"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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Is in some state of existence
[ *  *  * ]
What?

She hadn't noticed the door open.

The imposing figure paused for a moment, as if scanning the room for something.

Will McKinley. Oh god. The best she knew, he was a complete arsehole and god help her if she needed that right now when she was just doing her best trying not to wallow in her own misery.

His name had been mentioned earlier hadn't it. She couldn't quite remember, but she was sure of it, somehow. Will Mckinley was a killer, even if she couldn't remember who he had killed. He was another one of them, another murderer on this tiny island that they had all found themselves stuck on.

But what was he doing here?

Was he looking for another victim? What was he going to do? She didn't want to know, but she couldn't run. Will was blocking the exit, and even if he wasn't, her legs weren't moving anymore.

What was she supposed to do?

He had a gun. She didn't. Her gun lay somewhere on the other side of the room, and she could almost hear it laughing at her for throwing it away. One moment of anger and now she found herself defenseless.

Will turned to her at last, their eyes locking for a single moment. She flinched first.

She was prepared for him to shoot. Or shout.

But instead, all he did was ask if she was okay.

"Huh?"

The tears started again.
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