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"N-no, it's fine. I'll go myself." Jon slowly walked towards the two bodies that lay in front of him, his eyes trailed on them.

"Everything is... kind of messed up, and I just need time to think. I did just fine bandaging one of my friends when he got hurt, I-I think I'll do alright." You didn't mention someone else came and killed him later that night.

"I just need a night to think, maybe tomorrow I'll get a good idea of what I'll do."

He looked Will first, and the gun near his body. He'd need that if he even wanted to see tomorrow.

He knelt down and grabbed it, rifing through Will's bag like there wasn't someone behind him watching. "Had it coming" he muttered under his breath, but he wasn't sure if it was Will or Darius at that point. Maybe Darius tried to play, and his dumb ass got himself killed. Maybe Will just thought he could get away with it, because nobody would miss him, obviously. Jon didn't know, and the only people who did weren't here. Maybe they both did, or neither of them did. Jon didn't know.

Jon pocketed the ammo too as he turned towards the real reason he was here.

He KNEW Alex deserved it. He hobbled over to the body, and almost went for the axe. He realized he never wanted to see it again, considering what it's story was. What it was used for. To Jon, the damn thing was cursed. He went for the machete still lodged in Alex, placing his foot on the corpse for leverage, he tugged it out.

"You're the real coward... I hope it all still hurts wherever you go." He spat on him.

He couldn't stay here anymore. Any longer and what little of his mind he had would be gone. He needed to breath.

He stormed over to the seat and mask he dropped, and walked out.

(( Jonathan Gulley Continued Elsewhere))
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