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V6 Ninth Rolls
Michael Crowe was a real human bean and a real hero.

https://youtu.be/J9IPR0xPg2E?t=44s

Real Human Being
Jonathan continued forwards into the woods. They mentioned that if they got separated, they'd regroup at the vehicle depot. He was afraid for Mike, but it's what he wanted.

He had hope though. He looked at the emblem on the back of Michael's jacket. He's been through worse than this. He'll make it out alright.

He continued to move through the forests until he heard a faint echo.

He froze in his tracks, unsure of who it came from. He wanted to turn around, he wanted to see.

He forced himself not to, he had hope.

That's all he was running on at that point.

(( Jonathan Gulley continued elsewhere))




















































































































Unbeknownst to him, however.



Michael Crowe was killed in his fight against Alex Tarquin.


B011- Michael Crowe- ELIMINATED

Real Human Being
This was it then.

"Yeah, that was different, that was me or you. Like it is now. It helped, kinda. Made me realize this whole thing is pointless, being so close to death. It was either me or you, and either one didn't matter at that point. Now... Now it does."

This fucker wanted to talk about differences? Why they were the same but not. Why Alex was the villain but also the hero because 'muh honor'. That non-existent honor he's got a real fetish for. The same honor that lets him cut someone on the ground, or target the defenseless first. At least Michael gave him a warning before he attacked him. He could've killed him three times before today. He didn't.

The difference was, was that even though Michael used underhanded tactics, even though he intimidated, interrogated, and insulted his way here, he did it for his own idea of justice. Sure, it got corrupted along the way, but the difference was Michael realized it. He gave up, because he wouldn't let this island change him. It wasn't gonna take who he was away from him. I think, therefore I am, and all that jazz.

Maybe, maybe he was lying to himself a little bit. He gave up because spending his remaining time left with Jonathan was a better alternative for him than dying alone in some shithole. He had his own selfish reasons, but really, what difference would it have made. If he stayed on the road he was on he'd have died horribly. Maybe he left because he thought he could find some peace in his last days. Not like it mattered though. He left the garbage, but it was right there waiting for him in the end. Cue M.O.O.N- Dust and the chicken reaper telling him he fucked up or some shit.

Alex said Jonathan could leave. If there was anything Michael could take comfort in, it was that.

Jonathan protested almost immediately.

"No! No, Michael, I'm not leaving you here, you're coming with me! You tell him to fuck off, to find someone else to kill!"

He grabbed Michael by the arm, he wanted him to turn around, to look at him. He held his hand, and only then realized his right pinkie was missing.

"Jon... It's gotta be this way-" "No it's not, you're just saying that because you're afraid of what's gonna happen to me! You shouldn't, we know it's over anyways, we're as good as dead, you don't have to do this for me! W-we could just... we could turn around right now, drown ourselves in the ocean and not even give him the satisfaction for it!"

"Jon... I know I told you I gave up, but... This last day we had. I'd go through everything again ten times just for that one moment again. If I gotta fight one more time to do this again, to be with you again, I think it's a fair trade, don't you? I'm not afraid, I won't lose. T-this ain't over."

"Then why are you crying? You're afraid you're never going to see me again aren't you. Michael, we don't have to do this..."

"I-I know we don't. But I do... I've given everything for you, and if you think I won't do it again, you're wrong. It don't matter if I die here, I've been dead for five days now. Today though, the day I spend with you, it was my one day alive. I've been dead for five days, and today I live. You've given me everything I could have ever wanted. You were worth it all."

"Stop it! Jus-just stop with the action movie bullshit! You're giving him exactly what he wants! Please Mike... Don't leave me."

"I. I-I'll never leave you. No matter what happens tonight, I'll never leave you. Don't worry Jon... It's just one last fight. Not for justice, or freedom, or anything we'll never see again. This one's for us."

Jonathan realized he wasn't going to get to him. He walked in front of Michael just for one last thing.

It was another kiss.

"I'll wait for you."

Jonathan ran away, not looking back.

Michael stood unmoving. He didn't even get to tell him he loved him.

Here he stood, tears dripping down his eyes, torn up mouth quivering, he tried to smile. It didn't work. That was his last chance at happiness, and it was gone.

There were nothing wrong with emotions. It was okay to be afraid, and okay to feel sad. You wanna know what courage is? You get up and fight even if you're scared of what'll happen if you do, because you don't give up. And if you turn that sadness into anger, you're putting your feelings into a productive use. He wanted to see Jon again? Well then he'll fight for it. He'll give this fucker all he's got because he won't let Alex take away everything from him. Not now, not when he's finally found some semblance of peace. Alex wants a fight? Then he'll fucking get one.

"Lemme tell you something, now that he's gone. You talk all this shit about differences, but let's go to the similarities. I'll tell you a big one. I see two dumbass glory hounds facing each other on a dead end road, ready to tear each other apart for some chance at glory or justice or what the fuck ever. No matter what happens though, neither of them are gonna get what they want. You wanna see the difference? One of them was smart enough to realize it, but he realized it too late. The other won't hear any of it."

Michael took two steps back, drawing a line on the docks with his axe. He wouldn't move past this spot. He didn't care to hide the fact he was crying. Hell, this was the first time Alex saw his eyes since he woke up on the island. It was fitting really. If he went out, he wasn't going out as a facade. He was leaving as him, on his own terms.

"I've got no regrets..."

He pointed his axe at Alex.

"Let's dance, fucker."

Real Human Being
"Bullshit..."

Jonathan watched as Alex called Michael a coward, as he ranted on about striking first. How it somehow made him the good one.

"Bullshit..."

He looked back and forth between the two. At first, it seemed like only Alex was getting angrier. Then he saw Mike's face twitching, that rapid breathing that was so familiar. He's seen Michael fight back in Kingman, and one of two things happened.

He'd either sucker punch them when they didn't see it coming and be done with it, or if they did see it coming, he wouldn't let them off the ground.

Jonathan was sure Michael was gonna choose the latter.

