[[Delilah Rivers Continued From: Devil Nights.]]
Delilah curled up in her blanket.
She wasn't at home.
Morning light was already peeking in through the doors and she hadn't gotten any sleep yet. Well, it was to be expected considering that she had never slept on bare ground before. It was a good place, the one other place besides the town, which had some form of human shelter. She and Sam had passed it once, but never actually went here. It was the ranch and it was the only place she could think of running to once she left the burning behind.
Delilah had visited the home first, as anyone would. It was the most welcoming place for who knows how far. She had cried then. Sobbed a long, hard time. She had failed at keeping her best friend alive, perhaps the one person who she knew she could trust completely and now she was gone forever and she was all alone. She was alone, without anyone to keep her grounded, without the one girl at school who she had the most fun with and could talk about anything with. Pepper was gone, burned away and all she had left were the memories.
All she could do now, was fend for herself. Keep herself alive; the first thought she had was to leave the house immediately.
Other people were going to seek out the house first and foremost and then she'd be trapped; forced to deal with people in a way she wasn't comfortable with, one bit - Just like the last house she was in. She left the home with a blanket-like cloth and hid in the stables for some rest.
It was terrifying for her to even continue doing what she was doing, no matter how justified she was in doing so. She didn't want to kill anybody and if she could, she was going to avoid everyone and wait it off as long as humanly possible. They were all going to track her down now, because the Sheriff's announcements were going to add even more to her body count, skewing her perception to others. It wasn't fair. She wasn't a mass murderer. She just wanted to stay alive and only did what she had to do to protect herself. It wasn't like she was actively hunting down anyone or anything.
No. They came to her first. They were the hunters. She just happened to be the cornered wolf, with no other option but to strike back.
So she struck back.
It didn't have to be this way. There was still Sam. He could keep her safe. She'd hide behind him. There would be no need to strike back ever again.
The young French Canadian girl, closed her eyes, trying to think of nothing but sleep. She needed the energy and rest if she were going to be able to survive this place any longer.
Hey There Delilah
Open
It didn't work. She couldn't sleep. The image of the burning porch roof collapsing on Pepper's body, kept her awake.
She rolled around on the stable ground, tossing and turning in the pen at the very corner of the building, hidden in-between large stacks of hay which she used as makeshift pillows. Not working. She needed something to distract herself. Maybe food? She usually got drowsy after every meal after all.
Delilah opened the bag she had taken from Patrick, pouring the contents out as quickly as possible. Richard's cowbell fell out and landed with a dull clang on the floor. She had almost forgotten about that.
The loaves of bread were combined with the tin of Spam, to make Spam sandwiches and were the first to go. She wasn't usually one for Spam, but in this place, the lunch meat seemed to taste alot better, especially when washed down with water.
Next thing she knew, she was tapping the cowbell quietly with her cased saber, awaiting for the drowsiness to kick in.
She rolled around on the stable ground, tossing and turning in the pen at the very corner of the building, hidden in-between large stacks of hay which she used as makeshift pillows. Not working. She needed something to distract herself. Maybe food? She usually got drowsy after every meal after all.
Delilah opened the bag she had taken from Patrick, pouring the contents out as quickly as possible. Richard's cowbell fell out and landed with a dull clang on the floor. She had almost forgotten about that.
The loaves of bread were combined with the tin of Spam, to make Spam sandwiches and were the first to go. She wasn't usually one for Spam, but in this place, the lunch meat seemed to taste alot better, especially when washed down with water.
Next thing she knew, she was tapping the cowbell quietly with her cased saber, awaiting for the drowsiness to kick in.
((Leo Raclaw continued from Devil Nights))
They were gone. It had hit Leo after God-knows-how-long that everyone was really dead. Everyone else in the house, and in the announcements. For fucks sake, he'd never see any of them again. Leo could never again tell Bruce that his latest idea would get him killed, and then say he was get the camera. Never get to thank Roy for saving his life, or laugh at them when they got rescued and say, "I told you so."
He desperately tried to put faces to the names in the last announcements, but he never paid attention to his peers enough. Maybe it was better that way, make it easier to lose them. Until they were rescued, or was this actually gonna play through? The thought made him dizzy with anxiety, and had to stop for a breath. Leaning on the railing of the bridge Leo looked at the water as it passed.
