"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!?"
A bloodcurdling shriek echoed through the halls of the abandoned hotel as Brittany Ashworth awoke and realized where she was. She frantically banged on doors, trying to find some form of human life, trying to find a reason as to why she was dumped here. "Don't these people have a clue?" she thought, "Obviously they must not if they knew who I am..." A soft sigh came from Brittany as she went to retrieve her possessions, which were nothing more than what the organizers gave her and...
"What's this?" she shouted when she saw the book. In her rage, she couldn't help but to note the irony of having a copy of Lord of the Flies drop onto the floor when she emptied out the bag to look for the contents. She had seen the original Survival of the Fittest with a few of her...friends...but seeing as how most of her friends were older boys, they were into the carnage and bloodshed, it became almost like second nature. But this...a book? She started playing out scenarios in her head...what if she came across someone with an actual weapon, like a gun or some kind of a blade? And what if she (gasp!) had to rely on a kid who had less privilege and prestige as she did...kids that she often referred to as "inferior", "poor", and her personal favorite..."Sam's kids," in reference to the fact that many of their families shopped at the local Wal-Mart.
The thoughts continued to race through her head as she eventually made her way down to the main lobby. Brittany looked around and didn't see anyone she recognized right away, so she did the only thing she knew.
"Hell-LOOOHHHHH!" she shouted, "Are there any of you rats out there that can help me?"
((OOC: This character is fair game...so if you want to kill her right now, let me know and we'll work something out.))
This is Your Wake-Up Call...
((Continued from Do Not Disturb))
Paris decided that he should just team up with these fellow players unless there was an exit on the other side of the lobby. They can act as shields for him just incase a hail of bullets come raining down upon them. He supposed it would be the best decision, especially since he wouldn't be able to get out of the hotel without going thorugh them. The boy took ahold of all his possessions and slowly crept from his room and slowly went down the hotel hall.
This hotel was big enough so there was other ways to get to the lobby. Paris thought it'd be much better if we went down the stairs at the other side of the floor desending down into the other side of the lobby. Bolo knife in hand the Gossip King looked at his surroundings. It was one of those lounge type of areas, not too elaborate but enough for visitors to relax. Looking around he suddenly saw another girl roaming about. Paris immediatly hid behind the corner of the stairwell; This was just perfect. Now he was trapped by both sides of the lobby, this greatly annoyed him. What was he to do now? Paris suddenly started calculating in his head, he devised a quick plot on how to deal with the girl and this situation he was in.
The knife in his hand shook as he was about to undertake this procedure. It was nervewrecking as Paris never really killed before. But it had to be done, how on earth would he survive in this desolate place unworthy of his prescence if he didn't take matters into his own hands. He needed to come to the realization that you must kill if you don't want to be killed. This was Survival of the Fittest, this time he had to use knives instead of his words to chop up people. No mercy whatsoever. The boy engraved this into his head, as he went over his plan to get rid of this girl.
This was a risk, a major risk. Those group of people might murder Paris unless he would put on a good show. Theworst possible case scenario was that the group killed him. If everything goes accordingly he should be safe, nestled into the center of their little group until he can find a convineint time to leave them. With that Paris griped his knife tightly and proceeded with the operation. Paris needed to be confident about this, he tried to find deep bowels of hatred inside of him besides the usual nerd, loser, annoying people he dealt with daily. While searching his memory banks something came up. Garry Amato.
That whole affair rushed into his head angering him to a boil; The geek who had the nerve to bust him up? It was inconceivable! It was a nightmare having to cope with the damned ways of the hospital as well as the facial injuries he suffered. But fortunatly the wounds weren't that bad. Very superficial, they healed with a weeks rest.
The thought of Garry made Paris grip the knife with confidence. The dream he had of stranggling Garry with the use of curtain wires and a fan appeared in his head. And with that last thought in mind Paris carefully made his way toward unsuspecting Britany Ashworth. Creeping slowly behind her, Britany started calling out. Rats? Rats? I'll show you who the true rat is..... Britanys rat comment annoyed Paris greatly, sure he was creeping like a rat toward its piece of cheese but thats only because he's been reduced to this by the SOTF. Paris was right behind the girl now, all hatred of Garry vanished and all thats left was a nervous boy. Shaking his head he knew he had to do this, he had to do it NOW.
Britany turned around, it looks like she was going to explore the lobby some mkore but Paris didn't let her. The sudden action made the mindless Paris immediatly jab his knife toward Britanys mouth. The Gossip Kings mind was blank, he was trying to provoke himself to do it however Britany turned around which terrifyed him. And so with a blank mind his body suddenly did the engraved actions he made sure he was about to do. Paris looked shocked as his knife jab didn't go into her mouth, his interse anxiety made him slam it right into the corner of her mouth. Shit.... The face of the boy was that of disgust, the corner of her mouth has been ripped right open. Making and even wider mouth.
Britany looked as shock as he did, he needed to finish this and finish this now before the group of moronic students come and find him like this. Without another thought Paris suddenly gave a loud terrifying screm. As he screamed Paris pulled back the knife from her newly expanded mouth and rammed it inside again with force. He lowered the knife aiming toward her esophagus and continued to ram the back of her mouth, Britany's mouth bubbled with blood and started coughing some up. Paris was tryed to dodge the squirts of blood as his scream continued to pierce the ears of the hotel.
