Legoland Empire

[Whirlpool531*]

Jojo couldn't agree more with Saul's decision as he quickly followed the mascot's lead. As he quickened his step to match his partner's he found himself thankful that it hadn't taken a turn for the worse with Saul still being alive and well, unlike what had happened with Roman. I wish we could help that girl, but she could be the one who set up that trap and the last thing we need is a bullet in our heads for trying to be heroes. Theres a difference between being a savior and an idiot hero.

He noticed the other two approaching the warehouse but he quickly retrained his eyes on Saul as he pushed forward.

((Joss Joiner continued elsewhere.))

[MK Kilmarnock]

Nothing irritated Felicia quite like a guy who thought he knew it all, and Jason sure as hell fit that bill in every sense of the word. How demanding he seemed, grilling her like she was a suspect in some locker-theft at school, treating her as is he was somewhat above her. Mixed in with this pile of digust was a few threads of guilt for having felt such a way. Normally, she would never consider herself to be the kind of girl to bitch at the smaller grievances in life, aside from a griefer or two on a game server, or somebody clearly using hax for the umpteenth time. Given what the last few days had been like, though, her excuse for being a little snippy was more sound than PMS.

Irritation would have to be set aside for now to make way for bigger and more dire things. For instance, the door had made a peculiar snapping sound, prompting Jason to duck for cover. Panic overwhelmed her for a second or two, filling Felicia with the ice cold sensation that she might be living the last few moments of her life. Somebody was coming through the door, some evil pastiche of every evil evilness that dwelled in the evil pits on this island... bonus points if they spoke in a british accent, because that would just make them more... evil. A couple flashes of an imagination gone wild depicted her body in a less-than-flattering pool of blood, however, and gone was the glue that held Felicia in place.

Felicia shamelessly joined Jason in the cover that he had found, nervously clutching at the gun in her sweater pocket as well. She didn't even dare peek around the corner to see who had entered, given the old saying of 'if you can see them, they can see you'. And, to be perfectly honest, Felicia wasn't too keen on being seen by anybody who might have already flipped their lid, or anybody who was just a complete bitch by default.

If there's any comfort in this, it's that I probably won't end up being groped by Jason. Yep. I don't care what he says, he's totes gay.

Her mind offered her the line out of a dire need for some humor in her day, which had otherwise been devoid of anything pleasant. Same with the day before that, and the day before that. Maybe Rosa would come through that door, though, and make Felicia's day. Maybe, things would finally start to look up. And maybe Santa Claus would come bearing all the good little boys and girls on the island gifts in the form of bulletproof suits and bacon.

[decoy73]

((GMing of Quincy Jones approved by Killer_Moth))

As they approached the building ahead, both Quincy and Tiffany noticed the people there. Two of them had simply decided to leave, which was of no matter to either of them. Had they been able to see into the office, they would have noticed Jason Harris, whom neither Quincy or Tiffany had really talked to, hiding with Ma'afu Tuigmala - while Quincy had talked with him talked a couple times, but they'd never been close, while Tiffany had never even noticed him, as tall guys seemed to be the proverbial dime a dozen at Bayview. But there was one person whom they both noticed that, as she ran for cover, created some conflicting feeling in the pair.

Felicia Carmichael.

Quincy almost laughed out of relief and at the humor in the coincidence. Now he finds her, after giving up on it. Tiffany, on the other hand, was not as happy.

Great. Now the dumb bitch comes. If she even THINKS of making a move, she's going to get it. Tiffany wasn't going to have to worry about that at the moment, for the first move was made by Quincy.

"Felicia! Hey, Felicia!" Quincy practically laughed at the fact, as Tiffany just rolled her eyes.

[MK Kilmarnock]

Somebody had called her name. That meant somebody saw her, which meant she failed on her hide check. Even tucked away in her hiding spot that had been meant to hide her away from the intruding eyes, the girl squirmed in sheer anxiety at having been caught. 'Damn it... damn it, DAMN IT!', she repeated over and over in her head, her lips silently forming the same words while he struggled to keep her eyes open. Shuting them wouldn't help her out at all, that would just help whoever found her.

