Revelations.

[Cactus]

((Continued from: The Original Fire has Died and Gone))

Rejected...since day one
My name is...bastard son
I've been damned...so many times I've lost count!

As he strode back into the waterfall, Adam Dodd sighed the sigh of a man who was really tired of sighing. Since the SOTF competition had begun, Adam had found himself doing several things almost incessantly, almost as though they were as relevant as breathing to him. And in a sense, they were.

Sighing had just seemed to become the natural way that he could show how dismayed with a certain situation that he truly was. It sure beat crying about things, and it took far less energy than exploding in a rage (which he'd done several times, but had always felt drained afterwards). As such, he generally stuck to just sighing to convey his dismay. It worked for him, and he saw no reason to change it.

As well, the word 'fuck' had been a useful tool that had served him quite well. If he was angry, he could just scream 'fuck this' or 'fuck you'. He could use it to describe his situation: 'that was fucked, man', or 'it was crazy as fuck'. He could use it in place of a name: 'Cody Jenson, that fucker' and he could use it to create brand new things to call people: 'fuckwit, fuckshit, fuckstick, fuckknob, fuckjob' and so on. He was glad that some little kid had used the word on the playground in grade 1, and he had to admit that saying 'diddly' or some other combination of a TBS Superstation censor and Ned Flanders just wasn't as potent. Sure, it gave him the reputation of having a dirty mouth, but in SOTF, what did it matter?

So to find himself back at the waterfall again, he sighed, and cursed to thimself; using only a simple "fuck" this time, feeling chagrinned to find himself back at the waterfall that he'd been at only hours before. He'd met Drew Lynn at that point, and while he'd still been quite shellshocked from...'the incident' as he had found himself referring to it, he still managed to remember most of the conversation, albeit through a haze. He remembered telling Drew that if they met again, it'd likely be under different circumstances, and he'd left. But again, here he was, standing before the same lovely sight that he'd seen before, only now he was fully able to appreciate it.

Blue collar...working man
Devises...masterplan
Bi-polar...with a mental side arm

"Sights like this...they're never meant to be desecrated like you've done here, Danya. This waterfall could've been - hell, it probably was something wonderful once. I bet that kids came here to look at it, teenagers came here to make out, and people just came here to reflect upon life, and how important it is. Not to turn the water red and drown your friends in it."

In the time since 'the incident', Adam had found himself increasingly irritated, and since there was nobody travelling with him, nobody to really talk to, Adam had decided that since there were cameras and microphones everywhere, he'd just have a conversation with Danya. Odds are that he was probably listening at some point, and who knew? Maybe he'd even respond once or twice. Of course, in the event that he ever did, Adam knew that he'd probably just curse the man out as well as he knew how, even though it might be a valuable opportunity to get information from him.

What good'll information do me, though, if I end up dead sooner than later? Suppose I find out his motivation, and then I die. What good would it be for?

Shaking his head, he walked over to a relatively flat rock that bordered the waterfall and put his pack down. He needed to rest, since he'd been on his feet for god-knows-how long. As his bottom hit the flat surface of the rock, he sighed audibly, this time in relief, as opposed to dismay. He hadn't sat down for awhile, and he definitely needed a bit of a rest, as well as a redressing of his wounds. Some of the bandages hadn't been changed in more than the usual reccommended time, and he fully intended on surviving as long as humanly possible.

I'm sick and I'm twisted
I'm broken you can't fix it
Don't make me, cause I'll do it
Red button and we'll all go

As he reached into his bag and pulled out the first aid kit that he'd gotten from Hawley way back before the boy had died, he recalled the many promises that he'd made to people along the way. He'd promised Andrew that they'd meet up. They did, but his best friend had been a corpse when they had. He'd promised Madelaine, Amanda, and David that he'd get them out alive. Not only had he failed miserably on that, he'd let Madelaine get raped. He'd promised Amanda that he would watch out for her, and he'd let her down too. There was only two promises that he'd made over and over, and to see if he could keep them was something that he wasn't sure about yet. In fact, it was one of the main forces that was driving him. The promise that he'd made to find and kill Cody Jenson, and the promise that he'd made to Danya that Adam would be the last person standing, and that he'd kill him, too. It was an awful lot of killing for a sixteen year old boy, and Adam'd be damned if he didn't admit to himself that he felt a hell of a lot older than his years, especially after this experience.

