Survival Of The Fittest

The other girls' hands went down somewhat at Leslie's assurance. Leslie had looked at her first though. Aracelis wasn't dumb, she'd shared enough looks from across a room. People could say a lot with their eyes and she followed his movements and saw his hand go into his pocket. Whatever he had to use was there, small enough to hide. Good information for her to have. Her knowledge of what to do ended at being able to identify what he was doing though.

Aracelis shrugged at the question as she moved further down and checked in the next locker along. It had an old metal lunchbox in it, she pulled it out with her free hand and flipped the lid open with her thumb. It housed a spider web and the old black crumbs that had belonged to something that once counted as food.

"Don't think there's much to find," She said, raising the lunch box up and tipping out the crumbs onto the floor before dropping it. It landed with a loud clang that echoed around the room.

"Nothing in the lockers anyway."

Her vision went over to Leslie before she turned to face the other girl. Her focus was on looking surer than she felt. She was taller than Aracelis herself but seemed skinnier, as Aracelis looked her over she caught sight of her blinding white Nikes and also the weird object in her still raised hands.

"What's with the fan?"

Leslie shook his head at the newcomer's question. "Just abandoned memories," he would've said if he found the words in the moment, but he was tongue-tied which was fine since Aracelis took over for him anyway. The girls seemed cold to each other, like strangers. It made him feel a little calmer about being the odd man out here, though there was still 2 more persons than he was normally comfortable with. Maybe more with the ghosts. If ghosts were real, which they weren't.

He watched Aracelis check out one of the lockers he previously opened and clenched his teeth in slight horror as she dumped a lunchbox out and just threw it unceremoniously onto the floor. His eyes flinched in time with the box as it screamed. Did she not listen, or was she trying to fuck with him?

He couldn't take his eyes off the lunchbox, internally panicking a bit and didn't notice the entrance door that was now open ajar.

That crack in the doorway became a little bit larger each second, a bit like the East African Rift Valley. Slowly, slowly, slowly, inch by precious inch, the door's pace was just a little bit faster than continental drift. The voices coming from inside the building made her err a lot on the side of caution. She knew one of the voices inside was Aracelis, and there was another girl inside who had a fan of some kind. All Constance had to do was open the door enough to peek inside without alerting the two inside, just to make sure that Leslie was there and wasn't just being quiet.

Eventually, the gap was just large enough for her to poke her head in and check out what was inside. She did just that, her eyes scanning everything she could-

It was him.

Leslie.

Her grip on the cattle prod turned her knuckles white, a deep-seated anger coursing its way up her veins and into her head. All caution was thrown to the wind.

"Leslie," she growled, "You fucking WEASEL!"

The door was slammed open, smashing the wall on the side. The cattle prod was held in front of her like a sword, her figure blocking the only entrance out.

"Où vas-tu courir maintenant?!"

Before Aracelis could receive any answer from Joan the door was thrown open slamming into the wall, sending light pouring into the room. Aracelis jumped and spun around but before she could properly take in what was happening the new arrival started yelling that someone was a weasel. It was hard to tell who the new girl actually was though as they were silhouetted against the light from the outside. Their face was partially obscured by shadow and the dust the sudden slamming of the door had kicked up. But they had something held in their hands. In response, Aracelis raised her bat in a defensive stance. She didn't know why. She was sure no one from the hot spring had followed her. If they had she didn't think they'd call her a weasel. But at the same time, someone flinging a door open and screaming about someone else being a weasel didn't seem friendly.

Then they started yelling something in French.

Aracelis replied more out of instinct than anything else. But if they wanted to yell in a different language she could oblige.

“¡No puedo entenderte, puta!”

Okay, so there was nothing in the lockers, but as for the fan ...

"Well, it was what they gave me. Food, water, and this thing. It's nothing, really. Would have been more useful if this happened in May, rather than now. But I'm just trying to -"

Well, that's what Joan wanted to say. What she actually said was "Well, it " before

"Leslie. You fucking WEASEL!" The door on the other side of the room just slammed open, then someone came in screaming and then saying something in French.

