Down the Road, Not Across the Street
Posted: Fri Feb 18, 2011 12:12 am
{{continued from Fatal Fury, later in the day}}
Maria didn't know when she lost consciousness, but the next thing she remembered was waking up to see the sun start to make it's way back down under the horizon. For a while, she just laid there, watching the sun blankly, before remembering there was something she had to do.
She got up to her feet, staggering a bit. She could hardly even feel the pain anymore. Well, maybe that wasn't the right choice of wording. She could feel it (oh man could she feel it) but it was more like 'oh yeah, this really hurts, doesn't it? Huh...' Limping around the burnt-out bunkhouse, she was amazing to find that it was actually still burning, albeit nowhere near as bad as it was before when that bastard got away. Guess there was still some stuff left that the fire hadn't burnt to cinders.
Walking past the bunkhouse, she noticed her daypack, realizing that she could really use some water right about now. Picking up the bag and zipping it open, she searched around in the bag.
And searched some more.
And then searched one last time.
...
Finally, she just turned the bag upside down and dumped the contents onto the ground. Her eyesight was still pretty bad, and her eyes still stung from the smoke, but she could definitely tell that all her water and rations were gone. Even the last of her pixie stix were missing that son of a bitch stole everything you idiot if you had just set it somewhere other than right out in the open. Well...that was certainly inconvenient. Maybe Cass still had something.
Stepping inside the sawmill, she caught sight of Cass on the floor, lying amongst a sticky puddle of red with a large wound in her back. Maria looked around the room a bit, realizing that Cass' javelin was missing as well he probably stole that too KILL HIM you couldn't do anything to save her you failure. Standing there, she stared at Cass for a while, suddenly feeling rather unsettled, like she should be a lot sadder than she was, but there was this weird disconnect, like she was walking around in somebody else's body, witnessing things they would find horrifying, hearing their thoughts in the back of her mind, but more like just hearing a television going in the next room.
Oh yeah, there was something she was supposed to be doing, wasn't there?
Maria limped over to Cass, reaching down and peeling her off the floor, the front of her body stained with red. It took some doing, but she managed to get her up beside her, arm over her shoulder as she dragged her out of the building, her pace rather slow going as she made her way to one of the other, still-intact bunkhouses. She walked down the row, looking at all the beds. They were all identical, but Maria still felt like only one of them would do.
Eventually, she found the right one.
Reaching down and pulling the blanket back, she carefully laid Cass down on the bed, repositioning her just right before pulling the blanket over her. Returning to the Sawmill for Cass' bag, she came back, setting the pack beside her. Even with Cass' pained expression, Maria still had the feeling that she was finally at peace. No more having to live day to day wondering if or when you were going to die, or when your friends were going to die in front of you. No more psychos with guns, no more old, stale bread, no more voices on the intercom, slowly breaking you down as it turns everyone into a name and a stupid joke.
So lucky
Maria was taken by surprise by that thought. She didn't know why, but the seemingly innocuous thought seemed a lot darker. Was she...jealous of Cass?
But then again, why wouldn't she be? Cass was finally free of all this, but Maria was still here. Still forced to suffer from day to day. More psychos, more pain, more trauma and inner demons.
But did it have to be that way?
Yeah...she didn't have to put up with this anymore. There was still a way out. Why didn't she think of this before?
Maybe she could see Duncan and Cass again?
Stepping outside, she limped around until she found a hefty rock. Picking it up with her good arm, she smashed the rock against the window of the bunkhouse, breaking it before reaching in and pulling a good-sized shard of glass from the frame. Then she sat down, leaning against the wall as she brought the piece in closer and stared at it, seeing a bruised and battered face staring back, covered in red, and eyes with any trace of soul drained out of them. The eyes of an empty and broken human being.
Do it.
Just one swift movement. It'll hurt a bit, but after that it'll all be fine.
Do it.
Just one swift movement...
Do it.
She tilted her head back and brought the shard of glass up to her neck, just above her collar. It felt cold against her skin, and the tip was especially sharp, already starting to hurt a bit.
Just one swift movement.
She hesitated for a brief moment, though she wasn't really sure why. Maybe some kind of self-preservation thingy, trying to convince her one last time not to go through with it.
Do it.
How annoying.
She pressed the shard of glass in further and it bit into her neck, a small trickle of red dripping down. She hesitated again, trying to move her hand but finding it frozen in place. She started to tremble, her eyes leaking tears. Her grip on the shard of glass tightened, feeling as it cut into her hand as well.