As he removed the bandages from his body and began to replace them with new ones (the ones that covered his older injuries stinging the most), he did a quick catalogue of all the times that he'd been injured. Surprisingly, he'd managed to get through it all without real serious internal injuries. He'd smashed his head on a rock back when Hawley and him had been attacked in the Lighthouse, but all that he'd recieved from it was a bruise. He'd done pretty well up until the encounter with Blaine Eno, when he'd recieved a nasty gash on his left arm, courtesy of Blaine's handaxe. He'd managed to avoid serious injury until he'd had to pull fishhooks out from his left hand that Lamika had attacked him with. He'd been shot with a tranquillizer dart and had wandered around hazily for a bit until he'd passed out, woken up, and been cared for by Cody Jenson (of all people). He'd left, and had then met up with Peri Barclay, who'd shot him in the shoulder, the bullet leaving essentially a flesh wound. He'd later been raped by Kaige, which had been more of a mental wound than a physical one - though she'd obliged him with a memento of the attack when she'd shot and destroyed his left ear. Grimacing as he poured some more rubbing alcohol on the ear to keep it clean, he looked down at the fresh bandages that he'd applied while he'd thought about his wounds. Not as many as he'd figured, but they all told a story.

Adam was about to put away the first aid kit when he spotted something out of the corner of his eye, and hesitated.

What had it been that he'd said...? I can't remember...or can I?

~~~

Though he glanced over to where he had seen Amanda wonder toward when her voice filled the air, he sighing lightly as he called out today was just turning into a busy day for him. But glancing toward Madelaine he figured it be a better time than ever for the girls to learn some first aid.

“Amanda what’s wrong over there?” Hawley called out, grabbing at the shirt he had torn up before with Alan pulling another string of fabric loose, as he looked over at Adam while doing this.

“Morphine should be kicking in at any time, I just ask that when you do start feeling it. Please don’t jump up thinking you can take on the world, because you will… so try to keep clam. And I hope you don’t mind the stitches are going to be bright pink.”

Adam winced as Hawley stuck him in the neck with the needle. He HATED needles. As Hawley removed the syringe, however, Adam couldn't help but take a look down at the nasty gash in his arm. It was soaked with blood and looked pretty deep. He winced.

"Damnit, Hawley...I hope you know what you're doing, bro..."

~~~

The little bottle labelled 'Morphine' was still full, and Adam had to admit to himself that his wounds still hurt like hell, and while he'd managed to get used to the pain, it was starting to give him a bit of a headache - the dull throb of pain, primarily on the left side of his body. Recalling the feeling that he'd had when Hawley had given him a shot of Morphine, like someone had taken his pain receptors and just turned them off, Adam considered shooting himself up with the morphine. The problem was - too much, and he'd pass out. Too little, and it probably wouldn't work properly. Frowning, he carefully weighed the pros and cons. If it worked, he might be able to clear his head, and his mind wouldn't be so focused on the wounds and the pain that surged within him - both mental and physical. However, as he'd thought just seconds before - if he messed it up, it could hinder him more than help him.

Adam stared at the bottle for maybe a minute, then made up his mind. Grabbing it, he poked the last needle through the top of the bottle, drained what looked to be a median amount into the needle, and, grimacing, gave himself the shot.

Into the river below...I'm running from the inferno...
They'll think I'm insane but you'll all know my name!
Into the river below...I'm running from the inferno...
I'll take all the blame, the front page and the fame!

As had happened before, Adam felt his pain receptors go numb to the pain that he'd been feeling before. He still felt a knot in his stomach from thinking about his lost friends, and 'the incident', but for the first time in awhile, his body felt as though it were whole, clean, and unaffected. Feeling his mind start to slip a little, somewhat like it had before, at the river, Adam shook his head a little bit.

"C'mon...gotta keep this shit together...s'like, the fuckin' Adam show around here...directed, produced, written, fuckin'...chorieographed, and starring Adam Dodd. Damn, now that's talent. Y'hear that, Danya? I bet that whatever ... channel, or webcast you have me on gets better ratings than your...fucking announcements. Ya douchebag of a bitchstick. No...not a fish-stick. A bitch-stick. Worrrrd." Adam shook his head, trying to dismiss the dopey effects of the morphine.

