Naptime

Now private for Kamideath. Sorry.

The barracks is a cramped place, having several long rows of bunk beds set closely to one another, creating a number of aisles between the ranks. Congested and with little room to manouvre, the barracks is far from a good place to hide.

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Cake
Posts: 599
Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 12:07 pm

#16

Post by Cake »

[[OOC: Apologies for the wait Outfox'd. Week has been killer! Still is in fact.]]

Luke sat on one of the low beds. His arms around his legs. His knees to his chin. His eyes, staring at nothing in particular. In an almost fetal position, yet still sitting up straight. Shell shocked.

Bryant had pulled the gun from his hands earlier. Said he would handle it. So, Luke knew what was to happen next.

He couldn't watch, he didn't even want to hear it at all. None of it!

BANG

NO.
NOOOOOOO.
STOOOOOOP!
STOP IT!
STOP THE NOISE!

Luke pressed his hands to his ears, trying to blur everything out. Trying not to hear the shot, the following commotion. All of it!

But then Megan started saying things. Right in front of him. Bursting out into sobs.

"I was only trying to help." She said between sobs and dashing with her helmet and Sor's hatchet away from him. Luke wanted to follow her, console with her. But he couldn't move. He was just frozen there, stuck in his fetal like position, with unblinking eyes.

Blood. There was much of it. In quick succession, the images he'd seen earlier, of Sor, Alex, Matt, and Joanne, flickered into his vision.

After a moment, Bryant spoke. Still staring at the body of what used to be Kami "Hit Girl" Steele. "Luke. You go...go find her. Make sure she stays safe."

Blood, more Blood. On Bryant's face. He took another life. After what was supposed to be their redemption from killers, to war heroes. But the harsh realities were set. There was no way out of this. Luke simply stared not moving yet, even as Bryant buried his face into his hands.

Luke simply looked forward. This was nothing anymore. He didn't know how to feel. There was no feeling. He'd seen his fair share of the gruesome events of this game, and then some. The bodies didn't phase him anymore. It was. It was something else. But he didn't know what.

A few minutes passed. Megan had probably traveled a bit now. Luke was also starting to become aware of his surroundings again. He even realized that he had been sitting there, in silence, rocking back and forth in his awkward position like some kind of crazy person.

Luke got up, took one look at Bryant. A feeling of remorse. "He'll never be the same."

He put on his shades and left to find Megan.

"I'll never be the same."

[[Luke Mendoza Continued To: The Burial Of The Dead.]]
Outfoxd
Posts: 496
Joined: Wed Aug 15, 2018 12:26 am

#17

Post by Outfoxd »

Bryant didn't hear what Luke said, didn't hear him leave. He was

defeated

content to stay there, next to his latest handiwork, while the blood ran down his face and he wondered just what the fuck he was supposed to do now.

It might have been an hour. It might have been five minutes. But he was ready to move, ready to continue the travesty that had been his life for the past day or so. He couldn't stay in the barracks the rest of the program, anyway.

He grabbed Kami's bag and pulled out the manual on the gun. a Colt 1911, it said. High caliber handgun, plenty of stopping power. He didn't need to read the manual for that. He just had to look at what it had done to the girl on the bed to know that.

The weapon had a seven-round magazine. Bryant popped the clip and counted the rounds, saw that the two that had been recently fired were the only ones missing. He dug back into Kami's back, found an ammunition box. He topped off the magazine on the weapon. That left him eight in the box.

"You a nigger ghoul, Bryant. A black hyena eating carrion. You sick motherfucker."

He turned the .45's safety on, loosened up his belt, slid the .45 into it, then tightened the belt around the weapon. It felt like it would stay secure.

That done, Bryant transferred whatever Kami had left of her food and medical supplies into his own bag, snapped up his shotgun (pausing to reload it), and started to leave. He stopped at the door, looked over his shoulder at the mangled body.

"One more for the road, girl. I'm sorry. Even if it don't mean much."

Bryant left the barracks for the third time that day, emotionally spent and sure of only one thing; that he had to be beyond saving by now.

((Bryant Carver continued in We Shall Be Together in Paradise))
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