William relaxed a bit as the veneer of diplomacy totally fell away, leaving Leonard to virtually pulsate from spite. That was fine, the sooner he got going, the better. There was something about this kid that William didn't ca-
"Augh!"
He didn't see the first ruler swipe coming, though he'd been looking directly at him. The world on his right side lit up in an explosion of stars and pain, and he recoiled as the metallic side of the ruler drew blood from his face. Momentarily stunned, he felt the second attack hit the side of his head as his hand came up to shield his face from any further blows. His hand caught the full force from the third attack, and the stinging in his hand caused him to instinctively step back, stumbling backwards onto the couch.
"What the hell, man!"
Bringing his hand to rest around the shotgun, Willy felt the hot fire of a new wound on his hand. His eye was blurry and something seemed to be slowly getting into it, but he could still see Leonard, and his makeshift weapon coming for him. The girl on the couch didn't move as he leaned up against her, but she was undoubtedly not going to be any help in this little confrontation. Shrugging his shoulders, he tried to gesture towards Leonard with the business-end of the shotgun.
"Come on, Leonard! What the fuck is wrong with you!?"
You Ain't Seen Nothin' Yet
Phase 1 (0-12 Hours), Open for business.
Leonard rained blows upon the other boy with his ruler. It was weak, but he compensated for it with the ferocity of his strikes. He felt empowered when he saw the edge draw blood, and he kept on swinging.He was fully on the offensive, and he had successfully forced his adversary into a corner. His pathetically fetal attempt at defending himself could only go on for so long, and Leonard was more than ready to keep pushing until he could steal away the shotgun.
Wait, no!
The other boy went for the gun, and Leonard panicked. This wasn't the way it was supposed to go! The other boy was supposed to be cowed to the point that Leonard could easily pinch the weapon from him! This was entirely wrong! Not only did he need the gun, but he needed the other boy to not have the gun, especially when he was in a position where he could use it!
Leonard grabbed the hefty firearm and tried to wrench it out of the other boy's hands. He jerked it around randomly, hoping to break his rival's grip. It was all coming down to a struggle for dominance, and Leonard was determined to win. He gritted his teeth and started shouting while he tried to relieve his opponent of his weapon.
"Give it to me!"
Wait, no!
The other boy went for the gun, and Leonard panicked. This wasn't the way it was supposed to go! The other boy was supposed to be cowed to the point that Leonard could easily pinch the weapon from him! This was entirely wrong! Not only did he need the gun, but he needed the other boy to not have the gun, especially when he was in a position where he could use it!
Leonard grabbed the hefty firearm and tried to wrench it out of the other boy's hands. He jerked it around randomly, hoping to break his rival's grip. It was all coming down to a struggle for dominance, and Leonard was determined to win. He gritted his teeth and started shouting while he tried to relieve his opponent of his weapon.
"Give it to me!"
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Cactus
- Posts: 295
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
- Location: Toronto, Canada
- Team Affiliation: Malcolm's Mariners
As he felt the tug of war over the loaded weapon that he held in front of him, Willy knew that he was at a supreme disadvantage. Feeling himself sink a bit into the couch, Leonard held the upper hand. He had the high ground, and as he felt the shotgun slowly get wrenched out of his hands, panic started to flood into his whole body. He could feel the hairs on his arms standing up on end as his adrenaline started to pump.
This was all for the shotgun. All of it. William saw that now. Not that he'd thought very much of the kid he struggled with, but the whole enterprise had been over obtaining the weapon that he had drawn at the beginning of the game. As far as Leonard was concerned, Willy was; much like the girl on the sofa, a lost cause.
Hopeless.
That pissed him off. Who the hell was this pompous ass to think that he could dictate the ending to William's own story? The whole thing felt offensive to him, and the anger that erupted gave him a newfound strength to wrench the gun back towards him, digging his feet into the ground and leaning back, feeling the limp form of the girl pressing against his back. Here he was, in mortal combat over a weapon, and all because he'd refused to sell this poor girl out.
"Fuck you!"
William wrenched back again with his hands, the sweat on his palms causing his right hand to slip back. As it did, his finger slid by a circular, metallic part of the weapon, and as he adjusted his hand to try and get a better grasp, his middle finger found itself impeded by a metallic trigger. Barely conscious of the intent, William pulled the weapon back towards himself.
The shotgun discharged, kicking back into William's ribs and knocking the wind from the boy, stars filling his vision as he gasped for air.
This was all for the shotgun. All of it. William saw that now. Not that he'd thought very much of the kid he struggled with, but the whole enterprise had been over obtaining the weapon that he had drawn at the beginning of the game. As far as Leonard was concerned, Willy was; much like the girl on the sofa, a lost cause.
Hopeless.
