So, How Was Your Day?
So, How Was Your Day?
((Juhan Levandi continues from Tell No Tales))
Juhan spent the night trudging through the streets, tears rolling down the cheeks. Takeshi had caught up with him and had brought the flashlight with him, as well. It was nice, but it was cold comfort and only helped a little. It was becoming hard to breath, and sobs would escape from his throat periodically. He was lost in this whirlpool of guilt and regret and anger, at himself and at Takeshi and at Gavin and at Ian and Bella and at the terrorists and at everyone else. And it was becoming more and more tempting by the second to just curl up in a corner of the room and stay there for the rest of his days. And maybe he'd do that, because there was nothing to work for anymore. But first, the hotel. He had one last thing to do, and that was to meet up with Ian and Bella, to get the words out, and to say that it was all over. To be honest, that would be the hardest thing to do, and among all his worries, that was what stuck out the most. He imagined a million different scenarios for what would happen, and none of them were good.
Only one word had been said by Juhan during the journey, and that was 'Sorry'. It wouldn't suffice for leaving Takeshi behind, for not even considering how he felt, for the fact that they were utterly screwed, and that they couldn't even have done anything about it, but it was all he could get out. He was at his breaking point, and he wasn't sure if he'd make it through the meeting with Ian and Bella.
By the time they arrived at the eight-story building, it was late morning, and the speakers had crackled already and announced their list of those that were gone. Why Gavin's group hadn't been mentioned, he didn't know, but that was the least of his problems for now.
---
In the end, the choice for where they'd wait came down to which room had the least corpses.
They were greeted by the sight of three corpses in the lobby, two of them heavily mutilated. Juhan forced himself to swallow the chyme that had come up from his throat, and looked down at the floor, careful not to step on any of the corpses. He entered the pool area, where more bodies lay, including one slowly rotting away in the pool outside. It took a great amount of willpower to get him to move his feet back through the lobby to the lounge, which only had two bodies. One of them was decapitated, and the other had shrapnel piercing his chest. He found some fingers a few meters over, past the bar. He recognized most of the corpses, but decided not to think about the fact. He was having a hard enough time with worrying about the meeting, he didn't need to think about that.
A quick look around the room let Juhan notice two different things. There were some donuts on the floor, next to an overturned table. There was also a spear on the stage. Its upper half was coated with dried blood. If he remembered correctly, the donut was a prize for the 'best killer'.
Not now. Maybe something would change Juhan's mind on the matter later on, but knowing its history, and the fact that it was probably used one of his acquaintances was enough to convince him that he'd have no use for this spear. Besides, he didn't plan on playing any time soon. He had so much on his shoulders already. He didn't need to have that much more guilt.
What he'd do after this, he didn't know. Maybe he'd see Maynard and Garrett. They were probably, along with his group, the only people he had left. All the others had made their choice. Or maybe he'd kill himself. The mere fact that he was thinking of suicide, and even considering how he should do it was depressing, to put it lightly. But what else could he do? He wouldn't let anyone have him, and he didn't want to be around when his friends inevitably went away. It was selfish, yes, but Juhan was a weak person, and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to take it if he found out one more of his friends died. The reality of the entire situation had come crashing down upon him at the beach. Well, it had crashed down upon him as soon as he woke up in that haunted house, but no one had been dead yet at that moment, and the next couple of days promised him that he'd be able to save some of his classmates. Now, that was gone, and he was left to consider the fact that he'd be helpless to stop their deaths. He could postpone it, but that would only last for a few days.
He lay down on the stage, staring at the ceiling, away from all the carnage and the world of SOTF for a short while. Without looking at Takeshi, Juhan addressed him.
"Hey, could you keep guard? Like, wake me up when they're here already. Oh, also, thanks for everything. Forgot to tell you that earlier."
He closed his eyes and tried to escape again, this time for only a few hours.
Juhan spent the night trudging through the streets, tears rolling down the cheeks. Takeshi had caught up with him and had brought the flashlight with him, as well. It was nice, but it was cold comfort and only helped a little. It was becoming hard to breath, and sobs would escape from his throat periodically. He was lost in this whirlpool of guilt and regret and anger, at himself and at Takeshi and at Gavin and at Ian and Bella and at the terrorists and at everyone else. And it was becoming more and more tempting by the second to just curl up in a corner of the room and stay there for the rest of his days. And maybe he'd do that, because there was nothing to work for anymore. But first, the hotel. He had one last thing to do, and that was to meet up with Ian and Bella, to get the words out, and to say that it was all over. To be honest, that would be the hardest thing to do, and among all his worries, that was what stuck out the most. He imagined a million different scenarios for what would happen, and none of them were good.
Only one word had been said by Juhan during the journey, and that was 'Sorry'. It wouldn't suffice for leaving Takeshi behind, for not even considering how he felt, for the fact that they were utterly screwed, and that they couldn't even have done anything about it, but it was all he could get out. He was at his breaking point, and he wasn't sure if he'd make it through the meeting with Ian and Bella.
By the time they arrived at the eight-story building, it was late morning, and the speakers had crackled already and announced their list of those that were gone. Why Gavin's group hadn't been mentioned, he didn't know, but that was the least of his problems for now.
---
In the end, the choice for where they'd wait came down to which room had the least corpses.
They were greeted by the sight of three corpses in the lobby, two of them heavily mutilated. Juhan forced himself to swallow the chyme that had come up from his throat, and looked down at the floor, careful not to step on any of the corpses. He entered the pool area, where more bodies lay, including one slowly rotting away in the pool outside. It took a great amount of willpower to get him to move his feet back through the lobby to the lounge, which only had two bodies. One of them was decapitated, and the other had shrapnel piercing his chest. He found some fingers a few meters over, past the bar. He recognized most of the corpses, but decided not to think about the fact. He was having a hard enough time with worrying about the meeting, he didn't need to think about that.