It was more peaceful than it had a right to be. The moonlight reflecting off the current. This was the kind of place Leo would've liked to stop by on one of his walks, and stare at the water as long as he wanted.
However, that could get him killed here. So he pushed himself off, and started to walk across when he spotted the blood. He lost his flashlight in the house fire, but his eyes had adjusted to the dark enough for him to know what it was. The bridge was no longer as peaceful and comfortable.
The fact that he had killed someone had finally set into his mind. He was able to keep it away, orbiting around his head until it crashed into his skull. Leo started to constantly replay the events. Wondering how he could of changed the outcome, and every time he felt more and more responsibility and guilt. Out of everyone in that group Leo felt like that he was the least worthy to be alive. All he did was cower on the ground while they died, and even Roy, Roy saved his life.
Maybe, maybe killing Holly can make it up to them. He thought as he saw the ranch, and walked to it. He was pretty sure she deserved it, but it didn't quell the mass of guilt in his stomach. Leaning with his arm on the wall, and his face resting on it he wondered if he should've let Holly kill him at the house. Then she would have to deal with the game.
No. He owed it to Roy, Amanda, and Martin to make it out of here. To move on with his life, somehow. Somehow, and he had to get as many people out of here before then. Why not just run away? Forget the rest, and save myself. But he remembered that's what the 'tard said Bruce tried.
"Fuck." He moaned. Leo was in way over his head, and getting deeper. Already the pressure was setting in. What would he do if he escaped, how would he explain killing Holly, and would he goto jail regardless? Yawning, he decided he was going inside to find a place to sleep. Then he'd find Benny, and Delilah if she escaped.
They were gone. It had hit Leo after God-knows-how-long that everyone was really dead. Everyone else in the house, and in the announcements. For fucks sake, he'd never see any of them again. Leo could never again tell Bruce that his latest idea would get him killed, and then say he was get the camera. Never get to thank Roy for saving his life, or laugh at them when they got rescued and say, "I told you so."
He desperately tried to put faces to the names in the last announcements, but he never paid attention to his peers enough. Maybe it was better that way, make it easier to lose them. Until they were rescued, or was this actually gonna play through? The thought made him dizzy with anxiety, and had to stop for a breath. Leaning on the railing of the bridge Leo looked at the water as it passed.
It was more peaceful than it had a right to be. The moonlight reflecting off the current. This was the kind of place Leo would've liked to stop by on one of his walks, and stare at the water as long as he wanted.
However, that could get him killed here. So he pushed himself off, and started to walk across when he spotted the blood. He lost his flashlight in the house fire, but his eyes had adjusted to the dark enough for him to know what it was. The bridge was no longer as peaceful and comfortable.
The fact that he had killed someone had finally set into his mind. He was able to keep it away, orbiting around his head until it crashed into his skull. Leo started to constantly replay the events. Wondering how he could of changed the outcome, and every time he felt more and more responsibility and guilt. Out of everyone in that group Leo felt like that he was the least worthy to be alive. All he did was cower on the ground while they died, and even Roy, Roy saved his life.
Maybe, maybe killing Holly can make it up to them. He thought as he saw the ranch, and walked to it. He was pretty sure she deserved it, but it didn't quell the mass of guilt in his stomach. Leaning with his arm on the wall, and his face resting on it he wondered if he should've let Holly kill him at the house. Then she would have to deal with the game.
No. He owed it to Roy, Amanda, and Martin to make it out of here. To move on with his life, somehow. Somehow, and he had to get as many people out of here before then. Why not just run away? Forget the rest, and save myself. But he remembered that's what the 'tard said Bruce tried.
"Fuck." He moaned. Leo was in way over his head, and getting deeper. Already the pressure was setting in. What would he do if he escaped, how would he explain killing Holly, and would he goto jail regardless? Yawning, he decided he was going inside to find a place to sleep. Then he'd find Benny, and Delilah if she escaped.
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The familiar warm feeling after a meal kicked in and Delilah knew what that meant.