After about six rams he removed the knife from her mouth and slashed it across her chest. Paris didn't hesitate, right after the slashed he slammed the knife into the vicinity of the heart hoping it would finish her off. Britany who's eyes lost personality fell to the floor, blood leaking from her mouth. Paris' scream sharply ended after Britany fell. The boy looked at what he just accomplished, it looked completley repulsive to him. His eyes were wide not beleiving what he has just done, it was unbeleivable. The feeling, it was tremendous and overwhelming. It felt like he was killing Garry, Paris' eyes adjusted and imagined a cut up Garry. Dead on the floor.
However reality snapped back into his head and realized that he didn't have time to praise himself over this golorious event. Paris collaped to the floor not to far from Britanys fallen body and burst into tears. He layed his bolo knife next to him, still covered and driping with Britany's blood.
The stage was set for the next scene.
G16 Brittany Ashworth - STATUS: DEAD
Paris decided that he should just team up with these fellow players unless there was an exit on the other side of the lobby. They can act as shields for him just incase a hail of bullets come raining down upon them. He supposed it would be the best decision, especially since he wouldn't be able to get out of the hotel without going thorugh them. The boy took ahold of all his possessions and slowly crept from his room and slowly went down the hotel hall.
This hotel was big enough so there was other ways to get to the lobby. Paris thought it'd be much better if we went down the stairs at the other side of the floor desending down into the other side of the lobby. Bolo knife in hand the Gossip King looked at his surroundings. It was one of those lounge type of areas, not too elaborate but enough for visitors to relax. Looking around he suddenly saw another girl roaming about. Paris immediatly hid behind the corner of the stairwell; This was just perfect. Now he was trapped by both sides of the lobby, this greatly annoyed him. What was he to do now? Paris suddenly started calculating in his head, he devised a quick plot on how to deal with the girl and this situation he was in.
The knife in his hand shook as he was about to undertake this procedure. It was nervewrecking as Paris never really killed before. But it had to be done, how on earth would he survive in this desolate place unworthy of his prescence if he didn't take matters into his own hands. He needed to come to the realization that you must kill if you don't want to be killed. This was Survival of the Fittest, this time he had to use knives instead of his words to chop up people. No mercy whatsoever. The boy engraved this into his head, as he went over his plan to get rid of this girl.
This was a risk, a major risk. Those group of people might murder Paris unless he would put on a good show. Theworst possible case scenario was that the group killed him. If everything goes accordingly he should be safe, nestled into the center of their little group until he can find a convineint time to leave them. With that Paris griped his knife tightly and proceeded with the operation. Paris needed to be confident about this, he tried to find deep bowels of hatred inside of him besides the usual nerd, loser, annoying people he dealt with daily. While searching his memory banks something came up. Garry Amato.
That whole affair rushed into his head angering him to a boil; The geek who had the nerve to bust him up? It was inconceivable! It was a nightmare having to cope with the damned ways of the hospital as well as the facial injuries he suffered. But fortunatly the wounds weren't that bad. Very superficial, they healed with a weeks rest.
The thought of Garry made Paris grip the knife with confidence. The dream he had of stranggling Garry with the use of curtain wires and a fan appeared in his head. And with that last thought in mind Paris carefully made his way toward unsuspecting Britany Ashworth. Creeping slowly behind her, Britany started calling out. Rats? Rats? I'll show you who the true rat is..... Britanys rat comment annoyed Paris greatly, sure he was creeping like a rat toward its piece of cheese but thats only because he's been reduced to this by the SOTF. Paris was right behind the girl now, all hatred of Garry vanished and all thats left was a nervous boy. Shaking his head he knew he had to do this, he had to do it NOW.
Britany turned around, it looks like she was going to explore the lobby some mkore but Paris didn't let her. The sudden action made the mindless Paris immediatly jab his knife toward Britanys mouth. The Gossip Kings mind was blank, he was trying to provoke himself to do it however Britany turned around which terrifyed him. And so with a blank mind his body suddenly did the engraved actions he made sure he was about to do. Paris looked shocked as his knife jab didn't go into her mouth, his interse anxiety made him slam it right into the corner of her mouth. Shit.... The face of the boy was that of disgust, the corner of her mouth has been ripped right open. Making and even wider mouth.
Britany looked as shock as he did, he needed to finish this and finish this now before the group of moronic students come and find him like this. Without another thought Paris suddenly gave a loud terrifying screm. As he screamed Paris pulled back the knife from her newly expanded mouth and rammed it inside again with force. He lowered the knife aiming toward her esophagus and continued to ram the back of her mouth, Britany's mouth bubbled with blood and started coughing some up. Paris was tryed to dodge the squirts of blood as his scream continued to pierce the ears of the hotel.
After about six rams he removed the knife from her mouth and slashed it across her chest. Paris didn't hesitate, right after the slashed he slammed the knife into the vicinity of the heart hoping it would finish her off. Britany who's eyes lost personality fell to the floor, blood leaking from her mouth. Paris' scream sharply ended after Britany fell. The boy looked at what he just accomplished, it looked completley repulsive to him. His eyes were wide not beleiving what he has just done, it was unbeleivable. The feeling, it was tremendous and overwhelming. It felt like he was killing Garry, Paris' eyes adjusted and imagined a cut up Garry. Dead on the floor.