Who... found me? Who was that voice, again?

It had only been a matter of days since she heard that voice, but it felt like so long ago. Or maybe, thanks to the circumstances of typical high school drama, it actually had been longer than that. Regardless, there weren't a lot of people who spoke quite like Quincy Jones, the 'good ol' boy' boxer of Bayview. Felicia dated him just long enough to at least be able to pick him out of a crowd immediately by sight, sound, hell... maybe even by smell at this point.

The hand that clenched the gun in her pocket finally released its grip, letting the firearm rest in the pouch of her sweatshirt for now. Its considerable weight tugged at her shirt, never letting her forget about her killing potential. Something like what happened with Sebastian was never going to happen again, though. As long as Felicia could count on somebody to be around her, somebody strong like Aislyn had been, then maybe she could get by without killing ever again.

It went against all common sense, but something just kept telling her that she should show herself to Quincy. Felicia didn't even bother to look at Jason and his phony-ass tactics. He could shake his head 'no' all he wanted or tell her how this move was clearly stupid of her, but she didn't need anybody else to tell her that. Still, it was Quincy, and he was an okay guy. He would always be an okay guy, and this island couldn't change that, right?

"H-Hey, Quincy." It took Felicia that greeting and the will to force herself into view for her to realize the dark, contradicting truth to all of her hopes. Try as she might to block away the announcements from her mind, Quincy's name lept out at her. However, just because he had killed didn't make him evil. Misunderstandings, accidents, things like that happened, didn't they? She had killed, and she wasn't evil! ... Was she?

[decoy73]

Great.

This thought went through both Tiffany and Quincy simultaneously for different reasons. For Quincy, it was that he was happy at having finally found Felicia, and he could finally talk to her again, as all thoughts of his giving up on her made him feel a little ashamed. Tiffany, on the other hand, was pissed off at the fact that Felicia was back. Tiffany now had to take care of that problem as well as that of the other psychos. She would have stopped Quincy, but if she did it right now, she could lose him, and he had the rifle.

"I ... I can't believe I found you, I thought, I thought you were gone," Quincy wasn't much for words, especially now. He was starting to feel a little conflicted - on the one hand, Tiffany had stood by him for the past week, but he'd been looking for Felicia for the past week, and they had been dating before the game - the hiccup during prom was simply that: a hiccup, a small problem that could be smoothed over.

Great. Now I'm starting to feel bad about this. Why can't things be simple?

[MK Kilmarnock]

((Yes, I am sticking a knife up posting order's ass and then twisting it, because this really needs to get done. Sorry, folks.))

Felicia and Quincy. Quincy and Felicia. The sentence just didn't seem to really work or click anymore. They were an item before prom, but something had happened. Even to this very moment, Felicia could never explain what happened that night to anybody, especially not Quincy. It was bad enough that some deep, introspective part of herself feared that Quincy might yell at her if she told him, or perhaps he might beat her. He was a boxer after all, and boxers tended to solve their problems through violence. If she told Quincy just how she felt about Rosa, would he kill her?

That bullshit of 'people who I went to school with can't possibly be killers' had to stop. Had she not heard Quincy somewhere on those announcements? And Aislyn didn't just drop dead out of her own accord, another fun little detail the announcements confirmed, no matter how Felicia tried to drown them out. Only the indirect names might have been truly ignored and shoved away in the back of her mind: Jason this, Richard that, Maxwell 'I'm evil blam blam blam'. Some things, she only wished she could ignore and dehumanize, and this was one of them. Still, it's not like she had to immediately take the conversation in that direction, right?

Felicia shuffled her foot and put her hands behind her back, feeling as though she was back in front of those lockers at Bayview for just a moment. What would she say in response to something so... inane, even if delightfully so? It had to be cheery, but not forced. So, without thinking or forcing it, the girl loosened her lips and mentioned the first thing that came to mind. "Yeah, I guess I'm still here! Heh heh... I mean, where would I go? This bein' an island and all, and I'm not dead because I haven't been on the announcements..."

