Ain't That a Kick in the Head?

[Applesintime]

((Matthew Bell continued from KILL THIS ARROGANT MOTH ER FU CKER))

Now he was here, travelling on his own again, Matthew actually felt kind of shitty about leaving Corb behind. That more emotional side of him that regretted it kept clashing with the logical side of him, though. All of yesterday he'd had to chaperone him around the village or town or whatever, hiding and waiting for people and noises that were threatening to stop or go away, because Corb was all fucked up by Abhishek. At least that little fucker was dead now. He could go see his commie idols in hell.

But that wasn't the point. The point was that creeping around and hiding wasn't Matthew's thing at all. He was more a 'kick the damn door down and gun down anyone behind it' type of dude, and creeping around didn't suit him at all. So... last night he'd bailed on Corb. Just like he did with Jack. Who was now on the announcements for killing someone. He, uh, stole their gun and shot them, at least that's what Matthew thought. That slippery bastard Danya couldn't say something straight to save his life.

It made him wonder.

Did Jack have his eyes on Matthew's gun the entire time?

Had he saved himself from getting gunned down by getting up and leaving him behind?

Or was this just a case of Danya lying and making shit up so he can make people suspicious of each other?

"Fuck." Matthew spat frustratedly, continuing to walk down the path, reaching to pat the gun holstered in his waistband and make sure that it was still there.

Danya couldn't have spent a little more to give them a holster, huh?

Cheapskate.

[CardboardAirplane]

Jack couldn't stop replaying the murder in his mind. It was a feedback loop that just never stopped.

(Jack Kilgore continued from Yo dawg, I heard you like SOTF, so... Wait, you hate SOTF?!? Well, sucks to be you, pal.)

When he woke up this morning, Jack drank some of his water, started to realize he was being too damn gluttonous since that was pretty much his last bottle of water, cursed Danya, and continued walking.

It wasn't until he passed a good number of imaginary destinations in his mind that he started to realize his situation.

That was his first kill. If he was lucky, his only one. More importantly it meant that he qualified to exit the game, should he manage to be the last one standing anyway.

It was a light shining through the dense fog of confusion. It was a future he started securing for himself, and this was probably the most clarity he would get as to what he would do later in life. At least replacing the question "What do you want to be when you grow up?" to "What is your plan to get out of this game alive?"

He thought about playing it lame. Find somewhere to bunker down and just stay there until it was necessary to leave, only to find somewhere else to hide. It wasn't the most graceful of ideas. He always yelled at campers whenever they would just snipe him out of nowhere, but this was his life, and he didn't want to play around with it. Perhaps now was the time he started taking things more seriously.

If he was gonna play things safe now, maybe now was the time to turn back and hide in the cave again. If David wasn't there anyway. That idea was immediately thrown away as he saw the other boy now standing in front of him.

"No fucking way." The words flew out of his mouth faster than he could slap himself and say to stay quiet.

Dumbass was still trekking on like a loner, huh? Didn't seem like the happiest camper but Matthew struck him as perpetually pissed off anyway. It looked sad. Bet he totally regrets leaving him behind.

[Applesintime]

Matthew's first instinct when he heard Jack's voice was to pull his gun and put a fucking bullet in his head. But, that was suppressed, because... shit, he still didn't know what really happened. He had a little suspicion that Danya was the kinda guy who'd lie and make up shit that didn't happen just to stoke more fear and tensions in people. He probably wouldn't make up deaths, but he could leave out context, exaggerate a little, that kinda shit. Making people all paranoid seemed like it'd be right up his street, as if forty or so goddamn deaths wasn't enough to make anyone a little jumpy.

Still, Jesus. Speak of the fucking devil.

"Oh shit, Jack!" So instead, he pushed down that urge to just dome the guy and turn around with a smile plastered on his face, 'delighted' to see his friend again. "Oh shit dude, how've you been? I'm, uh, sorry for disappearing on you earlier, I just heard a noise and went to check it out and I got lost, couldn't find where you were again." It was a lie that'd do. Matthew wasn't a great liar, but eh, if Jack reacted negatively or tried to kill him it'd just prove he was right. Really, no loss.

"Oh, hey, uh, I missed the announcements. I, uh, overslept. D'you remember them?" Well, asking him directly about it might not go off so well, so Matthew figured he'd lie, see if Jack was gonna tell the truth or if he was gonna cover his own ass. Wasn't, like, an immediate guilt thing, he'd probably do the same thing but eh, if he was innocent he'd say it. Nothing to hide, nothing to fear after all. If Matthew killed some killer, he wasn't gonna hide that.

