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Yeah
((He was right where they had left him..))

It was kind of funny to him, now. The time they spent together. He tried to remember how long it was. No more than a few days - maybe four. It had only been two days since he had died and his corpse was already starting to rot. That, more than anything else, was the most striking feature about Jerry Fury. If you'd asked him a few days ago, maybe he'd have told you that it was the hair, or the way he carried himself, but right now the most striking thing about him was that he was dead and he was rotting. In who knows how long he would be dust, significant to no one. Then he would be nothing at all. So he felt like holding a grudge against him for trying to (and getting dangerously close) murder him was stupid. Maybe he should have felt that, but he didn't feel much of anything. Some dull acknowledgement that maybe he wouldn't be alive right now were it not for him. Gratitude at the very best, though in such little supply that it could hardly be called that. He couldn't really recall who the driver was. Serena, maybe.

Serena was confusing. Most women who weren't his mother confused him, but Serena confused him the most. For some weird reason she decided that he had to be grateful to her for saving his life when they were here. He was about as grateful to her as he was to Jerry. Not enough for it to matter. The point was to be the last person standing. Why she didn't run him and Bart over too, that was confusing. Why she had an assault rifle, that was also confusing, but he could figure out why that had happened. It was like she didn't want to win. That was more confusing than anything.

He glanced over his shoulder and started to stand up. Squatting in front of a corpse. He hoped no one saw that. Embarrassing - he figured he was being watched. Probably at all times. Who knew how many cameras there were here. He had stopped paying attention to them days ago, so much that he had practically forgotten about them until now.

((Matt Moradi continued somewhere else.))

Waiting for the End
Well, looked like things were going south on this particular part of the island. Alessio had thrown sand in Serena's face and - funny enough - started attacking her. And he expected Matt to help.. or maybe him providing enough of a distraction to do that was help enough. Either way, he didn't want to get involved. Slowly, he started to back away. He raised the gun he had stolen off of Aiden to the meet the sun and fired. Maybe that'd do something for them. Matt turned and ran after pumping the gun, not looking back.

((Matt Moradi continued elsewhere!))

Waiting for the End
The girl Matt didn't know was leaving and he didn't particularly blame her. She must have been feeling left out, considering she was the only one who didn't have a gun. Alessio was probably waiting to pull what Matt assumed was a gun out. Maybe shoot Serena and then him. Two for one special. He couldn't really figure out why he had come here. He didn't feel much like gloating to Serena. He didn't really have much of an opinion on Aiden - regrettable death. That was it. Serena seemed to be taking it personally. That was funny to him and he cracked a little smile.

"You're taking this a little too personally, I think, Serena.. we're playing a game." Slowly, he started to back away. He'd let Alessio shoot Serena, if he felt like it. He'd provided enough of a distraction for him.

"Sorry I killed Aiden," he said, lying. "And I don't really care how many people Alessio's killed.. why should I? Why should you? You're taking all of this personally, like you're the only one who got kidnapped. So stop thinking all of this is a personal attack on you. It's egocentric."

Having the gun made him feel confident. Just one pull. Who gave her a gun, he thought. Danya, maybe. Et tu, Brutus? Whatever. It was a competition. Wouldn't be fair if he was the only one with an equalizer.

Waiting for the End
((Matt Moradi continued from somewhere else.))

Matt walked north, without any particular location in mind. Just out of the danger. Away from somewhere that could cause his head to explode. He held the shotgun he had stolen from Aiden in his hands. He admired it. Fired just once. It was a work of art in its own special way, crafted by some unseen gunsmith whose face he would never see, who he would never have the chance to thank for gifting to him this wonderful thing.

He walked by the bell tower, admiring it. It was beautiful. He looked up to the sun and idly wondered about the guilt of whoever it is that made this gun. Where did he start and where did it end? Should the maker of the gun be blamed? The company? The designer, the miners who mined the material that later formed into this perfect tool? He was guilty, certainly, if he chose to fire it.

He happened to stumble upon three people. Two he recognized one he didn't. Serena with her back turned and Alessio. Alessio who he remembered had killed Henry Spencer. So long ago, he thought. Only a few days but a few days was all it took for Henry to begin decomposing. Soon nothing would be left of him and Henry Spencer would be a memory, one eventually judged unworthy of being passed on as his family members died. And then there would be no Henry Spencer.

Creeping forward, trying not to make a sound. He raised the gun to meet Serena's back as soon as she came within sight. She was pointing something a gun no doubt at Alessio, probably with the intent to kill him. He hoped that Alessio would appreciate this and consider him some savior.

"Hey," he said.

Breakfast
((Matt Moradi continued from somewhere else that I'll put here later, honest.))