However reality snapped back into his head and realized that he didn't have time to praise himself over this golorious event. Paris collaped to the floor not to far from Britanys fallen body and burst into tears. He layed his bolo knife next to him, still covered and driping with Britany's blood.
The stage was set for the next scene.
G16 Brittany Ashworth - STATUS: DEAD
((Please, please, please PLEASE tell me that Croco is and was okay with this, otherwise it's a rather ridiculously blatant example of godmoding... 
Also, SBP, can you try not to use that kind of formatting and just use regular enter and whatnot? It looks like...well...it's rather difficult to read on most of our screens.))
Also, SBP, can you try not to use that kind of formatting and just use regular enter and whatnot? It looks like...well...it's rather difficult to read on most of our screens.))((Hey Adam, check your PM box...I've got the answer to your question there.))
((I do apologize =( I was writing that post at school and it must have screwed up when I copied it from wordpad. Also I apologize for not putting in parenthesis that I was given permission >_<))
((It's no problem, just make sure that in the future you do. And also, if you make a kill, remember to identify it as such or we lose track. 
))
))((Continued from Do Not Disturb))
Franco rounded the corner through the doorway into the other end of the lobby. He kept his grenade launcher level as he sprinted into the lobby. His thin hair was now a light brown mess of sweat and his half-gelled cow-lick. The stuffy hallway lobby seemed to smell of more than musk, stagnation and sweat in this room. Franco could smell a rich iron that reminded him of his trips to the hospital as a boy. He couldn't pin down what it was until the room came into full view.
An unfamiliar young man sat crying next to a mutilated body. There was blood all over the place. The dead girl had a number of stab wounds in her body and all across her face. Franco's face twisted in disgust. He retched and forced himself not to vomit once again. The young man was covered in blood and Franco was surprised that the boy had not lost his lunch himself.
Reality snapped back to Franco and he lifted his grenade launcher to point it at the crying boy. He didn't give a damn that he was crying, he had still killed the other girl, and Franco wasn't going to ease up on the boy that was clearly the killer. He resisted the urge to pull the trigger immediately and instead waited for Anna to come into the room. His boy was trouble. That much Franco could tell, and if there was one thing that Franco liked to leave to others, it was trouble.
Crying didn't bother him; somehow it eased the situation for Franco. In this boys shattered state Franco had power. He glared and grinned in the boy's direction, hoping that he would look up to see his doom. In his head Franco imagined himself standing above all his peers with his grenade launcher out at full length. Once Anna was here, he would let her see how this boy was going to pay. He would show her how much of a man he was.
Franco rounded the corner through the doorway into the other end of the lobby. He kept his grenade launcher level as he sprinted into the lobby. His thin hair was now a light brown mess of sweat and his half-gelled cow-lick. The stuffy hallway lobby seemed to smell of more than musk, stagnation and sweat in this room. Franco could smell a rich iron that reminded him of his trips to the hospital as a boy. He couldn't pin down what it was until the room came into full view.
An unfamiliar young man sat crying next to a mutilated body. There was blood all over the place. The dead girl had a number of stab wounds in her body and all across her face. Franco's face twisted in disgust. He retched and forced himself not to vomit once again. The young man was covered in blood and Franco was surprised that the boy had not lost his lunch himself.
Reality snapped back to Franco and he lifted his grenade launcher to point it at the crying boy. He didn't give a damn that he was crying, he had still killed the other girl, and Franco wasn't going to ease up on the boy that was clearly the killer. He resisted the urge to pull the trigger immediately and instead waited for Anna to come into the room. His boy was trouble. That much Franco could tell, and if there was one thing that Franco liked to leave to others, it was trouble.
Crying didn't bother him; somehow it eased the situation for Franco. In this boys shattered state Franco had power. He glared and grinned in the boy's direction, hoping that he would look up to see his doom. In his head Franco imagined himself standing above all his peers with his grenade launcher out at full length. Once Anna was here, he would let her see how this boy was going to pay. He would show her how much of a man he was.
-
narfinkool*
- Posts: 27
- Joined: Wed Sep 26, 2018 1:15 am
((Continued from B-24 Start in Residential))
Russ walked towards the entrance of the hotel. He paused, took in a huge breath and opened the door to proceed inside. The walls of the hotel seemed somewhat depressing as he began to look around. He stopped to listen for a while.
He believed that there may be people here that may have already joined a group.
What is to stop me from joining a group? Of course they wouldn't mind.
He has always been a team player. Russ thought about it what would happen if someone was playing the game. Maybe they had killed everyone in all the rooms. What would happen if he showed up, in front of Russ? This could cause trouble. He could only be sure once he checked. He had to take a chance. He had to act now if he wanted to survive. He grabbed his shotgun and placed it in front of his chest in case anyone decided to sneak attack him.
He then began to panic and check out the waiting area for people in the area.
Coast is clear.
"My name is Russell and I am here under good terms! I am here to talk strategy and hopeful work something out," he screamed aloud. "I want to know where everyone is and what their weapons are." He stopped what is he was saying. Maybe there is a terrible killer that might come to kill him without hesitation. He shook off the thought and proceeds. "I have a shotgun so don't start anything. I am armed. Please, we can work this out, please listen." Russ shouted with a bit of a stutter in his voice, he was clearly nervous.
Russ walked towards the entrance of the hotel. He paused, took in a huge breath and opened the door to proceed inside. The walls of the hotel seemed somewhat depressing as he began to look around. He stopped to listen for a while.
