Survival Of The Fittest

The boy hugged her. he really was like her, just scared. he... he was just a kid like her. So good to have freinds in a game like this. so good. So..

Her thoughts were interupted ubruptly as the boy spun her around, grabbed her arms and thrust a knife to her chin. Oh gods... he he was going to kill her! No... she couldn't die... she was supposed to... supposed to see... her sister... she was... oh gods.

"Now lets go unless you want to end up like her." he whispered making a motion with his knife toward Brittany Ashworths body.

He... he KILLED.... he was going to kill her! oh no... She slowly nodded her head in compliance and allowed herself to be walked across the lobby. She really hoped franco would save her... she didn't want to die...

Alas, this wasn't meant to be. she was quickly and silently dragged out of the building and dragged twoard was looked like a park.

Continued: Friends? What are friends?

"Good." Paris lead Anna toward the exit of the hotel. The good thing about being in a hotel that their are multiple exits, and so they can slip out of the hotel. The Gossip King, with bolo knife in hand exited the hotel into its courtyard. They were away from that bumbling idiot called Franco. The stupid fool can't even pay attention, it was really a shame that he couldn't kill him. It didn't matter there were plenty of annoying students he can prey on. Every kill would be worth while, especially because it'll get him closer to becoming the sole winner and surviver of Survival of the Fittest.

The morning sun was hot, the cold crisp air in the morning started to vanished and the summer day sun started to shine. It looked like it was the early hours of the day, maybe 12:00 or 1:00 PM. He took Anna at knife point, escorting out of the hotel grounds and back onto the central path of town. It was a cruel world he was put in, not to mention stupid as they walked down the street of this abandonded town.

He walked quickly, not letting Anna drag along with him. Everytime Anna would slow down the point of the knife would prick against her skin. It was an uncomfortable situation for her however it granted Paris the luxury of escaping various situations he might come across with. She was merely a puppet to him.

Spotting a park nearby Paris decided to station there next. He needed a more peaceful scene than the one he just had at the hotel. However he could not stay at the hotel because Franco and his gang of goons might come after him. That is of course Franco gets himself blown up while fighting the others that busted on inside. He didn't care, he was away from him now thats what mattered. if he ever crossed him again he would definatly try to kill him, hopefully he'd have lost his bazooka by then. Paris continued to walk toward the park, looking behind him to make sure a hailing missle insn't headed for him.

Paris has officially checked out.

((Continued in Friends? What are friends?))

Russ stays in the lobby as a man comes by wanting to talk. As the man procedes Russ notices a white flag in the backround, maybe as a sign of peace. He then maybe realizes that this is a trick I mean after all this man has a gernade launcher or something similar. Wait a grenade launcher, this is not good. Russ than asks the man to lower his gun. Only then will he talk.

He procedes to meet this man half way and begins talking with him. He asks what his intentions are in this game. Is he here to play? Russ although tried to remain calm, he was still panicked as he couldnt help but continuing to notice the large barrel on his gun.

Russ begins to look at the other room and asks what is going on in the other room, and would like answers. This man seemed to be quite friendly and at the most Russ felt safe at the very least.

Russ then lowered his gun, because he felt a bit more comfortable with the situation. Although his finger was still on the trigger, it became limp. Russ then began to sweat, his face was almost unreconizable. His face began to change colours. He then began to look at the white surrender flag in the backround. He then began to listen to what else the man had to say.

((Okay, for the sake of clarity I'd like to clarify everyone's positions in the hotel before I can post. Where would Russ and Franco be? I know Marvin's in the hallway and his little "surrender" flag would've been noticed.))

(( Hi everyone sorry it was my fault and Neolosi kindly informed me of my mistakes in my last post and it was my mistake. I hope everything is ok now. Thank-you everyone   .))

Fuck. FUCK.

Marvin's hastily-improvised plan was falling apart with even more haste, now that it had attracted the attention of both weapon-wielders and placed him squarely in the middle of the crossfire line. His half-genuine surrender was just as quickly leading to a real surrender, and even now that might not be able to spare his life, especially when the two individuals possessing very high-powered weapons had very shaky trigger-fingers. As he came into view of both of them, rather indecently exposed (by Gilroy's high standards anyway), he bit his lip, sighed, and raised both hands up bent 90 degrees.

