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White Knight Nightmare; B004: Start
Topic Started: Aug 8 2010, 03:33 PM (5,469 Views)
decoy73
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[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"So, Charlene. You think it'll be hard?"

"Hm?"

"College. You think it'll be hard?" Aaron Hicks was looking at her in the limo. Was he because he was speaking to her or just sizing her up? Charlene figured it didn't matter. She was kind of doing the same thing to him.

"My studies? Don't know just yet. I could go into anything. Tennis team is going to be pretty cool. You?" She gulped the glass of champagne in one gulp.

"Well, I've got football, but I'm not really thinking about school. I'll think about that in school. Doesn't matter much now." He laughed. Prompting a slight giggle from Charlene. Possibly the champagne. Didn't really matter much. They had a prom to enjoy ...


Charlene Norris woke up from her reverie, her eyes adjusting to the light as they took in the tennis court. Had this been a movie, one could have relished the irony that the school's star tennis player was starting her game on a tennis court. She got up groggily, as the effects of the gas wore off.

Whah? Was I drunk at a party again? As her mind returned to the real, she realized that that was not the case. For one, she didn't smell any different, and she was fully clothed. She stood up, knees bent, looking around as she rubbed the back of her neck and looked to the ground ...

Oh, no. The revelation hit her like a brick to the head. The metal band, coupled with the sight of Steven Digaetano's face on her sweatshirt gave her the full realization of her situation. Oh, no, no, no no. She was on SOTF. She didn't know much about it, but she did know one thing: people like her, the popular girls with bodies to die for, were rape targets. She looked down, panicked. About a meter away from her were two bags. As she walked towards them, she saw the regulation bag that all the students were given. She gave it a good look - "FEMALE STUDENT #31 - CHARLENE NORRIS." Yeah. That was her. She opened it , rummaging through everything, when she felt up something cold. She pulled it out, to find out she was holding a gun (specifically, an FN Browning HP - single-action semiautomatic pistol, weight one kilogram, holds thirteen 9 mm rounds per clip and one in the chamber - although Charlene had no idea about this). She looked it over, absentmindedly pushing a button on the grip - and the clip fell right out.

Shit. She picked it up, fiddling around with it, eventually putting it back in. She went back to her bag, finding and picking up the other two clips and putting them into her pocket (giving her forty bullets total - unbeknownst to her, there was also a bullet in the chamber as well as a full thirteen round clip). She noticed a small switch at the rear of the gun - it was the safety, although it wasn't until she flicked it and saw the red dot did she realize that there was something wrong with that, immediately flicking it back (she had never used a weapon, but she had seen movies. She knew safeties existed.). Charlene just closed her mismatched eyes and tucked the gun into the waistband of her pants, under her sweatshirt and tank top. She looked around, finally paying attention to her surroundings, and found three people slightly ahead and to her left. She walked around, eventually finding the gate out, her bags on her back, walking towards the three (whom she now recognized as being all male) there. When she got about ten meters from them, she called out in as calm a voice as she could muster (she actually did it pretty decently, given the circumstances):

"Hey, guys. Pretty fucked up, huh?" Please don't kill me ...
Edited by decoy73, Aug 12 2010, 02:55 PM.
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"Unbelievably so. I don't suppose you have a lighter on you?"

Charlene smirked as the black haired blazer boy jokingly asked for a lighter before he went into some spiel about how it was possible to get out of the game so long as they exposed themselves (Which seemed weird. Wouldn't you want to keep an escape plan secret?), and then started writing on a piece of notebook paper, passing it around. It was then that the tall guy with the scars started to speak.

"Look, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we have to be ready for players, somebody is going to be playing. Shit, according to Alex's doohickey, we already lost one, probably more. I got a gun, which I should point out to you guys is loaded and armed, just in case you think of taking me out." Jon sighed, "sorry, I don't trust you, granted I didn't trust you guys back at Bayview, so yeah. Alex here got some GPS with the locations of everyone else, and you got that sword Pete." It was then that he turned to Charlene, gun pointed at her.

