"Hey, Chris! We still on for D&D Saturday?"
Chris turned to look at the rather portly teenager running up to him. He had stopped by the local grocery store.... But wait. This wasn't his life anymore, was it? Still, better to reflect on the past than be forced into acknowledging the present, right? ... Right?
Chris opened his eyes and immediately regretted it. The noonday sun was harsh on his eyes, and he fancied he could already feel his pale flesh burning. Hopefully, that wasn't literal. For the third time since this ordeal started, he sat up and winced as the injection point in his arm burned. He glanced at the strange wound. He had never seen a needle shaped like that before. He shook his head, which turned out to be a bad idea as a bolt of searing pain shot through him. He couldn't put in the effort to stand, but he did look around. He was in some... small town, basically. As he got his bearings, the smell of... rotting food, or something, struck his nose. Not a good smell. Not a good time for it, either. He dragged himself up, stumbling slightly. First order of business, get out of the sun. The sun was the enemy. The sun was the hated one.
The door of the building fought against his forced opening. Once he was inside, the human instinct to go for a light switch revealed that the electricity was still on. The quiet humming in the background was probably the refrigerator, although he dreaded what he would find upon opening it. If this day went the way it seemed like it would, it would probably be a dead body or something. Some poor woman, stuffed in the refrigerator. Chris stumbled into the kitchen, marveling at the utter lack of anything useful. Whoever had put them on this island had really not wanted them to multiply their force in any way. They had even stripped the doors from the cabinets so they couldn't be used as weapons. Damn his head hurt. Water. Water was important. Water was good. The sink, as he turned the cold water faucet, rattled and shook and spat out some sludge. Not surprising, the house probably hadn't been lived in for a while. He let it run for a moment while he sat on the counter and took stock of what he had. A splitting headache, pain, a mild sunburn on his nose, a pack that he had yet to open and himself, for what it was worth.
The pack seemed to be the next logical thing to investigate. He slid the zipper open and began pulling things out. A loaf of bread, some canned food, a bottle of water which he mentally set aside for when it was important, a knife, a small medkit, a gun which he hastily set down gently, a map and a compass. The compass didn't seem to work very well. It was pointing toward him, but wherever he moved it, it still did that. It was kind of stupid, although it was certainly better than nothing. If nothing else, he could throw it as a distraction. He sighed and began putting things back. As he picked up the map, a slip of paper slid out from inside it's folds. He picked it up. It read simply, "Electrical Current," which was as useful as any two words. He put everything away, resolving to investigate the medkit closer later, except for the gun. This, he picked up gingerly and began investigating.
Despite living in the middle of Hickville, CO, Chris knew very little about guns. His parents liked the idea in general, but felt that guns were a non-essential in their lives. As such, all Chris knew about guns was that they were loud and they killed people. He knew enough to know that the end with hole pointed away from you. He had seen enough movies to know that. Other than that, he was mystified. He held it at arms length and squeezed the trigger, which steadfastly refused to move. He got his other finger on the trigger and squeezed harder, which again did not impress the silly piece of plastic. He cursed under his breath and tossed the gun into his bag, wincing as he did so. He honestly expected it to go off when it hit the inside of the bag, but it just fwumped softly against the inside.
The water was now running clear, so Chris approached and took a sip. It tasted like heavy metals and was probably going to eat a hole through his stomach or something, but right now that didn't matter. The water cleared the bad feeling in his head like... rain on a sidewalk washed away chalk. Now satiated, Chris took his meager supplies and began pacing. However, without the water to keep his mind off the panic, the panic was making itself known. It seemed like something which required capital letters and redundancy. Like, The Panic is very bad because it makes you Panic, so The Panic is bad. Or something similar.
The last time he woke up.... That meeting room, that horrible place. The thought of it set his head spinning. He sat heavily on the floor and focused on remembering what had been said. The people in that room, the ones in the chairs. Their voices hadn't been much to go by, but they sounded like they were his age. 18 or 19 year-olds, from everywhere in the states, judging by the accents. Nobody from out of the states. How many had there been? 20, 21? No wait. One of them had been killed. The thought brought bile to Chris' throat, although he shoved it back. No time to be overly sentimental or frightened. The man had said that it was kill or be killed. Personally, Chris doubted that these teenagers would be willing to kill that easily. Was this supposed to be some sort of sick Psychology experiment? It was an experiment, that much had been said. But what was the purpose? The man, the leader had said that they had been given gifts. What gifts? The gun, the knife? What use were those- okay, he could see the use of those. But the man had seemed to mean it in a more insidious way. And the injection? Why had they- wait. The man had said something else. Something about a serum, and DNA. But that was ridiculous. That was the sort of thing that came out of comics and, and, and crappy science fiction novels! It had no bearing on the real world. Chris dismissed the notion to himself. The injection had to be were they put in the sedative the first or second times. The third one had obviously been a gas of some sort. His father would scoff at these presumptuous people. Science didn't work like that did it, Father....
