Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
Welcome to Survival of the Fittest, a RPing board loosely based off of Koshun Takami's Battle Royale, with its own unique plot and spin on the 'deadly game'. We've been around quite a while, and are now in our thirteenth year, so don't worry about us going anywhere any time soon!

If you're a newcomer and interested in joining, then please make sure you check out the rules. You may also want to read the FAQ, introduce yourself and stop by the chat to meet some of our members. If you're still not quite sure where to start, then we have a great New Member's Guide with a lot of useful information about getting going. Don't hesitate to PM a member of staff (they have purple usernames) if you have any questions about SOTF and how to get started!

Let the games begin!

Username:   Password:
Add Reply
70's Horror Movies; tagging toxie (pm for entry)
Topic Started: Sep 5 2016, 02:01 PM (674 Views)
Fran
Member Avatar
Player
[ *  *  *  * ]
((Jerry coughed, letting his bugs escape.))

The walk on the road between the pub and the vehicle depot was a slow one. Walking was an exaggeration, they were creeping on the side of the road, looking around, expecting for a maniac to come in rushing with a gun. However, they met nobody. No students, no corpses, no gore or blood was on their way to the depot.

The closest thing to a cadaver was the building standing in from of them. It didn't look good, or bad for that matter. It just looked dead, like its pulse stopped and the ambulance was on their way. The building's golden days were over, obviously. He thought about it. Maybe there could be a clue around, giving an approximate year of the desertion of the island. Even though it'd be useless, it could be nice to know about it.

If the building was a corpse, then the cars were its babies. Laying around, waiting for somebody to either repair them or dismantle them. That would have ended their suffering, instead they were left there to rust. Just melting away, dissolving because of the elements. Such a waste, he used to think he'd be a mechanic when he'd grow up, like his parents. He wondered how they were reacting to all of this.

Did they accept his death yet?

Recently, he dreamt about going into art, specifically dance. Obviously, it would have never happened, but now, the odds of him living to see college were pretty close to zero. It wasn't fair. If he were to make it out alive, he'd kick some serious terrorists ass. Maybe skewer one or two with his trusty spear. His thoughts were becoming darker and soon, he was seething. He wanted to yell, but something was blocking him from doing so. He just kept grinding his teeth.

Jerry suddenly stopped. Something crossed his mind. He wondered about it, trying to find an answer to his question. It was a vital and necessary question needed to be asked. They couldn't just wander around and be okay. They had to have goals or something like that, or else what will they do? Sit around all day, going batshit and killing each other? Jerry jerked his head toward his companion and clearly asked his question.

"Where should we go? We can't just walk around forever."
me by naft
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Fran
Member Avatar
Player
[ *  *  *  * ]
Jerry didn't like the place, at all. Staying there reminded him of home, and he didn't want to think about it. Home was a distant place, away and gone. Everyone's house were laying six feet under. They were buried under the island, waiting for their days to come back. But only one of them will be intact, everyone else's would be demolished by the impact of the crushing weight of their occupants' deaths..

So, that's why he didn't like the vehicle depot.

Even though there was a certain comfort to be had in knowing reality wasn't that far, it was the trip to reach it that scared him. Killing and all of that was dreadful, and knew m, even he'd make it out alive, the world wouldn't forgive him. He could be seen as a victim but, chances are, they'd see him as a killer. A vicious murderer, a cold-hearted monster who killed his classmate to live.

If he thought about home, he wanted to kill so he distracted himself by poking a car's window. The window was already cracked and the shoving was making it bigger and bigger until it finally shattered on the driver seat. That was fun, maybe he should do that some more.

He continued poking the car on the right side. It was hard to determine the original color due to the corrosion but Jerry assumed it was red, or orange, or something like that.. He poked mindlessly and he answered slowly to Michael's point.

"I guess, we could. Wanna' go in first?"
Edited by Fran, Sep 9 2016, 03:19 PM.
me by naft
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Fran
Member Avatar
Player
[ *  *  *  * ]
Jerry didn't want to go inside, but it was already too late to voice his opinion to Michael, he already opened the door. He wished he could have stopped him from doing so, but it was too late.

Well, like it or not, but Jerry had to enter and explore the place with his partner in crime, and he couldn't just stand in front of it like a statue, so he quickly and quietly followed his friend.

He thought about their promise from earlier, would it be here their killing start? It didn't have to start anywhere, only if they were attacked, but who knows. If someone attacked them, they had to fight back, that's the only thing that mattered.