[CardboardAirplane]

Matthew was smiling. Good sign. Turns out the idiot got lost! Boy, what did that just prove? It meant that Matthew really was just a little bit stupid. He could have just called out his name last time they split up. His fault for not being able to find the one other person he was with and Jack was totally gonna make fun of him for that, but now he was back.

It made Jack start to wonder, does that mean the two would stick together again? If it were just a mistake, that would be the case.

He was playing smart now and gave an extra second of thought. Jack thought about the complications caused by the announcement. It was cool and all when it announced the other deaths, but now he was getting called out? Not cool, Danya. Jack put a little more of his brain cells to use and realized the odds that Matthew might start reacting negatively towards him for that. Jack had no gun though, as much as he wanted one. Perhaps he could use that in his favor if he ever had to explain his actions. How could he shoot someone without one?

"Oh, you did what?" His heart skipped a beat.

No way. It felt like half of his It was an easy out! He had a master plan.

"Ah shit man. I think Abhishek, Alex… Angelo maybe? Most of it escaped my mind."

He'd pat himself on the back; he thought it was clever. It wasn't lying after all. Jack did in fact forget most of the announcement. Most of what was said went in one ear and out the other; Jack couldn't remember for the life of him whether person A killed person B.

"But hey, you're here, I'm here, what's say we do the whole double team thing again, eh?" He smiled and made his hands into finger guns.

[Applesintime]

Hm. On one hand, Jack did seem like a stupid enough motherfucker to have forgotten most of the announcement. On the other hand, he had a reason to fake not having heard the announcement. Either way, Matthew's suspicions weren't alleviated just yet. Because, like, if he had shot someone in self defence, he should be able to just go 'yeah, Quentin was trying to kill me I had to shoot him'. Come to think of it, where was his gun? If he'd stolen some dude's gun, he should still have it. Unless it ran out of ammo and he dropped it or some stupid shit.

"No sweat bro. I guess, uh, the usual faces are on the fucking list." Matthew scowled, taking the opportunity to vent some of his growing disgust of Jack in a healthy and also not suspicious way. "Katelyn, Alex, uh, that fucking psycho who took that girl Ingrid hostage - he's killed like, two people now I think. Shoulda just taken the fucking shot."

At Jack's proposition - going back to how they were, before Matthew had bailed on him and Jack had fucking murdered a dude in cold blood - Matthew just briefly nodded, checking behind him. A plan was beginning to form in his head. As much as this fucking asshole's attitude and casual 'hey I just killed a dude but I'm gonna lie to you about it, let me travel with you so I can steal your gun and kill you like that guy' shit was getting to him, Matthew nodded.

"Yeah, alright. Need a guy to watch my ass anyway. Uh, before we head on, mind keeping an eye on my ass? Not literally - uh, I gotta take a leak. Real bad. Thanks!" Without waiting for Jack's approval, Matthew nodded in thanks at him and rushed off behind some particularly dense growth, squatting down just to make sure he was outta sight.

Unzip.

Tinkle. Tinkle. Clatter. "Fuck! Shit, gun fell out of my waistband, one sec." Smooth as ever, Matthew. Tinkle. Rezip. Matthew stood back up, reaching into his duffel bag to grab some hand sanitiser and squirt it on his hands as he walked back towards Jack.

"Alright, I'm good! So, uh, how've you been? Where've you been, really." Beginning to walk down the path towards the town again, Matthew glanced back at Jack, making a c'mere gesture with his hand. "Haven't uh, talked to anyone who's seen you. Was hoping you hadn't fallen down into a crevice or some other kinda Everest type shit. But, uh, but you're here, so we're all good." He let out a kinda nervous laugh, as if he was relieved that Jack was alive.

[CardboardAirplane]

"Hell yeah, that's very poggers." He clapped his hands together and made a fist.

"Ya know, I didn't realize Brad killed two people."

He could get past the attitude if it meant he had someone to watch his back. And the fact that he had to watch Matthew's back first. He could do that, nobody was just going to sneak up on someone taking a piss. Scummy as hell, and also imagine staring someone down while you do that?

Jack crossed his arms and turned away, whistling some random tune while he waited for his business to be finished. After that, they'd be friends-ish again and on their way.

clatter

Ha, clumsy.

Actually... He had another idea.

Jack followed behind Matthew. Despite having this truce again, he wanted to have some eyes on him most of the time just in case something happened.