Chris pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. It hit him now, like a baseball bat to the stomach. A deep sob escaped him, try as he might to press it down. He wanted to go home. His parents... would they know? Were they told? That would be a hell of a meeting: "Hi, yes, I represent an insidious terror organization. We kidnapped your son and are releasing him on an island to take part in an experiment. He will probably die. Sucks to be you, I guess." What the hell kind of pain and fear were they going through? Although, they weren't on this crapsack of an island. Well... he assumed it was a crapsack. There was entirely too much sun here, and that was enough for him. Another sob escaped his throat, shaking his body.
Awakening
(Open; Introduction of Chris Richardson-C16)
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armeggedonCounselor*
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Awakening
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((Subject C06: Jay Harland - Enter))
It was strange, waking up. Jay wasn't sure why, but as the dim colours swam back into his vision and his day began, Jay could tell that something was different: this wasn't like waking up in his bed, with his cosy bedroom becoming clearer as he became less and less groggy. Something was different. What?
Of course, waking up after going through an experience like that only keeps you wondering for so long.
At first, the memories came in slowly, as he became more and more conscious: the lab; the people; the gunshot – the gunshot that'd sounded so very real. That thought stuck out at him: it was so close, his ears still felt like they were ringing. Why were his ears ringing? Those memories, he realised, must have been dreams mustn’t they? Stuff like that didn't happen in real life, just in movies and games – Hell, they didn't even happen in movies and games! They just happened in the weirdest part of some guy's imagination!
So why were his ears ringing?
No, that was a stupid thought, a stupid thought that couldn't be real; he was probably just imagining it, since it was such a freaky dream. That was all, he was just imagining it; the more he woke up, the more it would seem less real. Lying there, eyes heavy and shut once more, Jay waited anxiously for his proof; as if to confirm his feelings, the ringing stopped almost instantly. He felt so relieved: he really was imagining it after all! Just one of his crazy dreams!
Chuckling slightly, nervously, at his own attitude to a stupid dream, Jay hesitantly opened his eyes to be greeted by his bedroom ceiling.
Naturally, his bedroom ceiling wasn't what greeted him.
Light poured in through the dirty window of the abandoned, otherwise empty building, shining weakly into the room and lighting up the weather ceiling. Underneath him wasn't his usual comfortable bed, but instead a cold, dusty floor.
It was undeniable: this definitely wasn't his bedroom.
His heart began started beating faster as a sweat broke across his brow; his eyes darted around in every possible direction. This was something else that didn't make sense! First the dream, then his ears had been ringing (imagined or not, it still didn't make sense!), and now he wasn't even in his room!? What was going on!?
His eyes fell upon the daypack strewn next to him, lying still by his arm. As if it was some vicious animal that would bite his fingers off, Jay nervously reached slowly for the zipper, shaking thoroughly throughout. With a gentle tug, the bag was steadily opened, its insides becoming more and more apparent to the terrified young man.
Food and weapons were the most obvious things that jumped to Jay's face, the slip of paper tucked to the side going unnoticed. The first thing he reached for was the food, instinctively going for the more familiar object. Tossing the rations over in his hands, he gingerly laid them by his side as if they would explode at any moment, before reaching in for the lethal objects: the knife, glinting in the light of noon, looked sharper than any of the kitchen knives he had ever seen before; the gun, its dull metal heavy in his hands, didn't look like any gun he'd ever seen in his video games. He begged for an answer to why these tools of death had been shoved into this bag next to him, his heart still racing alongside his rapid, delirious thoughts.
He remembered his dream again: that man in the gas mask had said that there were explosives inside him.
His eyes immediately drew back into his head.
He started rubbing his hands all over his body in horror, slamming them against his skin, praying that he couldn't find any proof of those words. Although his prayers were answered, he still couldn't believe that it was a lie; the man in the gas mask, he didn't have a hint of a lie about him. But then, it must've been a lie, mustn't it? This whole thing, it was just a dream!
The other thing that man had said: they were evolution.
Those words were just as enigmatic as anything that Jay had heard lately, but for all he was worth he couldn't understand them at all: the words seemed blurred in his dream, as if laced over with white noise. All he could remember was that he was evolution, whatever that meant.
Surveying his surroundings as he turned his head around, Jay saw the door out of the house. Confusion turning to desperation, he bolted for the front door as fast as his legs could carry him, grabbing the doorknob after several jittery attempts and wrenching it open with a loud slam. Outside, the light of day shone down onto him, the open door of another building opposite him.
This was real. This was real, wasn't it? It was. It had to be. There was no way, no way he'd dream something so vivid. No way he'd dream the hot sun shining on his face so mercilessly; no way he'd dream the chilling wind blowing through the air so hauntingly; no way he'd dream the nightmare scenario so disturbing. This was real.
Everything was real.
It was all real.
“I wanna go home...” was all Jay Harland could weakly cry.
