The Jarvis Method

[Applesintime]

((Anthony Golden continued from There is the sea, great and broad))

Deckside. Deckside. That had been bugging him for a while now. He could understand the other couple of hints, even if they were sorta obscure. There had been Kurt in the pool, for one, and then a dead body with a Kraken bandana in the general tangle of boats and jetties and bird shit. But deckside had been the one that confused him. There were a bunch of boats around here, and they all had decks so it didn’t really narrow it down. Of course, that was until he found the two bodies lying on the deck, casting his light across the polished wood of the deck

He recognised the first one he came across quickly. Poor Leo, lying on his back in a pool of his blood, holding what was presumably his final wound, a twisted grimace of pain on his face. And a broken arm, by the looks of things. God knows how that happened. RJ had killed him, he remembered. It was only a day ago, but it seemed like a lifetime ago, like he had been trapped in this game for years, the only constant being the death of his friends and more blood on his hands.

Leo didn’t have the bandana Anthony was looking for, though. He shared Beau’s team. And so that led him to the other boy, who took a little longer to place. Gustavo Thicke. Another casualty of Eric’s mad murderous, like Beau’s friend, Cassini. He still regretted not being able to kill him personally. To get revenge. To fulfil that last promise he had made to Beau before he killed him. But that was in the past. Someone else had put him down.

Gus had been shot in the head, which was a mercy. It would have been quick. He shouldn’t have died, none of them should have died, but a bullet to the head was probably the best way to go. If he had to pick his method of death between Leo’s painful - well, what looked like a painful death - and a simple bullet to the head, he’d take the headtopping every time. No death would be preferable, but sometimes you don’t get to pick. Sometimes God says that you’re up, it’s time to ascend to Heaven. Tough luck

Were Beau and Pippi and Leo and Gus always fated to die here, he wondered? To die now, at the cusp of adulthood, scarcely a few months before they would all go off to college or university or work? Or was this a perversion of His plan, an unnatural twisting of what had been intended for those who had lost their lives here? Had it always been in the plan God set out for them that they would be abducted, that they would die, and at the end one, maybe two, would stand victorious?

Who knows. Either way, Gus had a dark red bandana, and while Anthony had been looking for Kurt, to fish him up out of the pool and take his bandana, this was what Ben must have meant by the guy who was deckside. This was the deck of the cruise ship, after all. But first, he sat down on one of the pool chairs, the one you’d see people lying down on at the Miami beaches in the summer, hoping to catch rays. Except it was colder, there were no rays, it was the middle of the night, and instead of a beach, he was sitting on the top of a cruise ship with two dead boys taken before they should have been.

“Wherever you two may be, I pray that you will be judged fairly and truly, and that He sees fit to grant you entrance to Heaven. May you rest in peace.” Anthony bent his head in prayer.

[AnimeNerd]

[[RJ Blackburn continued from Hollywood’s First Scene With a Flushing Toilet]]

Sleep had come, but not enough for RJ’s tastes. Nightmares plagued him, and when they mixed with his already existing paranoia, it left him restless enough that it was barely more than few hours-maybe. He hadn't bothered to look at a clock before sleeping and had yet to afterwards, but he felt some measure of rested, so he figured at least a couple hours had passed.

And then his restlessness had led him here. It was out in the open, but night was a good cover. A natural camouflage when combined with his sweatshirt, at least a little bit. A part of him was tempted to just sit somewhere and wait until either he finds someone or someone finds him.

The former happened before the latter could. And in a way that was either the best or worst possibility, he wasn't sure.

He had just wanted to look over the two of them again. The team mate that died in front of him and the friend he wished he never killed. Give them some measure of final respects. They both deserved that much. Really, they deserved much better, but there wasn't anything RJ could do about that.

But there he was. Plain as day, giving last rites to the corpses like he had any authority in doing so after killing two innocent people.

And this time? RJ wasn't going to let this asshole escape.

He brought up the gun, and only said two words before firing it in Anthony's direction.

"Hey fucker."

