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Introduction Thread
Ehh, stayed more towards the the Stalker Chadow of Chernobyl servers (Never played on Taco N Banana servers tho, the admins there were very circlejerky.)

A quick warning for you tho.

Everyone here is really cool people, and SOTF's storyline is great!

(Idk why that's a warning but eh, w/er)

Introduction Thread
Oh shit! Someone else from serious gmod rp? Damn that's cool.

What's your preffered rp?

Stalker, Metro, Hl2, or Fallout?

70's Horror Movies III: Swooooooooord Caaaaaaaaaaane
Maybe I shouldn't have worn the mask before running inside.

That was what Jon was thinking a kick to his knee sent him to the floor.

Maybe I shouldn't have even walked in here.

That was what Jon was thinking when someone shined a flashlight on the both of them.

Oh shit...

That was what Jon thought when he realized the girl was covered in blood and carrying a severed head of some girl around.

Oh shit!

That was his thought when the girl swung the head at him.

The world turned into pink and black stars again as Jon reeled back from the hit. The 1/8th of a cadaver's teeth collided down at Jon's eyebrow and nose through his mask.

He rolled onto his front, his face shielded by his hands, his screaming muffled.

Holy shit, she's out of her mind! What the fuck?!

That was what Jon screamed internally after getting wailed on by a human skull.

70's Horror Movies III: Swooooooooord Caaaaaaaaaaane
(( Jonathan Gulley continued from Say You're One Of Them ))

Jon spent most of the afternoon patching himself up. He had bandaged his face, removed the three hanging fingernails on his left hand and bandaged it all up as well.

It was late at night now, and he just needed a place to rest. Maybe tomorrow that perpetual state of vertigo will leave, or maybe it's a sign he won't even wake up. Who knows anymore?

He decided the cafeteria was as good a place as any to hold out.

He carried the machete and toilet seat as he moved closer to the door.

He really needed to find a better way to hold these things.

He decided this place was as good as any before someone inside let out a scream.

Jon should turn around, but... after all of this he couldn't bring himself to. Maybe he could still help someone, maybe.

He put on the nixon mask, and bolted into the room.

Say You're One of Them
"N-no, it's fine. I'll go myself." Jon slowly walked towards the two bodies that lay in front of him, his eyes trailed on them.

"Everything is... kind of messed up, and I just need time to think. I did just fine bandaging one of my friends when he got hurt, I-I think I'll do alright." You didn't mention someone else came and killed him later that night.

"I just need a night to think, maybe tomorrow I'll get a good idea of what I'll do."

He looked Will first, and the gun near his body. He'd need that if he even wanted to see tomorrow.

He knelt down and grabbed it, rifing through Will's bag like there wasn't someone behind him watching. "Had it coming" he muttered under his breath, but he wasn't sure if it was Will or Darius at that point. Maybe Darius tried to play, and his dumb ass got himself killed. Maybe Will just thought he could get away with it, because nobody would miss him, obviously. Jon didn't know, and the only people who did weren't here. Maybe they both did, or neither of them did. Jon didn't know.

Jon pocketed the ammo too as he turned towards the real reason he was here.

He KNEW Alex deserved it. He hobbled over to the body, and almost went for the axe. He realized he never wanted to see it again, considering what it's story was. What it was used for. To Jon, the damn thing was cursed. He went for the machete still lodged in Alex, placing his foot on the corpse for leverage, he tugged it out.

"You're the real coward... I hope it all still hurts wherever you go." He spat on him.

He couldn't stay here anymore. Any longer and what little of his mind he had would be gone. He needed to breath.

He stormed over to the seat and mask he dropped, and walked out.

(( Jonathan Gulley Continued Elsewhere))

Say You're One of Them
Jon tried to sit up, but he was nearly overcome with nausea as he tried. If he had actually eaten anything in the last few days, he probably would have puked already. He clutched his throbbing skull, blood seeping through his fingertips as he tried to remember what it felt like to be alive.