"So, here we all are..." his speech wavers. So much for all that confidence and bravado he'd revived in himself these past few minutes. If the tension kept up much longer, it would be so much for his bladder as well. "Franco..." he said, facing Mr. M79. "Russ, I think it was." he says, turning to Shotgun Man.

"Marvin Hendrick. Nice to meet you both." he stutters...closing his eyes.

Hell, if it all goes down like it should, not even the extra supplies will come out unsinged...

Marvin was now trying to buy himself (or rather, beg for) as much time as he could. Closer inspection showed that at least one of them wasn't wielding the weapon like an ice cold killer, and the other should clearly have other things on his mind, as looking over and past Franco's shoulder revealed an empty side of the lobby where two people were clearly there earlier.

Should he tell Franco and give Russ an advantage? Or save that for later? No, Franco could think that Paris was part of Marvin's setup and fire off at them... If Franco decided to fire right now, he'd easily take out all three and leave only a smoldering crater in the middle of the lobby as proof of their soon-to-be-shortlived existence. In the unlikely event the grenades were designated non-lethal, the disturbingly short range could leave them all crippled enough to be even easier prey for any opportunists if whatever was in them didn't kill them off. There was also the even unlikelier instance that it would be a tear gas grenade, but the same principles applied.

On the other hand the distraction might give Russ the opportunity to nail them both and take the extra supplies.

Wait...they don't know that I have extra supplies...do they? Marvin's backpack did not look that bloated...does it?

Silence, of course, would not buy as much time. The only thing that his churning mind could crank out was...

"I think we...you...you...and I...can work things out..." Marvin was no Franco when it came to verbal charm...

"Of course," a smirk worked its way across Franco's face. He shifted his grenade launcher form Marvin to Russell periodically. "We can work this out. We're all gentlemen here, aren't we?"

Franco paused. He could feel his grin begin to crack. Beads of sweat were clouding his vision. His hands shook slightly holding the heavy weapon at length. He had to change his approach. This situation couldn't be handled with kid gloves.

"Look, neither of you are stupid," holding one had up in feigned surrender; Franco lowered his weapon. "I'm not planning on dying any time soon, and I'm sure you're not either. Let's all just take one step back, lower our guns, and we can talk strategy. We can work this all out. Hell, with the three of us we could even take this damn thing."

Come on now you goons. Let's work this thing out. I am not doing all the work myself.

He tapped his oil-slick black oxford shoes against the tiles of the hotel lobby. He looked back and saw that Anna, and Paris, had both gone. Franco muttered a string of curses under his breathe and began to think. Plans had to change, that little sod had got away before Franco could deal with him. His cowardly glances at Marvin and Russell turned into a glare.

"Come on gentlemen," Franco steadied himself. He held his gun at his side out of Russell‘s request. "We're all friends here."

What a wonderful feeling, a sigh of relief hit Russell. I mean what a nice guy. That's what Russell wanted some friends and/or allies. He heard the solid gold words come out of Francos mouth. He decided what the hell, what better strategy to have on the group then a guy with a grenade launcher. With Franco and Russ alone they can dominate the whole game.

Russell proceded to talk with Franco and motioned for Marvin to come talk with both of us.

What if this guy is out to get us and he is only using us to get himself farther. I mean, this guy must be really confident, and know what he is doing in order to trust a guy with a shotgun. He must be very comfortable with the way he was approaching both of us. Franco had mentioned about he didnt want to die and we shouldnt either. Although I agreed with him. He did mention all three of us could win this thing, I thought to myself how could three of us win it, I mean there can only be one survivor. Still the way he said it and the tone in his voice made me want to believe him. I trusted him, I didnt even know him and I trusted him.

As Russ noticed Franco placed his gun at his side that Russ had suggested. Russ than realized he must want to be on good terms if he is listening so well. Russ soon lowered his shotgun and extended his arm.

" I can only trust a man if he swears, to keep his trust in me and agree to work with Marvin and I to defeat all other without betraying each other. SO I ask you Franco do you agree to those terms?"

