Survival Of The Fittest

I respect my mom. She's done so much for me over my life that I can't possibly begin to recall each and every single instance. She defended me when my father tried to take me away, and told me all about him. I've never met him, but I suspect that he's just as my mom described him as. My mom always told me that I was one of the most beautiful girls that she's ever known whenever I put myself down. She's put time and money into me. She's entered me into beauty pageants none of which I've ever come close to winning. Whenever we go to social gatherings, she buys me new clothes. She pampers me so much, and I never give her the credit that she so rightfully deserves. I'm one of the greatest things she's ever known, or at least that's what she says… she always… tells me positive things… well. That isn't exactly true. She hasn't really said anything positive to me for a while now and rightfully so. I haven't really done anything that was worthy of praise in a long, long time…

…

You know. I can't help but to think… that my mom is tired of me. That she doesn't want me anymore. Ever since that night with Simon, it's been like this. Maybe I should just leave, get out of her hair. It'd be better than just sitting there, taking up space…

No. I have to stop being so… negative. She doesn't hate me. If she did, it would be as obvious as sunset and sunrise. I've got to stop being so damned paranoid. No one hates you. Not a lot of these kids even know you. They don't hate you, and neither does Ela – mom. Just… have a good time on this trip. Laugh, have a good time. Don't let all of this shit get to you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Madison Conner (G01) felt extremely dizzy. Was that the word to describe this feeling? Yeah. It wasn't the perfect expression that she could have used in this type of situation, but it would have to do for the time being. After all, Madison felt like vomiting every single molecule that was inside of her body at that moment. Maybe ‘dizzy' wasn't the word to use. Maybe the words ‘nauseated', ‘sick' and ‘stomach-turning' were good starts (although one would argue that stomach-turning was two words instead of one, but Madison didn't like to go in depth about the subject). Dizzy felt like an understatement.

The jungle she happened to have awakened in wasn't the best place for a girl like herself. In all definitions of the word, it was the last place Madison would be caught in. How ironic was it that she happened to have awoken there, of all places. She wanted to laugh softly, but her voice was broken, as if it knew that now wasn't the time. Instead she stumbled across the plains (luckily not finding herself caught in any booby traps or any of those sorts of things), and found herself standing in front of a huge tree. Hollowed out from one large part of it, Madison could imagine that it was used as a path for vehicles, but due to the fact that the last thing that could have ever crossed her mind at that time was thinking of what the tall tree was used for. She just sat there, on the side of the tree. The thought of actually going in it never occurred to her, but she probably wouldn't have liked the idea anyway.

Madison's delicate hand trembled violently, as though it was winter and she only had an undergarment on. Her whole body shook as well, her back pressed up against the tree, sitting at a very conveniently grooved part that was a perfect fit for her head. Despite the fact that it was still dark out, the humid air made her sweat. The bag that she had been assigned was thrown off to the side, cast away like so much used tissue. She refused to even look at it, much less open it. The thought of there being a weapon inside of it made her even woozier in her head. Well… she was too queasy to rise to her feet, but she wasn't sick enough to churn up everything. In all honesty, she truly wished she would. At least that would make her believe that everything that was happening was real. Somehow, the thought of everything that was happening seemed surreal, as though she was in a horrid dream that would not end, no matter how much she pinched her arm or threw cold water on top of her hair.

I… used to think that my life was perfect… nothing wrong could ever happen. Oh… how wrong I was. I was naive to believe that. I was so ignorant, that I couldn't have recognized that anything and everything could happen. Now, I've finally realized all of this. That this could have happened to anyone, and I suspect it would have been just as lucky to have chosen another school as my own school getting chosen. Dear god, I hope that all the kids in my school are saner than I thought they were, or there's no single chance in hell that I'll be getting through all of this unscaved… Dear god, what am I supposed to do?

How could anyone blame her? It was a hard thing to believe, being driven to kill. Not to mention being under a time limit. Madison really wished that no one in her class was crazy enough to kill everyone else, and so far that conviction had been proven true. She had seen a few kids wander past her, even though she wasn't entirely sure if they had seen her sitting there, as if she was already a corpse. Maybe that was what they got her confused with. A dead, rotting corpse. A dead, rotting over corpse that was very much alive. Madison would have felt insulted to have been called as a dead body, but strange circumstances call for strange favoritism. Favoritism? Madison laughed inside, if only a little. Favoritism was the worst way to describe it. If favoritism even played into it, then all of this wouldn't have been happening. Madison would be camping in the wilderness, eating marshmallows to her hearts content. She would have called herself a ‘victim', or the ‘casualty' but it was very well-known (to herself at least) that she never was the one to ever get hung up on semantics. Victim was the perfect name for herself.