A quick look around the room let Juhan notice two different things. There were some donuts on the floor, next to an overturned table. There was also a spear on the stage. Its upper half was coated with dried blood. If he remembered correctly, the donut was a prize for the 'best killer'.
Not now. Maybe something would change Juhan's mind on the matter later on, but knowing its history, and the fact that it was probably used one of his acquaintances was enough to convince him that he'd have no use for this spear. Besides, he didn't plan on playing any time soon. He had so much on his shoulders already. He didn't need to have that much more guilt.
What he'd do after this, he didn't know. Maybe he'd see Maynard and Garrett. They were probably, along with his group, the only people he had left. All the others had made their choice. Or maybe he'd kill himself. The mere fact that he was thinking of suicide, and even considering how he should do it was depressing, to put it lightly. But what else could he do? He wouldn't let anyone have him, and he didn't want to be around when his friends inevitably went away. It was selfish, yes, but Juhan was a weak person, and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to take it if he found out one more of his friends died. The reality of the entire situation had come crashing down upon him at the beach. Well, it had crashed down upon him as soon as he woke up in that haunted house, but no one had been dead yet at that moment, and the next couple of days promised him that he'd be able to save some of his classmates. Now, that was gone, and he was left to consider the fact that he'd be helpless to stop their deaths. He could postpone it, but that would only last for a few days.
He lay down on the stage, staring at the ceiling, away from all the carnage and the world of SOTF for a short while. Without looking at Takeshi, Juhan addressed him.
"Hey, could you keep guard? Like, wake me up when they're here already. Oh, also, thanks for everything. Forgot to tell you that earlier."
He closed his eyes and tried to escape again, this time for only a few hours.
((Takeshi Yoshikawa continued from Tell No Tales))
It was over. The escape team had failed, and they had paid for it. Takeshi found himself wondering how long after they left that his allies had gotten their collars blown. He wondered what their captors would say when they announced their deaths. He knew they'd all be watched more closely. Maybe they'd been suspected the entire time, but allowed to progress with it. Maybe they were just being toyed with the entire time.
Sorry...it's okay? No it isn't. Nothing is okay. Everybody is dead. Everybody is going to die. Even the winner of this damn game isn't going to be able to have a normal life after this. What is the point? That humans live short, brutal, pointless lives? Thanks for telling us what we already knew.
"I understand," was all Takeshi could say. He looked around the room, it was pretty clear that there had been a pretty serious fight around here. He couldn't remember any locations being given outside the danger zones, and he didn't recognize the bodies he'd seen. Not that he was trying very hard. As he continued to survey the room he heard Juhan's voice again.
"Yeah. Get some sleep. It's been a rough few days."
What's this? Takeshi thought as he looked at the stage. He walked over and started to examine the things he found. Forgotten doughnuts and a pretty nice spear. It'd been used, but he wasn't sure how recently. He was sure the doughnuts were dried out and not worth the effort, but the spear could be useful. He collected the spear and walked away from the stage. He experimented with different ways to grip it, trying to get a feel for it. He made a thrust at the air. It felt strange, but not as much so as he was expecting.
Am I really thinking about using this thing?
It was over. The escape team had failed, and they had paid for it. Takeshi found himself wondering how long after they left that his allies had gotten their collars blown. He wondered what their captors would say when they announced their deaths. He knew they'd all be watched more closely. Maybe they'd been suspected the entire time, but allowed to progress with it. Maybe they were just being toyed with the entire time.
Sorry...it's okay? No it isn't. Nothing is okay. Everybody is dead. Everybody is going to die. Even the winner of this damn game isn't going to be able to have a normal life after this. What is the point? That humans live short, brutal, pointless lives? Thanks for telling us what we already knew.
"I understand," was all Takeshi could say. He looked around the room, it was pretty clear that there had been a pretty serious fight around here. He couldn't remember any locations being given outside the danger zones, and he didn't recognize the bodies he'd seen. Not that he was trying very hard. As he continued to survey the room he heard Juhan's voice again.
"Yeah. Get some sleep. It's been a rough few days."
What's this? Takeshi thought as he looked at the stage. He walked over and started to examine the things he found. Forgotten doughnuts and a pretty nice spear. It'd been used, but he wasn't sure how recently. He was sure the doughnuts were dried out and not worth the effort, but the spear could be useful. He collected the spear and walked away from the stage. He experimented with different ways to grip it, trying to get a feel for it. He made a thrust at the air. It felt strange, but not as much so as he was expecting.
Am I really thinking about using this thing?
- VysePresident
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((Ian Williams continued from: Mata Leao))
It was funny how quiet things became, when one was all alone, when grey clouds hung overhead and a restless breeze flew by, and the silence became oppressive, demanding a respect that only served to let the now familiar recriminations echo all the louder.
Except, for once, thoughts were muted as Ian limped down the hotel's parking lot, with only the gentle scrapping of his shovel and slow, painful breaths to break that stillness. Pain was a buffer, the now familiar numbness a shield against an overwhelming sea of emotions that he couldn't begin to face, not yet. He was tired, he felt sick, he hurt all over and could barely stand, leaning against the shovel for little support it offered him, now that his world was shaken and shattered.
He'd never felt so helpless in his life.
The air seemed to tense with the sound of his passing, and his eyes wandered almost furtively across the building looming over him. There was something vaguely menacing about the shadows hanging from the hotel, something that reflected and magnified the fear that came when other thoughts faded. Any one of them could be hiding a killer, all of them held traces of the terror and regrets that haunted him, and those shadows seemed almost alive in that moment, stretching out, threatening to engulf him.
