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No Rest for the Wicked; Private thread
Topic Started: Sep 11 2010, 12:44 PM (2,010 Views)
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The Fiorious One
[ *  *  *  * ]
((Maxwell Lombardi continued from The Right Thing for the Wrong Reasons))

Being forced to spend the night in a dark cave wasn't exactly the highlight of Maxwell Lombardi's life. Not that he really had much of a choice...

After leaving the chaos of the Gazebo far behind him, he'd spent the rest of the day wondering aimlessly through the woods looking for a place of refuge for the night. After all, if he was going to make it off this island alive then he'd need an opportunity to actually get his thoughts straight. Making things up as he went along would only get him killed in the end... It didn't do him any good back at the Gazebo, that's for sure.

According to the crude map they'd been given, there seemed to be a building marked as the "Ranger Station" somewhere in the middle of island. Whilst it wasn't exactly a luxurious mansion, it'd probably have to do given the circumstances. Besides, Maxwell was certain that it'd be nice and empty... No unwanted visitors popping up from out of nowhere like at that damn Gazebo.

But, as time wore on and the forest began to dissipate and disappear, it quickly became evident to Maxwell that he'd strayed far from his original course. This was later confirmed when he found himself standing in the middle of a beach, staring across the endless ocean that stood before him with a mixture of awe and irritation. Damnit! I really ought to learn how to read a bloody map one of these days...

He considered heading back to look for the ranger station again, but the fact that the sun had gone down put him off the idea of heading back into the woods again. After his little encounter, he had very little trust for the rest of the residents on this island. Chances are, the woods were probably full of people setting up ambushes for any unwary traveller who just so happened to be passing by... Besides, he was way too exhausted from his little trek anyway. It'd much easier to just look for shelter somewhere along the beach, like a wooden shack or something...

So, despite his exhaustion and desperate longing to just collapse and fall asleep right there and then, he forced himself to continued along the beach until he finally came across somewhere he could temporarily call "home". He continued on for what felt like hours on end, the night sky fulled to the brim with bright stars illuminating his long and seemingly endless journey. Eventually, he found it in the form of a rather bleak and uninviting cave in the side of an rocky cliff...

Really... I mean, really? A CAVE of all places? Whats next, a lioncloth and a pointed stick?

*Sigh* Oh well, I suppose it IS slightly better then freezing to death...

With this in mind, he'd quickly made his way into the dark cave and set about finding the most comfortable spot to sleep for the night, using his jacket as a temporary blanket and his duffle bag as a temporary pillow. The cave itself was fairly small, barely a few metres wide and barely tall enough for Maxwell to stand upright without his head banging against the ceiling. After he'd found a spot which was comfy enough for him to lie down on without immediately complaining, it didn't take long for him to fall into a deep slumber...

That was several hours ago... Now, as the sun shone brightly outside to signal the start of a new day, Maxwell found himself regretting his decision almost immediately. After all, sleeping on a slab of rock was an... uncomfortable experience, to say the least. The fact that Maxwell was more used to sleeping under far more exquisite conditions made being reduced to using a cave as a place of refuge all the more embarrassing for the spoiled boy. Well, may as well help myself to something to eat...

He quickly got himself up, dusting off his black shirt before retrieving a loaf from his duffle bag to serve as a quick breakfast. He took a bite out of it, flinching as the dull tasting bread slid down his throat. Not that there was anything particularly wrong with the loaf, its just that having been brought up by a wealthy family meant that Maxwell had wealthy tastes. So to be forced to eat some of the most tasteless bread he'd ever had in order to survive was something that infuriated Maxwell to no end.

Good god, I can't believe what I've been reduced to... It was only a few days ago that I was dining in La Belle Vie, eating one of the most sumptuous meals I've ever had in one of the most stunning restaurants I've ever been to... And now look where I am, huddled in a cave like some crazed nomad eating a rather unimaginative loaf of bread... The sooner I get out of this damned hellhole, the better...

At that point, a distinctive sound resonated across the island. A metallic screeching sound like the kind made by megaphone... It didn't take long for Maxwell to realise what was happening when he heard Danya's voice begining to list those who'd died over the past 24 hours.

