((Faye Xandora continued from The Gigantic))
Faye’s chest hurt.
God. That sounded like the setup to a truly awful punchline, didn’t it? Her chest hurt, but nowhere near as much as Clover’s did. Hahaha. The soldiers monitoring the program had probably all thought of it themselves, as they watched her struggling to breathe, lungs burning, legs on the verge of giving out underneath her, watched her on one screen, and watched Clover’s lifeless body on another. They were probably laughing about it right now, chuckling and making snide comments, about the girl with the crossbow bolt in her chest, lying face down on the uncaring ground, the blood finally starting to settle and stop spreading out from beneath her.
She didn’t want to think about it.
She didn’t want to.
She didn’t. Want. To.
But it wouldn’t leave, it would never leave, no matter how much she begged or pleaded or cried. It wouldn’t go away. She’d see it in her dreams, and in her every waking moments, and even if she slammed her head into the concrete until it was nothing more than a bloody pulp just so she couldn’t see it anymore, she knew the last thing that would cross her mind before she vanished from existence was the sight of Clover’s bleeding, broken body.
Faye felt herself choke out a sob as she staggered towards the wet market. She wasn’t sure if she’d even make it, and she didn’t know if she even cared. Maybe she would just collapse onto the ground and pass out, and maybe this would all turn out to be a horrible nightmare.
At least the stench of rotting fish provided a brief reprieve, as the sea breeze shifted, bringing the smell from the market directly at Faye, hitting her like a solid wall. She gagged, the smell bringing tears to her eyes. After all her grotesque thoughts, that was what did it. That was the thing that caused tears to spring forth. Her legs wobbled. She felt certain this was where she collapsed.
Somehow, she carried on. Somehow, she made it all the way to the fourth stall from the entrance, before she collapsed against it, her knees and ankles instantly getting soaked as she retched, one hand quickly splashing into the water as well, simultaneously hoping that she’d throw up and that she wouldn’t.
A few minutes passed, and nothing came up, and Faye rested her head against the rough wood of the stall and closed her eyes.
Chill and Rigor
Phase 1 (0-12 Hours), Open
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Catche Jagger
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((Muhammad "Mo" Abbasi continued from Viridiana))
As Mo had wandered away from the Southern District, all he could think about was his interaction with the boy in the cafe. Despite the young athlete's best attempts, his appeals for conversation had devolved into annoyed threats. Good intentions had gotten him nothing more than irritation and a sense of futility.
Is this how the Program breaks you down? Just make everyone so paranoid that they can't help but piss each other off? The thought made him chuckle a bit to himself, but the laughter felt hollow, because the sentiment seemed to ring true. Maybe he wasn't going to find some like-minded classmates and find his way out of this. Maybe he was destined to kill or be killed. He felt a pit in his stomach as he glanced down at his assigned hatchet.
No, there's got to be a way. I can't let one asshole get to me like that. He thought, focusing his mind. I am not alone out here. The thought was both comforting and worrying.
However, as he made his way to the Wet Market, Mo's journey seemed to have returned to it's previous status, namely that he encountered no other students. Though this ensured safety, the longer his isolation continued, the more certain he became that a violent attacker was just around each corner. His hands grew raw from the tightness with which he held his hatchet.
In addition to this, the market's strong smell of fish only served to worsen his mood. Mo sighed. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe the Program wears down your sanity through sheer exhaustion.
As he approached the fourth stall from the entrance, Mo decided stop and take stock of his surroundings. It was then that Mo caught sight of the girl, who appeared to be resting up against that same stall.
Startled by the sudden appearance of another student, even a sleeping one, Mo jumped back, hatchet hand trembling.
"Shit!" he shouted, unable to contain himself. He immediately regretted reacting in such an intense manner, but there was little he could do about that but apologize if and when the girl woke up.
As Mo had wandered away from the Southern District, all he could think about was his interaction with the boy in the cafe. Despite the young athlete's best attempts, his appeals for conversation had devolved into annoyed threats. Good intentions had gotten him nothing more than irritation and a sense of futility.
Is this how the Program breaks you down? Just make everyone so paranoid that they can't help but piss each other off? The thought made him chuckle a bit to himself, but the laughter felt hollow, because the sentiment seemed to ring true. Maybe he wasn't going to find some like-minded classmates and find his way out of this. Maybe he was destined to kill or be killed. He felt a pit in his stomach as he glanced down at his assigned hatchet.
No, there's got to be a way. I can't let one asshole get to me like that. He thought, focusing his mind. I am not alone out here. The thought was both comforting and worrying.
However, as he made his way to the Wet Market, Mo's journey seemed to have returned to it's previous status, namely that he encountered no other students. Though this ensured safety, the longer his isolation continued, the more certain he became that a violent attacker was just around each corner. His hands grew raw from the tightness with which he held his hatchet.
In addition to this, the market's strong smell of fish only served to worsen his mood. Mo sighed. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe the Program wears down your sanity through sheer exhaustion.
As he approached the fourth stall from the entrance, Mo decided stop and take stock of his surroundings. It was then that Mo caught sight of the girl, who appeared to be resting up against that same stall.
Startled by the sudden appearance of another student, even a sleeping one, Mo jumped back, hatchet hand trembling.
"Shit!" he shouted, unable to contain himself. He immediately regretted reacting in such an intense manner, but there was little he could do about that but apologize if and when the girl woke up.
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Pippi
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It was easy to tell yourself the truth. Easier even than lying to yourself, because the truth would always be there, bubbling in your brain, even if you tried to cover it up with a lie. The truth, or what you knew as the truth, came automatically. A lie had to be created.
