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((Jonathan Gulley continued from Either Thou or I, or Both, Must Go With Him ))

Wordlessly he swung.

Again and again. The only sounds he made were the whacks of the toilet seat and the muffled breathing under his mask. Jon wouldn't relent.

He didn't care if Alex begged, screamed, or cried. He had to kill him.

Me or him. Him or me. One of us has to die today.

He swung again and Alex ducked, the seat bouncing off the wall. He lurched forwards, pushing against Jon's midsection and forcing him into the wall. Jon raised the toilet seat and swung down on Alex's head and neck until he relented.

Alex lurched back, and swung his machete down at Jon. He raised the toilet seat, the middle of it catching the blade, stopping it from splitting his skull open. He pushed back and swung, Alex swung too.

The first slash moved across his midsection, and if it weren't for Michael's jacket, Jon's insides would be outside. Jon swung upward in retaliation, and felt a sharp pain move up his side to his arm as Alex swung again, harder this time, cutting through Mike's jacket, Brendan's hoodie, and Jon's skin.

Jon stumbled to the left, and felt another slash go down his back. Muffled screaming came from the Nixon mask as he turned around swinging towards Alex blindly.

He didn't care if Alex slashed, tore, and carved him up. He had to kill him.

Me or him. Him or me. One of us has to die today.

He rushed towards Alex, swinging the toilet seat blindly. Alex swung back, slower, but better aimed. Jonathan had no skill in fighting whatsoever, his only advantage was hitting him from behind.

Alex had experience, reach, strength, and weapons. In any other scenario Jonathan wouldn't stand a chance.

He still didn't stand a chance.

Slash after slash, Jon felt the stings, not as bad as the first, but much worse than any scrape he's had on a skateboard. He got lucky once. Alex swung horizontally, Jon swung vertically.

The machete hit the floor, and Jon raised the toilet seat again. He aimed for the mouth.

Alex's head twisted to the side, red coming from the mouth. A sound not unlike skittles spilling from the bag onto the tiles came next.

Words finally came from the Nixon mask in barely coherent screams.

"Say his fucking name! You hunted him! You tortured him! You murdered him!"

He swung again. Alex could only block with his arms now, with the occasional punch towards his direction. Jon kept moving forward, Alex kept moving back. He swung again.

"Say his name! I want to hear you say it!"


"You hunted him!"


"You tortured him!"


"You murdered him!"

Alex's back hit the wall.

Jon moved up raising the seat.

"I want to hear you-"

He swung.

"Say! His! Name!"

Alex caught the seat. The world stopped.

Alex. Caught. The. Seat.

Jon's eyes widened, he gasped under the mask.

Me or him. Him or me. One of us has to die today...
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