And just like that, Dale went down.
Dale went down, splashing into the water. And Junji had been looking at her the entire time. Mary felt herself choke, like something was caught in her throat. Her heart pounded in warning. It was only a second ago she was insulting Junji and talking about silly musicals about talking plants. But now? Now.... now...
No.
No.
She did the first thing that came to mind. She ran torward, and swung the oar.
The Arrow in Your Heart
OPEN - Night 2, 10 pm
The air was pounding with the excitement of a brawl. Junji had been on the receiving end of those many times, when his mouth had ran too far and a jock fuck had lost their temper. He had initiated these scenes in the past, intentionally or not, but this time was quite different.
It was much, much more exciting.
Some random bitch appeared out of nowhere and charged Rebecca. Before he could intervene, because why would you be so fucking stupid as to present yourself when a gun had made itself plainly known, Mary decided to do the same. Stupid bitches x2 combo.
He would’ve pointed the gun and blown Mary’s head off too, but there wasn’t enough time. The gun lingered on her a second too long without firing, his finger hovering, and he reflexively winced behind his arms to block the oar. It hit him hard, much harder than he realised an oar could hit, and threw him off balance. The gun clattered backwards out of his aching hand, landing somewhere behind himself and Rebecca, but neither of them were in a position to grab at it.
“Fucking cunt!” he shouted back as he steadied himself. Now his arms ached, and it was causing the pain from when he had stabbed Cristo to flare back up. This was always the not so fun part of brawls.
The difference between a brawl in the hallway and a fight on SOTF-TV, however, was that the latter lacked any laws or risks of punishment. That, and it had more knives.
Junji pulled out his, and lumbered forward to use it on Mary's face.
It was much, much more exciting.
Some random bitch appeared out of nowhere and charged Rebecca. Before he could intervene, because why would you be so fucking stupid as to present yourself when a gun had made itself plainly known, Mary decided to do the same. Stupid bitches x2 combo.
He would’ve pointed the gun and blown Mary’s head off too, but there wasn’t enough time. The gun lingered on her a second too long without firing, his finger hovering, and he reflexively winced behind his arms to block the oar. It hit him hard, much harder than he realised an oar could hit, and threw him off balance. The gun clattered backwards out of his aching hand, landing somewhere behind himself and Rebecca, but neither of them were in a position to grab at it.
“Fucking cunt!” he shouted back as he steadied himself. Now his arms ached, and it was causing the pain from when he had stabbed Cristo to flare back up. This was always the not so fun part of brawls.
The difference between a brawl in the hallway and a fight on SOTF-TV, however, was that the latter lacked any laws or risks of punishment. That, and it had more knives.
Junji pulled out his, and lumbered forward to use it on Mary's face.
This is what regret feels like, huh.
To be fair, she didn’t expect to see her again. That girl. Turning back would be a horrifically bad strategy, to say the least. The momentum was already carrying her to the group. Her hair blew into her face and she didn’t care. She just didn’t want to get shot in the back.
(it kind of occurred to her that she went through way too many traumatic, life-or-death situations in a day. Not anything out of the ordinary for Survival of the Fittest, of course, but it all depended on whether or not she was the aggressor. And she never was. Statistically, she-)
She reached her free hand out to grab her opponent’s wrist, or hand, or even just the flashlight, with an intention to break and twist. Leah was behind her, a shield made of a body in front of her. Just in case Junji got lucky.
(Statistically, she should be dead by now, shouldn’t she?)
Masochism was not one of Leah's many traits, as much as it looked like it was because of the sheer dumb shit she's done.
Neither was wisdom, in her mind.
But there was this sort of happiness within her when the flashlight found its home cracking against her skin. Like she deserved it. Like finally, she could stop worrying about what she could face and what she was facing right now. No masks to hide behind. Just the raw desire to hurt. Just like when she wrapped her fingers around Gregory's throat as his hands squeezed the air out of her's.