"Bullshit! You fuckin' hypocrite! You wanna talk about honor and cowardice or whatever the fuck it is you jack it to, but your only fuckin' kill was a damn girl with nothing on her! That's all you did! You hadn't fought anyone else, hadn't beat anyone else either! You're not some fuckin' warrior, you're not a badass! You're forgettin' each time you got me I wasn't looking at you! I was focused on someone else!"

Jonathan watched Michael practically explode on Alex. He told him everything he thought about Alex's idea of 'cowardice'.

"You wanna play the big bad wolf then go ahead, I grew the fuck up out of it! But I want no fuckin' part, you hear me? I gave that shit up because it was pointless, but it looks like you're too stupid to realize it either!

'Oooooh look at me, Big-Bad fuckin' Tarquin, here! I killed one little girl and now I'm hot shit!' Fuck off! Nobody knows your goddamn name, Mr. one kill! Someone like Alvaro, Nancy, or Isabel would eat you and shit you back out you fuckin' wimp!"

Michael cocked his head, before unzipping his jacket.

"I quit that shit because I knew it was pointless, I'd rather spend my time with the ones I care about! You got anyone you care about, Alex? How about Jeremy? What happened to him, huh? You don't got anyone do you?

Just yourself.

That's all you got, ain't it? It's just you. That's why you gotta play like that, you're afraid nobody's gonna mourn you, so you want people to remember you. Alright, fine, I'll get people to remember you."

Michael took off his jacket and handed it to Jonathan. It didn't take but a second later for Jon to stop him.

"No, what the hell are you doing?! After everything, you're just going to go back?"

"I don't have a choice. If I don't, he'll go after you. That's the way he plays, the fuckin' hypocrite."

"You're hurt though, you might not win this!"

"So's he. I scrambled his brains with a shock knife. That's why half of him looks like a baked flatbread."

Jonathan saw Michael crack a smile, it helped to ease his worrying, but not by much.

"You're really gonna fight him?"

"Nah. I'ma dominate him."

Michael turned back to Alex. He began walking forwards, pulling his sunglasses out of his shirt pocket. He was halfway to putting them on, before he realized he didn't need them anymore. He didn't need the mask anymore.

Oh... and it was also some time after midnight. That too.

The shades made a small clink sound as the hit the docks while Michael walked past them.

"Maybe you're right though. Maybe I am a coward. I beat Nancy, I beat Alessio, and I beat you. Didn't kill none of you. Guess I was afraid of getting blood on my hands, right? Maybe I might be to scared to kill you now.

Don't matter though. I'll just pop your other eye out and let Will do the rest for me, okay? I dunno, depends on how I feel I guess. Y'know you could always leave. Ain't no shame in changing your ways if it's for the better."

He grinned watching Alex's good eye twitch. That one got him. Heh.

He stood above his axe.

"You gonna let Jon leave if we do this? He don't need to see what I'ma bout to do to you."

Real Human Being
Five days.

It was five days since now. Five days of nothing but pain, fuck ups, misery, and... not much else.

But this...

This moment?

Michael always had lived in the moment. The past was full of shit he didn't want to remember, and he usually had no idea what was happening next. You wanna know something funny? If the future was like anything happening now, then all that pain all that suffering. Hell, throw out the future for a second, let's just talk right now.

All that shit that happened, he'd go through it all again if he had a choice.

Honestly though, he wished this moment would never end. If time froze right here right now, for eternity? Michael wouldn't even be mad. Of course this moment had to end though, they all do. It's just whether or not they'll end now or later.

After all, good times never last.

And this one was no exception once a ghost spoke up.

The world stopped for Jonathan when he heard a voice shout to them. It was familiar, and it shouldn't have scared him.

But it did. Jonathan turned his head and realized why.

It was Alex Tarquin. Michael said he killed him. He saw his face, and thanks to some nasty flashbacks of Hostel, he could understand why he thought that.

They stood up, and it felt like Jonathan had to help Michael up. He could feel his arm, he was shaking. His eyes were wide and twitching, and it looked like his lips didn't know if they wanted to smile or grimace. He was whispering something under his breath.

"You're dead... I. Killed. You... I killed you!"

This was it then?! Are you fucking serious?! This bastard was still alive! He was still alive, and now he had all of his weapons on him! After everything that's happened to him, and this bastard didn't die?!

"Fuck off, hemorrhoid face! I'm not playing your bullshit, go find someone else who gives a shit!"

He's made you a fool, destroyed your face, and nearly took your life. Now he's after you again to finish the job.

"I give up fucker! You hear me?! I'm through! You wanna go around cutting people, fine! You leave me out of it!"

Then who's next? Jonathan?

"You turn the fuck around right now! I made Will run his puss-ass away, and I already killed you once! Two on one, and I won! Even with all that crap on you, you won't beat me asshole! I'll stay to finish the job this time if you don't leave!"

Naaah. This petty fuck... He knew what he was planning, he knew. He knew what the intentions were with that smug fucking yell of his. He was gonna try to take Jon first, to take everything away from him. Out of reflex, he pushed Jonathan behind him.

"I'll give you a chance to turn around, I really don't wanna deal with your kiddie shit right now! Just walk away!"

Jonathan could hear it in Michael's voice. He knew Michael. Michael would never let his fear show. He knew when he was scared. That wasn't what made Jon scared though. What scared Jon about it, was that Michael couldn't hide it in his voice. Tarquin did all of this to him, and Jon knew Michael couldn't pretend it was no big deal. He could tell it hurt him worse to realize that it wasn't over.

That even after they tried to leave the island behind, it came back for them.

Real Human Being
(( Jonathan Gulley and Michael Crowe continued from Nightcall ))

So this is what giving up felt like? To just say 'fuck it' and let the powers that be choose for them. To be honest it felt kinda nice. They didn't have to worry about when their time came, they didn't know. There wasn't this clock they had to rush to beat. They didn't have to fear their friends all dying, because they were already dead. They didn't have to fear their own deaths, because in a way they were already dead when they got here. With all of that worrying thrown away, it meant they just had time.

