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This Be The Verse; Open
Topic Started: Oct 6 2016, 09:34 PM (2,280 Views)
MK Kilmarnock
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Hate, hate, HATE!!!
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
That was the thing about death. It was one thing to hear or read about it, knowing of it via the news and as a concept that was all around you. It was another thing to witness the body, as if humans needed some sort of confirmation whether visual or auditory in order to process that one of their own had died.

Then, yet, it was one more thing entirely to witness a life being taken right before your very eyes, powerless to stop the chain of events that led to the situation degenerating far enough that somebody might die. Between the entire group, Bradley had met his demise at the end of Kimiko's spear. Coleen stumbled as if in a haze towards the door, circling around Bradley's body and keeping a wide berth as to not catch some sort of imaginary death plague. Far too frantic to appreciate the absurdity of thinking that catching a spear to the gut was somehow contagious, Coleen looked through the flung-open door that Kimiko had retreated through.

She knew by now that it was much too late, both to save Bradley's life and to pursue Kimiko with any realistic chance of catching her. Her attentions turned back to the dead... to Bradley and where he laid on the floor, right cheek drenched in both tears and sweat. Others were still nearer to his body. The girl that she didn't quite know the name of had already gotten a hold of the gun that was once in Bradley's hands. Coleen tensed, knowing that she herself was without a weapon.

People were killing each other. That had become impossible to deny. They were no longer names attached to people she knew who may or may not have become a statistic or a ticker on a news feed. These deaths were real, and now she was being forced to come to terms with it. A strange bitterness entered into the back of her throat, and Coleen had suffered from enough nausea to know what was coming next.

She only got three steps outside before it all came spilling out.
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Laurels
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[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Alba clutched the gun tighter as Arthur started to follow up her comment. His hesitation to finish his sentence made Alba start to feel a bit sick. There was a serious implication in what she was suggesting. Find Kimiko and then... In a place like this, there was generally one option to finish that sentence, and Alba didn't want to finish it.

"Well, we don't have to kill her," Alba said. "I mean, we'd be no better than her if we did that. But she's dangerous, and at the very least, we need to remove her as a threat. I don't know, we can tie her up or something. Take away any other weapons she has. Keep her in place until rescue comes and she can be tried properly. I'm sure there's something we can do besides killing her."

The other girl was puking, which Alba had to turn away from. She had already seen more blood than she was used to, and now the room was beginning to fill with more putrid smells. Alba quickly moved down and began to search Bradley's bag for any additional ammo that might be inside. Alba had never fired a gun before, but if she was taking charge, she'd need to figure out how and fast. Hopefully there was something that could clue her in as to how.

"Okay, so I'll go after Kimiko. I'm sure I can catch her and bring her back here to be dealt with. Does anyone want to come with me?"
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[ *  *  *  * ]
Arthur zipped up his bag, putting it on top of his bed, his eyes sweeping the room just in time to see Coleen walk outside the building to throw up. Suddenly, Arthur's own throat began to feel very dry. He turned himself away from the spectacle, his eyes resting on the corpse at the center of the room. At the very least, he couldn't suddenly start bleeding just by looking at blood. Arthur knew that when it came to vomit, he didn't have the strongest of constitutions.

That could've been me.

The thought crept up into his mind from beneath, wrapping cold fingers around his throat from the inside out. If Arthur had intervened, or said the wrong thing, any number of things could've happened to him.

Bradley could've panicked and opened fire.

Kimiko might see him as a threat and lunge with her spear.

As the nameless girl went on about finding Kimiko, Arthur's mind wandered to the paintball gun he had laid on the floor, propped on the wall against his makeshift bed. He turned around and picked it up, studying it with his fingers. A toy gun could be the only thing saving Arthur from certain death. He shivered, before turning back around.

"If you want to knock her out of the running," Arthur said, cradling the now familiar gun in his hands, "This might do the trick. Ever been shot with a paintball? Me neither. I hear they sting. Hard. Should be enough to incapacitate her without actually...without..."

Arthur shook his head. "You know what I mean."

Was he going to leave Coleen, just like that? Of course not. He wanted to bring her with him; he needed to make sure that no one died on his watch.

His eyes wandered once more, back to the body.

He needed to make sure that nobody else died, not while he was around. Not Coleen, not Bryony, not the nameless girl and not even Kimiko.