"Damn, wasn't I supposed to be keeping it together? Whew, that focus...it just ain't happenin'...just like you gettin' any in your marriage, Danny, it just ain't happenin'! Just like Hudson said in Aliens...GAME OVER, MAN! Heh...betchya thought I was gonna say 'this ain't happenin' again, didn'tcha? I'm a better survivor than you'd ever be, Danya. In fact, I'd bet that you'd be voted out first. If...of course, this were Survivor. Y'know, the reality show? Hmmm...I s'pose it's kinda like a reality show. Certainly a real fucking shame that all my friends are dead. So maybe not a reality show. A 'real-fucking-shame-ity' show. Heh. Shame-ity. See Danya? That's why I get better ratings. 'Cuz just like Shakespeare, I make up new words, and yo' ass ain't got nuthin' on that, 'foo. An' I'll channel Mr. T if I want to, bitch. I pity 'da Danya-'foo who pisses off Adam Dodd. Heh. If I were your neighbour, I'd put a fucking firecracker in your mailbox, you big plastic...Cock-knocker. Y'know, like in that Kevin Smith movie."

Occasionally through his preamble, Adam would shake his head, as though trying to sort himself out. After he finished his last sentence, he put his head down and closed his eyes, concentrating hard, trying to focus himself. After several seconds, though, he looked right up at the camera, and with a deadpan expression, said one simple sentence.

"You don't fuck with the Jedi Master, son."

As he said that, he broke out into giggles, but then put his head down and attempted to focus again.

Contraption...made up of
Nuts and bolts...creates the
New monster...to burn your family tree down!

Five or ten minutes passed, and Adam had seemingly got a handle on the blurriness that had preceeded over his mind. Seeming to have his thoughts in order, he finally rose his head, eyes still shut. It seemed as though he was going to be okay. Slowly opening his eyes, he threw himself back with a start as he saw a figure standing in front of him. The pistol came out of his pocket so quickly that he hardly felt himself taking it out, but when he saw who it was, he relaxed.

"Oh, it's just you. You sure you're really dead, or are you just sayin' that? I'm seriously beginning to wonder."

In front of him stood Andrew Lipson, minus wheelchair, actually leaning against a rock, picking his teeth with a toothpick. At Adam's question, the boy grinned, and shrugged.

"Well what d'you think, bro? Did I really die on that beach, or should I win a Best Actor Oscar for my wonderful performance? Nah, I'm really dead. I mean, c'mon, man."

Adam shrugged and rubbed his temples. "Well come on, dude. You keep, like...popping up all over the fucking place, and last I heard, you died on day two, or some shit like that."

Andrew shrugged again. "Well, let's just say that my being here either has a lot to do with the supernatural, or perhaps it's your little tendancy to shoot yourself up with drugs now and again. Y'know, that's an unhealthy habit, eh?"

"Oh, come on! First off, two of the times, it was morphine, which is a legal drug, by the way. There's nothing wrong with taking it for medicinal uses - which is what I'm doing. And it's not like I stabbed MYSELF in the neck with a tranquilizer dart."

Andrew nodded. "Point well taken. So how're you holding up, bro?"

"I got raped and the bitch didn't even have the good manners to kill me, but just shot my ear off, how the fuck do you think I'm feeling, dude?" Adam had hesitated before answering, but when he did, it came out strained, the memory obviously evoking pain.

"Yeah, we-er...I, uh, saw that."

"We? What do you mean, we?"

"Well, uh..."

Andrew was cut off by the loudspeakers coming to life, signifying that Danya was about to make another announcement. Adam's eyebrow lifted, aware that it wasn't night, nor morning, so it must be something special for him to make one now.

Tick-tocking...times up now
Split second...the world frowns
Lonely heart...never had nobody!

As he listened to the announcement, Adam found the colour draining from his face as he listened to all the killing that had been done. No...it wasn't the killing, it was more the numbers that Danya was giving out.

One hundred and nineteen people have died? What kind of sick fucking joke is this? How many kids are in this thing in total?

