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SOTF Halloween Movie Night
I think that, in the future, at least one person should watch a film all the way before we make it an option for movie night. See if its appropriate for the entire site, avoid future mishaps, right? D:

SOTF Halloween Movie Night
TBH in stream chat
Gilbert for day 2 BDA

This, pretty much.

Notes from an Even Smaller Island
"Ah... that's what I meant. I was thinking that if someone comes by hurt, we could, you know, help them out."

If they're still alive, Emma added mentally, but she stopped herself from thinking that.

Then Jaime decided to insult the terrorists.


Emma looked around her, as if something expecting to happen. She didn’t think their abductors would appreciate someone insulting them, and if they were petty enough… were they petty enough? Well, they were terrorists. She wasn’t sure if something would happen if they started yelling at them. She remembered a detail. It came up when she did her project, and they'd mentioned it during the briefing. Emma touched her neck, feeling cold steel. If they wanted to, they had the ability to kill them literally at their fingertips. Just a press of a button, and then... gone.

It didn't help that Amanda and Lucilly still weren't here. But their voices were getting closer. That was good. If it turned out the terrorists were the type, though...

"Anyways, they want us to kill until only one of us lives, but... I don't want to. It's beyond disgusting. You don't want to either, right?"

Jaime most likely didn't. Even if she had a temper, she still was a good person, right? She'd been with them for this long without anything happening, and she just insulted their captors. Amanda and Lucilly, they were good people too.

"I hope something happens. Maybe someone will send a-"

She cut herself off in realization.

"... boat."

Emma remembered another detail. In 2008, over 250 were abducted. But about 30 made it home. That wasn't a huge number. But it was something, anything. There was a way out.

"Jaime," she said. "Do you hear about the one class that got kidnapped? In 2008? They were able to rescue some of them. If we hold on long enough... we might be able to go home, right?"


That seemed like the most beautiful word right now.

St. Patrick's Purgatory
Well, then. Jasper had asked if Tara was okay after, y’know, sticking her arm in a bonfire. She flat-out stated “no”, but it wasn’t the flames. Apparently, Tara had run into Other Cris and Abby before they… “lost.” Junko looked her over as she fished out that first aid kit. Yeah, that arm didn’t look good, did it? No shit it wouldn’t look good after being roasted.

Then Tara said it, and Junko tensed up.

“How to die, huh…” she said quietly.

She briefly looked off to the side, in thought. She didn’t think about dying too much since she got here. Well, she thought of ways she could die. She thought of Mr. Graham. But she didn’t think of the way she’d like to go out. Not really. But after a second, Junko knew her answer.

Should she say it, though?

Junko once again moved her head to look back and forth between Jasper and Tara. She decided ‘yes.’

“I made a decision, a long time ago. I saw Mr. Graham die, like everyone else, and... I don’t want to die like that. I’m not going to die like that. Period.”

Her muscles were primed to go. If this turned out to be a scary movie ‘I’m about to kill you’ sort of question, well, she could act. She had a bat for a reason.

“If I have to die, I have to go down swinging.”

Her knuckles turned white against the bat for emphasis.

“And no, that doesn’t mean I’m going to just… I dunno, kill random people. I’m not a killer, remember the announcements? But I’ll do whatever it takes, and…”

She trailed off. Junko decided she didn’t like this question. She wasn’t sure why Tara felt that burning driftwood and herself was a way to mourn for other people, nor was she sure where she was going with this. For a moment, Junko even wondered if she should ask if she needed help with her arm. It wasn’t like she knew a shit-ton about first aid, but she knew some things. Tara looked weak and in pain, too. But, she decided against it. Pragmatism? Well, she was technically still the enemy right now. For a moment, she felt a twinge of something familiar, but she pushed it aside. It was a feeling she’d realized was useless some time ago.

So, so tired...
((Jennifer Wallace continued from Little Pig))

Her feet were tired. Her mind was weary.