Not while he was still breathing.
~~~~~ Creativity's Burning Pyre ~~~~~

NOW: V7

DEAD: V6

MAYBE: V?
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Pippin
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party wurmple never sleeps. only dances.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Through the tear stained glass in front of her eyes, the impossible scene in front of her refused to change. It couldn’t be real, there was no way it could, but she had already established she wasn’t dreaming, and it was painfully clear this wasn’t a prank. Bradley wasn’t about to sit up and wipe the fake blood from his clothes. Alba wasn’t going to put down the prop gun and tell Bryony everything was going to be all right. Someone had died. Someone had died in front of her very eyes.

The void disappeared, and all her emotions came flooding back. Bryony let out a choked sob, and she slid down the wall until she was curled up against herself, hands still pressed hard against her mouth. She had hated Bradley at school. He’d been a living nightmare, a terrifying presence whenever he raised his voice to make one of his trademark jokes.

But he hadn’t deserved to be slaughtered like this. He hadn’t deserved to die at all. He wasn’t a murderer himself, or any kind of criminal. He was just a stupid, arrogant boy, who had stepped too far over someone’s personal boundaries.

And Bryony could have stopped him.

She had been less than a foot away from him whilst he was speaking. She had tried to say something, tried to bring him around, but she hadn’t tried hard enough. If only she had raised her voice, if only she had grabbed his arm, if only she had done… something more.

Bradley was dead, and Bryony couldn’t stop herself from believing she was part of the reason why.

Now that the void had gone, she could just about make out what Alba and Arthur were talking about, over her gentle sobs and the thudding of her terrified heart. Alba held the gun now, Bradley’s gun, and for a brief moment, Bryony felt herself stop breathing, certain her erstwhile ally was going to turn the weapon on the rest of the group. But as more words managed to make their way into her brain, it became increasingly clear just what their plan was going to be.

If anything, it was an even scarier proposition.

Slowly, legs threatening to collapse underneath her, Bryony pushed herself back up to a standing position. A quick brush of a balled up fist against her eyes did nothing to help her clouded vision, but she still trudged forwards to where Alba and Arthur were standing. Her hands were shaking, but as she placed her right on top of the gun, her grip was surprisingly firm.

“Please… Please don’t do this…”
V7 BAYBEE

FOLDER OF DESTINY

"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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MK Kilmarnock
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[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Coleen spat to force some of the disgustingly acidic taste out of her mouth. She looked down as if to 'admire' the mess that she had made. The splatters on the path leading up to the gym were mostly white, no doubt thanks to almost all of her food intake in the last 24 hours consisting of crackers and bread. Man, the things she would do for a damn hot pocket right now...

She subconsciously clutched at her stomach. She was hungry now, thanks to having purged the contents of her stomach so soon after eating. Somewhat more accurately, her body was hungry. Coleen doubted she had the heart to eat anything, not after seeing what made her throw up in the first place. She timidly stepped back past the threshold of the gym's double doors, trying not to look at Bradley's body on the floor. Keeping a shoulder to the wall, she inched over to her bag and pulled out a bottle of water, swigging and swishing some water around before swallowing - anything to get that accursed taste out of her mouth.

Arthur was talking with the other girl about going after Kimiko. One paint gun, one gun that was presumably real... she supposed on paper that was enough firepower to take somebody out. Coleen didn't want to see it. The discussion on the cards was about bringing Kimiko back more than killing her, but that wasn't something she feasibly saw happening.

"I'm not going..." Coleen muttered softly. "I want to stay here. I don't want any... any part in..." she gestured, at a loss for words of the situation that had encapsulated all of them. "I don't even have a weapon. Just some stupid DVD set."
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Laurels
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[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Alba felt slightly shocked when Bryony put a hand on the gun and begged her to not go after Kimiko. Maybe it was the weight of the gun being disturbed by Bryony's touch, or maybe it was just reality crashing in. Bryony looked really sad, much like Alba's younger sister whenever she fell down. Alba bit her lip and looked over Bryony. She was the first person she saw when she woke up on this island, and Alba did say she'd look after Bryony.

"Bry, I'm sorry, but we can't let Kimiko keep killing people," Alba said.

It didn't look like anyone else was ready to go with her. Alba looked around at the others.

"Look, I'll try to be quick about this," Alba said. "I'll find her, take her items, and maybe bring her somewhere she can't hurt anyone. Then I'll run back here. I mean, this gym looks like a good hideout if we move some of the furniture and equipment around."

Alba smiled.

"I'll be fine. I know I'll be."
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Bryony. Coleen. Neither of them were coming with them.

Except the nameless girl spoke like she was alone. Like Arthur wasn't going to join her. Like he didn't exist.

Was he going to go with her? He still wasn't sure. He knew Bryony and Coleen weren't going, and he needed to make sure they ended up alright.

For their safety.

For his own safety.

"Okay," Arthur said finally. He backed up, took a seat on the weight lifting bench. Staring down at the gun in his hands, Arthur began to wonder how it'd feel to be shot. Not just by a paintball, but by a real life bullet, of which there were probably many in the hands of his classmates.

Did he trust them? Any of them at all?

Did it really matter?

Arthur couldn't look up at the nameless girl, or Bryony, or over to Coleen, or over to...

To...

He couldn't even think of the corpse's name, as if speaking it internally was going to curse him to the same fate. It wasn't even a person to him anymore. Just a statue, never living, never dying, caught in the middle of fulfilling an unspoken yet eternal pact, that being that he would, some day, die, in exchange for the opportunity to live. Even in death, red liquid pooled at his knees, staining the ground, leaving one last mark on the space it had once lived through. The universe, in its unending, incomprehensible mentality, had merely let go of one last afterthought, casting it away into its crimson pool of forgotten memories and unwanted desires, unwelcome guilt and feelings rarely felt.

Bradley Floyd died a fool, held in utter contempt by all who had surrounded him in his final moments.

Maybe not all, but Arthur knew that at the very least one of them had felt that he had it coming.

Arthur shut his eyes, listening to the room around him swirl and stutter in its heavy silence.
~~~~~ Creativity's Burning Pyre ~~~~~