Caught in the middle, and no way out. Or was there? Marvin watched as the two lowered their weapons against each other...and him. He listened as they offered a truce, but it wasn't a moment for relaxation. He was trying hard to force himself to trust either of them, and at the same time keep his bladder contents in check.

"I...agree," Marvin adds when all is said. He's unarmed, and his bare hands are raised. so that wouldn't make anybody suspicious.

One thing that would've made them really suspicious though, was the way Marvin constantly looked up and past Franco's shoulder. Sooner or later the boy was bound to notice that the guy he'd trusted had deceived him and made off with the girl. What a reflection on his own life that was. And then there was the matter of his bloated daypack. Who knew what weapon of mass destruction (they'd suspect) he hid in bag #49?

"We can definitely team up..." he said, while staring over at the other section of the lobby. "And we'd already have a record...to start..." he continued, adding a frightened chuckle at the end.

Marvin took what would probably be his last stare at his backpack. He remembered when he was pleasantly surprised by his special gift back at the party. And at least then he'd held the clear upper hand. Now the tables have turned, and he'd give anything to be pleasantly surprised now...

Is this how I'll be remembered!? As a fucking number?!

"I swear," Franco held up one hand. He looked Russell straight in the eyes. He looked over to Marvin and smirked. "On my dead grandmothers grave. I agree to your terms."

Franco's mind wheeled. This was fantastic. With these two on his side they would unstoppable. Franco grinned at Marvin and Russell. They could take this thing, the three of them could kill the competition and maybe have a little fun along the way. Franco didn't want to kill anyone, but with these other two he hardily had to. Besides, who deserved to live more than Franco. He was privileged, he was wealthy, he was well-adjusted and charming. He was probably a fan favourite already among the viewers at home in his mind. They wanted him to win.

He eyed Marvin eagerly. What a surprise. Marvin had been a close friend and ally of Franco outside the confines of the Island and now they had found each other. He wondered what weapon he might have, and how powerful they truly would be. As far as he knew most other people had knives and axes and stuff like that, with three guns they could be at the top of the food chain, even with two guns.

"So Marvin," Franco nodded and grinned at his new ally. "It's great to see you again. What weapon did they strap you with?"

Looking over to Russell, Franco nodded and nudged in silent approval of his shotgun. He had no idea who this kid was outside of the Island, and normally he wouldn't even approach such a boy, but the rules had changed. The Island was a new playground and a whole new game. It was similar to the school in some ways. You had to watch out for number one at all times, and Franco had always looked out for himself, usually by using others. Here, he could do the same thing, but instead of posturing for popularity and mocking others for superiority, Franco had to use people to kill others. He already had two. They could fight their way to the top. He would use them to get to the top. Just like he would use others later.

He could do it. He had already started...

Marvin was still transfixed on the large, glaring number 49 military-stenciled onto his backpack as Franco asked him what weapon he had. After which the only thing Marvin could hear was the sound of his own breath. 49 was his number, and that number was now up. With it was all that last-minute confidence he had worked up in that mental pep-talk in that ladies' room stall and soon was all that food he'd stuffed down for the energy that was wasted in the tension.

"You know...I didn't get a cool weapon at first... but I found one." he stuttered, maintaining that creepy death wish smile on his fear-riddled face.

Time's running out...I need something...anything...

He knew he didn't have a real weapon as he slowly picked up his backpack. Not even his fists could stand up to whatever heavy-weapon-wielding maniac that was loosed upon him, even if that maniac was one of his friends, as it were. Lifting the thing though felt like he was lifting up a small car, even though the extra supplies really weren't that heavy.

"Yeah...uh huh..." he continued as he fiddled with the latch that would open the pack, chuckling briefly as a tear came to his eye. "Got this one off Da-"

Marvin's speech suddenly halted after that first syllable, and the only thing he heard was the click of the latch releasing. Suddenly the past year of  the universe life flashed before his eyes. It was a universe he'd commanded with iron fist, subject only to the will of the acid tongue. It was a universe that he suddenly realized he'd centered around one person. One whose existence had provided such a much-needed outlet for all his stress, all his worry. But as long as that person still existed, there was still some semblance of harmony in him. Something to keep him safely rotating in a comfortable orbit.

