((Clarice Halwood continued from Topic Title.))
Clarice braced her hand against one of the tubs in the water treatment room and stared into the murky, decades-old water that half-filled it. Water also soaked her feet, chilling them to the bone. That water smelt like bodies.
The announcements had come and gone before Clarice got here.
Kizi was dead.
Clarice stared at the water. She was so thirsty. She had no supplies. Nor were there supplies on the body she'd seen on the way to this tub—long since dead, bits of him probably floating around her feet.
Kizi was dead, shot by
by some guy. Ale
Alessio. She remembered, at least this time. She couldn't remember who'd killed Bernie or Irene, and sometimes she forgot that Nancy was dead and expected to see her out of the corner of her eye. But right now she remembered.
Why couldn't she remember the rest? Was it the thirst? Was her arm infecting the rest of her? When had she last checked it?
Kizi was dead.
Jennifer had died to keep Kizi and the others safe. Clarice had burned her safety zone to ashes. Kizi never killed anyone. Never hurt anyone. Kizi wouldn't. Couldn't. She was dead.
Clarice dunked her face in the tub of murky water, and she drank. She couldn't describe how it tasted. The closest she had was mud, mushrooms, what shit probably tasted like, and a distinctive rust taste. She wanted to vomit, but she didn't.
She kept her face in that tub for a little too long. Until her lungs started to burn. Almost reluctantly, she pulled her face out. Then she gripped the tub with her good hand. She heaved, and the tub and what little water remained in it tipped over, splashing out and mingling with the corpse-water that was probably giving Clarice trench foot as she stood there.
Clarice heard an angry shriek mixed in with the clang of the tub hitting the ground. Took her a moment to realise it was her.
She'd done nothing. She'd do nothing. She couldn't find Scout, couldn't find Ty, couldn't find Kimiko, and she couldn't remember if anyone else was left. All she'd managed to do was live instead of dying, but what was the point of that if her life wasn't dismantling this stupid game?
There wasn't anything she could do in this game.
Maybe she'd even killed Kizi by burning down what could have been a proper safehouse. A proper safe zone. She might have tried to stay out of the game, but Kizi was still dead. So was Bernie, and Irene, and Harold, and Conrad, and so many others. They were still dead.
There was no saving anyone.
By the end of it, they'd all be dead. All but one. And those motherfuckers would give the winner a pat on the shoulder and send them back, a piece of propaganda for whatever their goddamn pointless purpose was.
She'd pestered the terrorists. Maybe even forced a few of them on the island to clean up her mess. But it didn't do anything, not in the long run. What she needed
she needed them in front of her. Needed that Danya asshole in front of her. And she might not stand a chance, even then, but even if it was one in a million
There was only one way that'd ever happen, though.
That was the sticking point. The only way to even stand a chance at stopping even one member of that fucking group would be to play their game.
And even now, even with the name Alessio Rigano' echoing around in her head, she didn't want to do that.
Clarice sat on the overturned tub, pulling her feet up and crossing her legs so they were out of the corpse-water. She pressed her hand to her mouth, partially in case her stomach gave up and let loose the water she'd drunk. Partially out of thought.
Paths of Glory
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((Nate Turner continued from This is Where I'll Stand When the Flood Comes))
He was still alive. Alive, and somehow, awake.
It was as if his talk with Enzo had sent him one way, down into the depths of bleak nihilism, and his chat with Matt had pulled him back the other. It was kind of funny, when you considered how both of the talks had gone, but Nate couldn't deny it. It wasn't that he had real hope, he'd never have any of that again, but he had something he hadn't had in a while.
Purpose.
It was undirected, unclear, and pretty much every other word that wouldn't normally describe purpose, but why bother trying to consider what was normal anymore? There was just something, a spark maybe, that Matt had put there, and then fuelled when his name had shown up on the announcements. Three times.
Maybe he just wanted to yell in Matt's face to stop it already.
No matter how you cut it, no matter who had done what since then, these people were his friends from school, and Matt was one of them. If he was just doing this because he didn't want to be a loser, and if he thought he'd have any kind of satisfaction when he was done, then it was up to Nate to bring him back to reality. He wasn't sure where that resolve had come from, but who else was going to do it?