He believed that there may be people here that may have already joined a group.
What is to stop me from joining a group? Of course they wouldn't mind.
He has always been a team player. Russ thought about it what would happen if someone was playing the game. Maybe they had killed everyone in all the rooms. What would happen if he showed up, in front of Russ? This could cause trouble. He could only be sure once he checked. He had to take a chance. He had to act now if he wanted to survive. He grabbed his shotgun and placed it in front of his chest in case anyone decided to sneak attack him.
He then began to panic and check out the waiting area for people in the area.
Coast is clear.
"My name is Russell and I am here under good terms! I am here to talk strategy and hopeful work something out," he screamed aloud. "I want to know where everyone is and what their weapons are." He stopped what is he was saying. Maybe there is a terrible killer that might come to kill him without hesitation. He shook off the thought and proceeds. "I have a shotgun so don't start anything. I am armed. Please, we can work this out, please listen." Russ shouted with a bit of a stutter in his voice, he was clearly nervous.
((Continuada dal Do Not Disturb))
Marvin tread very carefully as he followed his (now-former?) cliquemate to the other lobby, ducking behind any wall or furniture he could on his way. Eventually, he found himself in the hallway leading to that lobby, with Franco already inside and that girl of his following. He stopped a ways before the entrance before decided to take a peek just to see what they were doing.
His first glance afforded him Franco, his new girlfriend on her way there, a crying boy and...Shit...a dead body! The mangled corpse really made him want to lose his last meal, and his face almost turned green as his sweatervest. That corpse looked even more bloodied up than he left Damien. He forced himself to gulp down anything that might have tried to escape, before taking a deep breath and peering around again.
Looking closely, he spotted Franco, his girlfriend on her way to him, the crying boy, the corpse, and - squinting to get a view of what he'd suspected Franco was armed with - saw none other than what appeared to be a flare gun or...grenade launcher. Marvin quickly drew himself back, his eyes wide open.
Dumbass! At that range he'll blow us all to hell and back! So much for a reunion. Ah well, hopefully I'll get a free grenade launcher out of this...but first I gotta make sure I don't get incinerated.
Keeping close to the wall he started to make his way away from Franco to the other end of the lobby. He could hang around the bend in the area in case the explosion decided to sear through the hallway around as well. Unfortunately, he stopped about half-way down the hall when he heard someone start shouting from the direction of the hotel's main entrance.
He couldn't hear most of the first part, but he did clearly understand that the man - as the voice sounded - had a shotgun, or at least claimed to. This time he was very afraid to peer around the corner to confirm it, lest he not have a head to withdraw after doing so. He tensed himself and took a deep breath, carefully lowering his stuffed daypack to the ground.
Aww, shit on a shingle. Trapped between a load of rocks and a very hot place.
Out of sight of either Franco or the man with the shotgun, Marvin's mind began to churn. He was faced with either death by buckshot or death by explosion. But there existed the slim chance that he could actually negotiate his way out of either, and have that death inflicted on the other. He obviously couldn't just run toward either side, lest he get blown away (literally) by surprise. He couldn't announce where he was, otherwise he'd attract them both together and he'd be square in the middle. On the other hand, time was running out as Franco could as well have heard that announcement.
He finally decided that getting buckshotted by "Russell" at least gave him a piddance of a fighting chance ((and if you remember, he did want to go down fighting)) than being vaporized by Franco. The shotgun man also didn't sound as confident when he made his threats as Franco did, so with any luck, he might be able to talk him down. Marvin removed his sweatervest and mostly-white dress shirt, then put the vest back on. He carefully advanced to the edge toward the main hallway, poked as much of his hand and arm out as he could and waved the white shirt. ((That is, go down fighting, per se.))
C'mon, Russ. You'll buy this.
Marvin planned to come across as a pacifist, and his intentions would actually be half-genuine, seeing as how he was obviously armed with only his bare hands. Showing himself with his bare chest would obviously make him too vulnerable, though.
Marvin tread very carefully as he followed his (now-former?) cliquemate to the other lobby, ducking behind any wall or furniture he could on his way. Eventually, he found himself in the hallway leading to that lobby, with Franco already inside and that girl of his following. He stopped a ways before the entrance before decided to take a peek just to see what they were doing.
His first glance afforded him Franco, his new girlfriend on her way there, a crying boy and...Shit...a dead body! The mangled corpse really made him want to lose his last meal, and his face almost turned green as his sweatervest. That corpse looked even more bloodied up than he left Damien. He forced himself to gulp down anything that might have tried to escape, before taking a deep breath and peering around again.
Looking closely, he spotted Franco, his girlfriend on her way to him, the crying boy, the corpse, and - squinting to get a view of what he'd suspected Franco was armed with - saw none other than what appeared to be a flare gun or...grenade launcher. Marvin quickly drew himself back, his eyes wide open.
Dumbass! At that range he'll blow us all to hell and back! So much for a reunion. Ah well, hopefully I'll get a free grenade launcher out of this...but first I gotta make sure I don't get incinerated.
Keeping close to the wall he started to make his way away from Franco to the other end of the lobby. He could hang around the bend in the area in case the explosion decided to sear through the hallway around as well. Unfortunately, he stopped about half-way down the hall when he heard someone start shouting from the direction of the hotel's main entrance.