Jennifer wasn’t in the best mental space possible. They hadn’t made it to the depot before nightfall, so they spent the night in the woods. That wasn’t as bad as it sounded at first, until she woke up with some red bumps from mosquitos. Lovely. She had to hope that they didn’t carry any diseases. It would be the worst thing ever if she somehow survived, only to die of malaria a few months later. Then they finally made it to the supply depot. It wasn’t long before the announcements came on and declared it a “danger zone” anyways, though.

Jennifer could remember the panic she felt once that was announced. She only had, at most, a few minutes to process who died and how before that terror sunk in. They escaped though, thank god. But it meant that the one place they’d been trekking towards was no longer available.

She would have loved for a pen and paper, too. They’d taken hers, which was a damn shame. It would have been a prudent idea to keep information like who was killing down in a notebook. That way, she could easily figure out who to avoid. She wasn’t sure where she could get something like that, either. But she remembered some details, and…

Scarlett McAfee was dead. Jennifer remembered her. She wrote Star Wars fanfiction, and was an energetic, talkative girl. Who’d just murder her with an ax, honestly? What’s worse was, Danya had cracked a joke about it. She was sure he’d cracked a joke about all of them. Cristobal Morales was also dead, and got a joke about it too. But they, and others, were dead.

She wished she could have written everything down. She wished that she could have fully processed who died, and who murdered in time. Wishing didn’t do anything, though.

So, Jennifer wasn’t in the best of spirits by the time they made it to the warehouse. Her feet were sore, and she needed a shower, a cup of coffee, some aspirin, and some bug spray. But they slipped inside, and like Bart, she placed herself on a crate, her leg muscles still aching. She wasn’t out of shape, not by any stretch. A few years of hiking and urban exploration had made her able to walk for quite a while. Looking him over, she couldn’t imagine how Bart felt. His face was red, and the scent that fell off him had increased, as if it because he was sweaty. He hadn’t done so good hiking, either.

She looked at him, sitting on the crate across. Jennifer wondered for a moment if she could ask how he was. But another question came up.

“Once we’re done resting, do you think it’d be a good idea to see if there’s anything useful we could find?” she asked.

Notes from an Even Smaller Island
Ah, so Jaime was friends with Conrad too, then. Of course. Emma knew who Junko was. The track team captain, right? She was friends with Cris and Haley too, she was pretty sure. She didn’t know Junko too well aside from that. She always seemed a little... well, Emma didn't know what to make of her. She probably wasn't a bad person, though, right? Alessio, on the other hand, was a quiet boy. He was into robotics, right? Maybe he was friends with Lily.

Oh, there were a lot of people to look out for. There was the rest of student council, of course. Memories came back. She remembered Conrad, and how they had run in the same election this year. He as the Vice President, her as President. He had trouble with his speech, but he made a quick save in the end. He served his council duties well, as long as she'd known him. Joshua, Joshua was the Vice President for the Juniors. He always came with a bunch of enthusiasm. He was also the Tennis Team captain, and played flute and piano. She didn't know Alex, the Treasurer, as well as she could have, should have. But she remembered that he was super into fight choreography or something like that. Bridgette was here too, she was sure. Bridgette was smart and a perfectionist. They were part of the school's band and orchestra together, too.

Speaking of which, there were a lot of people from band, too. Jeremy, for one. He always had this odd sense of humor. She remembered that one day in Health class, for example. They'd made jokes about how the bananas chose who was worthy. Danny and Haley were there too, weren't they? She didn't have that great a relationship with Jonathan, but she had to wonder about him, too. Was he here?

Sabrina was definitely here. She didn't want to lose her. She... just didn't. Her cousins were probably here too. At least, some of them. Cris was somewhat gloomy, but he was incredibly talented at baseball. Lily was smart, too, and Tina? Tina... had been there for her when she wasn't feeling well. Haley, they'd bonded quickly with Jeremy that one time for a reason. Eliza had done urban exploration and hiking, and it meant that if she had to hike through some kind of literal mental asylum...

