Check Out My New Weapon, Weapon of Choice
Check Out My New Weapon, Weapon of Choice
((Miranda Millers continued from Last Days))
For the rest of her first day here, it was fairly uneventful. Miranda had simply stepped out of town, and found herself in a woodland that seemed to last forever. It was a quiet, almost lonely walk. Sometimes, Miranda would wonder if it was alright for her and Mara to go their own ways, but she would brush that aside.
As the sun slowly set across the horizon, Miranda had begun to panic. It had suddenly dawned on her that she needed shelter, and she had left the first set of buildings she could find that would protect her from the weather and wild animals, as well as god knew what else. It was probably safer to go with something sturdy for the time being. Worst was, Miranda had expected it to be the only sort of buildings on the island.
Luckily for her, that suspicion was proven incorrect.
By the time the sky had turned to a muted pink and purple, Miranda had found herself at another set of buildings on the other side of the woods. That was a good thing. She was going to be warm and as cozy as she could get here, provided that no one else was hiding out somewhere where she couldn't see them.
Her spear remained in her hand, just in case.
She stepped further into town, her footsteps becoming light and exhausted.
Like the last place she was, it was very silent and desolate, like something killed everyone off at once. And like the last place, it unnerved her. There was so much apparent destruction and abandonment, judging by the broken glass and streetlights.
Miranda paused when she saw what appeared to be a home that has caved in.
She didn't want to think about what happened to the last people who lived here.
Eventually, however, she found a house that fit her fancy. This one seemed large and spacey, and while it was clear it had seen past its glory days it had still kept that air to it. As she opened the door, a dusty smell hit her nose, causing her eyes to water and her face to briefly wrinkle up.
This was, essentially, going to be her home for the evening.
Miranda stepped further inside, looking around at her surroundings. Everything still seemed intact. There was still a couch and a coffee table, parked near a now-broken TV. Spiderwebs hung off a ceiling fan like some sort of string. Even with shoes on, the carpet seemed almost squishy.
A small look of disgust passed over her.
Really, though, it could be worse. It was probably better than laying down on the ground for the evening.
As she stepped gently on the stairs leading up, Miranda heard the wood creak underneath her. She... guessed creaky was good. That way, she would know if someone was coming up the steps. The first thing she saw when she reached the top was a pair of doors. It was safe to say that these were the bedrooms. With hesitation, she slowly opened the door closest to her.
The bed was still made, as if someone thought they were going to return to it one day. Miranda slid the bag off her shoulder, a loud thump accompanying it hitting the floor.
She didn't really have much thought to her other than resting.
So she closed the door behind her kicked off her shoes, and slid herself under the covers. They smelled weird and musty, but the bed was still as soft as it could get.
Miranda had placed the spear against the wall closest to her, but a bit of thought had popped through her mind. It wasn't close enough, in her opinion. Someone could take it, and use it against her while she was sleeping. She pulled herself back up, and reached for her weapon, sliding it underneath the sheets with her.
It was a weird feeling, holding a spear in a bed like some sort of teddy bear in an abandoned house you've never been before on some island where your classmates wanted to kill you. But even with that odd feeling, she closed her eyes.
When she opened her eyes again, the window giving a view outside had changed. The sky was no longer growing dark, but instead streaks of orange and yellow had replaced the colors before.
Untangling herself from her spear, Miranda sat up, rubbing her head.
And that's when she noticed the first thing about herself when she had woken up: she was hungry. She hadn't eaten much yesterday. Now, she felt the distinct ache of someone who was in need of breakfast.
Her first thought was, of course, to look through her bag to see what she had.
As she completely pulled herself off the bed, she saw that her bag was still there, in exactly the way she left it. With tired feet, she wandered over, and unzipped, looking for something she could eat. She had tried a bit of the energy bars they had given her yesterday, but a small nibble told her she would like them that much.
But there had to be other food, right?
Like the beef jerky she had packed for the trip. Miranda had just found it.
In spite of everything, a smile beamed across her face, as if she had just won the multi-million dollar lottery. And as far as Miranda was concerned, she had. Gleefully sitting back down on the bed, she opened it and took out a piece, tearing into it like some wild animal.
The beef jerky was so much better than those energy bars they had given them, in her opinion.
After a few bites, she closed the bag and placed it next to her. It was going to be saved for later.
Miranda then noticed the second thing about herself: she was filthy. Her once pristine white dress with its red polka dots had sand and dirt all over it. Her hands weren't much better, either; she could spot a bit of soil underneath her nails. It was clear that she had to wash up soon. Even in a death match she wasn't planning on looking this atrocious for too long.
She pulled herself off the bed again, and pulled the bag towards her.
Within a few minutes, Miranda had looked through what clothes she had with her, and laid them out onto the bed. She had seen that there was a walk-in bathroom, so she could investigate to see if the shower still worked. Miranda slid into it, carrying her travel sized bathroom supplies.
Like everything else, it was clear the bathroom had seen better days. A thin layer of orange and black mold had lined the linoleum, making her crinkle her face again. But she had to try it.
Gently, she turned the handle, and after a beat, a stream of water came out. Miranda placed her hand inside of it, checking for temperature. Well, it was clear there was still working water here. What they didn't have, though, was apparently heating. After a few minutes of this, the water wasn't getting any warmer.
Sighing, she pulled her hand out.
Like everything else here, she had to make do with what she had.
Miranda slid her clothes off, and stepped inside, her hand pulling the switch to make the water come through the showerhead. She flinched as the cold water hit her face.
Once she was done cleaning herself up, she turned off the water and dried herself as best as she could. Once she stepped out, she walked up to the mirror, and found her small toothbrush and toothpaste. As she brushed her teeth, still naked, she couldn't help but notice a red dot in the reflection.
It took her a while to realize what it was, causing her to spit out her toothpaste and turn around to get a better look. Her eyes squinted in the dim lighting, but she saw it; the red light was coming from a camera, its lens taking in everything.
Miranda frowned, feeling uncomfortable by this information.
Some time later, Miranda dressed herself, having slid a light pink blouse and a darker colored but matching skirt on. After brushing her brown hair and putting her hairband back on, she looked through her small makeup kit. It was odd, really. A eyeliner pencil was gone from it. And that wasn't even the only thing missing as well. Her iPod, her notebook full of sketches, her cellphone, anything electronic or could be used for writing had vanished. Electronic she could get, but writing?
After applying what makeup she had left, she placed the case back into her bag and picked up her spear, examining it.
It was a nice weapon, really. Of course, Miranda wasn't familiar with weapons, being a girl from Seattle who never had to handle one before. But she couldn't help but admire it a bit. The long wooden handle was already starting to feel disturbingly comfortable in her hand.
It was only a matter of time before she had to use it.
It was a tool she had to grow familiar with quickly.
As she examined it, she remembered how she had heard somewhere that soldiers or something like that would name their rifles, out of some kind of connection with their weapons she guessed. The idea popped into her head to name it something, even as a joke. But that seemed silly, didn't it? Like, something kind of... ridiculous. It was just a spear.
But she knew she had to use it, and soon. When, she didn't know, but soon.
Snapping her out of her thoughts was the loud sound of cracking, followed by a mechanical hum. Her head snapped up, looking for the source. At first, she had thought it was someone using some kind of weird weapon, but she realized quickly it was an intercom system starting up.
"Good morning, everyone. I hope those of you who slept got some good rest. The rest of you, well, at least you're alive to hear this. That's more than I can say for some of your classmates."
Miranda recognized the voice from the briefing, and shuddered a little bit at the memory. She hadn't thought of it since then, but she remembered how they executed Davidge in front of them.
The voice went on. Someone had jumped off a cliff, another apparently begged for their lives before being shot. Two more had been gunned down. Another one, this time a head injury. Someone fell off a balcony.
She didn't pick up the names from that, but she knew one thing: people were serious. They were going to kill each other, just like how she... no, she wasn't going to think about that.
The announcement ended with mentioning one of the killers would receive a new weapon, along with Coke and a burger. Just like how it started, it ended as quickly.
Miranda quietly sat on her bed with her spear still in her hands, thinking.
The one thought that passed through her head at that moment disturbed her, just like the thoughts that passed through her head when she had woken up on the beach had unnerved her. It still continued to frighten her about how selfish she could be.
But in the end, Miranda had realized that she could kill for a double cheeseburger right about now.
For the rest of her first day here, it was fairly uneventful. Miranda had simply stepped out of town, and found herself in a woodland that seemed to last forever. It was a quiet, almost lonely walk. Sometimes, Miranda would wonder if it was alright for her and Mara to go their own ways, but she would brush that aside.
As the sun slowly set across the horizon, Miranda had begun to panic. It had suddenly dawned on her that she needed shelter, and she had left the first set of buildings she could find that would protect her from the weather and wild animals, as well as god knew what else. It was probably safer to go with something sturdy for the time being. Worst was, Miranda had expected it to be the only sort of buildings on the island.
Luckily for her, that suspicion was proven incorrect.
By the time the sky had turned to a muted pink and purple, Miranda had found herself at another set of buildings on the other side of the woods. That was a good thing. She was going to be warm and as cozy as she could get here, provided that no one else was hiding out somewhere where she couldn't see them.
Her spear remained in her hand, just in case.
She stepped further into town, her footsteps becoming light and exhausted.
Like the last place she was, it was very silent and desolate, like something killed everyone off at once. And like the last place, it unnerved her. There was so much apparent destruction and abandonment, judging by the broken glass and streetlights.
Miranda paused when she saw what appeared to be a home that has caved in.
She didn't want to think about what happened to the last people who lived here.
Eventually, however, she found a house that fit her fancy. This one seemed large and spacey, and while it was clear it had seen past its glory days it had still kept that air to it. As she opened the door, a dusty smell hit her nose, causing her eyes to water and her face to briefly wrinkle up.
This was, essentially, going to be her home for the evening.
Miranda stepped further inside, looking around at her surroundings. Everything still seemed intact. There was still a couch and a coffee table, parked near a now-broken TV. Spiderwebs hung off a ceiling fan like some sort of string. Even with shoes on, the carpet seemed almost squishy.
A small look of disgust passed over her.
Really, though, it could be worse. It was probably better than laying down on the ground for the evening.
As she stepped gently on the stairs leading up, Miranda heard the wood creak underneath her. She... guessed creaky was good. That way, she would know if someone was coming up the steps. The first thing she saw when she reached the top was a pair of doors. It was safe to say that these were the bedrooms. With hesitation, she slowly opened the door closest to her.
The bed was still made, as if someone thought they were going to return to it one day. Miranda slid the bag off her shoulder, a loud thump accompanying it hitting the floor.
She didn't really have much thought to her other than resting.
So she closed the door behind her kicked off her shoes, and slid herself under the covers. They smelled weird and musty, but the bed was still as soft as it could get.
Miranda had placed the spear against the wall closest to her, but a bit of thought had popped through her mind. It wasn't close enough, in her opinion. Someone could take it, and use it against her while she was sleeping. She pulled herself back up, and reached for her weapon, sliding it underneath the sheets with her.
It was a weird feeling, holding a spear in a bed like some sort of teddy bear in an abandoned house you've never been before on some island where your classmates wanted to kill you. But even with that odd feeling, she closed her eyes.
When she opened her eyes again, the window giving a view outside had changed. The sky was no longer growing dark, but instead streaks of orange and yellow had replaced the colors before.
Untangling herself from her spear, Miranda sat up, rubbing her head.