He couldn't hear most of the first part, but he did clearly understand that the man - as the voice sounded - had a shotgun, or at least claimed to. This time he was very afraid to peer around the corner to confirm it, lest he not have a head to withdraw after doing so. He tensed himself and took a deep breath, carefully lowering his stuffed daypack to the ground.
Aww, shit on a shingle. Trapped between a load of rocks and a very hot place.
Out of sight of either Franco or the man with the shotgun, Marvin's mind began to churn. He was faced with either death by buckshot or death by explosion. But there existed the slim chance that he could actually negotiate his way out of either, and have that death inflicted on the other. He obviously couldn't just run toward either side, lest he get blown away (literally) by surprise. He couldn't announce where he was, otherwise he'd attract them both together and he'd be square in the middle. On the other hand, time was running out as Franco could as well have heard that announcement.
He finally decided that getting buckshotted by "Russell" at least gave him a piddance of a fighting chance ((and if you remember, he did want to go down fighting)) than being vaporized by Franco. The shotgun man also didn't sound as confident when he made his threats as Franco did, so with any luck, he might be able to talk him down. Marvin removed his sweatervest and mostly-white dress shirt, then put the vest back on. He carefully advanced to the edge toward the main hallway, poked as much of his hand and arm out as he could and waved the white shirt. ((That is, go down fighting, per se.))
C'mon, Russ. You'll buy this.
Marvin planned to come across as a pacifist, and his intentions would actually be half-genuine, seeing as how he was obviously armed with only his bare hands. Showing himself with his bare chest would obviously make him too vulnerable, though.
Brittany made her way across the lobby, looking for any sign of life that could help her make sense of the situation. Five minutes passed, then ten...still, nothing. Having had enough, she stormed for the nearest elevator and pressed the up button, only to find that the elevator was out of service. "Great," she thought, "don't tell me I'm gonna have to climb all these stairs to get back up to where that bag is..." In her haste, she had inadvertantly left her pack where she was placed on the sixth floor and so, she began to trudge back up the stairs, hoping that she could still find it where she was.
But then she heard something that caught her attention. Brittany turned and began looking around as if to find out where that noise came from. Curiosity, and a bit of anger and desperation getting the best of her, she stepped away from the elevator and made her way back out into the open...a decision she'd end up paying for with her life, but she was so unaware of this as she stepped slowly back into the lobby.
"Hello?" she called out, "Can somebody, like, help me out here?" The noise had stopped, which sent a shiver up Brittany's spine...could there be...? "Impossible...there's no such thing as ghosts..." she thought as she trekked further into the lobby...and unsuspectingly into the clutches of one Paris Persphone. She didn't have time to turn around, much less ask the boy a question before he thrust the knife into the corner of her mouth. Immediately, a searing pain shot straight into where the blade struck, causing her to scream loudly as she turned to see the boy, the blood racing down the side of her face and staining the standard-issue uniform she was wearing.
"Wh-wh...who are you?!?" Brittany shrieked, terrified and shocked by the sudden assault. It was like she was in one of those cheesy horror movies...one where a group of coeds were stuck in an abandoned hotel while trying to escape a knife-wielding madman. But that was the last thing on her mind as she struggled to escape Paris' advance. The knife found its mark after the chilling scream escaped his mouth, and another scream echoed through the lobby as Brittany felt the brunt of the blade. It connected right on target, the girl gagging as blood welled in her throat and esophagus while dropping to her knees and clutching her throat. She tried to utter a protest to him, but it was evident that Paris wanted nothing to do with her as he began slashing, each stroke followed by a high shrill of a scream. Tears began pouring from Brittany's eyes as she spat out more blood, the blouse of her uniform now a deep red.
Now it was a fight for her to at least hang on until someone that could help her arrived, but even if someone was nearby, it was too late for Brittany. Even then, adrenaline flowing rampantly, she struggled to her feet...and just in time to receive the final blow to the chest, landing just above her heart and severing the aorta at that point. As soon as Paris removed the knife, the severely weakened Brittany fell to the floor in a pool of her own blood, now being aided by the fresh wound in her chest as well as the ones in her mouth and throat. How ironic that it would be in what once was a respectable hotel...one that welcomed tourists, many of them wealthy like herself, with welcome arms...that Brittany Ashworth would be done in.
It seemed too early...but maybe she should've known better than to open her mouth in front of someone who wasn't in the mood to put up with it. And Paris did what many a girl at the P.J. Gilroy Academy would have loved to do to her...leave her in a pool of blood. If only she knew that the book she had was one of her favorites...if only she knew not to draw the ire of someone with a knife...if only she knew the key to life would be to befriend those not like her instead of degrading them.
If only she knew...
G16 Status: DECEASED - RIP Brittany Ashworth
((There...that's the official retirement of Brittany Ashworth. Again, if I declare someone to be fair game, let's talk about it first and then go from there...not that I mind having someone (forgive the bad pun) take a stab at it.))
But then she heard something that caught her attention. Brittany turned and began looking around as if to find out where that noise came from. Curiosity, and a bit of anger and desperation getting the best of her, she stepped away from the elevator and made her way back out into the open...a decision she'd end up paying for with her life, but she was so unaware of this as she stepped slowly back into the lobby.
