Survival Of The Fittest

((Garry Villette continued from Stamina))
((OoC: I got permission to start this thread due to the other one still being stuck on Day 1))

The ground was getting more and more rugged as Garry marched on, and starting to get more and more elevated above sea level. Night had fallen just mere hours after he'd left Bounce and Victoria, the werewolf-fanatic having to resort to using his flashlight in order to see where he was walking and to make sure he didn't take a tumble over the cliff on his left hand side. "Wish I could see in the dark," he mumbled, raising his free left hand and patting his head. The beret was still on there, good.

He recalled the wildlife documentaries he watched with his family, and the way the animals' eyes glowed brightly when the cameramen were filming at night, then wondered if his eyes would do the same, especially with his gold contacts in. He could imagine how that would play out. 'And here, we see the werewolf stumbling around in the dark, trying his best to avoid the dangers on this island,' he thought in an imitation of David Attenborough's voice. 'He's tired, and in desperate need of a rest... yeah, no kidding.'

Exhaustion was gnawing away at him, his body's way of pleading with him to stop and take a rest for what remained of the night. He was starting to stumble as his legs found themselves increasingly unable to support his body weight, and just a short while later, they gave out on him. Garry sunk to his knees, able to stop himself from falling flat on his face by leaning back instead. His back and head softly hit the damp grass, his eyes staring straight up to the not-so-dark-anymore heavens.

Dawn was breaking, pastel shades of purple and pink lighting up the eastern horizon and reflecting off the water. It would have been a beautiful sight, but Garry didn't have the energy to turn his head to look in its direction. Besides, he was more than content to keep gazing at the fading stars above his head. His eyelids were starting to close on him, getting halfway shut before he forced them open again. It was a losing battle, however.

'Stop fighting it. Get some sleep, you've been up nearly 24 whole hours,' his mind ordered him. Garry had no choice but to oblige his brain's command, letting his eyes close and falling into unconsciousness almost immediately.

---

Garry's slumber was harshly interrupted by feedback after only about 40 minutes.

'Oh for fuck's sake,' Garry mentally growled, sitting up, looking around and blinking several times. Nobody was there, but someone was now talking, the voice distorted and coming from some loudspeakers hidden from view. It took him a couple of seconds for him to recognise the person speaking. 'Danya!'

It was the morning announcements, and Danya started to read the deaths out like some kind of mundane list, like their lives didn't matter in the slightest. Of course they didn't matter to him; why else would he organise and execute this sick plan in the first place?

Remi Pierce was first, followed by Dallas Reynolds. Garry didn't know either of them all that well, or at all for that matter. Warren Brown, the same as the other two, but Garry made a mental note to avoid Omar if he came across him on his travels. The next death shocked Garry, as it had turned out to be caused by one of his hockey teammates. 'Scratch teaming up with Alex,' he thought.

Next was Reika Ishida. "The fuck?!" he yelled out. As opposed to the others on the list, Garry had actually known Reika and her sister, but finding out she'd died and so early as well, it just seemed so unreal. Had it sparked Reiko's murderous rampage? 'Kris Hartmann, you bitch,' Garry thought as the announcement continued. Chris Davidson, he didn't know whatsoever.

Sally Connelly and Cyrille LaBlanche.

Garry's hands balled up into fists, closing his eyes as the mere mention of their names brought the scene back into his mind. The sai sticking out of Sally's throat, the blood pouring out of Cyrille's back. The way Danya described it seemed odd though. Cyrille had apparently helped Reiko take down Sally, and then Reiko turned on her afterwards? That didn't seem right, not according to what Cyrille had said just before she died. Had Reiko accidentally stabbed her then? 'God dammit, why wasn't I faster? I could have stopped it!' he cursed.

Petrushka, Everett, Alex a killer ('again?!'), Staffan had killed ('another one of the team's a killer?!'), the names just kept on coming and Garry worried that another name of a person he knew would come up. He managed to breathe a sigh of relief when Amber's name was read out, the final fatality of the previous day. Violetta, Saul and Miranda weren't among the dead (no, even though they'd had that bust up back at the tunnels, he wouldn't wish death on her), nor were the rest of the hockey team or some of his other friends like Hermione and Dougal. They were still alive.

