"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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MK Kilmarnock
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Hate, hate, HATE!!!
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Jason was going all alone, by himself. Brook was quick to hush up when his friend put his finger to his lips, but he couldn't stand the tension. Everything had gone so quiet all of a sudden... what if the figure had decided not to come out, to show themselves peacefully? What if they were going to leap out and shoot Jason?

Brook's arm quivered once more as panic began to set in. All he could image at this point was Jason walking around that woodpile, yelling 'freeze' similar to how a police officer would, and then...

The air erupted into pure war as a clap of mechnical-born thunder sounded, then echoed. Something slammed into Jason's chest, lodging directly into his heart and causing bits of skin, flesh, and cartilage to jump out of the point of impact. The boy, caught in the hands of fate, found himself flying back as Brook could only watch in horror. Jason never even got to scream, just screeching a short 'GA-' before hitting the ground with enough momentum to cause him to roll. When he came to a stop, blood was leaking everywhere.

Just... everywhere.

Brook's body had leaned a bit too far out of its comfort zone, thanks to him having grown a bit faint. As he shifted to regain his balance, he found Jason going to inspect the noise at the woodpile, saying something to the effect of having... whoever it was... flanked. So he was alive... Brook couldn't tell just what was real at this point, as his brain was trying to cope with what was going on.

However, he had to stay on task, help Jason. If Jason said that they were flanking this person, then... Brook was going to do his part. He was fairly tall, but that didn't mean he couldn't make himself hard to see.

Okay... nice and easy...

Brook poised his gun in front of him with both hands, like he had seen on TV once, and walked in a hunched-over stance as he rounded the woodpile. He felt a bit guilty for being able to acknowledge this, but he was sure that there was an episode of Walker, Texas Ranger that mirrored this situation. Besides... you know, being a high school senior, being abducted and put on an island with an uncomfortable device strapped to your throat, being forced to kill others... No. He wasn't doing that.

Brook had nearly rounded the whole pile, and his knees were quaking. Whoever it was, they had to be around the corner.

One.

Two.

"Hey, Jason. It's Nathan."

Wait, seriously!? Nathan? Brook let out a sigh of relief without having meant to. His cover blown, he pushed off on his lead foot and spun around the corner, gun pointed and at the ready anyway, until he saw what his ears had confirmed for him.

"That's right, you are fl..." Brook started, just in case it wasn't, but here he was... Nathan Choultard. One of his other friends, as luck would have it. Well, luck had REALLY shafted him in the ass as hard as it could as of late, so it was about time that it paid him back.

"Nathan! Is that really... oh my god..." Brook panted, standing up straight and finally lowering his gun. He wasn't safe, yet, though... it was hard to believe, but Brook had to come to terms with the fact that not everybody here was like Jason. Some people would've shot him, or stabbed him, or... who knows what else. He looked around nervously, raising the gun again... but not at Nathan or Jason. "We should... get somewhere safer."
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Flowerhead · The Felled Forest: North