And that's when she noticed the first thing about herself when she had woken up: she was hungry. She hadn't eaten much yesterday. Now, she felt the distinct ache of someone who was in need of breakfast.
Her first thought was, of course, to look through her bag to see what she had.
As she completely pulled herself off the bed, she saw that her bag was still there, in exactly the way she left it. With tired feet, she wandered over, and unzipped, looking for something she could eat. She had tried a bit of the energy bars they had given her yesterday, but a small nibble told her she would like them that much.
But there had to be other food, right?
Like the beef jerky she had packed for the trip. Miranda had just found it.
In spite of everything, a smile beamed across her face, as if she had just won the multi-million dollar lottery. And as far as Miranda was concerned, she had. Gleefully sitting back down on the bed, she opened it and took out a piece, tearing into it like some wild animal.
The beef jerky was so much better than those energy bars they had given them, in her opinion.
After a few bites, she closed the bag and placed it next to her. It was going to be saved for later.
Miranda then noticed the second thing about herself: she was filthy. Her once pristine white dress with its red polka dots had sand and dirt all over it. Her hands weren't much better, either; she could spot a bit of soil underneath her nails. It was clear that she had to wash up soon. Even in a death match she wasn't planning on looking this atrocious for too long.
She pulled herself off the bed again, and pulled the bag towards her.
Within a few minutes, Miranda had looked through what clothes she had with her, and laid them out onto the bed. She had seen that there was a walk-in bathroom, so she could investigate to see if the shower still worked. Miranda slid into it, carrying her travel sized bathroom supplies.
Like everything else, it was clear the bathroom had seen better days. A thin layer of orange and black mold had lined the linoleum, making her crinkle her face again. But she had to try it.
Gently, she turned the handle, and after a beat, a stream of water came out. Miranda placed her hand inside of it, checking for temperature. Well, it was clear there was still working water here. What they didn't have, though, was apparently heating. After a few minutes of this, the water wasn't getting any warmer.
Sighing, she pulled her hand out.
Like everything else here, she had to make do with what she had.
Miranda slid her clothes off, and stepped inside, her hand pulling the switch to make the water come through the showerhead. She flinched as the cold water hit her face.
Once she was done cleaning herself up, she turned off the water and dried herself as best as she could. Once she stepped out, she walked up to the mirror, and found her small toothbrush and toothpaste. As she brushed her teeth, still naked, she couldn't help but notice a red dot in the reflection.
It took her a while to realize what it was, causing her to spit out her toothpaste and turn around to get a better look. Her eyes squinted in the dim lighting, but she saw it; the red light was coming from a camera, its lens taking in everything.
Miranda frowned, feeling uncomfortable by this information.
Some time later, Miranda dressed herself, having slid a light pink blouse and a darker colored but matching skirt on. After brushing her brown hair and putting her hairband back on, she looked through her small makeup kit. It was odd, really. A eyeliner pencil was gone from it. And that wasn't even the only thing missing as well. Her iPod, her notebook full of sketches, her cellphone, anything electronic or could be used for writing had vanished. Electronic she could get, but writing?
After applying what makeup she had left, she placed the case back into her bag and picked up her spear, examining it.
It was a nice weapon, really. Of course, Miranda wasn't familiar with weapons, being a girl from Seattle who never had to handle one before. But she couldn't help but admire it a bit. The long wooden handle was already starting to feel disturbingly comfortable in her hand.
It was only a matter of time before she had to use it.
It was a tool she had to grow familiar with quickly.
As she examined it, she remembered how she had heard somewhere that soldiers or something like that would name their rifles, out of some kind of connection with their weapons she guessed. The idea popped into her head to name it something, even as a joke. But that seemed silly, didn't it? Like, something kind of... ridiculous. It was just a spear.
But she knew she had to use it, and soon. When, she didn't know, but soon.
Snapping her out of her thoughts was the loud sound of cracking, followed by a mechanical hum. Her head snapped up, looking for the source. At first, she had thought it was someone using some kind of weird weapon, but she realized quickly it was an intercom system starting up.
"Good morning, everyone. I hope those of you who slept got some good rest. The rest of you, well, at least you're alive to hear this. That's more than I can say for some of your classmates."
Miranda recognized the voice from the briefing, and shuddered a little bit at the memory. She hadn't thought of it since then, but she remembered how they executed Davidge in front of them.
The voice went on. Someone had jumped off a cliff, another apparently begged for their lives before being shot. Two more had been gunned down. Another one, this time a head injury. Someone fell off a balcony.
She didn't pick up the names from that, but she knew one thing: people were serious. They were going to kill each other, just like how she... no, she wasn't going to think about that.
The announcement ended with mentioning one of the killers would receive a new weapon, along with Coke and a burger. Just like how it started, it ended as quickly.
Miranda quietly sat on her bed with her spear still in her hands, thinking.
The one thought that passed through her head at that moment disturbed her, just like the thoughts that passed through her head when she had woken up on the beach had unnerved her. It still continued to frighten her about how selfish she could be.
But in the end, Miranda had realized that she could kill for a double cheeseburger right about now.
-
- Posts: 190
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:24 am
((Kaitlyn Williamson concluded from On a Midnight Dreary.))
Kaitlyn's legs felt like they had been set on fire. Her lungs cried out in agony with every step. She hadn't felt this bad until she slowed down. Mere moments ago, she felt as fleet as a deer, running through the forest without a care. Now, she was aware of small cuts from branches hitting her bare arms and hands, and could feel the muscles throughout her legs and back complaining about the long, hard run. She wasn't absolutely sure how far she had run, with adrenaline and emotion pushing her forward. She couldn't even remember when her collar had stopped beeping, with her original purpose fading into the distance as she ran. She leaned against a fence and dropped her duffel bag at her feet, feeling slightly nauseous. She had only vomited once before from running, and that had been from sprinting heavily. While she had started her long run with a sprint, she had not kept that pace up. Which was good, because she suspected that she would be, at this point, unable to walk if she had.
"Let's never do that again, kay? Especially cross country. That was not fun, and I was damn lucky I didn't end up tripping on a root and breaking my neck," Kaitlyn said to herself, still panting. Her breath was starting to return, though not as quickly as she would like. She had not considered how difficult running across difficult terrain could be. In the future, she decided, she would have to more carefully consider the meaning of "difficult terrain."
Kaitlyn paced in small circles, trying to keep her legs from locking up. She did not notice that the fence she walked near surrounded a house whose door was ajar. She was too busy trying not to throw up.
Kaitlyn's legs felt like they had been set on fire. Her lungs cried out in agony with every step. She hadn't felt this bad until she slowed down. Mere moments ago, she felt as fleet as a deer, running through the forest without a care. Now, she was aware of small cuts from branches hitting her bare arms and hands, and could feel the muscles throughout her legs and back complaining about the long, hard run. She wasn't absolutely sure how far she had run, with adrenaline and emotion pushing her forward. She couldn't even remember when her collar had stopped beeping, with her original purpose fading into the distance as she ran. She leaned against a fence and dropped her duffel bag at her feet, feeling slightly nauseous. She had only vomited once before from running, and that had been from sprinting heavily. While she had started her long run with a sprint, she had not kept that pace up. Which was good, because she suspected that she would be, at this point, unable to walk if she had.
"Let's never do that again, kay? Especially cross country. That was not fun, and I was damn lucky I didn't end up tripping on a root and breaking my neck," Kaitlyn said to herself, still panting. Her breath was starting to return, though not as quickly as she would like. She had not considered how difficult running across difficult terrain could be. In the future, she decided, she would have to more carefully consider the meaning of "difficult terrain."
Kaitlyn paced in small circles, trying to keep her legs from locking up. She did not notice that the fence she walked near surrounded a house whose door was ajar. She was too busy trying not to throw up.
For some time, Miranda sat on the bed, thinking to herself. The spear still laid in her hands, as sharp and as deadly as ever. A lot of thoughts went through her mind, certainly, but they came and went.
Eventually, Miranda lifted herself off the bed, and packed what things were still laying out. Within a few moments, everything was organized and placed back into her bag. Miranda made the bed as best she could, mostly out of habit, and put on her socks and shoes. After slinging the bag over her shoulder, exited the bedroom and stepped down the stairs.
The steps once again creaked as she went down, smelling the scent of dust and mold once more. She had been almost used to it by now, but sometimes it took her by surprise.
Once she made her way to the bottom of the stairs, she found out she had left the door ajar last night. She should have been more careful. It was too late now, though.
Slowly opening the door, she peered out, looking at the outside. After a beat, she opened the door completely, and stepped outside, her feet once again hitting the ground.
At first she didn't see anyone, but then she spotted her.
Miranda recognized that black and purple hair. That was Kaitlyn Williamson. She froze up. Did she know she was in there, and was she waiting for her to come out? Was she armed? Miranda didn't see anything on her, but you never know. What if someone was with her, hidden somewhere, and was armed? What then?
She frowned, feeling the same sensation that came over her when Veronica had shown up yesterday. If she needed to, could she do it here? Could she do it?
Taking a deep breath, she stepped closer.
"Williamson."
Eventually, Miranda lifted herself off the bed, and packed what things were still laying out. Within a few moments, everything was organized and placed back into her bag. Miranda made the bed as best she could, mostly out of habit, and put on her socks and shoes. After slinging the bag over her shoulder, exited the bedroom and stepped down the stairs.
The steps once again creaked as she went down, smelling the scent of dust and mold once more. She had been almost used to it by now, but sometimes it took her by surprise.
Once she made her way to the bottom of the stairs, she found out she had left the door ajar last night. She should have been more careful. It was too late now, though.
Slowly opening the door, she peered out, looking at the outside. After a beat, she opened the door completely, and stepped outside, her feet once again hitting the ground.
At first she didn't see anyone, but then she spotted her.
Miranda recognized that black and purple hair. That was Kaitlyn Williamson. She froze up. Did she know she was in there, and was she waiting for her to come out? Was she armed? Miranda didn't see anything on her, but you never know. What if someone was with her, hidden somewhere, and was armed? What then?
She frowned, feeling the same sensation that came over her when Veronica had shown up yesterday. If she needed to, could she do it here? Could she do it?
Taking a deep breath, she stepped closer.
"Williamson."
-
- Posts: 190
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:24 am
Kaitlyn jumped slightly when she heard her (last) name being called. She turned, wary, and saw Miranda standing by the door to the house with a spear in her hand. Kaitlyn shifted her weight back slightly, eying the weapon. It worried her slightly, but she was fairly confident that she could keep the spear out of her fleshy bits if it came to that. She settled her face into what she hoped was a friendly smile.
"Hey, Miranda. Didn't realize there was anyone around here."
Her voice was slightly strained due to her panting and general fatigue from her run. She hoped it wasn't too obvious; friendliness aside, everyone on the island should be treated like a potential threat. Showing weakness was a good way to get killed.
"Hey, Miranda. Didn't realize there was anyone around here."
Her voice was slightly strained due to her panting and general fatigue from her run. She hoped it wasn't too obvious; friendliness aside, everyone on the island should be treated like a potential threat. Showing weakness was a good way to get killed.
((GMing approved))
Miranda glared. She had a weird look on her face, like she was trying to smile and be friendly. What was Kaitlyn doing? She looked exhausted. Or maybe... she was planning something, hence why that looked fake. What was, exactly, the reason for waiting outside here?
Maybe the island was starting to get to her, and she was just being paranoid. Maybe that was it. But what if she was right in some way?
Maybe Kaitlyn was indeed hoping to lure her out somehow. Maybe she was waiting for someone to jump out and kill anyone who left the house.
