Hell yeah he was ready.
What he wasn't ready for was the gun shot from Scarlett's giant handgun, the footsteps stopping to reveal Miranda, the attacker who had been on his heels and a repeat appearance of her explosive hand tossed weapon.
"Move, Move!" Kyran shoved at the others to scatter, to avoid the oncoming flash he knew was about to happen, as he raced a few feet to the door of the boat shed.
Kyran hurriedly pushed the door open, for everyone to move in.
What he didn't expect was the sharp pain coming from within, entering his body from the front, right out the back, holding him in place for several seconds.
He looked down at the red flowing out of his fresh wound, the weapon responsible, still in his body, as he spat out blood and slowly slid off the blade that impaled him. Kyran hit the ground, in a similar daze from the day he passed out from dehydration.
Kyran Dean coughed up some more, staring deliriously at the blue sky above him - as the blinding flash lit up the surrounding area.
Shoulder of Orion
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Primrosette
- Posts: 896
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 1:59 pm
- Location: In Her Dark Abyss
Scarlett had managed to hit Miranda with a bullet but then she watched as Miranda threw a flashbang in their direction. Scarlett made herself move to follow the others.
But she felt herself freezing, gun and icepick trembling in her hands. Kyran was on the floor, bleeding. She hadn't even saw what had just happened to him but panic swept over her like she was getting knocked down by the ocean.
"Kyran-"
Then she was was suddenly blinded by a bright light. She tried to move front but she couldn't see a thing. Instead she stopped and tried to listen to footsteps and voices. She had to get to Kyran, she had to help him.
Protect him. Kill Miranda.
She raised her icepick and gun at the ready.
But she felt herself freezing, gun and icepick trembling in her hands. Kyran was on the floor, bleeding. She hadn't even saw what had just happened to him but panic swept over her like she was getting knocked down by the ocean.
"Kyran-"
Then she was was suddenly blinded by a bright light. She tried to move front but she couldn't see a thing. Instead she stopped and tried to listen to footsteps and voices. She had to get to Kyran, she had to help him.
Protect him. Kill Miranda.
She raised her icepick and gun at the ready.
Michael only turned his head away for a second while Kyran opened the door. Gunshots rocked off behind him, and he turned to look at where they were coming from. Scarlett was firing back at someone, Michael turned his line of sight to her target. It was Miranda, one of the people chasing Kyran, holding a small metal ca-
"Grenade!"
Michael turned his head back to Kyran who was on the ground now, blood leaking from his chest. His eyes moved to the blood stained sword, and the shadowed figure in the doorway. You're dead. I killed you. I watched you burn damnit. You're dead. I killed you. I killed you!
Michael pushed away from Chuck immediately as he moved in to assist Kyran. This wasn't possible. How was this happening, how, how how! They were so close! How did she get here?! Michael raised his chain clad fist in preparation to block the incoming strike, before a bright white flash took everything, leaving nothing but a negative of her face.
It was unreal. The world was frozen. He could hear nothing but ringing. Nothing was moving in his sight, all he could see was her face. She was charging, but she was frozen. Kyran crumpled in the corner, KK was charging, blood all over her sword, her face fucked beyond belief. That image was frozen, burned in his eyes, and for a moment he thought the world was frozen.
The world wasn't frozen though, as he came to realize when he felt cold metal slide between his ribs. The image was the same, nothing changed. He felt and tasted the blood coming out his mouth as he was pushed back and jerked around on the blade like a gored bullfighter. He felt the blade pull out as he fell back to the ground, smacking hard against the earth.
He coughed and sputtered and writhed around on the ground as blood poured out his chest, mouth, and nose. The ringing was fading, and he could hear his friends screaming, panicking... The vision was fading, and he could see the dirt he was laying on, and the blood that was pooling around it.
This wasn't right, none of this was right. Everything was going off script, this wasn't part of the plan, none of this was going right. How? How did KK fuck this up so much? How did Mike fuck this up, she should be dead!
This wasn't right.
This wasn't right...
He curled up as he tried to desperately push himself off the ground.
"Grenade!"
Michael turned his head back to Kyran who was on the ground now, blood leaking from his chest. His eyes moved to the blood stained sword, and the shadowed figure in the doorway. You're dead. I killed you. I watched you burn damnit. You're dead. I killed you. I killed you!
Michael pushed away from Chuck immediately as he moved in to assist Kyran. This wasn't possible. How was this happening, how, how how! They were so close! How did she get here?! Michael raised his chain clad fist in preparation to block the incoming strike, before a bright white flash took everything, leaving nothing but a negative of her face.
It was unreal. The world was frozen. He could hear nothing but ringing. Nothing was moving in his sight, all he could see was her face. She was charging, but she was frozen. Kyran crumpled in the corner, KK was charging, blood all over her sword, her face fucked beyond belief. That image was frozen, burned in his eyes, and for a moment he thought the world was frozen.
The world wasn't frozen though, as he came to realize when he felt cold metal slide between his ribs. The image was the same, nothing changed. He felt and tasted the blood coming out his mouth as he was pushed back and jerked around on the blade like a gored bullfighter. He felt the blade pull out as he fell back to the ground, smacking hard against the earth.
He coughed and sputtered and writhed around on the ground as blood poured out his chest, mouth, and nose. The ringing was fading, and he could hear his friends screaming, panicking... The vision was fading, and he could see the dirt he was laying on, and the blood that was pooling around it.
This wasn't right, none of this was right. Everything was going off script, this wasn't part of the plan, none of this was going right. How? How did KK fuck this up so much? How did Mike fuck this up, she should be dead!
This wasn't right.
This wasn't right...
He curled up as he tried to desperately push himself off the ground.
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
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General Goose
- Posts: 318
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 2:51 pm
Chuck almost let go of Mike as the grenade flew towards them. 'This was it', he thought. In that moment, imminent death didn't seem quite so...terrifying. But maybe that was because he had time to ponder the implications of it. Michael pushed away from him, regardless.
Kyran, oh God, no, not Kyran.
The implications of the deaths of his companions didn't need time to sink in. They were heroes. All of them. Good people. The sort of heroes that survived shit like this. No.
And then the flashbang. Chuck managed to tug his hat down above his eyes, and as he was shrouded in darkness, the moribund nature of his current situation sunk in only too well. The bang made him lose balance, and he tumbled to the ground, temporarily beneath the radar of the chaos above him.
He pulled his hat up. This was a warzone. Had to fight. Had to survive. Rehearse first aid tips in his head. Recovery position. Crisis management. All those shooting survival tips his father had incessantly drilled into his mind. Do his parents proud. Do his friends proud. Now that he'd had time to process his own mortality...it was less traumatic than the thought of Scarlett, Michael, and Kyran dying. So fight for them. Be the hero. Do something worthwhile for this group.
The camera stunt failed, Chuck. That was all you had.You're not strong, or healthy, or charismatic. No leadership ability. Academic skills and booksmarts, sure, but they're redundant out here. Useless. You're not even the last repository of that stuff. Not like any arcane knowledge is going to die with you. No. You're a foot soldier. Cannon fodder. Expendable. You might step in front of a bullet instead of someone important. You might be the fall guy, the scapegoat, for any experimental attempts.
Chuck pushed himself up off the ground slightly, careful not to attract any attention. Looked around. His bag, thankfully, had fallen nearby. He could see the shape of what he needed through the fabric. Unmistakeable. Like a present that could only be one thing.
Depressing, sure.
Chuck had managed to avoid grappling with serious mental health issues for most of his life. Had every sympathy, of course, tried being understanding. But he'd had a crash course in the reality of all of them over the past few days, both in himself, and in others. Only way to explain the murders, the suicides.
Pulled out the crossbow. You should stand up to load a crossbow, but he didn't have that luxury. He placed it underneath his form, digging it into the ground at an angle, placing his foot in the cocking stirrup, double checking the orientation of the ropes. Trying to approximate the position of standing up as much as possible despite being prone.
Something liberating about that, though. Most powerful purpose you've ever had in your life.[/b]
He pulled out a bolt, placed it between his teeth, and bit down on it. Just to have something in place. Moved the bowstring into position.
He'd need to do this twice, Chuck was guessing. Two threats. He'd go for Miranda first, just in case she wasn't already dealt with it, but if not, that monster in the cabin would be killed.
Kyran, oh God, no, not Kyran.
