Survival Of The Fittest

Boxer's reckless charge was not only fast enough to hit his target, it was also clumsy enough that he tripped on a jutting branch in the darkness and hit the ground with a resounding thud. He growled and clutched his leg as the boy who called himself Raven disarmed Terry...the fact that he heard a gunshot and did not feel any other pain than the sprain was hollow solace to the fear that one of them had died...most likely the girl.

Yet lo and behold, the titan got up to his hands and knees to find himself facing Leo, The gun was pointing at him, and Boxer was a huge target...almost, ironically like a horse to be put to sleep. He watched helplessly as he was forced to take in Leo's words...right before he curiously dropped dead on the ground in front of him. And it enraged him severely.

He lunged out one more time from his position...but not at Terry. He landed himself over the corpse of what was once Leo Curtis, grabbed it by the collar, and started punching it, hissing and seething all the while.

"I...AM...NOT...A...FUCKING...IDIOT!" Boxer roared as he pummeled the corpse, further disfiguring it. "EDDIE...WAS...MY....FRIEND!"

(Uhh... LaZ, you can go ahead. Lemme post something basic.)

Terrie stared with fear at Boxer, her gun still pointed at him. The way he was screaming was scaring the everliving hell out of her. "B-Boxer..." she said hesitantly, shifting her eyes from him to the body. "He was lying to you. Don't believe him. You... You aren't an idiot."

Even Terrie herself didn't even believe her own words. To be friends with Eddie, a boy who killed someone... that was very stupid indeed.

To be friends with someone who had killed another was often just horrific coincidence. Perhaps then, it was stupid that Boxer had probably not heard of it, focusing almost mindlessly on the person who had killed that friend. Not that the titan was having any of what Terrie was saying, as the late 'Raven's' cursing was still ringing around his mind.

"You're LYING!" he growled as he looked up at Terrie's silhouette in the darkness, "You all fucking think I'm some kinda idiot!" Boxer seethed as his rage helped him find a second wind.

The silhouette of his body in the darkness did not resemble that of a human as it did some kind of wild animal, and Boxer's mane draping around his neck only helped to further that impression. Especially when - as if told to "hike" at a championship game - he planted one foot on the ground and launched off the mutilated body toward Terrie. His arms were extended outward as if he were launching at an NFL player, meaning he was not likely to grab anything if he hit his target.

Terrie threw herself out of the way of Boxer's tackle - which in theory was a simple thing to do, because Boxer was pitiful at running. He was a football player, but Terrie could see the tackle when he got to his feet. She was surprised though. Just why the hell was Boxer attacking her? Why was he taking his frustrations out on her? She was a victim too! Why was he being so damned self-centered? He scrambled to her feet as quickly as she could, as if Boxer was ready to attack her again. She reached for her gun...

Before realizing that her gun wasn't there.

"Oh... Oh jesus... oh no, oh no, oh no!"

She was filled with panic. She needed to find that gun - that was her only protection. Against anyone hand-to-hand she was dead meat, and a large guy like Boxer who must have trained his body extensively could snap her in half. She was very thin, pathetic and not at all a fighter. That gun was her only chance to survive. She had to find it.

She fell to the ground with a loud thump, searching the grass for any signs of the pistol. Terrie knew she was going to cry again - she couldn't die here. It was inevitable, almost predictable that she would die at some point. She sadly realized this before but this was NOT how she wanted to go. She didn't want to be another number to some sick fuck's kill count. If she was going to die... then god damn it, she might as well do it herself. And deep down inside, she felt like that was the best thing to do, to just get it over with.

Her hand felt something, and for a quick second she thought it was the gun. But... presently she noticed that what she had in her hand was a shoe... a dirtied up white sneaker. She first assumed that it was Boxer... before a voice spoke her name.

"T-Terrie?"

Wait... she knew that voice. She knew that voice so well. Terrie looked up.

"B-Brad?"