Maybe Kaitlyn was hoping to make her let her guard down, and then kill her when she least expected it.
The thoughts flew through Miranda's head in a panic. She didn't want to be here, or for Kaitlyn to be here. At that moment, she was completely unsure of what to do. There was a lot passing through, and it didn't seem like one thing was the right option.
The first thing she thought of, she did.
She felt herself stomp further to Kaitlyn, spear posed in front of her.
"Go away", she commanded, her voice raising. "Go away!"
Everything after that was briefly a blur.
Miranda remembered seeing Kaitlyn freeze up. Miranda remembered dropping her bag, and the spear striking at Kaitlyn. It had missed, but Kaitlyn had backed into the fence. Over what seemed like a few seconds, Miranda had slammed into her, grabbing her and keeping her close to the fence.
Eventually, things seemed to have stopped.
Kaitlyn's face had distorted in pain, as Miranda's left hand had her gripped by the throat against the fence. Miranda's other hand had the spear, which near her hand was surprisingly warmly wet and...
Oh.
Miranda didn't dare look down at the spear, which she quickly realized was inside Kaitlyn's stomach, nor did she dare look Kaitlyn in the eyes.
This... wasn't what she had planned at all. What Miranda had intended was just... to scare her away. Not this. She freaked out too much, panicked too badly and.. she just... stabbed her. Just like that.
Well, she was planning on killing someone if it came down to it, did it? But could this one be justified, by any means?
She was still alive. Miranda could still hear her breathing and struggling to stay that way. She wasn't likely to be for much longer.
Much like Kaitlyn, she had a look of shock on her face.
Miranda glared. She had a weird look on her face, like she was trying to smile and be friendly. What was Kaitlyn doing? She looked exhausted. Or maybe... she was planning something, hence why that looked fake. What was, exactly, the reason for waiting outside here?
Maybe the island was starting to get to her, and she was just being paranoid. Maybe that was it. But what if she was right in some way?
Maybe Kaitlyn was indeed hoping to lure her out somehow. Maybe she was waiting for someone to jump out and kill anyone who left the house.
Maybe Kaitlyn was hoping to make her let her guard down, and then kill her when she least expected it.
The thoughts flew through Miranda's head in a panic. She didn't want to be here, or for Kaitlyn to be here. At that moment, she was completely unsure of what to do. There was a lot passing through, and it didn't seem like one thing was the right option.
The first thing she thought of, she did.
She felt herself stomp further to Kaitlyn, spear posed in front of her.
"Go away", she commanded, her voice raising. "Go away!"
Everything after that was briefly a blur.
Miranda remembered seeing Kaitlyn freeze up. Miranda remembered dropping her bag, and the spear striking at Kaitlyn. It had missed, but Kaitlyn had backed into the fence. Over what seemed like a few seconds, Miranda had slammed into her, grabbing her and keeping her close to the fence.
Eventually, things seemed to have stopped.
Kaitlyn's face had distorted in pain, as Miranda's left hand had her gripped by the throat against the fence. Miranda's other hand had the spear, which near her hand was surprisingly warmly wet and...
Oh.
Miranda didn't dare look down at the spear, which she quickly realized was inside Kaitlyn's stomach, nor did she dare look Kaitlyn in the eyes.
This... wasn't what she had planned at all. What Miranda had intended was just... to scare her away. Not this. She freaked out too much, panicked too badly and.. she just... stabbed her. Just like that.
Well, she was planning on killing someone if it came down to it, did it? But could this one be justified, by any means?
She was still alive. Miranda could still hear her breathing and struggling to stay that way. She wasn't likely to be for much longer.
Much like Kaitlyn, she had a look of shock on her face.
-
- Posts: 190
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:24 am
((GMing likewise approved.))
Kaitlyn reacted quickly as Miranda advanced aggressively, shifting quickly into a fighting stance and raising her hands. The first lunge was easy to avoid; Kaitlyn simply stepped back out of range. As Miranda advanced, Kaitlyn kept moving back until....
She felt her foot strike the fence. Her eyes, for the barest moment, left Miranda and looked back. Time seemed to slow down as Miranda closed and caught her throat. This wouldn't have been a problem, if it weren't for the feeling of cold steel sliding into her stomach. She leaned back against the fence, gasping for breath. The pain was incredible, something she had never experienced before. Miranda stepped back, panic and guilt on her face. The spear slid out of the wound, and blood poured out with it. Kaitlyn looked up, putting her hand on the wound and sliding to the ground.
Somewhere in the back of her mind she was panicking, scared, and firmly denying what had happened. At the front, though, she knew that she had been expecting something like this to happen, ever since the announcement. Maybe not like this, and definitely not this soon. But she had known that Death was stalking this island, and the odds were against her. She looked up at her killer, and reached out a bloody hand.
"Please," she said, her voice thready and weak. "Don't leave me to bleed. Just end it."
Miranda looked panicked for a moment, then she swallowed, closed her eyes, and nodded. Kaitlyn was vaguely aware of tears on her own cheeks as her killer stepped forward, spear held in both hands. She pointed the spear at Kaitlyn's chest, and Kaitlyn's eyes closed. She felt the spear pierce her heart....
And then, she felt nothing.
((Girl 73, Kaitlyn Williamson - Eliminated.))
Kaitlyn reacted quickly as Miranda advanced aggressively, shifting quickly into a fighting stance and raising her hands. The first lunge was easy to avoid; Kaitlyn simply stepped back out of range. As Miranda advanced, Kaitlyn kept moving back until....
She felt her foot strike the fence. Her eyes, for the barest moment, left Miranda and looked back. Time seemed to slow down as Miranda closed and caught her throat. This wouldn't have been a problem, if it weren't for the feeling of cold steel sliding into her stomach. She leaned back against the fence, gasping for breath. The pain was incredible, something she had never experienced before. Miranda stepped back, panic and guilt on her face. The spear slid out of the wound, and blood poured out with it. Kaitlyn looked up, putting her hand on the wound and sliding to the ground.
Somewhere in the back of her mind she was panicking, scared, and firmly denying what had happened. At the front, though, she knew that she had been expecting something like this to happen, ever since the announcement. Maybe not like this, and definitely not this soon. But she had known that Death was stalking this island, and the odds were against her. She looked up at her killer, and reached out a bloody hand.
"Please," she said, her voice thready and weak. "Don't leave me to bleed. Just end it."
Miranda looked panicked for a moment, then she swallowed, closed her eyes, and nodded. Kaitlyn was vaguely aware of tears on her own cheeks as her killer stepped forward, spear held in both hands. She pointed the spear at Kaitlyn's chest, and Kaitlyn's eyes closed. She felt the spear pierce her heart....
And then, she felt nothing.
((Girl 73, Kaitlyn Williamson - Eliminated.))
((Ruby Forrester continued from Ultimately We Just Want To Be Happy))
Despite her best efforts, Ruby wasn't able to find Cassidy.
She did try, no doubt about it. But just as she expected, it was virtually impossible to figure out which direction the distraught girl had ran off in. She could have been halfway across the island for all she knew, and neither Ruby or Ami had any means of finding her.
That said, after exploring the area surrounding the shopping centre for a good hour or so Ruby could have sworn that she had seen someone in the forest to the south. She wasn't sure if it was Cassidy, someone else or just a figment of her imagination, but at any rate it was at least something.
Unfortunately though, she wasn't able to confirm whether or not it was any of the above, and after a good hour or so of wandering through the woods she eventually came to the conclusion that she had no hope of finding the poor girl. With only a few hours of sunlight left, she and Ami decided to head further south towards a small settlement that the map referred to as the nuclear living site. Whilst it didn't exactly sound like the most ideal place to live, she figured there would be less people there than in the town, which was probably swarming with Rizzolo-Wannabes by now.
On the way, she engaged in a little small talk with Ami. Nothing too major, mainly discussing and sharing each others interests, such as Ruby's preference to modern poetry like the work of Carol Anne Duffy to the old Ukrainian ones that Ami read. Anything really to keep their minds off the horrible situation they had found themselves in, though Ruby also liked having the chance to get to know Ami a little better as person.
By the time they finally made it to the living quarters, the sun had just finished setting and the streets were pitch black. It was quite an intimidating sight to say the least. The abandoned utilitarian houses, the eerie concrete lawns, the distinct lack of life. It was like something out of a post-apocalyptic sci-fi movie. The fact that there was a large ominous nuclear power station in the distance certainly didn't help. Whilst Ruby wasn't exactly a scientist, she was generally under the impression that leaving power stations like that unattended was generally a bad thing for the environment, given how it only took one mishap for a Chernobyl-style disaster to occur.
The thought then crossed her mind that maybe that's why this island got abandoned in the first place.
Great, so even if I do survive all this I'll possibly end up with radiation sickness anyway. Fucking fantastic.
In any case, with nowhere better to stay the two decided to set up camp in one of the many rusty houses, eventually finding one that was relatively intact. After giving it a quick search to make sure that it wasn't already occupied, Ruby locked the front door and set up what she hoped would be a decent defence. Since the top of the staircase happened to overlook the front door, she figured that it would be a good idea to set up Ami's stinger so that anyone who tried to get up the stairs would find themselves staring up at a .30-06 heavy-machine gun aimed downward in their direction.
At first the two girls took turns manning the gun, the other taking the opportunity to get some shut-eye in the dusty double-bed. Eventually though during Ruby's turn on the gun she found herself drifting off to sleep, despite the fact that all she had to keep herself comfy was a pair of spare pillows Ami had found. The majority of the night she had been able to keep herself awake by thinking about everything that had happened thus far, as well as think about what exactly they were going to do in the morning.
She also thought back to her decision back at the shopping centre, wondering whether or not she had made the right choice with Gavin. Maybe Gavin would have made for a perfect ally? What if she had been rash to brush him off so quickly because of an assumption she had made about his loyalty? It was too late now to change her mind, and regardless a part of her felt that she had made the right decision.
And of course, she also thought back to her family and friends back home. How were they coping with the news of her abduction? Were they watching it streamed live, or could they not bare to witness whatever cruel fate this island had in mind for her? She wouldn't blame them if that was the case, but at the same time it would have been nice to know whether or not her loved ones were watching over her. Speaking of which...
Regan. Jesus, I wonder how you're taking all this? Thank god you're safe, I don't think I'd be able to cope knowing that you were trapped on this hellish island with me. Shame I can't say the same thing about Brian though...
Eventually, Ruby was awoken by the sound of the first announcement blaring from a nearby megaphone, her heart racing as Danya Mk II began to list the names of those who hadn't been as lucky as her. Thankfully, none of her closed friends had been named, though the fact remained that people she knew and shared classes with were now dead. Dead at the hands of other classmates she was reasonably familiar with.
Fuck this game. Well, at least I'm not going to blow up any time soon. Should probably check in on Ami, see how she's taking the news...
Despite her best efforts, Ruby wasn't able to find Cassidy.
She did try, no doubt about it. But just as she expected, it was virtually impossible to figure out which direction the distraught girl had ran off in. She could have been halfway across the island for all she knew, and neither Ruby or Ami had any means of finding her.
That said, after exploring the area surrounding the shopping centre for a good hour or so Ruby could have sworn that she had seen someone in the forest to the south. She wasn't sure if it was Cassidy, someone else or just a figment of her imagination, but at any rate it was at least something.