The implications of the deaths of his companions didn't need time to sink in. They were heroes. All of them. Good people. The sort of heroes that survived shit like this. No.
And then the flashbang. Chuck managed to tug his hat down above his eyes, and as he was shrouded in darkness, the moribund nature of his current situation sunk in only too well. The bang made him lose balance, and he tumbled to the ground, temporarily beneath the radar of the chaos above him.
He pulled his hat up. This was a warzone. Had to fight. Had to survive. Rehearse first aid tips in his head. Recovery position. Crisis management. All those shooting survival tips his father had incessantly drilled into his mind. Do his parents proud. Do his friends proud. Now that he'd had time to process his own mortality...it was less traumatic than the thought of Scarlett, Michael, and Kyran dying. So fight for them. Be the hero. Do something worthwhile for this group.
The camera stunt failed, Chuck. That was all you had.You're not strong, or healthy, or charismatic. No leadership ability. Academic skills and booksmarts, sure, but they're redundant out here. Useless. You're not even the last repository of that stuff. Not like any arcane knowledge is going to die with you. No. You're a foot soldier. Cannon fodder. Expendable. You might step in front of a bullet instead of someone important. You might be the fall guy, the scapegoat, for any experimental attempts.
Chuck pushed himself up off the ground slightly, careful not to attract any attention. Looked around. His bag, thankfully, had fallen nearby. He could see the shape of what he needed through the fabric. Unmistakeable. Like a present that could only be one thing.
Depressing, sure.
Chuck had managed to avoid grappling with serious mental health issues for most of his life. Had every sympathy, of course, tried being understanding. But he'd had a crash course in the reality of all of them over the past few days, both in himself, and in others. Only way to explain the murders, the suicides.
Pulled out the crossbow. You should stand up to load a crossbow, but he didn't have that luxury. He placed it underneath his form, digging it into the ground at an angle, placing his foot in the cocking stirrup, double checking the orientation of the ropes. Trying to approximate the position of standing up as much as possible despite being prone.
Something liberating about that, though. Most powerful purpose you've ever had in your life.[/b]
He pulled out a bolt, placed it between his teeth, and bit down on it. Just to have something in place. Moved the bowstring into position.
He'd need to do this twice, Chuck was guessing. Two threats. He'd go for Miranda first, just in case she wasn't already dealt with it, but if not, that monster in the cabin would be killed.
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Latin For Dragula
- Posts: 399
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 10:28 pm
He hadn't opened the door. But KK was ready for whoever was out there. Burned, bruised, bleeding, beaten half to death, she was still more prepared than anyone else here.
There were so many times she should have died.
Someone else paid the price for all of them. She didn't even look at the face slipping towards the ground as she pulled her broken blade free. Not out of fear. Disgust. Certainty. Distraction. Determination. None of these fit. For once, it honestly didn't matter to her. It wasn't why she was here, and it didn't even put up enough fight to be considered an obstacle. If it couldn't stop her, then the gunfire wasn't going to slow her down either. She barely even heard it. There was a soft, high-pitched hum in her ears that seemed to echo out all around her as she walked forward over the body with Michael dead center in her gaze.
Only one side of her mouth opened to scream as she charged the blade towards his stomach.
There were so many times she should have died.
Someone else paid the price for all of them. She didn't even look at the face slipping towards the ground as she pulled her broken blade free. Not out of fear. Disgust. Certainty. Distraction. Determination. None of these fit. For once, it honestly didn't matter to her. It wasn't why she was here, and it didn't even put up enough fight to be considered an obstacle. If it couldn't stop her, then the gunfire wasn't going to slow her down either. She barely even heard it. There was a soft, high-pitched hum in her ears that seemed to echo out all around her as she walked forward over the body with Michael dead center in her gaze.
Only one side of her mouth opened to scream as she charged the blade towards his stomach.
The force came from behind.
An arm, his arm wrapped around it's skinny throat, caught in the crease between bicep and forearm. Squeezing, yanking her back in a rapid whiplash, holding it in place. Brown hair, green clothes, but with a messed up, melted face. It was Adonis' Gun Girl. It was K.K.
"NO," Kyran wheezed out. "We ain't gonna take this - shit - ANYMORE!"
His other arm went up, locking her in place, hand over head, more strength applied to the force tightening around the neck, loosening it's grip on the blade. His grip was stronger: a cobra-like clutch.
Sleep Bitch. SLEEP.
Kyran Dean glanced over at Michael Crowe, newly opened, bleeding as he was. The entire moment, the situation literally happening in a bright white - flash. Courtesy of Miranda.
At this moment, Kyran was thankful for developing such a high pain tolerance over the years, as the adrenaline pumped through his veins. An expression in his eyes, as if to say, 'right Mike' as he looked at his bud, at Cap'n Crowe. Beckoning Michael to get up and get some.
"GET IT."
An arm, his arm wrapped around it's skinny throat, caught in the crease between bicep and forearm. Squeezing, yanking her back in a rapid whiplash, holding it in place. Brown hair, green clothes, but with a messed up, melted face. It was Adonis' Gun Girl. It was K.K.
"NO," Kyran wheezed out. "We ain't gonna take this - shit - ANYMORE!"
His other arm went up, locking her in place, hand over head, more strength applied to the force tightening around the neck, loosening it's grip on the blade. His grip was stronger: a cobra-like clutch.
Sleep Bitch. SLEEP.
Kyran Dean glanced over at Michael Crowe, newly opened, bleeding as he was. The entire moment, the situation literally happening in a bright white - flash. Courtesy of Miranda.
At this moment, Kyran was thankful for developing such a high pain tolerance over the years, as the adrenaline pumped through his veins. An expression in his eyes, as if to say, 'right Mike' as he looked at his bud, at Cap'n Crowe. Beckoning Michael to get up and get some.
"GET IT."
The flashbang went off with an almost satisfying pop.
Did it make her a freak that it felt that way? Maybe. But it meant that it was working. They were probably stunned, and that’d mean she could… do a lot of things.
…
What was her plan again? Use the flashbang, then go closer while they’re stunned and hit them with the iron. Right. Maybe her head was feeling fuzzy. Maybe? Actually, yeah it was.
She’d shielded her eyes from the flashbang, but while her eyes were fine, her ears rang even more. Miranda fished out the tire iron, a bit slower than she liked. But she clasped it, and held onto it tight. She still felt the ache in her shoulder, and the different type of ache in her leg. But she had to go through with it. Finish what she started.
She ran her tongue against her chapped lips, and stepped forward.
…
And Scarlett was still… being Scarlett. Miranda scowled, despite the pain she was in. Despite the fuzziness in her brain. She became more aware of the tire iron in her hand. It felt like it was a part of her, like an arm or a leg. But Scarlett had that icepick and that gun. Be careful.
But she continued to step forward. Limp forward. As fast as she can.
She was going to deal with her. Leap at her. Hit her.
Miranda lifted her arm, the one with the tire iron. She was close now.
Then, her eyes flicked again.
Movement from further in the cabin.
Her eyes flicked back to Scarlett.
Deal with her first.
She clenched the tire iron tighter. Go for a nice swing.
But her eyes couldn’t help but flick again. Her face changed, as she tried to figure out what was going on. Her dry mouth opened.
“What.”
Miranda blinked.
She’d seen and done a lot of things while she was here. Two boys falling to their deaths from a cliff. Getting into a fight with a girl with a spear-thing. Watching a girl slowly die of infection. Shooting a boy who offered to help you. Running out of a dangerzone in a panic. Seeing Saachi and Bunny. Whatever that was in the woods.
But maybe her brain was just fatigued, maybe it was blood loss. Maybe things were so hectic her heart rate couldn’t go up any faster. But now… was that freaking KK?
Great.
Sometimes things just need a "what."
One more flick towards Scarlett. Deal with her, she repeated to herself in her head. She’s closer and more dangerous to you right now. Maybe.
Miranda did the first thing that came to mind, and let the tire iron swing.
Did it make her a freak that it felt that way? Maybe. But it meant that it was working. They were probably stunned, and that’d mean she could… do a lot of things.
…
What was her plan again? Use the flashbang, then go closer while they’re stunned and hit them with the iron. Right. Maybe her head was feeling fuzzy. Maybe? Actually, yeah it was.
