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Beast of Burden
Topic Started: May 18 2011, 08:52 PM (1,856 Views)
Greg The Anti-Viking
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On the left is a mod, on the right is a pre-made psycho...get the picture?
[ *  *  *  * ]
((Nathan Choultard continued from I Will Follow You into the Dark))

Nathan Choultard's decent down the mountain was slow and filled with hesitations. His breathing began to rise and fall erratically and he could not keep his hand from shaking.

He saw the body from where the grizzly scene had taken place and for a moment, he was unsure as to what it was. At first it was a mere body, one without a name and in the distance, it had no face. As he drew nearer, he felt his breath growing thin. He knew the face. It was Maf' and Nathan felt his grip tighten around his gun.

Jason was panicking overtop of the body., raming his hands into Maf's chest and leaning in to his head. He knew what it was, it was CPR. It caused Nathan to freeze. This was the same man that killed Tiffany Baker. And yet the man that saved their lives in the warehouse. And even then, the man that casually looted bodies and ate the food that they had carried. These thoughts looped into Nathan's head making it burn.

Jason lifted up Maf's body and started to lumber away from him.

Nathan took in some air and closed his eyes. Jason was leaving, but Nathan needed answers. He gulped and took gentle steps.

Crunch.

Jason turned his head.

"Oh shit."

Those two words made Nathan's blood go cold. Any thought that had gone into his head had been sucked away. His right hand continued to convulse as if he was being pulled back and forth by an invisible string.

Air was something that he struggled to find now. The air that he so desperately needed to soak in. The air he needed to think.

His hand finally raised up and pointed, aiming at what was his friend. Was it still now? Nathan had no answer.

His hand struggled to keep itself pointed at the two of them. It sagged and Nathan lifted his left arm up in an attempt to settle himself. To no avail

"Bro...I need you to stand still, put Maf down and your hands in the air."

Hesitation. It made Nathan's heart skip a beat. But it seemed that Jason quietly acknowledged his request and gently placed Maf on the ground into safety. As safe as he was in the attendance of someone so dangerous. A vauge concept at best...

This is the right idea....right?

"I need answers Jason! Why? Why the fuck did I hear you on the announcements! What happened when we split?"

Nathan gulped. Why wouldn't his hands just stay fucking put.
v5 characters
B054:Oscar Trig-Smoker, Artist, Film Buff

Please, message me if you have ideas, I sure don't!

Fall down seven times...
Stand up eight...
Japanese Proverb
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Greg The Anti-Viking
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On the left is a mod, on the right is a pre-made psycho...get the picture?
[ *  *  *  * ]
Nathan's lips flexed and his arms flinched when Jason first spoke. He knew him? He was starting to doubt that claim. And yet he said it was an accident. It was so sincere his words. His explanation of it being a warning shot gone wrong only made him feel more lost than before. It all made sense...but how could he know if it was true. Brook wasn't here to testify, and he's the one that out and out had...how many kills? He couldn't even think of it anymore.

He was still struggling to hold the gun up. It was light, and yet the weight it carried was unbareable. He kept adjusting his grip, beads of sweat making the rubber grip grow slick. But he couldn't let go. What if it was all a lie?

Nathan gulped when Jason put his hands in the air, opened palmed. No chance of being shot now. Now he had all the power for sure now. And the power scared him. What was he supposed to do?

In response to Jason stepping forwards, Nathan found himself stepping back, his foot being stopped by a fallen log. He bit his lower lip at Jason's words. He read him like a fucking book. Of course he was thinking about fucking Geoffrey. It was always Geoffrey! His Mom and Dad would probably be seeing him on TV right now and wondering if he'd get back home so that they could get him on the track again! Just to show their oldest what a mistake it was to stop track in college! Geoffrey wouldn't have played the game though. Would he?

"We have to find Brook and make sure Maf is safe. Lower the gun. You’re not a killer. You’re better."

Nathan found his body relaxing. He felt his arms starting to droop.

"You’re Nathan Choultard and I’m Jason Harris. Track Runners, students. Friends.”

"Jason I..."

A loud screeching sound was heard and Nathan found himself trying to move back, but he fell back, tripping on the fallen log. His fingers slipped.

Bang.

He was now staring up at the blue sky, white clouds drifting lazily upon the endless canvas. His arms were still in front of him, with his gun pointing up in the air. His back ached as he lay there, pain surging throughout his body. His heart began to rush erratically, like he had just sprinted on the track.

For a few seconds, Nathan lay there his gaze unfocused and his thoughts drifted along like the clouds before him. Then, a low ringing sound took over, and Nathan's gaze focused back on his weapon. He let out a gasp, and lifted his body up as fast as he could, a mistake when he felt the soreness in his back rise up in complaint. He turned his head and looked to where Jason stood. He had stood back, as if he was ready to flee the area, but he looked unharmed.