Besides, it sure beat the alternative of sticking around waiting for someone to kill him. And even if Matt did decide he was actually going to kill him this time, then at least he wouldn't have sat around doing nothing until then. Thinking, maybe pretending, that he might actually have a shot at changing Matt's mind was more comforting than suicide, it turned out.
He was tired, even after a night's rest and his first meal in two days, but he pressed on into the depths of the asylum. Images of his encounter with Alvaro flashed across his mind, and they scared him, but he kept going. They'd said that Matt had won a prize (disgusting) in the asylum, so maybe he was still around. Still, Nate couldn't risk stumbling into a danger zone, not right now, so it was best to keep a wide berth from that area and hope he'd find him somewhere else.
He wondered what Sandy's corpse would look like. Ben hadn't died here, he didn't think (it was hard to remember all those announcements by now), but more people probably had. He was pretty sure that was death creeping up his nose.
He turned his way into the water therapy room, and quickly enough caught sight of its current occupant, a thankfully familiar face. He knew Clarice from drama, even though their roles took place on separate sides of the stage.
"Hello? Clarice? Are you ok?"
It was a dumb question, she definitely didn't look ok, but the fact that he could actually start a conversation again felt like something of a relief. Maybe having a goal was actually working.
He was still alive. Alive, and somehow, awake.
It was as if his talk with Enzo had sent him one way, down into the depths of bleak nihilism, and his chat with Matt had pulled him back the other. It was kind of funny, when you considered how both of the talks had gone, but Nate couldn't deny it. It wasn't that he had real hope, he'd never have any of that again, but he had something he hadn't had in a while.
Purpose.
It was undirected, unclear, and pretty much every other word that wouldn't normally describe purpose, but why bother trying to consider what was normal anymore? There was just something, a spark maybe, that Matt had put there, and then fuelled when his name had shown up on the announcements. Three times.
Maybe he just wanted to yell in Matt's face to stop it already.
No matter how you cut it, no matter who had done what since then, these people were his friends from school, and Matt was one of them. If he was just doing this because he didn't want to be a loser, and if he thought he'd have any kind of satisfaction when he was done, then it was up to Nate to bring him back to reality. He wasn't sure where that resolve had come from, but who else was going to do it?
Besides, it sure beat the alternative of sticking around waiting for someone to kill him. And even if Matt did decide he was actually going to kill him this time, then at least he wouldn't have sat around doing nothing until then. Thinking, maybe pretending, that he might actually have a shot at changing Matt's mind was more comforting than suicide, it turned out.
He was tired, even after a night's rest and his first meal in two days, but he pressed on into the depths of the asylum. Images of his encounter with Alvaro flashed across his mind, and they scared him, but he kept going. They'd said that Matt had won a prize (disgusting) in the asylum, so maybe he was still around. Still, Nate couldn't risk stumbling into a danger zone, not right now, so it was best to keep a wide berth from that area and hope he'd find him somewhere else.
He wondered what Sandy's corpse would look like. Ben hadn't died here, he didn't think (it was hard to remember all those announcements by now), but more people probably had. He was pretty sure that was death creeping up his nose.
He turned his way into the water therapy room, and quickly enough caught sight of its current occupant, a thankfully familiar face. He knew Clarice from drama, even though their roles took place on separate sides of the stage.
"Hello? Clarice? Are you ok?"
It was a dumb question, she definitely didn't look ok, but the fact that he could actually start a conversation again felt like something of a relief. Maybe having a goal was actually working.
"Smile. The world's not ending just yet."
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Clarice looked up as she heard the splashing of feet. It was, thankfully, someone friendly. She knew Nate from theatre. She didn't feel like she'd heard his name over the announcements this last
eight days? Nine days? Nate had been pretty chill back at school
did that still mean anything? Nancy hadn't been a crackpot back then, either.
Clarice uncovered her mouth. "Hey, N—" She stopped as she felt something rise in her throat again, shutting her mouth tightly for a moment before continuing. "Hi. I'm just fucking peachy, I guess."
She stared Nate down for a second before shrugging and gesturing at the room, trying to ignore the smell.
