Survival Of The Fittest

Chance looked over as Sidney made his hesitant remark, noting quietly what he had said about Danya mentioning the terrorists having their vocal chords removed. As he milled over it to himself, he took note of the new sentence being written out in front of him.

As he read silently with a raised eyebrow, glancing upwards to look over her irritated, impatient expression, he shrugged a bit towards the rest of the group, as though to acknowledge their silence. His face remained passive and emotionless however, and once again he looked towards the newcomer, pursing his lips in what seemed like skepticism.

"Interesting...so you took down a terrorist,,, with only a crowbar is it?" he murmured. Chance looked her over again, noting her uninjured form. "A bit on the lucky side are we?"

With a slightly louder voice, he added, "Well I'd think that a person who had their vocal chords removed would thus be rendered mute. But you're right, Sid."

Turning back to the newcomer, he added in a calm voice, showing a good-natured smile. "Sorry for the twenty questions...but could you give us a better look at your neck?"

Rolling her eyes, Angelina couldn't help but think of the many ways that she'd like to end this nosy little bastard's life, and how easily that it might be able to be done. Of course, keeping up with the charade, she narrowed her eyes at Chance's questioning, let her shoulders sag down as though she was frustrated that they didn't believe her.

Yeah, you're damn right I'm frustrated.

Not knowing what other avenue to take in order to get them to trust her at all, she knelt down, wiped out her words from the dirt, and wrote one word, in response to Chance's statement: VERY. Absentmindedly, she rubbed the dirt from her finger as she stood up. That was one thing, Kaige hated getting her hands dirty, but in her line of work, it was almost unavoidable. Here, she hoped at least it would give her some semblance of believability. Rolling her eyes at Chance again, she tilted her head upwards a little, throwing up her hands in frustration.

If this doesn't work, he'll probably go for the gun, and if he does that, well...that'll be a very large mistake, on his part. Please, just believe me, kid, for your own sake.

Kaige admitted to herself that she didn't want to kill these kids, for trust was something she hadn't felt in quite awhile. Even fake trust, would be somewhat assuring right now. She couldn't help but think that with all of her training, and all of her life being very militaristic...she was a little scared, herself.

Chance regarded the newcomer's irritated gestures with an expression of composure that was almost emotionless and impassive. In his mind, however, he could easily register her apparent aggravation. To be honest, he was starting to become somewhat frustrated himself.

Just for pity’s sake, he was almost tempted to trust the girl as another unfortunate, yet well-meaning student who only sought protection, and had the misfortune of lacking speech. However, at the same time, something in the back of his mind simply refused to stop nagging at him, toying with his gut instincts. He knew that to trust a newcomer like this would go either way: it would either help them or be the death of them all.

Then again, why didn’t he have trouble trusting Takara, Sid, and Tobs? It was strange, even Chance would admit it, but somehow to trust them upon first meeting them was something that came naturally to Chance. What was happening now was a similar situation. Distrusting this girl was only something that came naturally to him.

However, playing charades and word games with this newcomer was not getting them anywhere, and Chance knew that he was acting as the virtual barrier that separated the two parties. He was the one actively investigating her, while the rest of his group remained passive. For now it seemed up to him whether or not this person was to be trusted.

He knew that he could end the interrogation completely by just trusting the girl…but to do so would be to go against his gut instinct. But what would he do instead?


An idea suddenly came to him, and at the same time, it occurred to Chance that this might not be the smartest thing to do. In fact, Chance thought it seemed pretty stupid but…

Like my name, he said, in resolution. I’ll just have to take it.

After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Chance suddenly crouched and leapt forward, moving low across the ground to snatch the rifle off the ground as he flew past. He landed against the dirt feet first in a rough slide, dirt kicking up as he did so.

Standing up and stepping back a bit, he quickly pointed the rifle towards the newcomer, his lean chest heaving in rapid breathing.

“Nothing personal, hun,” Chance told her calmly. “But I’m going to have to ask you to show us your neck.”

