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Viewing Single Post From: By the time you hear the next pop, the funk shall be within you
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“Fuck off, that was exactly what you said! ‘Try to outlast the other persons, until we’re the only ones left?’ Ring a fucking bell?!”

Clarice managed to get on her feet as Harold was talking. Harold was saying calm words. Calm, reasonable words. He wasn’t lashing out like she was. For a few moments, she’d thought… she’d thought it would be fine. Yeah, she was angry—because seriously, what the fuck? But she’d thought… she’d thought…

Didn’t matter what she’d thought, because it was wrong.

She’d run forward too late to stop Conrad. Just soon enough to grab Harold before he fell over.

Harold was a huge guy, even compared to her, and she would have struggled supporting him even under normal circumstances. It felt like she was tearing her shoulder open further as she tried. She gritted her teeth to stop herself from screaming, sweat pouring down her face.

She just managed to guide Harold to the padded wall, so he had something to lean against. He was leaking blood. Far worse than her shoulder, far worse than anything she’d seen, even been able to properly imagine. Fear swept through her. No, worse than fear, pure dread at what that meant.

Clarice turned back to Conrad. She shifted over, still bracing Harold with her good arm. Moving so that she was between Harold and Conrad. Like she should have done to start with.

“Back away, Conrad. Back the fuck away!” she snarled.
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By the time you hear the next pop, the funk shall be within you · Solitary Confinement