This Confession Has Meant Nothing

[ItzToxie]

Another camera view.





A seagull pecked at the lens curiously.

[ItzToxie]

The shotgun blast scattered wide, pellets peppered the bulkhead next to Ivan, but missing him entirely.



Fisk fell to his knees as tenga fell from his mutilated fingers, the axe resting just inches away from where it struck his hand. His eyelid twitched. His face was frozen in a silent scream. With one arm immobilized, and one hand mangled beyond repair, there was nothing more he could do.

He was helpless. He was rendered harmless by being rendered armless, and now here he was, knelt down, crouched over his mangled hand, in too much shock to even scream.

Fisk Bateman lost.

Shaking, he slowly looked up to find Ivan standing, looming over him.


~Every time I see you falling
I get down on my knees and pray
I'm waiting for that final moment
You'll say the words that I can't say~

[carduinal-cyn]

Olivia was soaked. Not the "had-fun-getting-Fisk-to-suck-on-a-gun-barrel" kind of soaked, the kind that seeped through her skin and made the wounds underneath surge with newfound pain. Her grip was gone, and her heart nearly stopped once she heard the fateful blast. She struggled to her feet in silence. Her hair was a curtain dripping into her eyes; she lifted her hands and squeezed the wet strands with everything she had. Her feet slipped a little.

Peering through a veil of wet hair, Liv expected to see the scene of a bloody massacre. Instead, all she saw was Fisk, more frightened than ever before.

[The Honeless Beard]

Ivan slowly released the tension in his body, hand over his face, leg raised up, curling in on himself. For a moment - for a brief sliver of time, Ivan had seen the world flash before him.

Now, all he saw was Fisk and a shaking, trembling red.

Ivan wordlessly snagged the hose from the floor and slammed his bare foot into Fisk's chest, wrapping his fist around the nozzle. As Fisk fell earthwards, Ivan stepped closer, bending close to Fisk and settling in with a grimace on his features.

His first strike with the hose nozzle hit Fisk in the teeth.

[ItzToxie]

This…

This wasn’t right. It was incomprehensible, inconceivable. No matter how stacked the cards get, this bastard, this mutant, this FREAK survives it all! What sort of- what sort of sick-

Ivan kicked Fisk to the floor.

He glanced around for anything that could help him now, reaching out for the empty tenga before he’d realized he didn’t have the thumb to hold it, nor the half of his index finger he needed to pull the trigger.

He glanced up long enough to get bashed in the jaw with the nozzle of a firehose. His head rocked to the side as he saw stars.

[Applesintime]

“Get fucked.”

Having pushed himself up enough to start walking again, his chest throbbed with every step. Anthony thought, absentmindedly, that he might have broken a rip. Taking unsteady steps towards Fisk, he glanced up at Ivan, before picking his axe back up.

“Want me to finish him? Won’t be quick.”

[Namira]

"Just end it."

It came from Olivia's collar.

"Let everyone forget about him."

[ItzToxie]

There was a weak laugh coming from Fisk.


"... Lookit you, so fucking brave from behind the cameras."

Emmy was wrong. Nobody would forget him. The Respects. He'd made sure of that, even if he dies here. He was the closest anyone had ever gone to a team win, to beating the game on his own rules. Only thing stopping him was this fuckin' beast fed on some steady diet of adrenaline, painkillers, and steroids. Wasn't nothing to be proud of, they'd all shown their hand when Fisk put his cards on the table. Couldn't win, so they cheated. Once he's gone, they'll tear each other apart...


"You're wrong... They'll remember my name, even long after you're gone. After you're all gone..."

He lost, but he was the moral victor. The Respects are immortalized. No traitors, never broken. Their bond outlasted this damned game, despite their physical results.

There was nothing, NOTHING anyone could do to take that away from him, to besmirch his name. Fisk Bateman would die, compared to these crabs hiding in their buckets, he'd die a saint. The Patron Saint of firebrands, the leader of the Respects. He was the first, and everything that followed after is only a pale imitation.

[Applesintime]

“Emmy? What the fuck are you doing- are you a fucking mentor?”

[carduinal-cyn]

Just end it. Let everyone forget about him.

The voice sounded out from Olivia's collar as Liv staggered across the ground. Her teeth were grit. Each new droplet of water seemed to aggravate the cuts on her legs all over again, to say nothing of the pulsating hole in her shoulder. But pain no longer mattered. She needed Tenga.

