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Violence Is Usually The Answer; Bad life advice from Isabel.
Topic Started: Dec 24 2016, 01:45 AM (814 Views)
VoltTurtle
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The girl who dreams on the back of a giant space turtle.
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((Isabel Ramirez continued from TFW you'll never find out what's in the basement))

Isabel felt at home as she sat in the dank and musty shower room behind the water treatment room.

Her back was pressed against the wall as she slowly slid a damp rag along the length of her sword, her sickle and flashlight sitting on the ground next to her, the flashilight illuminating the corner of the room she sat in. The blood that had coated her sword had begun to stink, and Isabel didn't want any chance of someone detecting her in case she needed to hide. The blood that had coated her sweater didn't stink, fortunately enough, perhaps because it had been absorbed into fabric rather than coating a non-porous metal.

Isabel eye's flitted over to the airlock-like doors separating the showers from the main room. There had been several bodies in there, all murdered fairly brutally, the handiwork of another student no doubt. Whoever did it was obviously long gone after a bit of careful examination of the room, and clear signs of who murdered who had begun to rot in the damp air. If Isabel had to guess, it was probably that Nancy girl, knowing the details she remembered from the announcements. Idiots fought her head on when they could have just turned tail and run, or maybe engaged her with a surprise attack.

Isabel rubbed the cloth on the end of the sword, getting off the last bits of Danny's blood. The stench from the corpses had been awful when she had entered, but thankfully the doors in the back seemed to keep the worst of it out of the showers, and Isabel got the security she needed to clean her sword and take a breather after all the events of the day.

Isabel smiled as she wiped away the last of the blood on the tip of her sword and examined her work. All nice and polished, ready for anyone that dare try to stop her from winning... or anyone else, for that matter.

She scooted herself and her stuff over into one of the few showers with a still standing curtain, her halberd's handle awkwardly scraping against the floor before she shut the curtain behind her and flipped off her flashlight. She was safe in here, she could wait out the rest of the day, and if anyone came in... well, it seemed that this area was already proven to be a fairly good defensive stronghold.

Now to just sit, relax... and listen.
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VoltTurtle
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Isabel was jarred awake after hearing the sound of the doors outside creaking open.

She had begun to doze off in the dark room, the serene quiet and overall peacefulness of the showers too difficult to resist. She had been here a while, though, so no surprise that someone finally showed up. Isabel sat up, before awkwardly unfastening the halberd and gently leaning it up next to the wall. The halberd was too large and clunky to be any use in quarters as close as these, she needed to rely entirely on her sword and the sickle.

Isabel stood up, slowly, the sickle at the ready in one hand and the sword in the other. The person that came in might be on guard, but they still had the shower doors to go through, and Isabel had the inky blackness to help hide her. She would hear it if anyone came through to where she was lurking, and it would be simple to pop out from behind her curtain and sink the sword into their gut before tearing open their neck with the sickle. Give them a good scare before their life abruptly ended.

She pressed her back up against the wall of the shower stall she was in, waiting.

Listening.
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VoltTurtle
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Isabel gripped her weapons tighter as she heard the double doors gently and slowly creep open, the smell of the corpses in the following room flooding the area.

Whoever had just walked into the room with her was either being needlessly careful, or had figured out that someone was there, hiding in the darkness. A meager amount of light from the hallway outside entered the room, lighting it up to Isabel's darkness adjusted eyes. She held by the curtain, peeking through the gap between it and the wall dividing the shower stall she was in from the others around her. She just needed to wait for whoever to get a little bit closer...

A small bit of movement came from the darkness in front of her, before she saw a face pause just where she could see, unaware but nonetheless alert.

Kimiko.

The dumb, mute, Taiwanese bitch that had stolen her best kill award. Arguably her main rival for the attention of the terrorists. The main threat to her own survival.

Trembling with rage, Isabel tossed the scarf she was wearing down into the corner, before she readied her weapons again. Kimiko probably thought that she was better than Isabel. That she was going to be the one to survive all of this and go home.

Isabel was going to make sure that this dumb bitch payed for her arrogance, her audacity.

Ripping the curtain open, Isabel lunged at Kimiko as a furious snarl escaped her lips.
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VoltTurtle
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The sword collided with nothing but cold, empty air as Isabel lunged forward.

She hadn't been fast enough.

Her right foot slammed down to the ground, stopping her momentum. Her sword retained in her hand by an awkward, loose grip. A direct result of not getting the resistance she was expecting.

A lock of hair fell from where it had been resting to right in front of Isabel's face.

Her head turned left towards the now floor bound Kimiko, and before she could muster up a second thought, she found herself taking a brutal swing with the sickle towards Kimiko's neck.
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Isabel hissed as she found herself tumbling to the ground, her leg having collapsed from underneath her.

The sword clattered to the ground several feet away, having flown out of her already loose grip. Her elbow stung from hitting the ground as hard as it did.

She scrambled to get back up on her feet, she couldn't give the other girl a single moment. This was life or death.