"I guess if you're chatting you're not here to shoot me or anything. Sit on a tub or you'll get trench foot. Uhhh, how are you holding up?"
Clarice wondered if food would make how her stomach was seething better or worse. She ended up deciding, as with so many other things, fuck it.' She fiddled with her bag, retrieving one of the ration bars. Anything to get the taste of the tub water out of her mouth.
"Better stay further back, though. I may puke on you."
Clarice uncovered her mouth. "Hey, N—" She stopped as she felt something rise in her throat again, shutting her mouth tightly for a moment before continuing. "Hi. I'm just fucking peachy, I guess."
She stared Nate down for a second before shrugging and gesturing at the room, trying to ignore the smell.
"I guess if you're chatting you're not here to shoot me or anything. Sit on a tub or you'll get trench foot. Uhhh, how are you holding up?"
Clarice wondered if food would make how her stomach was seething better or worse. She ended up deciding, as with so many other things, fuck it.' She fiddled with her bag, retrieving one of the ration bars. Anything to get the taste of the tub water out of her mouth.
"Better stay further back, though. I may puke on you."
Nate flinched at Clarice's response, her demeanour becoming more apparent by the moment. She looked and sounded pretty awful.
He looked around for a tub, but wound up edging onto the one Clarice was sat on. He kept as much distance as he could, perched on the very corner, but it was still a close position to be in. Even though it hadn't been that long ago since Hazel had cupped his hands, it was a weird feeling to once again be right next to someone who wasn't talking about killing him. He definitely preferred being here.
Never the less, Clarice's complexion was cause for concern.
"Are you ill? You don't look so good." He leaned in a bit closer, trying to get a better view in the dim underground lighting, but it was perfectly obvious what the answer to his question was. He thought for a moment on what he could do to help, then remembered that Clarice had spoken first.
"Oh, sorry. You asked me Well, um, I'm fine."
Wow, had he really just said that?
"I mean, all things considered. Not fine fine, but, well " he furrowed his brow as he held his tongue and twiddled his fingers, trying to find the words. "It's nice to see you again, anyway."
He offered her a bashful, unnatural smile, but it was still more sincere than it would've been earlier. It didn't last long though, not when faced with Clarice's state.
"Sorry, I probably sound like an idiot, huh."
He looked around for a tub, but wound up edging onto the one Clarice was sat on. He kept as much distance as he could, perched on the very corner, but it was still a close position to be in. Even though it hadn't been that long ago since Hazel had cupped his hands, it was a weird feeling to once again be right next to someone who wasn't talking about killing him. He definitely preferred being here.
Never the less, Clarice's complexion was cause for concern.
"Are you ill? You don't look so good." He leaned in a bit closer, trying to get a better view in the dim underground lighting, but it was perfectly obvious what the answer to his question was. He thought for a moment on what he could do to help, then remembered that Clarice had spoken first.
"Oh, sorry. You asked me Well, um, I'm fine."
Wow, had he really just said that?
"I mean, all things considered. Not fine fine, but, well " he furrowed his brow as he held his tongue and twiddled his fingers, trying to find the words. "It's nice to see you again, anyway."
He offered her a bashful, unnatural smile, but it was still more sincere than it would've been earlier. It didn't last long though, not when faced with Clarice's state.
"Sorry, I probably sound like an idiot, huh."
"Smile. The world's not ending just yet."
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Nate chose to sit closer than what Clarice was comfortable with, given the situation, but it was too much effort to protest. The wariness faded pretty fast. Nate was calm, unarmed and tiny. Even if he wanted to attack her, and despite her weakening state, she was pretty sure nothing could come of it.
Clarice wiped traces of tub water off her face. "Probably. But I ain't finding a doctor here."
Though, come to think of it, when was the last time she'd changed her bandages? It must have been a while, since she couldn't really do it without help. So... Kizi. The last time had been with Kizi.
"Even if you did sound like an idiot, that's pretty low on the shit scale in this dump. And I guess 'not fine-fine' is as good as anyone could expect to be." Clarice looked at Nate, then looked back at the cracks in the aging wall. "I guess ditto on seeing you. Haven't seen many people in the last few days, and the people I have seen... well, I guess no-one's attacked for a while." Clarice didn't offer a proper smile, although maybe she frowned a little less.
