The gunshots kept coming. She heard the sound from inside the room. She saw the bullets punch holes in the door next to her. That could have been her, the gunshots went through the door, they could go through her, oh God she could die, she could really die, why hadn't she run away?
Mason swore and took off in front of her. What? She continued after him. She was backing him up or whatever people called it. She followed just behind Mason as he fired shots at their attacker, Madelyn. She had gone to their school. Lexi wondered what had made her kill those people, four of them she thought. She could be wrong though, she hadn't listened to announcements perfectly and had been more focused on people she'd met, like Shawn and Karen.
Madelyn lifted the gun, pointing it in their direction. Lexi tried to dive to the right, where a table and chairs would give her a chance to hide. She felt the gunshots before she heard them, two hits in her tummy. The cry of pain was leaving her before her dive hit the ground, her gun had clattered beneath the table.
I don't want to die, please no, please no, runshouldhavefunrun.
Oracular Spectacular
Endgame
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Courtography
- Posts: 518
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 11:03 pm
[[OOC: Deeply apologize for the wait. My lifestyle suddenly started being super active/outgoing, the likes of which I've never seen since being a high-schooler.]]
Bullets, bullets everywhere.
Madelyn sent some more through the door, before making her mad dash for cover. Shawn lifted his gun, attempting to steady the aim of his trembling and pained hands at the fleeing girl, when another loud crash thundered across the room. The sound alone, made Shawn dizzy, an almost disorienting feeling as he turned his focus to the source of the big bang.
It was Nate. He knew, because she fired another identical shot right after the first. Then another and another. Her shots were crooked, unfocused after initially looking like she was aiming toward Madelyn. She successfully shot several in that direction, until she started advancing in a wayward, swaying motion as if she were in some sort of trance.
A stray round flew in his direction, slamming itself straight through a nearby table, shattering and splintering it on the surface and another at the leg, collapsing the formerly fancy piece of dining furniture into a ravaged heap on floor.
The urgency was obvious, as Nate's wild fire was too dangerous and powerful to just hide from. He went into a slight crouch, hoping to avoid the scattered pellets from striking him at Nate's arm level as he continued to stay on the move from cover to cover. He couldn't simply stay behind one as her high caliber rifle gun had already proven that it could go right through the hardened material of both the table and the door.
Shawn halted in movement as the door from earlier flung itself open with a slam and a few more pops from a different gun entered the vicinity. He quickly scouted in that direction, just in time to catch a glance of Mason Ross holding his own weapon and unloading. Shawn would have smiled at seeing him there as back-up, but one last round from Nate's gun exploded in his direction once more.
This time it actually hit. Shawn felt Brian Eno's reptilian skin and weight fly from his shoulders, through the air behind him and onto the blood drenched tiles. He grabbed his shoulder and let out a mix between a groan and a yell, cursing in the process from the fresh but shallow wound. Still clutching his shoulder, he remained still trying to concentrate his focus away from the ache and onto the scene around him.
There were more bullets, from different guns. Either that meant more people, or Madelyn was now retaliating against Mason. Very quickly, Shawn looked down at the snake which had earlier been resting on his shoulder. Just by looking at him, Shawn could tell that Brian had taken the brunt of that gunshot; his scaly head was completely destroyed. For a second Shawn closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind and listen. A chill ran down his spine. He pulled his hand away from his shoulder and squeezed his bloody palm back onto his shotgun. Then he continued to position himself forward.
He froze and stopped in his tracks when he saw Nate, face first on the floor in front of him, her gun inches to the side. He hadn't seen what happened, but he did notice that the sound of her gunfire had ended. He put a hand on her and shook.
"Nate?"
There was no reaction. Another chill ran down his spine. Shawn closed his eyes once more, taking a great, deep breath as the gun battle continued around him.
He opened them again, when the sounds petered out for a moment. Shawn was unaware of what it was that happened, but it didn't much matter, because Madelyn was on the move again and he watched her hide out behind a large chair nearby, oblivious that he was a few feet in back of her, watching.
This was it. He could end it now. Shawn stood up with a look of steel in his eyes. He gripped his hands around the shotgun, tighter than ever, afraid he'd lose grasp if he didn't. Madelyn was right there, his shotgun muzzle a few feet from her back. He could shoot her in the back, like she deserved, but it didn't feel right.
"Turn around," he said, pumping his shotgun and aiming right at her.
Madelyn was frozen in her crouching position, her back still facing him. He blasted a round into the chair she was using as cover and pumped the gun again.
"I said turn the fuck around, Madelyn!" He yelled.
Madelyn complied, shuffling from her crouch and turning to face him. Shawn took another breath and then gave his next order. He didn't want to shoot her in the back, but he didn't want to shoot her in that helpless position either.
"Now put your gun on the floor and get up," he said with the shotgun still pointed directly at her head.
She did and she slowly rose to her feet, hands in the air. Shawn didn't know what to make of this.
Now what? He had her right where he wanted her and he still didn't know what to do. Was he supposed to shoot her? Shoot her like he had convinced himself he was going to do this whole time? He looked at her face and thoughts from school and back home began spinning around in his head in accelerated motion. This was his friend. This was Madelyn. They hugged once upon a time.