Madison had attempted to write in her diary. She had tried for almost a hour, but in the end the efforts of which seemed pointless. Her hand violently slammed the book into the ground, soon wrapping her arms around her legs, cradling into a fetal position. Even if she thought that twenty-four hours had passed, only one had gone past in actuality. Heck, the only reason she wasn't still in that position was that her leg cramped up and she forced it to straighten out. She hadn't eaten, slept or move an inch from her spot on the ground, pressed up against the hollow tree. She (or at least her mind did; Madison for the most part was very unresponsive) continued to question her purpose here, a tear slowly falling down her already dampened black face. She queried not only the reason why she was chosen for this sick game, but her life altogether. Everyone told her that it was too hard to ever know, to ever suspect when you were meant to die. That when your time came, you wouldn't expect it. When whoever had come up with that phrase first used it, did he/she ever figure that something like Survival of the Fittest would happen? Whoever came up with that expression needed to get every prize known to man, because it was the best way Madison could ever describe what was happening to her right then and there.

Why am I here? Why… I'm just a nice girl. I never did anything to hurt anybody else. I centered myself away from anything that would cause me any trouble. I stuck around with friends that actually gave a damn instead of using me… How could this ever happen? Why would they want me? I don't understand.

Madison's tear-soaked wandered over to her assigned bag. It was a large bag and when she had first picked it up, it weighed almost a ton. This was probably an effect of the drugs that she had been given, but she wouldn't put her money down on that assessment. There was one thing that she did know: whatever she had was very large. And sharp. She noticed something sharp pointing out of one of the sides of the bag. She really didn't want to open it. No matter what. She didn't want to see what it was. Her mind could imagine all it wanted, she didn't want to know. She didn't…

Curiosity had one that battle. As if she were a small inquisitive child who had spotted something mildly interesting, she fumbled for her assigned bag. Her whole body became tense. Inside her mind, Madison hoped that she wasn't given any joke weapons. She wished it was something useful and not some kind of joke weapon with a sharp tip. Few people would actually take her seriously if the only form of defense she has is a box of Kleenex. The chances of getting a box of tissues were slim to none, but Madison really didn't know how SOTF operated. After a great deal of thought from her own part, Madison's eyes wandered down to the bag, which had fallen onto her side. She stared at it for what seemed like the longest time, a chill running down her spine. This is it… In this bag is the chance I have to survive all of this… no matter how I look at it… I can stay here forever. I can hide away from everyone else, but I CAN'T just refuse to look in here… I have to see. I have to see if I even have a chance. With a sharp, sudden movement, Madison took the bag into her right hand and flopped it down onto her lap. Her left hand zipped it open, her right arm letting the whole bag go to fish inside of it.

… An axe. A fire axe. Her hand accidentally rubbed up against the sharp end, managing to make a small, deep cut inside her hand. Madison repelled away from the bag, gripping her hand tightly. She squeaked softly. After a minute of hesitation, Madison's other hand went right back into the bag, pulling the axe all the way out. The first thing she noticed about it was that it wasn't as heavy as she had originally thought. It was heavy enough that she had to use both her torn hand and other hand to hold it up, but it certainly didn't weigh a ton. The second thing: the part that she had cut her hand on wasn't the sharp part at all. Instead it was the other side that formed a small, sharp point at its end. The axe itself wasn't meant for fighting, Madison imagined, but it was very useful. She was lucky she didn't have a party blower or some other useless weapon. Her chances seemed very good at that moment.

Then it became all the more obvious. She couldn't say for certain but she knew that for every person that had a useless weapon, at least one other person had a fairly lethal one as Madison's. Guns, Swords, Grenades… Her imagination was running wild with all the possibilities that were even possible. Suddenly her chances didn't seem as great as it originally looked.

…

Wait. Was she actually CONSIDERING playing? No. Madison wasn't that desperate. She wasn't going to lose her mind. She wasn't going to kill everyone she laid her eyes upon, friend or foe alike. There had to be a way to escape the fate that has befallen her. She hasn't had much experience in SOTF. Hell, she's refused to watch it at all. Yes, the names Hawley Faust and Cody Jenson have entered conversation and she knew what the general idea of the game was, but that was as far as her knowledge stretched. She was certainly not an expert in any of this, but if there was ONE thing she knew for certain, it was that there had to be at least one sane person within the bunch of crazies. There had to be someone who had some sense in them, and that was the one thing Madison wanted to find: someone like her. Still… the chances of that were slim.

Madison was afraid.

