Survival Of The Fittest

A yawn escaped pretty lips; the sound followed quickly by the slow opening of eyes that had been asleep for a little too long. Blinking came next, and then the recollection of the multitude of thoughts and memories of the past hour. Horror, and then an ear-piercing scream. Silence. Tears. Useless crying and then the sudden realization. Running. It had begun. This was the order of actions for Girl #5 Annabelle Buchannon as she slowly woke up from her drug induced slumber. Everything had suddenly flooded back to her, the thoughts creating a torrent of emotions, and she recalled...

They were being forced to board the plane; forced to sit and watch as their trip to hell began. Annabelle remembered sitting in her seat, nervously staring out the window at the multitude of armed men outside. She was scared shitless. It was no denying that the situation was making her nervous, but at the sound of a gun firing, she began screaming uncontrollably, certain the bullet released was heading her way. She couldn't stop her screaming, but the blonde girl next to the redhead clamped a hand over her mouth and slapped her with the other. The tall girl ceased her screams.

Annabelle remained perfectly still instead, silently shaking with her fear. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be. 'But it IS happening.' she heard in her head, the voice an inhumane groan against her own airy repetition of 'No. No. No.'. It was hard for her obviously to grasp the situation, but the voice made her stop and look around. Everyone was glued to his or her seat on the plane, whether due to fear or excitement she didn't care to find out. She heard more gunshots followed by gasps and screams, but they fell upon dead ears as the smell of the blood, coppery and thick, pierced her nostrils, and she found it repulsive. Suddenly, the voice of a man filled her ears, and she found her attention drawn to the small screens along the plane lighting up and beginning to play what she guessed was to be an in-flight movie.

What she saw captivated her. It was horrifying, yes, but it was also strangely familiar. This... Survival of the Fittest... it had happened before. She could recall it from the last year, and her mother's quick action of turning off the television before the eighth grade girl could get a good glimpse of the disgusting deviations unfolding on the screen. Now, though, it was different. She watched as Hawley Faust killed Helena Van Garrett; watched as they battled for their lives before Helena finally giving in.

She suddenly wished her mother was there to turn off the screens at that moment, but the gatekeeper to Annabelle's mind was at home peacefully thinking her daughter was happily on her way out of Denton. Instead, her little girl was in the midst of reality, and was to be used as a lab rat testing Darwin's Theory. The last thing that the redheaded female remembered was  lifting her head up slowly, with a slight feeling of nausea looming in her head. Looking over at the blonde who had shut her up, the girl was fast asleep, and with that, so was Annabelle.

She did recall hearing what Survival of the Fittest was. It was a tournament of sorts, kind of like a test of skill, except for the tiny detail and fact that it meant killing off every other person until you were the last one alive. That was what it was going to be? It couldn't. She had just found some bit of good. Then the realization hit home. She would kill. She knew she would eventually kill someone. This made her scream. In reality, it was more like a blood-curdling shriek of horror, though. This was instantly followed by tears. Salty little droplets that would do nothing to help her, but it was a reaction that humans had. Strong emotion of any kind could cause someone to cry, and with the fear and anger coursing through her, it was oh-so natural. Annabelle felt it, that primal instinct. The young girl truly hated that feeling. It was vulgar, crude, and most of all... imperfect. It was everything she despised rolled into one, and instead directed her thoughts to something else: finding out where the hell she had ended up.

Gathering herself, she began to truly notice her surroundings for the first time since she had awoken. She was in a field, and in the light darkness she could make out the shapes of houses in the distance. She got up, and looked herself over. Aside from the wrinkle in her clothing here and there, she looked fine. It was then that she noticed something lying in the grass beside her: her luggage; along with another large bag. Wiping her eyes with her sleeved arm, Annabelle wasted no time in picking the two bags up, placing the pack on her shoulders and her luggage in her hands before sprinting off toward what she hoped was shelter from the rest of the world, a place to gather her thoughts and find out just what the hell was going on.

She had reached the large area of buildings pretty quickly; just as the sun had decided to peek over the trees. Light meant activity, and that was bad. Hurriedly Annabelle walked in nervous anticipation towards one of the houses, one that looked like it was about middle-class material and held at least some good things. Right about then, she wanted a shower. It was a little bit stupid really, but it was the first thing that came to mind on the list of things to do once she found shelter. Cleanliness was a very big key to perfection, and the redhead found herself smiling slightly. Her lanky body was easily going to be seen in the early morning if she didn't hurry up and find a way inside. Instead of doing something stupid like punching open a window, she did the sanest thing she could think of, and went around front.