Was this what being alive felt like? Wasn't this. That vision he saw. He saw the other side and that felt more like being alive than now. Being alive was... last night, before Alex. It was the one time he was alive since he'd been on his island.

Now... Now he wasn't. But he wasn't dead either, that would've worked out too well. It was an inbetween. Some sort of fucked up purgatory.

He looked towards Amanda, she was... pretty pissed about him-

Aw shit.


Everyone's pretty much bailed on him except for Michael. Michael was dead, now. Nobody's actually stayed with him or really cared about him, and the first person who did, he blamed them for his problems. Amanda was one of the only people who actually showed some form of care for him. Not the 'pretend I'm sorry' care that Brendan did.

"I- I'm sorry... I thought..."

He really didn't know what he was thinking... There were still good people here. It wasn't over yet. Not even halfway over really.

"Everyone I cared about is dead... Now the people who killed them are too... I just- I just don't know what's left I can do."

He tried to stand up, his peripheral vision breaking into pink and black stars, his balance distorted by the forced 'tunnel vision' he was experiencing.

"I just thought I deserved some rest too... Everyone else I knew got it."

Say You're One of Them
"So this is it then, isn't it?"

He looked the spectre in the eyes.

"It's over, isn't it? I'm finished, otherwise I wouldn't be seeing you right now..."

Michael looked towards the ground, as if thinking of something to say, his lip quivered.

"In a way yeah... It don't gotta be though, you coul-"

"Don't. I don't want to. I won't go back, there's nothing there for me."

"Jon that ain't up to me, I c- I can't ju-"

"Well, you had a choice to leave me when Alex showed up! Now, I choose to go too! I can't go back! Y-you can't leave me again!"

He grabbed Michael's collar, before he stepped back pushing Jon off of him.

"Goddamnit I never fuckin' left you! I'm here now ain't I?"

Jonathan rebutted.

"How do I even know you're real, huh? What if you're just some dream, what if it's not really you? What if you're gone, nothing afterwords and I never get to see you again?! You threw away your life to protect me?! Well good job, now I'm here too!"

"It wasn't my fuckin' choice! I never had a choice! There was no way I was getting out of it without one of us getting killed, Jon! I tried, I tried my fuckin' best, and it didn't matter!"

"And you think I didn't try?! What was I supposed to do, just find a corner and wait it all out!? Help isn't coming... It never was, people don't care about us, the people here don't even care about themselves! We never had a chance! I didn't have a choice either!"

A bright light clicked on behind Michael, turning him into just another silhouette.

"I came to tell you that you have a choice now. I know I told you to give up... but, you could do more Jon, you're stronger than you think you are."

He turned to walk into the light. Jon called out, running to him.

"W-wait! Don't leave me!"

He caught up, grabbing Michael by the hand.

"The other choice! What was it?"

Michael tilted his head towards the bright spot in the darkness.

"I won't blame you if you choose the other one. I'd understand why... It's my fuckup that we're here anyways."

"Could I go with you? I... I don't want to be alone anymore."

Michael held Jon's hands and looked into his eyes.

"Are you sure you want this?"

"I-I'm sure... There's nothing left for me here."

The two held each other close as they walked towards the opening.

"I'm... I'm sorry I got you into this. I never meant to hurt you."

Jon could see the tears falling from Michael's eyes.

"It wasn-... You didn't mean it. I-it wasn't you fault, it's okay. Only one of us could make it home anyways. I'd rather be here than there anyways. This was the best way it could've turned out for us. L-let's just go."

The two took the time to make one last hug before they moved on.

Jon wasn't afraid anymore. He didn't regret his choice, and he knew he wouldn't later on.

It was over, it was all finally over.

B040- Jonathan Gulley- Eliminated

"Are you okay?"

Jon's eyes opened, he gasped, then took a deep breath. He looked around, that familiar scent of rust filled his nostrils.