"I don't know what you got, but I honestly hope you are more than the dumb bitch you seem to be, if you would excuse my bluntness. Sorry for pointing it out, we may not escape, in fact we probably won't escape, however there's people here I want off this island, I'm sure the same holds true for all of you as well." Then the guy with the sword, presumably Pete, started to speak about tanks and cars or something. As he passed the note back to Alex, Charlene reached out and read the note, cocking her eyebrow as she did so.

What the ... is he really expecting us to pull this off?

Charlene started writing on the paper. The thing that nobody (not even Charlene herself) knew was that Charlene wasn't as dumb as she was made out to be. In reality, all the partying she did subjected her to a sort of mental atrophy. As she never applied herself, she never did that well in class. However, she was prone to flashes of intelligence.

Tell me how we can get our coordinates. As far as I know, that thing only shows where people are. And even if we find out where we are, how to we tell anyone who's watching? As she gave back the paper, she spoke to Jon, annoyed.

"Well, I'm so glad for the vote of confidence in my abilities. It's only too bad that I have this." She reached into her jeans and pulled out the pistol, waving it around so that the two of them could see it (she had only just now realized that Pete had left). "So yeah, Alex, I guess if I use this right, I do have a lighter."
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Charlene was in a staredown with Jon, until Alex decided to take matters into his own hands.

"Put your guns away. You two are not going to kill each other. No one is killing anyone Look, here's how it is. You can either play, die or take a third option. It's not the best plan in the world. It probably won't work. But it's all I've got for now. The more people we can pull together, the more likely it is to work. My boat may be full of holes, but the martians are invading and it's the last one out of England."

Charlene just stood there for a second, then lowered her gun. No fucking way was she about to die here.

"Jon, we all have people we care about here. We'll find people with this, try and recruit them, rescue them when necessary. We've got no way of knowing till we find them. But we'll try. There are people that are dear to me as well on this island."

Charlene's eyes went down for a second as her friends came to mind. Come on, Thea, Acacia, even Ricky or JJ would be good at this point. It was then that she was greeted with a shout.

"ALEX!" She looked up again to see two girls approaching them. Alex smiled for a second before turning back to Jon and herself.

"We're all cool, aren't we?"

"Yeah. Everything's fine." Charlene stated in that tone that kinda suggested that she was still slightly upset, but she was just going to drop the issue. Then Alex, Hayley and the girl with the punk look started to talk, when Hayley essentially shot down Alex's plan, and then Madeleine protested said shoot-down. Charlene just put her gun back into her bag (keeping her grip on it, though. She would admit it to only a precious few, but she was terrified).

"Hey, guys. Why don't we just try it? We don't exactly have anything better to go for."
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It was a bit of an argument. First, Alex made some dramatic speech about whether any of them could kill him in cold blood. About how they had nothing to lose because they were already fucked anyways. Then Jon butted his head into the discussion again.

"I honestly couldn't give a crap about half the people in this school, I mean I don't want them to die or anything but I wouldn't bother carving a epithet if they do, but I need you to promise that you'll let me look for one person in particular, Anna Chase. Can you do that? Second, I want to make sure you won't do anything stupid, this dealio is fine and all but if you go running into a place that's going to be a danger zone soon, don't expect me to bail your ass out." Jon knelt down for a second as Charlene smirked.

Well, glad to know where I stand.

It's not that I don't trust you will be able to pull this off, mate, but I'm just keeping an realistic view here, something your girlfriend seems to realize that every plan needs one. Now that my point has been made, I have one last question ... Group Campbell, could any of you spare a cigarette?" This one Charlene had to choke back a snicker. They were fighting for their lives and these guys were arguing about who gets the next cigarette? But it was part of what Jon said that prevented it from making a full-on laugh. Anna Chase. She wasn't exactly one of the popular girls, but Charlene had definitely heard of her. Her thoughts on Anna Chase were something she would have kept private, but her brain-to-mouth filter had decided to take a break at that moment.

"Anna Chase? Short, skinny girl, looks kinda like a freshman. Shit, she doesn't stand a chance." She looked around as she realized that she had just made that statement aloud.

Backpedal! BACKPEDAL!

"What I meant was, it depends on her weapon, but if we don't find her soon, she might end up in trouble."

