On another day, Clarisse might have cared that sitting on the floor was dirtying her trousers.
Then again, maybe not. It was difficult to penetrate Clarisse's haze of apathy and depression.
She huddled over and stared at the floor, a million contradictory feelings buzzing around in her head. Despair, helplessness, disbelief, shock, indignation, anger. They didn't have the right to do this to her. Hadn't she gone through enough pain in her life already? Clarisse had thought she'd lost everything - this Sheriff seemed determined to take it one step further.
It sucked. It wasn't fair. It was complete bullshit.
Clarisse hugged her knees to her chest, and wasn't sure whether she wanted to cry or scream. Half of her didn't even care enough to stand, the other half burned with a righteous fury. Since the accident, she'd felt as if she didn't have anything left to live for. Yet... she did not want to die. Clarisse knew that for certain.
But... fighting for her life? Trying to murder other people? Just the idea of it made her stomach turn, and even if that scruple could be overlooked, Clarisse was hardly suited to physically overpowering anyone. So where did that leave her - both unwilling and incapable of dropping her morals and playing this sick game?
"You can run, but you can't hide," she muttered. "Says who?"
Picking herself up and shouldering her as-of-yet untouched daypack, Clarisse walked along the row of ransacked shelves. She didn't have much hope of finding anything useful, but it had to be worth a shot. There was no possible way the Sheriff could have stripped an entire town of absolutely everything, although to have set something like this up, he would definitely have had to be getting help...
Clarisse didn't even want to think about the amount of resources this must have taken. If the guy in charge wasn't confident of getting away with what he'd put into place, then it seemed like a pretty pointlessly elaborate exercise. But if he was confident of getting away with it...
Shaking her head, Clarisse reached the back of the store, opening a door to go through into what looked like some kind of storage area. It wasn't much more than oversized cupboard - crammed with boxes, but it was out of sight.
Clarisse sat down, the wooden box creaking uneasily under her weight. A plan... she needed a plan.
How Not to Meet
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MurderWeasel
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- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
((Enter William Lohman))
This was not what Will had expected when he'd gotten on the train—at least, he assumed it wasn't. He couldn't recall in the slightest where he'd been going, or why he'd been on a train with his class. Presumably, it had to have been some sort of field trip or something. The gas, whatever that gas had been, must have messed with his memory. That was very disturbing.
It was nowhere near as bad as the stuff that he could recall, though. Some crazy man called The Sheriff had told his class over the PA system that they were all going to kill each other. That was why Will had a pack. It was why he was carrying a hockey sick in his hands, trying not to think about Alderbrook's record with hockey, trying not to consider how much more fit any of the hockey players, inept in the game or not, were than him. The stick and pack had been lying next to him when he awoke. This had to be his assigned equipment, the stuff with which he was supposed to transform himself into a whirling construct of death and destruction.
It was pretty laughable. Will wasn't going to kill anyone, no way. Besides his incapability, murder was as wrong as it got. He was carrying the stick because it wasn't all that dangerous in any direct sense. He could use it to push people away if they got too close to him, and he could use it to knock weapons out of people's hands. Of course, this all assumed that people would actually fight. He wasn't at all convinced of that. They were just high schoolers, from a little town in Canada. They'd grown up together, and they knew each other, even the freaks and the bullies. That didn't all magically stop counting just because some guy with a heavy accent told them to fight it out. He wasn't convinced that they wouldn't get attacked, though. This Sheriff fellow had to have had assistants. Maybe they'd been taken to play in some horrid version of "The Most Dangerous Game", and had only been told they were fighting each other to keep them too fearful to mount a concerted resistance. If that was the case, well, self-defense was totally justified.
With a sigh, Will continued, pushing his way into what seemed to be a little store. He didn't want to deal with this. It was insane. The little leather collar around his neck was proof enough of that. He'd tried, very gently, to tug it off, and it had constricted, trapping his fingers and choking him until he coughed and sputtered. He'd managed, barely, to free his hand, getting him a little more breathing room, and after a few seconds the collar had loosened again. It had shaken him, though. Anything could happen now.
