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A History of Bad Decisions
Topic Started: Aug 25 2017, 12:06 PM (417 Views)
Pippin
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party wurmple never sleeps. only dances.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Bryony Adams continued from Rain, Rain, Come Again))

Bryony’s footsteps echoed down the corridor, muffled thunder to match the storm raging outside the asylum and inside her head. Her lungs were ablaze, her breath ragged and harsh, legs feeling like they would collapse any second now. Still, somehow, she managed to keep running. It was the one solid thought in her head. Just keep running. Just get as far away from the shooter as possible. She’d escaped with just an injury back at the garden. She might not be so lucky again.

Doorways and peeling wallpaper blurred past her, and slowly, as her body sped along the hallways, almost tripping on broken floorboards and faded carpet, the pounding and ringing in her head began to fade away. What were they going to do now? Hide out in another room and then go running the second the shooter, or some other player, stumbled upon them again? All that would happen then would be that they’d eventually run out of energy, run out of steam, and run into the exact same dead end as if they’d just stood with their backs to the wall and waited to be shot. They still needed a weapon, and they weren’t likely to find one just lying about the place. So, she finally needed to admit it to herself plain as day; they needed to take one from somebody. By force, without a doubt.

Bryony glanced behind her to make certain that Alice and Candice were keeping pace with her. She skidded to an abrupt halt, almost stumbling into the wall in front of her.

Alice wasn’t there. Neither was Candice.

In an instant, the pain and exertion and realisation of all that had just happened in the art therapy room crashed down on to her, like the building itself was collapsing on top of her. She bent over, resting her hands on her knees, taking deep breaths, before even that became too much for her to manage, and she collapsed against the wall.

Whenever they’d moved on from place to place, whenever one of them had gone on slightly ahead of the others, they’d always managed to stick together. Bryony had assumed the same would have happened after her flight from the art department. But there was nobody standing in the corridor next to her, and she couldn’t hear any hurried footsteps over her shaky breaths and rapid heartbeat. They should have been able to follow her; she wasn’t fast, not in the slightest, and she hadn’t been subtle about her exit from the room. Had they… had they…

Bryony wasn’t stupid. She knew, in the section of her mind that haunted her, that Alice and Sandra would have had to have died eventually. She had desperately wanted to stay with them both for as long as she possibly could, but the longer they did that, the more heart-breaking it would have been in the end. They all cared dearly about each other, wanted to protect and look after each other, but if their thoughts were anything similar to hers, then they wanted to live even more. When push came to shove, if they were the last three surviving, what on earth would they have done? How could she ever work herself up to killing her two best friends?

It was for the best that Sandra had died the way she did. Before the end. Not even by a killer’s hand. And certainly not betrayed by her own friends. Yeah. This was the best way this could have ended.

It took a long while for Bryony to get up from the crumpled heap slumped against the wall, for the silent tears to stop flowing. The weapon she had grabbed, that she now saw was a broken easel leg, top splintered and nails sticking out from one edge, served as a crutch once again, pushing her to her feet. She was beyond exhausted, now. She just wanted to fall asleep and wait for tomorrow, what would almost certainly be her final day on this island, no matter what happened. She needed something more secure than the corridor, though.

Bryony walked over to the nearest door. She moved her hand towards the handle. Then she stopped, and stared at it. A minute passed. Her hand went back into her pocket, and pulled out the final playing card. If you could even call it that; it was the “How to Play Blackjack” card. She almost smiled.

Nobody was dead until the announcements said so. If Alice was… If Alice found her way to this part of the asylum, Bryony desperately wanted to see her one last time. She still had so, so much she wanted to tell her, before the very end.

Bryony slotted the card into a hairline crack in the door. Then, easel leg gripped tightly in her left hand, she pushed the door open.
V7 BAYBEE
Lyra Doyle-Let's live tonight like fireflies, and one by one light up the sky
Current Thread: The Glorious Evolution - "Sorry, that was a little weird, wasn’t it?"
Katie Agustien-If you wanna start a fight, you better throw the first punch, make it a good one
Current Thread: V for Vend-etta - "Fuck off. Are you kidding me?"
FOLDER OF DESTINY

"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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Pippin
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party wurmple never sleeps. only dances.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Bryony saw the world through an artist’s eyes, even out here on the island. Whenever she visited somewhere new, or stepped into a different room, or even returned to somewhere once familiar after time and the actions of humans had altered it, she absorbed everything she could see in front of her. She took in all of the colours and shades and hues, the locations of objects, the movement of people and things in the wind, the way the light dappled and dispersed and disappeared. She would absorb them all, and paint a picture on a canvas in her mind.

She had just enough time upon entering the staff lounge to take in the empty chess board, the silent body underneath the plaque, and the staccato holes peppering the right wall, before Blair rising from her chair demanded her full attention. There was something clenched in her hands, something that looked almost like a metal hockey stick, something that she was now swinging in an arc in front of her before Bryony could even raise her own weapon or shout a greeting or take a step.

There was a dull, wet noise, as the saw blade buried itself in Bryony’s stomach. Everything froze. Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes widened. She staggered back, two steps, a drop of crimson splashing to the floor punctuating where she’d been standing. Her hand instinctively moved to the blade, as if it were a phantom that would disappear as soon as she tried to touch it.

There was pain, constant, burrowing through her skin like ants, slicing through her, never ceasing.