Now that person was gone by his own hand. There was no harmony, no gravity to keep him and his universe in control, and now he was being pulled to the center, filling in that gap. And already he was experiencing what it was like to be in that position, when everyone around said they trusted you but their intentions were clear.

His cracking smile dissolved into one of unearthly shock, and this once-powerful man started to snivel.

"Yeah. We won't have to worry about him anymore...in fact, none of you have to worry about a thing... because I got..."

Marvin's movements turned spastic as he suddenly plunged his arm into the backpack to pull out a weapon that didn't exist to save him from these two.

He wasn't thinking anymore. Regret was far from even the last thing on his mind.

Franco raised an eyebrow at Marvin. What was he trying to pull? He looked quizzically upon his old friend and took a step back. He aimed his grenade launcher at Marvin and looked over to Russell for conformation that Marvin had gone crazy. It seemed Russell was on edge too. He backed up and whispered to his new ally.

"I don't think we can trust him," Franco glared at Marvin and kept his weapon levelled. "He's going crazy and he's obviously hiding something from us."

It was a strange overwhelming feeling that came upon Franco. Initially this game had frightened him out of his wits, but with his confidence gathered and his new ally found, Franco was getting a sense of the game. In the real world he gave people what they wanted. He pledged his loyalties to those in power to increase his own standing, but now, there was no one in power. They were all in the same situation; it was all a matter of how you dealt with it now. Realizing this Franco eyed Marvin in a new way. Once he served as his right-hand lackey, but now, the tables had turned.

Now Marvin was the snivelling coward, just like Franco had been. He was a parasite, much like Franco had been. He drew off of those in power and they let him stay because he could talk his way out of it and pay his dues. Now Marvin was in hat role only he wasn't nearly as good at it. Franco looked down on him. If he started begging maybe he would spare his life, but he knew Marvin would never beg.

Franco's thoughts formed worlds on his lips as he looked at Marvin. "I'm in charge now Marvin," he grinned. "But I'm much less naive than you ever were as a leader. You should have never kept me around. You should have known this day would come, you should have made moves to prevent it, but I guess you're just not as good as me. Now. Beg."

Franco pointed his gun right at Marvin's face. A wide grin spread across his face. His eyes beamed with the viciousness of a victorious politician.

"He can't be trusted, Russell," he looked over at the stout boy. "He's dead weight. You know what we have to do."

Franco paused as he gave Marvin a moment let it all sink it in. His finger tightened on the trigger. Even if he did beg, he was still going to kill him. He was going to make his move for the top.

What did he mean you should have never kept me around. Does this mean Franco will treat me the same way I mean this is unjust and unfair. Although I do not think he would take the chance as long as I stay close to Franco, I have the advantage he wouldnt risk an explosion at close range. Although I could kill him at close range I do have a shotgun. Non the less I do feel much more safe around a guy with a Grenade Launcher.

Russell soon looks at the crazed man Marvin and without giving an answer right away. He soon realized that Franco was right he was going crazy and cannot be trusted. What a shame, and what a terrible thing this game can do to one person. He then whispers back to Franco:

" Your right he CANNOT be trusted we do need to take him out. There is one problem of course I am not a weopan master but if you were to take that shot with that launcher. The results could harm us both especially from this close of range. I suggest maybe letting me handle it. I mean it would be less noisy."

Of course, Russell never wanted to kill someone, he just figured it would be a lot easier if he started to kill now. Maybe he will get used to it.  If he started now, he could get used to the weopan and the smell of the corpse. He has to show he is strong to Franco and then maybe he will trust him more. I mean with us two we could be strong , very strong.

Russell said out loud:

"Listen we gave you a chance to show us your weopan nicely. It is obvious you are too weak and are hiding something from us."

Russ then whispered to Franco:

" After we deal with this guy, if you still agree to finish this guy off. I suggest we decide on a full plan to get us through this game."

Russ then took a deep breath and waited for a response. He then began to reminisce, of his father raping him. Russ soon got angry his face changed in colour and raised his shotgun and pointed it at the nervous Marvin.

"YOUR TIME IS UP NOW" With the finger on the trigger, he aimed.