Matt slept in the asylum that night. He didn't have dreams - not often, anyways - but that night he dreamed that he was home. That he was back in Arizona, studying to become a dentist like his father. He jolted awake and looked for the gun he had killed for. Grasping for the gun, he looked down at it. Staring at it. He shook his head before slowly starting to stand up, mumbling. Cold. It was morning. The flannel shirt he was wearing wasn't good enough. He needed to steal a jacket. Danya spoke and he spoke about all the people that had died the previous day. Eight people had died in total, three of them by his hand. He called Aiden's death exciting news. He would have been lying if he said he disagreed. Sniffing he looked around. The asylum. If he believed in ghosts he'd have thought this place was haunted.

Danger zone, regular treatment rooms. Then more interesting news.

He had won an award. He didn't feel very much - not pride - but he did feel good, albeit not very. Quietly, in the morning light he crept forward through the dark asylum, moving like some neolithic hunter in the unseen presence of a saber tooth tiger. Then he saw it. His reward. How it got here, he could never know. Never. It was the only question he would ask Danya if he were alone in a room with him (but questions wouldn't be on his mind if he were alone in a room with him) meaning it was a question that would remain unanswered for as long as he lived.

An M4 carbine and, more interestingly to him, food. He quickly picked up the rifle and slung it over his shoulder before turning to the more pertinent issue at hand. Breakfast. An omelette (smelling like something he would kill for) and a thermos. Quickly he uncapped the thermos and took a sip. Coffee. Hot coffee. He drank more before devouring the greatest gift he felt he'd ever been given, at least right now, quickly finishing off the omelette and side of hash browns. He looked over towards the window, towards the fallen tree that had broken into the asylum through means unknown to him. Something had knocked it over. A storm? He would never know but in here Matt realized that the island was beautiful.

The collar beeped and Matt realized that he had been sitting there, not thinking. How long he could only guess. Not long enough to die, he figured. He stood up, feeling stupid, and left, going through the entrance of the asylum that was nearby.

((Matt Moradi continued somewhere else.))

Open Your Eyes and Look North
He watched her drive off. He didn't yell anything back in response. There was nothing to say, really. She had absolutely no idea what she was doing and that was the only reassurance Matt had that he was safe. He didn't particularly know what he was doing, either - he had only started today - but that was still more than her.

Eventually, when she disappeared out of sight, he moved over to Aiden's corpse and took what little he had.

And then he left, not really thinking about Aiden anymore.

((Matt Moradi continued somewhere else.))

Open Your Eyes and Look North
Matt stared at her, not sure what to do next. He held the gun in his hands, spent shell lying on the grass next to him. An accidental warning shot by anyone's guess. He couldn't pull the trigger and he didn't entirely know why. She was running from him. She was afraid. A born loser. She was going to die. That's what he was telling himself. He didn't feel like killing anyone else today, accidentally or otherwise. He'd let her go. He'd let someone else do it.

He lowered the gun and shouted to her.

"Start driving."

Open Your Eyes and Look North
Dead. This was a mistake. Now he had two enemies - Serena and what's her name - to deal with. Later, he thought. He didn't feel much like killing anyone else today. The look on Aiden's face made him feel.. something. Not guilt but something halfway resembling regret and disgust.

Not at his own actions. Just that he'd let this get so out of hand. Serena was almost entirely out of sight, now. Why would he bother shooting her? She was going to be dead sooner or later maybe by his hand maybe by someone else's. It was pointless. He looked at her. The girl whose name he couldn't remember. She was reaching for her pocket.

Slowly, he started to raise the gun. So slow.

A sudden movement. Matt winced and fell backwards, firing a shot off. Towards the sun. Swearing he started to rise to his feet, pumping the shotgun and aiming it at her as she ran for the jeep. He kept staring. His finger was on the trigger but he wasn't firing.

Open Your Eyes and Look North
He heard them talking. Outside. Great. Just great. It sounded like they were panicking. Talking about something, frantically. Slowly it dawned upon him that they were talking about Aiden. Maybe he'd signaled to them or something from the top of the bell tower. Stupid. He should've finished him off. He stepped outside and suddenly it became clear to him.

He saw Serena running off into the distance. Briefly he considered shooting her when she ran away but decided against it. Unnecessary. Then he saw him. Aiden, dead. Must have jumped off the tower or something. He couldn't possibly hope to understand why. He looked at what's her name. The one whose name he couldn't remember. Aiden's shotgun now Matt's was in his hands and he looked at her with nothing on his face. Not guilt. Not malice. Nothing at all.

"Alright, uh, the jeep.. throw me the keys, now. Nothing funny or I shoot. Okay?"

He muttered something under his breath. Aiden. Jumping off the roof. Making him enemies where he shouldn't have them.