Survival Of The Fittest

Paris walked into the Hotel lobby. His bag was slacked over his shoulder as he surveyed the area. The Gossip King breathed as steadily as he could. The boy didn't know what the hell was going on. Was this how the Gossip King was treated? It was outrageous! Someone just kidnapping you, putting you on an island, and forcing you to kill others.

The boy tried to focus on some positives. One of the good things was he could finally say goodbye to the mass amounts of nerds and losers. Maybe even kill them himself. But he didn't let death and murder cloud his mind. Instead he focused on the task at hand, to stable himself in a location while the rest of the world killed each other off. Of course the danger zones and unexpected encounters might prevent this plan from succeeding. It didn't matter, he didn't plan to stay here for a long time anyhow. However Paris needed to start in a place he can identify with, and a hotel is just the place.

No muddy forests, and dirty roads for him. Even though the hotel was a bit worn out it was stable enough for Paris' tastes when it came to this sort of situation. "Completley disgusting..." said Paris who was searching the lobby for anything of even remote use. The boy walked up the stairs to the second floor and started going thorugh the rooms. All the rooms were the same, a matress, dresser, etc. Every television in each room was completley powerless, no electricty to be found anywhere.

"This is the last time I ever stay in a Motel 6 dump like this." said Paris. You see nothing but five stars for the Gossip King. Paris started remembering the vacations with his family, nothing but the best for him. And thats what Paris was used to. After searching for a bit the boy sat down on one of the rooms beds. Rummaging thorugh his bag he touched the handle of something.

Out of the bag emerged a sort of long knife or sword kind of thing. Paris was scared, he needed time to adjust to the situation. The shock of the whole thing started to settle as Paris' hand shook a little widly with the knife in his hand. He put it down and closed his eyes. Breathing one, two, three, Paris' reascessed the situation.

On an island. No way out. Only way to get out is to kill everyone. Not too hard of a concept to understand. However Paris never ever killed anyone before, but as he thought that a spark went off inside of him. The day in the family room, Paris and Andy playing, jumping on the couch, blind wires, choking....... His long forgotten brother Andy Persphone popped into his head. Paris had long since forgotton him but for some reason this whole affair made the memory resurface. Paris grit his teeth and grabbed the knife.

"I didn't kill him, he let himself die. No skin off my bones. He was in the way anyway." Paris got up a little more calm but troubled by the thought of letting is brother die. Shaking his head he buried the memory back into his brain and focused on the situation at hand. "Well theres nothing else to do, that is until my peace is disturbed by some bumbling idiot." he said as he started to ramsack the room he was in.

"Boy No.7 Paris Persphone....." Paris walked up, he felt the pressure and stares of his fellow students as he received his bag. The classroom was stingy and dirty, not a place for royalty. And with dignity the boy left calmly into the hall were armed soilders guided him with their guns. Not phasing, once Paris got into the wilderness he started to jog. The island itself looked like a paradise. However in Paris' eyes it looked like a twisted version of the Garden of Eden.

Jogging thorugh the wilderness he saw a high building standing out admist the greenery. Paris traveled that way and saw the abandonded hotel. Looking up at the deteriorating building the Rumor Mills manager entered the grounds.  The wasted away signs and the grandness of the lobby he could tell it was a hotel.

A flash of what just happened went thorugh his mind like wildfire. It all happened so fast. He shook the thought away of his first twenty minutes of the game that he'd just spent and closed the door. About to turn back to search the rest of the room Paris spotted something. A plastic kind of pamphlet with a hole in it that rested on the doorknob. Taking it he examined it.

"Do Not Disturb." was faded into the plastic piece. Paris smiled at it. As the thought ran thorugh his head Paris opened the door and placed the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the outside doorknob and then closed it. Grabbing his knife that he tucked into his belt he touched the blade with his finger feeling the smooth metal.

Grabbing his bag Paris leaned against the wall next to the door. Paris waited to hear if anyone was coming. What he was doing was a little risky but what the hell, right when someone opens the door slam! A knife right in your throat. There was no use thinking about it, the only thing left to do was ride the wave and survive. That was the only thing that mattered. Someone as important as Paris can never die!