Garry laid back again, staring blankly up at the early morning sky. 'They're still alive... but nineteen dead... nineteen people's lives ended like that, this shouldn't be happening,' Garry thought. There wasn't much time for any more thoughts, for his eyes had closed again and he'd fallen asleep, for much longer this time round.

---

Garry woke up again after about ten and a half hours of sleep, and boy did he feel better for it. His muscles didn't ache so much anymore and he was no longer fatigued. His face and arms did feel hot though, and pressing his fingers against his face he felt an intense burning sensation. He hissed out in pain, realising that he'd managed to become badly sunburnt as he slept in the hot sun. Of course, much worse things could have happened to him while he slept. Like receiving a bullet to the head while he was dead to the world. Fortunately it looked like his sleeping place had been completely undisturbed, since both the halberd and beret still laid on the dry grass next to him. Picking them up from the ground, Garry knew that he had to press on if he was to locate Violetta. He got to his feet and grabbed his bags, ignoring the fiery pain circulating in his sun-exposed skin.

Garry walked adjacent to the cliff edge for around half an hour, occasionally looking out over the deep turquoise sea. Freedom was literally a stone's throw away, but thanks to the collars and the patrol boats zipping past (Garry swore he saw someone on board wave at him, to whom Garry responded by flipping them the bird), freedom was all but unattainable. He felt like an animal. Not a wolf or werewolf, but something domesticated, like a sheep or a chicken on a farm. Caged in, unable to escape.

The sun hung precariously above the shimmering horizon as a chain fence came into view. Along with a dead body slumped against one of the poles holding the barrier up. "Fuck..." Garry whispered, slowing his pace as he neared the body and saw the condition it was in. Strips of rotting skin clung to the top of the fence, his mouth and chin were covered in dried blood, flies swarming wherever the red-brown mess was present. And the stench...

Garry fought off the urge to vomit and quickly got past Eric's body until he was a fair distance and no longer downwind from it. The contents of the announcement came back to mind: "Eric Lorenz was next to meet his demise, taking a tumble at the hands of Alex Rasputin and winding up getting impaled on a fence."

'You did this, didn't you, Alex?' Garry thought, looking back at Eric and dropping to his knees, grabbing hold of the fence to support himself as he suddenly came over all dizzy. Clutching the interlinking wires with his fingers, Garry felt even more like an animal than he had done before.

Caged in. No escape.

((Continued from Dirty))

Zipping up his jeans zipper, Luke stepped back from the bush. He breathed a sigh of relief, rubbing his hands on his pants. Jeez, he thought, I sure wish there was a sink here.

He bent to pick his bag up, slinging it over his shoulder. He did an about-face, finally stepping out from the treeline. He found himself at some cliffs, giving a lovely view of the island. I imagine the drop must be far, he mused, looking out whilst trudging onward.

Soon after leaving the swamp, he had calmed down. He could understand why that man had been so rude to him, but he was still offended. Although, there might have been trouble if he had stuck around. Sorry, dad. Getting punched in the face isn't a good way to start a friendship. Even I know that.

Cresting a slight incline, he saw someone. A young man clutching the chain link fence. Luke stopped in his tracks. Should he approach him? He looked like he was in a bad way. Suddenly, the boy dropped to his knees, surprising Luke. What if he had been hurt? If Luke walked off and the young man died, would that make him any less of a killer? He decided it wouldn't have, and he started off towards the person.

"Excuse me, sir? Are you okay?"

Garry immediately jerked his head round to face the voice, nearly losing his balance while doing so. 'Did he just call me... sir?' Garry thought, cocking an eyebrow. 'Weird, not been called that by someone from school before. What is this guy's name anyway? I feel like I should know... oh fuck it.'

"Um, yeah, I-I'm fine," Garry replied, releasing the fence and letting his hands drop to his sides, his knuckles resting on the floor. It was as far from the truth as he could get. Here he was, stuck on an island and told to kill his classmates. He was depressed, he wanted to go home, he wanted to find Violetta and Saul. No, Garry wasn't okay. "I'm Garry, by the way," he added on.

It was getting dark, and Garry continued to sit where he was, turning back to stare out at the darkening horizon. In just an hour or two it would be pitch black and Garry would have to resort stumbling around in the darkness with only a flashlight for guidance, which was getting dangerous since he was not only close to the cliff edge, but also approaching a pair of danger zones.