And there was no reason for Faye to lie to herself, because the truth should have been comforting. She hadn’t murdered anyone in cold blood. She hadn’t gone on a crossbow wielding rampage. She’d been threatened. Clover was going to shoot her if she had done nothing. It was kill or be killed; Faye had done the only thing she could possibly do.
But it didn’t help. None of it helped. As her breathing slowed and her mind came down from the dizzying heights of exhaustion, the film started over again and she relived the entirety of Clover’s death yet again in her head.
Justified or not. Someone was now dead. Someone was dead because of Clover’s actions, and everyone at home who was watching had seen it happen. Everyone knew. Everyone had seen the crossbow bolt jutting out of Clover’s chest, heard her gurgling laugh as she bled out and fell to the floor and stopped moving, seen Faye run, run from her actions and-
Faye’s eyes were on the verge of flying open in panic when the cry of fear from feet away made certain of it.
“F-Fuck!”
She jumped up, backing against the stall as she did so. The crossbow swung up before Faye had even gotten a chance to see who she was pointing it at. A tall boy, decked in a hoody and jeans, holding a small axe. He was… He wasn’t ‘American,’ as some of her extended family would say, attempting to force politeness through gritted teeth, rather than the word that was desperate to escape their mouths.
“Mo?”
She knew Mo. She liked Mo, even though there were a number of her friends that would have preferred if she didn’t. He was friendly. He was chill. He was super into basketball. Faye could trust him.
Just like she could trust Clover.
She lowered the pistol crossbow, slowly, shaking as she did. Then she raised it again, pointing it at his chest. It faltered, looking like it was about to lower for a split second, then she managed to steady her hand and keep it aimed directly at Mo’s torso.
Then she realised she hadn’t even reloaded her goddamn weapon. The bolts were still either stuck in her pocket or stowed in her bag.
Faye lowered the crossbow again, and this time it stayed there, dangling next to her knee. A moment passed, and she realised she was laughing, choked, frantic laughter escaping from her mouth, and she didn’t know why, and she didn’t know how she could stop it.
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Mo, I’m… I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise, I promise…”
She felt tears begin to roll off her cheeks and splash onto the floor as her hands started shaking.
“Please believe me.”
And there was no reason for Faye to lie to herself, because the truth should have been comforting. She hadn’t murdered anyone in cold blood. She hadn’t gone on a crossbow wielding rampage. She’d been threatened. Clover was going to shoot her if she had done nothing. It was kill or be killed; Faye had done the only thing she could possibly do.
But it didn’t help. None of it helped. As her breathing slowed and her mind came down from the dizzying heights of exhaustion, the film started over again and she relived the entirety of Clover’s death yet again in her head.
Justified or not. Someone was now dead. Someone was dead because of Clover’s actions, and everyone at home who was watching had seen it happen. Everyone knew. Everyone had seen the crossbow bolt jutting out of Clover’s chest, heard her gurgling laugh as she bled out and fell to the floor and stopped moving, seen Faye run, run from her actions and-
Faye’s eyes were on the verge of flying open in panic when the cry of fear from feet away made certain of it.
“F-Fuck!”
She jumped up, backing against the stall as she did so. The crossbow swung up before Faye had even gotten a chance to see who she was pointing it at. A tall boy, decked in a hoody and jeans, holding a small axe. He was… He wasn’t ‘American,’ as some of her extended family would say, attempting to force politeness through gritted teeth, rather than the word that was desperate to escape their mouths.
“Mo?”
She knew Mo. She liked Mo, even though there were a number of her friends that would have preferred if she didn’t. He was friendly. He was chill. He was super into basketball. Faye could trust him.
Just like she could trust Clover.
She lowered the pistol crossbow, slowly, shaking as she did. Then she raised it again, pointing it at his chest. It faltered, looking like it was about to lower for a split second, then she managed to steady her hand and keep it aimed directly at Mo’s torso.
Then she realised she hadn’t even reloaded her goddamn weapon. The bolts were still either stuck in her pocket or stowed in her bag.
Faye lowered the crossbow again, and this time it stayed there, dangling next to her knee. A moment passed, and she realised she was laughing, choked, frantic laughter escaping from her mouth, and she didn’t know why, and she didn’t know how she could stop it.
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Mo, I’m… I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise, I promise…”
She felt tears begin to roll off her cheeks and splash onto the floor as her hands started shaking.
“Please believe me.”
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Catche Jagger
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Though the girl seemed vaguely familiar to Mo, as she stood up, shaking, eyes full of fear, pointing her crossbow at him, he found himself more focused on the possibility of his own death. He tried to think of something to say to reassure this clearly terrified girl and get himself out of danger. However, before the proper words came to him, she spoke up.
“Mo?”
It was then, hearing her voice, that it all clicked for Mo. Faye… Faye Xandora.
As she lowered her weapon, the young athlete made to call out to her, but when the crossbow rose up again, the words were caught in his throat.
Was this really Faye? The girl Mo knew was always smiling and energetic, lighting up any room she entered. Above all else, she had been kind, one of the popular kids who had never been suspicious of Mo based off his background. This girl was terrified, racked with paranoia even at the sight of a friendly face.
While the young athlete tried to wrap his head around what had become of the sweet girl he had known and how to deal with the possibility that she might try to kill him, Faye’s arm had slumped down and she had begun to laugh. This was not a laugh Mo had heard from her before, however. It was filled with horror and sadness.
