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Peripeteia; All hope is lost
Topic Started: Mar 10 2011, 12:34 AM (3,591 Views)
T-Fox
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N-Nopony! Ah was talkin' to nopony whatsoever!
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
((Jacquard "Jackie" Broughten continued from Could Have Been Worse.))

It had been a long, long two days sitting down in the tunnels. After she had regained herself from the minor tantrum in the woods, Jackie had immediately fled. She couldn't believe it had taken her nearly a full week on the island to even think about her parents. About what her family would think of their little murderer, their insane little daughter. So many prying eyes upon her, she suddenly felt so incredibly vulnerable. She needed to get off camera, but how? The limited attention she had paid to the announcements had informed her quite clearly that someone named Liz Polanski had created essentially a dead-zone in the cameras... somewhere. Not where. That didn't help at all. But upon looking at her map a few hours later, she spotted a multitude of entrances to the tunnels. It was near the mine, where she had first encountered Roland and that girl.

It was probably dark in there. Even if she still was under the prying eye of the cameras that were so plentifully spread across the island, it would be dark enough that she could hide.

And so by nightfall, she had made her way to the nearest entrance, somewhere in the Inland Woods. It was almost impressive that a mining company had spread so far underneath the entire island. But she could dwell on that later.

And for an entire day and a half, the only voice she heard was that of Danya as his announcements echoed almost unintelligibly through the intricate, vast tunnel network that created this massive spider web throughout the entire island. Well, that and the sound of her own sobs, and the occasional voice in the back of her head, telling her to get up or stop feeling so damned sorry for herself. But really, what was the point of it all? She was out of food. She had run out at some point halfway between walking into the tunnels and now. She was so incredibly hungry... But she had nothing. Even if she didn't get shot, or stabbed, or some other fitting death, she was still going to starve to death in three or four days, absolute tops. This was so incredibly bad. It hadn't crossed her mind, but these guys were sicker bastards than she had originally thought. Two bottles of water, two loaves of bread, and a tin of crackers. Eating normally, enough for two days. Meager portions, enough for six or seven days. How far were they? Halfway. Food as an incentive to kill. Sure, a couple of the people running around out here had probably managed to become self sufficient, but logic didn't equate to an understanding of hunting or knowledge of edible plants.

How long had it been? There had been two announcements, and the last one seemed like years ago when something finally broke the silence. It was a gunshot. So painfully loud on her poor and weary ears. There was an urging. An urging from within, to go, see if she could help. A reminder from that same voice that there should be some kind of flashlight in her backpack. After a few minutes, her hand touched steel. Not the destroyed and warped steel of her hacksaw, but a smoother steel. And suddenly, there was light.

And without quite understanding why she was doing it, she was walking in the direction of the single gunshot.

As she slowly closed the distance between the trio unknown and herself, voices became clearer and clearer. She only heard two. One seemed so powerful and in charge, such a natural leader. The other was shaky and scared. Screaming. The only words she could understand as they bounced off of the tight stone walls.

"HELLO? I NEED HELP, IS THERE ANYONE THERE?"

A chance to help... Redeem yourself for all your follies.

More silence, followed by more voices. Something was happening. Something bad. She felt some unexplained sense of urgency, one that she just didn't have the energy to act upon. Her slow, shuffling footsteps, of shoes that weren't even hers. There was a fifty percent chance that the girl who actually owned them was dead now. She had no idea of who it even was.

Wow. She had really been a terrible person... It's a sad state of affairs when killing is more justified than stealing... But here, honestly, it's more likely that her kill would be forgiven by her parents than stealing that poor girl's only pair of shoes.

"This might hurt just a little."

They were right around the corner. Her flashlight wasn't quite cresting that natural barricade, and she still wasn't quite sure if she wanted it to.

So she just stopped, and listened.

A boy, was talking so weakly... She hadn't even heard his voice as she was approaching. He was... dying. Someone was trying to help. She couldn't place a single voice to a single name. Then again, she knew maybe what, ten people in Bayview before she had gotten here?

Do it! The voice hissed.

But she didn't act. She just stood, shifting her weight awkwardly back onto her good leg. The pain from before had left her, but only for two days of physical rest, and mental stress.

Stood and did nothing... For far too long. Far too long.

"Goodnight, folks..."

It was over. The dying boy was no longer dying, he was dead. She had heard two names, his soft voice having carried almost perfectly over the strange acoustics.

Peter... And Brendan... Neither of them rang a bell. But that didn't matter. Cassarah was right, it was time to turn over a new damned leaf, to try again, much to Li's eternal chagrin. So her light rounded the corner first, a large circle illuminating the relative darkness of the small cavern in which the recently deceased sat.