Will alone kept the shadows at bay, and will alone kept him walking, clinging even more tightly to the shovel and to the memory of a moment on the beach as he took each painful step in turn. Somewhere along the way, he'd stopped wondering what he was going to tell Juhan and Takeshi, he'd given up trying to find answers to questions he could barely begin to understand himself. All he knew was that he needed them, needed something to hold him together, and after that, he didn't know.
He didn't know much of anything, anymore.
One step more, then another. Just a few steps left to the door, just a single second of hesitation, a small sigh, and he walked in.
He hadn't counted on the bodies lying on the floor.
For a moment, he stood there, eyes searching frantically over the wreckage, touching on the corpses just long enough to confirm that they weren't his friends. He was almost panicking now. The others had to be alright, he hadn't even considered that they wouldn't be, and he didn't know what he'd do, if things were otherwise.
He couldn't lose anyone else, not again. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold himself together.
A faint sound turned his attention further down, and then he was walking, slowly, turning carefully around the corner, shovel held ready as the shadows seemed to stretch out once again. His heart seemed to leap into his throat when he saw the figure holding a spear, and his shovel came up slightly before recognition finally hit.
Takeshi. A friend. And Juhan was sitting in the corner.
"Takeshi? Juhan? What happened?"
His voice cracked and stuck in his throat, as the numbness finally broke with the relief that washed over him, and suddenly, the shovel was the only thing holding him up.
Juhan's thoughts were already becoming disjointed, his mind wandering off into worlds that were probably much better than this. He was almost sleeping when the sounds of metal being dragged on concrete resounded through the lounge. He lurched upwards, gasping, thinking for a second that he woke up from a nightmare. Again, he was being too optimistic, as he realized that he actually had heard it.
There were two possibilities. Either some stranger was entering the room with some sort of weapon, or Ian and Bella were coming. Juhan wasn't sure which one was worse.
He immediately recognized Ian's face as he appeared in the doorway. Juhan was immediately flooded with relief, worry and dread. He was alive, but not without a scratch. Ian looked liked he was wincing in pain, so Juhan slowed down his pace. There were slight bruises on his face, his shirt was ripped, and he was leaning on this shovel. Something had happened. Juhan was about to ask what happened when Ian did the exact same thing.
Out of all the questions Ian could've asked, why that? Why not 'How are you' or 'Are you guys fine'? It was a perfectly innocent question, and at any other time, it would've been acceptable, but now, it held answers that Juhan simply wasn't ready to say. His knees were shaking now as the relief completely disappeared and was replaced by anxiety. Was now the right time to say it? Would there ever be a proper time to say it?
Not now. He couldn't say it yet. He had to stall, just get a few more seconds to prepare himself for what would happen. Anything would work, anything but answering.
"Wait, wait, what- what happened to you?"
As soon as the words left his mouth, Juhan realized something was wrong. It was silent. There were no shoes clacking on the floor or pants. Nothing but the rain, which had just started coming down. Something was missing.
"And where's Bella?"
There were two possibilities. Either some stranger was entering the room with some sort of weapon, or Ian and Bella were coming. Juhan wasn't sure which one was worse.
He immediately recognized Ian's face as he appeared in the doorway. Juhan was immediately flooded with relief, worry and dread. He was alive, but not without a scratch. Ian looked liked he was wincing in pain, so Juhan slowed down his pace. There were slight bruises on his face, his shirt was ripped, and he was leaning on this shovel. Something had happened. Juhan was about to ask what happened when Ian did the exact same thing.
Out of all the questions Ian could've asked, why that? Why not 'How are you' or 'Are you guys fine'? It was a perfectly innocent question, and at any other time, it would've been acceptable, but now, it held answers that Juhan simply wasn't ready to say. His knees were shaking now as the relief completely disappeared and was replaced by anxiety. Was now the right time to say it? Would there ever be a proper time to say it?
Not now. He couldn't say it yet. He had to stall, just get a few more seconds to prepare himself for what would happen. Anything would work, anything but answering.
"Wait, wait, what- what happened to you?"
As soon as the words left his mouth, Juhan realized something was wrong. It was silent. There were no shoes clacking on the floor or pants. Nothing but the rain, which had just started coming down. Something was missing.
"And where's Bella?"
I guess he came after all. Maybe I should have had more faith. Then again, it hardly seems to matter at this point. We've failed, and it looks like he might just topple over on his own.
"They're gone, Ian. Everybody's gone."
Takeshi made his way over to what seemed to be a bar and had a look around. Takeshi noticed that the dust seemed disturbed and reasoned that some of his classmates must have raided the bar. Several bottles of spirits still remained however. He lifted one from its resting place and stared at it. The liquid inside was clear, but the label seemed too worn to read. Not that Takeshi drank at all, so even if he knew what was inside the bottle it would have little meaning to him.
"You look like hell man," Takeshi said as he set the bottle back down on the bar.
"They're gone, Ian. Everybody's gone."
Takeshi made his way over to what seemed to be a bar and had a look around. Takeshi noticed that the dust seemed disturbed and reasoned that some of his classmates must have raided the bar. Several bottles of spirits still remained however. He lifted one from its resting place and stared at it. The liquid inside was clear, but the label seemed too worn to read. Not that Takeshi drank at all, so even if he knew what was inside the bottle it would have little meaning to him.
"You look like hell man," Takeshi said as he set the bottle back down on the bar.
- VysePresident
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"No, no, it's nothing, I'm fine."
