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Say You're One of Them; Day 5 evening/Day 6 early morning, Open
Topic Started: Feb 26 2017, 11:07 AM (1,455 Views)
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((Will McKinley continued from Lord of Lunatics))

After running away from the basement and leaving Michael to whatever fucked up things Alex would do to him, Will retraced his steps upwards and decided to keep himself to the second floor. This time he made his way over to a corridor with a few prominent rooms sticking out. He hurried into the room with his gun, still wet and working to see if he could fix it.

As he entered the room he didn't notice her at first, as he was preoccupied with his gun and trying to stop the pain in his throat after Michael's punch from earlier. He'd tried to keep it out of his mind, but as the adrenaline died down the feeling returned tenfold and he could really feel how badly it hurt. Lucky for him that Michael screwed himself over and he wouln't have to deal wtih that lunatic anymore.

Seriously though? Helicopter cock of justice? He'd heard people had lost their minds here, but it didn't really process in his head how badly til he heard that phrase while getting hit in the crotch by some flock of seagulls wannabe.

It was then he stopped and slowly turned as the frightened girl in the corner entered his sight. He'd seen her face around school, a fellow senior. Amanda Tan he believed her name was. She didn't look too good, much like Penelope from a few days ago, eyes red and puffy probably from crying not too long ago. He didn't know what she'd gone through, but maybe... Just maybe he could make up for what he's done.

"Are you alright?"
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Well, shit. He knew he'd get a reaction from her, considering he's Will McKinley, an all around miserable bastard who's killed someone. However he was expecting some self rightous toss about his murder or screaming his way, not her to start crying after his question. He stood there staring at her for a bit before looking away, trying to come up with a good way of easing the tension.

Right now the problem was he didn't know her so all she knew was what that fucker said on the announcements and his appearance, not exactly a happy looking fellow normally and right, probably covered in blood, water and whatever other messed up substances that was down there. The gun didn't help either, though that can be rectified.

He got down on one knee, gun in his right and put it down, stood up and held his hands up to emphasize the lack of gun. "Look, I know my word isn't good since I killed someone, but I'm not going to hurt you." It was easy doing so, he couldn't use it currently, and she didn't look like she was packing any firepower where she sat so there weren't going to be any trouble.

Besides, what better way to earn someone's trust than throwing away your only defense like an idiot?

"What's your name?"
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He got her name now, Amanda. Even while he was trying to come across as less threatening the tears were not stopping. Hiccups and stuttering came forth the words of why. Why? Good question. Why was he trying to help her? He didn't know her, and hell it wasn't exactly his forte in being nice to strangers, but there was something about her and this encounter, reminded him eerily of a few days ago and another girl hiding in a corner, having given up. He would have to tread carefully if this was the same case here, he didn't have backup who'd fix his fuck up this time.

"I'm tired of it all is why." Ever since the first day it's been an neverending cavalcade of fuck ups on his part. He let her slip out of his sight and signed her death warrant. Wandered around in a barely focused haze with one goal in mind, one that he'd fail at twice. Creep people out, make promises that he would inevitably break and finally, of couse, kill someone.

What a hero's journey.

His hands balled into fists as the memories of it came flooding back, he put them into his coat's pockets so she wouldn't see."I messed up the first day and Rea ended up dead for it, after that I've played right into what they wanted and done more bad than good." An understatement to say the least.

He got down on one knee again, put the two at eye level. "I want to make things right for once Amanda and if I can help you, that'd be.. good." The least he could do for what he's done so far. There's still a lot more that he could do, but this could be a good start.
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It was finally working! She was calming down somewhat and didn't look like she was close to hyperventilating anymore. As he looked at her to make sure, he realised how good this felt. He hadn't done something like this since he met with Ben and Penelope. He hadn't heard anything about them from the announcements so he hoped they were alright and that Ben used the fucking kit. Swear the dude could be a stubborn bastard sometimes. At the same time it felt weird, he'd never done anything like this before. He wasn't what you'd call a people's person, he'd probably end up arguing with them than play wannabe therapist. Funny how things work out around here.

It was when she mentioned that she'd messed up as well, he realised he didn't know why she was here. He knew something bad must have happened for her to hole up here much like Penelope did days ago, although this seemed more like guilt dragging her down into despair than depression over losing someone close. Either way, letting her vent it out could be the solution to this.

Besides, can't have been as bad as some of the crap he's done. He asked away.

"What happened?"
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He was right about venting, she was venting so fast her speech muddled together like they were the first things she thought to say and she was shaking. From what he could gather frustration and anxiety over her friends potentially dying from her leadership...

He'd never taken leadership in the past, being more of a loner meant letting others step up to the plate so he'd not have to deal with the petty bullshit leadership tends to entail. And that was just back home, god knows what stupid shit gets people around here to fight.

