Fate is Not a Cage...

#1

((Kitty approached the quarters building once again.))

She remained crouched and out of sight, her back to one of the other building's walls, her grenade launcher in her hands, and her finger on the trigger. It was eerily quiet around the research station, the only sound filling her ears being the periodic cough and the soft crunch of snow under her boots. With the island's populace becoming more well-armed by the hour this late in the game, such a time was a rarity. She would have expected to hear a gunshot, or two, or twelve in the far distance. Kai would've directed the both of them away from wherever it was coming from.

Kitty remained where she lurked, the quarters entrance a dozen meters away. She was doing her best to scope out her surroundings for any potential ambushes, given Alex's poor attempt at one before. If anyone was after her—and there were definitely a lot of people after her—here and now would be the time to strike. The tunnels were the obvious safe route to take, but the grenade launcher was far too dangerous to use down there, and if she was trying to ambush someone picking up a prize here, she would've been waiting in the tunnels.

So, she was above ground instead, ducking between the exteriors of buildings, trying not to be seen as she did so. Hopefully whatever weapon she'd get as a prize would be better suited to clearing out any troublemakers in the tunnels.

Kitty anxiously ran her fingers through her hair, calming her nerves and untangling knots as best she could. It had been a while since she had seen her own reflection, but no-doubt her hair looked disheveled due to all the running around and having it constantly stuck into her hat and hood. How she wished she had packed a hairbrush, in hindsight. Perhaps she could pillage one off a corpse, if she was lucky.

Her throat tickled, and she hacked and coughed, spitting out another chunk of phlegm onto the ground next to her. She'd been doing that all morning, ever since she woke up. It came with a feeling of congestion, not dissimilar to a particularly bad cold. Breathing was a bit more difficult, which left her feeling more tired than usual. If she had to guess the cause, it was likely lingering effects of the previous night. The skin of her toes was completely numb too, and upon examination had been bright red. Probably mild frostbite, easily recognizable to anyone who spent enough time in the wilderness. She was lucky her symptoms weren't any worse.

At least the black eye—Ash's parting gift—had improved some. It hurt significantly less, and she could actually see out of the eye now, though it was still quite swollen and probably didn't look all that much better.

Satisfied that it didn't seem like anyone was waiting nearby for her, Kitty gingerly poked her head around the corner to see the entrance. Nobody there either, so I should be okay, she thought, only for a distant CRACK to pierce her eardrums, and for some of the concrete just above her head to explode into a shower of rubble and dust. The surprise caused her to tumble forward, twisting midair to land on her tail end. She did a double take between the fresh wound carved into the side of the building, and the treeline it must've come from before fully processing that she was in danger.

The ensuing adrenaline rush served her well as she vaulted upwards, sprinting at full pelt towards the quarters entrance. CRACK after CRACK after CRACK rang out as she ran, bullets whizzing by on all sides. Mid-run her foot caught in a patch of deep snow, and she stumbled forward. Stillness meant death. Without missing a beat, she momentarily took off on all fours to keep her momentum. Soon, she was back into a sprint, still getting shot at as she flung herself through the entrance doors, collapsing into a puddle on the floor as soon as she was out of sight.

Exhausted from the sudden exertion and panic, Kitty laid there for a few minutes, panting and coughing as she caught her breath. Tunnels it was for the way out, she supposed. Who exactly had been trying to snipe her? Lily immediately came to mind, but Kitty had to admit she couldn't be sure. It didn't matter anyway, she supposed, since everyone was on the hit list regardless of whether or not they were a direct threat to her. At least she could thank the stars that whoever they were, they were a terrible shot.

Once her breathing had slowed and her muscles had finally stopped burning, Kitty stood up, and made her way into the dining room. Immediately upon entering through the door, she was greeted by two things: the corpse stench, and Eden. His body was still by the entrance, empty eyes and a massive gash in his neck and all.

"Hey Eden," Kitty chirped, as though she was greeting an old friend she hadn't seen in a long time. "Sorry about earlier. But also not sorry, I guess."

It felt weird being so casual about someone she had murdered, like she was damning her soul to an even deeper, blacker pit of hell for the disrespect. Immediately, the usual gamut of thoughts deriding herself began running through her mind, but she simply smacked herself on the side of the head to clear them out. New attitude and new her, she reminded herself. The word of the day was carefree. Talking to corpses was quirky, a fun character trait.

Speaking of, a new corpse seemed to have appeared since last time she was here. Not someone she immediately recognized given the decomposition, but she wanted to say his name started with J? Whatever, who he was didn't matter. The dead don't have voices with which to complain.

