Delilah hadn't expected the boy.
They had been quiet; she could have sworn they had been. Staying out of everyone's spotlight was what she was good at. She was just the stage crew after all. So when the spotlight shined onto the direction of Pepper and herself; she froze, solid like a block of ice, if that ice had a heart beat going at one hundred miles per hour.
She felt like a criminal, who had just been caught red handed in the middle of a midnight escape by the prison guards.
The boy approached. She couldn't see who it was, but the fact that he showed no fear at the thought of two people sneaking around in the darkness, in a killer take all situation, unnerved her. That bravery might have attributed to the fact that he possibly had a concealed weapon on his persons. Or the fact that he had just spotted two weak looking girls for easy pickings. Or maybe he was just crazy. None of those were good signs.
Delilah wanted to run. She wanted run for her life and to hide in the darkness and never turn back, but she could not do any of these things. Pepper was here with her and she could not just leave her to fend for herself alone. Pepper wasn't a fast person. Sure, Delilah would have gotten away, but at the expense of her best friend, and she could definitely not stomach the thought of being responsible for Pepper's death. They were like sisters and if anything were to happen to her, Delilah didn't know what she would do with herself.
The light was right on her face next, as her feet continued to be firmly planted onto the ground. Her knees wobbled ever so slightly in the night, her bones shook, not from the cold, but from undeniable fear. As the boy stepped closer and closer; Delilah's hands searched for the hilt of her sabre as she had done twice before. It would be over eventually, one way or the other.
Instead, the boy stopped in his tracks. The bright light stung at Delilah's eyes, as her hands motioned out of instinct for the boy to lower it. He had a gun didn't he? And she couldn't do a thing except to await her execution, like a western war criminal that she was. Instead he spoke her name.
It was him. She knew that voice. He was Leo Raclaw, a boy with a reputation for being very lazy and a bit of jerk as well. She didn't know whether she was to continue being scared or be annoyed, as the basic response to his voice.
Next thing she knew, he was inviting both her and Pepper to enter the nearby home, which contained more of her classmates. To that, Delilah's mind immediately thought of the word: Trap. On the other hand, the fact that he was already telling her that there were others already in the home told her that it might not be a trap after all. Yet, the thought of being around a bunch of her classmates, after killing two of them made Delilah especially nervous. The quick stare Leo had given to her, didn't help.
Delilah temporarily flinched at the touch of Pepper's hand onto her shoulder. Pepper insisted they follow Leo and go in. Delilah wanted to object, but she knew she was in no position to reject said offer, as she was sure that it was one offer she could not refuse.
"Um, okay."
The young French Canadian teenager said it as sweetly as she could to Leo and Pepper, in addition to a smile which she hoped didn't come off as absolutely nervous and unsure. Which if it did, she could chalk off to her regular personality. Who knows? Maybe Pepper was right with her judgment here. Maybe Leo and the rest in that house were trustable people, who could keep them both safe. They probably didn't know or suspect anything about what she had done to Patrick and that sick bully, Richard. In fact they didn't have to know. She would never tell them and she was sure Pepper wouldn't either.
If anything went wrong, she would already know what to do.
The girls walked in, Delilah was careful to stay in the very back, attempting to remedy her trembling by squeezing her bag as she had done back in the mines that morning. She thought of Sam again, wondering and hoping he was safe and alive as well. She felt like a horrible, horrible person for leaving him like that after all he had done to help her.
The group began to take notice of her and Pepper, with the flashlights beaming at each of their positions. With every set of eyes on her, the tightening of her arms around her pack would strengthen. They seemed safe enough, though. Maybe if this group was as nice as Pepper made them out to be; they could help her find Sam and Clair.
Yes, it was a good thought, which was abruptly ruined by the flashlight going to the face of one girl in the room whom Delilah recognized immediately.
It was the girl with the gun, whom Delilah had seen near the bridge. She was the same one who witnessed Richard's attack and Delilah's retaliation. For a second, Delilah could sense her breathing stop, as her hand went to Pepper's sleeve. It was a gentle tug, telling Pepper that they had to leave.
As if things couldn't get any worse; a voice out of nowhere started up from what seemed like all around them. It was the voice of that evil Sheriff who kidnapped them and made them play this disturbing game. His voice alone almost made Delilah start to cry.
Then to Delilah's horror: He started announcing the deaths one by one.
There were other killers too; people whose sprees made her seem like an angel: Rebecca and one of the Simons'. She had been proven right the whole time, to be extra careful around her classmates after all. There were dangerous people out there and she couldn't afford to trust most of them.
She could feel her heart sink from her chest as a huge chill ran up her spine, in this room filled with her classmates en masse, about to hear every single atrocity she had committed so far.
No, no! This wasn't supposed to happen. She had no idea they were going to announce these things for everyone to hear. She wasn't safe around anyone anymore. They'd all hear about what she had done and they would never forgive her. She had committed an unforgivable Faux pas and soon they would hunt her down and punish her for it.
Delilah had been so concerned about her current situation as a result of the ongoing announcement, that she stopped paying attention halfway through. The announcements could keep them all preoccupied, and she could use the opportunity to leave before any of them could do anything bad to her.
"Pepper." She whispered, gripping onto her best friend's sleeve and willing her to leave the building as quickly as they could. Her feet were already moving.
"Dépèche toi. We must go!"
Devil Nights
Private
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Cash Money*
- Posts: 58
- Joined: Tue Aug 21, 2018 4:14 am
Martin kicked back in the chair for a little while, halfway between dreams of home and the reality of the Wild West he was stuck in. Voices rose out of the dark fog clouding his mind and pulling him into a deeper sleep. Sure, there were those of people talking to each other to make sure they had the whole house covered, but also those of his little sisters, Alessandra and Teresa. They were hazy and indistinct, as if being shouted from far across the astral plane, echoing before being cut short as Martin nearly flinched from the volume of the imaginary sounds. Which voices were real and which were only the products of a fatigued mind slowly became harder to tell. If he'd have been a little more alert, he would have felt bad about taking a nap while everyone else was scurrying around, but inertia won this time. Or at least it did until Leo's voice stuck out amongst the crescendoing cacophony:
"Look, there's more of us inside... you're the first we've found."
They had finally found somebody else. This was great! Martin had hardly expected that they would make any real progress simply by staying put overnight, but if somebody else wanted to spend the night in a house, of course they would find someone that way. Martin hopped out of the chair, eager to greet the new classmate and offer them a space in their (now quite crowded) home.
Martin rounded the corner out of the living room into the entryway, only to find out that there was not just one but two of his classmates there. The faces of Pepper and Delilah were lit up by the harsh beam of the flashlight, the colors becoming washed out in the dull yellow light. They were best friends, so it was no surprise they were traveling with each other. They looked scared out of their wits, too. Something was different, though; Pepper, the more timid of the two, looked positively brave next to Delilah, who looked like she wanted to run away right that second. Martin had no idea why she'd want to be away from company so bad... at least not until the announcements came on.
The voice of the Sheriff seemed to rise out of the earth itself, emanating from the walls and spilling out of the air. And what it said was, for Martin, quite literally unbelievable.
He listed student after student who had gotten killed over the past day or so. At first, Martin was deathly afraid that his classmates were dying left and right, and that one of the culprits was right there in the room. His stern gaze turned into one of surprise, and if the flashlight had been on him, his face would have simply read, Delilah, how could you?
But the list went on. And on. And on and on and on. The body count was, quite frankly, ridiculous. It was so unthinkable that a dozen or so of their classmates had died that day that Martin suspected, no, knew, that it was just a ploy to egg them on. To encourage them a little, get the blood spilling. It's okay! Everyone else is doing it! Don't you want to get revenge? This guy really was desperate if he was resorting to telling outrageous lies. He was obviously trying to force something to happen that was never going to happen. Because it wouldn't. It hadn’t. Right?