Unfortunately though, she wasn't able to confirm whether or not it was any of the above, and after a good hour or so of wandering through the woods she eventually came to the conclusion that she had no hope of finding the poor girl. With only a few hours of sunlight left, she and Ami decided to head further south towards a small settlement that the map referred to as the nuclear living site. Whilst it didn't exactly sound like the most ideal place to live, she figured there would be less people there than in the town, which was probably swarming with Rizzolo-Wannabes by now.
On the way, she engaged in a little small talk with Ami. Nothing too major, mainly discussing and sharing each others interests, such as Ruby's preference to modern poetry like the work of Carol Anne Duffy to the old Ukrainian ones that Ami read. Anything really to keep their minds off the horrible situation they had found themselves in, though Ruby also liked having the chance to get to know Ami a little better as person.
By the time they finally made it to the living quarters, the sun had just finished setting and the streets were pitch black. It was quite an intimidating sight to say the least. The abandoned utilitarian houses, the eerie concrete lawns, the distinct lack of life. It was like something out of a post-apocalyptic sci-fi movie. The fact that there was a large ominous nuclear power station in the distance certainly didn't help. Whilst Ruby wasn't exactly a scientist, she was generally under the impression that leaving power stations like that unattended was generally a bad thing for the environment, given how it only took one mishap for a Chernobyl-style disaster to occur.
The thought then crossed her mind that maybe that's why this island got abandoned in the first place.
Great, so even if I do survive all this I'll possibly end up with radiation sickness anyway. Fucking fantastic.
In any case, with nowhere better to stay the two decided to set up camp in one of the many rusty houses, eventually finding one that was relatively intact. After giving it a quick search to make sure that it wasn't already occupied, Ruby locked the front door and set up what she hoped would be a decent defence. Since the top of the staircase happened to overlook the front door, she figured that it would be a good idea to set up Ami's stinger so that anyone who tried to get up the stairs would find themselves staring up at a .30-06 heavy-machine gun aimed downward in their direction.
At first the two girls took turns manning the gun, the other taking the opportunity to get some shut-eye in the dusty double-bed. Eventually though during Ruby's turn on the gun she found herself drifting off to sleep, despite the fact that all she had to keep herself comfy was a pair of spare pillows Ami had found. The majority of the night she had been able to keep herself awake by thinking about everything that had happened thus far, as well as think about what exactly they were going to do in the morning.
She also thought back to her decision back at the shopping centre, wondering whether or not she had made the right choice with Gavin. Maybe Gavin would have made for a perfect ally? What if she had been rash to brush him off so quickly because of an assumption she had made about his loyalty? It was too late now to change her mind, and regardless a part of her felt that she had made the right decision.
And of course, she also thought back to her family and friends back home. How were they coping with the news of her abduction? Were they watching it streamed live, or could they not bare to witness whatever cruel fate this island had in mind for her? She wouldn't blame them if that was the case, but at the same time it would have been nice to know whether or not her loved ones were watching over her. Speaking of which...
Regan. Jesus, I wonder how you're taking all this? Thank god you're safe, I don't think I'd be able to cope knowing that you were trapped on this hellish island with me. Shame I can't say the same thing about Brian though...
Eventually, Ruby was awoken by the sound of the first announcement blaring from a nearby megaphone, her heart racing as Danya Mk II began to list the names of those who hadn't been as lucky as her. Thankfully, none of her closed friends had been named, though the fact remained that people she knew and shared classes with were now dead. Dead at the hands of other classmates she was reasonably familiar with.
Fuck this game. Well, at least I'm not going to blow up any time soon. Should probably check in on Ami, see how she's taking the news...
(Ami Flynn continued from Ultimately We Just Want To Be Happy )
It could have been sleep-deprivation playing tricks, but Ami swore she saw something move in the house across from them.
Ami looked out the window to her right, warily, out of the corner of her eye. The window was not gigantic but it gave a pretty good view of the outside, more the front than the back. It was no lighthouse or a lookout tower but it gave Ami enough coverage. It also gave her a reason to stand up without technically looking away.
She stared at the window opposite her for what felt like a hour but was only a minute. Then she exhaled, only then realizing she was holding her breath in.
"I'm losing it." She pressed her hand to her temple.
Ami's situation was the complete opposite to Ruby's; her partner mentioned that she kept drifting off at the helm, and she seemed annoyed that she had to fight off the desire to sleep. Ami wished she could have switched places with her, because she could not get to sleep no matter how hard she tried.
While the double-bed was comfier than she imagined, she spent most of the time in bed staring up at the ceiling. The images that made her nauseous before were still there, but she was used to those by then. Her mind lingered on something else.
Gavin.
"Maybe you'll need another friend out there, and you won't go wrong if you have somebody like me watching over you."
She considered what Gavin had said. And the more she mulled over it, the more she wished she could turn back time just so she could slap him.
Gavin's offer, when taken at face value, had some semblance of logic. And from the way he made it sound, she was a fool to have rejected him.
But contextually it made no sense! If she were to give Gavin her gun, he would know how to use it. He made that point very clear. And if he knew how to use it, it stood to reason that he could, and would, be able to use it. Shooting someone is akin to just up and killing them. Therefore, Gavin would have the ability and willpower to hurt a lot of people.
The thought of killing her own classmates felt wrong, even by proxy! But was that really why she snapped at him? Not entirely, though she didn't want to admit it to herself.
"... The only thing you'll do if you try and use that gun is break both your own shoulders..."
Most of it had to do with the way he spoke to her, like it was entirely beneficial for her to just give away a big gun. Surely such a weak, pathetic girl like her wouldn't be able to use a big boy gun, right?
But she could. Theoretically. After all, she studied the gun inside and out when she went to load the thing proper. She knew how to reload it, thanks to the instructional sheet included, and she understood that the bi pod wasn't just something for her hand to grip. Her gun could be used while prone on the ground or under the shoulder.
But that begged a question. She knew how to load it, she figured out how it was supposed to be used but did that mean she would be able to use it? Would she even hit anything?
More importantly, could she use it on someone else?
... she didn't know the answer to that. Was that an answer in and of itself?
And such was the spiral. Little thoughts begetting little thoughts, and eventually the snowball became a giant bowling ball made out of ice, toppling over everything else in it's path until Ami found herself unable to sleep.
So that lead to Ami taking her shift about a hour early. Ruby looked concerned when Ami came but she was much to tired to object. So there Ami sat, waiting for over several hours, keeping a lookout and -- okay, there was definitely someone over there.
Ami looked through the window. The figure she found was not inside the house across from her but just outside of it. Ami could not make out who it was but it must have been a girl.
"... what the heck?"
Ami squinted her eyes. Why was she walking in circles? Ami almost laughed, despite how rude it might have seemed. It was awfully silly, wasn't it? Pacing in circles in the middle of the night. Maybe she was having trouble sleeping too?
That was when she saw another figure, leaving the house opposite hers. She didn't recognize this girl either, not at first, but she was certain it was the same person she caught a quick glimpse of. Ami's curiosity peeked. Then there was a silent exchange of words.
Much later, as she went over all of her past choices, both at home and on the island, Ami would wonder whether Kaitlyn's death was her fault. Her decision to just watch Miranda from afar and not do or say anything was enough to implicate her.
Logic, the deductive code that Ami Flynn lived by, told her otherwise. She didn't listen. Kaitlyn Williams, a girl she had never spoken to let alone known the name of, died because Ami did nothing It was her fault and she would have to take her guilt with her to the grave.
But Ami was, as one might say, in the moment. She simply opened the window to peek her head out.
There was nothing else to the conversation other than a booming scream and an equally loud sound. Like a knife stabbing a slab of meat.
"Oh."
- "Oh God!"
Without thinking Ami reeled her head back inside, slamming the window shut. She turned and started walking, nearly tripping over her machine gun, before hightailing it towards the bedroom.
"Ruby," Ami said, "Ruby. Ruby!"
Ami threw the door open to the bedroom. She looked surprised to see Ruby already awake.
"Ruby, come quick," Ami sputtered, "Something's happened, I - !"
There were no tears in her eyes, but Ami visibly shook, with unblinking eyes and a quivering mouth. Ami was out of sync; her mind wrote paragraphs while her mouth could barely cough up a sentence. She walked further into the room, looking over her shoulder at the window, at her gun, sitting at the top of the stairs.
"Someone's dead," Ami finally managed. Her voice cracked as she spoke. "Jesus, Ruby, someone killed her!"
It could have been sleep-deprivation playing tricks, but Ami swore she saw something move in the house across from them.
Ami looked out the window to her right, warily, out of the corner of her eye. The window was not gigantic but it gave a pretty good view of the outside, more the front than the back. It was no lighthouse or a lookout tower but it gave Ami enough coverage. It also gave her a reason to stand up without technically looking away.
She stared at the window opposite her for what felt like a hour but was only a minute. Then she exhaled, only then realizing she was holding her breath in.
"I'm losing it." She pressed her hand to her temple.
Ami's situation was the complete opposite to Ruby's; her partner mentioned that she kept drifting off at the helm, and she seemed annoyed that she had to fight off the desire to sleep. Ami wished she could have switched places with her, because she could not get to sleep no matter how hard she tried.
While the double-bed was comfier than she imagined, she spent most of the time in bed staring up at the ceiling. The images that made her nauseous before were still there, but she was used to those by then. Her mind lingered on something else.
Gavin.
"Maybe you'll need another friend out there, and you won't go wrong if you have somebody like me watching over you."
She considered what Gavin had said. And the more she mulled over it, the more she wished she could turn back time just so she could slap him.
Gavin's offer, when taken at face value, had some semblance of logic. And from the way he made it sound, she was a fool to have rejected him.
But contextually it made no sense! If she were to give Gavin her gun, he would know how to use it. He made that point very clear. And if he knew how to use it, it stood to reason that he could, and would, be able to use it. Shooting someone is akin to just up and killing them. Therefore, Gavin would have the ability and willpower to hurt a lot of people.
The thought of killing her own classmates felt wrong, even by proxy! But was that really why she snapped at him? Not entirely, though she didn't want to admit it to herself.
"... The only thing you'll do if you try and use that gun is break both your own shoulders..."
Most of it had to do with the way he spoke to her, like it was entirely beneficial for her to just give away a big gun. Surely such a weak, pathetic girl like her wouldn't be able to use a big boy gun, right?
But she could. Theoretically. After all, she studied the gun inside and out when she went to load the thing proper. She knew how to reload it, thanks to the instructional sheet included, and she understood that the bi pod wasn't just something for her hand to grip. Her gun could be used while prone on the ground or under the shoulder.
But that begged a question. She knew how to load it, she figured out how it was supposed to be used but did that mean she would be able to use it? Would she even hit anything?
More importantly, could she use it on someone else?
... she didn't know the answer to that. Was that an answer in and of itself?
And such was the spiral. Little thoughts begetting little thoughts, and eventually the snowball became a giant bowling ball made out of ice, toppling over everything else in it's path until Ami found herself unable to sleep.
So that lead to Ami taking her shift about a hour early. Ruby looked concerned when Ami came but she was much to tired to object. So there Ami sat, waiting for over several hours, keeping a lookout and -- okay, there was definitely someone over there.
Ami looked through the window. The figure she found was not inside the house across from her but just outside of it. Ami could not make out who it was but it must have been a girl.
"... what the heck?"
Ami squinted her eyes. Why was she walking in circles? Ami almost laughed, despite how rude it might have seemed. It was awfully silly, wasn't it? Pacing in circles in the middle of the night. Maybe she was having trouble sleeping too?