And with that time they spend the entire day traveling the island, just talking about what had happened, and what had happened before the island. They reminisced, talked about their hopes and dreams, and for once, they felt happy. It felt normal. It wasn't real normalcy, but as long as it felt like it, that was all that mattered, right?

It was late at night, and they were sitting on the docks.

"I still don't get how you came across almost every player on this island, and the only one who did anything was Alex..." Jonathan couldn't help but wonder how Michael managed to do that. The stories he told him sounded so fake, like the bullshit he used to make up back at Kingman to impress him. Jon knew he was lying most of the time, but he liked to humor him. What surprised Jonathan was that this time, he believed him.

"Well, they're all fuckin' wimps, man, back home I'd kick all their asses if they talked to me like that, 'specially Min Jae, fuckin' lil punk ass Onceler, lookin'...punk bitch." Jonathan laughed at the Onceler comparison.

"Remember back at the skatepark? That shit you wanted me to scream at him?" Jonathan looked towards Michael, waiting for his response.

"Oh yeah, I was like, 'Hey Jon, tell the Onceler to fuck off." Jonathan laughed, "Yeah, I remember I told you to do it." Michael laughed, then cupped his hands over his mouth, yelling into the ocean.

"HEY ONCELER! EAT SHIT! GO SING 'HOW BAD CAN I BE' SOMEWHERE ELSE, BEEEYYYYIIIIITCH!"

Jonathan giggled, hoping Min Jae wasn't slowly sneaking up behind them right now.

"Ow, that hurt like hell to do." Jonathan looked up to see Michael sticking his tongue through his cheek slash.

"Eww, stop doing that shit! That's friggen gross!"

Michael laughed, then slid his tongue faster, grinning as he watched Jon cringe. "I'm not kissing you if you keep doing that."

"Fuck, that shit was funny. Darius was there too, shit he was rolling around like a retard when I said it."

Jonathan shook his head, "Yeah, he was kind of an asshole, but he was our friend." Michael shrugged. "Yeah, 'course he's an asshole, but he was our asshole, like shit, a whole third of the Men's Hair Club is gone without him."

Jonathan tilted his head at the Men's Hair Club line. "The fuck?"

"What? Men's Hair Club. Coz' us three had the best haircuts out of everyone else." Jonathan's face curled in disgust, "I wasn't told of this name, I didn't vote for it!" "Yeah? Neither did Darius." "So wait, Darius didn't vote for it, and I didn't vote for it. Why's it our name?"

"You want Darius picking a name for us?" "No, I don't want a name in the first place!"

Michael tilted his head back. "Coooome ooon! It'll be like The Warriors!" Michael shifted around, as if he was looking for something. "Shit, I uhhh... I can't find any bottles. Damn, that means I can't do the reference. Fuck."

Jonathan watched Michael search around, before he decided to change the subject. There was something he's always wondered. "Michael, why do you style your hair like that. No offence, but it looks like a bird's planted it's ass on your head."

Michael looked legitimately offended. "You didn't seem to think I was bad at hair styling when I helped spike your hair!" Jonathan laughed. "Well, it didn't stop me from being afraid you were gonna turn me into Duran Duran or something!"

"Still, I like my hair. It's better than those stupid coffee hipsters with their fuckin' undercuts, curly mustaches and beards, and shit."

"But Michael, you are a hipster." Jonathan poked his tongue out. Michael stuttered, dumbfounded. "N-no I'm not! I fuckin' hate hipsters!"

Jonathan didn't stutter when he replied. "That's what every hipster says."

Michael tried to justify himself. "But they all look the same! I hate facial hair, and I hate coffee!"

Jonathan was winning this fight. "Every hipster thinks their different!"

"But I'm not a fuckin' hipster!" Was all Michael could whine, he was practically defeated at this point.

Jonathan forced his voice into a deep rasp, mimicking Hagrid. "You're a hipster, Mikey!"

"Stop it!"

"...Hipster."

"AAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII- God, you're fuckin' mean!"

"It's funny! My parents were afraid of you, they thought you were the mean one!" Jonathan giggled. Michael's fake rage disappeared. "Yeah, my parents were worried about me hanging with you too."

Jonathan looked up, raising an eyebrow. "Why's that?"

Jon saw Mike's grin come back. "They thought... They thought that you were gonna turn me gay."

Jonathan felt a grin curl up on his own lips. "You know... our parents are probably watching us right now... Wanna. Wanna piss them off?"

Michael didn't even get a chance to react before Jonathan planted a kiss on him.

Nightcall
((Jonathan Gulley and Michael Crowe continued from Let it Die ))

"Hold still-"

Jonathan winced as he pushed the needle through Michael's flesh, dragging the thread through it. "S-sorry! I'm almost done!"

"Dammit Jon, just gimme the needle and I'll do it myself!"

Jonathan pushed through the last spot of the cut, pulling the wire tight.

"You okay?"

"I've had worse." Michael gave Jon that same stupid fucking smile he did when he was guilty of something. Jonathan was glad he did though, even after what happened to him, that expression wasn't ruined from that slash moving all the way up it. It made it easier to recognize him.

"I can tell, how'd all of this happen. What was Alessio's problem, you know, when you threatened to hang him from the bell tower."

Michael looked to the sky for a moment, before buttoning up his blue aloha shirt. "Well... that wasn't a threat." Jon was taken aback, Michael wasn't seriously considering hunting him was he? "You aren't gonna tr-" Michael interrupted him. "Nah, I mean I already did it."

Jonathan stared blankly at Michael. "What?"

"I put him in a straight jacket and dangled him off a bell tower."

Jonathan just had to ask why, he felt he was about to go on a roller coaster with this one.

"Coz' he killed people. Me and Maria found him and we dangled him from the bell tower because he was a dick. He wasn't even remorseful for it then."

Jonathan had mixed feelings about this. On one hand he could understand why he did it, but at the same time, the reasoning behind why was escaping him.