Besides, the few kids he'd decided were going to be the "killers" were obviously fake. Simon Mattheson? The quiet kid? Of course everybody's going to be suspicious of "the quiet kid," just give him a few "kills" to amp up the paranoia. But you can't just have the weird ones start "murdering", or else nobody feels like their friends are doing it too. So he picks a couple of normal kids. Scratch that, he picks a couple of girls. Serial killers are always guys, right? Pick girls and suddenly the game has completely changed. Now there's nobody you can trust. The shy girl who sat next to you on the train here? Can you see her across the way? Is that a maniacal gleam in her eye? Why not shoot first before you have to find out?
The obvious fearmongering, coupled with the reminder thrown in at the end not to mess with the collars, just gave Martin more confidence. That bastard didn't even say what the collar did to Bruce, likely because it really did nothing. The entire announcement just had to be fake. Other people in the room certainly seemed to believe what the Sheriff had to say, though, enough so that Delilah now looked positively panicked, telling Pepper to get away before they thought she had done something horrible. Martin was a bit puzzled that she didn't just defend herself. Did she think they wouldn't believe her? What's the word of one psychopath with a PA system against that of friends? Martin had to reassure her.
"Delilah, we know you didn't do anything."
"Look, there's more of us inside... you're the first we've found."
They had finally found somebody else. This was great! Martin had hardly expected that they would make any real progress simply by staying put overnight, but if somebody else wanted to spend the night in a house, of course they would find someone that way. Martin hopped out of the chair, eager to greet the new classmate and offer them a space in their (now quite crowded) home.
Martin rounded the corner out of the living room into the entryway, only to find out that there was not just one but two of his classmates there. The faces of Pepper and Delilah were lit up by the harsh beam of the flashlight, the colors becoming washed out in the dull yellow light. They were best friends, so it was no surprise they were traveling with each other. They looked scared out of their wits, too. Something was different, though; Pepper, the more timid of the two, looked positively brave next to Delilah, who looked like she wanted to run away right that second. Martin had no idea why she'd want to be away from company so bad... at least not until the announcements came on.
The voice of the Sheriff seemed to rise out of the earth itself, emanating from the walls and spilling out of the air. And what it said was, for Martin, quite literally unbelievable.
He listed student after student who had gotten killed over the past day or so. At first, Martin was deathly afraid that his classmates were dying left and right, and that one of the culprits was right there in the room. His stern gaze turned into one of surprise, and if the flashlight had been on him, his face would have simply read, Delilah, how could you?
But the list went on. And on. And on and on and on. The body count was, quite frankly, ridiculous. It was so unthinkable that a dozen or so of their classmates had died that day that Martin suspected, no, knew, that it was just a ploy to egg them on. To encourage them a little, get the blood spilling. It's okay! Everyone else is doing it! Don't you want to get revenge? This guy really was desperate if he was resorting to telling outrageous lies. He was obviously trying to force something to happen that was never going to happen. Because it wouldn't. It hadn’t. Right?
Besides, the few kids he'd decided were going to be the "killers" were obviously fake. Simon Mattheson? The quiet kid? Of course everybody's going to be suspicious of "the quiet kid," just give him a few "kills" to amp up the paranoia. But you can't just have the weird ones start "murdering", or else nobody feels like their friends are doing it too. So he picks a couple of normal kids. Scratch that, he picks a couple of girls. Serial killers are always guys, right? Pick girls and suddenly the game has completely changed. Now there's nobody you can trust. The shy girl who sat next to you on the train here? Can you see her across the way? Is that a maniacal gleam in her eye? Why not shoot first before you have to find out?
The obvious fearmongering, coupled with the reminder thrown in at the end not to mess with the collars, just gave Martin more confidence. That bastard didn't even say what the collar did to Bruce, likely because it really did nothing. The entire announcement just had to be fake. Other people in the room certainly seemed to believe what the Sheriff had to say, though, enough so that Delilah now looked positively panicked, telling Pepper to get away before they thought she had done something horrible. Martin was a bit puzzled that she didn't just defend herself. Did she think they wouldn't believe her? What's the word of one psychopath with a PA system against that of friends? Martin had to reassure her.
"Delilah, we know you didn't do anything."
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Courtography
- Posts: 518
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 11:03 pm
Roy asked her if something was on her mind. "Oh I'm just worried, y'know there's a lot more people in our class and they're out in the desert alone..." It wasn't good. What if they got scared and started freaking out? Then accidents could happen and oh gosh.
Then she heard voices outside and Leo came back in, followed by two girls, Delilah and Pepper. They looked nervous. Were they scared? Had something bad happened?
And then she found out why as the horrible words had come out of the air. They had failed. People had died. Some were accidents, like the snake bite. But people had killed. Delilah had killed.
"What? How could you do that!"
Then she heard voices outside and Leo came back in, followed by two girls, Delilah and Pepper. They looked nervous. Were they scared? Had something bad happened?
And then she found out why as the horrible words had come out of the air. They had failed. People had died. Some were accidents, like the snake bite. But people had killed. Delilah had killed.
"What? How could you do that!"
"Look, there's more of us inside. We've been looking for others, but you're the first we've found."
Holly took a second to look up, hearing Leo's voice again. It sounded like he was talking to someone new. Well, that was a relief. The bigger the group, the more secure everyone was.
It only took a few seconds for Leo to appear at the doorway, two figures standing behind him. Holly squinted a bit, having trouble seeing them in the pale moonlight.
Then she practically leaped for joy.
It was Pepper! Oh god yes, she wanted to squeal and run up and hug her and finally get to talk to someone familiar in this forsaken desert. She felt hopeful, and alive, and-
She froze.
Delilah.
Richard.
All the blood.
The girl looked tense. She ought to, considering what she had done.
Holly reached back, felt the gun in her back pocket. She could do it.
She could end this.
She took a deep, ragged breath and stood up. She thought she heard someone else say something, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. She had tunnel vision, focusing in on what now felt more like a monster than a person.
Speakers came to life. The man from the train started talking. Names, names of her classmates were being said. But Holly couldn't focus on the words. She felt hot, like she was going to pass out.
I've got to end this.
Hand trembling, the girl reached into her back pocket and drew the gun. She pointed it straight ahead.
I'VE GOT TO END THIS.
One shot. Then another.
Just like that.
Holly took a second to look up, hearing Leo's voice again. It sounded like he was talking to someone new. Well, that was a relief. The bigger the group, the more secure everyone was.
It only took a few seconds for Leo to appear at the doorway, two figures standing behind him. Holly squinted a bit, having trouble seeing them in the pale moonlight.
Then she practically leaped for joy.
It was Pepper! Oh god yes, she wanted to squeal and run up and hug her and finally get to talk to someone familiar in this forsaken desert. She felt hopeful, and alive, and-
She froze.
Delilah.
Richard.
All the blood.
The girl looked tense. She ought to, considering what she had done.
Holly reached back, felt the gun in her back pocket. She could do it.
She could end this.
She took a deep, ragged breath and stood up. She thought she heard someone else say something, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. She had tunnel vision, focusing in on what now felt more like a monster than a person.
Speakers came to life. The man from the train started talking. Names, names of her classmates were being said. But Holly couldn't focus on the words. She felt hot, like she was going to pass out.
I've got to end this.
Hand trembling, the girl reached into her back pocket and drew the gun. She pointed it straight ahead.
I'VE GOT TO END THIS.
One shot. Then another.
Just like that.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Flare. 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.
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Pippi
- Posts: 1122
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:32 pm
- Location: I'm Pip!
- Team Affiliation: Stephanie's Buccaneers
Amanda quickly replied to Roy’s query, stating how worried she was about everyone else, barely pausing to breathe. Roy nodded along with her statements-he hadn’t really thought about it until now, seeing as he’d been more concerned about his own survival, but yeah. Everyone else is out there, and we don’t know what they’re doing or how they’re surviving... if they are surviving, that is... God, that’s a morbid thought...
“Yeah, I know.” Roy said after Amanda had stopped talking. “We don’t even know how far this desert stretches, do we? Everyone could be miles away by now. God, I hope Tito and Patrick and everyone is alright. Hopefully not too far away either, so-“ Roy stopped talking as he heard Leo’s voice pipe up from the doorway to the house. From his words, he wasn’t alone either. They’d found more people, thank God. Safety in numbers, and more people that can escape. This is great!