[Applesintime]

Staring down at the two bodies, Anthony failed to notice the footsteps. He was too busy thinking. About their death, about fate, about his fate. About how fucking rotten, how unfair this all was. They shouldn't have died. But their killers were either dead or marked for death. The best thing Anthony could do for Leo was avenge him, make sure his killer wasn't going to get away with it and escape with his life, make a life out of the ones he had taken.

Speak of the devil, and he will come, however.

Anthony had only a few moments to react when he heard RJ, looked up at the gun pointed at him, and threw himself to the left. The bullet whizzed past him, and he crashed into the deck, scrambling quickly to his feet, holding the axe with both hands. There was no Bacchia. Was she dead? Behind him? Or maybe they had just split up. Either way, there was nobody to interrupt them. There was nobody to stop them.

One way or the other, someone was going to die tonight.

"Where's your little bitch, huh?" Anthony snarled at him. The rifle had a lot of length, so he needed to get in close. If he couldn't lift the rifle, he couldn't shoot him. And if he was shot, it was probably over for him. Running parallel to him, trying to stay out of the way of his rifle, Anthony made a rush for him, swinging the axe, bringing it down to bear on RJ.

[AnimeNerd]

And of course, it could never just be easy, could it?

Anthony got out of the way, because of course he did, and RJ finally noticed the weapon in his hands. Rather than the wooden plank that nearly bashed his head in, there was an axe. A fucking axe, because apparently no one understood the idea that giving weapons to crazy people would always end poorly.

It didn't matter. Anthony had an axe, but RJ had a gun. A gun he needed to aim better with, but a gun nonetheless.

His hands felt almost mechanical in how they loaded the next shot, Anthony apparently choosing that very moment to be a dick verbally. 'Two can play at that game,' he thought to himself as he jumped back and just barely out of the way of the blades reach.

"What happened to 'Thou shalt not kill,' ya hypocrite?!"

The next bullet wasn't a gut shot, but it at least lodged in the floorboards near Anthony's feet. Should've at least given him more room to breath.

[Applesintime]

He didn't reply to that. He wasn't going to give RJ the dignity of a response. Bacchia didn't seem to be around at the least, which meant that it was definitely just him and RJ. Unless he had allied with more players, but then there would be a lot more people here. His swing missed, and the next shot lodged itself in the floorboards. It would be just the fucking thing for him to get shot in the dick, wouldn't it. He'd been kicked what, three times? Olivia, RJ, and then Luanne. It sure fucking hurt a lot.

It didn't matter, because he wouldn't get shot. All he needed to do was get up close, twat him with the axe, and it'd be over. He'd have RJ's gun, and that would be a lot better than an axe. Better at killing players, too. But he didn't have it, wouldn't have it until RJ was dead.

How did they go from discussing books a week ago, to being out for each other's blood now? It was a fucking waste. But RJ had started this, started it by shooting Leo. It seemed only fitting that his fate would be to end here. God's plan was mysterious, but it always favoured the pious and the righteous. Throwing himself towards RJ, Anthony swung for him again. Just one hit and it would be over. That went for him too, though. Had to be careful. Or he would be the one lying dead.

[AnimeNerd]

Yeah, shut the fuck up-like Anthony had any right to criticize him! RJ probably wasn't the best person on that boat, but at least he wasn't religious zealot that probably would tell Pippi's parents she deserved to die or some shit! If he got the chance, one of the first thing he was doing was apologizing to Leo's family if he won. It wouldn't change anything, but they at least deserved to know their child's killer regretted what he'd done.

Later, later. Mourning was for the dead, and he wasn't dead yet-just adding to their ranks.

Not that fate didn't have ideas of sending him to the afterlife sooner, though. He just had to feel the instinct to look down when readying the next shot. Mental math or something telling him to pay attention to the bullet. Seven total-minus two, and that equals five.

Add to that a distracted idiot and it meant a cut across RJ's chest.

"MOTHERFUCKER!"

He'd jumped away before it could hit anything too important, but it was still too slow. The cut was more on the superficial side, but it still fucking hurt God Damn it!

If there was anything left of the Anthony RJ once knew, it wasn't going to show itself ever again after this.