Nobody would get out of this fight the same again, if they got out at all. It would be a part of them- something they'll never forget. The tender skin on her cheek blossomed in purple and yellow and colors her skin shouldn't be. She stumbled back one step. Her fingers were right there, now- right above Rebecca's shoulder. It felt like her's to grab, and she closed her hand, hoping for purchase, so she could drag the girl down with her.
Distantly, the screams felt like background music.
A gun was nothing without a finger to fire it, but a finger-
her finger-
Still broken. Felt broken. Popped. Cracked. Didn't care. Everything else in the hand still held on to the metal as it swung sideways and upwards at the other's body.
To be fair, she didn’t expect to see her again. That girl. Turning back would be a horrifically bad strategy, to say the least. The momentum was already carrying her to the group. Her hair blew into her face and she didn’t care. She just didn’t want to get shot in the back.
(it kind of occurred to her that she went through way too many traumatic, life-or-death situations in a day. Not anything out of the ordinary for Survival of the Fittest, of course, but it all depended on whether or not she was the aggressor. And she never was. Statistically, she-)
She reached her free hand out to grab her opponent’s wrist, or hand, or even just the flashlight, with an intention to break and twist. Leah was behind her, a shield made of a body in front of her. Just in case Junji got lucky.
(Statistically, she should be dead by now, shouldn’t she?)
Masochism was not one of Leah's many traits, as much as it looked like it was because of the sheer dumb shit she's done.
Neither was wisdom, in her mind.
But there was this sort of happiness within her when the flashlight found its home cracking against her skin. Like she deserved it. Like finally, she could stop worrying about what she could face and what she was facing right now. No masks to hide behind. Just the raw desire to hurt. Just like when she wrapped her fingers around Gregory's throat as his hands squeezed the air out of her's.
Nobody would get out of this fight the same again, if they got out at all. It would be a part of them- something they'll never forget. The tender skin on her cheek blossomed in purple and yellow and colors her skin shouldn't be. She stumbled back one step. Her fingers were right there, now- right above Rebecca's shoulder. It felt like her's to grab, and she closed her hand, hoping for purchase, so she could drag the girl down with her.
Distantly, the screams felt like background music.
A gun was nothing without a finger to fire it, but a finger-
her finger-
Still broken. Felt broken. Popped. Cracked. Didn't care. Everything else in the hand still held on to the metal as it swung sideways and upwards at the other's body.
Rebecca had never really been hurt before. All the injuries she’d had in her life had been relatively minor: cuts on her fingers, scraped knees, and the like. Up until this moment, the worst pain she’d ever experienced was Akeno elbowing her in the chest, and even that she could tolerate, to a degree. In the back of her mind, she’d known that she would get hurt on SOTF—few winners got through the game unscathed, after all. Rebecca thought she was prepared for it.
But nothing could have prepared her for the dart swinging up into her jaw.
Her head snapped back from the force. She saw stars as the pain rattled throughout her entire skull. Even though her jaw wasn’t broken, for a split second, Rebecca could’ve sworn it was. A loud, half-strangled yelp slipped through her clattering teeth as she stumbled backwards. Another minor jolt of pain echoed through her body as her side slammed into the railing, vision blurring.
Rebecca’s mind was racing, immediately thinking of counter attacks: she could tackle the girl or throw the flashlight or kick out her kneecap or do something. For now, though, all she could do was steady herself against the railing to keep herself from crumpling to the deck.
In this very moment, she felt weak.
But nothing could have prepared her for the dart swinging up into her jaw.
Her head snapped back from the force. She saw stars as the pain rattled throughout her entire skull. Even though her jaw wasn’t broken, for a split second, Rebecca could’ve sworn it was. A loud, half-strangled yelp slipped through her clattering teeth as she stumbled backwards. Another minor jolt of pain echoed through her body as her side slammed into the railing, vision blurring.
Rebecca’s mind was racing, immediately thinking of counter attacks: she could tackle the girl or throw the flashlight or kick out her kneecap or do something. For now, though, all she could do was steady herself against the railing to keep herself from crumpling to the deck.
In this very moment, she felt weak.
Junji swung.
Mary swung too.
She felt herself moving the oar towards his arm. But she also felt a wet stinging sensation across her cheekbone and heard him curse. Cursing her.
