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Bloodgarden; An endless dedication... (CONTENT WARNING)
Topic Started: Dec 24 2010, 06:47 PM (12,064 Views)
Little Boy
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[ *  *  *  *  * ]
((Dutchy continues from Streita))

Dutchy weaved his way through the woods, cautiously shuffling from tree to tree. He was by no means quiet, snapping quite a few branches along the way, but for what it was worth he was trying. Without Roland around for company, Dutchy had finally realized just how vulnerable he was. If anyone wanted too, they could kill him in seconds. In Roland’s shadow he’d been safe. Out of it, the forest took on a whole new level of menace.

But that’s why I left. I can’t stand behind him.

He continued on his way, stopping briefly near a stream, struggling to scrub off some of the now stained puke from his shirt. A deep shame had filled him since his ‘incident’, as he was now calling it. A suicide attempt in truth and a near success had it not been for a timely gunshot. His throat was still burning from the acidic puke, and his forehead was still throbbing from smashing it earlier… Constant cruel reminders of what his life had become. There were no attempts to hide it now.

Dutchy needed to die.

Some students had become monsters, done unspeakable things he couldn’t believe they were capable of, not in his wildest dreams. There was no hope for any of them, for as long as they’d live, Survival of the Fittest would be with them, tearing them apart from the inside out. The game was like a slow and fatal cancer, burning in his guts. Dutchy knew there was no life for him passed the game. Death would be his only escape, and better to take the plunge sooner rather then later. With time came fear, and with fear came hesitation. The thought of dying in terror, struggling in vain to escape his demise… That wasn’t what he wanted. Last words, prayers, and his friends far away... As painless as possible, as quickly as possible. Dutchy had fallen quickly, and his wounds were a testament to that. Any longer and well…

If he wasn’t Dutchy any longer, what could he possibly become given a day or two?

Dutchy shivered, picking up the pace. There was a clearing nearby; the trees began to thin out. He couldn’t see clearly enough, but there looked to be more then the usual green foliage. The gunman? He walked forward, his heart beating skittishly in his chest.

Why am I doing this? It won’t solve anything.

He wished he knew the answer to the question. If it hadn’t been for the noise, he’d be dead by now, just another body in the forest. Instead, the most violent noise he could imagine had indeed saved his life, if only for the time being. It was a disturbing thought, and Dutchy felt sickened even thinking it. It wasn’t like him, and he felt ashamed.

If I find them, maybe they’ll shoot me. Maybe that’s why I’m walking.

The bushes began to clear up ahead. He still wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at, but it looked to be a camp ground of some sort. Perhaps a group had banded together, set up in the woods? His pace quickened as he approached, anticipation rising up, pushing aside his dismal thoughts, if only for the second. Someone was moving, doing what Dutchy wasn’t exactly sure. Another student wearing a long sleeved red shirt, with reddish hair and crimson…

Dutchy stepped into the clearing, and his heart stopped beating. He could feel a tremble begin to build through his body, starting in his legs and soon spreading throughout his tiny frame. His eyes went wide, taking in the horrors around him and his lip began to tremble, his mouth stuck half-way open. Somewhere he knew Danya was watching the proceedings, laughing with crazed glee. The figure turned toward him. Dutchy fell to his knees, letting out an anguished moan.

“Hvaða hafa þú?”

Dutchy had just wanted to die. Locking eyes with Liam Brooks, he knew his prayers would soon be answered.
Edited by Little Boy, Apr 1 2011, 09:45 PM.
V5
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Oswaldo Marx --> "Chicks dig scars? Yeah, I'm calling bullshit." --> Cicada Nights
Mikko "Mike" Korhonen --> "Interesting, very interesting!" --> A Casual Question
V4 / Mini's
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Quote:
 
"My dick did the Mexican Hat Dance and I had to suppress the moan that wanted to escape." - Casey


NOTE TO SELF: Burns on the left side. LEFT SIDE.
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Little Boy
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[ *  *  *  *  * ]
"You had the funniest name in school, but I just can't remember... um, help me out here. What was it, again?"

He couldn't stop shaking. The figure stood in the middle of the clearing, drenched in gore. Dutchy wanted to throw up at the sight, and his throat felt uncomfortably numb. His teeth chattering, refusing to work. He couldn't move. He couldn't breath. He couldn't for the life of him understand why. Bodies. There were bodies, the first time he'd seen someone dead on the island. Despite the terrifying sight right in front of him, the boy obviously out for blood, for the first few moments he couldn't remove his eyes from the bodies. And then it had hit him, like a ton of bricks right into his gut.

Vivien Morin. Or... what was left of him. Dutchy let out a harsh choking sob, his hands coming up and grabbing at his mouth, his eyes wide with fright. He hadn't stopped shaking, and the boy in front of him took a step forward, seemingly immune to the terror ripping through the small Icelandic boy.

What have you done...? Oh God, oh God, what have you done?

"M- my name. My name is Örn. But- but people like to call me Dutchy." He stammered after a long pause, his eyes wide and red rimmed, tears streaking down his cheeks.

"Do you- Do you- What happened...? Why- why-" He said, his words dying in his throat. He already knew the answer. Vivien Morin's killer stood right in front of him.