Mo finally realized just how lucky he’d been in the Program far. The worst thing that had happened to him so far were some threats made at him through a closed door and the prospect of wandering alone, but something had happened to Faye that had pushed her right to the edge.
Watching her apologize for her reaction and begging for him to believe her, tears in her eyes, Mo’s first reaction was that he needed to do something, hug her, tell her everything was alright. But as he stepped closer, he was reminded of something his friend Conner had told him, back in his freshman year.
“Word of advice: be careful around white girls, alright? Don’t get too touchy or affectionate or anything like that, particularly if you’re alone. I know it’s stupid, but people are stupid. It's just a good idea, for... well, for guys like you.”
Do things like that even matter here in the Program? Mo wondered as he approached the shaken girl. He slowly and awkwardly placed his hand on her shoulder, deciding that would serve.
“I believe you, Faye. Why wouldn’t I believe you?” He replied softly, trying to be as comforting as possible. He’d never had to talk someone down from a traumatic experience before, but he was going to try his damnedest for her. Of everyone, she didn't deserve this.
As he stood there, trying to be as kind as possible, he couldn’t keep himself from looking into her eyes and asking, “Faye… What happened?”
“Mo?”
It was then, hearing her voice, that it all clicked for Mo. Faye… Faye Xandora.
As she lowered her weapon, the young athlete made to call out to her, but when the crossbow rose up again, the words were caught in his throat.
Was this really Faye? The girl Mo knew was always smiling and energetic, lighting up any room she entered. Above all else, she had been kind, one of the popular kids who had never been suspicious of Mo based off his background. This girl was terrified, racked with paranoia even at the sight of a friendly face.
While the young athlete tried to wrap his head around what had become of the sweet girl he had known and how to deal with the possibility that she might try to kill him, Faye’s arm had slumped down and she had begun to laugh. This was not a laugh Mo had heard from her before, however. It was filled with horror and sadness.
Mo finally realized just how lucky he’d been in the Program far. The worst thing that had happened to him so far were some threats made at him through a closed door and the prospect of wandering alone, but something had happened to Faye that had pushed her right to the edge.
Watching her apologize for her reaction and begging for him to believe her, tears in her eyes, Mo’s first reaction was that he needed to do something, hug her, tell her everything was alright. But as he stepped closer, he was reminded of something his friend Conner had told him, back in his freshman year.
“Word of advice: be careful around white girls, alright? Don’t get too touchy or affectionate or anything like that, particularly if you’re alone. I know it’s stupid, but people are stupid. It's just a good idea, for... well, for guys like you.”
Do things like that even matter here in the Program? Mo wondered as he approached the shaken girl. He slowly and awkwardly placed his hand on her shoulder, deciding that would serve.
“I believe you, Faye. Why wouldn’t I believe you?” He replied softly, trying to be as comforting as possible. He’d never had to talk someone down from a traumatic experience before, but he was going to try his damnedest for her. Of everyone, she didn't deserve this.
As he stood there, trying to be as kind as possible, he couldn’t keep himself from looking into her eyes and asking, “Faye… What happened?”
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Pippi
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“I… I don’t…”
Faye could feel her head shaking ‘no’ as she stared into Mo’s eyes. She didn’t quite feel like she was in control of herself though. Every action she made was being done for her. Her body was a puppet, and her mind was being dragged along, watching its actions unfold in front of her. As if on cue, another choked cry suddenly burst from her mouth, and now her whole body was shaking again, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She tried to speak again, but her throat was dry, and it felt like she was swallowing sand whenever she opened her mouth. She swallowed, the action helping a little, as she tried, desperately, to slow her breathing down.
“Okay… Okay, just… Just give me a moment…” she managed to choke out, before leaning down to put her crossbow onto the ground. Just to prove she wasn’t going to hurt him. Just to make absolutely certain that Mo couldn’t be suspicious of her. She slipped her bag off of her shoulders and onto the ground, then looked up at Mo again.
“I’m just… getting some water. I promise.”
As quickly as she could, she unzipped the bag, grabbing a bottle of water from within and bringing it up to show Mo, one hand tightly grabbing it, the other held open with the palm facing him. Slowly, she stood up again, unscrewing the bottle cap as she did. She closed her eyes as she tipped her head back and felt the water flow down her throat. Bits and pieces of anxiety and worry and fear got caught on the stream, and vanished back inside of her, and she felt her breathing finally reach a normal state again.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and put the bottle cap back on, loosely resting on the neck of the bottle.
“Okay…”
Now she was in a state to recount her tale. Because she knew, she was absolutely certain, that telling Mo about it was going to send her heart into her throat and for the scene to replay over and over and over again in her head. She needed to be as calm as she possibly could, because if she talked about it whilst she was already panicking, she might just shut down irreparably.
Faye felt the plastic of the water bottle crinkle beneath her fingers as she began to recount her ordeal.
“Clover… Clover Dubose, do you know her, Mo? She was my friend, back at home, she was nice, she… she was friendly and… and she’s dead.”
No. No no no, God, this wasn’t working, she was already panicking again, heartbeat back up to its jackhammer tempo, this wasn’t working but the words kept on spilling out of her mouth and her breathing kept on getting faster and more erratic.
“She threatened me, Mo, I promise I’m… I’m not lying! She had a gun in her bag and she was gonna shoot me if I didn’t do anything and I just… I panicked and now she’s dead and it’s all my fault!”
There was liquid pooling around her hand, her grip tightened on the water bottle and sending water gushing out of it, joining the sheen already coating the floor. She covered her mouth with her hand, sobs coursing through her body, shaking like the last leaf on a tree in autumn, desperately clinging on for dear life.