It was strange, waking up. Jay wasn't sure why, but as the dim colours swam back into his vision and his day began, Jay could tell that something was different: this wasn't like waking up in his bed, with his cosy bedroom becoming clearer as he became less and less groggy. Something was different. What?
Of course, waking up after going through an experience like that only keeps you wondering for so long.
At first, the memories came in slowly, as he became more and more conscious: the lab; the people; the gunshot – the gunshot that'd sounded so very real. That thought stuck out at him: it was so close, his ears still felt like they were ringing. Why were his ears ringing? Those memories, he realised, must have been dreams mustn’t they? Stuff like that didn't happen in real life, just in movies and games – Hell, they didn't even happen in movies and games! They just happened in the weirdest part of some guy's imagination!
So why were his ears ringing?
No, that was a stupid thought, a stupid thought that couldn't be real; he was probably just imagining it, since it was such a freaky dream. That was all, he was just imagining it; the more he woke up, the more it would seem less real. Lying there, eyes heavy and shut once more, Jay waited anxiously for his proof; as if to confirm his feelings, the ringing stopped almost instantly. He felt so relieved: he really was imagining it after all! Just one of his crazy dreams!
Chuckling slightly, nervously, at his own attitude to a stupid dream, Jay hesitantly opened his eyes to be greeted by his bedroom ceiling.
Naturally, his bedroom ceiling wasn't what greeted him.
Light poured in through the dirty window of the abandoned, otherwise empty building, shining weakly into the room and lighting up the weather ceiling. Underneath him wasn't his usual comfortable bed, but instead a cold, dusty floor.
It was undeniable: this definitely wasn't his bedroom.
His heart began started beating faster as a sweat broke across his brow; his eyes darted around in every possible direction. This was something else that didn't make sense! First the dream, then his ears had been ringing (imagined or not, it still didn't make sense!), and now he wasn't even in his room!? What was going on!?
His eyes fell upon the daypack strewn next to him, lying still by his arm. As if it was some vicious animal that would bite his fingers off, Jay nervously reached slowly for the zipper, shaking thoroughly throughout. With a gentle tug, the bag was steadily opened, its insides becoming more and more apparent to the terrified young man.
Food and weapons were the most obvious things that jumped to Jay's face, the slip of paper tucked to the side going unnoticed. The first thing he reached for was the food, instinctively going for the more familiar object. Tossing the rations over in his hands, he gingerly laid them by his side as if they would explode at any moment, before reaching in for the lethal objects: the knife, glinting in the light of noon, looked sharper than any of the kitchen knives he had ever seen before; the gun, its dull metal heavy in his hands, didn't look like any gun he'd ever seen in his video games. He begged for an answer to why these tools of death had been shoved into this bag next to him, his heart still racing alongside his rapid, delirious thoughts.
He remembered his dream again: that man in the gas mask had said that there were explosives inside him.
His eyes immediately drew back into his head.
He started rubbing his hands all over his body in horror, slamming them against his skin, praying that he couldn't find any proof of those words. Although his prayers were answered, he still couldn't believe that it was a lie; the man in the gas mask, he didn't have a hint of a lie about him. But then, it must've been a lie, mustn't it? This whole thing, it was just a dream!
The other thing that man had said: they were evolution.
Those words were just as enigmatic as anything that Jay had heard lately, but for all he was worth he couldn't understand them at all: the words seemed blurred in his dream, as if laced over with white noise. All he could remember was that he was evolution, whatever that meant.
Surveying his surroundings as he turned his head around, Jay saw the door out of the house. Confusion turning to desperation, he bolted for the front door as fast as his legs could carry him, grabbing the doorknob after several jittery attempts and wrenching it open with a loud slam. Outside, the light of day shone down onto him, the open door of another building opposite him.
This was real. This was real, wasn't it? It was. It had to be. There was no way, no way he'd dream something so vivid. No way he'd dream the hot sun shining on his face so mercilessly; no way he'd dream the chilling wind blowing through the air so hauntingly; no way he'd dream the nightmare scenario so disturbing. This was real.
Everything was real.
It was all real.
“I wanna go home...” was all Jay Harland could weakly cry.
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armeggedonCounselor*
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A door slammed. Chris jerked his head up, looking around wildly before getting a hold on himself. The door had been outside, from one of the other houses. He stood slowly and made his way over to the window, which yielded as much to his sight as a brick wall, it was so encrusted with salt and grime. He wiped his finger across the surface, which did about as much as a feather would to a tree. The crust felt oily and hard and more than a little hairy. Chris sighed and leaned out of the way of the window, just in case somebody out there didn't like him. He gripped the bottom edge and pushed up, grunting with the effort. The wood and glass screeched as it scraped up, tracks that hadn't been used for a while being cleared of debris by the inexorable edge of the window. Once it was finally up, Chris leaned over and peered out.
The house across the way now stood open. Standing in the doorway was another teenager. He looked to be about Chris' age, and was probably another victim of this stupid experiment. The man in the mask's words rose to the top of his mind, about how in three days, only one would be left. That seemed... stupid, really. The evolution of normal teenager to killer should take longer than that. Still, Chris felt a little wary. The other boy definitely seemed stronger than him. Even with the force multiplication of a knife or gun, the odds were against Chris if the other boy decided to attack. Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?
