As the first girl dropped, April ducked and ran towards a large concrete pillar that would provide some form of cover if they shot back. Her heart pounded in her chest as she waited for a response. Gunshots, footsteps, anything, but it never came. April pulled the empty magazine from her pistol and dropped it on the floor beside her. It met the floor with a sharp clink. She slammed a fresh magazine into the grip and pulled back the slide, taking care not to catch the release with her palm. Would it have been difficult for them to give her a left-handed pistol? Did those even exist? April rolled her shoulders, in an attempt to regain her focus, and pressed her back flat against the damp concrete pillar. She took a long, deep breath and coughed, rattling her chest. There was a pungent mustiness in the air, mixed with the sickly-sweet taste of blood. Moments passed, as April waited for some form of response, and when she was sure no one was firing at her, she pressed off the pillar and made for the exit. She never looked back.
It would have been all too easy for April to get lost forever in the mall. As the sun fell, the mall grew darker, and even if the power was on it wouldn’t have helped. Without shopfronts, it was impossible for April to find her bearings. So she stumbled blindly along endless corridors, before she collided, almost headfirst, into a fire exit near what was once a food court. She fumbled for the metal bar, gripping it with both hands once she found it and pressing it down with what little of her strength remained. The door opened too slowly for her liking, and she dug her shoulder into it, pushing with all her weight until she fell out of the building and into the outside world.
Then, she fell, and lie flat on her back, arms and legs outstretched like a snow angel. Just when April thought she had the island figured out, it pulled something new out of its sleeve. She had gone from jungles and military outposts and traps to something that almost resembled society in the space of a night. This island is an anachronism, She thought. Even the sweater on her back made no sense. Megan said it came from the island, sure, but there was nothing in that mall. April concluded that Megan had in fact never been to an H&M on the island, and just happened to be carrying a sweater with her. It made more sense than the alternative, anyway.
April rolled onto her front. She had spent too much time lying around. Slowly, she sat up and wiped her eyes. It took her a bit longer to get on her feet, but she got there eventually. Then, she shouldered her bag, stuffed her gun in the waistband of her pants, put her earbuds back in, and trekked down the road. If she was lucky, she might just be able to walk back to civilisation.
[April Stone, continued in the Eye of the Storm.]
This One Goes Out to the One I Left Behind
Open!
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Macha.
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Casey The Undead*
- Posts: 196
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 3:44 am
((Bluh took way too long with this, sorry))
Megan didn't think when the gunfire started.
Her legs locked almost immediately, and she felt her entire spine tighten with fear. She'd never heard gunfire before outside of television, but this wasn't a mistake, this was gunfire, and holy shit get out of the line of fire!
She buckled her knees, dropping flat onto her stomach and covering her head with her hands. Her breath was loud and hot in her ears, and it felt like her heart was about to explode out of her chest.
It feels like her heart's gonna explode out of her chest, it's the two minute warning, 3rd and goal, down by three, need a touchdown to win, the clock's ticking and-
TOUCHDOWN! That's it, that's game, we have a winner!! Bueno stardes, that's how you play football!
Megan curled her fingers into her hair, choking back a sob and blinking away the image of her parents leaping off the couch in joy. It was a stupid thing to think of, a useless thing, because this was different. It was a different adrenaline, a different heart rate, a different world.
Megan didn't want to think about the things she'd left behind, because it hurt worse than watching the katana plunge into Sally again and again and again.
After the gunfire stopped, Megan counted to fifteen four times. She looked up, slowly, uncovering her hands and-
Blood. So much fucking blood, again, only no katanas this time, no Nick, just gunfire and the girl with the gun-
The girl with the gun.
April.
"April," Megan croaked, halfway shocked and halfway disappointed for not seeing this coming (come on, how many movies have you seen where this is the exact scenario, trust the villain at the wrong time, that's the punchline, that's dramatic irony, god fucking damnit Megan you know how this shit works)
Megan pushed herself upright, glancing around frantically, not even thinking of the dead girl in front of her because there were so many more things to think about, all of them awful in their own right. "April," she repeated, calmly.