Mary stepped back. Steadied herself. Tried to not focus on the damage, tried to not think--
She screamed. Went for another swing towards his head.
Anything to get him away.
Mary swung too.
She felt herself moving the oar towards his arm. But she also felt a wet stinging sensation across her cheekbone and heard him curse. Cursing her.
Mary stepped back. Steadied herself. Tried to not focus on the damage, tried to not think--
She screamed. Went for another swing towards his head.
Anything to get him away.
Mary was one crazy-ass bitch.
He could see the blood on her face, just like with Cassini the day before. So much nostalgia in so little time. But there was no time to even process that he’d got a hit in, because Mary just kept coming at him.
Junji brought his arms up to brace the blow again, taking the full force of the impact. He staggered again. It stung like a bitch again. Rinse and repeat. He scowled, from pain and frustration. He wasn’t sure he could keep taking hits like that. He was already feeling his heavy chest start to heave. He was wearing out too quickly.
But he still had his knife. He was still bigger than Mary. He was still the better player. He just needed to get one hit in. He just needed one good stab through the eyeball, and Mary would be down for the count. He just needed her to stop getting in his way for two seconds, so he could play his part in the spectacle of SOTF-TV and get what had been coming for him all these years.
He lumbered towards her, ready to use the knife on her face. Rinse and repeat.
He could see the blood on her face, just like with Cassini the day before. So much nostalgia in so little time. But there was no time to even process that he’d got a hit in, because Mary just kept coming at him.
Junji brought his arms up to brace the blow again, taking the full force of the impact. He staggered again. It stung like a bitch again. Rinse and repeat. He scowled, from pain and frustration. He wasn’t sure he could keep taking hits like that. He was already feeling his heavy chest start to heave. He was wearing out too quickly.
But he still had his knife. He was still bigger than Mary. He was still the better player. He just needed to get one hit in. He just needed one good stab through the eyeball, and Mary would be down for the count. He just needed her to stop getting in his way for two seconds, so he could play his part in the spectacle of SOTF-TV and get what had been coming for him all these years.
He lumbered towards her, ready to use the knife on her face. Rinse and repeat.
Dale finally surfaced and gasped for air. He was feeling wet and cold, and his eyes stung from the salt water. He put his hands to the boat and moved along it. He could hear some scuffling from the boat, but he ignored it. He just had to get out of the water before he became shark food.
It was dark, and Dale had fallen away from the jetties. He swam along the edge of the boat facing into the flotilla. There had to be a ladder or something so he could climb back up to the ship, get to the jetty, and run away from this shit show. He had dealt with enough drama today, and he was content to get away from it.
Dale soon found a ladder near the back of the rocket boat and quickly climbed up it, his wet bag slapping against him. He finally was able to get some momentary rest on the deck and took some time to breathe.
That's when he saw Rebecca get decked in the face by another girl. He didn't care who the other girl was, she was clearly not on Team Rebecca and Junji. It sounded like Junji was off fighting Mary.
But Dale focused on Rebecca, who was resting against the railing. It was all her fault. That fake bitch signaled to Junji to shoot at Dale, and that almost got Dale killed. Dale already loathed Junji, but right now, it was Rebecca who was the focus of his ire
In that moment, Dale wasn't thinking at all about his appearance, his reputation, or his future. All he felt was anger and hatred towards Rebecca. To everyone who put him in this game and made the last two days hell for him. He had spent enough time just hiding or running from people. Maybe it was foolish, but he had to let off some steam.
Dale unwrapped the bandanna chain from around his throat and held it out in front of him like an upside down U. He hurried over to Rebecca, and before she could react, he threw the bandanna around her neck, crossed the chain, and began to pull tight.
"Thought you could pull one over on me?" he hissed at Rebecca, pulling her close to him and tightening the chain.
They were starting to move towards the back of the ship, near where Dale climbed back onto the ship.
"Thought you could send your 800 pound incel fuckhead to do your dirty work for you? Well bad news, Becky. I'm not going to be some filler contestant here. That's your role. And you? You're going to be a footnote in my legacy."