Chris stepped out of the cool(er), dark interior of the house and into the hot, bright outside. The light glared at him in a most disconcerting and angry way, which seemed rather mean. The light had no need to do that. It wasn't his fault it was bright and... bright outside. He took a deep, steadying breath and began crossing the street. 'This is stupid. What am I going to say? "Uh, dur, I am Chris, I guess we are both in the same boat, and we may have to kill each other durrrrr." It's just stupid,' he thought, nearly turning around. But that would be even worse than approaching, so he approached until he was about ten feet away. He cleared his throat nervously and said....
"Hi!"
It felt bright and cheerful and hurt his soul. He flushed red with embarrassment and cleared his throat again, resolving to just keep his mouth shut next time.
The house across the way now stood open. Standing in the doorway was another teenager. He looked to be about Chris' age, and was probably another victim of this stupid experiment. The man in the mask's words rose to the top of his mind, about how in three days, only one would be left. That seemed... stupid, really. The evolution of normal teenager to killer should take longer than that. Still, Chris felt a little wary. The other boy definitely seemed stronger than him. Even with the force multiplication of a knife or gun, the odds were against Chris if the other boy decided to attack. Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?
Chris stepped out of the cool(er), dark interior of the house and into the hot, bright outside. The light glared at him in a most disconcerting and angry way, which seemed rather mean. The light had no need to do that. It wasn't his fault it was bright and... bright outside. He took a deep, steadying breath and began crossing the street. 'This is stupid. What am I going to say? "Uh, dur, I am Chris, I guess we are both in the same boat, and we may have to kill each other durrrrr." It's just stupid,' he thought, nearly turning around. But that would be even worse than approaching, so he approached until he was about ten feet away. He cleared his throat nervously and said....
"Hi!"
It felt bright and cheerful and hurt his soul. He flushed red with embarrassment and cleared his throat again, resolving to just keep his mouth shut next time.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler armeggedonCounselor. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Almost as soon as he had wished to be back home, the window across the street shunted upright. Snapping his head in surprise at the noise, he saw, to his horror, that it hadn't raised itself: the shape of a person was clearly seen by his widened eyes.
In a flash, Jay's mind was finally able to recall the words of the gas mask man, the scene clear and understandable, in all its terrifying meaning:
Three days: that's all they had. At the end of three days, there would only be one person left alive. No explanation of why there’d only be one person left: simply that statement that all but one of them was going to die.
There were others in that room, he remembered: the entire room was full of people, all tied into chairs like he had been; they had all looked just as confused and scared as he was. They had been put in the same situation as him, and they had all been told they had to kill each other!
Realising the most horrible part of what had been said made Jay's first instinct to deny it. They couldn't have really told him to kill everyone, could they? That was just insane! Asking, no, telling them to kill each other, asking them to die, it was -
Oh, right.
It wasn't impossible; it had happened already. That gunshot that had made his ears ring: it was someone being shot. People had already been killed. People were going to die again. Those weapons in his bag: Jay realised that they wanted them to use them to kill each other. Did that guy who appeared in the window have weapons too?
Remembering that guy in the window made Jay snap back to reality, recalling why he was thinking about the others in the first place. Looking in the direction of the window again, its sudden emptiness filled his heart with dread. Now, the guy in the window was stood in the doorway, and had started walking towards him.
Jay’s panicking heart beat even faster: the guy was walking straight towards him! Did he know they had to kill each other too!?
His legs frozen in fear, Jay stood there helplessly as Chris stopped ten feet away from him, and opened his mouth to let out a cheerful “Hi!” Jay, contrastingly, stayed perfectly still: he didn’t know what to say to that upbeat greeting, and his voice caught in his throat; he realised to his horror that he'd left his bag in the building behind him: he was completely unarmed! How would he defend himself if this guy was ready to kill him!?
Finally, his voice stuttered its way out of his throat, in a feeble whimper. “St...st...st...”
In a flash, Jay's mind was finally able to recall the words of the gas mask man, the scene clear and understandable, in all its terrifying meaning:
Three days: that's all they had. At the end of three days, there would only be one person left alive. No explanation of why there’d only be one person left: simply that statement that all but one of them was going to die.
There were others in that room, he remembered: the entire room was full of people, all tied into chairs like he had been; they had all looked just as confused and scared as he was. They had been put in the same situation as him, and they had all been told they had to kill each other!
Realising the most horrible part of what had been said made Jay's first instinct to deny it. They couldn't have really told him to kill everyone, could they? That was just insane! Asking, no, telling them to kill each other, asking them to die, it was -
Oh, right.
It wasn't impossible; it had happened already. That gunshot that had made his ears ring: it was someone being shot. People had already been killed. People were going to die again. Those weapons in his bag: Jay realised that they wanted them to use them to kill each other. Did that guy who appeared in the window have weapons too?
