A Few More Bullets
Posted: Thu Jan 17, 2019 7:54 am
((Garrett Wilde Continued From Where on the island is Carmen San Diego?))
"You know, children, I make the announcements for your own good, so it would be in your best interests to listen, and listen intently. I'll be giving you a list of all of your fallen friends. I might even tell you who killed them, if I'm in the mood. Then you can enact exact retribution upon their murderer and all that good stuff. Makes for good ratings, you know. Not only will I give you a tally of the dead, but I'll also tell you which areas are becoming restricted. Take heed of that, children, because once an area becomes restricted, you're sealing your own fate by lingering within."~Mr. Danya's Survival Guide, Morning Announcements.
He'd read that section as he was walking yesterday. He'd kept to himself for the most part, partly out of shame for abandoning the others. It had seemed necessary at the time, but the more he wandered aimlessly the more he realized how foolish he'd been. He had no idea what he was doing. He could take guesses at people who were dangerous, but he had no idea where they were, or what he'd do once he found them. Reading about the announcements led him to believe that hiding out would be the best course of action, at least until they could give him a lead or two. He didn't expect that there would be much to them the first day, but maybe someone would panic. He passed the silent hours with his pen and the guide, focusing on getting into mindset of their captors. It was like a puzzle to him. He had to weed out the filler to find the subtle and overt devices laced through the text to evoke a variety of emotions. Knowing exactly what they would try to inspire would allow him a level of control. In a way, the exercise was almost soothing.
Then eight people had died, and the game became very different.
There was one suicide and one accident. He didn't know what to make of the other six deaths. His gut instinct was to take them as cold-blooded murder, but he knew that was a mistake. It was part of their design. They wanted him to become more attached to the ideals of survival, and the ideals of revenge. They not only wanted it, they expected it. They had no reason not to. It was the natural human response. So when he found the blood-encrusted body lying among the flowers on the cliff, it would have been natural to expect him to run. Or vomit. Or shout. Or something, anything to express that he realized a human being had her life and body violently separated here.
She wasn't human to him anymore, though. She was just evidence.
He hadn't planned on finding her. The cliff had just seemed like a good place to stop and meditate. Here she was though, and that meant it was time to go to work. He circled the body slowly, dictating the details to himself out-loud. "Female. Multiple wounds. No signs of struggle. No weapon present. By deduction, victim is Gabriella Parker. Killer is Theo Fletcher."
He paused, quickly scrawling Theo's name on the back of his guide, along with a brief tag. Murderer.
He noticed Gabriella's bag lying next to her body. Upon inspection, it was still full of everything except for her weapon. "Killer did not loot. Most likely he panicked and fled the scene." Speaking out loud helped him distance himself from his thoughts. That's what he needed right now. Before, he'd been afraid to dehumanize people. Now he realized that the Island would already do it for him. He just had to embrace it.
He quietly gathered Gabriella's rations and water into his bag. They help the living more than the dead, after all. Then he looked back at her body as it was baking in the sun. He wanted to apologize for not saving her. He wanted to move her somewhere where she could be buried with dignity. He didn't, though. Instead he walked into the nearby flower stand, and began to meditate upon the prayer of Arthur Dent.
"Protect me from knowing what I don't need to know. Protect me from even knowing that there are things to know that I don't know. Protect me from knowing that I decided not to know about the things that I decided not to know about, and Lord, Lord, Lord, protect me from the consequences of the above prayer. Amen..."
It had been his litany through the first day. In optimistic ignorance he'd let a killer walk free, and he'd given up looking for another. There'd been no Lord to protect him from the reality of the announcements, though. They'd taught him a great deal in a very short amount of time. The inexorable truth of the situation was that people were going to die here. Accepting that would be difficult, but it had to be done.
He wouldn't let another murderer walk away from him.
((Garrett Wilde Continued In That's Crate!))
"You know, children, I make the announcements for your own good, so it would be in your best interests to listen, and listen intently. I'll be giving you a list of all of your fallen friends. I might even tell you who killed them, if I'm in the mood. Then you can enact exact retribution upon their murderer and all that good stuff. Makes for good ratings, you know. Not only will I give you a tally of the dead, but I'll also tell you which areas are becoming restricted. Take heed of that, children, because once an area becomes restricted, you're sealing your own fate by lingering within."~Mr. Danya's Survival Guide, Morning Announcements.
He'd read that section as he was walking yesterday. He'd kept to himself for the most part, partly out of shame for abandoning the others. It had seemed necessary at the time, but the more he wandered aimlessly the more he realized how foolish he'd been. He had no idea what he was doing. He could take guesses at people who were dangerous, but he had no idea where they were, or what he'd do once he found them. Reading about the announcements led him to believe that hiding out would be the best course of action, at least until they could give him a lead or two. He didn't expect that there would be much to them the first day, but maybe someone would panic. He passed the silent hours with his pen and the guide, focusing on getting into mindset of their captors. It was like a puzzle to him. He had to weed out the filler to find the subtle and overt devices laced through the text to evoke a variety of emotions. Knowing exactly what they would try to inspire would allow him a level of control. In a way, the exercise was almost soothing.
Then eight people had died, and the game became very different.
There was one suicide and one accident. He didn't know what to make of the other six deaths. His gut instinct was to take them as cold-blooded murder, but he knew that was a mistake. It was part of their design. They wanted him to become more attached to the ideals of survival, and the ideals of revenge. They not only wanted it, they expected it. They had no reason not to. It was the natural human response. So when he found the blood-encrusted body lying among the flowers on the cliff, it would have been natural to expect him to run. Or vomit. Or shout. Or something, anything to express that he realized a human being had her life and body violently separated here.
She wasn't human to him anymore, though. She was just evidence.
He hadn't planned on finding her. The cliff had just seemed like a good place to stop and meditate. Here she was though, and that meant it was time to go to work. He circled the body slowly, dictating the details to himself out-loud. "Female. Multiple wounds. No signs of struggle. No weapon present. By deduction, victim is Gabriella Parker. Killer is Theo Fletcher."
He paused, quickly scrawling Theo's name on the back of his guide, along with a brief tag. Murderer.
He noticed Gabriella's bag lying next to her body. Upon inspection, it was still full of everything except for her weapon. "Killer did not loot. Most likely he panicked and fled the scene." Speaking out loud helped him distance himself from his thoughts. That's what he needed right now. Before, he'd been afraid to dehumanize people. Now he realized that the Island would already do it for him. He just had to embrace it.
He quietly gathered Gabriella's rations and water into his bag. They help the living more than the dead, after all. Then he looked back at her body as it was baking in the sun. He wanted to apologize for not saving her. He wanted to move her somewhere where she could be buried with dignity. He didn't, though. Instead he walked into the nearby flower stand, and began to meditate upon the prayer of Arthur Dent.
"Protect me from knowing what I don't need to know. Protect me from even knowing that there are things to know that I don't know. Protect me from knowing that I decided not to know about the things that I decided not to know about, and Lord, Lord, Lord, protect me from the consequences of the above prayer. Amen..."
It had been his litany through the first day. In optimistic ignorance he'd let a killer walk free, and he'd given up looking for another. There'd been no Lord to protect him from the reality of the announcements, though. They'd taught him a great deal in a very short amount of time. The inexorable truth of the situation was that people were going to die here. Accepting that would be difficult, but it had to be done.
He wouldn't let another murderer walk away from him.
((Garrett Wilde Continued In That's Crate!))