And because of that, RJ felt no regrets or hesitation as the De Lisle's third shot was aimed for Anthony's midsection.

[Applesintime]

He got a hit in on RJ, It wasn't going to be a killer, but it was a distraction. The pain would cloud his mind, make itself foggy, make him slow. And then all he had to do was finish, follow through, and then he'd be dead. It was weird, looking at stuff this way, thinking about how you can best kill your friend, but that was this fucking show's fault. Looking up at RJ, he raised the axe, readied himself to jump at him, bury that axe in his goddamn chest-

Anthony realised, a second too late, that RJ had the rifle up.

"Sh-"

The only sound, apart from the bullet that hit Anthony impacting the deck, was him crumpling to the ground, the axe clattering down onto the floor alongside him.

[AnimeNerd]

And like that, it was done. Blood was staining Anthony's shirt. The life was leaving him, or already had.

RJ won.

He wanted to yell. To scream. To kick and beat the boy's corpse. Spit on it. Maybe even throw him overboard if his noodle limbs could've actually managed it. Anthony Golden had gone from a friend to someone that tried to kill him and claim it was what God wanted. RJ of all people should've had every right to abuse his corpse in that moment.

But he didn't. Because even with the Hell that the last three days had been, Anthony was a person. Someone that deserved some measure of respect. At the very least, his parents were going to be devastated enough as it was. RJ didn't need to make it worse-sending their son back bruised and broken, if at all.

He was going to do horrible things here, but Ra Jin Blackburn refused to become a monster.

So he turned his back on the former friend, only two words leaving his mouth as limped towards the pool chairs.

"Goodbye, Anthony."

Sitting at the chair and leaving the gun-RJ's gun-at his side, he dug through his bag for the first aid kit and the extra clothes. The button up wasn't something he planned to wear, but there wasn't much choice when the tank top and sweat shirt were being colored crimson.

And he liked that jacket, too.

He blinked away the tears as he focused on the task at hand. Remove the obstacles (sweat shirt and tank top), clean up the area around the wound, bandage it, and cover it back up.

That was all he had to do. Simple.

[Applesintime]

As RJ started to take care of his wounds, from behind him came the faint noise of someone setting his foot down gently, trying not to make a sound. Of course, they weren’t entirely quiet.

[AnimeNerd]

Rum stung like a bitch when cleaning a wound, but it was one of the more effective ways to do so if he remembered right, so it was what he did. A number of thoughts ran through his skull. Would the alcohol go in his bloodstream and get him slightly drunk? Probably not, but it was an interesting thought. Had Anthony's family been watching that? Had his own? He hoped not. He hoped most people were asleep at this hour, whatever it was. He doubted anyone would enjoy the show of a skinny teenager soaking his chest is a slippery liquid, but he didn't care. RJ was doing this for himself. For the greater good of his well-being. For-

A sound.

From behind.

From the direction of Anthony.

How often did slasher killers go down with only one shot?

He dropped the rum.

His hand went for his gun.

He turned.

He-

[Applesintime]

RJ wasn’t quick enough.

He had seen him, but Anthony was too close to cock this up. Yelling at the top of his lungs, in defiance of RJ’s attempt to murder him, and also pain because his side was throbbing, was bleeding, and just generally hurt like a bitch, Anthony brought the axe down onto his skull.

[AnimeNerd]

They say your life flashes before your eyes when you die. Memories of your life, from the most important moments, to the simple things. Tragedies, happy moments, everything in between-all of it. There were probably a good number of authors and scriptwriters and general story tellers that had used the trope millions upon millions of times, not actually knowing if it was true or not.

RJ Blackburn only saw someone he once called a friend scream in rage before the oblivion took him.

At least he never had to feel his skull spilt open, and the pain that would come with it.

RA JIN "RJ" BLACKBURN, CK 09: DECEASED

[Applesintime]

The axe bit into RJ's head with a wet, fleshy sound, and he went limp. It was over. It was finally fucking over, and Anthony could finally let out a gasp, take a breath of air. It had lasted what, a minute or two, from RJ stumbling upon him praying for the bodies to RJ joining them? In a way, it was sort of ironic. RJ had shot Leo here, and this was where he had met his end.