And so, he had headed to the store, with an eye on maybe hiding out for a while and eating anything left behind. The contents of his pack were a culinary disaster, more suited for the front-line trenches of a particularly nasty war than for a bunch of kids. It was silly to expect better, given that they were the hostages of a madman, but that didn't mean he couldn't do better for himself while figuring out what to do.
The entire store, however, was empty.
Will walked along it, aware of the noise of his footsteps, aware of the dusty dilapidation. This was surreal. It was creepy, out of a bad horror novel or something. Every shelf was completely bare. The cash register was covered in a layer of grime.
There was a door, though, at the back, standing a little open. Maybe they'd moved everything there for some reason, or perhaps it was a stockroom that still held some of its contents. Maybe there was some ancient canned food that had kept. The climate was dry enough to suggest the possibility. That, then, was his destination. Keeping his hockey stick in front of him, just in case, Will crept to the door, then stepped in.
There was someone else there, after all. He jerked, coughed, held his hockey stick in as menacing a way as he could, just in case. His eyes weren't adjusted to the darkness yet. He couldn't tell if this was one of his classmates, or some crazy minion of that Sheriff man, come to kill them in terrible ways. Best to be sure. After all, none of his classmates would attack him, right? They all knew he was harmless.
This was not what Will had expected when he'd gotten on the train—at least, he assumed it wasn't. He couldn't recall in the slightest where he'd been going, or why he'd been on a train with his class. Presumably, it had to have been some sort of field trip or something. The gas, whatever that gas had been, must have messed with his memory. That was very disturbing.
It was nowhere near as bad as the stuff that he could recall, though. Some crazy man called The Sheriff had told his class over the PA system that they were all going to kill each other. That was why Will had a pack. It was why he was carrying a hockey sick in his hands, trying not to think about Alderbrook's record with hockey, trying not to consider how much more fit any of the hockey players, inept in the game or not, were than him. The stick and pack had been lying next to him when he awoke. This had to be his assigned equipment, the stuff with which he was supposed to transform himself into a whirling construct of death and destruction.
It was pretty laughable. Will wasn't going to kill anyone, no way. Besides his incapability, murder was as wrong as it got. He was carrying the stick because it wasn't all that dangerous in any direct sense. He could use it to push people away if they got too close to him, and he could use it to knock weapons out of people's hands. Of course, this all assumed that people would actually fight. He wasn't at all convinced of that. They were just high schoolers, from a little town in Canada. They'd grown up together, and they knew each other, even the freaks and the bullies. That didn't all magically stop counting just because some guy with a heavy accent told them to fight it out. He wasn't convinced that they wouldn't get attacked, though. This Sheriff fellow had to have had assistants. Maybe they'd been taken to play in some horrid version of "The Most Dangerous Game", and had only been told they were fighting each other to keep them too fearful to mount a concerted resistance. If that was the case, well, self-defense was totally justified.
With a sigh, Will continued, pushing his way into what seemed to be a little store. He didn't want to deal with this. It was insane. The little leather collar around his neck was proof enough of that. He'd tried, very gently, to tug it off, and it had constricted, trapping his fingers and choking him until he coughed and sputtered. He'd managed, barely, to free his hand, getting him a little more breathing room, and after a few seconds the collar had loosened again. It had shaken him, though. Anything could happen now.
And so, he had headed to the store, with an eye on maybe hiding out for a while and eating anything left behind. The contents of his pack were a culinary disaster, more suited for the front-line trenches of a particularly nasty war than for a bunch of kids. It was silly to expect better, given that they were the hostages of a madman, but that didn't mean he couldn't do better for himself while figuring out what to do.
The entire store, however, was empty.
Will walked along it, aware of the noise of his footsteps, aware of the dusty dilapidation. This was surreal. It was creepy, out of a bad horror novel or something. Every shelf was completely bare. The cash register was covered in a layer of grime.
There was a door, though, at the back, standing a little open. Maybe they'd moved everything there for some reason, or perhaps it was a stockroom that still held some of its contents. Maybe there was some ancient canned food that had kept. The climate was dry enough to suggest the possibility. That, then, was his destination. Keeping his hockey stick in front of him, just in case, Will crept to the door, then stepped in.