"So you ran away from them to be alone? Seems like that worked pretty well til I got here." He chuckled to himself about that, he'd gotten pretty good at meeting people who seemed to much rather be alone than talk to him. Now came the time for more feel good bullshit. His smile dropped when he remembered a few days ago, he did the same thing. Maybe not to the same extreme, him trying to lead people around would more likely end with him getting shot in the back than anything else. "I understand why though, not long ago I left a friend of mine behind when our goals didn't match." Regrets all around, a party of fuck ups conversing with each other. As long as some good could come from this...

Then came a certain question, one he dreaded asking since this conversation started. What would she do? She ran away from her group and she feels guilty, that's fine. But what else had she planned? From the sounds of it. Nothing.

"So, what are you going to do now?"
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At first he thought he was right, she didn't know what to do or rather, what she wanted to do. But she did, he could hear it in her voice, how she shook while the words came out. Sitting there wallowing in guilt and self pity over what happened. There was something she wanted to do, just something she might torpedo down if she stays here.

"The longer you're away from them and they don't know why, the less is your chance of seeing them and making up for it. That's what you want right?"

Finding your friends in this place was already harder than it needed to be already, add in running away and leaving them behind without a reason? Fuck that might be a recipe for something worse if she did find them. First things first though, she can't just sit here.

"...Finding them is important, if you want I could help you look?"




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As he waited for her response to his question, he felt something enter his back as an all too familiar voice spoke up a warning, for a brief moment he thought of heeding the warning, just letting him end it all and win, but the surge of pain made him instincively launch himself against the wall, grabbing the gun as he did.

As he hit the wall and turned around to finally see the form of Alex Tarquin coming into view. He looked different in a way from the day before, cleaner in a way, but at the same time somehow worse. The fuck has this psycho been doing? Whatever it is, it's not good. The fact he left his torture basement meant he is willing to branch out and probably kill more. He can't let that happen.

His eyes flicked over to Amanda for a bit, still in the corner. Probably puzzled as fuck about what was going on. Damn it, none of this has to do with her. She has to get out, she still have some friends to see. He looked back to Alex. "Tarquin, why the fuck aren't you dead yet?" He leveled the gun in his direction, kept it trained to his head.
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For an eerie moment, it felt like the first day all over again. Both of them standing across from another ready to kill with a girl in the room. Except this time she wasn't dead. Yet, anyway. Knowing Alex, he'd turn and shank her just to piss him off.and drive point that he was a "villain". He stood there in silence, hand wavering as he heard what Alex had to say.

"Hurt? Hurt?! You fucking killed her you fucking psycho!" Breathing became difficult as the words came out. He wanted to scream some more at him, punch him, shoot him, burn the fucker alive for what he's done, but he hasn't got the means anymore for that anymore. His gun was fucked, he should have focused on fixing that, instead he saw so busy playing therapist, goddamnit. And he didn't have anything else, and he could hazard a guess that Amanda didn't either.

"You keep your fucking mouth shut about Darius!" He felt himself shaking more and more as the words spewed out. "We're nothing alike, I gave him a warning to fuck off! You butchered Rea for no fucking reason!"

He looked over at her, if only briefly. He's too close to her, if she ran he could grab and run her through just as he did Rea. It would be a cold day in hell before he let this happen again. But... she could still make it out alive if Alex focused on him, and once he heard him declare they would finish this like men, he knew what needed to be done.

"Go to hell and burn Alex!"

Click.

Do your worst.
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Of course, as last time he ducked away. For all his bluster and boasting, Alex was just as afraid of dying as the rest of them. And like last time, there was only a click.

Only this time he'd stand his ground. Running away was not an option.

He saw the the blade rush towards him and tried to block with his left arm. It had taken til the last day for him to feel significant pain, courtesy of Michael's shock knife. But that was nothing compared to the sensation of cold steel cutting flesh, and yet leaving a burning sensation in it's wake. He had thought he'd go for a body blow, but of course not, he'd decided he wanted someone else to have their face as fucked up as his is. He barely got his hand up in front of his face, when before his eyes the machete went through the middle of his hand before forcing it's way up, it took everything in him not scream from the pain. Adrenaline kicking in, he quickly flipped the gun in his right hand upside down and holding it by the barrel, threw a fierce blow aimed for his non damaged eye.

As he did so, he yelled out for her.

"Amanda! Run!"
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He could see out of the corner of his eye her moving away, good girl. Now to keep this prick busy while she gets out. He made contact and hit him in the face as hard as he could, his left arm in front taking the brunt of the damage from. He could still turn this around.

It was then the loudest noise he'd ever heard in his life came.

He knew something had gone wrong when he felt something warm on his chest, the same burning sensation as on his hand. He looked down and saw the hole in shirt with blood coming out, staining it.

He'd been shot.