Oh yes, now I remember... They have these announcements every morning don't they? Typical... Wow, 19 deaths in one day? Ouch....

He listened intensely to the names of those listed, especially after it turned out that they told the names of the killers alongside those of the victims. Not that he thought he'd recognize any... Apart from Reiko and Vera (And MAYBE Reiko's Chinese girlfriend... Whatever her name was anyway) he didn't really know the names of any of his fellow classmates. Still, at least this way he'd have a better idea who to look out for then he would normally...

Wait, what? Did he just say... No, that was Reik-A Ishida, not Reik-O Ishida... Huh, didn't realise she had a twin sister...

Wait... Did he just say Reiko then actually managed to KILL someone? TWO people at that! Good lord, really? Huh, didn't think she'd have it in her... Sure, she was an insufferable cow and everything, but who'd of thought behind that harsh exterior lay the heart of a true psycho-bitch...

Admittedly, he couldn't help but find himself chuckling along with some of Danya's little jokes about the other students. As much as he hated the man for forcing them to fight each other to the death and everything, you couldn't deny the fact that the guy had a decent sense of humour. The quip about Paige Strand in particular brought quite a smile to his face. Although the joke about the "extra crispy Daniel Vaughan in the molotov sauce" brought him nothing but horrid memories of the event... So, Nick Reid was the name of the bastard I let get away huh? Hmm, perhaps I should be taking notes...

After writing down both the dangerzones AND the names of the apparent killers on the back of the map, he decided to head outside and get some fresh air in order to clear his mind. After all, he had a long day ahead of him... What with planning his escape and everything. No point in trying to get away if you never actually sit down and THINK about how you're going to get away in the first place.

With this in mind, he casually headed out through the cave entrance into the open, shielding his sensitive eyes from the recently arisen sun. He yawned loudly as he creaked his aching back, glad to finally be out of that accursed cavern as he loosened his red tie in the sunlight. It was an undoubtedly beautiful day that morning... The sun was shining brightly in the lightly clouded sky, the sea rocked back and forth in a hypnotic yet pleasant fashion...

...And standing right there in front of him was some bastard wielding a shotgun.

Oh, you have GOT to be joking...
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The Fiorious One
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Quite frankly, Maxwell couldn't think of a more frustrating moment in his entire life.

Barely hours after surviving the fiasco back at the gazebo, and already he was under threat once again. This time from some skinny blond-haired bastard who just so happened to have a rather large gun at his disposal. He didn't seem particularly dangerous at first... Insipid, yes. But not dangerous... It wasn't until he started pointing his shotgun at Maxwell that he went from being a mere nuisance to an actual threat. Why, the little bastard...

"Now now, lets not do anything rash..." he said calmly, putting his hands up as he did so. To say Maxwell was infuriated at the idea of being at this curly-haired prick's mercy would have been a heinous understatement. It would of been bad enough if he was being threatened by some hulking 7ft tall monster. At least then you could take solace in the fact that at least you were at the mercy of someone who was genuinely threatening. But to be at the mercy of this... This... This complete and utter SIMPLETON! That was just painful...

"Right, Maxwell. I don't know if you remember me, but I remember you. I have no intention of hurting you."

"That's, uh, good to hear..." Do I actually KNOW this punk then? His face does ring a bell, now that you mention it... Ah what the hell, it probably doesn't even matter...

It was then that it suddenly occurred to Maxwell that Blondie here could very well be one of killers mentioned in the announcement earlier. After all, it DID mention about at least two guys who'd shot people in cold blood... Was this asshole one of them?

No, that'd just be silly. Surely if he was a player he'd of just shot Maxwell by now... Obviously, he had some ulterior motives in mind... But... what?

"Just....throw over your bag, everything will be a-okay."

......Ahhh...Now it ALL makes sense...