That pissed him off. Who the hell was this pompous ass to think that he could dictate the ending to William's own story? The whole thing felt offensive to him, and the anger that erupted gave him a newfound strength to wrench the gun back towards him, digging his feet into the ground and leaning back, feeling the limp form of the girl pressing against his back. Here he was, in mortal combat over a weapon, and all because he'd refused to sell this poor girl out.
"Fuck you!"
William wrenched back again with his hands, the sweat on his palms causing his right hand to slip back. As it did, his finger slid by a circular, metallic part of the weapon, and as he adjusted his hand to try and get a better grasp, his middle finger found itself impeded by a metallic trigger. Barely conscious of the intent, William pulled the weapon back towards himself.
The shotgun discharged, kicking back into William's ribs and knocking the wind from the boy, stars filling his vision as he gasped for air.
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Cactus
- Posts: 295
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
- Location: Toronto, Canada
- Team Affiliation: Malcolm's Mariners
Sudden pressure. That couldn't have been good. Or could it?
The sounds kept going on, but... Something else was happening.
((Kathryn "Kate" Sanderson has finally stopped being a prisoner of her concussion and might actually feel like a Zombie once she regains consciousness.))
That sound was enough to join mind and body into one once more; it was enough to wake the dead.
Kate didn't move, still unconscious.
Hard to tell.
The sounds kept going on, but... Something else was happening.
CHOOM
What's a choom?
((Kathryn "Kate" Sanderson has finally stopped being a prisoner of her concussion and might actually feel like a Zombie once she regains consciousness.))
That sound was enough to join mind and body into one once more; it was enough to wake the dead.
Kate didn't move, still unconscious.
Leonard thought that he had the advantage. He thought that he was winning.
The blast that overtook all other noise in the room proved him wrong.
Leonard was knocked backward from the impact and fell flat on his back. He couldn't find words to describe the pain that wracked his body. His chest felt like it had the hot burner of a stove lying on top of it, with the weight of the full stove behind it. Everything felt wet too, like he had dipped his torso into a pool. He managed to tilt his head down to look at what had happened, to him, and the sight made him want to vomit.
There was a hole in his chest, red with blood, meat, and exposed muscle. The blast from the shotgun had either incinerated or simply blown away a sizable amount of flesh, and in its place was the burning sensation that came from his body no longer being protected from the elements. The residue of the shot kept his fresh wounds in a state of perpetual irritation, as he wasn't quite sure of the full effects that a point-blank shotgun blast had on the human body. That was only exacerbated by the feeling of the air blowing over his broken form. Yet somehow, despite the grievous harm that had been done to him, he wasn't dead. He certainly felt like he should have been, but somehow he had survived.
But dead or not, he was pissed.
He braced his hands against the ground and exerted all of the strength that he could find to lift himself upright as his blood leaked out of his chest at an alarming rate. He stared at the other boy with a furious hatred and had the most vicious speech prepared for him.
You idiot! You fucking idiot! Do you even know what you've done? Do you really think that you're going to get away with doing this to the son of a sergeant? You are dead, do you hear me? You are never going to get out of here alive, do you hear me? I will see to it that you die slowly and painfully! You and that comatose bitch! I am going to kill you... whoever the fuck you are!
Although Leonard's mind was raging, his mouth failed to articulate what he wanted to convey. All he could manage was sputtering a few scattered words and word fragments while coughing up bile. And before he could become any more coherent, he lost all strength and flopped face-first onto the floor. His thirst for vengeance would remain unfulfilled.
The blast that overtook all other noise in the room proved him wrong.
Leonard was knocked backward from the impact and fell flat on his back. He couldn't find words to describe the pain that wracked his body. His chest felt like it had the hot burner of a stove lying on top of it, with the weight of the full stove behind it. Everything felt wet too, like he had dipped his torso into a pool. He managed to tilt his head down to look at what had happened, to him, and the sight made him want to vomit.
There was a hole in his chest, red with blood, meat, and exposed muscle. The blast from the shotgun had either incinerated or simply blown away a sizable amount of flesh, and in its place was the burning sensation that came from his body no longer being protected from the elements. The residue of the shot kept his fresh wounds in a state of perpetual irritation, as he wasn't quite sure of the full effects that a point-blank shotgun blast had on the human body. That was only exacerbated by the feeling of the air blowing over his broken form. Yet somehow, despite the grievous harm that had been done to him, he wasn't dead. He certainly felt like he should have been, but somehow he had survived.
But dead or not, he was pissed.
He braced his hands against the ground and exerted all of the strength that he could find to lift himself upright as his blood leaked out of his chest at an alarming rate. He stared at the other boy with a furious hatred and had the most vicious speech prepared for him.
You idiot! You fucking idiot! Do you even know what you've done? Do you really think that you're going to get away with doing this to the son of a sergeant? You are dead, do you hear me? You are never going to get out of here alive, do you hear me? I will see to it that you die slowly and painfully! You and that comatose bitch! I am going to kill you... whoever the fuck you are!