Standing on the porch of the small house, Annabelle carefully clasped her hand around the front door knob, turned it to the right, and pushed. It opened, and the redhead found herself feeling rather apprehensive about the fact that someone had just left their house's front door unlocked. It was eerie, but not eerie enough for the girl to quickly go in and close the door. All was silent except for the clicking of the lock above the handle of the door. Letting out a breath of relief, Annabelle was quick to search through the small house. It was a one-story, even lacking an attic. It was small, but it would do to house the girl. 'First thing's first,' she thought a little too cheerily, 'I need to get a shower.' Carrying her stuff with her, the ninth grader slipped into the newly found master bathroom. Placing her bags on the floor, she made damn sure to close and lock the door. Next she closed the blinds over the window looking outside, but not before firmly locking it.

This brought her to the next question. Should she turn on the light or not? Immediately she decided against it. It might draw unwanted attention from someone, even with the blinds closed. So in the dark, in some random person's home, mind you, Annabelle Buchannon began taking her clothes off. When she was down to her bra and panties, the redhead decided to go ahead and turn on the water. Slowly turning the knob in the bathroom's glass shower stall, Annabelle set it to a nice, warm temperature. Once the water had heated, the tall girl stepped into the enclosed space, and shucked her bra and panties over the top of the glass. She began her shower with grabbing some soap, left by the house's earlier residents, and lathering her body up and washing her cares away for a few brief minutes. It was about that time that Annabelle noted the collar. How she didn't feel it earlier she was clueless to, but the point was that she had a collar on. She didn't bother struggling with it, sure something bad would happen. It was just like a horror movie. With that, she continued her shower, even though the collar felt tight around her neck.

In about ten minutes, the heat of the water had died, and Annabelle had been forced to turn off the flow. It wasn't much of a shower, but it got the job done. She smelled of strawberries now; the shampoo she had used the source. Sighing, the girl pushed open the glass door and reached for one of the dark colored towels hanging on a rack about a foot away. Grasping the cloth in her hand, she began to dry off her naked body. In moments the redhead was completely free of moisture, save for her dripping hair being taken care of by the now wrapped up towel resting on her head. She found herself naked again, but she didn't really care. Walking slowly over the the door, she unlocked and opened it both carefully and quietly.

The door slowly flew open, its hinges forcing it to swing to the right and onto the wall. Grabbing her discarded bags, Annabelle calmly walked over to the bed and, placing them on the bed, got to finding something to wear. Her suitcase was a normal hunter green, a pretty color that looked great on her, but at the moment it looked weird against the pure white of the empty bed's spread. The redhead unzipped the bag quickly, and immediately pulled out a nice pink dress that she had brought along. It would certainly do, with its nice white lace and easy maneuverability. Grabbing a random bra and panties, she put them on before slipping the dress on. Her hair, still slightly wet, began to drip water onto the carpeted floor as it was let out of the towel, but she immediately put a stop to that, scolding herself as she toweled her hair once more.

The next thing that Annabelle felt was necessary was to begin unpacking her things and placing them in the drawers around the room. This didn't take long, however, and soon the girl simply had to face reality in the form of the day pack. With another deep sigh, the tall female opened up the bag and poured its contents onto the bed. It was a pretty big load of goodies, she could see. The first thing that caught her eye was the gun. It was obviously what she had been given as protection. She was happy to receive something so precious. It even came with an instruction manual to help. How sweet could they be? It was kind of like a housewarming to her. They had supplied her with some bread and water, which she would need if she took a bit of a vacation, but otherwise she would probably just grab something from the kitchen.

In truth, she hoped to be able to survive without anything confrontational happening. This, she knew, couldn't happen. It was inevitable that somehow she would be forced into an imperfection, and that was when she would remove the "blemish from her face" with the gun. Smiling, Annabelle bent over to pick up the flashlight. "This will be useful." she said to noone in particular before placing to the side. With the gun and manual. She saw some form of a manual, but the lanky female just tossed the book away with barely a glance. Her attention had been captured by the last remaining items on the bed. The compass, map, and first aid kit. All three would be extremely useful, and Annabelle found herself thinking again how thoughtful her kidnappers were being. Without another thought, she grabbed the bread and water and hurried out of the master bedroom and into the spotless kitchen. Opening up the refrigerator door, she placed the water on the empty bottom shelf. Closing it, she walked over and placed the bags of bread on the counter. It was quaint, the house and the girl began contemplating her new, normal life on the island by herself, and how this little house could potentially be her own haven of perfection.

Annabelle looked over the kitchen's window and at the sign hanging over the doorway. She again smiled, this time at the words carved into the dark wood. Moving around, the contented redhead began to prepare for an interesting day. It was just like the old saying carved into the sign's wood:

Home Sweet Home.