Ian didn't mean to lie, but the words came out before he'd thought them through, a reflexive reassurance to buy himself some time. This wasn't right, it wasn't what he wanted. They were his friends, and he knew he owed them an answer, but the words simply wouldn't come. It was cowardly, it wasn't right, but he was scared, and he didn't know how he could explain things to them. There weren't any answers, just a mess of jumbled facts, and words seemed so pitiful and inadequate.
Heck with it. They were his friends. Not like they'd just, say, walk away or anything, right? Not like that ever happened.
"Bella's gone."
There it was, out in the open. No blame, no excuses, just a simple truth that he still couldn't quite grasp. It would have been easy to stop there, to wait out the storm and hope they'd understand, but he couldn't leave it hanging like that.
He needed them to understand.
"We were waiting out the rain in a building near the golf field, I...I was taking care of some stuff, and when I came back, she was gone."
His breathing was getting ragged now. The dam he'd built to hold his emotions back was finally collapsing, and he could feel them rushing in, snatching at the last few shreds of control remaining to him. Now he couldn't stop, he had to keep going, or else they'd wash him away.
"She left on her own. Her pack was gone, and I've have heard if there'd been struggle. I still don't know why."
His breath seemed to stick in his throat for a moment, and he almost choked on the next two words.
"I'm sorry."
But he still couldn't stop. He couldn't leave it there. Momentum was all that kept him going, and he couldn't let go of it now.
"I found an empty bottle of antidepressants she'd left behind, and well...I don't know. She didn't want me to know, but she was so obviously sick and stressed while we were together, and I thought maybe...maybe whatever that had something to do with it. That maybe she just freaked out and did something stupid. I don't know, I don't have a clue how this stuff works."
Did that make sense, or was he just in denial? Maybe all of the above?
"I was looking for her this morning when I bumped into Paulo. The guy who does the MMA stuff, I mean. He just...he attacked, and I...I didn't mean..."
Didn't mean to jab at Paulo's pride? Didn't mean to hurt him, to seize control when in truth he was only throwing away what little he'd ever had? Didn't mean to...to...
No. They didn't need to know that. Some things could never be shared.
"He attacked me, and...and we were on the bridge, near the town, and...he fell."
He looked helplessly between the two. His friends.
Ian didn't mean to lie, but the words came out before he'd thought them through, a reflexive reassurance to buy himself some time. This wasn't right, it wasn't what he wanted. They were his friends, and he knew he owed them an answer, but the words simply wouldn't come. It was cowardly, it wasn't right, but he was scared, and he didn't know how he could explain things to them. There weren't any answers, just a mess of jumbled facts, and words seemed so pitiful and inadequate.
Heck with it. They were his friends. Not like they'd just, say, walk away or anything, right? Not like that ever happened.
"Bella's gone."
There it was, out in the open. No blame, no excuses, just a simple truth that he still couldn't quite grasp. It would have been easy to stop there, to wait out the storm and hope they'd understand, but he couldn't leave it hanging like that.
He needed them to understand.
"We were waiting out the rain in a building near the golf field, I...I was taking care of some stuff, and when I came back, she was gone."
His breathing was getting ragged now. The dam he'd built to hold his emotions back was finally collapsing, and he could feel them rushing in, snatching at the last few shreds of control remaining to him. Now he couldn't stop, he had to keep going, or else they'd wash him away.
"She left on her own. Her pack was gone, and I've have heard if there'd been struggle. I still don't know why."
His breath seemed to stick in his throat for a moment, and he almost choked on the next two words.
"I'm sorry."
But he still couldn't stop. He couldn't leave it there. Momentum was all that kept him going, and he couldn't let go of it now.
"I found an empty bottle of antidepressants she'd left behind, and well...I don't know. She didn't want me to know, but she was so obviously sick and stressed while we were together, and I thought maybe...maybe whatever that had something to do with it. That maybe she just freaked out and did something stupid. I don't know, I don't have a clue how this stuff works."
Did that make sense, or was he just in denial? Maybe all of the above?
"I was looking for her this morning when I bumped into Paulo. The guy who does the MMA stuff, I mean. He just...he attacked, and I...I didn't mean..."
Didn't mean to jab at Paulo's pride? Didn't mean to hurt him, to seize control when in truth he was only throwing away what little he'd ever had? Didn't mean to...to...
No. They didn't need to know that. Some things could never be shared.
"He attacked me, and...and we were on the bridge, near the town, and...he fell."
He looked helplessly between the two. His friends.
Juhan tried his best to hold himself together, he really did. But as each word slowly made its impact on him, he found himself collapsing against the wall. He held his face in his hands. Whether he was hiding his face from them, or their faces from him, he wasn't sure.
A journalist once said, regarding the Munich Massacre, that your greatest wishes and fears are very rarely realized. Now, Juhan's fears were realized. He couldn't compose himself anymore. All his walls went down, and words started spilling out.
"So, you want to know how my day went, huh? After you left, we went to the airport because we were surrounded by danger zones. We spent hours searching for someone. But no. The one time we're actually of any use, we fail to do something." He beat his fist down in frustration.
"The sky never turned orange. The entire time we were there, no smoke came up."
Juhan's voice was cracking and shaking at this point, and speaking became almost impossible. He pushed on, though. Takeshi already let it out in the open. Without any fanfare also, like it didn't even matter. Like just another day on the island.
He swallowed his anger, because he was already enough of a mess, and the next couple of minutes would be difficult enough. No need to make it worse.
"We went to the beach. There were other people, but I know they're not..."
Juhan started sobbing. He was reliving that moment by telling it. He forced himself to start speaking, but as he did so, he wasn't even sure if it was intelligible. He just needed to let it out.
"It was nighttime. I was scared. I couldn't see much. Only the ship." He was choking on his words.