Anthony was distracted. Fisk was a dead man. Ivan wouldn't protest.

Half-drowned, half-disoriented, she lurched forward and dove for the shotgun.

[The Honeless Beard]

Ivan slammed the nozzle again into Fisk's teeth, trying to shut him the fuck up. A second slam with his fist, and he felt some of them break inwards, chipping at his fingers, nicks and cuts along his skin.

Then, he twisted the nozzle around, pressing it point forwards into Fisk's mouth, pressing one knee on his chest to keep him down.

"You've always been full of it," Ivan snarled.

[ItzToxie]

Yeah, Fisk knew he was dying. The second he'd lost the use of his good hand, the second the shotgun blast went wild, the second that FUCKING TROGLODYTE SMOOTH BRAINED CAVEMAN Anthony threw that axe, Fisk knew he was doomed. So was Anthony to be fair. Moron. Braindead British Bastard. Blurry vision tried to focus on his surroundings, Ivan braining him, Emmy's failed attempt at talking shit, Olivia going for the -it's empty you stupid fucking moron- shotgun to blow away Anthony, he couldn't help but, fuck what's the word? Savor the irony of the moment.

He'd united his friends to take control of the game through their own- OW you bitch!- means, and everything was going well. Then, the producers, and the mentors, and everyone behind the scenes had un- ow- united to take his crew out, because they'd chosen to take- oh that loosened some teeth- their top pay piggy choice first. And now here they were; Ivan had united with some other piss drinking, smooth brained, low life scum to snuff him out. All for him, all for Fisk. Seems like- "hnk!"- seem's like he's got a habit of doing that, uniting people to bend the rules a bit. You'd be blind if you couldn't see it. Even in his death he was proven right! Isn't that- oh wow the world's going all swirly now- funny the way it turns out? He did this...

He did it all.

Didn't change that he lost, but the principle was that he was right, he was justified, he was true. No pretense here, and if he met his end by getting beaten to death with a firehose, so be it, there's worse ways to go, he should know considering how many he'd done to other people. Fucking Ivan, fucking idiot, didn't even know to aim for his head, he was aiming for his mouth! That's not how you beat someone to death, you'd figure after all this time you'd learn you big dumb stupid meathead bastard. This changes nothing, I saw you curl up! I scared the shit out of you, you fucking weasel, big fucking hero! I'll take my death in stride, while you cowered over a shotgun blast! Let's see them make a hero edit of you now you coward bitch. You screamed and cried when we trussed you up, and you screamed and cried when I almost executed you. Even if it's edited out, there's always the livestreams, the original copies!

The beating slowed, and Fisk allowed himself to go limp. He wouldn't bother with the last goodbyes, he said enough a million times over. He just had to listen to music and go numb. Yeah. Don't think about it, don't fear. Think of the good times. Think of wrecking Stoke's shop, or kicking in Junji's head. Frying Anthony, or carving F's into Ivan. Shanking Seth with Vasily, or the pool party. Yeah. You'd get to see your friends again, all the Respects- hah, didn't even feel that one!- Giselle, Keegan, James, Bacchia, Sofia, Mandy, Vasily, hell even Verity! They all did their best, and Ivan couldn't tear them apart in the end; they'd be remembered. All of them.

Another punch broke through his teeth, and Fisk smiled deliriously, defiantly back at Ivan before- "GNK!" He tasted cold wet metal. He couldn't breath, he was choking- Wait.

He heard what Ivan had said; moreover the implications.

His eyes widened. Getting beaten to death was now the least of his worries.

[Applesintime]

Still holding the axe, Anthony got down on one knee as Fisk got the shit beaten out of him. It was wonderful to see him finally brought low. Soon he’d be dead.

“You will burn.” Anthony whispered, a faint smirk crossing his lips at the sight of Fisk’s eyes widening before drawing back his fist and planting it firmly in the fucker’s stomach.

[The Honeless Beard]

Ivan held onto the hose in a shaking fist, keeping it close to Fisk's mouth, shoving it deeper and deeper, past his tonsils, down his throat until he could watch Fisk's eyes go from defiant to fearful to understanding.

When he reached it, Ivan grinned through bloodied teeth and turned the hose on, pushed his face close to Fisk's.

Watched.

[ItzToxie]

No.