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Grim Wolf
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(Lizzie Luz continued from Thirteen Steps)

The question stuck with her. She couldn't shake it.

What did you do to live? What was the alternative, with a gun in your hand and a collar in your neck?

Killing was wrong. Unequivocally. With a guilty giggle, she found herself thinking of the Doctor. To resort to violence was a failure, wasn't it? But then, the Doctor still killed so many threats. Wasn't that what made him terrible? Wasn't that...

Focus. He's fiction. You're real. And you're really going to die, if...

She found her strange dizzy mania didn't quite fade as the day want on. As she drifted across the island, she thought, and thought, and feared, and laughed, and could not find an answer. When night began to fall, she did not try to find a bed: she found the most abandoned corner of an empty building, not too far from the gangling radio tower. She fished her rumpled brown coat from her bag, shoved it beneath her head, and slept a restless, dreaming sleep. A sleep filled with visions of blood and guns and the figure of the Doctor, talking madly.

She awoke only at the squeal of static. To the sound of the same merciless man who'd told them of their fate.

She listened drowsily, and felt the first stab of hurt as she heard the name of Jennifer Su. Poor girl. Lizzie remembered Tara standing on the edge of the cliff. Had it been like that? Had it-

"Florentina Luz found herself with a second smile when she ran into Isabel Ramirez in a bad mood; let's give a warm round of applause for the first person to bite the bullet and take someone else out."

She sat up all at once. Any trace of that strange mania vanished.

Tina? Artsy, grass-in-the-ass, quiet Tina, sneaking weed with Cris behind the compound? No. No, come on. That wasn't...no!

"Up next, Nancy Kyle took it upon herself to take an axe to Scarlett McAfee. Ten points for guessing what happens when hatchet meets human body."

The name hit her like a physical force, hammering into her ribs. She gasped audibly, clasped at her heart as though she could feel it breaking. Not Lettie. That wasn't possible. She hadn't even thought to look for her. Fuck, Lettie! Fuck, Cris! Are you okay? What are you gonna think, when you see...

And Nancy fucking Kyle? Anime weaboo dramabitch who had killed her fucking friend?

"In a fun little turn of events, Conrad Harrod got twitchy and in short order Harold Porter got opened up. Harold didn't hold on for much longer than that, and bled out."

For shit's sake, no! Harold, soft-spoken and determined? Face-to-face with the horrors of the world and standing by his friend, refusing to run? More noble than she'd known was possible? So noble she couldn't resist-

"Alex Tarquin got on the board when he went Rambo and slashed a piece out of Rea Adams. Nice form, Mr Tarquin."

Slashed a piece out of Rea? How? With her sword? With the sword she'd given to him, because he'd talked so big and dreamed so large and she'd wanted to believe there could be Doctors?

Lovely Lettie, learning Spanish from her and kissing Cris on the sly. Tina, always watching. Alex, who'd seemed larger than life until he killed. Harold, who was larger than life, 'til he got killed.

It was all too much, all at once. So many people she'd known dead. Another she'd known, turned to killer. Fuck, had Astrid been right? Were they all gonna...were they...?

She sank back into her corner, pulled her legs tight against her chest, and started to sob, angry and grieving and daunted all at once. Crying because she felt so wronged, and so powerless to make anything right.
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V6 Players

Tara Behzad: "They don't get to decide how I die."

Lizzie Luz: "I don't want to go."

Alex Tarquin: "No more masks."

V5 Players

V4 Players
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