It was at that point where Aracelis raised her bat sand said something in Spanish.

"Uhh, what?" Hands go back up.

Uh oh.

Leslie flinched and broke out of his lunchbox trance at the sound of the door slamming open and striking the wall. He immediately stared like a deer in headlights at Constance wielding a cattle prod looking like she was gonna chase down and jab it at the next heifer she saw whether they were ready or not.

Fuck. She must've followed him in the snow. That girl was dedicated; it was kind of impressive, but that was besides the point when she was looking and sounding pretty upset for some weird reason!

Fuck. He didn't.... Fuck. He should've just left the bag here and run. Maybe he was already hexed and it was too late.

He flashed a glance at Aracelis calling Constance a bitch before turning back to the probable reverse assailant. "Uh-uh I don't know what you said, either."

Okay. Okay. Think. Gotta think. Gotta think gotta think gotta think. He was smart; not smart enough to consider the possibility of a crazy bitch tracking him down from the other side of the island, but he could figure out an escape route from this locked room mystery. He got B's and shit.

"Uh, I-" were the only other words he could produce. He had nothing.

Okay. Okay. New plan. Deny. Deny. Deny. He swallowed a ball of saliva and felt it travel all the way down his gullet. "Did I, uh, did I do something?"

"You know damn well what you did you piece of shit!" she roared, staring daggers at the thieving bastard that was currently trying to squirm his way out of this. Constance would make sure that he wasn't leaving here without some sort of comeuppance.

Constance heard Aracelis yell something at her in Spanish. While she didn't understand all that much of the language, she did know what 'puta' meant.
She swiveled her head towards her, keeping her snarling expression.

"This doesn't concern you!" She looked at the girl with the iron fan. "Either of you! This is strictly between me and the connard over there!"

She turned her attention back to Leslie, advancing towards him, ever so slowly placing one foot in front of the other. She thought that it made her look a little more menacing that way.

"Listen up, shithead! You are going to tell me where my stuff, that you stole from me, is, and then we never have to fucking see each other again, got it?"

She planted her feet firmly, holding her stance. The cattle prod was held in front of her, like a lance, ready to thrust it forward at Leslie if she needed to do so.

Leslie took a step back in time with Constance, and another one before his back collided with one of the lockers behind him. He turned his head towards the soft metal rumble but quickly turned back to the angry elephant in the room.

Mmm. Okay. He didn't know why he thought that'd work, but he was just gonna keep rolling with it. Even if he gave her her stuff back there was no guarantee she'd impale him with that prod anyway. He'd do the same; bargaining with a snake never worked out, though guess it did if you yourself were that snake.

Better yet, he had leverage here. It was his word against hers. She was the one causing a scene. She was the psycho with the fuck-off stick. It wasn't 1 against 1 right now; it was 1 against 1 against 1 against 1. Unless these other girls were cooperating with each other and good actors, but what was the likelihood of that? And if that were the case, he was boned right now for sure. So he didn't have a better choice, if you thought about it a whole lot. He had to keep playing dumb.

"Uhhhh," he uttered, mouth turning up a grimace, his grip tightening harder on the concealed stun gun in his jacket, "Do I- do I look like I have your stuff? I don't know what you're talking about! And- and if I did, I certainly would not have brought it with me here. That'd be loco!" He sealed the deal with nervous laughter.

Nailed it.

Everything escalated quickly. As it did Aracelis had images of Przemek's bloody face flashing in her memory. The steps that brought the girl close also allowed Aracelis to see who they were. Constance was someone she had been aware of. They lacked any sort of meaningful connection though. Then again, she lacked any meaningful connection with any of the occupants of the room. As she surged forward Leslie receded back until he hit the lockers. Constance snarled at her and Joan and Aracelis lowered the bat somewhat but she kept her focus on the pair. She didn't take a step back.