The inside was like the outside. Just with a to-be-never repaired car, elevated like a ghost and reigning over the place. It could fall anytime, just crush anyone beneath. He forced himself to remember that, area hazard was a valid way to fight back.

The metallic grave's air was stale and Jerry's nostril flared up at the smell of it. It smelled like in abandonment place, untouched for ye-




...




He wanted to facepalm.

"You know what'd be funny? If we start up a car and drive away."
me by naft
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Fran
Member Avatar
Player
[ *  *  *  * ]
"It was a joke."

Was all he could have let escape before Michael went on a frenzy. Well, frenzies with a capital "F". Jerry didn't remember how dramatic Michael was before all of this, maybe because they never hung around a lot or just because the stress was getting the better of him. Anyways, he said a lot of things that surely made sense if someone was able to put this specific section on repeat a couple of times but for Jerry, it just went through him. He understood the overall meaning of it, however.

He didn't know a man could say so many words in, what, thirty seconds? Gee, when Jerry thought his ally was over, he continued over his own crazy idea. Making armor out of tires. Shit, they must be really desperate to do that. First of all, it'd take a lot of time, something they didn't necessarily have because of the situation. Anybody could just walk up to them while they are doing that, and it'd be over for them. Second, they needed something sharp, which they had, but only one knife. Cutting with an axe sounds fun and all, but Jerry didn't think it was really accurate. And finally, how will they strap it onto them? With what? Most of the things they had were taken away, including anything that remotely looked useful to kids trapped in a murder game.

With Michael's arm still around him, he tried to think about something to say, but most of those things were either disrespecting his plan or potentially rude so Jerry dug deeper and deeper. He thought about that one time his mom baked a cake for his birthday.. Jerry didn't know what his mom put in it, but it tasted like shit. It tasted really, really bad like a rotten egg forgotten in the sun. It did smell good, so when Jerry took the first bite, he was surprised at this foul-tasting bakery. However, he continued eating it because of his mother's smile. He kinda wanted to do the same thing for Michael, even his idea wasn't the most planned out. In the end, Jerry's mom got better at baking and maybe Michael will get better at... planning stuff out? He wasn't really sure about that last part, but he knew it could make his friend happy.

"Yeah. Let's try, but we need to get everything we need. Something to tie it all up."
me by naft
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Fran
Member Avatar
Player
[ *  *  *  * ]
Jerry followed Michael to the tires. They looked old, very old. Older than the rest of the island. Maybe the people who lived and worked on the island bought too much stuff and ran out of budget for tires. They looked very kickable, too. Like those huge things you'd see MMA fighters flipped around and smack with a sledgehammer. It was apparently a good workout. His daydream went away when Michael started speaking about his plan. As Michael was speaking, Jerry just nodded and said a couple of ''hum.'' and ''oh...''.

Jerry felt uncomfortable by Michael's demand. He wanted his knife. Out of the situation, he would have gave it right away, but as he dug in his bag, he realized the meaning of that action. Giving one of his weapon to Michael meant he trusted him. Michael could just stab him in the back and leave, nothing stopped him. He would just walk away free and nobody'd care but for their parents and friends left back at home. Something else went through his mind, Michael had an axe all along. If he wanted to play the executionner, he would have done it in the pub when they first met. He clearly had the avantage against Jerry's knife.

Yet, he didn't and that puzzled Jerry.

He kept digging in his duffel bag until he wrapped his hand around the handle of the knife, and pulled it out. The knife seemed feeble. Was that the right word? The knife seemed not fake but weak. Something about the weight, about the plastic of the handle and the thick edge made Jerry curious. Maybe the ''shock'' part of the knife was the fact it was, well, that. If that was the case, he was happy he had another weapon. He cleared his throat and told Michael,

''There,'' as he handed the knife to Michael.

Speaking wasn't his forte, if he were to look badass, he needed to sound badass. Maybe he should work a bit more on voice projection or stop talking like had something covering his mouth.
me by naft
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Fran
Member Avatar
Player
[ *  *  *  * ]
There goes their - well, Michael's - plan. Jerry caught the knife with his free hand and shoved the weapon in his bag. It was nice to learn about the property of the shock knife, though. He now knew about what was so shocking about the knife. This also gave Jerry something new to think about: how to use it. So, it was a taser shaped like a knife and, well, fairly threatening until you looked up close and realized what it was. Also, what was interesting was the function of the knife, the electric current going through it. As Michael's reaction demonstrated, it hurt like a bitch.