For a moment, Emma felt vaguely nostalgic. But the horror came back just as quickly. The blood could have belonged to anyone. Anyone who came to mind just now, that could have easily been theirs. Or even someone she didn't think of right off the bat. Jaime even reminded her of how they could easily be killing each other, or getting killed by someone.

Emma went silent for a second. The tin med kit felt heavy in her hands. She nervously shifted her legs underneath her as she looked around for the source of the blood.

"I hope not," she said, a sad smile on her face. "Let's just... keep our heads up, alright?"

Lucilly and Amanda hadn't come back, she realized. She could still hear them talking, though she couldn't make out what there were saying. Hopefully everything was alright. Hopefully.

"Jaime?" she asked. "Have you seen anyone? I mean, like, if someone comes by injured..."

Her fingers wrapped around the clasp, wondering if she should open the first aid kit. She looked around. There was still a possibility that they'd hidden in one of the rooms.

SOTF Halloween Movie Night
*pops in*

Maybe multiple evenings, if we can't settle on a movie/time?

*pops out*

St. Patrick's Purgatory
For a moment, Junko wondered if this was a good idea. She had no idea what boat person and fire person got weapon-wise, so she may have ended up getting herself into a bit of a problem. But a head popped out of the boat, and Junko recognized it as Jasper Bustamante. He was a vlogger, a member of the soccer team, a furry or something like that… and that’s all Junko could remember off the top of her head. Wait, wasn’t he friends with Caedyn too? Joy.

He’d given her a nervous smile and a greeting of his own. Junko gave a slight smile in turn. However, her eyes looked him up and down. She didn’t see a weapon, so he probably couldn’t do much right now, could he? However, his expression changed, as if he saw something just out of her vision. Her gaze followed, and-

For what felt like her entire life, Junko was familiar with “challenges.” In elementary, she and her friends got into trouble for things like snorting sriracha up their noses. Not much had honestly changed since then: whenever there was one of those dumb Internet challenges people had, Junko was usually the first to try it. Eating cinnamon? Done that. Her doing the ice bucket thing was largely an excuse to pour ice all over herself, to be honest. Salt and ice, bug eating, chubby bunny, saltines? Yeah, those too. Point is, she didn’t do it all the time, but there was a lot she’d tried.

But Tara Behzad’s attempt at what appeared to be some kind of fire challenge… well, even Junko had her limits.

Was it appropriate to joke about that, or anything? Well, was it? Well, if “Beat a Classmate” and “Mug a Murderer” ever became a challenge like that, she’d already completed both. Okay, yeah, some joking is okay, she guessed.

Anyways, Tara. Kind of an odd person to begin with. She was a runner too, but she’d always been a bit of an enigma, that one. Pretty much a quiet type. Junko looked into her memories, to try to remember if Tara was the type to cover her arm in shortening- was that what that was? - and light herself on fire. Okay, yeah, her mind was running a blank right now.

For a moment, Tara’s words brought back another image. Mr. Graham came back. The terror etched into his face, the way that guy stepped behind him, the blood spraying everywhere, it all replayed. Junko’s smile faltered. It was not at what Tara was doing. But she picked it back up a second later.

“Well, my mistake. I guess ‘shitty morning’ is more appropriate?” Junko said, with a quiet chuckle.

Tara didn’t appear to be armed, other than with fire and Crisco. Okay, what can she do here? Was she just… supposed to walk away? Fight them? She could probably try the latter if she wanted, but two people might make things a little more difficult. Alliance? Was that even safe? They weren’t dumb like Darius, or murderers, but you know. Better safe than sorry.

Gah, this was one big mistake, wasn’t it? She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she saw smoke and fire, then came across this little scene. Okay, time to strategize. She didn’t think she needed any more food and water right now, so she didn’t need to steal from them too, did she?

In any case, she once again kept her grip on the bat tight.

Little Pig
Bart spoke up again, saying he was going to look outside to see if the coast was clear. About half a minute later, he came back, saying the coast was clear. Jennifer let out a puff of air. She didn’t even know she was holding her breath.