He stood still, gun pointed straight at her chest for what felt like centuries when in reality it was probably only about a minute or so. He took several deep breaths in rapid succession and his hands began to tremble again, dipping slightly as the steel started to fade from his eyes.
Without warning, Madelyn dropped to the floor.
Shawn felt a thud impact against his torso and another into his leg, right above the knee cap. Shawn began teetering a bit, trying to remain on his two feet, but it wasn't working. His leg buckled and he began to completely lose balance, stumbling backward and onto the floor. He lost grip of his shotgun, which was knocked back and landed with a clatter somewhere out of reach.
With his head lifted, Shawn looked up from his seating position on the floor. He blinked a few times, his head in a slight daze from his fall. Madelyn was in front of him, reloading her weapon. Shawn looked around him, searching for his gun. It was laying several feet in back of him. He tried to push himself up, but the flare of pain seemed to intensify and he knew he'd only collapse again, so soon after just having been shot twice.
Instead, Shawn made an effort to scoot and inch himself to the shotgun, little by little in his seating position on the floor, not wanting to keep his eyes off Madelyn. She was now staring at him carefully, making sure that he was dead. It didn't look like she was satisfied with the result. She stood up, clicked her gun into place and started to slowly approach him.
Unlike himself, Shawn knew by the steady look on her face that Madelyn would have no qualms about killing him from a defenseless position on the ground.
Shawn continued crawling back slowly, using his arms for leverage and dragging himself to his shotgun, still sitting vulnerably in his own trail of blood; the only thing he could do.
Bullets, bullets everywhere.
Madelyn sent some more through the door, before making her mad dash for cover. Shawn lifted his gun, attempting to steady the aim of his trembling and pained hands at the fleeing girl, when another loud crash thundered across the room. The sound alone, made Shawn dizzy, an almost disorienting feeling as he turned his focus to the source of the big bang.
It was Nate. He knew, because she fired another identical shot right after the first. Then another and another. Her shots were crooked, unfocused after initially looking like she was aiming toward Madelyn. She successfully shot several in that direction, until she started advancing in a wayward, swaying motion as if she were in some sort of trance.
A stray round flew in his direction, slamming itself straight through a nearby table, shattering and splintering it on the surface and another at the leg, collapsing the formerly fancy piece of dining furniture into a ravaged heap on floor.
The urgency was obvious, as Nate's wild fire was too dangerous and powerful to just hide from. He went into a slight crouch, hoping to avoid the scattered pellets from striking him at Nate's arm level as he continued to stay on the move from cover to cover. He couldn't simply stay behind one as her high caliber rifle gun had already proven that it could go right through the hardened material of both the table and the door.
Shawn halted in movement as the door from earlier flung itself open with a slam and a few more pops from a different gun entered the vicinity. He quickly scouted in that direction, just in time to catch a glance of Mason Ross holding his own weapon and unloading. Shawn would have smiled at seeing him there as back-up, but one last round from Nate's gun exploded in his direction once more.
This time it actually hit. Shawn felt Brian Eno's reptilian skin and weight fly from his shoulders, through the air behind him and onto the blood drenched tiles. He grabbed his shoulder and let out a mix between a groan and a yell, cursing in the process from the fresh but shallow wound. Still clutching his shoulder, he remained still trying to concentrate his focus away from the ache and onto the scene around him.
There were more bullets, from different guns. Either that meant more people, or Madelyn was now retaliating against Mason. Very quickly, Shawn looked down at the snake which had earlier been resting on his shoulder. Just by looking at him, Shawn could tell that Brian had taken the brunt of that gunshot; his scaly head was completely destroyed. For a second Shawn closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind and listen. A chill ran down his spine. He pulled his hand away from his shoulder and squeezed his bloody palm back onto his shotgun. Then he continued to position himself forward.
He froze and stopped in his tracks when he saw Nate, face first on the floor in front of him, her gun inches to the side. He hadn't seen what happened, but he did notice that the sound of her gunfire had ended. He put a hand on her and shook.
"Nate?"
There was no reaction. Another chill ran down his spine. Shawn closed his eyes once more, taking a great, deep breath as the gun battle continued around him.
He opened them again, when the sounds petered out for a moment. Shawn was unaware of what it was that happened, but it didn't much matter, because Madelyn was on the move again and he watched her hide out behind a large chair nearby, oblivious that he was a few feet in back of her, watching.
This was it. He could end it now. Shawn stood up with a look of steel in his eyes. He gripped his hands around the shotgun, tighter than ever, afraid he'd lose grasp if he didn't. Madelyn was right there, his shotgun muzzle a few feet from her back. He could shoot her in the back, like she deserved, but it didn't feel right.
"Turn around," he said, pumping his shotgun and aiming right at her.
Madelyn was frozen in her crouching position, her back still facing him. He blasted a round into the chair she was using as cover and pumped the gun again.
"I said turn the fuck around, Madelyn!" He yelled.
Madelyn complied, shuffling from her crouch and turning to face him. Shawn took another breath and then gave his next order. He didn't want to shoot her in the back, but he didn't want to shoot her in that helpless position either.
"Now put your gun on the floor and get up," he said with the shotgun still pointed directly at her head.
She did and she slowly rose to her feet, hands in the air. Shawn didn't know what to make of this.