He was back in the store room, and Amanda was staring right at him.

It was right there... He was so close... It was over- he was done!

Alex got to die, Will got to die! Why was he still here?! Why was he still alive?!

It wasn't fair! T-this wasn't fair!


He finally had some closure, some peace... and it was all taken away from him yet again.

"Why'd... Why didn't you let me die?"

Say You're One of Them
The world melted around him, warping, changing. Bright stars were filling his vision, as little pinpricks started moving their way up his skin.

He blinked once.

He blinked twice.

On the third time he woke up.

He felt the familiar wood of the Desert Plains Skate Park half pipe on his back. He looked up and saw stars everywhere, it was a pretty night. Someone must've had a radio nearby, he was hearing Handlebars by Flobots playing from somewhere.

He had no idea how he got here.

"Hey. You okay?"

Jon knew exactly who's voice he heard.

(( Michael Crowe continued from Real Human Being ))

"You look like you had some sort of fucked up nightmare man, everything good?"

A nightmare? T-that's all this was? Just some fucked up nightmare...

"Y-yeah, it... it wasn't good."

He moved in close and hugged him. He leaned back to look him in the eyes.

The scar. That axe-forced grin. All the blood...

It was still there. The memories of what happened were flooding back to him.

"Jon, I got some bad news for you."


Say You're One of Them
So close... Almost there.

Laughing. Laughing behind you. Was he getting back up? No... No! Not now, not when you was this close! Get up.

Get up!

He crawled onward, so close, yet so far. "I was wrong!" Shit... What? "Avengers...in earnest!"

What in the fuck was he talking about? Jon turned around to look. He wasn't getting up.

"Even...in death, you..."

"No more...masks..."

"No...see? This is...who we always..."

"That's...the game. Take off...the mask, and..."

Jonathan grabbed the seat, and wiped the blood from his eyes. Alex wasn't going anywhere. He had to get in the last word. The last laugh. That's all it was.

"And see...who's strong, and who's..."


He pulled himself up, using the shelf as leverage as he dragged himself towards Alex. Each step hurt. Each breath hurt. Each thought hurt.

"Survival...of the..."

Jon fell to the floor, forcing himself to crawl the rest of the way. He grabbed onto the edge of the shelf again, standing himself up. Don't you fucking dare die just yet, you bastard. Don't you...

Alex was dead.

Will was close to dying.

You were close to dying...

Jon dropped the seat and collapsed onto the ground, staring at the ceiling.

The world kept spinning, bright shapes were appearing in and out of his vision. It was...funny really, it was like going to the dentist.

It was all so... pointless, Michael was right about it. None of it mattered, none of them would make it home anyways. Pointless, so fucking pointless.

He watched the room melt away around him.

All of his friends were dead, and all the people who killed his friends were dead, or dying right here with him, right here in this room. Funny how that worked out, huh? He felt himself crack a smile at that thought, that these people wouldn't get away with what they did, and Jon helped it happen.

He walked in ready to die anyways. What did he have to live for anyways? Did it even matter if you were successful or not? Make sure Alex died for what he did to Michael, what he did to you? Darius' voice spoke up inside Jon's head, yelling "AW YEAH THERE WE GO, APC DESTROYED MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!"

Yeah, mission accomplished.

It was fucked up, but he felt himself smile like a fool.

Say You're One of Them
It was like watching a movie almost.

Jon could see it all happen in... third person, it felt like. He couldn't feel it, but he could see every hit. He could hear every smack against the ground, every drop of blood flying this way and that.

He reached up feebly, trying to grab at Alex's face, trying to get him to stop. Alex bit down on his hand, yanking back and forth like a rabid dog. His head reeled back and the glove was torn from Jon's hand, which fell limply by him. He took a good long look, and realized what that searing pain was when Alex dragged him back and forth. He tore his own nails out trying to grab the shelf, they stood out in odd angles, red leaking from his finger tip- another smash interrupted his train of thought.