Of course, as fate would allow, Adam got his answer real soon afterwards. When Danya started going on about the final four, Adam scowled, listening to Danya mock the fact that he'd been raped, and even acknowledge with a boatload of sarcasm all of the taunting that he'd done. His face turned red with shame as Danya ridiculed him, but then his expression turned to intrigue as he gave them all their final instructions. His expression took one more final turn as Danya announced the location of their final battleground. It'd be the one place on the island that Adam had refused to ever return to. The one place that Adam had never cared to ever step foot in again.

The River.

Face falling, Adam's head fell into his hands as he sighed with anxiety. The River. The loudspeaker crackled and died as Danya finished his spiel, telling them all that they had an hour and a half to get there. Sighing, Adam looked up at his dead friend.

"Could it have been anywhere but the fucking River...?"

Andrew's expression was one of pity. "Yeah, man...I know...that's...what I was going to tell you. I knew what he'd planned, and so...I figured that you'd probably need...a friend...or a few of them..."

Adam nodded, but then looked at Andrew with a strange expression. "A few of...?"

"You didn't seriously think that we were going to let LIPSON have all the fun, did you?"

A new voice cut Adam off, and he instantly spun to face the newcomer, hardly believing his eyes. There was no way that what was happening should have, or could have been happening, but it was - somehow.

Before him stood Madelaine Shirohara.

Adam found himself at a complete loss. He'd hallucinated Lipson before, and he supposed that it made sense. They'd been friends since they'd been little, and Adam had known him well. But Madelaine, he'd only met here, on the island. She caught his gape-mouthed stare, and smiled at him. It was a friendly smile, and it was somewhat of a put-on. Walking over to the boy, she extended her hand, which Adam took somewhat hesitantly. Pulling himself to his feet, he looked at his two dead friends, and then at Madelaine, who stood in front of him. To his surprise, the dead girl, the apparition gave him a hug. And damned, if it didn't feel like he were hugging a living person. Madelaine's emotions betrayed her, and a tear fell down her face.

"I am so sorry that...it happened to you..."

At her words, Adam's stony visage gave way, and his eyes watered up a little as well. He shook his head at the girl, and covered his mouth with his hand.

"No, no, no, Madelaine. Don't be sorry. If...if I can pull any silver lining from that horrible experience, it was that...I felt more than ever that you deserve some fucking vengeance, and I'll be damned if I might still be able to give you some."

Madelaine smiled a sad little smile, and moved away from him after giving him a pat on the shoulder. "Just don't forget about who you are, Adam. Vengeance is unbecoming of you. I appreciate what you're trying to do, but ...just make sure that you don't hurt yourself more by getting that vengeance. If you can remember who you are, you'll remember us, you'll remember who we were - because that was why we all trusted you so much, Adam. Because of who you are. Don't lose that."

Adam nodded his head weakly, her words hit a chord with him. She was entirely correct. He'd been so fixated on his quest for revenge that he'd forgotten himself. He'd started out as a happy-go-lucky guy who would never hurt anyone. Now, he was almost a different person. Bitter, paranoid, and fixated on revenge. There was still something inside of him that was a remnant of that person, but...as the days went by, it was growing weaker, and weaker. Madelaine was right. More than anything, he needed to protect that. As Madelaine stepped away and bumped into Andrew, giving him a small shove, Adam turned around and almost himself bumped into Hawley Faust, who was inspecting the contents of Adam's pack. Again, Adam jumped a mile, almost as though he'd seen a ghost.

Who the fuck am I kidding, though? I haven't seen a ghost - I've seen three! Feel like fucking Ebenezer Scrooge!

I'm sick and I'm twisted
I'm broken you can't fix it
Don't make me, cause I'll do it
Red button and we'll all go

"H-Hawley?"

The redhead looked up with a surprised expression on his face, as though he was more surprised to see Adam than vice-versa.

"Oi...Adam, you kept all of the medical stuff."

Still unbelieving his eyes, he murmured back a response.

"Yeah, I'm a bit of a pack-rat. What can you do...Hawley, you're dead TOO."

Shrugging lightly, Hawley stepped away from the pack and began to look over Adam's bandages.

"I'd rather you not remind me - it's really not the worst thing in the world, but you know, I'd rather not be reminded of it. I'm admittedly impressed at how you've actually changed your bandages. Didn't think you'd remember to do it."

Adam smiled a little smile, feeling a swell of pride.

"Well, I don't feel like dying anytime soon, you know?"