"What happened next?"

Michael's lips curled together as he tried to think of a decent answer. He guessed putting it bluntly would explain it the easiest. "Audrey walked up and started bitching. Maria left and I just kinda flopped Al back inside the bell tower. Audrey got a little bit angry, so then I got a little bit angry. I figured I should have dropped Al though, to be honest, coz that was Maria's sword he was using in the pub. He prolly killed her. My mistake."

Jonathan had some trouble putting things together, the main thing was how Michael was so calm about it. Earlier he looked like he'd fall apart at the seams, and now he's okay-ish?

"Wait, what do you think happened to Maria? Why'd she leave? Was Audrey waving a gun?"

Michael shook his head, Jon was sure he heard a laugh, there was something sorrowful about it though. "Worse. She used the moral high ground. That shit killed more people than anything here. She walked up and bitched that we should give Al hugs and kisses or some shit and that it'd all be okay. I guess Maria bought it and left. I got fed up and gave her what she wanted. She valued the life of a killer? Fine, he gets to live."

"So wait, you let Alessio live, and he goes after Maria, then goes after you?"

"Yeah."

"You probably should have just dropped him-" Jonathan covered his mouth. Did he say that? It was so fast, he thought it was just a thought, but then he heard it, and felt it slip out. He couldn't believe he just said that. "I-I didn't mean that, it's jus- he almost killed you. I just find you, a-a-and you almos-"

Michael pulled Jonathan close. "Don't worry about it Jon, what happened happened, there's nothing we could've done to change it. Even back then had little choice."

"I'm sorry, it's just, Alvaro killed Barry and... I shouldn't have just stood there and watched. I tried to catch up, but I was frozen, I..."

"You tried your best Jon. That's all you could've done. It's all I've done, but unlike you I can't say I did it for the right reasons. I used this game... I used it to fulfill some shitty fantasies about being some super hero. All I can say I've done was piss off damn near every killer on the island, cept one. One of 'em can't be pissed anymore. He can't be anything."

Jonathan looked towards Michael, what was he saying?

"You remember Tarquin right? Paintball fight? I don't know. I think he made the same mistakes I did. He was the worst case of enforced method acting you'd see. He had the part down. He pretended that he was some big bad motherfucker who'd kill everyone and win. Only one kill versus all the Isabels and Alvaros out there, heh. For what it's worth, he had the part down. He's why I'm so goddamn ugly right now. The only thing that didn't work was the look in his eyes. That gave it away. You wanna know something funny?"

Jonathan looked at Michael wordlessly.

"Neither of us wanted to do it, I think. The only reason I'm here, and he's not, is because he hesitated just a bit longer. I dunno what that says about me. Some dumb kids trying to play pretend. I tried to be the hero, and it just didn't work. I tried though, I tried my hardest, and even that wasn't enough. Once you realize it doesn't matter, well, you can't go back. I saw it a long time ago, but I kept following it, I thought it'd change. It didn't."

It was then Jonathan understood what Michael was talking about. "You're saying we should give up, right?"

"If you want. The option's there, and maybe, maybe we'd feel better if we just stopped trying. I don't mean like, commit suicide but, whatever we do, I don't think we could change anything. Not alone anyways. We have this idea put into our heads that we could do anything, but it's wrong. That you could just give your life for the cause and everything would be okay for everyone else. Why's it gotta be us? Why can't someone else do it? Because it's our 'duty'? Duty to who? They don't give a shit about us, they never did."

Jonathan thought about it. What could he accomplish? All the effort he put in, and nothing changed except his friends died. All the effort Michael put in, and all he got were some scars and dead friends. They were all they had left. Whatever they did, it wouldn't matter, nothing would change.

"Jon, we don't have to keep doing this. We could go somewhere else, avoid everyone. If we're not gonna survive, at least we can live until then right?"

Jonathan thought about what Michael was telling him. He thought about Barry, and all he told him. He thought about everything everyone has died for. He realized that nothing more could've been done for them.

He's right, you know.

"Okay."

((Jonathan Gulley and Michael Crowe continued elsewhere.))

Let it Die
"Y- you what?"

That was it? All it took was getting back up? Well shit. Had this been a day earlier, Michael would've done some suicide blitz to beat Al's ass. He got a free hit in after all, he shouldn't get a pussy pass. From that sword he also probably killed Maria too. Hardee harr, you were right again!

But it wasn't a day earlier. Someone else got to play that justice game, Mike was through. Mike wasn't there when or if Maria got iced anyways. Only thing he coulda done to stop that was drop Al. If he did kill her, there'd be some irony to it, hell, it'd be pretty funny if it turned out Audrey died too. Not 'haha' funny, more like frog and the scorpion funny.

"Aight, I didn't drop you from the bell tower, you don't put that shit through my back when I turn to leave. We're square." He nodded to Jon, they were leaving.

Jonathan couldn't believe what he was seeing. Alessio just ran up, cut Mike, then backed away and told them to leave. Michael then mentioned some shit about the bell tower, what in the fuck did he do? Did they have some past grievance or something?

Jonathan felt angry. He was angry at Al for trying to kill them, and he was angry at Michael for nearly committing cop assisted suicide right there. He started putting pieces together, and realized that there was a chance a lot of Michael's injuries could've been avoided. He'd have to talk to him somewhere more private, he couldn't believe he was acting this dumb.

"Michael, you're lucky he didn't kill you!"

"Well... it's a good thing I was born with thick ski-"

*Slap*

"You're bleeding all over the place!"

"...Thick coat?"

Jonathan pinched his nose and grabbed Michael by the front of his jacket. They were going somewhere else, and Jonathan was gonna patch up Mike's cut. He couldn't understand how Michael acted. One minute he looked like he wished he'd never been born, and the next he was having a casual conversation with the douchebag who tried to kill him. Was he aware of how stupid he was?

"Let's go. We're going."

Jonathan practically dragged Michael by the arm out of the pub.

(( Jonathan Gulley and Michael Crowe continued elsewhere.))