Seems Blondie wasn't a player after all. No, instead he was something far worse... A thief. A spineless coward who steals from others who're weaker then them in some desperate hope to stay alive whilst the rest of the island rots away and goes to hell around them. These kind of players were, to Maxwell, the lowest of the low. At least killers were actually trying to do the practical thing in ending the game as quickly as possible... But thieves? They don't care how long things have to go on for as long as they get the chance to pray on the weak and helpless for their precious supplies... And frankly, that just sickened Maxwell to the bone.

Who the hell do you think you are, trying to steal from ME of all people! You're just a pathetic loser, a complete and utter NOBODY! So how DARE you think you can just wave around a shotgun and receive free gifts as a prize for your efforts! I don't care if you're armed or not, theres no way in hell i'm letting a punk like you anywhere near my stuff... Not in a million fucking years......

Still, that didn't change the fact that Blondie WAS actually armed, and probably quite dangerous. Scaring him off wouldn't be easy, especially seeing as Maxwell hadn't a single thing on him. That was when he noticed something odd about the kid...

Is it just me, or does he seem somewhat... Anxious? Come to think of it, he's trembling all over... And here I thought I was scared! This guy on the other hand is practically terrified by comparison!

Hmm... Perhaps I could use that to my advantage......

Slowly, but surely, a menacing smirk began to form on his face as he lowered his hands into his pockets. He stood there with a sense of unyielding confidence about him, chuckling lightly to himself as his eyes bore into Dougal's. After all, if he was to assert his dominance over the weak minded imbecile in front of him he would have to show no fear in the face of certain danger. Show him how he wasn't afraid of any puny weapons hay may have hidden up his sleeve... It was mostly a bluff, yes, but if there was anything in the world Maxwell was good at it was taking advantage of idiots like Blondie here...

"Well, I have to say, that's quite a proposal there... I give you my bag, with all my worldly possessions in it, and in return you promise to NOT blow me away? Am I correct?"

That's it Maxwell old boy... Show him whose REALLY in control of the situation here...

"Well, I hate to be a be the bearer of bad news and all that, but I'm afraid that's just not possible... For you see, believe it or not, if I were to give you that bag it'd mean that I'LL have to spend the rest of the island without any supplies... And I don't think EITHER of us want that to happen now, do we?"

He punctuated this remark with an especially smug-looking grin on his otherwise attractive face.

"Now, don't start waving that silly gun around like you're in some action movie or something... We both know you don't have the balls to actually use it, not unless you were forced to defend yourself anyway. So as long as I just stand here, YOU can't do anything about it... Unless you're okay with the idea of becoming a cold-blooded murderer. Something I doubt either you OR any of your family watching this from home would be particularly comfortable about..."

He was on a roll now, and he knew it. This idiot was eating right out of his hand! All he'd have to do now is convince him that even if he DID try to attack Maxwell, he could easily dodge out of the way in time and strike back before Blondie even knew what hit him! Well, he assumed he could anyway... If all hell broke loose, he could PROBABLY disarm this prick without much hassle...

It was at that point that he came up with a particularly harsh thing to say to the already distressed boy in front of him... Hmm, would I be going too far if I said that? Oh hell, why not... I doubt the bastard even HAS a girlfriend...

"...I mean, you wouldn't want to give any sluts waiting on you back home even MORE reasons as to why they shouldn't bother waiting for the inevitable to happen when theres a perfectly attractive bodybuilder just waiting for them across the street......"
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The Fiorious One
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"Listen here, you fucking shithead"

... Wait, what?

He'd anticipated that there would be SOME kind of reaction from the gutless cretin in front of him. After all, it was only natural for people to retort after being on the receiving end of a particularly sharp comment such as the one Maxwell just made... But on the other hand, he hadn't anticipated just how FEROCIOUS his reaction would be...

There wasn't really any way of describing it... He just EXPLODED on the spot, suddenly going into a lengthy rant at Maxwell about how he apparently DID have a girlfriend after all... Jesus, who'd of thought anyone would have actually wanted to go anywhere NEAR this basement dweller let alone go out with this prick! To make matters worse, from the sound of things he and this slut had already met before... Blondie didn't elaborate as to where exactly, but according to him Maxwell had apparently been flirting with this mystery girl until Blondie came along and ruined it for him. Whilst he hadn't any recollection of the event itself, he didn't have any reason to believe it DIDN'T happen... After all, whilst for the most part he avoided flirting with the women of Bayview (Apart from a certain lying cow who shall remain nameless...) he'd often tried his luck with some of the OTHER girls in St Paul to varying degrees of success. And events such as the one Blondie was referring to happened to be something of a common occurrence. Although, he hadn't quite "run away like a pussy" as Blondie put so bluntly...

