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
Coming Out Of The Closet; Yep
Topic Started: Nov 3 2016, 08:01 PM (1,663 Views)
Cicada Days
Member Avatar
keep running yoshi
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
((Ben Fields continued from Forget About What I Said))

Things were heavy now. Ben had to keep his head shoved slightly down, a falsely advertised interest in the contour of his beat up cleats. He could sort of remember them still, the second set of announcements. Not really in the tone, that had already become ambiance like the creaks of tepid, still air. Of killers maybe shuffling along in the distance. In the names. He'd told himself, what had it been? Yesterday? He'd told himself that he wouldn't be caught passing on eulogies to the nonexistent generation to follow Cochise's damned. He'd told himself that yesterday. And he'd meant it.

He could still hear old Jasmine's voice whispering rumors and grandeur into his ear. Jane, Sabrina, Sanford- it was Sandy, he vaguely recalled- Bradley, Jerry, Mitch, Danny, Samuel. The other names that had come up didn't matter, except for how they set Ben's blood to a slow simmer of a boil.

One other name no longer mattered. All of them had trusted that motherfucker. They'd thought he was harmless. What had that aspie stolen, when it came down to it? Their trust? Maybe their dignity. Ben didn't know what was worse. Maybe a blow to the pride somehow hurt more, like the swing of solid iron against his chest. Fuck that kid. Ben would have run himself straight off the roof of this damned place, shouting his head off bloody suicide, if he hadn't remembered there were bigger problems. Bigger targets. Bigger names, than the freak of nature Ben had once called Henry Spencer.

But so far, they hadn't found shit. The asylum was the biggest, most obvious fucking place on the island. Maybe that was why it was seemingly abandoned. Ben was about ready to call it. He didn't know where it was they needed to go, but anyone hiding themselves away in a basement's worth of rust and decay wasn't the sort who'd let themselves be announced. In body, in name. If this search turned up nothing they had to go... somewhere. Ben needed to think about that somewhere, but it was where they needed to go.

"Fuck this. Holy fucking shit, this is fucked."

Ben dashed around the corner, almost headbutting his way through Matt.

Ben had never expected a casualty of war to go quite like this. People who actually knew how to write liked to call death 'peaceful'. Peaceful as the churning in Ben's gut, sure. This was a scene no words would ever adequately describe. This was what was being done to them. A camera's worth of gore, of indecency. Their last moments of agony coldly taped while they were unceremoniously shoved away into a corner, crumpled into crunchy bits of discarded homework. The last, ugly rites the boys and girls of Cochise would be allowed.

Ben's fist found, slightly pulverized the door frame. He only realized how loud he was when his voice, pitched more than he ever otherwise allowed, bounced right back at him.

"Fuck. This is what we need to be stopping-... Why the hell are we letting this happen!?" Ben was already turning the gears of his body away, as much as his eyes stayed stuck on the red carpet that had been laid out over the floor for them to walk on.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Cicada Days
Member Avatar
keep running yoshi
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
"Who the fuck did this?"

"..."

'Who' evaded him, sets of syllables encoded in the language of the dead. Names like Sandy Bricks, Ben could remember those. Honest names, straight off the Cochise registration sheets. But some names, they no longer seemed to be names to Ben. The melting scoop of dung that was once a functioning high schooler's brain had slopped straight off the spoon. Down his spine, in one agonizingly long frisson Ben struggled to keep a steady chest against. Matt almost ran into Ben. Some sort of half assed instinct toppled Ben's flat feet, he tried to back up himself. Almost gave Nate a face full in the process.

It was disturbing, how stoic Nate had suddenly become. Glassy eyed, and Ben could almost see the corpse stenciled in technicolor over Nate's corneas.

"Nancy."

"It was Nancy Kyle." Hm. Who was 'Nancy Kyle'? Maybe that question mattered, maybe it didn't. It was the sort of question Ben knew he didn't care about. The sort of question that only became an answer when you chased after it. With whips, and guns.

"We have to get out of here."

The dead liked to rest in peace. One of those old wise sayings sourced from the winds and mother's talk. It definitely wasn't a peaceful scene, but the gaggle of idiots standing around under the terrorist's lenses probably didn't do it any further justice. Justice, rather, existed elsewhere.

"Come on." Ben pivoted on the spot, but found Nate was still in his way. All five whatever feet of him, immovable as the marble curve of Lady Justice's back.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Cicada Days
Member Avatar
keep running yoshi
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
It was time to go. To march, to hunt. To fight. To win. But Nate was still in the way, and time was running out.