“I didn’t want to kill her… I didn’t want to… I didn’t want this to happen…”
Faye could feel her head shaking ‘no’ as she stared into Mo’s eyes. She didn’t quite feel like she was in control of herself though. Every action she made was being done for her. Her body was a puppet, and her mind was being dragged along, watching its actions unfold in front of her. As if on cue, another choked cry suddenly burst from her mouth, and now her whole body was shaking again, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She tried to speak again, but her throat was dry, and it felt like she was swallowing sand whenever she opened her mouth. She swallowed, the action helping a little, as she tried, desperately, to slow her breathing down.
“Okay… Okay, just… Just give me a moment…” she managed to choke out, before leaning down to put her crossbow onto the ground. Just to prove she wasn’t going to hurt him. Just to make absolutely certain that Mo couldn’t be suspicious of her. She slipped her bag off of her shoulders and onto the ground, then looked up at Mo again.
“I’m just… getting some water. I promise.”
As quickly as she could, she unzipped the bag, grabbing a bottle of water from within and bringing it up to show Mo, one hand tightly grabbing it, the other held open with the palm facing him. Slowly, she stood up again, unscrewing the bottle cap as she did. She closed her eyes as she tipped her head back and felt the water flow down her throat. Bits and pieces of anxiety and worry and fear got caught on the stream, and vanished back inside of her, and she felt her breathing finally reach a normal state again.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and put the bottle cap back on, loosely resting on the neck of the bottle.
“Okay…”
Now she was in a state to recount her tale. Because she knew, she was absolutely certain, that telling Mo about it was going to send her heart into her throat and for the scene to replay over and over and over again in her head. She needed to be as calm as she possibly could, because if she talked about it whilst she was already panicking, she might just shut down irreparably.
Faye felt the plastic of the water bottle crinkle beneath her fingers as she began to recount her ordeal.
“Clover… Clover Dubose, do you know her, Mo? She was my friend, back at home, she was nice, she… she was friendly and… and she’s dead.”
No. No no no, God, this wasn’t working, she was already panicking again, heartbeat back up to its jackhammer tempo, this wasn’t working but the words kept on spilling out of her mouth and her breathing kept on getting faster and more erratic.
“She threatened me, Mo, I promise I’m… I’m not lying! She had a gun in her bag and she was gonna shoot me if I didn’t do anything and I just… I panicked and now she’s dead and it’s all my fault!”
There was liquid pooling around her hand, her grip tightened on the water bottle and sending water gushing out of it, joining the sheen already coating the floor. She covered her mouth with her hand, sobs coursing through her body, shaking like the last leaf on a tree in autumn, desperately clinging on for dear life.
“I didn’t want to kill her… I didn’t want to… I didn’t want this to happen…”
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Catche Jagger
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It took a while for Faye to pull together the strength to even articulate herself properly. Whatever had happened, it had seemingly rocked the once-bubbly girl to her very core. What the hell had happened to her?
As she turned to get water, suspicion began to seep into Mo's mind, in spite of his best efforts to have faith in his friend. Was she stalling? Trying to think of some fake story? No. How could he think that? She’s obviously the victim of… something. Right?
Then, she finally began to explain herself, talking about someone named Clover Dubose. Mo had heard the name before, but he had never met her. Now she’s dead and Faye had to watch it happen. The thought came the stark reminder of where he really was.
Before he could try to reassure the trembling girl, she suddenly became defensive. Saying that she was threatened by Clover. Was that supposed to mean something to him? Was there some sort of-
Oh.
Oh no.
“I didn’t want to kill her… I didn’t want to… I didn’t want this to happen…”
Faye, that sweet, kind girl, had been forced to kill her own friend. He stumbled backward slightly, struggling to keep his footing. Had she been forced? Yes, of course she was forced. Look at how torn up she is over this.
This is what the Program would do to him, to all of his classmates eventually. Here, one had to become a killer or die. And will you be able to do what is necessary, when the time comes? He chose to dismiss the thought for now.
Mo shook his head as he placed a hand back on her shoulder. What was he supposed to say? How does one help a friend come to terms with being a killer? He remained there in silence for a while, struggling without success to think of something to say.
“I believe you.” He finally spoke up, almost in a whisper.
Nodding his head, he repeated the words “I believe you. It’s not your fault.”
Then, he tried to crack a reassuring smile, looking into her eyes once more. “Hey, it’s okay now. We’re both in this together, right? Maybe… we can figure all this crap out together?”
Did he really think that some kind of pacifistic alliance with Faye would really work? If he was being honest with himself, it seemed doubtful, but he wanted so desperately to believe that there was some way out of the path that had been laid out before him.
As she turned to get water, suspicion began to seep into Mo's mind, in spite of his best efforts to have faith in his friend. Was she stalling? Trying to think of some fake story? No. How could he think that? She’s obviously the victim of… something. Right?
Then, she finally began to explain herself, talking about someone named Clover Dubose. Mo had heard the name before, but he had never met her. Now she’s dead and Faye had to watch it happen. The thought came the stark reminder of where he really was.
Before he could try to reassure the trembling girl, she suddenly became defensive. Saying that she was threatened by Clover. Was that supposed to mean something to him? Was there some sort of-
Oh.
Oh no.
“I didn’t want to kill her… I didn’t want to… I didn’t want this to happen…”
Faye, that sweet, kind girl, had been forced to kill her own friend. He stumbled backward slightly, struggling to keep his footing. Had she been forced? Yes, of course she was forced. Look at how torn up she is over this.
