Don't mind me, I'll just be over here

[Ohm]

((B085: Start))

The beginning of his time here was a blur for Brandon. There might have been tears, there might have been screams, cursing, ranting. Many things could have occured in this time.

He’d like to remember it as him calmly grabbing his bag and walking with a map looking for some houses. Reality was quite different.

Brandon sprinted as he looked for some housing. Anywhere would be nice so he could squat down and… do something! Make an ambush point? He got a good weapon for that. Nononononono, what'd he do if they had a gun? He’d be fucked in that case!

When he arrived at the houses with their colors and broken boards, he thoughts he’d get a break.

And then he stopped dead in his tracks as fucking Felix Rees popped into view and managed to get to it before him and he darted away from the area and towards the jungle as he clung to the other side of a tree.

His wide eyes stared out as he prayed that he didn’t get spotted as he was. Felix had opened the door and a girl stood on the other side. He couldn’t tell who it was. He laid his head against it and held his breath.

They didn’t and he exhaled in relief. And then realised something terrible.

He’d managed to get himself stuck. His foot had gotten stuck against something in the ground. First he tried to yank it out, but that didn't work. He gripped his hands around as he yanked. Didn’t work either.

Soon noises would emerge from the houses. Bad ones. People yelling. His heart raced as he listened carefully and straightened himself up against the tree.

The noises would stop and with a peek he could see people leave. His heart would go back to normal and he felt like he could breathe and then they would start up again. More people outside the house. If he died of a heart attack because of this, he was going to haunt these fuckers.

Luckily those guys didn’t seem to want to kill each other which gave Brandon the time to slip back down and try and get his foot back out and of course there’s more footsteps coming as he shoot up again with a peek.

Tyrell something. Tall, dressed like a weirdo and was currently covered in blood from face to toe.

Gunshots and screams were all the info he needed to know when to keep his head down.

So he did.

For a while anyway. He finally managed to get himself loose at some point after dark. He had heard footsteps darting away earlier and none more since. For a second Brandon finally felt like he was safe.

Safety that he dashed not long after, curiosity took him close to the door and he saw what was there. Only a glimpse was enough for him.

He snuck away not long after. More footsteps in the distance and he wasn’t ready to face someone, anyone yet. Not after what he’d heard.

Sleep didn’t follow. His mind glazed over the second day like he was on autopilot. Snippets played in his mind.

There was a lighthouse. Four people dead. He walked up and saw what remained of them. Phillip, Mikki, Terra and Bree. No one he was particularly close to, but dead nonetheless. Bullet casings everywhere with the holes around to demonstrate where they had gone. There was nothing left to take.

He walked away with his own weapon in hand now.

There was an announcement, he tried to commit names to memory, but it was failing him. Instead bodies from earlier would pop in to say hello

A jungle he traversed with annoying plants getting in the way of his walking. There was a path through that he didn’t follow. Brandon wasn’t taking the chance.

So far no one had seen him. And it had kept him safe, judging by the sounds and what he’d seen.

He’d been successful so far, but would he be forever? There was one guy in this that had done that right? He’d seen it mentioned on 4chan when people really wanted to get edgy and shit. Snippets here and there getting linked. Joey...something...Grey, that was it. He was infamous there, specially when they mentioned him during the Survivor threads.

He’d just have to keep it up.

But for how long? That was a week right? Could he do it? No contact for that long?

Brandon hoped so. It’d be better to be a hermit than crazy like his classmates has turned into.

Groggily he continued his own path through the jungle. There was one he walked past lying on the ground. He couldn’t recognise her in her current state.

Maybe it was better that way.

((Brandon Murphy continued in Staring over Wonderland Wood's))