As Chance quickly reached out, slid into the dirt, and grabbed the rifle away from the ground, sirens went off in the mind of Angelina Kaige. This was a game of charades that had to end, now, and now that this boy - Chance, had her weapon, he was a dead man. Angelina had been in some sticky situations in the past, and she knew that no matter what, if someone were to get your weapon, you have to make sure that they don't keep it, or else you've got nothing. Sure, she had another weapon she could use, but she DEFINITELY didn't want to lose her rifle, especially not a powerful one such as that.

She'd been thinking of teaming with these kids, but they had pushed a little too hard, and now, it was time for her to take action.

Sighing, though the sound the sigh made was odd, as she didn't have any vocal chords, she reached back to brush her hair up from her neck and stepped forward a little. As she stepped forward, her eyes went wide as her right foot caught on her ankle and she seemed to fall towards the ground. Of course, this was a maneuver that she had practiced for some time, a way to disarm an enemy without essentially having them realize, until it was too late. Chance was too far away for her to effectively disarm him, but she had another idea. Catching herself before she fell on her knee, she effectively crouched and did an odd variation of a summersault towards the boy, who she knew wouldn't realize that it wasn't her tripping over her own feet until it was too late. As she summersaulted towards the boy, she grabbed the pistol from out of her pocket and grabbed it by the barrel, and as she came to an essential stop right in front of Chance's legs, she trust the pistol up between his legs, hoping to cause some serious damage to the boy, hopefully causing him to drop the rifle.

At first, Chance found himself looking towards the newcomer in surprise when it seemed as though she wasn’t about to do anything… At this he frowned, and opened his mouth to speak again. The last thing he felt was a twinge of irritation at having to repeat himself in a seemingly endless and futile tirade…

That was before he suddenly saw the woman trip and fall over as she stepped forward. At this, Chance loosened his grip on the rifle in surprise, about to move forward to help her, when suddenly she landed near him. The next thing Chance knew, a white-hot searing pain sent him dropping with a rasped yell.

“Argh…!” His body crumpled and curled up tightly against the ground, wracked in what was no doubt excruciating pain.

Rapidly, Chance’s tanned face paled, and sweat started running down his face, now scrunched up and tense with agony. All this time he was groaning and gasping in utter pain, muttering incoherent curses as he rolled to one side.

Son of a...

Next to him, the rifle lay dropped and fallen, all too soon forgotten by the hurt and momentarily stunned Chance.

Upon felling Chance, Angelina grabbed at the rifle that was now laying on the ground. Grabbing it, she tossed it behind her, and stuffed her pistol back in her pocket. Glaring at the literally flabberghasted Sidney, Toby, and Takara, she grabbed Chance by the scruff of his neck, and in what undoubtedly gave her away as one of the terrorists, lifted him to his feet with one hand. Kaige didn't look to be all that strong, but her thinly muscled form held quite a bit of power within it. Lifting Chance to his feet, she slapped him in the face, and then drove a punch towrds his gut. Sighing again, she aimed another punch towards his gut again, wishing she could speak for all the world.

Damnit, kid. I was willing to trust you, to help you. And you had to fuck with me. You just HAD to fuck with me. If I had my vocal chords, I'd just admit - yeah, I'm a terrorist. You let me live and I'll show you how to get off this rock. But of course, Danya expected that, the bastard.

Upon seeing Chance getting pummelled on, Sidney sat up from his near-lying position and aimed the gun at the terrorist. Without too much conviction, he stammered out a warning to her.

"S-stop punching him! Stop that, you've done enough, goddamnit! I'll shoot you, I swear I will!"

While his lower abdomen still seared with burning pain from the unpleasant impact of the gun handle, Chance felt himself being grabbed by the back of his collar, lifted by an almost surprising, overwhelming strength up onto his feet. He balanced unsteadily, still not having completely recovered from his bout of pain.

