SOTF Archive/SOTF Classic

((...actually no yeah Michael was totally running away))

Something solid whacked into Yuka's arm mid-lunge, bruising it, stopping her. She stood frozen, knife still raised, as Katrina moved back, grabbed hold onto a stick.

It was only then that she remembered that Katrina had a weapon in her hands at this very moment. How else could she have killed Yuko, after all? There were gunshots, then ringing, muffled static, as Katrina unsheathed the sword, the glint almost blinding Yuka. And for that moment, she considered retreating, pulling back. Yuko and Yuki had told her to live, after all. She couldn't avenge them if she was dead.

And then, through the explosions and the breathing of the sea and the shouts, Katrina spoke blasphemies.

Her knuckles went white against the handle of the knife.

"You... get her FUCKING name. Out of your FUCKING mouth."

She grabbed the knife with both hands, and ran forward, aiming for her ribs, her lungs. Maybe then she would shut up.

Katrina stared at Yuka as the girl screamed more obscenities at her. The girl truly wanted her dead, and didn't see any reason more to talk. The girl lunged at Katrina, trying her hardest to stab her with her knife.

Katrina tried to sidestep her. Even though Katrina had the bigger and presumably sharper weapon, she didn't have the nerve to strike the girl. Just avoid her attacks and maybe get away as quickly as she could. Katrina did at least try to swing above Yuka's head to scare the girl enough away.

However, one attempt at this deadly dance went in Yuka's favor. Katrina tried to step away as Yuka aimed for her side, but Yuka was closer than expected. Katrina felt a sharp, burning sensation from her side and cried out. Yuka had managed to get a small slash right above Katrina's kidney. From a quick glance, it looked like the attack cut the t-shirt a bit. She could start to feel a small trickle of blood down her hip.

As Katrina tried to keep herself from falling, she finally tightened her grip on the sword and swung it towards Yuka. Yuka had drawn first blood, and Katrina couldn't play around. She merely swung in Yuka's direction, hoping it would do enough to disarm the girl.

She felt the sword connect to something. Then she screamed again.

"Oh my god! Yuka!"

The knife became more an extension of her right hand than a knife, following her command as it sailed, dove through air. The two of them twisted and turned, Yuka trying to get a hit over and over again, but she failed each and every time at getting some purchase, finding somewhere to land.

"WHY."

Miss.

"WON'T."

Miss.

"YOU."

Miss.

"DIE."

Miss. Noise, a growl with shape emanated from her throat as they did their little dance, attempts at words, curses morphed and deformed by rage.

And then, finally, she felt more than saw the knife slow down, its path through the air hampered by fabric, flesh. She heard a cry, and looked up, and she smiled. There was a patch of red on Katrina's side. She had done it. The first hit of many, she had hoped.

She had taken one, maybe two seconds to look at the blood, before she looked back up, saw the blade swinging towards her face. She flinched, raised her left hand up to block the blade.

And she did.

Katrina's scream reached her ears before any sensation came to her. And then it came to her, inevitably.

"fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuc-"

On the ground between them, the upper half of her middle three fingers and the tip of her pinky laid, crimson leaking from the ends, soaking into the sand.

Yuka staggered back, pocketed the knife in the hem of her skirt, and grabbed her hand, her right hand immediately slick with blood. It hurt it hurt it hurt, the ends of her nerves were on fire, but she had to stop the bleeding.

She looked back and saw Teresa on the ground, knocked out next to some other girl, Willow if she remembered correctly. And, that was it. They'd lost. Katrina wouldn't be dying today, her sisters wouldn't be getting avenged. But she refused to die here, now. There would never be justice for her sisters, otherwise.

She ran over to her, slung both their bags around her shoulder. In the distance, she'd seen something lying on the ground, something close to a gun. She picked it up, pointed it at the two girls, Willow and Katrina.

"If you- if either of you come close, I WILL shoot your eyes out."