This is what the Program would do to him, to all of his classmates eventually. Here, one had to become a killer or die. And will you be able to do what is necessary, when the time comes? He chose to dismiss the thought for now.
Mo shook his head as he placed a hand back on her shoulder. What was he supposed to say? How does one help a friend come to terms with being a killer? He remained there in silence for a while, struggling without success to think of something to say.
“I believe you.” He finally spoke up, almost in a whisper.
Nodding his head, he repeated the words “I believe you. It’s not your fault.”
Then, he tried to crack a reassuring smile, looking into her eyes once more. “Hey, it’s okay now. We’re both in this together, right? Maybe… we can figure all this crap out together?”
Did he really think that some kind of pacifistic alliance with Faye would really work? If he was being honest with himself, it seemed doubtful, but he wanted so desperately to believe that there was some way out of the path that had been laid out before him.
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Pippi
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Mo stepped backwards, stumbled away in shock when he realised that he was talking to a killer, and Faye felt her heart rip itself into shreds and disappear into nothingness. Her head drooped, and she looked down at the ground, hand still covering her mouth. She saw the water pooled around her feet through her blurred vision and felt the sobs rack her body and nothing else.
Of course. This was how people were going to react to her the instant they found out she had killed someone from now on, if they didn’t just decide to attack or shoot her instead. Friends, enemies, acquaintances she had only passed by in the corridor at school; all of them would react with fear and suspicion whenever they ran into her. Again, if she was lucky. Again, if they didn’t instead react with hatred and anger.
Faye flinched the moment she felt Mo’s hand on her shoulder, whimpering softly. She waited for him to tell her to get lost, that he didn’t want to associate with murderers, especially when he was in more danger than anyone else because of who he was.
But those words never came, and Faye lifted her head up and looked into Mo’s eyes as he told her that he believed her. She looked at him, wide-eyed, listened, felt her heart begin to repair itself and her blood start pumping through her veins again.
“Maybe…”
She blinked and realised that there was still a piece of her heart missing, still little skips in her circulation where she felt empty and lost again.
“It’d be… real nice to figure this all out with someone I can trust… Someone I can stick around with for a while…”
But did he completely and utterly trust her? No. He couldn’t. His reaction when she’d told him she’d killed someone was evidence enough of that. Even if he’d managed to hide his shock and fear, she was still certain there’d still be some part of him that couldn’t trust her, a part of him that would keep one eye open whilst he slept because he was teaming up with a girl with blood on her hands.
“Have you… Are you okay, Mo? Has anything happened to you?”
She wanted to believe that this would work out perfectly, with nothing but trust between them both, but the image of Clover’s body flashing into her mind told her that wasn’t true.
Of course. This was how people were going to react to her the instant they found out she had killed someone from now on, if they didn’t just decide to attack or shoot her instead. Friends, enemies, acquaintances she had only passed by in the corridor at school; all of them would react with fear and suspicion whenever they ran into her. Again, if she was lucky. Again, if they didn’t instead react with hatred and anger.
Faye flinched the moment she felt Mo’s hand on her shoulder, whimpering softly. She waited for him to tell her to get lost, that he didn’t want to associate with murderers, especially when he was in more danger than anyone else because of who he was.
But those words never came, and Faye lifted her head up and looked into Mo’s eyes as he told her that he believed her. She looked at him, wide-eyed, listened, felt her heart begin to repair itself and her blood start pumping through her veins again.
“Maybe…”
She blinked and realised that there was still a piece of her heart missing, still little skips in her circulation where she felt empty and lost again.
“It’d be… real nice to figure this all out with someone I can trust… Someone I can stick around with for a while…”
But did he completely and utterly trust her? No. He couldn’t. His reaction when she’d told him she’d killed someone was evidence enough of that. Even if he’d managed to hide his shock and fear, she was still certain there’d still be some part of him that couldn’t trust her, a part of him that would keep one eye open whilst he slept because he was teaming up with a girl with blood on her hands.
“Have you… Are you okay, Mo? Has anything happened to you?”
She wanted to believe that this would work out perfectly, with nothing but trust between them both, but the image of Clover’s body flashing into her mind told her that wasn’t true.
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Catche Jagger
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Mo’s heart sank as he felt Faye flinch at his touch. How was he going to help her? Was it even possible? The doubts that he had pushed away not moments ago seemed prepared to return with a vengeance. Then, she spoke up again.
“Maybe… It’d be… real nice to figure this all out with someone I can trust… Someone I can stick around with for a while…”
The smile on his face started to feel a bit more sincere as a rush of relief came over him. There was a chance. Neither of them would have to go it alone.
Mo let out a laugh upon hearing her question for him. It still wasn’t a joyful sound, though, it was soft and more than a little sad. What had he done? Wandered around alone, hiding like a coward at the slightest sign of another student? It seemed pretty pathetic to him now.
“I’m fine.” he replied after a moment. “I’ve just been trying to figure out what the hell I’m going to do out here.”
As he thought about it, he supposed it might be a good idea to mention the guy in the cafe, too. “You’re only the second person I’ve spoken with out here, if I’m being honest. The only other guy… I talked with him through some door in a cafe.”
“Well, that’s not really right.” He corrected himself. “I talked, he threatened me and said he had a gun... Not sure if he had one but I didn’t plan on sticking around. And so, here I am.” Mo finished he story with a bit of a flourish of his hand.
He could tell Faye still wasn’t entirely convinced by what he proposed, so he decided to try being completely honest with her and with himself.