Maybe it was time to speak. Nate's proposal was a reed to chew on. It was an aside glance at the nearest camera as its timestamps quietly ticked on, unseen and unheard. For that camera there was all the time in the world. For them there wasn't enough time. His circadian rhythm itself ticked on sleepless. Inertia was a weight in the spurs of his heels, rubber soles eroded away and stained the ombre reds of wasted, despoiled humanity.

"None of us have to do this."

And yet some of them already had.

"Yeah." Ben's voice was mute, measured in glass bottles half broken onto the floor. "We could talk." He looked Nate in the eyes. Ben had always been told he had eyes that were small, empty, almost walking dead. Maybe once he'd thought of them as badass, the rare windows to the soul that came with drawn blinds.

"We could talk, and I guess we will. But Matt's right. Nancy, all the rest of them..." All the rest of them in name, whatever those names had once been. "They made their decisions. Even if we talk to them what the fuck do you think they're going to say?" Matt had used the word 'girlfriend'. That was very much the case, Ben knew. Those names had once been the names of daughters, sons. Lovers. Learners, teachers. Friends. Brothers... Maybe sisters.

Once.

"I don't think there's anything left to say, Nate." Ben had tried to say things before it had come to this. And here he was now. After the terrorists, the fucking terrorists, had gotten their grubby gore-flecked hands onto the final say.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Cicada Days
Member Avatar
keep running yoshi
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Nate was right. They didn't know why people had killed.

But they knew that people had killed. An infallible truth, that. A truth that Ben understood even when there was so much left to understand. An understanding that furiously hurt, that burned every part of his body to scorched and salted earth.

Something shifted, in a corner of the room.

Ben realized. The corpses, the cameras had eaten up so much of their attention they'd missed a couple of the other details. A door. A backroom.



"He has a gun."

That detail, on the other hand, was not easy to miss.

Ben wasn't going to raise his arms, not like Matt. Now was not the time for that. He felt his fists clench, fingernails digging themselves a grave on his palm. But otherwise, he stood stock still. Matt was almost not taller than him, so he could see past. And be seen. Recognition, perhaps, would be key.

"Alvaro." That was the name. Alvaro. Ben had almost forgotten. Ben's voice had dropped half an octave, onto a note that was flat and dull. His soulless eyes searched, through the murkiness of what light was left in the room. Maybe when he looked into Alvaro's eyes he'd see exactly what he knew, feared he was going to see. Maybe his eyes weren't the only dead ones in here, now. Maybe a reckoning was to come, on the blur of a bullet and the swing of a fist.

"Alvaro, you recognize me, right? Your old pal, Ben Fields?" There had been more innocent days with Alvaro once. 'That cool guy who teaches me how to play chess when I ask'. His sister had said that.

Once.

Ben glanced back over his shoulder, at Nate. For just a microsecond, some dark anxiety keeping his eyes from going all the way.

"I don’t know why anyone’s killing anyone, and maybe they don’t know either."

Maybe they were about to learn.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Cicada Days
Member Avatar
keep running yoshi
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Nate charged forward. Straight into the breach. Ben could hear it in Nate's voice, something along the lines of an outburst. Of friendly joy. Of pants pissing. Something in between. There was no weapon for Ben to put down. Except maybe his hands. Those drooped a bit to the floor, as his fists relaxed.

Ben didn't like this. He didn't like that he was relaxing. Idling. He didn't like that there were bodies between him and danger. That if it came to action, that if Alvaro looked their way and saw nothing but the chance for flying bullets...

That Ben wouldn't be the one to do what needed to be done. But then, who knew if it would be Nate or Matt filling that role themselves? Ben remembered the things they'd said. He remembered the things he'd said. Problematic, those things. Troubling arguments for the future. Specifically, for their future.

Whatever the camera was catching it probably didn't look that good.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Cicada Days
Member Avatar
keep running yoshi
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Wasn't much left to figure out here. Nothing left to say. Empty space, empty eyes between the two of them as Ben slowly began to step forward. Pull his profile out from behind Nate's. He had to look his enemy in the eyes, but he already knew what he was going to see. It was all too familiar, looking into the eyes of the bullied. The bullies. Nothing. A void filled by a distant, hollow tapping. Morse for 'please please please stop it'. There was nothing left to stop. The finger on that gun's trigger was already pulled, again and again. Ben didn't fucking know why, but he knew that he had once known the boy whose hand was ready to end their lives. He no longer knew.

