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Retribution; Private
Topic Started: Jul 2 2011, 07:33 AM (1,999 Views)
Fiori
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The Fiorious One
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((Maxwell Lombardi continued from You Already Know How This Ends))

Bitch... Fucking BASTARDS! Should have shot him whilst I had the chance, but NO, I just HAD to make things more challenging didn't I? I just couldn't be satisfied with taking the pragmatic route and get it all over and done with quickly!

After barely getting away from the two small-time killer's whom had each inflicted a grievous injury on him, Maxwell Lombardi found himself leaning against a nearby tree as he attempted to ascertain just how serious his wounds were.

He was fairly sure by now that the gunshot wasn't fatal. Crippling, perhaps, but not enough to kill him. Not that it made him feel any better, seeing as he was now in a state of absolute agony, made all the worse by the fact that half his face now had a horrific disfiguring scar going down it. One which made the scar on his left cheek look like a scratch by comparison. It too added to the sheer amount of pain he was under, his blood pouring freely down the side of his face and from the hole in his back.

Worst of all, whilst the wound on his face was far from fatal, it had also taken something from him which couldn't be replaced... His right eye. That in particular was something that enraged him more than anything else at that particular moment in time, that barely moments after getting shot in the back did some other bastard rob him of one of his own eyes. Every other injury he had received could be easily fixed with some good surgeons and a lot of money. Heck, after all the scars he'd received he was already considering the idea of getting plastic surgery anyway once he got back home, then go live in anonymity for the rest of his life in some holiday home in Majorca. The eye though was something that could never be replaced, not in his lifetime anyway. He was doomed to remain half-blind for the rest of his life, constantly reminded of that one fateful fuck-up to end all fuck-ups.

God DAMNIT! How could I have been so STUPID! Next time, I should shoot the daft cunt whilst I have the chance! No pissing about, just aim and pull the trigger. That way, we can avoid making stupid fucking mistakes like the one I made just moments ago... Why, god damnit, WHY!?!

It was times like this that Maxwell wished he could just reverse time, set the clock back to the point where he had just made mistake #1 and make sure that he didn't screw up this time around. He was already beginning to miss being able to look out of both his eyes, something which he knew for a fact was going to torment him for the rest of his life. What was stupid mistake #1 anyway? Was it the moment when he fell for that stupid trick with the flashbang grenade, causing him to lose both his equipment AND his dignity? Or was it the time when that French harlot Alice Boucher grazed his arm, or one of the many times he let that dyke Reiko Ishida get away by the skin of her teeth? Hell, a part of him was tempted to say that his mistake #1 was that moment by the beach when he first decided to play this blasted game in the first place.

No, on second thoughts, mistake #1 was agreeing to go on this bloody trip in the first place.

Why DID he agree to come along anyway? After all, during his brief tenure at Bayview he barely made any effort to know anyone. Why should he? It wasn't as if he was going to be staying that long. Heck, he ended up learning more about his classmates during his stay on the island then he did back at that godawful excuse for a school. In that case, why in god's name did he decide to tag along anyway?

...Oh, that's right. His parents wanted him out of their hair for a while, didn't they? Wanted to have the house all to themselves whilst he was off on some dull school trip. THAT'S why he ended up in this hellhole, killing god knows how many people and receiving several disfiguring injuries in the process. All because his parents wanted to get rid of him for a while.

God, if only he could have seen their faces the moment they realised that their actions turned their son into bloody killer.

C'mon Maxwell, its not all bad... Sure, you've lost an eye, but at least you're still alive right? And in the end, that's what matters, isn't it? Those two bastards you left back there aren't going to survive, YOU are. YOU'RE the lucky son of a bitch who's going to win this thing, aren't you? Not Alice, or Reiko, or anyone else on this fucking island! YOU are the winner! YOU are the victor! You're the only one here who has the right to go home, nobody else! And by god, I'm not going to rest now until every single bastard on this entire island lies dead at my....