Though, truthfully, she'd almost--ALMOST--welcome someone rushing her right now, just so she could do something besides sit and stir. It would be better than everyone leaving so quickly.
She reached up and touched her bad shoulder experimentally, immediately flinching at the contact, before lowering her hand again.
"If you're not squeamish... would y'mind helping me change my bandages?"
Clarice wiped traces of tub water off her face. "Probably. But I ain't finding a doctor here."
Though, come to think of it, when was the last time she'd changed her bandages? It must have been a while, since she couldn't really do it without help. So... Kizi. The last time had been with Kizi.
"Even if you did sound like an idiot, that's pretty low on the shit scale in this dump. And I guess 'not fine-fine' is as good as anyone could expect to be." Clarice looked at Nate, then looked back at the cracks in the aging wall. "I guess ditto on seeing you. Haven't seen many people in the last few days, and the people I have seen... well, I guess no-one's attacked for a while." Clarice didn't offer a proper smile, although maybe she frowned a little less.
Though, truthfully, she'd almost--ALMOST--welcome someone rushing her right now, just so she could do something besides sit and stir. It would be better than everyone leaving so quickly.
She reached up and touched her bad shoulder experimentally, immediately flinching at the contact, before lowering her hand again.
"If you're not squeamish... would y'mind helping me change my bandages?"
Nate pressed his hands between his knees as he listened to Clarice, considering his response. It was reassuring, he supposed, that there could be someone else who hadn't been attacked in a few days. That feeling didn't really hold much water though, not when he reflected back on the announcements that were still running. Still, it was better for Clarice than the alternative.
He winced in sympathy as she prodded her wound, eyeing it up carefully. When Clarice asked for his help, he hesitated, but only for a moment.
He'd never taken any first aid classes or anything, but he did what he could. Carefully, and at her direction, he worked to help change her dressing and tried not to get too nauseous at the sight of the mess underneath, even as corpses bloated in the water around them.
"What happened? If I can ask, I mean."
He winced in sympathy as she prodded her wound, eyeing it up carefully. When Clarice asked for his help, he hesitated, but only for a moment.
He'd never taken any first aid classes or anything, but he did what he could. Carefully, and at her direction, he worked to help change her dressing and tried not to get too nauseous at the sight of the mess underneath, even as corpses bloated in the water around them.
"What happened? If I can ask, I mean."
"Smile. The world's not ending just yet."
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"Nancy got me with her axe on Day 1. I tried grabbing her arm to stop her leaving—didn't mean to scare her or anything, just wanted her to hear me out—and this happened." Clarice adjusted her feet, since one of them was getting pins and needles. "That wasn't
wasn't even the shittiest thing that happened that day, but damn if it didn't tell me how stupid gathering everyone at one point of the island would be."
Could have been better, with a safe place and rules to follow. Could have been better if it was done Kizi's way. But no. Clarice burned that down. Burned it down because of one bad day telling her that strangers and acquaintances couldn't be trusted.
Clarice glanced at the wound, which was now unwrapped, and instantly looked away. It wasn't looking great. She could see pus leaking from it and the wound was still red and itchy. Still, that pus was clear and the wound didn't smell corpsy. Even with her limited knowledge, that was something.
She eyed Nate for a moment, partially in an attempt to not look too closely at her arm.
"You don't look hurt. Got lucky, huh?"
Could have been better, with a safe place and rules to follow. Could have been better if it was done Kizi's way. But no. Clarice burned that down. Burned it down because of one bad day telling her that strangers and acquaintances couldn't be trusted.
Clarice glanced at the wound, which was now unwrapped, and instantly looked away. It wasn't looking great. She could see pus leaking from it and the wound was still red and itchy. Still, that pus was clear and the wound didn't smell corpsy. Even with her limited knowledge, that was something.
She eyed Nate for a moment, partially in an attempt to not look too closely at her arm.
"You don't look hurt. Got lucky, huh?"
"Something like that, I guess."
He let out an awkward chuckle, whilst continuing to work on Clarice's shoulder, apparently a bloody reminder of how his friend from drama had gone into the dramatic deep end. If she'd been doing that from day one, well, maybe he was lucky to have not met her.