There was someone else there, after all. He jerked, coughed, held his hockey stick in as menacing a way as he could, just in case. His eyes weren't adjusted to the darkness yet. He couldn't tell if this was one of his classmates, or some crazy minion of that Sheriff man, come to kill them in terrible ways. Best to be sure. After all, none of his classmates would attack him, right? They all knew he was harmless.
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MurderWeasel
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Even though he knew there was nothing dangerous if it was a classmate, Will still started sweating, adrenaline coursing through his system and his heartbeat accelerating. This was easily the most terrifying situation he had ever been in.
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xylophonefairy*
- Posts: 16
- Joined: Tue Aug 21, 2018 6:10 am
((Elliot Day continued from Here We Go Round the Prickly Pear))
This wasn't the isolated cabin.
This was significantly more than one cabin. After perusing the map for a few moments, Elliot tapped his finger over the town, and looked around with an expression of bewilderment. Inside he just felt a bit guilty. While it didn't really matter where they went, he had said he would lead them to the cabin, and instead he had led them in the wrong direction.
"Piece of junk," Elliot said, shaking the compass furiously. It made a pathetic rattling sound, and he swung the bag off his shoulders and flung the compass into its depths. He turned to Vienna and spread his arms wide, allowing the guilt to spread onto his face. "Uh, so it's not the cabin, but maybe this is better!" The sun blasted down on his exposed arms, and Elliot actually relished the sun for a moment. Now that they weren't walking it wasn't so much of a problem, even though it was a lot drier here than the springs had been. The lack of humidity meant that the sweat evaporated before it even formed.
It was becoming something of a struggle to find to optimistic side in their situation. One of the few he was managing to cling to was that they were both still alive and uninjured.
The shop in front of them was a General Store. Picking his back off the floor, Elliot looked at it with interest. He also felt very acutely exposed, standing in the open street as the dust swirled around their feet. Nodding at the shop, he turned to look at Vienna again.
"Wanna check it out? We might be able to find something other than dried meat!"
This wasn't the isolated cabin.
This was significantly more than one cabin. After perusing the map for a few moments, Elliot tapped his finger over the town, and looked around with an expression of bewilderment. Inside he just felt a bit guilty. While it didn't really matter where they went, he had said he would lead them to the cabin, and instead he had led them in the wrong direction.
"Piece of junk," Elliot said, shaking the compass furiously. It made a pathetic rattling sound, and he swung the bag off his shoulders and flung the compass into its depths. He turned to Vienna and spread his arms wide, allowing the guilt to spread onto his face. "Uh, so it's not the cabin, but maybe this is better!" The sun blasted down on his exposed arms, and Elliot actually relished the sun for a moment. Now that they weren't walking it wasn't so much of a problem, even though it was a lot drier here than the springs had been. The lack of humidity meant that the sweat evaporated before it even formed.
It was becoming something of a struggle to find to optimistic side in their situation. One of the few he was managing to cling to was that they were both still alive and uninjured.
The shop in front of them was a General Store. Picking his back off the floor, Elliot looked at it with interest. He also felt very acutely exposed, standing in the open street as the dust swirled around their feet. Nodding at the shop, he turned to look at Vienna again.
"Wanna check it out? We might be able to find something other than dried meat!"
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((Vienna Gogh continued from Here We Go Round The Prickly Pear))
So Elliot lead them astray. Vienna was annoyed for some second, but he was right. She was sure that some of her classmates must be here.
"Okay!" She said, making a cheerful pump to her tone. Walking to the building she wondered who and what could be waiting for them. This seems like a place I'd go, at least. Plus, it's too hot out here.
When she got to the door Vienna cast a reassuring smile at Elliot. It'll be fine, I'll show you. Was the message she was trying to show him, and everyone else. Then she opened the door and said,
"Hello? Is anyone, like, in here?"
So Elliot lead them astray. Vienna was annoyed for some second, but he was right. She was sure that some of her classmates must be here.
"Okay!" She said, making a cheerful pump to her tone. Walking to the building she wondered who and what could be waiting for them. This seems like a place I'd go, at least. Plus, it's too hot out here.