V6 Ninth Rolls
Requesting a two to three day extension, just to be safe. Not sure if I'll need it, but I'd like to get it out just in case.

Let it Die
Michael put pressure on his side, trying to crawl back. This wasn't good. Al had Maria's sword, and they had nothing. Back away from Al, find something nearby, and get up. Fight one last time if you gotta. He bumped his elbow against his bag.

Wood.

Oh yeah, the table legs. The ones he got from this shithole actually. Damn, good timing.

He slid the bag towards the left, towards Jonathan. He nodded towards him before looking towards Alessio. He looked towards the closest table, pulling himself up with it.

Jonathan didn't understand why Alessio was backing away. He could attack them when they weren't looking at him, but now he seemed afraid, cautious.

Michael slid his bag to him, nodding like an idiot. What the hell was he supposed to do with this? It's a bag- oh. There's... What the hell is he supposed to do with these. Wait... Were they gonna have to kill him?

Jonathan was confused as hell. Michael was standing up, but he gave him the weapons? He watched Michael stand up, waiting behind the table. He gave him the weapons but- He just realized what Michael was planning.

No you idiot! Don't you dare do that shit to me!

"Come on motherfucker! That all you got?!"

Jonathan stared in disbelief at the absolute dumb-fuckery his boyfriend was attempting. Only one minute in after not seeing him in forever and he was trying to get himself killed!

Jonathan felt like he could do nothing but hope that whatever stupid idea Michael just thought of wouldn't kill him.

Let it Die
Michael looked up. First, he saw Maria's blade. Then he saw who was carrying it. Fucking Alessio. Al has Maria's blade, now how could that be?

Audrey you fucking idiot!

Al was running right towards them, Jon was between him and Al. Not now. This couldn't be happening now. After everything, he finally found what he was looking for, and this rat fuck wanted to take it away from him?! No, it ain't gonna end like this.

Jon was startled when he heard the footsteps coming up behind him. He tried to turn before the world decided to spin for him and toss him to the ground. He didn't know what happened. He had to look around before he realized what was up.

He found Michael laying on his side, red pouring down his jacket. No... Michael didn't. Michael had pushed Jon out of the way and took Alessio's sword to the hip.

Alessio was standing above him right now. Jon couldn't let him kill Michael like that.

He reached up the bar and grabbed a nearby bottle, chucking it at Al.

Let it Die
((Jonathan Gulley continued from Idiot Launch ))

Jonathan sat by one of the tables, his hands over his face. He didn't know what to do anymore. Hell, he didn't even know what he wanted to do. He still couldn't believe it. Brendan had lied to him twice, after he gave him the benefit of the doubt. He believed him, and he was just lied to again. For reasons he still couldn't guess, he forced himself to the pub.

Maybe. Maybe he thought that he could light the place on fire. He didn't care if rescue came, he just wanted this to end. How many of them were left? Probably less than half by now. Maybe only a quarter. Even if help came, they would be too late.Out of almost three hundred students, only thirty made it out that one game. Who'd make it out in this one? Six, seven?

There just wasn't much chance to it happening. The people rescued might even be the same people who kept appearing on the announcements, the ones killing everyone.

At least he could say he tried though. Maybe the smoke inhalation would get him before the fire would, or maybe the terrorists would be nice enough to blow his collar. Maybe.

He got up and moved towards the bar before the door opened behind him.

He saw someone he thought he'd never see again.

(( Michael Crowe continued from Lord of Lunatics ))

"J-Jon?"

Jonathan stared at him. There was no way he was real. He took a long look at Michael's face. He...didn't even look human anymore. Jon actually recoiled when he saw it. He looked like one of those nightmares you've had when you realize how much you could've messed up. He looked like a zombie, a husk. He forced himself to move closer. His hand reached up. He wanted to take those stupid sunglasses off. To just yank them off and throw them to the wall. Let me see you, damnit!

He grabbed them, and slowly pulled them off of Mike's face.

His eyes. His eyes were the same as they always were. They were the only things he could recognize, but it made it clear.

It was him. But it hurt.

It hurt to see him like this. To watch the whites of his eyes slowly turn pink. To see his torn lips start quivering. Michael broke down sobbing into his shoulder before Jonathan could even give him a single tear.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Wha-what happened to you? Who did this?" Jonathan looked Michael in the eyes. He wouldn't look away.

Michael had just wanted to go to the pub. Where it all started. He wanted to see what it was like before it all went wrong. How finding your friends turned into some stupid ploy for attention and glory. He didn't expect to find Jon there. Jonathan couldn't even look at him when he walked in. He was afraid of him. He... he shouldn't have come. He shouldn't have tried to find Jonathan. He couldn't look him in the eyes. All he felt was shame. He fucked up. Simple as that. He didn't deserve to see him again. Jon should have thrown bottles at him, told him to get out.

He'd have deserved that.

Instead Jonathan embraced him. He asked him what happened. Even now he still cared. Who really did this?

"I-I don't know. At first I thought it was Nancy, for starting this whole shit storm. Then Brendan for killing Jerry... Then everyone; everyone that didn't agree with me."

"It was me. I did this, a-and I'm done. It took me this long to realize it.

None of this matters. Nothin' I did would'a changed anything anyways."

Jon recognized what Michael was feeling. He didn't know what to say, but he knew to hold him tighter. They both messed up. Neither of them could have done anything right. Jonathan found himself crying. He found himself apologizing, it's all he could do.

In the pub, there were two failures who wrapped each other in an embrace. In all of five days, it was the only thing these two could have done right.

Lord of Lunatics
"HERE'S A LITTLE GIFT FROM ME TO YOU!"

Alex shot back, sparks shooting out of his skull as the shock-knife lodged in his left eye. Michael could do nothing but watch as he seized, then froze. Alex curled up, arms raised above him like a killed spider. Michael's shock knife slowly ticked out, as the crackling faded. The room got quiet fast. All Mike could focus on was that quietness, and the small portions of smoke wafting around Alex.