Dale pulled tighter. He had never been this violent before, nor had he felt this much hatred towards another person. But Rebecca clearly wanted a fight, and Dale was willing to give it to her.
It was dark, and Dale had fallen away from the jetties. He swam along the edge of the boat facing into the flotilla. There had to be a ladder or something so he could climb back up to the ship, get to the jetty, and run away from this shit show. He had dealt with enough drama today, and he was content to get away from it.
Dale soon found a ladder near the back of the rocket boat and quickly climbed up it, his wet bag slapping against him. He finally was able to get some momentary rest on the deck and took some time to breathe.
That's when he saw Rebecca get decked in the face by another girl. He didn't care who the other girl was, she was clearly not on Team Rebecca and Junji. It sounded like Junji was off fighting Mary.
But Dale focused on Rebecca, who was resting against the railing. It was all her fault. That fake bitch signaled to Junji to shoot at Dale, and that almost got Dale killed. Dale already loathed Junji, but right now, it was Rebecca who was the focus of his ire
In that moment, Dale wasn't thinking at all about his appearance, his reputation, or his future. All he felt was anger and hatred towards Rebecca. To everyone who put him in this game and made the last two days hell for him. He had spent enough time just hiding or running from people. Maybe it was foolish, but he had to let off some steam.
Dale unwrapped the bandanna chain from around his throat and held it out in front of him like an upside down U. He hurried over to Rebecca, and before she could react, he threw the bandanna around her neck, crossed the chain, and began to pull tight.
"Thought you could pull one over on me?" he hissed at Rebecca, pulling her close to him and tightening the chain.
They were starting to move towards the back of the ship, near where Dale climbed back onto the ship.
"Thought you could send your 800 pound incel fuckhead to do your dirty work for you? Well bad news, Becky. I'm not going to be some filler contestant here. That's your role. And you? You're going to be a footnote in my legacy."
Dale pulled tighter. He had never been this violent before, nor had he felt this much hatred towards another person. But Rebecca clearly wanted a fight, and Dale was willing to give it to her.
G014: Mayumi Tendou
She kind of wondered, really, what Rebecca felt- it was like what happened with Gregory, right? Sort of. Not really. Leah didn’t at least pretend she was any better, didn’t lie to her. Does it make her a better person? Maybe. Maybe not.
But when the dart half-missed its mark and Rebecca fell, she knew for sure she felt that pit in her stomach again. Churning. Twisting. Like somebody stuck a hand in her abdomen and stirred her intestines around. It felt like if she did anything worse, that hand would pull, and drag, and the entirety of her guts would be wrenched outside along with it. She couldn’t. She couldn’t.
Maybe that’s why Dale got back up. Maybe that’s why Dale was the one strangling her this time. Because she couldn’t muster as much of her capacity for violence. A sign, of… of something, really, or it was probably just coincidence anyways because Leah doesn’t believe in miracles anymore.
And, maybe, just maybe, that’s why, when Dale started his monologue and when Rebecca started struggling- that’s why Leah was helping. Because she wasn’t the perpetrator anymore- Dale was, and if she dies it’ll be on Dale, and so she stepped a little to the side, put some distance, and wrapped her hands around her wrists. Just held them still, just like that. So she couldn’t fight back. And it felt a lot like wrapping her hands ‘round a neck, really. Because she knew from experience how much of a fuckup it would be to try to choke someone when they could choke you back. And the fact that she was taking away somebody’s chance of fighting back sort of felt even worse, but she couldn’t focus on that. Just on Rebecca’s face under oxygen deprivation, maybe that’s what she looked like when Gregory was getting at her, kind of desperate and kind of hopeless and- well, maybe she was just projecting.
She could feel the wrists squirm and she clenched down even harder, feeling the pulse against her skin, and sort of being sick at herself and at Junji and kind of at Dale and a bit sick for Mary.
