((Marcus Redder, Angie Hart, and Jaxon Street continued from Get Out of the Kitchen))
They hadn’t been planning to stop off at the Daycare Centre, but when the latest announcements cut through the air Marcus had directed the trio there, knowing that the building would be empty when they arrived. He didn’t want to be alone, wanted to have allies securely around him, and encountering anybody would jeopardise the cocoon of safety he’d been knitting around himself. And if the latest tally of murderers and murdered was anything to go by, then he needed to keep Angie and Jaxon by his side even firmer than ever. More people had slipped to the level of killing, more people than he’d ever thought possible. Jewel thrice more, Pia, Corin, all of them friends and all of them just as tainted as he was.
He tried telling himself that his name would be swallowed up by all the others, that soon people would forget what he’d done and maybe they wouldn’t hate him or leave him, but it didn’t work. The optimism he’d once been brimming with was gone, and no amount of trying would bring it back. Any positive thoughts he tried to implant were washed away as quickly as they gave, swept back by a tide of paranoia and fear that he’d be left alone. He needed Angie and Jaxon to stay with him, and he’d do everything he could to ensure that they did. It was all he had now, the only goal that he could focus on. He didn’t want to die, but even if he got back home what would there be for him? His family wouldn’t love him anymore, he knew that much. They’d always pledged loyalty to each other and that family would always come first, but would that have changed when they saw their son stab an innocent girl in the throat?
Marcus tried telling himself that it wouldn’t, that they’d love him all the same, but it didn’t work.
As they entered the Daycare Centre, they were greeted with the sight of a pair of bodies lying near one of the room’s ball pits, bloodied and broken by whomever had taken their lives. He immediately forced his eyes away from them, blotting the image out of his mind as best he could, thankful that he didn’t know their names but horrified that knowing them wouldn’t have made any difference.
Marcus breathed deeply as they turned away from the corpses and retreated to a safe distance, immersing himself in the building’s layout as Jaxon and Angie made themselves comfortable. The Centre’s interior was just as sunny as its outside, dotted with multicoloured chairs and toys, with a softly padded floor underfoot. It was a nice change from the salon, which had seemed a safe enough shelter at the time but paled in comparison to the sheer warmth the Daycare brought him. Keeping up his sunny disposition was going to be a lot easier if he was surrounded by brightness.
He plopped himself down on a soft fuchsia beanbag, smiling throughout the needles of pain that prickled throughout his leg as he did so.
“Gosh, people are really being sad about this whole business, huh?” He said, nestling further into his seat. “I wish everybody could just... be happy, y’know?”
He was only vaguely aware of how inappropriate his words were, but how else could you keep being bubbly when discussing your friends’ deaths?
Balls Deep
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SansaSaver
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Jaxon was fully aware though, and to be completely honest it was only the tip of the iceburg.
It was becoming more and more obvious by each fleeting second he wasted with Marcus and Angie that this wasn't how it was supposed to work out for him. He'd imagined finding a small group of people to stick with, like they did every season. He'd imagined sticking with them until he found his actual friends, the ones who were still alive and kicking, and he stuck it with them until someone dared asked the question of "What Now?" and it all fell apart. He didn't want it to. But that scenario, the only scenario he'd thought of when the more morbid ones weren't an option, was reliant on one thing - having his friends.
He hadn't run into any of them. He'd run into Isabel yesterday, a few days ago, who he knew, and Damian, who he loathed, and the latter was dead. Everyone else he hadn't found. Or he had no fucking idea who they were. He didn't have any reason to care about Leah, who was dead now, and he didn't have any reason to care about these two backwards backwoods losers. Jaxon gave them a shot but they were as out of orbit with him as the planet Venus with Saturn. Their concerns about life and friends were just so basic. They had no ambition beyond their pointless little lives, wheras Jaxon aimed for goddamn Andromeda.
He was quickly running out of patience for both of them. Angie less so, Marcus more so. He, especially, was becoming off-putting now.
Jaxon adjusted his crossed legs as he sat by the bodies of the ball pit. Had he any less concern for his safety and were this not a game of death, he would have just fallen backwards and lounged in the ball extravaganza. But as Lisa's body rested by his feet he thought over once again the fact that he shouldn't be stuck with two people he could fake that he cared about the well-being of, but the fact of the matter being that he had no idea who they were and the life and well-being of people he loved and wanted to live mattered more to him than they did. He wasn't going to outright say that, but that was really the gist of the situation here.
He was on the edge now. He handled well on his own for all that time before he ran into them, he knew that he could handle it on his own once more. All he needed was one more excuse and he was gone.
It was becoming more and more obvious by each fleeting second he wasted with Marcus and Angie that this wasn't how it was supposed to work out for him. He'd imagined finding a small group of people to stick with, like they did every season. He'd imagined sticking with them until he found his actual friends, the ones who were still alive and kicking, and he stuck it with them until someone dared asked the question of "What Now?" and it all fell apart. He didn't want it to. But that scenario, the only scenario he'd thought of when the more morbid ones weren't an option, was reliant on one thing - having his friends.
He hadn't run into any of them. He'd run into Isabel yesterday, a few days ago, who he knew, and Damian, who he loathed, and the latter was dead. Everyone else he hadn't found. Or he had no fucking idea who they were. He didn't have any reason to care about Leah, who was dead now, and he didn't have any reason to care about these two backwards backwoods losers. Jaxon gave them a shot but they were as out of orbit with him as the planet Venus with Saturn. Their concerns about life and friends were just so basic. They had no ambition beyond their pointless little lives, wheras Jaxon aimed for goddamn Andromeda.