Now what? He had her right where he wanted her and he still didn't know what to do. Was he supposed to shoot her? Shoot her like he had convinced himself he was going to do this whole time? He looked at her face and thoughts from school and back home began spinning around in his head in accelerated motion. This was his friend. This was Madelyn. They hugged once upon a time.
He stood still, gun pointed straight at her chest for what felt like centuries when in reality it was probably only about a minute or so. He took several deep breaths in rapid succession and his hands began to tremble again, dipping slightly as the steel started to fade from his eyes.
Without warning, Madelyn dropped to the floor.
Shawn felt a thud impact against his torso and another into his leg, right above the knee cap. Shawn began teetering a bit, trying to remain on his two feet, but it wasn't working. His leg buckled and he began to completely lose balance, stumbling backward and onto the floor. He lost grip of his shotgun, which was knocked back and landed with a clatter somewhere out of reach.
With his head lifted, Shawn looked up from his seating position on the floor. He blinked a few times, his head in a slight daze from his fall. Madelyn was in front of him, reloading her weapon. Shawn looked around him, searching for his gun. It was laying several feet in back of him. He tried to push himself up, but the flare of pain seemed to intensify and he knew he'd only collapse again, so soon after just having been shot twice.
Instead, Shawn made an effort to scoot and inch himself to the shotgun, little by little in his seating position on the floor, not wanting to keep his eyes off Madelyn. She was now staring at him carefully, making sure that he was dead. It didn't look like she was satisfied with the result. She stood up, clicked her gun into place and started to slowly approach him.
Unlike himself, Shawn knew by the steady look on her face that Madelyn would have no qualms about killing him from a defenseless position on the ground.
Shawn continued crawling back slowly, using his arms for leverage and dragging himself to his shotgun, still sitting vulnerably in his own trail of blood; the only thing he could do.
From the second Madelyn heard Shawn speak behind her, she was trying to figure out how to turn the situation back around. That he had chosen to alert her to his presence, that he had only one kill to his name, that he had tried to talk to her earlier, it all suggested to Madelyn that his heart wasn't in this. However he had made it this far, he didn't have the right stuff to do what needed to be done to ensure his survival. Madelyn almost felt bad for him, still so ignorant of how far in over his head he was.
Almost.
It didn't stop her from shooting him when he slipped up.
Now, Shawn was crawling along the floor, trying to get to his gun. Madelyn knew he wouldn't make it. She had her weapon trained on him, She'd reloaded it, and she knew he wasn't down for the count. He also wasn't deserving of her entire attention, though. There could be otehr dangers still lurking. She glanced around, trying to see what was going on, who was still standing.
Lexi was down. Madelyn got just a glimpse of her, but it looked like she was in a bad state. Mason wasn't attacking just this second, maybe distracted by Lexi, maybe scrambling for cover. He wouldn't be a challenge in a one-on-one fight, and that was what this was about to be. Shawn was effectively down for the count, as was Nate.
Somehow, it had all worked out. Madelyn had won. Oh, sure, there was still Odile lurking somewhere else in the hotel. That would be the real challenge; the girl was tricky and actually had earned her place here. Still, that worry was for the future. For now, Madelyn had come out on top in a fight between almost everyone left alive. She let a smile creep across her face as she turned back to Shawn. Despite the pain wracking her body, despite the blood dripping in a trail behind her, despite all the suffering and loss she'd faced up to this point, she could still find some happiness, because it had a point. In the end, it had all been worth it.
She leveled her gun and took a deep breath.
Almost.
It didn't stop her from shooting him when he slipped up.
Now, Shawn was crawling along the floor, trying to get to his gun. Madelyn knew he wouldn't make it. She had her weapon trained on him, She'd reloaded it, and she knew he wasn't down for the count. He also wasn't deserving of her entire attention, though. There could be otehr dangers still lurking. She glanced around, trying to see what was going on, who was still standing.
Lexi was down. Madelyn got just a glimpse of her, but it looked like she was in a bad state. Mason wasn't attacking just this second, maybe distracted by Lexi, maybe scrambling for cover. He wouldn't be a challenge in a one-on-one fight, and that was what this was about to be. Shawn was effectively down for the count, as was Nate.
Somehow, it had all worked out. Madelyn had won. Oh, sure, there was still Odile lurking somewhere else in the hotel. That would be the real challenge; the girl was tricky and actually had earned her place here. Still, that worry was for the future. For now, Madelyn had come out on top in a fight between almost everyone left alive. She let a smile creep across her face as she turned back to Shawn. Despite the pain wracking her body, despite the blood dripping in a trail behind her, despite all the suffering and loss she'd faced up to this point, she could still find some happiness, because it had a point. In the end, it had all been worth it.
She leveled her gun and took a deep breath.
In the chaos, Lexi went down. Instead of immediately firing another salvo, Mason moved with her, to check her.
Oh come on. Come the fuck ON.
She'd been hit, that was much certain. Her shirt had turned crimson. Mason clenched his teeth, concern fighting with a wave of rage. This, all of this, was bullshit. It needed to fucking end.
"Stay down." He whispered to Lexi, though he doubted the instruction was necessary.
In all the shooting, all the danger, Mason had a fix on Madelyn's position. He pictured it now, as he sprang off of his haunches and to his feet.