“Alright,” she said, gently patting her pack to remind herself she still had it.

She realized Kiziah hadn’t replied to her inquiry. Maybe she felt safer with the gun, after all, or that she didn’t like the idea of someone else handling it. Either way, Jennifer felt like she shouldn’t probe further. It was polite, and it would make things more comfortable.

As she followed the other two out, Jennifer noticed the manual, still laying on the ground next to an easel. After a moment of hesitancy, she slowly reached down to pick it up. She placed it into her bag, and zipped up again.

She still hoped some boats, some helicopters- anything- would come by.

((Jennifer Wallace continued elsewhere))

Little Pig
A book? Weren’t they supposed to be weapons? How was a book going to kill someone? Unless it was a hardcover, or was about murder methods. Then again, she remembered a detail that came up when she was doing research for her blog. Sometimes, abductees were given purposefully awful “weapons”, as if some part of a sick joke. Jennifer shook her head at the thought. There was a special place in hell for them, if they not only were responsible for the deaths of hundreds, but thought it would be something to poke fun at.

“I agree with the supply depot. As the name suggests, there might be things left behind. Some might even be in good condition.”

Jennifer looked down at her shoes for a split second, then looked up.

“Also, I’ll need better shoes at some point,” she added.

Heels could only get her so far.

“I don’t think I need the gun, but if it makes you feel more at ease, I could hold on to it?” she said.

V6 Reduced Activity Notices
Hey guys, I'm sick, and also need to study. I'll still be on, but things may be a little slow on my end.

St. Patrick's Purgatory
((Junko Kurosawa continued from Slow Motion Rocky Punches))

Junko stopped jogging. Stopped humming. She just stood there, her shoes sinking into the wet sand. It wasn’t long before some new challengers had shown up. From some feet away, she saw the smoke rising into the sky like a beacon from what appeared to be some kind of bonfire. That’s what she thought it was, based off the orange light on the ground.

Should she approach that, or just bolt for it?

Junko thought for a second, then slid the bat out of the bag. It felt a little better on her shoulders, anyways. The extra food and water, plus the hammer, made things a little heavier. She still had no idea what to do with the hammer, but she didn’t throw it out. She liked the bat better, though. It seemed more comfortable in her hands. So she took a few steps forward.

As she did, she heard a few sobbing noises. She turned her head, and just barely noticed what seemed to be the shape of a person lying in a dinghy. Well, that cleared things up, didn’t it? Fires on the beach, and someone crying inside a boat. She couldn’t tell who anyone was, either, which made things even more weird. Also, who starts a campfire in the morning, anyways?

Junko placed herself in between the dinghy and the fire. She slung the bat over her shoulder casually. She tried to think of a witty one-liner, maybe some kind of boat or fire pun, but she couldn’t think of anything. So she thought of the next best thing. She cleared her throat, looked back and forth at the person in the boat, then back at the person standing near the bonfire. Then:

“Good morning!”

Her voice was friendly. However, the muscles in her limbs were tight.

Notes from an Even Smaller Island
Oh, that seemed smarter.

Amanda told them to stay there while she went after Lucilly. It was clear that Emma was still in no shape to run after a spooked Lucilly. Amanda was more fit, more able. So, she nodded and went back, her heart still pounding and her hand still keeping her balanced against the wall. Somewhere she heard Lucilly cry out an apology in the distance. Hopefully that meant that they were coming soon.

Emma placed- no, slammed, even if she didn’t intend it- the bag onto the ground. Her heart was pounding faster. She knelt down on her hands and knees. Amanda was more fit, but Emma knew first aid. So did Jaime. It made sense for them to stick around in case someone was still here. There was the possibility that the blood’s owner was still around. Still alive. She unzipped, and took out the tin kit in a swift manner.

But what if the person who did that to them was still here?

She pushed it aside.

Jaime asked a question. It was a bit of an odd one, and a bit… poorly phrased? It was blunt, at least.