His heart beat faster in his chest, realizing the terrifying implications. His eyes darted back and forth between the boy and Vivien's fallen form, frantically, white hot terror building up through his bones. Images of Vivien filled his mind. Funny and bold, with passion in everything he took part in. A caring family, caring friends... He'd lent him a Superman comic once. Viv had talked on about fashion and an upcoming swim meet, but he'd promised to give it a read in his spare time, if only humor Dutchy.

And now the boy lay in the dirt, his eyes staring vacantly up towards the sky, his body broken, soaked in gore... He couldn't stop shaking. His stomach wouldn't stop tossing, his heart wouldn't stop pounding. This was it. This was the end.

"Viv. Why is... why'd you hurt Vivi?" He managed to say, his words coming out in choking sobs now.

The entire clearing suddenly felt very cool, the clouds above obscuring the sun from view. Standing in the shadows, the boy didn't resemble a human at all- his cheerful face, drenched in blood... He wasn't a classmate. A demon from the depths of hell, obscuring any last hope. Dutchy clasped his jittering hands together, running through his mind in search of a prayer.
V5
Posted Image Posted Image
Oswaldo Marx --> "Chicks dig scars? Yeah, I'm calling bullshit." --> Cicada Nights
Mikko "Mike" Korhonen --> "Interesting, very interesting!" --> A Casual Question
V4 / Mini's
Spoiler: click to toggle

Quote:
 
"My dick did the Mexican Hat Dance and I had to suppress the moan that wanted to escape." - Casey


NOTE TO SELF: Burns on the left side. LEFT SIDE.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Little Boy
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STICK IT IN ZEE BOOOOOOOT~~~~
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Dutchy couldn't think anymore. Everything the boy said, every word, was filled with raw malice, sick enjoyment at what he was doing. The boy's hand clamped down on Dutchy's shoulder, stronger then he thought possible. Dutchy jerked feebly, struggling to escape. It was no use. He was weak, too weak to defend himself. He was hopeless, completely at the mercy of his tormentor. The boy crouched down, smiling menacingly at Dutchy, an insane glimmer in his eyes. Dutchy was more afraid then he'd ever been in his life.

There was no sympathy in the boy's eyes, no remorse. The boy had seen past that, he was operating on an entirely different level, driven by something so alien there was no hope in Dutchy even attempting to comprehend. The boy was talking fast, maniacal and excited, gesturing to the terrifying sights around him, as if it were some twisted gallery, a shrine or art exhibit, the meaning lost on all but the creator. Dutchy couldn't take it. His heart was beating steadily faster, and his breathing came in quick panicked gulps, as if he were drowning.

"Look around you, Dutchy! No, really, look around you!"

And with that the boy was behind him, jerking him around, displaying the garden in all its glory. Dutchy struggled, not much, not enough. His eyes were wide, any chance of planning lost as he took in the horrific view. It was all too much. From deep within him, a high pitched whine escaped his lips. The boy ignored it, pushing him forward.

"Let's take a closer look so you can get a feel for my work!"

No. Oh God, oh no, please-

Dutchy dug his heels in, but it did him no good. The boy kept his firm grip, driving him ever closer to the bloodied form of Vivien sprawled across the ground. He had to escape. He couldn't take it anymore. What had he done to deserve this?

Please, please, please no-

Dutchy stood over top the downed boy, frantically kicking his legs, trying desperately to back up away from the corpse. Choking sobs were the only thing escaping his lips as he stared down into the vacant eyes of Vivien Moran. But the boy was having none of it. He was like a rock wall and despite his feeble attempts, the boy held him fast. Through the panic filled haze of his mind Dutchy realized the boy was laughing.

This can't be happening- this can't be happening!

"Plea-" He sobbed, his words cut off as the boy shoved him forward. Letting out a scream Dutchy toppled forward onto the corpse of his friend. His blood turned to ice. Dutchy began to scream again, a bloodcurdling noise, echoing throughout the surrounding forest. He scrambled , his only goal escape, to run far away and never look back. Dutchy tore at the ground, in a desperate bid to crawl away.

WHUMP!

Pain shot through him. Dutchy felt the air exit his lungs and he didn't have to look around to know what had happened. Brook had kicked him, jammed his foot down, pinning Dutchy to the corpse of his fallen friend. He squirmed and struggled with all his might, but it was as good as over. Defeated Dutchy collapsed, his head pressed up into Vivien's chest, his entire body shaking.

Please, please no more- I can't- no more, no...
V5
Posted Image Posted Image
Oswaldo Marx --> "Chicks dig scars? Yeah, I'm calling bullshit." --> Cicada Nights
Mikko "Mike" Korhonen --> "Interesting, very interesting!" --> A Casual Question
V4 / Mini's
Spoiler: click to toggle

Quote:
 
"My dick did the Mexican Hat Dance and I had to suppress the moan that wanted to escape." - Casey


NOTE TO SELF: Burns on the left side. LEFT SIDE.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Little Boy
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STICK IT IN ZEE BOOOOOOOT~~~~
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
He needed to think. He needed to think of something, something worthwhile, something worth dying with. But there was nothing. There was fear and pain, and through it all the boy seemed to be screaming at him, laughing and kicking, scattering his thoughts, leaving only enough room inside himself to scream. Dutchy was going to die. That was all there was too it.