Constance had her weapon, a cattle prod, pointed at Leslie. She was yelling about Leslie robbing her, which Aracelis had some experience in. It hadn't worked out great that time.

Leslie's denials caught Aracelis' attention though. It was the wording. Her eyes narrowed slightly.

Her feet started to slide forward, leaving a trail in the dust.

Constance's jaw gaped when Leslie flat-out denied to having stolen what was hers. The absolute gall of this piece of shit! She would've considered it admirable had it not been happening to her. All it did was piss her off even more.

"You lying shitheel! I know that you have my stuff. You have the audacity to tase me and take my supplies and then lie about it to my face? Fuck you! Show me where you took my shit! That isn't a fucking question, either!"

Constance waved the cattle prod around wildly in front of her, getting close to but not hitting Leslie. Her face was boiling red in rage, and all of her energy was focused on getting Leslie to fess up to being a fucking thief.

She paid no attention to and did not notice Aracelis getting closer to her at all.

Leslie grimaced harder as he tried to back up along the wall of lockers. "I don't have your stuff!"

His hands flew out of his pockets on instinct of presenting them palms open, but along with them came the stun gun that slipped out and fell onto the floor in front of the locker next to him with a near-silent-but-still-earth-shattering thud.

The color drained from his face and leaked out onto the floor before he scrambled to pick the taser back up.

Hearing him deny his crimes that he so wantonly committed made something break inside Constance. This son of a bitch. What a lying, opportunistic douchebag! She would've walked away without giving him what-for had he just fessed up to his bullshit, but no. Here he was, denying everything like the coward he was in order to save face in front of the others. Now she couldn't just walk away. He had to be taught a goddamn lesson.

When Leslie fumbled the taser and scrambled to pick it up, she saw her golden opportunity. This motherfucker was about to get a taste of what high voltage did to human body.

Constance uprooted her feet from their steady position, charging forward at the other boy, thrusting the cattle prod towards him in a rush of pure fury. He was going to get what he goddamn deserved.

Leslie made it to the stun gun and snatched it from the floor as fast as he could, but it was a short-lived victory as the cattle rod jammed right into the side of his ribs and sent a jolt of thunder straight through to the heart. He yelped, dropping the stun gun out of his grip again as he collapsed to the floor, rolling against the locker to his side as his muscles locked up and twitched in agony.

Constance felt the sudden slam of the cattle prod into Leslie's side and ground her charge to a halt. As Constance watched Leslie writhe in agony on the ground, a beam of satisfaction shone on her face, a slight grin etching her face. Now that bastard knew just what she felt, how helpless she was. She saw him smash up against the lockers, rolling around as his muscles twitched and contracted. She noticed the taser resting by her foot and kicked it out of his reach. Now his only protection was gone.

"Tell me where my stuff is, fucker! Tell me where it is!" she roared, sheer rage making her almost growl. "I won't fucking hesitate to shock you until you fucking own up to your bullshit!"

She held the cattle prod up to his neck, getting close to but not touching it. However, if he kept playing ignorant and innocent, she wouldn't hesitate to bring it down again.

As Aracelis crept forward the dispute between the other two continued. Constance cursed and screamed while Leslie proclaimed his innocence. It would have been a great scene to watch if she hadn't been stuck in the same room as it. Realistically, Leslie probably had stolen her stuff, why else would she have burst in like an elephant crashing a funeral? She was running off adrenaline and anger and Aracelis could understand that.

But when she jabbed Leslie with the cattle prod and he collapsed to the floor, Aracelis made up her mind. The situation has escalated faster than she expected and she needed to do something.

After all, if what Constance was saying was true and he had successfully robbed her it meant Leslie'd had more success than Aracelis herself. It also meant Constance's stuff was up for splitting if she helped.

The decision seemed easy from there, after all, everyone would know what she had done earlier once the next day rolled around.

So from her position behind Constance she swung the bat, but this time she aimed for the head.