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If It Bleeds, It Leads; (Private)
Topic Started: Jan 10 2017, 05:48 PM (1,040 Views)
Aura
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Has seen that which cannot be unseen.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Bart saw the gunshot. He heard the scream. He saw the blood. He saw Clarice and Kiziah run away. He heard Clarice yell at him to run too.

Then he saw the second shot He saw more blood. He saw Jennifer stop moving. He saw her fall on top of Nancy.

He saw everything, but all he could do was watch in stunned disbelief at what had occurred before him. Jennifer was dead. She had died right in front of him, and her killer was still right there.

As if he had a delayed reaction to Clarice's plea, he began to run. He continued to stare at Jennifer's body until he passed it, at which point he refocused his vision to the path ahead, hoping that Clarice and Kizi weren't too far away for him to find them again.

But even if he found them, that wouldn't erase the fact that he had just witnessed the life of someone he knew get brutally extinguished. He had a strong feeling that the mental image of Jennifer's final moments would remain with him for the rest of his days, however brief they may be.

((Bart Cappotelli continued elsewhere...))
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CondorTalon
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[ *  *  *  * ]
Jennifer's body fell on top of her, and she struggled to pull herself out from beneath the corpse. That was one last 'fuck you' towards her, she guessed. One last act of defiance in the face of death.

With some effort, she finally managed to free herself, pushing Jennifer's body to the side. There was more blood on her clothes again. There was no way she could look presentable, and no way she could presume innocence.

Ha. What a joke. As if everyone didn't already know. She looked around the room... Jennifer's bag should have been here somewhere... ah.

She walked over, looking through the bag. She took whatever food and water was inside, before pulling the chain out.

...

She dropped it. She didn't need this when she already had the hatchet and the screwdriver...

...and the gun, of course.

The room smelled of blood. She decided to get away from the stench.

She pushed open the door, but she didn't wander far. Instead she sat on a rock. She gingerly touched her hand to her face, wincing at the pain. She looked up at the sky, before sighing.
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shotgunkid
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don't take no guff
[ * ]
((Leslie Price continued from ONE MILLION TROOPS.))

Panic first. She hadn't known if it had been hours or days. The sun was in the wrong place when she had woken up, and everything felt lilted now as though it were a dream again. Somewhere along the line, she'd chided her past self for not reading up on the symptoms of concussions and serious head injuries, but it had been too late for such regrets the moment she entered the school bus.

Those she was pursuing were long gone, thankfully. A while after waking up, her mind was steeling itself for the routine exercises she had become so familiar with, only to be interrupted by a familiar, loud whine and Danya's voice - the announcement!
The energy faded faster this time. It almost felt as though she was getting used to island life, which was. Okay, maybe. New names, new humor, new advice. Crematorium a dangerzone. Best kill award, seeya tomorrow kids, signing off! Quite more verbose than that, but somehow Danya's voice carried a strangely dull air today. Perhaps bored or tired? Definitely fatigued, but she couldn't place her fingers on precisely how.

It was jarring to feel that, really. He had seemed so perfectly satisfied and self-confident executing Graham and in the previous announcements. Why would boredom set in now, especially when he certainly had a instant-replay view, from many angles, of each and every death? He seemed to relish in the little verbal jabs and twists he dealt out.

More to the point, she'd let go again. Her emotions had controlled her again! She hadn't been defending herself as she had envisioned. No, now she was running around trying to chase dangerous individuals unarmed based on her changing whims. That was just as bad. Worse. Combat couldn't only be something she felt was retaliatory, it absolutely, utterly, had to be something even the most dogged prosecutor would accept as legitimate self-defense. It felt like the only way to be morally secure. At least she hadn't managed to act on the opportunity to kill for real. If she had killed Green Hair Boy or the tiny Asian chick, her mind boggled at the notion of how she'd manage to forgive herself if Danya had come up today, read off names, and hers came up along with her victim's and it turned out they'd done nothing wrong and she was a cold-blooded murderer and-

CRACK CRACK

-all that was pushed out of her mind in an instant. Gunshots dive for the ground where were they. Dead ahead of the building's front! Where was the front where was the front, fumble for the map and tear it in several places trying to unfold it fast. The radio tower was dead ahead. Someone with a gun and willing to use it immediately represented a clear and present threat. Okay, maybe it would take an NRA prosecutor to exonerate her from this. Didn't matter. She didn't care.

Bolt out the front doors, run toward the warehouse gate and take a left what does she see first it's Nancy Kyle the weeb girl she didn't remember much about but had been on the list for two days now and covered in blood she'd almost certainly just killed someone no one would blame Leslie Price for getting rid of her now and she was

staring at the sky she was distracted!! go go go

Without much more thought than that, Leslie simply flung herself at Nancy in a crude attempt to tackle her. She'd just beat her to death or snatch the gun and shoot her with it, the specifics weren't very important.
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CondorTalon
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[ *  *  *  * ]
The footsteps again?!

She turned around. No, now she was at an awkward angle and-

Something collided with her and sent her sprawling. The grip on the gun still there... still there, up until the point they impacted the ground, at which point it clattered away, just out of reach of her hand from this position.

