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Simon Telamon was, in short, one lucky son of a bitch. He didn't know it, but had he regained consciousness one minute earlier, he would have been dead. As the helicopter came to the tunnels and dropped him off, he had regained come to as the SOTF terrorists were dragging him into the tunnels. He hadn't been in any condition to fight back, hell, he was still regaining the memories of the past night. When he finally opened his eyes, he was at the edge of a tunnel by a forest. The helicopter ahead of him was loading up, and that is when he realized what was going on.

"Welcome to Survival of the Fittest."

It was at that moment when he got up, just as the helicopter was taking off, and started running through, throwing caution to the wind.

"Hey! HEY! Get back here! Let me go!" All caution had been thrown to the wind. One of the people pointed to him, and another man aimed very carefully. No need to kill potential ratings ...

A shot rang out, burying itself into the ground about an inch from Simon's left foot (at least, where it would have been). Simon, in a panic, tripped over, falling onto his face. Grace was never his strong point. After about a minute, Simon got up, after calming down. He headed back to the tunnel entrance, where he had seen two bags. One of them was his. The other was a regulation duffel bag with "MALE STUDENT #41 - SIMON TELAMON" embroidered on it. First, he picked up his personal bag and ... it felt lighter. He put it on the ground, unzipped it, and ...

"FUCK!" They had taken his prized possessions: his iPhone and his Macbook Pro. (Had he seen some of the more private footage of SOTF v3, he would have understood exactly why they did it: the escape attempt. Given their knowledge of Simon's computer prowess, there was no way the terrorists would let Simon near any piece of technology more advanced than a typewriter). In a rush, he dove into the bag he was issued. He felt food, water, some paper and ... metal. He wrapped his hand around it, hoping against hope that he could defend himself with his new ...

Key. That was it. Just a key marked "361." He turned it over.

Oh, shit, oh shit ... He was good as dead. Zeus, give me strength to stay sane, to find friends.

Clio. His girlfriend. She'd help. They'd had a bit of a rough spot during Prom. He'd been nervous as all hell in that huge crowd, but things were still cool, right? Simon just took a deep breath, zipped up his bags, and put them onto his back, easily taking on the weight, the key in his right hand, and the map in his left. Either this key led to the motherload on the island, or it was all but useless. There was only one way to find out ...

((Simon Telamon continued in Twists and Turns.))
Edited by decoy73, Aug 10 2010, 06:11 PM.
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