That was when she saw another figure, leaving the house opposite hers. She didn't recognize this girl either, not at first, but she was certain it was the same person she caught a quick glimpse of. Ami's curiosity peeked. Then there was a silent exchange of words.
Much later, as she went over all of her past choices, both at home and on the island, Ami would wonder whether Kaitlyn's death was her fault. Her decision to just watch Miranda from afar and not do or say anything was enough to implicate her.
Logic, the deductive code that Ami Flynn lived by, told her otherwise. She didn't listen. Kaitlyn Williams, a girl she had never spoken to let alone known the name of, died because Ami did nothing It was her fault and she would have to take her guilt with her to the grave.
But Ami was, as one might say, in the moment. She simply opened the window to peek her head out.
There was nothing else to the conversation other than a booming scream and an equally loud sound. Like a knife stabbing a slab of meat.
"Oh."
- "Oh God!"
Without thinking Ami reeled her head back inside, slamming the window shut. She turned and started walking, nearly tripping over her machine gun, before hightailing it towards the bedroom.
"Ruby," Ami said, "Ruby. Ruby!"
Ami threw the door open to the bedroom. She looked surprised to see Ruby already awake.
"Ruby, come quick," Ami sputtered, "Something's happened, I - !"
There were no tears in her eyes, but Ami visibly shook, with unblinking eyes and a quivering mouth. Ami was out of sync; her mind wrote paragraphs while her mouth could barely cough up a sentence. She walked further into the room, looking over her shoulder at the window, at her gun, sitting at the top of the stairs.
"Someone's dead," Ami finally managed. Her voice cracked as she spoke. "Jesus, Ruby, someone killed her!"
Almost on cue, Miranda stepped back, sliding the blade out of her and releasing her grip. Kaitlyn fell to the ground, shuddering in pain. Miranda firmly closed her eyes, wanting to avoid the sight. She knew this was coming. Miranda knew she would have to kill soon. It was down to her or her classmates. And she knew that she couldn't just hide forever.
Even then, something about the whole thing still hurt.
She was aware of Kaitlyn still moving, but she didn't want to.
No.
She couldn't truly claim she didn't mean to. Miranda had already made her choice to play. She meant to kill someone. Just because she wasn't planning on killing her just now didn't mean that she didn't have intent to murder. It was murder, plain and simple. If she tried to describe it as anything else, she would be denying the truth.
But sometimes, the truth still hurt.
A small voice reached Miranda's ears, and she opened her eyes again. Kaitlyn was reaching out, her hand stained with red blood, begging. She was still suffering. She didn't want to be anymore. Her request was a simple enough one, and....
Miranda felt she should honor it.
Stepping towards Kaitlyn again, she took a deep breath, closing her eyes firmly once more briefly and nodded.
Some questions you find yourself asking here are ones you normally don't find yourself asking, not at Seattle. In this case the question was "neck or chest?". Both had the potential of ending it quickly, but she wasn't sure which one would be quicker, or which one would hurt more. If she went for the neck, would she spend a few more minutes trying to breath? If she went for the chest, would she bleed out faster?
Miranda chose quickly, and decided on "chest".
She raised the point above Kaitlyn's chest, and took another deep breath.
She counted internally as she lowered the spear.
5...
4...
3...
2...
1...
Once the spear was lowered and removed, Miranda knew one thing.
She was alone again.
Miranda, in some part of her mind, heard some noises in the distance, but her mind was focused elsewhere. The spear quietly dripped with still warm blood in her hands, the droplets gently hitting the ground.
This was her first kill, then. It had been a lot easier to accomplish than she would have imagined. If you had asked her before, it would have been harder in her mind's eye to kill someone. She would think the task would be much more...
Her only true prior experience with killing was in some sort of video game, where enemies could be gunned down without remorse. It's something you don't think about when you're playing some first-person shooter or some RPG. You just attack, hope they don't attack back, and reap the riches. Briefly looking back at all of those memories of her playing games, she had no idea how hard and yet how easy taking a life truly was.
Oh, who was she kidding? Why was she making this a pity party about herself when she just stabbed someone?
Miranda looked away, noticing that the door of the house she had exited from was still open. Without a word, she went back to her own bag, which had fallen during the conflict, and after slinging it over her shoulder she slid back inside.
Everything looked the same as it did before.
Miranda slipped the bag off, and looked around her.
A pair of dusty red curtains framed the window in the living room, creating a barrier between her and the outside. Still aware of the spear in her hand, still very much dripping, she went over to inspect. Miranda placed her spear on the ground, and gave one of the curtains a very firm tug. It fell to the ground, giving her a more clear view of the world.
Miranda picked up her spear again and cleaned it using the curtain. No matter how much she cleaned, it still seemed to be in some way filthy. Just when she thought it was almost clean, there seemed to be a small droplet of blood.
Even when she stopped she still felt it was filthy.
A thought hit her, and Miranda looked through the window. She needed to see Kaitlyn again.
Pausing for a few seconds, she decided to go back outside. The morning air felt almost cold against her, as she held her spear and bag close.
With nervousness in her step, she approached Kaitlyn again. The red shapes still covered her torso, staining her purple shirt.
Miranda tried to think. It didn't seem right, leaving her out here like this. Something about the idea seemed... barbaric, even for here. But what could she do? She didn't have a shovel and she doubted that the spear would make a good substitute. She could get something like sheets or the curtains, and use that to cover her up. Burning her? No, she didn't have something like that.
Yet another question she found herself asking: what to do with the body of someone who you just killed?
Even then, something about the whole thing still hurt.
She was aware of Kaitlyn still moving, but she didn't want to.
No.
She couldn't truly claim she didn't mean to. Miranda had already made her choice to play. She meant to kill someone. Just because she wasn't planning on killing her just now didn't mean that she didn't have intent to murder. It was murder, plain and simple. If she tried to describe it as anything else, she would be denying the truth.
But sometimes, the truth still hurt.
A small voice reached Miranda's ears, and she opened her eyes again. Kaitlyn was reaching out, her hand stained with red blood, begging. She was still suffering. She didn't want to be anymore. Her request was a simple enough one, and....
Miranda felt she should honor it.
Stepping towards Kaitlyn again, she took a deep breath, closing her eyes firmly once more briefly and nodded.
Some questions you find yourself asking here are ones you normally don't find yourself asking, not at Seattle. In this case the question was "neck or chest?". Both had the potential of ending it quickly, but she wasn't sure which one would be quicker, or which one would hurt more. If she went for the neck, would she spend a few more minutes trying to breath? If she went for the chest, would she bleed out faster?
Miranda chose quickly, and decided on "chest".
She raised the point above Kaitlyn's chest, and took another deep breath.
She counted internally as she lowered the spear.
5...
4...
3...
2...
1...
Once the spear was lowered and removed, Miranda knew one thing.
She was alone again.
Miranda, in some part of her mind, heard some noises in the distance, but her mind was focused elsewhere. The spear quietly dripped with still warm blood in her hands, the droplets gently hitting the ground.
This was her first kill, then. It had been a lot easier to accomplish than she would have imagined. If you had asked her before, it would have been harder in her mind's eye to kill someone. She would think the task would be much more...
Her only true prior experience with killing was in some sort of video game, where enemies could be gunned down without remorse. It's something you don't think about when you're playing some first-person shooter or some RPG. You just attack, hope they don't attack back, and reap the riches. Briefly looking back at all of those memories of her playing games, she had no idea how hard and yet how easy taking a life truly was.
Oh, who was she kidding? Why was she making this a pity party about herself when she just stabbed someone?
Miranda looked away, noticing that the door of the house she had exited from was still open. Without a word, she went back to her own bag, which had fallen during the conflict, and after slinging it over her shoulder she slid back inside.
Everything looked the same as it did before.
Miranda slipped the bag off, and looked around her.
A pair of dusty red curtains framed the window in the living room, creating a barrier between her and the outside. Still aware of the spear in her hand, still very much dripping, she went over to inspect. Miranda placed her spear on the ground, and gave one of the curtains a very firm tug. It fell to the ground, giving her a more clear view of the world.
Miranda picked up her spear again and cleaned it using the curtain. No matter how much she cleaned, it still seemed to be in some way filthy. Just when she thought it was almost clean, there seemed to be a small droplet of blood.
Even when she stopped she still felt it was filthy.
A thought hit her, and Miranda looked through the window. She needed to see Kaitlyn again.
Pausing for a few seconds, she decided to go back outside. The morning air felt almost cold against her, as she held her spear and bag close.
With nervousness in her step, she approached Kaitlyn again. The red shapes still covered her torso, staining her purple shirt.
Miranda tried to think. It didn't seem right, leaving her out here like this. Something about the idea seemed... barbaric, even for here. But what could she do? She didn't have a shovel and she doubted that the spear would make a good substitute. She could get something like sheets or the curtains, and use that to cover her up. Burning her? No, she didn't have something like that.
Yet another question she found herself asking: what to do with the body of someone who you just killed?
Holy shit...
Ruby was halfway through munching on a food bar when Ami started calling her name, her head turning towards the door as Ami burst in and gave her the news.
At first, Ruby assumed she was referring to the announcement. Which was odd, considering that it had been a good ten minutes or so since then. Then she noticed the look on Ami's face. The way she spoke, the way her skin seemed paler than usual. Everything pointed to one conclusion.
Ami had just witnessed someone get murdered right outside the house they were staying in.
She gulped down the mouthful of breakfast and grabbed her submachinegun, quickly but quietly making her way down the corridor to the window Ami was referring to. As much as she wanted to avoid the horrors this island had to offer, she knew that she had to see this with her own eyes. She knew that if she ignored stuff like this by hiding away like a frightened child, then she wouldn't be prepared for when things inevitably take a turn for the worse and she had to actively defend herself.
Most of all though, she had to know whether or not Ami was right. Despite the look on the girl's face, a part of Ruby didn't want to believe what she had heard. She didn't want to believe that a girl just died right next to the house she was staying in barely minutes ago.
But sure enough, as she looked out the window, her worst fears were confirmed. She couldn't make out who they were from where she was standing, but there was no mistaking what had just happened. One girl held a bloody spear in her hand, and the other girl was lying on the floor in a pool of...
Oh dear god...
She stumbled back, clumsily regaining her footing as she brought her hand to her mouth in an attempt to stop herself from throwing up. All her life, she'd never seen anything quite like this. Not in person anyway. Sure, she'd seen hundreds of movies where people got impaled all the time, and she'd seen news footage of things like this happening in foreign countries. But actually seeing it in the flesh, right before her very eyes. Not even the goriest horror movie could ever prepare someone for that.
The next question though was what exactly was she going to do about this.
She looked out the window again, noticing that the girl with the spear had made her way into the house across the street, leaving her victim's body lying in the middle of the sidewalk. Christ, how could anyone walk away from something like that? How could anyone stomach doing something like that in the first place? Sure, people have been impaling each other with spears for thousands of years, but how could one of her own classmates bring herself to do such a horrific thing?
Against all common sense, Ruby felt an irresistible urge to take a closer look. She had to know whose death she and Ami had just witnessed. More importantly, she had to know who had been the one to cause said death. The killer was inside the house at the moment, so this was probably the best chance she'd get at finding out.
Ruby turned to Ami, silently motioning her to cover the window whilst she made her way downstairs.
Her hands were shaking as she began her decent, taking care to not make too much noise as she did so. She wasn't entirely sure whether or not the killer would hear her even if she did stamp about without a care in the world, but nevertheless she didn't want to take that chance. Someone just got killed, so frankly she had every reason to be completely terrified.