(Brad Kavanagh continued from The Beginning is the End is the Beginning)

Brad Kavanagh, a boy who looked as though he has been through hell and back. held his hand out to Terrie. He smiled gently, helping her up to her feet. Her gun was in his other hand, pointed down at the wet floor. Terrie couldn't remember a time when she was so relieved. She couldn't see where Ianto was, but he was always late. He was always just behind them, so in her mind she wasn't worried. Terrie gave Brad an embrace, finding herself very close to tears once again. For the first time in a few days, she felt safe. Like she wasn't going to die.

"Jesus... I thought I would never see you again. I was so scared..."

Brad frowned. Yes.. he could easily imagine just how scared Terrie had been. He didn't know what had happened to her but he knew that it must have been very hard on her. His hand patted the top of her head, sighing exasperatedly. In all honesty he didn't actually think he would even see Terrie again. When he heard gunshots his first reaction was to run in and try to calm the situation down (a decision that would have proved lethal had Terrie not been there). Now the tight guilt feeling he had in his chest has all but disappeared. He felt... content.

"A-Are you alright Terrie? I mean... Jesus, you l-look... horrible." he stumbled through his line in the most unintentionally nervous was possible, a red tint forming on his cheeks. Terrie didn't take the chance to look up at him.

"I'm alive aren't I?" She said, rather bluntly. Brad just left it at that and closed his eyes.

Boxer found his arms wrapping around a nearby tree as Terrie jumped out of the way of his charge. The impact stung as the bark and a few splinters poked through his clothing, but the recoil was fairly minimal as Boxer stepped back and shook and brushed himself off.

"Who's there!?" Boxer growled, turning his glance around after hearing another voice - this time a male one, "Who the fuck is that!?"

He found himself wandering about the darkness for a bit before spotting not one, but two silhouettes in the direction from whence he charged. One of them looked to be helping the other up to their feet, so one of them had to be the girl who had just shot 'Raven.'

"There you are," the linebacker declared with clenched teeth as he slowly advanced toward the two, cracking his knuckles for a good beating. He knew one of them was armed, but he didn't notice that the guy was holding the gun.

"Uhh... Terrie." Brad looked at the huge mass of muscle that was Daniel "Boxer" Carvalho. "Why is Boxer creeping up on us? You... didn't do anything to piss him off, did you?"

Terrie looked up at Brad, her blood running cold. Damn it, she had completely forgotten about Boxer. This was probably the best time to run. That was why she let go of Brad and ran as fast as she could, leaving the boy in shock. He stared at Daniel for a moment before letting out a sigh.

"Ughh... you know Boxer, if you really did hit Terrie and I find out... I'll beat the shit out of you." Brad wasn't serious. In fact, he was trying to be intimidating though this might not have worked. He ran off after Terrie, screaming at her to wait up.

((Continued elsewhere))

((Continued on from When We Die))

Despite the fact that she had thought she had been heading the way that Lenny and Rob had been heading, as she continued, Shameeca started to feel like she had gone the completly wrong way. Even as she started to head amongst the trees, she felt like she had lost them totally. The weight of her weapons and the wet clothes made her tired and her stomach was rumbling away as she walked into the jungle. Trees were around her, and this was not a good thing. Being a city girl, Shamee always preffered to be found inside a Starbucks than in a swamp, it was just the way she liked things. In the last week and a bit, she had been closer to nature than she ever had. She had slept on the muddy floor, tried to wash in streams and the sea, even going as far as eating some mushrooms that she had found (not poisonous, she had done a course in wild mushrooms in her cookery course). They had tasted nasty, but weren't going to leave her catonic and drooling. Still, she was a bit more scared that she was alone now, what with Rob gone. Pretty confident that she could watch her back by herself, Shamee did like having someone else around, even two people, but now that Heath was gone, she had only Rob left, and now she had lost him too.