And immediately, Felicia Carmichael understood that she had just made a grave mistake in taking the conversation exactly where she didn't want it to go. The announcements... once again, she just couldn't stop thinking about the times Quincy had been mentioned. He had been on there more than once, and here he was still breathing, and that meant he had killed at least two people. Felicia became incredibly uneasy at this thought and shuffled her foot more, clearing her throat.

"U-Um... Quincy, we really need to talk..." Felicia began, her voice wavering. "I, um.. I'm trying not to judge, but you... well, did you..." She took a deep breath, struggling to continue. All of her strength was poured into rooting her on the spot. She could not run away, not from Quincy; she needed answers, and she needed them from the man himself.

"Why did you do it? Just... I don't hate you, but I need to know."

[decoy73]

"Yeah, I guess I'm still here! Heh heh... I mean, where would I go? This bein' an island and all, and I'm not dead because I haven't been on the announcements..."

"U-Um... Quincy, we really need to talk ... I, um.. I'm trying not to judge, but you... well, did you..." Felicia was nervous as hell, that much was true.

"Why did you do it? Just... I don't hate you, but I need to know." And that was it. The meat of the problem as to why Quincy had been nervous about meeting up with Felicia in the first place. Quincy gulped as he started.

"I was looking for you this entire time. FIrst this one guy ... he was with someone else and I thought he was going to attack, so I took him out. Then the other guy, he wouldn't talk so, I tried to convince him, but he wouldn't say anything and he tried to hit me, so I killed him." Quincy tried to phrase it as best as he could, but the thin layer of flop sweat indicated his lack of confidence in his own ability to convince Felicia that his kills were of no concern.

Tiffany, on the other hand, was relishing this. Felicia already didn't seem to like the fact that Quincy was a double killer. It seemed like all Tiffany had to do to get Felicia away was to simply let Quincy blunder on.

This is going to be nice.

[Fanatic*]

You could almost cut the tension in the air and Jason knew he wanted no part of it. They had seen Felicia but they obviously hadn't spotted him yet. He briefly considered skirting around the two and telling them to drop their weapons but crossed that idea off when Felicia spoke up. No, best to remain hidden for now and see how this plays out. Moving ever so slowly Jason made his way to a better vantage position. If shit hit the fan he could always find an exit and if everything worked out, well there was no harm in playing it safe.

Don't do anything even remotely risky before you find Maf and Nath. They at least deserve to know what happened. Jason would be damned before he let the two think either he or Brook were killers. He'd heard Brook's name on the announcements but he knew there was a reasonable explanation for it all. Once this was resolved he would find Maf and Nathan and then go back for Brook. They were going to get out of this.

For sure.

[MK Kilmarnock]

Perhaps it was a terrible thing to say, but Felicia always felt like there was something haunting her on the island from the get-go. If only this unshakable, intangible concept that plagued her from the beginning had been the only affliction, then maybe she would have been able to handle the overall situation better. There was no way of knowing whether or not having it buried under the pile of anguish and deaths of many of her friends would have been more or less destructive without it actually having happened, but plenty of things had happened to distract her from what essentially amounted to a nagging feeling.

But now, Felicia knew just what that nagging feeling was, and the culprit of her haunting truly was a ghost from the past: that of her past relationship with Quincy. In their last days of high school before the ill-fated trip, she had done her best to avoid the boy and, with him, avoid any sticky or impossible questions that would have been thrust her way. The island had done nothing to change the status quo, at least as far as they had been concerned. So, Quincy had been looking for her this entire time, hoping to solve the issue no doubt.

Right about this time was where the feeling of extreme nausea began to kick in. As romantic as Quincy's spiel had been, Felicia's thoughts began to pick up on something. Quincy had been looking all over and, according to him, that first kill had been self defense. She could see that, she had been in positions like that. No... but no, something in how Quincy said it just didn't... sit well.

