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The Cult of ...; Debut of Jimmy Robertson (B028)
Topic Started: Aug 8 2010, 04:38 PM (1,813 Views)
decoy73
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[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Jimmy Robertson awoke to a slight breeze across his face as he opened his eyes. His view opened to find grass.

Huh? What the hell?

He picked himself up into a sitting position. He was in a field, he could tell that much as he looked around, but what was he ...

Oh, no ...

The events of the previous evening came back to him: waking up bound in that chair, watching one of the teachers get shot, seeing that guy John whoever kill that girl so casually. The full impact of what was heppening hit him, and one thought went through his head:

What kind of person would do something like this? Here he was, on Survival of the Fittest, tasked with the most horrifying task of his life: to kill his classmates, his friends. He looked to his right to see two bags. The first one was his personal bag, he could tell that much. The other one, well it was his now. On it was embroidered "MALE STUDENT #28 - JAMES ROBERTSON." The weapon taped to it, though, was weird. It looked like a short sword, except the handle was as long as he was tall. It wouldn't even fit in the bag.

At least I have an alternative if someone tries to kill me. I can just punch 'em in the stomach and run off. Even as he picked up the naginata (although he didn't know that was what it was called), a chill ran through his spine. He was big, sure, and he played football, but outside of that, he wouldn't hurt a fly. All he wanted to do was help people.

Well, one thing's for sure. At the end of this, I may not be a psychiatrist, but hell, I'm going to need one.
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Jimmy put the naginata on the ground as he decided to do the one thing he could to keep calm: he reached into his personal bag, looking for his books. He had packed a couple in there, hoping to get some light reading in during the trip. As he flipped through his bag, he noticed that one had been turned on its side: "Basic Notes in Psychiatry" by Michael I. Levi. The other one , however, was still upright, so he took it out, and looked at his second book: "The Cult of Perfection" by Cooper Lawrence.

Fuck. Jimmy swore inward. Of all the books he had to throw into his bag at the last minute, it was this one. He had gotten it for his eighteenth birthday from his mom. While the thought was nice, after about thirty pages, it was clear that burning the book would have been an insult to fire. There were no actual psychological theories, it had no educational value, and the actual writing looked like it had been done by a sixth grader that had been up for forty-eight hours straight. He just put the book back in the bag when he heard someone.

"Hey, 'Sup! I'm Sam. Cool weapon, that some sorta spear or somethin'?"

Jimmy turned his head. It was a girl. Blonde hair, blue eyes. He squinted to get a better look.

Hoodie, jeans, casual demeanor. Is she trying to suck me in or is she genuinely friendly? Is she hiding her weapon? Does she have one? It took Jimmy a second to realize what he was doing: he was getting suspicious. He was starting to play. He just shook his head and waved back.

"Hey. I'm Jimmy. I don't really know what this is exactly. Looks like some weird kind of sword." He picked it up, innocently showing it to Sam. "Don't know if I can really use this effectively."
Edited by decoy73, Aug 9 2010, 02:20 PM.
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Sam walked towards Jimmy, showing a friendly demeanor.

"Yeah, well, I don't think anyone really knows how to use their weapon really. Even if they have training they might not get the weapon they know how to use, luck of the draw and all. I mean, I got this bow, but I'm not exactly an expert archer or anything. Anyway, I'm sure you'll make do, from what I hear some of the 'weapons' are supposed to be pretty fucking crappy, yours has got to be amazing in comparison to some of the worst ones, so be thankful." Jimmy finally breathed a secret sigh of relief when Sam put all her stuff down and stretched.

"Hey, have you looked at your map yet? We should figure out where we are... I kinda just picked a direction and started walking, so I have no idea where I was, or where I am now for that matter." Sam asked.

Jimmy put down his naginata and rubbed his wrists where the zip-ties had bound him a few hours ago. "Sorry. I just woke up. Didn't even open my bag. I just found this thing strapped to my bag," Jimmy motioned to the naginata. "It was too long to fit inside." He knelt down, opening his second bag up for the first time, fishing around for the map, and quickly closing it up.

"Well, looking at where we are," Jimmy stole a few looks around, looking for anything that might be considered a landmark on the map, "It seems that we are about here." He showed Sam his map, pointing to a spot on the map. "So it seems that it would be best to go ..." Jimmy was about to say where he wanted to go when he heard a familiar voice cry out.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" He turned to his right, squinting off into the distance. He couldn't make out the person by sight, but it sounded like ...

"I'm over here! I - Damn!" The figure tripped over, but Jimmy recognized the polo shirt as he went down.