He was quickly running out of patience for both of them. Angie less so, Marcus more so. He, especially, was becoming off-putting now.
Jaxon adjusted his crossed legs as he sat by the bodies of the ball pit. Had he any less concern for his safety and were this not a game of death, he would have just fallen backwards and lounged in the ball extravaganza. But as Lisa's body rested by his feet he thought over once again the fact that he shouldn't be stuck with two people he could fake that he cared about the well-being of, but the fact of the matter being that he had no idea who they were and the life and well-being of people he loved and wanted to live mattered more to him than they did. He wasn't going to outright say that, but that was really the gist of the situation here.
He was on the edge now. He handled well on his own for all that time before he ran into them, he knew that he could handle it on his own once more. All he needed was one more excuse and he was gone.
Angie felt immensely uncomfortable as soon as she stepped into the daycare. Normally the soothing effects of a blend of colors such as the ones on the walls would do a great deal to keep her calm, but when diluted with blood and the presence of two corpses, it created the opposite effect. She did not want to have anything to do with this place.
"Um... I think I'm just gonna slip out for a sec." Angie was starting to feel slightly nauseous, and she really didn't want to stick around for too long. "Won't be long, I just need a minute." With that, she slipped right back out the door and faced away from the horrors of the room inside.
Angie let out a deep sigh as she leaned against the exterior of the building. She had already known about the killings from the announcements, but actually being in the presence of dead bodies was completely new to her, and she didn't like it. She really didn't want to go back in the daycare, but she didn't want Marcus and Jaxon to think that she was abandoning them.
She continued to stare off into the distance, trying to focus her mind on something else. She would go back inside, but only when she was good and ready.
"Um... I think I'm just gonna slip out for a sec." Angie was starting to feel slightly nauseous, and she really didn't want to stick around for too long. "Won't be long, I just need a minute." With that, she slipped right back out the door and faced away from the horrors of the room inside.
Angie let out a deep sigh as she leaned against the exterior of the building. She had already known about the killings from the announcements, but actually being in the presence of dead bodies was completely new to her, and she didn't like it. She really didn't want to go back in the daycare, but she didn't want Marcus and Jaxon to think that she was abandoning them.
She continued to stare off into the distance, trying to focus her mind on something else. She would go back inside, but only when she was good and ready.
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SansaSaver
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A small blossom of anxiety rose within Marcus’s chest as Angie stated that she wished to step out of the building for a moment, only dissipating when she left her bag behind as she exited the room, leaving just himself and Jaxon alone with each other. Either her or Jaxon choosing to leave had always weighed heavily on his mind, but it was only with Angie’s words that he was faced with such a circumstance becoming reality. But when he looked upon her backpack, identical to his own save for its contents and the name printed on its exterior, he knew she wouldn’t go too far. She wouldn’t just trot off and leave her bag behind her, would she? And the fact that she’d trusted both of them with it, believed that neither he nor Jaxon would loot it and take off, could only be a good thing.
It meant she really wanted to stay with him.
It meant she was really his friend.
As he watched Angie depart, Marcus folded his legs up behind him and dragged his own bag towards him, rifling through its contents with his good hand before withdrawing Eden’s medical kit from within its depths. He knew next to nothing about medicine - as the rough job he’d done fixing up what Vahka had done to him could testify - but he figured that changing bandages and ointment ought to be fairly regularly, and he hadn’t had a chance to do so until now. He removed a spool of bandages and a small pair of scissors and placed them upon his lap, before looking back up at Jaxon, smiling all the while. Jaxon seemed like a swell guy, but they hadn’t been afforded much time to talk to one another since they’d first met back in the salon, with nary a moment alone together. Now was the perfect time to make up for all those lost opportunities, to really get to know the boy of multicoloured hair who’d said that they were friends.
“Hey Jaxon,” he said softly, running his fingers along the edge of his bandages. “We’ve never really gotten much time to talk to one another, huh? I just thought I’d say what a super rad guy you are.” He titled his head and offered him a warm smile before continuing, “You must really be missing your friends, huh?”
It meant she really wanted to stay with him.
It meant she was really his friend.
As he watched Angie depart, Marcus folded his legs up behind him and dragged his own bag towards him, rifling through its contents with his good hand before withdrawing Eden’s medical kit from within its depths. He knew next to nothing about medicine - as the rough job he’d done fixing up what Vahka had done to him could testify - but he figured that changing bandages and ointment ought to be fairly regularly, and he hadn’t had a chance to do so until now. He removed a spool of bandages and a small pair of scissors and placed them upon his lap, before looking back up at Jaxon, smiling all the while. Jaxon seemed like a swell guy, but they hadn’t been afforded much time to talk to one another since they’d first met back in the salon, with nary a moment alone together. Now was the perfect time to make up for all those lost opportunities, to really get to know the boy of multicoloured hair who’d said that they were friends.
“Hey Jaxon,” he said softly, running his fingers along the edge of his bandages. “We’ve never really gotten much time to talk to one another, huh? I just thought I’d say what a super rad guy you are.” He titled his head and offered him a warm smile before continuing, “You must really be missing your friends, huh?”
