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No Rest for the Obsessed; tagging Zee!
Topic Started: Jul 9 2017, 04:18 PM (283 Views)
ToxieTheToxicAvenger
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(( Jonathan Gulley continued from Getting Ahead of Yourself))

Jon wasn't sure what brought him back to the bell tower after so long. It was such a different feeling back then. There was still fear, still anxiety, but... there was a chance for things to go right. Jon wished he knew all of it would have died with Barry back then. He wished he could have just lost it then and there and joined the monsters. No regrets, no pain... He wished he could have really gone crazy instead of pretended to, maybe then he would have had an excuse for how terrible he was.

Jon looked at the mask in his hand in the eyes for a minute straight, before he put it on and went inside. Jon didn't want Barry to see him like he was. It was a shame that had to happen to him, he never deserved it. Barry only died because Alvaro was scared of him, of who he was friends with. Jon knew he hung around the wrong people, but he never thought he was hurting anyone, he didn't think it could have hit Alvaro as hard as it did.

Jon should have fell off the tower instead. Barry would have found Brendan, and Darius, and Alba... He was an actual leader, he would have done something, he would have helped everyone... Wait, who was that over there?

Jon's eye hovered over to the second crumpled body at the stairwell. He got himself closer and recognized the boy.

Aiden! He... He was the only other person who survived... That first day, when Barry had opened the gate to Jon's freedom... Aiden was there. There were... Five of them, including Jon. Him, Barry, Aiden, Tina, and Scarlett... All of them died that day except him and Aiden, and Jon never seen him again until now. Jon didn't even know who did this, or how long it had been since he died. He wasn't sure if he was unconscious or just... forgot.

Jon felt heat rise up in his face, he could feel the pressure building in his remaining eye, and a fire building in the one that didn't exist anymore. How many people actually died? How many could Jon actually remember? How many people died alone, with no stories to bring home? How many were faceless?

Jon realized that nobody would remember the majority of them, that they'd all be drowned out by the stories of the 'heroic' winner, or the disgusting horror stories of the cruelest creatures here that could barely be called human anymore... Jon wondered how the winners felt, if they even remembered the faces of the people they killed, or the people they lost. Would they try to black it out? Or could they never forget it?

Jon started climbing the stairs to the top.

Jon wished he could go back, he wished he could change things. He wished he could go back to being a decent person again, and not the cold, cold, Shape he was now.

Jon walked to the broken balcony that Barry had been shoved through, he looked down. How long of a drop was it? How long would it feel? Three seconds? Five? Ten?

Jon didn't know as he stepped through the opening, stepping over the edge...

















He wouldn't find out either, his foot resting on the support beam just below it. One hand held onto the barrier, the other his AK as he stepped his other foot on the beam, and shimmied along it until he reached the wall to his right.

There was another reason he came back here...

The bell tower was a great vantage point, the main problem being the fact the open area at top faced the wrong side, however, the openings on the other side despite not having floor boards or railings had the beams that edged along the walls. He had to pull a balancing act to get to the other side, and again to get back, but it gave him a good view of the island, probably the best. It was an area where if you saw it, you could shoot it semi-reliably.

Jon continued to shimmy along the wall until he reached the corner he was going to nest up in. He shimmied to the left of it, resting the AK along it to steady his aim. He wrapped his arm around the corner as he crouched down, making sure to watch his footing. One he got in position, he leaned the barrel of the rifle out of the window opening, his arm moved from the corner to the grip, pointing down at the path below.

Along the path, there was a little red and black bump that used to be Alessio. Jon laid his sights on it, his eye scanning the rest of the area as he waited. For most people who would come by, if they weren't scared off by the obvious warning, he would fire a warning shot to try again, hopefully they would get the message a second time, though by now the message should be pretty clear.

The reason he came back here was for a trap, and this trap wasn't for them. It was for someone special. Someone who was going to deserve everything that was about to happen to them...

There would be no warning shot for the one it was intended for.

Jon flipped the AK into Semi-Auto, his breathing underneath the mask slowed as his eye matched up with the iron sights of the rifle...
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ToxieTheToxicAvenger
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Jon Gulley finally saw the bastard, and he had a new weapon from what he had done to Brendan. Jon wasn't going to let him get the chance to use it.

He breathed in a few times to steady himself, before he trailed the barrel into his direction.

One... Two... Three...

Jon let off four shots, all of them low of where Jae was.

He saw a pop of red shoot up as Jae made a sudden movement. It got Jon's hope up as he watched, until the realization that it wasn't him he shot. It was his bait.

"Fuck!"

He flipped the assault rifle into burst fire, firing more shots at the target moving his way towards him.

Jon took a few more breaths before firing his shots down at him. He had to slow him down, he couldn't let him get in here, or else he would be exposed in a very bad place. If he could slow him long enough to get a hit in, then he could finish this!
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ToxieTheToxicAvenger
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Jae just got closer and closer, and none of Jon's shots seemed to hit. It didn't hit him until Jae was under him that he was supposed to shoot at where he was going, not where he was at.

He kept his rifle trailed under him, he had to get out of this position or else he was done for. If he even slipped an inch, he would smack into the ground like Aiden, like Barry.

He shimmied along the wall again, splinters jamming into his exposed back as he slid along it. He was cold, shirtless, in a lot of pain, and probably going to be in a lot more if he survived this. It didn't take much to get the bastard to come for him, but he came.

Jon just might be getting what he spent all these days wishing for.

He reached the barrier and climbed back up it. He turned around and aimed the rifle there at the doorway. If he knew which side Jae was hiding on, he would shoot through the wall...

Jon made a guess. He aimed towards the wall to the right of the doorway, and switched to fully auto.