She hated them, both of them. But there would be another day to come for them, if she made it out of here. And so the gun went into the hem of her skirt also, across from the knife. She grabbed Teresa by the collar of her undershirt, and dragged her through the sand, the two of them receding into the trees.

((Yuka Hayashibara and Teresa Rojas continue in Hell and You))

"Aww..." Willow shrugged. "I'mma miss my little needle gun-"

She turned around and found out that she had one less audience member.

Roxie was dead.

Her body was opened for every eyes to see and explore her viseral remains. That's what happened while Willow had her back turned. The bullet that was probably meant for her struck Roxie right in the face.

Willow bit her lips. It looked pretty good if she had to be honest. It was grotesque and repulsive, but it was the closest thing to a fresh corpse. She just wished it wasn't the body of a friend. Well, she wasn't her friends anymore. Whatever that made Roxie herself was now gun and splattered on the beach and now she had left a cadaver behind.

Her soul was somewhere else. Maybe at the island's lost and found items, but probably more like Hell.

Mhm, scratch that. Roxie was like the nicest girl in the group, she probably went to Heaven. She might have been useless, but she was Willow's useless friend and she appreciated the moments they had shared. Especially the one where Roxie had binged on the remaining crackers, it was truly a fond memory of their time spent together.

Her eyes trailed back to Katrina who was clearly not doing okay.

Both physically and mentally, there was this tiny thing inside of her that had snapped. Willow couldn't pinpoint what was exactly the problem. It should have been obvious since the body of their ally was in front of her. It seemed more deep than that though. As if Katrina's morals and intrinsic values had been shaken to its core, well at least what remained of them.

"Kat." Willow's voice was emotionless. Her thoughts were ponctuated by the gunshots of Sierra. In the chaos, she hadn't heard them at all. If she had to blame someone, she'd blame the adrenaline. "Let me patch you up, okay?"

After a bit of searching, Sierra failed to find the shooter. Figuring he must have scared them off, she turned back around and started to run back to the others. Judging by all the yelling, Willow hadn't exactly handled it.

Upon arriving, he looked around the scene and thing were not looking great. Kat was hurt and Roxie was dead.

She grimaced at the scene, but looked around and keeping a vigilant eye on the surroundings.

Katrina's eyes widened to the point of immediate pain and watering upon seeing the damage she did to Yuka. On the red-freckled sand were now parts of four of Yuka's fingers. Katrina had actually sliced them off. Yuka was now retreating and grabbed Teresa, threatening both Katrina and Willow before disappearing into the wilderness. Katrina didn't do anything to antagonize Yuka further. She just stared at the girl, whose eyes burned with hatred, and watched her go.

Katrina's gaze drifted back to the ground. Towards Yuka's fingers laying like slugs on the sand. To Roxie, whose head kept leaking out onto the sand. Katrina remained frozen, her gaze going back and forth between these sights. She almost missed that Willow was talking to her.

"Huh?" Katrina snapped, blinking her watering eyes and looking at her friend.

She then felt the sting on her side.

"Oh, right."

Katrina quietly dropped the bloodstained nodachi onto the sand. She also shrugged her denim jacket off her shoulders and let it fall to the ground as well. The Kennedy Center t-shirt was now starting to get soaked, and she could see it now torn where Yuka slashed her. Katrina gulped and slowly lifted the shirt, gazing at the cut.

It wasn't as bad as the one she gave Yuko, but it still made her feel sick.

"I...I..." she stammered, her gaze fixed on the wound. Her head was starting to feel foggy.

"I think I need to lie down."

Katrina suddenly felt everything go black, and she crumpled onto the sand.

"Aw fuck," Willow laughed, "no dying allowed!"

As she dropped her bag and her new acquired weapon to the ground, Willow noticed she was also injured. Not as much as Yuka's missing fingers or Katrina's missing stomach, but just enough to left a bruise and a nasty gash on her arm. It was rather annoying. She liked not being hurt.

