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Let the Darkness Flow Through You
((Matt Moradi continued from Wombo Combo.))

Having a gun made Matt feel powerful, even if it was technically worthless owing to the fact that it was empty. Just point it at someone and they'd be liable to listen to you, he figured - just like in that basement. Only two days ago but it seemed like an eternity. The warehouse reminded him of the closet, somewhat, only a lot larger. Nate and Ben weren't dead yet, against all odds, and he really was rooting for them, even though that technically meant he was rooting against himself. He didn't want to think about what he might have to do if someone else didn't get them first.

The warehouse had that familiar smell. A corpse, of course. Might've been dead for a few days by now, he couldn't entirely tell based on smell. Jerry was whining about how all his bullshit hurt and Matt didn't entirely care. Apparently the warehouse had a ton of soap in it.

"Yeah, this place sucks." Matt mumbled, following behind Jerry deeper into the warehouse. "This whole island can fuckin' blow me," he said, louder. "Think Cass is dead by now?" A question asked not out of malice, more out of genuine curiosity. A dozen different things could've happened to her. He hoped she was dead, at the very least. One less person to deal with.

"Fucking warehouse. The asylum has this storage closet. No dead people in it as far as I can fuckin' remember." Maybe Henry crawled in there to die. He didn't think it was likely, though.

Three sentences about your kid: Critique experiment.
matt moradi, if you can find the time

Wombo Combo
Matt's eyes still darted around, nervously. They'd been here far too long after the gun had went off for his liking, so he was glad that Jerry finally decided it was high time to get the hell out.

"Fucking Trav." he mumbled. Piece of shit just wouldn't let Jerry talk.

"Yeah, let's go." He shoved the gun down the waist of his pants.

((Matt Moradi continued here.))

Wombo Combo
So Cass decided to do something for once. Matt didn't lift a finger. If you asked him, he'd probably say that she just moved too fast for him to react, but he'd be lying. He just didn't feel like attacking her - unlike Trav, she really hadn't done anything. And then she ran off, hopefully to somewhere to die so he'd never have to see her again. The idea of running into Cass a few days down the line was one that ran wild in his head - maybe she'd sneak up on him while he's asleep and stab him to death. Or maybe she'd shoot him in the dick. Or maybe she'd do a dozen other things, each one increasingly more brutal and unrealistic.

Matt shrugged at Jerry. "I, uh, shit. Sorry. Want me to run after her?" He looked over to the general direction Cass had ran off in. "Nah, she's.. gone. No point." Did he know how to reset a nose? Well, no, but he figured he could try. All he'd have to do was just put it back into place, right? To make sure it healed correctly. Not that Jerry was going to live that long, but still.

"Uh, yeah. Just stay still." Matt grabbed Jerry's nose and, for a moment before the moment of horrendous pain came, he spoke a bit. "Okay, uh, I'm gonna do this. You know it's gonna hurt but don't fuckin' stab me or nothing as a reaction, okay?"

Then he tried to reset Jerry's nose. Sure, it was straight, but fuck would it hurt.

Wombo Combo
Matt felt as though he should be feeling sympathy for Cass. He wasn't feeling much - hungry, certainly - but emotionally he couldn't muster up anything. Trav attacked Jerry because Jerry couldn't talk his way out of a wet paper bag, which somehow made Trav more of a ratfuck meathead than Jerry. Trav tried to kill someone and he got the 9mm treatment as a reward. Matt wasn't unsympathetic to Trav and Cass because he gave much of a shit about Jerry - quite the opposite, what happened to Jerry at the end of the day was basically an inconvenience to him and he was only with him because it was preferable to being alone - he was unsympathetic because Trav wasn't the victim. It was self-defense.

He bent down to pick up the gun. Empty, but he could still point it at people or hit someone with it. And hey, having a gun, empty or not, made him feel powerful.

"Yeah, let it go. You're in the wrong here. Trav tried to fuckin' kill someone." spat Matt.

Wombo Combo
He glanced back at Trav's body - dead. He wasn't going to miraculously come back to life, that was certain, but he almost felt like it should've taken more to kill him. This was the man they'd been looking for, after all. Trav, the man, the myth, the soaked, bullet riddled corpse. So this was how someone's life could end, huh? All their trials, tribulations, and so on just leading up to this moment. Weird, painful, sudden. Kind of humorous, really, since Jerry did it. Toby didn't deserve it, as far as he was concerned, but this Trav guy's killing was definitely self-defense. So Jerry wasn't the most eloquent speaker, or maybe he just didn't think he could justify Toby's death and Trav decided to try and pick a fight with him because of that?

That was on Jerry, not on him.

He glanced back at Cass. She had decided to break down in tears and not really do much of anything. Great! No one else had to die today, at least not where he could see it. Been on Shitpiss island for five days and she was shedding tears over a prick like Travis. He kind of wanted to slap her and say 'get it together', but he felt like that'd just be a waste of time. She'd get over it. He slowly walked over to Trav's corpse, staring down at it. Yeah, still dead. Poor fucker just picked a fight with the wrong guy, he guessed.

"To the victor, uh, go the spoils, I guess. You want his stuff, Jerry?"

Kind of humorous. Yeah, that was this whole situation. A joke. A big joke.

Wombo Combo
"Yeah, hi." mumbled Matt. He looked around, eyes darting nervously. He wondered if he had always been this paranoid, or if it was this fucking island.