Okay, go on with the "yeah, I may not trust you, but better you guys than risking it with some psycho" talk. You never heard that.

"So about that name. What about 'The Smoking Weirdos?' Because not only are we imitating a smokestack right now, but we're probably the people nobody would expect to join up." It was kind of true. Charlene hadly knew any of these people, and had there been some sort of mock SOTF thing at school, she would have never even thought of them as partners but then again, this was real. Danya said anything goes ...
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Charlene had always been slightly snarky. Whether it was because she was born like that or because of whom she hung out with was unknown. However, she wasn't that bad. The second she realized that stating that Chase was fucked was more than a little hurtful, she almost immediately edited her statement so that it stated that Chase was merely not in a very good position. It was better than telling Jon that Chase was dead where she stood, right?

"Shut up!" Maybe not. She wouldn't have had much of a problem with it (she'd been bitched out before), except that Jon was holding a (probably loaded and dangerous) gun. Charlene should have ducked, except that her body had frozen. About a second later, she felt something ram her from the right side, as -

BANG

Charlene hit the ground, looking up at what turned out to be her savior - Alex Campbell. Of course, with the adrenaline high of being SHOT AT, she wasn't thinking that.

"You FUCKER!" Charlene leapt up right after Alex rolled off, Jonathan's apologies for mistakenly having let off the shots in anger falling on deaf ears, as she whipped her right hand out of her bag, still clutching the pistol, now pointed at Jon, and squeezing the trigger (Luckily for Charlene, in her adrenaline-fueled rage, she had not thought to turn the safety off, thus rendering the weapon effectively harmless) in vain. After about five seconds, the high wore off, and she started to feel a sharp stinging sensation. She brought her left hand up to her neck to feel a slightly wet sensation. Pulling it into her view, she saw the red on her fingers, and on her right forearm.

Charlene didn't realize it, but she was the beneficiary of two strokes of luck; had Alex not tackled her, a bullet would have hit her directly in the right bicep, which would have effectively taken her dominant arm out, or the right side of her chest, which would have gone through the lung, probably killing her. Second, had the bullet that swiped her neck been about a quarter an inch lower, it would have grazed her collar just enough to detonate it. Either way, that wasn't what she was thinking. Even though the bullets had merely grazed her (Alex had it far worse, having taken a direct hit to the right arm), only one real train of thought was running through her head:

OhmygodheshotmeheshotmeIgotshotIgotSHOTIGOTSHOT!

At that point, Charlene's brain, numb from the paralyzing fear and rage of being shot, essentially short-circuited, causing her to collapse (also, currently unknown due to the adrenaline rush and subsequent emotional outburst, a third bullet had also struck her, this one grazing her inside left calf - while the bleeding there was more severe than the other two, it was still manageable), all the while her breathing very short and quick, tears coming out of her eyes, even though she wasn't really thinking about anything except for the situation at hand:

Heshotmeheshotmeheshotmeheshotme ...
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In all of about ten seconds, everything had gone from perfectly fine (well, as fine as could be in this situation) to totally fucked up. Where there had once been calm discussion, the volume level had, due to the urgency of the situation, risen considerably.

Even so, Charlene couldn't hear anything. She was in such a state of mental shock that she had essentially tuned out everything around her, even Madelyn's attempts to help. It wasn't until Madelyn touched her leg wound when Charlene exhibited a return to alertness.

"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!"

Madelyn's contact with the wound in her leg had caused her to feel the pain that had been delayed by the shock of the whole situation. In fact, the pain seemed to come in on overdrive, sending a white-hot flash through her leg before dulling down somewhat. She craned her head up off the ground to see Madelyn bent down over her leg, pouring water on her leg. She was about to ask Madelyn what the hell she was doing when she spoke up.

"Charlene!"

"Whuh - what the hell?" She now noticed that her left leg from the knee down was exposed, the result of her pant leg being ripped off. She was about to ask why when she noticed the cut on her leg. "What happened? What did he do?" Had she been merely watching, or in some way used to being shot at, the answer would have been patently obvious: she had been hit in the leg. Of course, in the shock of being shot, Charlene was now fully alert, but she still wasn't fully rational. As such, that thought wasn't really occurring to her. Neither was the fact that Alex had been hit in a much more vital area.