"Better fuckin' keep it that way, bro!" Lipson called out from behind him.

Hawley smirked a little, and adjusted his glasses as he wandered over to the other three. Curiously enough, to Adam, at least, he slid his arm around Madelaine...presumably to comfort her? He didn't know.

"She said it best, Adam. Try not to give up, mm? We're kind of ...counting on you."

"You're really close, too."

The new voice was the one that secretly, ever since he'd started...hallucinating his deceased friends that he'd wanted to hear most of all. Spinning around, he spun right into the face of his dead girlfriend, Amanda Jones.

"Amanda...?"

The girl's face was something that made Adam so happy to see, and it was almost as though it were Christmas, and Santa Claus had revived the people who meant the most to him. It would be the best fucking gift that Adam had ever seen. Staring into his late girlfriend's face, he just didn't know what to say. Trying to stammer out something, all he could get out was "I'm so fucking sorry" before Amanda interrupted him.

"Look, Adam. You can't keep going around blaming yourself for things that you just don't have any control over. You think that I don't know that you've been beating yourself up the whole time for me getting killed? It wasn't your fault, not even at all. It was actually a stray bullet's fault, and honestly, if I hadn't been traipsing through the bushes without even really caring what was going on around me, I probably would've lasted a little longer. But that's really neither here nor there, Adam. The important thing is that you've got to keep faith in yourself. I know you're getting really depressed. But you're so close, Adam. There's four left. Three people, including yourself. And as much as I'd like to see you again soon..." She paused, and smiled a sad smile. "...I'm really hoping that I don't. I'll always be with you, Adam, as cliched as that sounds. As long as you remember us, then you'll be okay, because we'll be with you, too. Just...don't dwell on the past, because if you get out of here, you'll have your whole future ahead of you...which is a lot more than any of us can say."

Adam just looked at her, overcome by emotion, unable to speak or say anything back to her. She recognized this, and put her hand on his face, rubbing his cheek.

"I love you, Adam. With any luck, I'll be seeing you a lot later than sooner."

Stepping back from Adam, Amanda walked over to where the other three were standing, and Lipson then spoke up again.

"Well, bro...I guess our little 'morale-boosting party' is over...I hope that you just go out there, do your best, and be yourself, and that in the end, you come out winning. I mean, fuck, bro...I've got money riding on you...hehe. Peace out, man. Like Amanda said...see you on the flip side...but hopefully not too soon, you know?"

Giving Adam a thumbs up was the last thing that Adam was able to take as he broke down into tears, all of his emotions running through him furiously, as furiously as they had when he'd awoken on the island and been afraid for his life for the very first time. Eyes shut as the tears fell down his face, he only said one thing.

"I miss you guys."

Into the river below...I'm running from the inferno...
They'll think I'm insane but you'll all know my name!
Into the river below...I'm running from the inferno...
I'll take all the blame, the front page and the fame!

It was true. More than anything, Adam missed his dead friends. His family, he knew, was safe and sound at home, probably worried sick about him, probably going through some form of depression or post-traumatic stress disorder, waiting for news on what his fate was. But his friends...they were gone, and never coming back. Opening his eyes to say one final thing to them, he found that once again, he sat alone in the Waterfall, with only the sound of the rushing water to keep him company. The morphine had kicked in nicely, and the dizzying feeling he'd had was gone. But now, he was truly alone.

Walking over to his pack, he sat down and decided to do an inventory of what he had. A quick one, of course, especially being as he only had an hour and a half to make it to the river. As he sorted through his guns, knives, and swords, Adam thought about how he felt. He felt a little different, that much was certain. He'd walked into the Waterfall feeling ashamed, angry, betrayed, vengeful, and dull. He was now feeling things he hadn't felt in days - sadness, hope, and a strange sense of energy that he somehow attributed to adrenaline. His hallucinations had been right. It was the final four. He was so close - and he was amazed that it had actually arrived. He'd managed to make it this far, and now the end was finally at hand. Opting to lighten his bag a little, he tossed most of the non-essential items that he was carrying. That meant that the items in the first aid kit that he wouldn't use, like the band-aids, the box for the kit itself, and the aloe vera lotion were left behind. Also left behind was six or seven tins of crackers that he'd accumulated, and a few of the bottles of water. Finally, he took out the instruction manual that he'd recieved at the beginning of the game, and couldn't help but smile. The manual had many pages missing, and Adam grinned as he remembered why. Until he'd found the washroom, and after it'd become a danger zone, he'd been using it as toilet paper.