Let Version 2 Begin!

The first little bit had not been good to Franco. He had never been a brave boy, he did a very good job of pretending to be brave but when Mr. Hallam blew his own head off he was the first one to puke. Franco sobbed weakly and moped with his hands over his head. He curled into a ball in his seat and whimpered to himself. It was only halfway through the video that he looked up to see Cody Jenson in full heat. He had watched the clip before, and he couldn't help gluing his eyes to the screen.

That's what I have to do. I have to take what I want. Just like him. I already know what I want. I just don't know how...

That was the only question that had kept Franco from whimpering the rest of the time in the classroom full of doomed students.  Surely, his father with all his money and influence could get him out of here. That thought didn't comfort Franco for long...

I just have to do what father does. I know how to make people give me what I want, just like father. I can do it here too.

A number of frantic thoughts ran through Franco's head as he ran; bag tightly clenched in his greedy fists, his school vest covered in puke. If he could just get a hold of himself. If he could calm down than he could find a friend, he had many friends. He could use them just like he had used them before, he could get in touch with the syndicate they would scratch his back and he would scratch theirs. He would join them, no, they would join him.

"Ya, gotta hook 'em Frankie-boy," his father's voice rang through his head. "Ya sweeten 'em up and than you take what you want!" The used car-salesman turned real-estate multi-millionaire had always been good at convincing people. It was a gift he had passed on to his son. Those were words he would never forget.

Franco stopped outside an abandoned hotel. It was bright outside and he was finally achieving some clarity. He removed his stained vest, leaving only his white button shirt. Always look your best, that's half the battle in diplomacy. He wiped away his tears and surveyed the contents of his bag.

Well, lookie-here.

The grenade launcher sat well with Franco, even if he didn't have explosive ammo. He had to guess that sponge grenades would hurt a hell of a lot at close range, maybe even kill. If he couldn't convince people to join him, this would. It was just the boost of confidence he needed.

He finished sorting himself out, slung the bag over his shoulder and kicked his discarded vest into the dirt. He kicked open the hotel door and walked through its ghostly hallways.

"Hello?" Franco's pretentious voice rang through the hallways. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just looking for a friend."

He couldn't guarantee that someone was in here, but Franco could somehow tell. Maybe it was just an instinct.

Time to make some friends.

"We can get through this together!" Franco yelled confidently. "I swear on my dead Grandmother I won't hurt you!"

He-he, my Grandmother is still alive.

"Please," Franco continued walking, his gun at the ready. "Let's do this together."

Franco cursed himself under his breath. He looked around the room and to make sure no one was around. He reached into his bag a pulled out the instruction manuel for his gun. He flipped through the manuel and figured out how to load the damn thing. From there it was just a matter of pulling the trigger.

He continued to walk through the hotel until something caught his interest. A do not disturb sign hung room the wall.

Interesting...

Franco held his grenade launcher at full arms length and pointed it at the door.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," Franco's voice cracked. "Let's be friends."

Franco kicked open the door.

Paris continued musing at himself on his various plans to get out of this situation when a voice disturbed his thoughts. Ugh, already I have to deal with someone? Paris kept his knife by him and waited by the door.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just looking for a friend."

Who does this infedel think he is? Friends my ass. thought the Gossip King as he kept as silent as a mouse. It was amazing how someone can just already annoy you in the first hour of the game. As if the tension wasn't enough you have to deal with others like this idiot. It was just too much for Paris, the thought of him pairing up with an annoying loser thats not even worth his time made him want to ram his knife into his forehead.


"We can get through this together!"

Now Paris knew for sure this guy was a total loser. Who says "We can get through this togeather?" It made no sense to him whatsoever. As if that sounds more appealing at all. A comment like that can entice anyone out of their hiding please. Pah-leeze. Paris looked foreward into skewing this guys neck just to make him shut the hell up.