Leo walked in, followed by two girls. Pepper and Delilah, best friends if Roy remembered correctly. He thought it rather lucky that they’d both managed to find each other within a day, but then again, he’d met up with Martin and Amanda hadn’t he? Delilah was keeping more towards the back of the room, which amused Roy slightly-it was a complete role reversal of the usual Pepper/Delilah dynamic. Roy could understand the girl’s fear. She’d just entered a room full of classmates in a “game” requiring them to kill each other, with no idea of their motives. Hell, I’d be scared if that happened to me!
Roy was about to say something, reassure Delilah that everything was okay, but for the second time that night, his words were cut off by another person talking. The voice was familiar, but it wasn’t anyone Roy recognised from Alderbrook. It was a southern accent, and sounded slightly metallic, but the strangest part was that it seemed to be coming from thin air. As soon as The Sheriff said his name, Roy remembered just where he’d heard the voice. He wondered just what the guy was planning to do.
“First one to take up arms was Rebecca Clark, who got Vienna Gogh with an arrow.”
Roy felt he’d been punched in the gut. No... not already. People can’t have started killing already! The voice droned on, detailing how one Simon had killed the other. Then, he got to the third death. Roy’s head spun round to look at Delilah so quickly he thought it might snap off. Delilah had killed. Delilah had stabbed Richard. Delilah had killed and was in the same house that he was. The voice carried on, uncaring, and the sick feeling in Roy’s gut grew and grew. Martha and Tito had both been killed. Delilah had killed again, killed... Oh, God no...
Patrick. The girl in front of him had murdered two people, one of whom had been Patrick Reynolds, Roy’s friend. It was almost too horrendous to be true, but if so, why was Delilah acting so nervous and shifty? When The Sheriff mentioned Warren’s name, Roy felt like he’d been stabbed. Dead... they were all dead. Martha, Tito, Warren and Patrick. All gone, dead, lost forever.
Roy felt tears forming in his eyes. Normally, he’d have wiped them away as quickly as possible, and deny it had ever happened. But this wasn’t ‘normally’, was it? His friends had been murdered, he had been completely unable to stop it, and one of the murderers was standing in front of him. Roy looked down at the floor briefly, then looked back towards Delilah. “It’s... that’s not true, is it Delilah?” he said, voice quiet and angry. “Tell me it’s not true! Tell me you didn’t fucking kill Patrick! Just-“
Again, Roy’s words were stopped short. He noticed Holly, saw her, out of the corner of his eye, reach for her back pocket. And then she pulled out a gun. Everything was turning upside down in front of Roy. He yelled out at her “Oh Jesus, Holly, No!” but it was far too late. Holly pulled the trigger once, and then a second time, and Roy could do nothing but watch.
“Yeah, I know.” Roy said after Amanda had stopped talking. “We don’t even know how far this desert stretches, do we? Everyone could be miles away by now. God, I hope Tito and Patrick and everyone is alright. Hopefully not too far away either, so-“ Roy stopped talking as he heard Leo’s voice pipe up from the doorway to the house. From his words, he wasn’t alone either. They’d found more people, thank God. Safety in numbers, and more people that can escape. This is great!
Leo walked in, followed by two girls. Pepper and Delilah, best friends if Roy remembered correctly. He thought it rather lucky that they’d both managed to find each other within a day, but then again, he’d met up with Martin and Amanda hadn’t he? Delilah was keeping more towards the back of the room, which amused Roy slightly-it was a complete role reversal of the usual Pepper/Delilah dynamic. Roy could understand the girl’s fear. She’d just entered a room full of classmates in a “game” requiring them to kill each other, with no idea of their motives. Hell, I’d be scared if that happened to me!
Roy was about to say something, reassure Delilah that everything was okay, but for the second time that night, his words were cut off by another person talking. The voice was familiar, but it wasn’t anyone Roy recognised from Alderbrook. It was a southern accent, and sounded slightly metallic, but the strangest part was that it seemed to be coming from thin air. As soon as The Sheriff said his name, Roy remembered just where he’d heard the voice. He wondered just what the guy was planning to do.
“First one to take up arms was Rebecca Clark, who got Vienna Gogh with an arrow.”
Roy felt he’d been punched in the gut. No... not already. People can’t have started killing already! The voice droned on, detailing how one Simon had killed the other. Then, he got to the third death. Roy’s head spun round to look at Delilah so quickly he thought it might snap off. Delilah had killed. Delilah had stabbed Richard. Delilah had killed and was in the same house that he was. The voice carried on, uncaring, and the sick feeling in Roy’s gut grew and grew. Martha and Tito had both been killed. Delilah had killed again, killed... Oh, God no...
Patrick. The girl in front of him had murdered two people, one of whom had been Patrick Reynolds, Roy’s friend. It was almost too horrendous to be true, but if so, why was Delilah acting so nervous and shifty? When The Sheriff mentioned Warren’s name, Roy felt like he’d been stabbed. Dead... they were all dead. Martha, Tito, Warren and Patrick. All gone, dead, lost forever.
Roy felt tears forming in his eyes. Normally, he’d have wiped them away as quickly as possible, and deny it had ever happened. But this wasn’t ‘normally’, was it? His friends had been murdered, he had been completely unable to stop it, and one of the murderers was standing in front of him. Roy looked down at the floor briefly, then looked back towards Delilah. “It’s... that’s not true, is it Delilah?” he said, voice quiet and angry. “Tell me it’s not true! Tell me you didn’t fucking kill Patrick! Just-“
Again, Roy’s words were stopped short. He noticed Holly, saw her, out of the corner of his eye, reach for her back pocket. And then she pulled out a gun. Everything was turning upside down in front of Roy. He yelled out at her “Oh Jesus, Holly, No!” but it was far too late. Holly pulled the trigger once, and then a second time, and Roy could do nothing but watch.
Barely able to hide his urge to start skipping Leo walked the two girls into the house. Sure, it was more people to deal with, but less work he was expected to do. Delilah being one of them was a plus. He spent a good part of the train ride working up the courage to try and talk to her. Still, not the most appropriate place to put on the moves, but when they got rescued he'd figure something out.
In the house Leo was about to tell Roy that he could take over when the voice invaded the meeting.
The tard was spewing shit about how they were already killing each other, and Leo rolled his eyes through the lies. Yeah, like so many of use would lose our shit so quickly. He also noted that these "just happened" to play when Delilah joined the group. Still, from Amanda's and Roy's reaction it seemed to be working.
Leo held up a hand and said,
"Guys, this is the biggest pile of bull I've heard. I know Bruce, and he's more likely to kill himself way before someone else." Sure the asshole said he'd killed himself, but Leo actually believed that the crazy SOB actually found a way to escape.
Before he could further debunk the announcements, Roy screamed, and Leo turned his face to Holly pointing the gun at Delilah, Pepper, and him. Everything he feared was playing out when he had so easily dismissed it at the Doctor's Office.
Unable to function under his terror Leo fell away from the line of fire. Unable to speak, scream, or control the shaking as the Gates of Hell began to open in front of him.
In the house Leo was about to tell Roy that he could take over when the voice invaded the meeting.
The tard was spewing shit about how they were already killing each other, and Leo rolled his eyes through the lies. Yeah, like so many of use would lose our shit so quickly. He also noted that these "just happened" to play when Delilah joined the group. Still, from Amanda's and Roy's reaction it seemed to be working.
Leo held up a hand and said,
"Guys, this is the biggest pile of bull I've heard. I know Bruce, and he's more likely to kill himself way before someone else." Sure the asshole said he'd killed himself, but Leo actually believed that the crazy SOB actually found a way to escape.
Before he could further debunk the announcements, Roy screamed, and Leo turned his face to Holly pointing the gun at Delilah, Pepper, and him. Everything he feared was playing out when he had so easily dismissed it at the Doctor's Office.
Unable to function under his terror Leo fell away from the line of fire. Unable to speak, scream, or control the shaking as the Gates of Hell began to open in front of him.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Acidic. 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.
