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The Calm Before the Storm; Open, Tagging Medic~
Topic Started: Aug 13 2016, 05:50 PM (1,162 Views)
TwelveFourtyFive
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((Boy 002, Conrad Timothy Harrod, Start))

I must not die.

Why was he pulled into this shit? Not Henry, not Robert. Him.

Why him? Why the heck Conrad? Out of all people in Arizona, in the US, in the world, it was him, his girlfriend, his classmates, Kizi. Why the hell. Why the fuck?

His smartphone was gone, he was on an island. He had no control about how long he’d live.

All he had was a shitty bag, assigned to him so he could murder people. The terrorists told him about the bag, the game, the rules. The impossibility to escape it. This is horrible. No...

A forceful voice echoed the cliffs.

“NO! NO!”

He gasped for air.

“Nooooo.”

He screamed through the Northwest Cliffs. He screamed loudly. Conrad couldn’t recall when he ever had been so loud before. In a basketball match maybe? No, now he was louder. He screamed so loud, his throat hurt. His throat hurt. The last time he screamed so loud was when he was kid, probably. He screamed at his parents, throwing tantrums. That was when he screamed that loud last time. But now his voice was stronger.

His lungs were empty, he stopped. Tears flooded. Tears were swiped away.

He had a halberd in his hands that was as tall as him. A fucking halberd. He was supposed to fucking slice people up with it or stab them. For the terrorist. Fucking no. Why?

He hated this. He threw the halberd to the ground. It could not be destroyed that way. It could not disappear from his view, this weapon. He picked it up again. Looked around. Something to hit with it. He took some steps and mashed it against the barbered wire. Fucking destroy this weapon, fuck this weapon, fuck this wire, fuck this game, fuck everything. Ultimately he threw the halberd back on the ground and tried to calm down.

No, he could not calm down. He was about to die. Dead.

“Fuck...”

He said that calmly. Maybe it was a sign that he calmed down.
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TwelveFourtyFive
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Clarice. Instantly, he got up, swiped away every tear that remained and walked to her to hug her.

Out of all people he met, it was Clarice. His Clarice. Him and her were sitting next to each other in the bus and everything was alright. Back then. Before the gas, before the terror. He was chewing his strawberry-flavoured gum and they leaned on each other.

But then, tiredness, fatigue came. A room. Terrorists.

That moment, when all of his schoolmates were captured. It was so spooky, it was so quiet. The students of Cochise were never that quiet. If they had gotten to the science museum instead of being abducted, the whole Cochise crowd would have been loud, so much louder. But back then it was so silent. And silence was something Conrad couldn’t stand.

So he broke the current silence, whispering something to Clarice’s ear.

“We shouldn’t have gone to the trip. We really should not have.”

It was a bad decision. Now they are going to die. But to be fair, no one expected that. Especially not him. Conrad was not a person who put himself with these hypothesis. He never imagined being killed in a car accident. Nor being abducted.

The horror that occurred couldn't get out of his head. Before the trip, he was glad that Mr. Graham went to the trip, because he was one of his favourite teachers, always fun. Now that's not the case any longer. He regretted wishing that and everything else. If they had stayed home.

“What are we going to do, Clarice? What should we do? I am so baffled right now.”

As he said that calmly and hugged her more, he could feel the black, cold metal against his neck, resulting in goosebumps. No control about his life or her life. He tried hard to not cry in front of his girlfriend again.
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They couldn’t have known. That was true. SOTF was a thing from the past, not from 2015. They could not have know what was going to happen. Still, Conrad was extremely angry.

This had not have to happen. They don’t have to die. Their lives did not have to be ended.

Clarice saw a thing. An enemy? No, apparently it was a cam. They see them. They hear them.

“Let us free, Danya. Please.”

This waking up had taken more energy from him than any basketball game and swimming marathon together. He just wanted Danya to listen to him, and just let all of them go out alive.

But, Clarice perfectly stated it already. It sucked. His life was over. He had no clue what should be done. Play the game or die. He could play, and he bet he was capable of being stronger than some other students, but...he doubted he was a boy to win this. Perhaps that is possible. After winning something like SOTF he’d be screwed up, though. His body will be fucked up, maybe he would lose a limb. His mind will be screwed up, although to be honest, it already was. Conrad picked up the halberd and went to the cam.

“Let both of us free, or I will smash this weapon at the cam. If you don’t want this offer, I will destroy it. You lose one cam, you lose one potential player.”

Conrad felt extremely nervous. No. He did not want to die. As heroic this death would sound, he did not want to die. He’d rather not. Conrad dropped the weapon and turned back to Clarice.

“Perhaps we can find our classmates. Maybe no one will kill.”

As Conrad spoke out the last sentence, he could feel that it was not the truth. He knew his classmates.
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“Yes, it is”, he said while picking up again. “Even though I think you have an easier time holding it.”

He looked at it. It was heavy, dangerous, it probably was deadly. But Clarice was also right that there were idiots shooting. And then they would die, definitely. This halberd couldn’t help against bullets. She also was right that he shouldn’t bother. The terrorists don’t give a damn whether they died or not. Conrad should ignore Danya.

Clarice wanted to find Scout, her sister. Did Conrad also have persons he wants to meet? Kizi. Perhaps. He was not sure if finding people he liked was a good thing. It probably was, it could really ease his mind.