....Feet?


Maxwell looked down at the metal object that fell a metre or so from where he stood.

His eyes widened in shock.

No way... No FUCKING way.....

It was a flashbang grenade.

He barely managed to block his eyes before the bomb went of, deafening the young killer with an impossibly loud bang. Barely moments later, he felt a large thump against his body as some unseen figure tackled him, sending him and the figure soaring over the edge and tumbling over each other down the the side of the mountain until they both landed onto a small plateau, surrounded on all sides by a sudden drop which would almost certainly spell certain death for anyone who was careless enough to fall off.

Ignoring the tremendous amount of pain he was in, Maxwell kicked the figure away from him as he rolled onto his side, groggily getting back onto his feet as he prepared himself to face his restless opponent.

There was fire in Maxwell's eyes as they locked into his enemy's, the two killers staring one another down as they stood up and prepared themselves for what they both knew would be their final conflict. No more bullshit, no more running off or letting the other get away with a savage beating. This time, both of them would make damn sure that the other was dead this time, even if they had to go to the most extreme lengths to make sure that this was the case.

An evil grin grew on Maxwell's lips, his teeth stained red from his bloody injuries. He clenched his fists, and cricked his neck as he readied himself for the vicious fight that was about to ensure.

"Well, guess I'm not the only guy on this island who's hard to kill..." he said with cruel smirk, shortly before he rushed forward at lightning speed, his fist readied to deliver a thunderous punch to his tenacious opponent.
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Fiori
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...What the hell just happened?

It all happened so fast. One second, Maxwell was at the top of his game, kicking this guy around as if he was a football for him to play with. Then, before he even realised it, he had made one little mistake and the whole world crumbled beneath his feet. Things for there one had gone from bad to worse, and before he could even comprehend the fact that he was losing Maxwell found himself lying flat on his back, his face covered in his own blood.

He looked up at the Japanese boy who stood before him, horribly beaten and suffering from just as many injuries as himself, but standing as the victor rather than the fallen. There just wasn't any other way of putting it, Naoko Raidon had won. He'd beaten Maxwell to within an inch of his life, just like he'd done in the forest, and now the young Brit had found himself at his mercy.

Only this time, there wasn't any pacifists to stop him. No half-baked escape attempts to distract his enemy from finishing him off. Maxwell Lombardi was going to die at this boy's hands, and there was almost nothing he could do about it.

He tried desperately to reach for his gun, but deep down he knew that there was no way he could reach it in time before Raidon picked it up and put it to good use. All he could do is lie there in agony, waiting for the moment when Raidon put a bullet in his skull. He tried to get back up onto his feet, but the amount of pain he was in stopped him from doing so. He was completely helpless, powerless to stop the inevitable.

He was actually going to die.

And that terrified him to his very core.

No... N-N-N-No, damnit! It can't end like THIS! Not now, not here! I was supposed to WIN this fucking thing, not die just before the ending! I just... Jesus Christ, he's really going to kill me isn't he?!? I'm ACTUALLY going to die here and the hands of this.... This.... Amateur!

He thought back to the mansion, where Clio Gabriella had brought up the fact that they were all going to be remembered long after the events of the game. At the time, he remembered being fond of the idea of being remembered even if he DID lose this game. That people out there would look up at him as some kind of sick icon, praising his tenacity and skill. Future players would strive to be like him, to emulate him, to try and see if they can do a better job than him.

Now though, as he stared in the face of death itself, he felt no relief. No feelings of satisfaction that he will at least be remembered by people all across the world. Just sheer bloody terror about the fact that he was barely minutes away from his very own demise. He wanted to survive, not be remembered as some sick example! Fuck all the fame and glory, Maxwell wanted to live damnit! Preferably until he was an old man living in luxury, not here! Not on this fucking island at the hands of some amateur!