This would be just like with Timothy. Except he got the feeling he wouldn't regret it this time.
The barrel of the Beretta snapped up, sighting on Madelyn's form, the view of her getting ready to open fire and finish off Shawn spurring Mason to move quicker.
He wanted to have some witty rejoinder, some great one-liner to close this bitch's night out on, but he was so wracked with the injustice of it all, the impending grief, that he could only roar an inarticulate animal cry as he squeezed the trigger. Again, and again.
The Beretta spoke, coughing four prolonged spurts of burst fire before spitting a smaller, two-round burst, the magazine dry. Mason kept pulling the trigger anyway, the hammer clicking loudly on the empty chamber.
Oh come on. Come the fuck ON.
She'd been hit, that was much certain. Her shirt had turned crimson. Mason clenched his teeth, concern fighting with a wave of rage. This, all of this, was bullshit. It needed to fucking end.
"Stay down." He whispered to Lexi, though he doubted the instruction was necessary.
In all the shooting, all the danger, Mason had a fix on Madelyn's position. He pictured it now, as he sprang off of his haunches and to his feet.
This would be just like with Timothy. Except he got the feeling he wouldn't regret it this time.
The barrel of the Beretta snapped up, sighting on Madelyn's form, the view of her getting ready to open fire and finish off Shawn spurring Mason to move quicker.
He wanted to have some witty rejoinder, some great one-liner to close this bitch's night out on, but he was so wracked with the injustice of it all, the impending grief, that he could only roar an inarticulate animal cry as he squeezed the trigger. Again, and again.
The Beretta spoke, coughing four prolonged spurts of burst fire before spitting a smaller, two-round burst, the magazine dry. Mason kept pulling the trigger anyway, the hammer clicking loudly on the empty chamber.
It was so close. Madelyn was about to pull the trigger and finish Shawn off, when she heard a sound from off to the side. Movement, and just after she'd turned away. It was just a second too late, just a second past the point when she could have notched up another kill with a single squeeze of her finger. She let out a growl of frustration as she spun back to the source of the sound.
Mason. Mason had stood up, and he was pointing his gun, and there wasn't much Madelyn could do except snap her own into position.
She managed two shots as he fired on her, and then everything was chaos.
Mason. Mason had stood up, and he was pointing his gun, and there wasn't much Madelyn could do except snap her own into position.
She managed two shots as he fired on her, and then everything was chaos.
A primal roar resonated through the entire room seconds after Shawn stared directly into the eye of what he thought was his impending fate. The muzzle of Mad's gun.
Mason was charging forward right at his attacker, gun aimed and firing in a manner fitting his war cry. Madelyn turned to retaliate immediately, pulling attention away from Shawn, changing his fate as well as her own. A burst of scattered bullets flew through the air both ways. Chaos.
Shawn continued pushing back along the floor, his fingers suddenly feeling the familiar material of his shotgun behind him. By now, Shawn wasn't thinking. He wasn't thinking about friendship, about revenge, about saving anyone, not even himself. It was adrenaline, adrenaline and instinct telling him to grab it and shoot. Stop the chaos. Stop Madelyn.
With one hand, Shawn swung the gun to his front against his chest and held it firmly in both arms. He pumped the shotgun once more, still seated on the blood matted tile floor and lifted the firearm into the air. Shawn took a few seconds to steady his trembling hands, a second to aim and then a second later, he fired.
One round. Just one time.
Mason was charging forward right at his attacker, gun aimed and firing in a manner fitting his war cry. Madelyn turned to retaliate immediately, pulling attention away from Shawn, changing his fate as well as her own. A burst of scattered bullets flew through the air both ways. Chaos.
Shawn continued pushing back along the floor, his fingers suddenly feeling the familiar material of his shotgun behind him. By now, Shawn wasn't thinking. He wasn't thinking about friendship, about revenge, about saving anyone, not even himself. It was adrenaline, adrenaline and instinct telling him to grab it and shoot. Stop the chaos. Stop Madelyn.
With one hand, Shawn swung the gun to his front against his chest and held it firmly in both arms. He pumped the shotgun once more, still seated on the blood matted tile floor and lifted the firearm into the air. Shawn took a few seconds to steady his trembling hands, a second to aim and then a second later, he fired.
One round. Just one time.
Mason's assault connected with Madelyn. Not every shot hit, but not every one had to. She didn't know if her own attack had connected. She couldn't focus on anything. The pain was so bad it was numbing out everything else, and her vision was obscured. Maybe blood had gotten into her eyes from somewhere. She couldn't figure out where, though. There was nobody above her who could be bleeding.
That wasn't anywhere near as important as something else, something Madelyn was just now realizing, despite the denial trying to force it from her head: she wasn't going to win. In the space of seconds, she had gone from top of the world to facing certain death, and she couldn't do anything about it. She'd underestimated Mason, and now it didn't matter what Odile was doing or who won this because it wouldn't be her. She wouldn't get to see it, wouldn't get to live the rest of her life, wouldn't get to make more of herself than what she'd made herself into here. Suddenly, those murders amounted to nothing, just like all the actions of everyone else who had died here.
It all made her livid. She'd kill them for this. She'd see Shawn and Mason and Lexi dead. She'd see everyone dead, make sure no one else got off this island alive if she couldn't. It wouldn't help, but she'd take them all with her.