Remembering that guy in the window made Jay snap back to reality, recalling why he was thinking about the others in the first place. Looking in the direction of the window again, its sudden emptiness filled his heart with dread. Now, the guy in the window was stood in the doorway, and had started walking towards him.
Jay’s panicking heart beat even faster: the guy was walking straight towards him! Did he know they had to kill each other too!?
His legs frozen in fear, Jay stood there helplessly as Chris stopped ten feet away from him, and opened his mouth to let out a cheerful “Hi!” Jay, contrastingly, stayed perfectly still: he didn’t know what to say to that upbeat greeting, and his voice caught in his throat; he realised to his horror that he'd left his bag in the building behind him: he was completely unarmed! How would he defend himself if this guy was ready to kill him!?
Finally, his voice stuttered its way out of his throat, in a feeble whimper. “St...st...st...”
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armeggedonCounselor*
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Chris sighed, sitting down. "I guess you're afraid I'm going to give you a lead based lobotomy, eh? Well, don't worry. I'm not a killer," he said, holding his palms up to show he wasn't armed.
He looked up toward the sun and stood again, brushing dirt off his bottom. "My name is Chris. Chris Richardson. My dad's name isn't Richard, but that naming convention doesn't exist in America anymore. If I went to Iceland, it would be confusing, but it isn't here. So, what's your name?"
It still felt lame, but talking would help him keep his mind off of the situation, and help keep panic away. Panic was the enemy here, not the other teens. Panic is what would turn these innocuous people into killers. Chris managed to smile in a way he hoped was friendly and not his typical toothy grin which said he was more irate than friendly.
He looked up toward the sun and stood again, brushing dirt off his bottom. "My name is Chris. Chris Richardson. My dad's name isn't Richard, but that naming convention doesn't exist in America anymore. If I went to Iceland, it would be confusing, but it isn't here. So, what's your name?"
It still felt lame, but talking would help him keep his mind off of the situation, and help keep panic away. Panic was the enemy here, not the other teens. Panic is what would turn these innocuous people into killers. Chris managed to smile in a way he hoped was friendly and not his typical toothy grin which said he was more irate than friendly.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler armeggedonCounselor. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
The way this guy was talking was weird, to put it nicely.
Here they both were, in what Jay was all too certain at this point was most definitely not a dream, and here he was blabbing on about his name and life story in a mad way. How could he be so calm in the situation!?
“N-wha-what the hell are you on about?!” he asked loudly, irritated by this crazy person calling himself Chris Richardson. “Do you have any idea where you are?!”
It was annoying how this guy wasn't taking anything seriously at all, smiling at him with his toothy grin like he was some kind of idiot! As he sat there right in front of him, Jay's expression grew contorted with disbelief at the total lack of sense coming from the guy in front of him.
“Look, just, shut up! Just let me get away!” he demanded, having absolutely no interest in dealing with the weirdo in front of him; he didn't have a clue what he wanted to do, but he was sure that this was the last place he wanted to be. Right now, he needed somewhere to go to get his thoughts in order, and the last thing he wanted was a nut pot distracting him with his psycho babble!
“You're crazy!” he yelled, the panic from before still running strongly through his head. “You're totally crazy!”
Turning on his heel, he ran as fast as he could back to the building behind him, diving through the open doorway to his daypack he had left aside not moments before. His hands shaking, he fumbled to put everything back in the bag as fast as he could, leaving his back exposed to the doorway behind him. All he wanted was to get everything and leave; distressed as he was, he still had the sense not to leave all his supplies and weapons behind. However, the sense to keep an eye on the doorway behind him wasn't quite as apparent in his behaviour.
Here they both were, in what Jay was all too certain at this point was most definitely not a dream, and here he was blabbing on about his name and life story in a mad way. How could he be so calm in the situation!?
“N-wha-what the hell are you on about?!” he asked loudly, irritated by this crazy person calling himself Chris Richardson. “Do you have any idea where you are?!”
It was annoying how this guy wasn't taking anything seriously at all, smiling at him with his toothy grin like he was some kind of idiot! As he sat there right in front of him, Jay's expression grew contorted with disbelief at the total lack of sense coming from the guy in front of him.
“Look, just, shut up! Just let me get away!” he demanded, having absolutely no interest in dealing with the weirdo in front of him; he didn't have a clue what he wanted to do, but he was sure that this was the last place he wanted to be. Right now, he needed somewhere to go to get his thoughts in order, and the last thing he wanted was a nut pot distracting him with his psycho babble!
“You're crazy!” he yelled, the panic from before still running strongly through his head. “You're totally crazy!”
Turning on his heel, he ran as fast as he could back to the building behind him, diving through the open doorway to his daypack he had left aside not moments before. His hands shaking, he fumbled to put everything back in the bag as fast as he could, leaving his back exposed to the doorway behind him. All he wanted was to get everything and leave; distressed as he was, he still had the sense not to leave all his supplies and weapons behind. However, the sense to keep an eye on the doorway behind him wasn't quite as apparent in his behaviour.