And on and on Marcus went with the Barney and Friends script. Aren't we all such good friends?
No bitch, we are not.
But Jaxon wasn't at the point where he wasn't going to put up with it anymore. He was slowly approaching that point with every stupidly optimistic thing that came out of Marcus's mouth, and the train wasn't even looking to dock at that station in a million years, but he wasn't there yet. Still, Jaxon answered his question, briefly and succinctly.
"Yep."
No bitch, we are not.
But Jaxon wasn't at the point where he wasn't going to put up with it anymore. He was slowly approaching that point with every stupidly optimistic thing that came out of Marcus's mouth, and the train wasn't even looking to dock at that station in a million years, but he wasn't there yet. Still, Jaxon answered his question, briefly and succinctly.
"Yep."
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SansaSaver
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Marcus faltered when Jaxon gave his rather blunt reply, but only for a second. Truthfully, he hadn’t expected the other boy to give such a curt response to his question, but he couldn’t do much about it. All he could do was keep propelling the conversation forward, keep Jaxon talking to him and staying by his side. It was all he wanted, and for that he’d do anything. Dealing with Jaxon being less than talkative was minuscule in comparison to the other options flitting about in the back of his mind, ones he didn’t let himself fully acknowledge.
“Me too,” he said quietly, pausing for a moment as he struggled to formulate an apt reply, idly curling a loose lock of his hair around a good finger before continuing. “But I’m sure we’ll find them all soon, right?”
He didn’t believe that, not for a second. He was so used to offering words of comfort and condolence - as weird as talking with sad people made him feel - but back when such statements had flowed freely from his lips, he’d truly believed what he was saying. Not anymore, though. They might find one or two, but even if they did reunite Jaxon with his other friends, what reception would they give Jaxon? Would they be the same boys and girls he’d been friends with, or would they have been warped and changed like Vahka had been? There was no way of telling, but Marcus knew if he wanted to keep Jaxon’s spirits up, wanted the other boy to see some benefit in staying with him, then he needed to reiterate it again and again.
He leaned forward and placed his good hand on Jaxon’s leg, offering him a warm smile as he met his eyes.
“It’ll all be alright, pal. Promise.”
“Me too,” he said quietly, pausing for a moment as he struggled to formulate an apt reply, idly curling a loose lock of his hair around a good finger before continuing. “But I’m sure we’ll find them all soon, right?”
He didn’t believe that, not for a second. He was so used to offering words of comfort and condolence - as weird as talking with sad people made him feel - but back when such statements had flowed freely from his lips, he’d truly believed what he was saying. Not anymore, though. They might find one or two, but even if they did reunite Jaxon with his other friends, what reception would they give Jaxon? Would they be the same boys and girls he’d been friends with, or would they have been warped and changed like Vahka had been? There was no way of telling, but Marcus knew if he wanted to keep Jaxon’s spirits up, wanted the other boy to see some benefit in staying with him, then he needed to reiterate it again and again.
He leaned forward and placed his good hand on Jaxon’s leg, offering him a warm smile as he met his eyes.
“It’ll all be alright, pal. Promise.”
...well, there it was.
Somebody needed to be educated in the error of his thoughts.
Jaxon reached down, took Marcus's hand off of his leg, and without leaving room for question he began.
"Okay, I'm going to ask this in the nicest way possible. What the FUCK is wrong with you?"
Jaxon probably didn't mean it to come out as bad as he did. But he meant it. And he meant everything else too.
"Do you not get where we are? Do you not get that we're sitting in a resort somewhere in the middle of who fucking knows where with C4 around our necks and an entire country of sociopaths waiting for us to kill each other? Do you not get that in a few days every single person in this room is going to be dead? Do you not get that nobody is going to save us? Do you not get ANYTHING? Or is the world just a bunch of shapes and colours for you to gawk at while you stumble through your pointless little life?"
He stood up, grabbing the bag sitting next to him and walking over to the nearest counter where he'd placed a few of his things.
"Before this, I was going to be a star. No fuck that, I WAS a star. I had everything; I had friends, I had my whole life planned out in front of me, I had options in every major city across America. I could have gone to Broadway if I wanted to! Hell, I could have made it big in L.A.! But you know what's left for me now? Sitting in a kiddie room in front of the body of one of my BEST FRIENDS while some backwards assfuck talks about how everything's going to be okay! NEWS FLASH, HILARY! Remember where we are?!"
As he put his stuff in the bag swinging from his shoulder, the option lay out in front of him to just leave right now, leave him to what he said. But for some reason he failed to stop.
"'Let's find your friends, they'll be okay!' Well news flash again! One of them's been lying right in front of us for as long as we've been here and another got killed yesterday by some other backwards dropkick from your school! And you know what, I'm pretty sure the rest aren't far behind! So I'm not going to have you sit here pretending that anything's going to be okay anymore. It's pointless, and I don't need it in whatever's left of my life."
He zipped up the bag.
"So see ya. I'd say good luck, but you know I wouldn't mean it."
Fuck this, fuck all of this, especially whoever these two people tried pretending they were. Jaxon managed pretty damn well on his own before and he was pretty sure he could do it again. He'd never spent this long alone in his life before but for now it was what worked for him. If he wanted to live he needed to be with the only person who realized the severity of what had actually happened to them, and that seemed to just be himself. He didn't have any delusions of, even if he did survive, pretending things were ever going to be the same ever again.