He was beginning to feel the adrenaline flowing through his veins again, his refusal to simply lay down and die fuelling his energy. He could barely feel the tremendous amount of pain he was under now, his sheer rage temporarily subsiding it as he readied himself for one last desperation attack. Raidon had the gun in his grimy hands now, and as Maxwell looked down the chamber he was reminded of the moment when he committed his second kill. When he'd stood in more-or-less the same position and coldly shot that smug fat fuck right between the eyes. The irony of the situation was sickening, but not as much as the things he was planning to do to the bastard standing before him.

Fuck you Naoko Raidon! I'm not going to die here, ESPECIALLY not at your hands! You don't deserve it! Nobody on this fucking island deserves it! I will not die, you hear me! I will not die! I will not die! I will not die!

"I WILL NOT DIE!!!"

At that point, Maxwell shot forward, ignoring the incredible amount of pain he was under as he dashed towards his enemy with a feral look of terrifying rage on his features. He barely even acknowledge the bullet that grazed his shoulder as he tackled Raidon head-on, viciously striking him across the fist with a bloody fist before delivering another to his stomach. With Raidon still recovering from the second blow, Maxwell jammed his hand into his enemy's exposed shoulder wound, causing him to cry out in pain before Maxwell grabbed the Japanese boy's head and smashed the center of his face with his forehand. From there one, he unleashed an unforgiving number of punches and kicks on the other boy's body, never slowing down for even a second as he continued to relentlessly rain blows on his opponent, ending his furious assault with an especially hard kick which sent his hated enemy soaring towards the edge of the mountain.

He stood there for a moment to admire his handiwork, and inhumane smile forming on his face as he looked down at the boy who barely moments ago had been on the verge of killing him. He'd done it! He'd ACTUALLY fucking done it! He'd completely turned the tables on this bastard! It was almost funny, really, the way he tried to squirm away and regain his footing.

So funny, in fact, that Maxwell actually found himself laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Not a natural laughter of joy, but a sadistic, almost animalistic cackle. Almost like the kind a Hyena has shortly before going in for the kill. Maxwell barely looked like the handsome Englishman he was at the start of the game, instead he looked feral. Wild.

You could almost say he looked like someone who had just lost what little sanity they had to start with.

Eventually, as his laughter died down, Maxwell's expression went from one of sick joy to a ferocious scowl as he spat out some of his own blood. He was done having fun, now it was time to fucking kill this son of a bitch.

"You... I have to admit, you're not the first guy on this island to seriously piss me off, but if there was a competition going on you'd of just won first fucking price."

He slowly made his way towards his supposedly fallen enemy, his eyes boring into Raidon's as he crawled back towards the mountain's edge.

"What makes you think you're so fucking special, huh?!? You have any idea how many people I've killed! There must be dozens of bastards out there who's loved ones I've butchered on my way to the top, but just because I kill ONE son of a bitch who happened to be your friend you suddenly feel as though you have some divine right to send me to my grave? You don't deserve to kill me any more than every other cunt on his damn island..."

Raidon had no room to escape now, and Maxwell was only a few feet away.

"...Don't you see? I've already WON this fucking game! Hell, I won it the moment I first woke up of this godforsaken rock! Haven't you seen the previous versions? The guy with the most kills ALWAYS wins! Adam Dodd, Bryan Calvert, J.R. Rizzolo... All of them were the number one killers. All of them EARNED their freedom! And that's exactly what I've done! I'm the only bastard on this ENTIRE ISLAND who deserves to survive! ME! Not you, or Reiko, or anyone else!"

He stamped his foot down on Raidon's chest, grabbing a nearby rock and raising it above his head as he looked down into the eyes of the boy whose life he was about to violently take. This was it, the moment Maxwell was waiting for. No more fucking around, this time he was going to smash this bastard's head in and watch to make damn sure that he was dead this time. In the heat of the moment, Maxwell leaned closer so that he could say one last thing to Raidon before he snuffed his miserable life out once and for all.