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armeggedonCounselor*
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Chris was... not surprised, surely, just a little... taken aback, or something. The boy had shouted and run back into the house. Chris chuckled ruefully, not surprised that he had frightened or made the boy uncomfortable. He glanced back toward the house he had come from. Maybe he should just leave the other boy alone. Of course, all the survival shows on TV said that you were far more likely to survive with a group. Social interaction was good for mental health, or something. Unconsciously, Chris paced a short line in front of the house, talking to himself in order to plan.
Finally, he came to a decision. He turned toward the house and peered into the gloom within. What he was about to do was dangerous, to say the least, but a better choice than just standing out here. He sighed and stepped into the building, looking around for the other boy. He took on a more irritated tone, allowing some of his current emotional state to flow into the words.
"Alright, listen. First of all, yes, I do know where we are. Kind of. I mean, I couldn't pinpoint it on a map, but I understand that there's a good chance we'll end up dead before the end of the day. More importantly, I know that this is some sort of sick Psychology experiment, regardless of what had been said about the changing of DNA. Genetics doesn't work like that, that was just some way to cause us to try silly things like jumping off cliffs and trying to fly. Finally, the reason I greeted you so calmly was two-fold: first, I think sticking together is a better idea than going off alone. Second, I'm trying to keep myself from panicking, and talking is a damn good way to do that. So, you know my name. What the hell is yours, or am I going to keep thinking of you as boy?"
It was a long speech. It wavered and twisted slightly with emotion, although Chris managed to keep it from showing on his face. 'Analyze. Be analytical. Emotion is another enemy here, one that can get you killed. Anger and fear should be kept down and away. Don't panic. Don't panic,' he thought, keeping his thoughts focused. A stray thought could blind him or cripple him far more effectively than a knife or a punch. Still, the introspection brought his attention away from the boy.
Finally, he came to a decision. He turned toward the house and peered into the gloom within. What he was about to do was dangerous, to say the least, but a better choice than just standing out here. He sighed and stepped into the building, looking around for the other boy. He took on a more irritated tone, allowing some of his current emotional state to flow into the words.
"Alright, listen. First of all, yes, I do know where we are. Kind of. I mean, I couldn't pinpoint it on a map, but I understand that there's a good chance we'll end up dead before the end of the day. More importantly, I know that this is some sort of sick Psychology experiment, regardless of what had been said about the changing of DNA. Genetics doesn't work like that, that was just some way to cause us to try silly things like jumping off cliffs and trying to fly. Finally, the reason I greeted you so calmly was two-fold: first, I think sticking together is a better idea than going off alone. Second, I'm trying to keep myself from panicking, and talking is a damn good way to do that. So, you know my name. What the hell is yours, or am I going to keep thinking of you as boy?"
It was a long speech. It wavered and twisted slightly with emotion, although Chris managed to keep it from showing on his face. 'Analyze. Be analytical. Emotion is another enemy here, one that can get you killed. Anger and fear should be kept down and away. Don't panic. Don't panic,' he thought, keeping his thoughts focused. A stray thought could blind him or cripple him far more effectively than a knife or a punch. Still, the introspection brought his attention away from the boy.
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Though he moved as fast as his shaking hands could to stuff everything back into his bag, Jay was still not fast enough to finish up before he heard the voice of Chris behind him once again, blathering on once again; Jay really couldn't care less anymore what he was saying, he just wanted to get the hell away from there.
Whilst barely listening to what he was saying, Jay finally managed to cram all the items back into the bag in a cluttered pile, pulling in a rush to close the zipper around the crudely laid objects. Everything was back in his bag now, so he could get lost and forget about this nut job behind him!
However, he had kept one item out of the bag.
Spinning around, he wrenched the daypack up with one hand, whilst pointing the Jericho at Chris with the other. In his panic, he had neglected to even realise that he safety was probably on or debate whether it was loaded, but those matters were hardly going through Jay's mind: he was more pre-occupied with making sure that Chris knew where he stood.
A wave of confidence rushing over him as he realised that he was in control, his hands became ever so slightly more still, the gun's aim becoming more precise, as he slowed down at grinding his teeth together in terror, leaving his face with a toothy glare.
“I don't give a damn what you're thinking wit'! Just keep away from me, Chris.” he snarled; the disinterest in his name, and Chris as a whole, were apparent. “Now, get away from the door! Get out of my way!”
The gun in his hand doing a far better job at intimidating than he could ever hope to accomplish, Jay slung his daypack over his shoulder and started walking towards the doorway, the distance between his weapon and Chris narrowing all the time.
“Move!” he ordered, desperate to escape.
Whilst barely listening to what he was saying, Jay finally managed to cram all the items back into the bag in a cluttered pile, pulling in a rush to close the zipper around the crudely laid objects. Everything was back in his bag now, so he could get lost and forget about this nut job behind him!