"Been living, been chill, literally." He joked, "Just been wandering around fucking outside. Just trees, more trees, you get it. Surprised to not really see anyone else. I mean like, there were a couple of others I've seen but it was more of a one and done thing. Haven't seen any of them sense."

Not like Jack ever wanted to meet David or Billie again. That just spelt bad news for one of them, and probably a lot of yelling for another.

"But yup, I did in fact not fall into a crevice. Come on, I'm not that stupid."

[Applesintime]

"It's Josh, actually. Not Brad. Still a fucking stupid name and he's still a stupid fucking murderer. And then Ingrid, the one he took hostage, went and, I dunno, decided to practice her swimming in the middle of the Arctic or wherever the fuck we are. Like, c'mon, what did you expect to happen, you'd swim allllllll the way home and Danya'd just give you a medal?" Matthew cracked up a little at the idea, keeping an eye on the ground as he laughed to make sure he didn't fall on his ass or something and reveal what was gonna happen. Once he calmed down, he started chatting again.

"It's pretty fucking cold here, so I guess most people are sorta in the town or the research base thing. Honestly, kinda wish I had brought something warmer. Don't get me wrong, this jacket's cosy, but it only covers my chest. Everywhere else? Still pretty fucking cold." Matthew scoffed, gently patting one of his pockets. If only they'd given them a proper coat rather than a shitty windbreaker. "Maybe if we fell into a crevice together it'd be warmer or something. We'd fall to the middle of the Earth and melt in the lava."

"Anyway, who did you see? Nobody on Danya's announcements, I guess. Otherwise some dude woulda probably shot you by now." The corners of Matthew's mouth tilted slightly. He was facing away from Jack, so if he wanted to shoot him in the back he'd have done it by now. So there was only one gun here, and it was a Slovakian 9mm. Not whatever Jack had.

[CardboardAirplane]

“Josh?” He tilted his head back, confusion washing over him like his whole world had changed. That wasn’t right. The hostage—Ingrid, called him Brad. Why the hell would she do that if his name wasn’t Brad? Jack just thought she knew who he was he sure as hell didn’t know; That guy just looked like your basic-ass white bitch. He couldn’t recall any moment in school where his name came up anywhere important enough to remember.

Either way, Jack wasn’t completely sure what the truth was. He did hear about the fact Ingrid was dead. Eve too. Out of all of the people he saw during the almost-shootout, why did fuckin’ Brad (Just to be safe, that would still be his name in his mind) have to be the only one still kicking?

He put both of his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, I was confused as hell about that as well. Maybe like, hypothermia makes you stupid or something because fucking swimming out of here sounds like the shittiest idea in the world. Pssssh, I ain’t doing that. I wanna live.” Though he had to admit, he could respect it in a “I wouldn’t do that shit, but it’s interesting to see someone try” sort of way.

“Oh yeah, just David and this, this, this uh—this girl in a wheelchair.” He had absolutely no intention of bringing up Quentin’s existence. A hell of a lot easier just so he wouldn’t get asked about him.

“David though? Being kind of a prick, if I’m being honest, and let me just say, I am totally honest.” Which was his way of getting some of the frustration out. Fucking David. Jack wanted to bring up the fact that he fucking tackled him, but he had a feeling that was something that would be a bit harder to lie about.

Jack's eyes kept looking back and forth between the back of Matthew's head and his waistband. He started to slowly pick up the pace.

[Applesintime]

"Oh yeah, that girl in a wheelchair came on the trip, Billy or something like that. I mean, dude, I gotta be real with you, I don't get what someone in a wheelchair and with fucky legs could do on a skiing trip, but it's kinda amazing in a way that she's still kicking. Like, uh, she's rolling with a serious disadvantage, and, uh, I didn't intend that pun-" Matthew started laughing again at his own joke. It wasn't exactly PC or woke or whatever, but it was funny.

"Any... anyway, uh," once Matthew had recovered, he began speaking again, "it's kinda wild how she's still alive despite having a real disadvantage. These roads sure as shit aren't paved, so, like, she can't go up stairs or go around the wilder parts of the island and yet she's still here despite a bunch of people having died. In a way, you have to respect that." Glancing back at Jack, Matthew started to stretch as he walked, loosening out the old muscles. He missed the gym, but hey, this place was basically infinite leg day with all the damn walking you did.

As Matthew stretched, his hands interlocked and raised high above his head with a satisfied groan, his shirt and jacket rode up a little, revealing the temptingly shiny metal of what was tucked into his waistband.

