There only exist slaves to emotions

[Melusine]

A fountain of bugs stood before her in the shape of someone she used to know. She tentatively stepped forward, squinting at the broken body in front of her. Quietly, she bent down, her fingers reaching to its form. Her claws raked against the form, shooing the bugs away.

It looked like a broken doll. An uncanny doll that pretend to be once human until its cords were snapped and it was forced to crash on the ground. The fountain spewed and moved, its body sprinkling ants and centipedes.

In her hand was now a small scrunchie and as she brought it closer to her face, she threw her head back to laugh.

"You fucking cunt."

She smiled, all of her teeth shining in the sun.

((Willow continued here.))

She moved around the garden, quietly making her way like a fairy in her den. It was frankly ugly, but there was something special to ugliness. Pretty things were forgettable, something to blend in a sea of adequate or normalcy. Ugliness, though, managed to shine in the ocean.

The bodies were an apt decoration. An ear in a ziploc, a scrunchie in her pocket, and, most importantly, the mental image of a broken girl as she waited for Daria in the gardens. Her friend did tell her to wait, but she couldn't bother to stay there. Daria was a doomed girl who didn't even bother to touch her, and she didn't feel like sitting in the open for that.

Plus, the majority of the island was dead anyways, someone's hero complex wouldn't change that.

She moved in the gardens, knowing that she could meet her final fate here. Her little collection of mementos were there to reassure her, remind that even in death, a piece of her would prevail through the darkness. It was some type of light thrown at the camera, creating a new space where she existed without fear for the future.

In any case, a perfect place for Willow.

[decoy73]

((Christina Rennes continued from In and Out My Brain, Running Through My Vein))

How many people were left? Christina didn't really know. Like fourteen after the announcement, so there were probably less than that. And of the people still remaining, one of them had broken the record set by Hansel Williams. Christina was better off now - she at least had a gun now. And now, she only had to do two things to go home - stay alive, and kill someone. That was it. It's just that everyone else had the same objective. So she was probably going to have to get hurt. The question was whether she was going to kill the next person she met, or if she'd have to.

Speaking of which, there was someone right now. Christina felt the tugging of a smirk. This was going to be wildly unpredictable. Nothing more to really do than to let it play out.

[Melusine]

"Oh."

She was now sitting on one the blocks. One of those decorations that they let around to put plants on top of it, but since the island had been abandoned since the 70's, the only thing decorating this block was the guano of various animals. She tried not to sit on it, but it was quite hard to avoid the splatters of dry and wet poo.

Willow set her bag on her side, zipping the bag closed. She still had her weapons on her though, her gun to her side, her stun gun in her backpocket and her oversized cleaver in her hands. All in all, she had everything she needed in her life.

Her fingers drummed on the handle of her cleaver.

"So, hey Chris," she paused, "how are you doing?"

[decoy73]

"So, hey Chris. How are you doing?"

Christina looked at the girl. Willow, or something like that. Willow ... hadn't been on the announcements much, if at all. That didn't mean that Willow wasn't dangerous - it just meant that she hadn't shown herself to be dangerous. The weapon in Willow's hand was all Christina needed to know about that. In any case, Christina didn't want to take any chances. At least, not until the moment was right.

"Fine, given the circumstances. I'm not dead, so there's that."

[Melusine]

"Uh-uh," she replies, staring at nothing ahead of her, "personally, I'm kinda woozy"

Her words were punctuated by gunshots in the distance. She wondered if it was Daria or if it was someone else, Willow shrugged. It wasn't apathy, per say, but it was somewhere along the lines of the weariness in her bones getting to her. She had been on a high after getting shot, but now, the hunger and the pain and the bloodloss was getting to her brain.

She sighed again, trying to get the oxygen back to her brain instead of her fingers. They were tingly as if the strings had been cut, but Willow was still in control, her body was hers and hers only. She sighed again, another gunshot, more oxygen to her brain. Simple as it was, the motion still pained her. She wondered if her ribs were still there, there was a good chance she had lost one or two back then.

"Anyways, do you have a ciggy?"

[decoy73]

There were some pops in the distance. Given how there weren't any cars around that had the ability to backfire, it only meant that shots were being fired. Her gun hand had to suppress a twitch, given how a wild shot could have hit her.

"Can't help you there. Not something I really did, given how I ran all the time. Although if you had some reefer I'd wouldn't mind a puff or two. Lord knows I'll need some to cope with this shit." If Christina had had any weed at the start of the game, she'd have probably ran through it all in a week.

[Melusine]

Oxygen.

In and out.

Her lungs weren't burning, but they felt like they had deep cuts in them. Maybe it was psychosomatic, maybe it was the floating ribs, maybe it was simply the fact that one of her hand had left her cleaver without noticing and it was now grappling her injury. Yeah. Probably that.

"That sucks."

She pauses, still looking down at the ground. She flicked her eyes up for a second then back down. She dragged her eyes across the roots of the tree nearby and slowly following the bark to go up into the branches.

"Sorry about your sister," another gunshot behaving like a comma, "my condolences."

[decoy73]

"Sorry about your sister. BANG My condolences."

It's the thought that counted. Sort of. Either way, a ghost of a smile and the slightest tinge of pink crossed her face.

"Uh, thanks." Christina sighed as she leaned against a tree. "It's been a little rough, to say the least. on all of us. I guess we're just hoping that the graduation gift for our parents isn't a body bag."

[Melusine]

"I don't think they're planning on returning us."

She shrugged, tapping her blade against the concrete. It made a thud, not a pleasant one, but something else than the shots that surrounded them. It wasn't a melody by no mean, but a better noise than the fade firecracker than made Willow jumped a bit every time they rung out.

"I mean, I wouldn't."

She shrugged.

