Survival Of The Fittest

Jonathan followed Barry towards the stairs. This was turning out great! A large group of people, it was safe, they were safe! They could plan things out, they could escape. They could-

There was a scream. Oh no... No no no... What the hell happened! Nancy bolted down the stairs. She screamed, but she wasn't the scream. Oh no. What did she do, oh shit, not now, not this early.

Jonathan was practically tackled as Nancy ran out of the bell tower. What did she do? Jonathan looked up at her as she ran off. She was gone. But the scream, who's scream was that?  Jonathan forced himself to his feet. He got up and ran up the stairs.

Everything before this was going well. Too well. Everyone coming and going, Jon waking up trapped in a cell, Jon waking up in Survival of The Fittest... This was a hell of a day already, and now? Now it was going to get a lot worse before it gets better, or IF it gets better.

He reached the top of the stairs and saw Clarice. She was the scream. She...

"Oh my God! A-a-are you okay?!"

((Clarice post. Skipping to move Clarice out.))

"Things are fine," Clarice said to Barry, giving him a bright grin. "We're just—"

And then Nancy tried to leave. Just like Isabel and Maria had left, and leaving here wasn't like wandering off at school. Leaving meant a very real chance that they would die.

She'd panicked. She'd grabbed Nancy and told her to wait.

And then suddenly there was blood everywhere. There was an abrupt, sudden pain in Clarice's shoulder, followed by a horrible scrapey sensation. Clarice screamed. It was incomprehensible for the first couple of moments, then it devolved into screeched words.

"NANCY, WHAT THE FUCK—"

And Nancy was gone and someone else was there and they were asking if she was okay—

"What do you think?!" Clarice screamed, good hand going for her shoulder. Bloody. Very bloody. She'd had injuries before, nothing like this. "Fucking—Nancy! Where's Nancy?!"

Where'd she… the stairs. She went down the stairs. And amongst all the noise and the throbbing sensation in her shoulder that felt like it was sending little red lightning bolts through her body each time her heart beat, she found one, hazy thought.

She had to catch Nancy.

Why?

She'd figure that out when she caught her.

"Move!" she yelled, barreling her way past what seemed like a huge crowd of people, eyes wide and somewhat crazed. Her foot slipped a little, but she maintained balance, and the pain seemed to recede the tiniest bit—just the tiniest bit—as she focused on this new, abrupt goal. Nevermind the spots of red she was leaving behind.

Catch Nancy.

Then…

((Clarice Halwood continued in By the time you hear the next pop, the funk shall be within you.))

Conrad knew this was going to happen. Clarice screamed and thus the worst case scenario happened. Well, not really, she could be dead. But she was injured, screaming and running away from here, into the wild. Into other players even, perhaps.

Clarice needed Conrad. She could not storm out alone. He picked up Clarice's stuff and sprinted down the stairs.

"Wait!"

Going down was easier, even with the bags. Though Conrad knew he was faster when having no load, like when dunking. But resources were resources and both him and Clarice needed them.

He left the tower, running after Clarice, leaving Barry and Jonathan behind him.

He slightly regretted that, because he hoped that Barry had a clue of what to do, but in the end Barry and Jonathan were not important right now. They were not in danger, they were not injured and screaming.

Clarices was the person he had to give all his attention to. When he catches up, it will be safe. No tons of allies. No persons they could not trust.

Just him and Clarice.

((Conrad Harrod continued in By the time you hear the next pop, the funk shall be within you.))

Almost as though his words had lit a metaphorical fuse, everything became unraveled as soon as Barry had questioned the scene. Nancy had attacked Clarice out of nowhere, and left a bloody gash in her shoulder that Barry could see from the staircase. That sight alone made him feel more than a little nauseous. Nancy then took the opportunity to rush past him on the stairs, making him feel very thankful for the railing as he was pushed against it.

He cringed as he looked back at Clarice, or more specifically, her injury. He had seen some pretty rough injuries on the soccer field, but he'd never seen anyone's skin torn open with blood flowing so freely. It was even worse when Clarice came running past him as well, giving him a closer look at the wound. The sharp smell of blood that came with her as she passed caused him to crinkle his nose in shock and disgust. He could actually feel his stomach churning in a repulsed reaction to the unwelcome sensation.

With Conrad charging out the door as well, only Barry, Jonathan, and Jeremy were left in the vicinity. His escape plans were definitely not off to a very good start.