Riot guns. Riot guns are used for many things. They are used to suppress crowds when they get out of control. They are used to scare people to make them behave correctly. Riots guns were not made to hurt humans, if you did get shot it would probably hurt however it won't be fatal. Most people don't even care or know what a riot gun is unless you happen to be a police officer.

Today Gigi Sinclaire would learn how to use a riot gun, at least that's what it said in the small paperback booklet that game with the projectile weapon. The girl walked very shaken by this whole situation, even more so with this piece of metal in her hands. It was against everything her parents had taught her, which made her queasy. There were no guns or firearms in Flower Power. Nobody died while dancing or praising mother earth, it just wasn't sanitary. But Gigi knew that she needed to at least hold the accursed thing just incase she passes anybody looking for a fight.

Gigi wasn't much of a fighter; she was loose, serene, hip, and funky. She avoided fights and instead encouraged people to come join her in her strive for peace. This however was not the case anymore now that she's been tossed into Survival of the Fittest. Even one word of peace might make somebody blow her head off. She knew of the kind of people who went to Hobbsborough. Some might think she was threat or intimidating do to her odd style of clothing.

The girl wore a mini-dress that came down three inches above the knee. It was checkerboard style, white and black. Her hair was made into the same poofy style, and her eyes were protected from the morning sun with her large magenta bug-eye glasses. Anybody seeing a girl dressed in this sort of 60's attire holding gun would do more than just double take the sight.

She didn't let fighting her clothes interfere with the task at hand. This was to find shelter and hide in it. Avoid human contact, that's what she wanted. The residential distrect looked like that of a ghost town, nobody watering the lawns or tending to the flowers in the garden. Nobody fixed the loose tiles on the roofs, or wash their cars. Nobody was walking home from school, playing hopscotch on the sidewalk, or riding their bikes. Desolate. Cold. Unwelcoming. It was like the suburbs has turned into a version of Dawn of the Dead which made Gigi jitter in her black boots.

The dancing girl choose one house, that seemed a reasonable house to hide in. Approaching the house with caution, riot gun in hand Gigi approached it. After creeping to the front door she examined the brass doorknob and the 'Welcome' mat on the floor. Yea, well I don't feel so welcomed… The sarcastic thought tried to easier but there was no way of doing that. Slowly with a steady hand, Gigi reached out and swiftly knocked on the door.

In a flash Gigi leaped two feet back, riot gun in hand preparing herself for the boogie man to jump out of the house and scare her to bits. She would not let it! The girl put on a confident gesture. I can beat you Mister Boogie Man! Just wait and see…. Gigi felt like busting into a dance and waltz her way into the house with no problems at all but the music that was playing for her dance was that of twisted Psycho music. She could NOT dance to creepy Psycho music; it wasn't a rhythm she could fathom. However she will overcome and learn this scary dance if her name isn't Gigi Sinclaire

A round of dull knocks rang in Annabelle's ears, piercing the silence from her bedroom. She had long since decided to turn on the lights, but also made sure to cover all crevices that might alert people to her whereabouts inside the house. The redhead stopped what she had been doing, which happened to be reading the manual for her gun. Her Heckler and Kosch 53. It was a nice weapon, easily portable at its seven or so pounds when loaded. Its recoil was next to nothing, and its aim was superb. Annabelle had been blessed. The perfect way to protect herself and her home. She knew enough about the gun to at least load it, but didn't think she'd need it for the moment, Instead of simply running outside to welcome her guests, the lanky female looked out of her bedroom window, hoping to see who was at her door without actually opening it. Pulling the bland white blinds back, to her surprise she found that the loud knocks were not from her door, but the door across the street.

The house across from what she calls her home was a nice red color, not too dark and certainly not that annoyingly bright fire engine red that many houses seem to be. Its windows were long, somewhat bland with the white shutters. The front yard, although it wasn't really a yard, had a small garden, the flowers slightly overgrown, but not without their charm. She took this in quickly, however, before noting the presence of the female knocker standing two feet from the door. 'Is she selling Girl Scout Cookies? Oooooooh I totally want some!' the redhead thought, wondering chipperly whether the girl was selling sweets or preparing to slaughter someone with the unknown object in front of her.

The girl was wearing a rather cute mini-dress, just reaching above her knees. It was in that whole sixties checkerboard style, the colors white and black decorating it. Her hair was an auburn color, but the actual style was indistinguishable from her backward stance. It unnerved Annabelle that such a female would be in her neighborhood. Looking down at her dress and mary-janes, Annabelle smiled slightly. If the girl wanted to move in, then she would certainly have to be catered to about her style. To the redhead, the girl standing tensely in front of the door in the sun was just unfit for the style of a housewife.