Before he could react, he let out a gasp as a hand struck his face hard, sending his mind reeling from the impact. Helpless and dazed, Chance had little time to retaliate before a heavy impact into his stomach sent him falling backwards again, crumpling slightly. And all the while, his head was spinning, filled with incoherent thoughts in his stunned state.

The next punch came, this sending a spray of blood emitting from Chance’s mouth. He choked on it violently, a streak of red running across his hand as he wiped his mouth with it.

Damn it… am I bleeding inside?

Surprisingly, it was the taste of his own blood that helped him recover. Immediately, all that was left of the pain was simply a dull ache as adrenaline began to take over. Following the most recent blow, he quickly got back to his feet, clenching a handful of dirt.

With a snarl he thrust the handful into her face, hoping to blind her temporarily. With that as a distraction, he lifted his knee upwards and aimed a forward kick towards her abdomen, his sea-green eyes blazing with an earnest resolve.

That’s right…this is who you are. I knew you were one of them.

As the dirt flew into her eyes, Kaige grimaced and let out what would have been a cry of pain. Trying to blink her eyes to get it out, she grunted as his foot smashed into her abdomen, sending the breath flying from her lungs. Gasping for air, Kaige threw herself in what was almost a spear-tackle at Chance, trying to knock him over in case that idiot Crosby started shooting.

Damned kid, I was going to make this short and sweet, and you had to fuck with me. Now it's going to be long and painful, and after that, maybe I'll kill your friends, too.

Sidney, having aimed the gun at the terrorist, who was currently attacking his friend, stammered again, as he hadn't elicited a response from the terrorist. Of course, had he thought about it, he would have realized that she wouldn't be able to give one, anyway.

"Chance, w-what should I do?"

Sidney Crosby, the one who was known for having great leadership skills in a hockey game, seemed horribly out of his element in a fight for his life - and indeed he was. Reduced from proud hockey player to frightened kid, Sidney, for once in his life, had no idea what to do.

Still winded from having his stomach pummeled twice in a row, Chance found himself struggling to breathe as he stood at the ready. Right now, he was fully aware that he was in a situation that would not end pleasantly. Now that he was sure that he had finally revealed this person as a terrorist, what was once a tense interrogation suddenly evolved into a battle to the death that may as well result in Chance’s.


Wait a minute…why am I the only one fighting here?

He momentarily looked towards his group, Sidney in particular, who was holding the gun. Staring almost with incredulity at their lack of action, Chance found himself momentarily distracted. This distraction was enough to keep his attention away from the terrorist, who had immediately risen, and leapt towards him in a swift tackle.

Chance had little time to dodge, and in a panic, struggled to move aside and out of the way. However, the woman caught his side, hitting him sharply in an impact that sent him sprawling once again towards the ground.

His shoulder blade met the ground in a blunt impact that would no doubt leave a mark. Though his body was aching from the repeated abuse and the strain of having to react quickly, he still struggled to rise from the ground. Growling in irritation, he shouted out his reply to Sidney’s nervous inquiry.

“Some help would be nice around now! Just stop her! Shoot her if you have to!”

Snapping himself out of his delerium, Sidney chastised himself for not taking any form of action sooner.

You dumbass! Your inactivity could get us all killed, because you're the one with the gun, and Chance is the only one doing anything about it! You've got to act, and you've got to act now!

Rising to his feet with a little difficulty, Sidney grimaced, and pointed in the general direction of the scuffle to what he thought was the terrorist, and pulled the trigger twice, sending two bullets flying towards the scrapping pair. Taking a step back as he fired, he kept on the look of extreme uncomfortability as his hand shook, regretting that he'd had to fire his gun at all. He hadn't been able to shoot Cody Jenson, and only now was he firing his gun at a target that was partially obscured by his ally. It was a bad situation, and Sidney knew that if he missed, he'd never forgive himself.

Hearing the gunshots, Kaige attempted to maneuver herself so that Chance would be in front of her, in the case that the gunshots found their mark.

