Screw this, I'm outta here

[Fiori]

((Bruce Nightingale continued from It's not like its for real or anything, right?))

Bruce never looked back for even a brief second as he continued to run aimlessly into the middle of the desert, desperate to get as far away from the trading post as humanely possible.

His mind was a jumbled mish-mash of confused and conflicting thoughts, usually centred on the fact that the game as it turned out was VERY real. And that he really did just shoot someone in the chest earlier, in front of several witnesses too. Not matter how much he tried to convince himself that it was just a dumb accident, he couldn't shake the face that he had just committed outright murder. Sure, he didn't mean to kill her, but that didn't change the fact that someone was now dead because he wasn't taking this situation seriously.

Oh fuck, what if my folks at home find out? Jesus Christ, I'm going to be in a shitton of trouble for this!

Eventually he slowed to a halt to catch his breath, the sniper rifle still clutched in his hands. It wasn't until this point that it dawned on Bruce that he had completely neglected to bring his bag along with him, and that it was still back in the wagon he started out in.

Oh... Fuck it. Someone else has probably gotten their hands on it by now. Screw this game, I'm getting myself outta here. There's got to be civilisation around here somewhere. Its isn't as if we're on an island or something, right? I can just walk away from this place, call for help. Maybe get the US Marines or the FBI in and save everyone! Then I'LL be the hero, and hopefully everyone will forgive me for the whole accidentally shooting someone in the chest thing! Bruce, you are a fucking GENIUS!

The thought did briefly occur that the sherrif had mentioned something about not leaving the boundaries, but honestly Bruce couldn't recall what it was exactly. In any case, he was probably bluffing just to scare everyone. After all, it wasn't as if he surrounded the place with minefields or something, right?

With a new goal in mind, Bruce began to walk in the direction that he assumed was north, still carrying his trusty gun beside him. After all, no point in dumping his only means of defence right? Besides, if he saw a helicopter or something, he could signal it was a gunshot or something. Or maybe, if it belongs to the mofo who brought us here, maybe I could shoot the pilot or something like in GTA? Aw man, that would be friggin sweet!

As he continued to walk, Bruce couldn't help but notice that the collar around his neck was beginning to irritate him. He knew that it would eventually bug the hell out of him, but he hadn't expected it to actually feel as though it was tightening over time.

Damnit, this is starting to kinda piss me off. Wonder if I could loosen it or something...

As he fumbled with the collar around his neck, Bruce was shocked when it began to constrict even more. Instinctively, he tried to pull back on it, but this only caused it to constrict even more. In a state of panic, Bruce began to tug harder and harder, but all this did was cause the collar to choke him even harder. If he wasn't in such a panic, he probably would have realised that the best thing to do would have been to leave the damn thing alone, but in all the chaos the only thing Bruce wanted to do was tug it off.

JESUS CHRIST, GET THIS FUCKING THING OFF ME! WHY ISN'T IT...

Suddenly, it stopped constricting, and his neck and fingers erupted in a sharp pain unlike anything he had ever experience before. As he looked down at his hand, Bruce realised that all the fingers that been grasping his collar had been neatly sliced off, his own blood freely trickling from his open wounds. He tried to scream out in pain, but his voice sound muffled as his vision quickly began to get hazy.

The fu...

Within seconds, Bruce slumped over onto his knees before falling flat on his face, blood flowing from the two deep cuts on his throat where the concealed collar blades had slashed him.

Bruce was dead before he even hit the floor.


M08: Bruce Nightingale - DECEASED