"I thought he was going to attack, so I took him out."

So matter-of-fact. So non-chalant. Quincy spoke of killing somebody that he thought might be a threat as though he had cheated on a math test in order to pass a class. Here he was, handling it so... handling it so goddamn professionally that she wasn't sure which direction she wanted to run in. If she wanted to run away from Quincy, it would either be in fear or to get her bearings. If she wanted to run towards him, it was out of rage or out of forgiveness, but she knew neither the direction nor the intent. Of course, things had to get worse. They always had to get worse, because this was Felicia Carmichael; this was the life she had been dealt in the cards. If God existed, then he was playing the sickest practical joke in deity history.

"Then the other guy, he wouldn't talk so, I tried to convince him, but he wouldn't say anything and he tried to hit me, so I killed him."

What would Quincy be trying to make this 'other guy' talk about? That would be a silly thing to ask, seeing as he already answered that question when Felicia first met with him. As he already said, he was looking for her, needing to find her that bad, just so goddamn badly, that he might have to break a couple necks doing so. Or maybe he shot them? Bludgeoned them to death? Felicia wasn't sure, and that left her mind to do terrible things with her soul, imagining what she didn't want to see.

"No... no, stop!" Felicia gagged, shaking her head to try and ward off the sickness welling up inside. "This isn't a stupid game, Quincy! You can't just... just kill off the people we went to school with to find me! Why did you want to find me so bad!?" Felicia raised her voice without meaning to, perhaps in response to her chest tearing itself apart. It hurt her to hurt Quincy, but it hurt her that she had allowed him to hurt her all the same. Or maybe it was hurting him that she was hurting. Or maybe they were all hurting. She was losing the ability to tell the difference between happiness and pain at this point.

[decoy73]

"No... no, stop! This isn't a stupid game, Quincy! You can't just... just kill off the people we went to school with to find me! Why did you want to find me so bad!?"

Quincy was stumped. He'd spent all this time trying to find her, and now, for what? So she could push him away?

"But ... but I love you. That's why I did all this. I was worried that if ... if I let them go, they could kill you."

Quincy was, needless to say, unable to put how he felt into words. He had been so scared, so suspicious, that he had played into the idea of having to cut through the competition. It had never occurred to him that things might have gone better if he had simply asked nicely.

Tiffany just listened to Felicia and Quincy and laughed. This was just too funny. Felicia was complaining about Quincy killing after she had killed somebody? That was rich.

"Okay, get off your fucking high horse, Felicia. I heard the announcements as well as you did, and you're just as guilty as him. Stupid hypocrite."

It took about two seconds for Tiffany to realize that she shouldn't have said any of that out loud.

[MK Kilmarnock]

'I love you'. Three simple words that can make or break your day, raise you up or drop you on the ground, invade your ribcage and stomp on your heart until it can no longer beat. Felicia's heart may still have been beating, but not joyfully, not warmly. It was just an unfortunate fact of life that as much as Quincy might have loved her, she just didn't love him back. Maybe she never had, but at least she thought she loved him back then before he transformed into something that she couldn't see. Quincy had only changed on the inside, still trying to play up some casualness to the fact they had found each other on a trail of blood. Couldn't he see that things would never be the same? Their petty high school romance was over. Why couldn't he see that?

Even these thoughts would not be able to sit on Felicia's mind in relative peace, because Tiffany was there. Maybe if that other girl had taken her smug fucking face and jumped off of a cliff somewhere, then just possibly, there could be a kind word said to Quincy that would pull him off of his sanguine road and back to the person he had once been. Or had he truly changed, and Felicia was just seeing things that weren't there? She never considered to think that her soul might be the blind one, unable to see what might lay within herself. So many things became unsure, if only because a girl of her age and background shouldn't have had to deal with anything this heavy. No, not yet. The worst of life was supposed to be viewed through a courtroom dossier, never directly witnessed.