And then "April!" Megan was screaming, tearing at her hair furiously. "April! God fucking damnit April! God fucking damn you to your goddamned hellhole of a goddamned life! I hope you fucking rot you miserable bitch! I hope they stab you and watch the life bleed out of your eyes! I hope you fucking get it, I hope you hate dying, I hope you try with your last goddamned miserable killer breath to fight back and I hope you fail! You bitch! You goddamned bitch! I hope-" She drew in a shuddering breath, shoulders shaking with the effort. "I hope," she croaked out, a few notches quieter and just as frantic, "I hope it's me, I hope I do it, I hope I get to watch you die because you, you deserve-"
Megan's eyes caught the dead girl- Anna- and her words stopped short on a horrid sob. Her knees buckled again, and she clawed her fingers back through her hair. "No, I'm sorry," she whispered, voice strained and tear filled, "I don't hope, I don't, I don't know, what will they tell your parents, what will they tell mine, what will they tell-"
Anna's and Sally's and Nick's and Anthony's and Glenn's and mine and mine and yours and mine
Megan shuddered through a few more sobs, curling into herself.
She understood the math.
She was good at math. Math was a strong subject for Megan, always had been. And the math was simple. Add up all the bodies and killers and the guns and find the Least Common Denominator, and you were left with Megan curled up in a ball sobbing in a mall surrounded by corpses and bullet shells and nothing at all.
Megan buried her face in her hands and sobbed until her throat was sore.
Megan didn't think when the gunfire started.
Her legs locked almost immediately, and she felt her entire spine tighten with fear. She'd never heard gunfire before outside of television, but this wasn't a mistake, this was gunfire, and holy shit get out of the line of fire!
She buckled her knees, dropping flat onto her stomach and covering her head with her hands. Her breath was loud and hot in her ears, and it felt like her heart was about to explode out of her chest.
It feels like her heart's gonna explode out of her chest, it's the two minute warning, 3rd and goal, down by three, need a touchdown to win, the clock's ticking and-
TOUCHDOWN! That's it, that's game, we have a winner!! Bueno stardes, that's how you play football!
Megan curled her fingers into her hair, choking back a sob and blinking away the image of her parents leaping off the couch in joy. It was a stupid thing to think of, a useless thing, because this was different. It was a different adrenaline, a different heart rate, a different world.
Megan didn't want to think about the things she'd left behind, because it hurt worse than watching the katana plunge into Sally again and again and again.
After the gunfire stopped, Megan counted to fifteen four times. She looked up, slowly, uncovering her hands and-
Blood. So much fucking blood, again, only no katanas this time, no Nick, just gunfire and the girl with the gun-
The girl with the gun.
April.
"April," Megan croaked, halfway shocked and halfway disappointed for not seeing this coming (come on, how many movies have you seen where this is the exact scenario, trust the villain at the wrong time, that's the punchline, that's dramatic irony, god fucking damnit Megan you know how this shit works)
Megan pushed herself upright, glancing around frantically, not even thinking of the dead girl in front of her because there were so many more things to think about, all of them awful in their own right. "April," she repeated, calmly.
And then "April!" Megan was screaming, tearing at her hair furiously. "April! God fucking damnit April! God fucking damn you to your goddamned hellhole of a goddamned life! I hope you fucking rot you miserable bitch! I hope they stab you and watch the life bleed out of your eyes! I hope you fucking get it, I hope you hate dying, I hope you try with your last goddamned miserable killer breath to fight back and I hope you fail! You bitch! You goddamned bitch! I hope-" She drew in a shuddering breath, shoulders shaking with the effort. "I hope," she croaked out, a few notches quieter and just as frantic, "I hope it's me, I hope I do it, I hope I get to watch you die because you, you deserve-"
Megan's eyes caught the dead girl- Anna- and her words stopped short on a horrid sob. Her knees buckled again, and she clawed her fingers back through her hair. "No, I'm sorry," she whispered, voice strained and tear filled, "I don't hope, I don't, I don't know, what will they tell your parents, what will they tell mine, what will they tell-"
Anna's and Sally's and Nick's and Anthony's and Glenn's and mine and mine and yours and mine
Megan shuddered through a few more sobs, curling into herself.
She understood the math.
She was good at math. Math was a strong subject for Megan, always had been. And the math was simple. Add up all the bodies and killers and the guns and find the Least Common Denominator, and you were left with Megan curled up in a ball sobbing in a mall surrounded by corpses and bullet shells and nothing at all.
Megan buried her face in her hands and sobbed until her throat was sore.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Casey The Undead. 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: 1121
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:32 pm
- Location: I'm Pip!