"Hey, have you seen Violetta Lindsberg anywhere, or know what she looks like?" Garry asked, turning back to face Luke. He didn't know if the other boy heard him, or if he even gave an answer or not.

"Look, I can't stay here and chat for too long, I really need to get going and look for her. It-it's very important." He stood up and gathered all his belongings. He looked towards Luke, seeing if he had any weapons on hand. "So... sorry, I don't know your name. If you're not doing anything else, could you help me? You don't have to come with me if you don't want to, but if you do see Violetta, please let her know that I'm looking for her."

Nodding, Luke listened to everything the boy had to say. He understood that he was just looking for someone. He smiled, trying to look as warm and friendly as he could.

"My name is Luke. Nice to meet you, Garry."

He paused for a moment. And then, before Garry could respond, he added, "Of course I can help you find her. It'll be easier with the two of us, won't it? I don't have any weapons," he frowned, "So I'm afraid I won't be of too much help."

He looked at the boy hopefully. This is the third person he met on the island, and by far the kindest. The last one was just downright rude, and the one before hit him with a door! This Garry guy seemed kind, and he was sure that he meant him no harm.

"So, Garry, what should we do now?"

"Great, it should be easier to find her with both of us," Garry remarked, quite surprised when Luke mentioned that he didn't have a weapon on him. 'Hmm, he must've lost it somewhere along the line,' he gathered, not worried too much about it. Luke could see that he had a massive weapon, which probably may have put him off from attacking. Then again, he seemed friendly enough so an attack on him wasn't going to happen.

"We need to get going though, we're wasting valuable time and it's getting pretty dark now," Garry uttered, looking up to the night sky and seeing the brightest stars appearing. He grabbed the bags, weapon and beret and pulled the flashlight out his bag, flipping the switch and starting to walk further westward along the coast.

Garry couldn't have walked more than fifteen yards when disaster struck. There was a slight dip in the ground, hidden from view by the darkness and some long tufts of grass. Garry's left foot hit the side of the dip and slipped down towards the centre. Garry gave a cry of pain as the muscles and tendons in his ankle were painfully pulled, the result of which caused him to lose his balance. He knew he was about to fall, so he threw the ji off to the other side so he wouldn't accidentally impale himself on it, the oriental weapon travelling a fair distance before coming to a rest on the grassy slope.

Garry landed on his left side, his arm and shoulder taking the full force of the impact. He was used to taking a tumble when on the ice, but he wasn't wearing any of his padding. Besides, being used to falling over didn't make it hurt any less. Plus the flashlight had been inadvertently thrown in the air and came back down with a whack on his head, his thick matted hair thankfully softening the blow when it did strike.

"Owww... ow, ow ow," Garry cried out, hissing in pain and glaring at the injured body part. He got into a sitting position, scooped up the still-illuminated flashlight and tried standing up again, the ankle deciding it was not going to cooperate with him however. Garry hobbled towards the weapon lying close by, collapsing down onto his knees when it became apparent that he wasn't going to be able to continue much further in that state.

"I'm fine, don't worry about me," he reassured Luke. "I just hurt my ankle, nothing serious, though I think I'll have to wait for a bit, wait for the pain to disappear." Garry exhaled noisily, lying down and staring up at the dark blue sky.
The next thing Garry knew, it was morning.

"Urggnn... whoa, what happened? Did I pass out during the night or something?" Garry asked himself while consciously blinking his eyes to try and get them back into focus. Looking around, he was surprised to see that he wasn't just talking to himself; Luke was still hanging around nearby after all this time. "Oh, hi, didn't expect you to hang around, thought you would have headed off after so long," he said, facing Luke.

And then the speakers came to life. 'Oh heck, here we go again,' Garry thought. Just hearing Danya's voice was causing his blood to boil, never mind the fact he was relishing all the deaths that the students had 'achieved'. The antics of a certain Japanese girl really grabbed Garry's attention.

'Reiko killed again? Holy shit, she killed Raina?' Garry thought, having known the latter while encountering the former earlier on. 'Damn... why is Reiko doing this? Has she got fucking mad or something?'

Things were then about to take a turn for the worse.