When she got to the door Vienna cast a reassuring smile at Elliot. It'll be fine, I'll show you. Was the message she was trying to show him, and everyone else. Then she opened the door and said,
"Hello? Is anyone, like, in here?"
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Courtography
- Posts: 518
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 11:03 pm
(Rebecca Clark continued from It's not like its for real or anything, right?)
Rebecca had been walking for awhile from the trading post. The town had seemed to be a fair distance away on the map. She had managed to find a shallow point in the river and wade across. It was hot out, but the river had helped a little.
But now she was wandering the town, trying to find someone. She was still planning to look out for herself and her friends first. Screw everyone else. But now what to do? Where to head? She kept walking down the street, lost in thought.
Rebecca had been walking for awhile from the trading post. The town had seemed to be a fair distance away on the map. She had managed to find a shallow point in the river and wade across. It was hot out, but the river had helped a little.
But now she was wandering the town, trying to find someone. She was still planning to look out for herself and her friends first. Screw everyone else. But now what to do? Where to head? She kept walking down the street, lost in thought.
There seemed to be nobody in here. Odd, but maybe Elliot and Vienna were the first to wake up. So they'd just wait here for everyone else. Walking further into the store Vienna looked around. Well, they weren't going to get anything here. Food, water, and postcards were taken from here.
"Huh, we must've been the first ones up." She pondered, looking both ways again. Only this time she caught a glimpse of something out of the window. Taking a closer look Vienna confirmed it was a person.
Without a second thought she opened the window.
"Hey!" She called out, and began waving them over.
"Huh, we must've been the first ones up." She pondered, looking both ways again. Only this time she caught a glimpse of something out of the window. Taking a closer look Vienna confirmed it was a person.
Without a second thought she opened the window.
"Hey!" She called out, and began waving them over.
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Courtography
- Posts: 518
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 11:03 pm
Rebecca turned with a start. What the Hell? Some chick was waving out the window at her. What the fuck is the matter with her? How dumb is she? Unless she was trying to warn her of someone sneaking up on her, she could worry about that in a moment, she had to remember the plan.
Screw everyone but her friends. And herself.
She raised the bow and sent the loaded arrow sailing towards the girl in the window. She turned to check the street, no one there.
So she's just stupid?
Screw everyone but her friends. And herself.
She raised the bow and sent the loaded arrow sailing towards the girl in the window. She turned to check the street, no one there.
So she's just stupid?
She turned, that was good. Yet, there was something wrong.
The girl turned wrong. Scared, but like an animal. Vienna could swear she had a hunter's eye on her, but ignored the chills of instinct crawling up her back. Spiders who had legs made of fear, worry, and suspicion.
The next action cause cracks of doubt in the block. When the arrow started it's aim Vienna gave a desperate scream, and turned around.
All the movies of freedom, comradeship, and reunions were wrong. Hope and luck weren't on Vienna's side.
They are on the arrow's, as it sailed into the back of Vienna's head.
The last thing she saw was a flash of light.
Maybe it was from the occipital lobe as it reacted to the pressure of the arrow.
Maybe it was Heaven.
The girl turned wrong. Scared, but like an animal. Vienna could swear she had a hunter's eye on her, but ignored the chills of instinct crawling up her back. Spiders who had legs made of fear, worry, and suspicion.
The next action cause cracks of doubt in the block. When the arrow started it's aim Vienna gave a desperate scream, and turned around.
All the movies of freedom, comradeship, and reunions were wrong. Hope and luck weren't on Vienna's side.
They are on the arrow's, as it sailed into the back of Vienna's head.
The last thing she saw was a flash of light.
Maybe it was from the occipital lobe as it reacted to the pressure of the arrow.
Maybe it was Heaven.
F02: GOGH, VIENNA (NPC): DECEASED
GAME OVER
GAME OVER
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Courtography
- Posts: 518
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 11:03 pm
Rebecca turned back in time to see the girl fall from view. Had she shot her? A surge of fear went through her, if she had then she was...was a murderer. If she hadn't then she could be in for a world of hurt now. She spotted another shape through the window. Shit.