"I saw other people. I was about to call out to them. But then I saw them. Ian. Takeshi's... he's right. Gavin, Cyrus, Megan, Karen. They're all dead."
He broke down again, and started rocking back and forth. He couldn't stop crying. He couldn't even get himself together for a second, not even for them. But he went on speaking, sure that only some parts would be understood.
"What happened to her? What happened to Paulo? What did you do, where is she? Ian, I can't do this, I can't."
He knew the answers to some of those questions, and knew that he wasn't making sense. But he needed to know because he was in denial and he didn't know what to believe. He stopped speaking for the last time. He wasn't sure about what he wanted to say anymore.
A journalist once said, regarding the Munich Massacre, that your greatest wishes and fears are very rarely realized. Now, Juhan's fears were realized. He couldn't compose himself anymore. All his walls went down, and words started spilling out.
"So, you want to know how my day went, huh? After you left, we went to the airport because we were surrounded by danger zones. We spent hours searching for someone. But no. The one time we're actually of any use, we fail to do something." He beat his fist down in frustration.
"The sky never turned orange. The entire time we were there, no smoke came up."
Juhan's voice was cracking and shaking at this point, and speaking became almost impossible. He pushed on, though. Takeshi already let it out in the open. Without any fanfare also, like it didn't even matter. Like just another day on the island.
He swallowed his anger, because he was already enough of a mess, and the next couple of minutes would be difficult enough. No need to make it worse.
"We went to the beach. There were other people, but I know they're not..."
Juhan started sobbing. He was reliving that moment by telling it. He forced himself to start speaking, but as he did so, he wasn't even sure if it was intelligible. He just needed to let it out.
"It was nighttime. I was scared. I couldn't see much. Only the ship." He was choking on his words.
"I saw other people. I was about to call out to them. But then I saw them. Ian. Takeshi's... he's right. Gavin, Cyrus, Megan, Karen. They're all dead."
He broke down again, and started rocking back and forth. He couldn't stop crying. He couldn't even get himself together for a second, not even for them. But he went on speaking, sure that only some parts would be understood.
"What happened to her? What happened to Paulo? What did you do, where is she? Ian, I can't do this, I can't."
He knew the answers to some of those questions, and knew that he wasn't making sense. But he needed to know because he was in denial and he didn't know what to believe. He stopped speaking for the last time. He wasn't sure about what he wanted to say anymore.
Takeshi nodded as Ian updated them on what had happened since they had last seen one another. He wondered if he should be empathizing about Ian having to kill Paulo. Takeshi hadn't known Paulo well, and couldn't really say what he felt about knowing that somebody he hadn't known was now dead. It was an accident, probably, and one that had made them all safer from the sound of it.
It's not mine to judge.
"You did what you had to do." As Takeshi spoke he wondered how many people had told themselves that as they tried to shut their demons out of their minds at night. Once choice is stripped from an individual, it becomes much easier to rationalize actions. He wondered if killing felt different when it was in self-defense, then he wondered what killing in general felt like. The longer he lived, the more likely it was that he would have to make some hard choices. Especially with the escape plan falling through, he might have to kill to get off the island.
Bella...
"She knows where to go. She knows that we'll be here. That was the plan. Hopefully she'll find her way here."
It's not mine to judge.
"You did what you had to do." As Takeshi spoke he wondered how many people had told themselves that as they tried to shut their demons out of their minds at night. Once choice is stripped from an individual, it becomes much easier to rationalize actions. He wondered if killing felt different when it was in self-defense, then he wondered what killing in general felt like. The longer he lived, the more likely it was that he would have to make some hard choices. Especially with the escape plan falling through, he might have to kill to get off the island.
Bella...
"She knows where to go. She knows that we'll be here. That was the plan. Hopefully she'll find her way here."
- VysePresident
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They didn't get it.
Ian just stood there quietly as the others spoke. Perhaps it had been too much to hope for understanding, but they hardly even seemed to be listening. It might have been easier if they'd simply lashed out at him, adding their recriminations on top of those he already owned. At least that would have meant they cared.
Instead, here came Takeshi, essentially telling him that everything was alright, that he'd only done what was necessary, all packaged in a preoccupied tone that bordered on insulting. As if it were that easy. A face, a name, nothing important lost, right guys?
He shrugged, but he didn't trust himself to speak.
Meanwhile, Juhan was in the last stages of melting into a puddle, and he didn't know what to say. The whole thing had come out of nowhere, a response to a question Ian had never asked, and half of it hardly made sense. What did the escape group have to do with any of this? Was Juhan seriously only just realizing how screwed they were? How the heck was he supposed to answer that?
The worst part of it all was that he could almost understand them, and maybe it wasn't fair to either of them, but he just didn't want to understand. Whatever momentum had carried him before was long since dead, and he barely had the energy to care anymore. He wasn't supposed to have to deal with more problems.
He watched his friend sob a moment longer. He sighed. Of course he would, more fool him.
"I don't know Juhan. I'm sorry, she just walked away, and I don't know why. I'm so freaking sorry." It came easier this time, somehow. Just sort of a dull sense recognition now.
"...Why did you guys even go back? You knew..."
Ian just stood there quietly as the others spoke. Perhaps it had been too much to hope for understanding, but they hardly even seemed to be listening. It might have been easier if they'd simply lashed out at him, adding their recriminations on top of those he already owned. At least that would have meant they cared.
Instead, here came Takeshi, essentially telling him that everything was alright, that he'd only done what was necessary, all packaged in a preoccupied tone that bordered on insulting. As if it were that easy. A face, a name, nothing important lost, right guys?
He shrugged, but he didn't trust himself to speak.