He was forced to look at Alex one last time. He saw his hands open up, his thumbs reel back. He knew what Alex was going to do with those thumbs. That freak made sure his fucked up face would be the last thing he saw, and Jon knew it. He closed his eyes, not like it would help.

Screaming filled the room.

This was it, this was what dying felt like.

It only took seconds later to realize that it wasn't Jon screaming.

Alex had a machete rammed just under his ribs and he was the one screaming, grasping at the blade. The blade twisted and Alex screamed even louder.

This was his chance.

Me or him. Him or me. Alex HAS TO die today...

He brought his hand toward's Alex's face, towards the burnt scar tissue that covered half of it. He scraped down, his fingers catching on something soft and sticky. His head reeled back again. Itdidn't catch.

It did cause him to lean back however, giving him just enough room to crawl out from under him.

"Fuck you, you toothless cyclops creep!"

Alex stood up, machete still hanging through him. He brought his leg up and kicked Alex where he could in the situation, between his legs. With an audible pop, Alex leaned over, his knees buckling. A head crushed for another head crushed you bastard. He looked behind him, and saw the toilet seat. He rolled to his front and started crawling towards it.

So close, but so far. He forced himself to his feet, the world spinning, his peripheral vision turning into black and pink stars as he felt nausea come over him. It felt like he was staring down a tube, he couldn't see anything around him, just things in front of him.

He fell to the ground again and continued crawling. He was just a little over a foot away now.

This was it, it was almost over now.

Say You're One of Them
Jon's breathing increased rapidly. Alex started talking, even with most of his front teeth gone he was still talking, blaming, pretending it was his fault Michael was dead.

T-that he had the audacity to pretend he was the one responsible, that he hunted him and killed him after all he did and it was his fault. Jonathan felt himself growl, he had never thought he could do that, let alone the fact it wasn't intentional, it just happened.

He lurched back, ready to knock the rest of Alex's teeth out.

Me or him. Him or me. One of us has to die today...

Alex used his height to his advantage, pulling the seat down, away from him. The force knocked Jon back, he tried to catch his footing. He almost caught his footing, but Alex took his breath the very next moment.

He felt the shelf jab into his back, an uncomfortable pop followed it. He didn't get a chance to groan in protest before his feet were off the ground again.

This time he landed face first into the opposite shelf. He tried to grab onto the grooves in the shelf to hold him down, but the squeaky protests of leather and something cracking was all that he heard as he was dragged back again, his fingertips on fire.

His back smashed into the opposite shelf, and he had enough time to swing at Alex. He punched and kicked. It didn't work, and he felt the gravity betray him as the world turned upside down. He reached out and grabbed onto Alex's hair, pulling it as he crashed into the ground below.

He could remember crashing his skateboard and getting up off the ground for one more trick. He looked at the lock of blonde hair in his hand and made a stupid laugh for the situation. As he tried to get up he remembered Courage The Cowardly Dog, and the way he laughed when he got hurt. It was nostalgic, peaceful even if it was unusual to think of now. Memories distracted him from the pain.

They also distracted him from Alex. It wasn't but a second later that reality came back, and a hand smacked across one side of his head, the other side hitting the wall. He couldn't hear momentarily, his ears were ringing.

The wall came back again. And again, and again, and again, and again, again, again, and again.

He grabbed Alex's arm, his face, he clawed, he punched, he thrashed, he screamed. None of it worked.

He was slammed again and again, his body not wanting to work anymore.

This was it.

Me or him. Him or me. I had to die today...

The mask stuck to his face like glue, he couldn't see, his eyes were stinging when blood poured into them. His skull throbbed, and Alex just kept smashing him.

The sticky cocoon left his face and the beatings stopped. Alex stared at him, Jon knew Alex wanted to hear him brag one last time before it was over. Jon didn't hear what he had to say, he screamed over him.