"Say hi to all your friends for me. Tell them I sent you personally..."

Then, with a vicious grin on his face, Maxwell leaned back and threw the boulder down at Raidon's face, smashing the Japanese boy's head into a hundred bloody pieces.....


....At least, that's what WOULD have happened if Raidon hadn't of shot his left hand out and grabbed Maxwell's injured ear as he was about to lean back, tearing at it with enough force to cause Maxwell to drop the boulder behind him and scream in agony.

"AAARGH!!! You son of a BITCH!"

But it didn't end there. Before Maxwell could recover from his ear being ripped apart, Raidon had grabbed the kris which lay barely a few feet to the left of him, which Maxwell hadn't spotted thanks to his impaired sight, and stabbed Maxwell as hard as he possibly could...

...Right in the crotch.

Followed by a cruel twist just add insult to injury.

No amount of adrenaline could drown the amount of pain Maxwell was under, the eager young killer falling to his knees as he attempted to keep his balance, screaming at the top of his lungs in sheer pain. This was... Truly unlike anything he could have possibly imagined. NOTHING else on the island could have possibly compared itself to the amount of agony Maxwell was suffering from at that particular moment in time. None of the other injures he'd ever suffered could equal, let alone surpass the impossible amount of pain he was in.

And it was only going to get worse from there on out...

In all his pain, Maxwell barely noticed Raidon as he grabbed another flashbang from his bag, and without pausing for a second the Japanese boy tugged back on Maxwell's hair and shoved the grenade into his mouth, removing the pin right before stumbling away from the blast radius.

In all the confusion, Maxwell couldn't spit it out in time before it went off right in the middle of his mouth.

The results, unsurprisingly, were NOT pretty.

Maxwell barely managed to spit the metal tube out after it had gone off, half-choking on the smoke that bellowed out. The inside of his mouth was ruined beyond comprehension, the sides of his cheeks burned and shredded apart and his teeth mangled and broken. His voice had been completely ruined, gargled croaks replacing words whenever he attempted to speak. Worst of all, Maxwell's ear drums had been burst from being so close to the grenade, causing him to be come permanently deaf for the brief amount of time he had left before his inevitable demise.

He slowly turned around towards Raidon, who was now slowly making his way towards Maxwell's gun again. His eyes widened as he realised what his enemy was about to do, and an unnatural roar of fury erupted from his ruined mouth as he tore the kris from his crotch, ignoring the pain as he began to stumble towards his enemy with the intent to rip him apart piece by piece.

He never made it any further than three steps before Raidon grabbed the gun and started firing.

The first shot hit Maxwell in his left shoulder, sending him stumbling back.

The second hit Maxwell in his right arm, causing him to drop the dagger to the floor.

The third hit near Maxwell's neck, slicing his tie off and dropping it to the floor as well.

The fourth hit Maxwell in his stomach, sending him stumbling back some more.

The last hit hit Maxwell in the lung, sending him stumbling a few feet further...

...Right off the mountain's edge.

Maxwell was still conscious as he continued to fall, watching the plateau he was standing on just moments ago disappear into the distance as he neared the rocky ground beneath him at lighting speed. He screamed in pain and fear as he continued to fall for hundreds of feet, his thoughts jumbled and incoherent as he neared his imminent and violent death.

No even all the adrenaline in the world could save him this time. Even if by some miracle he managed to survive the initial fall, the amount of injuries he had suffered would have ended up slowly killing him anyway. Not that the thought ever occurred to him as he continued to fall, seeing as Maxwell was too busy freaking out to take comfort in the fact that his imminent death would be almost instantaneous.

In all the chaos, he only managed one last coherent thought shortly before he smashed against the rocky floor with a sickening thud.

I... I was so close......



B047: MAXWELL LOMBARDI - DECEASED
Edited by Fiori, Jul 7 2011, 09:38 AM.
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