She stayed there for a few moments, trying to calm down. Trying to steady her hand.
Just one swift movement...
Maria didn't know when she lost consciousness, but the next thing she remembered was waking up to see the sun start to make it's way back down under the horizon. For a while, she just laid there, watching the sun blankly, before remembering there was something she had to do.
She got up to her feet, staggering a bit. She could hardly even feel the pain anymore. Well, maybe that wasn't the right choice of wording. She could feel it (oh man could she feel it) but it was more like 'oh yeah, this really hurts, doesn't it? Huh...' Limping around the burnt-out bunkhouse, she was amazing to find that it was actually still burning, albeit nowhere near as bad as it was before when that bastard got away. Guess there was still some stuff left that the fire hadn't burnt to cinders.
Walking past the bunkhouse, she noticed her daypack, realizing that she could really use some water right about now. Picking up the bag and zipping it open, she searched around in the bag.
And searched some more.
And then searched one last time.
...
Finally, she just turned the bag upside down and dumped the contents onto the ground. Her eyesight was still pretty bad, and her eyes still stung from the smoke, but she could definitely tell that all her water and rations were gone. Even the last of her pixie stix were missing that son of a bitch stole everything you idiot if you had just set it somewhere other than right out in the open. Well...that was certainly inconvenient. Maybe Cass still had something.
Stepping inside the sawmill, she caught sight of Cass on the floor, lying amongst a sticky puddle of red with a large wound in her back. Maria looked around the room a bit, realizing that Cass' javelin was missing as well he probably stole that too KILL HIM you couldn't do anything to save her you failure. Standing there, she stared at Cass for a while, suddenly feeling rather unsettled, like she should be a lot sadder than she was, but there was this weird disconnect, like she was walking around in somebody else's body, witnessing things they would find horrifying, hearing their thoughts in the back of her mind, but more like just hearing a television going in the next room.
Oh yeah, there was something she was supposed to be doing, wasn't there?
Maria limped over to Cass, reaching down and peeling her off the floor, the front of her body stained with red. It took some doing, but she managed to get her up beside her, arm over her shoulder as she dragged her out of the building, her pace rather slow going as she made her way to one of the other, still-intact bunkhouses. She walked down the row, looking at all the beds. They were all identical, but Maria still felt like only one of them would do.
Eventually, she found the right one.
Reaching down and pulling the blanket back, she carefully laid Cass down on the bed, repositioning her just right before pulling the blanket over her. Returning to the Sawmill for Cass' bag, she came back, setting the pack beside her. Even with Cass' pained expression, Maria still had the feeling that she was finally at peace. No more having to live day to day wondering if or when you were going to die, or when your friends were going to die in front of you. No more psychos with guns, no more old, stale bread, no more voices on the intercom, slowly breaking you down as it turns everyone into a name and a stupid joke.
So lucky
Maria was taken by surprise by that thought. She didn't know why, but the seemingly innocuous thought seemed a lot darker. Was she...jealous of Cass?
But then again, why wouldn't she be? Cass was finally free of all this, but Maria was still here. Still forced to suffer from day to day. More psychos, more pain, more trauma and inner demons.
But did it have to be that way?
Yeah...she didn't have to put up with this anymore. There was still a way out. Why didn't she think of this before?
Maybe she could see Duncan and Cass again?
Stepping outside, she limped around until she found a hefty rock. Picking it up with her good arm, she smashed the rock against the window of the bunkhouse, breaking it before reaching in and pulling a good-sized shard of glass from the frame. Then she sat down, leaning against the wall as she brought the piece in closer and stared at it, seeing a bruised and battered face staring back, covered in red, and eyes with any trace of soul drained out of them. The eyes of an empty and broken human being.
Do it.
Just one swift movement. It'll hurt a bit, but after that it'll all be fine.
Do it.
Just one swift movement...
Do it.
She tilted her head back and brought the shard of glass up to her neck, just above her collar. It felt cold against her skin, and the tip was especially sharp, already starting to hurt a bit.
Just one swift movement.
She hesitated for a brief moment, though she wasn't really sure why. Maybe some kind of self-preservation thingy, trying to convince her one last time not to go through with it.
Do it.
How annoying.
She pressed the shard of glass in further and it bit into her neck, a small trickle of red dripping down. She hesitated again, trying to move her hand but finding it frozen in place. She started to tremble, her eyes leaking tears. Her grip on the shard of glass tightened, feeling as it cut into her hand as well.
She stayed there for a few moments, trying to calm down. Trying to steady her hand.
Just one swift movement...