As he scuffled with the female terrorist, Chance found himself breathing heavily. Before all of this, in no way whatsoever could Chance had ever foreseen battling to the death with an actual terrorist. Not someone his own age, a student like himself, but rather, a trained killer. Right now, he knew that once all was said and done, someone would fall here at the end of this battle.

And Chance was determined to make sure that it wasn’t him, or anyone else he knew. He just had to keep fighting, he just had to stay alive.

But… he wondered inwardly, frustrated. Why am I the only one doing something about this? Why won’t anyone else do anything? When will Sidney start shooting already?

His answer came when he suddenly felt himself being swung towards another direction, and that was when he heard the gunshots. In his mind, there was a deafening roar of thunder, sending a jolt of stunned shock through his mind. Somehow, he registered the sound of a metallic singing in his ear that faded in an instant. But then again, perhaps his mind was playing tricks on him. He felt paralysed, as though the sonic blast of the thunder had rendered his body numb.

Eyes widening, he let go of Kaige and stepped back, turning around slowly with an almost tentative look on his face. As he faced Sidney, who still had the pistol on his hand and had no doubt fired the two shots, it took Chance a few moments to register the fact that his hand had somehow found its way against the back of his neck.

Blood was dripping down the side of his neck along the back of his shoulder blade, sending branches of red running against his tanned skin to bloom into red as it soaked into the white cotton of his shirt. He lifted his hand, which was now streaked with blood. He felt pain now…one of the bullets must have scratched the side of his neck.

Nothing serious. Nothing fatal.

Surprised by this discovery, the fact that he had survived being shot by one of his own allies, he shook his head…once to clear his mind, twice at the incredulity at all. He opened his mouth, as though about to smile, or make a wise-cracking comment at the situation that had just unfolded…

Chance suddenly found himself being interrupted by a mechanical beeping noise.

It sounded like one of those annoying watch alarms, ones that tended to go off in class when people forgot about them. On reflex, Chance automatically looked around, in surprised. When he was unable to determine the direction from which the beeping was coming from, he suddenly realized…that the source of the beeping was from him.

His collar, more specifically. Chance’s hand, now stained with red, snapped back to meet his collar. His fingers traced the cold metal against his neck, and felt the slight vibration that came with each beep.

And then he suddenly remembered why the collars were there in the first place.

Chance’s mind was suddenly swept with a wave of giddiness, no doubt unable to believe what he had just realized. As the collar continued its relentless beeping, his face lifted towards the group.

His sea-green eyes were wide and brilliant, contrasting against his rapidly paling face. He continued to clutch the collar, his grip tightening, until his fingers shook slightly.

In his mind ran the thoughts that were barely coherent, a jumbled mess of words that flooded him with panic. The collar….something happened. Sid shot….hit me…hit the collar. Explode, it’s going to explode…my neck. It’s going to explode. And I’m.... Shot me. I’m going to…

“…You’re joking right?” He muttered with a somewhat incredulous laugh, his voice barely heard over the beeping. His face contorted, a smile of incredulity mixed with an expression of utter fear and dread. “This is…just a joke, right?”

The rhythmic beating began to rise in tempo as blood continued to run down the clear-cut contours of his neck.

As Sidney watched the shots hit not the terrorist, but his ally, he couldn't help but cry out a choked "NO!", but lucky for Chance, it appeared that one of the bullets missed him completely, while the other only skimmed his neck. It could have been worse, far worse.

That, of course, was when Sid heard the sound. The terrible sound, the one that every single person on the island, student or terrorist feared - the loud beeping of a collar. The blood drained from Sidney's face as he realized what was happening - and what had set off the collar in the first place. It had been his bullet. It had to have been. As Chance stepped back and looked at his friends with an almost sarcastic look of shock on his face, Sidney noticed Kaige take a step back, holding her hands up in the air, almost to say that it wasn't her fault. Mouth gaped open, Sidney locked eyes with Chance, and began to shake his head slowly.

No, no...God, no, not Chance. I couldn't have hit Chance...but I did, and his collar...oh, Jesus no...