She slowly laid down on the stable ground, blanket over her body, next to the hay and closed her eyes.
The saber remained in her hand.
She slowly laid down on the stable ground, blanket over her body, next to the hay and closed her eyes.
The saber remained in her hand.
Despite himself, Leo held himself as he walked into the stables. It was still cold from the morning, and for some reason it made him feel safer. Meandering forward, Leo decided it was better to continue planning after some rest. Looking for a suitable place to sleep, Leo noted that there wasn't any signs a horse, or any animal, had ever been there.
"Not even shit." He whispered, but giggled a little. "Makes this a better place to sleep." There was nothing worse than waking up to the smell of shit. Living with animals meant it happened too many times for Leo's liking. Still, he'd rather be home cleaning up Jaws' turds than here at Sheriff 'Tardo's Murder Funville: Fun for the whole family.
"Hey, kids!" An overly enthusiastic announcer called. "Do you need something to do for the weekend? Well, why not kill all your class mates at Sheriff 'Tardo's Murder Funville! It's fun for the whole family."
After a cut to the fucking desert the voice continued. "You're parents don't need to know, nor do you even need to consent to coming! We'll just kidnap y'all," A cut to Leo's class being gassed. "and then the fun will begin when we give everyone a bag of essentials and a weapon."
However, Leo's commercial ended when he saw Delilah sleeping. He wondered if he should wake her up, but threw the idea away. He almost got her killed by bringing her in the house, so his was probably the last face she'd want to see. Hell, it was his fault Pepper died. Thinking about it, Leo began to think his plan was futile. The last people he joined all died, and it was likely it would happen again and again until one lived.
Shaking his head vigorously, Leo tried to get his mind to stop talking, to stop showing images, to stop working. Oblivion, all he wanted was a dreamless sleep and a short time of nothing. Sighing, Leo backed away from Delilah and whispered,
"Good-bye, and I'm sorry."
"Not even shit." He whispered, but giggled a little. "Makes this a better place to sleep." There was nothing worse than waking up to the smell of shit. Living with animals meant it happened too many times for Leo's liking. Still, he'd rather be home cleaning up Jaws' turds than here at Sheriff 'Tardo's Murder Funville: Fun for the whole family.
"Hey, kids!" An overly enthusiastic announcer called. "Do you need something to do for the weekend? Well, why not kill all your class mates at Sheriff 'Tardo's Murder Funville! It's fun for the whole family."
After a cut to the fucking desert the voice continued. "You're parents don't need to know, nor do you even need to consent to coming! We'll just kidnap y'all," A cut to Leo's class being gassed. "and then the fun will begin when we give everyone a bag of essentials and a weapon."
However, Leo's commercial ended when he saw Delilah sleeping. He wondered if he should wake her up, but threw the idea away. He almost got her killed by bringing her in the house, so his was probably the last face she'd want to see. Hell, it was his fault Pepper died. Thinking about it, Leo began to think his plan was futile. The last people he joined all died, and it was likely it would happen again and again until one lived.
Shaking his head vigorously, Leo tried to get his mind to stop talking, to stop showing images, to stop working. Oblivion, all he wanted was a dreamless sleep and a short time of nothing. Sighing, Leo backed away from Delilah and whispered,
"Good-bye, and I'm sorry."
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.
"Hey there, Delilah. Can you hear me? Wake up."
"Mmm, huh-what...?" The first face she saw made her own face and heart practically light up.
"Samuel."
There he was again, sitting right next to her with that same warm, honest and caring smile that had won her over back when he rescued her from the mines. Delilah's happiness quickly turned to confusion when she realized that she was no longer at the ranch. Sam's amused expression seemed to understand that.
"Hey now, I promised you that we would be back on that train before we know it... and here we are."
All the thoughts and experiences from the desert had just about been erased from her thoughts right then. It was true. They were back on the train, the same train that had brought them to the plains in the first place. She was sitting on a chair with a table similar to the one from before she heard that Sheriff's voice. She was... she was safe. Alive. She had made it.
She scooted over and wrapped her arms around him again, but unlike the first time, she allowed herself to take in his warmth with a much longer lasting hug before letting go. She had missed him so much.
"Merci Beacoup."
