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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 (1,445 Views)
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((Jonathan Gulley continued from Either Thou or I, or Both, Must Go With Him ))

Wordlessly he swung.

Again and again. The only sounds he made were the whacks of the toilet seat and the muffled breathing under his mask. Jon wouldn't relent.

He didn't care if Alex begged, screamed, or cried. He had to kill him.

Me or him. Him or me. One of us has to die today.

He swung again and Alex ducked, the seat bouncing off the wall. He lurched forwards, pushing against Jon's midsection and forcing him into the wall. Jon raised the toilet seat and swung down on Alex's head and neck until he relented.

Alex lurched back, and swung his machete down at Jon. He raised the toilet seat, the middle of it catching the blade, stopping it from splitting his skull open. He pushed back and swung, Alex swung too.

The first slash moved across his midsection, and if it weren't for Michael's jacket, Jon's insides would be outside. Jon swung upward in retaliation, and felt a sharp pain move up his side to his arm as Alex swung again, harder this time, cutting through Mike's jacket, Brendan's hoodie, and Jon's skin.

Jon stumbled to the left, and felt another slash go down his back. Muffled screaming came from the Nixon mask as he turned around swinging towards Alex blindly.

He didn't care if Alex slashed, tore, and carved him up. He had to kill him.

Me or him. Him or me. One of us has to die today.

He rushed towards Alex, swinging the toilet seat blindly. Alex swung back, slower, but better aimed. Jonathan had no skill in fighting whatsoever, his only advantage was hitting him from behind.

Alex had experience, reach, strength, and weapons. In any other scenario Jonathan wouldn't stand a chance.

He still didn't stand a chance.

Slash after slash, Jon felt the stings, not as bad as the first, but much worse than any scrape he's had on a skateboard. He got lucky once. Alex swung horizontally, Jon swung vertically.

The machete hit the floor, and Jon raised the toilet seat again. He aimed for the mouth.

Alex's head twisted to the side, red coming from the mouth. A sound not unlike skittles spilling from the bag onto the tiles came next.

Words finally came from the Nixon mask in barely coherent screams.

"Say his fucking name! You hunted him! You tortured him! You murdered him!"

He swung again. Alex could only block with his arms now, with the occasional punch towards his direction. Jon kept moving forward, Alex kept moving back. He swung again.

"Say his name! I want to hear you say it!"


"You hunted him!"


"You tortured him!"


"You murdered him!"

Alex's back hit the wall.

Jon moved up raising the seat.

"I want to hear you-"

He swung.

"Say! His! Name!"

Alex caught the seat. The world stopped.

Alex. Caught. The. Seat.

Jon's eyes widened, he gasped under the mask.

Me or him. Him or me. One of us has to die today...
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Jon's breathing increased rapidly. Alex started talking, even with most of his front teeth gone he was still talking, blaming, pretending it was his fault Michael was dead.

T-that he had the audacity to pretend he was the one responsible, that he hunted him and killed him after all he did and it was his fault. Jonathan felt himself growl, he had never thought he could do that, let alone the fact it wasn't intentional, it just happened.

He lurched back, ready to knock the rest of Alex's teeth out.

Me or him. Him or me. One of us has to die today...

Alex used his height to his advantage, pulling the seat down, away from him. The force knocked Jon back, he tried to catch his footing. He almost caught his footing, but Alex took his breath the very next moment.

He felt the shelf jab into his back, an uncomfortable pop followed it. He didn't get a chance to groan in protest before his feet were off the ground again.

This time he landed face first into the opposite shelf. He tried to grab onto the grooves in the shelf to hold him down, but the squeaky protests of leather and something cracking was all that he heard as he was dragged back again, his fingertips on fire.

His back smashed into the opposite shelf, and he had enough time to swing at Alex. He punched and kicked. It didn't work, and he felt the gravity betray him as the world turned upside down. He reached out and grabbed onto Alex's hair, pulling it as he crashed into the ground below.

