Survival Of The Fittest

"Okay."

Alessio threw the trash of the energy bar on the ground and took the bag with his free hand.

He was about to leave.

But no.

"Let's be honest."

He dropped the bag again and walked to the direction of Maria with both of his hands gripping the sword now. He felt like a Jedi, sadly. No, it was not as fun as being a Jedi.

"Let's be honest, you will eventually kill me. I know it. You will go back to Michael, he's probably somewhere you know where he is. You two will try to kill me again. Let's be honest, if I don't-"

He swung his sword at Maria.

"if I don't kill you now, you will eventually kill me."

Note to self: Don't say such things out loud next time. It sounds crazy. He should keep quiet. Like he always was.

Maria was almost relieved when it looked like Al was about to leave and let her live. Almost.... Before he started to come towards her with the sword and he was going to kill her. Because he thought that she was going to kill him. She hadn't even been thinking of killing him in the first place. Michael possibly had wanted to kill Al more than her. Honestly, she had wanted to kill Kimiko for what she did to Caleb. But she hadn't thought about that for a while. Now she was about to face off against a dangerous Al.

"Wha-What the fuck are you-"

She saw him swing the sword towards her head and her eyes widened in surprise. She then reacted by ducking it out of instinct and he just managed to cut off a few hairs off her head. She then let out a cry of anger and she lunged her body towards his.

"You bastard!!"

She used her body to knocked him down to the ground and she was now on top of him. She was sure that she knocked the wind out of him. Good! The little shit deserved it!

"....I'll fucking kill you...!"

She took a swing at his face with her fist-hard. She wanted to hurt him first.

Alessio did not know how to handle swords, and it showed. He missed her. He was hungry.

Actually no, the pain was Maria diving into him to tackle him down. He knew it. She was planning to kill him. Good decision that he did not trust her.

While he got a hit to the face, he still held the sword with the right hand. But he couldn't see or aim, because he closed his eyes due to the hit.

So he dropped the sword to use his body force to grab Maria's arms with both of his hands to stop her from hitting him.

Maria felt Al grab onto her arms and she tried to yank away from him. She had to get her sword back and finish him off. Even if she didn't really want to, despite her outburst of het saying that she would kill him. She never thought that she had to do this so soon. Even if she did see Michael again.... She wouldn't know what she would say to him.

"Let....Let me go!!" She snapped down at Al out of frustration and anger. "Why would you even start this stupid fight with me?!"

"..."

There was no time to talk for him. He had her arms, that's good.

Now, he tried to get rid of her weight to make him the one over Maria, not the other way around.

Maria felt herself getting rolled onto her back with Al on top of her instead now and she stopped struggling against him. She was going to die and there was nothing that she could do about it. This was going to ruin what she had planned on doing. She had wanted to find Kimiko and ask her why she killed Caleb. She had wanted to find Michael and ask him if he could forgive her and ask to be his partner again. She had wanted to find Junko and just give her a hug because she missed her. But now she couldn't be able to do those things because she couldn't keep her mouth shut and she had provoked Al into a state of taking her life away.

She glanced up to look at Al's face and she was trying to not look so afraid. Of him. She couldn't look away from her soon-to-be killer. She couldn't.

"....I'm sorry, Al...."

That was all she could say. And she meant it.

Alessio managed to kick Maria down, so that he was on top of her. He had control. But he was not calm, he breathed very loud. Behind Maria was Cameron, who was staring at him.

Maria was so confusing. She was sorry, but wanted him to die. She was confused. Perhaps she just lied to him for the sake of pity. God, looking at her makes Alessio feel extremely uncomfortable. He pitied her, but he hated her and her stupid thoughts. He knew that it was right to kill, but it was wrong to kill. Maria and Mike did not need to tell him.

If Al would give Maria pity, he should've also gave Henry and Cameron pity. These two people were more likeable than Maria, of all people. He quit eye contact with Cameron.

He untightened his grip on Maria's arm with his right hand.

"You know who deserves being killed?"

He grabbed the sword that was lying some feets in front of a shelf.