Because she was just standing there, legs bent a little and back arched forward so she could grab at Rebecca’s wrists and hold them up in a way that must’ve been a bit painful, and it sort of struck her, how she tried to stop a fight between her and… and two other killers, really, and now She was letting Dale kill her and it’s just wrong, it’s all wrong, yet it didn’t feel as bad as she thought it would because it was either her and Junji or the rest of them. But it still made her kind of sad how things turned out this way.
Then the thought struck her.
And suddenly she knew it wasn’t Rebecca’s fault for wanting to survive, and it wasn’t Dale’s fault for being angry, and it wasn’t even Junji’s fault, deep down, for being indoctrinated in a society that told him this should be fun. It wasn’t her own fault for playing this game when she never really had the ability to make an impact and do something different. It wasn’t any of their fault. They were just powerless, cogs in a machine, front-line soldiers of the war, just every fucking and saying she could think of. There weren’t any what-ifs. There wasn't any hope. No chance of being more than they ever were.
They are and always will be objects. Just little kids struggling to make it in this system build to use and exploit them. The best she could hope for was to put on a good show and maybe make Mom and Dad and Jewel proud. And maybe if she got out, if the dice were rolled just right- then, maybe she could try to pick up the pieces that were still there and cry and drink and put on a pretty smile and probably die before her forties because of something she did to herself.
And maybe Rebecca could have had it better. Could’ve. Maybe. But now she didn’t have a chance, because Leah was helping somebody take it away.
But when the dart half-missed its mark and Rebecca fell, she knew for sure she felt that pit in her stomach again. Churning. Twisting. Like somebody stuck a hand in her abdomen and stirred her intestines around. It felt like if she did anything worse, that hand would pull, and drag, and the entirety of her guts would be wrenched outside along with it. She couldn’t. She couldn’t.
Maybe that’s why Dale got back up. Maybe that’s why Dale was the one strangling her this time. Because she couldn’t muster as much of her capacity for violence. A sign, of… of something, really, or it was probably just coincidence anyways because Leah doesn’t believe in miracles anymore.
And, maybe, just maybe, that’s why, when Dale started his monologue and when Rebecca started struggling- that’s why Leah was helping. Because she wasn’t the perpetrator anymore- Dale was, and if she dies it’ll be on Dale, and so she stepped a little to the side, put some distance, and wrapped her hands around her wrists. Just held them still, just like that. So she couldn’t fight back. And it felt a lot like wrapping her hands ‘round a neck, really. Because she knew from experience how much of a fuckup it would be to try to choke someone when they could choke you back. And the fact that she was taking away somebody’s chance of fighting back sort of felt even worse, but she couldn’t focus on that. Just on Rebecca’s face under oxygen deprivation, maybe that’s what she looked like when Gregory was getting at her, kind of desperate and kind of hopeless and- well, maybe she was just projecting.
She could feel the wrists squirm and she clenched down even harder, feeling the pulse against her skin, and sort of being sick at herself and at Junji and kind of at Dale and a bit sick for Mary.
Because she was just standing there, legs bent a little and back arched forward so she could grab at Rebecca’s wrists and hold them up in a way that must’ve been a bit painful, and it sort of struck her, how she tried to stop a fight between her and… and two other killers, really, and now She was letting Dale kill her and it’s just wrong, it’s all wrong, yet it didn’t feel as bad as she thought it would because it was either her and Junji or the rest of them. But it still made her kind of sad how things turned out this way.
Then the thought struck her.
And suddenly she knew it wasn’t Rebecca’s fault for wanting to survive, and it wasn’t Dale’s fault for being angry, and it wasn’t even Junji’s fault, deep down, for being indoctrinated in a society that told him this should be fun. It wasn’t her own fault for playing this game when she never really had the ability to make an impact and do something different. It wasn’t any of their fault. They were just powerless, cogs in a machine, front-line soldiers of the war, just every fucking and saying she could think of. There weren’t any what-ifs. There wasn't any hope. No chance of being more than they ever were.
They are and always will be objects. Just little kids struggling to make it in this system build to use and exploit them. The best she could hope for was to put on a good show and maybe make Mom and Dad and Jewel proud. And maybe if she got out, if the dice were rolled just right- then, maybe she could try to pick up the pieces that were still there and cry and drink and put on a pretty smile and probably die before her forties because of something she did to herself.