NOW: V7

DEAD: V6

MAYBE: V?
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Pippin
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party wurmple never sleeps. only dances.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Nobody seemed set to listen to her.

Coleen was the most understandable. She seemed completely out of it, looking just as traumatised as Bryony was feeling. She barely acknowledged anyone in particular, talking to the room as a whole, only caring that her words got out there. She didn’t look like she was in any state to move right now, let alone try and capture a double murderer, armed only with a set of DVDs.

But Alba…

She seemed so confident. So certain that her plan was going to result in success. It wasn’t even as if Bryony disagreed with the principle of the idea. They weren’t planning on killing Kimiko, or even trying to harm her if possible. They were just trying to make sure she didn’t end up killing anybody else until they all, hopefully, got rescued. It was a noble idea, really.

And yet if half of a group was so vocally opposed to going along with such a noble idea, surely there had to be some issue with it.

Bryony looked directly at Alba with huge, watery, pleading eyes. The other girl tried to assure her that she and Arthur would be fine, but Bryony couldn’t see any way in which they would be. Yes, they had a gun, a weapon that, as far as they were all aware of, was very real and very deadly. But that was the sticking point; it was a deadly weapon they weren’t planning on using. It was going to be for intimidation purposes at best. Alba might as well have been carrying around a wooden replica.

Bryony wasn’t underestimating Kimiko. No matter her reasons for the first kill, no matter that she had been goaded into a second kill via Bradley’s words, she almost certainly had some brains to her. She had to assume that there were going to be people literally gunning for her now. That there were going to be people trying to kill her regardless of her reputation.

She wasn’t going to stay weaponless for long.

Arthur said one word. ‘Okay’. ‘Okay,’ as though Bryony’s pleas were nothing, as if Alba’s attempted assurance would be enough to settle her down and to convince her that they were going to return here with Kimiko trussed up safe and sound, completely unharmed and happy.

Something inside of Bryony broke. She screwed up her eyes, a couple of rogue tears falling to the floor from behind her glasses. She felt her hands ball up into tight fists. She opened her eyes again, staring directly into Alba’s own.

“Please!”

The word came out louder than even Bryony had expected. It wasn’t quite a shout, but there was definite force behind it, a far cry from her normal meek tones. There was a fire within her, a fire born from terror and frustration, true, but once a fire starts to burn, its origin ceases to matter.