"Hello?" she called out, "Can somebody, like, help me out here?" The noise had stopped, which sent a shiver up Brittany's spine...could there be...? "Impossible...there's no such thing as ghosts..." she thought as she trekked further into the lobby...and unsuspectingly into the clutches of one Paris Persphone. She didn't have time to turn around, much less ask the boy a question before he thrust the knife into the corner of her mouth. Immediately, a searing pain shot straight into where the blade struck, causing her to scream loudly as she turned to see the boy, the blood racing down the side of her face and staining the standard-issue uniform she was wearing.
"Wh-wh...who are you?!?" Brittany shrieked, terrified and shocked by the sudden assault. It was like she was in one of those cheesy horror movies...one where a group of coeds were stuck in an abandoned hotel while trying to escape a knife-wielding madman. But that was the last thing on her mind as she struggled to escape Paris' advance. The knife found its mark after the chilling scream escaped his mouth, and another scream echoed through the lobby as Brittany felt the brunt of the blade. It connected right on target, the girl gagging as blood welled in her throat and esophagus while dropping to her knees and clutching her throat. She tried to utter a protest to him, but it was evident that Paris wanted nothing to do with her as he began slashing, each stroke followed by a high shrill of a scream. Tears began pouring from Brittany's eyes as she spat out more blood, the blouse of her uniform now a deep red.
Now it was a fight for her to at least hang on until someone that could help her arrived, but even if someone was nearby, it was too late for Brittany. Even then, adrenaline flowing rampantly, she struggled to her feet...and just in time to receive the final blow to the chest, landing just above her heart and severing the aorta at that point. As soon as Paris removed the knife, the severely weakened Brittany fell to the floor in a pool of her own blood, now being aided by the fresh wound in her chest as well as the ones in her mouth and throat. How ironic that it would be in what once was a respectable hotel...one that welcomed tourists, many of them wealthy like herself, with welcome arms...that Brittany Ashworth would be done in.
It seemed too early...but maybe she should've known better than to open her mouth in front of someone who wasn't in the mood to put up with it. And Paris did what many a girl at the P.J. Gilroy Academy would have loved to do to her...leave her in a pool of blood. If only she knew that the book she had was one of her favorites...if only she knew not to draw the ire of someone with a knife...if only she knew the key to life would be to befriend those not like her instead of degrading them.
If only she knew...
G16 Status: DECEASED - RIP Brittany Ashworth
((There...that's the official retirement of Brittany Ashworth. Again, if I declare someone to be fair game, let's talk about it first and then go from there...not that I mind having someone (forgive the bad pun) take a stab at it.))
Anna arrived on the scene only seconds after Franco. She had successfully not lost him on the way. She looked at the sight before her and nearly puked. Blood
. Blood
. Blood
.Blood
. That was the only word that registered to her as she observed the scene. She moved so that she was standing directly adjacent to Franco. She looked to the body. Jesus
The face was deformed. It looked as if she had the side of her mouth cut off. How disgusting. She had multiple stab wounds as well. So . Someone killed There were players They were all going to meet the same fate as this poor girl. She couldn't handle that.
"Why would someone do this ? I- I can't believe How could someone..." Her sentence cut off though when she saw Paris. He was shivering. He also looked like he was crying. She of course, had no idea who this was. The only thought that registered was that he had killed this girl. Holy . He'd committed murder
"Why why did you " She finally realized that she too, was in danger and raised the axe protectively. She could do this. This was do or die Anna, you're a survivor.
The face was deformed. It looked as if she had the side of her mouth cut off. How disgusting. She had multiple stab wounds as well. So . Someone killed There were players They were all going to meet the same fate as this poor girl. She couldn't handle that.
"Why would someone do this ? I- I can't believe How could someone..." Her sentence cut off though when she saw Paris. He was shivering. He also looked like he was crying. She of course, had no idea who this was. The only thought that registered was that he had killed this girl. Holy . He'd committed murder
"Why why did you " She finally realized that she too, was in danger and raised the axe protectively. She could do this. This was do or die Anna, you're a survivor.
Paris looked up, his face was red from crying, and his eyes opened with terror at the sight of Francos bazooka and Annas axe. This did not look well. He thought that he would've covered up Brittanys screams, however maybe the death was too gory for them to beleive it was accidental Damn......I'll have to be more careful next time... he thought.
Everything was focused on this. The next few minutes would need dire acting if he wanted to avoid being blown up to smithereens. In his mind he took a deep breath and prepared himself for what might be the longest moment in his life so far. Paris who tryed to stop bawling looked at the group and scuttle back, gripping on his knife. He sccoched himself up against a lounge chair as he was faced with his jury.
"N-No! No please! I didn't mean to k-kill her! I didn't I swear! I was looking for someone tov help me when she suddenly started charging at me. I was so scared I just jammed the knife everywhere.....I was so scared...." he said in a long muffled voice. After he finished his explanation he went back to crying again.
If this didn't work he would be toast, he would have to break into a run and hope to avoid the soaring missles that might pursue. Paris hated the idea of his pretty-self blown up by some idiotic coward, or butchered by some paranoid girl. It was completley against everything he lived for. To die in the hands of a loser.....The very thought made Paris shudder which was a good addition to his act.
"P-Please don't kill m-me...." he managed to make out as he continued his cry fest.
