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70's Horror Movies 2: New Wave Massacre; private
Topic Started: Dec 12 2016, 02:03 PM (1,369 Views)
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((Me apologizing to RC, continued from a point where I was unable to figure out any way to put this at the beginning of the post and still have it work))

Voices. Talking. Saying things that Alvaro couldn’t hear. It was familiar. Not the voices, but the situation. It had happened earlier today. Twice. Both times, Alvaro had checked who was talking. Both times, Alvaro had chosen to raise his gun at the situation. Both times, a friend of his had a bullet sent inside of them. The situation was familiar. For the third time today, Alvaro heard voices from afar. He had a gun in his hands. He was a murderer. The thing he had to do was obvious. He had done it before. He could do it again.

But he wasn’t going to.

As he moved, slowly down the hallway, he knew that he wasn’t going to do that. He had hurt people. He had shot somebody, back down in the basement. He had killed Jasper, despite however much he didn’t want to. It wasn’t going to happen for a third time. He wasn’t going to hurt anyone. He wasn’t going to kill.

But he didn’t know who the voices were.

They could be anybody.

They could be saying anything.

He didn’t know what they were saying, so he had to check.

And that was what he was doing. Slowly, down the hall. Step by step, the breaths on his person being muted. He couldn’t be seen. They couldn’t know that he was there. He just had to step in, find out what they were saying, and run. There wasn’t anything he was going to do. The gun was in his hands, but he wasn’t going to use it. In, listen, out. In, listen, out. That’s all there was. That’s all there was going to be.

He was outside, now. Right next to the door. There were voices. They were louder. They were distinct.


Al was in there. Al was talking. He needed water. He could hear that. Al was in the room. He would have liked to go in there, but he knew he couldn’t. He was a murderer. He had killed two of his friends at this point. He wasn’t going to make it three. He wasn’t going to make it three. He knew that. He wasn’t going to do anything. He would just take his steps and walk-


Michael was in there. With Al. Taunting him. Insulting him. Bullying him.

He had to walk away.

He couldn’t show himself. He had killed. He didn’t want to do it again. He didn’t-

But he had to. Al- his friend was in there with Michael. Being bullied. Being mocked.

Being attacked?

He didn’t know.

He had to do something.

He had to help his friend.

He stood, next to the door, clutching the gun in his hands.

Breathe in, breathe out.


The door slammed open. Alvaro’s eyes quickly found their mark.

The gun raised up.

“S-stand down.”
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“I don’t believe you.”

The gun turned. Pointed at Michael. No. He wasn’t telling the truth.Alvaro knew that. He was a bully. He was mean. He had probably killed. He had hurt- was hurting Alvaro’s friend.


He wasn’t telling the truth.

They weren’t the good guys.

He was doing the right thing here.

For once.

“Drop your weapons. Let him go.”

Breathe in, breathe out. One more thing to say. One more thing to do. He had to say something. Do something, to show them. He was serious. He had killed. And they knew that.

Maybe he could use that for a good reason, this time.

Maybe he could use the gun he had for good, now.

“Or else I pull the trigger.”
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It was. Maybe. Probably. Maria had put her weapon down. That was good. They were scared. He knew that if this was like home with the cafe and school and the soccer field that he wouldn’t have liked that and he would have tried to make her think otherwise but she was putting down the sword. That was what mattered. They weren’t going to fight. They weren’t going to attack. He could get his friend away from these two. That was good. That was nice. It meant that he had his friend. It meant that they couldn’t do this to anyone else. It meant that nobody had to die. That was good. That was nice. He could breathe easily. In, out. He could get out of here. He could run away from these two with his friend and they could talk and it would mean he wouldn’t have to be on this island playing this game and he knew he didn’t have to do anything now. He knew that. It was good.

There were a couple things that he still needed to do, though. He knew that. Stopping these two was one of them.

“Um, Al? If you could, um… get the sword from the ground, that would be good. Stop them from doing this again.”

And then a question. Phrased at him. From Michael.

Staring at him in the eye.

He paused.

He wasn’t sure what the answer was.

There was gunfire, apparently. Michael had heard it. That meant that somebody else was in here, with a gun. That wasn’t good.

Or it could have been him.

Michael could know.

But did he?

Alvaro didn’t know.

He didn’t know what the answer was.

But he had to say something.

Do something.

He had the gun. He had his friend.

An answer wouldn’t hurt.

“I… don’t think so.”
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Was it?

He didn’t know.

There was a gun, in the air, pointed at the two. There was something that had happened before. Situation. Alvaro had helped there. Alvaro had stopped that situation. He was happy. Alessio wasn’t going to get hurt now. That was good. That made him happy. But what now? There was a gun, in the air, pointed at the two. There was something that had happened before, but now that situation was over. Michael was in front of him. Maria, too. They had hurt Alessio. They had attacked him. They would have killed him, if Alvaro hadn’t come. But Alessio was gone. He was the only one here.

What happened next?

He didn’t know.

But he was scared.

There was a way Michael was looking at him. The way he responded to his answer. The threat. The bully. The person who had hurt his friend.


He couldn’t stay here.

He didn’t know whether he had done what he did or not, but he had to go. Now.

“That’s it. Yeah. Um…”

He took a step back. Gun still trained.

He was through the door. He looked around.

He couldn’t see Alessio.

...It didn’t matter. He had done what he needed to. Alessio was safe. Alvaro was happy.

He just had to leave. He couldn’t stay here.

And so, with his steps taken, Alvaro ran from the room, as fast as he could.

((Alvaro Vacanti, continued in How Can I Take Off This Mask?))
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