"S...s-shut up and do it already!"

He hit the wall again and the world turned into bright splashes of color.

Say You're One of Them



((Jonathan Gulley continued from Either Thou or I, or Both, Must Go With Him ))

Wordlessly he swung.

Again and again. The only sounds he made were the whacks of the toilet seat and the muffled breathing under his mask. Jon wouldn't relent.

He didn't care if Alex begged, screamed, or cried. He had to kill him.

Me or him. Him or me. One of us has to die today.

He swung again and Alex ducked, the seat bouncing off the wall. He lurched forwards, pushing against Jon's midsection and forcing him into the wall. Jon raised the toilet seat and swung down on Alex's head and neck until he relented.

Alex lurched back, and swung his machete down at Jon. He raised the toilet seat, the middle of it catching the blade, stopping it from splitting his skull open. He pushed back and swung, Alex swung too.

The first slash moved across his midsection, and if it weren't for Michael's jacket, Jon's insides would be outside. Jon swung upward in retaliation, and felt a sharp pain move up his side to his arm as Alex swung again, harder this time, cutting through Mike's jacket, Brendan's hoodie, and Jon's skin.

Jon stumbled to the left, and felt another slash go down his back. Muffled screaming came from the Nixon mask as he turned around swinging towards Alex blindly.

He didn't care if Alex slashed, tore, and carved him up. He had to kill him.

Me or him. Him or me. One of us has to die today.

He rushed towards Alex, swinging the toilet seat blindly. Alex swung back, slower, but better aimed. Jonathan had no skill in fighting whatsoever, his only advantage was hitting him from behind.

Alex had experience, reach, strength, and weapons. In any other scenario Jonathan wouldn't stand a chance.

He still didn't stand a chance.

Slash after slash, Jon felt the stings, not as bad as the first, but much worse than any scrape he's had on a skateboard. He got lucky once. Alex swung horizontally, Jon swung vertically.

The machete hit the floor, and Jon raised the toilet seat again. He aimed for the mouth.

Alex's head twisted to the side, red coming from the mouth. A sound not unlike skittles spilling from the bag onto the tiles came next.

Words finally came from the Nixon mask in barely coherent screams.

"Say his fucking name! You hunted him! You tortured him! You murdered him!"

He swung again. Alex could only block with his arms now, with the occasional punch towards his direction. Jon kept moving forward, Alex kept moving back. He swung again.

"Say his name! I want to hear you say it!"


"You hunted him!"


"You tortured him!"


"You murdered him!"

Alex's back hit the wall.

Jon moved up raising the seat.

"I want to hear you-"

He swung.

"Say! His! Name!"

Alex caught the seat. The world stopped.

Alex. Caught. The. Seat.

Jon's eyes widened, he gasped under the mask.

Me or him. Him or me. One of us has to die today...

Either Thou or I, or Both, Must Go With Him
(( Jonathan Gulley continued from A Plague on Both Your Houses ))

Jonathan shook as he opened the doors to the hunting cabin. He still couldn't believe what happened.

...And he still couldn't believe what was going to happen.

Was he really doing this? Well, he made his way to the hunting cabin, and what was the alternative? He couldn't save anyone, and he... he couldn't bring himself to end it with more direct means. That left one option. He was going to die anyways, just like Michael.

He might as well go out like Michael too...

He was at the hunting cabin. There should be something here. Some sort of weapon. Something better than these flimsy fucking table legs. He moved through the lower level, opening various drawers and counters. There wasn't nothing here. Maybe upstairs?

He slowly creeped upstairs when a horrid stench filled his nostrils. He knew all too well what it was, but something about it was worse. He didn't want to see it just yet. He turned to the room across from where the stench came from and searched it first. He pulled open counters and shelves again, pulling out nothing but clothes. Nothing there interested him, except a pair of brown driving gloves. He pocketed them for the moment.