As she reached the bottom floor, she slowly then made her way into the bedroom, leaning against a wall right next to the cracked front window. She took a deep breath and leaned over, starting through the crack at the body lying outside.
From this close, she recognised who it was almost immediately. Kaitlyn Williamson. Nice girl, not exactly the most extroverted person in school, but for the most part she never meant anyone any harm. She was a writer, just like herself. One whom Ruby happened to share a couple of classes with.
And now she was dead. Lying in a pool of her own blood with not one, but two gaping puncture wounds in her lifeless body.
Ruby could barely contain her anger.
She was no longer disgusted by the sight, not in the same way anyway. Now she was furious, her hands no longer shaking as her fear from before found itself replaced with an insatiable rage. How could she have let this happen? Kaitlyn was literally just outside the house they were staying in! Why hadn't she done something to prevent this?!? Why hadn't Ami said something when she had the chance?!?
No, she shouldn't blame Ami for this. She was scared, just like her. She hadn't seen anything like this either. Sure, she was probably more experienced when it came to seeing dead bodies, but Ruby doubted that she was used to seeing how said bodies became corpses in the first place. No, the only person to blame here was the bitch with the bloody spear.
Speaking of which, guess who just made their way outside.
Miranda Millers. Miranda fucking Millers. Just had to be her, didn't it? Ruby never liked her that much to begin with. She hung out with Mara, Naomi and all the other elitist girls who thought they were better than everyone else. Whilst she hadn't expected her to actually go this far so early, at the same time knowing that it was her of all people just intensified her fury. Back in Seattle, she just didn't particularly like Miranda. Now though? Now she fucking loathed her.
And there was no way in hell she would let her go, not after what she had just done.
Ruby lifted her weapon, trying to remained concealed in the shadows as she took aim at Miranda. Deep down, she was yelling at herself to stop what she was doing before it was too late. That killing Miranda would solve absolutely nothing, and if anything was exactly what the bastards who kidnapped them wanted her to do. She had to prove that she was better than Miranda, that the only thing that all this pointless violence would prove was that the terrorists were right and that they were all doomed to slaughter one another.
But at that particular moment in time, she ignored these thoughts. Miranda killed Kaitlyn. She was a cold-blooded murderer who couldn't be allowed to go free, not after what she had just done. If she didn't act now whilst she had the chance and the means to put a stop to her, god knows how many people she would kill before someone else finally put a bullet in her? No fucking way she was going to let that happen. Miranda was going to die right here, right now for what she'd done, and no one was going to stop her.
All she had to do was pull the trigger. Simple as that.
Ruby was halfway through munching on a food bar when Ami started calling her name, her head turning towards the door as Ami burst in and gave her the news.
At first, Ruby assumed she was referring to the announcement. Which was odd, considering that it had been a good ten minutes or so since then. Then she noticed the look on Ami's face. The way she spoke, the way her skin seemed paler than usual. Everything pointed to one conclusion.
Ami had just witnessed someone get murdered right outside the house they were staying in.
She gulped down the mouthful of breakfast and grabbed her submachinegun, quickly but quietly making her way down the corridor to the window Ami was referring to. As much as she wanted to avoid the horrors this island had to offer, she knew that she had to see this with her own eyes. She knew that if she ignored stuff like this by hiding away like a frightened child, then she wouldn't be prepared for when things inevitably take a turn for the worse and she had to actively defend herself.
Most of all though, she had to know whether or not Ami was right. Despite the look on the girl's face, a part of Ruby didn't want to believe what she had heard. She didn't want to believe that a girl just died right next to the house she was staying in barely minutes ago.
But sure enough, as she looked out the window, her worst fears were confirmed. She couldn't make out who they were from where she was standing, but there was no mistaking what had just happened. One girl held a bloody spear in her hand, and the other girl was lying on the floor in a pool of...
Oh dear god...
She stumbled back, clumsily regaining her footing as she brought her hand to her mouth in an attempt to stop herself from throwing up. All her life, she'd never seen anything quite like this. Not in person anyway. Sure, she'd seen hundreds of movies where people got impaled all the time, and she'd seen news footage of things like this happening in foreign countries. But actually seeing it in the flesh, right before her very eyes. Not even the goriest horror movie could ever prepare someone for that.
The next question though was what exactly was she going to do about this.
She looked out the window again, noticing that the girl with the spear had made her way into the house across the street, leaving her victim's body lying in the middle of the sidewalk. Christ, how could anyone walk away from something like that? How could anyone stomach doing something like that in the first place? Sure, people have been impaling each other with spears for thousands of years, but how could one of her own classmates bring herself to do such a horrific thing?
Against all common sense, Ruby felt an irresistible urge to take a closer look. She had to know whose death she and Ami had just witnessed. More importantly, she had to know who had been the one to cause said death. The killer was inside the house at the moment, so this was probably the best chance she'd get at finding out.
Ruby turned to Ami, silently motioning her to cover the window whilst she made her way downstairs.
Her hands were shaking as she began her decent, taking care to not make too much noise as she did so. She wasn't entirely sure whether or not the killer would hear her even if she did stamp about without a care in the world, but nevertheless she didn't want to take that chance. Someone just got killed, so frankly she had every reason to be completely terrified.
As she reached the bottom floor, she slowly then made her way into the bedroom, leaning against a wall right next to the cracked front window. She took a deep breath and leaned over, starting through the crack at the body lying outside.
From this close, she recognised who it was almost immediately. Kaitlyn Williamson. Nice girl, not exactly the most extroverted person in school, but for the most part she never meant anyone any harm. She was a writer, just like herself. One whom Ruby happened to share a couple of classes with.
And now she was dead. Lying in a pool of her own blood with not one, but two gaping puncture wounds in her lifeless body.
Ruby could barely contain her anger.
She was no longer disgusted by the sight, not in the same way anyway. Now she was furious, her hands no longer shaking as her fear from before found itself replaced with an insatiable rage. How could she have let this happen? Kaitlyn was literally just outside the house they were staying in! Why hadn't she done something to prevent this?!? Why hadn't Ami said something when she had the chance?!?
No, she shouldn't blame Ami for this. She was scared, just like her. She hadn't seen anything like this either. Sure, she was probably more experienced when it came to seeing dead bodies, but Ruby doubted that she was used to seeing how said bodies became corpses in the first place. No, the only person to blame here was the bitch with the bloody spear.
Speaking of which, guess who just made their way outside.
Miranda Millers. Miranda fucking Millers. Just had to be her, didn't it? Ruby never liked her that much to begin with. She hung out with Mara, Naomi and all the other elitist girls who thought they were better than everyone else. Whilst she hadn't expected her to actually go this far so early, at the same time knowing that it was her of all people just intensified her fury. Back in Seattle, she just didn't particularly like Miranda. Now though? Now she fucking loathed her.
And there was no way in hell she would let her go, not after what she had just done.
Ruby lifted her weapon, trying to remained concealed in the shadows as she took aim at Miranda. Deep down, she was yelling at herself to stop what she was doing before it was too late. That killing Miranda would solve absolutely nothing, and if anything was exactly what the bastards who kidnapped them wanted her to do. She had to prove that she was better than Miranda, that the only thing that all this pointless violence would prove was that the terrorists were right and that they were all doomed to slaughter one another.
But at that particular moment in time, she ignored these thoughts. Miranda killed Kaitlyn. She was a cold-blooded murderer who couldn't be allowed to go free, not after what she had just done. If she didn't act now whilst she had the chance and the means to put a stop to her, god knows how many people she would kill before someone else finally put a bullet in her? No fucking way she was going to let that happen. Miranda was going to die right here, right now for what she'd done, and no one was going to stop her.
All she had to do was pull the trigger. Simple as that.
Ruby told her to stay and Ami stayed. There were thousands of little thoughts running through her mind, no doubt fueled by her exhaustion. The wood panels creaked as she waited by the door. Each one made her wince, and it made her desperate to move, to at least find a spot that didn't creak.
Would the killer be able to hear her going down the stairs, she wondered? It seemed like a silly idea. Wouldn't she - she was assuming it was a girl from her clothes - have heard Ruby coming down? And attacked her accordingly? Ami would have heard a gun shot, a loud bang at least.
But then she remembered that the other person didn't have a gun. They had a spear. If they were to sneak up on Ruby...
Ami pursed her lips. She had been trying to calm her nerves but it seemed that she was doing more harm than good. What if Ruby ended up like that other girl? All bloody and mangled?
"... God damn it."
Ami felt a distinct sense of Déjà Vu as she took each step at a time. This was similar to the shopping center, Ami recalled. She remember Ruby telling her not to go anywhere, then she went away. And immediately afterwards Ami followed after her. It unnerved Ami to think that she was repeating a mistake. She didn't even bother to take her gun with her.
Each step creaked louder than the last, digging into Ami's feet and making her wince. Ami remembered when she would occasionally sneak out of her room at night to get a glass of milk, and how she would know each and every spot the floor creaked in. As silly as it sounded, Ami kept expecting her father to appear and ask her what she was doing up so late.
The wind flew out of her. Ami stopped halfway down the stairs, gripping the railing for support. Her eyes immediately landed on a camera perched on the ceiling.
... she didn't see that before. It stuck out like a sore thumb.
Ami bit her lip. No, there would be no way he was watching this. Would he even know about her being here? ...
Ami never thought about killing someone. Never really thought about death either, you came right down to it. In that moment she did, suddenly thinking about her family back home. Any other time before that it just never happened.
For Ami, life was different. No sleepless nights laying in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking what it was like to die; no washing her hands compulsively, worried about catching a super virus; no carrying a taser with her when she went out at night, constantly looking over her shoulder; Ami never did these sorts of things because her father told her not to. And she didn't think about death because she grew up believing a lie.
Death is malleable and fickle, they told her. It comes when it wants to, they warned her. You cannot fight death, they said to her. They were wrong. You could fight death, actually. Survival of the Fittest gave you that option. The problem was that no one considered the possibility.
They were probably watching everything that she did. Did they see the other girl that was killed? Did they see Ami, watching, doing nothing?
All of her actions were being monitored, most likely judged by a viewing audience. They were probably sneering at the fact that she didn't try to save that stranger.
... Could she really kill someone?
Maybe. She wasn't so sure. Ami swore she asked herself the very same question a few moments ago and she couldn't come up with an answer then.
Maybe the answer was no. She let someone else die right in front of her. She let a deer die too. Just watched it die. Treated the deer and the girl the exact same way. What were the chances that she would be able to defend herself?
No chance.
Ami felt the corners of her lips turn downward. It was really her fault.
She took another step.
Why did any of this have to happen? She just wanted to go to Disney Land.
Ami found herself so caught up in thought that she nearly tripped at the last step. She quickly regained herself. A tremble ran up her spine as her eyes caught sight of another camera. She wasn't looking for them before, but now that she noticed one, she would naturally notice them all.
Ami felt something move out of the corner of her eye. She turned slightly to find that the doors to the bedroom were open. She took a few tentative steps forward, peering her head inside the door.
She saw Ruby pointing a gun. She couldn't see out the window, not reliably, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to know what she was pointing at.
"... Ruby?" Ami said without thinking.
Would the killer be able to hear her going down the stairs, she wondered? It seemed like a silly idea. Wouldn't she - she was assuming it was a girl from her clothes - have heard Ruby coming down? And attacked her accordingly? Ami would have heard a gun shot, a loud bang at least.
But then she remembered that the other person didn't have a gun. They had a spear. If they were to sneak up on Ruby...