"I swear on my dead Grandmother I won't hurt you!"

The person speaking went even lower on Paris' annoying list. Strike number three almost made paris spring up from his room and hack him with his knife. However he had no idea what kind of weapon this guy had. Paris had to becareful, the guy might have a gun for all he knows.


"Please, let's do this together."

Someone kill me. Paris screamed inside his mind at this friendship crap. It annoyed him greatly, and whats worse he couldn't do anything about it. If he said anything he'd give his position away which can end the game for him here and now. The Gossip King did his best to not say absolutly anything. Just enter the goddamn room so I can get rid of this prick...

Anna saw the going ons from afar. She didn't want to be seen just yet though. She didn't know if thease guys were playing or not. She really needed to leave, but that guy was in her way. Jaime was waiting for her. She had to get out of here. That guy with the bazooza would kill her if she tried to push past. She had no choise. Here goes…

"E-excuse me? Sir with the bazooka? I-I'm not playing either… Please don't hurt me." She really hoped this guy was nice. If not, she was dead meat.

What the fuck?

Franco looked over at the petit girl just as he kicked open the door. He stumbled back into the hallway away from the door and the girl, confused and frightened. He raised his grenade launcher in her direction. His eyes went wide for a half-second as he tried to comprehend what the girl just said. She wanted to make friends?

No fucking way! I was just lying to get some back-up. I'm playing to live dammit!

"Hey there," Franco put on his used car-salesmen grin. "I won't hurt you there little lady. I was just, checking to see if someone was in this room. I'm just looking for a friend."

Franco inched a little closer to the girl, but he kept his grenade launcher on level with her gut. Franco braced himself with his free hand against the cheap wallpaper of the hotel hallway. A number of terrible wicked ideas ran through Franco's arrogant mind. He had his confidence now. He had a gun and a meat-shield in the form of an innocent, unknowing girl. He could see some fear and hidden hope behind her eyes. He could use those.

"Why don't we go together?" Franco's grin reached new heights as his confidence reached its pinnacle in his brief time on the island. Maybe he wouldn't be killed? Maybe he could manipulate his way to the top, just like his father. "I can protect you. I'm looking for a friend of mine; we can help each other out, yes?"

Little did she know Franco's friends probably weren't the most savoury group of people. Number among the syndicate and other rich spoilt brats, but if Franco could find them, he could use them to get to the top. He knew Marvin was here on the Island, he just had to make his way to him, and the two of them would work this out. He could get home and off of this god forsaken island. It was time for Franco Sebberts to start making his moves.

((Marvin is not there. Yet. While my first pose here would probably place him somewhere in the vicinity of the building, it's not likely Franco would notice him in the immediate, nor would Marvin himself want to be noticed since he is currently unarmed at the moment. To find out why he's unarmed, click hurr: http://z10.PLACEHOLDERLINK/SOTF_V2/index.php?showtopic=766

Thank you for your cooperation. n_n))

((I said he was here as in on the island. I just added it for clarification sake. I know that he isn't in the hotel . Sorry for the confusion @_@))

((Continuada dal Ascent Into Madness))

((IMHO, this is B-49's true starting post.))

The hotel door slid open, almost silently.

Ladies, ladies, ladies, Marvin Hendrick is in da hizzouse!

A lone figure stood in the doorway for a few seconds before making a dash toward the men's room. It was a rather quick affair to get there, as the famous universal symbols were posted next to a nice, big arrow on a wall nearby. Once he got into the first restroom - the ladies room, by some odd twist - he locked himself in a stall.

Shit, I'm tired.

His daypack seemed one size too big, from all the extra supplies he'd looted from Damien's. He got rid of the extra map and compass on his trek here, but that clearly didn't help. Marvin tossed the pack on top of the toilet's water container - a rather neat piece of American Standard - and plunked the seat down and sat on it.

He sighed and - for the first time in a while - began to think. He'd spent most of his trek from that manhole to here trying to make sense of that map he'd been given.