He checked the bathrooms and found nothing of use either.


He grabbed one of the table legs and tapped it against the toilet seat.

It was old, and dirty, but it looked like it was in decent condition. He was about to see if he could pry it from the latch before realizing Hey! Wait a minute, I'm about to touch an old toilet seat, what is wrong with me? He put on the driving gloves first. He raised the seat, and realized it was somewhat loose, he could move it side to side. He'd have to remove the lid first, but then after it shouldn't be a problem. He gagged at the underside of the seat, he wasn't sure if that was rust... or something else. He took one of the table legs and scraped at it in vain.

At least he had gloves.

It took some work but the seat was his. He tossed the table legs to the side before mustering the courage to check the room with the smell.

One thing he noticed was the red stain under the sheet. He thought of the people he covered. He decided not to check underneath the yellow white visor. He realized he didn't cover Mike...

He saw something at the foot of the bed. A mask. He knelt by it, picking it up.

He was really gonna do this wasn't he? He knew it didn't matter. Nothing he did would've mattered. Yet he was still going to do this? Why? Maybe he just wanted to feel like he was doing something.

He put on the mask and breathed in and out. He... kind of liked the sound it made. It reminded him of the Myers-vision sequences in Halloween. It was... kind of immature to be dorking out over a Nixon mask, but... Well, he liked it. He decided he'd keep it.

He pulled Brendan's hood up over the mask, before popping the collar on Michael's jacket. He observed himself in the mirror.

He looked like some sort of low-budget Purge villain, to be honest. This outfit was fucking stupid, he'd say. He didn't say it though, he kept wearing it. He had to ask himself though, did he snap.

Was this what going crazy felt like? It couldn't be though, he didn't necessarily want to do it. But he was here, doing it anyways. He... wasn't losing his mind, he was just changing his tactics.

All he wanted was closure. He didn't want to win, and he didn't want to kill everyone on this island.

But he did want some closure for what happened to him, to his friends, to the one he loved. But it didn't matter though. It'd all amount to the same if he did or didn't do it.

But he wanted to. It was that simple. He wanted to, and that want was inching ever closer to a need.

He slowly walked down the stairs, slapping the toilet seat against the wall as he made his way to the exit.




(( Jonathan Gulley continued elsewhere ))

A Plague on Both Your Houses
(( Jonathan Gulley continued from Real Human Being ))

Jonathan didn't make it too far into the woods before he felt exhaustion come over him. He didn't really want to go much farther anyways, he was afraid that there was a chance he or Mike wouldn't have made it to the vehicle depot. He didn't want another situation like Darius.

He moved off the path and ducked behind a group of trees. He knelt down behind them, waiting.

He closed his eyes and breathed in.

He didn't get a chance to dream before something woke him up. It was odd, night was still there, but he didn't feel too tired. His ears picked up something moving, it moved faster, closer towards him.

He turned his head to look.


(( Michael Crowe continued from Real Human Being ))

"I-I fuckin' did it! It's over!"

Jonathan couldn't believe it, h-he was actually okay! He looked at Michael.

He was covered in blood, but outside of that, he didn't look worse than... he did before the fight. He was grinning like an idiot, and it felt wrong to say it with the implications involved, but Jonathan was glad.

Michael moved up and sat down beside him, panting. "Alex- Alex won't be bothering us anymore..." He laughed, there was a hint of sorrow in it. "It's over."

Jonathan wrapped his arms around him. It was him, everything felt real. "Jesus, y-you idiot! I thought I'd never see you again!"

"I told you I'd never leave you. Not for anything in the world. Nothing's gonna come between us without me knocking it down, you feel me? I promised you, didn't I?"

Michael wrapped his arms around Jon and held him.

"It's over. Nothin's gonna hurt you now. I solved the problem for us."

Jonathan held Michael's hand. It was over now, wasn't it. They had all the time in the world. Even if he knew that they'd die, at least it would be together, they wouldn't go alone.