Then again, survive was the key word in that sentence.
Somebody needed to be educated in the error of his thoughts.
Jaxon reached down, took Marcus's hand off of his leg, and without leaving room for question he began.
"Okay, I'm going to ask this in the nicest way possible. What the FUCK is wrong with you?"
Jaxon probably didn't mean it to come out as bad as he did. But he meant it. And he meant everything else too.
"Do you not get where we are? Do you not get that we're sitting in a resort somewhere in the middle of who fucking knows where with C4 around our necks and an entire country of sociopaths waiting for us to kill each other? Do you not get that in a few days every single person in this room is going to be dead? Do you not get that nobody is going to save us? Do you not get ANYTHING? Or is the world just a bunch of shapes and colours for you to gawk at while you stumble through your pointless little life?"
He stood up, grabbing the bag sitting next to him and walking over to the nearest counter where he'd placed a few of his things.
"Before this, I was going to be a star. No fuck that, I WAS a star. I had everything; I had friends, I had my whole life planned out in front of me, I had options in every major city across America. I could have gone to Broadway if I wanted to! Hell, I could have made it big in L.A.! But you know what's left for me now? Sitting in a kiddie room in front of the body of one of my BEST FRIENDS while some backwards assfuck talks about how everything's going to be okay! NEWS FLASH, HILARY! Remember where we are?!"
As he put his stuff in the bag swinging from his shoulder, the option lay out in front of him to just leave right now, leave him to what he said. But for some reason he failed to stop.
"'Let's find your friends, they'll be okay!' Well news flash again! One of them's been lying right in front of us for as long as we've been here and another got killed yesterday by some other backwards dropkick from your school! And you know what, I'm pretty sure the rest aren't far behind! So I'm not going to have you sit here pretending that anything's going to be okay anymore. It's pointless, and I don't need it in whatever's left of my life."
He zipped up the bag.
"So see ya. I'd say good luck, but you know I wouldn't mean it."
Fuck this, fuck all of this, especially whoever these two people tried pretending they were. Jaxon managed pretty damn well on his own before and he was pretty sure he could do it again. He'd never spent this long alone in his life before but for now it was what worked for him. If he wanted to live he needed to be with the only person who realized the severity of what had actually happened to them, and that seemed to just be himself. He didn't have any delusions of, even if he did survive, pretending things were ever going to be the same ever again.
Then again, survive was the key word in that sentence.
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SansaSaver
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Marcus’s eyes widened as Jaxon wrenched his hand away from his leg, chin wavering and eyes beginning to water as the boy across from him began to rant, each word that left his mouth destroying any delusions Marcus might’ve made that Jaxon wanted to stay with him. His voice caught in his throat as his brain raced for possible protestations, anything he could do to keep his friend with him. He couldn’t let him leave. They were supposed to be friends, allies, Jaxon and Angie were the only ones left.
“Please, don’t leave me,” he whispered, voice barely audible beneath Jaxon’s shouts and the quickening of his heartbeat. “Don’t leave me, Jaxon. Please. You’re my friend...”
Everybody from Whittree would hate him for what he’d done to Eden; they’d think he was a monster and none of them would ally or stay with him. That was something stuck in concrete, something he’d never be able to change, no matter how much he wanted to. So that meant everybody from the other school were his last chance - they were blank cheques who didn’t know who he was or what he’d done, they were his only chance for friends in this place. But if Jaxon left, if Jaxon told them about the weird brunette with the mangled hand, covered in bruises and blood, then they’d all know. They’d know who he was and would be disgusted, and then there’d be no more allies or friends for him left.
He’d be alone.
So there was only thing he could do.
His fingers grabbed his scissors from where they’d fallen, knuckles wrapped around them with as tight a grip as he could muster.
“Hey, wait!”
Marcus ran to close the distance between them as Jaxon turned on his heel, and he was vaguely aware that he was crying as he drove the pair of scissors deeply into the centre of his friend’s chest. Blood immediately began to pool around the wound as Marcus wrenched the blade free and plunged it into him once more, each thrust of the makeshift-dagger accompanied by a frenzied word of protest as tears streamed down his face.
“Don’t. Leave. Me!”
He couldn’t let him leave.
He couldn’t be all alone.
“Please, don’t leave me,” he whispered, voice barely audible beneath Jaxon’s shouts and the quickening of his heartbeat. “Don’t leave me, Jaxon. Please. You’re my friend...”
Everybody from Whittree would hate him for what he’d done to Eden; they’d think he was a monster and none of them would ally or stay with him. That was something stuck in concrete, something he’d never be able to change, no matter how much he wanted to. So that meant everybody from the other school were his last chance - they were blank cheques who didn’t know who he was or what he’d done, they were his only chance for friends in this place. But if Jaxon left, if Jaxon told them about the weird brunette with the mangled hand, covered in bruises and blood, then they’d all know. They’d know who he was and would be disgusted, and then there’d be no more allies or friends for him left.
He’d be alone.
So there was only thing he could do.
His fingers grabbed his scissors from where they’d fallen, knuckles wrapped around them with as tight a grip as he could muster.
“Hey, wait!”
Marcus ran to close the distance between them as Jaxon turned on his heel, and he was vaguely aware that he was crying as he drove the pair of scissors deeply into the centre of his friend’s chest. Blood immediately began to pool around the wound as Marcus wrenched the blade free and plunged it into him once more, each thrust of the makeshift-dagger accompanied by a frenzied word of protest as tears streamed down his face.