"Not you. But not me either. No one here. Not even you."

Alessio used all of his force of his right hand to see how much damage this new sword can do by hitting Maria with it. After the first strong hit, he repeats with weaker hits.

She doesn't deserve to die. Yet she will. Cochise High didn't deserve to get abducted by terrorists. Yet they did.

"This game isn't about deserving to die or justice. It's not a game show where you vote people out. This is not a game or a story."

This was his life. No one else's. The things he experiences was all about him. It was his life that makes him experience all of this. If he was dead, he would not experience this anymore. He would not experience life anymore. He would not experience his future. His future that was about to happen soon. With a therapist, perhaps two, perhaps many. People that will take care of him. People that will pity him, people that will know him. Perhaps even people that will love him, that will take care of him.

Oh god, this was fucked up.

Maria would only be silent as Al was speaking to her and then she felt more dread as he picked up the sword. She was too scared to move her free hand to stop him. She just watched him with frightened eyes. She might be a bit of an mean person sometimes, but she had a fear of dying so young. Al was right. No one did deserve to die on this island. They were all in a very shitty situation that-

Oh god, no, no, no, no!

Maria's eyes widened more as Al raised the sword and he struck it down into her stomach, penetrating through her flesh. She let out an audible moan of agonizing pain as he pulled the weapon out of her and he started to cut at her arms, chest and stomach more with smaller cuts.

"N-No.... Aaah.... S-Stop....!"

Maria's body was starting to go numb with the pain and she could taste blood in her mouth. She felt like she was going to choke to death on her own blood.

It was too much for her. Too fucking much.

"It.... Nnnn.... hurts.... A-Al...."

She felt tears start to fall down her cheeks. She didn't want to cry like this. But she couldn't help it. Al's face was slowly becoming a blur to her.

"P-Please...."

Caleb.....

She weakly raised her hand to touch Al's face and she was struggling to breathe. Her breaths were getting weaker and weaker. She had to speak even if she did feel so, so tired.

"Al.... You have to win...." She was wheezing quietly and she blinked a few times. "....Otherwise, my death will mean nothing if you die too.... Guhh.... P-Promise me, Al.... Win this...."

She was...touching...his...face.

God. The only person he was comfortable with being touched like that was Penelope. But Penelope is also on this island, meaning that she's dead too.

And Maria's words. They sounded so similiar to Henry's. Alessio avoided looking at Maria's face and instead looked at Cameron.

"I can't promise you anything."

He looked down at his shirt. Fuck, he's bloodied. This was disgusting.

"Your death means something even if I get killed as well. It means the one who eventually ends up winning will not be here on this island forever."

Or it did not matter. Whatever. He was confused.

"I don't, I don't get you and you caring about my life. Do you believe in hea-heaven or so? What would've been more important to-to you? If I died in this fight or if you died in this fight? If I died, you'd still be able to do something. If you die, everything's over for you. Get me? Everybody is selfish now."

No one but him cared for him.

"Nobody cares about you, or me, on the island. Nobody. Everybody's selfish."

But lucky Maria. Soon, she would not deal with these kind of problems, these thoughts, this pain, island anymore. But Alessio was torturing Maria with still giving her time to think more painful thoughts and experience the wounds he had caused. Alessio should not be talkative again.

"...Sorry for talking too much. This must be painful for you."

She was weakened. She was dying. Alessio stood up. She couldn't fight back, she was not a danger anymore.

"Arrivederci."

He put the sword into her one last time. Lucky her.

The only danger was Michael eventually hearing the announcement of him having killed his partner. No, on a second thought, it was no danger. It was a warning to Michael.

Maria was barely able to listen to Al talk. The wounds felt like they were getting worse. Being stabbed felt like it was worse than getting shot. Not like she had been shot before, but it didn't really matter. Her life would be over soon. Al couldn't promise her anything. That was kind of fair. There was a possibility that he would die too. And then whoever goes home, would be the only survivor of this shit.

Would it be Junko? Michael? Alvaro? Kimiko? Brendan? Isabel? Or someone she would not suspect would win?