He frowned, uncomfortable with that thought. Maybe he could have talked her out of it, if she'd seen a friend, or at least a familiar face. Maybe if someone had given her some reassurance, someone like him, more people would be around by now.
Because he had such a good track record with that by now.
"I did meet Alvaro, a few days ago. It was actually right in here. Me and Ben and Matt," he frowned again, decided not to talk about Matt right now "we were looking for stuff, then Alvaro showed up and pulled a gun on us."
He continued working on Clarice's shoulder, fumbling with bandages and being as gentle as he could. It was easier to tell the story if he didn't make eye contact, so he focused on what he was doing instead.
"Ben pulled me out of the way when I tried to talk to Alvaro, and I didn't get shot cause of that. But, well, I ran away, and now Ben and Alvaro are dead."
He offered Clarice a weary smile, because by now it was just the simple truth and nothing more. There were still signs of guilt lingering on his look, and there probably always would be, but at least he could keep a straight face this time.
"Now that you mention it though, I guess that's the only time someone's tried so far."
He stopped what he was doing, for just a moment. He hadn't thought about that until just now.
He let out an awkward chuckle, whilst continuing to work on Clarice's shoulder, apparently a bloody reminder of how his friend from drama had gone into the dramatic deep end. If she'd been doing that from day one, well, maybe he was lucky to have not met her.
He frowned, uncomfortable with that thought. Maybe he could have talked her out of it, if she'd seen a friend, or at least a familiar face. Maybe if someone had given her some reassurance, someone like him, more people would be around by now.
Because he had such a good track record with that by now.
"I did meet Alvaro, a few days ago. It was actually right in here. Me and Ben and Matt," he frowned again, decided not to talk about Matt right now "we were looking for stuff, then Alvaro showed up and pulled a gun on us."
He continued working on Clarice's shoulder, fumbling with bandages and being as gentle as he could. It was easier to tell the story if he didn't make eye contact, so he focused on what he was doing instead.
"Ben pulled me out of the way when I tried to talk to Alvaro, and I didn't get shot cause of that. But, well, I ran away, and now Ben and Alvaro are dead."
He offered Clarice a weary smile, because by now it was just the simple truth and nothing more. There were still signs of guilt lingering on his look, and there probably always would be, but at least he could keep a straight face this time.
"Now that you mention it though, I guess that's the only time someone's tried so far."
He stopped what he was doing, for just a moment. He hadn't thought about that until just now.
"Smile. The world's not ending just yet."
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Clarice grimaced at Nate's talk about Ben and Alvaro. That was some rough shit. It reminded her of Jennifer and Nancy. Clarice's form of comfort came in a short, awkward pat on the shoulder.
"...That sucks. Honestly, though? I don't think running is much to be ashamed about." Clarice stared at the water and breathed in the corpse smell. "Between flight or fight, in this shitty game? I'd say running from this shit is a lot better than going for it. And if this guy had a gun, what were you going to do anyway?"
Clarice could have shot Nancy. She didn't. ...She didn't regret that, though.
"Yeah. It's weird, huh? So many bodies, so many names and I've seen almost none of it. I I dunno. I guess avoiding shit is lucky, but at the same time I'm going crazy just sitting around, hearing friends turn up on the announcements, and waiting for that end to catch up with me."
Maybe it never would. Maybe the itch digging in her shoulder would get her first. Was that better or worse?
Clarice could taste grittiness in her mouth, dirt from the tub, and she pulled together what saliva she could and spat a good portion of it into the water below. The taste didn't seem as bad as it had minutes ago, but the moment she thought about it the nausea started to rise again. So she kept rambling, because focusing on words was better than puking all over Nate.
"I mean we know how this all ends. And the only difference is what those fuckers see." She jerked her head at the camera in the corner of the room. "And who's the lucky' person who gets to live with what happened when its all done."
Clarice took a moment to examine the bandages as Nate finished wrapping them. She didn't know enough to know if it was a professional job or not—as professional as the island got, anyway—but it was enough. Miles better than what Clarice could have managed on her own. She examined the bandages, then eyed Nate.