Madison closed her eyes slowly, letting the bag she was given fall on the ground. Her left hand gripped the ground beneath her in a desperate fashion, her right slamming the fire axe into the ground. Her eyes were transfixed at another tree in the distance, a tall one that looked vaguely familiar. It looked like Samantha. Madison was glad she was seeing her former friend, even if she was well-aware that she was hallucinating. Her mouth opened slightly, forcing herself to speak.

"Sam…" She said to the image of her friend implanted in her memory, her own voice very low, almost too low to get picked up by the mike on her collar. "If you're there… Please… Please pray for me. I don't know what to do… Please, give me some sort of sign. A sign that shows that I can get through this… dear god…" Her left hand let its grip loosen, moving up to her face, trying to brush a tear out of her eyes.

"I don't want to die… I don't… I want to live… There's still so many things I want to do… NO… Please let all of this shit… A dream… Please tell me this is a dream, Sam."

Her tone raised upward, the intensity in her voice multiplying ten-fold. Tears began to escape her eyes despite her best efforts against it. Her right hand dropped her weapon, pressing her palm against her right eye, her left arm doing the exact same thing. Madison was becoming an emotional wreck, coughing and sputtering, her whole body shaking like a madman.

"Jesus Christ, Sam! If you're there, if you can possibly help me, please… Tell me this is a dream! Pinch me; pour a bucket of water over me, whatever you want! Just show me that all of this is just a fucked up dream, because I WANT TO WAKE UP! I WANT TO WAKE UP! I…wanna wake up! I… I…"

Madison's whole body slumped, the outer ridges of her eyes becoming moist and a visible bluish-black. Both of her petite hands fell to their respected sides, her lips pinching up. She waited for a moment, for the divine intervention that she had just asked for. For her shining prince of armor to come and carry her away from this sick place. Most of all, Madison just wanted to wake up. No matter how much she waited for someone (or something) to come, nothing ever did. She hadn't even seen something move for the whole hour that she waited. Her eyes slowly opened up, another tear running down the right side of her face. "If… If this is all just a mirage… that this is just a screwed up dream, then… then this is one dream I don't think I'll have any chance of waking up from anytime soon."

For a brief moment, Madison began to contemplate what everyone that she knew were doing. She wanted to be surrounded by all of them, although they weren't that great of a number. She had only known several people. Was Kristen (G10) holding up? Was… Simon (B33) okay? Was he even still alive? How could she ever be sure of that? Madison really wanted to curse out Danya and everyone involved in this game, but she didn't see the point. It wasn't going to change anything. It wasn't going to save her from certain destruction.

Madison soon remembered the number she was given. Girl #01. It was a strange feeling, being number one. She certainly didn't feel like the number one girl on the island. She felt like the last. She felt like her number was in the negatives. Girl #-01. That's what she felt like she was. Look what she's been degraded to. Having to survive, to kill to survive. She never even liked the idea of SOTF to begin with. That's why she never bothered to watch TV when it was on for a full week. She hated SOTF, and being a part of the game itself wasn't having a positive effect on her opinion.

Her lips quivered. "Someone… a-a-any…one… please…"

Madison didn't even consider that her small, unnecessary outburst could have alerted anyone in a three-mile radius. And if she had realized this, she could only hope that whoever wandered into her small little hiding place was peaceful.

G01 Madison Conner - ALIVE

[[ Continued from This Is What We Aim For ]]

Izzy hadn't a clue where she was heading, having wondered aimlessly from the field of flowers she had woken up some… removing her cellphone again for the twenty-first time check in the past fifteen minutes, deducting it had been somewhere close to two hours seen she had begun actually walking with no destination whatsoever in mind. Unable to bring herself too, mind still wrapped to tightly around the sudden facts hitting her from left to right at what she found herself in this place, in this… game that she had seen and heard about for the past two years but had never once thought she would end up being a part of it. How could she? Out of all the high schools in the US… why-why where they the ones to be chosen to have to deal with this, turning classmates into killers and friends against one another as they all tried to fight for that single position in being the sole winner.

The thought alone caused her stomach to churn and tighten uncomfortably to the point of almost puking again, managing to hold the sensation down and continue walking instead… but just where too, all this confusion, aimless wondering without thought and inability to decided really made her wonder she hadn't been killed off already by one of her classmates-turned-enemy hiding in the trees with a sniper rifle or something.