"David, uh... the dude who's obsessed with that one TV show? He always struck me as a little bit weird. Must have some kinda charm about him that you didn't see, though, he's always getting people to do that club thing." Matthew scoffed. "Or maybe the island's just made him crack. At least he hasn't killed five people like that little furry bitch Katelyn." Aware that his shirt was riding up, Matthew continued, waiting to see what Jack did.

Moment of truth, motherfucker.

[CardboardAirplane]

It was only now that he realized the hilarity of some girl in a wheelchair going on a skiing trip. Matthew was right, what the hell was she planning on doing anyway? Somehow will the ability to walk? The pun managed to get a snicker out of him, even if it was completely unintended. Jack was easily entertained and found himself enthralled with some rather cartoonish imagery of her rolling down a hill on a fucking wheelchair. The more he thought about it, the more fun it sounded to him.

She really must’ve been lucky though. Jack wasn’t sure if David was the first person she’s seen, but there was quite a bit of killers at this point. He had to question what the odds were of meeting one of them instead of harmless-actually-not-harmless-because-he’s-a-bitch David.

Those thoughts only took up a small portion of his mind as he started focusing on something else. Most of Matthew’s words after that faded into the background for him; something grey, something which should’ve rightfully been his earlier. Something to better ensure that he’d have a life outside of here. This time with no slimy little idiots to interfere with his actions.

Jack was a main character. Or at least, he’ll call himself one. Everything was through his eyes, he knew what he was feeling, obviously he would take himself over anyone else. Maybe the others were right, and it was a bit of a shitty thing to do. But Jack felt it was right, and that was enough for him to be fine with it. He never understood why people needed a reason for the questionable actions, or at least why people always expect something big and grand. When asked why he was the way he was, he just said it was funny. It wasn’t anything more than that, and Jack never really saw why people saw it as anything more than a joke. Here, the question and answer were similar; he wanted to live. Why did anyone have to seriously justify that shit? He didn’t want to get shot and killed, he had a lot he wanted to do. He was only about quarter through his life expectancy, and he had a life to live. He had some cool-ass shit he wanted to do which he wouldn’t be able to if he died on this fucking island. Surely everyone had those thoughts, and if he was right about it, everyone would act the same in due time. If only one of them would get what they wanted, he might as well make it himself.

Jack continued to move closer and closer, the gun was just there, ripe for the taking. If now was the time to jump on an opportunity, now was it. Second chances weren’t usually a thing, so he wasn’t going to waste it.

He jerked his hand forward and with a grunt, grabbed the gun and jumped back. He almost fumbled and dropped it when he moved but it managed to stay firmly in his grasp. There was a moment of relief, he’s got it again.

That relief quickly morphed into confusion and alarm as he realized what was in his hand wasn’t exactly what he thought it was.

[Applesintime]

Jack was not holding a Slovakian 9mm pistol.

Instead, what he was holding was a magazine for a Slovakian 9mm pistol.

Matthew sighed, taking a few more steps and then stopping in his tracks. He was right. Jack was a murderer, and while that fucking sucked ass, he had something to do before he could sit down and process it.

"You know, Jack? I was really fucking hoping that you weren't a piece of shit murderer." Turning around to face Jack, Matthew reached into his jacket, pulling out the gun that he'd had been so desperate for. "This what you want?" Taking aim with one hand, not in the mood to taunt this little motherfucker unless he was on the ground bleeding out, Matthew pulled the trigger.

[CardboardAirplane]

Matthew’s words continued to fade into the background as all he could think of was that maybe he broke the gun in half of something when he took it out. Maybe just, somehow it was still in his waistband or something.

When Jack glanced up to see the gun in that little fuckers hand, his eyes widened. No fucking way, he got jebaited!

Before Jack could even get the chance to get an “It was a joke” or any other panicked thoughts out into the world, he found himself making contact with it as a bullet pierced through his chest and dragged him to the ground.

“B-Bitch!” He spat out on impulse.

“You fucking… Bitch!” Pain shot through his entire body and he had to force the words out of him.

Which he would; he’d keep spouting his mouth. Talking was easier, it showed his disbelief, pain, and hatred better than anything else. It gave an illusion that he still had fight left within him when it should’ve set in that all of a sudden, he was doomed.

[Applesintime]

"I'm the bitch?! Motherfucker, you tried to steal my fucking gun! Same thing you did with Quentin, huh? Stole his fucking gun and murdered him like a fucking coward?! Fuck you!" Matthew threw his arms out to the side in exasperation, letting out a growl as he stared down at the dying fuck, gun clenched tightly in his fist. Holy shit, the dude had just fucking been shot and his first instinct was to keep bitching? Taking a deep breath, Matthew crouched down and watched Jack.