"Are you hoping to be that lucky, Nate?" The tone wasn't accusatory. Just curious.
"...That sucks. Honestly, though? I don't think running is much to be ashamed about." Clarice stared at the water and breathed in the corpse smell. "Between flight or fight, in this shitty game? I'd say running from this shit is a lot better than going for it. And if this guy had a gun, what were you going to do anyway?"
Clarice could have shot Nancy. She didn't. ...She didn't regret that, though.
"Yeah. It's weird, huh? So many bodies, so many names and I've seen almost none of it. I I dunno. I guess avoiding shit is lucky, but at the same time I'm going crazy just sitting around, hearing friends turn up on the announcements, and waiting for that end to catch up with me."
Maybe it never would. Maybe the itch digging in her shoulder would get her first. Was that better or worse?
Clarice could taste grittiness in her mouth, dirt from the tub, and she pulled together what saliva she could and spat a good portion of it into the water below. The taste didn't seem as bad as it had minutes ago, but the moment she thought about it the nausea started to rise again. So she kept rambling, because focusing on words was better than puking all over Nate.
"I mean we know how this all ends. And the only difference is what those fuckers see." She jerked her head at the camera in the corner of the room. "And who's the lucky' person who gets to live with what happened when its all done."
Clarice took a moment to examine the bandages as Nate finished wrapping them. She didn't know enough to know if it was a professional job or not—as professional as the island got, anyway—but it was enough. Miles better than what Clarice could have managed on her own. She examined the bandages, then eyed Nate.
"Are you hoping to be that lucky, Nate?" The tone wasn't accusatory. Just curious.
Nate shook his head with more conviction than he had about anything in recent times.
"I don't want to be that person. Maybe it's weird, but I feel bad for them, whoever does make it to the end."
Yeah, they'd get to live, and that was enviable, but it was just as he told Matt: what was the point? After everything they'd have seen, must have done, would it be worth it? Could they just go back to normal? Nate couldn't imagine so.
"I get wanting to live, not wanting to be a loser, but I don't think anything can go back to normal anymore, you know? If you went home, you wouldn't be the same person, and I don't think people could just walk away from it either."
"I think I'd rather go to Heaven from here, instead of going to that hell."
He smiled again, still awkward and small. He wasn't quite sure where it was coming from.
"I'm not ok with having to die, but I've accepted it." He shuffled in his seat, smile wavering a little, but not entirely. "I was actually close to doing it myself."
"I don't want to be that person. Maybe it's weird, but I feel bad for them, whoever does make it to the end."
Yeah, they'd get to live, and that was enviable, but it was just as he told Matt: what was the point? After everything they'd have seen, must have done, would it be worth it? Could they just go back to normal? Nate couldn't imagine so.
"I get wanting to live, not wanting to be a loser, but I don't think anything can go back to normal anymore, you know? If you went home, you wouldn't be the same person, and I don't think people could just walk away from it either."
"I think I'd rather go to Heaven from here, instead of going to that hell."
He smiled again, still awkward and small. He wasn't quite sure where it was coming from.
"I'm not ok with having to die, but I've accepted it." He shuffled in his seat, smile wavering a little, but not entirely. "I was actually close to doing it myself."
"Smile. The world's not ending just yet."
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Clarice nodded slightly at Nate's words. Smart dude. She finished examining her bandages, lowering her arm and fighting the urge to scratch at the bandages.
"Thanks. Changing bandages is a bitch with only one hand."
Clarice kicked her feet out a little. Watching the water ripple as the tip of her shoe skimmed it.
"I haven't even considered it yet. I mean, I threw my shoe at the camera once, but I wasn't really thinking about what they'd do to me if I broke it. I've known death was there, and a very big chance in shit that I've done but I ain't thought about punchin' in my own ticket.
"If losing is the best way to do this then why didn't you?"
While she was at it, why hadn't she?
"Thanks. Changing bandages is a bitch with only one hand."
Clarice kicked her feet out a little. Watching the water ripple as the tip of her shoe skimmed it.
"I haven't even considered it yet. I mean, I threw my shoe at the camera once, but I wasn't really thinking about what they'd do to me if I broke it. I've known death was there, and a very big chance in shit that I've done but I ain't thought about punchin' in my own ticket.