"Aw, don't mention it. You should probably eat something." He held up a piece of toast and a jar of something familiar.
"Syrup?" He said with a laugh.
"Samuel. Te me rends heureuse."
"Hm. I don't speak French too well... is that a 'yes please?'" Another warm smile.
"Oh uh. So-sorry, Samuel. What I meant to say was uh, you make me so-very happy and um... Je t'aime."
Delilah's eyes concentrated on the floor once she saw Sam's blank look and then she blushed.
"What I wanted to say is: I love you, Sam."
Delilah's face went up and her eyelids fluttered open once again as she said the last few words. He was looking down right at her and she smiled. It felt nice to say those words and she repeated it once more.
"I love you, Sam."
He was the Samson to her Delilah. It felt right.
But something was wrong. He was looking down at her, which meant she was lying down; something of which she wasn't doing a few seconds ago. Then the surroundings started to get wavy and the nicely maintained train interiors began to shift into worn down wooden ones.
The boy was not Samuel Wilson.
Delilah only had time to manage a shocked gasp, before the burlap texture of some sort of bag was pushed down onto her face, completely obscuring her entire view and completely confusing the young girl. Then she felt the pressure of hands from above the burlap sack smothering the life from her and realized what was going on.
Someone was trying to kill her.
This couldn't be happening. Delilah tried to get up, tried moving her hands and legs to escape, but she was being held down. Whoever was doing this was completely out-powering the small girl's frail muscles and Delilah began to scream out. She pushed at the boy's torso, trying to force him off, but the more she did, the harder the boy applied pressure to the burlap bag being pressed against her face. She tried punching and clawing at his arms, but she wasn't strong enough.
Air was running thin. She could literally feel it happening as she struggled to break free, while her breathing increased. Delilah could feel hay and dirt particles enter her air passageways and she felt like she was being choked. A string of deep coughs started to escape Delilah's throat, lending to more oxygen loss. She couldn't escape and she knew what she had to do: She had to end him. It was either him or her and there was no other way.
Delilah lifted her saber, still grasped in her hand and blindly attempted to stab it into the boy’s side, but all she could feel was the sword slicing into thin air. She began to swipe frantically through the air hoping that she'd get somewhere, but to no avail. Instead her grip loosened and the saber was flung a short distance away from her hand. Then Delilah started to panic.
Her heart rate increased significantly with the loss of her weapon and much needed oxygen. Her arms reached out, trying to find the weapon again, but she couldn't see where it was, with the burlap sack still covering her head. For all she knew it was ultimately out of reach and she was wasting much needed energy trying to get it. There was nothing else she could do.
She gave up and began to beg for her life.
"Stop. Stop it pleeeaase... I'm sorry. I'm-I'm sorry. I-I promise I won't hurt anyone anymore. Just please don't kill me like this. Please don't kill me..."
And then Delilah began sobbing.
"I just--- I really don't want to die..."
After that Delilah had just found it impossible to talk anymore. Her vision was fading and she was beginning to feel light-headed from a lack of oxygen to her brain. Eventually her crying and movements stopped altogether.
"Hey there, Delilah. Can you hear me? Wake up. We're almost there!"
They were on the train again, except it wasn't Sam talking to her this time. It was her best friend. Just as it had been before everything happened.
"Oh right-- Hey, where are we going anyway?"
Pepper smiled and held Delilah's hand tightly. Was it just a bad dream?
"Don't worry Delilah. We're on the train and we're heading home."
F22: Delilah Rivers - Game Over.
"Mmm, huh-what...?" The first face she saw made her own face and heart practically light up.
"Samuel."
There he was again, sitting right next to her with that same warm, honest and caring smile that had won her over back when he rescued her from the mines. Delilah's happiness quickly turned to confusion when she realized that she was no longer at the ranch. Sam's amused expression seemed to understand that.
"Hey now, I promised you that we would be back on that train before we know it... and here we are."
All the thoughts and experiences from the desert had just about been erased from her thoughts right then. It was true. They were back on the train, the same train that had brought them to the plains in the first place. She was sitting on a chair with a table similar to the one from before she heard that Sheriff's voice. She was... she was safe. Alive. She had made it.