Ami pursed her lips. She had been trying to calm her nerves but it seemed that she was doing more harm than good. What if Ruby ended up like that other girl? All bloody and mangled?
"... God damn it."
Ami felt a distinct sense of Déjà Vu as she took each step at a time. This was similar to the shopping center, Ami recalled. She remember Ruby telling her not to go anywhere, then she went away. And immediately afterwards Ami followed after her. It unnerved Ami to think that she was repeating a mistake. She didn't even bother to take her gun with her.
Each step creaked louder than the last, digging into Ami's feet and making her wince. Ami remembered when she would occasionally sneak out of her room at night to get a glass of milk, and how she would know each and every spot the floor creaked in. As silly as it sounded, Ami kept expecting her father to appear and ask her what she was doing up so late.
The wind flew out of her. Ami stopped halfway down the stairs, gripping the railing for support. Her eyes immediately landed on a camera perched on the ceiling.
... she didn't see that before. It stuck out like a sore thumb.
Ami bit her lip. No, there would be no way he was watching this. Would he even know about her being here? ...
Ami never thought about killing someone. Never really thought about death either, you came right down to it. In that moment she did, suddenly thinking about her family back home. Any other time before that it just never happened.
For Ami, life was different. No sleepless nights laying in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking what it was like to die; no washing her hands compulsively, worried about catching a super virus; no carrying a taser with her when she went out at night, constantly looking over her shoulder; Ami never did these sorts of things because her father told her not to. And she didn't think about death because she grew up believing a lie.
Death is malleable and fickle, they told her. It comes when it wants to, they warned her. You cannot fight death, they said to her. They were wrong. You could fight death, actually. Survival of the Fittest gave you that option. The problem was that no one considered the possibility.
They were probably watching everything that she did. Did they see the other girl that was killed? Did they see Ami, watching, doing nothing?
All of her actions were being monitored, most likely judged by a viewing audience. They were probably sneering at the fact that she didn't try to save that stranger.
... Could she really kill someone?
Maybe. She wasn't so sure. Ami swore she asked herself the very same question a few moments ago and she couldn't come up with an answer then.
Maybe the answer was no. She let someone else die right in front of her. She let a deer die too. Just watched it die. Treated the deer and the girl the exact same way. What were the chances that she would be able to defend herself?
No chance.
Ami felt the corners of her lips turn downward. It was really her fault.
She took another step.
Why did any of this have to happen? She just wanted to go to Disney Land.
Ami found herself so caught up in thought that she nearly tripped at the last step. She quickly regained herself. A tremble ran up her spine as her eyes caught sight of another camera. She wasn't looking for them before, but now that she noticed one, she would naturally notice them all.
Ami felt something move out of the corner of her eye. She turned slightly to find that the doors to the bedroom were open. She took a few tentative steps forward, peering her head inside the door.
She saw Ruby pointing a gun. She couldn't see out the window, not reliably, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to know what she was pointing at.
"... Ruby?" Ami said without thinking.
Miranda's eyes flicked about, eventually landing on the second bag laying nearby on the ground.
She felt horrible, but a surge of curiosity came over her. Did Kaitlyn have something in there? A weapon, food? Oh god, she was seriously thinking of... and she still needed to figure out what to do with Kaitlyn. And now, here she was, thinking about the contents of her bag before thinking of a way to get Kaitlyn's body out of sight. The body which she... well, made that way. It was not a good feeling to be thinking like this at all.
But in spite of her revulsion, she quietly stepped towards the bag, and, placing her own and her spear on the ground, took a closer look.
Her heart raced. What was in here? Would it be some kind of weapon, or worse? Would there be something there for her to be scared of? Maybe something that was hers from before, like a picture of her family? Did she see someone die, or worse, attacked someone before?
This was it. Miranda was now looting through the last possessions of someone she had previously killed. She hated the idea, but she didn't want to keep her curiosity waiting.
Slowly, she unzipped the bag.
Her hands moved some objects around, but as she searched every nook and cranny of the bag, she started to become confused. The confusion turned to laughter. It was less like something genuinely funny had made her laugh, and more like the kind of bitter laughter she would make at an Aristocrats joke that hit everything wrong.
There was nothing particularly notable about the bag. The only thing of note was that she seemed to have extra food.
Miranda wondered if she should take the food and water. There was something wrong, the idea of taking someone's things after killing them. Miranda almost wanted to leave the food behind. However, food. Reluctantly, she moved the remaining food and water to her own.
After standing up, she looked back to Kaitlyn, a gulp in her throat. Miranda remembered something; she just tore down the curtain a few minutes ago. It was probably a good idea to get it so that her body would be at least covered. That somehow... seemed the right thing to do.
Picking up her spear and her now somewhat more heavy bag, she nervously walked back towards the house, only...
A series of banging noises hit her ear.
Miranda froze, taking a few beats to process it. It didn't take long, though.
In her entire life, Miranda had never actually heard a gunshot. It was usually in movies and such that she heard them, not reality. But now she knew, based off her ringing ears. To make matters worse, whoever it was, by the sounds of it, had a machine gun. And to make matters even worse? By the sound of things, they were aiming towards her. Even if she thought they didn't get her, they were still there.
Her mind slipped away from the curtain, and the only thought that went through her mind was one thing; run.
Miranda darted as fast as she could with the heavy bag and spear, leaving Kaitlyn's cooling, looted, uncovered, and alone body.
She didn't stop until she was out of town.
((Miranda Millers continued in No Whammies. Gunshots approved by Fio))
She felt horrible, but a surge of curiosity came over her. Did Kaitlyn have something in there? A weapon, food? Oh god, she was seriously thinking of... and she still needed to figure out what to do with Kaitlyn. And now, here she was, thinking about the contents of her bag before thinking of a way to get Kaitlyn's body out of sight. The body which she... well, made that way. It was not a good feeling to be thinking like this at all.
But in spite of her revulsion, she quietly stepped towards the bag, and, placing her own and her spear on the ground, took a closer look.
Her heart raced. What was in here? Would it be some kind of weapon, or worse? Would there be something there for her to be scared of? Maybe something that was hers from before, like a picture of her family? Did she see someone die, or worse, attacked someone before?
This was it. Miranda was now looting through the last possessions of someone she had previously killed. She hated the idea, but she didn't want to keep her curiosity waiting.
Slowly, she unzipped the bag.
Her hands moved some objects around, but as she searched every nook and cranny of the bag, she started to become confused. The confusion turned to laughter. It was less like something genuinely funny had made her laugh, and more like the kind of bitter laughter she would make at an Aristocrats joke that hit everything wrong.
There was nothing particularly notable about the bag. The only thing of note was that she seemed to have extra food.
Miranda wondered if she should take the food and water. There was something wrong, the idea of taking someone's things after killing them. Miranda almost wanted to leave the food behind. However, food. Reluctantly, she moved the remaining food and water to her own.
After standing up, she looked back to Kaitlyn, a gulp in her throat. Miranda remembered something; she just tore down the curtain a few minutes ago. It was probably a good idea to get it so that her body would be at least covered. That somehow... seemed the right thing to do.
Picking up her spear and her now somewhat more heavy bag, she nervously walked back towards the house, only...
A series of banging noises hit her ear.
Miranda froze, taking a few beats to process it. It didn't take long, though.
In her entire life, Miranda had never actually heard a gunshot. It was usually in movies and such that she heard them, not reality. But now she knew, based off her ringing ears. To make matters worse, whoever it was, by the sounds of it, had a machine gun. And to make matters even worse? By the sound of things, they were aiming towards her. Even if she thought they didn't get her, they were still there.
Her mind slipped away from the curtain, and the only thought that went through her mind was one thing; run.
Miranda darted as fast as she could with the heavy bag and spear, leaving Kaitlyn's cooling, looted, uncovered, and alone body.
She didn't stop until she was out of town.
((Miranda Millers continued in No Whammies. Gunshots approved by Fio))
Oddly enough, firing a gun at one of your classmates was a task easier said than done.
Every time Ruby was about to pull the trigger, she would think of some way of putting it off. Was her aim steady enough? Had she made sure to turn the safety off? Was she even holding the gun correctly? She wasn't sure how many times she counted down 3-2-1, only to change her mind at the last minute as she found yet another excuse to delay the inevitable.
Why was she hesitating like this? It wasn't even that big a moral dilemma. Miranda had killed someone in cold-blood and would probably try to do it again, so it made sense to stop her now whilst she had the chance. If she didn't do something now, who else might end up being announced dead the following day at the hands of Miranda? What if Miranda went on to kill Brian? How would she feel knowing that she had failed to prevent the death of her friends because she didn't have the guts to take down a confirmed player when she had the perfect opportunity to do so?
Maybe it was because deep down, she knew that as soon as she pulled that trigger, there was definitely no going back. She would have to live with her decision for the rest of her life, which may or may not be very long depending on whether she survives this mess. Everyone would know that she had killed someone. Regardless of the circumstances, the fact remained that she would have chosen to kill someone. Someone who, just like her, was stuck in a truly shitty situation where the only way to escape with your morality intact was by dying.
Making matters worse was the fact that if she did kill Miranda, there was no way she could claim to have done so in self-defence. It would a premeditated decision to murder another living breathing human being. What would her family think of her if she did this? What would Regan think of her? Did she even know for certain that Miranda had killed Kaitlyn on purpose? She didn't recall Ami telling her the exact details of what happened, so from all she knew it could have been self-defence after all, or even a freak accident. These things did happen after all, so who was she to assume that Miranda had set out to murder Kaitlyn in cold blood? Could Ruby bring herself to commit such an atrocious action, one which went against everything she believed in?
Then again, could Ruby risk letting someone so potentially dangerous go, despite the fact that she knew for certain that Miranda had killed and could easily do so again?
Okay, for real this time. 5... 4.... 3..... 2........
...Ami?!? What the hell are you doing down here?!?
Ruby was caught off-guard by the sound of Ami's voice, her head wheeling around to see her standing not too far away. She quickly motioned her to stay quiet, a frustrated look on her face as she looked back outside. Thankfully, from the look of things Miranda hadn't heard her.
She had, however, decided to get up from looting Kaitlyn's body and begin heading elsewhere.
No! Shit, it's now or never...
On that note, without further ado, Ruby finally pulled the trigger.
As it happened, this was the first time she had ever fired a gun before. And sure enough, it was an experience she would never forget.
Ruby had expected there to be some recoil. She had seen those youtube videos of dumb redneck girls getting knocked on their asses after using a magnum revolver, so she had a vague idea as to what to expect. That said, even though she had anticipated there to be some recoil, she was still taken by surprise by just how strong it was and how severely it effected her aim. Not a single bullet hit Miranda in the end, instead embedding themselves in the house behind her.
And the sound. Dear god, now Ruby truly realised why people wore ear muffs in firing ranges. Again, she had expected it be very loud, but she still couldn't believe just how loud it was. She hadn't felt this deafened since the time Brian took her to see Pendulum live.
Once she had gotten over how shocked she was by the gun's recoil and how loud a sound it made, she quickly realised that Miranda was in the middle of getting away. Not wishing to give up so easily, she smashed was little remained of the window in front of her with the butt of her gun, awkwardly vaulting her way through it onto the front concrete garden. After which she ran into the middle of the street, aimed her gun's sights at the fleeing Miranda, and opened fire once more. Whilst she was a little more prepared for the recoil this time, her aim was still skewered by her inexperience with the weapon, as a result hardly any of the bullets she fired went anywhere near Miranda's fleeing form.