But Alex didn't have a gun and Will's didn't work, that meant...

"...Amanda?" Everything felt like it slowed down. Alex however did not, and suddenly it felt like he was being torn open by him. His body felt limp and his defense went to shit, he was leaning on the wall to keep himself up.

When the hell did she get a gun? Where was it? Why didn't she leave? Goddamit! Why does all the bad shit happen to him when tries to do good? After everything that's happened, he's really going to die at his hands...

"I'm sorry Rea."
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He slumped down to the floor, his back to the wall as he heard Alex make his way across the room towards Amanda. He had failed her once again. He was going to kill her, and there wasn’t a damn thing Will could do.

But then something happened, someone else had come in to play hero, bashing the shit out of Alex with what looked like a toilet seat. He tried to place who it was attacking him, but concentrating on that became difficult when all he could feel was the pain from his wounds overriding any attempts at doing so. Whoever it was, they had just saved some time for Will.

He heard the clatter of steel on floor and looked over to see his machete, the very thing he’d used to carve him up and leave him lying here. Stained with blood and ready for use. He crawled over to it slowly as he heard the sound of something hitting the wall over, and over, and over again. Punctuated by screaming and flailing. A vicious fight for their lives.

As he grabbed it, feeling the blade to the tip. He knew what needed to be done. Will forced himself up on his feet, taking unsteady steps towards the two as he heard the demented yelling from them both before plunging the machete as hard as he could into Alex's back. He put all his weight into the attack and twisted and turned the blade inside him, making him feel all the pain he felt. And compared to last time, didn’t offer any quips or last words to him, just silence as screams filled the air once more.
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He had forced the blade deep within; put everything he had in making it as painful for him as possible. Days of thinking, dreaming of this moment powering him up. Alex tried to move, but all it did was make the blade go in deeper, hurt more, a slow sickening sound booming from him as he hit the wall and the blade went fully through.

He fell backwards onto the floor. As he landed he felt a sense of relief. He finally kept one promise that he had made. He heard him make his speech and turn to him showing his face and it’s damage across the days, a twisted image of the boy from the first day, carved and full of holes. He heard the words spew out of him, trying to be a villain to the end. Will just shook his head as he died before he could finish.

"I...I did it Rea." Words that just came out and clung to the air as it became harder to breath, the world zooming around him and the feeling of bile rushing up his throat made it even worse.

Laying his head down to think, and feel out the moment made the pain come back like a train, his hand was beyond repair and bullet wound was burning like hell. He didn’t have much time left in him. He could have come back from being hit in the hand, maybe. But getting shot? Fuck no. If he did that , shit would get infected and he’d all be kinds of fucked up. Right now he needed to make sure she was alright.

“Yo-you alive? Amanda?” He coughed and sputtered the words out into the stinging air as he forced his head up and scanned the room around him for her, he couldn’t see as well as he laid there, neither her or whoever it was who had been fighting Alex, though from what he could hear over that fucking speech, they were probably crumpled to floor over with him.

Who was it? Amanda? Sure as hell didn’t sound like her and from what she looked, not really fighter. Someone else then. But who?
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He heard her voice call out, echoing in the room that now felt so empty. Sorry. Trying to help, didn't mean to. Some words he'd find himself tormenting himself with for days, Not again. He was not going to let her have to deal with that. Not because of him.

"D-don't Amanda, no-not your fault." It very much was her fault, he knew it, she knew it, everyone watching this knew it. But there was no point in hammering that point in, she already sounded like she was on the verge of giving up, just like with Penelope. He was supposed to help her, not drag her further down.

"Tak-take my gun, and find your frien-friends, before it’s too late." It was weird, he figured he'd either go out kicking and screaming, having failed to do anything or drinking himself to death because fuck sense, but he’s killed the person responsible for his hellish stay here and made sure someone other than him was alright. Guess that counts for something.

"Ju-just do me a favour. Live." Words came out weak, compounded with the coughing and the gross feeling in his throat as he knew what was going to happen. His world was spinning around at this point as his vision became darker, like someone slowly pressing down on a light switch. His body felt numb at this point and he couldn't muster the strength to move, He closed his eyes at this point and just kept quiet. Alone with his thoughts as he felt his time run out.

He knew from the start how things would go, ever since he woke up with her close by with that gun, he knew this would end terribly. Up to now he'd forced those thoughts away, the morality of his actions. He was willing to kill for her, alive or dead. No way he gets up there with he's done. Wherever he would end up, sure as hell would be better than this hellhole.

Would he see her again? Probably not. And that was fine with him, if heaven and hell was true, then he sure didn't deserve to be with her.

Despite that and everything that's happened, he felt good. A small smile forced it's way on his face as his hands trembled at his sides.

It was all finally over.

WILL MCKINLEY: DECEASED
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