Survival Of The Fittest

Bastard... Stupid repugnant BASTARD!

He didn't slow down... Didn't falter in his relentless onslaught upon the defenceless boy's prone body. At first it had only been in self defence, in retaliation for what had happened to that poor bastard mere moments ago. He HAD to strike back! Had to make sure that he didn't try to throw another whilst his back was turned or something... But in all the chaos that had occurred, Maxwell had all but forgotten his original intentions. After Nick had struck him in the face... HIS face! His precious, one-of-a-kind, divinely beautiful face... And actually caused it to BLEED! No way he was forgiving this piece of shit for that... As far as Maxwell was concerned at that moment, Nick was a dead man. Plain and simple...

"How DARE you lay so much as a finger on me! ME? Maxwell Lombardi! The only man with any culture or intellect on this desolate rock! Scum like you sicken me... I bet you think YOU deserve to get off this island so you could return to whatever pointless existence you once had, back before any of this "Survival of the Fittest" nonsense... Well guess what Einstein, you're wrong. You DON'T deserve to get off this island, no more than any of the other sad fuckers who're brainless enough to play along. You're just a sheep, a sheep who does exactly as they're told. A sheep who doesn't dare think for themselves least they suffer an aneurysm from the sheer effort of doing so. People like you would probably jump off a cliff if promised a million dollar prize!"

"And besides... Even if by some miracle you got away, then what? EVERYBODY knows you're a heartless murderer now. You'll be hunted down and arrested the second you got back. I on the other hand......"

............

...Wait...... What the hell am I doing?

He stopped his beating almost instantaneously, his boiled blood slowly but surely dying down as he came to the realisation that if he continued on like this then he'd become the very thing he was accusing Nick of being.

You're playing right into their hands dammit! Doing EXACTLY what they want you to do! Those bastards are probably looking at you right now, waiting for you to finish him off! THEN who'd be the mindless sheep who does as they're told?

At that thought, he couldn't help but quickly look around to see if there WERE any cameras trained on him at that moment... He couldn't spot any, but he was certain that at least one must have been watching him at that very moment.

I can't believe I let myself go like that! I mean... Dear god, I nearly killed someone right there! Literally KILLED someone! It I hadn't of stopped myself... Hadn't of stopped myself from becoming a biggest hypocrite on the planet... Good lord......

As he stood there in silence, the boy in front of him decided to take the opportunity to turn tail and run. Not before saying some "threatening" passing words though... He was tempted to make some witty comeback, but decided against it. He'd wasted enough time on this bastard already. No point in demeaning him any further... Still, he didn't waste the opportunity to give him an equally menacing scowl back. Good riddance... I hope he burns on his own cocktail.

He was honestly shocked at just how much he had wanted to kill him back then. How much he had wanted to just keep on kicking until the scraggly bastard finally stopped squirming about. It had been such a THRILL proving his superiority over him like that, to watch him crawl away desperately in order to escape the inevitable fate that awaited him at his own hands! The sheer power he had over him back then, the feeling of knowing that another man's life was yours to do with as you wished... As much as Maxwell hated to admit it, he had greatly enjoyed himself back there. Far more than he was really comfortable with...

He shoved those thoughts aside for now... What was important right then was the fact that after that little stunt, he doubted any of the others would be quick to trust him. Sure, he COULD earn their trust if he tried hard enough, but personally Maxwell couldn't be bothered at that moment. Better to just take the other guy's example and leave while the getting's good. No point in standing around with these losers any longer...

He wiped the blood off his face with a spare tissue before making his way in the opposite direction to Nick, carrying his duffle bag with a sense of dignity. He considered going back for the shield he left by the gazebo, but quickly decided against that. Blasted thing was only slowing him down anyway...

Well, this could have all gone along a lot more smoothly... Awful shame the situation had to literally go to hell like that.

Ah well, better luck next time......

((Maxwell Lombardi continued in No Rest for the Wicked))

Evelyn wasn't sure exactly what the FUCK just happened.

The polite boy was doing his best to answer her question about who he had seen and where while Lord Douchebag (aka Maxwell) was stammering and screaming at people to shut up. Then, completely out of nowhere, the polite boy's head was on fire.

Seriously.

Just…on FIRE.

After that, everything became a complete blur. There was screaming and yelling and screaming.

It took her a second to realize that she was the one screaming. Loud, horrified wails of terror. She stepped back from Janet, her arms drawn tight against her body, her hands balled up near her face as she continued to scream. The boy was fully engulfed, every bit of him on fire. He seemed to be reaching for her as he fell to the ground, writhing in agony.

Evelyn knew she should help him, but she felt frozen. All she could do is continue to scream and tremble while he burned. Within a matter of seconds, the boy stopped moving. Now gasping for breath, she didn't know what to do.

Maxwell was screaming about something and running, but she couldn't take her eyes off of the corpse of the nice boy. A terrible, disgusting smell reached her nostrils and made her gag.

Ohgodohmygodohgodhe'sdeadheburnedhe'sallburnedup. What do I do?!

A single heartbeat passed before her traumatized brain provided the only logical answer.

Run. Just run and don't look back.

Pulling her bag tight to her body, Evelyn whirled around and ran for all she was worth, direction be damned. She had to get away from here. Right now.

((Evelyn Reed continued in Cold, Wet, and Tired))

((Taking over Janet Claymont))

It irked Janet that no one really answered her question. Seriously, where was everybody else? Where the hell were the buses?

What the fuck was that?

Suddenly, Janet saw fire.

"Holy shit." She exclaimed with the next graceless statement to enter her mind. Things had just suddenly gone straight to hell. Without warning, what seemed to be arguing people and a gazebo turned into a giant fire with people fleeing in every direction. Instinctively, Janet stumbled backwards, tripping over the bags she left behind in the process. Staring into the flames, she caught a glimpse of someone burning. It quickly became apparent to Janet that this was not the senior trip she signed up for.

Just then, instincts took over. Janet let out a scream and grabbed the bags as she shot up to her feet and ran as fast as her legs could take her. She then caught a glimpse of another girl. Not immediately recognizing her, Janet only sped up her pace.

She ran. Ran from everything around, while still oblivious to what was really going on.

((Janet Claymont continued in Your Cross to Bear)

((Sorry if I accidentally derailed Janet, I'm just starting to get the hang of this.))

Everyone had gone. Sam sighed in frustration. There was no point in her staying here any longer. Quickly checking her map and compass, Sam continued on her way.


((Samantha Ridley continued in Darkness Within))

((Thread Closed))