back down, but at least she didn't have to throw up everywhere in the observatory. She gulped again, balancing on her hands and knees as she squeezed her eyes shut. She could still see Jessica's lifeless body lying limply on the stairs.
The human body wasn't meant to bend like that. It wasn't meant to have arms sticking out in weird angels or for bone to break through flesh and skin or for something to look so goddamn bloodless. It was like someone had just cut a string...the way Jessica lay there. It wasn't a human down there, it was a mostly sealed bag of flesh that contained cooling blood and dying organs...a death doll.
She opened her eyes again and shifted to sit down on her ass, grabbing her BB Gun and clutching it with her white-knuckled hands. She had to think of a plan. She had to think of something to do. Despite everything that had happened and was haunting her at the moment, staying in the observatory was still the best choice of action. The corpses outside might deter other people from entering and despite the fact that the trap door was no longer there, she still had the advantage of height and...well, height was a great advantage.
So stay here she would...until some freak accident killed her as well, she was going to stay here. It was still safe. It was still there. It was still the best choice.
She rocked back and forth, tears springing unbidden from the corners of her eyes as she tried not to think of the corpses by the stairs.
It was still safe.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Tythanin. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
"Greetings again, students of General's Pride High School,"
Melinda shrieked in surprise and fear, her bloodshot eyes snapping open as she fumbled with the BB Gun on her lap, immediately pointing it towards the hole in the center of the observatory. It took her a few moments to realize that it was just the announcements and nothing else and she let out a shuddering sigh of relief, back to cradling her sole weapon against her chest like some sort of good luck charm. Maybe it was. It sounded nice in her head, at least. That's why she was alive, wasn't it? By the grace of God and by the luckiness of the BB Gun she was holding right here.
She listened to the announcements in a half-daze, rubbing at her eyes occasionally as she tried to get herself to focus. She didn't know how much time had passed since she had drifted off to sleep. However long it took for the announcements to suddenly begin, that's how long. She was thankful that no one had come to the watchtower while she had been napping...it would have been pretty pathetic to get wiped out like that. Melinda hugged her gun tighter, shivering...something felt wrong.
It wasn't the announcements. She didn't care about half of them and had been personally present for the other half. An alarm bell rang in her mind as she heard that Madeline Harris had gotten yet another kill and a strangled laugh escaped from her lips. 'That butcher...is she still leaving mutilated corpses around as a gift or some sort of display for the people at home? Christ, she's scary...she's so crazy...please, please, don't let her come back.'
The Brigadier General signed off soon after that and Melinda breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't know why she was sighing, it wasn't like there were any other people she really knew or interacted with on the island.
"Bzzt, oh wait, silly me, I forgot one. Hah, I'm so giddy with how our aspiring artist is doing that I've lost track of all of the masterpieces that she's unveiled! That's right, this time Madeleine Harris added Melinda Schenn to her gallery!"
She shrieked again, looking around with wild eyes as she quickly put a hand to her heaving chest, gulping in air. She could feel her heart beat. She was alive.
That last announcement. That thing. That didn't happen. Right. Of course. There's no way she could be dead.
Yeah, of course. She was still here, breathing, panicking, scared, all those things you couldn't do if you were dead. Unless she actually was dead and it was just her spirit just floating around and somehow possessing her corpse.
Then her stomach grumbled.
Melinda began laughing again, a cracked, hiccuping laugh. "That's...that's right. Heh, I'm alive! The dead don't get hungry, definitely not!" She laughed again and crawled over to one of the bags lying on the floor of the observatory. She didn't know if it was hers or Jessica's. It's not like the bags had anything distinguishing them. She zipped one open and pawed through the contents. She didn't recognize the clothes.
Jessica's, then.
She giggled, a smile on her face as she grabbed one of the shirts and dabbed at her tearing eyes. "Jessica won't be using any of these anymore...being dead and all. I'm sure she won't mind if I just take the rest of her food, right? Of course she wouldn't."
She grabbed one of the MREs, humming cheerily to herself as she prepared it. She didn't know why she felt so giddy. She just did. She was alive. She was lucky. She was all alone in her lovely watchtower with corpses on the stairs and no one had bothered her and she had briefly imagined herself as being dead. It was great. It made her happy. Even though she was crying, she was happy that she was alive.
"Mom...Dad..." She whispered softly as she put the chicken in between two slices of bread, squishing it between her hands. "Terence..."
She took a bite. It tasted awful. Dry, tasteless, and completely unappetizing.
She took another bite. It was all she had. She continued smiling and crying.
She hoped no one came into the watchtower. She was scared, she was so scared.
"Please help me..."
Melinda shrieked in surprise and fear, her bloodshot eyes snapping open as she fumbled with the BB Gun on her lap, immediately pointing it towards the hole in the center of the observatory. It took her a few moments to realize that it was just the announcements and nothing else and she let out a shuddering sigh of relief, back to cradling her sole weapon against her chest like some sort of good luck charm. Maybe it was. It sounded nice in her head, at least. That's why she was alive, wasn't it? By the grace of God and by the luckiness of the BB Gun she was holding right here.