The longer Blondie went on insulting him like this, the more reasons he had for despising the infuriating bastard. Not ONLY was he accusing him of being such things as sexist, spoilt, cowardly and a complete scumbag... But he also had to go ahead and insult his own COUNTRY of all things! A country with far more class and complexity than this philistine's pathetic excuse of a nation could even DREAM of! And this lowlife thinks he has any right to mock him because of that?

Personally, he'd had enough of this nonsense...

"Now... LISTEN here......" he said in a menacingly venomous tone of voice... But before he could continue, the blond-haired boy had already began to continue his relentless tirade once more. This time with thrice the amount of vicious energy as before...

For the first time since he'd come across this shotgun-wielding boy, Maxwell was actually starting to become afriad... Before, when he seemed to just be some nervous wreck who hadn't the slightest clue what he was doing, Maxwell thought that he could control him through persuasion and smoothly spoken words... But now it finally seemed clear to Maxwell that his little plan had backfired majorly. He realised now that he'd pushed this boy too far... WAY too far... And unless he was careful, the stupid bastard might accidentally try to......

"...But, yeah, you don't think I have fucking balls? FUCK. YOU."


It all happened way too fast... He should have dodged. Should have tried to roll out of the way or run back into the cave or ANYTHING. But in all the confusion, all he did at that moment was close his eyes and make a pathetic attempt at blocking the inevitable gunshot with his equally defenceless arms.



.......Am I... Dead?

He slowly opened his eyes, lowering his arms so that he may get a proper view of the situation. As implausible as it was, it seemed as though he was unharmed. Well, physically unharmed anyway... The gunshot had completely missed, bar a few pellets which had embedded themselves in the stone wall right next to where Maxwell was standing. Blondie was no longer shouting obscenities at him, mainly due to the fact that he was now laying helplessly on his back with a pained expression on his face.

My god... He... He nearly SHOT me! Could have flat out KILLED me right there and then! The only reason i'm still alive now is because of sheer dumb luck... I...... I should be dead right now! There should be a huge gaping hole in my chest! But there isn't! I'm still alive! I'M STILL ALIVE! And so is... so is......

......So is he.

By that point, the initial shock of what had just happened finally wore off... Replaced instead with a an unnatural rage unlike any Maxwell had ever felt before in his entire life. Back at the gazebo, Reiko had managed to greatly offend him by calling him something as simple and petty as an ass. But Blondie? He'd successfully managed to enrage Maxwell to a point that no other man or woman had ever achieved before... Not ONLY had he insulted Maxwell in almost every conceivable way possible, which in itself was enough to piss him off on a major scale... But he had actually tried to KILL HIM! Shoot him dead on the spot! And he would have too, if Maxwell hadn't been so damn lucky......

How dare he... How DARE he! Does he have ANY. FUCKING. IDEA who the hell he was just SHOOTING AT?!? Who does he think he is? WHO THE FUCK DOES HE THINK HE IS!?!

He should have just left Dougal there. Should have just headed back inside and grabbed his stuff, making a run for it before Blondie had the chance to get back up at fire at him once again. But by that point, Maxwell Lombardi was far too furious to think things through. Far too enraged to consider his alternative options... His blood was boiling, his vision red with sheer rage. All he wanted to do was slaughter this infuriating son-of-a-bitch and end this once and for all, with his own bare hands if need be...

And sure enough, thats exactly what he did next.

"You...... Fucking...... CUNT!!!"