“Look, I just don’t want being here to… to…” His voice cracked ever so slightly “to turn me into something I’m not. I don’t want to play. I don’t want to want to win.” Mo started to get lost while trying to articulate his feelings. He could feel his face starting to grow hot as he began to grow more emotional, but he couldn’t cry. He had to be stronger than that.
Why not change? You’ve already let this world shape you, let it make you pretend to be something you’re not.
“That’s something that I’m not sure I can do on my own. I think I need someone who can watch my back.” He spoke evenly, his eyes unable to meet Faye’s. That might just be too much openness for him to take.
“I think… I think you’re a good person, Faye.”
And all he could do was hope that he was right.
“Maybe… It’d be… real nice to figure this all out with someone I can trust… Someone I can stick around with for a while…”
The smile on his face started to feel a bit more sincere as a rush of relief came over him. There was a chance. Neither of them would have to go it alone.
Mo let out a laugh upon hearing her question for him. It still wasn’t a joyful sound, though, it was soft and more than a little sad. What had he done? Wandered around alone, hiding like a coward at the slightest sign of another student? It seemed pretty pathetic to him now.
“I’m fine.” he replied after a moment. “I’ve just been trying to figure out what the hell I’m going to do out here.”
As he thought about it, he supposed it might be a good idea to mention the guy in the cafe, too. “You’re only the second person I’ve spoken with out here, if I’m being honest. The only other guy… I talked with him through some door in a cafe.”
“Well, that’s not really right.” He corrected himself. “I talked, he threatened me and said he had a gun... Not sure if he had one but I didn’t plan on sticking around. And so, here I am.” Mo finished he story with a bit of a flourish of his hand.
He could tell Faye still wasn’t entirely convinced by what he proposed, so he decided to try being completely honest with her and with himself.
“Look, I just don’t want being here to… to…” His voice cracked ever so slightly “to turn me into something I’m not. I don’t want to play. I don’t want to want to win.” Mo started to get lost while trying to articulate his feelings. He could feel his face starting to grow hot as he began to grow more emotional, but he couldn’t cry. He had to be stronger than that.
Why not change? You’ve already let this world shape you, let it make you pretend to be something you’re not.
“That’s something that I’m not sure I can do on my own. I think I need someone who can watch my back.” He spoke evenly, his eyes unable to meet Faye’s. That might just be too much openness for him to take.
“I think… I think you’re a good person, Faye.”
And all he could do was hope that he was right.
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Pippi
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”I don’t.
The words actually managed to escape Faye’s lips before she could stop them from leaving. Her tiny, shaky voice finally proved itself useful for something; she could barely even hear herself. The only evidence that she’d said anything at all was the gentle movement of her mouth. Maybe Mo wouldn’t have even noticed it. Maybe he would but he wouldn’t pry any further.
Maybe. That was the most she could hope for, and even as Mo tried his hardest to reassure her that everything would be okay, that they could survive this together without hurting anyone, even that hope seemed like a lightyear away, and falling even further and further down from where she was standing.
She tried to breathe, and she must have managed it because she was still standing and desperately blinking away tears, but it sure as hell didn’t feel like it.
Mo had already run into someone who had threatened him, and she herself had… she had Clover. The first day wasn’t even over yet, and people had already decided that aiming to be the last person standing was the best option available. How many more of her classmates had gone down that route, even as they were standing here? Mo himself had said that he didn’t think he could avoid that if he was by himself. How could he guarantee that sticking with Faye would keep him off of it?
After all, what were the chances of someone coming to rescue them? There had been countless runs of this program since Faye had been born. Not once had some vigilante group appeared to save as many kids as they could, nor had there been a group of escapees, managing to break free of the confines of their gladiatorial arena.
Time would pass. Despair would grow. Something would break.
“Thank you…” she murmured anyway.
She took in a deep, shuddering breath and let it out again.
“I can do that,” she said. “Watch your back, I mean. I think I might go insane if I’m left by myself.”
A moment passed. Before she realised what she was doing, she was wrapping her arms around Mo, burying her face into his chest, pulling herself into a tight hug.
“Please stay with me. I don’t… I don’t know who I can trust out here…”
Even though she was holding onto him as if her life depended on it, that list included Mo.
The words actually managed to escape Faye’s lips before she could stop them from leaving. Her tiny, shaky voice finally proved itself useful for something; she could barely even hear herself. The only evidence that she’d said anything at all was the gentle movement of her mouth. Maybe Mo wouldn’t have even noticed it. Maybe he would but he wouldn’t pry any further.
Maybe. That was the most she could hope for, and even as Mo tried his hardest to reassure her that everything would be okay, that they could survive this together without hurting anyone, even that hope seemed like a lightyear away, and falling even further and further down from where she was standing.
She tried to breathe, and she must have managed it because she was still standing and desperately blinking away tears, but it sure as hell didn’t feel like it.
Mo had already run into someone who had threatened him, and she herself had… she had Clover. The first day wasn’t even over yet, and people had already decided that aiming to be the last person standing was the best option available. How many more of her classmates had gone down that route, even as they were standing here? Mo himself had said that he didn’t think he could avoid that if he was by himself. How could he guarantee that sticking with Faye would keep him off of it?
After all, what were the chances of someone coming to rescue them? There had been countless runs of this program since Faye had been born. Not once had some vigilante group appeared to save as many kids as they could, nor had there been a group of escapees, managing to break free of the confines of their gladiatorial arena.
Time would pass. Despair would grow. Something would break.
“Thank you…” she murmured anyway.
She took in a deep, shuddering breath and let it out again.