"ALAN!"Jimmy picked up his bags, slinging them over his left shoulder, grabbing his naginata with his right hand, and jogged toward the spot where he had seen Alan go down, trying not to trip over anything. "Don't worry, Sam! He's a friend!" He called out over his shoulder.

"Alan. Are you okay?" Jimmy asked, kneeling by the wheezing form of Alan Rickhall, carefully placing the blade of the naginata in the ground where it wouldn't hurt anybody.
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[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
As Jimmy helped Alan up, he felt some relief knowing that there was nobody after him, and that Alan had not succumbed to the game. Oh, he was most probably scared out of his mind, but Alan still had his wits about him.

"I fear we may not be human by the time this is over... S-O-T-F... I can't help but think that I've heard it before, any ideas Jimmy?"

Jimmy raised an eyebrow as he looked at the booklet Alan held. It was talking about the rules and regulations of the "game" (as it stood), and the correct way to play (as defined by Danya). It was about then that Samantha came over.

"Sorry to ruin your happy little reunion boys, but we've been making a lot of noise in the middle of a big open space, during a 'game' where everyone is supposed to fucking kill each other. So I'm gonna go, you guys should leave too, but don't follow me, it'd be best if we split up into at least two groups and I don't wanna be in the bigger one." Then she turned around and left, stopping only to pick up her bags.

"No, Samantha! We're not sure of what's out there!" Jimmy protested. He was heavily against Samantha leaving, mainly because an alliance not only kept its members safe physically, but also because each member could help maintain the mental health of all the others. However, his protest went unheeded, and Jimmy turned back to Alan.

"SOTF. It's short for 'Survival of the Fittest.' It's horrible. This guy, Danya, he takes an entire high school class hostage and forces them to kill each other live on television until there's only one left. They give us food, water, a map, a compass, a random item, and slap a collar on us. It's these things ..." Jimmy tapped the collar on his neck, careful not to disturb it, " ... that he uses to make us comply. We don't follow his rules, the collars explode. It's like the Milgram experiment, except that instead of assuring us that we won't be held responsible for following orders, that we will be penalized for noncompliance. I've watched a little, I've read about it. What's disturbing is that you're probably right. Whomever's left standing will be forever changed. The first winner at least wanted to simply survive. The last winner, John Rizzolo - he was the guy in the video, if you remember it, but he became a monster." The thought of that shook him to the core.

If I make it to the end, will there be anything left of me? Or will I become like John Rizzolo?

"Anyway, this is what they gave me. At least I don't have to actually kill anyone with it. Just whack 'em in the stomach with the handle and subduing them." He grabbed hold of the naginata and lifted it out of the ground. "What did they give you?" It probably wasn't a very smooth transition, but if they stayed scared, they'd lose themselves to fear. But internally, that same thought went through Jimmy's head.

If I make it to the end, will there be anything left of me? Or will I become like John Rizzolo?
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As Jimmy explained the situation to Alan, he expected Alan to be scared, angry, or both. Jimmy was slghtly surprised to see Alan simply reach into his pocket, pull his hand out, and sighed as he picked up his bags.

"I guess that girl was right, we can't stay here for much longer; I don't know about you, but I think that some people wouldn't hesitate to kill anyone in sight. There is one more thing, although I shudder at the thought of it ... Obviously neither of us wants to kill anyone, but we need some way to defend ourselves, unfortunately all we have to do with that is that sword. We need to find someone with a decent weapon, I'm not saying we hide behind a blood-thirsty maniac for the next few days, we just need someone who would ... Take out the dangerous people ... For the good of everyone else of course." Jimmy's eyebrows arched somewhat. Is Alan suggesting that we play? Has the process already started?

"I'm sorry, I guess I'm just scared. I've never been in this situation before ... Wait, you said that everyone gets a weapon? Then what did I get?" Alan opened up his regulation bag and pulled out a rusty spoon. While Alan's disappointment was evident, Jimmy didn't know whether to envy or pity Alan's position. On the one hand, Alan was in a pretty bad position against somebody with an actual weapon, but then again, there was nothing tempting him to play. Jimmy looked at his sword, and the glint of the gray blade in the sun. He hoped that there wouldn't be any red joining that gray.

"Well, we have to at least get moving, what do you say we stick together for now Jimmy? We'll have to find a decent way to defend ourselves but we need to look for it. So what do you say?" Alan's voice brought Jimmy's attention back to the situation at hand. Jimmy looked at his map.

"I agree. Pretty much anywhere is good right now. There aren't any danger zones that I've heard of, and there's a pretty low chance of encountering somebody who's playing to win."

((Jimmy Robertson continued in Bump in the Night...))
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