Meanwhile, Juhan was in the last stages of melting into a puddle, and he didn't know what to say. The whole thing had come out of nowhere, a response to a question Ian had never asked, and half of it hardly made sense. What did the escape group have to do with any of this? Was Juhan seriously only just realizing how screwed they were? How the heck was he supposed to answer that?
The worst part of it all was that he could almost understand them, and maybe it wasn't fair to either of them, but he just didn't want to understand. Whatever momentum had carried him before was long since dead, and he barely had the energy to care anymore. He wasn't supposed to have to deal with more problems.
He watched his friend sob a moment longer. He sighed. Of course he would, more fool him.
"I don't know Juhan. I'm sorry, she just walked away, and I don't know why. I'm so freaking sorry." It came easier this time, somehow. Just sort of a dull sense recognition now.
"...Why did you guys even go back? You knew..."
As Juhan sat sobbing in that corner, he couldn't help but start grinding his teeth together when Takeshi spoke. It wasn't fair at all to be thinking this. He'd been nothing but selfish for a while, wallowing in his own misery and pitying himself when there were others to think about. He'd admitted that to himself. But a small part of him seriously envied Takeshi for seeming so lackadaisical about the situation. A few days ago, it would've been easy to tell himself that Bella was doing fine. That she'd find her way and just come crawling back to them. But that was a few days ago, before most of Juhan's friends died, and before his way out of the island was crushed within an instant. The island didn't allow for being quixotic. It made itself clear every day that the last days of their lives would be hell.
Juhan wanted that. It would be so much easier for him if he shielded himself with optimism, behind 'everything is fine' and 'this will come to pass'. Ignorance is bliss. Right now, he wanted to be ignorant so desperately. Maybe if he hadn't gone to that beach, he could still have some purpose, some hope. It would only last for one more day, and it would be for nothing, yes, but right now, that seemed like a better option. Juhan wasn't built to have burdens like this on his shoulder. He was built to worry about whether his grades would be good enough for the university, if he'd be able to meet this deadline or if he'd have to ask for an extension.
But as it was, Juhan already saw it. The truth was carved into his mind, and there was nothing he could do about it. All he could do was bear the weight and try to go on. Try.
Ian brought up a question that hadn't occurred to Juhan. One that he wasn't sure he could answer himself. But he'd try.
"I... I don't know," he choked out. "Guess I was hoping that they were just taking a bit long. That everything was still alright. I don't know why I came back. I wish I hadn't, really."
He let the words hang in the air for a while, waiting for words to be said. He wanted to wait until later on for his next question, but no one else spoke. Again, there was only one thing left to be asked.
"What's after this, huh? I don't know, and I don't think I want to know. But can you tell me? What do we do next?"
Juhan wanted that. It would be so much easier for him if he shielded himself with optimism, behind 'everything is fine' and 'this will come to pass'. Ignorance is bliss. Right now, he wanted to be ignorant so desperately. Maybe if he hadn't gone to that beach, he could still have some purpose, some hope. It would only last for one more day, and it would be for nothing, yes, but right now, that seemed like a better option. Juhan wasn't built to have burdens like this on his shoulder. He was built to worry about whether his grades would be good enough for the university, if he'd be able to meet this deadline or if he'd have to ask for an extension.
But as it was, Juhan already saw it. The truth was carved into his mind, and there was nothing he could do about it. All he could do was bear the weight and try to go on. Try.
Ian brought up a question that hadn't occurred to Juhan. One that he wasn't sure he could answer himself. But he'd try.
"I... I don't know," he choked out. "Guess I was hoping that they were just taking a bit long. That everything was still alright. I don't know why I came back. I wish I hadn't, really."
He let the words hang in the air for a while, waiting for words to be said. He wanted to wait until later on for his next question, but no one else spoke. Again, there was only one thing left to be asked.
"What's after this, huh? I don't know, and I don't think I want to know. But can you tell me? What do we do next?"
Takeshi was silent for a long time. When he finally spoke, it was in a low and quiet tone.
"I don't have any answers. I don't have any useful ideas. I'm pretty sure that there's no escape, and I don't think anybody even knows we're here. The government declared mission accomplished without a trace of irony. I think we remember what happened last time somebody said that. The cold truth, Juhan, is that we're probably all going to die here. Somebody might make it off the island, but then what? You think any of the players are going to have a home to go to? All of us die here, one way or another. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe somebody is coming, Maybe they figure it out in time, but if they don't, we have to decide how we want to die, and what we want that to mean. Hell, we've got enough alcohol and I've got a firestarter. We could burn this motherfucker down right now. Whole fucking hotel. Super dramatic, so I'm sure it will entertain that damned voice."
He had become more animated toward the end, then his demeanor suddenly returned forced appearing serenity. He paused, looking at the bottle he'd been examining earlier. "You know, I've never had alcohol before. My parents don't drink. Sound body, sound mind you know. I'm wondering if now is the worst time to try it, or the only time to try it."
"I don't have any answers. I don't have any useful ideas. I'm pretty sure that there's no escape, and I don't think anybody even knows we're here. The government declared mission accomplished without a trace of irony. I think we remember what happened last time somebody said that. The cold truth, Juhan, is that we're probably all going to die here. Somebody might make it off the island, but then what? You think any of the players are going to have a home to go to? All of us die here, one way or another. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe somebody is coming, Maybe they figure it out in time, but if they don't, we have to decide how we want to die, and what we want that to mean. Hell, we've got enough alcohol and I've got a firestarter. We could burn this motherfucker down right now. Whole fucking hotel. Super dramatic, so I'm sure it will entertain that damned voice."