"It was Damien's mom! He set this all up so we could kill each other as her vengeance! Can't you see that!?" Marvin pleaded before double-taking to the shotgun man. "Russ! You gotta stop this guy! He'll blow you to hell and back!"

None of them were buying it, as his hand that had dug into the backpack, searching for a weapon now seemed to be just digging itself in hoping it would be Marvin's last surviving intact appendage. Something for the world to remember him by in case the big number 49 on his daypack was singed beyond recognition. Then he turned to Franco again.

Shit...I'm sorry...what the hell do I say?! I'm sorry!

"If you kill me, Reneé'll find out!" Marvin was already sobbing, frantically clawing for those few split-seconds of time that were denied him when the two put their hands on the trigger. A wet spot started to appear around the fly of his pants. It was larger than it seemed thanks to the super-absorbent material that made up high-class underwear. "She'll kill you...or Nicole will kill you!"

The nozzles of two different heavy weapons now stared him down worse than his entire gang ever could with their favorite victim. At least, their previous favorite victim. He looked into the gaping vortex of each nozzle, each of them a black hole tearing his soul into two before decided to disperse its shattered fragments across the universe he commanded. And he could hear the gusts of wind and everything flying into those nozzles, as well as his own breathing and the sound of his heart thumping. It was getting louder. Soon it was deafening, his mind trying futilely to hope that this was all just a bad dream, that things would somehow, some way turn out all right, that he wasn't being betrayed by his minions as part of Nicole's vengeance.

Then it all suddenly stopped. He remembered what he wanted to do right before he came here. The voice came clear as crystal through the silence, reassuring as if it were Jesus himself speaking. Tears stopped seeping out of his face, and it restored in itself just enough of his famous confidence to be noticeable, like a hero facing down the barrels of an enemy firing squad.

Yeah...that's what I wanted. I wanted to go out with a...

"Bang." he whispered, a smirk crossing his face. He half-hoped that was how his dismembered head would look as his body was blown apart by the impending explosion - landing facing a camera, his defiant smirk molded firmly into his face until the flesh decayed, leaving only his skull and its grisly grin.

With one spontaneous final swoop, Marvin squinted his eyes shut and swung the entire backpack at an upward angle, in the direction of Russ' shotgun with his hand still in it. The action was done with the knowledge that the explosion of Franco's grenade would take them all out, and death by that would be quick and relatively painless. He would certainly suffer a lot less pain than being gutted by a shotgun before the explosion, as he figured the sheer thickness of the backpack's materials would probably even be able to shield his arm. Being vaporized would be... almost liberating. And he'd take his treasure with him all the way to wherever the hell he was supposed to go after death.

Nicole won't have the last laugh.

((BTW, I reserved death rights to Nealosi. Creative tour de force.))

((With permission from both narfinkool and LaZardo this post has been brought to you by Nealosi. Mmm, mmm good!))

"Marvin," Franco glared at Marvin. He eyed Marvin's fingers in the shape of a gun. "You know I could never hurt a friend like you."

He took a step back and watched Marvin's backpack swing wide. Marvin really wasn't handling the situation very well, and that was an understatement. Franco watched him closely, noting the signs of his fall from grace. He was panicked most of all. Marvin could have saved himself too. He could have begged and demanded forgiveness. He could have pledged himself to Franco. He would have let him live in that case, but Marvin was a liability now. After all his years on the top Marvin couldn't even imagine what the bottom would be like.

Franco sighed and looked down the shaft of his gun into Marvin's dribbling face. He was all framed up for Franco. With Marvin out of the picture he would be the highest he could go, but no, he could even go higher. Here on the Island he had finally realized the opportunity he had been granted. There was always the chance he could get hurt, but if people like Marvin became this, and people like Russell ran around his every word? Franco smiled to himself. He still had his doubts if he could do it himself though. He looked over to Russell with a dubious smile.

"No, Marvin," Franco shook his head, sending a few greasy locks of dirty blonde hair swishing around his pert arrogant face. "I could never hurt you. But, you're a liability, and I'm sure that Russell here has no qualms about splattering your stomach across the hallway."

Franco looked over to Russell. The stout young man stared at Marvin with squinted eyes of determination. Franco could sense a fear in the boy. It was buried deep behind his determined grimace, but Franco could smell it in his upturned nose. Russell cocked his shotgun in threateningly but his sweating hands gave him away. He shook slightly, his face twitched and his clenched teeth chattered together like pearly-white dice.