- Team Affiliation: Stephanie's Buccaneers
Glen had fallen as soon as he’d burst into the shop, and he’d made no effort to pick himself back up. Lying on the cool, hard floor, Glen had no thoughts except for what had just happened. He’d been close, frighteningly close to getting shot. Getting actually fucking shot for fucking real. Somehow avoiding any serious damage, escaping into the shop, and…
And leaving Anna behind. He’d turned his back on her, abandoned her. She’d trusted him, and this was the thanks she got. Just like what Glen had been berating her about a few minutes previous. Glen could only hope against hope that by some miracle, Anna had escaped unscathed. Glen screwed his eyes shut, and waited in the silence. Waited for the sound of Anna’s voice telling Glen she was okay.
For a minute, there was almost complete silence. From close by, but what felt like miles away, Glen heard a steady drip-drip-drip sound, as if the mall had suddenly sprung a leak. From even further away, there was a metallic clink, then, after a few more seconds, footsteps. Nothing from Anna. And yet still Glen held out hope. She was just doing the same as he was; hiding and waiting until April had gone.
Then the screaming started, and Glen bolted upright, hand instantly tensed around the grip of the pistol. Was it April, swearing bloody murder on all of them? Or, god forbid, was it Anna, screaming for help? As Glen looked out of the busted shop door, however, he remembered that there was a third girl, a girl whose alliance has also been betrayed just a few seconds ago. And in front of her, a few feet away, was the prone body of Anna Kateridge, a pool of red spilling from under her visible even from where Glen was standing.
Slowly, Glen trudged out of the shop towards Anna. Every single word Megan was saying, Glen felt like repeating. And when Megan said she wanted to see April die, Glen’s only thought was Better get in line, then. He said nothing, however. He felt as if his he was in an almost paralyzed state of shock, and could do nothing but slowly walk towards Anna until he was finally standing over her.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. This wasn’t how it was supposed to fucking go at all. They were supposed to stick together, look after each other, and get off of this fucking island. But one tiny slip up, one brief moment of panic and betrayal and now Anna was lying dead on the floor in front of Glen. He tried telling himself that it was just bad fucking luck that this whole goddamn thing had happened in the first place, but an ever growing voice in the back of his head told him otherwise; It was his fault. He could have stayed, could have done something to protect Anna.
Glen wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve. He wasn’t fucking crying, fuck that shit. Just a little blurry was all. He made his way back inside the ransacked store. There had been a couple of old sheets lying in a corner, and Glen wanted one of them for Anna. He had no way of digging, no idea of where April was, and he didn’t want to accidentally drop Anna whilst taking her outside.
Glen grabbed on sheet, and tore a strip out of another, wrapping it tightly around the dull annoyance of his bleeding left arm. Walking back to the girls, Megan’s screams having died into sobs now, Glen took one last look at Anna, before carefully throwing the sheet over her. He stood, looking at the blanket covered body, listening to Megan’s sobs.
Then suddenly, Glen whirled round to face the empty shop front, grabbing the first thing that came to hand from the floor. A piece of glass, smaller than the shard he had in his pocket. Using all his strength, Glen hurled it at the shop, watching it shatter in tiny fragments. As soon as the first glass bead hit the ground, Glen picked up another shard, repeating the action, then picking up a third, and hurling them, over and over at the building.
Eventually, Glen stopped, breathing heavily. Megan seemed to have sobbed herself hoarse. Glen needed to escape this place. Every second spent inside the building was killing him more and more. He looked over at the hunched up figure of Megan.
“Hey. Megan. I’m getting out of here.” Glen said, voice low and angry. “Follow me, if you want. Or go your own way, I won’t blame you. Whatever. I just don’t fucking care anymore.” Glen turned, stole one last look at Anna’s covered body, and left.
Sorry Ben. Sorry Anna. Guess I’m on my own now.
((Glen Bole, continued in Hollow))
And leaving Anna behind. He’d turned his back on her, abandoned her. She’d trusted him, and this was the thanks she got. Just like what Glen had been berating her about a few minutes previous. Glen could only hope against hope that by some miracle, Anna had escaped unscathed. Glen screwed his eyes shut, and waited in the silence. Waited for the sound of Anna’s voice telling Glen she was okay.
For a minute, there was almost complete silence. From close by, but what felt like miles away, Glen heard a steady drip-drip-drip sound, as if the mall had suddenly sprung a leak. From even further away, there was a metallic clink, then, after a few more seconds, footsteps. Nothing from Anna. And yet still Glen held out hope. She was just doing the same as he was; hiding and waiting until April had gone.