In the heavily paraphrased words of a wrinkly green muppet that Felicia always held dear, irritation was about to lead to anger, and anger would lead to hate. Tiffany... only now had Felicia really paid attention to her presence with any deal of emotions or thought beyond just how aggravating she seemed to be at the current moment. She was an acquaintance to Felicia and nothing more, much like many of the girlier girls at school. They had never had any problems before, which made the hostility that seemed to be radiating off of her all the more confusing. But such aggression materialized in the form of Tiffany opening her mouth, saying things that everybody likely wished had never been said.

"Okay, get off your fucking high horse, Felicia. I heard the announcements as well as you did, and you're just as guilty as him. Stupid hypocrite."

The dark skinned girl dropped her head in shock. The tension built up behind her eyeballs; it felt like a tremendous pressure was continuously growing and growing in her head, ready to explode. Anytime she thought of something to say, Sebastian's dead body fell on top of her. Kayla's neck exploded into a spray of red, Johnny ran himself onto the sword once more. The shoved the thought aside, tried to keep thinking, to cope with what happened, but Sebastian fell on her, Kayla's throat tore open, Johnny slumped to the ground. Over and over and over and over. Samaya. Aislyn. Everybody around her just kept dying. There was nothing Felicia could say to that.

So she settled for pulling out Samaya's gun, and aiming it right at the slut who dared bring that all back.

"I... h.... ah... I..." Felicia breathed in rasping, white-knuckled gasps. "You don't know shit... you don't... know anything I've been through, you. Fucking. Cunt!" She reacted in harshly unsettled surprise to her own words, her eyes welling up in warning to tears that might spill over any moment. Her muscles did not react well to the stress; the gun just couldn't stay still, held in that one hand and shaking feverishly. Her legs locked up and began to tremble to the point where Felicia felt she might faint, but her focused rage meant to keep her concious by any means. "For the last three days... maybe four... I lost count, I don't give a shit anymore, I... a... augh, you..." She sniffed at some snot and tried to push forward. "All of my friends are dying. I've watched some die, I've woken up... and they're dead beside me... I've found their fucking corpses floating in the ocean! Have you done that? Have you!?"

The most primal parts of Felicia wanted to throw herself to the ground and kick, scream, and cry in an animalistic tantrum until her entire body was sore, but she resisted. Likewise, she resisted mentioning Sebastian and that event once more. She didn't have to explain herself, not to Tiffany. Not right now. No, right now, she needed to leave. Felicia raised the revolver to the air, pulling the trigger once. The results of this action sent a shockwave through her body and elicited a short, painful cry... and that was because the gun failed to fire. What this could mean for her was an endless flurry of possibilities, many of which involved her being struck down. Would Quincy kill her for her insolence? Would Tiffany laugh at her? Felicia's only protector, the gun in her hands, had decided to abandon her in her time of need, but she still needed something to hold on to, to cling to. It was only a second's delay, but Felicia brought the gun back down and pointed it at Tiffany, as fruitless as it would seem.

Then, with a bang, the world broke apart.

[decoy73]

The look on Felicia's face said it all. Tiffany had overstepped her boundaries on this one. She'd done it before, with Bridget Connolly. Of course, that incident had been at Bayview, where she'd gotten slapped across the face like she was just some whore. All that required were some fake tears to the librarian and a new layer of makeup to cover the red mark on her face. This wasn't such a forgiving set of circumstances, given that Felicia decided to pull out a gun and aim it directly at Tiffany.

"I... h.... ah... I... You don't know shit... you don't... know anything I've been through, you. Fucking. Cunt! For the last three days... maybe four... I lost count, I don't give a shit anymore, I... a... augh, you..." She sniffed at some snot and tried to push forward. "All of my friends are dying. I've watched some die, I've woken up... and they're dead beside me... I've found their fucking corpses floating in the ocean! Have you done that? Have you!?" As Quincy stared at Tiffany, simply offended at the statement, his eyes went back to Felicia as she pointed the gun to the ceiling and

click

Nothing happened, even as Quincy and Tiffany flinched. It was as if the universe had decided to give Tiffany a break as she sighed in relief while Felicia pointed the gun back to Tiffany.