He kept his blue eyes locked on Marvin than, but his words floated their way over to Russell. Like a low lullaby sung into the wind to comfort him against the coming storm.

"Russell," Franco said lowly and lightly to the young man. "He wants to hurt you. He will hurt you if we keep him around. Not me. We can protect each other, Russell. I just want to help you. Come on, Russell."

Russell panted as sweat dripped down the side of his face. His heaving gradually got worse and worse until finally his shoulders where pounding up and down. His eyes narrowed as he took a single step closer to Marvin. Russell's bulky form loomed around the pathetic form of Marvin. Russell's panting got louder and his trembling more and more violent.

"Russell, stay with me. You have to do this."

"Ha."

"Russell, this is for both our sakes."

"Ha!"

"Russell, just do it!"

HA!

"Russell!"

HAA!

"DO IT!"

"YAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

At last a primal scream escaped Russell that reached its crescendo in a thunderous blast. Huge black flecks escaped the barrel of his Remington 870. Reaching out in fiery agony the shots flew through towards Marvin.

Franco wheeled back and covered his face with his free arm as the blast thundered across the room. The world spun around him. The spinning room became a chaotic collage of bland wallpaper and looming shadows. His heart skipped a beat and his mind went numb. It was a stupefying experience knowing that someone was about to die. Franco felt numb and scared, but there was also a sense of ecstasy. It was the power and the rush of excitement to the head. He felt like his brain was bloated and floating in a sea of adrenaline. He was lost and ecstatic, and he was alive.

The black beads ripped through Marvin's chest like a broadsword through hot butter, leaving behind them small trails of red gore and black blood. Franco's face contorted into a twisted grin. His eyes were wide in shock, and his body utterly still as Marvin was flung back by the power of the blow and sent skidding across the hotel floor.

Russell stood panting and staring at the splintered form of Marvin. Slowly he calmed himself and slowed his breathing down to a normal rate. He looked over to Marvin again and hoisted his shotgun up against his shoulder. A look of anger spread over his face as he cocked the weapon and grunted violently at Marvin's dying figure.

"Die you fucking-!"

"That won't be necessary, Russell," Franco's voice was calm but disturbingly quiet. He held out his hand to stop the young man's advance. "Conserve your bullets. I want to finish this. We go way back, Marvin and me."

Russell's rage filled eyes glared down on Franco but eventually he found his calm again and retracted. He stood staring at the bleeding body splayed acroos the floor.

Franco steadied himself and managed to move the muscles in his legs again. His body still pulsed with adrenaline, but his head had regained control of his body. He shook himself out of his trance on Marvin's body and walked up to him slowly. Russell stared on.

Kneeling down to Marvin's head Franco whispered his last goodbyes.

"You know, I didn't think that I could do this initially, but when push comes to shove you have to watch out for number one, Marvin. You lost your cool, and I can't have that. Truth be told, Marvin. I'm scared. I'm so scared. But you know what the difference between me and you is? I kept my cool. I kept my head on my shoulders and I did what had to be done," Franco look Marvin in the eyes. His voice was low and soothing, like he was slowly coaxing Marvin to his untimely death. "You were always weak, Marvin, but this was you at your worst. I want you to know that. This wasn't my fault. It was your own."

Franco stood up and held his grenade launcher out in front of him, pointed at Marvin's collar. He kept his eyes locked on his long time ally. He kept his voice low and directed to Marvin.

"I didn't think I could do this, Marvin, but Russell was just the push I needed. If he can shoot someone, than so can I. I'm going to win this thing, Marvin. I have to get back home. I have to stay on top. That's what life is all about, Marvin," Franco paused and squeezed lightly on the trigger. "I hope you realize that now. I can't have people like you holding me back... Goodbye, Marvin. It's been swell."

A wide grin spread across Franco's perpetually arrogant face and twisted it into a visage of twisted, dire delight. His eyes turned fierce as a pulled down on the trigger hard, releasing the small rubber ball at a wicked velocity into the explosive collar of boy 49, Marvin Hendrick.