“I can do that,” she said. “Watch your back, I mean. I think I might go insane if I’m left by myself.”
A moment passed. Before she realised what she was doing, she was wrapping her arms around Mo, burying her face into his chest, pulling herself into a tight hug.
“Please stay with me. I don’t… I don’t know who I can trust out here…”
Even though she was holding onto him as if her life depended on it, that list included Mo.
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Catche Jagger
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“I don’t.”
The words were quiet, barely audible, but they still struck Mo harder than he thought they might. Faye still didn’t quite believe him. Mo wasn’t sure what he’d have to help this girl, or even if he could considering their situation.
What the young athlete did know was that he felt terrible for what had happened to this girl. Faye was torn up over a choice that she’d been forced to make and now it seemed that she didn’t think she could trust herself. That had to mean that she was good at her core though, right? Or is that just how you want things to be?
This day had brought with it many questions and many more doubts, but felt that he had come up with few answers that would be satisfying in the long run…
Then came the magic words:
“I can do that,”
Mo’s doubts started to slink away. That’s it! There is a chance, there’s hope.
Letting out a sigh of relief, Mo began to speak again, wanting to establish some plan going forward. He’d wanted to advise that the two of them leave the market and stay on the move to avoid possible threats, but thoughts and words escaped him as he felt Faye’s arms wrap around him.
He had tightened as she held him tight. The reaction was not one of fear, but rather of sincere surprise and engagement. He hadn’t been expecting a hug, let alone one like this. Faye was a white girl and this was exactly the sort of thing that could’ve meant a fair bit of trouble back at school. Though I’m already in about as much trouble as I could be, aren’t I?
In spite of his instincts, Mo returned Faye’s hug, patting her gently on the back. “It’s okay. You’ve got me and I’m not leaving you. I promise.” He spoke in kind, soothing voice. The young athlete couldn’t help but let out a light laugh as he pulled away from Faye’s grip slightly. He gave a quick glance to his left and right, before looking down to meet her eyes.
“I am thinking it might not be best to hang around here too long, though. It’s kinda… open here.” He said with a careful and considered tone, not wanting to startle Faye by pushing right along to the next matter at hand.
“So, what do you say?” He asked, extending his hand to offer a somewhat awkward handshake.
The words were quiet, barely audible, but they still struck Mo harder than he thought they might. Faye still didn’t quite believe him. Mo wasn’t sure what he’d have to help this girl, or even if he could considering their situation.
What the young athlete did know was that he felt terrible for what had happened to this girl. Faye was torn up over a choice that she’d been forced to make and now it seemed that she didn’t think she could trust herself. That had to mean that she was good at her core though, right? Or is that just how you want things to be?
This day had brought with it many questions and many more doubts, but felt that he had come up with few answers that would be satisfying in the long run…
Then came the magic words:
“I can do that,”
Mo’s doubts started to slink away. That’s it! There is a chance, there’s hope.
Letting out a sigh of relief, Mo began to speak again, wanting to establish some plan going forward. He’d wanted to advise that the two of them leave the market and stay on the move to avoid possible threats, but thoughts and words escaped him as he felt Faye’s arms wrap around him.
He had tightened as she held him tight. The reaction was not one of fear, but rather of sincere surprise and engagement. He hadn’t been expecting a hug, let alone one like this. Faye was a white girl and this was exactly the sort of thing that could’ve meant a fair bit of trouble back at school. Though I’m already in about as much trouble as I could be, aren’t I?
In spite of his instincts, Mo returned Faye’s hug, patting her gently on the back. “It’s okay. You’ve got me and I’m not leaving you. I promise.” He spoke in kind, soothing voice. The young athlete couldn’t help but let out a light laugh as he pulled away from Faye’s grip slightly. He gave a quick glance to his left and right, before looking down to meet her eyes.
“I am thinking it might not be best to hang around here too long, though. It’s kinda… open here.” He said with a careful and considered tone, not wanting to startle Faye by pushing right along to the next matter at hand.
“So, what do you say?” He asked, extending his hand to offer a somewhat awkward handshake.
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Pippi
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It was warm in Mo’s embrace. Soft. Safe. Faye wanted to stay there forever, as her feelings started to slip away, face pressed into Mo’s shirt. Maybe she could. Maybe they both could. Maybe they didn’t have to do anything anymore. They could let the world go to ruin around them. She was just so tired already, but here she could rest. She was comfortable. Drifting. Weightless.
Vulnerable.
And as Mo broke away, all of Faye’s feelings and thoughts and emotions poured back into her, like she was a bottle under a faucet, pooling up inside of her and spilling out onto the water-slick floor of the wet market. Everyone out there? They wouldn’t give a damn how safe Faye felt. They weren’t going to stop killing or change their minds because one scared little girl felt at ease for the first time in 24 hours. They’d kill her, and they’d kill Mo too, and they’d walk away and forget about their names and their lives and anything about them other than that they were just two tally marks on their kill sheet.
She looked into Mo’s eyes, desperately trying to hide the fear on her face, nodding along to his words to mask that she was shaking again. Her eyes flicked down to his outstretched arm, and after a moment’s pause and a deep breath, she took his hand. It was a weak handshake, really, but she doubted Mo would mind that. She was feeling weak all over, after all.
“Yeah… I agree,” she said, offering her best attempt at a smile. “I don’t really fancy crouching down behind one of those stalls in the dirty water for hours. Plus it kinda stinks… and I’m getting cold…”
Faye squeezed Mo’s hand and looked up into his eyes.
“We’ll stick together until the end.”