Michael stood up and reached in his coat pocket. He pulled out the severed finger that's been lying in there for four days now.

He looked down at Alex.

"R-remember when I said I'd make you taste hell?"

He looked down at the severed finger, before tossing it towards Alex's body.

"Well, here's your dessert, fucker..."

That was it then. It was petty. But it was what it was. All of that build up. All of that shit, hyping yourself up. And for what? Good job Hero! You did it! Victory! You are triumphant! This is supposed to feel good, right?

Right?

It didn't though. Not really. To be quite honest, he didn't really feel much right now, outside of the obvious.

Really though. What did he accomplish? Was he supposed to walk out that door, all his injuries would just melt away? Hell, barring that, would Darius, Jerry, Jon, and the rest of them just be standing there, congratulating him? Darius would probably say some weeaboo memeshit about the face-gash first thing. "Holy shit Mike, you look like Devilman hurrdehurr." And you know what? Mike would be fine with it. Why? Because some injury is better than all his friends being dead, right?

But that won't happen. Hell, at best, he's gonna walk back into Will. Smug ol' Will, with his big ol' gun. "I stole your kill fucker" would be the only thing he gave him, before the bastard blew his skull apart.

Really, did he feel like a hero? A winner? Maybe. He dangled an underclassman off a bell tower after binding and waterboarding him and used a girl as a human shield. That's pretty heroic right? He got the first person he met killed by being all theatrical and not just finishing the job. He spent five fucking days wandering around like an idiot, watching everyone die, pretending he was doing something productive, when he really wasn't.

Hey! You hear the story about the dumb-shit named Mike who thought he knew shit but really didn't know any fuckin' thing at all? Oh-hoho~ It's a good one!

That's really all there was to it.

It was all just kid shit.

Just some idiot kid playing pretend. Same way Alex was pretending he bought into that shit Danya preached about. Yeah motherfucker, I know, I saw you hesitate, I saw that look in your eye before I popped it right out... How long'd it take? Five fucking days to finally kill someone, only to realize you never actually wanted to do it?

You hesitated with Nancy, you could've caught up to Brendan, but you didn't. Coulda' swung at Jeremy, he was close enough. Woulda' been a double if you had the ambition to stomp Alex's skull in afterwords. If you really wanted Al dead, you wouldn't have dragged him from the asylum roof to the bell tower would you? You definitely wouldn't have done shit to the Dr. Seuss death squad in the church, at least you were aware you were bluffing then.

You coulda' did a lot of shit, but you didn't. Face it, you couldn't have done what you promised. Hell, it's only blind luck you got Alex. He hesitated just slightly longer than you. That's all it amounted too. You both knew you had to swing, and one of you just had to do it first.

How'd we get here? Me and you Alex? We just met playing paintball in an abandoned field. How'd we get to playing pretend in a game of death. Honest fucking question. What happened to us? How did we fuck up this bad? He wasn't even that bad of a dude. Sure, he could see Isabel coming from a mile away, and twitchy Alvaro was always on the brink of doing a pumped up kicks number, regardless of SOTF. But Alex? Nah. Alex was alright. He even asked if Michael was okay when he took that paintball in the nads, while Jon was apologizing his little heart out. If it were Darius he'd ask Jon to do it again because he wasn't recording.

So here he was. He was alive, Alex was dead. Nothing gained, a lot lost.

Michael didn't even bother to pick up any of the weapons on the ground as he limped out. He wasn't gonna use them anyways.

There was no point. It was all pointless. It didn't matter. Playtime's over.

It's time to grow up.

((Michael Crowe continued elsewhere))

Lord of Lunatics
"ah-hen, hnnnn, ah-heh ah-heh, haaa, mmm-hmmm-hmmm..."

Choked sobs escaped Michael as he moved to the door. He couldn- he couldn't die here! Not after everything that's happened! Not after all the shit he's been through! He-he had to get out of here! Let these fuckers tear each other apart.

Closer and closer he crawled to the door. He could slip out, unnoticed. He wasn't gonna die today. He got to he knees. He could stand. He could leave.

Will ran up behind him and talked a lot of shit. One quick stomp to the back and Mike was on the ground again. He grasped for Will's leg as he tried to leave, hoping to trip him, let him get killed, Alex was closing in! He's the one you want!

Will kicked free and sprinted off.

"Y-you coward! You rat fuck! Rea's suckin' cock in Hell right now!"

He turned on his back, Alex was making his way to him. He crawled backwards raising his free arm, pleading "Wait, wait, wait!" Alex got full view of Michael's new crocodile smile. His mouth now couldn't close all the way, the right side of his upper lip raised in a permanent sneer, his overbite apparent, there was a jagged line moving from his lip halfway up to his cheek.

"Look at yourself, hero." Alex moved closer. "All these avengers, and no one avenged."

He wasn't getting out of this. Alex was gonna kill him. He was this close to making it out, and Will used him as a scapegoat! Fucking rat, fuck fuck fuuuuuck!

"Please no! Oh, God, nooo-OOo-Oohoo..."

Alex raised his axe.

Michael screamed.

"Weakness and strength, Crowe; No other truths in this mad place."

One last ditch effort.

The crackle of his shock-knife burst through the air as he brought it up towards Alex's face. Michael was sure he saw Jon in the flashes as the room went from dark to light, dark to light. The blade shot fast. The blade pushed hard.

By the end of it, Michael wasn't the only one screaming.

Lord of Lunatics
Back and forth. Back and Forth.

He zapped the shit out of Alex.

"GET SOME! GET SOOOOME!"

He then zapped the shit out of Will.

"EAT IT! EAT IT YOU PRICKS! I'LL TAKE YOU ON! I'LL TAKE YOU ALL ON!"

He turned back to Alex, bringing his shock knife down on Alex's sword. The sword glowed. So did Alex. The room flashed it's black and white strobe. The sword, the shock knife, Alex, Michael's glasses... Each flashed black and white, black and white. Alex dropped like a sack of twitching bricks that were also probably shitting bricks.