Now on all fours, Isabel looked up to see that Kimiko had scooted back, and had started to pull a sword out of its sheath.

This was it.

Isabel pushed off with her feet, launching herself at the other girl.
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Isabel hissed as she brought the sickle up to block the nodachi, the clang of metal on metal echoing through the room.

Both hands held onto the sickle, the inward curve having only caught the sword inches away from her face. The blade was massive, but it was blatantly being wield by someone lacking the body strength to truly use it. Isabel didn't have to fight to keep it above her.

This was her chance.

Twisting the sickle away from Kimiko, Isabel gained control of the blade and forced it out of her grip, the sword clattering to the ground noisily.

She was finished.

Isabel rolled and leaped at the other girl, forcing her to the ground again, but now with Isabel right on top of her.

The sickle was raised high into the air. This was it.

"You're done!"
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Isabel hissed from the pain not only in her face but in her back.

Kimiko had more than just the sword, she had a knife too. Isabel was lucky she yanked her head back when she did.

Kimiko was running away. She couldn't allow this. She couldn't allow that bitch to get away from her right when she had her.

Isabel reached out with the sickle, her back screaming in agony, trying to catch Kimiko's legs.

She only managed to scrape her leg before she recovered and ran out of the room.
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Isabel hissed in pain.

Her knee hurt from Kimiko kicking it. Her elbow hurt from having it hit the ground. Her back hurt from being flung into a hard surface.

And most importantly, her face hurt from Kimiko slicing into it.

She should've expected Kimiko to have another weapon on her. One weapon wasn't enough with someone who's killed three people. Especially one who's also won one of the best kill awards. She shouldn't have gloated, even for an instant. She should've just gone for Kimiko's throat immediately. As much as she wanted to correct that mistake now, Kimiko was gone, and Isabel was in too much pain to run, let alone keep fighting.

Isabel opened her bag, still quietly sitting next to the halberd in the stall nearby, an empty water bottle almost immediately popping out from how stuffed the bag was. Yanking out her medical kit and her flashlight, she got to work. A cracked mirror sitting above a sink let her make sense of the damage. The cut running across her nose and right cheek wasn't deep, fortunately, but Kimiko had nonetheless managed to hit muscle and sinew. This was going to scar. This was her individual idiot tax. Her reminder not to make the same mistake in the future.

She licked the blood running down from her face off of her lips in between grunts of pain from the alcoholic pads stinging on her cuts.

Clean.

She wrapped gauze around her head, coiled tightly enough around her skull to be secure when taped. Her nostrils were left uncovered, although that barely mattered given that her right nostril was filled with her blood.

Covered.

She sat in the shower stall for a while, letting the pain in her back, elbow, and knee slowly fade. She made sure to eat and drink from her stocks, after finally plugging up her bleeding nostril with a bit of bandage, to keep herself strong and nourished.

Eventually, Isabel wrapped the scarf around her neck again, and re-affixed all of her weapons to her person. Her knee and back still hurt with each step she took out of the showers and the corpse filled room, but it was a tolerable pain. She couldn't afford to stick around with Kimiko potentially knowing her whereabouts.



So she trudged out of the asylum once again, intently listening to the girl that had been tailing her this entire day move quietly from a distance - as if she was actually being clever.

She wasn't concerned with the girl tailing her. Quite the contrary in fact, she enjoyed the company, even if it wasn't exactly friendly company.

Being the top killer was lonely, and more importantly almost certainly made her look terrible to the viewers at home.

She tried to not concern herself with what her image would be like when she got back from the island. She was certain she could take her immunity for the crimes committed and make up for it- repair her public image that would be so thoroughly tarnished. She was doing what she needed to in order to survive, and she lost control at a few points. She could talk her way out of that. She could probably talk her way out of anything.

Isabel stopped for a brief moment, looking at the ground.

But what if she couldn't talk her way out of it?

What if she actually died out here?

It had almost been impossible for her to consider. She had easily taken care of everyone she's encountered so far, and knew what risks she could take and what situations to leave in. She thought she was smarter than everyone. Stronger than everyone. Far more capable of killing than everyone.

But she was wrong. She wasn't invincible. One mistake could get her killed. Kimiko proved that.

If she died out here, then that would mean that all she would ever be to everyone that remain behind would be a murderer. Her public image would rot along with her mangled corpse. She couldn't allow that. If she died, she needed to at least leave something behind. She couldn't just have her entire life up to this point and all her struggles with the social order and her parents be for naught.

...But she didn't know what to do. She didn't know what she could possibly do to make her seem better in the eyes of the public. She just needed something. Something that would give them a way to theorize that maybe she wasn't as bad as they would inevitably think. An image burned into their minds of who she was in the dark.

Isabel started walking again, to where she didn't know. She just kept her eyes peeled and her ears intent on her tail. She needed time to think, and a place to sleep.

She just needed to cleanse her sins for the viewing audience.

((Isabel Ramirez continued in Megalomania))
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