“I-it’ll be alright, Del,” Pepper said softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she tried to coax her friend into following Leo. Shakily, she put a reassuring hand on Delilah’s shoulder and forced a smile, “You know I’m the w-worst liar, so trust me, ok?”
With a small, albeit hesitant, nod and notion of agreement from Delilah, Pepper followed Leo up towards the house; which, thankfully, seemed much sturdier than the other houses dotting the street. A cold sweat washed across her body as the trio crossed the rickety porch; unconsciously trying to sneak a peek through the cracked window in hopes of seeing just what she was walking into, but only managing to make out several indistinct figures huddled in the middle of what she assumed was the living room. Pausing for only moment to take a deep breath and several hairs from her arm, Pepper shadowed Leo into the house. Inside were the dirtied faces of her classmates staring back at her with wide eyes, watching her and Delilah’s every move with scrutiny; as if to gauge whether or not they were a threat. She knew all of them, of course, or of them, as it were—Pepper never the one to speak unless spoken to. Her eyes darted around the room, putting names to the faces. Amanda, Roy, Martin, but it wasn’t until she saw the particularly dingy girl seated near the corner, dusted by the desert sands and just as sunburnt as Pepper herself, did a wave of relief wash over her.
Holly Romero, artist and writer extraordinaire, as well as one of Pepper’s closest friends. She was a welcomed surprise, for sure, her mere presence in the group lifting a good deal of the uncomfortable energy they’d brought in with them off her shoulders. Still, she couldn’t quite work up the courage to walk over to her friend, not with all eyes on her; opting to send her friend a small smile and covert wave instead before turning back to Delilah. It was obvious how on edge she was, rigid as the closed door she’d positioned herself against as soon as they entered, as if waiting to make a quick getaway, with lips pursed so hard they appeared white. It was to be expected, though. Delilah had murdered. Even the word sent a chill up her spine. Murderer. You hear it all the time on the news, or TV, or in the papers, thinking of Delilah in the role was something else. She was ashamed, to be honest. Not of Delilah, but of herself. Was it fair to so haphazardly place a label like that on her friend without truly knowing what was happening behind those eyes? It made her sick to think about.
Delilah had caught her gaze, steel-blue meeting with warm brown in discomforting harmony. Quickly, Pepper broke the eye contact, training her eyes on the weathered floorboards instead. The silence in the room was becoming all too apparent; threatening to suffocate her where she stood. She prayed someone would say something, anything to break the stillness engulfing the room.
As if God himself, or more aptly the Devil, had heard her prayers, a thick southern drawl filled the room; almost immediately recognizable as the voice from the train. For a split second, Pepper hoped he was going to say that everything had been some elaborate prank, that no one had really died and they were free to go home and see their families. Luck that like was unheard of, unfortunately. Pepper’s heart raced as the man’s voice pierced the air, recounting all too enthusiastically the deaths that had happened during the day. She could feel her face sleeping into a look of utter shock and, eventually, grief. It felt as though a hand tightened around her heart when Ramona and Tito had been announced among the dead, sending her spiraling back to the lamppost only hours previously when they’d been alive and healthy. It was just her and Benny now, and quickly she wondered if he was at the rendezvous spot waiting for her. She didn’t have much time to think about it, however, before Delilah’s name was announced as a killer not once, but twice. Her entire body seemed frozen to the floor, unable to form words in her suddenly too-dry mouth. She could feel Delilah’s cold hands snake around her wrist, but turned only slightly to acknowledge her friend’s stern request that they go.
She could only muster a small nod before chaos engulfed the small room.
Fireworks.
It was her immediate thought, oddly enough. Joyous, celebratory fireworks.
Her scream had been lost in the uproar, drowned out by the cacophony of shrieks from her classmates and the ringing in her ears. Time seemed to go at a snail’s pace as she stared at Delilah’s panicked face, unable to bring her friend’s features into focus past the tears staining her eyes.
She could only manage a small whine before hitting the floor hard.
Her body seemed to be acting of its own violation, shaking hands clutching her side as warmth trickled between her fingers. She tried to pull herself up, tried to shake it off like Maw-Maw had told her so many times to do. Hazily, she felt Delilah near her, panicked, clumsy movements as she tried to help Pepper up. A pained, confused expression marred Pepper’s features as darkness pricked the corners of her vision. Benny was going to be waiting awhile, wasn’t he?
She stopped fighting it, she knew it wouldn’t do any good. Her head found the warmth of Delilah’s lap, her hands clutching both her wound and Delilah’s pant leg tightly.
She was going to meet her parents for the first time, at least.
She hoped they’d like her.
With a small, albeit hesitant, nod and notion of agreement from Delilah, Pepper followed Leo up towards the house; which, thankfully, seemed much sturdier than the other houses dotting the street. A cold sweat washed across her body as the trio crossed the rickety porch; unconsciously trying to sneak a peek through the cracked window in hopes of seeing just what she was walking into, but only managing to make out several indistinct figures huddled in the middle of what she assumed was the living room. Pausing for only moment to take a deep breath and several hairs from her arm, Pepper shadowed Leo into the house. Inside were the dirtied faces of her classmates staring back at her with wide eyes, watching her and Delilah’s every move with scrutiny; as if to gauge whether or not they were a threat. She knew all of them, of course, or of them, as it were—Pepper never the one to speak unless spoken to. Her eyes darted around the room, putting names to the faces. Amanda, Roy, Martin, but it wasn’t until she saw the particularly dingy girl seated near the corner, dusted by the desert sands and just as sunburnt as Pepper herself, did a wave of relief wash over her.
Holly Romero, artist and writer extraordinaire, as well as one of Pepper’s closest friends. She was a welcomed surprise, for sure, her mere presence in the group lifting a good deal of the uncomfortable energy they’d brought in with them off her shoulders. Still, she couldn’t quite work up the courage to walk over to her friend, not with all eyes on her; opting to send her friend a small smile and covert wave instead before turning back to Delilah. It was obvious how on edge she was, rigid as the closed door she’d positioned herself against as soon as they entered, as if waiting to make a quick getaway, with lips pursed so hard they appeared white. It was to be expected, though. Delilah had murdered. Even the word sent a chill up her spine. Murderer. You hear it all the time on the news, or TV, or in the papers, thinking of Delilah in the role was something else. She was ashamed, to be honest. Not of Delilah, but of herself. Was it fair to so haphazardly place a label like that on her friend without truly knowing what was happening behind those eyes? It made her sick to think about.
Delilah had caught her gaze, steel-blue meeting with warm brown in discomforting harmony. Quickly, Pepper broke the eye contact, training her eyes on the weathered floorboards instead. The silence in the room was becoming all too apparent; threatening to suffocate her where she stood. She prayed someone would say something, anything to break the stillness engulfing the room.
As if God himself, or more aptly the Devil, had heard her prayers, a thick southern drawl filled the room; almost immediately recognizable as the voice from the train. For a split second, Pepper hoped he was going to say that everything had been some elaborate prank, that no one had really died and they were free to go home and see their families. Luck that like was unheard of, unfortunately. Pepper’s heart raced as the man’s voice pierced the air, recounting all too enthusiastically the deaths that had happened during the day. She could feel her face sleeping into a look of utter shock and, eventually, grief. It felt as though a hand tightened around her heart when Ramona and Tito had been announced among the dead, sending her spiraling back to the lamppost only hours previously when they’d been alive and healthy. It was just her and Benny now, and quickly she wondered if he was at the rendezvous spot waiting for her. She didn’t have much time to think about it, however, before Delilah’s name was announced as a killer not once, but twice. Her entire body seemed frozen to the floor, unable to form words in her suddenly too-dry mouth. She could feel Delilah’s cold hands snake around her wrist, but turned only slightly to acknowledge her friend’s stern request that they go.
She could only muster a small nod before chaos engulfed the small room.
Fireworks.
It was her immediate thought, oddly enough. Joyous, celebratory fireworks.
Her scream had been lost in the uproar, drowned out by the cacophony of shrieks from her classmates and the ringing in her ears. Time seemed to go at a snail’s pace as she stared at Delilah’s panicked face, unable to bring her friend’s features into focus past the tears staining her eyes.