Still slightly shaky hands moving to remove her phone from her pocket again, unsure why she kept checking it… maybe hoping a call or message would come in, from a friend, from her parents… she didn't know. Gazing at the ‘no signal' display that continued blinking over and over again, almost taunting her as she shoved the object back into her pocket and moved to remove her map next, glancing about the area and figured that standing in the middle of this trail probably wouldn't be the best thing for her, biting her lip and jogging over toward the overgrowth of bushes that led into the wood line. Moving deeper until she was sure that no one from the pathway would be able to see her, pressing her bark against the bark of a tree and falling into a seated position against the forest floor.

Location after location littered the whole map. Unable to bring herself to even think about one place long enough before her mind was trailing over to another... unsure of just what she was looking for, though maybe she did know. Worried about her friends, worried about Adam -- though he'd be in there with friends, right? Well, they where in an... odd stage of sorts, either way it didn't stop her from worrying, after all, he couldn't even think of what he was probably going through waking up stuck back in this... this damn thing, two years after having to watch friends die and having to fight for your life every waking moment.

Though in a way, she figured she'd be learning soon too...

Sighing though and shaking herself of the thoughts she moved to try and return to the map, and figuring something out for herself before she was found herself almost jumping several feet into the air at the screaming voice echoing through the air, the words causing her whole body to shudder and her hand shooting down to the zipper of her bag that is until she caught herself and suddenly felt rather sickened with herself that she was letting herself already get caught up in this. Taking several deep breathes, the voice still ringing in her ears, was someone in trouble? I didn't really sound like it, more resembling what she had been thinking back at the field.

Folding her map up quickly and sticking back into the back pocket of her shorts as she found herself moving, perhaps against her better judgment, toward where the once had come from. Wondering back toward the pathway until she found herself pausing at the sight of the large tree, almost distracted by it before odd little sounds caught her attention. Izzy blinking slightly and tilting her head back down as she continued moving toward the tree, pressing her head lightly against it and starting to make her way around, attempting to be careful of above-ground roots tripping her up and knowing her luck probably break her neck.

The sight though she found was something she both expected and didn't expect, continuing to move forward a bit slowly -after all the last thing she needed was this girl thinking she was a threat- though hoping the other had heard her approach and wouldn't be startled, unable to really tell just who this girl was from her current point of view. Finding a rather small sound escaping her, "Um. Are you alright?" She mumbled, tisking and cursing lightly soon after. Was she alright? What kind of dumbass question was that, considering where they where and all.

"I mean... you're not hurt or anything are 'ya, I heard someone yelling and figured..." Izzy trailed off at that point, figuring she wouldn't have to explain herself, trying to smile lightly in hopes of further proving herself to be anything but a threat.

Madison wasn't exactly the kind of girl who liked surprises. They always made her upset, and scared the living daylights out of her. Though this was just the case, she was in too much of a daze to even care. The voice had shocked her yes, but she didn't feel the need to run in the opposite direction. Madison hesitated from responding, not even bothering to look up for what seemed like the longest moment imaginable. Almost out of habit, her right hand wrapped tightly around the fire axe that was struck deeply into the ground, finally gaining the courage to let her eyes rise upwards. She diverted from actually making eye contact, partly from fear. The girl, actually thinking for a minute that the figure was just another image that her mind had conjured up, started to calm her senses. From what she could tell, the kid standing right in front of her meant no harm whatsoever.

It was very hard for her to believe that. The brunette's mind began to whirl, still hesitating on the reply. After all it could all be an act. A play that was meant to force Madison into a false sense of safety. It seemed farfetched in the very least but Madison wasn't going to dismiss that small negative electron that was telling her to be cautious. Then again... that girl didn't exactly mean much harm towards Madison, but was the opposite true? She was in the perfect position, to leap up from her seat on the ground and... and.... well, kill. Madison had an axe after all. She had the odds on her side. She could make this quick...

...but then again. Madison couldn't do that. Wasn't she just saying to herself that she wanted someone to help her? Why would she throw something such as that away in a blink of an eye? Plus, even though the piercings all along the female's (for some reason, Madison got the idea that she was speaking to a boy) face suggested otherwise, she wasn't exactly intimidating. Even for Madison.

Madison sighed softly. She spluttered, a tear running down her face.

The damp spots on the girls cheeks sparkled slightly, her whole body trembling violently. There wasn't enough time to waste hesitating on an answer. Madison really needed a friend, and whoever she was staring at was as close to an ally as she was probably going to get. The girl's tone made the decision even easier although none of this forced cheeriness was transferred over to Madison. She wasn't in the mood to fake a smile. She was very good at it, faking emotions that is. She was used to it. Her mother always told her never to frown when out in public, because it made them think that it made her (as in her mother) look bad. Doing it now seemed very pointless however. No matter how much she would force herself to think that everything was alright, there was no denying the truth. After all, they were all going to die. Madison nervousness seemed more noticeable than the black lines running down her tear-drenched face, her speech very choppy and abrupt. She stammered through most of it.