Locking eyes with Chance, the horrific agony of what he had done filled through Sidney Crosby, and he tried to say something, anything at all. But he couldn't. The best that he could do was to mouth the words, I am SO sorry... as he shook his head in disbelief.

As far as Kaige went, the terrorist did hold her hands up to signify that she hadn't done anything. Kaige hadn't planned on doing anything with his collar, and it wasn't even that she had touched it. As the collar's beeping noise filled the area, and all movement seemed to stop, Kaige decided to take that moment to make an exit. Grabbing her pistol off the ground, she stepped over and grabbed her rifle from the ground behind her, where she'd thrown it. Looking back over her shoulder, she looked right at Toby Valerik, and shrugged, mouthing the word 'Sorry', and with only a little bit of sorrow in her eyes (for she hadn't intended upon meeting these kids to kill them), she dashed off into the woods behind the hospital, not wanting to be witness to the aftermath that the explosion of the boy's head would bring.

Still shaking his head, Sidney finally managed to whisper out something, his voice shaky with the grim realization of what would happen. He couldn't even avert his eyes, for his eyes were locked with Chance's, for what would likely be the boy's death stare.

"Fuck..."

For a moment, Chance was blind. He was paralysed. He was deaf, to all but the ominous, dreaded beeping that filled his ears and creating a deafening contrast with the silence that followed the gunshots that had been fired earlier. His mind was numb, as though frozen, unable to register anything else than the knowledge of what was to happen to him. He never even noticed the terrorist, now long since forgotten to him, as she fled the scene in fear of what was to come.

All his life, Chance had always lived with the feeling that nothing could happen to him. One would suppose it was that state of mind that was common in the youth of modern day. The news was always full of stories about people killed by car-crashes, teen shoot-outs, and cancer even. But Chance never thought any of that could ever happen to him.

Let alone being killed by a detonating collar. But the knowledge of what was going to happen to him made him realize how vulnerable he was. He was only human, only mortal, after all. The worst of things can happen even to him, no matter how hard he tried to deny it.

An agonizing numbness filled him as he found himself anticipating the disaster that was to occur. Unable to bear the strength of his weight any longer, his legs, shaking, gave way as his thin, trembling form dropped to its knees. Eyes wide, he looked towards each of the members of his group….Takara, Toby…and then Sidney. The expression on his face was blank and pale, though something about the way he stared straight ahead made him look as though he was pleading with them.


Help me.

The ominous beeping that filled his ears was deafening to him, and now it’s rhythm had gone faster in tempo, foreshadowing the explosion that was to follow, taking both the neck that donned it and Chance’s life along with it. All the while, the knowledge of what was to come flooded Chance’s mind. He struggled to resist it, to deny it. His simply refused to accept it as reality. It was just a dream. Just a bad dream…

No. It’s not a dream. This is reality. Soon, the explosion will go off, and it’ll be over. There’s nothing else to it.

It was as though Chance’s other self, the calm and composed youth who always smiled, and took everything in a stride, had taken shape and was talking to the scared, vulnerable Chance collapsed against the ground. As the real Chance absorbed these words, he realized that it only made sense. This was his reality, and he had to accept it.

Somehow, this realization seemed to calm him, for he closed his eyes slightly and bowed his head over, clutching something tightly against his chest. His kneeling form was crumpled up in a tight position, his face hidden from view. His ears were filled with the sound of his own breathing, and the sound of the beeping, now nearly reaching the tempo where it was only a mechanical buzz. But his mind fell back to a memory of a view years past.

---

A girl about his age, with brown-hair and smiling eyes, watched him curiously as he stood in front of the shrine. Following her instructions, he bowed before the coin box, and pulled at the rope in front of him. The sound of the bells suspended from the shrine filled his ears. Clapping his hands twice, he made his wish.

"Please help me see all there is to see in the world. Please let me travel everywhere in the world, see new sights, and experience new things, and meet new people before I die."

