"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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That's Just Crazy Talk
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At first, Tom couldn't quite believe it. There he was, standing over the body of Phil, the sword in his hand. He had won! For once in his entire life, he had actually accomplished something meaningful. And yet Phil was still breathing. Evidently, the wound hadn't been fatal, and the man would likely rise again to torment Tom another day. And yet, the comedian was hesitant. It was one thing to fight for one's life, and yet another to kill a man who was lying helplessly on the floor, unable to fight back. Tom shook his head back and forth and raised the sword up above Phil's chest. If there was any time to do it, it was now.

"Hasta la vista, you stupid son of a-"

Without warning, however, Tom found himself being thrown forward. Nick Reid, for whatever reason, had decided to knock him over when he wasn't looking, and he was not at all prepared for it. He went down hard, smashing his nose against the stone floor of the cave. His sword fell out of his hand, clattering uselessly out of reach. Not that it would be much use for what was to come. After all, Tom was still just reacquiring his bearings when he was suddenly turned over on the ground, and Nick proceeded to pound his skull into mush.

If Tom had still had the mental faculties to analyze what was happening to him after the first time his head had been thrust into the cave floor, he would have doubtless complained about how unfair it all was. He had been attacked by Phil, not the other way around, so why was he the one who had to die? He'd been acting in self-defense, and they should have been congratulating him for ridding them of such an unstable person. If Tom had had the chance, he would have definitely thought all those things and more, but instead, all he could conjure up was this:

Please...Please stop!

Tom's arms rose up to try to hold Nick's still, but before he could get a hold, he was crushed into the ground again. He let out a gasp of pain, and suddenly the whole world became blurry, because the impact had knocked off his glasses. It was better that a loud ringing was now echoing through his ears, because it deadened his killer's screaming. What was he screaming for? If he'd just told Tom to stop, he would have stopped willingly and left him alone. It was one of the things that he probably would have needed context for. He always hated those kinds of situations.

Another strike against the floor, and the ringing stopped, much like his irrelevant thoughts, his pitiful attempts at stopping Nick's assault, and his breathing. If he'd stuck around for it, he would have realized that Nick had given him one or two more, just for good measure. Not counting the last little thump against the stone floor when Nick finally realized that Tom had given up the ghost, and that there was no longer any need to stain the cave with his blood.

B131: Tom Guthrie - Deceased
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Spelunking · The Tunnels