Willow reached Katrina's body, gliding on the sand on her knees. She took a look at the missing fingers and smiled. Willow decided to keep one for the road. Katrina had slumped in this strange position, face laying in the sad but her body facing Willow.

"Ai'ght, you know," Willow flipped Katrina on her back, "you're kinda heavy."

Willow wasn't really speaking to anyone but herself. Sierra was searching for the gunslinger. It didn't really make her feel safe because if Sierra died right now, Willow would have nobody to cover her while she fixed Katrina up. She had this nasty gash on the inside of her stomach. Willow kinda wanted to open her up to see the damage, but she quickly reminded herself that she didn't really have the appropriate supplies for that.

"You got sand all over your cut, ew," Willow shook her aid as she quickly emptied Roxie's first-aid kit, "I mean I do have sand up my cooch but that's another story, anyways..."

Willow had just noticed that her fingers were bloody and dirty. Was there any gloves? Yep. A cute pair of mint-colored gloves was now on her hands. There was also a surgical mask. There wasn't any reason to put it on, but seriously, she kinda wanted the whole look.

"This is the part where I say it's going to sting, but you're not with us anymore so..." She started to douse the injury with the alcohol pads. If she had to be honest, she was kinda having fun. "Oh cool! I can do stitches!"

Katrina's wound was still looking really bad. It still had this heavy flow of blood spouting out of her body. Willow had to forget her plan to give her stitches right now and just apply pressure with a gauze. Katrina was already pale, probably 'cause she was Irish or something, but she had this distinct palor to her face now. Willow shook her head as she applied more pressure to the wound. She was a bit scared of actually hurting her more, but Katrina was passed out. Having a fat bruise was a less bad than having no life.

"No dying allowed."

Sierra every so often turned her attention back to Willow as she worked on Katrina. Kat had fallen unconscious from blood loss. Just what happened while she was off looking for the shooter? Obviously, Willow didn't do the one thing she wanted her to do, but Sierra wasn't about to berate her for it given she was doing something that was already causing her stress.

At least she assumed it was. Maybe Willow remarking that it was cool that she could do stitches was a coping mechanism.

No dying allow.

Already one of them was dead, and Willow was making sure Kat didn't join her. Sierra felt useless, standing here watching while Willow tried to help. Sure, she could act as a guardian, but that felt hollow compared to what Willow was doing. Slowly Sierra reached down and placed a hand on Willow's shoulder, gently squeezing it.

"You've got this." she said in a reassuring but firm tone of voice.

((All GMing approved))

Katrina wasn't unconscious for long. In the time after she fainted from shock and pain, she found herself in a black void. There, she didn't feel or see anything. What she could hear was muffled and hard to make out. But while there, Katrina found herself floating, stoic, merely staring out.

She started to feel something. It felt like she was being lifted further up into the void, going higher and higher.

Let’s drag her behind a rock so we don’t get shot off.


Who said that?

She felt a stinging sensation. It stirred her a bit. Then, she felt something way more searing.

"AH!" Katrina screamed, finding herself back on the beach.

Katrina was looking up at the sky. She could see Willow and Sierra leaning over her. She quickly glanced down and saw her shirt pushed up, exposing her abdomen. Willow
was trying to stitch up her injury.

"Oh god, oh god," Katrina muttered.

Katrina breathed in and out. If Willow and Sierra were trying to comfort her, she couldn't hear it. All she could feel was the pain of field surgery.

She laid her head back and closed her eyes. She covered her eyes with her hand.

In the darkness she created, Katrina could see much more clearly. All she could see was Yuka's face full of hatred. The maddening glares she gave when she tried to stab Katrina. And the shocked face she made when she realized Katrina maimed her.

Katrina started to cry, but remained perfectly still. She knew she had to do so so that Willow could operate, but at that moment, all she wanted to do was thrash around in the sand. Why not? She failed in her goal, and what else could she do right now?

((Katrina Lavell, Willow O'Neal, and Sierra Cooke continued in Although I'm Sad, You Won't See Me Cry))