"N-N-No... I'm fine... I'm... not... hurt a-at all..." What do you mean by 'am I alright?' Of course I'm not alright! Wasn't it obvious? Madison had the temptation to actually say that but she didn't. "I... well... This g-game... it's just g-g-got me so up... up... upset, that I don't... I-I don't know what I'm... su-suposed to do..."

((Continued from The Cursed and the Damned))

Paul Smith was thinking.

This lead to a few occurrences, Paul was of course a very smart person when he chose to be and now with the gun held in hand he was pondering exactly what direction he should take in the game, he could go the route of a player, but that publicized his actions. If people knew Paul Smith was a killer then they could know not to trust him, if Paul Smith killed your best friend you'd want to kill Paul Smith and the death or people attempting to cause said death of Paul Smith was something he wanted to avoid. Still he kept towards the brush side of the road leading to the hollowed out tree, completely hidden and with his finger lightly grasping the trigger of the MPK5. At a moments notice he would apply a slight pressure and a three round burst would come forth from the gun and towards his opponent.

Some would call that a waste of a SMG, Paul Smith called it conservation.

He couldn't help but shake his head at the pragmatic stance he had taken in this game, ironically if he had taken school as serious as this he would be one of the many Southridge alumni sitting on their couches watching TV and being mortified at how many kids he knew where dying. It was bad that he was now regretting getting a high school diploma, but Paul tried his best to shake these doubts...being miserable wouldn't help him win the game, having doubts would only get himself killed. Those watching would say that Paul had a calm aura, almost as if he was a trained soldier, those that knew Paul would know something was up: He had thrown away one of his Zippo lighters about 100 yards back. The reason? When Paul got anxious he lit up the lighter rapidly for several seconds.

His first lighter had completely run out of fuel within the first hour of the game and now he was trying his best to not play with his second: no lighters meant no cigarettes. And if Paul couldn't smoke he couldn't promise he would be calm, hell he couldn't promise that he wouldn't put his gun to his head and shot himself right there. As he continued to swiftly walk on the side of the road he couldn't help but focus his eye upon the hollow tree and what lied in it's clearing. He brought the gun up, two figures, easy in his sight. A slight pressure would send bullets rushing towards them, killing them. No, it wouldn't be killing, it would be eliminating threats.

The gun was raised for several seconds before he finally put it down and audibly sighed, he couldn't do it, not yet. He couldn't kill Melina, an obvious murderer with no redeeming qualities, how could he expect to kill people who've done nothing to him? This desensitization and survivalist thought was becoming a lot more difficult to adopt than Paul originally assumed; he chastised himself, he would never make it off this damnable island if he couldn't accept these facts. From now on people where going to die, no amount of heroism was going to change this. These people, the rest of the students would watch him die to save their own lives...and still he couldn't pull the damnable trigger.

He shrugged his shoulders a bit as he finally approached the hollow tree and made himself visible to the two girls, pointing his gun at them he smirked a bit.

"Would you mind relinquishing your weapons ladies?", he said calmly, nonchalantly like he was unaffected by the entire SOTF situation. Paul was a surprisingly good actor, for a moment he had even fooled himself.

Then.... another person. No. Not another person. That wasn't what Madison saw. She saw a gun. The Gun. Pointed directly at her. The thought of it made violent shivers go along her whole body. A gun. A gun was staring her right in the face. The thought of it... the sight of it made Madison want to break into hysterics. It was calling her name. It was staring at her. Staring... Madison didn't seem to visually care about the boy or what he was ordering them to do. All she knew that he had a eyepatch on, and that was reason enough to get suspicious. She was scared out of her own wits to actually see a gun. How was she supposed to react? She could listen to the demand that the boy was presenting them with. That was a start. Then again, he could easily just kill the both of them after that, so that was out of the question.

There was a chance. The boy seemed sharp, quick on his toes. Calm especially. There was a slim chance that Madison could get out of this situation.

"O-Okay sir.... just d-d-don't shoot."

Slowly she rose to her feet, grasping the bag into her left hand. As if she didn't even notice that her axe was right next to her, she dug through her bag desperately in search for something. She paused for a moment, getting another glance at the man who stood up ahead of her. Alright Madison... this is a huge risk you're taking with this. Just don't make a huge fool of yourself. This is your only chance... don't screw up... don't screw up...