"Six and seven came in quick succession at the hands of Maxwell Lombardi, our new favourite Brit first strangling Augustus MacDougal to death-"

'Dougal?! He's... he's been killed?!' Garry thought, looking up with his jaw dropping. 'N-no, it can't be. Dougal can't be dead. Danya's lying, he has to be. Yeah, that's it. He lied about how Reiko had killed Cyrille, so why wouldn't he lie about that? It-it's probably a ploy to get the students to kill each other faster. Yeah, that has to be it. Dougal's safe and sound somewhere.'

Alas, things just got even worse from there.

"Violetta Lindsberg was the next sob story for the evening because in grief for her girlfriend, she blew her own collar."

"NO!"

Garry wasn't even aware that he'd just shouted out at the top of his voice. The one name he didn't want to hear had just been read out. 'No, Violetta... I... he's lying again, he's... no... fuck... I was too late...' As much as Garry wanted to think otherwise, deep down he knew that Danya wasn't lying. Not about Violetta or Dougal or Raina or Eva or any of the others. They were all trully dead.

He'd messed up. He'd really messed up. He'd promised Cyrille that he'd find Violetta, and he blew it. He blew it BIG time. "I fucked up. I-I should've been faster, I should've found her!" Garry cried, picking the beret up and burying his face into it. "I've let her down, I've let Cyrille down! I've let them all down!" He crouched down on the ground and started pounding his fist against the dirt, cursing out loudly with each strike.

After pounding his now-aching fist against the ground fifteen or so times, Garry just rested his head against the dirt and cried his eyes out. Tears for Violetta, Cyrille, Dougal and everyone else who'd fallen victim thus far.

((Marion Summers continued from Pearl and Destiny ))

Marion trudged up the path not bothering to hide the yawn. She'd been walking for quite a while, and though the crackers had taken the edge off her hunger, two days without sleep was catching up to her.

She sighed when the speakers crackled to life again. Pulitzer, she reminded herself and pulled out the notebook to record as much of it as she could. She yawned again, hearing the litany of names was becoming numbing. All this death, it was hard to wrap her mind around it.

She rounded the corner and came upon two boys from school. Hanging back, she watched and listened for a second. They seemed to be upset by one of the most recent announcements. If they're upset most likely they weren't planning on doing any killing. Her reasoning was probably faulty, but at the moment she was too tired to care.

"Hey," she said stepping into their line of vision. "You guys don't mind if I crash here right?" Without waiting for permission she picked a spot off the path and dropped her bag, then sat down next to it using it as a backrest.

Witnessing the accident, Luke had rushed to Garry. Having some medical experience, he went to examine the ankle, but Garry had already hobbled over to his weapon and assured him of the condition of his ankle. Nodding reservedly, Luke kept a careful eye on him, until Garry had fallen asleep. A couple hours later, the fatigue getting to him, he let himself drift into sleep.

---

Hours later, Luke bit his lip as Garry wept on the ground. He didn't know what to say. Obviously, one or more of the people in that announcement meant something to him. Standing awkwardly, he didn't exactly know what to do. He moved slowly towards Garry and knelt down beside him, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

And then, he heard a girl speak.

He looked up, finding the source of the inquiry, but he saw she had already made herself quite at home. Her forwardness shocked Luke to a degree, but he supposed it was better than a door to the face. He cleared his throat.

"Uh... hi. I'm Luke."

He kept his hand on Garry's shoulder, meaning to keep it there until the boy's sobs would subside.

((Goodnight and Go---------------->Clio Gabriella))

What must one do if they stop functioning like a normal person again?

Clio pondered this. She was a thinker, not a rational one, but she thought. Would this actually work, stopping herself from killing? If she did manage to stop herself, then she was basically a goner on this island full of the people who'd turned, like in a zombie flick. If she didn't, there would be nothing for her back home, since she'd be ostracised from the rest of society for being, plain and simple, a murderer. A murderer of children, to be precise, and that didn't even bode well for anyone in any situation.

It had to have been so long since she'd wanted to stop that it was becoming tiresome even thinking about it. Soon, she was at her final destinations: the cliffs. These things were the ledges that dove off into the real world, where people didn't have a care. Why only a mere few hours ago, she was considering throwing herself off these same cliffs just to get out of the game.

She had since reworked that theory.