She’d shielded her eyes from the flashbang, but while her eyes were fine, her ears rang even more. Miranda fished out the tire iron, a bit slower than she liked. But she clasped it, and held onto it tight. She still felt the ache in her shoulder, and the different type of ache in her leg. But she had to go through with it. Finish what she started.
She ran her tongue against her chapped lips, and stepped forward.
…
And Scarlett was still… being Scarlett. Miranda scowled, despite the pain she was in. Despite the fuzziness in her brain. She became more aware of the tire iron in her hand. It felt like it was a part of her, like an arm or a leg. But Scarlett had that icepick and that gun. Be careful.
But she continued to step forward. Limp forward. As fast as she can.
She was going to deal with her. Leap at her. Hit her.
Miranda lifted her arm, the one with the tire iron. She was close now.
Then, her eyes flicked again.
Movement from further in the cabin.
Her eyes flicked back to Scarlett.
Deal with her first.
She clenched the tire iron tighter. Go for a nice swing.
But her eyes couldn’t help but flick again. Her face changed, as she tried to figure out what was going on. Her dry mouth opened.
“What.”
Miranda blinked.
She’d seen and done a lot of things while she was here. Two boys falling to their deaths from a cliff. Getting into a fight with a girl with a spear-thing. Watching a girl slowly die of infection. Shooting a boy who offered to help you. Running out of a dangerzone in a panic. Seeing Saachi and Bunny. Whatever that was in the woods.
But maybe her brain was just fatigued, maybe it was blood loss. Maybe things were so hectic her heart rate couldn’t go up any faster. But now… was that freaking KK?
Great.
Sometimes things just need a "what."
One more flick towards Scarlett. Deal with her, she repeated to herself in her head. She’s closer and more dangerous to you right now. Maybe.
Miranda did the first thing that came to mind, and let the tire iron swing.
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Primrosette
- Posts: 896
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 1:59 pm
- Location: In Her Dark Abyss
Scarlett needed a few moments to focus. Her vision was trying to adjust to what had blurred her for a few seconds. She could hear everyone in front of her. Making noises, screaming at each other, trying to fight back against the threat against them. This was it. They all had to fight for their survival. Their plan had gotten ruined by these mindless girls who were murderous psychos.
Just listen, Scarlett.
A 'what' was said near her. Miranda's voice. She could hear her footsteps coming closer to her. Scarlett didn't move, she almost didn't breathe. She had to catch Miranda off-guard. She couldn't let this girl win and somehow get home.
Just wait, Scarlett.
Getting closer.
Just wait....
The footsteps had stopped.
Now!
Scarlett spun around towards Miranda who was swinging a tire iron towards her. But Scarlett couldn't do anything to stop the tire iron from connecting with her temple. The impact caused her mind to go black for a moment. It felt like she was about to collapse from the sudden blow. But as Scarlett had been turning, her hand holding the ice pick had been swung towards Miranda's body. She had aimed for anywhere as she was stumbling backwards from the blow.
Just listen, Scarlett.
A 'what' was said near her. Miranda's voice. She could hear her footsteps coming closer to her. Scarlett didn't move, she almost didn't breathe. She had to catch Miranda off-guard. She couldn't let this girl win and somehow get home.
Just wait, Scarlett.
Getting closer.
Just wait....
The footsteps had stopped.
Now!
Scarlett spun around towards Miranda who was swinging a tire iron towards her. But Scarlett couldn't do anything to stop the tire iron from connecting with her temple. The impact caused her mind to go black for a moment. It felt like she was about to collapse from the sudden blow. But as Scarlett had been turning, her hand holding the ice pick had been swung towards Miranda's body. She had aimed for anywhere as she was stumbling backwards from the blow.
Michael watched as the blood trailed out of him, as all of this planning came to nothing. He rolled onto his back and tried to breath in, as blood pooled in his lungs. He turned to look at his killer. Any disbelief was gone, it was KK. She... She looked like the monster she wanted to be, that's for sure. Her face was sloughing off like that toxic waste guy in Robocop. God... There was someone on this island uglier than him now, holy shit...
He couldn't laugh. Of all the things, he couldn't laugh. This situation was just so fucked up, even he couldn't find anything funny about it. KK was just taking her time walking up to finish him, then Chuck, then Scarlett off, while Miranda was joining in, throwing flashbangs everywhere. They were all going to die, weren't they? They were this close... This close, and now it's all fucked because you fucked up. You know that right? They're dying because you weren't thorough, you wanted the moral high ground. Look where it's getting you.
Michael tried crawling back as KK got ever so much closer. His head was focused on Scarlett and Chuck. Could they help? Were they too busy with Miranda. He used his arm to pull himself back towards them, to drag himself away from his impending death as much as he could. He realized he wasn't doing them any favors... She was gonna kill them after she killed him.
He pushed himself to his knees and looked KK dead in the eyes. Maybe she'd torture him long enough for the others to get away? Sounds like a fair trade, he'd deserve it. He brought her here. He got Kyran killed because of her. No crying you little bitch, don't you dare give her any, don't you dare give the cameras any.
She was taking her time again. Toying with him, Michael knew what was coming next, and he knew she was going to enjoy it. "Come on..." He rasped out. "Come on!" His eyes went from her eyes to his arm, still grasping at her throat. "Come on you melted mozzarella motherfucker! I'm here, come on! What's taking you so long! COME ON!"
"COOOOME OOOOOON!" He hated her. She was just gonna draw this out, wasn't she? She was like Blaine if Blaine was actually capable, she had all of them at their mercy. "COOOOME OOOOOON!"
"Co-"
Kyran grabbed a hold of KK and began dragging her back. "NO," He... He actually got her. "We ain't gonna take this - shit - ANYMORE!" This wasn't over... They still had a chance... Kyran dragged KK back, back all the way to the boathouse, not giving KK an inch as she thrashed around.
He heard Kyran's voice one last time as he pushed himself off the ground.
"GET IT."
"Come on..."
Michael was talking to himself now as he peeling himself from the dirt, blood pouring out.
Come on."
He began to limp forwards, picking up speed as he got closer.
"Come on!"
He yelled at he picked up into a full dead sprint.
"Come on! Come On! COME ON!"
He raised his chain clad fist one last time.
"COOOOOME OOOOOOON!"
KK brought her sword up in a last ditch effort to block her face.
"COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOME OOOOOOOOOOOOOOON, YEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
Her sword didn't matter. He punched right through it. It shattered like glass.
"RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHHH!"
He punched through KK...
She shattered like glass!
He couldn't laugh. Of all the things, he couldn't laugh. This situation was just so fucked up, even he couldn't find anything funny about it. KK was just taking her time walking up to finish him, then Chuck, then Scarlett off, while Miranda was joining in, throwing flashbangs everywhere. They were all going to die, weren't they? They were this close... This close, and now it's all fucked because you fucked up. You know that right? They're dying because you weren't thorough, you wanted the moral high ground. Look where it's getting you.
Michael tried crawling back as KK got ever so much closer. His head was focused on Scarlett and Chuck. Could they help? Were they too busy with Miranda. He used his arm to pull himself back towards them, to drag himself away from his impending death as much as he could. He realized he wasn't doing them any favors... She was gonna kill them after she killed him.
He pushed himself to his knees and looked KK dead in the eyes. Maybe she'd torture him long enough for the others to get away? Sounds like a fair trade, he'd deserve it. He brought her here. He got Kyran killed because of her. No crying you little bitch, don't you dare give her any, don't you dare give the cameras any.
She was taking her time again. Toying with him, Michael knew what was coming next, and he knew she was going to enjoy it. "Come on..." He rasped out. "Come on!" His eyes went from her eyes to his arm, still grasping at her throat. "Come on you melted mozzarella motherfucker! I'm here, come on! What's taking you so long! COME ON!"
"COOOOME OOOOOON!" He hated her. She was just gonna draw this out, wasn't she? She was like Blaine if Blaine was actually capable, she had all of them at their mercy. "COOOOME OOOOOON!"
"Co-"
Kyran grabbed a hold of KK and began dragging her back. "NO," He... He actually got her. "We ain't gonna take this - shit - ANYMORE!" This wasn't over... They still had a chance... Kyran dragged KK back, back all the way to the boathouse, not giving KK an inch as she thrashed around.
He heard Kyran's voice one last time as he pushed himself off the ground.
"GET IT."
"Come on..."
Michael was talking to himself now as he peeling himself from the dirt, blood pouring out.