"Can you not?!" Nancy cried, swinging a fist wildly. It was only now that she saw her attacker's face and realized that it wasn't Clarice, or Kiziah, or Bart, or even anyone she'd run into in the previous days.

She struggled. She struggled to get out from under Leslie, and she struggled to get her fingers to reach her gun.

"Who the fuck are you?!"
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shotgunkid
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don't take no guff
[ * ]
Leslie's body simply slammed on top of Nancy's, the blow against bare rock softened by the low energy and all the flesh in between. A dull and faint spak.

No pain followed it, but she had ended up in an awkward prone stance with no leverage. She positioned herself for another blow, but her legs caught between Nancy's and the blow went wide, striking the ground uselessly. The gun the gun the gun, reach for it-

"Who the fuck are you?!"

- her gaze fell, and in an instant she saw her own right hand hovering over the grass, realizing it was just a few vital inches further away from the pistol than Nancy's. Now, a little part of her semiconscious mind was processing the statement and trying to put together a decently witty retort, even though it drew away useful brainpower from-

"Your worst fuckin' nightmare, bitch!" she spat angrily.
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CondorTalon
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[ *  *  *  * ]
"Fuck off with your shit!" Nancy said, her hand still reaching for the gun, she noticed that Leslie's hand was also doing so. If Leslie got it before she did, it was all over. She continued to glare at the girl on top of her, while her other hand kept flailing wildly.

She needed the gun, otherwise...

Wait a minute.

With a grunt of effort, Nancy went to grab Leslie's wrist, the one that was reaching for the gun, and with the other hand she gripped the handle of the screwdriver held within her skirt. She pulled it out in an awkward motion and stabbed it at Leslie's arm.
Let's show that private threads still aren't necessary! I pledge not to start any private threads on the island in V6. If I started a thread in-game, you are welcome to join it.

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shotgunkid
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don't take no guff
[ * ]
If the screwdriver made any sound going in, Leslie didn't hear it. She was instantly hit by bursts of shock and adrenaline as a horrific pain tore into her arm and wouldn't stop. She might've screamed, too, couldn't be sure-- the gun!

Attempting to awkwardly pivot herself from on top of Nancy, she could faintly feel the blood gushing out of the wound. Didn't seem all that deep, but she'd lost any sense of touch, or control, in her left forearm, so might have there been nerve damage? The regret of an unprepared man flashed across her conscience.

No no no no, Nancy was faster, she realized awfully, her right was lethargic somehow and couldn't get to the pistol's grip in time-
Edited by shotgunkid, Jan 22 2017, 04:33 PM.
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CondorTalon
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[ *  *  *  * ]
The screwdriver sank into Leslie's arm, and Nancy pulled it out as Leslie turned. There had to be... had to be more room now, but Leslie was still going for the gun! Nancy shifted. Just enough... just enough for her fingers to land on the grip. She roughly pulled the pistol to her side, then into her hand.

Her other hand let go of the screwdriver as she hurriedly reoriented the gun, using both of her hands to do so. The end of the barrel was pointed at Leslie.

Nancy's finger curled around the trigger.
Let's show that private threads still aren't necessary! I pledge not to start any private threads on the island in V6. If I started a thread in-game, you are welcome to join it.

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shotgunkid
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don't take no guff
[ * ]
The images played in Leslie's eyes slowly, as though filmed by a high-speed camera. Nancy's hand was faster on the draw, and she grabbed the gun. There was no chance of winning unarmed.

Too late.

Nancy raised the gun.
Why had she done this? Why had she chased after that damn boy? Why had she gotten so pissy? Why?

Too late.

Her arm then moved, supported by the other, and began to pivot toward Leslie's body.
Why was she in this damn mess in the first place? Why did she not skip that damn trip? WHY?

Too late.

The gun was pointed square at her face. It was all over, all over, everything was over and she hadn't a damn thing to show for it!

Horrific pangs of regret, each and every single one reverberating through her mind as she feared, raged, accepted her existence coming to a close.

They didn't last long, of course. In the space of several dozen milliseconds, with her eyes only half-shut-

G064: LESLIE PRICE
DECEASED


-the shot shattered her jaw and eviscerated her temporal and occipital lobes.
Edited by shotgunkid, Jan 22 2017, 04:51 PM.
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CondorTalon
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[ *  *  *  * ]
At least this time Nancy had the foresight to push Leslie backward before she fell on top of her.

It made it much easier to crawl away from the corpse. Nancy looked down at the body for a few seconds, before she suddenly grimaced and kicked at the corpse.

Nancy couldn't believe she'd been so stupid as to get caught unaware by this girl. There was a dull ache in her head, and she clutched at it. A long, low growl escaped her lips, before she roughly pulled Leslie's bag off of her.

She stared at the corpse for a few seconds, before her eyes went to the radio tower.

She turned around.

Her name was going to be on the announcements. Twice. She was satisfied for today... so the rest of the day would be time to recuperate. As best as possible, anyway.

((Nancy Kyle continued in 不安心.))
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