“Ah… I have a sister. You know Sabrina, right? She was on the trip. Some of my cousins might have, too.”

Thinking about it a bit more, Emma knew lots of people. People from the student council, people from band and orchestra. Tutors, study buddies, you name it. For a moment, she imagined the possibility of the blood having belonged to any of them. Their last moments could have been in pain, or they could be pulling themselves into hiding, the blood trailing behind them. She frowned. She didn’t like thinking about it.

“Maybe some people from band or student council,” she added.

The more she thought of it, the more that she thought of that one possibility that the blood was theirs. She shifted nervously. Emma didn’t want to, but her head turned towards the direction Lucilly had been standing. The blood still shone in the dim light. It was a lot. If someone didn’t do anything soon, if the person was still alive… she didn’t like thinking about it.

She wasn’t sure if it was an appropriate time to talk about this, but she had to ask.

“What about you?”

Slow Motion Rocky Punches
((Junko Kurosawa continued from Helvetica Standard))

Once Junko stopped running, far away from the library, she set down her two bags. Her breath was fast, so was her heartbeat. But it was disturbingly easy, that stunt. It turned out all she needed to do was hit her and take the bag. She hadn’t looked through it yet, for obvious reasons, but you know. The familiar runner’s high had come back, but her shoulders did ache a bit from the extra weight. It was somewhat faint, but she still reached up to rub her shoulders.

It looked like she was in some kind of cove area. There were boats, but one of them looked like it had ripped to shreds, almost like paper. The other boats didn’t look too much in shape, either. One looked like it was sinking a little. There was a jetty thing too, but that didn’t look so stable, either.

The memories of fighting Darius and robbing Jasmine were still fresh in her mind. She still couldn’t get over how he dumped out her water for his stupid plan. Of course, since robbing Jasmine didn’t happen all that long ago, it was about as fresh as you could get. Occasionally, another memory came back. The look of fear on Mr. Graham’s face, how his head splattered around him. It was still a horrible way to go out, that Junko would never want. Other than Darius trying to slit her throat, she hadn’t seen any other dead bodies or been attacked. She attacked, though, if that meant anything?

She didn’t think she was a bad person, though. Darius was a dumbass, and while Jazzy wasn’t that good she at least didn’t kill her. Just set her back a bit, she guessed. But yeah, nobody died because of her, so it wasn’t like she was just slitting throats left, right and center. And it wasn’t like she didn’t do it for a reason, either. Water was important, so was food.

Did she feel a little bad? Yeah. She’d never planned out highwayman shit like that, nor did she ever get into an actual fight before Darius. When she joked about fighting people, it was just that: a joke. She’d done dickish things in video games, some of it was like what she did to Jasmine. But real life and video games were different, obvs. Conscience was a little difficult to get rid of entirely.

Again, she wasn’t a bad person, though, right?


In a way, fighting Darius and stealing from Jasmine was a bit of a reassurance. She knew she was capable of defending herself if someone were to actually fuck with her. She’d gotten into two fights already, if you could count Jazzy as a fight. She’d come out on top. She didn’t know what she’d do if someone got a gun or something, but fighting people the way she’d been thus far? Was again, disturbingly easy.

So she let out a few chuckles. Maybe it was the runner’s high, maybe it was the fact that she was actually doing well thus far. But the next few days were going to go over smoothly, if this kept up. Junko knelt down, and unzipped Jasmine’s bag.


Some time passed.

Junko had emptied Jasmine’s bag of anything useful, and tossed the rest into the tides. She had spent the night in this cave. Well, part of the night. She woke up at one point and realized that her butt was wet. Turns out sleeping in a cave near the tide was miserable. Who knew, eh? So she had silently cursed her decision and moved somewhere else.

She’d been awake on and off for the past few hours, until the sky started to change to shades of blue, pink, and yellow. That’s when she stood up, and stretched.

Okay, so that’s one day down. She wasn’t sure what her end goal was, to be honest. Be the last to die? That idea didn’t seem so appealing, actually. If everyone but her died, it’d suck. Hold out until rescue comes? Would rescue come? Survive. Yeah, actually, that was the closest to her end goal here. Survive, until… something happens. She wasn’t sure what.