Barry just started at the door wordlessly, still trying to completely process the chaotic minute of his life that had just passed. He turned to look at Jonathan, who he assumed was just as shocked by recent events as he was. He cleared his throat nervously and said the only thing he really could after everything that had just occurred.

"So, uh... what should we do now?"

Jeremy had stayed silent as everything erupted to life around him.

To recap: Clarice made some mini-speech about friendship and trust and all that. Slightly cool sounding, a little idealistic but hey, if it actually stopped people from beating each other up he was more than cool with that. Unfortunately that hadn't worked out, because around the same moment that two people Jeremy honestly didn't really care about came to the top of the tower Nancy flipped the fuck out and hit Clarice with the axe she had. Jeremy had winced a little at that, because that was blood, and not just like the galleons the blood that poured out in basically every horror movie that was in the theatres but the blood of someone he considered a friend. Lots of it, too. It looked like she'd live from it but… god. At least she seemed okay.  For now, at least, considering that she ran off after Nancy, with her boyfriend in tow.

So that left Jeremy, who had just stood there at the top of the tower while everything had happened. Silent. Barely moving. It wasn't because he didn't have anything to say, it was just that he didn't get the time to say it. He wanted to say ‘oh shit, are you okay Clarice?' but she had rushed out of the tower before he had been able to formulate the words in his head.

And really, how much would that have helped? It was clear that she wasn't okay. There was blood, and there was a scream. Wasn't hard to put two and two together. And the words. The words that had almost come out of his mouth, they just showed how little Jeremy knew about whatever sort of pain Clarice was going through, because really, as much as he wanted to just understand how she felt, he couldn't relate. He had never broken a bone, and he had never been in a fight. The worst he had ever gotten were scratches and infections. Nothing in the vein of "getting an axe sent through your arm." Nothing even remotely close to what he had just seen happen. As much as he wanted it, he couldn't find that empathy. Only that grating "don't worry, at least you'll be okay" or "don't take it too hard on yourself, at least you tried." It wasn't a surprise when one of the other two asked the same question. Just spoke to how much he thought of them, really.

...He just hoped that he got to see her again. Even if it was only once. Even if the only thing he could say was goodbye.

At least then it could be better than… what this was. A better goodbye to that girl he talked to and occasionally argued with. Better closure to the friendship of Jeremy Frasier and Clarice Halwood.

He took a step. Maybe there was still a little time. He could catch up, or they could slow down, or maybe they could suddenly find each other again.

He shook his head. No, that wasn't likely to happen. Too… he didn't know. Something, he supposed. Not enough to stop him from walking. Because there were things to do. Stuff he couldn't do when he was stuck in a tower with two people he didn't care about. People he needed that closure with. Joshua. Emma. Junko. Serena. Al. You know what? Even fucking Caedyn. All people. All important.

Plus, he still had a list on him. He couldn't forget about that. Was it still there?

1. Have fun, above all else.
2. Find friends, give last goodbyes.
3. Pursue hopeless venture of survival, if first two options are no longer applicable.

Yep, still there. No longer in his short term memory, at this point. He walked across the room, passing by Barry and Jonathan without a word.

The worry about having to go down the stairs again had become a foreign idea, by this point.

((Jeremy Frasier, continued in Two Mules for Sister Sara))

.........




Jonathan had blacked out.


Those last 30 seconds his mind was elsewhere. He stood there, staring where Clarice used to be. Suddenly, it was empty again. Just him and Barry. Again they were alone, it was as if fate had planned for this. Jonathan walked over to the railing of the bell tower and looked down. He felt like he was watching his plans fall down the pit. Like that, in one moment everything went to shit. Jonathan wanted to reach out, he wanted to grab it. He wanted to fall with it.

No. Not yet. They could deal with this, they can work around this. Not everyone is going crazy yet, right? There had to be something they could do, something they could try. Maybe if they ringed the bell again, someone else would come? He had to think.

"I... Well, I don't know. There's, well I just don't know."

What about the bell though? Would people come? Were people coming now? Did just nobody care, and they were already planning on getting themselves off the island the only way they know how?

Jonathan had to do something, maybe he should ring the bell again, maybe it might work. But he had to see what Barry had to say first.

"I don't suppose we could try to ring this again?"

Barry removed himself from the railing he had been clinging to and rubbed the area on his back that the old iron had been pressed against after he was shoved into it. It was a little sore, but he figured that the pain would subside in a master of minutes. Besides, he had been hurt worse before. This was nothing.