And maybe Rebecca could have had it better. Could’ve. Maybe. But now she didn’t have a chance, because Leah was helping somebody take it away.
In that moment, someone struck.
Rebecca stumbled backwards, barely able to keep herself from falling into whoever had ambushed her. Was it Mary? Orin? An interloper? It sounded like a boy, whoever it was, though Rebecca didn't have the brainpower to identify them by voice. All that mattered was that they were an enemy. Before she could swing the flashlight up at her attacker, another pair of hands came to pin them to her side. Whatever curse she would've said died in her throat, coming out as a garbled cough.
This wasn't supposed to happen. Junji had a gun, for christ's sake. Why didn't he just gun everyone else down the moment she identified herself as a teammate? Why hadn't she just attacked Orin outright? Why wasn't he helping now? All these maybes swirled around in Rebecca's head, but they didn't help get more oxygen to her brain.
She thrashed around, trying in vain to wriggle out of her attackers' grasps. While she couldn't scream, she hoped Junji would hear her choked cries. Her heart felt like it was about to explode, but the fact that it was beating meant that she was still alive. That she still had a chance.
Rebecca stumbled backwards, barely able to keep herself from falling into whoever had ambushed her. Was it Mary? Orin? An interloper? It sounded like a boy, whoever it was, though Rebecca didn't have the brainpower to identify them by voice. All that mattered was that they were an enemy. Before she could swing the flashlight up at her attacker, another pair of hands came to pin them to her side. Whatever curse she would've said died in her throat, coming out as a garbled cough.
This wasn't supposed to happen. Junji had a gun, for christ's sake. Why didn't he just gun everyone else down the moment she identified herself as a teammate? Why hadn't she just attacked Orin outright? Why wasn't he helping now? All these maybes swirled around in Rebecca's head, but they didn't help get more oxygen to her brain.
She thrashed around, trying in vain to wriggle out of her attackers' grasps. While she couldn't scream, she hoped Junji would hear her choked cries. Her heart felt like it was about to explode, but the fact that it was beating meant that she was still alive. That she still had a chance.
The oar hit flesh, but it only stopped Junji in the meantime, as he blocked it using his arms. Then, he charged again. Mary grit her teeth, preparing for another blow. She wanted to scream, shout, do something, but right now she knew she wanted to push him away. Her arms shook, her legs shook. But she needed to keep going.
Mary went for another swing, but she felt herself step backwards, her legs losing balance.
And she fell.
She felt her head and elbows hit the deck’s floor, stunning her for a moment as she dropped the oar. But, then she heard more commotion.
Then, she turned her head and saw Dale and someone else struggling against Rebecca, with something wrapped around her neck. Mary sucked in a breath, something she realized she needed.
Mary went for another swing, but she felt herself step backwards, her legs losing balance.
And she fell.
She felt her head and elbows hit the deck’s floor, stunning her for a moment as she dropped the oar. But, then she heard more commotion.
Then, she turned her head and saw Dale and someone else struggling against Rebecca, with something wrapped around her neck. Mary sucked in a breath, something she realized she needed.
Junji grinned as Mary hit the deck. Her head made a satisfying thunk into the solid surface, while he stood tall on both legs, knife in hand. Soon he’d have another notch in his belt.
Unfortunately for that plan, and fortunately for Mary, Junji couldn’t miss the commotion of Rebecca getting throttled. Had she been on any other team, he would’ve just let her go while finishing off Mary. Hell, had she insulted him, he probably would’ve done the same.
She hadn’t done that though, and she was on his team. More to the point, she had shown a willingness to play by starting the whole chain of events off. In fact, maybe if Junji had let her whack Dale over the head like she originally thought, he wouldn’t have apparently survived being shot (‘How did that even happen?’ he would’ve thought if there really was any time to think) and come back to haunt her. Even by Junji’s standards, she was an ally.