She suddenly walked through her home, heading towards the door. It was still extremely quiet, just the way the girl liked it. Not bothering to take anything for protection, the girl simply went to her door and opened the door. "Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!! Are you looking to move in???" Annabelle rather shrieked at the auburn haired female on the other side of the street, but then prepared to run in case the girl freaked out with her unseen item that was probably not the cookies the girl hoped that it was.

Gigi almost leaped out of her skin when Anabelles voice stabbed her from all over. Turning around she held the riot gun in hand and shakily pointed it at Anabelle who only smiled and asked if she could move in. Oh no, I had to run into al unatic... she thought looking at her.

The red head looked very familiar to her. Was it someone she danced with before? Gigi wasn't sure, she analyzed Anabelle through her large purple bug-eyed glasses. "Oh, well uhhh yes. Yes, I would like to move in.." she said trying to distinguish that crazy face from the one of the real world.

The Dancing Girl never forgot a dancing hip. It was just all too familiar to her. Gigi lowered the riot gun as the memories started slowly appearing before her eyes. Wait........I know who she is.... thought Gigi, her mouth half open in awe. Well look who she ran into here?

"Anabelle!?" Anabelle, Gigi remembered how she tried to shake her hips way back when they practiced dance togeather at the Preforming Arts Center. They were young and were good friends at the time, however high school came. They went to different schools and so the relationship drifted apart.

It was amazing how Gigi found a familiar face admist the chaos of the island. her dropped jaws turned into a smile happy to see someone she knew. But something wasn't necessarily right, Anabelle had an senile type of quality to her. The way she greeted her didn't sound to healthy and sane. It kind of made Gigi hesitant accepting the girls offer.  Hmmm somethings definatly changed about her. It looks like she dosn't dance anymore....

"Anabelle, I can't beleive your here. This means all of Hobbsborough is here as well?" she asked. Gigi hoped that the red head would remember her, knowing someone made her much more calm. She didn't tremble as badly as she did when knocking on the door. That was a good thing, friendly faces made her calm down. If only she could hear somem usic that she can bust a move too. It would help her so very much in this stressful situation.

((...Annabelle's a ninth grader at Hobbsborough High.  She didn't attend Bathurst.  Just pointing it out.))

Surprise plastered rapidly onto Annabelle's clean and freckly face. Could it be? Someone from Hobbsborough already? Not just anyone either. It was that off girl that had danced with her many years ago: Gigi Sinclaire. The girl was a nut. This much was certain to the redhead, and immediately she thought about telling the girl to get out of the neighborhood. Unfortunately, that type of behavior was simply too unladylike for the lanky female, and instead she found herself listening to the smaller brunette's grating voice. It was enough to make Annabelle wince, but again she downed such a whim to keep her proper manners in place. Gigi wanted to move in, and now the redheaded homemaker thought twice about speaking to the girl at all. It's not like the 60's freak could really hurt her. Annabelle doubted that the girl could find the trigger on the unkown gun in her hands, much less actually fire it.

Pain was just a defect to beauty, and Annabelle was feeling quite a lot of it as she held the conversation with Gigi. The brunette was fine to talk to in the halls, just passing some time, but in the real world, her whole embodiement meant imperfection. That checkerboard dress had to go. Those horrific, ginormous sunglasses simply had to go. Finally, it became rather clear to Annabelle that it wasn't just the clothes. Gigi was imperfect. Disgusting. She was unbefitting to live in her neighborhood, but at the moment she would leave the heathen alone. Her thoughts were jumbling, and another being seemed to find itself inside of her subconcious mind. Not that she realized this, though. Annabelle wanted Gigi gone, but how would she make this happen? The obvious choice was to just tell her to get the heck out. That would be so rude, though.

The redhead was caught between two excruciatingly potent needs. Both of them were in the name of pristine perfection. Rudeness and queer style had no business in the home or on the person. Image really was everything in truth. So, the girl simply did what she thought best for the moment: talked. She talked to Gigi with that lovely fake smile brightening her face, but it didn't reach her solemnly staring blue eyes. The conversation led to Hobbsborough's students, and at the inquiry as to the school's students' whereabouts, Annabelle gave a shrug before opening her mouth to speak again.

"I'm really not sure. Probably, though. I mean, if you're here, and I'm here, then it's only natural that the others would be here. Why would those at Survival of the Fittest just take a couple of us? That's pretty pointless to me." she responded, happy with how she had chosen her words. Thinking back to the girl in front of her, Annabelle remembered the times when the girls got along a long time ago.