Jonathan proposed the idea of ringing the bell again. Barry knew that there were advantages and disadvantages to this plan. True, the bell had drawn them to the tower in the first place, so they knew that they had a chance to gather people with it. Problem was, as they had just learned, some of those people might not be the most trustworthy folks around. It was a matter of weighing the good with the bad. They had a tool at their disposal that could be incredibly useful for their stated goals, but was it worth the risk? Barry rested his elbow on the rail and mulled it over for a minute or so. He tapped his foot sporadically, causing a rhythmic echo in the tower. When he came to his decision, he stood back up and looked to Jonathan with a smile.

"We should ring it. It's gonna be worth it."

Barry walked up the rest of the stairs and looked at the bell. Despite its age, it was still a rather impressive piece of architecture. It was the beacon that had brought him and Jonathan to the tower, and now it was once again going to play a similar role. It was more than just a bell, it was a symbol. This moment marked a turning point for himself and Jonathan, he could tell. They were taking charge of their own destiny now.

He reached up and gripped the rope tightly with both hands, looking straight up at the underside of the bell. He stood on his toes for a brief moment to give himself a little extra leverage, then yanked on the rope with all of the strength he could summon, dropping himself into a squatting position as he did so in order to put more weight into his pull.

The bell's mighty chime rang out once more, announcing their presence to the island. Barry, still with his hands on the rope, turned back to flash a huge grin at Jonathan.

He had a really good feeling about this.

He should have stayed.

((Alvaro Vacanti, continued from Hideaway))

There were people back there. People who he could have trusted. Danny. Audrey. They helped him. Even though he was injured and barely able to move and even though he had lied to them they had helped him. He didn't know why. They didn't know him. They didn't know why he had gotten his injuries, so why did they help him? Why were they friendly with him? He knew that there were people who saw the best in everyone and were friendly to everyone they came across but now that they were here why would they act the same way? If only one could survive, why did they pick him up when he fell down? It had to mean something. He didn't know what that something was but there had to be a reason for why they helped him. Why they were friendly to him. Why Audrey was being… what she was being for him. It had to mean something. He didn't know what, but he knew it did.

He didn't know whether it was a good or a bad thing, too. Did they mean it? Or were they using him? Were they actually his friends, or were they just the people who associated with him because his family owned a cafe?

He didn't know. He should have stayed. Maybe then he could have found out. Maybe then he could have ran if it turned out it was a bad thing. He didn't really know how good that was as a plan but he knew it didn't really matter. He left. He couldn't go back.

He stopped. Breathed. In, out. He knew that it would have been a better plan than what he had figured for himself right now. He had heard a bell. It had made him run. It caused him to run from the two people who seemingly trusted him and he knew that that was a mistake but it was what he had made and he knew that no matter how he felt he couldn't really do anything about it. He was still… something. Tingly. Wary. Scared. A remnant from when he had first heard the bell brought back up the second time it rang. That was what had caused him to come here. He didn't know. He just… wanted to see, or something. Who. Why. If it was a friend he'd come out but if it wasn't he'd try to get away as fast as he could. He nodded. It was okay. He knew that he should have stayed and he knew that doing that was better than what he could think up of right now but he knew that it was better than having nothing, at the very least. So he moved. Again. Up the final part of the stairs.

The shuffling of footsteps could be heard behind the door.

Well, here we go, attempt number two. Please let this work. No, this was going to work. Barry pulled the lever, the bell ringed, the world heard their voices once more. Once more will people flock to the bell tower, once more will their chances at escaping open. Once more...

Once more everything could go wrong. Barry was optimistic, and while Jonathan wished he could be, he had this growing feeling of doubt. In these few short hours, a lot had went wrong, and Jonathan was pretty sure it could get worse. But there was hope in that too, if they didn't do anything, it was definitely going to get worse. So a chance versus a positive of everything going down, well, they had to go with the chance. If they didn't do it, then it was positive they were going to die here, whilst by ringing the bell, it is now only a chance. A high chance, but still a chance none the less.

Jonathan's optimism returned in short waves, there was still that core of dread, but it didn't overlap the excitement of it all. The chance to be a hero, the chance to show them they could beat this. Jonathan needed some fresh air. He looked up at the second set of stairs above him, the ones leading to the bell and balcony up top. He wanted to see something.