“You can’t... you can’t take this so casually! You’re not going to shoot Kimiko with that gun… right? So… So how do you think she’s going to react when she sees someone with a weapon coming at her? Someone who looks like they’re going to get revenge on her for… for killing their ally? She doesn’t know you’re not going to harm you, she’s not… she’s not going to f-fucking believe you if you tell her that!”

Tears were flooding down Bryony’s face now, sweat sticking strands of her hair to her forehead and cheeks. She paused, trying desperately to breathe, chest tight and throat sore.

“Please… you can’t do this. I don’t want you to get… I don’t want you to get… hurt…”
V7 BAYBEE

FOLDER OF DESTINY

"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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MK Kilmarnock
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Hate, hate, HATE!!!
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"I'm going to go lay down."

It was the only way Coleen thought to chime in. What else was there to say? Arthur and the girl who wasn't Byrony, the girl whose name Coleen's mind couldn't conjure up no matter how hard she tried, they were both set on going and she wasn't sure she could change their minds. She wasn't sure how much she cared to change them, either. She only laughed weakly at a joke in her head, perhaps inspired by the late Bradley.

"If one of you wants to kill me, at least wait until I'm asleep, okay?"

The girl crumpled in the corner with her back to the wall, hair draped messily over her face with only her arms to serve as a pillow.

"I hate this," she whispered. "I fucking... I hate all of this."
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Alba felt a lump in her throat when Bryony made her plea. Arthur and the other girl didn't have much else to say, but Bryony had a lot. Bryony was right. Kimiko wasn't likely to take Alba coming at her with a gun without a fight, and Alba was likely to get hurt or worse. She did promise to protect Bryony, and stopping Kimiko would be doing that. But it would mean leaving Bryony behind to possibly get hurt by other people, or for Alba to get killed before she could protect Bryony.

These choices began to weigh on Alba. She needed to make a decision. The longer she waited, the further Kimiko got away. But she couldn't just leave Bryony.

That's when she made a decision.

"Okay, I won't leave you," Alba said. "But I want to at least try and find her."

Alba held Bradley's gun closer.

"I'll take a quick look outside," Alba said. "I won't go too far, but I'll come back if I can't find her."

Alba gave a smile at Bryony.

"Don't worry. I'll come back. Just wait here for me."

Alba turned and hurried out the door of the gym. She didn't bother looking to see if anyone else was going to follow. She wasn't expecting to finding Kimiko, but if she did, she needed a plan. At the very least, she needed to remember where the gym was so she could get back to Bryony.

((Alba Reyes continued in This time I might just disappear))
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Arthur opened his eyes just in time to see the nameless girl leave the room. He could tell, deep down, that she wouldn't be coming back for a long, long time. Bryony's pleading had almost been enough for him to stand up and do something, almost enough for him to take charge, but every time he felt a surge of courage begin to flow through him, the smell of blood wafted up to his nostrils once more, and he was defeated. The nameless girl was stronger than he was. He had conceded, in front of Coleen, in front of Bryony, and in front of his sister miles away. He felt useless. He hated feeling useless.

"I'm not going with her," Arthur said, finally pulling himself up off of the bench with wobbly knees and a broken spirit. He turned toward Bradley's corpse, the sting of death hitting his eyes anew, screaming at him to look away. This can't just stay here, Arthur thought, Nobody should have to be reminded of this any longer. Slowly, he walked toward the corpse, each step bringing the scent of death closer to his nostrils.

"I'm gonna move him out of the way," He announced, "I can't look anymore, I don't want to, and I don't think anybody does." Reluctantly, as if having to push through a viscous bubble, he reached down and felt Bradley's shoulders. The stiffness of the body made Arthur sick, the crazed look on Bradley's face adding more fuel to the flame. Arthur knew that if he was going to get Bradley's body anywhere, he was going to have to take the spear out of his chest. He just wasn't sure if he could work it up within himself to do it while Bryony and Coleen were in the room. He put his hands around the wooden shaft a thousand different ways, but none of them felt workable. Defeated, he sighed deeply before reaching underneath Bradley's armpits and lifting him up. His feet still dragged on the ground, and Arthur hated the angle he had to stand at to avoid being poked by the hilt of the spear, but he was mobile.