Al was still talking and then he was getting off of her. She coughed and felt a few specks of her blood splatter onto her chin. Was he going to finish it for her?

"....Hah...."

She shut her eyes due to the exhaustion and she had a small smile on her face.

Then Al said something and she felt the sword pierce her through her chest. She felt it twist in her and all she could let out was a gurgle from deep in her throat. Then she saw nothing.

G044 - Maria Cucinotta - Deceased

((Coleen Reagan continued from Think About Your Life))

Whatever had possessed her to bring Arthur back here, back to the second floor of the asylum, she would never quite be sure about. They were near to the offices where the two of them had happened upon Bern. Bernadette... it seemed like only minutes that she had been trying to offer a comforting hand when bad news hung over her head. That was in the morning to midday hours of... of sometime. Who knew what day it was anymore? Was she losing track already?

One.

She woke up in the library, terrified and thinking about being restrained in her chair, forced to watch people die in some sick snuff film. She didn't want this. She remembered walking along the shore, where she ran into Arthur and... and two others. Their faces started to cloud up.

Two.

Now she was in the gym. That's right... that's when Bradley and Alba... then Kimiko. Kimiko killed Bradley, and that was the first of her classmates Coleen saw die right in front of her eyes. It was horrible, how he clutched at the spear but was never able to pull it out. Arthur still had that spear, and she could swear Bradley's blood still stained it.

Three.

The art room. With Mitch's body. She didn't want to think about that too much, but at least that's right around the time they found Bern.

Four.

That morning by the cliffs, Coleen considered climbing over the fence. It's silly to think that Arthur and maybe even Bernadette would have stopped her, even with the understanding that if she died, they were both one step closer to living. Bern had probably wanted her to live, and after what happened with Brendan, at the very least she had left her a gift.

Five.

This was the fifth day. That's right... this was the fifth day. It was just her, Arthur, the spear ripped from Bradley's heart and the rifle Bernadette set aside before she died so suddenly. They had skulked around, avoiding others at least until now. She had some form of defense now, and it made her feel not quite as naked as before. She had Arthur around too, but after witnessing what had happened with Brendan...

She couldn't afford too many thoughts. She needed something, someone at her back or she knew for sure that she wasn't going to make it through this. She just hoped that it was going to be Cameron. Or... hell, even Vanessa, wherever she was. Coleen blew through pursed lips to get a few strands of hair that had been tickling her nose. She had Arthur to her left, and she needed all the comfort she could get, so she at least afforded her old hairstyle that made her feel the slightest bit pretty, five days without a shower be damned.

She was ready to turn toward the offices just a short walk down the hall when she heard a noise coming from nearby. It was not a voice Coleen liked... like somebody pushing an iron rod through a pile of filth. Wondering why she thought she might know what that sounded like, Coleen raised her rifle up high, pointed near to the ceiling, and cautiously approached the door.

[Arthur Bernstein continued from Think About Your Life.]

Wandering the asylum was like wandering through a dreamscape. His last few nights hadn't been exactly fruitless when it came to dreams, but they had been more of the memory type. He remembered crying, and laughing, and throwing things at his brothers. He remembered dusty basements and grassy backyards, and the day he broke his nose. He remembered his father and his thousand yard stare, looking into dead air space, finding ripples and static in the particles of the air, a sight so captivating that eventually Arthur learned to live with it, to deal with his father's eccentricities because he was one of the only family members he had left.

He even remembered his mother.

And yet, he found himself forgetting more than he had ever intended to. Arthur struggled to remember a time where the smell of salt water wasn't constantly on his nose. The bright lights and chatter of the hallways at Cochise faded in and out, like a badly tuned television, blurring with the ruined halls of the asylum. He struggled to remember what it was like to pick up a book and read. He wondered if his hands could form the correct posture to hold his own pencil.

Okay, that was a bit of an overstatement. Of course he still remembered how to hold pencils - all hyperbole. Extended metaphors for an absent audience. The point still stood. The island was changing him. The game was changing him.

