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Darkness Within; Morning of Day 2
Topic Started: Sep 19 2010, 12:25 AM (1,616 Views)
armeggedonCounselor
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[ *  *  *  * ]
((Janet Binachi continued from Regrets.))
((Note for those trying to figure out timelines: Janet arrives here slightly before Announcement 1, by about an hour. Adjust your summaries accordingly.))

Janet was exhausted by the time she entered the forest. The sun had gone down hours ago, but the moon was full and the ground was mostly lacking dangerous things to trip over. But now, she couldn't run anymore. She dropped her bags at the foot of a tree and quickly gathered some branches. It was important that she cover her little shelter enough that she would be mostly invisible until the morning. At least nobody else knew what had happened. It was between her and her conscience. With her crappy shelter made, Janet stripped off her clothing and pushed it into her daypack. It was silly, but she felt wrong sleeping in clothing. She laid down under the shelter, closed her eyes, and promptly fell asleep.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

Janet woke, sitting up groggily and whacking her head against the tree. Unsurprisingly, SoTF hadn't turned out to be a bad dream. She heard words being said, but mostly ignored them. Unimportant.

And then she heard her name.

She sat up again sharply, hitting her head again. She cursed and tried to figure out what had been said. Slowly, her brain figured it out. Danya had listed her as the killer of Everett. God dammit. Janet stood, cursing to herself over the announcement. Still, she hoped enough people would have trouble applying a face to the name. Hopefully.

She flipped her hair back, rummaged in Everett's daypack and pulled out his food. A thought struck her. She delved back in, looking for the gun he had said he had. But... nothing. "He was lying. Dammit," Janet muttered. That meant she didn't even have a crappy selfish reason for killing him. Everett's death now functioned solely as her foot-in-the-door. The next one would be easier. The third one might not even make her nauseous.

Unbidden, Everett's face appeared in Janet's mind, making her stomach turn. She had never seen someone so... broken. The damage that the hockey stick did was... not surprising, really. Physics wasn't Janet's strong point, but she understood enough to know about leverage and surface area and all that shit. She felt her foot tingle as the sound of his crunching ribcage played itself over and over. Janet hugged her knees to herself, not noticing that she was still mostly naked. Her hunger had been replaced by a gnawing ball of guilt, trying to eat its way out of her body.

"I'm afraid, Grandpa," Janet whispered. "I'm afraid to lose myself to the darkness. When does killing stop being evil? Ten? Twenty? They say 19 people died yesterday.... They should have said twenty. I am no longer people, I am no longer a student. I am a murderer. And... I'm not giving up, Grandpa. I will win, and make it home. I will make sure that the death I commit has a nobler purpose."

Janet looked up, at the slowly rising sun. "Danya. I will play your game. But I won't let you win this time. I'm going to see you destroyed. I swear it," she said, vehemence rising in her voice.

With her piece said and her conscience successfully conned, Janet turned back to her breakfast.
Edited by armeggedonCounselor, Sep 19 2010, 02:16 AM.
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Janet looked up sharply as the voice called out, derisive and mocking. Or was that her own editorial twist, a product of her mind to make what she had done, and was going to do, seem justified? She couldn't tell the difference anymore. The girl had stopped a distance away, and was talking about... paint? What the hell?

"In answer to your first question, yes, saving my own life is a noble purpose- to me, at least. However the noble purpose I was referring to had more to do with my plot to get revenge on Danya. Which, I realize, is cold comfort to a soon to be corpse. In answer to your second question, no, I don't have any paint. I don't imagine it would be easy to find, although the Groundskeeper might have some, although I imagine it would not be of a quality one would use for painting art," Janet said, stalwartly pretending that it was perfectly normal to have a civil conversation like this while she was wearing only her underclothes.

She failed to keep up the charade, and, seemingly nonchalantly, turned her back on the apparently unarmed person. Still, she tensed slightly as she bent down to gather her clothes from her bag. She dressed with her back still turned, ears pricked for the sound of movement.

As she finished dressing, she grabbed her weapon and turned to face the girl again.
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Janet was a little taken aback by the question. Sure, vowing to kill Danya assuaged the pain of her tortured conscience, but it never occurred to her that it may not be as simple as find him and bash him with the hockey stick until the red flowed freely. Janet quickly organized her thoughts and spoke, haughtily.

"I know enough. I know that he is the leader of an organization that kidnapped us. I know that he is probably one of America's most wanted criminals. I know that... he could be found by hacking into the local area network that these camera's are on or something. I'm pretty sure they upload these videos to the internet, so the IP address could be tracked."

She would have continued, but a sharp crack rang out somewhere nearby. Tight nerves caused Janet to drop to the ground and roll up to her knees, Hockey stick in a ready position.

"Who's there?!"
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Janet watched the observer run off, then stood. She casually hooked the shoulder strap of her daypack with the stick, leaning it over her shoulder as she turned to the other girl.

"You caught me in a good mood. I'm not going to pursue you, or try and kill you. There is nothing in it for me- I at least still have that much humanity left. Good day."

And with that, Janet turned and set off at a light jog. She didn't know where she was going, although she would have to be wary of Danger Zones. And other players. But danger zones were a more pressing danger, as she would get no warning if she set foot in one. Just a popping sound, and then sweet death.

That would not be conducive to her plans.

((Janet Binachi continued in The Various Downsides Of Becoming "Paranoid as Balls".))
Edited by armeggedonCounselor, Oct 24 2010, 07:15 PM.
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