On the downside, he was here on a mostly-deserted island, unarmed, up against an unknown number of people, armed with weapons whose capability he could only guess but could reasonably assume were more powerful than his bare fists. He had extra supplies, but he only realized now that it would make him less of a bargainer/trader than a walking treasure chest. He had been on such a roll the last few weeks, kicking such easy ass (Damien's, and this one weird kid he'd met one fateful lunchtime) even past the point where those soldiers had dragged his shocked form off the bus into that room to watch some crazy snuff film. While trying in vain to keep himself from retching, he thought that it looked like something Damien would watch.

On some insignificant plus side, he was definitely away from his brother, and his family. Only now would they actually miss me, he thought with a forced chuckle. He lived the highlife, but not really as richly and decadently as his comrades in his little Cosa Nostra. He certainly wouldn't miss it as much, especially when he was given the short end of the stick compared to Richard. And Damien, well, Damien was now firmly out of both his and his own misery. It was definitely for the best...yeah...1 down...God-knows-how-many to go. The game had really only begun with Damien's death. Nicole and this Danya that he suspected still ran the Running Men hadn't come to retrieve him and send him home. Far from it. It meant he'd be punished even more severely.

He forced a smile and another laugh, and at the same time tried to hold back tears. The fervor, that adrenaline rush he got from picking on Damien and others - even the mere anticipation of a good day's "work" -  had taken this moment to suddenly fade out. He realized that he wasn't just unarmed or overly stocked.

He was alone. And even if Reneé, Franco or even Rowland Kelly were on the island, which - according to his observations on the bus - they very likely were, what were the chances that they'd even help him on his way? Hell, he'd suffer that same degrading, lonely fate he'd just issued on Damien. Karma coming back in spades for his almost lustful desire to rule and step on anyone in his way, amidst Nicole's stern warnings. Like God and Israel, the Assyrians at their gates. ((He'd think Sodom and Gomorrah if he were gay.)) This was how I lived. This is how I'm going to die.

Marvin then scowled. It was now too late for him to change his ways. He'd passed the point of no return when he left Damien to rot in those putrid sewers. If he was going to die on this God-forsaken island and burn forever in hell he would go down fighting. Maybe even kicking and screaming some incomprehensible battle cries. Moreover, he would take a helluva lot of people with him. He was starting to get furious. He could hear himself breathing. That fervor and anticipation that had retreated like the Sea of Reeds was coming back to flood the chariots.

He'd already taken down Damien, he was practice. Next would be that weird kid that didn't want to fight. Then then was that oh-so-sadistic blonde slut from the party that slammed Reneé's face into a coffee table. And Franco and that other slut he brought to the party. And of course, Reneé herself. And whoever else got in his way. He could take the direct approach, but even his anger he knew that would be suicidal. Right now, he thought he'd use force as part of some of Reneé's famous tactics of getting them loyal to him...then play them off each other.

Perfect. Revenge for revenge. The American Dream.

Right now though, he was hungry. He swiftly reached into his backpack - numbered 49 like he was on some professional football team, such a crude sport, football - and pulled out a loaf of bread. Whether it was Damien's or his, clearly didn't matter, as he tore off a large chunk and ravenously consumed it. Whole wheat didn't seem to taste nearly as dull when it might possibly be someone's last meal.

B49 - Hendrick, M - STATUS: ALIVE

Anna knew she shouldn;'t hacve said anyrthing. He saw her and pointed the bazooka at her. She flinched and waited for the incoming blow. Oh god... why does she doi such stupid things? now she was gonna die. No meeting up with Jaime. Sorry sis. Looks like I'm dead.

When she felt no impact she forced her eyes open. This guy wasn't goiung to kill her? He was looking for a friend? That was great! But she had to remind herself, this was a game of survival. He may just use her. He had a freind? maybe he could help her find Jaime.

"Um... I guess that's okay. But I'm looking for my twin. She and I suggested that we meet up at the school. I've looked at the map, it isn't too far. Wopuld that be alright?" She asked. She held her weapon in a clumy yet defencive position. She still couldn't quite trust this boy. She couldn't place it, but something seemed wrong.