Ben began to walk forward. Something like adrenaline or anger was the spur to his boot, steadying each step. Aching, creaky steps closer to the gun.

Nate was still in the firing line. Ben had to get him out, at all costs.

"Don't do it." Ben wasn't even sure where to look when he said that. He could look death in the eyes, maybe. But anything worth looking at there had been gone, maybe even before it had produced the death of a man. Barry Banks. Gone. Ben Fields. Soon to follow. Hm. His body begged him to rebel, to flee. But Ben didn't know his body anymore. He only knew how to march forward.

Last words were supposed to be glorious. Awesome, manly. Ben knew that.

But he didn't know what else to say.

Nate was close, just a hunk of shoulder between them. If Ben could trust his own reflexes he could still get Nate out. But he didn't know if he could trust his body, the crumbling remnants of it. He hadn't even meant to shake his head weakly, indecisively. Hadn't meant to show weakness as he made the last, irreverent attempt at negotiation. But he had.

His eyes didn't waver at the last second, they didn't betray his mortality. Ben met Alvaro on that battlefield. Reflected him on it.

"... Don't do it."

It wasn't the right thing to say.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Cicada Days
Member Avatar
keep running yoshi
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
One hand engulfing the tininess of Nate's arm. Ben pulled with all his strength.

It took something like a second or an eternity. Just long enough to feel the pain. Ben's arm had crumpled, muscle and bone, while he'd forced Nate out of the way. Turned out that bullets broke the skin handily, and broke everything else. He'd been shot. No heroics, no one liners. There had been words, but words had failed. All the conversation had been had become bullets, and those bullets now found a home in Ben's arm.

He tried to keep his body tense. Battle ready. His wounds were nervous, betrayed his weakness. Strength failed him, and he fell backwards. A dead-weight impact on his ass, barely felt.

Adrenaline was familiar. Comfortable like a blanket. Something to bite on, like the surgery patients of yore. Anesthesia to keep him from screaming.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Cicada Days
Member Avatar
keep running yoshi
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Ben could hear the echos. Noises, but they weren't coming from his ears. Screams, but they were coming from his nerves. Juicy, pulpy bone fragments were like shrapnel to his arm. He gulped down the shuddering moans of pain. Gulped for air, but he only seemed to get little sips. Dribbles from life's lardy teat.

Ben's face was blank. Void as the coupons and receipts in the kitchen drawers of yesteryear, void as the pairs of eyes left sifting through the smoldering wreckage and brackish puddles.

Ben watched the shooter stand. Their eyes met, but Ben was pretty sure neither of them were actually looking at each other. What was there left to see? A wreck of a boy.

And someone he'd once known as Alvaro.

He could still make a difference. Make this his final, honest to goodness meaningful stand. His Bastogne, through the rocket's blood red glare. Prove something to anyone who watched and cared to understand what they were watching. Prove... something. Fucking something. Maybe something like bullets not being the final word. Maybe that there was something else, something better, worth saying still. But, maybe. Maybe that was wrong. Maybe the only word that would matter in the end would be the bullets. They'd be the final word, the good-bye. All of Ben's life would be a flash, a blip. His final moments would be a blur, kicking and screaming and heaving like a little pittance of bits and pieces of baby. For all the world to see.

Ben could hear his own blood through the hollows of his ears. The electric sound of a flatline. Cold and sterile.

He'd promised his the powers that be, on behalf of his dad. Promised them all he'd be something. That he'd make a difference.

Promises. The world couldn't see those. Every other time he'd promised, he'd held his head up high, stiff, proud against adversity. He'd marched forward. Right into the enemy. Right into his own idiotic demise. And that's all the world knew of Ben Fields. The world didn't know promises, thoughts. It knew words, it knew actions. It knew the things Ben had failed at.

It knew he was running. That he was just merely running. Vaulting from the floor, running and panting, and shedding flakes of blood and flakes of skin skittering to earth in his wake. An explosion of Ben towards the door, an explosion of bullets in his wake. But he was faster, and he made the home run with a flailing of feet beneath him. A grunt and a slide, and he couldn't see anything except for the exit anymore. Not his killer-to-be, not his audience. Least of all himself.

Ben retreated. He knew the word for this one, at least.

So did everyone the world over else.

Coward.

((Ben Fields continued in Haunted Reality))
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
ZetaBoards - Free Forum Hosting
Free Forums with no limits on posts or members.
Learn More · Sign-up for Free
« Previous Topic · Water Treatment · Next Topic »
Add Reply