"You're strong Jon. No matter what happens to me, I know you can do it. I won't ever leave you, but you gotta promise me, you gotta stay strong. I might not ever get the chance to ask you this again. I promise I'll always be with you, but promise me you'll stay strong."

He questioned why Michael told him this of everything.

He never questioned why Mike still had five fingers instead of four.

The sounds of the announcements sent Jonathan a shock as he woke up. He was still there, curled under the tree, Michael's jacket wrapped around him like a blanket.

He looked around. Where'd Michael go? Maybe, maybe's he just gone to get them some water or something. Wait, they already had water though. Maybe he had to use the restroom, or he went back to the docks for some weapons. Maybe...

Jonathan listened to the announcements.

Apparently Jeremy shot Junko while she was bludgeoning him. He... He didn't know how to feel about that. Maybe he could've stopped it if he didn't walk away.

Nancy and Alvaro were dead. Jon hated to say it, but he felt some relief from that. At least Jeremiah and Barry could rest now, right? Maybe.

The next one didn't surprise Jonathan. He was expecting it. A wave of relief washed over him as he heard it.

"We're into the home stretch now and it looks like we have a duel, a one-on-one fight to finish, two men entering and one leaving, you get the idea. To cut to the chase, Michael Crowe and Alex Tarquin had a fight and Michael...

It was over. He felt a smile forming.



No. Wait.... How.

B-but... this has to be a joke, h-he saw him, alive! He saw him! He. Saw. Him.

Jonathan's breathing became erratic, he grabbed Michael's jacket, and ran back to the docks.

There he was. That bright blue shirt with the grey and teal flowers. Those ugly sneakers. That goofy fucking haircut that sat on top of a goofy fucking smile...

Blue. Red.

Lots of blue and red.

Jonathan ran closer.

"It's over."

Can't be. Won't be.

"Nothin's gonna hurt you now."

This can't be happening!

"I solved the problem for us."

You lied! You bastard you lied! Y-you... you didn't. You shouldn't have...

He dropped to his knees by the red-stained corpse laying in the fetal position.

"I told you I'd never leave you."

Why? We should have ran off the docks. Y-you...

"This was your way of solving the problem?! Y-y-you get yourself killed over some stupid drama-whore! You- h-how; Why?!"

It was over. It was all over... He didn't even get to hear him say goodbye- he didn't even get the chance to! Why?

Alex... this was... no, no, no, Brendan... He did this. He caused it by killing Jeremiah Larkin. He lied to you, Jon. Then he left and killed again. Michael couldn't take it when Jerry died. It messed him up. He tried to get revenge, then Alex tried to get reven-

It was both of them.

They did this. Alex wanted to be some sort of monster, and Brendan was just in it for himself.

He lied to you, Jon.

He made you think you could trust him, that he'd help you. He held you back, he did it all on purpose.

Michael got caught up in this because of Brendan, and now he's dead because of Alex.

Now what?

It was okay to give up, right? That's what Michael told you to do...

But he didn't. Even after he said he was through, he had to do some stupid machismo shit and get himself killed. H-he should ha-

Michael didn't give up, he fell back into the island, and the island took him.

Jon had nothing left, he wanted to be with him. But if he gave up...

Michael gave him his jacket.

He knew what was about to happen to him. He did this for you.

Jonathan put on the jacket.

Michael went back to his old roots, and it killed him.

Jon knew the same would happen to him if he tried the same.

So he wouldn't try the same, but he wouldn't give up.

He couldn't save anyone, he knew that now.

But maybe...

Maybe there was something else he could do.

(( Jonathan Gulley continued elsewhere))

New General SOTF Discussion Thread
I haven't met any group of people as cool as you guys, tbh. This was probably the best RP I've joined, well, no, definitely the best RP I've ever joined. This is the only roleplay group that's ever put me through a fucking feels trip like this.