((Luciano Ascensio continued from The Worst Kind of Tribute))
The world rushed past Luciano in a blur as he ran back the way he came, hardly thinking about where he was going. He was vaguely aware of someone behind him as he ascended the stairs to the deck of the cruise ship, but whether that was a real sensation, or just paranoia... he couldn't say.
It wasn't supposed to be this way. He had it planned out from the beginning, didn't he? He was the one who would outsmart his classmates, win this twisted game and then go home to build the life for himself that he had always wanted. He was the one with the ambition, the drive to escape from the web of secrets and lies enveloping his peers and rise to the top.
He was inside the ship now, swallowed by its entrance and descending deeper and deeper into its belly. Strange rumbling sounds surrounded him as he continued downward, the walls seemingly closing in behind him as his thoughts continued to torment him, leaving his body to carry him like a passenger down towards what could have been the centre of the earth for all he cared.
Everything was falling down, collapsing around him. He had spent his whole time on this island running from catastrophe to catastrophe, each time barely escaping not due to brilliant strategy but pure, dumb luck. What was wrong with him? Each passing day had resulted in him reaching a new level of stupidity, the increasing desperation corroding his faculties, leaving his mind to rust and decay while his life ticked away minute by minute.
Visions of the future he had dreamed for rose to his mind, slipping further from his grasp with each slam of his feet on the steps. They were soon replaced by images of unbuilt school buildings, the smiles of children painfully absent as the nation that he still considered his home slid ever further into poverty and despair.
After an eternity of running, he came to amidst a familiar sight, a location even more foreboding than the first time he had been there. His heart pounded in his chest as he stood frozen, surrounded by the scent of death, the theoretically secure location now little more than an abattoir, secluded deep within the bowels of the massive metal hulk which had stood imposingly against the horizon.
Luciano felt sick. No matter where he could go, there was nothing but death and destruction, a painful reminder of his own rapidly approaching demise. With nowhere else to run, he walked slowly forward, wandering zombie-like through the sinister halls, hoping to find at least some measure of solitude within the miasma of decay that surrounded him on all sides.
It All Fades Away
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Spindarene
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((Amanda Brooks continued from The Worst Kind of Tribute))
Amanda had no idea what was pulling her toward the boy, but she followed him like a magnet as he took her back to the cruise ship, down into its bowels this time. She felt a sick, terrible feeling rise within her as they'd approached the ship, as her mind visualized once again the image of Emmett's limp, floppy body falling into the sea. She felt the shock vibrations in her arms again and wrapped them around her abdomen, her face screwing up as she felt like was about to cry, but somehow she was able to remain quiet as she followed the boy into the ship.
She didn't know where he was going, and she didn't care. All she knew was that she had to stay with him. The alternative was too awful to even think about. As she followed him through the ship, she noticed the uncomfortable, shifty way he was moving. It was like he was trying to get away from her. That thought sent a jolt of panic through her, and she opened her mouth to speak.
"Um..." she cleared her throat, suddenly feeling very shy and self-conscious. "I'm not here to hurt you. I just don't want to be alone."
The truth popped out of her mouth unexpectedly, resulting in a warm, uncomfortable feeling of embarrassment that made her cheeks flush. She nervously tucked her hair behind one of her ears as she anxiously waited for him to respond.
Amanda had no idea what was pulling her toward the boy, but she followed him like a magnet as he took her back to the cruise ship, down into its bowels this time. She felt a sick, terrible feeling rise within her as they'd approached the ship, as her mind visualized once again the image of Emmett's limp, floppy body falling into the sea. She felt the shock vibrations in her arms again and wrapped them around her abdomen, her face screwing up as she felt like was about to cry, but somehow she was able to remain quiet as she followed the boy into the ship.
She didn't know where he was going, and she didn't care. All she knew was that she had to stay with him. The alternative was too awful to even think about. As she followed him through the ship, she noticed the uncomfortable, shifty way he was moving. It was like he was trying to get away from her. That thought sent a jolt of panic through her, and she opened her mouth to speak.
"Um..." she cleared her throat, suddenly feeling very shy and self-conscious. "I'm not here to hurt you. I just don't want to be alone."
The truth popped out of her mouth unexpectedly, resulting in a warm, uncomfortable feeling of embarrassment that made her cheeks flush. She nervously tucked her hair behind one of her ears as she anxiously waited for him to respond.
Luciano's eyes opened wide, almost surprising himself with how fast he turned around to face the voice. He hadn't expected Amanda to follow him all the way down here, though to be fair, as an impartial observer he wouldn't have expected himself to yet again descend that damned staircase either. It was clear at this point that logic no longer served as an explanation for why anyone did anything in this place.
He stared at the girl for a moment, wondering what to say. There was no escaping loneliness here, no matter how hard one could try. The bonds of friendship were weak enough even when death wasn't on the line, and now there was obviously only one person who you could trust - yourself. To desire otherwise was simply absurd.
But... wasn't that what he had brought him to this place the first time? There was no reason for him to have gotten himself entangled in whatever Gabby and Elliot had going on, no matter what excuses he had made for it at the time. It was ironic, in a way, that after years of standing on the sidelines and convincing himself that nobody else was worth his time, he would compromise his own safety to secure a break from his solitary wandering.
That said, his capacity for empathy did have its limits. What was this, the third time that he had been stuck in an underwater hallway with girl wielding a gun? Recent experience had made it abundantly clear that such a situation was unlikely to turn out well for him. Unfortunately, neither of his past encounters provided a clear exit strategy for this one. That was the unfair thing about life, each problem being different enough to prevent you from taking advantage of the lessons you learned from your previous mistakes.
Everything about this was just so confusing, and no amount of analysis could possibly give him any magic words to make the conversation go favourably. Forcing himself to push through the sea of helplessness that had overwhelmed him, he spoke in a defeated tone, exhaustion overwhelming any other emotion he could have put into it.
"I..."
He took a deep breath, his mind's eye briefly flashing back to his encounter with Amy all those days ago.
"I've heard that one before."
He stared at the girl for a moment, wondering what to say. There was no escaping loneliness here, no matter how hard one could try. The bonds of friendship were weak enough even when death wasn't on the line, and now there was obviously only one person who you could trust - yourself. To desire otherwise was simply absurd.
But... wasn't that what he had brought him to this place the first time? There was no reason for him to have gotten himself entangled in whatever Gabby and Elliot had going on, no matter what excuses he had made for it at the time. It was ironic, in a way, that after years of standing on the sidelines and convincing himself that nobody else was worth his time, he would compromise his own safety to secure a break from his solitary wandering.
That said, his capacity for empathy did have its limits. What was this, the third time that he had been stuck in an underwater hallway with girl wielding a gun? Recent experience had made it abundantly clear that such a situation was unlikely to turn out well for him. Unfortunately, neither of his past encounters provided a clear exit strategy for this one. That was the unfair thing about life, each problem being different enough to prevent you from taking advantage of the lessons you learned from your previous mistakes.
Everything about this was just so confusing, and no amount of analysis could possibly give him any magic words to make the conversation go favourably. Forcing himself to push through the sea of helplessness that had overwhelmed him, he spoke in a defeated tone, exhaustion overwhelming any other emotion he could have put into it.
"I..."
He took a deep breath, his mind's eye briefly flashing back to his encounter with Amy all those days ago.
"I've heard that one before."
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Applesintime
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((Anthony Golden continued from All Cats Are Grey))
Right, sorry to interrupt their little rendezvous or whatever the hell they were doing, but Anthony had bigger concerns than breaking up a reunion. Amanda Brooks. Player. Murderer of Emmett Purcell. And Luciano Ascencio. Not a player, no kills. Yet here he was, happily talking to a player like they were best buddies. As far as Anthony was concerned, it was just like Elliott. If you have no concern about hanging around a player, then you're a player. Simple as.