However, he had kept one item out of the bag.
Spinning around, he wrenched the daypack up with one hand, whilst pointing the Jericho at Chris with the other. In his panic, he had neglected to even realise that he safety was probably on or debate whether it was loaded, but those matters were hardly going through Jay's mind: he was more pre-occupied with making sure that Chris knew where he stood.
A wave of confidence rushing over him as he realised that he was in control, his hands became ever so slightly more still, the gun's aim becoming more precise, as he slowed down at grinding his teeth together in terror, leaving his face with a toothy glare.
“I don't give a damn what you're thinking wit'! Just keep away from me, Chris.” he snarled; the disinterest in his name, and Chris as a whole, were apparent. “Now, get away from the door! Get out of my way!”
The gun in his hand doing a far better job at intimidating than he could ever hope to accomplish, Jay slung his daypack over his shoulder and started walking towards the doorway, the distance between his weapon and Chris narrowing all the time.
“Move!” he ordered, desperate to escape.
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armeggedonCounselor*
- Posts: 23
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:30 pm
Chris stepped back slightly as the other boy whipped around. The gun captured his attention straight away. Panic began to bubble up from the depths, although he pushed it out of his mind. He looked back up into the boy's eyes and held his hands up. He glanced toward his own day pack, hanging loosely on his arm. There was no way for him to get his gun or his knife. The gun wouldn't be much use anyway. He needed to sit down and examine it or something, because he felt he was missing something obvious.
Wait. Why was the other boy walking forward? That made so little sense. With the gun, he had the advantage of range. By closing the distance between them, he was opening himself up to be attacked. 'Hm.... Maybe I could press the advantage? He's rather panicky right now, it shouldn't be too difficult to get him off balance. Only one problem: If I were to mess up, he has a weapon there that will kill me dead. Best not to chance it,' he thought, stepping aside.
"Fine. Don't expect anything nice out of me next time we meet," he said, keeping outwardly cool.
Wait. Why was the other boy walking forward? That made so little sense. With the gun, he had the advantage of range. By closing the distance between them, he was opening himself up to be attacked. 'Hm.... Maybe I could press the advantage? He's rather panicky right now, it shouldn't be too difficult to get him off balance. Only one problem: If I were to mess up, he has a weapon there that will kill me dead. Best not to chance it,' he thought, stepping aside.
"Fine. Don't expect anything nice out of me next time we meet," he said, keeping outwardly cool.
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“Yeah, you're damn right I don't expect anything nice!” Jay yelled, keeping his gun pointed firmly at Chris whilst moving ever closer. He didn't give a damn about whether this guy was trying to be his friend or not; now was not the time to be making friends! Right now, he needed to get the fuck away from there and get some time to fucking think!
The gun was only inches away from Chris at this point, Jay's finger still clutched around the trigger loosely. He couldn't think about whether or not he had it in him to kill anyone right now; all he could think about was the guy right in front of him who had barely moved an inch.
“All the way! Get in the fucking corner!” he screamed, face red with anger. His heart was beating faster and faster with each passing moment, the panic from before transforming into rage at this insistent obstacle. Why was he taking so long to fucking move!? How hard was it to move out of the way of a fucking gun!?
“Move right now!” he continued screaming, having no patience for getting the guy out the way. If he didn't move soon, Jay wouldn't be able to control himself much longer: he was terrified, confused, and outraged; it was a very dangerous combination of emotions, one that could prove to be his or Chris' undoing.
He stood there, glaring madly into Chris' face, the gun pointed right between his eyes. He couldn't think at all right now; he was acting purely on one simple instinct: get the fuck out of there right now!
The gun was only inches away from Chris at this point, Jay's finger still clutched around the trigger loosely. He couldn't think about whether or not he had it in him to kill anyone right now; all he could think about was the guy right in front of him who had barely moved an inch.
“All the way! Get in the fucking corner!” he screamed, face red with anger. His heart was beating faster and faster with each passing moment, the panic from before transforming into rage at this insistent obstacle. Why was he taking so long to fucking move!? How hard was it to move out of the way of a fucking gun!?
“Move right now!” he continued screaming, having no patience for getting the guy out the way. If he didn't move soon, Jay wouldn't be able to control himself much longer: he was terrified, confused, and outraged; it was a very dangerous combination of emotions, one that could prove to be his or Chris' undoing.
He stood there, glaring madly into Chris' face, the gun pointed right between his eyes. He couldn't think at all right now; he was acting purely on one simple instinct: get the fuck out of there right now!
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armeggedonCounselor*
- Posts: 23
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:30 pm
Now Chris was getting angry. He had stepped out of the way, and there was plenty of room. Also, the boy's yelling had sprayed spittle all over his face. That was really gross. The cogs in his brain began turning. The boy had continued his approach and was now standing with the gun pointed directly at Chris' face, less than a foot away. 'Do I show him the folly of getting so close? I had decided to acquiesce to his request for me to move originally, but now I'm pissed. I... I think I could...,' he thought, looking at the gun.