Another wave of rot-stench hit her nose, and with it came nausea. Immediately, she covered her mouth, trying to resist the urge to vomit. Clearly, the cold hadn't slowed decomposition enough. That, or someone had a full bowel when they died. Either way, she couldn't enjoy any food under these conditions.

"Ugh, sorry y'all," she groaned, pinching her nose, "but you guys are gonna ruin my meal."

Briefly, Kitty poked her nose out of the dining room door, checking to make sure whoever had shot at her hadn't followed. It seemed safe, and she couldn't hear anyone moving around nearby, so it was probably fine. And if it wasn't, all that meant was she'd have another corpse to toss outside before she was done.

Setting her bag down inside, Kitty dragged the trio of bodies one by one out into the hallway, piling them next to the outer door. It was exhausting work, and created massive trails of ugly brown blood, but at least it wasn't as exhausting as sprinting with all the pounds of gear she had. After a moment of considered hesitation, she pushed the door open, careful to make sure she couldn't be seen from the treeline, and tossed each of them outside. Though, it was less like tossing and more like toppling them into a heap just outside the door, but she was doing her best.

No new gunshots rang out by the time she was done, a fact which slightly unnerved her. No telling if they had decided to reposition, or were heading inside somewhere. Definitely taking the tunnels out.

Heading back inside the dining area, Kitty left the door propped the door open with her bag, and then sat down to wait. Once the stink had either cleared itself out, or she had become nose blind to it, she moved her belongings inside, stood up, and went to where her reward had been stashed.

Her prizes had been laid out on the kitchen counter, the food hidden in an insulated container. Kitty cracked it open, and inside was a heaping helping of pasta and garlic bread. Her mouth began to water at the sight. Next to it, some kind of coffee pot full of a clear yellow fluid. She didn't remember exactly what they had mentioned as her reward, only the location. Maybe the drink was apple juice?

Kitty shrugged, putting the food down to pick up and examine her new weapon. It was some kind of shotgun, and a fairly hefty one at that, the included shells being way bigger than any she'd seen before. This was her real reward for killing her sister. It should hopefully serve her well in the days to come. Despite Kai's best efforts, between her new gun and the grenade launcher, she was probably the biggest threat still running around.

Setting the weapon down, she got to enjoying her included meal. The pasta was delicious despite being lukewarm, and she'd never met a garlic bread that she didn't like. Much, much better than the mediocre first meal that she had gotten, and that mediocre meal was still the best meal she had for days at that point. It was a small comfort, and it almost made her feel better about losing her sister and all her friends!

Almost.

Still, it was an excellent meal all around, and she hadn't even gotten to the drink. She picked up the strange pitcher, examining it with some hesitation, before taking a sip. The instant the foul tasting liquid hit her tongue, Kitty spat it out. It was terribly bitter, and left a burning sensation behind. What even was this, alcohol?

She sniffed it, the aroma being a mix of a vague fruity scent and rubbing alcohol. So it was alcohol, maybe some kind of wine? She thought she might've heard them say that, during the announcements. How was alcohol supposed to help her survive?

Kitty stared at it in contemplation for a few moments, and then took another sip, forcing herself to swallow it despite the terrible flavor.

She'd never had alcohol before. Adults supposedly liked getting drunk. She supposed she could sacrifice a few brain cells to cross something off her bucket list.

After a minute, she had the wine and her shotgun moved over to one of the tables, taking a seat and sipping while she read the manual for her weapon. With some care, she turned the safety on, and practiced loading it and pumping it to cycle through the cartridges. She couldn't imagine alcohol and guns were a safe combination, especially for someone of her emotional stability, but she wasn't exactly known for making reasonable decisions, now was she?

Wait, did that count as self-hatred or humorous self-deprecation? Man, trying to love herself unconditionally was hard.

She shook her head as if clearing an etch-a-sketch, and kept reading, periodically sipping at the wine. As time passed, she started to feel strange, a kind of strangeness she'd normally associate with being drugged in a hospital. She was warm, and her head felt fuzzy. So fuzzy that all the negative thoughts that she had been dutifully ignoring seemed to go away entirely. Wow! No wonder adults liked this. Maybe once she got out of here, she could try to find more?

Actually, wait, no. That's how she would become an alcoholic.

Still, this feeling was nice, however long it lasted.

((In the end, Kitty ended up staying inside the dining area until she was forced to leave, wobbling out the door with her prizes in tow.))