She was staggering now, even as the gunfire still erupted around her. She attempted to enact her revenge, but she couldn't move the arm that held her gun anymore. Her muscles weren't responding at all, weren't moving or sending pain or anything. She thought she could make out red on her arm, but maybe it was just whatever was in her eyes. She didn't even know if she was still holding the gun.
The last of Mason's shots was joined by a louder boom, a force from Shawn's direction that impacted Madelyn in the side and finally destroyed her remaining balance. She toppled to the ground, but she barely felt the impact. She wanted to scream at them, to kill them, to try again, to call a do-over or find some way out of this, but there was no way out. She was helpless, just like the boy she had strangled had been helpless, and she only now could truly understand what he must have felt in those last few seconds.
There was nothing she could do. No amount of anger or regret would change that. Madelyn's eyes closed, or maybe the world just went black. It didn't matter, because either way her thoughts stopped and her breathing quickly followed.
That wasn't anywhere near as important as something else, something Madelyn was just now realizing, despite the denial trying to force it from her head: she wasn't going to win. In the space of seconds, she had gone from top of the world to facing certain death, and she couldn't do anything about it. She'd underestimated Mason, and now it didn't matter what Odile was doing or who won this because it wouldn't be her. She wouldn't get to see it, wouldn't get to live the rest of her life, wouldn't get to make more of herself than what she'd made herself into here. Suddenly, those murders amounted to nothing, just like all the actions of everyone else who had died here.
It all made her livid. She'd kill them for this. She'd see Shawn and Mason and Lexi dead. She'd see everyone dead, make sure no one else got off this island alive if she couldn't. It wouldn't help, but she'd take them all with her.
She was staggering now, even as the gunfire still erupted around her. She attempted to enact her revenge, but she couldn't move the arm that held her gun anymore. Her muscles weren't responding at all, weren't moving or sending pain or anything. She thought she could make out red on her arm, but maybe it was just whatever was in her eyes. She didn't even know if she was still holding the gun.
The last of Mason's shots was joined by a louder boom, a force from Shawn's direction that impacted Madelyn in the side and finally destroyed her remaining balance. She toppled to the ground, but she barely felt the impact. She wanted to scream at them, to kill them, to try again, to call a do-over or find some way out of this, but there was no way out. She was helpless, just like the boy she had strangled had been helpless, and she only now could truly understand what he must have felt in those last few seconds.
There was nothing she could do. No amount of anger or regret would change that. Madelyn's eyes closed, or maybe the world just went black. It didn't matter, because either way her thoughts stopped and her breathing quickly followed.
PRP1: MADELYN CONNOR: DECEASED
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Courtography
- Posts: 518
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 11:03 pm
The gasps kept shuddering their way out of her chest. She heard more gunshots, but they seemed so far away now. Like they were all the way across the island, or back home, or the moon, some other place she probably wouldn't get to see again.
She didn't want to think like that, but she'd seen enough of the show. Those shot in the torso rarely lived, especially if they hadn't shown they were tough. She just ran away, she hadn't fought or killed. Doomed. She felt tears flow down her face, running together into the rapidly darkening stains in her layers of clothes.
She'd never see her family again, or her friends. She'd never get to go on a first date with a boy. She wouldn't be an interior designer. Heck, she wouldn't even be able to roll her eyes in a science class ever again. She wouldn't be able to finish her copy of Wuthering Heights that she'd left on her nightstand before that horrible day of school.
It wasn't fair.
She didn't want to think like that, but she'd seen enough of the show. Those shot in the torso rarely lived, especially if they hadn't shown they were tough. She just ran away, she hadn't fought or killed. Doomed. She felt tears flow down her face, running together into the rapidly darkening stains in her layers of clothes.
She'd never see her family again, or her friends. She'd never get to go on a first date with a boy. She wouldn't be an interior designer. Heck, she wouldn't even be able to roll her eyes in a science class ever again. She wouldn't be able to finish her copy of Wuthering Heights that she'd left on her nightstand before that horrible day of school.
It wasn't fair.
After the fifth click, Mason wound up in a fit of rage and pitched the gun over hand at where the girl had fallen. Not the best idea, considering he wasn't sure she was down. But there were very few fucks that he gave right now.
Although he did remember Lexi.
His eyes went wide in horror as he spun on his heels and dropped to where Lexi had been shot. He wasn't a doctor (despite how much his fucking dad wanted him to be), but she was bleeding. All over the place. It had to be an artery or an organ or something else that got hit, because most of Lexi was not on the inside anymore..
He put his hands on her shoulders, hoping it was some small comfort.
"Hey, hey. It'll be ok, alright? Stay with me."
He didn't yet know how much of a liar he was.
Although he did remember Lexi.
His eyes went wide in horror as he spun on his heels and dropped to where Lexi had been shot. He wasn't a doctor (despite how much his fucking dad wanted him to be), but she was bleeding. All over the place. It had to be an artery or an organ or something else that got hit, because most of Lexi was not on the inside anymore..
He put his hands on her shoulders, hoping it was some small comfort.
"Hey, hey. It'll be ok, alright? Stay with me."
He didn't yet know how much of a liar he was.
Rosy-Tinted Flash.