At the moment, Anthony was pressed up behind the corner of a wall, next to a turn in the maze of hallways, eavesdropping on the two. If he popped out from behind the wall, looked down the turn, the two players would be in his sights. Pull the trigger, kill one, and as the other runs, pull the bolt back, pray to the Lord the thing doesn't fucking jam again, slam it back in and pull the trigger again. Two players dead. Equalise with Seo-yun. Avenge Emmett. Show players the fate of them all.
He took a deep breath. Prayed in his head. Readied himself, and then popped out from behind the wall, the near-silent sound of the De Lisle firing his introduction.
Right, sorry to interrupt their little rendezvous or whatever the hell they were doing, but Anthony had bigger concerns than breaking up a reunion. Amanda Brooks. Player. Murderer of Emmett Purcell. And Luciano Ascencio. Not a player, no kills. Yet here he was, happily talking to a player like they were best buddies. As far as Anthony was concerned, it was just like Elliott. If you have no concern about hanging around a player, then you're a player. Simple as.
At the moment, Anthony was pressed up behind the corner of a wall, next to a turn in the maze of hallways, eavesdropping on the two. If he popped out from behind the wall, looked down the turn, the two players would be in his sights. Pull the trigger, kill one, and as the other runs, pull the bolt back, pray to the Lord the thing doesn't fucking jam again, slam it back in and pull the trigger again. Two players dead. Equalise with Seo-yun. Avenge Emmett. Show players the fate of them all.
He took a deep breath. Prayed in his head. Readied himself, and then popped out from behind the wall, the near-silent sound of the De Lisle firing his introduction.
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Spindarene
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Amanda's feelings were hurt slightly by the boy's reply and more blood rushed to her cheeks. She felt humiliated that she'd been honest about her feelings, for once, and that she had actually expected some comfort from this stranger. She didn't know this boy at all, she didn't even remember his name, but somehow, she felt connected to him and had wanted him to feel the same way about her.
She opened her mouth to say something--what, she didn't know--but she was interrupted by the sudden gunfire that erupted in their direction from a boy down the hall that she hadn't seen. She jumped in surprise and ducked, then quickly--almost on instinct--dropped her bag, stood up, steadied her gun, and fired back.
She opened her mouth to say something--what, she didn't know--but she was interrupted by the sudden gunfire that erupted in their direction from a boy down the hall that she hadn't seen. She jumped in surprise and ducked, then quickly--almost on instinct--dropped her bag, stood up, steadied her gun, and fired back.
The next several seconds were little more than a blur for Luciano as the unmistakable crack of gunfire filled the little space remaining in the hallway. He looked to the right, then to the left, before his eyes settled on the inviting sight of a door that was just slightly ajar. Ducking his head, the young man dove for the opening, nearly tripping over himself as he crossed the threshold.
The momentary safety of the location was of little comfort for him as he straightened up, surveying his surroundings under the flickering fluorescent light emanating from the ceiling. Just like the hallway outside, the room was full of crates, the purpose for which being a mystery that he didn't have the time nor inclination to consider at this particular moment in his life.
What was of interest, however, was the fact that the door through which he had entered was in fact not the only way into the room. Just ahead, he could see another identical door, closed this time, with no porthole to indicate what lay on the other side. Luciano took a deep breath, taking a moment to switch his sword to his other hand while he wiped the sweaty palm onto his pants. Whatever he would see there, it was surely better than where he had just been. Gripping the weapon tightly in his hand, he strode over to the new exit and began to slowly and quietly push it open.
The momentary safety of the location was of little comfort for him as he straightened up, surveying his surroundings under the flickering fluorescent light emanating from the ceiling. Just like the hallway outside, the room was full of crates, the purpose for which being a mystery that he didn't have the time nor inclination to consider at this particular moment in his life.