"What the fuck did he do?"
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Madelyn looked slightly uncomfortable when Charlene asked about how she got shot. It wasn't really surprising to Charlene, not because the situation was already quite the clusterfuck as it was, but because she wasn't paying attention to that facet. But Charlene was able to not only hear, but actually listen to Madelyn speak.

"He, umm... He... He shot you, Charlene. But Alex totally tried to save you! He dove in there like... like some kind of super-hero that takes bullet wounds for other people and got shot in the arm! He probably saved your life. Totally cool. You should remember to thank him, heh heh heh..."

Charlene was about to open her mouth, not to thank Alex (who started to walk in some unknown direction, but couldn't due to the bullet hole in his arm), but to let out a steady stream of cuss words directed at one Jonathan Jarocki swearing to kick his ass at the most humane level, but Madelyn continued to talk as she handed over a first aid kit.

"So, uh, now that you're up and stuff, and since I don't want to hurt you again, do you think you can help me wrap this up with gauze? If we stop the bleeding, it should heal up, right? I'll keep pouring the water to keep it clean if you want. It doesn't look too deep, so if we keep it clean and bandage it I don't think it will get infected. Nope, won't be too bad at all, right?" Charlene just stared at the wound, now fully exposed by the McGuyvering of her left pant leg into a capri pant leg. Needless to say, this was somewhat more than she was used to, having only up to this point having dealt with scrapes from the tennis court, a sprained ankle back as a freshman at cheerleading practice, and a small incision from when she accidentally cut herself in home ec. Charlene coughed, then held her chest in a desperate attempt not to throw up. Luckily, nothing came out of her mouth as she instead fished through the first aid kit for some gauze with her left hand (she had still not relinquished her grip on the gun - in fact, it was just the opposite: her grip had tightened after Jon's actions). Finding a pack, she ripped it open, having come fully back into alertness, and pressed it onto her leg wound, grunting in pain as she did so.

"I am going to kill that fucker." She muttered, pissed off. She would have continued talking about the things she wanted to do, but then she noticed Alex as he screamed in pain from collapsing on his wounded arm.

"... Alex totally tried to save you!"

Charlene flashed back to just a minute before, when Madelyn had told her of Alex's actions, and then back slightly further to when he tackled her.

"Jon! Fuck NO!" She looked at Alex, writhing about in agony ...

"... got shot in the arm!" ... and her eyes, which had been filled with rage just a few moments ago, softened. Alex had tried to save her. He was trying to save everyone (or at least give Danya the proverbial finger). At the very least, she owed him one (of course, trying to take care of her own leg wound made it slightly hard - she didn't know if she could even use her leg without screaming in pain every step).

"Is ... is he okay?" Okay, stupid question ...
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((GMing of Alex Campbell done with permission from nowave))

Madelyn decided it would be a good idea to talk, talk, talk. No, Alex was not okay (and that was patently obvious to Charlene even before she asked the question). His arm was probably fucked unless he got some decent medical care (which was obviously going to happen). As Madelyn tended to Charlene's wound, Madelyn went into the specifics of how Civil War soldiers usually had to lose limbs if they got shot (which was definitely NOT helping). She then started to describe how Alex was losing blood due to his wound, but she was choking up.

Great. This is totally past my maturity level. Of all the things she was expected to do as a senior in high school, grieving over the loss of all your friends as they died en masse was not one of the items on her list. She was about to reply with ... something (comforting people she had known for a total of ten minutes due to someone's impending death was, again, not within her maturity level - the worst thing she had to worry about twenty-four hours ago was that news of her sexuality would be let out into the public, possibly ruining her reputation) when a slow clap dominated the airwaves.

"Kids, I have to say that I'm truly impressed with your first day showing. Blood! Tragedy! Explosions! Mayhem! You've utterly smashed the record for first day kills; it makes an old man proud to see you all taking his instructions so thoroughly to heart! Congratulations to those of you that are still alive, because you've already outlasted 19 of your classmates."