The only thing Shawn was at all aware of was the shotgun recoiling back into him from the awkward way he had held it, knocking him back down from his up-seated position and sending the back of his upper body slamming onto the floor and dazing him once more.
All his senses spun in disarray: a throbbing in his head, a ringing in his ear, pain from his multiple injuries and a numbing sensation in others.
He could only see the ceiling now. He couldn't really hear anything, just the sense of quiet, and the sort where you know you're supposed hear something, but can't, just the silent whistle. Shawn tried to force himself to sit up, but when he did an assortment of flittering, miniature white stars begun to appear, whiting out his vision. If that wasn't bad enough, Shawn suddenly felt a dull thump against his head, and he found himself once again lying on the floor next to his shotgun, a pistol lying on the floor a few feet from his head.
Shawn didn't even groan. His body intrinsically writhed slowly on the ground trying to figure out how to deal with it all, but not really knowing what to do. His leg felt useless, his body uncooperative and it felt like his life was literally being sapped out from him and maybe it was. It could explain the wetness he felt whenever his hands touched a specific part of his torso and why the warmth seemed to be clinging onto his hand like glue. Every attempted movement was a struggle, so he opted to let his body do its own thing and not force the issue.
This must have been how Nate felt over those last few hours, physically helpless and just taking each second as it came. He'd try again in a few minutes if he was still alive. If Madelyn or someone else didn't decide to finish him off before he could move that is. He had no idea what was happening around him and he didn't have the convenience to even think or care about any of that at the moment. If he did have the capacity to think clearly, he would have hoped that Mason and Alexis were safe, but he wasn't lucid. Everything was merely a blur.
For now, Shawn allowed the world to spin in a multitude of colors above him. The whole thing was like a crazy acid trip, more kick-awesome than any other he'd ever experienced before. The psychedelic swirls of neon would have made him smile, if he had the life force or energy to do so. Instead he closed his eyes and went immobile for a few seconds. It was like: whoa.
The only thing Shawn was at all aware of was the shotgun recoiling back into him from the awkward way he had held it, knocking him back down from his up-seated position and sending the back of his upper body slamming onto the floor and dazing him once more.
All his senses spun in disarray: a throbbing in his head, a ringing in his ear, pain from his multiple injuries and a numbing sensation in others.
He could only see the ceiling now. He couldn't really hear anything, just the sense of quiet, and the sort where you know you're supposed hear something, but can't, just the silent whistle. Shawn tried to force himself to sit up, but when he did an assortment of flittering, miniature white stars begun to appear, whiting out his vision. If that wasn't bad enough, Shawn suddenly felt a dull thump against his head, and he found himself once again lying on the floor next to his shotgun, a pistol lying on the floor a few feet from his head.
Shawn didn't even groan. His body intrinsically writhed slowly on the ground trying to figure out how to deal with it all, but not really knowing what to do. His leg felt useless, his body uncooperative and it felt like his life was literally being sapped out from him and maybe it was. It could explain the wetness he felt whenever his hands touched a specific part of his torso and why the warmth seemed to be clinging onto his hand like glue. Every attempted movement was a struggle, so he opted to let his body do its own thing and not force the issue.
This must have been how Nate felt over those last few hours, physically helpless and just taking each second as it came. He'd try again in a few minutes if he was still alive. If Madelyn or someone else didn't decide to finish him off before he could move that is. He had no idea what was happening around him and he didn't have the convenience to even think or care about any of that at the moment. If he did have the capacity to think clearly, he would have hoped that Mason and Alexis were safe, but he wasn't lucid. Everything was merely a blur.
For now, Shawn allowed the world to spin in a multitude of colors above him. The whole thing was like a crazy acid trip, more kick-awesome than any other he'd ever experienced before. The psychedelic swirls of neon would have made him smile, if he had the life force or energy to do so. Instead he closed his eyes and went immobile for a few seconds. It was like: whoa.
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Courtography
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Her vision kept blurring. It was like that short moment of vision before she finally fell asleep. Except not quite, because that went away and she could dream, while now she couldn't escape the nightmare. At least not fully, she could feel the wound, but it's not like it even mattered anymore.
She didn't hear anymore gunshots, but that didn't mean it stopped. Did the sense of hearing go away in someone's last few minutes? She couldn't say she knew, and she'd never find out. It was sad and cold she thought. It was like someone had turned on the powered down hotel's air conditioner. She thought she'd normally shiver, but it turned out that she didn't. Was that how broken she was now, that she couldn't even shiver anymore?
It felt like that for a few more moments before she felt the hands on her shoulders. The face came into slight focus. It was Mason. He was still there, was he the only one who cared about her anymore? She thought it was true. He had to care. That's why he was there. In her delirious mind she had the crazy thought of wondering if he loved her. She'd wondered things in the past back at school, wondering if a boy liked her if he smiled at her in class. Those had never come to anything, and this wouldn't either.
She heard his voice keep going in the distance. It sounded unintelligible now, like an audio file that had gotten corrupted with less static. She just watched his face, the way his mouth moved, the obvious pain in his face. At least for a bit, her vision went from slightly blurred to dark. The blurred sound kept coming in and even soon that faded.
Eventually all she could feel were the arms, carrying her from one world into the next.