Come on."
He began to limp forwards, picking up speed as he got closer.
"Come on!"
He yelled at he picked up into a full dead sprint.
"Come on! Come On! COME ON!"
He raised his chain clad fist one last time.
"COOOOOME OOOOOOON!"
KK brought her sword up in a last ditch effort to block her face.
"COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOME OOOOOOOOOOOOOOON, YEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
Her sword didn't matter. He punched right through it. It shattered like glass.
"RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHHH!"
He punched through KK...
She shattered like glass!
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
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Latin For Dragula
- Posts: 399
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 10:28 pm
------
Whatever that was had hit her solidly in the back and sent her sprawling. Katarina had taken bad falls in the past and knew how to roll, but there was a difference in curling your body up in a ball to roll down a hill and falling down a few stairs.
But I struck first
Bump.
She was ready
Bump.
Alice and Irene would have died anyway
Bump.
It's not my fault
Bump.
Everyone will die any-
Snap.
It growled.
It snapped.
It rattled.
It howled.
It bit.
It clawed.
It sprang.
It pushed.
But Katarina's neck shattered on the light house steps. She was dead before she even knew It.
It would find another one.
------
No more
It hurt. The sensation wasn't unexpected, just the magnitude. KK was used to feeling the exhaustion wash over her after the adrenaline wore off, but in the blur of the lighthouse it was hard to remember she'd even gotten shot. Was it one of her own bullets, or had it been Irene? She hadn't stuck around long enough to see what kind of gun it was hanging out of her bag, and her ears were still ringing from her own shots. One could have slipped out without her realizing it.
They would have killed you you know better
Irene, then. She would remember that, assuming someone else didn't get to her first.
No it's so much easier to forget just forget just forget just forget
For now, though, Irene, Alice, and Eris weren't on her mind. Neither were her now bandaged wounds. What had her attention right now was the figure kneeling in the dirt between the trees. A thin girl with long, braided brown hair and a green blouse with a bag beside her. It looked like she was alone.
I don't see her
Shame.
I don't have to do this
Katarina brought the gun up to her shoulder and stared down its length into her back.
It's not too late
"Hey."
But she's already dead
Her finger tightened around the trigger.
It growled.
It snapped.
It rattled.
It howled.
It bit.
It clawed.
It sprang.
It pushed.
But the girl shot first. KK only saw the muzzle flash before the bullet bit between her eyes.
It would find another one.
------
Given time, KK might have paused and outlined for Adonis that the primary reason he hadn't been shot so far was that he was a moron.
What does that say about me?
That he had managed to trap himself in the middle of a sea of tar pits without noticing it, and had yet to piece together that the help being offered was to get him out of there alive despite her overt promises. That he was either telling an extremely bad lie, or he seriously had not checked on his weapon despite having been shot at multiple times so far. In short, that he could never be a threat to anyone but himself, and so there was no point wasting the bullet when he was as likely to drown himself in the bubbling black ooze in front of her as he was to walk off of a cliff because he wasn't watching where he was going.
Unless I'm wrong. Unless I'm not seeing everything. Unless I just want to believe I'm right and it all makes sense.
But there was no time to elaborate on that, because something that could actually be a threat was coming her way.
Shoot.
There had been a subconscious thread in KK's mind reminding her not to think of her classmates as human. It painted a picture of them more as obstacles that needed to be overcome than people, and while that hadn't fully taken over yet it made it easier to draw on them. What really sold that notion, though, was Kasumi's screech tearing at her with abandon. For a moment something in her felt intertwined fear and connection.
Stop looking at her face don't make me look at her face
Was this what it was like to stare down the steps into the barrel of her gun?
Only one way to find out
A question that didn't need to be answered. Her whole body spun away from Adonis and braced with her finger holding the trigger down tight. No warning shot or staccato of bursts, just a wild and unrelenting stream drilling towards the creature whose name she'd already made herself forget.
It growled.
It snapped.
It rattled.
It howled.
It bit.
It clawed.
It sprang.
It pushed.
Her shoulder flared up against the recoil. Every shot sung wide. Screaming in pain caught her so offguard that she didn't open her eyes again until the bat collided with her skull so hard everyone but KK would hear it echo all around the tar pits.
It would find another one.
------
One was running already. The corpse was just as still as she'd left it. And much like the last time she was here, there was one gawker trapped in the middle of the field. Neither of them appeared to pose any significant threat to her unless the girl secretly had a gun in that cooler. KK kept advancing. Her body moved with a rigid, almost robotic rhythm under her stone-set face. Running away from a killer with a gun likely seemed sensible, but in this case she had the advantage. Any step could leave them trapped for her, or worse.
...
At the rate they were breaking, she might as well just not waste the bullets.
...
"Stay where you are and I'll make it quick," she said flatly. "Run and either I'll catch you, or the pits will. Your choice."
It growled.
It snapped.
It rattled.
It howled.
It bit.
It clawed.
It sprang.
It pushed.
Something grabbed onto her foot, then quickly swallowed up the bottom of her leg. Her body tried to freeze mid stride, but not fast enough to keep her other foot from touching down into the tar. Panic gripped her chest tightly. She tried to reach out for something, anything to grab onto and pull herself out, but she was too off balance. One wrong move pitched her forward face first into the waiting tar. As she fell, she could feel their eyes drilling into her.
It would find another.
------
Screaming.
...
She hadn't been prepared for the screaming.
...
It had been so clear in her head. A few painful shots that would kill him but not immediately while she forced his partner to watch on helpless. A crotch, a knee-cap, a stomach. A gun to keep them complacent. A lot of blood to burn her message into the girl's mind. It worked as the fastest solution. What hadn't factored into her plans was the boy's feelings. He was already dead. Non-existent. More prop than person. Nothing he could do could influence the plan in any appreciable way.
You fucked up.
Except scream.
You let them in.
There were leaves and branches and soft earth underneath her feet.
Don't let them in.
How did she get back into the forest?
Don't let them in.
She didn't remember breaking through into the tree line. She didn't remember dropping into a dead sprint with her bag and gun flapping behind her. She didn't remember the barrel pointed up and smoking into a now empty space. She didn't remember the sudden pops of blood and flesh along the boy's body as her own spasmed into action. She didn't remember holding the trigger down and three yes one two three one two three one two three one two three onetwothreeonetwothreeonetwothreeonetwothreeonetwothreeonetwothreeonetwothreeonetwothreeonetwothreeonetwothreeonetwothree
It growled.
It snapped.
It rattled.
It howled.
It bit.
It clawed.
It sprang.
It pushed.
But she didn't remember turning around to look. she didn't remember the girl's cleaver hitting the back of her skull. She didn't remember her dying scream.
It would find another one.
------
The satisfying crack of the girl's skull was still ringing in her ears, but her body had already moved on with mechanical precision. Hands climbing and shifting to grip the middle of the gun and the arc of olive furniture descending towards her face followed in sync. Her death would be just as unremarkable as the body's behind her.
Eris's blood is on my shoes I can feel it sliding why am I sliding
When did she get on the ground? Why was everything blurry?
"Hi there, KK! Fancy seeing you here!"
With more time to focus she might have recalled the girl's leg scything her own out from under her, or her head colliding with the ground behind her, or the few seconds of disorientation that left her helpless and barely clutching her gun like a security blanket. Between the shooting pains in her skull, her unfocused vision, and the sensation of weight pressing down on her body from above, however, her attention was more than occupied. Two things cut through the fog:
How did I get here?
The girl was on top of her.
Why does her name hurt so much?
Irene was going to kill her.
It growled.
It snapped.
It rattled.
It howled.
It bit.
It clawed.
It sprang.
It pushed.
But Irene's fingers closed tight around her throat, and nothing she did would through her off. Her eyes glassed over under the grim determination of the first person she ever tried to kill.
It would find another one.
------
Wake up.
There's footsteps. There's someone in here. Wake up.
it's real. Someone's coming. So many of them could be coming.
You have to wake up.
You have to protect me.
Something pulled at the gun. Carefully. Movements too small to be noticed.
Don't let them in.
It jerked and held the trigger down before it could even open its eyes.
It growled.
It snapped.
It rattled.
It howled.
It bit.
It clawed.
It sprang.
It pushed.
But the gun was already gone. You couldn't protect me. You couldn't save me.
It would find another one.