And on that note, he just sprinted towards his enemy's prone body and literally pounced on top of him, grabbing his fragile neck with an iron grip. He clenched onto it tightly, blocking the oxygen from entering the poor boy's windpipe. His fiery eyes bore into Dougal's, his primal expression that of pure unadulterated hate as his grip got tighter and tighter. His victim struggled, trying desperately to get Maxwell off of him before he finally choked to death. But Maxwell was far too enraged by this point to be shaken off so easily, far too dedicated to snuffing out this idiotic sap's pathetic life to let anything distract him from doing so...

It wouldn't be long now until Blondie stopped moving, until what little was left of his miserable life was finally extinguished... And all Maxwell had to do was hold on patiently until the job was done.
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The Fiorious One
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It was quite something, really, realising that you've just choked another living person to death with your own bare hands. For most people, the initial reaction upon realising this would be to feel immensely guilty with themselves. To be repulsed by what they had just done, about how they had just ended another man's life in such a brutal and inhuman manner. To be sickened by the sheer ramifications of the crime they had just committed. To undo what they had just done so that they may try and reconcile before it was too late...

But at that moment, Maxwell felt none of those things.

He was shocked alright, no doubt about it. But not with the fact that he'd just ended another human being's life... But with how he felt about it afterwords.

Because at that moment, Maxwell felt good.

Earlier, he had always assumed that he'd never be able to take the stress of having committed murder. That the sheer emotional turmoil that it would bring would be enough to break him down into nothing. But the thing is, he DIDN'T feel stressed from what he'd just done. If anything, he felt even better. It had been so exhilarating! The sheer adrenaline rush of taking another man's life away from him! The power of doing away with another person's life as he saw fit! He hadn't had this much fun since he first arrived here...

...THAT was what shocked him most of all.

This can't be right... Shouldn't I be freaking out right about now? That's what's usually supposed to happen, right? I mean... I SHOULD be feeling guilty for this filthy sod... But i'm not! Good god, i'm not! The horrid little bastard had it coming! I couldn't imagine a far more appropriate end for the insipid lowlife...

But... Damnit, what does this mean?!? I'm not a monster! Sure, i'll be the first to admit I can somewhat harsh on occasion... But surely I can't actually be enjoying this? Only a complete psychopath would... would.....

He had to get away. FAR away. As far away as he could from this accursed island before he lost what little left of his morality there was left... He'd already killed, nothing could change that now... And unless he got away soon, there was not a hint of doubt in his mind that he'd be tempted to do it again... And again... and agai.......

"Nice work there. I was concerned that you wouldn't go through with it,"

...What the devil!?!

He turned his head over to see the last thing he could have possibly wanted to see at that moment... Namely some fat baseball cap wearing retard aiming yet ANOTHER fucking gun at him.

You. Have. Got. To. Be. Fucking. KIDDING!

"You know, I'm happy that there are others on this island with the killer instinct. I was worried that we'd all be a bunch of pansies, and that wouldn't be fun for the people at home, would it?"

This guy... He just HAD to pick now to be the time to start being a smartass with Maxwell. It had only been a few seconds ago that Maxwell had just killed another man in cold blood, and already he was strongly tempted to do it again. This guy... Within a few seconds he had already signed his death warrant the minute he opened his big mouth. Only problem however, was how Maxwell was going to deal with him... There was a shotgun barely a few feet away from him. Perhaps he could try and make a dash for it or something...

"What's your point?" he replied through gritted teeth, a hateful scowl on his face.

"Heh...So, I'll cut to the chase here. I don't know who you are, and I really REALLY don't care. The point is that you, sir, are going to be the starting point for my career on this island. No hard feelings, right?"

Then, almost immediately after the fat slob had finished his arrogant statement, he dropped the gun by accident. YES! Now's my chance!

Maxwell was fast, and he didn't waste any time as he sprinted towards the bastard who dared threaten him the second the gun touched the sand. With all the energy and effort Maxwell could possibly muster, he gave the fat slob a well deserved pummel to the face, knocking him head over heels onto the rocky beach before he even knew what hit him. Then, as he lay there bruised and defenceless, all it took was for Maxwell to pick up the the discarded pistol and aim it at him until the tables were finally turned.