He could remember crashing his skateboard and getting up off the ground for one more trick. He looked at the lock of blonde hair in his hand and made a stupid laugh for the situation. As he tried to get up he remembered Courage The Cowardly Dog, and the way he laughed when he got hurt. It was nostalgic, peaceful even if it was unusual to think of now. Memories distracted him from the pain.

They also distracted him from Alex. It wasn't but a second later that reality came back, and a hand smacked across one side of his head, the other side hitting the wall. He couldn't hear momentarily, his ears were ringing.

The wall came back again. And again, and again, and again, and again, again, again, and again.

He grabbed Alex's arm, his face, he clawed, he punched, he thrashed, he screamed. None of it worked.

He was slammed again and again, his body not wanting to work anymore.

This was it.

Me or him. Him or me. I had to die today...

The mask stuck to his face like glue, he couldn't see, his eyes were stinging when blood poured into them. His skull throbbed, and Alex just kept smashing him.

The sticky cocoon left his face and the beatings stopped. Alex stared at him, Jon knew Alex wanted to hear him brag one last time before it was over. Jon didn't hear what he had to say, he screamed over him.

"S...s-shut up and do it already!"

He hit the wall again and the world turned into bright splashes of color.
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It was like watching a movie almost.

Jon could see it all happen in... third person, it felt like. He couldn't feel it, but he could see every hit. He could hear every smack against the ground, every drop of blood flying this way and that.

He reached up feebly, trying to grab at Alex's face, trying to get him to stop. Alex bit down on his hand, yanking back and forth like a rabid dog. His head reeled back and the glove was torn from Jon's hand, which fell limply by him. He took a good long look, and realized what that searing pain was when Alex dragged him back and forth. He tore his own nails out trying to grab the shelf, they stood out in odd angles, red leaking from his finger tip- another smash interrupted his train of thought.

He was forced to look at Alex one last time. He saw his hands open up, his thumbs reel back. He knew what Alex was going to do with those thumbs. That freak made sure his fucked up face would be the last thing he saw, and Jon knew it. He closed his eyes, not like it would help.

Screaming filled the room.

This was it, this was what dying felt like.

It only took seconds later to realize that it wasn't Jon screaming.

Alex had a machete rammed just under his ribs and he was the one screaming, grasping at the blade. The blade twisted and Alex screamed even louder.

This was his chance.

Me or him. Him or me. Alex HAS TO die today...

He brought his hand toward's Alex's face, towards the burnt scar tissue that covered half of it. He scraped down, his fingers catching on something soft and sticky. His head reeled back again. Itdidn't catch.

It did cause him to lean back however, giving him just enough room to crawl out from under him.

"Fuck you, you toothless cyclops creep!"

Alex stood up, machete still hanging through him. He brought his leg up and kicked Alex where he could in the situation, between his legs. With an audible pop, Alex leaned over, his knees buckling. A head crushed for another head crushed you bastard. He looked behind him, and saw the toilet seat. He rolled to his front and started crawling towards it.

So close, but so far. He forced himself to his feet, the world spinning, his peripheral vision turning into black and pink stars as he felt nausea come over him. It felt like he was staring down a tube, he couldn't see anything around him, just things in front of him.

He fell to the ground again and continued crawling. He was just a little over a foot away now.

This was it, it was almost over now.
Edited by ToxieTheToxicAvenger, Mar 17 2017, 07:37 AM.
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So close... Almost there.

Laughing. Laughing behind you. Was he getting back up? No... No! Not now, not when you was this close! Get up.

Get up!

He crawled onward, so close, yet so far. "I was wrong!" Shit... What? "Avengers...in earnest!"

What in the fuck was he talking about? Jon turned around to look. He wasn't getting up.

"Even...in death, you..."

"No more...masks..."

"No...see? This is...who we always..."

"That's...the game. Take off...the mask, and..."

Jonathan grabbed the seat, and wiped the blood from his eyes. Alex wasn't going anywhere. He had to get in the last word. The last laugh. That's all it was.

"And see...who's strong, and who's..."


He pulled himself up, using the shelf as leverage as he dragged himself towards Alex. Each step hurt. Each breath hurt. Each thought hurt.

"Survival...of the..."