So, the knife had its uses, and Jerry, while he didn't want to use it, knew he could rely on it. However, it was a blade as he originally thought so it was a smart move to get the spear done because killing somebody with a fake knife sounds pretty brutal and he'd rather not think about it. At the same time, killing someone with a spear sounds as bad but at least it's only a stab, and not bludgeoning someone to death with a dull blade.

He felt his stomach turn as an image of mangled body appeared in his head, and, once again, he heard the buzzing.

He tried to keep it under control, to keep it tame, to keep behind, to keep it still, but it stayed there. The buzzing, the crawling, the noises, the scratching, the voices, the screaming, the pain was there, right behind his eyes, right behind his smile. He didn't want to let them out again, he wanted to keep them in and quiet. To silence them forever. Yet they kept licking his thoughts, gnawing on his brain, lett-

''So that means this isn't going to work out?''

It stopped, everything stopped. He went back to who he was, to who he should be. He was still Jeremiah Larkin, he hasn't killed anyone, or hurt anyone. He just had to stop thinking about the people he could kill, and everything would be fine. He just had to keep it away.
me by naft
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Fran
Member Avatar
Player
[ *  *  *  * ]
''No.''

He said that without thinking, but it was true. Jerry never was in a fight. He witnessed some during his school years, but could those really count? They were mainly shoves, pushes, punches, kicks, and more or less screaming involved. Most of them weren't real fights too, they were play fights. Nothing to be learned about that but that your friends can start brawl in a moment and be done the second after.

Even while he wanted to become a wrestler, Jerry was just a voyeur. He was never really aggressive, he never wanted to hit anyone. He just wanted to become a professional wrestler just for the novelty, just to be the badass at Christmas that fakes to get beaten up by kids. He wanted to be someone he wasn't, and that's what attracted him to that.

But other than that, other than watching them on TV or imagining himself in one, he never fought anyone as a joke or seriously.

Yet there he was in this life-or-death situation all about fights, about duelling each other, to be the strongest of all. He wished he went through his wrestler dream, not his dancer dream. Well, how could he have known that one day, he'd be stuck here and having these thoughts going through his mind. Still a dancer versus a wrestler, who would win? Not the guy that could be snapped in half, obviously.

What was Michael getting at? Why did he care about Jerry's experiences with fights? Why was it so important to him to ask something like that, right now? After that his plan failed? What was he-

Then, everything clicked.

''Wait, do you want to...?''
Edited by Fran, Oct 1 2016, 08:05 PM.
me by naft
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Fran
Member Avatar
Player
[ *  *  *  * ]
At first, the situation went from one side Jerry didn't want to think about. The whole part of having sex and being intimate was the scariest part of a relationship. It was scary because it involved trust, it involved two people caring about each other. The attachement, the closeness, the openess was a major turn off for Jerry. Not because he didn't care about being in a relationship, but he was scared of being hurt.

So when Michael understood what he meant and not the sex part, a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

But that's where Michael started to become annoying. He talked as if he was in a fucking movie. Oh gosh, he wondered if Michael was able to hear himself talk sometime. He was talking and talking, rambling like a mad man. He wasn't just rambling like a mad man, he was a mad man.

While the whole monologue, Jerry just clenched his jaw and waited for his monologue to end. He needed to stop acting as if he was Rambo or something like that. When Michael shoved his axe in a nearby trunk, Jerry took the signal to raise his fists up. He was not seeing red, but he wasn't seeing white either.

This whole time, he listened to Michael's this and Michael's that. Jerry loved silence and people who were quiet and not screaming all the time. Basically, Michael's, despite being a very charming individual with a lot of potential, behaviors were getting on Jerry's nerve.

As he stood before his living antithesis, Jerry waited for that one moment where Michael would stop talking. Just waiting and when Michael was done, Jerry started swinging. Softly while muttering ''sorry'' and ''oh gosh'' as he waved his fists around.
Edited by Fran, Oct 2 2016, 03:20 PM.
me by naft
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Fran
Member Avatar
Player
[ *  *  *  * ]
Jerry was looking like a mess, felt like shit, and the grogginess in his body didn't make him feel any better. He wanted to go back to sleep, even though his ''bed'' was nothing more than a couple of tires. With all of this things combined, he couldn't care about eating.

Actually, he didn't care about anything. Everything felt numb. Whether it was the stress or the awakening, he didn't like it.