Just like with Blondie, Maxwell COULD have just left him there to rot. Could have just told him to go as far away as possible, never to come back. Done what most people would call to be the moral thing to do in this situation... But right now, Maxwell wasn't in the mood for mercy. Wasn't in the mood for letting yet another bastard get away with crossing him like he had by the gazebo. He was already on another adrenaline rush, the desire to snuff out this tool coursing through his veins.

So, rather then let the oafish buffoon go, Maxwell simply smirked and aimed the gun's sights right between the fat bastard's eyes.

No hard feelings, right?

"No... None at all." he said, shortly before pulling the trigger.

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The Fiorious One
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For the first time since he'd arrived on the island, Maxwell Lombardi began to truly think about the situation he was in.

He stood there for another minute or so, his newly acquired handgun still aimed at the lifeless body of Harold Fisher. Fresh blood was already starting to pour from the fat bastard's forehead, staining the sandy ground he was sprawled upon. Even in death, he still had that same smug expression on his face that just made Maxwell want to beat the living shit out of him (Which, thankfully, he had a chance to do shortly before finishing him off). But even so, as he lay there motionless Maxwell almost felt sorry for the unlucky sod... Well, until he recalled the exact reason why he'd killed him in the first place. Then, the only feeling he felt as he observed the arrogant prick's rotting corpse was a very exhilarating feeling of satisfaction.

He still couldn't believe that he'd actually gone through with it... Barely ten or so minutes ago he was sitting down in a lonely cave, trying to think up ideas for how he could make it off this rock in one piece. Never had he expected at the time that within the hour he'd end up becoming the very thing he'd been criticising people like Nick Reid over. Not that he felt particularly guilty about it. After all, they HAD both tried (Or at least intended) to kill him first, so why the hell should he be the one feeling sorry? THEY started it, so Maxwell finished it. Simple, really...

But that still left one ominous question unanswered... What now?

Ever since he'd arrived here, his only goal had been to get off the island without being forced to play along with Danya's little "game"... Why should he be forced against his will into becoming a mass murderer who'll only be chastised the moment he got home? Not that he doubted his ability to win or anything. Far from it in fact. He was almost 100% certain that if he really wanted, he could take down the rest of this inept island with his hands tied behind his back...

...So what's stopping him from doing just that?

He knew that there was no turning back now. In about a day's time, everyone on the island would be aware of what he'd done thanks to the morning announcement ruining everything. His cover would be completely blown, and as far as the rest of the island was concerned he would be a cold-blooded serial killer. Hell, he'd sealed his fate the moment he strangled a living man to death on live TV! Even IF he managed to find a way to escape, he'd still be branded as a murderer the moment he got home. Nothing could change that now, not after what he'd just done.

So why not go all-out and get it all over and done with sooner? The only real reason he could come up with against it was the fact that it'd mean playing right into Danya's hands.

Then again... What other option do I really have? Now that I think about it, how on earth WOULD I have been able to get off this rock in one piece anyway? I've been here for an entire day, and I've not come up with a single plausible idea. Not a single one! They've all either been too contrived, too difficult to realistically achieve or just too damn well predictable for it to have not already been considered. The very fact that they could execute us whenever they want to makes it virtually impossible anyway... So the only real option other then playing along would be to lay down and die like a coward. Something I have no intention of doing any time soon...

Besides... Perhaps I've been looking at this from then wrong perspective. Is it REALLY that foolish a goal to try and survive by any means necessary? Surely having the mental fortitude to do whatever it takes must be an admirable trait? So why should I of all people believe that those who play along are the weak ones in this situation? No, of course not... The weak ones are those who choose to just keep running until somebody inevitably ends it and puts a bullet squarely between their eyes. They're the real sheep here, not the players. And I'm not a sheep now, am I? No... Far from it...

The more he thought about it, the more ridiculous his earlier excuse seemed. Perhaps deep down he knew all along that there was no real way for him to escape the island without killing SOMEBODY, and the only thing that was actually stopping him from doing so was fear. Fear of what kind of effect committing murder would have on his psyche, that he would literally go mad the second he took another man's life. Who knows, maybe he already had and just didn't realise it yet. Either way, he knew now that his own conscience wouldn't be a problem here. If anything, killing those two morons relieved far more stress then it caused. Hell, he hadn't felt this good since the first time he'd beaten somebody using Muay Thai! The sense of superiority as your opponent begs for mercy... The adrenaline rush as you go in for the kill... And the feeling of satisfaction as you finally deliver the killing blow... Personally, Maxwell loved every second of it.