What was of interest, however, was the fact that the door through which he had entered was in fact not the only way into the room. Just ahead, he could see another identical door, closed this time, with no porthole to indicate what lay on the other side. Luciano took a deep breath, taking a moment to switch his sword to his other hand while he wiped the sweaty palm onto his pants. Whatever he would see there, it was surely better than where he had just been. Gripping the weapon tightly in his hand, he strode over to the new exit and began to slowly and quietly push it open.
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Applesintime
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He missed. This didn't entirely surprise Anthony, as he hadn't had time to aim. Luciano scattered, throwing a door open and running inside. Anthony didn't have to worry about him. Amanda, however, produced a machine gun, and he had only taken cover back behind the wall when a burst of gunfire erupted, sending sparks flying as bullets hit the metal wall, passing through where he had been standing a few seconds ago. Cursing, Anthony racked the bolt. He hadn't intended to get into a gunfight, but better a gunfight than being shot in the back.
Anthony wasn't going to peek around the corner, let himself get shot, so he pushed the De Lisle around the corner, holding it in an awkward way and firing in Amanda's general direction. He was almost certain that it wasn't going to hit anything at all, what with the lack of aiming and having no idea where Amanda was, but it was better than nothing.
Anthony wasn't going to peek around the corner, let himself get shot, so he pushed the De Lisle around the corner, holding it in an awkward way and firing in Amanda's general direction. He was almost certain that it wasn't going to hit anything at all, what with the lack of aiming and having no idea where Amanda was, but it was better than nothing.
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Spindarene
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Amanda didn't use all of her bullets this time. She felt almost as if someone else had taken control, someone who was calm and methodical, machine-like and cold. After firing her first round of bullets, she backed away from the direction of her assailant and bumped into a crate behind her. She hid behind it as best she could to survey the hallway. Luciano was nowhere to be seen, and neither was her attacker. Then, she heard gunfire coming at her from behind a wall and saw something long and black poking out at her from behind a corner. She aimed her own gun in its general direction and fired a few more rounds, although she was pretty sure that most of those hit the wall.
The door slid open at an agonizingly slow pace, its weight much heavier than one would have thought on first glance. Once the gap between the door and the wall had opened wide enough, Luciano stuck his head through... only for his gaze to be met by the back of the guy who had just been shooting at him a couple minutes before.
Luciano's breath caught in his throat as he stared forward, wide-eyed. In retrospect, it should have been obvious where the exit would have taken him, given its position relative to the door he had entered from. He could feel heart pounding in his chest as the seconds ticked by, the explosive sound of gunshots continuing to reverberate in the air. He turned to look in the other direction, down the hallway. Maybe if he made a run for it, he'd be able to turn the corner before Anthony could get his bearings and fire any shots in reaction...
No. It was too much of a gamble, and besides, he had spent way too much of his time here running away again and again. His knuckles whitened as he tightened his hold on his sword. This was his chance, to save himself and get the kill he needed and trade up for a better weapon. If he was going to survive the endgame, he couldn't just rely on luck to avoid getting shot like he had in the past. Nobody could fault him for preserving his life by stabbing the guy who had just tried to shoot him, right?
He looked back at Anthony, trying his best to keep his breathing under control as he opened the door the rest of the way. There was no room to mess this up. That was a pretty long gun, fairly useless in close quarters combat. As long as he closed the distance in time, he'd effectively be the only one in this tussle with a weapon. With that plan taken care of, he opened the door the rest of the way, stepped out into the hallway, and charged towards his assailant, sword at the ready.
Luciano's breath caught in his throat as he stared forward, wide-eyed. In retrospect, it should have been obvious where the exit would have taken him, given its position relative to the door he had entered from. He could feel heart pounding in his chest as the seconds ticked by, the explosive sound of gunshots continuing to reverberate in the air. He turned to look in the other direction, down the hallway. Maybe if he made a run for it, he'd be able to turn the corner before Anthony could get his bearings and fire any shots in reaction...
No. It was too much of a gamble, and besides, he had spent way too much of his time here running away again and again. His knuckles whitened as he tightened his hold on his sword. This was his chance, to save himself and get the kill he needed and trade up for a better weapon. If he was going to survive the endgame, he couldn't just rely on luck to avoid getting shot like he had in the past. Nobody could fault him for preserving his life by stabbing the guy who had just tried to shoot him, right?