With the gun slung over her shoulder with an improvised sling and the wrench in her right hand (the left arm still stinging to use), she carefully made her way through the trees, only to hear the sound of screaming in the distance, followed by a solitary gunshot. Jesus, what could she do? Now she was armed with her two, well ok two and a half (she had no idea what good the dildo could do in a fight unless it was a seriously fucked up brawl), she could help or try to fight the people over there. Thats if anyone was even hurt, it could be a mis-fire. Hell, Shamee could just run away right now, like she had the first time that she had seen a fight. But no, something had changed now. She had seen Heath, who had nothing to do with her, stand up and say he would help her, without him even owing her at all. Shameeca would do the same thing, only you know, not die.

Jogging closer to the sounds, she heard footsteps approaching, the sound of running. Someone was trying to get away in a hurry. Was it a guilty conscious or just a break at freedom. Whatever it was Shamee did not know, but she knew that the fact that a male voice was screaming at someone to wait, meant that this probably wasn't a good situation. Hefting the wrench in her hand for a better posistion, she did the final burst of a sprint till she reached the area where the voices were. Despite the loaded gun, this fight would be close to useless until she knew who she could shoot at. Suddenly, a large snap was heard as she stepped on a large twig, snapping it. Damn it! she thought, theres the element of surprise gone.

Suddenly, she saw the two fleeing figures, both relatively small compared to the man moutain that seemed to be heading towards them. Well, it was pretty obvious by the angry look on the larger mans face what was going on. Shameeca tried to recognise the taller man, but she only figured him for one of the football players. Swinging the gun off her shoulder, she lifted it and raised it towards the figures, ready to shoot if anyone tried to attack her.

"Stop! I have a gun and I ain't afraid to use it. I don't know whats going on here, but it better end now, cause I have a question. Has anyone seen my friend, he's called Rob Jacks? I need to find him"

Brad's intimidation didn't work. His running after Terrie, however, did its job of losing Boxer since the fatigued and dazed monster couldn't accelerate fast enough. It was then, interestingly, that he picked up the sound of a twig snapping close by, followed by what appeared to be a female voice ordering him to stop, and the mention of Bobby Jacks.

"Another one?! Godfuckingdammit!" Boxer roared almost reflexively. The two others had already fled by now, so it was just him and the girl(?) who had just appeared.

He didn't seem to care who he laid his hands on anymore, as long as he got his hands on someone and vented out the frustration that may as well have been steaming out of his ears. Right now, he turned to face the newcomer, the slowly-brightening sky providing just that little bit of light for him to see her...and he started trudging toward her at a determined pace, focusing his gaze on her silhouette. The thought that she might have a gun didn't seem to bother him too much...

The others had retreated into the distance, too far to be any help now and Shameeca realised that she must be alone with the man in the jungle, which was not a good thing. Not a good thing at all. He didn't seem to acknowldge her words at all, despite the fact that she was holding a gun at him and aiming dead certain at him. She repeated herself about the gun, hoping he would listen but he didn't, just walking in that way, slowly picking up pace. Her heart in her stomach, the fight of flight nerves kicked into Shamee, her pupils dilating as the now well treaded path of adreniline coursed through her arteries. He looked like a killer, he had that blank stare of a mad man. He was bigger, he could catch her if she ran, but fighting, she may have a chance. Shoot first, ask questions later.

Pulling her finger on the rifle and ready to draw back, a sudden squaking of a voice over the air of the announcements against the dusk morning back drop made her starltle, pulling the trigger too early, jamming the gun. Instead of shooting the man, the bullet just stuck in the barrell. Panic swelled in her and seeing her death approaching and without time to fix the gun before he was upon her, Shameeca saw that she had to attack first, despite the odds and to wound him before he got her. Throwing the weapon to the ground, she grabbed the two melee weapons in her bag before dropping it to the floor and with a scream, she lunged at the larger guy, swinging with wrench in her injured left arm upwards towards his head, despite the searing pain and stabbing with her right hand with the weapon that she started with and customised, tooth brush end sharp, hoping one of them would hurt him. The speed of her attack would hopefully throw him off balance and that she could gain the upper hand via surprise.