Instead of handing him the axe, Madison decided it best to throw her spare box of Raisinets instead. She threw it as hard and as fast as she could, aimed directly for the boy's head. Madison was desperate, scared completely out of her wits. Without another minutes hesitation, she picked up her axe into her right hand and with her bag in the other, high-tailed it as fast as her legs could carry her. Whether she would get out in time, she had no clue. She didn't care at all either. She didn't look back either.

((Continued in From Serenity to Shame))

Izzy found herself sighing a little, rubbing at the back of her neck somewhat as she gazed at the obviously devastated girl in front of her, tisking a little. "Fuck… I mean, yeah you're not alright, that's pretty clear… I just, shit this is just messed up it all. I don't know anymore." She said lightly, frowning visibly as she glanced to the ground, shaking her head somewhat as she found her habit of sucking on her bottom lip returning whenever she was nervous or unsure, because she didn't know what to do… well try and help of course, but was this something where something like that wasn't needed, she shouldn't be caring about something like this. That's what she was telling herself if she gave a flying fuck about this game, tilting her head back down to the seated girl, when something suddenly caught her attention…

Usually one would be drawn to the odd looking boy suddenly appearing on the scene right near them, cursing lightly for not paying attention, but the biggest problem right now was the fact of what the boy was holding, swallowing hard at the sight of the gun suddenly facing them, and listening as the male suddenly demanded their weapons. Fucking jackass… tisking loudly, uncaring of his calm demeanor, unable to care about anyone lowering themselves to shoving guns in people's faces and demanding their weapons to leave them completely defenseless, then what? Kill them, because leaving them without weapons they where as good as dead anyway.

As the other girl spoke, Izzy gave her a small look – breathing out lightly as the girl began to dig through the contents of her daypack, confused as she glanced toward the axe out the corner of her eye, before turning back to look at the boy with the gun, mind racking for a name… she knew he had something to do with music, but there were so many boys involved she didn't give it too much thought.

Because after all, suddenly something was being thrown and the girl was taking off into the woodland, standing confused for second before she realized just what had happened, gaping for a moment before taking her chance and turning quickly on the heels of her shoes and took off, following after the girl with barely a second glance back toward the boy with the gun, her heart pounding so loud even though she had only been running for a few seconds, but she knew it was because she just realized how real all of this was… that more and more people where going to be willing to kill. Some might not even care about weapon and just go right for the kill, removing the thoughts from her mind and forcing herself to focus on running as fast as she could bring herself too.

[[ Continued in From Serenity to Shame ]]

"Got to find someone… got to run… Got to hide… got to do something!" She said over and over as she ran without a destination through the island. Something had snapped inside Serenity Halos, poster girl for Southridge High, the minute she awoke on the island. She realized something terrible.

Serenity Halos was going to die here.

She was running scared. Who could she possibly trust? She didn't know. Kara? But where was she? Monique? But she had to find her. Steve? But she didn't know where he was. She felt the hot tears roll down her cheeks as she rushed around, scurrying about like a mouse to find some sort of shelter.

Her eyes fell upon the form of a rather large tree in the middle of the wood. She slowed to a walk and approached it. She felt herself shaking, holding out the foil in a defensive position. Her hands were shaking badly. She felt as if she were going to have a panic attack. Her eyes fell on a moving figure, she yelled out and fell to her butt.

"No! Please!"

Well, Paul couldn't exactly have seen the hold up going any other way, he visibly sighed as they walked away and he reached for another cigarette. His fourth today and it seemed that he wouldn't be stopping anytime soon, the cancer would probably get to him before anyone else on the island did. Call it pretentious, but Paul was confident he could take out anyone here, hell Darnell himself would probably be his most difficult combatant and if he was lucky he'd already be dead by the time it came for Paul to start actively killing. He was about to slap himself for the pure ridiculousness that he was actual

And that's when Serenity Halos came busting into the tree crying, to be honest Paul was confused and found himself raising his eyebrow and wondering to himself who exactly this was, if only for a brief second before images of his life before the island hit him like a ton of bricks: Serenity Halos. Imagery of their last meeting rushed into his mind, the chemistry, the tension, the pure evilness of it all. Hell he wasn't able to look Steve in the eye ever again after it and when Paul handed him the title of Prom King (in a large twist Paul was the king last year so had to 'hand over the throne') he almost felt like wincing. Anyways Serenity stood in front of him, crying and asking him not to hurt her. He wanted to leave, this could lead to nothing but problems.

Yes, he was commanding his body to run, but what he found was him kneeling down to her level and raising up her chin to meet his face a light grin plastered upon it. Kissing her lightly on the forehead he snickered a bit and then rose up to survey the area to see if anybody else was coming, this whole move of his was nothing but trouble, but he still made sure nobody would interrupt him, nobody would ambush him. He found the ability to devote his effort to making sure they survived and holding a conversation with Serenity difficult, but after a second of looking he turned to her again.