"If losing is the best way to do this then why didn't you?"
While she was at it, why hadn't she?
He continued to move in his seat, hanging his head down low and looking at the filthy water beneath them. It was a good question, and he needed a moment to respond.
"When I was up at the bridge, I ran into Hazel and Jordan, and they stopped me. I'm glad they did, at least I think so, but at the time I was actually really mad at them."
He looked upwards again, leaning back onto the tub. He hoped that Hazel and Jordan were still ok.
"It took me days just to get up there, and then they got in the way, you know? So I ran away again later, but by then I was just kind of switched off. That was pretty awful, too "
"So, in a way I guess, I was worried that might be what being dead is like? I know I shouldn't, I want to think most of us made it to Heaven, but I don't know if I've been a good enough person for that. Good people might've done more whilst they were here."
He brought his legs up to his chest, resting his head on his knees. Some water from his shoes ran down the side of the tub.
"So, I guess I guess that's why I haven't done it yet. I want to do something good first."
He looked back at Clarice, face looking a just a little lighter than it had been in days.
"What about you? Is there anything you still want to do?"
"When I was up at the bridge, I ran into Hazel and Jordan, and they stopped me. I'm glad they did, at least I think so, but at the time I was actually really mad at them."
He looked upwards again, leaning back onto the tub. He hoped that Hazel and Jordan were still ok.
"It took me days just to get up there, and then they got in the way, you know? So I ran away again later, but by then I was just kind of switched off. That was pretty awful, too "
"So, in a way I guess, I was worried that might be what being dead is like? I know I shouldn't, I want to think most of us made it to Heaven, but I don't know if I've been a good enough person for that. Good people might've done more whilst they were here."
He brought his legs up to his chest, resting his head on his knees. Some water from his shoes ran down the side of the tub.
"So, I guess I guess that's why I haven't done it yet. I want to do something good first."
He looked back at Clarice, face looking a just a little lighter than it had been in days.
"What about you? Is there anything you still want to do?"
"Smile. The world's not ending just yet."
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ViolentMedic
- Posts: 1442
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 7:53 am
"If heaven is fussy enough that you can't get in? Then it probably ain't fucking worth it to begin with. But
yeah. I getcha."
Death was fuckin' scary. That's really all there was to it. There were worse things, but those things were known. Death was scary because well, what the fuck happens?
Nate asked if there was anything she wanted to do. She felt like there was. But it all seemed the start of plans with no details as to what she'd actually do once she completed step one.
Find Scout, and then ? Or find Ty, and then ? Find Kimiko, and then ? Did she try to make one of them win? Could she subject them to something that she'd personally deemed worse than death? Or did it not matter, if it was what they wanted? Scout and Kimiko, in particular, they'd killed. They had to want to be the lucky one. Did she get Scout back home? So that her dad and Debbie wouldn't lose both daughters in one swoop?
Or did she keep going? Try and be the last standing herself, so that when the terrorists came to take her back home that maybe she'd be able to do something, with them right in front of her. Worse than death, to be that lucky. And everyone else would have to die. But it was an option. A horrible, desperate option, but an option nonetheless.
She tried to vocalize something. One of her potential plans. But every time she thought about what to do, tried to detail it out, her mind went blank with everything but panic. Panic and nausea, that without coherent thoughts or plans was starting to seethe again, and this time it was rising.
"...I wanna throw up," Clarice choked out.
A moment later, she did so. Coughing up what mostly amounted to sludgy water. That probably wasn't the answer that Nate wanted to hear, but it was really all she had.
Death was fuckin' scary. That's really all there was to it. There were worse things, but those things were known. Death was scary because well, what the fuck happens?
Nate asked if there was anything she wanted to do. She felt like there was. But it all seemed the start of plans with no details as to what she'd actually do once she completed step one.
Find Scout, and then ? Or find Ty, and then ? Find Kimiko, and then ? Did she try to make one of them win? Could she subject them to something that she'd personally deemed worse than death? Or did it not matter, if it was what they wanted? Scout and Kimiko, in particular, they'd killed. They had to want to be the lucky one. Did she get Scout back home? So that her dad and Debbie wouldn't lose both daughters in one swoop?