She could only manage a small whine before hitting the floor hard.
Her body seemed to be acting of its own violation, shaking hands clutching her side as warmth trickled between her fingers. She tried to pull herself up, tried to shake it off like Maw-Maw had told her so many times to do. Hazily, she felt Delilah near her, panicked, clumsy movements as she tried to help Pepper up. A pained, confused expression marred Pepper’s features as darkness pricked the corners of her vision. Benny was going to be waiting awhile, wasn’t he?
She stopped fighting it, she knew it wouldn’t do any good. Her head found the warmth of Delilah’s lap, her hands clutching both her wound and Delilah’s pant leg tightly.
She was going to meet her parents for the first time, at least.
She hoped they’d like her.
F23, PEPPER CLARKE: GAME OVER
24 STUDENTS REMAIN
24 STUDENTS REMAIN
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Cash Money*
- Posts: 58
- Joined: Tue Aug 21, 2018 4:14 am
Martin’s conciliatory words got lost in the shuffle. There were Amanda’s incredulous words. Roy’s accusatory words. Leo’s disbelieving words. Delilah’s panicked words. But Holly chose to act instead of speaking, and her gunshot spoke loudest of all.
Martin yelled something as soon as he saw Holly raising her gun, but he couldn’t get a word out before the shot made the room seem to explode. For a split second, the entire room was as bright as day, everyone panicking except for Holly, wearing a mask of determination. Martin couldn’t see it, but he knew exactly what she was thinking. She thought what the announcements said were true, and she was acting on it exactly how the Sheriff wanted her to.
Martin had to stop her.
He lunged forward, arm reaching for the gun, trying to wrest control away from her. His hand connected with the barrel of the pistol, and he tried to pull it out of her hand and throw it to the ground. Her grip was, for a split second, stronger than he counted on it being, and instead of falling to the floor, the gun swiveled toward Martin’s heart.
Then a second gunshot went off.
Pain seared through his chest. He tried to scream, but he was already starting to feel weak. Just like that, he knew it was over. He had tried to prevent people from playing the game, but he’d never counted on people playing so early, or so callously. And now he was paying the price for doing the right thing.
Martin fell face first on the hardwood floor of the entryway at Holly’s feet. He tried to gasp for air, but the blood that needed to go to his brain was instead pumping out of his chest in great, heaving spurts, staining his blue Azzurri jersey red. It was all he could do to use his once-powerful legs to roll over onto his back, staring back into the living room where he had just been asleep not a minute ago as he wheezed in a vain attempt for precious oxygen. Whatever had been happening continued happening above him, but to his mind, all the footsteps and noise melted away, because there was something more important happening in the living room.
The chair in the corner started growing. Armrests sprouted from its sides, and burgundy leather poured onto the skeletal wooden frame before it became outlined with a hazy golden trim made of rivets. A chair in the other corner quickly wrapped itself in green corduroy, worn but functional. The room became as white as the light at the end of a tunnel as the sun rose over a modest neighborhood, and the walls smoothed themselves over with white paint. The floorboards gained a coat of lacquer, and the ceiling grew a fan. The windows let in the sight of a pale, blue, cloudless sky.
Marco was home.
From behind the wall separating the entryway and the living room, Alessandra and Teresa Ricco rushed into the entryway. They had both completed sixth grade just a few days ago, at the same time Marco had left for the trip. News about the missing train had been everywhere, and Marco’s little sisters had been worried sick about their big brother.
“Marco! You’re home! Are you alright?”
Marco knew he wasn’t alright. The entry rug was surely soaked with blood by now, that should have been obvious. But even through his blurred vision, he could see that his sisters’ faces showed only concern.
“No, but… at least I made it home.”
Teresa knelt on the floor and gave him a hug. Marco could feel her hot cheek on his, and across the impossible distance separating them, with every last bit of strength he could muster, he hugged her back. In his dying moments, that embrace was all he really needed.
Martin yelled something as soon as he saw Holly raising her gun, but he couldn’t get a word out before the shot made the room seem to explode. For a split second, the entire room was as bright as day, everyone panicking except for Holly, wearing a mask of determination. Martin couldn’t see it, but he knew exactly what she was thinking. She thought what the announcements said were true, and she was acting on it exactly how the Sheriff wanted her to.
Martin had to stop her.
He lunged forward, arm reaching for the gun, trying to wrest control away from her. His hand connected with the barrel of the pistol, and he tried to pull it out of her hand and throw it to the ground. Her grip was, for a split second, stronger than he counted on it being, and instead of falling to the floor, the gun swiveled toward Martin’s heart.
Then a second gunshot went off.
Pain seared through his chest. He tried to scream, but he was already starting to feel weak. Just like that, he knew it was over. He had tried to prevent people from playing the game, but he’d never counted on people playing so early, or so callously. And now he was paying the price for doing the right thing.
Martin fell face first on the hardwood floor of the entryway at Holly’s feet. He tried to gasp for air, but the blood that needed to go to his brain was instead pumping out of his chest in great, heaving spurts, staining his blue Azzurri jersey red. It was all he could do to use his once-powerful legs to roll over onto his back, staring back into the living room where he had just been asleep not a minute ago as he wheezed in a vain attempt for precious oxygen. Whatever had been happening continued happening above him, but to his mind, all the footsteps and noise melted away, because there was something more important happening in the living room.
The chair in the corner started growing. Armrests sprouted from its sides, and burgundy leather poured onto the skeletal wooden frame before it became outlined with a hazy golden trim made of rivets. A chair in the other corner quickly wrapped itself in green corduroy, worn but functional. The room became as white as the light at the end of a tunnel as the sun rose over a modest neighborhood, and the walls smoothed themselves over with white paint. The floorboards gained a coat of lacquer, and the ceiling grew a fan. The windows let in the sight of a pale, blue, cloudless sky.
Marco was home.
From behind the wall separating the entryway and the living room, Alessandra and Teresa Ricco rushed into the entryway. They had both completed sixth grade just a few days ago, at the same time Marco had left for the trip. News about the missing train had been everywhere, and Marco’s little sisters had been worried sick about their big brother.
“Marco! You’re home! Are you alright?”
Marco knew he wasn’t alright. The entry rug was surely soaked with blood by now, that should have been obvious. But even through his blurred vision, he could see that his sisters’ faces showed only concern.
“No, but… at least I made it home.”
Teresa knelt on the floor and gave him a hug. Marco could feel her hot cheek on his, and across the impossible distance separating them, with every last bit of strength he could muster, he hugged her back. In his dying moments, that embrace was all he really needed.
M09, MARCO RICCO: GAME OVER
23 STUDENTS REMAIN
23 STUDENTS REMAIN
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Cash Money. 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.
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Courtography
- Posts: 518
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 11:03 pm
(All GMing approved blah blah blah)
The next thing Amanda knew, Delilah's sword was sweeping across her stomach. She tumbled to the floor, why oh god why, no this wasn't right...
She lay there. She could hear the gunfire, it was bad, how, how could she have let this happen, they couldn't do this, no...She tried to move, the pain was too much. More gunshots, screams and then it seemed quiet.
She heard broken glass and a source of heat.
No...
She could smell the smoke, filling the air. The heat was close to her foot. She flopped forward, feeling the wood grain of the floor in her wound. It didn't matter, she felt the heat grab hold of her leg. She started to cry, she didn't want to die like this.
She felt the flames rush up the rest of her pants, she tried to roll over, it didn't work. So weak...
Then the blood loss was too much and she shut her eyes.
She had failed.
F16: CLEARWATER, AMANDA: GAME OVER
The next thing Amanda knew, Delilah's sword was sweeping across her stomach. She tumbled to the floor, why oh god why, no this wasn't right...
She lay there. She could hear the gunfire, it was bad, how, how could she have let this happen, they couldn't do this, no...She tried to move, the pain was too much. More gunshots, screams and then it seemed quiet.
She heard broken glass and a source of heat.
No...
She could smell the smoke, filling the air. The heat was close to her foot. She flopped forward, feeling the wood grain of the floor in her wound. It didn't matter, she felt the heat grab hold of her leg. She started to cry, she didn't want to die like this.