A smile crept upon his face as he finally lowered the gun, his attention still fixated on the cadaver in front of him. It was clear to him now what he had to do in order to survive on this island, what he had to do in order to make it back to civilisation alive and well. He'd left that cave in order to get his thoughts straight and decide what to do next... And sure enough, thats exactly what he did in the end.

Alright Danya, I'll play your little game for now... Not for you of course, but for myself. After all, theres no way I'm letting myself die at the hands of some weak-minded lunatic who happened to have a submachinegun on him... I'll make it out of here alive, and if everybody on this stinking island has to die before that's possible... Then so be it.

And who knows... Maybe if I'm given a chance, even if its just a small and minuscule chance... Then perhaps I might even have a shot at offing the big man himself for putting me in this situation in the first place... Yes, I quite like the sound of that.

Still, I'm thinking ahead of myself...

On that note, he stepped forwards and picked up Harold's dufflebag, casually throwing it over his shoulder. On his way back to the cave, he stopped for a moment to pick up both Blondie's dufflebag and discarded shotgun as well, carrying all the equipment back inside where he was wasn't out in the open.

Whilst inside, he quietly went about unzipping the bags and emptying the contents into his own. At least, the contents he needed anyway (Such as rations, ammunition, extra batteries for the flashlight, ect...). After zipping it back up, he threw his white jacket back on and carefully placed the pistol into one of the inside pockets where he could easily whip it out whenever he needed to. He then took the opportunity to consider whether or not it would be a bright idea to take the shotgun along with him... After all, he saw what could happen to someone who fired such a thing without bracing themselves first. Still, it'd be such a waste to just leave it here to rust when the tide comes along. Besides, he was in much better shape then Blondie was, and as long as he made sure to brace himself for the strong recoil he should be fine.

So in the end, he decided to take the shotgun along with him anyway as he triumphantly left the beach with his dufflebag hoisted over his shoulder. He didn't have any specific destination in mind, or anybody in particular he would look out for (Although he did make a mental note to finish what he started with that cock Nick Reid should they ever cross paths again...). But nevertheless, he was confident that it wouldn't be long until he finally found exactly what he was looking for... Whatever that was.

As he was barely a kilometre or so away from the beach, he couldn't help but stop in his tracks as he came across a camera watching him from a nearby tree. A cruel idea began to form as he stared back at the blank lens that was observing his every movement, one which he just couldn't resist putting into action...

"I know what you must think of me, and to be truly honest I don't blame you. But just so you know, its been an absolute pleasure teaching your son some manners... Not that he'll ever get a chance to actually practice them, mind you, but at least he died knowing who'll be the one who makes it off this damned rock in once piece. And to whoever it was who that blond imbecile referred to as his girlfriend, may I add that I am deeply sorry for your loss... After all, if that idiot hadn't gotten in the way of things we may have been able to spend quite a pleasurable night together."

He waited for another second or so before he spoke again, allowing what he said to seat in. *Sigh* Its an awful shame I can't see what their reactions are. I'm sure there must be quite a couple of people yelling obscenities at their television sets right about now. Still, they're going to hate my guts no matter what I do, so why should I waste my breath trying to justify myself in front of them? Besides, this is WAY more entertaining... Anyway, may as well wrap this all up...

"Now then, I'm afraid I must bid you all adieu. I look forward to meeting the rest of your children, siblings, lovers, friends and what not. And I'm sure they're looking forward to meeting me as well..."

A callous smirk formed on his mouth as he gave the camera one final stare, the heavy shotgun resting on his shoulder.

"...Enjoy the show." And on that note, he continued on his way at a leisurely pace.

((Maxwell Lombardi continued in Walk the Line))
Edited by Fiori, Feb 8 2011, 07:41 AM.
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