His body, especially his arms and chest, ached from the punches he gave and the punches he received. He didn't want to check under his shirt in fear of finding a yellowish-purple bruise. He was pretty he had more than one, but he rather not know about it.

His throat was asking for water, so Jerry gave some to it right away. With the dryness washed off, he felt able to answer Michael's questions,

"I guess we have the same thing. I didn't bring any snacks."

With the small talk done, Jerry could pass to the serious business of planning ahead. Planning where they'd go, what they'd do, if they wanted to find someone.

He opened his mouth, about to ask his first question when the announcement started.

The dead manifested themselves in front of his face, and one in particular stood out of the rest.

Scarlett.

"Fuck."
me by naft
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Fran
Member Avatar
Player
[ *  *  *  * ]
Jerry felt like throwing up, vomiting everything he had in his stomach and emptying his body on the floor. The knot in his throat was choking him, he couldn't breath. The cat got his tongue and it wouldn't give it back, it kept it just close enough for Jerry to see but a little bit too far for him to reach. He slowly raised his hands to his face while his teeth chattered.

His voice was muted, put on an indefinite hold. As he tried to speak, only a quiet a moan left his body as the tears rained down. He wiped them off with his hands, bit his lips and squeezed his cheeks in an attempt to stop the tears and then he heard the buzzing again. This time however, the bugs were crying with him, they cried the death of Jerry's beloved. That last part may have been one-sided, or even just a crush, but that was the only thing that mattered.

There was only pain in Jerry, nothing else and then

the sadness in his heart was transformed to anger by the name of a girl.

Nancy Kyle.

His tears became napalm, they burned through his eyes and set a fire around him. The bugs were confused for a brief moment their host wasn't fighting them, and they decided to help Jerry. They didn't have much energy left, a lot of them escaped through his tears and moans and sobs and the rest was tired. They wanted to call it a day and go back to sleep, but the buzzing inside of Jerry was needed for his survival. Even though both Jerry and the bugs hated each other, they knew when to cooperate.

His anger evaporated his tears, they disappeared one last time with the wipe of his hands. Tthe bag of Cheetos that rubbed against his eyes wasn't the nicest feeling, but it did the job of quieting the tears.
He gathered up courage, he harvested it on the corpses of the deceased. He could see them, in front of him, he could see her.

He could see her talking.

He could see her smiling.

He could see her beaming.

He could see her happy.

He could see her corpse.

"If we find this Nancy chick," his voice was shaking from the anger, he was horrified about the thing he was about to say, "Please, let me kill her."
me by naft
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Fran
Member Avatar
Player
[ *  *  *  * ]
Before leaving, Jeremiah "Jerry" Larkin decided to watch the place around him, looking crooked and pale. Rather than feeling ill, he felt like he grew roots and he was now engrained. Each of his thoughts were about his revenge and his anger toward Nancy, he felt the hate boiling inside of him. Nothing matter other than the anguish inside of him. Donning a mask, he didn't respond to Michael either. After all, he didn't have to reveal his plan. Nobody could reach him since he was lost in the midst of his thoughts, exploring a world far away from the island, or even the world.

Without a light, the place he explored wasn't a nice one, it was filled with corpses and suffering. It wasn't pretty, nothing was good, everything was rotten to the core. Idealizing the earth, the one that died a long time ago, the one who died quietly in night, he shaped it back up. Laborers dug and constructed mansions. Lovers spread the word about their new hero.

Killjoys showed the real face of Jerry, the real him. ''I didn't think he was like that,'' said many of the lovers and laborers of the new world. Liars decided to bring up the dirt on his shoes, pointing the vile thoughts he had. Ladies of the night enticed Jerry back into the pain of the game, leaving him numb and crying in the bath as he thought about the deads and the losts.

He was now covered in the blood of his victims, yet he stood in the world he shaped. ''I'm sorry,'' he begged to his victims. Many didn't know how to react before the blades fell unto them, before the bullets pierced them, before the hands fed on the air in their throats.

He did it to survive. But in the world he shaped, no-one treated him as the winner. They all treated him as the biggest loser. They either pitied him or feared him. Jerry hated both them, so he removed them from his life. Then he went for the people that adored him, the ones spreading pictures, videos, interviews of him. He made them leave.

Last, he decided to exile out the ones that didn't care, the ones that were indifferent to him,



(Jerry left the set)



and when he was over, God's sentinel was on its way toward him.
me by naft
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
DealsFor.me - The best sales, coupons, and discounts for you
« Previous Topic · Vehicle Depot · Next Topic »
Add Reply