"Doesn't matter in any case," she looks up, staring at Chris. "So, hum, I guess we're supposed to kill each other or something."

Daria wouldn't want that, but what Daria didn't know wouldn't hurt her, and if Willow were to die right here, right now, maybe for once, someone would be pushed over the edge to finally take action in this game.

"So, yeah, are you going to shoot me?" She shrugged again, her voice breaking off. "Or should I do the shooting? I'm rusty."

[Grim Wolf]

(Daria Bhatia continued from Horseshoes and Handgrenades)

Step by limping step, Daria made her painful way home. The knife still wiggled painfully with every step, even with her hand to steady the blade, and her head ached where the bullet had carved its groove across her skull, but in spite of all her pain, her dizziness, and her exhaustion, she was still smiling.

Injured, but still standing. The pain fierce, but not unberable. She hadn't know she was this tough. She hadn't known she was this brave. After all the ordeals of the last several days--after all her failures, with Quinn, Tony, Aliya, Blaise, and Steph--she saw herself vindicated. Erika had been driven back. Willow was safe. Kate was alive.

She'd wanted to bring Kate with her, but they'd parted ways once before, and had met again against all odds. They would see each other soon. Maybe with more friends. More people to join their cause to hers.

She wanted Willow to treat her wounds. And while she did, she wanted to tell Will everything she'd seen. About the hope that was still in the world. And about Daria's new revelation. That she was everything she'd pretended to be. That she could be the swaggering cowgirl, larger than life.

But there were voices nearby, and Daria slowed and came to a stop. She bit her lip against renewed throbbing from her knife wound, glanced around again. The voices were hazy, obscured by underbrush...but they were human. Kate was coming, with a friend. Willow and her, they didn't have to be alone. And maybe with more people it would easier for Willow to see how she mattered. Maybe...

Maybe things were finally looking up for Daria, and for justice, and for their miserable island.

Daria made her slow, unsteady, lurching way through the underbrush in the gardens, looking for the voices.

[decoy73]

"So, yeah, are you going to shoot me? Or should I do the shooting? I'm rusty."

Maybe? That was what Christina's answer was. Any sort of gunplay could hypothetically turn out in Christina's favor. If she double tapped quickly enough. If Willow didn't grab onto her gun in time. Whole lotta "ifs." Not enough time.

It was at that point when she heard a rustle in the bushes and holy shit. Whomever had come out looked like a fucking murder scene. That was all she thought about as she whipped out her gun and fired at the bat wielding maniac.

[Melusine]

Willow wasn't sure what made her move. It could be anything at this point. Maybe it was her nerves, maybe it was her muscles, maybe it was the impact of bullets; in any case, she was now on the ground. She didn't remember ducking though, but she did remember rolling away from Christina.

The movement and the impact hadn't exactly taken her breath away from her, but it didn't exactly help. Her bags and her weapons sprawled around her as she leaned against the concrete block. The gunshots rung out again, flinching every time. Willow had assumed she would have gotten used to it by this point, but the smell of gunpowder always made her stomach churn the wrong way.

Her hands reached out for her gun, her fingers drawing near the strap. As she pulled it near her, she raised her head to see the scene that was unfolding. Daria and Christina. She lowered her head, looking away for a brief second. She considered leaving, it would be easy and nobody would really care. Worse case scenario, one of them would follow her and she'd have to deal with them.

She sighed, turning her body around. Her gun was solidly anchored to her shoulder. Her finger was on the trigger, ready to squeeze. Underneath her foot, she could feel the handle of her cleaver. She didn't need to speak, her bullets would do it for her.

[Grim Wolf]

Stupid of her to cut through the garden. Things were thick with overgrowth, and even the narrow rut she was walking on didn't keep her free and clear of underbrush, branches, or low-slung boughs. But the voices were nearby, muffled but familiar.

Daria pushed her way into the open, nearly lost her balance, whirled her arms to stay upright. She rocked back on her heels, her bat raised, startlingly close to a familiar figure. Her eyes widened in recognition. "Chr-" she started.

A rattle of gunfire, and a fire in her belly, and Daria was facedown in the dirt.

[decoy73]

The two shots from Christina's gun were expected. Deafening, but expected. It was the other bangs that weren't expected. Those other bangs which only really registered when Christina was flat on her back. She pushed up and

Oh, God that hurt. Her hand touched the offending spot and the "oh, shit" from the pain gave way to an "oh, shit" from the wet blotches on her stomach. She got up (as best as she could, breathing seemed to really get difficult) and started crawling to the nearest surface that she could lean on to inspect the damage.

[decoy73]

Two holes. That's what she saw when she lifted her T-shirt. One in her gut, the other higher up in her chest (so that's why she couldn't breathe). She reached into her bag for the first aid kit, opened it up, and started taping as much bandage as she could around her stomach, which would, in theory, stem the bleeding. It took a couple minutes more than expected, mainly due to the fact that she was doing this on her own, through excruciating pain, with blood to making the initial stick difficult to perform. But she was able to bandage herself up decently enough to stand up.

At which point she immediately collapsed to the ground, wetly coughing all the way down. It was only when Christina looked down at the red on her arm. Since her arm wasn't bleeding, it was another "oh, shit." One of those shots ... did it hit her lung? Was she literally coughing blood? It was all she could think about as she got herself back into a sitting position. It was all she could do - her legs were starting to feel numb. She just ... she just laughed. Even if she had gotten the psycho, she'd fucked up in the endgame. This was it for her, and well, she didn't know or care what she was supposed to think as her eyelids started to droop.

Mom, Dad. I'm sorry. I guess you'll be getting two body bags for graduation.

FEMALE STUDENT #63: CHRISTINA RENNES - ELIMINATED

6 STUDENTS REMAIN