------
She screamed and she charged and she caught It offguard to a measure. When their bodies collided it was all It could do to get an arm up between them as Its back was forced against the railing. Cold metal pressed painfully into Its back to remind It that there was nothing comforting standing between it and toppling over to the ground below. If Alice kept pressing, and It kept failing to respond, there was only one conclusion. That much was obvious.
At least it would have been if that was the game It was playing. But It didn't feel the cold against Its back. It didn't notice the scratch marks across Its face from her flailing swipes. The strain against Its arm didn't factor into its plan. If Katarina noticed these things she chose not to comment on them, or the fact that It hadn't been using Its right arm to fight back.
Neither Katarina nor Alice would notice the barrel of the gun creeping inch by inch as the struggled until it was pointed right at Alice's knee.
It growled.
It snapped.
It rattled.
It howled.
It bit.
It clawed.
It sprang.
It pushed.
But Katarina looked into Alice's eyes and forced it to hesitate. She had only a few seconds to regret this decision as Alice forced her over the railing.
It would find another one.
------
Oh.
Hair.
It hadn't thought about hair.
It thought about so little that could remind It It was a person.
I can't do this.
Shh.
This is stupid.
Shh.
This isn't better. It doesn't work.
Shh.
It was hard to come up with a more detailed argument with Its face buried in the counter and Its blood pooling around Its nose.
It growled.
It snapped.
It rattled.
It howled.
It bit.
It clawed.
It sprang.
It pushed.
But no argument came. The body wasn't moving. The voice wasn't responding. The angle and force of the tug had rattled her brain hard enough to silence her.
It would find another one.
------
She had him. She was going to gut him like she had gutted the corpse behind him and then do the same to every single person here. None of them were in any place to help him and he seemed too terrified to even try to resist her. There was nothing to keep him from her until the corpse behind her sprang back to life and began to drag her back the way they came.
She growled.
She snapped.
She rattled.
She howled.
She bit.
She clawed.
She sprang.
She pushed.
But when Michael came roaring at her one last time, there was nothing for her to do but stare at his approaching fist until it was buried deep within her skull.
It had already found another one.
Whatever that was had hit her solidly in the back and sent her sprawling. Katarina had taken bad falls in the past and knew how to roll, but there was a difference in curling your body up in a ball to roll down a hill and falling down a few stairs.
But I struck first
Bump.
She was ready
Bump.
Alice and Irene would have died anyway
Bump.
It's not my fault
Bump.
Everyone will die any-
Snap.
It growled.
It snapped.
It rattled.
It howled.
It bit.
It clawed.
It sprang.
It pushed.
But Katarina's neck shattered on the light house steps. She was dead before she even knew It.
It would find another one.
------
No more
It hurt. The sensation wasn't unexpected, just the magnitude. KK was used to feeling the exhaustion wash over her after the adrenaline wore off, but in the blur of the lighthouse it was hard to remember she'd even gotten shot. Was it one of her own bullets, or had it been Irene? She hadn't stuck around long enough to see what kind of gun it was hanging out of her bag, and her ears were still ringing from her own shots. One could have slipped out without her realizing it.
They would have killed you you know better
Irene, then. She would remember that, assuming someone else didn't get to her first.
No it's so much easier to forget just forget just forget just forget
For now, though, Irene, Alice, and Eris weren't on her mind. Neither were her now bandaged wounds. What had her attention right now was the figure kneeling in the dirt between the trees. A thin girl with long, braided brown hair and a green blouse with a bag beside her. It looked like she was alone.
I don't see her
Shame.
I don't have to do this
Katarina brought the gun up to her shoulder and stared down its length into her back.
It's not too late
"Hey."
But she's already dead
Her finger tightened around the trigger.
It growled.
It snapped.
It rattled.
It howled.
It bit.
It clawed.
It sprang.
It pushed.
But the girl shot first. KK only saw the muzzle flash before the bullet bit between her eyes.
It would find another one.
------
Given time, KK might have paused and outlined for Adonis that the primary reason he hadn't been shot so far was that he was a moron.
What does that say about me?
That he had managed to trap himself in the middle of a sea of tar pits without noticing it, and had yet to piece together that the help being offered was to get him out of there alive despite her overt promises. That he was either telling an extremely bad lie, or he seriously had not checked on his weapon despite having been shot at multiple times so far. In short, that he could never be a threat to anyone but himself, and so there was no point wasting the bullet when he was as likely to drown himself in the bubbling black ooze in front of her as he was to walk off of a cliff because he wasn't watching where he was going.
Unless I'm wrong. Unless I'm not seeing everything. Unless I just want to believe I'm right and it all makes sense.
But there was no time to elaborate on that, because something that could actually be a threat was coming her way.
Shoot.
There had been a subconscious thread in KK's mind reminding her not to think of her classmates as human. It painted a picture of them more as obstacles that needed to be overcome than people, and while that hadn't fully taken over yet it made it easier to draw on them. What really sold that notion, though, was Kasumi's screech tearing at her with abandon. For a moment something in her felt intertwined fear and connection.
Stop looking at her face don't make me look at her face
Was this what it was like to stare down the steps into the barrel of her gun?
Only one way to find out
A question that didn't need to be answered. Her whole body spun away from Adonis and braced with her finger holding the trigger down tight. No warning shot or staccato of bursts, just a wild and unrelenting stream drilling towards the creature whose name she'd already made herself forget.
It growled.
It snapped.
It rattled.
It howled.
It bit.
It clawed.
It sprang.
It pushed.
Her shoulder flared up against the recoil. Every shot sung wide. Screaming in pain caught her so offguard that she didn't open her eyes again until the bat collided with her skull so hard everyone but KK would hear it echo all around the tar pits.
It would find another one.
------
One was running already. The corpse was just as still as she'd left it. And much like the last time she was here, there was one gawker trapped in the middle of the field. Neither of them appeared to pose any significant threat to her unless the girl secretly had a gun in that cooler. KK kept advancing. Her body moved with a rigid, almost robotic rhythm under her stone-set face. Running away from a killer with a gun likely seemed sensible, but in this case she had the advantage. Any step could leave them trapped for her, or worse.
...
At the rate they were breaking, she might as well just not waste the bullets.
...
"Stay where you are and I'll make it quick," she said flatly. "Run and either I'll catch you, or the pits will. Your choice."
It growled.
It snapped.
It rattled.
It howled.
It bit.
It clawed.
It sprang.
It pushed.
Something grabbed onto her foot, then quickly swallowed up the bottom of her leg. Her body tried to freeze mid stride, but not fast enough to keep her other foot from touching down into the tar. Panic gripped her chest tightly. She tried to reach out for something, anything to grab onto and pull herself out, but she was too off balance. One wrong move pitched her forward face first into the waiting tar. As she fell, she could feel their eyes drilling into her.
It would find another.
------
Screaming.
...
She hadn't been prepared for the screaming.
...
It had been so clear in her head. A few painful shots that would kill him but not immediately while she forced his partner to watch on helpless. A crotch, a knee-cap, a stomach. A gun to keep them complacent. A lot of blood to burn her message into the girl's mind. It worked as the fastest solution. What hadn't factored into her plans was the boy's feelings. He was already dead. Non-existent. More prop than person. Nothing he could do could influence the plan in any appreciable way.
You fucked up.
Except scream.
You let them in.
There were leaves and branches and soft earth underneath her feet.
Don't let them in.
How did she get back into the forest?
Don't let them in.
She didn't remember breaking through into the tree line. She didn't remember dropping into a dead sprint with her bag and gun flapping behind her. She didn't remember the barrel pointed up and smoking into a now empty space. She didn't remember the sudden pops of blood and flesh along the boy's body as her own spasmed into action. She didn't remember holding the trigger down and three yes one two three one two three one two three one two three onetwothreeonetwothreeonetwothreeonetwothreeonetwothreeonetwothreeonetwothreeonetwothreeonetwothreeonetwothreeonetwothree
It growled.
It snapped.
It rattled.
It howled.
It bit.
It clawed.
It sprang.
It pushed.
But she didn't remember turning around to look. she didn't remember the girl's cleaver hitting the back of her skull. She didn't remember her dying scream.
It would find another one.
------
The satisfying crack of the girl's skull was still ringing in her ears, but her body had already moved on with mechanical precision. Hands climbing and shifting to grip the middle of the gun and the arc of olive furniture descending towards her face followed in sync. Her death would be just as unremarkable as the body's behind her.