He had become more animated toward the end, then his demeanor suddenly returned forced appearing serenity. He paused, looking at the bottle he'd been examining earlier. "You know, I've never had alcohol before. My parents don't drink. Sound body, sound mind you know. I'm wondering if now is the worst time to try it, or the only time to try it."
- VysePresident
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"Mmm. When in doubt, use fire, eh?"
The words were quiet, almost murmured. Ian didn't really expect the others to get it, didn't really care. It was a little joke for himself alone, and that was almost fitting, in a way. The whole thing was joke at his expense, and he was the only one who seemed to realize it. He shook his head, gave a little snort.
"And then what? What's the point?"
It was, after all, the same question, the one he'd fled back at the beach, only to get thrown back in his face now. It had been such a relief when Takeshi spoke up, all the way up until it managed to become even worse. Because whatever it was, it wasn't an answer, not really, and now he had to say something. Because he needed an answer too, and nobody else was looking for one.
"Thing is, you know they're going to blow our collars the instant we try to mess with things. I don't know how much time we have, but I'm darned if I'm going to waste it on Danya. I mean, screw him, obviously, and everyone working for him, but it's not like he cares. Not like he has any reason to. Faces, names, all just a few numbers, y'know."
So many words, making so little sense, with absolutely no point in sight.
"Look, we're all that we have left, along with Bella, and maybe a couple others. That's what matters. I don't want to make a statement. It's a waste of time. Everything I want to say to the guy ought to be covered in Kindergarten and a .44, and I don't think either of those are getting through to him anytime soon. I get it, we lost, but there's got to be something better than...this."
The words were quiet, almost resigned, and it really wasn't fair. They were all breaking down in their own ways, except for him, because apparently he wasn't allowed to. There was no room to lash out, he couldn't melt into a puddle, and even the idea of righteous indignation fell rather flat. He couldn't resent them, couldn't pretend they were any different than himself. He wasn't Steven, he owed them better.
Really, he just felt pathetic, and he hated it.
"Look, why don't we find a room or something to hold up for the rest of the day? I don't know about you guys, but...this isn't right. I'm not exactly up for hiking across the island again anyway, and it'll give Bella a chance to show up, if she's coming. If not, well, maybe we can find her. I'd at least like to know she's okay."
And maybe ask her why.
The words were quiet, almost murmured. Ian didn't really expect the others to get it, didn't really care. It was a little joke for himself alone, and that was almost fitting, in a way. The whole thing was joke at his expense, and he was the only one who seemed to realize it. He shook his head, gave a little snort.
"And then what? What's the point?"
It was, after all, the same question, the one he'd fled back at the beach, only to get thrown back in his face now. It had been such a relief when Takeshi spoke up, all the way up until it managed to become even worse. Because whatever it was, it wasn't an answer, not really, and now he had to say something. Because he needed an answer too, and nobody else was looking for one.
"Thing is, you know they're going to blow our collars the instant we try to mess with things. I don't know how much time we have, but I'm darned if I'm going to waste it on Danya. I mean, screw him, obviously, and everyone working for him, but it's not like he cares. Not like he has any reason to. Faces, names, all just a few numbers, y'know."
So many words, making so little sense, with absolutely no point in sight.
"Look, we're all that we have left, along with Bella, and maybe a couple others. That's what matters. I don't want to make a statement. It's a waste of time. Everything I want to say to the guy ought to be covered in Kindergarten and a .44, and I don't think either of those are getting through to him anytime soon. I get it, we lost, but there's got to be something better than...this."
The words were quiet, almost resigned, and it really wasn't fair. They were all breaking down in their own ways, except for him, because apparently he wasn't allowed to. There was no room to lash out, he couldn't melt into a puddle, and even the idea of righteous indignation fell rather flat. He couldn't resent them, couldn't pretend they were any different than himself. He wasn't Steven, he owed them better.
Really, he just felt pathetic, and he hated it.
"Look, why don't we find a room or something to hold up for the rest of the day? I don't know about you guys, but...this isn't right. I'm not exactly up for hiking across the island again anyway, and it'll give Bella a chance to show up, if she's coming. If not, well, maybe we can find her. I'd at least like to know she's okay."
And maybe ask her why.
Shut up, Takeshi.
Everything he'd said was stuff that Juhan knew already. He knew that there wasn't going to be any happy ending, he knew that they'd all die some horrible death, he knew that they were screwed. And yeah, maybe they should start planning how they die. Suicide wasn't out of the question. But right now, Juhan didn't want to hear the 'cold truth'. What he wanted was a promise, something to keep him going a while longer. Even if he knew if it was pointless, it would still be something to hold onto. That was what he needed. More illusions, just something. There had to be something left to work towards to, right? Because Juhan changed his mind. He didn't want to give up yet. He'd spent all of his time on the island having done nothing that actually achieved results. All he'd done recently was mope, and he hated himself for that. It wasn't fair to them at all, it was never fair. Before, anytime he tried to do something good, he ended up failing fantastically. The escape plot killed four of his friends. Just the thought didn't count anymore. Going out just like that to 'send a message' would be pretty selfish to the few friends of Juhan's that are still alive.
Juhan simply shot a glare at Takeshi for half a second before looking away. Takeshi probably didn't even catch it, and it was probably for the best. He was never one to speak out. The few times he'd done so back in school, it caused a bunch of unavoidable problems. A glare was the best Juhan could do to express his feelings.
Ian didn't give him anything also, but at least it wasn't 'Just kill yourself already'. Holing up in a room and waiting for Bella, he could do that. It would give him a little more time before he finally worked what, no, if there was anything left to do. If there was anything to wait for.
Exhale. Get yourself together. Start making sense.