With that in-the-moment reasoning, he abandoned killing Mary for now and went to intervene. Not by moving towards them though, with that knife still in hand. No, he instead turned to find where his gun had landed. That would be more effective, he thought quickly.
Unfortunately for that plan, and fortunately for Mary, Junji couldn’t miss the commotion of Rebecca getting throttled. Had she been on any other team, he would’ve just let her go while finishing off Mary. Hell, had she insulted him, he probably would’ve done the same.
She hadn’t done that though, and she was on his team. More to the point, she had shown a willingness to play by starting the whole chain of events off. In fact, maybe if Junji had let her whack Dale over the head like she originally thought, he wouldn’t have apparently survived being shot (‘How did that even happen?’ he would’ve thought if there really was any time to think) and come back to haunt her. Even by Junji’s standards, she was an ally.
With that in-the-moment reasoning, he abandoned killing Mary for now and went to intervene. Not by moving towards them though, with that knife still in hand. No, he instead turned to find where his gun had landed. That would be more effective, he thought quickly.
Dale continued to tighten the grip on the bandanna chain. The wet cloth was slipping a bit in his hands, but he tried to keep as firm a grip on it as he could. He had to finish the job, no matter how challenging it was. All of America was watching him, and while some were probably hoping Rebecca would escape this, he believed enough people watching were cheering for him to get revenge on the girl who ordered his execution.
Fortunately for him, the other girl on the scene seemed prepared to help him kill Rebecca as well. He finally recognized her as Leah Hemingway. He didn't know her too well outside of the occasional class, but he was glad she was on his side and making it hard for Rebecca to fight back.
Dale felt more water drip from his forehead and into his eyes, causing him to blink rapidly. He flicked his head to the side to try and get some of the excess water off. He then moved closer so he could whisper in Rebecca's ear.
"It's almost over," he told her. "Bet you wish you had listened to us talk about Little Shop instead of trying to kill us."
Dale adjusted his grip on the bandanna. He could hear some commotion from where Mary and Junji were, but he focused on Rebecca.
"If you did, then you would realize that I'm not just an extra in this show. I'm the goddamn Daniel Day Lewis of our class, and you get to be the recipient of my method acting. So pay attention, Becky, because you're seeing just how sadistic I can act when I really dig deep."
Fortunately for him, the other girl on the scene seemed prepared to help him kill Rebecca as well. He finally recognized her as Leah Hemingway. He didn't know her too well outside of the occasional class, but he was glad she was on his side and making it hard for Rebecca to fight back.
Dale felt more water drip from his forehead and into his eyes, causing him to blink rapidly. He flicked his head to the side to try and get some of the excess water off. He then moved closer so he could whisper in Rebecca's ear.
"It's almost over," he told her. "Bet you wish you had listened to us talk about Little Shop instead of trying to kill us."
Dale adjusted his grip on the bandanna. He could hear some commotion from where Mary and Junji were, but he focused on Rebecca.
"If you did, then you would realize that I'm not just an extra in this show. I'm the goddamn Daniel Day Lewis of our class, and you get to be the recipient of my method acting. So pay attention, Becky, because you're seeing just how sadistic I can act when I really dig deep."
G014: Mayumi Tendou
The boy's voice was closer now, though Rebecca still didn't try to parse who he was or what he was saying. Instead, she smashed the side of her head into his face. There was a cry, and the cloth around her neck loosened.
Rebecca started to fall forward.
Rebecca started to fall forward.
She felt like she had to do something. Reach out. Go, like, “Dale, stop” and maybe try to make Rebecca’s death at least dignified. She didn’t know why Daniel Day Lewis was, and part of her didn’t want to know. And wasn’t it just kind of sad that she would never know? That Rebecca might never have known?
Wasn’t that just depressing?
Rebecca was loved. Everybody on this island was, except maybe Junji, but that sort of made her more depressed. Rebecca was somebody’s daughter and she was somebody’s friend and… and Leah was complicit in what would be her death.
Her hands didn’t leave her wrists, though. They squeezed even harder. As if it’ll do anything. She just wanted to get this over with so that she could go to some ship and cry and talk to Jewel. Because that was really the only thing that she could do. Just wanted this all to be over.