Slowly, Arthur began to drag the body out towards the door.
~~~~~ Creativity's Burning Pyre ~~~~~

NOW: V7

DEAD: V6

MAYBE: V?
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Pippin
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party wurmple never sleeps. only dances.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
There was a sickening feeling of déjà vu about all of this.

Bryony had never given less than 100% to anything she put her mind to in her life. Every sketch, every piece of schoolwork, every earnest attempt to make friends. Even when she was at her lowest ebb, even when she was enduring the worst of Bethany’s taunts and insults, she tried as hard as she possibly could in her current situation; tried to endure, tried to ignore them, tried to persevere with her life as well she could.

And yet, so often, it didn’t seem to matter. She did her best. She always did. But half the time there was something in her way, something that kicked her not when she was down but when she was clambering to her feet, something that rendered her best efforts completely irrelevant.

She had poured her heart out to Alba, begged her to stay, thrown any semblance of dignity out the window in her efforts to keep this girl alive, this girl who she had barely known for more than a day, yet it hadn’t been enough. Alba had clearly already set her mind on leaving and going after Kimiko. No amount of pleading seemed likely to change that. And yet, as the other girl gave her one last smile and hurried out of the gym, Bryony tried anyway.

“Alba! Alba, please, wait! Alba!”

She would have said more, she wanted desperately to find the right thing that would cause Alba to stop and turn back, but her throat and her lungs just couldn’t take anymore. They felt like they were closing up, blocking her breathing, choking the life from her. She had unconsciously taken several steps forwards as she had been crying out to Alba, but she was forced to stop, tears streaming down her face and dripping against the floor, forcing herself to take short, haggard breaths.

The minutes passed like hours until Bryony was able to breathe again. By that time, Alba was long, long gone. She had said she would come back as soon as she could. Chances were, that would still take a very, very long time.

In all of the white noise and haze of her emotional overload, Bryony hadn’t noticed that Alba had run off on her own. It was only when Arthur moved forwards to carry away Bradley’s body that she realised this. Too numb to feel much of anything, let alone feeling pathetic at her current state, she stared at Arthur through tear-stained glasses, as if bewildered at what she was seeing.

“You’re… you’re not going with her?”

Her voice was a whisper, almost certainly inaudible to the remaining few left in the gym. She removed her glasses, looking down at the blurry lenses. Her hands weren’t shaking anymore, but that was more thanks to the overall hollow feeling that encompassed her right now. With that hollowness came a single, all important thought; Alba was heading out into the wilderness on her own, chasing after a double murderer who was almost certainly going to kill her as soon as she saw the gun in her hands.

No-one else in here was going to try and chase after her. As far as Bryony saw it, there was only one thing she could possibly do in this situation. Alba had to be talked down, wherever she was now.

“Please stay safe, then… don’t… don’t do anything stupid…”

Bryony wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, replaced her glasses, and ran past Arthur out the door.

((Bryony Adams continued in Lavender))
V7 BAYBEE

FOLDER OF DESTINY

"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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MK Kilmarnock
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[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Messy strands of gold framed a picture that saw Byrony running out the door.

Alba. Her name was Alba. Good to know. Now when the announcements the next day began to list off all the names, Coleen could know which one to listen for to see if yet another person she ran into had just died. Feelings still had yet to wash over her and hit the pit of her stomach like a drop of ice cold water. For the moment, she figured with what lucidity she wagered herself to possess that the recent experiences had left her numb, and that she was still trapped in the numbness. More tears would fall. And then what? She could feel sorry for herself, or end her own life on the same spear that had helped to take Bradley's life. Falling on a spear... an appropriate way for an actress with a flair for the melodramatic to die.

Coleen tried to think back on the events of the previous day. By that time, it was the worst day of her life only by virtue of the fact that the next day hadn't yet occurred. Any sadness she felt through waking up, or fear from thinking her life was coming to an end, or even a rush of excitement as she ran... she combed her memory to try and feel something, to draw on that and use it to determine how to act. She scraped at the bottom of a dry well with still no results. It was only one day ago by logical thought, and it already felt far away. Distant. Inaccessible.