"I guess it's my own personal way of shitting on Danya and his game."

Leaving the booklet behind, he figured that he probably wouldn't need it for much longer. If the battle was as quick as most of the others were, he'd probably either be on his way out or dead before he knew it.

I'll take all the blame
The front page and the fame
Into the river below
Into the river below
Into the river below
Into the river below

Gathering everything else up, pistols in his pockets, shotgun at the ready, Uzi hanging from his side, and the hidden knife in his shoe, he slung his pack over his back, and stood up, looking at the waterfall again. He again couldn't help but be reminded of how beautiful a sight that it really was.

If I were to die looking at this, I guess I wouldn't feel all that badly...

Though, dying was; he thought for the unpteenth time, not on his priority list.

So here he was, standing before the waterfall. Adam Dodd, one member of the final four competitors in Survival of the Fittest. Here he was, and it was time to fight his final battle. Surprisingly, he felt good. If he was going to die, if he was going to go out, he'd pretty much go out the same way that he came in - same clothes, missing an ear here and there, but mainly the same. Scared, but determined to escape somehow. Though now, he knew. There were two ways to escape. One involved winning and being the last person standing.

The other involved death.

Adam definitely favoured the one over the other, and as he walked away from the waterfall, he couldn't help but stop and look right into one of the cameras that had been monitoring him the entire time. Smiling, he shrugged, and looked into it once more. Truthfully, he felt like he were high, and that was very likely the case, but he didn't care. He felt alive once again, almost as though he were dead, and while he knew the feeling would wear off soon, he would treasure it while he still had it.

"So I bet right about now, you're probably thinking that I'm fuckin' nuts, right Danya? Talking to myself - if I was even talking to myself and was actually hallucinating? Well, that's okay, man. Fact is, yeah, you've probably managed to drive me fucking crazy. I've killed ten people and pretty much everyone I know is dead. But wow, how about that - I actually MADE it to the final four. And dude, if you aren't somewhat ...annoyed at that, then you're lying to yourself. I've made you a promise - hell, it's more of a guarantee, really, that I'm going to win, and I'm going to kill you. Now, I know I haven't been the best at keeping my promises, but y'know...I really think that this one is one that I'm MEANT to keep. I know you're probably just fuckin' with me, putting the end in the River. But that's fine. It's actually going to help me. Yeah, I know. Crazy, isn't it? But hey...I'll have my friends with me. What is it that they say - live together, die alone? Well, Danny...I'm not alone. So...I'm not dying. You'd better put the kettle on, you fucking son of a bitch, because guess who's comin' to dinner?"

Into the river below...I'm running from the inferno...
They'll think I'm insane but you'll all know my name!
Into the river below...I'm running from the inferno...
I'll take all the blame, the front page and the fame!

And so, with one final rant, Adam Dodd stepped away from the waterfall. He tried to take solace in the fact that he was as ready as he could ever be, and that the feelings inside of him were actually feeling good, but he refused to even try and fool himself. The battle ahead would be hard, and in all likelihood, he probably wouldn't end up making it out alive. But that was something he knew, and he had accepted. He'd come this far, and he'd mainly been hindered or wounded when he'd tried to look out for other people. Now, there was nobody left to take care of but himself, and if he could manage to do even half as well as he'd managed to do with some others, he'd probably be okay.

Disappearing into the forest, Adam made a beeline for the River, a smile on his face, but the underlying serious look in his eyes betrayed him. As he vanished into the woods, anyone who would've been listening would've heard him begin to sing aloud, a strange little tune, especially considering the cirumstances.

"The things that I've loved, the things that I've lost, the things I've held sacred that I've dropped, I won't lie no more, you can bet...I don't want to learn...what I'll need to forget..."

But I'll never forget any of you, or any of this. Not ever. Thank you, my friends. I'll try not to let you down.

Yeah I'll take all the blame
The front page and the fame
But you'll all know my name
And you'll think I'm insane
But you'll all know my name
But you'll think I'm insane

((Continued in ENDGAME))