Optimism killed the cat

[Swoosh*]

((I do this, like I said, with Rob's full permission. Coming from The Warehouse))

((Duncan continued from: A Planning of a Strategy))

Angharad was jogging along.

She had been running since she had left the warehouse, but now she was beginning to get tired. It seemed that all she did on the island was run at the lightest hint of confrontation, and now it was starting to get to her. Her muscles ached, and her stomach was in pain. Her little scene at the warehouse had seemed to have hardened her resolve to play the game, and as she made her way across the island, she briefly wondered whether her shot had actually killed the boy with the motorbike or not. Probably not, she figured. After all, she wasn't exactly calm when she shot. But still, it had reinforced her 'game tactics', and that was all that mattered.

Wincing as she jogged (running took up too much energy, and was far too painful), she saw the familiar sight of the Lighthouse looming over her. Her thoughts flashed back to the last time that she was here; back then, she had a companion... wasn't it funny? She thought of it as 'back then', but in actual fact it was only a matter of hours.

As she got closer and closer to the Lighthouse entrance, she wondered where Duncan was now. If he was still alive, even. A big guy like him, she figured he'd be OK on his own.

At least, for now...

Opening the door with a creak, the familiar scent of blood caught her attention immediately. Knowing there were bodies scattered all across the building, she braced herself and walked in, checking that the coast was clear before she closed the door behind her. It was then that she heard the voice.

"Hello? Who's there?"

Angharad froze, her back against the door, gun gripped tightly in her hand. A lot of use this will do now, when it's empty... So someone was here... but, was it her imagination, or did that sound a little bit like-

"Angharad! It's you!" Duncan's figure appeared at the top of the stairs, looking down at her, frisbee clutched in his hand like a shield. Glancing up, she didn't know whether to feel relieved or worried at his presence. Sure, it was good that she hadn't just run into a 'player', but how pleased would Duncan be to see her, after she just abandoned him? Cautiously, she managed a "hey..."

"So you decided to come back, huh?" Duncan raised his eyebrows.
"Yeah... I guess so. Is that a bad thing?" she asked.
"No, actually, it's great; I could use your help with something," he replied. "Come up here, I'll show you." He walked off out of view, presumably into the room they had spent time planning their escape before.

Quite the position you've found yourself in...

Should she go upstairs? Maybe he was taking her upstairs to kill her; maybe there was someone else upstairs and they were both going to kill her. Angharad didn't see either of these two possibilities happening; Duncan didn't seem smart enough to concoct an idea like that.

But I sure as hell am... Smiling to herself, she walked upstairs, putting her unloaded gun back in her rucksack. Duncan was waiting for her in the room with a sheet of paper in front of him. Obviously he had ditched the discreet...

"I've managed to come up with this, I really think it could work... read it," he said, offering her the paper.

Oh, Duncan. You really are naive. You can plan until the cows come home, but there's no way of getting off this island without... without playing. It's about time you realised that, and give this up.

I can help with that.

She glanced at the paper. It had a lot of scribbles and writing on it, obviously Duncan had been working on nothing else since she left. Looking up at Duncan, she smiled briefly.

"And you think this will work?" she said, quietly.
He shrugged.
"Well, I'm not 100% sure, but I think it's worth a shot!" he answered.
Angharad looked down at the floor.
"You think any of this will work? I mean, seriously. This plan looks solid and all, but the second they find out what we're up to..." Angharad trailed off. Duncan looked at her seriously, but Angharad continued.
"We have no choice but to play, and I don't want to play... and I can't kill anyone, I just can't!" her voice started to wobble now. You're just too good, girl... too good. "So I'm going to die on this island. I'm going to be killed, and I'll never see my friends or family again... or Reese..."

At this, she flung herself at Duncan's chest and began to sob loudly. Anyone watching objectively would perhaps say that Angharad's little scene was over-dramatic, but Duncan appeared to be at a loss of things to say. He patted her on the shoulder awkwardly.

"No... come on... we're gonna get out of here..." he managed to mumble.

No, boyo. You're wrong about that.

Her head still buried in his chest, she brought up her knee with a strike to his groin. It was a cheap shot, but Angharad had immediately discarded any notions of being able to hurt Duncan with physical force; she was a girl and didn't have anytihng in the way of strength, and Duncan... Duncan was huge.

Duncan let out a howl of pain and dropped to the floor, bent over. Standing over him, Angharad smiled.

"No, Duncan. You're wrong. You're not even gonna make it out of this room."

She flung her foot at his stomach, imagining it to be a rugby ball. Duncan let out another yelp, but Angharad hadn't finished. She kicked him in the stomach once more, causing him to roll on the floor now, clutching his stomach in agony.

Why wasn't he doing anything? Fighting back? She hadn't expected it to be so easy... maybe Duncan had just finally given up.

Swinging her foot back for the third time, she now aimed for his head. Her trainer connected with his nose, and a sickening crunch suggested that his nose (or what was now left of it) had been smashed. Duncan's eyes started to look drowsy now, maybe he was losing conciousness. But Angharad kept going... her leg muscles were in agony but she ignored it...

I'm going to win... I'm not going to let anyone push me around... I control how this game turns out. I'm going to win and go home!

After a while, she stopped kicking. Her once white trainers were covered in deep red, and Duncan's face was a disfigured bloody mess, his nose completely shattered and his eyes bulging. Satisfied he was dead, Angharad ceased her kicking and stepped back, as if to admire her work.

Not bad for a first try. Practice will make perfect...

She glanced at the piece of paper, still in her hand. Duncan had given this to her moments ago. Smirking, she placed it back down on Duncan's hand, the palm open and motionless.

Was she supposed to feel different now? Killing people's supposed to change you... but Angharad felt no different.

One down... "Sorry. It really wouldn't have worked," she said, looking down at the corpse of her former ally.

As she turned to leave, she caught sight of the luridly yellow frisbee Duncan had been holding, his designated weapon. It was if they almost wanted him to be killed... she thought with mild amusement, as she picked it up and gave it a quick glance over. Smiling, she unzipped her rucksack and swapped the frisbee for her gun. With one final look at her victim, she closed the door on him for the second time, and walked down the stairs out of the Lighthouse.

BOY # 53- DUNCAN WRIGHT - DEAD

((MAN, that was fun! I can see why people here like to write death posts... continued in The morning after the night before- Bathroom Facility))