What is she going to do with that now? It's not like

BANG

What Tiffany and Quincy weren't aware of was that a few of the rounds set aside for the SOTF program hadn't been stored properly. The result was a phenomenon commonly referred to as "hangfire," where the primer would smolder into a delayed ignition. Normally, the delay is so short that it is assumed that everything worked properly, but in this event, the ignition had taken about five or six seconds, enough time for Tiffany to falsely believe that she was completely safe before the gun discharged directly into her heart.

If there was any comfort for Tiffany, it was that she neither heard nor felt the bullet penetrate, as the shot killed her instantaneously as both Quincy and Felicia stood there with shocked expressions on their faces, and she fell lifelessly to the floor, having never had any idea of what had happened, or that there was no way she could talk her way out of this situation.

FEMALE STUDENT #50 - TIFFANY CHANDERS: ELIMINATED
115 STUDENTS REMAIN

[GregTheAnti-Viking*]

Nathan nodded gently and pushed himself up. So that was it, they were going to confront their friend. It was easier to say they were going to than to actually do it. He took in a deep breath and brought the pistol up to his chest. He had still not loaded anything into it. For the entire week the gun's chamber remained empty. He wouldn't dare reach into his bag for the ammo. But what was he going to do if Jason...

He closed his eyes and breathed in. Geoffrey would know how to do this. His mom and dad had full faith in what he had done all throughout high school. He was the wonderkid that could do no wrong. He's the kid that could run 11.0 seconds in the 100 metre dash after all. He could probably negotiate his way out of a gun fight too.

He'd be able to trust Jason...but he'd keep his distance. Until he found out what had happened.

Nathan opened his eyes and massaged the pockets that had developed under his eyes. That's what he'd have to do. Any other ideas that Nathan had were doomed to failure after all.

"Alright then...lets do this..."

Nathan inched along the wall to the door, to avoid being seen. If Jason really was a killer, then he didn't want to get shot at before he even tried. His arm stretched to the door and he touched the handle. He started to fumble with it when he heard a noise. Multiple noises, coming from beyond the door. It wasn't the voice of Jason. It was the voices of...Felicia Charmichael, Quincy Jones and...someone else he just couldn't remember.

His arms locked up. He had forgotten about the other voices. The situation had changed now. What was he supposed to do? It wasn't just opening up the door and finding Jason anymore. What was he supposed to do?

Geoffrey...he would keep going...wouldn't he?

He quickly shifted his gaze back to Maf and put a free hand to his lips. They had to be quiet now. They could be heard if they said anything now.

Nathan's hand shifted around the doorknob and a soft click could be heard. Nathan winced but gently opened it inwards, leaving only a crack open so that they could survey the scene.

When he looked out through the three inches of doorway, he saw nothing. There were only boxes, did Jason leave? He couldn't remember hearing him say anything. Then again he wasn't paying attention to the white noise that was everyone else. He was busy doing mental cartwheels about how to get out of here and find the Aussie.

"-ating in the ocean! Have you done that? Have you!?"

Nathan opened the door a few more inches, he was trying to see where it was coming from. He had to know if he and Maf could get out of here without being spotted.

He wasn't prepared for it. He wasn't prepared for the bang. When he did hear it though, Nathan's pulled back from the door, causing it to swing completely open. Nathan stepped into the large desk, sending him crashing down to the door.

"Jesus Christ!"

As fast as he had spewed his outburst, Nathan had covered up his mouth as fast as possible. He tried to use his fingers as a barrier from any more noise coming out, but there wasn't anything he could do now. He just screwed up. He gave away their position.

They were both dead...and it was all going to be his fault.

[Killer_Moth*]

What the fuck had just happened? Quince had spent the last few minutes as if in a dream, as if he hadn't been in control of his own actions. Felicia was here. That changed everything.