No, no please, not like this, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I didn’t-

"Snuggle time's over. Sorry, but maybe if I'm in a good mood, and the feng shui works just right, I'll place you near Vivien, kay?"

There was pain and he was spinning, tumbling off Vivian and onto his back. The pain shot up through him and he cried out, tears staining his face. Something had broken, he was sure. He tried to curl up into a ball, to melt into the ground and disappear. The boy would have none of that.

The boy’s leg pounded into his chest and for a moment Duchy couldn’t breath. He scrambled, tried one last time to crawl away, but it was hopeless. He looked up into his killers face, his eyes wide with terror.

“Hee hee… heeeey Dutchy, look what it is?”

No, no please no no-

“Open wide for the choo choo!”

The gun seemed to sparkle in the air above, like an angel descending from the heavens. The boy grinned maniacally as he slowly brought the weapon down toward his prey, and Dutchy’s heart beat faster. His mind raced as the barrel of the weapon came down toward his mouth, the cold steel pressing up against his lips. He pressed his lips tight together, shaking uncontrollably.

No no no no nonononono…

“Chugga chugga chugga…”

Oh god, please- Mommy- anyone- please-

“…chugga chugga chugga…”

I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean anything, mommy, I just- please-

The boy’s hand flew down, smacking him across the face. Pain shot through him and Dutchy saw stars. He was vaguely aware he was screaming again, screaming louder then ever, the names of his parents, his friends. The boy snarled jerking Dutchy’s head back towards him. Dutchy closed his mouth-
The boy shot his hand down, pinching his nose shut.

Dutchy flailed his arms in panic, realising what was happening. The gun came down again, banging against his closed mouth, pressing, trying to find an opening. The boy tried again.

And again.

His eyes watered. His heart was pounding and his lungs screamed for air. He flailed again helplessly, staring up towards the boy with pleading eyes. But there was no sympathy to be found. The gun came down again, smashing into his closed mouth.

“MMMMMFFFF!!”

The world swam before him. Dutchy felt weak, battered and broken far beyond the wounds on him. It was too much. Dutchy closed his eyes, and asked his mother to forgive him. He just couldn’t take anymore.

Dutchy opened his mouth, gulping the cold air. The boy moved fast, and he felt the barrel slam into his mouth, scraping against his teeth. Dutchy lay on the ground; his heart beating faster, his courage spent. All resistance was gone. This was the end.

“That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

Dutchy jammed his eyes shut, letting out one last pathetic whimper. After everything, after all the heartache and pain, it was finally over. Despite the panic overtaking him, Dutchy struggled one last time, to picture his family back home, his father holding his mother close-
- his mother, tears running down her weary face.

nonono-
V5
Posted Image Posted Image
Oswaldo Marx --> "Chicks dig scars? Yeah, I'm calling bullshit." --> Cicada Nights
Mikko "Mike" Korhonen --> "Interesting, very interesting!" --> A Casual Question
V4 / Mini's
Spoiler: click to toggle

Quote:
 
"My dick did the Mexican Hat Dance and I had to suppress the moan that wanted to escape." - Casey


NOTE TO SELF: Burns on the left side. LEFT SIDE.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Little Boy
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STICK IT IN ZEE BOOOOOOOT~~~~
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
(GM'd Kimberly out of the thread.. Toben, feel free to post if you want too, I'll just edit this post. It was really late, and I wanted to sleep and I couldn't get a hold of you on chat xD)

It had all happened, too fast. A blur of movement, pain, as steel death was wrenched from his mouth. A great weight lifted from his chest. Dutchy opened his eyes and saw the sky again.

Kimmy.

In a flash he was on his feet, despite the hurt. His heart was pounding, but his mind was clear. Get out. That was all he wanted in the world. Kimmy had him by the hand, no words needed. And then, his legs were pumping, his heart beating so fast he was scared it'd shoot right out of his chest. He was fast, but Kimberly was even faster. They bolted from the clearing at a breakneck speed.

Behind them he could hear the boy. He could hear the anger in his voice, sense his sadism.

Please. Oh please-

He was crying again, panting. His legs were moving too slow. The trees, too far away.

They'd never make it.

Please. Please, please-

There was a loud crack, gunfire from behind.

They didn't stop running.

All I want, it's all I want.

((Dutchy Ayers and Kimberly Nguyen continue in A White and Soundless Place))
Edited by Little Boy, Sep 3 2011, 02:07 AM.
V5
Posted Image Posted Image
Oswaldo Marx --> "Chicks dig scars? Yeah, I'm calling bullshit." --> Cicada Nights
Mikko "Mike" Korhonen --> "Interesting, very interesting!" --> A Casual Question
V4 / Mini's
Spoiler: click to toggle

Quote:
 
"My dick did the Mexican Hat Dance and I had to suppress the moan that wanted to escape." - Casey


NOTE TO SELF: Burns on the left side. LEFT SIDE.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
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