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We Wish to Inform You That Tomorrow We Will Be Killed with Our Classmates; Day 7
Topic Started: Apr 17 2017, 11:02 AM (1,031 Views)
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((Amanda Tan continued from The World Without Us))

It was deadly silent apart from the almost rythmic sound of her sneakers on wood.

Emma and Jaime couldn't have still been in the pub, since it was a danger zone yesterday, so she'd looked about a few places nearby, but there was no sign of them.

She had hoped they'd be here.

Sure it wasn't exactly close to the pub, but she'd decided it was worth a shot anyway, though it was starting to look like she guessed wrong.

Not that she was completely alone here.

Michael was here, his ridiculous hair ensuring that there was no way it could be anybody else. Not to be rude to the dead or anything.

But she was less worried about finding him than she thought she'd be. She was getting less sensitive about dead people. Weird how easily people adapt. Three days ago she was freaking out at Tessa, yesterday she killed someone and today, she's just carrying them out of caves and walking past them as if it was one hundred percent normal.

Maybe it was just how much she had on her mind. She was trying now, or at least trying harder than she was those first few days on the island. But then why did it feel like all she had done was aimless wandering since the morning.

She'd already played out the conversation a hundred times in her mind. How she would apologise, exactly how she was going to tell them that she fucked up. The thoughts ended there, though, because she didn't know what she wanted to do next. Or if they'd even accept her apology in the first place. But above all else she needed to find them to do it.

So she shouldn't have stopped here. She should carry on.

But she stopped anyway, pausing on the edge of one of those weird concrete things that she suddenly couldn't remember the name of. She wasn't even sure why she was doing this anymore. Obligation? Because it was the right thing to do?

Or was it just because she wanted to clean up her messes. To take back her bad decisions where she could. As if she could somehow defy casuality and make sure that everything was no longer her fault because she'd owned up and apologised for it.

But wasn't it too late for that? She'd made mistakes she couldn't take back.

And somewhere she was almost certain that she would shoot someone again. She'd taken their gun after all. She'd dragged her own gun around everywhere despte how much of a stupid idea it had been. Did she-

No. Thoughts were stopping there. Go straight to jail. Do not pass go.

She swept her hair back out her eyes. Maybe she was better off moving off again.
"I have the heart of a young boy. I keep it in a jar on my desk" -- Stephen King

Those no longer with us

It's the Grand Map of Doom! v6
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((Alessio Rigano continued from Halfway Home))

A human. Amanda.

That's who Alessio saw when walking the docks. She had killed. She had a weapon. Alessio had no way to hide from her. He could be dead any moment.

It was a beautiful view. The sound of the ocean reminded him of Italy. It was a beautiful view. A week ago, he'd wish to just silently be here, sit here with Vanessa and enjoy the moment.

But now, Amanda, a killer was here. She could kill him with her gun. He could not run away.

He could try to sneak up on her. Drown her. Throw her into the ocean.

But his breathing was loud, his footsteps were loud. He just stared at her.

She could shoot him and everything would be over for him. Alessio was prepared for that option. He's sweating. He's fine with that. Being dead was better than constantly having this pain in his arm.

He was not fine with it. He did not want to die.

But being shot was quick. Painless.

Perhaps Amanda was up to talk, to not immediately shoot him upon sight. But in the case of a talk, Alessio was not the person who'd speak up first.

He just silently stared at her with a pokerface.

He had Astrid's gun in his pocket, prepared it to be pulled out.
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There was a sound from behind her, breaking the almost tranquil silence of the docks.

She turned to the person who was approaching and while it took her a moment to work out who, but when she did, she backed up a step, her back bumping into one of the metal railings behind her with an unfortunate sound.

She needed to get out of there immediately. Alessio was walking right towards her, and there was absolutely no way that he'd missed her given how open the docks were.

So, fight or flight?

Flight? That would have been the option she would taken. But no, he was in front of her, and blocking the best way out. She'd have to go right past him. The ocean? She could swim, but if he decided to shoot her while she was trying to work out where she was, she was dead too. Fighting was stupid. He'd killed how many people now? He didn't look dangerous, but certainly four people couldn't be an accident.

But if she chose neither, then what? Wait and see? Try to talk her way out? That was how they got you, wasn't it, because you had no idea how you were supposed to react to them and ended up doing something stupid, which accounted for ninety percent of the things you could do when within thirty feet of a murderer.

But maybe she could play it tough. Maybe he'd buy it and go away. Maybe the fact that the terrorist had declared her a killer could work to her advantage.

"Don't come any nearer. I have a gun."
Edited by Randomness, Apr 18 2017, 10:33 AM.
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Alessio did not come any nearer. He however showed his gun and pointed it at Amanda.

"Me too."

He stared at her with no expression. He stopped walking. He looked behind her, avoided eye contact, thought about what to say.