GRN 3: ALLWELL, ALEXIS: DECEASED
She didn't hear anymore gunshots, but that didn't mean it stopped. Did the sense of hearing go away in someone's last few minutes? She couldn't say she knew, and she'd never find out. It was sad and cold she thought. It was like someone had turned on the powered down hotel's air conditioner. She thought she'd normally shiver, but it turned out that she didn't. Was that how broken she was now, that she couldn't even shiver anymore?
It felt like that for a few more moments before she felt the hands on her shoulders. The face came into slight focus. It was Mason. He was still there, was he the only one who cared about her anymore? She thought it was true. He had to care. That's why he was there. In her delirious mind she had the crazy thought of wondering if he loved her. She'd wondered things in the past back at school, wondering if a boy liked her if he smiled at her in class. Those had never come to anything, and this wouldn't either.
She heard his voice keep going in the distance. It sounded unintelligible now, like an audio file that had gotten corrupted with less static. She just watched his face, the way his mouth moved, the obvious pain in his face. At least for a bit, her vision went from slightly blurred to dark. The blurred sound kept coming in and even soon that faded.
Eventually all she could feel were the arms, carrying her from one world into the next.
GRN 3: ALLWELL, ALEXIS: DECEASED
She died.
Right there, bleeding out on the ground. She died. No words, no response.
Mason sat back on his haunches, his hand going up to his mouth, rubbing it, as if he had some blood there he was trying to remove. He stared at Lexi, like he was trying to coax the dead girl into revealing that it was all a joke and she was actually there to present him with a prize, like a brand new car or something. Wouldn't that be great, if this was all for ratings and he'd really just won a Lexus(or a Lamborghini. He was always partial to Italian engineering)?
But she wasn't moving, she wasn't breathing. Those eyes were as still as if they were glass. Mason gave a shuddering chuckle that choked off partially into a sob somewhere in his throat. He pushed himself up on legs that seemed to want to buckle over his own weight. He remembered now that Shawn was still around. Shawn had probably fired the shot that helped him.
It said something about how the show had changed him when he first went to his fallen Beretta and loaded it instead of looking for the other boy. On the way back to Shawn's location, he idly gave Madelyn a sharp boot in her chest. He felt a rib crack from the force, and he could feel himself smiling grimly.
When he found Shawn, he was almost as bloody as Lexi was, but he was at least still alive. He just seemed to be dancing around the edge of life. Mason poked Shawn with his foot, hoping he could focus.
"Hey. It's, uh. It's over, I think."
Right there, bleeding out on the ground. She died. No words, no response.
Mason sat back on his haunches, his hand going up to his mouth, rubbing it, as if he had some blood there he was trying to remove. He stared at Lexi, like he was trying to coax the dead girl into revealing that it was all a joke and she was actually there to present him with a prize, like a brand new car or something. Wouldn't that be great, if this was all for ratings and he'd really just won a Lexus(or a Lamborghini. He was always partial to Italian engineering)?
But she wasn't moving, she wasn't breathing. Those eyes were as still as if they were glass. Mason gave a shuddering chuckle that choked off partially into a sob somewhere in his throat. He pushed himself up on legs that seemed to want to buckle over his own weight. He remembered now that Shawn was still around. Shawn had probably fired the shot that helped him.
It said something about how the show had changed him when he first went to his fallen Beretta and loaded it instead of looking for the other boy. On the way back to Shawn's location, he idly gave Madelyn a sharp boot in her chest. He felt a rib crack from the force, and he could feel himself smiling grimly.
When he found Shawn, he was almost as bloody as Lexi was, but he was at least still alive. He just seemed to be dancing around the edge of life. Mason poked Shawn with his foot, hoping he could focus.
"Hey. It's, uh. It's over, I think."
Shawn trembled slightly in reaction to the poke of a shoe against his body. The feeling seemed to travel through him, making Shawn quiver and then whimper out a small groan or cry. He heard something being spoken, a male voice, but couldn't comprehend it clearly with the flow of exhaustion and numbness from the whole ordeal still consuming his state of mind.
The rainbow of swirls spun from the psychedelic colors into flashes of pure white when Shawn's eyes instinctively reacted, by slowly raising open in momentary flutters of movement to see who it was that was speaking to him. The light in the room felt sensitive to him, as his vision alternated between the white and colors swirling in and out of each other to form shaded silhouettes of what looked like a human form.
A quiet "huh," was all he could muster in response at first.
His voice felt strained despite the fact that he was pretty sure he hadn't been injured in any areas that would affect his speaking, but maybe it was the overall weakness in him that caused it, who knew? Shawn looked up with furrowed eyebrows and half open eyelids at the face of the boy, who Shawn slowly started to recognize.
"Mason," Shawn said examining the other boy and noting the pistol that flew at his forehead earlier in his hand. He paused to close his eyes some more in order to clear his mind and think of what to say next. He was surprised at himself for still managing the ability for some humor considering circumstances.
"Dude, watch where you throw stuff," Shawn replied with a stifled chuckle which ceased quickly, when he felt the sting of pain start to flare from the wound in his midsection when he did. While in this pathetic state, Shawn knew that Mason was the one with the power resting in his hands now. Shawn continued to lay there, brows still furrowed and eyes half open, resting, waiting to see what Mason would do now. It was crap being shot up and wounded like this, not to mention the headache.