Jon fell to the floor, forcing himself to crawl the rest of the way. He grabbed onto the edge of the shelf again, standing himself up. Don't you fucking dare die just yet, you bastard. Don't you...

Alex was dead.

Will was close to dying.

You were close to dying...

Jon dropped the seat and collapsed onto the ground, staring at the ceiling.

The world kept spinning, bright shapes were appearing in and out of his vision. It was...funny really, it was like going to the dentist.

It was all so... pointless, Michael was right about it. None of it mattered, none of them would make it home anyways. Pointless, so fucking pointless.

He watched the room melt away around him.

All of his friends were dead, and all the people who killed his friends were dead, or dying right here with him, right here in this room. Funny how that worked out, huh? He felt himself crack a smile at that thought, that these people wouldn't get away with what they did, and Jon helped it happen.

He walked in ready to die anyways. What did he have to live for anyways? Did it even matter if you were successful or not? Make sure Alex died for what he did to Michael, what he did to you? Darius' voice spoke up inside Jon's head, yelling "AW YEAH THERE WE GO, APC DESTROYED MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!"

Yeah, mission accomplished.

It was fucked up, but he felt himself smile like a fool.
Edited by ToxieTheToxicAvenger, Mar 17 2017, 08:26 PM.
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The world melted around him, warping, changing. Bright stars were filling his vision, as little pinpricks started moving their way up his skin.

He blinked once.

He blinked twice.

On the third time he woke up.

He felt the familiar wood of the Desert Plains Skate Park half pipe on his back. He looked up and saw stars everywhere, it was a pretty night. Someone must've had a radio nearby, he was hearing Handlebars by Flobots playing from somewhere.

He had no idea how he got here.

"Hey. You okay?"

Jon knew exactly who's voice he heard.

(( Michael Crowe continued from Real Human Being ))

"You look like you had some sort of fucked up nightmare man, everything good?"

A nightmare? T-that's all this was? Just some fucked up nightmare...

"Y-yeah, it... it wasn't good."

He moved in close and hugged him. He leaned back to look him in the eyes.

The scar. That axe-forced grin. All the blood...

It was still there. The memories of what happened were flooding back to him.

"Jon, I got some bad news for you."

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"So this is it then, isn't it?"

He looked the spectre in the eyes.

"It's over, isn't it? I'm finished, otherwise I wouldn't be seeing you right now..."

Michael looked towards the ground, as if thinking of something to say, his lip quivered.

"In a way yeah... It don't gotta be though, you coul-"

"Don't. I don't want to. I won't go back, there's nothing there for me."

"Jon that ain't up to me, I c- I can't ju-"

"Well, you had a choice to leave me when Alex showed up! Now, I choose to go too! I can't go back! Y-you can't leave me again!"

He grabbed Michael's collar, before he stepped back pushing Jon off of him.

"Goddamnit I never fuckin' left you! I'm here now ain't I?"

Jonathan rebutted.

"How do I even know you're real, huh? What if you're just some dream, what if it's not really you? What if you're gone, nothing afterwords and I never get to see you again?! You threw away your life to protect me?! Well good job, now I'm here too!"

"It wasn't my fuckin' choice! I never had a choice! There was no way I was getting out of it without one of us getting killed, Jon! I tried, I tried my fuckin' best, and it didn't matter!"

"And you think I didn't try?! What was I supposed to do, just find a corner and wait it all out!? Help isn't coming... It never was, people don't care about us, the people here don't even care about themselves! We never had a chance! I didn't have a choice either!"

A bright light clicked on behind Michael, turning him into just another silhouette.

"I came to tell you that you have a choice now. I know I told you to give up... but, you could do more Jon, you're stronger than you think you are."

He turned to walk into the light. Jon called out, running to him.

"W-wait! Don't leave me!"

He caught up, grabbing Michael by the hand.

"The other choice! What was it?"

Michael tilted his head towards the bright spot in the darkness.

"I won't blame you if you choose the other one. I'd understand why... It's my fuckup that we're here anyways."

"Could I go with you? I... I don't want to be alone anymore."

Michael held Jon's hands and looked into his eyes.

"Are you sure you want this?"