She felt the flames rush up the rest of her pants, she tried to roll over, it didn't work. So weak...
Then the blood loss was too much and she shut her eyes.
She had failed.
F16: CLEARWATER, AMANDA: GAME OVER
"Delilah, we know you didn't do anything."
They didn't believe the sheriff?
"What? How could you do that!"
They did.
"Guys, this is the biggest pile of bull I've heard."
They didn't?
“It’s... that’s not true, is it Delilah? Tell me it’s not true! Tell me you didn’t fucking kill Patrick! Just-“
Confusion. Anger. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up! And the next thing she knew, they did; at the sound of thunder. Thunder coming from inside that made Delilah jump and cover her ears.
She turned, barely able to hear Pepper whimper and then saw her fall to the dusty, old, wooden floorboards. A dark red, unlike that of Pepper's hair, stained the ground and all over the bigger girl's clothing. She didn't know what was going on and tried helping Pepper up, but Pepper was much heavier than she was. Delilah glanced forward for a second and saw Martin attempting to restrain Holly. Holly had the gun and it occurred to Delilah, then and there that Pepper had been shot, shot by Holly Romero.
Delilah didn't do anything to stop her. All she did was react to her best friend, in pain, bleeding out in front of her. She dropped to her knees out of shock and panicked, trying to figure out what she could do to help. Pepper was her best friend and she couldn't just let her die, but she had no idea what to do. She didn't know what to do! But-but, she could try!
She opened Patrick's bag immediately and desperately searched for the first aid kit. She pulled out the cavalry saber, getting it out of the way first. The first aid kit was located right next to the glass bottles, which she assumed were Patrick's assigned weapons. She grabbed the first aid kit in a panic as she continued to hear the struggle and commotion going on in the background, all of which were blocked out as Delilah continued to keep her focus on Pepper's well being.
Pepper's head rested over her lap as soon as Delilah went next to her and she fought the urge to cry, unsuccessfully at seeing her friend's condition. She hurriedly opened the first aid kit, only for the contents to spill out in a pile over the ground. She managed to grab what she could, including any thing that looked like medicine, bandages and what looked like a lighter. She watched Pepper's chest heave and hands shake and...
The other girl. The one who yelled at her. Amanda. Amanda was too close. Too close for comfort.
"No, stay back! Stay away from us!"
She couldn't trust these people, not the ones who were so quick to think badly about her at least. She had been completely justified this whole time. Justified in doing exactly what she had been doing since Richard. These people were dangerous and would kill without hesitation if they had too. Holly Romero had proven it.
A second gun shot, and a second body dropped to the floor. Now Amanda was bolting toward the doorway, toward Pepper and herself.
Delilah had no choice. She unsheathed her sword and swiped at Amanda's abdomen.
The girl held her bleeding stomach and stumbled backward before hitting the ground as well. Delilah didn't know if she was dead, but she didn't care. Her focus was back on Pepper, but something was wrong. Her chest wasn't moving.
"Pepe? Pepe?!" She shook the bigger girl.
Nothing.
It was the blood loss, it had to be. She was... she was just unconscious! It was like sleeping right? It-it had to be. She had to be alive...
"Pepe? lève-toi, Pepe!"
Delilah grabbed Pepper's arms and began to pull her out of the house. She was heavy. Too heavy for a light weight girl like Delilah to move. But she tried her hardest. She began to slide little by little out of the doorway and onto the porch, blood smearing over the wood. Her arms started to hurt from all the muscle she was putting into it. She gripped Pepper's arms again and tugged as hard as she could in an attempt to bring Pepper off the porch and onto the streets. Instead, Delilah lost her balance and tumbled backward off the porch steps.
Her back was hurt, but it was only a minor injury, that didn't need to be paid attention to, considering Pepper's situation and the people inside.
The people inside.
They were dangerous. They. Killed. Pepper. And she nearly forgot about them. They'd kill her yet. Holly Romero would kill her and...
Delilah really didn't want to die.
The lighter. Patrick's molotovs. Trap them. She ran forward, closed the door. Then Delilah sent one through the window.
The glow of the hungry flames lit up the old house like firewood, faster than Delilah would have expected. Smoke came pouring out from the shattered window, as Delilah began to cough wildly in response. She ran as quickly as she could, back to Pepper. She had to move Pepper, before it was too late.
But she was too late.
To her horror, the porch roof had already caught on fire and she watched it collapse onto her best friend's body.
Delilah let out a scream. A scream so loud, louder than anything that had ever come from her mouth before, filled with a mix of emotion that she couldn't even begin to describe.
And then she ran. She ran far away from the place. Far away from this devilish sight.
[[Delilah Rivers Continued To: Hey There Delilah.]]
They didn't believe the sheriff?
"What? How could you do that!"
They did.
"Guys, this is the biggest pile of bull I've heard."
They didn't?
“It’s... that’s not true, is it Delilah? Tell me it’s not true! Tell me you didn’t fucking kill Patrick! Just-“
Confusion. Anger. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up! And the next thing she knew, they did; at the sound of thunder. Thunder coming from inside that made Delilah jump and cover her ears.
She turned, barely able to hear Pepper whimper and then saw her fall to the dusty, old, wooden floorboards. A dark red, unlike that of Pepper's hair, stained the ground and all over the bigger girl's clothing. She didn't know what was going on and tried helping Pepper up, but Pepper was much heavier than she was. Delilah glanced forward for a second and saw Martin attempting to restrain Holly. Holly had the gun and it occurred to Delilah, then and there that Pepper had been shot, shot by Holly Romero.
Delilah didn't do anything to stop her. All she did was react to her best friend, in pain, bleeding out in front of her. She dropped to her knees out of shock and panicked, trying to figure out what she could do to help. Pepper was her best friend and she couldn't just let her die, but she had no idea what to do. She didn't know what to do! But-but, she could try!
She opened Patrick's bag immediately and desperately searched for the first aid kit. She pulled out the cavalry saber, getting it out of the way first. The first aid kit was located right next to the glass bottles, which she assumed were Patrick's assigned weapons. She grabbed the first aid kit in a panic as she continued to hear the struggle and commotion going on in the background, all of which were blocked out as Delilah continued to keep her focus on Pepper's well being.
Pepper's head rested over her lap as soon as Delilah went next to her and she fought the urge to cry, unsuccessfully at seeing her friend's condition. She hurriedly opened the first aid kit, only for the contents to spill out in a pile over the ground. She managed to grab what she could, including any thing that looked like medicine, bandages and what looked like a lighter. She watched Pepper's chest heave and hands shake and...
The other girl. The one who yelled at her. Amanda. Amanda was too close. Too close for comfort.
"No, stay back! Stay away from us!"
She couldn't trust these people, not the ones who were so quick to think badly about her at least. She had been completely justified this whole time. Justified in doing exactly what she had been doing since Richard. These people were dangerous and would kill without hesitation if they had too. Holly Romero had proven it.
A second gun shot, and a second body dropped to the floor. Now Amanda was bolting toward the doorway, toward Pepper and herself.
Delilah had no choice. She unsheathed her sword and swiped at Amanda's abdomen.
The girl held her bleeding stomach and stumbled backward before hitting the ground as well. Delilah didn't know if she was dead, but she didn't care. Her focus was back on Pepper, but something was wrong. Her chest wasn't moving.
"Pepe? Pepe?!" She shook the bigger girl.
Nothing.
It was the blood loss, it had to be. She was... she was just unconscious! It was like sleeping right? It-it had to be. She had to be alive...
"Pepe? lève-toi, Pepe!"
Delilah grabbed Pepper's arms and began to pull her out of the house. She was heavy. Too heavy for a light weight girl like Delilah to move. But she tried her hardest. She began to slide little by little out of the doorway and onto the porch, blood smearing over the wood. Her arms started to hurt from all the muscle she was putting into it. She gripped Pepper's arms again and tugged as hard as she could in an attempt to bring Pepper off the porch and onto the streets. Instead, Delilah lost her balance and tumbled backward off the porch steps.