"I'm fine with that. Anything works for me."
Everything he'd said was stuff that Juhan knew already. He knew that there wasn't going to be any happy ending, he knew that they'd all die some horrible death, he knew that they were screwed. And yeah, maybe they should start planning how they die. Suicide wasn't out of the question. But right now, Juhan didn't want to hear the 'cold truth'. What he wanted was a promise, something to keep him going a while longer. Even if he knew if it was pointless, it would still be something to hold onto. That was what he needed. More illusions, just something. There had to be something left to work towards to, right? Because Juhan changed his mind. He didn't want to give up yet. He'd spent all of his time on the island having done nothing that actually achieved results. All he'd done recently was mope, and he hated himself for that. It wasn't fair to them at all, it was never fair. Before, anytime he tried to do something good, he ended up failing fantastically. The escape plot killed four of his friends. Just the thought didn't count anymore. Going out just like that to 'send a message' would be pretty selfish to the few friends of Juhan's that are still alive.
Juhan simply shot a glare at Takeshi for half a second before looking away. Takeshi probably didn't even catch it, and it was probably for the best. He was never one to speak out. The few times he'd done so back in school, it caused a bunch of unavoidable problems. A glare was the best Juhan could do to express his feelings.
Ian didn't give him anything also, but at least it wasn't 'Just kill yourself already'. Holing up in a room and waiting for Bella, he could do that. It would give him a little more time before he finally worked what, no, if there was anything left to do. If there was anything to wait for.
Exhale. Get yourself together. Start making sense.
"I'm fine with that. Anything works for me."
Takeshi nodded in response to Ian's suggestion. It wasn't as if there was a goal or a plan anymore. They could stay at the hotel for a while and wait for Bella to find them, if she decided to make her way to them. He tried not to think about what would happen if they heard her name on the announcements.
"This is where we were supposed to meet, so this is a good place to stop and rest for as long as we're able. Probably more comfortable than anywhere else we've stayed the night on this island. I'd like to see Bella, too. I hope she does come. She seemed..." Takeshi stopped and shook his head. There was nothing to be gained by voicing his thoughts about Bella's demeanor when they had parted ways.
"I just hope she finds her way to us."
"This is where we were supposed to meet, so this is a good place to stop and rest for as long as we're able. Probably more comfortable than anywhere else we've stayed the night on this island. I'd like to see Bella, too. I hope she does come. She seemed..." Takeshi stopped and shook his head. There was nothing to be gained by voicing his thoughts about Bella's demeanor when they had parted ways.
"I just hope she finds her way to us."
"Yeah."
There was nothing more to say. Anything that could be said was said already, and he'd just be repeating and rephrasing himself if he spoke anymore. All Juhan could do now is make excuses for why Bella wasn't with them anymore. Maybe she got lost. Yeah, that was a nice reason. Maybe she wandered off, and then Ian left before she could find him, and now she's heading towards the hotel. That was a nice delusion, something he could make himself believe for a while. It was all he could afford to believe, really.
With that, he walked out of the lounge. He hadn't rested for a long time. He was spent. For over 24 hours, he hadn't slept. It was funny how much had changed within that time period. Over a dozen more of his classmates had died within that period of time. When he woke up last time, he was in a rusty ship. The escape plot was still there and they still had a plan. Now, he was completely, utterly ruined. He wasn't sure what kept him going on. He was too tired to think about it. He hadn't drunken any water or eaten for that same amount of time, as a matter of fact. Every step was getting harder, and his eyelids were struggling to hold themselves up. He needed to rest now.
While walking past the lobby, he finally recognized two of the bodies from the clothes they were wearing. Alexander and Sophie. They left the escape plot, yet they still weren't saved from the island itself. Ian, Takeshi, Bella, and Juhan were the last of the escapists.
It was a sobering thought. But right now, Juhan didn't want to dwell on it. He was simply too exhausted. Later. Not now. Right now, he'd find a room, and then rest. That was what might be his last goal for a while.
Eventually, they found a room upstairs. As soon as they opened the door, he lay down on the couch and slipped away, without a word.
((Juhan Levandi continues in And I'm Not Sleeping Now))
There was nothing more to say. Anything that could be said was said already, and he'd just be repeating and rephrasing himself if he spoke anymore. All Juhan could do now is make excuses for why Bella wasn't with them anymore. Maybe she got lost. Yeah, that was a nice reason. Maybe she wandered off, and then Ian left before she could find him, and now she's heading towards the hotel. That was a nice delusion, something he could make himself believe for a while. It was all he could afford to believe, really.
With that, he walked out of the lounge. He hadn't rested for a long time. He was spent. For over 24 hours, he hadn't slept. It was funny how much had changed within that time period. Over a dozen more of his classmates had died within that period of time. When he woke up last time, he was in a rusty ship. The escape plot was still there and they still had a plan. Now, he was completely, utterly ruined. He wasn't sure what kept him going on. He was too tired to think about it. He hadn't drunken any water or eaten for that same amount of time, as a matter of fact. Every step was getting harder, and his eyelids were struggling to hold themselves up. He needed to rest now.
While walking past the lobby, he finally recognized two of the bodies from the clothes they were wearing. Alexander and Sophie. They left the escape plot, yet they still weren't saved from the island itself. Ian, Takeshi, Bella, and Juhan were the last of the escapists.
It was a sobering thought. But right now, Juhan didn't want to dwell on it. He was simply too exhausted. Later. Not now. Right now, he'd find a room, and then rest. That was what might be his last goal for a while.
Eventually, they found a room upstairs. As soon as they opened the door, he lay down on the couch and slipped away, without a word.
((Juhan Levandi continues in And I'm Not Sleeping Now))