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Bump in the Night
Topic Started: Aug 20 2010, 09:16 AM (4,158 Views)
Grim Wolf
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[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
(Introduction of David Meramac)

He had been awake for a little while--how long he couldn't stay. Consciousness had not been slow in returning to David Meramac; it had returned in one tremendous blow, a force that had rattled his brain within his skull. No accompanying haze of memories, either; he had come back to consciousness with full knowledge of what was happening around him, of exactly where he was.

He was on Survival of the Fittest. He and his classmates were going to be forced to kill each other, like every class before theirs.

He'd taken off running without a thought. He had never had much in the way of stamina--enough to keep up with the other cross country runners, never enough to surpass them. Anything past one mile was exhausting for him (then again, he trained doing nothing but miles, which might explain his weakness). In this case, he'd welcomed his own weakness; as he forced himself to keep running, unchecked duffel bouncing against his back, he was able to forget about his danger, forget about anything but the pounding of his feet against diffuse ground. Shouts, explosions, gunfire--he heard it all during his mad run.

Tried to think of none of it. Tried to think only of the burning ache in his muscles, the liquid magma in his veins. Tried not to here anything around him.

Thus it was that he ran through the Felled Forest without any thought as to how exposed he might be. Thus it was that, dripping with sweat and hair in disarray, he broke right into the midst of Julian Avery and Claire Lambert.
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Lizzie Luz: "I don't want to go."

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Grim Wolf
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[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"Gah!" David cried, flailing backward as the girl lifted her gun. "Don't shoot, it's--" Someone was running from one side. David's face tightened, his eyes squinting, and he lifted his arms in front of him. "Wait, wait!" he cried. "Please, don't...!"

As the panic lifted, he saw two people he thought he recognized. He and the boy, if he wasn't entirely mistaken, had talked with once or twice--Jake, or something? The girl he'd only seen around school, he had no idea what her actual name might be.

But the boy had a sword and the girl had a gun and they were pointing them at him and he wasn't a threat he could barely think and God what were they saying and what the hell am I doing here?

"It's me!" he squawked. "D-david...David Meramac!" In the course of his flailing he lost his balance and hit the ground, a piece of discarded wood digging deep into him as he landed. He winced, groaning to himself. "C-christ," he muttered, as the reverberating ache in his legs finally reached his pain and he slumped forwards. "Christ, are you going to kill me? I'm not going to hurt anybody, I don't think I even...here." He tore the bag off his shoulders and threw it at their feet, than hunched into a ball and pulled his knees to his face.

"If there's something good in there, it's yours," he said. "I h-haven't...haven't even looked, yet."
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V6 Players

Tara Behzad: "They don't get to decide how I die."

Lizzie Luz: "I don't want to go."

Alex Tarquin: "No more masks."

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Grim Wolf
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[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"...Pick it up Dave. We're not going to kill you...as long as you don't do anything stupid."

"Stupid, right," he laughed, eyes darting here and there. "Like running? Is running stupid? Can I run?"

He wasn't unaware of the fact that he was acting crazy. In point of fact, he was keenly aware of just how edged his every word sounds, of the nervous energy which cracked at his voice with every opportunity, like an elephant reluctantly penned or a tiger growling in its cage. He was frantic with it, to the point where his mind buzzed with staticky half-thoughts and his body actually twitched every now and again, barely held in place.

Someone had started screaming earlier, but David, held up at gun and sword point, and barely registered them. Alice--not hard to remember her name, she had a remarkably thick accent--had stumbled into them, followed shortly by Jimmy Robertson--the football player who'd gotten beat up earlier that year.

"Hey! Is everything okay?"

Julian didn't even bother checking to see if he was alright, but then there were a lot of people now. He hadn't meant to intrude...he didn't want to be with other people.

"G-good," he stammered, as it looked like he was in no danger of an immediate and very painful death. "That's...good." He slowly picked up his bag and lifted it over his shoulder. "I'll, uh...I'll leave."

He had only gone a few steps when he spied someone a little ways away. They had what was clearly a photograph in one hand and a map on their lap; Alan Rickhall, the kid who liked to act. Kinda quiet, and at the moment he looked a little distraught.

To his surprise, David discovered he had calmed since his encounter with the others--apparently, he thought, the corners of his lips twitching, he found something soothing in being threatened with weapons. "Hey," he called, approaching Alan. "Are, uh...are you okay?"

He understood about having your head in a mess. His thoughts still hadn't quieted, but it seemed the least he could do.
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Tara Behzad: "They don't get to decide how I die."

Lizzie Luz: "I don't want to go."

Alex Tarquin: "No more masks."

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Grim Wolf
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[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
David wished, dimly, that he could be more comforting. That he could tell the other boy it was okay, that he didn't have to pray for him, that they'd both survive and everything would be fine. Alan Rickhall was cracking up, and David wished he could be strong enough to sustain them both.

But he couldn't. In fact, Alan's weakness was at that moment freaking David out even more.

"They're good people," he managed, his throat tight. "They...they let me go. Even gave me my bag back." He hefted it, not smiling.

Jimmy appeared, introduced himself. Without thinking David took his hand, smiling. "Hey, Jimmy," David managed. "It's good to see you." He was looking at his feet, shifting uncomfortably; how many had died in the past few hours? How many more would die? And here was Alan Rickhall, praying.

Well, David had never been the religious type, and had probably made one too many cracks about God in his time to feel entirely comfortable with his own salvation. "Thanks," he said to Alan. "For, uh...for prayin' for me." He got to his feet, feeling jittery, on edge; he didn't want to be with these people, didn't want to get attached to him. If he got attached...

No one sticks around. Don't stick around.

"I'm sorry," he said slowly. "But I gotta run."

And he took off into the forest, relishing the burn in his muscles that erased all need for thought.

(David Meramac continued in Your Cross to Bear)
Edited by Grim Wolf, Sep 26 2010, 08:48 PM.
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V6 Players

Tara Behzad: "They don't get to decide how I die."

Lizzie Luz: "I don't want to go."

Alex Tarquin: "No more masks."

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