"When I was 'taking a piss'," air quotes with his free hand, "I swapped the gun out. Dropped it on purpose to remind you. I wasted like, a tenth of a bottle on your sorry fucking ass! But you know why I did it, huh Jack? Because I wanted to fucking trust you! I hoped you wouldn't fall for the fucking bait! That I could have someone to watch my... ass." The anger deflated out of Matthew like a balloon that somebody had let go of before they tied it, and now it was zooming all around the fucking place.

Because he had someone who was gonna watch his ass. Corb And he just bailed on him like a fucking dick. It still made sense, but less so, and now he was definitely feeling like an asshole about it. No point crying over spilt milk, though. If he ever ran into him again, he could just play the same card - he'd accidentally lost him or some shit. Somebody picked up the balloon and started to reinflate it.

"But you fucking proved that you're nothing but a piece of shit murderer who steals his friends' guns and kills them with it. Was that what you were gonna do this whole time? Good thing I left you the first time, you fucker." Matthew spat off to the side. Whatever. He couldn't bear to look at this guy's face any longer. Pressing the gun's barrel to the side of Jack's head, he hesitated.

"If you've anything you wanna say before I blow your fucking brains out, say it." Once Jack had said his piece, Matthew turned his head away to look down the path and pulled the trigger.

[CardboardAirplane]

Blah blah blah, he was ranting like a James Bond villain so who’s the asshole now, huh?

If this were a movie, he’d find some innate power inside of him to be able to take this fucker down. Maybe a rock just conveniently would be right next to him, and he’d chuck it straight into his eye, giving him time to take the gun and shoot back as revenge for shooting him in the first place!

But this wasn’t a movie, and he wouldn’t get a climactic ending. He wouldn’t get to be the one guy to make it out of here, and he wouldn’t be able to kill this fucker like he wanted to less than a couple of seconds ago.

As the gun tapped the side of his head, his already quick breathing became more shaken, and he’d shift his body to avoid the very likely possibility of getting shot. Not much was accomplished on that front.

“Hey come on man, I thought—”

He stopped. That wasn’t going to work.

With what strength he had now, he pointed his middle finger up and held his hand towards Matthew.

“F-Fuck you man! I’m not the asshole for wanting to live!”

His words weren’t ever very eloquent, but that was the best way he could think of to get his grievances out.

Jack wasn’t a firm believer in any sort of religion, the idea of an old fuck in the sky just became too stupid for him to really believe in outside of jokes. But if there was a hell, he hoped this guy would be there with him.

S084: Jack Kilgore - Deceased
88 remain.

[Applesintime]

Matthew grimaced at the sound of brain, blood and bone being tossed out of Jack's head by way of a 9mm bullet, letting out a forceful exhale and turning his head to look at the dead man. Even in his last moments, his response was to say 'fuck you'. In a way, he kinda respected the balls on the guy. If it was him lying there with a bullet in the gut and soon to be one in the dome, Matthew... didn't really know what he'd do, come to think of it.

He'd cross that bridge when he reached it.

If he reached it.

Kneeling down, careful to avoid the blood already starting to soak the snow around them, he gently tugged Jack's bag off of his body. Fuck, man. He'd just fucking executed a guy in cold - well, no, not cold blood, but it was blood either way. Even if he'd been in the right, defending himself, it was still something to take in. Jack coulda pulled the axe if Matthew didn't shoot him in time. Said axe was now in his bag; he didn't know if he'd ever need it, what with the gun, but the more the merrier. Better he have it than some random murderer who stumbled upon the dead body. He also wanted to grab some water and food to bolster his supply, but Jack had ran out of water. Already? Jesus, he'd probably have died without Matthew putting a bullet in him. Still, he took what he could of the food and some of the medical supplies.

The barrel of the gun was still bloody, so Matthew wiped it on his victim's shirt then stood up, looking down at the body. It sucked. Jack had been... well, he'd been an asshole and a murderer. But if they'd met at school instead of on a plane that had crashed in a hellhole of an island, Matthew figured they'd be friends. Closing his eyes, he let out another exhale and opened his eyes to watch the steam or whatever it was from his breath twist away and disappear.

"Sorry, dude."

He didn't know why he said that. But it felt right.

((Matthew Bell continued in Aiskhylos, Agamemnon, line 805))