She scooted over and wrapped her arms around him again, but unlike the first time, she allowed herself to take in his warmth with a much longer lasting hug before letting go. She had missed him so much.
"Merci Beacoup."
"Aw, don't mention it. You should probably eat something." He held up a piece of toast and a jar of something familiar.
"Syrup?" He said with a laugh.
"Samuel. Te me rends heureuse."
"Hm. I don't speak French too well... is that a 'yes please?'" Another warm smile.
"Oh uh. So-sorry, Samuel. What I meant to say was uh, you make me so-very happy and um... Je t'aime."
Delilah's eyes concentrated on the floor once she saw Sam's blank look and then she blushed.
"What I wanted to say is: I love you, Sam."
Delilah's face went up and her eyelids fluttered open once again as she said the last few words. He was looking down right at her and she smiled. It felt nice to say those words and she repeated it once more.
"I love you, Sam."
He was the Samson to her Delilah. It felt right.
But something was wrong. He was looking down at her, which meant she was lying down; something of which she wasn't doing a few seconds ago. Then the surroundings started to get wavy and the nicely maintained train interiors began to shift into worn down wooden ones.
The boy was not Samuel Wilson.
Delilah only had time to manage a shocked gasp, before the burlap texture of some sort of bag was pushed down onto her face, completely obscuring her entire view and completely confusing the young girl. Then she felt the pressure of hands from above the burlap sack smothering the life from her and realized what was going on.
Someone was trying to kill her.
This couldn't be happening. Delilah tried to get up, tried moving her hands and legs to escape, but she was being held down. Whoever was doing this was completely out-powering the small girl's frail muscles and Delilah began to scream out. She pushed at the boy's torso, trying to force him off, but the more she did, the harder the boy applied pressure to the burlap bag being pressed against her face. She tried punching and clawing at his arms, but she wasn't strong enough.
Air was running thin. She could literally feel it happening as she struggled to break free, while her breathing increased. Delilah could feel hay and dirt particles enter her air passageways and she felt like she was being choked. A string of deep coughs started to escape Delilah's throat, lending to more oxygen loss. She couldn't escape and she knew what she had to do: She had to end him. It was either him or her and there was no other way.
Delilah lifted her saber, still grasped in her hand and blindly attempted to stab it into the boy’s side, but all she could feel was the sword slicing into thin air. She began to swipe frantically through the air hoping that she'd get somewhere, but to no avail. Instead her grip loosened and the saber was flung a short distance away from her hand. Then Delilah started to panic.
Her heart rate increased significantly with the loss of her weapon and much needed oxygen. Her arms reached out, trying to find the weapon again, but she couldn't see where it was, with the burlap sack still covering her head. For all she knew it was ultimately out of reach and she was wasting much needed energy trying to get it. There was nothing else she could do.
She gave up and began to beg for her life.
"Stop. Stop it pleeeaase... I'm sorry. I'm-I'm sorry. I-I promise I won't hurt anyone anymore. Just please don't kill me like this. Please don't kill me..."
And then Delilah began sobbing.
"I just--- I really don't want to die..."
After that Delilah had just found it impossible to talk anymore. Her vision was fading and she was beginning to feel light-headed from a lack of oxygen to her brain. Eventually her crying and movements stopped altogether.
"Hey there, Delilah. Can you hear me? Wake up. We're almost there!"
They were on the train again, except it wasn't Sam talking to her this time. It was her best friend. Just as it had been before everything happened.
"Oh right-- Hey, where are we going anyway?"
Pepper smiled and held Delilah's hand tightly. Was it just a bad dream?
"Don't worry Delilah. We're on the train and we're heading home."
F22: Delilah Rivers - Game Over.
In shock, Leo petrified in place over Delilah. He wasn't even sure what had happened to make him to smother her. A flash of emotion took over, and a burlap sack later her was suffocating his High School crush. Minutes passed and he forced himself away from Delilah's body, a gaze of horror was fixed on it. Looking away he pieced the events together.