She could think about this later, now it was time to get away. They could have a shotgun like Brian, or something else. She was just a girl with a bow, murderer with a bow. Shush, she didn't know for sure.
She took off running.
(Rebecca Clark continued in Mixed Emotions)
She could think about this later, now it was time to get away. They could have a shotgun like Brian, or something else. She was just a girl with a bow, murderer with a bow. Shush, she didn't know for sure.
She took off running.
(Rebecca Clark continued in Mixed Emotions)
A creaking sound wiped all thoughts of plans from Clarisse's head.
Clarisse's heart leapt into her throat as she looked up. She hadn't taken this into account. For some reason, the idea that another person would enter the store hadn't even entered into her head. Now she was sitting in a back room with somebody else in the building and no way of getting past them.
She wasn't paranoid, usually. But right now, she was afraid. There was no guarantee that anybody else would have he same hang-ups as she did about taking part in the 'competition'. Heck even if most people did, it only took a couple to participate, and where did that leave the rest of them?
Dead.
Footfalls echoed through the store, masked only slightly by the small room's door.
Clarisse tried to keep her breathing steady, tried not to let the fear show. If she kept quiet, then maybe her hideaway would go overlooked. Such a stupid thing to do... there was no point in hiding if you just trapped yourself in a corner.
The footsteps were getting closer. Clarisse gripped her daypack a little more tightly and rose up off the box, placing her ear to the door.
She jumped back immediately. They were right outside.
The door opened, Clarisse let out something halfway between shout and scream, saw nothing but a brandished weapon of some sort before jumping forward, swinging the pack around with a crash, bringing them both to the ground, her on top of the other.
Clarisse found herself staring down at a disoriented Will Lohman. The 'weapon' was just a hockey stick.
"...Oh... um, sorry...?"
Clarisse's heart leapt into her throat as she looked up. She hadn't taken this into account. For some reason, the idea that another person would enter the store hadn't even entered into her head. Now she was sitting in a back room with somebody else in the building and no way of getting past them.
She wasn't paranoid, usually. But right now, she was afraid. There was no guarantee that anybody else would have he same hang-ups as she did about taking part in the 'competition'. Heck even if most people did, it only took a couple to participate, and where did that leave the rest of them?
Dead.
Footfalls echoed through the store, masked only slightly by the small room's door.
Clarisse tried to keep her breathing steady, tried not to let the fear show. If she kept quiet, then maybe her hideaway would go overlooked. Such a stupid thing to do... there was no point in hiding if you just trapped yourself in a corner.
The footsteps were getting closer. Clarisse gripped her daypack a little more tightly and rose up off the box, placing her ear to the door.
She jumped back immediately. They were right outside.
The door opened, Clarisse let out something halfway between shout and scream, saw nothing but a brandished weapon of some sort before jumping forward, swinging the pack around with a crash, bringing them both to the ground, her on top of the other.
Clarisse found herself staring down at a disoriented Will Lohman. The 'weapon' was just a hockey stick.
"...Oh... um, sorry...?"
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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3442
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- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
There was a noise, a wail of fear or anger, and Will waved the hockey stick, trying to fend off the surely-incoming assault. It didn't really work well. Instead, something swung around, caught him, sent him tumbling to the ground. The person landed on him. While his shoulders and back flared with pain, he hadn't hit his head, not that it would matter for long. He clenched his eyelids shut, waiting for the pummeling or stabbing or tearing that was surely mere moments away. He'd messed up. Probably was gonna be the first, maybe one of the only, people to die.
Nobody killed him.
A few seconds later, there was a noise from above him. It was not the voice of a killer. It was not the growling of an angry bear or other horrible animal. It was a stumbling apology from a girl, a girl who sounded awfully familiar.
Will opened his eyes.
It was Clarisse Huntingdon who had floored him. He knew Clarisse. Well, that wasn't actually accurate at all. He knew her in the same way that he knew most of his classmates who weren't too close, except that she also happened to have been involved in some pretty serious stuff. He didn't know all the details, had tried not to pry. It really wasn't his business. Her attitude had changed a lot, though.
Also, he knew she was pretty cute, but that was definitely not something to dwell on at the moment. Things were plenty awkward already, thank you very much.