She listened to the announcements in a half-daze, rubbing at her eyes occasionally as she tried to get herself to focus. She didn't know how much time had passed since she had drifted off to sleep. However long it took for the announcements to suddenly begin, that's how long. She was thankful that no one had come to the watchtower while she had been napping...it would have been pretty pathetic to get wiped out like that. Melinda hugged her gun tighter, shivering...something felt wrong.
It wasn't the announcements. She didn't care about half of them and had been personally present for the other half. An alarm bell rang in her mind as she heard that Madeline Harris had gotten yet another kill and a strangled laugh escaped from her lips. 'That butcher...is she still leaving mutilated corpses around as a gift or some sort of display for the people at home? Christ, she's scary...she's so crazy...please, please, don't let her come back.'
The Brigadier General signed off soon after that and Melinda breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't know why she was sighing, it wasn't like there were any other people she really knew or interacted with on the island.
"Bzzt, oh wait, silly me, I forgot one. Hah, I'm so giddy with how our aspiring artist is doing that I've lost track of all of the masterpieces that she's unveiled! That's right, this time Madeleine Harris added Melinda Schenn to her gallery!"
She shrieked again, looking around with wild eyes as she quickly put a hand to her heaving chest, gulping in air. She could feel her heart beat. She was alive.
That last announcement. That thing. That didn't happen. Right. Of course. There's no way she could be dead.
Yeah, of course. She was still here, breathing, panicking, scared, all those things you couldn't do if you were dead. Unless she actually was dead and it was just her spirit just floating around and somehow possessing her corpse.
Then her stomach grumbled.
Melinda began laughing again, a cracked, hiccuping laugh. "That's...that's right. Heh, I'm alive! The dead don't get hungry, definitely not!" She laughed again and crawled over to one of the bags lying on the floor of the observatory. She didn't know if it was hers or Jessica's. It's not like the bags had anything distinguishing them. She zipped one open and pawed through the contents. She didn't recognize the clothes.
Jessica's, then.
She giggled, a smile on her face as she grabbed one of the shirts and dabbed at her tearing eyes. "Jessica won't be using any of these anymore...being dead and all. I'm sure she won't mind if I just take the rest of her food, right? Of course she wouldn't."
She grabbed one of the MREs, humming cheerily to herself as she prepared it. She didn't know why she felt so giddy. She just did. She was alive. She was lucky. She was all alone in her lovely watchtower with corpses on the stairs and no one had bothered her and she had briefly imagined herself as being dead. It was great. It made her happy. Even though she was crying, she was happy that she was alive.
"Mom...Dad..." She whispered softly as she put the chicken in between two slices of bread, squishing it between her hands. "Terence..."
She took a bite. It tasted awful. Dry, tasteless, and completely unappetizing.
She took another bite. It was all she had. She continued smiling and crying.
She hoped no one came into the watchtower. She was scared, she was so scared.
"Please help me..."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Tythanin. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Melinda Schenn was in trouble.
The young, aspiring hockey player had run out of tears and with the end of her sobbing and murmuring came the silence. A long, undisturbed silence that filled her ears with that incessant buzz that rang in her head and irritated her to no end. She had begun talking to herself just to hear something going on and she paced around the observatory like an animal, her hands tucked at her back. She spent little time on her appearance and her face was stained with dust, her hair wild and messy, and her clothes were covered with crumbs from the food that she had eaten.
Melinda Schenn had never looked down that stairwell again.
It was forbidden to her. She had forbidden herself from every looking down to possibly see the broken corpse of Jessica or the carved up 'art piece' of Jennifer. She didn't need that. None of them needed to see it, but she didn't need to see it all together. She was still sane, although the shadows still frightened her and the silence reminded her of a graveyard. She hadn't heard Adams' voice in a while too, not from the speakers and not from her own mind.
That was good. That was reassuring. But that just meant the next day hadn't arrived yet. But the next day would arrive with her still alive. That was her hope, that was her dream. She would live day to day, hoping, fearing, begging that her heart would still beat when the sun rose above the horizon. She prayed, her screamed, she talked to herself, thinking of plans that would never go through and dreams that seemed farther away than ever before.
It filled the silence. It gave her something to think about.
But Melinda Schenn was in trouble.
The young, aspiring hockey player had run out of tears and with the end of her sobbing and murmuring came the silence. A long, undisturbed silence that filled her ears with that incessant buzz that rang in her head and irritated her to no end. She had begun talking to herself just to hear something going on and she paced around the observatory like an animal, her hands tucked at her back. She spent little time on her appearance and her face was stained with dust, her hair wild and messy, and her clothes were covered with crumbs from the food that she had eaten.
Melinda Schenn had never looked down that stairwell again.
It was forbidden to her. She had forbidden herself from every looking down to possibly see the broken corpse of Jessica or the carved up 'art piece' of Jennifer. She didn't need that. None of them needed to see it, but she didn't need to see it all together. She was still sane, although the shadows still frightened her and the silence reminded her of a graveyard. She hadn't heard Adams' voice in a while too, not from the speakers and not from her own mind.