He looked back at Anthony, trying his best to keep his breathing under control as he opened the door the rest of the way. There was no room to mess this up. That was a pretty long gun, fairly useless in close quarters combat. As long as he closed the distance in time, he'd effectively be the only one in this tussle with a weapon. With that plan taken care of, he opened the door the rest of the way, stepped out into the hallway, and charged towards his assailant, sword at the ready.
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Applesintime
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"Shit, shit, shit." Anthony had no desire to get into a gunfight, especially when everyone else outclassed him. God knows where Luciano went. He could be on the other side of the cruise ship right now, or still in that dinky little room. Amanda had the advantage by far; he could get out one shot and then he had to put a new bullet in, where all she had to do was pull the trigger and a few bullets would come flying out. He could circle around, maybe try and get a flank on her. Racking the bolt, Anthony fired another shot around the corner, and then turned around, intending to-
Oh. That's where Luciano went.
As Luciano charged at him, bringing the katana down, Anthony raised the De Lisle, gripping it with both hands to block the sword, trying to push him back towards the room Luciano had emerged from.
Oh. That's where Luciano went.
As Luciano charged at him, bringing the katana down, Anthony raised the De Lisle, gripping it with both hands to block the sword, trying to push him back towards the room Luciano had emerged from.
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Spindarene
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Amanda ducked as the boy shot at her again, and she heard the bullet go into the wall a couple feet away from where her head had been. She held her gun ready, crouching, waiting.
But the boy didn't reappear. Her first thought was that he was gone, but that seemed too good to be true. Her ears were ringing from the gunfire, so it took her a few moments to hear the sounds of a scuffle taking place behind the other wall. She didn't know what was happening, so she kept her gun clutched in her hands and her eyes fixed on the wall.
But the boy didn't reappear. Her first thought was that he was gone, but that seemed too good to be true. Her ears were ringing from the gunfire, so it took her a few moments to hear the sounds of a scuffle taking place behind the other wall. She didn't know what was happening, so she kept her gun clutched in her hands and her eyes fixed on the wall.
Luciano struggled to hold his position against the much stronger boy, his heart sinking as the quick kill he had envisioned became more and more of an impossibility. With every second, his feet slipped further back in the direction from which he had came, the result of a contest of strength which he was continuing to lose. His muscles strained as his weapon pressed against his opponent's, both of them reduced to little more than clubs in this position.
Every so often it felt like he managed to win a step or two forward, only for his gains to be erased shortly after. His face reddened with exertion as he felt himself approaching the still open door behind him. Maybe if he moved a bit faster, he could take Anthony by surprise... It was a gamble, but the only chance he had at that point. Slackening his grip, he began to allow himself to move backward, creating a bit of distance between their two weapons that he began to use to slowly maneuver the pointed end of the curved blade behind the other boy's defenses.
Every so often it felt like he managed to win a step or two forward, only for his gains to be erased shortly after. His face reddened with exertion as he felt himself approaching the still open door behind him. Maybe if he moved a bit faster, he could take Anthony by surprise... It was a gamble, but the only chance he had at that point. Slackening his grip, he began to allow himself to move backward, creating a bit of distance between their two weapons that he began to use to slowly maneuver the pointed end of the curved blade behind the other boy's defenses.
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Applesintime
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They approached the room where Luciano had emerged from in his murderous quest, struggling against each other for control, for a chance to kill the other. Anthony’s arms burnt with exertion, but he was winning this struggle. Luciano would not be allowed to go on, to murder. And soon, they were in the room itself, full of crates. What were in the bloody things? Probably nothing, but he had more pressing matters to attend to.