"My, dear," Franco lowered his gun away from the girl. "I would never dream of hurting someone was delicate and beautiful as you. I would be delighted to help you search for your sister. Why don't you follow me?"

I can't believe this! This is turning out better than expected!

Franco began to walk back downstairs to the exit of the hotel talking boisterously to the young lady. Franco held his grenade launcher lazily at his side as he walked. He didn't bother to keep his voice down as he crossed the lobby, why should he? He was the king now. He had a fucking grenade launcher and a girl at his side as well. He was sure that everyone could hear as he questioned the girl and told her about himself.

"I'm Franco, by the way," he grinned. "Franco Sebberts, I go to PJ Gilroy. This sure is messed up isn't it?  Where about are you from mlle? What's your name?"

He was scared out of his mind when he first arrived here, but since he'd got himself settled down everything had been turning up aces for him. He was now convinced that it was his time to make his move, make his move for the top, and Renee and the others are damned in the end. Only one could come out alive.

The hotel was filled with other threats, of which Franco was completely oblivious. It would have been advisable for him to keep his voice down, but he didn't care. Right now he just had to get out of here and find a few more friends. Round up a posse and from there he would work this all out. He was playing to win, since finding his grenade launcher he was sure he was destined to win, but he wasn't going to do all the work himself...

Anna foloowed the boy down the hall and stirs, but was still a bit weary of him. He talked alot, she noticed. He also talked very loud. She didn't think that was too smart an idea. She waited for him to finish his speech before she cut in.

"Um... Franco... Could you please talk a bit lower? There might be others around to hear you." She pleaded with him. "By the way, my name is Anna. Anna Dibenidetti." She smiled at the boy. He seemed nice. A bit eccentric, but nice. She didn't put down all reason though. He could still just be leading her on. Giving her a false sence of security. She shook the thoughts from her mind and smiled again.

"So... where are we headed now? To the school? As I said before, it's not far." she hoped that they could head there soon so then they could pick up Jaime. She really needed her in a situation like this.

Somebody did hear, unfortunately for the girl. Fortunately, there was no (immediate) danger to her.

Marvin had probably finished about a third of the loaf before he felt full, and that had not taken as long as he'd thought. Taking a deep breath to try to stomach the stuff - and maybe avoid getting a nasty case of the hiccups - Marvin stuffed the remainder of the loaf back into his daypack and slung the bag around his back. He got up off the seat and unlocked the stall. He opened the door slowly, poking his head out to make sure there weren't any threats around.

Man, I got lucky...

Apparently, he'd realized that as much as he would be an easy target with his extra supplies, he'd very likely to be found even easier if he tried waiting out the entire game in some bathroom stall. And it would be plenty humiliating for him - his reputation - and his family's reputation - if he were to meet his unfortunate end there, especially when someone's attention might have been attracted to those heavy breathing and snarling eating noises. He just hoped nobody was watching now.

((Poor bastid. ))

Marvin advanced slowly out of the bathroom (and cringed quite severely when he noticed the sign above the bathroom door, DAMN. I really hope nobody saw that....) Thankfully, the hallway back to the lobby didn't have any other unlocked doors, so he really had only two directions to look...but no hiding place if someone came from either direction.

Suddenly, he could see someone cross his field of vision at the end of the hallway, heading toward the lobby as well. Marvin stopped dead in his tracks for a few seconds, the tension building.

Crap...did they see me!?

A few seconds later, they didn't come back. They probably didn't notice him.

He peered around the corner at the end of the hallway, affording a very good view of the lobby. He managed to observe not one, but two people heading toward the door: a boy and a girl. The girl he apparently didn't know, though the boy that was wooing her - and seeming to keep her safely in check - was eerily familiar. It was not until that boy outwardly gave his name that Marvin actually recognized him.

"Franco?" Marvin's thoughts were translated into speech. Soft speech, but there was nobody else around...at least from his point of view.