"Neither of us wants to get hurt. I am sure you don't want to get hurt. I am already hurt."

He looked at his bandage and then back at the ocean. Not only his arm was shot. No, his heart was broken.

"You don't want to get hurt. It...sucks."

So much for convincing her professionally. Alessio was not good at speaking threateningly. He stepped down his threatening voice after he said the word 'sucks'. He began to speak more in a silent way, a less confident way.

"I don't want to kill you. I just want some rations. You-u have some extra food for me? Or, can I have that gun of yours? You won't be killed."

Amanda was a killer, yes. That was a good thing in his mind. Yes, if she killed more people, yes, that would be good. He did not need to kill her. That would be contradictory to his plan. Killing killers would slow the game down. He wants the game to end.

He was sweating, he shook, even though he had cornered her. But he knew it was a fake gun. He knew it was a fake gun. He stood face to face in a gunpoint. He was ready to die. He was not ready to die. He wants her gun. He needs her gun.

He took a deep breath. Confidence.

"Give me that gun."
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So she was a walking treasure bag to killers now. Anyone who had heard the announcements knew that she had food, water and a weapon. She knew it must have been a trap, but she hadn't thought of this. But it didn't matter whether she picked it up or not, after all. They'd all think she'd taken it anyway, because who would be stupid enough to turn away free food?

Which meant that Alessio had all the reason in the world to shoot her. The gun was probably his only advantage. How he'd managed to kill so many people. But he was afraid, he was a scavenger, he was a coward. She just needed to hang tight and maybe he'd go away. Or maybe he'd actaully shoot her. But he was still far enough away that it was worth a shot.

"Okay, give me a good reason to give you the gun. I'm not dumb enough to throw away my only weapon just so you can shoot me with it." She waved the shotgun a little, trying to draw attention to it, and away from the other gun lying on top of her duffel bag.

"Besides, you already have your own, don't you?."
Edited by Randomness, Apr 19 2017, 08:17 AM.
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Alessio looked at her mouth and listened to her mouth. He thought about what to say.

"If you don't give me the gun, I won't leave. After you give me the gun, I will turn around, go and you won't hear of me again."

Alessio took a breath.

"I would not shoot you. You can do your thing. You can keep killing people, mess with people, talk with people. I don't want to see you dead. You are strong, you killed someone. You could even win this thing."

He dropped his sword.

"You can have this sword for your gun. Then, then you are not totally weaponless. You will be able to defend yourself from people."

Alessio tried to to open up. To tell Amanda his motivation. From killer to killer.

"Believe me or not, but giving me your gun helps you, if you want to come out of his alive. You...you don't seem to be the one to use this sh-shotgun in an offensive way. You don't seem to be a person who would use the gun to actively shoot people. You would not run into a group of people to shoot. That's what I do, though. That's what I'll do with the gun. And that helps you. I might die from stupidly attacking people, but I will kill people. You might survive, you might play less-risky, safe. And-and I help you. I kill people, you kill people and perhaps in a couple of days this game will end. You like this island? You like being here?"

He began shouting the last sentences. Then he began to talk calmly again.

"I don't. I really don't. We're stuck here for way too long. And now that Isabel and Nancy are dead, two people who did their jobs at making this game end faster, this will take longer. We will be stuck here longer. But I will do my best to let this madness end. You should be glad that I killed, and you should be glad you killed. To let the eventual winner sleep at home again soon."

Boom. Hopefully she did not think he was crazy. It was reasonable. He was reasonable. It was a horrible plan, kill people so others can get out faster, but it was also oddly selfless. Out of context this would've sounded so wrong to Al, to glorify killing. But in the context of SOTF this was the right thing to do.
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The sword dropped, the metal clanging against wood and concrete before it came to a stop. He really meant what he was saying, didn't he? Every bit of it.

He thought she was strong? For killing someone? That she could win?

Head completely up his arse. She would have laughed if he wasn't pointing a gun at her.

"You're serious. That's why?" But she wasn't going to press any further, not with his gun still pointing at her.

He still wanted to kill.

The worst part was hat his argument almost made sense. Letting him go along and kill people meant that she wouldn't have to kill anyone and yet still have a shot of making it home. She'd already killed once. It counted even if it was an accident, right? She'd meant to kill someone anyway, and she'd gotten the wrong person. If she could make it home-

But no. No. No. No. Just thinking about it this much was bad enough. She wasn't this kind of selfish person. It was sounded nice, way nice. But she was supposed to be better than that. Besides, there was no way to make sure he kept his promise. What if he shot her anyway? That would be the smart thing to do, if she was him. And Alessio just stood there, staring at her as if he was some sort of lost puppy, and why did it only make him even creepier? He wasn't bluffing when he said he wasn't going to budge if she didn't pass him the gun, was he?