As she got closer, she found herself blocked by a fence. Only waist high, nothing totally insurmountable like in many a media. Stretching her legs, Clio climbed her way over the chain link, and looked around.

It was the cliffs. Nothing more, nothing less.

Although there seemed to be a rather dead body lurking out of her range of sight, she couldn't see anything that would pose a remote threat to her.

Perhaps this was the time to get some sleep.

Looking around, she was mildly surprised to see people already here. No such luck in that department then. She supposed it was foolish of her to assume that they wouldn't go to a place clearly marked on the map.

Chances were they didn't know her, so she stepped forward to get a better look at the three.

Yes, there were three of them. One of them, a guy with a massive beard that she swore she had met before, was crying on the ground. She could truly empathise with him after so much time was spent doing the same thing. It was getting too much for any of them to handle really. The other person, a girl, she didn't recognise. That wasn't much of a surprise, since she wasn't much of a social butterfly, no matter how much she told her parents and others.

The other kid...she knew she had seen before!

It was the guy at the hut, a few days ago!

So...he survived then?

"Umm....hello?" Clio spoke out, hoping to grab their attention. If they knew who she was...she was fucked.

Garry was completely oblivious to Marion's arrival and decision to settle down. In fact he was ignorant to everything that was going on around him, lost in his thoughts as his mind tried to come to terms with what he'd just heard. Violetta was dead. Dougal had died. Two of his friends and team mates had become murderers during the previous day. His world had come crashing down all around him.

He felt Luke's hand gently rest on his shoulder but he didn't turn to face him. He got up into a kneeling position and just stared at the beret grasped tightly in his hand instead. He'd made a promise to Cyrille that he would find Violetta and deliver the garment to her. He hadn't been able to do it. 'I'm sorry, Cyrille. I... I couldn't do it. I've failed the pair of you.'

The odds of finding Violetta had been stacked against him from the start, but that didn't factor into his thinking. All he thought about was that it was his fault and his fault alone that he couldn't locate her. 'It's all my fault,' Garry thought, the words echoing and increasing in volume. 'All my fault. All my fault! ALL MY FAULT!'

"IT'S ALL MY FAULT!" he suddenly howled out, slamming his knuckles into the hard ground. It was a foolish move and he whimpered in pain, bringing his hands up and cupping them and the beret over his face. Blood from his knuckles started to trickle down his right hand as he continued to kneel on the spot, his shoulders jerking up and down with each sob.

'Everything's gone, it's all over now, what do I do?' he thought.

Not once did it cross his mind that Saul's name wasn't read out, and thus he was still very much alive. And with his head in his hands, he didn't notice a black and purple-haired girl had just that second came across them, not that he would've recognised her as the double-murderer (triple really, but he didn't know that) Clio Gabriella anyway.

Marion settled down and the boys completely ignored her. She made a mental note of their conversation to sum up later. Then rolled over closed her eyes and was almost immediately asleep. She vaguely noticed Clio's arrival, and again filed it away to report on later. She should really have asked the boys if they had any more paper, at this rate she was going to run out.


zzzzzzzzzzzzz

Luke remained knelt beside his new companion, keeping quiet through his outburst. He didn't think he could understand this boy's pain. Luke never had very many friends, and none of them ran deep enough to warrant the ache the young man beside him felt. He merely gave his shoulder a small pat.

He sighed as Garry's sobs continued, and inspected the young man's knuckle. No more than a shallow scrape. Nothing to go nuts about. He only hoped he could get a chance to clean it up, in case the dirt caused an infection. He must still have banda-

A vaguely familiar voice spoke.

Luke's head darted up. Who said that? He had heard the voice before, and as his eyes came to the woman before him, his nose ached in memory of the pain.

It was the girl from the hut!

"Y-you!" he stammered, caught off-guard.

Of course, he knew nothing of her killings, or even her name, for that matter. All he knew was the fact that wooden doors hurt.

Okay, so the other girl on the scene was actually asleep. Funny that, but what she needed to do now was to focus her attention on the other two. One of them was...crying, a lot. Tounging the inside of her left cheek, she frowned. If someone was crying, and they looked like he did, it must be bad.

And the kid - he recognised her. There was always the off chance that he only knew her from the time she knocked the door into his face a few days ago, but...she had to be sure.

She started by keeping her gun in her bag instead of waving it around.