From the trail, she watched the sunrise and the waves moving in rhythm to her own breath and heartbeat. It was calm. She hated it. It was like waiting for someone to attack you. That had to be the worst part, come to think of it. That feeling of boredom, where you can’t keep your mind off shit, while wondering if someone was going to come up and try to kill you. Junko even found herself wishing that someone would try. How fucked up was that?

When it was a little more light out, Junko remembered that one of her favorite things was when she was able to exercise in the morning. It was something she did every week. She needed to keep herself in top shape for a reason. She’d also always been an early bird, so most of the time she was up this early anyways. Usually she stretched a bit, did push-ups and sit-ups, jogged. Then she would reward herself with a shower before going to school. She’d done it on the morning of the trip too, actually. Maybe it would help a little bit. Something she’d always done, right?

For some time, Junko exercised. What made things trickier was that there was a shitload of sand, so it made stretching a little weird. Not something she was used to, stretching near the beach. She’d tried push-ups and sit-ups, too, but that was even worse. She got sand all over her. Maybe it would have been a bit better if she had laid something down beforehand.

Jogging, however, was the easiest part. It wasn’t a secret that Junko loved running, jogging, and sprinting. She was on the track team for a reason, of course. Even had the 400m record for a while. Junko decided on doing a few laps on the beach before heading out somewhere a bit warmer. She re-tied her shoes, zipped up her hoodie, put on her shades, and went to work.

Junko didn’t usually listen to music while she jogged. Normally it was just her and her own thoughts. It wasn’t that she hated music or something, just that she liked to jog without. But here, here it felt like some kind of music was appropriate. Sadly, they’d taken anything that could be used to make music. They’d taken a snack bar she had in her pocket, too. Like, they literally reached in and grabbed it when she was unconscious. Bastards. She hoped that they’d choke on it.

Anyways, music seemed fitting. Junko hummed a bit of the Rocky theme as she jogged. They’d played it during practice and events a few times, and it was a damn good motivator. Upon her second lap back, she heard a sound. She stopped, feeling her muscles tense.

For a moment, Junko didn’t know what it was, until she remembered. They were supposed to do announcements each morning or something, right? She wasn’t sure where exactly it was coming from, but it seemed to be closer to the trail. She stepped closer.

“… live. I'll let that sink in for a moment, because if you can put two and two together, you'll conclude that means some of you aren't."

Junko leaned her back against a large rock and listened. She tried to keep a straight face. But, for a second, her hand clenched and her facial expression darkened. Then relaxed some. They meant a different Cris, than… the one she was thinking. His team mate. A shy boy, but pretty skilled in his own right. Kimiko got him. The same Kimiko who she once had a talk about comics during lunch. Some strange world, huh?

Tina, who she was pretty sure was related to the Cris she was thinking of, had died too. Tina was someone she’d thought she’d get to know a bit better, but the thing was, if she’s dead, that can’t happen.

Conrad, Joshua, and Harold, of all people, died too. She wasn’t sure what to think.

"Last, but by no means least, the guys in the office were a big fan of Kimiko Kao out there and are pleased to announce her as the very first winner of the V6 Best Kill Award. Come along to the Helipad to collect your well-earned prize. See you all tomorrow, kids. Try not to die until then."

A clicking sound, and then it went silent.

Junko wrapped her arms around herself in thought.

Shit was getting real, wasn’t it? Like… eight? Maybe ten. Let’s go with nine people. About nine people died yesterday. At least.

Actually, Junko did have something to think about Joshua. Jasmine killed him. As in, the Jasmine she ran into yesterday. Well, there you go. A reason not to feel bad about robbing her. Apparently she impaled him on a sword. How she did that, Junko had no idea. But there was a chance that it happened before she’d run into her. Well, it was nice to know that at least she picked someone who might have deserved it, right? Just walked up, slammed the bat into her head, and took her stuff. She might have done that to a cold blooded murderer.