She didn’t want to think about how far off that time would be.
“Lead the way?”
Vulnerable.
And as Mo broke away, all of Faye’s feelings and thoughts and emotions poured back into her, like she was a bottle under a faucet, pooling up inside of her and spilling out onto the water-slick floor of the wet market. Everyone out there? They wouldn’t give a damn how safe Faye felt. They weren’t going to stop killing or change their minds because one scared little girl felt at ease for the first time in 24 hours. They’d kill her, and they’d kill Mo too, and they’d walk away and forget about their names and their lives and anything about them other than that they were just two tally marks on their kill sheet.
She looked into Mo’s eyes, desperately trying to hide the fear on her face, nodding along to his words to mask that she was shaking again. Her eyes flicked down to his outstretched arm, and after a moment’s pause and a deep breath, she took his hand. It was a weak handshake, really, but she doubted Mo would mind that. She was feeling weak all over, after all.
“Yeah… I agree,” she said, offering her best attempt at a smile. “I don’t really fancy crouching down behind one of those stalls in the dirty water for hours. Plus it kinda stinks… and I’m getting cold…”
Faye squeezed Mo’s hand and looked up into his eyes.
“We’ll stick together until the end.”
She didn’t want to think about how far off that time would be.
“Lead the way?”
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Catche Jagger
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“Until the very end.” Mo repeated the words back to Faye. It felt good, having someone that he could trust in a place like this. The handshake had been weak, and he could tell that she was still extremely frightened. He believed, hoped that it would go away with time, as the two learned to rely on one another.
He felt her hand squeeze his tightly and here he did not tense up. Instead, he kept his grip steady and reassuring. If they were going to stick together, he couldn’t lose his head over a bit of casual contact.
“It would be my pleasure.” He replied, his voice carrying a cheerful inflection. He had someone looking out for him, someone to look out for, and it felt surprisingly rewarding.
For a moment, the boy envisioned himself as Faye’s protector: comforting her when she was frightened and chasing off those who might try to harm her. Perhaps she might even… The thought made him chuckle quietly to himself. The idea was quaint, but just that. His current reality made no room for such notions and flights of fancy.
“Right this way…”
((Muhammad Abbasi continued in Quietus))
He felt her hand squeeze his tightly and here he did not tense up. Instead, he kept his grip steady and reassuring. If they were going to stick together, he couldn’t lose his head over a bit of casual contact.
“It would be my pleasure.” He replied, his voice carrying a cheerful inflection. He had someone looking out for him, someone to look out for, and it felt surprisingly rewarding.
For a moment, the boy envisioned himself as Faye’s protector: comforting her when she was frightened and chasing off those who might try to harm her. Perhaps she might even… The thought made him chuckle quietly to himself. The idea was quaint, but just that. His current reality made no room for such notions and flights of fancy.
“Right this way…”
((Muhammad Abbasi continued in Quietus))
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Pippi
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And they were on their way. Somewhere, anywhere, it really didn't matter where they went. They would run into people in every corner of this town. There was no 'safe zone'. They just needed to hope they got lucky, and kept on getting lucky, until... well...
Until the end.
Faye double checked herself, making sure she had everything she needed. Her bag was firmly strapped across her shoulder, all her food and other equipment still securely within it. Her crossbow, too, was in her hand. She plucked one bolt from her pocket, loading it into her weapon, patting herself down to make sure the other two bolts hadn't fallen out of her clothing. Yeah. She was as ready as she would ever be. Time to go.
Mo seemed to be styling himself as a protector, a guardian, and in some ways, he was, because even now there was a desperate desire within Faye to just bury her face in his chest again and... stop. Just stop everything and hope that the world stopped with her too.
But in many other ways, and in the most important way, he wasn't. Because Mo himself had said he didn't plan on playing, didn't want to use his weapon. Neither did Faye. If she had the choice, she would have snapped her crossbow in two and thrown it into the ocean. But other people weren't going to give her the choice. She didn't trust anyone, couldn't trust anyone. She had thought she could trust Clover, a girl she had considered a close friend, and how had that turned out?
She wasn't about to turn into a player. She wouldn't let that happen to her. But she couldn't let her guard down to anyone anymore. No matter who it was.
If anyone made the slightest suggestion they were going to attack her, Faye was going to kill them first.
((Faye Xandora continued in Quietus.))
Until the end.
Faye double checked herself, making sure she had everything she needed. Her bag was firmly strapped across her shoulder, all her food and other equipment still securely within it. Her crossbow, too, was in her hand. She plucked one bolt from her pocket, loading it into her weapon, patting herself down to make sure the other two bolts hadn't fallen out of her clothing. Yeah. She was as ready as she would ever be. Time to go.
Mo seemed to be styling himself as a protector, a guardian, and in some ways, he was, because even now there was a desperate desire within Faye to just bury her face in his chest again and... stop. Just stop everything and hope that the world stopped with her too.
But in many other ways, and in the most important way, he wasn't. Because Mo himself had said he didn't plan on playing, didn't want to use his weapon. Neither did Faye. If she had the choice, she would have snapped her crossbow in two and thrown it into the ocean. But other people weren't going to give her the choice. She didn't trust anyone, couldn't trust anyone. She had thought she could trust Clover, a girl she had considered a close friend, and how had that turned out?
She wasn't about to turn into a player. She wouldn't let that happen to her. But she couldn't let her guard down to anyone anymore. No matter who it was.
If anyone made the slightest suggestion they were going to attack her, Faye was going to kill them first.
((Faye Xandora continued in Quietus.))