Luciano had started to step back, seemingly trying to retreat, gain some ground, and Anthony continued pressing the attack, almost oblivious until the last second, when he realised what he was doing with the sword; trying to hook it past his rifle so he could get a stab in. He didn’t much fancy getting stabbed in the stomach or whatever by a big sword, so he did the first thing that came to mind: thrusting his knee up between Luciano’s legs.
No longer would he be kicked in the balls. He’d be the one doing the fucking kicking from now on.
Luciano had started to step back, seemingly trying to retreat, gain some ground, and Anthony continued pressing the attack, almost oblivious until the last second, when he realised what he was doing with the sword; trying to hook it past his rifle so he could get a stab in. He didn’t much fancy getting stabbed in the stomach or whatever by a big sword, so he did the first thing that came to mind: thrusting his knee up between Luciano’s legs.
No longer would he be kicked in the balls. He’d be the one doing the fucking kicking from now on.
Luciano let out a howl as blinding pain shot through his groin, all other thoughts pushed to the side by that pressing concern. His fingers loosened their grip on his sword, not enough to drop it but enough to have let all of his manoeuvring go to waste as it was seemingly effortlessly pushed back. Nausea surged through his body, bringing him nearly to the point of vomiting as he expended nearly all of his effort to avoid dropping to the ground while he was slowly yet surely herded backwards through the doorway.
The sudden change of scenery was enough to pull him far enough out of the fog of pain to realize how bad of a situation he was in. His vision swam as he yet again tried to push back, doing his best to gather what strength he had while avoiding emptying the contents of his stomach onto his attacker. In desperation, he attempted the same reach around that he had tried earlier, though this time without any trace of subtlety. It was an awful decision, he knew, but retaliating with a kick of his own was out of the question while every movement of his legs still brought a fresh wave of agony.
The sudden change of scenery was enough to pull him far enough out of the fog of pain to realize how bad of a situation he was in. His vision swam as he yet again tried to push back, doing his best to gather what strength he had while avoiding emptying the contents of his stomach onto his attacker. In desperation, he attempted the same reach around that he had tried earlier, though this time without any trace of subtlety. It was an awful decision, he knew, but retaliating with a kick of his own was out of the question while every movement of his legs still brought a fresh wave of agony.
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Applesintime
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Making a split-second decision, Anthony dropped the De Lisle after batting Luciano's sword away from his general direction. His left hand reached out to wrap itself around Luciano's hand, pulling at a finger, twisting and pulling it until either it snapped or Luciano let go of the sword. Pulling himself closer to Luciano, Anthony's right hand fumbled into his pocket, pulled out the glass shiv, and stabbed it into Luciano's stomach, once, twice, thrice, over and over until he heard the sword clatter to the ground, felt Luciano's balance fading, stabbed him one last time, twisted the knife for more damage and watched as Luciano collapsed to the ground, blood leaking rapidly from his wound. He wasn't long for this world. That made six.
Shoving the bloody shiv into his pocket, Anthony scrambled to grab his De Lisle, keeping an eye on the door. It was a lot different from his first kill with the shiv. That had been simple, not just so violent and brutal. But he could hear Luciano's breath shooting out from his mouth as he stabbed him that first time, the squelch as his flesh was ripped apart by the shiv, feel the still-warm blood on his hand. He didn't know how he felt about that. Aiming the rifle at Luciano, Anthony determined he wasn't a threat. But he was going to stay just a second longer. Maybe Amanda would have went to investigate his previous position, and he'd walk out into a hail of bullets. Best to wait.
Shoving the bloody shiv into his pocket, Anthony scrambled to grab his De Lisle, keeping an eye on the door. It was a lot different from his first kill with the shiv. That had been simple, not just so violent and brutal. But he could hear Luciano's breath shooting out from his mouth as he stabbed him that first time, the squelch as his flesh was ripped apart by the shiv, feel the still-warm blood on his hand. He didn't know how he felt about that. Aiming the rifle at Luciano, Anthony determined he wasn't a threat. But he was going to stay just a second longer. Maybe Amanda would have went to investigate his previous position, and he'd walk out into a hail of bullets. Best to wait.