"Barry, I think we got this, but could you give me a moment?" Jonathan pointed up the opening at the top of the bell tower. "I've never actually been to the top of one of these before..." It was rather dorky to say, and it caused Jonathan to blush, but it was true. He's never seen the top of a bell tower, but there was another reason he wanted up there.

He reached the top and looked down, it wasn't quite what he expected. It wasn't a ring with the rope dangling down the middle like the lower level, rather there was one balcony, a set of stairs, and a railed off opening to look out of. It faced away from the island, so the asylum was behind him, but it didn't matter, he saw what he was looking for. The ocean, freedom. Somewhere down there was home, and he'd see it again. Things would go wrong, there would be setbacks, but he would see home again.

He pulled out his tape recorder. He needed to document this.

"My name is Jonathan Gulley..." He didn't know what else to say, this was, well it was kind of hokey. "My.. no, errr.." Think of something, if Michael were here, he'd already have gotten a full monologue in with 'fuck' spoken in every other language except Portuguese. "I.. We." Jonathan knew what he would say. "I am Jonathan Gulley, and my classmates were thrown into the SOTF program. I will make it out..."

"No, we will make it out, all of us. We won't lose like the others."

Barry released his hands from their grip around the bell rope. He had held it so tightly that his palms were beginning to turn red and sting a bit from the friction. He shook them for the briefest moment in a vain attempt to quell the burning sensation. Now he understood why old shows about high school always portrayed the rope climb in gym class as something to be feared: because ropes hurt, especially when you suspend your weight from one.

When Jonathan announced his intention to head to the top, Barry gave him a thumbs-up and followed him up. Heading up there was actually a pretty great plan. Not only would they be able to see across the island, but they could probably flag down people who were walking by. Well, provided that those people could actually see or hear them. It was a pretty big island, and their voices weren't as powerful as the bell's chime. They would only carry so far.

Once they reached the top, Barry realized that the plan he had just come up with probably wouldn't be very plausible. They weren't even facing the rest of the island, so there was no way that they would be able to get anyone's attention from up there.

That didn't really bother him too much, though. The view from the top was amazing. The ocean stretched far beyond the horizon, the rays from the sun creating points of light that dances along the surface. The ocean was a reminder of how large the world really was, and how small of an area their island was in perspective. It represented many things: freedom, opportunity, and most importantly, life. When they escaped, they were going to cross that ocean and leave all of this behind them.

While Barry was admiring the view, he heard Jonathan start talking and turned around, assuming that he was speaking to him. His assumption was proven inaccurate when we saw Jonathan talking into his assigned tape recorder, making a not of their actions. Once there was a lull in the skater's speech, he took a step closer and leaned over, speaking loud enough to ensure that the tape recorder would catch his voice.

"He's right, you know."

With that, he turned right back around and continued to stare at the scenery, waiting for people to answer their call.

Noises.

People. In the room in front of him. Voices he couldn't recognise. One of them had a tinge of familiarity to it but he couldn't connect the voice to the face or the face to the name and he knew that it was easy and he knew that this would be a voice that he should have recognised but he couldn't figure it out and he hated it and why couldn't he just figure it out already he knew he just didn't and he wanted to know and he knew but he didn't and he just couldn't bear that. It was a voice he recognised, he knew that, but he didn't know whether that voice was one of a friend or an enemy, and the other person was an even bigger unknown to him. He couldn't even begin to guess whether that person was a friend or a foe on that front. He breathed, in and out. There were people in there. He didn't know who they were. There was a voice he recognised but not enough to know who that person was, and he didn't know whether they were friendly or not. That was what he knew.

He couldn't see them, either. There was a door in front of him. Wood. Solid. Closed.

If he wanted to find out who was inside, he would have to open it.

But if he opened it, and the people inside weren't friendly, then what would happen?

He breathed. In, out, again. He didn't want to know. The thought just scared him.

But if he didn't open it, how would he know? What if the two people inside were friendly? If it was another group, if they were people willing to accept him, then maybe he could make up, slightly, for running away. He would like that.

But it was a risk. It could be bad just as much as it could be good. He wanted to go in because it could be good but he wanted to stay out because it possibly couldn't be and he didn't know what to do. Did he open the door or walk away? Could he take the risk?

He looked behind him. Stairs. He couldn't go down them quickly, but neither could they.

He looked at the door. He couldn't think of anything better.

He opened it.

There was a room. Wooden floor. Four stone columns holding it up. The metal bell below. Two people.

Barry.

Friend. Teammate. Someone who he could talk to whenever he was feeling bad and someone who he knew didn't mind him doing that. Friend. Ally.