“Don’t. Leave. Me!”
He couldn’t let him leave.
He couldn’t be all alone.
Jaxon hadn't registered the huge mistake he'd made until the scissors sunk into his chest. He was almost clear of the door, clear of the two musketeers and their misguided troop of nobility, and back on his own where he could figure out how to survive. But his curiosity got the better of him as he spun around and met what he knew now to be his end.
There was pain, yes. It fucking hurt. And he heard the screams of his now killer echoing in his ears. He was frozen to the spot as he felt an ocean wash through his dress bottom and into his jeans, what was once inside of him now decorating the daycare entrance. He couldn't even fall. He could only just stand there as he was punctured again and again like a water balloon that refused to pop, only deflate.
He knew what was going to happen soon. There was no coming back from a sliced open stomach. Especially one that burned with every second he still took breath. Had he more time to process this fact and think on it as he lay dying on the ground, he might have been sad that his life was cut short in such a way. He might have had a poignant scene with whoever was left as the life ebbed away, said some tragic last words, and passed into the unknown.
But it was all happening so fast, so none of that happen. It all came too fast, and he went right past the sadness into the anger. Every little utterance he'd stomached over the years was cut free by the scissors and came out into the open.
Mainly in the form of Jaxon not putting up a hand to defend himself. Instead using those hands to reach at Marcus's neck.
He felt his manicured nails dig into flesh, trying to choke and claw. He'd gotten a good grip with his right hand and was pulling as though he had the power to rip the life out of Marcus as he still stood living. Everything came bubbling up as rage penetrated his stare and into Marcus's eyes. If Marcus was going to kill him, Jaxon was going to take him down. And prove himself right. Whatever stupid little reason Marcus had for killing, either as a new admittance into the clinically insane or as a futile attempt to win this stupid game...
...Jaxon was ready to let know, in the most brutal way possible, that he WAS. NOT. HAVING IT.
You fucking cunt. Fucked-up cunt. You fucking did this to me and I'm going to do this to you. Fuck you. Fuck. You. FUCK. YOU.
He didn't even have the energy to scream his grievances at Marcus. He was putting everything he had into trying to take Marcus with him, even if it was going to be a lost cause.
Had Jaxon been in a better state of mind, he would have been grateful. Grateful that nobody he knew on this island ever had to see him like this. Like a cornered rat sinking his teeth into a feral cat. Especially not Aidan. Jaxon would also have been grateful that he never had to see Aidan die in a place he never goddamn deserved. He would have hoped Aidan had been thinking about him as they'd been separated. He don't know what he would have done without him, without Aidan he would have just been a lost little freak wandering the halls of a school too small to contain his inflated excellence. Without him he would have picked fights with any damn bully who so much as looked at the little freak with bleached out hair and clothes more expensive than their daddy's alimony. And without him, Jaxon wouldn't have known what it was like to love another human being as much as he loved Aidan.
But he wasn't stuck on these feelings of love. Just anger. He felt Marcus pierce the skin on one of his arms, the one that didn't get a good grip on his neck but was trying its hardest anyway. Blood pooled down his shirt to join the ocean coming forth from his slashed gut, and Jaxon felt the ocean in his head as well. Washing him away. His knees finally buckled and his legs fell prone to the ground, his body still standing up straight. This was it. The curtain was coming down.
As the last bits of energy drained from his upper body he pulled himself up to his killer's ear and smiled. Through choked breathes but still with the hint of condescension he carried his every word with, he whispered one final thing into Marcus's waiting ears.
One final wave.
His grip slipped and he fell backwards, yanked from the stage, his final words still echoing in his head as everything faded...
"Told you so."
CJ5: JAXON STREET - ELIMINATED
There was pain, yes. It fucking hurt. And he heard the screams of his now killer echoing in his ears. He was frozen to the spot as he felt an ocean wash through his dress bottom and into his jeans, what was once inside of him now decorating the daycare entrance. He couldn't even fall. He could only just stand there as he was punctured again and again like a water balloon that refused to pop, only deflate.
He knew what was going to happen soon. There was no coming back from a sliced open stomach. Especially one that burned with every second he still took breath. Had he more time to process this fact and think on it as he lay dying on the ground, he might have been sad that his life was cut short in such a way. He might have had a poignant scene with whoever was left as the life ebbed away, said some tragic last words, and passed into the unknown.
But it was all happening so fast, so none of that happen. It all came too fast, and he went right past the sadness into the anger. Every little utterance he'd stomached over the years was cut free by the scissors and came out into the open.
Mainly in the form of Jaxon not putting up a hand to defend himself. Instead using those hands to reach at Marcus's neck.
He felt his manicured nails dig into flesh, trying to choke and claw. He'd gotten a good grip with his right hand and was pulling as though he had the power to rip the life out of Marcus as he still stood living. Everything came bubbling up as rage penetrated his stare and into Marcus's eyes. If Marcus was going to kill him, Jaxon was going to take him down. And prove himself right. Whatever stupid little reason Marcus had for killing, either as a new admittance into the clinically insane or as a futile attempt to win this stupid game...
...Jaxon was ready to let know, in the most brutal way possible, that he WAS. NOT. HAVING IT.