He could feel the girl's eyes on him as he spoke. Smiling to himself wryly, he concluded his prayer with a bit of humor, picking up a block of wood and a carving stone. "My offering...is hereby recorded as an IOU."

The girl laughed at this humourous flourish as Chance stepped away from the box, grinning cheerfully.

“So that’s your wish then?” she asked him, suddenly earnest now. “It sounds wonderful, being able to experience all that life has to offer. Even though….” She rubbed the back of her head, suddenly looking awkward.

“Even though?” Chance inquired, curiously.

“Well….it just seems sort of…impossible, is all,” she said, laughing sheepishly. “I don’t know…am I wrong to say it.”

At this, Chance blinked at her, then flashed another bright grin. “That’s the thing about experiencing all there is to life. It’s impossible, because there’s always something new, always something that has never been seen or experienced before. There’s always a new goal every day, and because there’s no end to the things you can see…well, there’s still hope.” He nodded his head, as though agreeing with himself. “Yeap! That’s my real wish.”

The girl looked at him with wide eyes, taking in all that he was saying. It was strange, but without even intending it, it was though Chance’s words had given her something to contemplate carefully.

After a few seconds of silence, she nodded her own agreement, then smiled at him kindly. “You’re right. But…I’m not sure if it’s the same with finding the right person for me. I mean, once I find the right guy, that’s the end of the journey for me, isn’t it?” She looked somewhat embarrassed as she said this.

Chance only smiled again and said jokingly, “I wouldn’t say that. There’s always a new guy everyday.”

They laughed together at this remark. Madelaine, recovering from her fit of giggles folded her hands behind her back and met Chance’s sea-green eyes with her own dark, smiling ones.

“Yeah, that is true.”

---

Chance found himself laughing softly the memory unfolded in his mind. Mirth was followed by a dull ache, a pain in his chest. That pain was from the feeling that his wish would never be granted. He would never see everything there was to see, never experience all that life had to offer. He would never live to see another day. But…

It doesn’t matter. If my wish won’t be granted, then I won’t wish for anything more. I don’t care what happens to me now. But the thing is…this isn’t really the end. There’s never truly and end to things, and because of that…

His next, and last words were a whisper, drowned by the sound of the beeping, now frantic and urgent. “There’s still hope…”

The beeping suddenly stopped, and the silence that followed seemed like an eternity, as though time itself had paused to revel in this moment before the explosion followed.

A sudden burst of thunder filled Chance’s ears as he felt as though something blunt had slammed into him, jolting him out of his thoughts and sending him plunging into darkness. And that was all.

Chance form, bowed over on the ground, was now splattered with the blood that had burst forth following the explosion. His form shuddered slightly before he dropped completely, striking the ground once before rolling limply onto his side. Like a lifeless doll, he lay in a slightly curled position. His neck was now ruined, and he was stained with blood that ran in thick streams and branches down his form, forming pools of red that soaked into the ground.

His sea-green eyes, once so brilliant and full of life, were now grey and cloudy, like a stormy sky. He stared straight ahead as he lay on his side, his expression cold and lifeless. Underneath his curled arm was the journal that had once belonged to Madelaine Shirohara, which he had held onto since the time of her death.

A cold, frozen silence had filled the area were Chance now lay, fallen, another reminder of the fate that was to befall the many players who were lucky enough to survive this far.

B30 - Chance Burton - DEAD

Toby watched with morbid fascination as Chance lunged for the gun, and yet, immediately knew how this would end. No one could be stupid enough to let a gun of that power out of their grasp. It just didn't work that way. But he didn't say anything, didn't do anything. He seemed...absorbed. He watched with, yes, an entirely morbid curiousity as the combat unfolded around him. Unlike Sid, who had a firearm, he was all but useless.

He barely knew how to fight. He had a drill. He couldn't attack this girl with a drill to defend Chance. Shit, he couldn't move. It was like Tobs was paralyzed by some unseen force; not fear, but not excitement either. It was something else.