He'd been walking away, facing being alone. With what was left of the students on the train, and the ones who were killing. Names of those who had killed on the announcements were playing in his head. Making notes of who to avoid when he remembered. Delilah's name had come up. In fact, that's what had started the slaughter at the house. With this realization, Leo looked at Delilah's sleeping form.
It was her fault too. His eyes dilated as the conclusions fell in place. Holly was trying to protect us. It was all an accident. She must have been there for one of Delilah's earlier kills, and ran into their group. Then she saw Delilah come in, and all hell broke loose.
He couldn't move, and breathing had become an afterthought to not break down and scream. He couldn't piece together the ethics of Holly's behavior, or his for that matter. He was back to where he was while wandering around, but all the scenarios of what he could have done went under heavy criticisms.
I can't let her do this anymore. Delilah was killing, willingly. She probably would have done Leo in if she had the chance, and that thought hurt him. The pain didn't feel justified, but that made it hurt all the more. Leo found the bag a few steps away, and walked slowly towards her.
When he was close enough he looked at the sword, and realized it couldn't be moved. Shaking, Leo wanted to talk himself out of this. But somehow it came back to this, murder. Was it revenge, saving lives, or Leo just giving into the game? He didn't go further when he saw Delilah wake up.
Leaning against a wall, Leo rubbed his hands on his temples. What kind of person was he becoming? He killed two girls, and the reasons felt ethical to the situations, but he felt terrible. Miserable to a point he never could have fathomed before. He had to get out of here.
Grabbing the packs and the sword Leo prepared to leave when his eyes met Delilah's body. He felt like he should do something, like close her eyes or something. Yet all he felt was disgust. He felt disgusted by this situation, and the way Delilah made him feel. With what little saliva that was left in his mouth, Leo spat on her face. It felt odd, like it would be more satisfying than it was.
Leo walked out of the stables, and looked at the wasteland before him. What was that saying? C'est La Vie? That was it, I think. This was gonna be worse, far worse, than he actually gave it credit for. And he probably wasn't strong enough to live, but he wasn't sure he wanted to.
C'est La Vie
[[Leo Raclaw continued This Too Will Pass]]
He'd been walking away, facing being alone. With what was left of the students on the train, and the ones who were killing. Names of those who had killed on the announcements were playing in his head. Making notes of who to avoid when he remembered. Delilah's name had come up. In fact, that's what had started the slaughter at the house. With this realization, Leo looked at Delilah's sleeping form.
It was her fault too. His eyes dilated as the conclusions fell in place. Holly was trying to protect us. It was all an accident. She must have been there for one of Delilah's earlier kills, and ran into their group. Then she saw Delilah come in, and all hell broke loose.
He couldn't move, and breathing had become an afterthought to not break down and scream. He couldn't piece together the ethics of Holly's behavior, or his for that matter. He was back to where he was while wandering around, but all the scenarios of what he could have done went under heavy criticisms.
I can't let her do this anymore. Delilah was killing, willingly. She probably would have done Leo in if she had the chance, and that thought hurt him. The pain didn't feel justified, but that made it hurt all the more. Leo found the bag a few steps away, and walked slowly towards her.
When he was close enough he looked at the sword, and realized it couldn't be moved. Shaking, Leo wanted to talk himself out of this. But somehow it came back to this, murder. Was it revenge, saving lives, or Leo just giving into the game? He didn't go further when he saw Delilah wake up.
Leaning against a wall, Leo rubbed his hands on his temples. What kind of person was he becoming? He killed two girls, and the reasons felt ethical to the situations, but he felt terrible. Miserable to a point he never could have fathomed before. He had to get out of here.
Grabbing the packs and the sword Leo prepared to leave when his eyes met Delilah's body. He felt like he should do something, like close her eyes or something. Yet all he felt was disgust. He felt disgusted by this situation, and the way Delilah made him feel. With what little saliva that was left in his mouth, Leo spat on her face. It felt odd, like it would be more satisfying than it was.
Leo walked out of the stables, and looked at the wasteland before him. What was that saying? C'est La Vie? That was it, I think. This was gonna be worse, far worse, than he actually gave it credit for. And he probably wasn't strong enough to live, but he wasn't sure he wanted to.
C'est La Vie
[[Leo Raclaw continued This Too Will Pass]]
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.