Yeah. You're welcome, asshole. Charlene thought sarcastically. I don't want to her anything except "Game over. Go home." Even through that, she still heard the names of her nineteen ex-classmates. Most of them didn't really strike a bell. Eric Lorenz ... wasn't he a Nazi or something? She didn't really have a problem hearing his name. The only other names that she really cared about were those of Steffan Kronwall and Tony Russo. She knew both of them (not closely, but she still knew them).

"To keep you all on your toes, it's time for the dangerzones! Since a lot of dummies don't seem to understand this, let me put it simply: You go in zone. Collars goes boom. Got that? Okay children, listen close. As of this announcement, the Lighthouse, the Groundskeeper's Hut and Greens are now danger zones. If you're in any of those places, you'd better clear out pronto! Tick tock, folks!"

Okay. We're probably pretty far away from any of those zones, so ... A small beep interrupted that train of thought.

What the ... oh, shit. Charlene's blood froze as she realized what that beeping meant (Had she looked at the map, she would have realized that she was, in fact, in The Greens. Even without the map, she would probably be able to figure out that fact by virtue of the lack of any sort of structure, but then wasn't the time and place to think about where she was, except for one small equation: beeping collar = RUN).

Beep. Charlene immediately picked up the GPS a couple feet from her (she didn't really think about it - all she realized its existence meant that it was ipso facto valuable to her continued existence), zipped up her bag and stood up, gun in hand. She winced as the pain in her leg flared up for a second, and then faded away.

"We've got to get out of here!" (Of course, with the collars beeping, this was pretty obvious)

Beep. She looked around. Hayley and Madelyn seemed pretty able, having not been shot, but Alex ... he wasn't going to make it without help.

Beep. Charlene ran over to Alex, transferring the gun into her left hand.

"Come on, Alex, MOVE!" She picked him up by his left shoulder, taking enough of his weight so that he could stand (Unusual fact - in spite of the desperate situation, Charlene in fact made a conscious decision to pick Alex up on that side, as she didn't want to get Alex's blood on her - while in and of itself pretty unusual, the reason not out of safety to prevent spreading a blood borne disease. She merely didn't want to get blood on her clothes).

Beep ... beep ... beep ... beep ... She started speed-walking, the fact that she was half-carrying Alex and his possessions on her right side preventing her from going into a full out sprint.

Beep, beep, beep, beep ... She quickened her pace, trying to keep herself going. She turned her head around to the other two girls.

"MOVE!" Have to get out of here, have to get out of here. She had too much to lose, too much of a future, to just sit down and have her head get blown up. Hell, she was going to college!

Beep beep beep beep ... Charlene looked forward, looking for some definite boundary of where she was. How the hell do I get out of here?

Beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep ... The increased tempo raised even more fear into the tennis player. I'm not going to make it, I'm not going to make it, I'm not going to make it ... In spite of this, something, possibly sheer survival instinct, kept her going.

Beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep ... Charlene started to go even faster, struggling to keep the wounded Alex by her side as every thought in her head was starting to instruct her to ditch Alex, in spite of the fact that he had saved her life as tears started to go through her eyes, expecting to feel the pain that would inevitably come with her neck exploding (which in fact would not come - death by collar would be quick and painless, if quite gruesome).

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep .... Charlene took three more steps before she collapsed out of fear, taking the stumbling Alex down with her, when something unusual occurred ...

Beep ... beep ... beep ...

Silence.

Charlene just lay there on her stomach, her breath once again short and quick, first out of fear and then out of sheer amazement.

Wait ... I'm not dead? As much as she couldn't believe it, Charlene and Alex had managed to escape the dangerzone with seconds to spare.

Holy. Shit. After about a minute she stood up, the adrenaline and emotional high leaving her as she put her gun back into her bag, picked Alex up again and walked off to wherever it was that didn't greet visitors with a beeping collar. She spoke, her voice almost devoid of any emotion due to being temporary mental exhaustion.

"Come on, Alex. Let's move." I never thought I'd need a rest now ...

((Charlene and Alex continued in Break Up And Break Down))
Edited by decoy73, Sep 15 2010, 05:59 PM.
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