You fucking cunt. Fucked-up cunt. You fucking did this to me and I'm going to do this to you. Fuck you. Fuck. You. FUCK. YOU.
He didn't even have the energy to scream his grievances at Marcus. He was putting everything he had into trying to take Marcus with him, even if it was going to be a lost cause.
Had Jaxon been in a better state of mind, he would have been grateful. Grateful that nobody he knew on this island ever had to see him like this. Like a cornered rat sinking his teeth into a feral cat. Especially not Aidan. Jaxon would also have been grateful that he never had to see Aidan die in a place he never goddamn deserved. He would have hoped Aidan had been thinking about him as they'd been separated. He don't know what he would have done without him, without Aidan he would have just been a lost little freak wandering the halls of a school too small to contain his inflated excellence. Without him he would have picked fights with any damn bully who so much as looked at the little freak with bleached out hair and clothes more expensive than their daddy's alimony. And without him, Jaxon wouldn't have known what it was like to love another human being as much as he loved Aidan.
But he wasn't stuck on these feelings of love. Just anger. He felt Marcus pierce the skin on one of his arms, the one that didn't get a good grip on his neck but was trying its hardest anyway. Blood pooled down his shirt to join the ocean coming forth from his slashed gut, and Jaxon felt the ocean in his head as well. Washing him away. His knees finally buckled and his legs fell prone to the ground, his body still standing up straight. This was it. The curtain was coming down.
As the last bits of energy drained from his upper body he pulled himself up to his killer's ear and smiled. Through choked breathes but still with the hint of condescension he carried his every word with, he whispered one final thing into Marcus's waiting ears.
One final wave.
His grip slipped and he fell backwards, yanked from the stage, his final words still echoing in his head as everything faded...
"Told you so."
CJ5: JAXON STREET - ELIMINATED
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SansaSaver
- Posts: 197
- Joined: Wed Sep 05, 2018 9:15 pm
Even as Marcus rammed his dagger into Jaxon’s chest with as much force as he could muster, puncture wounds spreadeagled haphazardly across his torso and arms, his friend still fought back, pristinely manicured nails digging painfully into Marcus’s neck with the last of his strength. Thick, warm blood splashed across his chest with every incision he made, washing down his arms and pouring thick from Jaxon’s stomach in molten valleys of dark red. Tears rolled freely down his cheeks as guttural chokes escaped his lips, the direction of his thrusts growing less direct with each second that passed, devolving into panicked slashes before Jaxon’s grip suddenly slackened and he was released, staggering backwards as the boy who’d been his friend dropped ungracefully to the ground with a few final words whispered in his ear.
Told you so.
Marcus wiped a hand across his face to rid it of sweat and snot and tears, leaving a dark trail of red in its wake and a swirling of bitter copper within his mouth as Jaxon’s words replayed themselves in his mind, soft sobs beginning to overwhelm his body.
He could’ve run once Jaxon had fallen, grabbed his belongings and dashed for the exit before fleeing the building entirely, but then he’d be without friends or allies. Although he was sure he could make some more friends if they looked past his bloodsoaked clothes and listened to why he’d done what he’d done, he wouldn’t have Angie, the one person he knew for certain he had left.
Oh god Angie, what would Angie think?
She’d be back from her excursion at any moment, and what would she think of him when she saw the scene the daycare had become? She might leave him too, and he couldn’t have that, couldn’t have her leave him all alone. But things were different this time, this time he didn’t have to make a snap judgement, this time he’d been afforded the luxury of a few short moments alone to think of what to do next. He didn’t know if Angie would believe him when he told her that Jaxon didn’t want to be their friend anymore - he’d scarcely believed it himself - so he needed an alternative solution, one that would anchor her to his side.
He crawled on his hands and knees to where Angie’s bag had fallen, delicately gripping the handles with his good hand and dragging it back to Jaxon’s body. His hands were shaking as they prised open Jaxon’s fingers, the lingering warmth of his friend’s body sending goosebumps prickling across his skin. He threaded the loops of Angie’s bag-strap into Jaxon’s hand before closing them up again, satisfied that he’d done the best job he could.
Marcus flashed a grin at a nearby camera vaulted to an opposing wall, shining molars framed by flecks of dark crimson. He wanted his parents and siblings to know he was doing okay when they saw it, didn’t want them to worry unnecessarily. He’d almost forgot about them with the fervour in which he’d killed Jaxon, but with the bitter silence that’d returned to the area came the knowledge that they were probably petrified at what he’d done and he wanted to show them just how well he was doing.
Their special little guy.
Told you so.
Marcus wiped a hand across his face to rid it of sweat and snot and tears, leaving a dark trail of red in its wake and a swirling of bitter copper within his mouth as Jaxon’s words replayed themselves in his mind, soft sobs beginning to overwhelm his body.
He could’ve run once Jaxon had fallen, grabbed his belongings and dashed for the exit before fleeing the building entirely, but then he’d be without friends or allies. Although he was sure he could make some more friends if they looked past his bloodsoaked clothes and listened to why he’d done what he’d done, he wouldn’t have Angie, the one person he knew for certain he had left.
Oh god Angie, what would Angie think?