Jonathan.

Friend of Michael, who was a bully. Someone who stood by and allowed Michael to pick on him and mock him whenever they passed in the hallways. Not a friend. Enemy. Avoid if possible.

Barry was with Jonathan. Barry was with an enemy. Barry was happily talking with someone who bullied Alvaro and who made school hard for him and who was someone he didn't want to meet on this island at all.

A primitive sound just barely came out of his throat as he stepped back from the door.

((Skipping with permission))

Barry kept looking at the ocean. He had never been to the beach growing up, so he never really had a chance to appreciate how beautiful it was. Once he got home and made it big in the pro leagues, maybe he could buy a nice beachfront house and look at a scene just like this every morning. That would be nice.

Suddenly, he heard a faint noise come from behind. He turned back. Had someone shown up already?

It was Alvaro, one of his friends from the soccer team. Out of all the people that could have shown up, he was pretty high on Barry's list. He seemed to be just hanging out by the doorway. He had probably just shown up. After all, it hadn't been that long since Barry had rang the bell.

Barry smiled and waved to greet the new arrival. "Hey Alvaro! Good to see you!"

((Also skipping with permission))

Alvaro's breaths could no longer reach his lungs.

Barry had seen him.

Thoughts exploded in his head as he heard Barry's friendly greeting to him and he was unsure about what it meant. It was Barry. He was being friendly. He was acting how he always did and he knew that before this happened Alvaro was able to just take what he said for granted but now he was here he just couldn't and he knew that he wasn't being rational on this and he knew that he could trust him but he couldn't and he hated that and the pile of questions about Barry just grew larger and larger in his mind. Why was he with Jonathan? Jonathan was a bully, why would Barry willingly choose to be with one? He didn't know, and that was the worst part of it. There had to be a reason. He knew it. Barry was working with a bully and there was a reason for that and Alvaro wanted to believe that this was good because it was Barry and Barry was a friend but Jonathan was not a friend but apparently Barry and Jonathan were friends and he couldn't help but just think bad things about it.

Then he remembered something. Where he was. Not the bell tower, not the island, but the game. Survival of the Fittest.

Only one could survive.

The breaths finally reached his lungs.

No. He couldn't trust Barry. Only one could survive. If he trusted Barry then Barry could easily just stab him in the back and then Alvaro would die. No. That was why he was with Jonathan. Jonathan was a bad person, and now that they were here it was okay to be a bad person now. No. He couldn't stay here. He had to get away as quickly as possible.

The steps were small, only slightly moving across the platform on his side of the door. There was something he could say. Something that could explain what he was doing. Something that could get him out of here without the both of them going after him and something that would keep him safe and alive and away from the people like Min-Jae and Michael and Isaac and Jonathan and Barry and he just needed to say something. Anything.

Nothing came out.

Barry tilted his head in confusion. Why was Alvaro so freaked out? They knew each other, so he would have expected their meeting to happier than this. They weren't going to get anything done if Alvaro wasn't willing to talk, so Barry took it upon himself to make him feel more comfortable.

He walked over to his teammate, still putting on a friendly face. "Hey, it's really great that you're here. There's something that I've really gotta tell you." He explained as he came closer. "Seriously, you don't know how great it is that we found you."

He reached out to Alvaro, hoping for a handshake, or maybe a fist bump. Something to reestablish a link of trust and friendship between the two.

Barry got closer. Alvaro moved back more. He jolted. His foot had gone over the edge of the platform and he had almost fallen down the stairs. His breaths were getting harder. He moved. To the side. To the corner. To the place that barely anybody looked and where Alvaro could hide if he didn't want to be seen by particular people. It was comfortable, back then. A place he knew was bad to rely on but was one that made him feel good when he used it. But now it was different. Now he wasn't sure. Barry had seen him so he didn't know what he was doing by moving to the corner and he knew that he should just step onto the stairs and run and get away as quickly as possible but he couldn't and he was doing this instead and he didn't know why and he needed to do something but he didn't know what and-

Barry had moved. He was in the doorway now. Taller than him. Looking at him. The look in his eyes was different but he had seen this before.

He knew how this was going to go.

"No, I-"

He tried to step back again. The foot hit the wall behind him. His breaths were getting faster. He was cornered.

"Please, don't-"

He looked up at Barry. Looked down again. His hands were shaking.

The bruises and cuts on his face could be seen as the light of the sun flashed upon them.