Nathan looked back to his gun with horror. What had he done? He had fired this gun. Had it not been for that log...

Nathan dropped the gun and backed away from it, as if it was going to fire again if he had so much as kept close to it. He propelled himself away using his hands, and kicked away with his legs. He felt the sting of rocks and forest debris on his hands, but he did not care for that now. He just had to move away from it.

His back touched another log and only then did he relax. At least, as much as he could possibly relax now. He looked up to Jason, but now Nathan had distanced himself so far away that he could not read his face, his glasses smudged by dust and oily fingerprints.

"Jason..." he said, unsure of how loud it had been, he heard nothing over the ringing. Not the sound of his own voice, nor the sound of the announcement that had started to ring out for a second time.

"I repeat. My name is Jaxon Jeremiah. I'm here with a group of people who can get your collars off and take you home, on one condition: that you have not been murdering your classmates over the past week. If that describes you, and you want a lift, come to the beach as quickly as you can. We won't be here for long..."
v5 characters
B054:Oscar Trig-Smoker, Artist, Film Buff

Please, message me if you have ideas, I sure don't!

Fall down seven times...
Stand up eight...
Japanese Proverb
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Greg The Anti-Viking
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On the left is a mod, on the right is a pre-made psycho...get the picture?
[ *  *  *  * ]
Nathan watched as Jason strode closer towards him, there was a purpose in his strides. He only stopped to pick up the gun. Nathan found a growing desire to flee the scene, and yet he found himself still sitting there.

As he strode closer, he could recognize the expression on his friends face. Fury, fury at what had just taken place. Fully justified, the way Nathan had looked at it. He gulped down another glob of spit and stared up at the man with the gun. It was such an odd look, his anger. On his own recollection, Nathan had never seen the Australian show anything but a smile. Upon looking at him now, it was something he had never wished to see. But here it was.

It was clear to him now that he had made a grave mistake. He should have turned back on the mountain. He would have never been in this position. But, like everything else he had done on this island. He had fucked it all up.

“Wrong move.”

He felt the moisture develop in his eyes. He shut them closed.

I know...

He wanted to blame everyone else. Danya. His parents. Geoffrey. But in the end, all he could do was blame himself...

"...mate."





There was no sound. No sudden rush of pain either. Was he taunting him? Why wouldn't he fucking shoot him and get it over with?

He peaked open, the surge of light, nearly causing him to close it again. Jason's face was no longer scowling at him. His face was as Cheshire-like as ever, as if he had swallowed a canary. Nathan opened his other eye to see the whole view. His gun, the gun Jason had picked up was pointed at him, with the barrel pointing back at his grinning friend.

Nathan's eyes darted from the gun to his friend and he repeated this motion several times. This still left him puzzled. What had just happened? Did he spare him? Why? Wasn't he a killer? A killer wouldn't do something like this though? He found no answers, just an endless loop of questions and statements that made his head surge with fire.

His gaze returned to the gun. It seemed to be an offering. Jason at least said as much to him. His face furrowed as if he had swallowed the very gun that was being offered to him. He had almost killed his best friend with this weapon, and in return he had be spared from being shot with it by this friend (a mystery he was still trying to solve). He didn't want the gun. He was too afraid of what would happen now if he took it back.

His gaze turned to the body of the Fijian when Jason brought him up. Jason mentioned something about boats, but his head was still in a haze too thick to understand what he meant. He was right on one thing though, Maf needed their help right now. He turned back to Jason. The smile was so off-putting now, it made Nathan hesitate, for a moment, as if taking Jason's outstretched hand was going to choke him seconds later. And yet, there was something compelling him to grab it.

Jason pulled him up and patted his back. Placing the gun in Nathan's hand. The safety had been pulled, preventing it from firing again.

"Lets go."

Nathan said nothing, merely nodding. Jason had already taken the lead and rushed to take the huge Fijian's left side. Nathan was still stuck in that foggy mist as placed the gun in his backpack. He had hoped to bury it with all of his possessions, but it was sparse, and in the end, not very effective. He gulped and looped the backpack around his shoulders.

He rushed over to join Maf and Jason and helped his friend up with a loud grunt. He had muscles in his legs, not his arms.

Jason was saying many things now, things that Nathan only partially understood. Giving only one word sounds of agreement to whatever it was that he had said. The two of them had started to carry Maf away.

Nathan was still lost in thought.

Death. Boats. You can fire a gun. Boats. Geoffrey. Boats...





Wait...boats!


((Nathan Choultard, Ma'afu Tuigamala and Jason Harris continued elsewhere))
v5 characters
B054:Oscar Trig-Smoker, Artist, Film Buff

Please, message me if you have ideas, I sure don't!

Fall down seven times...
Stand up eight...
Japanese Proverb
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