Eris's blood is on my shoes I can feel it sliding why am I sliding
When did she get on the ground? Why was everything blurry?
"Hi there, KK! Fancy seeing you here!"
With more time to focus she might have recalled the girl's leg scything her own out from under her, or her head colliding with the ground behind her, or the few seconds of disorientation that left her helpless and barely clutching her gun like a security blanket. Between the shooting pains in her skull, her unfocused vision, and the sensation of weight pressing down on her body from above, however, her attention was more than occupied. Two things cut through the fog:
How did I get here?
The girl was on top of her.
Why does her name hurt so much?
Irene was going to kill her.
It growled.
It snapped.
It rattled.
It howled.
It bit.
It clawed.
It sprang.
It pushed.
But Irene's fingers closed tight around her throat, and nothing she did would through her off. Her eyes glassed over under the grim determination of the first person she ever tried to kill.
It would find another one.
------
Wake up.
There's footsteps. There's someone in here. Wake up.
it's real. Someone's coming. So many of them could be coming.
You have to wake up.
You have to protect me.
Something pulled at the gun. Carefully. Movements too small to be noticed.
Don't let them in.
It jerked and held the trigger down before it could even open its eyes.
It growled.
It snapped.
It rattled.
It howled.
It bit.
It clawed.
It sprang.
It pushed.
But the gun was already gone. You couldn't protect me. You couldn't save me.
It would find another one.
------
She screamed and she charged and she caught It offguard to a measure. When their bodies collided it was all It could do to get an arm up between them as Its back was forced against the railing. Cold metal pressed painfully into Its back to remind It that there was nothing comforting standing between it and toppling over to the ground below. If Alice kept pressing, and It kept failing to respond, there was only one conclusion. That much was obvious.
At least it would have been if that was the game It was playing. But It didn't feel the cold against Its back. It didn't notice the scratch marks across Its face from her flailing swipes. The strain against Its arm didn't factor into its plan. If Katarina noticed these things she chose not to comment on them, or the fact that It hadn't been using Its right arm to fight back.
Neither Katarina nor Alice would notice the barrel of the gun creeping inch by inch as the struggled until it was pointed right at Alice's knee.
It growled.
It snapped.
It rattled.
It howled.
It bit.
It clawed.
It sprang.
It pushed.
But Katarina looked into Alice's eyes and forced it to hesitate. She had only a few seconds to regret this decision as Alice forced her over the railing.
It would find another one.
------
Oh.
Hair.
It hadn't thought about hair.
It thought about so little that could remind It It was a person.
I can't do this.
Shh.
This is stupid.
Shh.
This isn't better. It doesn't work.
Shh.
It was hard to come up with a more detailed argument with Its face buried in the counter and Its blood pooling around Its nose.
It growled.
It snapped.
It rattled.
It howled.
It bit.
It clawed.
It sprang.
It pushed.
But no argument came. The body wasn't moving. The voice wasn't responding. The angle and force of the tug had rattled her brain hard enough to silence her.
It would find another one.
------
She had him. She was going to gut him like she had gutted the corpse behind him and then do the same to every single person here. None of them were in any place to help him and he seemed too terrified to even try to resist her. There was nothing to keep him from her until the corpse behind her sprang back to life and began to drag her back the way they came.
She growled.
She snapped.
She rattled.
She howled.
She bit.
She clawed.
She sprang.
She pushed.
But when Michael came roaring at her one last time, there was nothing for her to do but stare at his approaching fist until it was buried deep within her skull.
It had already found another one.
It connected.
Miranda felt it. She felt the tire iron slam into Scarlett’s face. She made a quick breath. Great, good. One more.
Or something else could sting. Something else could pierce her skin.
For a moment, Miranda tensed up. Did she get shot again? She was sure she heard another crack, but it was different, wasn’t it? Like something breaking. Her eyes darted towards her shoulder again. Still stained red, but she saw… she saw a handle. It was right there, close to the first wound.
Her mouth gaped. Her brain screamed.
What did you do? What the hell did you do?
Flick back up. Scarlett had started to fall back. But Miranda’s tire iron was still there. Her left arm was growing numb. She was vaguely aware of her skin crawling, and tears forming in her eyes, and her lips curling.
Instinct took over.
Miranda swung again, a bit weaker.
“Stupid-”
Another swing. Harder.
“Stupid-!”
Her mud-slicked running shoes slipped underneath her some, reminding her slightly of her bruised leg. All the pain was dulled by adrenaline, and fear, and… and… determination? Who cares? She just wanted this over with, and she’d go back to Saachi, and- and- just end this.
Miranda felt it. She felt the tire iron slam into Scarlett’s face. She made a quick breath. Great, good. One more.
Or something else could sting. Something else could pierce her skin.
For a moment, Miranda tensed up. Did she get shot again? She was sure she heard another crack, but it was different, wasn’t it? Like something breaking. Her eyes darted towards her shoulder again. Still stained red, but she saw… she saw a handle. It was right there, close to the first wound.
Her mouth gaped. Her brain screamed.
What did you do? What the hell did you do?
Flick back up. Scarlett had started to fall back. But Miranda’s tire iron was still there. Her left arm was growing numb. She was vaguely aware of her skin crawling, and tears forming in her eyes, and her lips curling.
Instinct took over.
Miranda swung again, a bit weaker.
“Stupid-”
Another swing. Harder.
“Stupid-!”
Her mud-slicked running shoes slipped underneath her some, reminding her slightly of her bruised leg. All the pain was dulled by adrenaline, and fear, and… and… determination? Who cares? She just wanted this over with, and she’d go back to Saachi, and- and- just end this.
Kyran heard it.
Heard the bone crunching sound. The sound of K.K's skull cracking, scratch that, shattering, as he held her, as Michael Crowe crushed her facial construct into little itty bitty pieces, denting her face inward to literal mush, as if sucked into a drain-hole of clay and red paint, with a gigantic megaton punch.
It was no longer struggling, no longer fighting back or moving. It, K.K, Gun Girl, went limp like a ragdoll and Kyran relaxed for a brief second, tossing her limp corpse, to the ground, to the side.
As he did, Kyran felt himself woozy again, swaying, his sight still debilitated by the flash, everywhere else, lacking of energy, light-headed from the injury.
Through it all, he saw Michael sway as well, right in front of him, from where K.K had been seconds ago. Michael fell forward and he reached out, arms open, ready to steady. But he couldn't. They both fell. Michael rolled off, to his side, as they laid side by side.
Kyran grunted as he looked at K.K's ugly, messed up, face-less visage once again and pushed her corpse away, rolling it off the downward slope into the bank.
Something else was happening not too far away, Scarlett, Chuck, were attempting to fend off Miranda, but Kyran felt too powerless to do anything else. The last adrenaline drained from him. He reached out to his AK and tried to lift it, succeeding but only feebly.
He squeezed the trigger, but only empty clicks remained, escaped. He was out of ammo and too weak to reload.
Kyran sighed, dropping the gun, unsteadily to the ground. He watched Scarlett and Chuck. Confident they could handle the gun-less Miranda, stop her from causing anymore harm, keep her subdued until a potential rescue would come. She would face the consequences of her actions sooner than later, he was sure of it. Then he looked at the laying Michael Crowe, prone, energy-less Michael Crowe.
"Smiley face, huh."
Kyran smirked, blood dripping down his bottom lip, from the inside, as he thought of the fiery pattern Michael Crowe had secretly made them all create. He gazed back at the sky.
"Whatever."
Heard the bone crunching sound. The sound of K.K's skull cracking, scratch that, shattering, as he held her, as Michael Crowe crushed her facial construct into little itty bitty pieces, denting her face inward to literal mush, as if sucked into a drain-hole of clay and red paint, with a gigantic megaton punch.
It was no longer struggling, no longer fighting back or moving. It, K.K, Gun Girl, went limp like a ragdoll and Kyran relaxed for a brief second, tossing her limp corpse, to the ground, to the side.
As he did, Kyran felt himself woozy again, swaying, his sight still debilitated by the flash, everywhere else, lacking of energy, light-headed from the injury.
Through it all, he saw Michael sway as well, right in front of him, from where K.K had been seconds ago. Michael fell forward and he reached out, arms open, ready to steady. But he couldn't. They both fell. Michael rolled off, to his side, as they laid side by side.