Michael turned back to Will who wassprintingtowardshimwhatthe-

A boot went right into Michael's cock of justice. And no, it wasn't the shock knife he was talking about this time either. Michael felt the kick rise him off the ground. His feet were physically in the air. This motherfucker kicked him in the dick so hard he sent him into the fucking sky. No fucking way. Mike tazes the shit out of him, and he can do that.

Not long after that, a flurry of kicks and punches were his way, he didn't even know where the fuck he was for the moment. Will had the advantage. Will was worldstar'ing his ass.

Michael just barely got out by jabbing Will in the throat with the shock knife. Too bad it wasn't powerful enough to blow his collar, lucky bastard! He watched Will stumble back, coughing up a lung.

Michael slowly got back up from his hunched over state, right hand gripping his gripples. He couldn't let that shit slow him down. Not yet. A kick in the dick is a kick in the dick. He could take more.

Michael shook his head and straightened himself. He forced some more hype into himself.

"WOOOOOO! HIT ME AGAIN MOTHERFUCKER!"

Michael slapped himself in the face to taunt him.

"HIT ME IN MY FUCKIN' FACE YOU-

Then it hit him.

The axe first. Then reality. But they both hit pretty hard.

Michael only turned just in time to see Alex cackling and howling, waving his axe around like Christian Bale. That was HIS axe! Michael brought his arms up to shield him out of reflex. He didn't think to dodge, to duck, to juke.

He gasped, then felt metal on mouth. He was lifted off the floor again, feeling like a hooked fish. He felt wood smack against his left arm, his right feeling for air. The roof was the floor, and the floor the roof. His head smashed into water, legs above him. He rolled to his front, getting to his knees.

His shock knife still glowing landed right by him, sending jolts of electricity through his body. That wasn't the most painful thing that happened to him though.

Michael screamed, and as he did so, it felt as though the right side of his face would split open. He screamed louder. The pain got stronger. The shock ended as soon as it started, and Michael covered his mouth with his elbow, still shrieking. He looked at his arm, and what he saw instantly horrified him.

Blood, lots of it.

His adrenaline left his body as quick as the blood left his face. His left hand reached for the shock knife and gripped it. His right was still held over his face as he hissed in pain. He heard a slight whistle, and felt air blowing out the right side of his face as he did so. His tongue moved inside his mouth, feeling losened teeth. Some of the ones in the back wiggled, then fell out. They rolled out the side of his mouth and down his arm- wait what?!

He tried to lick his teeth, and ended up tasting his jacket instead. His tongue felt air in between. He felt pain on top and below it. He moved his tongue side to side. Felt his jacket, felt his arm, tasted his blood. He felt his lips, then couldn't press it any farther. Alex just sliced his fuckin' cheek open! He just got halfway Kakihara'd! If he didn't block, Alex would've turned him into a fucking pez dispenser!

Oh shit, oh shit oh fuck, shit this hurts, Jesus fuck!

This wasn't a game anymore. This wasn't a movie, he could die here. There was no asking 'What would Arnie do.' He wasn't Arnie. Arnie didn't lose. Michael could. In fact, he was. His 'invincibility' bullshit was gone. That power trip he had was gone. Whatever the hell burst of adrenaline he had just seconds ago; gone. He tried to get up, his feet shaking under him, muscles twitching. He started crawling, the arm holding his shock knife dragging him forward, the other cradling his fucked up face. He was emitting some half-laugh half-sob the entire time as he forced himself to keep moving.

He had to run. He had to see Jon again, but he had to avenge Darius and Larkin. He had to-

He had to make a decision.

He looked back and forth towards Will and Alex, then towards the door. The throbbing in his face matched the beat in his ears.

He had to make a decision.

He started crawling towards the door.

Lord of Lunatics
"THAT WAS FOR DARIUS, MOTHERFUCKER!"

There was something really fuckin' cathartic seein' Will scream like that. Dumb motherfucker shoulda' knew better, braggin' about killin' his best friend right in front of him. Well, he'd say they were square. Will killed Darius, Mike killed Will's family tree. Fair's fair.

There was one problem though. Even after a hit like that, Will didn't pay attention to him. His hand was still locked to Alex's. It was funny, they were like lovers, almost!

Michael had to separate them. Will was his!

Michael brought the shock knife down on Alex's arm, and watched him roll back. "Lay down and stay down fucker!"

His attention turned back to McKinl- AUGH!

A kick to the chin sent Michael stumbling to the ground. A sharp pain filled his mouth and he could taste blood. Michael was damn near certain he almost bit his tongue off.

Blood rolled down his chin, and Michael brought a hand up to feel where it was coming from. It was his lower lip, busted wide open.

He was all quiet now. It was game time. Will was getting back up with his gun, and Alex was crawling up with one BIG FUCKIN' SWORD...

Two on one, eh?

Michael got up himself.

The shock knife crackled to life again.

Let's dance.

"COOOOOOOOME OOOOOOOOOOON YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAH!!!"

Alex tried to bring down his trashy ass 'deus valt' final fantasy shit sword on him. Michael juked to the left, and gave him three more shocks in return. Gut, gut, chest, learn your place! He turned to Will, and sent three more shocks his way. Arm, armpit, shoulder, stay the fuck down!

He moved back to Alex. Shock shock shock, then back to Will.

Back and forth, back and forth. He was fighting with the spirit of two right now! Was Jerry with him?! This was for you, brother!

One, two, three!

One, two, three!

"THIS IS MY MOTHERFUCKIN' CAN OF SPINACH!"

Kzzt Kzzt Kzzt, turn.

" THIS IS MY SHINING FUCKIN' INVINCIBILITY STAR!"

Kzzt kzzt kzzt, turn.

"THIS IS MY GODDAMN ELECTRIC HELICOPTER COCK OF JUSTIIIIIIIIIIIIIICE, MOTHERFUCKERS!"