It was as if, somewhat paradoxically, time was no longer an object to her. She always figured that, if she knew her days were numbered by some sort of terminal illness or a death sentence for a crime she knew she'd never commit (such was the fun of a purely hypothetical situation), each day would become more and more precious. Each day would be defined and the hours would slow. Those thoughts were wrong. As death hung over all of them like a loose chandelier threatening to drop at the slightest provocation, individual moments became less important. Minutes bled into each other by the hour, and now even the simple order of a given series of events was tough to follow... on only the second day, no less.

Bradley's corpse lay somewhere outside the block wall of the gymnasium. Though he... though it was out of sight it was no less a poignant reminder of what was coming for all of them. When it did come, it most likely wouldn't be painless. Would she even have time to scream, make it nice and dramatic for the cameras? Bradley's gurgling haunted her endlessly. That could be her. That would be her. Unless...

Somewhere inside her chest, a knot was tying itself tighter and tighter. It hurt, but the pain was more than welcome, for it reminded Coleen that she was alive. In turn, it reminded her that she wanted to be alive. A sob pushed itself through her lips before she could think about it.

Then, only then, did she allow the tears to fall.
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"Well," Arthur said to the wind, "This is a fine mess you've gotten yourself into."

Bradley's corpse lay propped up against the outer wall of the gym, out of sight from the door. When he left with Coleen, he didn't want to have to look at it ever again. He heard footsteps pattering off in the distance, away from the gymnasium, and guessed that it had been Bryony's turn to leave. If she felt that she could make it on her own, then fine. He didn't mind. There were worse things that could have happened to her than running away. What if Coleen had snapped, or something? Crazier things had happened.

Arthur was alone, with the body, and the air on his tongue, and he hated every second of it. Not just the air, poisoned with the smell of death, but how he had began to think about Bradley as some sort of temple, a sacred object. Even his thoughts, for the most part, stayed clean of any words of disrespect toward the dead.

"This is hell," Arthur murmured, "No two ways about it. This is the end of the line for everybody."

Had any plans he made gone through? Were any of the thoughts running around his mind going to manifest into reality? Arthur thought he would stay with Henry and Jasper, and he left them as soon as he saw someone else walking his way. He promised to himself that he'd make sure that nobody would get hurt while he was around, and he knew where that ended up getting him. Arthur's promise to go with the nameless girl to find Kimiko? Empty. Arthur's promise to make sure that Bryony stayed safe, as well as Coleen? Void. His promise he made to his mother, in heaven above, that Marie would never have to see him broken and defeated? Broken the moment it was made.

Arthur bit down on his tongue. Hard. If Bradley's body was sacred, he was about to commit a cardinal sin.

Without thinking, he stomped his foot into Bradley's chest, grabbed the spear with all the force he could muster, and pulled it out, listening to the sickening squelch it made as it slid from its place. A torrent of blood spilled out after it, making the body newly wet with red. Arthur stepped backward, reeling from the impact that taking the spear had made, and thus avoided getting any more blood on himself than he already had. He turned the spear around in his hands. The wood had splintered slightly around the tip, and the metal end was dripping with viscera, but it was a better weapon than the miserable excuse for a gun he had started with. Turning away from the wind, Arthur spun the spear around in his hands, drips of blood and loose splinters flung onto the ground before him.

He looked over the weapon once more, decided it was clean enough, and went back inside to find Coleen standing in the corner, softly weeping.

"Deed's done," He said, a touch of venom to his words. He tapped the ground with the base end of the spear and heard the sound resonate through the gym.

"So, do you want me to leave you be, or do you want to come with me? Because I'm not going to stay here for long, and I don't want you linger here too long either."
~~~~~ Creativity's Burning Pyre ~~~~~

NOW: V7

DEAD: V6

MAYBE: V?
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MK Kilmarnock
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Hate, hate, HATE!!!
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Much as she wanted to spit at Arthur, to tell him to go away and leave her with her own miseries, Coleen couldn't bear to do it. Which was the correct decision, to stay here, to venture on alone or go with Arthur? He had one weapon, at least one real weapon now. Her eyes removed themselves from the spear and avoided looking at the tip, lest she find a piece of Bradley still clinging to it.

She'd never survive alone. All of this had convinced her that she did, indeed, want to live. She didn't want to end up like the body outside.

"Let's go," Coleen murmured. "Let's... let's get the hell out of here."

She never wanted to see this building again.

((Coleen Reagan continued in Honeysuckle and Pain))
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Spoilers, Ricky didn't win V5

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