God, she didn't have the patience for this now. She needed to continue searching.

"Alright. I give up. You get the gun."

She threw the shotgun as hard as she could, trying to get it as far from Alessio as she could on the narrow docks. Wouldn't it be great if it broke from the impact? But that was probably too much to ask for wasn't it?

"Keep your promise."

Her rifle was still right behind her.
Edited by Randomness, Apr 19 2017, 11:17 AM.
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He lowered his gun, put it in the pocket and walked to where Amanda threw her shotgun to pick it up. That was easy. Alessio was not sure what to think of it. Was he convincing? He was right? Or was he not? Alessio did not believe that he was convincing, but perhaps he was a better talker than he thought. Perhaps the shotgun was a fake, like the one he had in his pocket.

"I'll keep the promise."

He held the shotgun. It was a real gun. He could shoot with it. He could shoot her with it. But why would he? She was a killer. Her name was known all around the island. He did not need to kill her, there would be someone else who probably wants to kill her, someone like Michael or Maria. And they would would kill Amanda. Or Amanda would kill them. Either way, that would be better, because deaths meant progress.

Al needed to test the shotgun. Not here, but somewhere else. Holding it was weird with his broken arm, but a gun. A gun meant power. He would not have to do any stupid traps anymore. He would not need to risk his life by going close to someone. He can kill from the distance.

Alessio considered kicking the sword to Amanda, but was too afraid of accidently kicking it away, so he just left it there so she could pick it up herself.

So Alessio turned around and walked off the dock with his brand new gun.
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He bought it.

Somehow he'd bought it and was going away and oh my god he was getting away with the gun and that was the shittiest thing that she'd managed to do on the island so far. Killing one person was stupid enough, now she'd passed a gun to a person she knew would kill.

Everytime she thought she couldn't fuck up any worse she just had to prove herself wrong, didn't she? And if she heard his name on the announcements again, she would know that she was the one who did let it happen.

But there was a way out of that.

She had been thinking about it the entire time and now that the moment had come she couldn't bring herself to do it.

She was overthinking it. All she needed to do was pick it up, point it at him and pray that she hit. She'd managed it once before, why couldn't she just do it now, when it mattered.

He was getting further away.

The longer she hesitated, the further he got, and the worse it would be to try it.

Ther were go. Gun in hand.

She had one shot.

She had to do it.

She needed to do it now.

Her finger pulled the trigger.

For the second time, the trigger didn't budge.
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((Brendan Harte continued from We Are Monsters))

Brendan was near the docks again. He was out of breath from chasing after Jonathan. And not only that, his shoulder was not going so well. He had to try to ignore for now. All he wanted to do was focus on Jonathan. He was pretty sure that he had headed this way. To the place where Michael's body still was.

He shivered. He still wondered if Jonathan was still around. He took some more steps forward, panting and sweating a little. He really didn't feel that great. But he had to push himself to the limit. He glanced down at Jerry's stick in his trembling hands. Would he have to use it on someone? He hoped that he would not have to retort to doing that kind of action.

He looked ahead of him and he could see two people on the docks. One was a girl and the other was Alessio. It looked like he was holding a gun. Brendan felt that it had been a bad idea for him to head over in this direction. Being in the presence of danger seemed to be happening more often to him lately.

Where was Jonathan anyway? Did Brendan manage to get ahead of him somehow? Or had he just lost sight of him?
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(( Jonathan Gulley continued from We Are Monsters ))

This wasn't good. Was Brendan still following him?

Shit... he needed to reload, he needed to find somewhere to lay low.

It wasn't a good idea to sprint halfway across the island in a rubber mask, hoodie, and a leather jacket.

He ducked behind a tree and looked around. Brendan wasn't anywhere around right now, he had his chance. He pulled his mask up away from his mouth so he could breath fresh air again. The scent of blood, sweat, plastic, and his own breath wasn't a good combination.

Jon began loading the revolver, putting in the 4 shots he didn't manage to drop inside it.

He reached into the bag and counted how many was left. He guessed he had at least... 10 shots left.

He grabbed two more bullets and filled the revolver. That would be enough for now.

He continued to look around, Brendan should be coming any time now.

Wait... Jon looked behind him again.

Brendan had somehow overtaken him and got in front of him during the chase.

All alone.

He slowly snuck in closer, revolver in hand.

*CLAP*

Jon fired his first shot, and began moving to another location, ducking behind trees.

He peeked around the corner of it and fired two more shots.

If it weren't for the mask blocking his peripheral vision, he might've noticed Al and Amanda.
Edited by ToxieTheToxicAvenger, Apr 20 2017, 01:27 PM.
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A gunshot attracted all of his attention. He was oblivious to the fact that he as well could have gotten a bullet into his back. Even now, he did not look back at Amanda, he did not care about her, who was still weaponless in his mind. All he cared about were the people who caused the gunshot.