She’d be back from her excursion at any moment, and what would she think of him when she saw the scene the daycare had become? She might leave him too, and he couldn’t have that, couldn’t have her leave him all alone. But things were different this time, this time he didn’t have to make a snap judgement, this time he’d been afforded the luxury of a few short moments alone to think of what to do next. He didn’t know if Angie would believe him when he told her that Jaxon didn’t want to be their friend anymore - he’d scarcely believed it himself - so he needed an alternative solution, one that would anchor her to his side.
He crawled on his hands and knees to where Angie’s bag had fallen, delicately gripping the handles with his good hand and dragging it back to Jaxon’s body. His hands were shaking as they prised open Jaxon’s fingers, the lingering warmth of his friend’s body sending goosebumps prickling across his skin. He threaded the loops of Angie’s bag-strap into Jaxon’s hand before closing them up again, satisfied that he’d done the best job he could.
Marcus flashed a grin at a nearby camera vaulted to an opposing wall, shining molars framed by flecks of dark crimson. He wanted his parents and siblings to know he was doing okay when they saw it, didn’t want them to worry unnecessarily. He’d almost forgot about them with the fervour in which he’d killed Jaxon, but with the bitter silence that’d returned to the area came the knowledge that they were probably petrified at what he’d done and he wanted to show them just how well he was doing.
Their special little guy.
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Rattlesnake
- Posts: 190
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 10:23 pm
A voice echoes from Jaxon's collar.
"Yo Jaxon, catchin' up with everyone and makin' the rou-
"...Fuck."
"Yo Jaxon, catchin' up with everyone and makin' the rou-
"...Fuck."
Angie took a few more deep breaths. She still wasn't sure that she was ready to face the daycare. Heck, she didn't think she'd ever be ready, but she had to go back in eventually. Marcus and Jaxon were waiting, and she couldn't just leave them so soon after they'd formed a sort of alliance. That just wasn't the kind of person she was.
Then she heard yelling coming from inside the room, and immediately perked up. What could be going on in there? Everything seemed fine when she was in there a couple minutes ago, corpse-strewn room aside. Angie wanted to go back in and see what happened, but the sudden outburst caused her to lose her nerve again. She was angry at herself for being such a coward, but she felt as though her feet were frozen in place.
When the yelling suddenly stopped though, she knew that something was wrong. There's only one reason she could think of for why it could stop like that, and she didn't want to imagine it. In this situation, however, it was certainly a possibility. Her feet still felt like they were encased in a block of ice, but she forced herself to walk to the door. She hesitated as she placed her hand on the doorknob, but brought herself to open the door despite her discomfort.
Once Angie was inside, the source of all the yelling became clear. Jaxon was on the ground in a pool of blood that hadn't been there before. Even from the doorway, she could tell he was dead. Even worse was the fact that Marcus was standing over him, and he was smiling.
Angie tried to say something, but she couldn't find her voice. The sheer horror of the scene in front of her had rendered her utterly speechless.
Then she heard yelling coming from inside the room, and immediately perked up. What could be going on in there? Everything seemed fine when she was in there a couple minutes ago, corpse-strewn room aside. Angie wanted to go back in and see what happened, but the sudden outburst caused her to lose her nerve again. She was angry at herself for being such a coward, but she felt as though her feet were frozen in place.
When the yelling suddenly stopped though, she knew that something was wrong. There's only one reason she could think of for why it could stop like that, and she didn't want to imagine it. In this situation, however, it was certainly a possibility. Her feet still felt like they were encased in a block of ice, but she forced herself to walk to the door. She hesitated as she placed her hand on the doorknob, but brought herself to open the door despite her discomfort.
Once Angie was inside, the source of all the yelling became clear. Jaxon was on the ground in a pool of blood that hadn't been there before. Even from the doorway, she could tell he was dead. Even worse was the fact that Marcus was standing over him, and he was smiling.
Angie tried to say something, but she couldn't find her voice. The sheer horror of the scene in front of her had rendered her utterly speechless.
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SansaSaver
- Posts: 197
- Joined: Wed Sep 05, 2018 9:15 pm
The smile plastered across Marcus’s face fled from his features the second he registered Angie’s presence, pivoting his head to face his returning friend. Every inch of his being was shaking from the anger and fear that’d accompanied the thrusts of his blade, sheer adrenaline continuing to course rapidly through his system. He could feel himself begin to feel faint as he made eye-contact with Angie, his knees beginning to knock together as tears streamed down his face, a look of abject panic etching itself into his features. She looked so scared, so petrified of the scene spread before her, and while he couldn’t blame her he wished she’d just say something - anything - to make him feel less alone, give him some modicum of comfort, confirm that he’d done the right thing.
But she was silent, and it was up to him to explain what’d happened, tell her that Jaxon wanted to leave them. Angie would understand, she had to, just so long as he told her what he needed to. It’d be only half-true; he’d have to add embellishments, lies, anything to make her stay with him. Lying was something that’d never come naturally to him, his parents having always taught him that telling the truth was always the best option, but it was his only choice, the only way he could ensure Angie stayed with him and remained his friend and companion.
He just hoped his parents wouldn’t be too mad at him for lying to her.
“Angie,” he started, voice breaking and shaking with each word that passed through his lips. “Jaxon, he- he grabbed your bag, see?” He gestured towards where he’d ensnared her bag within Jaxon’s grip, lowering himself onto his knees as he did so. “And I asked why and he said that he didn’t want to be with us anymore, and I tried to get him to stop, but he wouldn’t. He was just so strong and I... I had to.”