"I-Is there anything I can do to help?" She just hoped she wouldn't be turned away, scoffed at like before, called a killer, a murderer, a bitch, and threatened within an inch of her life yet again. She had to at least try. Who was really winning out here? And was it even right?
Coming soon to a deathmatch near you:
Garry Brooks - Swave Countryboy
Jade Aurora - Tomboy Drummer
Jasmine Tolle - Pacifistiic Artist

Memories of those past:
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What is wrong with you people?!
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T-Fox
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N-Nopony! Ah was talkin' to nopony whatsoever!
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Well, they had finally noticed her. She heard some kind of shuffling, and from what she could see, Brendan was shuffling backwards on all fours, like some kind of wretch, some kind of bug fleeing from the foot that was about to stomp it dead. Even without being able to discern his facial features, Jackie could tell. He was mortified. Words couldn't describe what Brendan was feeling right now. But Jackie could empathize. The poor boy was about to be labeled a murderer, and shunned by every single person he once held dear.

"Stay there. Don't move."

She was more than happy to oblige. The damage had been done, and it truly looked like Peter was in control of the situation. He was trying to assess what went wrong, trying to keep things calm... Of course she would at least be treated with suspicion and disdain, everyone on the island knew what she had done. Just like in a few hours, everyone would know what Brendan had done.

"Do you have any fucking idea what you've done? You did this. You shot him, because he sure as hell didn't shoot himself in the leg. So I'm gonna give you one fucking chance to explain your fucking self."

That seemed a little harsh. She tried to rationalize it, Peter was trying to give him a good wake up slap, because Brendan hadn't said a single word yet. He was still huddled against the opposing cave wall, shaking like a leaf. She could hear his labored, pained breathing, and she could have sworn she heard a sob as Peter's tirade continued.

"You're fucking pathetic, you know Brendan? You shoot somebody to death. Your first kill, if I recall correctly. You had this gun, and you either know how to use it or you're a fucking idiot and should never be allowed to have one. I'd have thought you could fucking handle what this all comes to mean. For God's sake, it's been a fucking week. But no, you're just going to sit there being useless and pathetic. You can't even fucking man up and accept the responsibility of what you just fucking did."

He doesn't need this right now.

But what can I do? He's just trying to he-No. Listen to his voice, or are you that socially inept? He's mad, not trying to give him a wake up call. I can hear your thoughts, I know your rationalizations, and am quite intimate with their fallacies.

Back and forth they went, until one sentence gave Cassarah the proverbial middle finger, Jackie essentially screaming 'shut your face' so that she could just listen to that one beautiful phrase akin to what she had wanted to hear for the entire time she was on the island.

"...innocent person would be dead. Like Jackie back there."

An audible gasp came from her as she shook her head in disbelief. Innocent? No... That's not what she was looking for. She was far from innocent... In fact, she would deserve 'Hunt's' fate more than she could ever have imagined another person could. Well... Except for Maxwell. Maxwell deserved to die much more than she did, that's one point that Cassarah had been working off of throughout their conversations over the past week.

"So tell me: why shouldn't I just shoot you right now?"

He's not right in the head.

She shook her head wildly, her hair still flying free whipping through the air, coming to rest all about, shrouding her view even more than the inky black of the tunnels did in the first place. Even though she knew she didn't deserve it, she still relished the little unintentional compliment. She clung to it like a little puppy.

B-But he likes me.

Do NOT tell me that you are... No. You will not side where you wish to. So weak... Must I do everything myself?

That rush, that switch of power. Her limbs suddenly felt lifeless, yet they were directly in front of her face, pulling back her hair, roughly shedding it from her eyes...

"Peter. He doesn't need this right now." It still sounded like Jackie, just as with Li before her. But the voice was somehow different, and it was obvious Cassarah wasn't trying to hide it at all. "Look at him. It's obvious it was an accident. Why are you doing this to him?"

Jackie cringed and groaned inside of her own mind. She really wasn't anything but the puppet to these puppet-masters. She couldn't do a damn thing that she wanted anymore. She had just wanted to stay here silently. Avoid conflict, let it work itself out. She had respite for once.

She felt her body drop to it's knees, not five feet from Brendan and Peter, looking on at the shadowy figures that were so animated against the same-colored backdrop.

Jackie expected Cassarah to say something else, to fuck it up worse. To make an enemy where there was none. But instead, silence rained. She was waiting for Brendan's explanation on just as bated breath as Peter was. But for different reasons. The right reasons, Jackie.

Oh dear fucking Christ no...
Coming soon to a deathmatch near you:
Garry Brooks - Swave Countryboy
Jade Aurora - Tomboy Drummer
Jasmine Tolle - Pacifistiic Artist

Memories of those past:
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What is wrong with you people?!
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T-Fox
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N-Nopony! Ah was talkin' to nopony whatsoever!
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
"Shut. Up."