"Uh, er, sorry, Clarisse," he said. "I thought you, er, I thought I was gonna get grabbed by some deranged cowboy wannabe."
Nobody killed him.
A few seconds later, there was a noise from above him. It was not the voice of a killer. It was not the growling of an angry bear or other horrible animal. It was a stumbling apology from a girl, a girl who sounded awfully familiar.
Will opened his eyes.
It was Clarisse Huntingdon who had floored him. He knew Clarisse. Well, that wasn't actually accurate at all. He knew her in the same way that he knew most of his classmates who weren't too close, except that she also happened to have been involved in some pretty serious stuff. He didn't know all the details, had tried not to pry. It really wasn't his business. Her attitude had changed a lot, though.
Also, he knew she was pretty cute, but that was definitely not something to dwell on at the moment. Things were plenty awkward already, thank you very much.
"Uh, er, sorry, Clarisse," he said. "I thought you, er, I thought I was gonna get grabbed by some deranged cowboy wannabe."
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xylophonefairy*
- Posts: 16
- Joined: Tue Aug 21, 2018 6:10 am
Elliot wandered a little further into the store, on the off chance that only the shelves near the door had been ransacked. His steps seemed to echo off the empty shelves, and each one was punctuated by a puff of dust that swirled up from the forgotten floor. His converse were turning a murky shade of reddish grey as the sand and the dust combined. He felt unclean just being in this building, but it was protection from the sun. He turned to walk down as aisle towards the back rooms where he assumed the offices and store rooms were. Perhaps there would be something to find there?
As he ventured warily into the depths of the shop he heard a yelp and voices. Alarmed, he backed up, just as Vienna called out the window to a person he hadn't seen. Distracted momentarily by the grimy cash register and the fact that his back was now in the direction of the rooms he had heard the noises coming from, he turned just in time to see the arrow pierce the back of Vienna's head. His eyes widened, and Elliot broke into a run towards her.
"No, no, no." Panic set in immediately, and a cold dread ran over his skin. Elliot bit furiously on his lip as he waved his hands ineffectively over her limp body. The colour was draining from it fast, the wound at the back of her head bleeding profusely. With a hand clamped over his mouth and in a fit of morbid curiosity he rolled her forwards, and tried to dampen the feeling of vomit that rose in his mouth as he looked at the injury. Bright red, matting already in her dark hair, the blonde staining bright red. And there was... he could only assume it was brain matter. Just a little bit of it. Putting two fingers shakily to her neck, and then to her wrist, there was no pulse. Briefly, Elliot considered trying to resuscitate her, but he couldn't figure out the logistics of it. Because to do that he would have to roll her onto her back but there was an arrow sticking out and he didn't want to press it in further, but also he couldn't pull it out because it looked like there was lots of blood and maybe she'd severed an artery and what did it matter when she was probably dead anyway?
Dead. Vienna was dead. Against all his best efforts, his first and only ally had died within hours of this 'game' starting.
So much for looking after her. You never said you were going to look after her. Didn't I?
Too shocked even to cry, Elliot stood up on his shaky feet and looked down at her wasted body on the floor. He wanted to do something, but indecisiveness took over and there suddenly seemed there was nothing in the world. What happened when someone died? Not to them, necessarily, Elliot had long since accepted that that was something he would never know. But what happened to the body? Did an ambulance take it, or someone from the mortuary? Where did it go between death and funeral? Were there forms to sign or fees to pay? Who would ring and tell the relatives? How would her parents find out? Elliot took her hat and put it jauntily on his head, maybe it would keep the sun off.
Looking out the window, he gently touched the edge of the hole the arrow had smashed in the glass. His finger started bleeding, and Elliot clenched it in his fist. Then he focussed outside the window. A girl was stood with a bow and arrow. Seemingly spotting him, she turned and ran before he had a chance to squint against the blinding sun and figure out who she was. From her departing figure, he could see that she was slightly overweight, and his mind began reeling over who she might be.
Glancing back at Vienna's body, his mind kicked into gear. I know what I can do to. Avenge you.
