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Viewing Single Post From: Lord of Lunatics
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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?


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))
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Lord of Lunatics · Water Treatment