Survival Of The Fittest

OH NO. YOU DIDN'T.

FUCKFUCKFUCK.

Arjen tried putting his bodyweight against the ground, but the rock was stronger. Arjen screamed and then splashed into the water.

Volker went down, but he wasn’t out. In fact, the fucker had managed to roll through and get back to his feet and finally scraped together enough brain matter to take up a defensive posture, something Colin wasn’t going to be able to safely break so long as Volker held the chainsaw.

It was only when Volker turned around that an opening showed, but that was then that he pushed his victim off the cliff.

Fuck

Fuck fuck fuck

Colin charged forward well before Volker had begun to turn back toward him, aiming to check the bitch with his shoulder. However, he didn’t stop to see if the hit had connected, instead moving straight to the edge of the cliff.

He looked down just in time to hear the last of the boy’s screams before he hit the water. A fall that no one should survive.

Colin was too slow.

Shaking, fists tightening, Colin turned back towards Volker, feeling an immense pressure, almost pain rushing behind his eyes.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you now, assrot.” He spoke flatly, without a hint of bravado in his voice. Colin then immediately reached for the arm holding the weapon as he aimed a kick directly at Volker’s knee.

“Took the words right outta my mouth, bitch!” Marcus hooted, as he brought the saw above his head, swinging down at Colin. Colin aimed for his leg with a kick but missed as Marco closed the distance, Colin avoiding his head getting split by virtue of grabbing onto the engine block and handles.

Now the two were locked in a power struggle, each trying to wrench the grip of the saw away from one another so they could put it to each other. Marco scowled as Colin wouldn’t just let go of his damn blade. He pulled himself closer to it, so Colin couldn’t get the leverage to yank it away. “You just seen me kill one motherfucker, what difference does two make!”

Marco clenched his jaw as he reeled back and shot his forehead towards Colin’s face.

Volker managed to shift past Colin’s kick, nearly knocking him off-balance. Luckily, Volker wasted some time talking shit, which allowed Colin to gather himself for the next strike.

The murderous fuck reeled back for an apparent headbutt, which would have been a stupid enough move on its own, but Colin already had a grip on the guy.

Colin quickly shifted to the side and carried the force of Volker’s own strike forward in an attempt to throw him to the ground

Marco felt the world slip out from under him. He hit the deck hard. The breath left his lungs, the saw left his hands.

He gasped.

The smart move would have been to grab the chainsaw once it left Volker’s hand, but Colin wasn’t making smart moves right now. His actions were driven by the single-minded goal of causing harm to this fucking bastard until he stopped moving.

Almost as soon as Volker hit the ground, Colin drove a stomp downward at the shithead’s arm, followed shortly by Colin going down to his knees in an attempt to reach out and get a solid grip on said arm.

As Marco tried to regain his breath, he felt Colin stomp his foot down right on his shoulder and collar bone, knocking the wind out of him yet again as he curled up in retaliation.

Chainsaw was out of his grasp now, and only some unholy intervention could save him now. All Colin had to do was reel his foot back and stomp on his neck, and he’d be finished. It’s what Marco would’ve done if he were in Colin’s position. Fortunately for Marco, that wasn’t what Colin was going to do.

Colin brought himself down to his knees and got on Marco’s level. This bought him time to scramble back as Colin lunged for his arm. He drove his leg back and kicked at Colin’s face.

The irony of this bootlicker white knight fucker tasting his Doc Marten would not be lost on Marcus.

Colin didn’t think Volker would be getting up anytime soon. Colin was wrong.

He barely had a moment to react as the killer’s foot connected with his face, knocking him flat on his ass.

Colin needed to stop underestimating Volker’s speed. Non stop assault. Beat him and break him until he stopped moving.

Letting out a frustrated hiss, Colin reached out to grab fuckwit’s leg before he could fully retract it, attempting to drag him close and drive an elbow into his face once again.

He felt himself get dragged by Colin before he could bring his foot back to kick him again. Colin was on top of him now and sent Marco’s face into the dirt with another elbow to the side of his head.

When he regained his bearing from the strike, Marco lurched up and wrapped his arm around the back of Colin’s neck, pulling him closer as he thrusted his hips upward, throwing Colin off of him to the side.