Shouldering his rucksack, and with a thudding heart pumping adrenaline through his arteries, Elliot tore out of the shop and into the street. Already she had disappeared from view, and he resisted the urge to swear.
"HEY!" Elliot shouted, as hard as his voice could go, listening as it barely carried. He started to run in the direction, one hand clamping Vienna's hat to his head, the other gripping one of the handles on his rucksack.
((Elliot Day continued in What I'd Give for a Sunless Sky))
As he ventured warily into the depths of the shop he heard a yelp and voices. Alarmed, he backed up, just as Vienna called out the window to a person he hadn't seen. Distracted momentarily by the grimy cash register and the fact that his back was now in the direction of the rooms he had heard the noises coming from, he turned just in time to see the arrow pierce the back of Vienna's head. His eyes widened, and Elliot broke into a run towards her.
"No, no, no." Panic set in immediately, and a cold dread ran over his skin. Elliot bit furiously on his lip as he waved his hands ineffectively over her limp body. The colour was draining from it fast, the wound at the back of her head bleeding profusely. With a hand clamped over his mouth and in a fit of morbid curiosity he rolled her forwards, and tried to dampen the feeling of vomit that rose in his mouth as he looked at the injury. Bright red, matting already in her dark hair, the blonde staining bright red. And there was... he could only assume it was brain matter. Just a little bit of it. Putting two fingers shakily to her neck, and then to her wrist, there was no pulse. Briefly, Elliot considered trying to resuscitate her, but he couldn't figure out the logistics of it. Because to do that he would have to roll her onto her back but there was an arrow sticking out and he didn't want to press it in further, but also he couldn't pull it out because it looked like there was lots of blood and maybe she'd severed an artery and what did it matter when she was probably dead anyway?
Dead. Vienna was dead. Against all his best efforts, his first and only ally had died within hours of this 'game' starting.
So much for looking after her. You never said you were going to look after her. Didn't I?
Too shocked even to cry, Elliot stood up on his shaky feet and looked down at her wasted body on the floor. He wanted to do something, but indecisiveness took over and there suddenly seemed there was nothing in the world. What happened when someone died? Not to them, necessarily, Elliot had long since accepted that that was something he would never know. But what happened to the body? Did an ambulance take it, or someone from the mortuary? Where did it go between death and funeral? Were there forms to sign or fees to pay? Who would ring and tell the relatives? How would her parents find out? Elliot took her hat and put it jauntily on his head, maybe it would keep the sun off.
Looking out the window, he gently touched the edge of the hole the arrow had smashed in the glass. His finger started bleeding, and Elliot clenched it in his fist. Then he focussed outside the window. A girl was stood with a bow and arrow. Seemingly spotting him, she turned and ran before he had a chance to squint against the blinding sun and figure out who she was. From her departing figure, he could see that she was slightly overweight, and his mind began reeling over who she might be.
Glancing back at Vienna's body, his mind kicked into gear. I know what I can do to. Avenge you.
Shouldering his rucksack, and with a thudding heart pumping adrenaline through his arteries, Elliot tore out of the shop and into the street. Already she had disappeared from view, and he resisted the urge to swear.
"HEY!" Elliot shouted, as hard as his voice could go, listening as it barely carried. He started to run in the direction, one hand clamping Vienna's hat to his head, the other gripping one of the handles on his rucksack.
((Elliot Day continued in What I'd Give for a Sunless Sky))
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Clarisse hastily levered herself up off of Will. Best not to make this any more awkward. She'd... jeez, she'd pretty much attacked the poor guy - and it was only Will Lohman. A chilled out kind of guy that she'd seen out at parties a couple of times, back when that had been the sort've thing that Clarisse still did. Now that the heart-pounding threat had a face... Clarisse felt a little ridiculous.
And then there was the telltale sound of the front door opening again.
And as quickly as the festering panic had vanished, it returned. Just because one set of footsteps had belong to Will didn't mean that another would belong to somebody as friendly as him.
A voice called out from the main room. Looking down at Will, Clarisse held up a finger to her lips, an intent stare on her face. Her point was clear. Don't breathe a word. The speaker seemed vaguely familiar, and probably identifiable with some effort... but it didn't make any difference. Clarisse wasn't giving their position away. Better to spring a surprise on somebody by keeping quiet than to stumble blithely out into the open and get murderer.