Her back was hurt, but it was only a minor injury, that didn't need to be paid attention to, considering Pepper's situation and the people inside.
The people inside.
They were dangerous. They. Killed. Pepper. And she nearly forgot about them. They'd kill her yet. Holly Romero would kill her and...
Delilah really didn't want to die.
The lighter. Patrick's molotovs. Trap them. She ran forward, closed the door. Then Delilah sent one through the window.
The glow of the hungry flames lit up the old house like firewood, faster than Delilah would have expected. Smoke came pouring out from the shattered window, as Delilah began to cough wildly in response. She ran as quickly as she could, back to Pepper. She had to move Pepper, before it was too late.
But she was too late.
To her horror, the porch roof had already caught on fire and she watched it collapse onto her best friend's body.
Delilah let out a scream. A scream so loud, louder than anything that had ever come from her mouth before, filled with a mix of emotion that she couldn't even begin to describe.
And then she ran. She ran far away from the place. Far away from this devilish sight.
[[Delilah Rivers Continued To: Hey There Delilah.]]
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Pippi
- Posts: 1122
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:32 pm
- Location: I'm Pip!
- Team Affiliation: Stephanie's Buccaneers
((All GMing approved))
As the bullets left Holly’s gun and flew towards their mortal targets, Roy briefly wondered whether the whole world would go into slow motion. It was the sort of thing that happened on TV and in movies. He guessed it made sense too; the fact that everything was moving slow enough for you to stop it happening, but being unable to do anything about it.
In fact, in reality, it was the complete opposite. Everything seemed to happen instantaneously. Roy remained rooted to the floor as Pepper fell to the ground, as Martin struggled to wrestle the gun from Holly. He could only watch as the gun went off for a second time, the bullet flying into Martin’s chest, and could only watch as the glint of Delilah’s sword cut through Amanda.
Everything had happened in a matter of seconds, and Roy had been completely unable to do anything. Martin and Amanda, two people he’d sworn to protect, and Pepper, a girl he’d never got a chance to; all of them were gone. And Roy had done nothing. He noticed now that he had taken a couple of steps backwards in the confusion and terror. But that was it. That was his grand contribution to the group’s survival.
There was a shattering sound, and soon afterwards, a crackling sound. Roy looked around hurriedly for the source of the noise. Fire. Fire and flames everywhere. Somehow, someone had managed to set the building on fire, the building he was currently in. The old wood, the curtains and the mattresses they had all been planning to sleep on oh so long ago quickly attracted the fire, and burst into flames themselves. The smoke was spreading fast, and Roy knew that soon, he wouldn’t be able to see the exit. He needed to get out of here, now.
Roy turned in the direction of the exit, and felt his heart stop. Somehow, in the confusion, he’d managed to forget about the two other people left in the house, but there they were right in front of him. Leo Raclaw, who’d been a thorn in his side since day one. And Holly Romero, who was pointing her gun at him. Roy didn’t know what to do now. His mind had become hopelessly tangled, thoughts of escape, and thoughts of protection interlocking with each other. But there was one solitary thought that had escaped the haze surrounding his mind, one solitary thing he knew above everything else.
No-one else is gonna get hurt… no-one else is gonna die here…
And so Roy ran towards Leo, as fast as he could, turning to face Holly as he did so. If he had been thinking straight, he could have tried to run into Holly, tried to knock the gun out of her hand like Martin had tried to. But the only thing Roy could think was to make sure Leo survived, by any means possible, and as the bullet left the barrel of Holly’s gun with a deafening crack, he couldn’t even think that.
The bullet tore through the bandages securing Roy’s useless arm, and he felt a small, dull sensation in the centre of his chest. He might have knocked into Leo, he might not have. Either way, Roy felt himself falling backwards, before hitting the wooden floorboards hard, briefly unable to understand why.
Then the pain hit him, and Roy remembered what had just happened. He… he had been shot. He’d actually just been shot. It was surreal, really. The pain was incredible, unlike anything Roy had ever felt or imagined. It was as if someone had taken his broken arm, and applied the pain from it to the very centre of his body. Roy tried to force his head up to take a look at his chest, but his neck was unwilling to comply without applying more pain throughout his chest. Eventually, he managed to get a good-enough glimpse of his chest, his broken arm now lying uselessly at his side. There was a dark blotch standing out from his tan shirt, spreading quickly, obscuring the part of the target on his chest where he’d been hit.
Roy’s head lolled back, and his vision grew hazy. He couldn’t see Leo, didn’t know whether he’d run off by now or not. The pain spreading through his body was accompanied from a feeling of numbness. He was dying. He was actually going to die, right here, right now. Roy had never thought about death before. He didn’t have any clue what happened to you after you died, and to be honest, hadn’t really cared until now. But now, he felt terribly scared and alone. What was going to happen to him? What would happen to his family?
The heat was rising now, and Roy could barely think. Only one thought was in his head, the same thought as before. No-one else is gonna get hurt, no-one else is gonna die here. He’d done it. He’d saved someone. No matter what happened to him, he’d saved someone from the same cruel fate.
Roy tried to smile at his thoughts, but every movement was pure agony. So Roy kept his one last thought circling around and around his head, over and over again, until his brain shut down, and he couldn’t think anymore.
M01-ROY BENSON: GAME OVER
20 STUDENTS REMAIN
As the bullets left Holly’s gun and flew towards their mortal targets, Roy briefly wondered whether the whole world would go into slow motion. It was the sort of thing that happened on TV and in movies. He guessed it made sense too; the fact that everything was moving slow enough for you to stop it happening, but being unable to do anything about it.
In fact, in reality, it was the complete opposite. Everything seemed to happen instantaneously. Roy remained rooted to the floor as Pepper fell to the ground, as Martin struggled to wrestle the gun from Holly. He could only watch as the gun went off for a second time, the bullet flying into Martin’s chest, and could only watch as the glint of Delilah’s sword cut through Amanda.
Everything had happened in a matter of seconds, and Roy had been completely unable to do anything. Martin and Amanda, two people he’d sworn to protect, and Pepper, a girl he’d never got a chance to; all of them were gone. And Roy had done nothing. He noticed now that he had taken a couple of steps backwards in the confusion and terror. But that was it. That was his grand contribution to the group’s survival.
There was a shattering sound, and soon afterwards, a crackling sound. Roy looked around hurriedly for the source of the noise. Fire. Fire and flames everywhere. Somehow, someone had managed to set the building on fire, the building he was currently in. The old wood, the curtains and the mattresses they had all been planning to sleep on oh so long ago quickly attracted the fire, and burst into flames themselves. The smoke was spreading fast, and Roy knew that soon, he wouldn’t be able to see the exit. He needed to get out of here, now.
Roy turned in the direction of the exit, and felt his heart stop. Somehow, in the confusion, he’d managed to forget about the two other people left in the house, but there they were right in front of him. Leo Raclaw, who’d been a thorn in his side since day one. And Holly Romero, who was pointing her gun at him. Roy didn’t know what to do now. His mind had become hopelessly tangled, thoughts of escape, and thoughts of protection interlocking with each other. But there was one solitary thought that had escaped the haze surrounding his mind, one solitary thing he knew above everything else.
No-one else is gonna get hurt… no-one else is gonna die here…
And so Roy ran towards Leo, as fast as he could, turning to face Holly as he did so. If he had been thinking straight, he could have tried to run into Holly, tried to knock the gun out of her hand like Martin had tried to. But the only thing Roy could think was to make sure Leo survived, by any means possible, and as the bullet left the barrel of Holly’s gun with a deafening crack, he couldn’t even think that.
The bullet tore through the bandages securing Roy’s useless arm, and he felt a small, dull sensation in the centre of his chest. He might have knocked into Leo, he might not have. Either way, Roy felt himself falling backwards, before hitting the wooden floorboards hard, briefly unable to understand why.