Or did she keep going? Try and be the last standing herself, so that when the terrorists came to take her back home that maybe she'd be able to do something, with them right in front of her. Worse than death, to be that lucky. And everyone else would have to die. But it was an option. A horrible, desperate option, but an option nonetheless.
She tried to vocalize something. One of her potential plans. But every time she thought about what to do, tried to detail it out, her mind went blank with everything but panic. Panic and nausea, that without coherent thoughts or plans was starting to seethe again, and this time it was rising.
"...I wanna throw up," Clarice choked out.
A moment later, she did so. Coughing up what mostly amounted to sludgy water. That probably wasn't the answer that Nate wanted to hear, but it was really all she had.
Nate winced as Clarice puked her guts out, a wave of nausea rising up in his own throat. He didn't join her in puking, but it was an effort not to as the vomit mixed in with the dirty water below. How could a room full of rotting corpses smell even worse?
Composing himself, he reached over to pat Clarice on the back, being careful to avoid her wounded shoulder. "Better in than out, that's what my mom always said." He offered, along with a comforting smile, but the concern was still written over his face. If Clarice really was ill, well, what could he do?
"Do you want a drink?" he asked, acting on the only idea he had. He reached into Toby's bag, pulling out one of his few remaining water bottles and holding it out. It wasn't much, but it was better than doing nothing.
Composing himself, he reached over to pat Clarice on the back, being careful to avoid her wounded shoulder. "Better in than out, that's what my mom always said." He offered, along with a comforting smile, but the concern was still written over his face. If Clarice really was ill, well, what could he do?
"Do you want a drink?" he asked, acting on the only idea he had. He reached into Toby's bag, pulling out one of his few remaining water bottles and holding it out. It wasn't much, but it was better than doing nothing.
"Smile. The world's not ending just yet."
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ViolentMedic
- Posts: 1442
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 7:53 am
"I
yeah. I really do," Clarice croaked, as she watched the vomit dissolve into the water at their feet, quickly becoming indistinguishable.
Over the next few minutes she ended up draining the bottle. In contrast to the disgusting, sludgy water she'd been drinking earlier, the warm bottled water felt like the most wonderful, godly liquid that had ever touched her lips. Water that, off the island, would have needed to be stuck in the fridge for a bit before it was refreshing again. Perspective was funny like that.
She did feel a little better. Even if there was still that part of her screaming that she was a moron, that she had no plan, that she might have very well killed Kizi well, at least she was hydrated. She didn't want to puke anymore, and her mouth didn't taste like mushrooms and mud.
She'd take what little victories she could get at this stage.
"Thanks," she finally said again. She looked at the now empty bottle. "...Shit, didn't mean to drink the whole thing."
She put the empty bottle in her bag. Nate seemed to have enough water on him for now, and maybe there was somewhere she could fill the bottle up. Somewhere that at least wasn't the horrific mess this area was.
"I I've got some people to find, and this room ain't getting any better. I'm gonna get going. You're free to follow, but well, it's up to you. Can't promise I'm going anywhere good."
Over the next few minutes she ended up draining the bottle. In contrast to the disgusting, sludgy water she'd been drinking earlier, the warm bottled water felt like the most wonderful, godly liquid that had ever touched her lips. Water that, off the island, would have needed to be stuck in the fridge for a bit before it was refreshing again. Perspective was funny like that.
She did feel a little better. Even if there was still that part of her screaming that she was a moron, that she had no plan, that she might have very well killed Kizi well, at least she was hydrated. She didn't want to puke anymore, and her mouth didn't taste like mushrooms and mud.
She'd take what little victories she could get at this stage.
"Thanks," she finally said again. She looked at the now empty bottle. "...Shit, didn't mean to drink the whole thing."
She put the empty bottle in her bag. Nate seemed to have enough water on him for now, and maybe there was somewhere she could fill the bottle up. Somewhere that at least wasn't the horrific mess this area was.
"I I've got some people to find, and this room ain't getting any better. I'm gonna get going. You're free to follow, but well, it's up to you. Can't promise I'm going anywhere good."