Water dripped off of Dale’s skin.
Leah took a single second to see how Mary was doing, and she pulled her eyes away back to Dale and saw him headbutted by the girl. She should've known, really- Leah was probably the most educated person here on how an attempted murder by choking could go, yet…
Nevermind that.
The arms holding Rebecca felt almost like they could pop as Rebecca slumped forward, warranting just the littlest bit of a pull backwards, not enough to move her but just to make sure her hands wouldn't slip out. The weight of the girl jerked Leah forwards a bit, her knees bending and hair falling into her face, but she pulled herself back in time, stretching and un-bending her arms to keep just a few more inches of space in between, waiting for Dale to return to the strangulation business.
Wasn’t that just depressing?
Rebecca was loved. Everybody on this island was, except maybe Junji, but that sort of made her more depressed. Rebecca was somebody’s daughter and she was somebody’s friend and… and Leah was complicit in what would be her death.
Her hands didn’t leave her wrists, though. They squeezed even harder. As if it’ll do anything. She just wanted to get this over with so that she could go to some ship and cry and talk to Jewel. Because that was really the only thing that she could do. Just wanted this all to be over.
Water dripped off of Dale’s skin.
Leah took a single second to see how Mary was doing, and she pulled her eyes away back to Dale and saw him headbutted by the girl. She should've known, really- Leah was probably the most educated person here on how an attempted murder by choking could go, yet…
Nevermind that.
The arms holding Rebecca felt almost like they could pop as Rebecca slumped forward, warranting just the littlest bit of a pull backwards, not enough to move her but just to make sure her hands wouldn't slip out. The weight of the girl jerked Leah forwards a bit, her knees bending and hair falling into her face, but she pulled herself back in time, stretching and un-bending her arms to keep just a few more inches of space in between, waiting for Dale to return to the strangulation business.
Junji scrambled for the gun. It was dark, but not so dark that he couldn’t find it. Just a little longer, just a little darker, just a little less luck, and Rebecca would be a choked chicken. Fate seemed to have something else in mind.
Junji spied his gun, it seeming to wink back at him. Really, it had only taken him a moment to spot because he hadn’t seen where it had landed in the first place. He moved over to it, as quickly as he could while breathing heavily from the rush of of adrenaline and exertion, and armed himself.
He turned back to the targets. Mary was lying there, no longer a threat, now just a pending bullet sack. But Rebecca was still in trouble, and she was the higher priority. He wanted her as an ally, and he wanted Dale and the other bitch dead. Didn’t even matter who the other bitch was (Leah? He thought Leah, in his quick assessment of the scene), she was just trying to kill Rebecca.
He levelled his gun, aiming it square at Dale’s head. Holding the cord around Rebecca’s neck, and just being a stubborn fuck about dying before, meant that he had to go down first. Leah would follow soon after.
Rebecca was close, but not close enough that he couldn't shoot past her to hit Dale. He had fired all those airsoft guns over the years, after all.
He fired three shots. There was a brief, but material pause between the first and the others, as he realised what he was doing again.
Junji spied his gun, it seeming to wink back at him. Really, it had only taken him a moment to spot because he hadn’t seen where it had landed in the first place. He moved over to it, as quickly as he could while breathing heavily from the rush of of adrenaline and exertion, and armed himself.
He turned back to the targets. Mary was lying there, no longer a threat, now just a pending bullet sack. But Rebecca was still in trouble, and she was the higher priority. He wanted her as an ally, and he wanted Dale and the other bitch dead. Didn’t even matter who the other bitch was (Leah? He thought Leah, in his quick assessment of the scene), she was just trying to kill Rebecca.
He levelled his gun, aiming it square at Dale’s head. Holding the cord around Rebecca’s neck, and just being a stubborn fuck about dying before, meant that he had to go down first. Leah would follow soon after.
Rebecca was close, but not close enough that he couldn't shoot past her to hit Dale. He had fired all those airsoft guns over the years, after all.
He fired three shots. There was a brief, but material pause between the first and the others, as he realised what he was doing again.