It wasn't long until she had completely emptied her clip, and after searching her pockets Ruby realised too late that she hadn't taken any spare ammo down with her. Not that it mattered, Miranda was already long gone by that point. Her one chance to stop a confirmed killer, and she had completely blown it.
Needless to say, she was not the least bit happy about it.
Every time Ruby was about to pull the trigger, she would think of some way of putting it off. Was her aim steady enough? Had she made sure to turn the safety off? Was she even holding the gun correctly? She wasn't sure how many times she counted down 3-2-1, only to change her mind at the last minute as she found yet another excuse to delay the inevitable.
Why was she hesitating like this? It wasn't even that big a moral dilemma. Miranda had killed someone in cold-blood and would probably try to do it again, so it made sense to stop her now whilst she had the chance. If she didn't do something now, who else might end up being announced dead the following day at the hands of Miranda? What if Miranda went on to kill Brian? How would she feel knowing that she had failed to prevent the death of her friends because she didn't have the guts to take down a confirmed player when she had the perfect opportunity to do so?
Maybe it was because deep down, she knew that as soon as she pulled that trigger, there was definitely no going back. She would have to live with her decision for the rest of her life, which may or may not be very long depending on whether she survives this mess. Everyone would know that she had killed someone. Regardless of the circumstances, the fact remained that she would have chosen to kill someone. Someone who, just like her, was stuck in a truly shitty situation where the only way to escape with your morality intact was by dying.
Making matters worse was the fact that if she did kill Miranda, there was no way she could claim to have done so in self-defence. It would a premeditated decision to murder another living breathing human being. What would her family think of her if she did this? What would Regan think of her? Did she even know for certain that Miranda had killed Kaitlyn on purpose? She didn't recall Ami telling her the exact details of what happened, so from all she knew it could have been self-defence after all, or even a freak accident. These things did happen after all, so who was she to assume that Miranda had set out to murder Kaitlyn in cold blood? Could Ruby bring herself to commit such an atrocious action, one which went against everything she believed in?
Then again, could Ruby risk letting someone so potentially dangerous go, despite the fact that she knew for certain that Miranda had killed and could easily do so again?
Okay, for real this time. 5... 4.... 3..... 2........
...Ami?!? What the hell are you doing down here?!?
Ruby was caught off-guard by the sound of Ami's voice, her head wheeling around to see her standing not too far away. She quickly motioned her to stay quiet, a frustrated look on her face as she looked back outside. Thankfully, from the look of things Miranda hadn't heard her.
She had, however, decided to get up from looting Kaitlyn's body and begin heading elsewhere.
No! Shit, it's now or never...
On that note, without further ado, Ruby finally pulled the trigger.
As it happened, this was the first time she had ever fired a gun before. And sure enough, it was an experience she would never forget.
Ruby had expected there to be some recoil. She had seen those youtube videos of dumb redneck girls getting knocked on their asses after using a magnum revolver, so she had a vague idea as to what to expect. That said, even though she had anticipated there to be some recoil, she was still taken by surprise by just how strong it was and how severely it effected her aim. Not a single bullet hit Miranda in the end, instead embedding themselves in the house behind her.
And the sound. Dear god, now Ruby truly realised why people wore ear muffs in firing ranges. Again, she had expected it be very loud, but she still couldn't believe just how loud it was. She hadn't felt this deafened since the time Brian took her to see Pendulum live.
Once she had gotten over how shocked she was by the gun's recoil and how loud a sound it made, she quickly realised that Miranda was in the middle of getting away. Not wishing to give up so easily, she smashed was little remained of the window in front of her with the butt of her gun, awkwardly vaulting her way through it onto the front concrete garden. After which she ran into the middle of the street, aimed her gun's sights at the fleeing Miranda, and opened fire once more. Whilst she was a little more prepared for the recoil this time, her aim was still skewered by her inexperience with the weapon, as a result hardly any of the bullets she fired went anywhere near Miranda's fleeing form.
It wasn't long until she had completely emptied her clip, and after searching her pockets Ruby realised too late that she hadn't taken any spare ammo down with her. Not that it mattered, Miranda was already long gone by that point. Her one chance to stop a confirmed killer, and she had completely blown it.
Needless to say, she was not the least bit happy about it.
Ruby motioned to her. Ami had no idea what she was trying to say. Leave? Get down? Ami wanted to ask her, find out what she meant but Ruby turned back before she could say anything. The desire left her once Ruby went back to aiming. Surprisingly Ami had no energy to argue with her.
The deafening sounds sputtered inside of the house, making the floor shake. Ami did not react, not even to wince or cover her eyes. The gun was so loud that it did a one-eighty and became mute, as if someone turned the volume down on a television. There was sound, if one could call a loud buzzing in her ears 'sound', but it did not hurt her. Her legs felt weak though, and she braced the door frame with her hand in order to steady herself.
Ami could not see what Ruby was shooting at, but she had a pretty good idea. She could not see out the window reliably enough to make sure. She kept her eyes peeled on Ruby.
Ruby finished the clip and Ami felt a shiver, much too late. Ruby was searching her pockets. For bullets? Ami stood up straight and let her arm return to her side.
It also did not occur to Ami that she could lose her hearing. She didn't lose it, of course, but she was worried when Ruby emptied her clip and the buzzing still lingered. Her hand quickly covered her left ear, pressing the pinna down over the canal. Maybe it just needed to pop.
Ami studied her partner. Ruby did not utter a single word but her expression was evident; she was pissed, over what Ami wasn't sure. She could come up with many reasons, things that would honestly piss anyone off. Why Ami could not find such a rush of emotion in herself? After the surge she felt when she saw someone die... Perhaps it was all downhill from there.
Inwardly, Ami Flynn was a melting pot of emotions, turning into a sludge that was unrecognizable and left her feeling numb. There was a lot to digest, considering the circumstances, and could barely let it sit on her tongue let alone swallow. Outwardly, though, Ami Flynn appeared stoic, slightly pensive, like she had no clue what had just happened.
Her right hand clutched her left arm, her left hand dangling at her side. Her tawny eyes were still locked on Ruby. Thne she caught sight of another camera in the right hand corner. It made her hunch her shoulders and look away completely.
They sat in silence for a long moment before Ami found the courage to speak.
"... Did you get her?" She asked, expectant, without looking at Ruby.
An absolutely stupid question, Ami realized a few seconds later. Absolutely, utterly stupid.
The deafening sounds sputtered inside of the house, making the floor shake. Ami did not react, not even to wince or cover her eyes. The gun was so loud that it did a one-eighty and became mute, as if someone turned the volume down on a television. There was sound, if one could call a loud buzzing in her ears 'sound', but it did not hurt her. Her legs felt weak though, and she braced the door frame with her hand in order to steady herself.
Ami could not see what Ruby was shooting at, but she had a pretty good idea. She could not see out the window reliably enough to make sure. She kept her eyes peeled on Ruby.
Ruby finished the clip and Ami felt a shiver, much too late. Ruby was searching her pockets. For bullets? Ami stood up straight and let her arm return to her side.
It also did not occur to Ami that she could lose her hearing. She didn't lose it, of course, but she was worried when Ruby emptied her clip and the buzzing still lingered. Her hand quickly covered her left ear, pressing the pinna down over the canal. Maybe it just needed to pop.
Ami studied her partner. Ruby did not utter a single word but her expression was evident; she was pissed, over what Ami wasn't sure. She could come up with many reasons, things that would honestly piss anyone off. Why Ami could not find such a rush of emotion in herself? After the surge she felt when she saw someone die... Perhaps it was all downhill from there.
Inwardly, Ami Flynn was a melting pot of emotions, turning into a sludge that was unrecognizable and left her feeling numb. There was a lot to digest, considering the circumstances, and could barely let it sit on her tongue let alone swallow. Outwardly, though, Ami Flynn appeared stoic, slightly pensive, like she had no clue what had just happened.
Her right hand clutched her left arm, her left hand dangling at her side. Her tawny eyes were still locked on Ruby. Thne she caught sight of another camera in the right hand corner. It made her hunch her shoulders and look away completely.
They sat in silence for a long moment before Ami found the courage to speak.
"... Did you get her?" She asked, expectant, without looking at Ruby.
An absolutely stupid question, Ami realized a few seconds later. Absolutely, utterly stupid.
Not a single bullet had hit Miranda. Not one out of the fifty or so Ruby had fired in her direction.
She understood why of course. It had been the first time she had ever fired a gun full stop, let alone a fully-automatic submachine gun. The recoil plus her inexperience with the weapon meant that the chances of her actually hitting anything, particularly a moving target, had been extremely unlikely.
Even so, she still felt like she she had screwed up what may have been her only chance to do something productive on this island. She had the perfect shot! Miranda was just standing there, admiring her kill like some crazed poacher. God knows how many people could end up getting hurt or killed because she didn't act when she had the chance.
A part of Ruby wanted to scream obscenities and threats. Get back here and face me you cowardly bitch! When I find you, you'll wish you'd never woken up! That kind of thing. She resisted the temptation in the end though. What would be the point? Sure, it'd be stress relieving, but all she'd really achieve was make herself look like a raging idiot in front of the camera. Besides, if on the off chance Miranda did decide to return, she didn't have any means of defending herself anyway.
Ami asked if she had gotten her. Ruby slowly turned her head to face her, letting a few seconds pass before finally answering.
"No. No I did not. I fucking missed."
Ruby sighed and made her way over to the window, clumsily clambering through it. She could have asked Ami to unlock the front door of course, but at that particular moment in time she just didn't care.
At least, she didn't care until the moment she cut her hand on a small shard of glass that was still protruding from the windowpane.
"Argh, fucking CHRIST! Cut my fucking hand open, SHIT!"
She angrily kicked over a nearby wooden chair, clutching her cut hand with the unharmed one.
"God damnit! Fuck this island! Fuck this game!" she yelled, turning her head and pointing towards the nearest camera.
"Fuck. YOU!"
She understood why of course. It had been the first time she had ever fired a gun full stop, let alone a fully-automatic submachine gun. The recoil plus her inexperience with the weapon meant that the chances of her actually hitting anything, particularly a moving target, had been extremely unlikely.
Even so, she still felt like she she had screwed up what may have been her only chance to do something productive on this island. She had the perfect shot! Miranda was just standing there, admiring her kill like some crazed poacher. God knows how many people could end up getting hurt or killed because she didn't act when she had the chance.
A part of Ruby wanted to scream obscenities and threats. Get back here and face me you cowardly bitch! When I find you, you'll wish you'd never woken up! That kind of thing. She resisted the temptation in the end though. What would be the point? Sure, it'd be stress relieving, but all she'd really achieve was make herself look like a raging idiot in front of the camera. Besides, if on the off chance Miranda did decide to return, she didn't have any means of defending herself anyway.
Ami asked if she had gotten her. Ruby slowly turned her head to face her, letting a few seconds pass before finally answering.
"No. No I did not. I fucking missed."
Ruby sighed and made her way over to the window, clumsily clambering through it. She could have asked Ami to unlock the front door of course, but at that particular moment in time she just didn't care.
At least, she didn't care until the moment she cut her hand on a small shard of glass that was still protruding from the windowpane.
"Argh, fucking CHRIST! Cut my fucking hand open, SHIT!"
She angrily kicked over a nearby wooden chair, clutching her cut hand with the unharmed one.
"God damnit! Fuck this island! Fuck this game!" she yelled, turning her head and pointing towards the nearest camera.
"Fuck. YOU!"