There was something satisfying about that.

What about the people who died? Was she sad? She guessed. These were people she knew, in some way or another. But she didn’t want to be sad. It hurt a little, but she had a feeling being sad wouldn’t help too much. She was going to try not to grieve too much. Even if she died here, she didn’t want to die feeling sad for everything that had happened. It wouldn’t help.

Maybe there was another way to look at it? If you’re made it this long, it’s an accomplishment. Period. She could have gotten her throat slit by Darius, and hell, Jazzy could’ve found a way to impale her too. She’d made it to see another day. As selfish as it sounded, she felt like she had to be happy that she was still alive, too. She still wasn’t a bad person, though, right? Unlike some people, she hadn’t killed anyone.

After what she’d experienced so far, Junko felt like she could take on anyone, and made her decision. She wasn’t going to be sad, or guilty or whatever.

Junko pulled her hood up.

There was going to be someone else she had to deal with. Who, she didn’t know. But there was going to be another challenge for her. Another battle, another enemy. Another day, too.

Junko shook her limbs a bit. Maybe she should continue jogging, get her going again, you know? Five minutes later, Junko went back to what she was going. Her humming followed.

((Junko Kurosawa continued in St. Patrick's Purgatory))

Little Pig
Suddenly, the room got tense. Bart asked if everything was alright. Kiziah even apologized. What for? Perhaps because she didn’t feel it fit to bring it up? That’s a possibility.

“Oh, no need,” Jennifer said, slightly leaning forward to get another look. “I thought I’d ask because, well, it’s good to figure out what supplies we’ve got to work with, right?”

She leaned back up. A shotgun could be useful. It wasn’t like they were going to actually kill anyone, obviously. But you could use it to scare someone away with the sound, provided you pointed it away from them as much as possible. You could hunt animals, too, but she wasn’t sure if Kiziah or Bart knew anything about hunting. Also, what kind of animals they could hunt was a factor too.

“Full disclosure: about roughly three feet of chain. Not sure if it can be useful right now, but that’s what they gave me, so…”

Okay, back on subject.

“Anyways, Bart’s idea is sound. Head southwards, and we’re less likely to encounter anyone who’d investigate the sound. Any ideas on safe spaces to hole up?”

Notes from an Even Smaller Island
Once Emma had untangled herself from Amanda, she noted how her legs still felt a little wobbly. Her eyes still felt exhausted and unfocused. But again, it was an improvement. Her steps were more steady.

“Oh, and uh… thanks, by the way,” she said, a small smile on her face.

Amanda had tried to open a door, and… it wouldn’t budge? Emma guessed it was rusted shut, or maybe it was locked. By who, though? She didn’t want to think about that. Maybe just that: rusted. Emma clasped her hands in front of her, hoping it was just so old that opening it would be difficult. Sure, some part of her wanted to find someone friendly, or her cousins and sister.

Lucilly had approached another door, but suddenly stopped. Emma couldn’t see her face, but the silence set her on edge. Emma had a bad feeling. Lucilly pointed her flashlight towards the ground, and while Emma couldn’t see what she was looking at, she seemed to tense up. Emma felt her own muscles tense up when Lucilly started shouting and Jaime cursed.

“Blood?” she asked, her voice going high.

Someone got hurt here. Who, she didn’t know, and she couldn’t see the blood for herself. But it was fresh, recent blood. Blood could mean anything. Her own blood started pounding. It only got worse when Lucilly started to run the other way.

“Hey, wait!” Emma yelled.

Lucilly, Lucilly was running, and someone had to go after her. Emma felt her own legs moving. Her footsteps stomped underneath her, but there was one problem. That problem was her legs weren’t entirely steady yet. She felt her foot trip a bit, making her balance uneven. Her right hand used the wall for support as she tried to catch up to her. Her legs felt like they were made of jello. She didn’t want Lucilly to get hurt, or lost, or-

“Lucilly! Wait!”