He was blushing and stammering like a kid of 12, doing his best to explain what he'd done. She would never understand what had really been going on, the loss of control he'd experienced, the need to take that control back. How killing others gave him the control that he needed. Instead, he tried to connect with her on a level she would understand. That he did it for love. Chicks always dug that stuff.

But it didn't work that way at all. Tiffany tried to protect him (hadn't he supposed to be protecting her?), and it ended up in the two most important girls on this island insulting each other. Sooner or later it would all end in tears. There had to be something he could do to stop that.

Felicia was losing it, and fast. His girl had been through a lot. Probably more than he had. Quince hadn't really experienced any loss yet. Not people he'd seen die except those two fuckers who deserved it. He'd been attacked, he'd dealt with danger, but in many ways he'd been lucky.

The gunshot was unexpected. As soon as he heard it discharge, he brought the rifle into a ready position. But he didn't know where to aim it. It took a few seconds for him to register just what had happened. The gun in 'Licia's hand. The smoking barrel pointing at Tiff. The blood pooling on Tiff's chest as she fell to the floor.

No.

This wasn't happening.

Just when he had everybody sorted out in his head. When he'd been getting somewhere with Tiff, when he had admitted to himself that he was over Felicia. His ex had not just killed his girl in front of him.

"What the fuck did you do, 'Licia?" The question seemed pointless, but it game him time to think. He crouched down, next to Tiff, trying to ignore the fact that she was obviously beyond help now. He just needed to do something for her. Make her comfortable. She deserved more than that useless gesture, but it was all he had.

No. Not all. 'Licia had taken the control away from him again. And he could take it back. He had the bigger gun, the longer reach, and…

He spun round at the crash, a door swinging open. There, there was something he could deal with. He fired a round into the doorway, more as a warning than anything else. Tiff was dead, and now nothing mattered. But somebody would have to pay.

[MK Kilmarnock]

When Tiffany fell, a chain tied between her and Felicia tugged at her own soul. The gun in her hand had betrayed her. No, it had betrayed them both. It refused to send out a warning, showing Tiffany the same malice, the same lack of sympathy that the island showed to everybody else. Rather than a warning, it needed to kill; somebody, something here had decided that one of the children in the warehouse had to die, that a life had to end. Right now, that life was Tiffany's, and Felicia began to feel that her own was not very far behind. This wasn't like with Sebastian, where only a pull of the trigger could save her. Tiffany had been killed in cold blood, accident or not.

At least, Felicia prayed it was an accident, and that she hadn't subconciously willed the gun downward before firing. Her mind clouded up with that thought and similarly trained others, each praising her as a survivalist or condemning her as a murderer. Had she served herself and done the right thing, or should she now be slain like a dog much in the same fashion she wanted to do to Kimberly? She couldn't undo any of this, so there was no running from the consequences, whatever they might be.

"What the fuck did you do, 'Licia?" Quincy had asked. She had no answer for that. She couldn't even muster the will to scream 'I don't know' at the top of her lungs like she wanted to. No hilarious little mental stories or images could ever come to her as an escape, as she didn't deserve such an escape from the harsh reality of what she had done. Quincy, in his disbelief at her actions, forced her to become wary of everybody watching her. Not just the people in the warehouse, but everybody watching on the cameras had seen her kill Tiffany. There was no running from that.

Felicia could only back up like the criminal she was, the gun hanging from her limp hand. The metal, warm to the touch from her tight grip, disgusted her. She would have loved for nothing more than to rid herself of it, toss it aside and separate herself from what she had done. And yet she clung onto it, holding her self preservation above regret for her sins. It disgusted her, but she needed it to live. If she needed this gun to survive, to protect herself from the lashing out at her in punishment... this brought forward the question: 'Do I really want to live?'

The gun fell from Felicia's hand and clattered to the cold floor of the warehouse. She looked at nothing, saw nothing, and only felt despair as she stumbled back a few more steps and fell down to her knees, tucking her head low and shivering. Then Felicia Carmichael waited for Quincy Jones to kill her.