No. That would be a bad idea. It would lead to a fight Chris would certainly lose, and losing a fight here meant more than bruised ribs and a talking to by a Principal. He stepped back further, until his back pressed against the wall. "Is this far enough back?" he asked, a bit of anger leaking into his voice.
No. That would be a bad idea. It would lead to a fight Chris would certainly lose, and losing a fight here meant more than bruised ribs and a talking to by a Principal. He stepped back further, until his back pressed against the wall. "Is this far enough back?" he asked, a bit of anger leaking into his voice.
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Good, he was moving; he wasn't a total idiot after all. Jay's breathing slowed down as things went more and more his way, as he edged closer towards the door. He kept his gun trained on Chris at all times, keeping his eyes burrowing into his on the off chance he decided to get smart.
“Yeah, stay right there, you...” he snarled, flicking his head between his threat and the doorway, doing several takes before deciding it was safe. In a flash, he had darted out of the exit and started running as fast as his legs could carry him, slowing down and turning around every few seconds to make sure that he wasn't being followed.
Despite his precautions, he couldn't feel safe. Chris could come dashing behind him the moment he stopped looking back! How the hell was he supposed to keep calm if he thought someone was sneaking up behind him the moment he stopped checking?!
No, he couldn't think like that! He had to keep his cool, Jay realised, trying his best to calm himself down as he stopped turning around. Keeping the gun tightly in his hand, he eventually slowed to a walk at the edge of a group of trees, stopping to turn around one last time to make sure he was safe. It seemed safe for now, but he couldn't stop running yet; he had to keep going until he knew that he had left the crazy guy behind him in the dirt.
Stopping only for a second to catch his breath, he took off once again. For now, all Jay Harland could do was run.
((Jay Harland continued in A Peaceful Walk))
“Yeah, stay right there, you...” he snarled, flicking his head between his threat and the doorway, doing several takes before deciding it was safe. In a flash, he had darted out of the exit and started running as fast as his legs could carry him, slowing down and turning around every few seconds to make sure that he wasn't being followed.
Despite his precautions, he couldn't feel safe. Chris could come dashing behind him the moment he stopped looking back! How the hell was he supposed to keep calm if he thought someone was sneaking up behind him the moment he stopped checking?!
No, he couldn't think like that! He had to keep his cool, Jay realised, trying his best to calm himself down as he stopped turning around. Keeping the gun tightly in his hand, he eventually slowed to a walk at the edge of a group of trees, stopping to turn around one last time to make sure he was safe. It seemed safe for now, but he couldn't stop running yet; he had to keep going until he knew that he had left the crazy guy behind him in the dirt.
Stopping only for a second to catch his breath, he took off once again. For now, all Jay Harland could do was run.
((Jay Harland continued in A Peaceful Walk))
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armeggedonCounselor*
- Posts: 23
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:30 pm
Chris briefly considered attacking the boy as he left, but put the thought out of his mind. He watched the boy run away for a moment before he stepped out into the sun. He sat on the doorstep, digging into his bag. He pulled out the knife, which he slammed point first into the ground in order to ease some of his anger, and the map, which he unfolded. Again the slip of paper drifted out of the mess. It still read Electrical Current. Chris shook his head and shoved it back into the pack. The map was more important. He looked it over. He was fairly certain that he was in the area marked "The Settlement." The sun was just starting to drop toward the horizon, toward the one o'clock position. Arbitrarily, Chris called that direction west. It was toward the mountain, which he found on the map. Okay.... The other boy had gone south from here, which was obviously ruled out as a direction for Chris to go.
He looked over the map again. He definitely didn't want to be in the sun for a long time, so the best bet was a nearby area. Perhaps the Church? It would be a good place to go. Only downside was that there was probably somebody there already. Still, it was better than nothing. He pulled the knife out of the ground and looked at it for a second. It hadn't come with a sheath, which made carrying it a problem. Pocketing it could lead to it slicing through his pocket, and it would slice his belt loops. With a burst of inspiration, he took his left shoe and sock off. He wrapped the knife with his sock before sticking it in his pocket. While this was less comfortable for his foot, it was more comfortable than a knife in his thigh would be. With this all set, he set off toward the Church.
((Chris Richardson continued in Hope.))
He looked over the map again. He definitely didn't want to be in the sun for a long time, so the best bet was a nearby area. Perhaps the Church? It would be a good place to go. Only downside was that there was probably somebody there already. Still, it was better than nothing. He pulled the knife out of the ground and looked at it for a second. It hadn't come with a sheath, which made carrying it a problem. Pocketing it could lead to it slicing through his pocket, and it would slice his belt loops. With a burst of inspiration, he took his left shoe and sock off. He wrapped the knife with his sock before sticking it in his pocket. While this was less comfortable for his foot, it was more comfortable than a knife in his thigh would be. With this all set, he set off toward the Church.
((Chris Richardson continued in Hope.))
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