Then there was a scream, and Clarisse's eyes widened. Somebody was being attacked!? Someone INSIDE the store!? Okay that was it. They were out of here.
"Get up!" she hissed. "There's a side entrance. Out there!"
Without even waiting to see if Will understood, let alone if he was following her, Clarisse scrambled to her feet and darted out of the door, making a beeline for said side door. She caught a glimpse through the shelves of somebody lying on the ground, but didn't stop to take another look, just bolted out of the door and into the street.
Where to? She didn't know.
((Continued in Who Says You Can't Hide?))
And then there was the telltale sound of the front door opening again.
And as quickly as the festering panic had vanished, it returned. Just because one set of footsteps had belong to Will didn't mean that another would belong to somebody as friendly as him.
A voice called out from the main room. Looking down at Will, Clarisse held up a finger to her lips, an intent stare on her face. Her point was clear. Don't breathe a word. The speaker seemed vaguely familiar, and probably identifiable with some effort... but it didn't make any difference. Clarisse wasn't giving their position away. Better to spring a surprise on somebody by keeping quiet than to stumble blithely out into the open and get murderer.
Then there was a scream, and Clarisse's eyes widened. Somebody was being attacked!? Someone INSIDE the store!? Okay that was it. They were out of here.
"Get up!" she hissed. "There's a side entrance. Out there!"
Without even waiting to see if Will understood, let alone if he was following her, Clarisse scrambled to her feet and darted out of the door, making a beeline for said side door. She caught a glimpse through the shelves of somebody lying on the ground, but didn't stop to take another look, just bolted out of the door and into the street.
Where to? She didn't know.
((Continued in Who Says You Can't Hide?))
-
MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3442
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:56 am
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
Clarisse got up, letting Will regain his breath a bit. That was good. He was less afraid now, okay, pretty much totally unafraid. Clarisse was a lot of things, but a menacing threat to life and limb sure wasn't one of them.
Before he could say anything else, though, the door opened again. Someone called out, and Clarisse held her finger to her lips, silencing Will. He could almost make out the voice. One of their classmates, for sure. There was nothing to worry about, but Clarisse seemed pretty on edge, what with the tackle and all, and Will figured it was better to do things her way, let her calm down and ease herself back to normal. Then they could all find somewhere to go to try to figure out what was happening and what to do about it.
Then there came the scream. That was, okay, yeah, that was a problem. Will became very grateful for his companion's caution. His whole body tensed, and he pulled himself into a crouch as Clarisse gave him instructions. Leave through the side entrance? Sounded like a plan.
He followed Clarisse, pausing for just a second longer than her to look at the fallen person.
That was blood. That was definitely blood.
Will felt like he should have been the kind of person who would stop and try to help, who would see if an injured person needed assistance. In the moment, though, in the face of screaming and kidnapping and terror, he was the sort who stumbled after Clarisse, trying desperately not to get left behind.
((William Lohman continued in Who Says You Can't Hide?))
Before he could say anything else, though, the door opened again. Someone called out, and Clarisse held her finger to her lips, silencing Will. He could almost make out the voice. One of their classmates, for sure. There was nothing to worry about, but Clarisse seemed pretty on edge, what with the tackle and all, and Will figured it was better to do things her way, let her calm down and ease herself back to normal. Then they could all find somewhere to go to try to figure out what was happening and what to do about it.
Then there came the scream. That was, okay, yeah, that was a problem. Will became very grateful for his companion's caution. His whole body tensed, and he pulled himself into a crouch as Clarisse gave him instructions. Leave through the side entrance? Sounded like a plan.
He followed Clarisse, pausing for just a second longer than her to look at the fallen person.
That was blood. That was definitely blood.
Will felt like he should have been the kind of person who would stop and try to help, who would see if an injured person needed assistance. In the moment, though, in the face of screaming and kidnapping and terror, he was the sort who stumbled after Clarisse, trying desperately not to get left behind.
((William Lohman continued in Who Says You Can't Hide?))