"Look, I'm-I'm not going to hurt any of you. I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I've been alone for a really long time. I just wanna stop here for a while, and wait until...I dunno what I wanna wait for, but I just wanna stop, okay? I'm not playing, I just need some sleep. Please?"

Raising her bluff to unmeasurable heights was the first thing on the to-do list, just below "try to stay sane" and "don't die until you can figure yourself out". She shifted her feet a little bit closer, and saw the boy's hands, cupping a Beret. Blood. Nothing new, nothing interesting, just your ordinary run-of-the-mil*smack*yeah, he was bleeding. And...this was an odd position. Sure she'd been with people like this before, but...on this island, she'd only met one person who she hadn't killed or wanted to kill. And now, she was gone as well. So...if she wasn't in any position to actually be a harm or be in harm, what should she do?

You'd think she'd know.

But she instead commented.

"Uh...is he okay? What happened?"

Garry's sobbing was starting to subside. He wiped his eyes with his left hand and checked his right, noticing small trickles of red-brown making their way down the back of the hand. 'God damn, did I just do that?' Garry thought in awe, staring at the small wound that graced the joints of his index and middle fingers. He wasn't normally a violent person, so his sudden outburst shocked, and to a lesser extent, scared him as well.

'Oh God, what if I'd clocked Luke in the face instead?!' Garry thought, silently thankful for subconsciously choosing the immobile 'target' to take his frustration out on. If he had managed to punch the other boy, he wouldn't have been able to forgive himself. He'd have just played right into Danya's hands and do exactly what the fat bastard wanted them all to do.

Luke suddenly cried out and a new voice spoke after him.

"Huh?" Garry exclaimed, looking round to the source of the noise and finally acknowledging the girl standing there. The first thing he noticed about her were the purple streaks in her otherwise black hair, the second being the slight difference in colour between her eyes (although he put that down to a trick of the light, since he couldn't see them all too clearly).

She said she wasn't playing and only wanted to sleep, and that was fine with Garry. He was probably going to be leaving the area soon anyway. He just didn't know where he'd go next though; what was he supposed to do now? His mission had come to a premature end and there was nothing else he could do. Just thinking about it made his mind swim, and he was only vaguely aware that the purple-haired girl was inquiring him about the self-inflicted wound.

"Um, yeah, I... I'm fine," Garry replied, brushing his good hand through his thick hair. It was a lie; it may have been a minor wound on his hand, but deep down inside, Garry was not fine. "I slammed my fist into the ground. Stupid thing to do, I know."

He immediately turned to the boy next to him. "Luke, who is that?" he asked in a whispered voice. The way he'd shouted out earlier, he'd obviously seen or encountered her before. "You know her or something?"

Marion shifted, she just couldn't get comfortable. She'd managed to doze for a little while, but it turned out she wasn't a deep a sleeper as she thought she was. Sighing, she sat up and looked around. The group was still there and it seemed still mourning the loss of friends. Wow, I must have managed a ten minute nap, she thought sarcastically. She stood up and dusted herself off, grabbing her duffle bag. She pulled out her notepad and began scribbling notes.

The group seemed to be fully involved with each other and now seemed as good a time as any to make her escape. She felt very lonely at the moment. She knew a lot of people from her work on the paper, but she wasn't searching for anyone, there wasn't one name that she'd been dreading hearing on the announcements. She envied them their grief that they had someone to mourn someone to lose.

She didn't bother to say good-bye to them; they had barely acknowledged her presence to begin with. Not that she'd been particularly talkative herself. Shouldering her duffle bag she slipped off without another word.

((Marion Summers continued in The Worst Bath Ever))

Leaning back to Garry, he whispered back, "Not really. She hit me with a door, but she apologized right after. I think she's fine."

And Luke really believed that. She just looked hungry, tired, and lonely. Thinking about it, Luke has been at least two of those things throughout his entire time on the island. He gave Clio a shaky smile, standing up carefully. "My name's Luke," he began, having regained his composure.

He walked a few steps towards her and raised his hand, offering to shake. His fingers twitched nervously. He's never really interacted with many girls, besides his mother and lab partners. Hopefully, he thought, they're as easy to get along with as guys.

"I'd say it's fine to stay for a little bit. Heck, you can stay for as long as you like. We promise we aren't playing."