"You just shot someone. Gunshots are loud, Jerry, and we need to hide somewhere.. uh, in case someone comes looking."

He just remembered.



Wombo Combo
((Matt Moradi continued from here.))

Matt was lost. Not in the literal sense, like he didn't have an idea of where he was - he guessed he was just sort of lost in general. He just had no idea what to fucking do, because Jerry had killed another person. Travis. The guy he'd been looking for, at least up until yesterday. Dead.

Shot him. Must've been at least.. 8 times. However many bullets that gun had in it. He saw it all. He'd been trailing behind Trav and Cass, the same way a hyena trails behind a lion - waiting to swoop in and pick up the scraps when the real predator had finished. He stood there, staring. Trav was dead. Jerry was finished. Done. It was time for him to come in.

He started walking forward, even though he didn't think that this could end well. Slowly, he approached Jerry, a look of.. nonchalance, mostly, on his face. Trav was dead, deader than dead. Sure, it was regrettable he had to die, but a lot of people were going to have to die. Who was he to complain about that? To him, anyone who tried to play the "hero" just wasn't that smart. It wasn't right to revel in murder, sure, but the nature of the game was killing.

So who was he to complain? If anything, he should feel glad. That was how he justified it. That was how he stopped himself from thinking too much on it.

"Jerry, uh.." Had to play pragmatic. Be the voice of reason. "That was loud. We gotta get out of here."

What if I told you...
Going after Jerry. So was he. Maybe he could steal something off his corpse after Trav brutally murders him.

((Matt continued to Wombo Combo.))

What if I told you...
Okay, so maybe Jerry was afraid of Travis, that wasn't a big deal they could both probably take him WAITWHAT

Jerry was running away. This was, hm, a sticky situation. Does he run after him? Does he run away from Travis? What the fuck is he supposed to do now?

He looked between Travis, the direction Jerry ran off in, and the corpses. This looked bad. This looked real bad.

"Don't kill me." choked out Matt. He could hardly talk. Sure, he was staring down someone who was probably keen on beating him to death. And sure, he was totally unarmed. From a certain point of view, Matt was ripe for killing. Practically begging for it, if you asked someone like Nancy or Alvaro or Isabel. He had to start talking his way out of this, fast.

"Listen, I didn't even help him kill, uh, Toby. He was gonna kill me too!" He was starting to yell. He hated yelling.

What if I told you...
Matt shrugged. So Jerry didn't take him as the type of guy to go out of his way to kill psychopaths. That was fine. "Well, I'm ah, a big fan of self-defense. Gotta get them before they get me, right? Preemptive strike and all that." In a way, he really couldn't say that he didn't appreciate Alvaro and Nancy. Less people on the island meant less people who were going to try and kill him sooner or later. And he could appreciate the transparency, too. Knowing that someone was going to try and kill him. That was better than guessing.

"Pretty good," said Matt, sounding not at all that enthused with Jerry's sharp wit and one-liners. Time to pop the question.

"Well, uh, I was wondering if you could give me your gun. I mean, I'm unarmed, and uh, I'm a great shot. I used to go shooting all the time." Matt was lying. He hadn't held a gun in his entire life, but he figured that it couldn't be all too hard to figure out. And hey, he was on Pissfuck Island. He'd have to learn or he'd lose, and he wasn't keen on losing. It was like getting thrown into the deep end. Sink or swim.

Two people. Jesus, this must look bad. Talking about killing people standing over a bunch of dead bodies.

Matt was going to yell back that they didn't kill these people when one of them called out Jerry's name. He knew Jerry's name. It was Trav.

"Oh shit."

What if I told you...
((Matt Moradi continued from here.))

Jerry was yelling again, and interestingly enough this time he had a decent reason. They were stuck on this side of the island - the place was big, but being limited to only one half of it made Matt feel nervous. Like he wouldn't have as many places to run and hide when things started to turn south. The announcements weren't much of a concern to him, however. Just people he didn't know who would've tried to kill him eventually. Competition.

Still, coming face to face with one of Nancy Kyle's victims wasn't exactly high on his list of things to do. Jennifer Wallace. She looked pretty good, all things considered. I mean, she was as dead as they came. Rigor mortis definitely had enough time to set in and flies were starting to show up, but still! She didn't look half bad right about now.

Next to Jennifer was someone remarkably less good looking, however.

"Fucking shit. Who the hell is that?" He had absolutely no idea. Maybe another one of Nancy's victims, or maybe they just happened to have died close to Jennifer. He wasn't really keen on figuring it, right now. Right now, he was hungry. He needed food. Maybe he shouldn't feel so hungry after seeing two dead bodies? Well, Sandy kind of raised his expectations. Rotting, waterlogged corpse? Now that was something that could make him reconsider eating.

"Nancy Kyle did this, I think. She's a fuckin' bitch. We should kill her if we see her. Alvaro, too. Fucking prick."

Sure, Alvaro hadn't killed his friends. That didn't matter. What mattered was that Alvaro was dangerous. Sure, he could appreciate him removing some of the competition for him, but he might not survive a second run in with him. He didn't have anything. He felt naked. And hey, he figured Jerry was going to turn on him sooner or later.

"Hey, uh, Jerry. Can I ask you for a favor? It's kinda big."