Then the screaming started, and Glen bolted upright, hand instantly tensed around the grip of the pistol. Was it April, swearing bloody murder on all of them? Or, god forbid, was it Anna, screaming for help? As Glen looked out of the busted shop door, however, he remembered that there was a third girl, a girl whose alliance has also been betrayed just a few seconds ago. And in front of her, a few feet away, was the prone body of Anna Kateridge, a pool of red spilling from under her visible even from where Glen was standing.
Slowly, Glen trudged out of the shop towards Anna. Every single word Megan was saying, Glen felt like repeating. And when Megan said she wanted to see April die, Glen’s only thought was Better get in line, then. He said nothing, however. He felt as if his he was in an almost paralyzed state of shock, and could do nothing but slowly walk towards Anna until he was finally standing over her.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. This wasn’t how it was supposed to fucking go at all. They were supposed to stick together, look after each other, and get off of this fucking island. But one tiny slip up, one brief moment of panic and betrayal and now Anna was lying dead on the floor in front of Glen. He tried telling himself that it was just bad fucking luck that this whole goddamn thing had happened in the first place, but an ever growing voice in the back of his head told him otherwise; It was his fault. He could have stayed, could have done something to protect Anna.
Glen wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve. He wasn’t fucking crying, fuck that shit. Just a little blurry was all. He made his way back inside the ransacked store. There had been a couple of old sheets lying in a corner, and Glen wanted one of them for Anna. He had no way of digging, no idea of where April was, and he didn’t want to accidentally drop Anna whilst taking her outside.
Glen grabbed on sheet, and tore a strip out of another, wrapping it tightly around the dull annoyance of his bleeding left arm. Walking back to the girls, Megan’s screams having died into sobs now, Glen took one last look at Anna, before carefully throwing the sheet over her. He stood, looking at the blanket covered body, listening to Megan’s sobs.
Then suddenly, Glen whirled round to face the empty shop front, grabbing the first thing that came to hand from the floor. A piece of glass, smaller than the shard he had in his pocket. Using all his strength, Glen hurled it at the shop, watching it shatter in tiny fragments. As soon as the first glass bead hit the ground, Glen picked up another shard, repeating the action, then picking up a third, and hurling them, over and over at the building.
Eventually, Glen stopped, breathing heavily. Megan seemed to have sobbed herself hoarse. Glen needed to escape this place. Every second spent inside the building was killing him more and more. He looked over at the hunched up figure of Megan.
“Hey. Megan. I’m getting out of here.” Glen said, voice low and angry. “Follow me, if you want. Or go your own way, I won’t blame you. Whatever. I just don’t fucking care anymore.” Glen turned, stole one last look at Anna’s covered body, and left.
Sorry Ben. Sorry Anna. Guess I’m on my own now.
((Glen Bole, continued in Hollow))
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Casey The Undead*
- Posts: 196
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 3:44 am
Megan vaguely registered hearing Glenn leave, but didn't move after him. She needed a minute.
She tried to steady her breath, to mostly no avail. Weakly, she stood up, hands still clenched in her hair. She swallowed, shaking herself loose.
She wasn't entirely sure what she was going to do next, but there were way too many bodies in this mall for comfort. She thought about going after Glenn, but traveling with people hadn't worked out too well with her thus far. April would be a target- but what was Megan gonna do, suddenly become bulletproof and taze her to death?
With a sigh, Megan grabbed her stuff. "Sorry Anna. I shoulda warned you this place was cursed. Or I am, I guess." She shrugged a bit, staring at her feet.
She started her limping walk towards the exit, resolving to get some sleep- as far away from this place as humanly possible.
(Megan Jacobson continued in Hollow)
She tried to steady her breath, to mostly no avail. Weakly, she stood up, hands still clenched in her hair. She swallowed, shaking herself loose.
She wasn't entirely sure what she was going to do next, but there were way too many bodies in this mall for comfort. She thought about going after Glenn, but traveling with people hadn't worked out too well with her thus far. April would be a target- but what was Megan gonna do, suddenly become bulletproof and taze her to death?
With a sigh, Megan grabbed her stuff. "Sorry Anna. I shoulda warned you this place was cursed. Or I am, I guess." She shrugged a bit, staring at her feet.
She started her limping walk towards the exit, resolving to get some sleep- as far away from this place as humanly possible.
(Megan Jacobson continued in Hollow)
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Casey The Undead. 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.