Although Leonard's mind was raging, his mouth failed to articulate what he wanted to convey. All he could manage was sputtering a few scattered words and word fragments while coughing up bile. And before he could become any more coherent, he lost all strength and flopped face-first onto the floor. His thirst for vengeance would remain unfulfilled.
Leonard Roycewood: Deceased
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Cactus
- Posts: 295
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
- Location: Toronto, Canada
- Team Affiliation: Malcolm's Mariners
As William Apgar gasped for breath, his ears ringing from the force of the shotgun blast, he let the weapon's end fall to the floor with a muted thud. The shotgun had seemed to suck all of the sound out of the room, and all that remained was a strange wheezing noise that he couldn't quite place. His right eye was blurred and stung, as did his hand. The adrenaline was starting to subside, and the sting in his ribs from where the shotgun had kicked back was a reminder that while the encounter had been frightful and intense, he still held on to the one thing that was most important - his life.
It suddenly occurred to him that the wheezing sound was actually coming from Willy himself. Leonard hadn't made much of a sound after he'd gurgled and collapsed face-down on the floor. His mind a haze, he let the shotgun clatter to the laminate floor and wiped his eye, the fresh cut on his face stinging as he tried to clear the blood and tears from the area, to regain vision. Relief flooded his body as he confirmed that he was still able to see.
Stung like a bitch though.
As air once again filled his lungs at a proper breathing pace, William realized that he was still basically sitting on the unconscious girl on the couch. Jumping to his feet, he turned around to look at her. She was half-stuffed into the crevice in the couch, but still hadn't moved a muscle. She lay, unconscious, blissfully unaware of the events that had just befallen this small house. Unaware of the murder that had just occurred.
The murder.
That he, William Apgar, had committed.
His eyes slowly crept upon the body of Leonard Roycewood, face-down, with a pool of blood spreading around him.
You did that, Willy. In self-defense, sure, but... you did that.
"Oh... oh no."
This was all a little bit too much. Between the comatose girl on the couch whom he'd discovered essentially wearing the flayed-out corpse of Larry Rosenberg as a blanket, and the newly ventilated corpse of Leonard Roycewood laying on the floor in front of him, the gravity of the situation rushed up and slapped William Apgar squarely in the face. This was real; the Program was terrifyingly real, and no matter what happened now, both William and the mystery girl were victims - and perpetrators, of the horrors it had in store for those within it.
Mitch wouldn't have to go through this.
With that thought, Willy slowly slunk down the side of the couch once more, the strength sapped from his legs. His eyes never leaving Leonard's body, his breath became short and heavy.
At least Mitch was safe.
It was a small consolation. But instead of making Willy feel better, he felt even worse. The cool exterior that he had practiced and developed over years of high school fell away, the shields went down, and then William Apgar did something that he hadn't done since he was a small child.
He covered his eyes and started to cry.
Nothing would ever be the same again.
((William Apgar and Kate Sanderson are continued in a biggie.))
It suddenly occurred to him that the wheezing sound was actually coming from Willy himself. Leonard hadn't made much of a sound after he'd gurgled and collapsed face-down on the floor. His mind a haze, he let the shotgun clatter to the laminate floor and wiped his eye, the fresh cut on his face stinging as he tried to clear the blood and tears from the area, to regain vision. Relief flooded his body as he confirmed that he was still able to see.
Stung like a bitch though.
As air once again filled his lungs at a proper breathing pace, William realized that he was still basically sitting on the unconscious girl on the couch. Jumping to his feet, he turned around to look at her. She was half-stuffed into the crevice in the couch, but still hadn't moved a muscle. She lay, unconscious, blissfully unaware of the events that had just befallen this small house. Unaware of the murder that had just occurred.
The murder.
That he, William Apgar, had committed.
His eyes slowly crept upon the body of Leonard Roycewood, face-down, with a pool of blood spreading around him.
You did that, Willy. In self-defense, sure, but... you did that.
"Oh... oh no."
This was all a little bit too much. Between the comatose girl on the couch whom he'd discovered essentially wearing the flayed-out corpse of Larry Rosenberg as a blanket, and the newly ventilated corpse of Leonard Roycewood laying on the floor in front of him, the gravity of the situation rushed up and slapped William Apgar squarely in the face. This was real; the Program was terrifyingly real, and no matter what happened now, both William and the mystery girl were victims - and perpetrators, of the horrors it had in store for those within it.
Mitch wouldn't have to go through this.
With that thought, Willy slowly slunk down the side of the couch once more, the strength sapped from his legs. His eyes never leaving Leonard's body, his breath became short and heavy.
At least Mitch was safe.
It was a small consolation. But instead of making Willy feel better, he felt even worse. The cool exterior that he had practiced and developed over years of high school fell away, the shields went down, and then William Apgar did something that he hadn't done since he was a small child.
He covered his eyes and started to cry.
Nothing would ever be the same again.
((William Apgar and Kate Sanderson are continued in a biggie.))