Coleen was changing him, in ways he'd never admit.

Not even to himself.

Suddenly, a scream rang out through the hall. Coleen tensed up, brought her rifle up high. Arthur tensed his grip on his spear. It was part of him now, even if he had been fortunate enough to never use it. Now, though, that innocence - if it could be called that - was in danger of being lost.

Though it wasn't himself he was worried about.

If Arthur had had his way, she would have never fired the gun. Now, the best he could hope for was that she'd never land a shot with it.

Maria was dead. Her corpse was bloody, just like his shirt. He wanted to shower, he wanted to take a bath.

He calmed down a bit, checked if he had any major injuries. His face hurt. What was making him uncomfortable in addition to the pain was that there was a feeling as if Alessio walked through a spider web. Because he probably did during the fight.

He walked to Maria's bag and equipped it.

Now, Maria and him were even. Where she left his own bag, he had no clue, though.

He heard steps and stopped his own steps to make sure that the steps he heard were not his own steps. Then, he stared at the door to look at who arrives, with his shamshir still in hand.

This is not what it looks like. He should be prepared to say that.

Coleen wasn't sure who she was expecting to see inside the closet, but it sure as hell wasn't Alessio.

He was standing almost directly atop a body. Freshly dead, her face was somewhat obscured but Coleen could tell straight away that it wasn't Vanessa. As far as she knew, there were still four living members of Peyote Coyote, so... so that much was a relief. He was, however, still standing over a recently dead girl, if the bright red blood was any indication.

There was somebody else, another body behind the girl and behind Alessio. That one... that one was easier to tell who it was. The way the pants were ripped, that shirt... even if there was a big red splotch in the middle of it, she could still recognize that shirt almost instantly as Cameron wore it to practices rather often.

Cameron. It was Cameron. Coleen tasted bile as soon as the sight registered that she was looking at the cold, slain body of her friend, with her killer having returned to the scene. Or, perhaps, he never even left. He just parked right next to her like he deserved to be anywhere near her.

"What are you doing here?" Coleen said. At least, she tried to say it, but it came out more of a choked whisper. The gun was becoming hard to hold straight, her wrists were trembling and it took most of her self-reserve to keep her shoulders from following suit. The one eye Alessio could see had opened wide, staring at the only living person in the room. "Why... are you here?"

Arthur tensed up as Coleen peered into the closet. The smell of blood, while initially difficult to notice given its prevalence in the world around him, hit him like a tidal wave, blowing him over and dragging him underneath gallons upon gallons of pressure. He couldn't see what was going on, or who she was talking to, but with the feeling he got from her tone of voice - or rather what little voice there was to hear -  he knew it couldn't be anything good. He looked over Coleen's shoulder, holding his breath.

Two bodies, sprawled across the floor. He recognized both of their faces, but he wasn't sure if they'd recognize him if they had swapped places. Above them stood another body, this one breathing. Someone that Coleen recognized. Someone that Arthur had never seen before.

A sword stuck out of one of the corpses. For some reason, Arthur's mind drifted again to video games. Swords beat axes, axes beat lances, lances beat swords. That's the weapon triangle, from...Fire Emblem. I think that's what it was called. Hopefully, we won't have to see if it works in real life too.

At least the odds are in my favor if it does.

Arthur took a step back, putting himself more firmly in the boy's line of sight. The most important message to send was that Coleen wasn't alone. She didn't look like she could be pulled away from the door, no matter how much he felt the need to get in her way. She'd need a clear shot if the gun was going to come into play, too.

Wait, wasn't I just thinking about how I don't want her to have to shoot anyone? And now, suddenly, it's a serious possibility. I'd better step in a bit more. Or maybe take a step back?

Indecision. Always indecision.

"Easy," Arthur said, staring the boy down. He was really talking to Coleen, but he figured it applied to him too. Hell, it felt relevant to Arthur as well; his skin had gone white as a sheet, unbeknownst to him.

He could feel a storm brewing around the three of them. A storm that he was caught in the center of.