Still back first on the mosaic floor, even cut and weeping like a rubber tree, Shawn felt something continuously bugging him about this picture. In fact it felt like someone's missing.
"Alexis. Where is she?"
The rainbow of swirls spun from the psychedelic colors into flashes of pure white when Shawn's eyes instinctively reacted, by slowly raising open in momentary flutters of movement to see who it was that was speaking to him. The light in the room felt sensitive to him, as his vision alternated between the white and colors swirling in and out of each other to form shaded silhouettes of what looked like a human form.
A quiet "huh," was all he could muster in response at first.
His voice felt strained despite the fact that he was pretty sure he hadn't been injured in any areas that would affect his speaking, but maybe it was the overall weakness in him that caused it, who knew? Shawn looked up with furrowed eyebrows and half open eyelids at the face of the boy, who Shawn slowly started to recognize.
"Mason," Shawn said examining the other boy and noting the pistol that flew at his forehead earlier in his hand. He paused to close his eyes some more in order to clear his mind and think of what to say next. He was surprised at himself for still managing the ability for some humor considering circumstances.
"Dude, watch where you throw stuff," Shawn replied with a stifled chuckle which ceased quickly, when he felt the sting of pain start to flare from the wound in his midsection when he did. While in this pathetic state, Shawn knew that Mason was the one with the power resting in his hands now. Shawn continued to lay there, brows still furrowed and eyes half open, resting, waiting to see what Mason would do now. It was crap being shot up and wounded like this, not to mention the headache.
Still back first on the mosaic floor, even cut and weeping like a rubber tree, Shawn felt something continuously bugging him about this picture. In fact it felt like someone's missing.
"Alexis. Where is she?"
Mason shook his head, smiling bitterly at Shawn's joke.
"My fault, man."
Then Alexis's name came up. Mason kept his gaze at his feet. There was a spot of blood on his left sneaker, and he focused on it. Wondered whose it was.
He jerked his head in Alexis's direction, tongue working in the inside of his cheek as he held an uncomfortable silence. Finally he managed to say, "Didn't make it."
The silence was deafening, after they had spent the last ten minutes or so bathed in the sounds of gunfire and anguish.
"My fault, man."
Then Alexis's name came up. Mason kept his gaze at his feet. There was a spot of blood on his left sneaker, and he focused on it. Wondered whose it was.
He jerked his head in Alexis's direction, tongue working in the inside of his cheek as he held an uncomfortable silence. Finally he managed to say, "Didn't make it."
The silence was deafening, after they had spent the last ten minutes or so bathed in the sounds of gunfire and anguish.
"What."
It was a mere whisper, but Mason's answer was enough to awaken Shawn from his nearly immobile state. His upper body shot up right into a seated position with the words and a reflexive tremor of discomfort began to take its toll. Shawn reacted with a short gasp of pain which he quickly tried to put aside while he wrapped an arm around where it felt strongest, near his abdomen. His eyes wandered to where Mason had nodded over.
Vision of the scene was obscured by the tossed furniture of the area and the only telltale signs were the red foot prints along the tile, trailing behind Mason's sneakers.
Shawn turned his body and leaned to the side, enduring the throbbing sensation, to get a better view beyond a few chairs and a downed tabled. What he could see was a pair of feet, sticking out from behind the furnishing. The legs attached to them were not pale enough to be Nate and too skinny to be Madelyn's.
A silence briefly filled the area, until Shawn decided to break it by trying move. He put his hands against the floor to push himself up, maneuvering his good leg for balance and finding a chair or something to stabilize his weight and lift himself. The effort proved unfulfilled, as once he thought he'd be able to handle the pressure and find his footing, Shawn felt himself slip before he could posture himself completely after a twinge of feeling redeveloped above his knee cap.
Shawn buckled back down onto the floor, front side down, but that didn't stop him. Using his arms and good leg, Shawn decided to drag himself along in a determined crawl toward Alexis.
It was a mere whisper, but Mason's answer was enough to awaken Shawn from his nearly immobile state. His upper body shot up right into a seated position with the words and a reflexive tremor of discomfort began to take its toll. Shawn reacted with a short gasp of pain which he quickly tried to put aside while he wrapped an arm around where it felt strongest, near his abdomen. His eyes wandered to where Mason had nodded over.
Vision of the scene was obscured by the tossed furniture of the area and the only telltale signs were the red foot prints along the tile, trailing behind Mason's sneakers.
Shawn turned his body and leaned to the side, enduring the throbbing sensation, to get a better view beyond a few chairs and a downed tabled. What he could see was a pair of feet, sticking out from behind the furnishing. The legs attached to them were not pale enough to be Nate and too skinny to be Madelyn's.
A silence briefly filled the area, until Shawn decided to break it by trying move. He put his hands against the floor to push himself up, maneuvering his good leg for balance and finding a chair or something to stabilize his weight and lift himself. The effort proved unfulfilled, as once he thought he'd be able to handle the pressure and find his footing, Shawn felt himself slip before he could posture himself completely after a twinge of feeling redeveloped above his knee cap.
Shawn buckled back down onto the floor, front side down, but that didn't stop him. Using his arms and good leg, Shawn decided to drag himself along in a determined crawl toward Alexis.