Everything was focused on this. The next few minutes would need dire acting if he wanted to avoid being blown up to smithereens. In his mind he took a deep breath and prepared himself for what might be the longest moment in his life so far. Paris who tryed to stop bawling looked at the group and scuttle back, gripping on his knife. He sccoched himself up against a lounge chair as he was faced with his jury.
"N-No! No please! I didn't mean to k-kill her! I didn't I swear! I was looking for someone tov help me when she suddenly started charging at me. I was so scared I just jammed the knife everywhere.....I was so scared...." he said in a long muffled voice. After he finished his explanation he went back to crying again.
If this didn't work he would be toast, he would have to break into a run and hope to avoid the soaring missles that might pursue. Paris hated the idea of his pretty-self blown up by some idiotic coward, or butchered by some paranoid girl. It was completley against everything he lived for. To die in the hands of a loser.....The very thought made Paris shudder which was a good addition to his act.
"P-Please don't kill m-me...." he managed to make out as he continued his cry fest.
Say goodnight, asshole.
Completely unmoved by the young man's weeping, Franco lifted his grenade launcher to aim it at the boy's head. He wasn't going to get knifed to death, especially not by this sob-fest. Franco began to sweat slightly. He had never fired a gun before, let alone a grenade launcher, and he'd never killed anyone before. This was the first time he had seen a dead body and it shook him to his very core.
Still, the first thing on the mind of Franco Sebberts was Franco Sebberts. He had to protect himself; this Island would chew him up and spit him out if he wasn't looking out for himself.
His finger flexed on the trigger, his eyes narrowed and pupils dilated. A lone bead of sweat dripped down his brow as he tightened his grip on the gun. He was frightened, so very frightened, but at the same time Franco felt a rush over power come over him. Like it was compelling him to embrace his fear and embrace his own wrath. Everything was lost around him. Reality was pulling away, the shaking form of Anna faded away and all that Franco could think about was saving himself.
Moments before a sponge grenade would have collided with the weeping form of Paris Persephone a voice came from the hallway. It was unfamiliar and Franco whipped around to look out into the lobby. He rushed around the corner and forgot all about the young crying boy for a moment.
"Keep an eye on him," Franco muttered to Anna as he moved around the doorway. "I'm going to deal with this guy."
Franco hadn't been listening to a word that the boy had said, but he distinctly heard the words strategy' and talk.' Keeping his grenade launcher gripped tightly in his hands, Franco turned the corner and called out.
"Hello there," Franco kept his voice calm. "I'm Franco Sebberts. You don't have to worry about me, but I think you should come and see this."
His grenade launcher was level with his knees as he motioned for this new contestant to come into the room. Franco's eyes darted about the room. The wallpaper was fading and the room was even stuffier than ever. His eyes narrowed on a white shirt that flapped about from behind a bend in the hallway.
Franco brought his grenade launcher to bear on the young man. "What are you trying to pull?" his eyes darted from the doorway were Anna stood, to the white flag, and than to the young man with his shotgun. "Why don't you lower your weapon and come over here. I'm not exactly... comfortable with a gun to my chin."
Looking back to the hallway in the cluttered hotel lobby, he noted the white flag again. "And you," Franco barked. "Come out where we can see you. We're all friends here, or at least I hope we can be, except for this murderer over here. Care to come over and take a look?"
Franco gestured to the doorway. He held his grenade launcher in one hand. He only intended on shooting one person today...
Completely unmoved by the young man's weeping, Franco lifted his grenade launcher to aim it at the boy's head. He wasn't going to get knifed to death, especially not by this sob-fest. Franco began to sweat slightly. He had never fired a gun before, let alone a grenade launcher, and he'd never killed anyone before. This was the first time he had seen a dead body and it shook him to his very core.
Still, the first thing on the mind of Franco Sebberts was Franco Sebberts. He had to protect himself; this Island would chew him up and spit him out if he wasn't looking out for himself.
His finger flexed on the trigger, his eyes narrowed and pupils dilated. A lone bead of sweat dripped down his brow as he tightened his grip on the gun. He was frightened, so very frightened, but at the same time Franco felt a rush over power come over him. Like it was compelling him to embrace his fear and embrace his own wrath. Everything was lost around him. Reality was pulling away, the shaking form of Anna faded away and all that Franco could think about was saving himself.
Moments before a sponge grenade would have collided with the weeping form of Paris Persephone a voice came from the hallway. It was unfamiliar and Franco whipped around to look out into the lobby. He rushed around the corner and forgot all about the young crying boy for a moment.
"Keep an eye on him," Franco muttered to Anna as he moved around the doorway. "I'm going to deal with this guy."
Franco hadn't been listening to a word that the boy had said, but he distinctly heard the words strategy' and talk.' Keeping his grenade launcher gripped tightly in his hands, Franco turned the corner and called out.
"Hello there," Franco kept his voice calm. "I'm Franco Sebberts. You don't have to worry about me, but I think you should come and see this."
His grenade launcher was level with his knees as he motioned for this new contestant to come into the room. Franco's eyes darted about the room. The wallpaper was fading and the room was even stuffier than ever. His eyes narrowed on a white shirt that flapped about from behind a bend in the hallway.
Franco brought his grenade launcher to bear on the young man. "What are you trying to pull?" his eyes darted from the doorway were Anna stood, to the white flag, and than to the young man with his shotgun. "Why don't you lower your weapon and come over here. I'm not exactly... comfortable with a gun to my chin."