"I-I'm sure... There's nothing left for me here."

The two held each other close as they walked towards the opening.

"I'm... I'm sorry I got you into this. I never meant to hurt you."

Jon could see the tears falling from Michael's eyes.

"It wasn-... You didn't mean it. I-it wasn't you fault, it's okay. Only one of us could make it home anyways. I'd rather be here than there anyways. This was the best way it could've turned out for us. L-let's just go."

The two took the time to make one last hug before they moved on.

Jon wasn't afraid anymore. He didn't regret his choice, and he knew he wouldn't later on.

It was over, it was all finally over.

B040- Jonathan Gulley- Eliminated

"Are you okay?"

Jon's eyes opened, he gasped, then took a deep breath. He looked around, that familiar scent of rust filled his nostrils.

He was back in the store room, and Amanda was staring right at him.

It was right there... He was so close... It was over- he was done!

Alex got to die, Will got to die! Why was he still here?! Why was he still alive?!

It wasn't fair! T-this wasn't fair!


He finally had some closure, some peace... and it was all taken away from him yet again.

"Why'd... Why didn't you let me die?"
Edited by ToxieTheToxicAvenger, Mar 25 2017, 11:32 PM.
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Jon tried to sit up, but he was nearly overcome with nausea as he tried. If he had actually eaten anything in the last few days, he probably would have puked already. He clutched his throbbing skull, blood seeping through his fingertips as he tried to remember what it felt like to be alive.


Was this what being alive felt like? Wasn't this. That vision he saw. He saw the other side and that felt more like being alive than now. Being alive was... last night, before Alex. It was the one time he was alive since he'd been on his island.

Now... Now he wasn't. But he wasn't dead either, that would've worked out too well. It was an inbetween. Some sort of fucked up purgatory.

He looked towards Amanda, she was... pretty pissed about him-

Aw shit.


Everyone's pretty much bailed on him except for Michael. Michael was dead, now. Nobody's actually stayed with him or really cared about him, and the first person who did, he blamed them for his problems. Amanda was one of the only people who actually showed some form of care for him. Not the 'pretend I'm sorry' care that Brendan did.

"I- I'm sorry... I thought..."

He really didn't know what he was thinking... There were still good people here. It wasn't over yet. Not even halfway over really.

"Everyone I cared about is dead... Now the people who killed them are too... I just- I just don't know what's left I can do."

He tried to stand up, his peripheral vision breaking into pink and black stars, his balance distorted by the forced 'tunnel vision' he was experiencing.

"I just thought I deserved some rest too... Everyone else I knew got it."
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"N-no, it's fine. I'll go myself." Jon slowly walked towards the two bodies that lay in front of him, his eyes trailed on them.

"Everything is... kind of messed up, and I just need time to think. I did just fine bandaging one of my friends when he got hurt, I-I think I'll do alright." You didn't mention someone else came and killed him later that night.

"I just need a night to think, maybe tomorrow I'll get a good idea of what I'll do."

He looked Will first, and the gun near his body. He'd need that if he even wanted to see tomorrow.

He knelt down and grabbed it, rifing through Will's bag like there wasn't someone behind him watching. "Had it coming" he muttered under his breath, but he wasn't sure if it was Will or Darius at that point. Maybe Darius tried to play, and his dumb ass got himself killed. Maybe Will just thought he could get away with it, because nobody would miss him, obviously. Jon didn't know, and the only people who did weren't here. Maybe they both did, or neither of them did. Jon didn't know.

Jon pocketed the ammo too as he turned towards the real reason he was here.

He KNEW Alex deserved it. He hobbled over to the body, and almost went for the axe. He realized he never wanted to see it again, considering what it's story was. What it was used for. To Jon, the damn thing was cursed. He went for the machete still lodged in Alex, placing his foot on the corpse for leverage, he tugged it out.

"You're the real coward... I hope it all still hurts wherever you go." He spat on him.

He couldn't stay here anymore. Any longer and what little of his mind he had would be gone. He needed to breath.

He stormed over to the seat and mask he dropped, and walked out.

(( Jonathan Gulley Continued Elsewhere))
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