“Do you think this weapon is enough to protect ourselves?”
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Conrad would have smiled at the can, if it wasn't for the situations. But perhaps, her having a garbage weapon also meant that other people had garbage as well. He showed no reaction. It felt wrong to react to this in any way. It was not something he reflexively knew the proper reaction to.

Clarice had a good question as well. What could they do? They really could not trust other people. Clarice could trust Conrad. Conrad could trust Clarice. But would they trust an Aiden? The more people they would give their trust, the more likely it will be that they won't wake up when sleeping next to a person they falsely trusted. Conrad rubbed his chin. What could they do.

"What we could do...there are not many possibilities, are there?"

He did not want to say that they should play the game, but...

"We could try to protect ourselves. Try to outlast the other persons, until we're the only ones left? I don't know, Clarice. I don't know what other options would be possible."

What other options did they have? They had rules, given by the terrorists. Break them and die. Don't break them, also possibly die, but with a small chance of not dying.
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Clarice had never been that angry at him. He had seen her angry, but not towards him. Or rather that serious. He was baffled. He had no idea how to reply to her. He could not repeat his idea, or support it anymore. That would not be a good idea. To Clarice, the idea of his was not a concept she could agree with.

"Sorry, my bad," he said calmly, looking down on the ground. It was a stupid idea. Dumb. There were flaws. That one of them has to die. That was the problem. The one person as a winner rule. He looked back up.

"Hey, I would not kill you either. Or anyone. But to be fair, it is not about winning. It is about not dying. You know?"

Conrad wasn't sure if that what he had said made sense, but it did not have to. He was extremely nervous and he could not think clearly under that much pressure.

He should try to find a way to make Clarice not think he was someone who wanted to kill people, turning back from Clarice, to the cam again.

"Danya. Why do you do this, Danya? Other terro-", Conrad shouldn't use the word 'terrorist'. It had too many negative associations. Perhaps the terrorists did not perceive themselves as terrorist, but as the good guys. "People, who support Danya. Why do you do this? Why do you support him and this game? You are all free people, you can choose to not follow his orders."

Conrad doubted that this suggestion would let Danya to be overthrown by his underlings, but hopefully, it would resolve Clarice being mad at him. Maybe she will trust him again. That is what Clarice wanted, right? Not following the terrorists, breaking the system.

It was such a hopeless plan.
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"Waiting it out, sounds like a good plan...", he took a break to take a deep breath.

Living more days sounds like a good thing. They were like 100 students. If theoretically they would just kill 1 person per day, they would have 100 days. Not that this would be realistic, but that was worth a thought. Waiting it out.

"I do not know, Clarice. There probably are a lot of islands in the world. The ocean is-"

Oh.

A girl came. Isabel. She was not a nice person. But Conrad could handle that.

He did not know what to do with his halberd he held. Drop it, to show friendliness? Raising it to show power? No, not raising it. Clarice would be pissed if he threatened Isabel. He chose to lower the halberd. But not to drop it, after all he needed to be able to protect them.

Well, she could have a gun. Then, even using the halberd would be useless. And then it would be over for Clarice and Conrad. No life for them anymore.

"Greetings."

Conrad nervously awaited her reply.
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Hmph. Clarice really could not forgive him for suggesting to do the thing the terrorists told them to."We are not playing", he confirmed. But, like Isabel had said, surviving was important, indeed. Perhaps the three of them could become a group of sorts.

"We are up to..."

Conrad had to think of a reply. What were they up to?

"We have no plan yet. No clue what we are going to do. We will not play, we will try to be peaceful. Other than that? No clue. Absolutely no clue. You have one?"

While he spoke, he grasped his halberd harder. He was unsure what to think about the talking trash about him. Conrad hated it when people talked against him. He absolutely despises it. But it did not matter, did it? If Conrad had known that Isabel was talking behind his back, he would have...

Don't be angry. Calm down. Having a grudge against someone right now is not good timing.

Still, if one person is not honest and honourable, why would they be in this situation?
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They were four people now. That should worry Conrad. The more people came, the more people came he had to be afraid of. He could trust Clarice. He wasn't sure on Isabel or Maria. But perhaps Maria did not want to stay. Isabel apparently did not want to go away, though.

"Greetings", he repeated to Maria. Conrad did not like so many people coming. But perhaps Clarice would be fond of it. Maybe it makes her plan of grouping up come true. What then? Conrad had no clue. But having a big group was a good way to keep themselves clear from attackers. Unless, the attacker was in the group. In which case it all was pointless.

Conrad tried to have a rather friendly face to Maria and Isabel joining. He did not want to think that they would not be invited. But he thought different. Conrad hopes Clarice to be less willing to invite new people to their party. Scout, Kizi? Sure. But people they did not know that much, people they weren't close with. It was not worth it, risking their lives.
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Isabel left. Relief. One less person to be afraid of backstabbing him. Now, just Maria remained.

But. Clarice wanted to go to the bell tower to expand their group. Bad idea. More people meant more people meant more people meant more killers.

Conrad followed Clarice to their destination by sprinting to her to catch up.

"That's a good idea. We could use the bell to find the people we search for. Like Scout."

However, Maria was right. People with guns could come. Guns. They had nothing to defend themselves against guns. Maria's realistic. Maybe Maria's too afraid of the idea of the bell tower, that she leaves them. Then, it would be just him and Clarice. Then, there would be no strangers.

((Conrad Timothy Harrod continued in Jinsei no kyoku))
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