Looking back to the hallway in the cluttered hotel lobby, he noted the white flag again. "And you," Franco barked. "Come out where we can see you. We're all friends here, or at least I hope we can be, except for this murderer over here. Care to come over and take a look?"
Franco gestured to the doorway. He held his grenade launcher in one hand. He only intended on shooting one person today...
Franco raised the bazooka to the trembling boy's head. No.... he... he's just scared, but... he killed... he was scared... he killed.... he was scared... I can't kill him. Anna let her axe fall to her side, this boy was scared like her. he didn't deserve death. Franco told her to watch him as he want to see tjhe now arrival. She walked over to the trambling form of the boy. her eyes held a mixture of empathy and fear. she knelt in front of the boy.
"H-hey... c'mon, don't cry. I'i'll talk to Franco, okay? you can come with us!" she flashed the boy a smile. She reached out her hand and rubbed the boy's head in a motherly way. Yeah, he's just a scared kid. Just like me.
"H-hey... c'mon, don't cry. I'i'll talk to Franco, okay? you can come with us!" she flashed the boy a smile. She reached out her hand and rubbed the boy's head in a motherly way. Yeah, he's just a scared kid. Just like me.
Paris tried to stop crying and he looked up at the comforting Anna. Her face was maternal however she was shocked and nervous as well as she tryed to comfort him. Stupid girl, if she only knew he was using them just as a barrier. Just incase any lunatic or loser wanted to fight them for some reason. If and when that happeneds he would get away from the group of morons as they get slaughtered to death.
The plan was perfect in his head. However everything started to fall in place, still he made a mental note that he needed to plan it more carefully and be more precise in his actions next time. he can't shake nervously and be paranoid about the whole thing, it would only mess things up.
The Gossip King gave Anna a hug and started crying some more. Now all thats left was for Anna to convince Franco and then hes set. It really is pathetic, how people are such saps like this. Franco, the guy who ia trying to be a leader and salvage himself. Please, he's nothing but a cowardly dog with his tail between his legs. Anna was nothing but a sentimental fool. The two of them were idiots, idiots were much more easy to manipulate they couldn't compare to his ideal mind.
Paris suddenly noticed another voice going on in the lobby. The commotion started to rise as it seemed two others have infiltrated the hotel and encountered the merry little group stationed there. Although the boy focused on this he still couldn't help but smile inside his head. The feeling of death and killing those who were unimportant. It was the same kind of feeling when he completley lashed out at Adam. He longed to have felt it again since that time and now he knows what exactly triggers it.
However another thing spatrked up inside his mind. With everything good there has to be bad sides. Paris didn't want to stick around with this bunch of losers and have to act goody goody. It'd make him die of illness. Acting is all good and fine but pretending to be a sobbing fag can be very irritating. Especially if he had to take orders from Franco; Paris took orders from noone.
As Paris hugged Anna for a bit he let go of her and quickly grabbed the boloknife he set beside him and put it too Annas neck. Twisting her body he put the knife under her chin and forced her to stand up when he did. The Gossip King his arm around Annas waist binding both of her arms. "I didn't want to stick around anyway." he whispered in her ear. The boy was smiling at the fact that he had gotten the upper hand of the situation.
"Now lets go unless you want to end up like her." he whispered making a motion with his knife toward Brittany Ashworths body. Paris didn't plan on killing Anna she could be used as a shield or a way to escape out of other finite situations. He could kill Anna later when her body was too injured to keep up with his......traveling act.
The plan was perfect in his head. However everything started to fall in place, still he made a mental note that he needed to plan it more carefully and be more precise in his actions next time. he can't shake nervously and be paranoid about the whole thing, it would only mess things up.
The Gossip King gave Anna a hug and started crying some more. Now all thats left was for Anna to convince Franco and then hes set. It really is pathetic, how people are such saps like this. Franco, the guy who ia trying to be a leader and salvage himself. Please, he's nothing but a cowardly dog with his tail between his legs. Anna was nothing but a sentimental fool. The two of them were idiots, idiots were much more easy to manipulate they couldn't compare to his ideal mind.
Paris suddenly noticed another voice going on in the lobby. The commotion started to rise as it seemed two others have infiltrated the hotel and encountered the merry little group stationed there. Although the boy focused on this he still couldn't help but smile inside his head. The feeling of death and killing those who were unimportant. It was the same kind of feeling when he completley lashed out at Adam. He longed to have felt it again since that time and now he knows what exactly triggers it.
However another thing spatrked up inside his mind. With everything good there has to be bad sides. Paris didn't want to stick around with this bunch of losers and have to act goody goody. It'd make him die of illness. Acting is all good and fine but pretending to be a sobbing fag can be very irritating. Especially if he had to take orders from Franco; Paris took orders from noone.
As Paris hugged Anna for a bit he let go of her and quickly grabbed the boloknife he set beside him and put it too Annas neck. Twisting her body he put the knife under her chin and forced her to stand up when he did. The Gossip King his arm around Annas waist binding both of her arms. "I didn't want to stick around anyway." he whispered in her ear. The boy was smiling at the fact that he had gotten the upper hand of the situation.
"Now lets go unless you want to end up like her." he whispered making a motion with his knife toward Brittany Ashworths body. Paris didn't plan on killing Anna she could be used as a shield or a way to escape out of other finite situations. He could kill Anna later when her body was too injured to keep up with his......traveling act.