Kyran grunted as he looked at K.K's ugly, messed up, face-less visage once again and pushed her corpse away, rolling it off the downward slope into the bank.
Something else was happening not too far away, Scarlett, Chuck, were attempting to fend off Miranda, but Kyran felt too powerless to do anything else. The last adrenaline drained from him. He reached out to his AK and tried to lift it, succeeding but only feebly.
He squeezed the trigger, but only empty clicks remained, escaped. He was out of ammo and too weak to reload.
Kyran sighed, dropping the gun, unsteadily to the ground. He watched Scarlett and Chuck. Confident they could handle the gun-less Miranda, stop her from causing anymore harm, keep her subdued until a potential rescue would come. She would face the consequences of her actions sooner than later, he was sure of it. Then he looked at the laying Michael Crowe, prone, energy-less Michael Crowe.
"Smiley face, huh."
Kyran smirked, blood dripping down his bottom lip, from the inside, as he thought of the fiery pattern Michael Crowe had secretly made them all create. He gazed back at the sky.
"Whatever."
Michael grinned as he pulled his fist out of the sludge that used to be KK's head, stumbling back. He shook the pain out of his hand, his head tilted up. That's it, he thought. She was done, finished for sure. After everything, that's all it took. A hundred damn punches didn't do it, lighting her ass on fire didn't do it, leaving her to burn to death or suffocate in the smoke or whatever didn't do it.
One punch was all he needed in the end. Maybe he just didn't hit her hard enough earlier, or maybe she was on her last legs anyways. Maybe that was it. Maybe she was just so worn down and beaten that all it took was that last bit of effort to finish her. Who knows really? Did it matter? Maybe it did before, but not now. It was too late now. They did it. They finished her. Thank you, Kyran.
Now, she was sure as shit not getting back up, she was deader than dead...
Michael's legs quaked in their boots underneath him. Then again, so was he. Michael brought his hand to the wound in his chest, before he stumbled forward into Kyran's arms. Kyran didn't have too long either, they were in the same boat as the two of them fell over, their legs giving out.
Michael laid motionless on the ground, head facing the sky, using what energy he had left to focus on breathing his last breaths. It was a funny feeling to know it was all over soon. He couldn't go into denial, he couldn't pretend everything was okay. He couldn't just say "You know, maybe I'll wake up tomorrow." There was no changing this, and the worst part was that he knew that. He can see it coming, and there was nothing he could do to stop it... Worst part was, he knew exactly why he was doomed.
"Can't be... Can't be happening."
It didn't hurt anymore. The pain was gone. The permanent aches, the dentist drills that embedded themselves in his nerves were gone, and now he couldn't feel any of what he'd experienced since he got here. That same pain that drove him, that gave him the determination to prove the terrorists, and their slaves wrong, that same pain that gave him his very life, the same pain that told him he was still alive. It was gone, all gone. It might've only been a week since before this happened, but to Michael it felt like an eternity since then. Sure, he was desensitized to it, numbed by it, but it was always there, it was always a reminder of how bad things were, and how they'd get better if he fought back. With it gone was the chance that things were getting better. This was the end, and there was nothing he, nor Kyran, nor Chuck, or Scarlett, or any would-be rescuer could do to stop it.
"Not us... Why?"
Wanna know what was even worse than the fact the pain was gone? The fact that it all felt pleasant at this point. There was nothing prodding him, nagging at him, pushing him to get angry, to lash back. He hated that more than anything. He wanted to go out, lashing and clawing and screaming, and KK didn't even put up enough of a fight to give him that! She had the ignominy to die right she got in her two lucky hits on Kyran and him! There was nothing left he could do, nobody to take it out on, he was too weak to get up by this point to help Chuck or Scarlett. He was dying, he was useless now.
"W-wasn' fair..."
He stared blankly at the sky as Kyran spoke to him. Just three words was all it took. Three goddamn words and it sent waves of emotions through Michael's very core. It was the punchline to the funniest joke in the world. Someone caught on... Goddamnit someone realized just what the whole thing was. Of course it would've been Kyran. That meant he probably knew the real reason for it then. In a way, he had to feel bad about lying to them for the reasons of doing all of this, and he never expected any of them to realize what the plan was, but Kyran put it together. He knew that they would've been going home soon then, that if someone on this island could realize it, then so could someone away from it could. Someone up above in some plane or satellite or space ship, or... or just some asshole looking at Google maps or something!
Kyran was the only person to know his secret, his end game, and now that secret was going to the grave with both of them. Wasn't that funny? Michael thought it was funny. He laughed. It started as a chuckle, then burned into full hysterics. He laughed, and laughed, and laughed some more, then laughed until it hurt. It was funny, too funny...
It was so funny his laughter broke into quiet sobs. The pain that had left him as he fell came back in full force, trading physical aches for realizations. This wasn't fair. This wasn't funny, this wasn't funny at all! All the shit they been through, all the times they lucked out, the times they survived the worse this island had to offer, and now this was it!? They were so close! Michael rolled to the side to face away from Kyran. He didn't want to see him like this. He curled up, as he tried to speak. "T-this isn't fair... We were so close! W-why'd this have to happen to us? Why us? Why couldn't have been...Fuck! After everything, it's just... it's just over like that?"
Truth be told, it was bullshit of him to say he wanted to go down fighting. He didn't want to go down at all, he didn't want to die period. I mean yeah, if he absolutely had to die for something, sure, he can get that! But he didn't have to die, Kyran didn't have to die. It wasn't fair for either of them! Both of them went to the brink of death and back before, and they stopped it, they fought back... Now it didn't matter though, they couldn't fight back, there was nothing left either of them can do, they had no choice in the matter.
Now, after everything that's happened. After helping Everett grab his stuff, after giving Blaine a second chance after he tried to kill him, after his mistake that costed Everett his innocence, and Aaron his life, he was doomed.
After surviving a night of Blaine's torment, only for Simon to give his life to save him, to tell him to spend his life to helping others, after helping to mend Maxwell's injuries, after dragging Kyran across the island to revive him, after finding Scarlett again only to realize Everett died somewhere and Michael never even got a chance to apologize to him.
After bringing everyone together for a plan that could or couldn't work, after he got ambushed by KK, after he gave up his own arm to finish her, and that wasn't even enough because she just followed him back and got him and Kyran killed. After everything, it was over, just like that.
It was all his fault that they were dying really. He only had himself to blame for the fact that he just got himself and his best friend killed. He wanted to play hero and now look where it got him. Well, you got what you wanted didn't you? You played hero. The day is saved, whoop-de-fucking-do Superman! Now what? How you gonna get yourself out of this? How are you gonna get Kyran out of this, huh? You can't... Plain and simple. You fucked up, you own up to it. Life isn't a movie, and you just realized that shit too late you fucking idiot.
"Oh God, Kyran... I fucked up. It was... It was my fault... I should of... I shoulda made sure she was..."
Michael curled up, trying his hardest to hide his face from the world, to hide his shame. Why wasn't he dead yet? Why couldn't it just hurry up and... be over. He was done, right? What was keeping him here? Why'd it have to take so long to bleed out?
Fate just had a way of fucking with him didn't it?
One punch was all he needed in the end. Maybe he just didn't hit her hard enough earlier, or maybe she was on her last legs anyways. Maybe that was it. Maybe she was just so worn down and beaten that all it took was that last bit of effort to finish her. Who knows really? Did it matter? Maybe it did before, but not now. It was too late now. They did it. They finished her. Thank you, Kyran.
Now, she was sure as shit not getting back up, she was deader than dead...
Michael's legs quaked in their boots underneath him. Then again, so was he. Michael brought his hand to the wound in his chest, before he stumbled forward into Kyran's arms. Kyran didn't have too long either, they were in the same boat as the two of them fell over, their legs giving out.
Michael laid motionless on the ground, head facing the sky, using what energy he had left to focus on breathing his last breaths. It was a funny feeling to know it was all over soon. He couldn't go into denial, he couldn't pretend everything was okay. He couldn't just say "You know, maybe I'll wake up tomorrow." There was no changing this, and the worst part was that he knew that. He can see it coming, and there was nothing he could do to stop it... Worst part was, he knew exactly why he was doomed.
"Can't be... Can't be happening."