And then, Sid fired. He was brought out of his reverie, and found himself looking at the girl and Chance. For a quick second, he thought he saw blood coming from the girl. In the next second, he was sure he saw blood. And in the next second, he heard a beeping. It took several seconds for him to figure out it was Chance, and by then, it had already accelerated.

The grin that had crept onto his face (Tobs had assumed the girl had been hit, leaving Chance perfectly fine) vanished as soon as Chance turned and looked at the two of them. He blinked. No. No fucking way. Chance? There's no way. It was supposed to be that girl, that terror-student-whatever-the-fuck-she-really-is!

He took a step toward him, arm outreached, even though he knew there was nothing he could do. Nothing in the whole fucking world short of Divine Intervention could save the boy now, and Toby knew it. And yet, he took a step---

The explosion forced him to shoot his hands up to his face, the normal reaction to some kind of blast. His eyes came up over his arms, and he was able to catch one final glance into Chance's eyes. Then, his own eyes found Chance's neck. The second he heard the dull, wet thunk of the boy's body hitting the ground, he placed his hands on his knees and retched. Chance's neck had not been pretty.

Standing, wiping his mouth, he tore his eyes from Chance's body, catching one final shocker of the moment. The girl, looking at him directly. And mouthing something. 'Sorry.' There was something in her eyes, something he couldn't read, and then she was gone.

Why me? The fuck did I do to get singled out? And, wait a second, sorry?! She says sorry after getting Chance killed? Toby's mind went into a spiral. He viewed the girl as entirely at fault. What kid could be expected to make a shot that precise? Yes, of course, he believed Sid was slightly at fault. But the girl had been the one to force the situation. He didn't even consider Chance's own actions as having gotten him killed, no, he focused on the girl.

He had taken several minutes to realize that he was holding his drill like a pistol, hand clenched unbelievably tight around the handle. It was on. He must've taken it out sometime between the gunshots and the...explosion. However, he now felt no strength when before he had had plenty. The drill hit the dirt, and he followed, landing on his open palms.

He said nothing, did nothing. It was entirely possible that he had fallen not because of sadness, but because he was shocked. Like the kind of shock one gets when one has the unfortunate luck of standing too close to an explosion. His eyes glanced between three places. The dirt between his palms, the drill beside his right hand, and Chance. The remains of Chance.

[Okay, that sucked. Badly. Very sorry, my mind's dead and I've been busy. >.<]

Sidney couldn't believe it. For all of the dumb, stupid luck that he could possibly have, he had killed Chance Burton. The guy who had carried him out of the danger zone, the guy who had been the leader of their little group. The one who never seemed to be afraid, who'd always taken everything in stride. He was dead. And it was all the fault of one Sidney Crosby.

Shaking a little bit, Sidney couldn't help but feel an immense load of guilt. If he'd have done something more than randomly shoot at the terrorist, if he'd actually attempted to aim the pistol instead of firing randomly, then perhaps Chance'd still be alive.

It's all your fault, and there's no getting around that. All the responsibility that you've had to deal with in your life, and you've lost sight of the one thing that truly mattered - protecting your allies. What kind of a person does that?

Suddenly feeling as though the pistol in his hand were red-hot, Sidney dropped it, and stumbled away from the gun, as though it were the spawn of Satan himself. Looking at Toby and Takara, his allies, he stammered out what was somewhat of an apology.

"Jesus...I'm...oh my God...Toby...Takara, I didn't mean to...dear God..."

Of course, that was all that Sidney could get out, because of the fact that he was still in a state of shock about the whole thing. It really all just came down to the fact that while Sidney Crosby was cut out for most games, especially hockey - this was one game that he was NOT well suited for, not even at all. Stammering a little bit more, Sidney gaped at his allies, and then realized, for a simmering moment, that he might not be welcome amongst them anymore. Sidney'd fucked up, moreso than anyone would want to fuck up, and with his instincts screaming at him, Sidney Crosby turned around and bolted, not wanting to look back at the battered corpse that was Chance Burton.

((Continued in: Onslaught Redux))