That was good. That was reassuring. But that just meant the next day hadn't arrived yet. But the next day would arrive with her still alive. That was her hope, that was her dream. She would live day to day, hoping, fearing, begging that her heart would still beat when the sun rose above the horizon. She prayed, her screamed, she talked to herself, thinking of plans that would never go through and dreams that seemed farther away than ever before.
It filled the silence. It gave her something to think about.
But Melinda Schenn was in trouble.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Tythanin. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
(OOC: Ahahah this is sooooo late. Man.)
She couldn't handle this anymore. That was it. She hated this watchtower. She hated its emptiness, she hated the dumb little control panels that didn't even work anymore, she hated the broken trap door that had sent one of her friends to her death. She hated its color, she hated how impersonal everything looked, she hated how she was the only one left inside. She hated everything about it.
But what she hated the most was the fact that she could still hear Brigadier General Adams' voice in her head even though he had stopped speaking for hours. It had made her panic earlier, but now she was just getting angry. Really angry. Her Red Ryder BB Gun lay broken in two halves on the floor from when she had just flipped out and screamed, going on a rampage as she slammed it against the control panels in some mindless way of releasing tension. Her hands had hurt a lot after it, but it had made her feel better.
"If you're still alive to hear this, folks, then congratulations. You have officially made it into the final ten of the Program! ...Well, final seven, technically. Just six more to go, and then you've got a ticket outta here and the admiration of all America. We're all counting on you guys."
Melinda gave a start as the speakers roared back to life and Adams' voice came on. She stood stock still as she listened to the announcements, her brain trying to register the fact that somehow she had made it to the final seven of the game. Her plan from the beginning of the game had worked. It totally did. She was alive and all the rest of the unlucky bastards were dead.
Melinda began to laugh as Adams rattled off the names of the dead. It was a crazy high-pitched laugh that hurt her ears and her throat but it made her feel good. She was winning. She was winning by doing absolutely nothing. And not only that, most of the heavy killers were dead. Especially that bitch, Madeline Harris. That was perfect. She wouldn't have to think about her or her stupid 'art' anymore. Maybe those nightmares about Madeline carving up her body would go the hell away now.
She laughed again. She had no more enemies on this island. Sure, there were people left. Six of them, to be exact. But she'd be fine. She'd be great. Nothing could touch her. Sophie Mason seemed like a threat, but if she was lucky, Sophie Mason would be getting a bullet in the face.
Her feet carried her towards the stairwell and down those accursed stairs. They carried her past Jessica's broken body and Jennifer's mangled corpse. They took her past the door to the watchtower and out into the open. They carried her out towards the rest of the compound. Melinda didn't care. She was alive, she was free. It was perfect.
(Melinda Schenn continued in Opposite Reflections.)
She couldn't handle this anymore. That was it. She hated this watchtower. She hated its emptiness, she hated the dumb little control panels that didn't even work anymore, she hated the broken trap door that had sent one of her friends to her death. She hated its color, she hated how impersonal everything looked, she hated how she was the only one left inside. She hated everything about it.
But what she hated the most was the fact that she could still hear Brigadier General Adams' voice in her head even though he had stopped speaking for hours. It had made her panic earlier, but now she was just getting angry. Really angry. Her Red Ryder BB Gun lay broken in two halves on the floor from when she had just flipped out and screamed, going on a rampage as she slammed it against the control panels in some mindless way of releasing tension. Her hands had hurt a lot after it, but it had made her feel better.
"If you're still alive to hear this, folks, then congratulations. You have officially made it into the final ten of the Program! ...Well, final seven, technically. Just six more to go, and then you've got a ticket outta here and the admiration of all America. We're all counting on you guys."
Melinda gave a start as the speakers roared back to life and Adams' voice came on. She stood stock still as she listened to the announcements, her brain trying to register the fact that somehow she had made it to the final seven of the game. Her plan from the beginning of the game had worked. It totally did. She was alive and all the rest of the unlucky bastards were dead.
Melinda began to laugh as Adams rattled off the names of the dead. It was a crazy high-pitched laugh that hurt her ears and her throat but it made her feel good. She was winning. She was winning by doing absolutely nothing. And not only that, most of the heavy killers were dead. Especially that bitch, Madeline Harris. That was perfect. She wouldn't have to think about her or her stupid 'art' anymore. Maybe those nightmares about Madeline carving up her body would go the hell away now.
She laughed again. She had no more enemies on this island. Sure, there were people left. Six of them, to be exact. But she'd be fine. She'd be great. Nothing could touch her. Sophie Mason seemed like a threat, but if she was lucky, Sophie Mason would be getting a bullet in the face.
Her feet carried her towards the stairwell and down those accursed stairs. They carried her past Jessica's broken body and Jennifer's mangled corpse. They took her past the door to the watchtower and out into the open. They carried her out towards the rest of the compound. Melinda didn't care. She was alive, she was free. It was perfect.
(Melinda Schenn continued in Opposite Reflections.)
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