Then the pain hit him, and Roy remembered what had just happened. He… he had been shot. He’d actually just been shot. It was surreal, really. The pain was incredible, unlike anything Roy had ever felt or imagined. It was as if someone had taken his broken arm, and applied the pain from it to the very centre of his body. Roy tried to force his head up to take a look at his chest, but his neck was unwilling to comply without applying more pain throughout his chest. Eventually, he managed to get a good-enough glimpse of his chest, his broken arm now lying uselessly at his side. There was a dark blotch standing out from his tan shirt, spreading quickly, obscuring the part of the target on his chest where he’d been hit.
Roy’s head lolled back, and his vision grew hazy. He couldn’t see Leo, didn’t know whether he’d run off by now or not. The pain spreading through his body was accompanied from a feeling of numbness. He was dying. He was actually going to die, right here, right now. Roy had never thought about death before. He didn’t have any clue what happened to you after you died, and to be honest, hadn’t really cared until now. But now, he felt terribly scared and alone. What was going to happen to him? What would happen to his family?
The heat was rising now, and Roy could barely think. Only one thought was in his head, the same thought as before. No-one else is gonna get hurt, no-one else is gonna die here. He’d done it. He’d saved someone. No matter what happened to him, he’d saved someone from the same cruel fate.
Roy tried to smile at his thoughts, but every movement was pure agony. So Roy kept his one last thought circling around and around his head, over and over again, until his brain shut down, and he couldn’t think anymore.
M01-ROY BENSON: GAME OVER
20 STUDENTS REMAIN
((Inactivity save, activate))
Their plan had ended in gun shots, death and fire. Leo could barely keep up with it all, as gaped around the room he saw that they were all dead: Pepper, Martin, and Amanda. Flames waved the departed souls good-bye as those who were left were trapped.
It's my fault, isn't it? He brought Holly into the group, and then Pepper and Delilah. If he just did nothing everything would have been fine. Looking at Holly Leo snarled. It wasn't his fault. She was the one who shot first, and it resulted in this conflagration of house and humans.
Seeing Amanda's tire iron, Leo picked it up when he saw Holly aiming at him. All he hoped was that she killed him quickly, as not to fry slowly and painfully until the fire reached his lungs and heart. He winced when the gun discharged, and was pushed out of his rooted position.
Leo wondered if this was what it was like to get shot, but when he opened his eyes he saw what had happened. Roy had sacrificed, and ,like etiquette in a blender, Leo's mouth shouted insults and expletives as he ran at Holly with the tire iron swinging.
Their plan had ended in gun shots, death and fire. Leo could barely keep up with it all, as gaped around the room he saw that they were all dead: Pepper, Martin, and Amanda. Flames waved the departed souls good-bye as those who were left were trapped.
It's my fault, isn't it? He brought Holly into the group, and then Pepper and Delilah. If he just did nothing everything would have been fine. Looking at Holly Leo snarled. It wasn't his fault. She was the one who shot first, and it resulted in this conflagration of house and humans.
Seeing Amanda's tire iron, Leo picked it up when he saw Holly aiming at him. All he hoped was that she killed him quickly, as not to fry slowly and painfully until the fire reached his lungs and heart. He winced when the gun discharged, and was pushed out of his rooted position.
Leo wondered if this was what it was like to get shot, but when he opened his eyes he saw what had happened. Roy had sacrificed, and ,like etiquette in a blender, Leo's mouth shouted insults and expletives as he ran at Holly with the tire iron swinging.
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Many people had never fired a gun before. Holly was one of those people. The resistance that the pistol caused made her jump a little, even yell out a bit. But that didn't matter. She had already seen the bullet shoot towards its target. And hit Pepper instead.
The bigger girl instantly fell to the floor, blood flowing out her chest. If the second shot hadn't fired out so quickly, Holly would've had more time to be mortified.
S-she's dead, and I shot her, and why couldn't it have hit Delilah? She's the one who should die.
Those thoughts, however, were mixed in with the second bullet, which happened to collide with Martin, who had began to attempt to wrestle the gun out of her hands. She was so lost in her own mind and her objective that she hadn't even noticed that until after the boy was on the ground, dead right in front of her.
Two shots fired. Two people dead. Neither of them Delilah.
No, no, it's not fair...
The third shot fired. Holly didn't even remember thinking about trying again, but she did. The bullet whizzed through the air, tearing right through the body of - Roy. Not Delilah.
God, why did I have to mess this up?! Why do I ALWAYS mess these things up?
That's when the tire iron hit. Somehow, in her daze, she hadn't even seen the remaining boy run at her. She felt her read begin to ring, the gun slipping from her hands and into the pool of Martin's blood. Dizzier than ever, Holly collapsed onto the ground, finding it hard to breathe.
Gotta... get... uprewfrewgtth
Holly was too weak to form cohesive thoughts anymore, as she lay there among her victims. She probably would have been mortified if she had been able to.
There was a crash. She began to feel hot. It smelled like smoke. Consciousness began to fade.
Messed... up...
From a mix of the intense heat and the blood loss from the blow, Holly passed out, eventually burning in the fire with the rest of the house. She spent her last moments alone, in silence. Much like most of her life.
F10 - HOLLY ROMERO - GAME OVER
The bigger girl instantly fell to the floor, blood flowing out her chest. If the second shot hadn't fired out so quickly, Holly would've had more time to be mortified.
S-she's dead, and I shot her, and why couldn't it have hit Delilah? She's the one who should die.
Those thoughts, however, were mixed in with the second bullet, which happened to collide with Martin, who had began to attempt to wrestle the gun out of her hands. She was so lost in her own mind and her objective that she hadn't even noticed that until after the boy was on the ground, dead right in front of her.
Two shots fired. Two people dead. Neither of them Delilah.
No, no, it's not fair...
The third shot fired. Holly didn't even remember thinking about trying again, but she did. The bullet whizzed through the air, tearing right through the body of - Roy. Not Delilah.
God, why did I have to mess this up?! Why do I ALWAYS mess these things up?
That's when the tire iron hit. Somehow, in her daze, she hadn't even seen the remaining boy run at her. She felt her read begin to ring, the gun slipping from her hands and into the pool of Martin's blood. Dizzier than ever, Holly collapsed onto the ground, finding it hard to breathe.
Gotta... get... uprewfrewgtth
Holly was too weak to form cohesive thoughts anymore, as she lay there among her victims. She probably would have been mortified if she had been able to.
There was a crash. She began to feel hot. It smelled like smoke. Consciousness began to fade.
Messed... up...
From a mix of the intense heat and the blood loss from the blow, Holly passed out, eventually burning in the fire with the rest of the house. She spent her last moments alone, in silence. Much like most of her life.
F10 - HOLLY ROMERO - GAME OVER
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I killed her. Leo didn't have time to fully contemplate his actions as the fire brought his mind back to the house. His jeans had caught on fire, and he ran at the window, screaming in pain and anguish as he threw himself through it. He rained with jagged glass, and rolled in it when he landed. Putting out the fire, but leaving small cuts on his body.
He ran a ways from the house before turning back as it collapsed before his eyes. Leo stared at it, hoping someone would hobble out, screaming for Leo to help. Was that Martin crashing out another window, Amanda or Roy making their way out a fallen wall?
No. He was never going to see them again. They were gone, forever. Looking around he saw a figure run into the night. Was it Delilah? He lost track of her in the house, so she could of made it. Although, his mind could be softening the blow of what happened.
Ignoring the pains, Leo shifted the pack on his shoulder and walked in the direction of the figure. Keeping an eye on the inferno, and even walked backwards until he saw it no more.
((Leo Raclaw continued in Hey There Delilah))
((Thread Concluded))
He ran a ways from the house before turning back as it collapsed before his eyes. Leo stared at it, hoping someone would hobble out, screaming for Leo to help. Was that Martin crashing out another window, Amanda or Roy making their way out a fallen wall?
No. He was never going to see them again. They were gone, forever. Looking around he saw a figure run into the night. Was it Delilah? He lost track of her in the house, so she could of made it. Although, his mind could be softening the blow of what happened.
Ignoring the pains, Leo shifted the pack on his shoulder and walked in the direction of the figure. Keeping an eye on the inferno, and even walked backwards until he saw it no more.
((Leo Raclaw continued in Hey There Delilah))
((Thread Concluded))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Acidic. 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.