"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 somewhere else.))

Matt walked north, without any particular location in mind. Just out of the danger. Away from somewhere that could cause his head to explode. He held the shotgun he had stolen from Aiden in his hands. He admired it. Fired just once. It was a work of art in its own special way, crafted by some unseen gunsmith whose face he would never see, who he would never have the chance to thank for gifting to him this wonderful thing.

He walked by the bell tower, admiring it. It was beautiful. He looked up to the sun and idly wondered about the guilt of whoever it is that made this gun. Where did he start and where did it end? Should the maker of the gun be blamed? The company? The designer, the miners who mined the material that later formed into this perfect tool? He was guilty, certainly, if he chose to fire it.

He happened to stumble upon three people. Two he recognized one he didn't. Serena with her back turned and Alessio. Alessio who he remembered had killed Henry Spencer. So long ago, he thought. Only a few days but a few days was all it took for Henry to begin decomposing. Soon nothing would be left of him and Henry Spencer would be a memory, one eventually judged unworthy of being passed on as his family members died. And then there would be no Henry Spencer.

Creeping forward, trying not to make a sound. He raised the gun to meet Serena's back as soon as she came within sight. She was pointing something a gun no doubt at Alessio, probably with the intent to kill him. He hoped that Alessio would appreciate this and consider him some savior.

"Hey," he said.
Edited by Privyet, Jun 10 2017, 06:59 PM.
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