Cassarah, indeed, did keep on talking. She kept going on that massive moral crusade, standing on a soapbox she had no right to even own, never mind be on top of right now. She was a killer, talking down to a... well, a two time killer. But still, Jesus Christ. Hypocrisy. And it was extremely visible that Peter was getting annoyed with her shenanigans.

See, this is exactly why I wanted to just starve to death in a damned corner...

Really, the more and more Nekane popped up in the back of her head... that was the name, wasn't it... the more and more it made sense. Why take route A or route B out of all of this? She could just kill herself, and get it over with. Well, the only problem with that was the fact she was terrified to actually hurt herself, but starving to death seemed to suit the suicidal little girl in her head more than well enough. In fact, she could have sworn she heard humming right before Peter responded again, harsher this time than even before.

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

Umm, Cassarah, I don't think he's fu-

The loud crack that followed knocked every single one of them out of their jumbled trains of thought, Cassarah silencing immediately as the distinct sound of gunfire echoed through the cavern. Adrenaline poured through Jackie's body, felt by all, and each and every one of them, save Nekane, had the mind to leap out of the way, dive for cover, something. Thankfully, one of those with a self preservation instinct intact was in control.

Unfortunately, it wouldn't be quick enough.

If Jackie had ever been given a chance to retell the story, she would have sworn that the world slowed down. That she was thinking in normal time right up until that shot of pain, and even then. Heck, she might have even told you she heard that stereotypical acceleration noise as soon as it did occur, just as the world seemed to move back to normal again. But really, she didn't have time to process anything. A split second before anything occurred even, she heard a crack on a nearby rock, and suddenly, just fire through the entire right side of her face. It hurt so much, four voices screaming in unison in her mind, yet the cave was eerily silent as the next sound was that of chipped, carved stone falling to the ground, followed quickly by the clang of brass on the tunnel's floor.

She tried to open her mouth. Cassarah was gone, long gone, her presence not even felt like she had finally grown accustomed to. It felt... Empty. But she didn't dwell on that. Her mouth wouldn't move, the exertion causing a shockwave of hellfire and punishment to cause the entire right side of her face, or what was left of it, to convulse. Which caused even more pain, which caused a straining whimper to slide ever so reluctantly from her throat.

"I gave you the benefit of the doubt from the start. Don't make me take it back. Brendan ran off. Good enough for you? Because I'm done with you making yourself sound so righteous and wholesome. So let's turn around and walk our separate ways."

He obviously didn't seem to realize, at all, what had happened. She was incapable of responding, and he was taking the offensive again. She fluttered her eyes, straining her will, and the very fiber of her being, trying to fight to stay awake. She felt a sticky, red, warmth oozing down her shoulder, down her arm. Her right eye was twitching, and she swore that if she moved her arm to check how bad the damage was, she would throw up on the spot.

"And pray that I don't see you again, Jackie. Next time, I'll keep in mind that you're a murderer too."

She wanted to call out, nay, plead for help from the one person who had caused her this much pain. A tear rolled down her one good cheek, pricking painfully at her other eye as these mechanisms that didn't yet realize that they were destroyed still tried to work against the will of every bit of her. Every bit of energy she expended was a second less she had to keep breathing. But what was the point?

Another presence just faded away... First it was a sense of honor that she just couldn't feel welling within her anymore, and now, it was an anger, a vengeance that just evaporated. Another voice went silent.

When did her ears dunk underwater? The footsteps trailing away were just getting that much farther away, that much harder to hear. Was ear just coated in blood? Or was the blackness starting to creep into her vision not actually an illusion created by a terrified girl?

Another voice, extinguished. She no longer felt that unbridled, child like source of Joy that she had been able to bring to the surface. It's not like she could have ever identified what it felt like if she tried. But now that it was gone, it was so obvious... So incredibly obvious... She wanted nothing more than to shed a tear, her innocence not just perverted or twisted but literally dead, just as dead as she was about to become. She knew it. That fading voice, the one that had introduced itself as Nekane... She kept telling her so. Over and over, she was sure that all that she had the energy left for was a single chant. Over and over... Berating... How she deserved it...

Jackie's body went limp, but not yet her mind. Even through the pain, even through the absolute torture of watching pieces of yourself literally die in front of you as your brain shuts down...

She still had the clarity to realize now, in her dying moment, that thanks to Cassarah, Li, Nekane, and Akakios... She really wasn't alone at all.

G020: Jacquard "Jackie" Broughten - DECEASED
Coming soon to a deathmatch near you:
Garry Brooks - Swave Countryboy
Jade Aurora - Tomboy Drummer
Jasmine Tolle - Pacifistiic Artist

Memories of those past:
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What is wrong with you people?!
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