Paris was so close, he was about to jump and ram the knife he had into that guys neck however he never stepped into the room. Confused baout the situation Paris could hear another voice in the hall; It was a girls voice. The boy tuned into the conversation.

Anna Dibenidetti and Franco Sebberts. He didn't recognize any of there names. Not important. However, it mattered he would have to act nice if they end up finding him. Paris debated weather to jump the bandwagon or stay here. There is saftey in numbers, as well as paranoia and deceit. He was about to make up his mind when he heard Anna and Franco go downstairs. Their steps died away as Paris let out a silent sigh of releif.

I don't have to deal with that now...

It was obvious that the boy was stuck. If couldn't exit the hotel without encountering the duo in the lobby. And who knows whoelse is upstairs for all he knew. The matter was troubling but he didn't want to risk it so he stayed where he was.

Creeping toward the window of his room he still hasn't seen the two exit yet. Paris went back to the door and slowly closed it, he then went back into position leaning against the wall next to the door. As Paris waited there to hear any sudden movements he analyzed the voices he just heard.

Franco seemed like a bumbling coward by the way his voice cracked when he kicked down the door. Anna seemed like the female equivilant of the male however Franco had a more domineering quality. Especially with the bazooka Anna mentioned, a definite asset to his weaponry. Stupid little girl, he could have had the bazooka by now if he would've just stepped into the room. Paris would have skewered his head if that retarded girl didn't mess things up.

Hopefully the two will be killed one way or another. He wouldn't put anything past the students who've probably lost their minds and went on a rampage killing people in sight. They could be the bait for all those derranged people who were probably waiting for this kind of chance to blow people up. People like Ernest.

A flash of the pale nerotic reader appeared in his head hacking peoples heads off with a chainsaw. Classic horror. The boy obviously had some problems if he wasn't social. Reading all the time, keeping to himself. Those were the type of students to shoot up a school not to mention kill in this kind of game. This started to lead Paris to think about how his fellow classmates would react to this sort of game as we waited for someone or something to make a sound.

((Continued in This is Your Wake-Up Call...))

"Yeah," Franco nodded and smiled at Anna. "I think we should head to the school. That sounds like an excellent plan. We can find your sister and we can find our way out of here."

Franco turned and began to walk towards the exit of the hotel. It was hot outside, and the hotel was like a stuffy prison. Even with his PJ Gilroy sweater vest shed, Franco was sweating under his white dress shirt. It was just as he was about to escape this uncomfortable building that he heard a bloodcurdling scream coming from the other side of the lobby.

What the hell?! This shouldn't be happening in here! I though I found the only other person here?!

Franco's eyes went wide as he turned full circle about the doorway. He looked at Anna and realized he still had a panicked look on his face. He quickly turned it into a garish grin as he spoke to Anna.

"We'd better go see if we can help," Franco honestly wasn't worried about the person. He was worried for himself. He gripped his grenade launcher tight and started making his way towards the other doorway. He could be the next target. Better see what happened just in case. Franco hadn't heard any guns shots, which was the reason he was running ahead of Anna, he'd better get to the scene first. Assess before she got a chance to. Make a decision before she got a chance to oppose him.

He recklessly charged the doorway. Once again attracting even more attention to himself. He continued to sweat with panic and anger. He gripped his grenade launcher in both hands.

If someone wants to fuck with me I'll show them what this bad-boy can do.

((Continued in This is Your Wake-Up Call))

Anna almost peed herself when she heard the scream from the other side of the lobby. Oh god... Not here, not here... did someone die?! No... They don't just die... They're killed. People kill them, other KIDS kill them. Jesus. She started to panic. Franco seemed paniced as well. He told her that he was going to help and ran the stairs.

Anna didn't want to be alone... She didn't want to die either though. She had a weapon. She could help herself and others. She attempted a clumsy swing. Yeah she could do it. Yeah. She ran after the boy. She could hear his feet stomping twoards the door. That was going to attract alot of attention. She followed closely, trying not to lose sight of him.

Continued: This is your wake-up call