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Where modesty's ill manners, 'tis but fit that impudence and malice pass for wit.
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Just like she thought. Duncan came back with them. The three of them were inseparable, and everything would be happy forever. Everything.

Then she saw him. He crept up behind Duncan and slid out of a nearby shadow, concentrating intently on the other boy. Cassie's heart skipped a beat when she saw him, the willowy blonde superstar who somehow managed to get on the island out of nowhere. He held in his hands a gun with a barrel full of holes and a long rectangle attached to the bottom. She froze and looked at him as he readied the gun. "Winston?"

"Hey, Maria! Are you alr-"

Several bright flashes and loud bangs emitted from that wiffle barrel as the grim-faced boy pulled the trigger. Duncan's chest erupted into gouts of blood and loose flesh, much of which stained the left side of her shirt in eye-popping crimson. Duncan and Maria hit the ground, while Cassie remained standing, looking down at Duncan's body in disbelief. Her eyes shifted back to the boy with the gun, who also looked down at Duncan's smoking course before staring right back into her eyes.

It seemed like her jaw was made of twenty-pound granite; no muscle could lift it without snapping. But she noticed her vision blurring, and she forced herself to close her mouth and wipe her eyes. "Winston, why?" she asked with a strained voice.

The boy furrowed his brow. "Because you couldn't do it yourself," he replied. His tone of voice was harsh, harsher than she'd ever known him to direct at her. "You're coming home to me whether you like it or not, and if they won't let you, if they think they deserve to win any more than you, then they have to go, too." He brought a thumb up to his throat and drew it across, miming a decapitation.

"No!" she cried. "Shut up! You're not real!"

"Would you prefer to die?" he snarled. "I'll be back for Maria. Don't even try and stop me."

Then she blinked, and in the moment her eyes closed the boy changed. His platinum blonde hair changed to brown with red highlights. His body became taller and sturdier, his clothes fancier. Most importantly, the piercing glare on his face vanished; he now looked at her with a confused expression. Confused and annoyed.

His gun hadn't changed at all, though. It was still the same, still loaded, still deadly. He was armed, and she'd talked nonsensically to him for no reason he could probably tell. This left her in a bit of a predicament, as it happened. By this time Maria had vamoosed, taking Duncan's dying body with her. and she heard them talking in a nearby house. She stepped back, holding her javelin up as a pathetic shield to protect her. Dare she look back for the route they took, risk getting shot a bazillion times before she could run?

Seconds passed. She still lived. With one swift motion, she turned and ran, rushing into an open door and looking down onto a bed with Duncan. By now, Maria's steadfast friend, the long-suffering companion to her childish antics, her better half, had passed on. Maria gave him one last look before leaving the room, but Cassidy couldn't follow.

She needed a moment to pull herself together.
WickedIcon: i just launched a baby wearing a denim jacket and a bowler hat across a hospital, through a window, killing several patients, destroying thousands of dollars of equipment, and finally coming to rest on the body of a presumably dead clown
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chitoryu12I have yet to find gay sex that involves the men punching each other. I must not be on the internet enough

Turning Pages: Read some books along with me, why don't you?

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