He pulled himself on top of Colin to return the favor, sending his fist down onto Colin’s face as many times as he could.

Volker was hurting, or at least Colin hoped so, but the fucker just kept getting back into it with some bullshit.

The fucker managed to catch Colin off guard and get him on his back, before trying to throw some jabs at his face.

First one? Fucking missed.

Second one? Different story.

The punch connected with Colin’s mouth and, though it didn’t carry much force, it caused him to bite his tongue.

The third strike connected too, though Colin had tried to turn his face away. Struck him right in the cheek.

Fuck this.

He reached up to catch Volker’s arm on the fourth strike, with the intent to twist hard. He’d follow that up with another elbow to the face with enough force to hopefully knock out some teeth or dislocate the arm he held or maybe even break the skin. A boy could dream. Then he’d knee the fucker in the gut, get him back on his ass.

Marco curled up as he was thrown to the side, his arms retracting to his gut immediately. He retched and puked up a slurry of spit and bile from his empty stomach, the taste of iron replaced with the purest of bitterness that made his skin shiver and sent cold shocks through his body as he cringed from the awful flavor of his own stomach acid. He crawled away from the clear yellow goop coating the grass as Colin was right behind him. He pulled himself up to a kneel only for Colin to drag him back to the ground again, refusing to let go.

Marco pulled himself up despite Colin's efforts. He slammed his head into Colin's nose, sending him stumbling backwards off balance. Marco saw the cliff's edge behind Colin, and took his chances, bumrushing him forwards, hoping to send him off with his beloved damsel in distress. He got about four paces in before Colin brought his elbows down into Marco's back, sending him gasping for air again, only to interrupt him with a knee to the face, before reap throwing him to the side, his glasses bouncing off of his head when he hit the ground. Marco peeled himself off the ground only to get a fist for his troubles, dazing him.

He tried to roll over to get onto his feet again, but felt Colin's hand grasp onto his hair, pulling him backwards off balance until he could wrap his arm around him in a headlock, dragging him towards the cliff. Marco began to do everything in his power to get him to let go, but it wasn't any use, he tried elbowing him in the ribs and biting his arm, but nothing worked as the grip threatened to get tighter, until Colin could get close enough to toss him off. In a last ditch effort to free himself, Marcus reached his arms down between Colin's legs and squeezed. Colin emitted what sounded like a scream at first, before cutting off into a gasp as his group loosened on Marco. As he let go, Marco pivoted, and sent an elbow towards Colin's chin, sending him stumbling back once more.

Marco saw the opening and took his opportunity to turn the fight around, sending a backhand into Colin's jaw, before following up with a hook in the same spot, sending him dazed and stumbling to a knee. Marco felt his lips peel back into a wicked smile as he rushed forward, and kicked the kneeled Colin in the face, sending him rolling down the trail leading up to the cliff face. Marco ran forwards again, repaying the favor from earlier with his own kick to the stomach, sending Colin rolling to the side as Marco stumbled and keeled over, himself also gasping for air.

Marco spat at the ground as he tried to regain his breath, plugging one side of his nose with his thumb and blowing, sending a torrent of blood out his nostril. He coughed and sputtered some more, grabbing the phlegm and blood cocktail from his face and peeling it away, shaking his hand as it stuck to his fingers before wiping it on his pants leg. He turned and stumbled towards Colin, winded, but forced himself to run and kick again, hoping to put him down long enough to grab his saw and cut him up.

Colin raised his arms and grabbed Marcus by the leg, before standing up from the kneel and pushing Marco onto his back off balance. He moved between Marco's legs and held them up to his waist so he couldn't go any where, before kneeling down and sending a barrage of fist after fist at Marco's face. The first hits were true, sending Marco's head reeling left and right before he could bring his arms up to cover his head and try to block the onslaught. Colin sent a hook past Marco's arms and hit him hard enough to cause him to roll over onto his face.

Marco tried to scramble away, but Colin grabbed him by the leg and drug him back. Marco used his free hand to kick Colin once in the groin, then pulled his other leg free, following through with another kick to the side of the head while he was stunned. He scrambled forwards, trying to run out of his grasp.