It didn't hurt anymore. The pain was gone. The permanent aches, the dentist drills that embedded themselves in his nerves were gone, and now he couldn't feel any of what he'd experienced since he got here. That same pain that drove him, that gave him the determination to prove the terrorists, and their slaves wrong, that same pain that gave him his very life, the same pain that told him he was still alive. It was gone, all gone. It might've only been a week since before this happened, but to Michael it felt like an eternity since then. Sure, he was desensitized to it, numbed by it, but it was always there, it was always a reminder of how bad things were, and how they'd get better if he fought back. With it gone was the chance that things were getting better. This was the end, and there was nothing he, nor Kyran, nor Chuck, or Scarlett, or any would-be rescuer could do to stop it.
"Not us... Why?"
Wanna know what was even worse than the fact the pain was gone? The fact that it all felt pleasant at this point. There was nothing prodding him, nagging at him, pushing him to get angry, to lash back. He hated that more than anything. He wanted to go out, lashing and clawing and screaming, and KK didn't even put up enough of a fight to give him that! She had the ignominy to die right she got in her two lucky hits on Kyran and him! There was nothing left he could do, nobody to take it out on, he was too weak to get up by this point to help Chuck or Scarlett. He was dying, he was useless now.
"W-wasn' fair..."
He stared blankly at the sky as Kyran spoke to him. Just three words was all it took. Three goddamn words and it sent waves of emotions through Michael's very core. It was the punchline to the funniest joke in the world. Someone caught on... Goddamnit someone realized just what the whole thing was. Of course it would've been Kyran. That meant he probably knew the real reason for it then. In a way, he had to feel bad about lying to them for the reasons of doing all of this, and he never expected any of them to realize what the plan was, but Kyran put it together. He knew that they would've been going home soon then, that if someone on this island could realize it, then so could someone away from it could. Someone up above in some plane or satellite or space ship, or... or just some asshole looking at Google maps or something!
Kyran was the only person to know his secret, his end game, and now that secret was going to the grave with both of them. Wasn't that funny? Michael thought it was funny. He laughed. It started as a chuckle, then burned into full hysterics. He laughed, and laughed, and laughed some more, then laughed until it hurt. It was funny, too funny...
It was so funny his laughter broke into quiet sobs. The pain that had left him as he fell came back in full force, trading physical aches for realizations. This wasn't fair. This wasn't funny, this wasn't funny at all! All the shit they been through, all the times they lucked out, the times they survived the worse this island had to offer, and now this was it!? They were so close! Michael rolled to the side to face away from Kyran. He didn't want to see him like this. He curled up, as he tried to speak. "T-this isn't fair... We were so close! W-why'd this have to happen to us? Why us? Why couldn't have been...Fuck! After everything, it's just... it's just over like that?"
Truth be told, it was bullshit of him to say he wanted to go down fighting. He didn't want to go down at all, he didn't want to die period. I mean yeah, if he absolutely had to die for something, sure, he can get that! But he didn't have to die, Kyran didn't have to die. It wasn't fair for either of them! Both of them went to the brink of death and back before, and they stopped it, they fought back... Now it didn't matter though, they couldn't fight back, there was nothing left either of them can do, they had no choice in the matter.
Now, after everything that's happened. After helping Everett grab his stuff, after giving Blaine a second chance after he tried to kill him, after his mistake that costed Everett his innocence, and Aaron his life, he was doomed.
After surviving a night of Blaine's torment, only for Simon to give his life to save him, to tell him to spend his life to helping others, after helping to mend Maxwell's injuries, after dragging Kyran across the island to revive him, after finding Scarlett again only to realize Everett died somewhere and Michael never even got a chance to apologize to him.
After bringing everyone together for a plan that could or couldn't work, after he got ambushed by KK, after he gave up his own arm to finish her, and that wasn't even enough because she just followed him back and got him and Kyran killed. After everything, it was over, just like that.
It was all his fault that they were dying really. He only had himself to blame for the fact that he just got himself and his best friend killed. He wanted to play hero and now look where it got him. Well, you got what you wanted didn't you? You played hero. The day is saved, whoop-de-fucking-do Superman! Now what? How you gonna get yourself out of this? How are you gonna get Kyran out of this, huh? You can't... Plain and simple. You fucked up, you own up to it. Life isn't a movie, and you just realized that shit too late you fucking idiot.
"Oh God, Kyran... I fucked up. It was... It was my fault... I should of... I shoulda made sure she was..."
Michael curled up, trying his hardest to hide his face from the world, to hide his shame. Why wasn't he dead yet? Why couldn't it just hurry up and... be over. He was done, right? What was keeping him here? Why'd it have to take so long to bleed out?
Fate just had a way of fucking with him didn't it?
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
An arm slowly went over Michael's shoulder, wrapping over the back of his neck, patting, shaking him in a supportive way, as they both laid on the grass, bleeding in the background, as the gunshots and clang of metal and steel on flesh continued in the foreground.
Kyran knew what was likely coming, but he had taken a course of acceptance a long time ago, at the bridge after Natali left. He had chosen to be fearless, that the odds for survival were against them. Every success or moment of hope was merely a bonus. The whole feeling of 'whatever' toward it all. As long as he did something, as long as he was able to do something that he could feel was meaningful, even if it was just in his own mind.
Save some lives.
Michael had saved lives, he had saved Kyran's life, when he was helplessly passed out and dehydrating. He also came up with a plan to help save everyone and by proxy, during this whole mission, Kyran had ended up saving some people for a while longer too. Like Tina Luz. Returning the favor by helping Michael from not dying, long enough to crack K.K in the dangerous triangle region of her skull.
"Aye bro, Cap'n Crowe," Kyran spoke through stilted breaths. "That was bad ass - even if we did just kill somebody. Don't fret. Just like then, I'm with you."
He was pleasantly content with what they managed to accomplish, even if it was temporary.
About how they:
"Saved some lives, took some crazies out, earned our ticket to the good place and got to spend a few days with some pals."
If he had to go right now, away from family, far away from Bella, that sandy brown Pomeranian of his, with the missing leg. All things considered. This wasn't too bad.
"We'll get through this together. No problem."
Kyran knew what was likely coming, but he had taken a course of acceptance a long time ago, at the bridge after Natali left. He had chosen to be fearless, that the odds for survival were against them. Every success or moment of hope was merely a bonus. The whole feeling of 'whatever' toward it all. As long as he did something, as long as he was able to do something that he could feel was meaningful, even if it was just in his own mind.
Save some lives.
Michael had saved lives, he had saved Kyran's life, when he was helplessly passed out and dehydrating. He also came up with a plan to help save everyone and by proxy, during this whole mission, Kyran had ended up saving some people for a while longer too. Like Tina Luz. Returning the favor by helping Michael from not dying, long enough to crack K.K in the dangerous triangle region of her skull.
"Aye bro, Cap'n Crowe," Kyran spoke through stilted breaths. "That was bad ass - even if we did just kill somebody. Don't fret. Just like then, I'm with you."
He was pleasantly content with what they managed to accomplish, even if it was temporary.
About how they:
"Saved some lives, took some crazies out, earned our ticket to the good place and got to spend a few days with some pals."
If he had to go right now, away from family, far away from Bella, that sandy brown Pomeranian of his, with the missing leg. All things considered. This wasn't too bad.
"We'll get through this together. No problem."
-
Primrosette
- Posts: 896
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 1:59 pm
- Location: In Her Dark Abyss
Scarlett had managed to hurt Miranda and she released her grip on the icepick. Thank you, Everett. Was all that Scarlett was thinking as she was losing her balance and she tried to control her balance by moving her body backwards.
Miranda was swinging at her with the tire iron again. But this time Scarlett was ready. To risk getting her free arm hurt to protect herself. It hurt as Miranda's hits were starting to hurt and bruise her arm more. But Scarlett didn't want her skull to get smashed in by Miranda
She had to do something to stop her. She had an idea of what to do. It might be a stupid idea but Scarlett was going to risk it.
She threw her gun right at Miranda's face.
Miranda was swinging at her with the tire iron again. But this time Scarlett was ready. To risk getting her free arm hurt to protect herself. It hurt as Miranda's hits were starting to hurt and bruise her arm more. But Scarlett didn't want her skull to get smashed in by Miranda
She had to do something to stop her. She had an idea of what to do. It might be a stupid idea but Scarlett was going to risk it.
She threw her gun right at Miranda's face.