"Goodbye, you fuck." Anthony spat, reaching down to feel his side, the gunshot wound. It had went in, but had it went out? His fingers touched upon a ragged mass of flesh in his side and he hissed. The bullet must have went through him, through the fleshy part of his side, but it missed anything important, anything vital. It hurt a fucking lot, like nothing he had ever experienced before, but it would be fine. He would heal. Playing dead was a split-second decision, but it turned out to be the right one. He had crept up behind RJ, very carefully picking his axe up to avoid making any sound, and then brought it down onto his head at the last moment.

And now he was here, staring down at his former friend's dead body, the blood still dripping from his axe. The sight brought no remorse, but it didn't bring any joy either. Just another one to tick off his list, another person he wouldn't have to worry about shooting him in the back. They had been friends just a few short days ago. Four days ago, Beau had been doing shit on his YouTube channel. Four days ago, Pippi had been... doing whatever Pippi did. RJ was reading. They had been talking about books, and then the next day, they were abducted, and four days later Anthony had put an axe into RJ's head and was staring down at his body. It didn't matter, didn't help him do anything, but he somehow felt he owed it to him, to burn it into his brain. A penance of sorts, or a reminder that he was a person too.

The faint feeling of his shirt gradually growing more damp broke Anthony out of his stupor. He had been shot, yes, he should probably do something about that before he bleeds to death like a fucking idiot. Sitting down next to the pool chair that RJ was on, Anthony stole RJ's medical kit, upending it and letting the supplies fall out onto the deck. Right. He needed to disinfect the gunshot wound first. What would Dad do? Dad had a massive fuckoff ambulance, and he didn't, but anyway. He had Beau's alcohol; RJ's rum had fallen out of his hand and shattered on the deck floor, so this was the best he could. Pulling the rum out of his bag, Anthony opened it and gently poured some into the entrance woun-

"FUCK!" Ow fuck that burned that burned that hurt so much what the fuck calm down it was subsiding it was subsiding. Fuck. The pain was good, because that meant it was working. It stung like a bitch, and that was good. The exit wound was a little harder because it was on his back, but with a bit of rum dribbling down his back, Anthony managed to disinfect it, with less swearing and scattered thoughts than the entrance. For good measure, he drank the rest, and then tossed the bottle under the pool chair. Next, the bandages. The gauze. Wrapping it around his torso, he did two loops, making sure to cover both wounds, and then deemed it good enough. It felt weird, and it was sort of tight, but it would keep him alive. It wouldn't bleed so much. He could take a look in the morning. It was only a flesh wound.

Next, to loot RJ himself. The rifle took obvious priority. He had played a little of the new update to Battlegrounds, and so he knew what it was; a De Lisle Carbine. It had been added in the last update, and- oh, that was just to fucking hype this season, wasn't it? Add all the cool weapons and shit, so when people see x getting killed by y they can say oh cool, that's my favourite gun! Ugh. It was silenced, though, which would be extremely useful. After some fiddling with the gun, he eventually ejected the magazine, and got the rest out. He could see a couple of them were like, a little lighter on bullets than others because there were little holes in the side, and so he sort of swapped them around, pushing the bullets out and putting them back in, so the result was he now had a couple of full magazines and one empty one, which he pushed under the pool chair, and slotted one in.

Funnily enough, RJ also had a dark red bandana, and Anthony liberated it from his body. Wasn't much else to do here, really. He considered leaving the axe behind, but he might need a melee weapon, so he just sort of stuck it in his bag, with the handle sticking out of the bag. It was unwieldy and sort of weird but he could think of a solution tomorrow, Looking back, at RJ lying on his pool chair, near his victim and Gus, he let out a sigh. There wasn't any turning back, even if he wanted to. He had a gun, three kills under his belt, and with luck, there would be more.

"Bye, Leo."

((Anthony Golden continued in I Want Blood, Guts and Chocolate Cake))