"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Privyet
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Survivor
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((Matt Moradi continued from here.))

Matt was lost. Not in the literal sense, like he didn't have an idea of where he was - he guessed he was just sort of lost in general. He just had no idea what to fucking do, because Jerry had killed another person. Travis. The guy he'd been looking for, at least up until yesterday. Dead.

Shot him. Must've been at least.. 8 times. However many bullets that gun had in it. He saw it all. He'd been trailing behind Trav and Cass, the same way a hyena trails behind a lion - waiting to swoop in and pick up the scraps when the real predator had finished. He stood there, staring. Trav was dead. Jerry was finished. Done. It was time for him to come in.

He started walking forward, even though he didn't think that this could end well. Slowly, he approached Jerry, a look of.. nonchalance, mostly, on his face. Trav was dead, deader than dead. Sure, it was regrettable he had to die, but a lot of people were going to have to die. Who was he to complain about that? To him, anyone who tried to play the "hero" just wasn't that smart. It wasn't right to revel in murder, sure, but the nature of the game was killing.

So who was he to complain? If anything, he should feel glad. That was how he justified it. That was how he stopped himself from thinking too much on it.

"Jerry, uh.." Had to play pragmatic. Be the voice of reason. "That was loud. We gotta get out of here."
Edited by Privyet, Apr 21 2017, 02:07 PM.
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