"Be more careful," he said calmly, "Next person you barge in on might not be a friend, you're a pretty girl, I'm sure there are a few jealous bitches just waiting for you to waltz in and get shot.", he chuckled a bit, but the laughter sounded forced; forced laughter, a first for Paul Smith.

Serenity had her hands covering her head, waiting for the inevitable to come. She felt someone move near her, and touch her face. She flinched, but when he raised her head up, she visibly relaxed. Paul Smith. It was Paul. She wasn't going to die yet. He smiled goofily at her and gave her a peck on her forehead. She didn't know why but she felt her cheeks turn hot.

He told her to be more careful. He laughed. She had never really heard him laugh before. She felt more tears well up. She jumped up and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, sobbing into his collar.

"Oh Paul! I'm so scared! So damn scared! What the hell did we do? Why is this happening?" She cried.

And that's when she leapt into his arms and buried her head into his chest and neck, at first he didn't know how to react, but he just went with it and wrapped his arms around her waist and bringing her in closer to him. It felt...odd, on one end of the spectrum he felt glad that he was holding Serenity, glad that there was still something to be salvaged and that he could trust someone. On the other hand...well he was better off alone, his own demons in regards to playing the game where his to deal with and involving Serenity in them was not only morally wrong, but it would hold him back significantly.

Still though Paul could never quite refuse the warmness and kindness of a woman's embrace, the smell, the closeness. It was his favorite thing, while Paul enjoyed sex as much as the next guy, this was his guilty pleasure. Simple hugs. It reminded him a lot of his mother, he preferred not to think about her often...she had died when he was very young, but he still occasionally found himself swamped with thoughts. Would she have been proud of him? How would she've reacted to all of his mistresses? Hell would he have become a completely different person. Maybe, just maybe he would've accepted a good thing and just stayed with Serenity until the end of the game...protect her, step up to the plate.

And then Lance's corpse flashed through his mind.

Stepping up to the plate was a stupid move in this game, Paul was here to survive. If that meant eliminating threats and ignoring friends then it was something he would've to do, right now in their embrace Paul could've literally slipped his knife out of his pocket and get her right in the back of the neck. It would be quick, painless and she would be surprised...it was the smart move. Anyone dead was one less person to kill him.

You're such a fucking pussy Smith, everything you're thinking makes sense, but you're not going to act upon it...so just give up...

"I don't know why we're here Serenity," he paused a bit, "Right now though I'm wishing we weren't, right now I would like nothing more than to sit down and just hold you until this whole thing blows over..."

It was a Hallmark answer that Paul himself didn't even believe, intentionally it was corny, but Paul decided to roll with it. He tightened his hug on Serenity and leaned down to put his mouth to her ear, it became clear that Paul Smith, the big Paul Smith was lightly sobbing. Even he was surprised at it, he was thinking perfectly clearly in his mind, yet his body had induced whatever chemicals it associated with sadness to cause his anxiety to take over. For a moment he wondered if Serenity had a lighter in her back pocket.

"I just don't know what to do Serenity..."

Serenity felt so comfortable in his arms like this. She too, wished they could just stay like this till the end, but something in his voice told her this wasn't to be. Something inside her pressured her to stay though. He hugged him tighter and he began to sob lightly as well. She felt his emotions rush through her own body. It was like they were one person for that split second.

And she'd never been happier.

"I don't know what to do either... I just want it to stop... i don't want to kill anyone. They're my friends, how can i hurt them?" She asked through choked sobs. She wanted to be back at school. She wanted to be safe.

"Why can't I just wake up from this nightmare?" She pushed away slightly and looked him in the eyes.

"We're probobly never going to see anyone we knew alive again..." She leaned in slightly. It felt so right, to be there with Paul. She fellt, safe, protected, happy.

And that's when he separated from her and looked towards the outside, his back towards her for this brief moment and then he turned around to face her again, but not before he did something he had never done in all of his life. He lifted his eye patch out of the way to reveal the empty socket. The surrounding area was extremely pale, but Paul just continued speaking, pacing around the hollowed tree and speaking aloud, more to himself than anyone else, but Serenity was there and she was willing. Fuck, almost every relationship he had been in had begun in similar circumstances.

"From now on Serenity, people will die."

It was said calmly as if stating a fact and he continued walking, running by his thoughts in his mind in an attempt to get them eloquent and presentable rather quickly. Pacing himself he brought his hands forward.