Jon opened fire, spraying the wall down, unloading bullet after bullet into it, when he saw movement, he saw it too late due to his lack of depth perception.

Jae moved out, and aimed at him.

Jon tried to move the barrel towards Jae with his finger still locked around the trigger.

There was an ear shattering blast coming from right in front of him. The bell gonged vibrating Jon's brains through his skull. Jon's arm left the grip and moved towards his ear, as his other arm held the AK down still unloading. Jon screamed as he waved the spraying AK back and forth down the well. The bell screamed that his time has come, his ears screamed for the noise to stop, his elbow and shoulder screamed for support to hold the AK, and Jon himself screamed in pain.
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The bell's ringing started to cede, and Jon got up, ready to fire down at the stairwell again, this time ready to hit the target.

He got up and stumbled forwards, the ringing in his ears pounding his skull. He moved over to the edge, aiming his assault rifle down.

He'd only get a glance of the target before the bell roared again.

Jon screamed and raised the rifle, unloading it's contents down the well. The intense recoil sent the rifle upwards, and Jon inadvertently shot the bell himself multiple times.

Jon screamed again and let go of the rifle holding his hands over his ears, it fell down the stairwell, still firing until it hit the ground, fired some more, then quit when it ran out of ammo.

Jon fell to his back, rolling around on the balcony, hands gripping his ears through the mask. He rolled to his front, and curled his knees under him, holding his arms over his head, rocking back and forth. His screams of pain melting into snarls of fury. Jon smashed his head into the ground, forcing himself to get out of this position, to get up and do something!

His arm reached away from his head and into his bag, pulling out the machete he had kept for so long. He crawled behind the stairwell, and waited for his target to climb up.

He stood there waiting, the pounding ringing dulled, his skull on fire once more.
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Jon saw his target and swung, before something caught him right in the mouth. He felt the blade catch onto something as he stumbled back, the taste of iron filling his mouth as small things crawled and moved around inside of it. He stumbled back, feeling as if he was choking on something. His back hit the railing, and he swore he could almost feel it give way from behind him. He stumbled forwards, his free hand gripping his face as he spit up the excess fluid in his mouth. He could feel a numbness in his gums as things slid out from them, falling through the mask and clattering on the ground. He puked up more blood coming from his mouth, it pooled inside his mask before leaking out of the various orifices inside it.

The Shape look up towards it's victim, crimson draining from the nose, mouth, eye sockets, and neck seam. Blood dripped from the plastic parody of a face down across the shirtless emancipated figure. The cyclops eyed it's target, and realized how easy it could be to finish this. Min Jae was a mess, practically falling apart at the seams, all The Shape had to do was stay on the offense, and it could cut him down. The Shape lurched forwards.

Jon raised his machete and chopped down at Min Jae, the blade connecting to the rifle's barrel, he did this multiple times before Min Jae shoved him back. Jon shrugged the push off and shot back towards him.
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Jon was bolting forwards, machete raised. Min Jae simply pushed him back again, slamming the butt of his gun into Jon's chest, winding him. Jon stumbled back, out of breath, as Jae moved in, wailing on him with the rifle, hitting him again and again.

Another smack to the side of the head sent Jon stumbling to the right. He turned his head to look back and saw it, Min Jae was aiming his rifle at him, ready to finish this. Jon shot forward once again, smacking the barrel of the gun downwards, the discharge sent protests through Jon's ears as the bullet shot through the ground. Jon smacked the rifle again, knocking it to the ground.

Jae hobbled back, trying to gain ground, but Jon wouldn't ease up. He kept moving forwards, swinging his machete in a blind rage, most of the time missing, but he got a hit off here and there. Jon sent a kick to the leg Jae tried to favor, and got a squeal of pain from him in return.

Jon's free hand wrapped around Jae's throat as he forced him into the wall, raising the machete behind him. He pointed the sharp end towards Jae's face. In a few moments, The Shape would send the blade into his mouth and through his throat, and it would be the end of it. Jon's eye locked onto Jae's as he tried to get the final word in.

"Brendan forgives you... I don't."
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Jae laughed...

He fucking laughed... Jon was disgusted by this callous bastard... no... a blade to the face is too good for him, Jon would blind him, flay his face, cut this bastards cock off before he fini-

Jae's hand lunged to his face. Jon screamed as he felt the slimy fucker's fingers enter his skull, as the clench tightened, and grabbed, and pulled. Jon reeled back, and The Shape was no more.

Jon blinked his remaining eye in shock, stairing at the bloodstained fold of plastic in Min Jae's hand. He froze and stared at the mask. His body shaking, his remaining eye twitching, he stood, and he stared. His grip tightened on his machete.

Jon screamed and raised his machete once more as Min Jae lurched forwards, pushing him back. The railing behind Jon snapped, and for a moment, Jon felt weightless. In the split second he was still going back and not down, Jon imagined flying away, he imagined that none of this was real, that this nightmare would be over soon. Once reality hit Jon, he reached out in an attempt to grab Jae and bring him down with him.

He missed.

Down and down he fell, the world slowed down for him. All the things he experienced over these last two weeks. Friends he never knew, enemies he thought were friends, the lover who died for nothing, the killers who killed for nothing. Jon took comfort in the fact that he would see them soon. He would see him soon too...

It didn't help that he failed though... He never was able to save anyone. Barry, Darius, Michael, Brendan, Coleen... There was nothing he could do now... It was over now.

All he could do was try to enjoy the ride until he reached the destination.

Jon watched the world spin as he got closer to it. He saw the sky, then the ground, as he flipped heads up, tails up.

Sky.

Ground.

Sky.

Ground.

Sky.

Ground.

Sky







*THWACK*
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