Michael's Lemongrab level screeches reached higher octaves than the pained protests of his combatants as he became a blur of electricity and ass-kickery.

In short? Motherfucker went ham.

Idiot Launch
((Posting because of low activity and to leave the thread.))

Jonathan sat and stared at Darius' corpse for what seemed like forever.

This happened because he left.

He left Barry, he left Darius, he left Clandice...


He... He left them all. He was the one who was gonna come up with some sort of escape? He couldn't even function on this island without someone else, and here he was, abandoning everyone, feeling the repercussions for it. He deserved it.

Announcements clicked in.

Alvaro and Nancy killed more people. New names were heard. Will Mckinley was the one who shot Darius...

That wasn't what got him though. Those two things were different.

One, Brendan had killed again. Not long after he left him alone again, and Brendan had killed again. Number two, was Taranis. She lit herself on fire or something to escape from the game.

This wasn't just on him anymore. Brendan promised him that he had the right intentions, that he'd help. He got scared over a body, yet he's somehow able to kill two people? Where was Alba when it happened? Did they split up, did she just watch him do it? It had to take a lot of force to push someone to kill them. Thoughts of Alvaro and Barry filled his head.

Brendan lied to him. That was that.

He trusted him, and he lied. He gave him a jacket, and some kind words before he left to kill someone. If he found him again, would he pretend to be innocent again? Would he just lie right to his face again? What if he knew who that girl was! What if she was Nancy, and Brendan knew! What if he did that, just so he could get Michael killed!

What if Jonathan actually gave his life like Tara, what if he lit the bar on fire so someone would see a signal? Who'd go home? People like Alvaro? People like Brendan? What would they do? Go on the Ellen show and cry, pretend they didn't have a choice?!

They had a choice. If they all worked together, they could've left, but they've made their bed. They deserve to be here.

No...

Jonathan knew his own flaws. He was a leech. He pretended to be a leader, but he wanted everyone to do the work for him. He deserved this as much as they did. He was lazy, if he cared enough, he could've did something. Barry didn't have to die. It should've been him. If Barry lived, the rest could've made it out, and all these atrocities? They wouldn't have happened.

It was too late for that though.

WE deserved to be here. WE deserved it for not caring enough. WE deserved it for not trying hard enough.

Jonathan gave up. He took Darius' jacket, and covered his corpse with it.

He walked outside.

Another atrocity. Junko was someone Jonathan would've called a friend. He remembered the anti-Sadie party. The one Darius' ruined. Jonathan wouldn't admit it, but it still was pretty funny.

Junko was beating into Jeremy, just wailing on him with the bat. Jonathan would've yelled at her. Demanded she stopped.

He didn't.

He looked away. He walked away.

((Jonathan Gulley continued elsewhere.))

V6 Ninth Rolls
Heroing Jonathan Gulley for Alessio Rigano.

Don't worry about death ideas, I've got something planned.

Edit: scratch that. I wanna hero Mike instead of Jon. Don't worry about death ideas, I've got stuff planned still.

Lord of Lunatics
Michael sprinted forwards, still screaming, still brandishing his taser. There's a moment where your body goes into autopilot, you simply start watching instead of speaking. If asked why it'd happen, Michael would tell you he wouldn't know, he wasn't a psych expert. There was one thing he did know. The mind could only bend so much before it snaps in two. This meant either one of two things. The 'autopilot' was either the symptom of snapping, or protection from it. It could be that catharsis needed to get his mind set straight, or it could be his mind was gone at this point. He didn't know. He'd know if he survived this.

Michael had one goal. Kill Will. Will had to die first. He didn't deserve to watch Alex die, not like he didn't deserve what was coming either, but Will didn't deserve closure. Michael would make sure of that. Will wouldn't be the one to kill Alex, and Alex wouldn't be the one to kill Will. Will dies first, then Alex. Michael closed the distance.

Will turned.

Will aimed.

Michael closed his eyes.

Will fired.

Will missed.

Michael opened his eyes. Alex tackled Will, he got him on the ground. Michael almost forgave him for lopping his pinkie off. Almost.

It was still the opening he needed though. There was one thing he wanted, and if Michael could give Will just an iota of pain that he had over the course of these five goddamn days, he'd be happy with it. Will was sprawled out on the ground, fighting Alex for the gun. There was the opening. Go for the groin.

Michael's voice cracked as the screaming ceased. He brought the knife up, the lights and sounds of electricity coursing through it filling the room.

He brought it down between Will's legs.

Lord of Lunatics
Michael peeked from the corner. Will was pointing his gun at Alex. Talkin' a bunch of shit, like he's the hero of this film or some shit, pompous asshole.Michael was the hero, not him! Not that coward bastard! Michael looked at his blade. It was a fake blade, but the tazer game on it was strong. He wouldn't be able to pull a Wolf Creek on that bastard, but he'd definitely get him to drop his pussy-pistol. Just another coward with a gun.

Alex was doing his 'nothin' personnel kid' speech or whatever the fuck it was. For once Michael was glad to hear that Xxedgel9rdxX shit, it meant Will was so focused on Alex's bullshit that he wouldn't see what's coming next.

*slosh slosh*

Michael crept closer, holding his shock knife low, keeping his body low. He had to think, he had to plan this out.

*slosh slosh*

Slowly he moved forwards, watching the two. This wasn't the time to think. All it took was one sentence to describe Mike's plan.

*slosh slosh*

Will dies first.

*slosh*

Michael sprinted towards them.

*slosh slosh slosh slosh slosh slosh slosh slosh slosh slosh slosh slosh slosh slosh slosh slosh splash splash splash splash splash splash splash splash splash splash splash splash*

*KZZZZT-VRRRRR-KRAKRAKRAKRAKRAK*

"CAAAAAAAHHHHMMMME OOOOOOONNN YEEEEEAAAAAAAAH!!!"

The room filled with the flashing strobe-like lights of Larkin's shock knife, and the ear-piercing screams of one pissed off greaser.

"rrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIUUUUUUUGGGGHHH!!!!!"