Lori stared at him for a moment. In an instant, a sparking of anger ignited in her mind and spread throughout her in a consuming blaze.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" she said, brows furrowed.
Lori walked closer to the boy. The spark predictably hijacked her, and she forgot that she was trying to be on good behavior.
"You think I'm having fun here? You think I'm just some kind of miserable sad sack that doesn't have any real friends so I want people to get torn down so that I look better my comparison? Maybe YOU like suffering you MAGA-hat-wearing, steroid, fridge-shaped motherfucker."
She punctuated the statement by moving to shove Bret backwards with both hands.
Swerve
B046 Death Thread
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Ruggahissy
- Posts: 1593
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
Well, it looked like he had caused offense. That hadn't been his intention. He had just been offering a thought but clearly it wasn't wanted. He had just thought it a casual aside, but it appeared he had been mistaken.
Lori spat some bile at him and he had a strong temptation to just respond with a deadpan 'Yes' but thought better of it.
"Actually that sounds more like my brot-" As he spoke Lori raised her arms and made an attempt to shove him. Without thinking too much about it Bret grabbed her wrists to stop her.
"Hey, calm down. I didn't mean anything by it."
Lori spat some bile at him and he had a strong temptation to just respond with a deadpan 'Yes' but thought better of it.
"Actually that sounds more like my brot-" As he spoke Lori raised her arms and made an attempt to shove him. Without thinking too much about it Bret grabbed her wrists to stop her.
"Hey, calm down. I didn't mean anything by it."
As Bret's hands closed around Lori's wrists, a single set of eyes peered at the scene from the bushes off the path towards the lookout. A single set of teeth clenched down, a single inhale from a battered nose allowed the bitter, heavy air into the lungs of the observer. This was not the first time that he had stood by and watched, but it was the first time that his heart was filled with this kind of fire. This was not the first time that Claudeson Bademosi had stood by and watched one of the Carter brothers physically assault someone, but before, that someone had been Tyrell Lahti; barely a sterling example of humankind. Lori Martin may have been the initial aggressor, but Claudeson had seen the power of the Carter brothers firsthand.
Before, Tyrell was able to defend himself; once upon a time he had seen the steel glint of the knife and had chosen to intervene, sparing all three parties from an ignominious end to their evening. Bret and Wyatt had sent their message, Tyrell had stayed out of jail, and he had collected social capital that could have come in handy at a later date. Things could have gone rather differently that night. Back in Chattanooga, the Carters were a menace. Bullies, the both of them, with Bret more of a lap-dog for his floozy girlfriend and Wyatt the out-of-control, barely trained attack dog. They ran around the school with barely a regard for anyone else; Wyatt besmirching sexual orientation, race, faith, and whatever else he could. Much like Tyrell, they were the kinds of people that possessed no goodness whatsoever, that did not deserve salvation or respite from this torture that the terrorists had seen fit to inflict upon them.
Tyrell would walk the lands, knowing full well that he could have been spared any of his pain or suffering, well aware that had Claudeson not intervened on that fateful night, he would likely have survived. One or both of the Carters would have been grievously wounded, and likely spared the trip as well. Yet, here they were — alive and well, thanks to Claudeson himself.
Alive and well, and threatening the one person whose honesty he had vowed to protect. The one person who was totally honest with themselves about who they were, and what they weren't. He could still remember how his mouth had dropped in shock when Bret had stood over Tyrell back in Tennessee, snarling down at him something about talking to Ivy with respect. In hindsight, ridiculous; particularly considering what the rumblings had said regarding prom.
Bret Carter was dangerous; perhaps even more so than Wyatt, who was nowhere to be seen — a rarity. Wyatt was uncontrollable, a being of pure id and rage. The only one who could control him was standing before them, his hand grasping Lori's wrists harder than necessary.
He heard her cry out, so he stepped forward.
"Bret," he levelled Min-jae directly at the larger man, "what are you thinking?" The disdain was evident in his voice.
"This kind of violence is no way for reasonable men to act."
A small, sinister smile crept upon his face as he stared Bret down, the moonlight vaguely allowing him to see the flicker of recognition that passed over his face.
There were no reasonable men here.
"Let her go," the inference clear. Wyatt was nowhere to be seen, but Claudeson knew that wherever one Carter lurked, the stench of the other was close at hand. When he had intervened before, he had done so in the hope of preventing further injury. He had diffused the situation with nothing more than a lie, a fallacy of faith and a cellular phone.
Today, he had a more powerful protector watching over him; a feeling which empowered him. His heart rate began to race.
"Now."
Before, Tyrell was able to defend himself; once upon a time he had seen the steel glint of the knife and had chosen to intervene, sparing all three parties from an ignominious end to their evening. Bret and Wyatt had sent their message, Tyrell had stayed out of jail, and he had collected social capital that could have come in handy at a later date. Things could have gone rather differently that night. Back in Chattanooga, the Carters were a menace. Bullies, the both of them, with Bret more of a lap-dog for his floozy girlfriend and Wyatt the out-of-control, barely trained attack dog. They ran around the school with barely a regard for anyone else; Wyatt besmirching sexual orientation, race, faith, and whatever else he could. Much like Tyrell, they were the kinds of people that possessed no goodness whatsoever, that did not deserve salvation or respite from this torture that the terrorists had seen fit to inflict upon them.
Tyrell would walk the lands, knowing full well that he could have been spared any of his pain or suffering, well aware that had Claudeson not intervened on that fateful night, he would likely have survived. One or both of the Carters would have been grievously wounded, and likely spared the trip as well. Yet, here they were — alive and well, thanks to Claudeson himself.
Alive and well, and threatening the one person whose honesty he had vowed to protect. The one person who was totally honest with themselves about who they were, and what they weren't. He could still remember how his mouth had dropped in shock when Bret had stood over Tyrell back in Tennessee, snarling down at him something about talking to Ivy with respect. In hindsight, ridiculous; particularly considering what the rumblings had said regarding prom.
Bret Carter was dangerous; perhaps even more so than Wyatt, who was nowhere to be seen — a rarity. Wyatt was uncontrollable, a being of pure id and rage. The only one who could control him was standing before them, his hand grasping Lori's wrists harder than necessary.
He heard her cry out, so he stepped forward.
"Bret," he levelled Min-jae directly at the larger man, "what are you thinking?" The disdain was evident in his voice.
"This kind of violence is no way for reasonable men to act."
A small, sinister smile crept upon his face as he stared Bret down, the moonlight vaguely allowing him to see the flicker of recognition that passed over his face.
There were no reasonable men here.
"Let her go," the inference clear. Wyatt was nowhere to be seen, but Claudeson knew that wherever one Carter lurked, the stench of the other was close at hand. When he had intervened before, he had done so in the hope of preventing further injury. He had diffused the situation with nothing more than a lie, a fallacy of faith and a cellular phone.
Today, he had a more powerful protector watching over him; a feeling which empowered him. His heart rate began to race.
"Now."
And so everything had gone to shit. Seeing Claudeson wasn't something Bret had wanted to do. He had no interest in interacting with the boy. But he had no reason to want to have a confrontation with him either. He had dropped the rifle to the ground when he had grabbed Lori's wrists which meant he was down his only real line of defense. So, for lack of any better options, he deferred to Claude's wishes and released Lori's wrists. He didn't move to retrieve his rifle. Having a crossbow being pointed at him was an interesting feeling, especially when the person holding it was as sanctimonious as Claude was.
Bret was certain he was about to receive a lecture about his actions or some other such shit. It didn't sound like the best way to spend his evening. He was annoyed at himself however for letting the situation occur in the first place. If he had just stayed on watch or decided not to approach Lori he would have been fine. It was stupidity that had landed him in his position. Plain and simple.
"Alright," He said, raising his arms in a placating gesture. "I'll just be on my way and we can all continue with our evenings."
Bret was certain he was about to receive a lecture about his actions or some other such shit. It didn't sound like the best way to spend his evening. He was annoyed at himself however for letting the situation occur in the first place. If he had just stayed on watch or decided not to approach Lori he would have been fine. It was stupidity that had landed him in his position. Plain and simple.
"Alright," He said, raising his arms in a placating gesture. "I'll just be on my way and we can all continue with our evenings."
"Continue with our evenings, oh yes of course," Claudeson echoed Bret's words with an almost mocking tone. He spoke as though he were in complete control of the situation, as though he were dictating the terms of the engagement. He had observed similarly back in Chattanooga, where Bret had been the one to talk Wyatt down, where Bret had been the one who erred on the side of caution, who knew when to walk away.
Lori was free of Bret's grasp and was now a step away from the large teen. He now saw the rifle on the ground, looked at it; back up to Bret.
"Where is your brother?"
The crossbow did not falter; Min-jae held strong and sturdy in Claudeson's hands. It demanded a response.
Lori was free of Bret's grasp and was now a step away from the large teen. He now saw the rifle on the ground, looked at it; back up to Bret.
"Where is your brother?"
The crossbow did not falter; Min-jae held strong and sturdy in Claudeson's hands. It demanded a response.
Oh, so it was going to be like that. Bret let out a sigh.
"He's at our camp," He said, keeping his gaze focused on Claude and his hands still held up, palms facing out.
"I hope you understand that I'm not going to tell you where that is."
"He's at our camp," He said, keeping his gaze focused on Claude and his hands still held up, palms facing out.
"I hope you understand that I'm not going to tell you where that is."
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Ruggahissy
- Posts: 1593
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
Lori was startled when Bret took hold of her wrists. Suddenly the consequences of what she had done came upon her like crashing a car into a wall. But then, luckily, miraculously, Claudeson came up and demanded that Bret let her go.
"Claudeson!"
She's never been so happy to see someone from school. For once, someone had her back when there was a situation that someone else started. She took a step back, not sure what Claudeson was getting at with his line of questioning.
"Claudeson!"
She's never been so happy to see someone from school. For once, someone had her back when there was a situation that someone else started. She took a step back, not sure what Claudeson was getting at with his line of questioning.
"Of course," Claudeson's lips moved into a grim smile. "There is no need. I have no use for him."
That was untrue. It was perfect, actually; everything made sense to him. Bret Carter was a dangerous man, one who would undoubtedly walk back to his camp, collect his brother, and come after them. If there was one thing that everyone at George Hunter High School knew, it was that if you cross one Carter, you crossed them both. Tyrell had learned that the hard way in the woods, and anyone who ran afoul of their inner circle usually ended up with bruises or a newfound fear of football players. In a situation like Survival of the Fittest, that truth was amplified and even more dangerous.
They were unbreakable allies, an eternal threat to anyone and everyone that came upon them.
In Claudeson's eyes, they did not deserve the salvation that would eventually be afforded to their classmates; they deserved to suffer, to feel every bit of agony that the terrorists could dole out. Knowing that the two had been together made the decision simpler, not to mention that Bret still stood within arm's reach of Lori. She had stepped back, but Bret was a large individual, he could just as easily take her as a shield if he so desired. That would be a terrible outcome. He could not allow that. Bret was the brains of the operation, Wyatt was the muscle, and together, they were a force.
But apart?
Claudeson smiled again, this time at his companion. He knew what he must do. For him, for Lori; for all of them. He looked back at his bearded classmate.
"I have no use for him; but you will suffice. I trust you will enjoy your rest, however unearned it may be. Farewell, Bret."
As he uttered the boy's name, he simultaneously depressed the trigger on the crossbow, Min-jae's deadly projectile launching itself on a collision course with the neck of Bret Carter.
That was untrue. It was perfect, actually; everything made sense to him. Bret Carter was a dangerous man, one who would undoubtedly walk back to his camp, collect his brother, and come after them. If there was one thing that everyone at George Hunter High School knew, it was that if you cross one Carter, you crossed them both. Tyrell had learned that the hard way in the woods, and anyone who ran afoul of their inner circle usually ended up with bruises or a newfound fear of football players. In a situation like Survival of the Fittest, that truth was amplified and even more dangerous.
They were unbreakable allies, an eternal threat to anyone and everyone that came upon them.
In Claudeson's eyes, they did not deserve the salvation that would eventually be afforded to their classmates; they deserved to suffer, to feel every bit of agony that the terrorists could dole out. Knowing that the two had been together made the decision simpler, not to mention that Bret still stood within arm's reach of Lori. She had stepped back, but Bret was a large individual, he could just as easily take her as a shield if he so desired. That would be a terrible outcome. He could not allow that. Bret was the brains of the operation, Wyatt was the muscle, and together, they were a force.
But apart?
Claudeson smiled again, this time at his companion. He knew what he must do. For him, for Lori; for all of them. He looked back at his bearded classmate.
"I have no use for him; but you will suffice. I trust you will enjoy your rest, however unearned it may be. Farewell, Bret."
As he uttered the boy's name, he simultaneously depressed the trigger on the crossbow, Min-jae's deadly projectile launching itself on a collision course with the neck of Bret Carter.
Yep, it was happening.
Fuck.
The bolt connected with Bret's neck and for a moment he stayed standing, staring straight ahead at Claude. Then slowly his eyes widened and his head turned more towards Lori. His hands, which had remained up moved in an attempt to grasp the end of the projectile Claude had fired at him but they didn't reach. Instead, Bret tipped forward, landing with a thud on the dirt and grass. His eyes stayed open as blood gurgled in his throat, spilling out of both his mouth and the wound caused by the bolt. He coughed and felt the blood fleck his lips. He wanted to say something, to point out Claude's own hypocrisy. Bret had never been incredibly religious, their family still attended church but Bret wouldn't have called himself the most devout. He believed, but not as strongly as he honestly could have. Despite that, in those final few moments, he did find himself thinking about what came next.
He took solace in the fact that Wyatt wouldn't be alone, he had Tirzah with him. When he found out there was a good chance his twin would do something stupid out of anger, Bret hoped his brother would stay safe. That Tirzah would be able to keep him in check to a degree and make sure he didn't make dangerous decisions. It wasn't his job anymore at least. But still, Bret was going to miss that big bald idiot.
He hoped he'd be alright without him.
Fuck.
The bolt connected with Bret's neck and for a moment he stayed standing, staring straight ahead at Claude. Then slowly his eyes widened and his head turned more towards Lori. His hands, which had remained up moved in an attempt to grasp the end of the projectile Claude had fired at him but they didn't reach. Instead, Bret tipped forward, landing with a thud on the dirt and grass. His eyes stayed open as blood gurgled in his throat, spilling out of both his mouth and the wound caused by the bolt. He coughed and felt the blood fleck his lips. He wanted to say something, to point out Claude's own hypocrisy. Bret had never been incredibly religious, their family still attended church but Bret wouldn't have called himself the most devout. He believed, but not as strongly as he honestly could have. Despite that, in those final few moments, he did find himself thinking about what came next.
He took solace in the fact that Wyatt wouldn't be alone, he had Tirzah with him. When he found out there was a good chance his twin would do something stupid out of anger, Bret hoped his brother would stay safe. That Tirzah would be able to keep him in check to a degree and make sure he didn't make dangerous decisions. It wasn't his job anymore at least. But still, Bret was going to miss that big bald idiot.
He hoped he'd be alright without him.
B046 - Bret Carter: Deceased
100 Students Remain
100 Students Remain
My, how the mighty have fallen. Rather, it was surprising how soundlessly such a physical specimen like Bret Carter fell, dying without much of a retort, only a small, sad gurgle. The feeling that washed over him felt oddly like pleasure, with something else buried deep within. Claudeson had no use for that other feeling, nor was he eager to discover what it was. Pleasure would suit him just fine. He had done a service, here. Bret would hurt no one else, would wreak no more havoc upon anyone. Wyatt would undoubtedly rage, but Claudeson was well-armed enough to know that if he spotted the only remaining Carter, it would be smarter to shoot first, and leave the questions aside. In the meantime, Wyatt would carve a path through the island, having been toppled off his high horse forevermore.
Lowering the crossbow, he slung it across his body once more, looking at Lori as he moved towards the fresh corpse on the ground. Nudging it with his toe, there was nothing. The boy had indeed expired. Leaning down, Claudeson got to work salvaging what he could. Bret had been wearing some sort of goggles when he'd died — night vision by the looks of it — which would come in handy for he and Lori. Particularly in travelling during the evenings. There would be no more surprise run-ins with unwelcome classmates. Everything that happened from here on out would be dictated by he and he alone. No greater plan, no fates to guide them. And God?
Pfft.
He dismissed that idea outright; made a point of it. God had been a lie, something his parents had told him to lure him into their own bed of lies. There was no higher power. There was only the power within him. The power within him, and that which lay within Lori. They would be powerful together. He had saved her. Claudeson knew that he would show her the way. Picking the discarded rifle up from the ground, he walked towards Lori, holding it out towards her.
"I promised you, did I not? I told you that I would let nothing happen to you. You are safe with me, Lori. I apologize that you had to see that, but I could not let him hurt you."
Grasping her hand, Claudeson smiled. "We will find the way forward. Together."
Allowing a moment for her to take the weapon, he looked around, most of the area obscured by the darkness of the evening. Staying was no longer a prudent idea, particularly if Wyatt were lurking around somewhere. Once he discovered the body of his brother, Claudeson thought it wise if he were a long way away.
"We must go," he put more simply out loud.
So they went; the owl and the fallen angel continuing their crusade somewhere else, leaving the fallen, formidable body of a classmate in their wake.
((Claudeson Bademosi continued in The Chemicals Between Us))
Lowering the crossbow, he slung it across his body once more, looking at Lori as he moved towards the fresh corpse on the ground. Nudging it with his toe, there was nothing. The boy had indeed expired. Leaning down, Claudeson got to work salvaging what he could. Bret had been wearing some sort of goggles when he'd died — night vision by the looks of it — which would come in handy for he and Lori. Particularly in travelling during the evenings. There would be no more surprise run-ins with unwelcome classmates. Everything that happened from here on out would be dictated by he and he alone. No greater plan, no fates to guide them. And God?
Pfft.
He dismissed that idea outright; made a point of it. God had been a lie, something his parents had told him to lure him into their own bed of lies. There was no higher power. There was only the power within him. The power within him, and that which lay within Lori. They would be powerful together. He had saved her. Claudeson knew that he would show her the way. Picking the discarded rifle up from the ground, he walked towards Lori, holding it out towards her.
"I promised you, did I not? I told you that I would let nothing happen to you. You are safe with me, Lori. I apologize that you had to see that, but I could not let him hurt you."
Grasping her hand, Claudeson smiled. "We will find the way forward. Together."
Allowing a moment for her to take the weapon, he looked around, most of the area obscured by the darkness of the evening. Staying was no longer a prudent idea, particularly if Wyatt were lurking around somewhere. Once he discovered the body of his brother, Claudeson thought it wise if he were a long way away.
"We must go," he put more simply out loud.
So they went; the owl and the fallen angel continuing their crusade somewhere else, leaving the fallen, formidable body of a classmate in their wake.
((Claudeson Bademosi continued in The Chemicals Between Us))
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Ruggahissy
- Posts: 1593
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
Lori covered her mouth quickly to stifle any sound when Bret collapsed to the ground. She'd never seen anyone die in real life before. She looked from the body to Claudeson, wide-eyed. She repeated this back and forth a few times. It was extreme and perhaps he didn't have to go that far, but he still helped her.
Lori tearfully allowed him to take her hand.
"You saved me," she said quietly. He handed her the rifle and quickly tugged her away. She allowed herself to be pulled, glancing briefly back at the corpse one more time. The first time she'd been successful in getting anything since waking up and it was because of Claudeson, who came to her rescue. He must have cared for her. It was strange to think about, but it was something she had to cherish.
"Mmhm. Together."
It didn't matter with whom though.
((Lori Martin continued in The Chemicals Between Us ))
Alone.
The blonde grasped around, but that she was alone.
Tirzah stirred, feeling grass that was cool, but not dewy yet. She propped herself up onto her elbows and squinted, trying to look around into the night. It reminded her of the time she'd fucked a guy outside a house party and when she woke up a little before dawn, she was alone. She'd picked up her heels, brushed the plants off her dress and then got an Uber home. The situation wasn't the same now, but there was a sense of regretful deja vu.
"Wyatt? Bret?" she whispered.
Lori tearfully allowed him to take her hand.
"You saved me," she said quietly. He handed her the rifle and quickly tugged her away. She allowed herself to be pulled, glancing briefly back at the corpse one more time. The first time she'd been successful in getting anything since waking up and it was because of Claudeson, who came to her rescue. He must have cared for her. It was strange to think about, but it was something she had to cherish.
"Mmhm. Together."
It didn't matter with whom though.
((Lori Martin continued in The Chemicals Between Us ))
Alone.
The blonde grasped around, but that she was alone.
Tirzah stirred, feeling grass that was cool, but not dewy yet. She propped herself up onto her elbows and squinted, trying to look around into the night. It reminded her of the time she'd fucked a guy outside a house party and when she woke up a little before dawn, she was alone. She'd picked up her heels, brushed the plants off her dress and then got an Uber home. The situation wasn't the same now, but there was a sense of regretful deja vu.
"Wyatt? Bret?" she whispered.
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MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 1931
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
He swallowed a mouthful of bile when he found him.
Something had been wrong right from the start when Bret hadn't been there to wake them up to take over the shift. If it weren't for some stupid rock sitting just the wrong way that it poked into the back of his ribs when he rocked in his sleep, he might not have awoken at all to a moonless sky. Wyatt spent longer than he should have, just staring at the sky that had only stars and no moon to join them before he realized that it made sense; yesterday had been a new moon, and so the crescent moon set pretty early. But if it was completely gone, then it was probably past midnight.
Bret should have at least been nearby. But back then, it was confusion and some bitterness. Getting on his ass for disappearing in the middle of the night, and now he was doing it himself. Now he didn't have a leg to stand on in that argument, did he? Wyatt lumbered a circle around their camp to try and catch which way he'd gone. The path became wider, spiraling outward before abruptly cutting back in to grab his flashlight and begin the search more vigorously... maybe a bit more frantically.
Bret came into view in a handheld spotlight and the delusions began.
Then the screaming.
When Tirzah found them, Bret's lifeless body had been turned onto its back to put the wound in his neck on full display, the bolt still stuck where it was with a swaddling of dirty chartreuse cloth tightly wound around the base, jammed between his bearded chin and the collar. Wyatt's head bobbed with his breathing, shallow and barely constrained, as he slouched on his knees to be almost directly over him and as close as possible. He refused to look at Tirzah, but something etched into his brow plainly told that he knew of her approach without having to look.
His first vocalization was a wheezing half-cough, the bastardized and malformed version of somebody trying to clear their throat when struggling to catch their breath. Wyatt's flashlight, still turned on, sat beside his dirtied legs and pointed in the rough direction of Bret's body to directly illuminate the elbow and upper arm, leaving the boy's face partially shadowed yet still plainly visible.
"He..."
He ground his teeth so they wouldn't chatter, so his shoulders might stop trembling.
"He was all I h... all I had, you know? He's all I got. Here." Wyatt dug his nails into his bare knees. "My br... my fucking twin brother. Our entire... LITERALLY our entire lives, you know!? We could always rely on each other, l-li-like, to have each other's backs." He worked his jaws again and he felt an acute pressure up by his eyes. He had no idea what it was or why it was happening. "There hasn't been a day I haven't had to deal with..."
With this fucking asshole. The guy I constantly fight with, the one who never agrees with me and disapproves of everything I do. There had not been a single day of rest or peace. They shared everything, in a sense, whether they liked it or not, and so they stepped on each other's toes. They came to blows multiple times that they thought they might tear the house apart until Dad, or worse, Mom, had to pull them apart. And in a strange demented sense, they were also different sides of the same coin. And he loved him. Even that stupid butt-ugly beard that he grew, just so he could look a little different, so people wouldn't confuse them.
Wyatt hadn't prepared for the day that might exist where he'd have to live in a world without Bret in it.
"You fucking idiot... what were you trying to do?" He said it quietly. A moment passed, the wind picked up for a short gust and rustled the few leaves that had time to dry and become unstuck from the ground. Wyatt leaned his body forward and pounded on Bret's chest with the underside of his fist, screaming right in Bret's face: "WHAT WERE YOU DOING!?" He would have loved for nothing more than for Bret to just magically come to life and tell him to stop screaming and stop acting like an idiot. He would have taken a punch, too, because it all would have been worth a sock in the jaw. And when there was nothing as he expected, Wyatt slumped back, defeated.
He sniffed.
"I'm not f-fucking ready, man."
Something had been wrong right from the start when Bret hadn't been there to wake them up to take over the shift. If it weren't for some stupid rock sitting just the wrong way that it poked into the back of his ribs when he rocked in his sleep, he might not have awoken at all to a moonless sky. Wyatt spent longer than he should have, just staring at the sky that had only stars and no moon to join them before he realized that it made sense; yesterday had been a new moon, and so the crescent moon set pretty early. But if it was completely gone, then it was probably past midnight.
Bret should have at least been nearby. But back then, it was confusion and some bitterness. Getting on his ass for disappearing in the middle of the night, and now he was doing it himself. Now he didn't have a leg to stand on in that argument, did he? Wyatt lumbered a circle around their camp to try and catch which way he'd gone. The path became wider, spiraling outward before abruptly cutting back in to grab his flashlight and begin the search more vigorously... maybe a bit more frantically.
Bret came into view in a handheld spotlight and the delusions began.
Then the screaming.
When Tirzah found them, Bret's lifeless body had been turned onto its back to put the wound in his neck on full display, the bolt still stuck where it was with a swaddling of dirty chartreuse cloth tightly wound around the base, jammed between his bearded chin and the collar. Wyatt's head bobbed with his breathing, shallow and barely constrained, as he slouched on his knees to be almost directly over him and as close as possible. He refused to look at Tirzah, but something etched into his brow plainly told that he knew of her approach without having to look.
His first vocalization was a wheezing half-cough, the bastardized and malformed version of somebody trying to clear their throat when struggling to catch their breath. Wyatt's flashlight, still turned on, sat beside his dirtied legs and pointed in the rough direction of Bret's body to directly illuminate the elbow and upper arm, leaving the boy's face partially shadowed yet still plainly visible.
"He..."
He ground his teeth so they wouldn't chatter, so his shoulders might stop trembling.
"He was all I h... all I had, you know? He's all I got. Here." Wyatt dug his nails into his bare knees. "My br... my fucking twin brother. Our entire... LITERALLY our entire lives, you know!? We could always rely on each other, l-li-like, to have each other's backs." He worked his jaws again and he felt an acute pressure up by his eyes. He had no idea what it was or why it was happening. "There hasn't been a day I haven't had to deal with..."
With this fucking asshole. The guy I constantly fight with, the one who never agrees with me and disapproves of everything I do. There had not been a single day of rest or peace. They shared everything, in a sense, whether they liked it or not, and so they stepped on each other's toes. They came to blows multiple times that they thought they might tear the house apart until Dad, or worse, Mom, had to pull them apart. And in a strange demented sense, they were also different sides of the same coin. And he loved him. Even that stupid butt-ugly beard that he grew, just so he could look a little different, so people wouldn't confuse them.
Wyatt hadn't prepared for the day that might exist where he'd have to live in a world without Bret in it.
"You fucking idiot... what were you trying to do?" He said it quietly. A moment passed, the wind picked up for a short gust and rustled the few leaves that had time to dry and become unstuck from the ground. Wyatt leaned his body forward and pounded on Bret's chest with the underside of his fist, screaming right in Bret's face: "WHAT WERE YOU DOING!?" He would have loved for nothing more than for Bret to just magically come to life and tell him to stop screaming and stop acting like an idiot. He would have taken a punch, too, because it all would have been worth a sock in the jaw. And when there was nothing as he expected, Wyatt slumped back, defeated.
He sniffed.
"I'm not f-fucking ready, man."
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Ruggahissy
- Posts: 1593
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
Tirzah picked up her bag and looked around for a moment. It was quiet except for the sounds of crickets. Then she heard screaming. It was a deep screaming that sounded like it was borne from being deeply upset rather than from injury. Her brows furrowed and she walked quietly towards the sound.
She came up on the hunched over, shuddering, muscled form of who she assumed was Wyatt. She could just make out the head of Bret. The cause of death was obvious and she bit her lip and looked down.
Not good. She was down one body guard and that was obviously a step down. Tirzah also wasn't sure how this was going to affect Wyatt's performance going forward. She had to try and get ahold of what the new situation was.
Wyatt was on the ground, sobbing over his brother and telling her about how much Bret meant to him. She sympathized in a sort of distant way, the way you might sympathize with the plight of a character on a television show you were kind of invested in. Part of it was that she had no point of reference. Tirzah could only speculate what it was like to have someone you could always count on. I'm real sorry your jet ski crashed; a sentiment from someone who had never owned a jet ski.
Still, she knew that any death was upsetting and more grave than damaged property. Her hand tightened on the strap of her bag and she walked over to Wyatt. She thought, "What is literally the least I could do?"
Tirzah put a hand on Wyatt's shoulder and moved it back and forth gently.
She came up on the hunched over, shuddering, muscled form of who she assumed was Wyatt. She could just make out the head of Bret. The cause of death was obvious and she bit her lip and looked down.
Not good. She was down one body guard and that was obviously a step down. Tirzah also wasn't sure how this was going to affect Wyatt's performance going forward. She had to try and get ahold of what the new situation was.
Wyatt was on the ground, sobbing over his brother and telling her about how much Bret meant to him. She sympathized in a sort of distant way, the way you might sympathize with the plight of a character on a television show you were kind of invested in. Part of it was that she had no point of reference. Tirzah could only speculate what it was like to have someone you could always count on. I'm real sorry your jet ski crashed; a sentiment from someone who had never owned a jet ski.
Still, she knew that any death was upsetting and more grave than damaged property. Her hand tightened on the strap of her bag and she walked over to Wyatt. She thought, "What is literally the least I could do?"
Tirzah put a hand on Wyatt's shoulder and moved it back and forth gently.
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MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 1931
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
Under Tirzah's touch, Wyatt's skin quivered and shrank away. When her touch persisted, he tensed but did not pull away further. He was as if controlled by instinct, operating on reaction and reflex before something more manual in his mind allowed it to switch off. In a way, that was how Wyatt had always operated in his day to day life between the house and school, even around town. He'd already done the hard work of getting his body to the size and strength that it was so nothing around him could feel like a threat. Then he could coast, never having to actually think about what he was doing. He usually left the thinking to Bret.
Wyatt's breathing steadied out but held a deliberate pace and force. His voice sometimes wheezed or moaned with an exhale, little vocalizations from somebody who was clearly crying and making the minimum effort to hide it from the only flesh-and-blood person who could see it, the cameras long from Wyatt's memory as something that had never and would never directly affect him.
He clapped his hand over Tirzah's without warning, gripping a little tighter than he had wanted to or meant to. He breathed in, determining that he was steady enough to talk. When he did, his voice was low and a bit on edge with its tone, but it was the quietest Wyatt felt he could speak.
"I want... to re-negotiate our terms."
Wyatt's breathing steadied out but held a deliberate pace and force. His voice sometimes wheezed or moaned with an exhale, little vocalizations from somebody who was clearly crying and making the minimum effort to hide it from the only flesh-and-blood person who could see it, the cameras long from Wyatt's memory as something that had never and would never directly affect him.
He clapped his hand over Tirzah's without warning, gripping a little tighter than he had wanted to or meant to. He breathed in, determining that he was steady enough to talk. When he did, his voice was low and a bit on edge with its tone, but it was the quietest Wyatt felt he could speak.
"I want... to re-negotiate our terms."
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Ruggahissy
- Posts: 1593
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
Tirzah squeaked in shock when Wyatt grabbed her. She looked steadily at him until he finally spoke. She closed her eyes and nodded seriously.
"You want me to put you out of your misery so that you and your brother can be united."
Wyatt looked surprised at the suggestion, so she'd guessed wrong and backtracked.
"Ok, no. That's a no on that one. What do you want to renegotiate?"
"You want me to put you out of your misery so that you and your brother can be united."
Wyatt looked surprised at the suggestion, so she'd guessed wrong and backtracked.
"Ok, no. That's a no on that one. What do you want to renegotiate?"