Colin caught up. He tackled Marco to the ground, sending him face first into the dirt.

Marco tried to force himself up by elbowing Colin in the sides again, but it didn't work. Colin wrapped his arms around Marco's ribs, pinning his arms to his sides by his elbows. Marco felt his legs picking himself off the ground. He thought he was free, he thought he was out of it. He wasn't.

He realized he wasn't pulling himself off the ground. Colin was standing up behind him, still holding onto him, as Marco's feet left the earth kicking around. A gasp followed by a scream occurred as his world spun, when Colin sent him shrieking into a supplex.

Volker was on the ground once again, but this wasn’t over. Not yet.

Colin had tried taking the asswipe to the edge, to toss him off with the victim whose life he had stolen, but now his fate wouldn’t be anything so poetic.

It was then that Colin noticed Volker starting to move again, and that wouldn’t do. This time Volker needed to stay down for good.

That thought alone in his mind, Colin stepped forward and delivered a swift and forceful stomp to Volker’s left knee, letting his heel dig in a bit. The cry the little bitch let out was all Colin needed to hear.

Wings? Clipped.

Almost immediately following this, he moved over Volker before dropping a knee right on the shitweasel’s crotch just as a little payback for the cheap shots he’d made.

“You like that motherfucker?!” Colin spat, pairing the remark with a solid hook directed at one of Volker’s eyes that seemed like it had already taken some shit.

“Ass!” Another punch, the mouth.

“Prick!” Another, the nose.

“Cunt!” Another, the jaw.

“You won’t hurt anyone…” Colin breathed heavily, straddling Volker’s prone form, “...ever again…” his hands, tense and shaking, found their way around Volker’s throat, “...I’ll make sure of that.”

He squeezed and didn’t let up.

Bloodied, beaten, and broken. That’s all Colin saw, and yet, he continued. First was the stomp to the knee, that gave Marco enough energy to awaken, but then came the drop to the groin, and all of it was taken away.

He didn’t get a chance to plead, beg, or scream as each hit came down on his head, again and again. Y’know, with the exception to the hit in his bad eye, which did hurt like a motherfucker, it didn’t really hurt. At this point it was like watching a fucked up movie for Marco.

The third hit sent his head to the right. The last thing he saw before he blacked out was the yellow plastic cover of his unused chainsaw.

Then he awoke again to a bright light, gasping for air that wasn’t coming to him as fingers tightened around his throat.

The way Volker sputtered and squirmed beneath him was… unsettling, disgusting, but he couldn’t stop now. This needed doing. Colin needed to do this.

He closed his eyes and let out a loud cry as he tightened his grip further, fingers digging into Volker’s skin.

He wouldn’t let go.

Marco gagged. His arms and legs flailed uselessly as Colin’s grip tightened. He grasped at Colin’s arms, trying to pull them away, to buckle his elbows, to peel his fingers off his neck. He tried everything and it wasn’t working.

He opened his bad eye and was surprised there was still a little bits of light in it, probably from his blood circulation being cut off, because those bits of light were in his other eye too. Any noise he tried to make came out as a quiet whisper, resembling a cricket blowing into a harmonica more than anything a human being would naturally make. He wondered what sounds Arjen was making underwater, that piece of shit.

The name Arjen sprung a little bit more fight into Marco, his arms reaching to claw and grasp at Colin’s face. It didn’t do much if anything until he tried putting a thumb in his eye. Even then, it only gave him a second or two to gasp for air, before Colin grabbed again, throttling his head back and forth into the ground as he tried to strangle the life out of Marco again.

He was dying.

Foam was forming at the edges of Marco’s lips as he tried to push Colin’s head back with his hand. Those little dots of light in his vision were getting bigger and brighter, until TV static started filling the corners of his vision. Everything got quiet and sounds began to echo. The only thing he heard clearly was his own heartbeat.

Colin was going to kill him. He was on the verge on consciousness now.

His left arm reached around the ground for a rock or a branch to bash along Colin’s head. He felt a plastic handle. His lips formed into a smile as his eyes locked into Colin’s.

He pulled, and felt a distant motor coming closer, like a passing vehicle.