"Firstly there is something you should know and I know this isn't going to be what you want to hear and fuck I know it's not appropriate to say at all in a situation, but y'know? Fuck it, I don't really think you're going to spaz out on me if I say it...", he prepared himself, "I'm going home Serenity and there is just one way to get off this island and no it's not killing, nah that's a simple train of thought. The one way to get off this island is to survive and I fully intend on winning this thing...so before we go, fuck in this tree and try our best to survive this thing together you should know that I'm for all intents and purposes playing."

He shook his head and then waved the gun melodramatically in the air, he was getting in the zone as all the thoughts he had in recent hours where just pouring outwards.

"Secondly Serenity, I know that only one person wins this thing and I intend on it being me. It's selfish. It's poorly thought out. And yeah, it probably sounds ridiculous now that I'm saying it, but I want to be the last man standing and even though I'm not going to kill everyone in sight or even try killing people unless necessary: it's going to happen and if I protect you to the Final 2...well let's just say that I'm not going to kill myself and I don't think you can beat me. Anyways my point is that I can't build up connections, connections are something I have to abandon! And here I am getting all sobby about a girl? Fuck that I'm not even in the right state of mind to shoot a gun much less dedicate myself to you.

So if I can't build connections as I'm going to have to sever them eventually and I can't kill everyone I see because I'm a little bitch unlike Melina Frost, who is playing by the way. She killed Lance and she'd probably've added tens of more people to her body count if I didn't steal this gun, there is only one thing for me to do and that's for me to walk alone throughout this game.", he sighed a little bit before finally locating his lighter and lighting it up rapidly, it still flickering as he spoke and stared at the flame with his eye patch facing upwards and his face fully revealed to Serenity for the first time.

"So, before we do anything...before we throw whatever reservations and school clique policies we had back at Southridge to the wind know that it can't and won't last beyond here and that this moment. Right now. Is probably the last time we'll ever speak or have the opportunity to do anything together."

It was then that all of the protection and happiness Serenity felt was shattered into non-existance. Paul pushed away from her and started to rant on her. He would survive. If he protected her, in the end, he'd kill her anyway. What a bastard. How dare he make her feel so safe and then knock her back down. She wasn't a doll! She was noone's plaything to be used! She wouldn't stand for this.

Serenity stood and gave Paul a look that noone had ever been given by her before in her entire life. A look of pure, unadulturated hate and contempt for everything that was Paul Smith.

"So, you'd kill me in the end? The kill me now! Kill me! You can't can you!" She narrowed her eyes and grabbed the foil from the ground.

"This make it easier? I'm armed now! Kill me! Blow my head off! I'm just going to die anyway, right?!" She yelled.

"Wrong Paul... I don't need you. You can take your gun and gor Fuck yourself with it for all I give a damn. I'm not going to die here, on some shitty little island. There are people who are looking for a way out, i'm sure. I'm going to find them and I'll look for a way out too!. You're the only one who's going to die here, and when you do, you'll be alone! I hope you're happy. Goodbye Paul." She spat at the boy. She grabbed her daypack and quickly started to leav the tree. She was certain he wouldn't follow. She was going to survive, and she wouldn't kill anyone in the process.


Serenity Continued: ELSEWHERE

Bingo

And Serenity had taken the bait just as quickly as he expected her too and was storming off, really she was expecting something that Paul simply couldn't provide so he wouldn't lie when he said that he was glad at least to put that behind him, she had called him out of course, asked him to kill her. He knew she was lying, didn't believe him and was trying to provoke him and as she stormed off Paul of course felt bad and shook his head as he was now alone in this game, it was something he had to accept, but every relationship he had strived to build this year would've to be destroyed.

He had come to accept this, Serenity didn't want him to be a hero, she wanted him to be a martyr. Someone to protect her and then send her home in an act of pure unadulterated nobility. A statue to raise and a person to praise when she got home, he could've just imagined her kind words as his story of protecting her and killing himself off in the end became romanticized in myspace chain letters...it almost made him sick to his stomach. Still though, she was one person he didn't have to worry about getting in his way, hell he wouldn't be surprised if she immediately told everyone that Paul Smith was playing the game.

I should've just shot her while she was crying on the floor...

Paul Smith though grabbed his gun and placed his eye patch down as he walked away from another scene, he had gained a perspective on things and realized that no matter what if he admitted to playing people weren't going to just let him through if he didn't kill them. From now on when he pointed his gun it would be to shoot...SOTF was a game about survival and honesty and integrity had no place in it. The first step though? The first step would be to just wait things through and hope not to fuck up anything anymore.

It sounded easy enough...

((Paul Smith: Continued in Pomme de Terre))