Her legs wobbled. Somehow, she stayed upright. Somehow, she gripped the easel leg tightly in both hands. Her mind, just like back in the art room, was focused on one thing. The girl standing in front of her. The girl who had killed already. The girl who had attacked her, unprovoked. The girl who was planning to kill again.

She knew that they were all stuck in this same situation, that they were all innocent in the shadow of the terrorists’ actions, but she wasn’t going to just sit back and let herself be attacked because they were all good people doing bad things. Her friends had all been killed. Alice had stopped the girl in the art room from shooting her at what was almost certainly the cost of her own life. She couldn’t just lie down and die after all of that. She had to live. She had to be the last one standing.

And if she couldn’t do that, then she wasn’t going to let someone like Blair walk out of here alive.

As fast as she could with the sawblade digging into her guts, Bryony crossed the room towards Blair, trying to close the gap before she could hit her again, winding up and swinging her bat at the girl’s midriff.
V7 BAYBEE
Lyra Doyle-Let's live tonight like fireflies, and one by one light up the sky
Current Thread: The Glorious Evolution - "Sorry, that was a little weird, wasn’t it?"
Katie Agustien-If you wanna start a fight, you better throw the first punch, make it a good one
Current Thread: V for Vend-etta - "Fuck off. Are you kidding me?"
FOLDER OF DESTINY

"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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Pippin
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party wurmple never sleeps. only dances.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Blair ducked down at the last second, Bryony’s wild swing cracking into her forehead instead of her stomach. Good. She should have aimed there first anyway. The girl was disoriented, knocked prone, the sawblade slinger forgotten and whatever other weapon she’d been trying to collect sent spinning out of sight.

The thought of running to grab it briefly crossed Bryony’s mind, but was gone in a millisecond; she couldn’t afford to turn her back on Blair even for a moment. This wasn’t an honourable duel between two opponents on equal footing, like in one of her video games. This was a scared girl, desperately fighting for her life against someone just as scared but out for her blood.

Thoughts of what she was doing and how much she’d hate to see herself doing it threatened to bubble to the surface and paralyze her, but they were pushed back down by her thudding heartbeat and overwhelming adrenaline, as Bryony took another step forwards, foot pressing against Blair, trying to keep her where she was. She took in one, deep breath, then raised the easel leg up over her head like an executioner’s axe.

Blair’s foot found her ankle as she swung, and the sudden stinging pain combined with her own movement knocked her off balance, and Bryony clattered to her knees, practically on top of Blair now, and as panic instantly flooded her mind, her left hand scrabbled along the floor, trying to find purchase to push herself back up.

It brushed against Blair’s shirt and, instinctively, Bryony grabbed hold of the fabric. She let out a war cry, born of pain and fear and anguished determination, raised the easel leg again with nails pointing down, and slammed it into Blair’s chest.
V7 BAYBEE
Lyra Doyle-Let's live tonight like fireflies, and one by one light up the sky
Current Thread: The Glorious Evolution - "Sorry, that was a little weird, wasn’t it?"
Katie Agustien-If you wanna start a fight, you better throw the first punch, make it a good one
Current Thread: V for Vend-etta - "Fuck off. Are you kidding me?"
FOLDER OF DESTINY

"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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Pippin
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party wurmple never sleeps. only dances.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Bryony did her best to ignore the sound the easel leg made when it connected with Blair, a horrendous echo of the sawblade’s impact into her own stomach. She tried desperately to ignore Blair’s awful scream when the nail pierced her chest. She forced herself to ignore the dark crimson stain beginning to spread across Blair’s shirt. She had to ignore it. She couldn’t afford to focus on anything else but beating Blair, on the act of surviving. On killing the girl in front of her. There would be time for hatred and self-loathing during the aftermath. If she wanted to actually reach that point, she couldn’t let up. Blair wouldn’t show mercy. So, neither could she.

She tightened her grip around the easel leg, moving her left hand to grab hold of it as well, head and heart pounding terrifyingly loud. Just one more swing. Just one more…

She hesitated for just a moment.

In that brief split-second, Blair’s wildly flailing leg found it’s mark. It cannoned into Bryony’s stomach, striking the sawblade, digging it further in, a strangled gasp of pain and terror leaving her mouth, as fire coursed through her body and fear surged through her mind. She had to finish this, she wasn’t winning, she was going to die, she had to, she had to, she had to…

Grab the board. Raise it high. Nails down. Overhead swing. Bryony hit Blair one final time. Then she scrambled to her feet, leaving the easel leg embedded in Blair, almost collapsing again in the process. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Her entire body felt like it had been sliced to pieces.

But Blair wasn’t getting up to attack her.

Bryony took a hesitant step backwards. Then another. Blair was moving, but in no way that suggested she was able to do anything to enact her revenge. Bryony spat on to the floor and wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve.

She had done it. She had won.

Bryony stood there, doing nothing but breathing for a moment, before she left the room.

((Bryony Adams continued in eternitybox))
V7 BAYBEE
Lyra Doyle-Let's live tonight like fireflies, and one by one light up the sky
Current Thread: The Glorious Evolution - "Sorry, that was a little weird, wasn’t it?"
Katie Agustien-If you wanna start a fight, you better throw the first punch, make it a good one
Current Thread: V for Vend-etta - "Fuck off. Are you kidding me?"
FOLDER OF DESTINY

"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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