His eyes looked at the newcomers. One was Brendan and the other was the masked guy who shot him. And that guy did not notice him. So he raised his SPAS.

Oh, the masked man. He was not too angry at him shooting his arm. He would not kill Nixon just because he shot him, no that would be a silly reason to shoot him.

No, he shot at him, because he needed someone to shoot. It was not personal. Okay, it kinda was, a teeny bit.

So, for the first time in his life Alessio shot a gun.

And dang, shooting a shotgun was fast. It felt way too powerful. It was extremely loud. It was scary. And it took much power to control it. It did not shoot in the direction Alessio held it to, no, like a snake, the shotgun decided to shoot into a different direction than the one Jon was at.

After he felt the power of the Special Purpose Automatic Shotgun, he had regained his balance again and walked to a different spot, a safer spot if Jon decided to shoot back. But as no flag with 'BANG!' came out of the gun he knew one thing. The gun was real.
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She was fumbling with the safety when she heard it, gunshots in the distance.

No, not the distance, they were practically on the docks, and why did they have to be here now?

Jon was the shooter. To think she'd wanted to help him yesterday. What the fuck was wrong with all of them here? Everyone wanted to shoot someone.

And Alessio, he shot at them. With her gun.

Uuuuuuuuuuugh.

She was supposed to take him out before he could do that. He'd missed but it wouldn't be long before he recovered.

He would shoot them.

But if she shot Alessio, Jon still had a gun, and in the absolute best case he'd hit Brendan. And Brendan was a killer too, and fuck, her stupid understanding of morality had not prepared her for this.

Maybe she shoots Jon? But wasn't that what she was trying to prevent Alessio from doing as well?

What was she trying to do anyway? Who was she trying to help? Brendan? Jon? Herself?

She didn't even need to fire, did she. She could just let it play out. Hang back. Let things sort themselves out.

She'd messed up with Will. Messed up so bad. And here they were making her play out the same decisions again and again. And yet, she still couldn't let herself just watch as people got killed right in front of her.

She was doing something stupid again. But this time she knew what she was doing. That made it better, right?

She aimed at Jon and fired.
Edited by Randomness, Apr 21 2017, 06:04 AM.
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Gunshots.

Guns going off was happening all around him. It was absolutely chaos and he was afraid of getting hit in the crossfire as he was in the middle of it all. He couldn't stand there like a open target and get riddled with bullets. Being shot with an arrow was bad enough. And he couldn't move from his spot. Otherwise he would be a moving target for Alessio and Jonathan.

So he took the only option that he thought was the best choice for him to make.

He ducked down quickly and he flattened himself against the ground. He didn't dare move as he was not going to risk it. He need everything to calm down. This was a big mess that needed to be stopped.

But what could he do to defuse the situation?

Brendan didn't have a clue.

So he waited.
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The tree practically exploded around Jon as he took cover.

What the fuck was that?!

Jon peeked around the side and saw Alessio standing there with a new shotgun.

Fuck! Just his luck, first Alex comes back to life to kill Michael, now Al's back with a gun, hell even Jon came back! Hell of a time for death to take a fucking lunch break, shit!

Jon fired back at Al before taking cover, and reloading his gun.

He wasn't here for this shit, it was supposed to be one on one, where the fuck was Brendan?!

He looked around, then saw him lying down in the ground, hiding again.

Was this some sort of trap? Screw it.

Jon dipped back into the tree lines, ducking out of Al's point of view.

If this was a trap, and he was going to die anyways, he might as well make sure Brendan didn't get to live to do this to someone else.

He got close, running up the hill towards Brendan, he was almost point blank.

If he hadn't suffered from tunnel vision, he would have saw what was going to happen next.

His left ear started ringing, and Jon's body was forced into a nearby tree, his head smashing into the side of it.

He blinked, and he knew something was wrong the moment he lurched forward. Someting was wrong. Really wrong. Everything looked funny, something was different but he didn't know what.

Blood, lots of it, pouring down. He couldn't find his hand for a moment, he looked for the trail of blood before he found it, and tracked where it was moving.

His hand moved up, feeling the blood pour between his fingers as he raised it to the source.


His mask. The eyehole. Blood. He didn't feel it. He couldn't see from that side.

Jon stumbled back, his hand reaching for his face as his body went into subtle convulsions.

His hand felt around that side before it felt something odd... stuck to the cheek of the mask. It stuck to his glove as he pulled his hand back to look, but it slid off before he got a good chance to see what it was.

Dizzyness overtook Jon again, he tried to lean his head back, his hand tried to block the hole the blood was leaking through, but he lost his footing, and rolled down the other side of the hill.

On the way down he caught a glimpse of the one who shot him, but his eye focused on something else.

The last thing he saw before he blacked out was the face of a familiar corpse staring back at him.
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