A tear leaked over the bridge of his nose to join the amalgamation of blood and snot across his face as Marcus returned his gaze to hers, eyes pleading with her to accept his explanation and let them move on, to let them remain friends forever.
“He tried to leave us and take your things,” he managed to gasp between sobs as they wracked his body once more. “You understand, right? You won’t leave me too, will you?”
But she was silent, and it was up to him to explain what’d happened, tell her that Jaxon wanted to leave them. Angie would understand, she had to, just so long as he told her what he needed to. It’d be only half-true; he’d have to add embellishments, lies, anything to make her stay with him. Lying was something that’d never come naturally to him, his parents having always taught him that telling the truth was always the best option, but it was his only choice, the only way he could ensure Angie stayed with him and remained his friend and companion.
He just hoped his parents wouldn’t be too mad at him for lying to her.
“Angie,” he started, voice breaking and shaking with each word that passed through his lips. “Jaxon, he- he grabbed your bag, see?” He gestured towards where he’d ensnared her bag within Jaxon’s grip, lowering himself onto his knees as he did so. “And I asked why and he said that he didn’t want to be with us anymore, and I tried to get him to stop, but he wouldn’t. He was just so strong and I... I had to.”
A tear leaked over the bridge of his nose to join the amalgamation of blood and snot across his face as Marcus returned his gaze to hers, eyes pleading with her to accept his explanation and let them move on, to let them remain friends forever.
“He tried to leave us and take your things,” he managed to gasp between sobs as they wracked his body once more. “You understand, right? You won’t leave me too, will you?”
Angie was scared, and there was no way she could hide it. Just a few minutes ago, she had been adventuring with her newfound alliance. Now one of them was dead at the hands of the other, and the killer was begging and pleading for her to stay with him. Marcus had a story about how Jaxon tried to steal her things and leave, but Angie was having a hard time believing it. Of course, she also had a a hard time believing that Marcus had killed Jaxon so suddenly, but the evidence for that was rather prominent.
Marcus was clearly desperate, but Angie had no desire to be around someone that now had at least two killings to their name. She just wanted to grab her things and get out of there as soon as possible. She slowly stepped towards her bag while trying not to alarm Marcus. She tried to put on her most calming voice to keep him from doing anything rash, despite the fact that her voice was clearly shaking.
"O-okay Marcus... just, um... just let me get my things, okay?"
Marcus was clearly desperate, but Angie had no desire to be around someone that now had at least two killings to their name. She just wanted to grab her things and get out of there as soon as possible. She slowly stepped towards her bag while trying not to alarm Marcus. She tried to put on her most calming voice to keep him from doing anything rash, despite the fact that her voice was clearly shaking.
"O-okay Marcus... just, um... just let me get my things, okay?"
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SansaSaver
- Posts: 197
- Joined: Wed Sep 05, 2018 9:15 pm
Make Angie stay.
Marcus pushed every other feeling and thought to the side, restraining them as best he could as he devoted all his attention to his one goal; perhaps the most important goal he’d ever had in his life. If he still had Angie with him, then maybe everything would be okay - he’d still have a friend to keep him company, someone who cared about him and didn’t hate him - but if she left, then he didn’t know what he’d do. And that fear that thought alone brought him provided fuel enough to propel him forwards with this singular aim.
Make her stay, no matter what.
“Sure,” he said, voice still uneven as he stifled a ragged breath and the frantic drumming of his heartbeat contained to echo sharply in his ears. “Everything’s still in there, he didn’t have any time to take anything out. It’s gonna be okay.”
Marcus clutched his knees tightly against his torso as he slowly retreated from Angie’s bag and Jaxon’s unmoving form, his eyes fixed on every movement she made. Just in case, he offered her a delicate smile, one he hoped provided her a modicum of reassurance that he meant no harm, before twisting his head and offering the same smile to the nearest camera. He couldn’t be sure his family had picked up on the last smile he’d given them, and he wanted to be certain they knew how well he was doing.
“You’re not gonna leave me too, right?” He repeated in a quiet whisper, a need for reassurance causing him to rock gently forward as his chin began to quiver once more. “Please don’t leave me too.”
Marcus pushed every other feeling and thought to the side, restraining them as best he could as he devoted all his attention to his one goal; perhaps the most important goal he’d ever had in his life. If he still had Angie with him, then maybe everything would be okay - he’d still have a friend to keep him company, someone who cared about him and didn’t hate him - but if she left, then he didn’t know what he’d do. And that fear that thought alone brought him provided fuel enough to propel him forwards with this singular aim.
Make her stay, no matter what.
“Sure,” he said, voice still uneven as he stifled a ragged breath and the frantic drumming of his heartbeat contained to echo sharply in his ears. “Everything’s still in there, he didn’t have any time to take anything out. It’s gonna be okay.”
Marcus clutched his knees tightly against his torso as he slowly retreated from Angie’s bag and Jaxon’s unmoving form, his eyes fixed on every movement she made. Just in case, he offered her a delicate smile, one he hoped provided her a modicum of reassurance that he meant no harm, before twisting his head and offering the same smile to the nearest camera. He couldn’t be sure his family had picked up on the last smile he’d given them, and he wanted to be certain they knew how well he was doing.
“You’re not gonna leave me too, right?” He repeated in a quiet whisper, a need for reassurance causing him to rock gently forward as his chin began to quiver once more. “Please don’t leave me too.”