Today would be a good day to die, but not for Shameeca, not now, not here and not without getting revenge on Lenny. No, she had to make it through this to make sure that murderous scum breathed his last.

It was perhaps ironic that despite the murderous look Boxer was giving off - a look fully revealed as the sun started to rise - Boxer had not yet actually killed anyone. For the next few moments, it seemed like he was going to, as the girl in front of her lunged straight at him for an attack...and perhaps into the titan's grasp.

Yet almost by a stroke of luck, it was the girl whose weapons made first contact. The prison toothbrush jammed itself straight into Boxer's left shoulder, causing his hand to spasm as he roared out in pain. It was a stifled roar, as it would turn out. The impact of the heavy wrench on Boxer's cranium centered around an area that literally knocked the wind out of him, and sent him tumbling off balance, blindingly disoriented and his thoughts a senseless swirl.

The colossus was about to fall...

((Due to final projects submission week, I'm handing control over Boxer's death to Lexi. Hoping for a good one...))

Almost surprisingly, the attack worked, much better than she could of imagined. The blow that she had made actually connected with the larger man, fueled by her fear, anger, frustration and pure panic. In her mind, he wasn't just some jock on the island, a fellow student, Shameeca saw him as something a lot more dangerous. He was a threat to her safety, to Rob's, to all the good people on this island that needed to live. Boxer was a threat, a danger and something to be feared. And the problem was: Shameeca was tired of fighting back, being scared of losing everything that she had tried to save. James, Heath, that girl who was an innocent. She had failed to save them, but she would save this mans victims. Despite the fact that Boxer was innocent of nothing more than being angry and not listening to her shouts, in her head she saw him as something as bad as Lenny. And he must be stopped.

As soon as Boxer hit the ground, Shameeca followed attacked, swinging the sharp end of the toothbrush/dildo weapon into where Boxers eye was, stabbing him several times, missing some and hitting the face in her rage, tears falling down her face. Five, six, seven, eight times she struck, blood squirting up onto her face, hair and clothes. Then using her other hand, she continued to hit him with the wrench, slamming it down hard with a sickening crunching sound as it hit the skull, repeatedly smashing down and down in her frenzied killing attack, angry sobs emanating from her throat as she continued to murder the innocent boy. After over a minute of attacking, the red mists cleared as Shameeca slowly regained her mind, the fury dissipating as she looked down onto what she had done to the football player. The flame of anger was swiftly overwhelmed by a tidal wave of guilt and sickness as she surveyed her handiwork. What had once been an face was now a mess of gore, blood, brain, teeth, pieces of skull and skin all mashed together into the area where his face had been. Only the black hair held a clue to what had once been Boxer.

Suddenly, Shameeca realised that she did know who the boy had been. Daniel Carvahlo, the man mountain of the football team. Some of the people she knew had idolised him, tried to be like him on the pitch. He had been a child, a student, a friend, maybe even a brother. She had taken that, destroyed what had once been someone, killed them and didn't even leave them a face to be remembered by.

"Oh god, what have I done. I only wanted to stop him, I didn't mean to do this, oh god, I am so sorry, I didn't mean to, I just wanted to be safe, please.." she pleaded to the body, despite the fact that she couldn't be forgiven now. She could of stopped, but she didn't. Talking or just running could have stopped all of this and he would still be alive. No more tears came from her eyes, her brown skin stained with the salty hot trails down her cheeks. Raising slowly and shakily to her knees, she grabbed the weapons that she had killed him with and thrust them into her satchel. Withdrawing her hands, Shameeca saw that they had been covered in blood, its coppery taste almost in her mouth, what little bile she had left rising in her throat. Slowly backing away, she picked up the rifle and started to run, run away from the scene of the murder she had done. She was no better than all those others on the island now. A monster, just like Lenny. The game changed people, some became heroes, others to villains. But it made monsters of them all in the end. And now it had claimed another innocent to its clutches and made Shameeca into a monster.

B46 - DANIEL "BOXER" CARVALHO: ELIMINATED.

((Shameeca continued elsewhere))