"Five. Six. Five, Six, Seven, Eight!" their ballet instructor bellowed, the older woman rapidly dancing, going from an arabesque to a chassé turning into another arabesque before going to a brisé ending with a pirouette that stopped in fifth position. A six year-old Annabelle watched in awe as her teacher worked, each movement a color painting a portrait. The dance demonstrated changing from position to position in quick, timed steps. It was a little more contemporary than most ballet, but the little girls preparing to learn the miniscule routine enjoyed the difference. On the other side of the small room, near the beams and one of the mirrored walls, stood one Gigi Sinclaire, the little brunette concentrating entirely on the movements of the woman performing in front of her. In vain, all the girls save for one attempted to copy the whole routine. One, though, stood out in quite a bit of aptitude. The aestheticity that the little female possessed caused quite a bit of jealous glares to unconciously find their way to the girl smiling brightly in accomplishment.

Not noticing the looks she was receiving, the young Gigi prepared to repeat the movements. Annabelle, staring across the room at the brunette, took the girl's perfection in; unnerved. It was defying the laws that the redhead dancer had grown by that Gigi was better than her. It made her mad. In vain, Annabelle attempted the dance again, only to obtain the same sad result: failure. Then, she cried. She showed weakness.

Annabelle wouldn't show weakness to her again. She was the perfect one now, so just let Gigi attempt to bring her down. With that, Annabelle invited the girl into her home for a bit of ____(late?, early?) breakfast.

Gigi smiled "Oh thank you so much!" she giggled and entered the house, Anabelle closing the door behind her. Now in the face of her friend Gigi acted much less paranoid and nervous. Of course she still cautioned herself, liek she thought when the redhead first opened the door she had a bit of crazy on her face. And not in a good way. The house was cozy and nice, polished, table, cleaned up counter, no dirty dished......Anabelle never seemed to be the stepford kind but to each her own she guessed.

"So have you ran into anybody so far? Besides me of course." she said walking into the living room and sitting down on a lounge chair. Very very cozy, she felt liek she was at grandmas house or something. It was definatly a style that Gigi could get accostomed to.....But it could use some minor adjustments.

Studying the ceiling and the furnitutre around her she thought that a hot pink shagged carpet for the living room might add some personality. Maybe hang from flowers chains off the ceiling to give a peaceful vibe to those who entered. Of course, a bean bag chair would be just as comfortable, but this chair can be decorated to her liking. CHeckerboard style maybe? No! The curtains! They definatly need to be checkered. Orange and cyan blue checkers?

Possibilities entered Gigi Sinclaires mind as she surveyed the house, everytime she walked into somebody elses home she imagined it transformed into her own creative style. She wnats to see what the hosue would look like when decorated by a Sinclaire like herself. "Your house is just sooo hip!" she said.

"I love the lounge chair, super funky." she said with a giggle, leaning back to get the full effect of the soft velvty fabric. Maybe this lounge chair didn't needed to be changed after all. Gigi yawned and picked up her feet, laying her boots with her foot in them still on the coffee table. "What a totally rad pad, shame that this might become a danger zone sometime in the next three days." she said.

Gigi tryed not give too much thought on the game and its certain factors. Who knows? She might have only a day or two to live before she gets shot or blown up. Goosbumps formed on her skin thinking about, but she just continued to compliment Anabelles house to get her mind off the matter. "The lamps look sooo sheek!"

Annabelle's House

How dare she use such horribly vulgar words to describe her perfect home?! Funky? Hip? Those words were trashy things that girls like Gigi Sinclaire would use constantly to talk about something that reminded them of their silly happiness and odd style. The hairdon'ts and stupid designs were enought to make Annabelle vomit. The redhead was obviously growing rather tired of the little things that the brunette bimbo sitting on her couch was doing. Those huge, hideous magenta glasses were just begging to be broken; snapped in two with just a twitch of her well-manicured fingers. Just the thought of making over the girl in front of her brought waves of pleasure spilling from Annabelle. Her next thought was to have a sort of housewarming for Gigi. Maybe she could get the girl to change a bit. That way, she could move in as a perfect neighbor. Image is everything.

"Oh... Well, thank you! That's just so nice of you to say. I spent the last few hours changing things around." the lanky female said, smile still in place. She was fighting the urge to growl, but she had long since been trained to keep smiling. A thought occured to Annabelle. These students would try to wreck her home, and that was just unacceptable! She would not have anyone messing things up! So, she would chance it. Gigi would be allowed to stay, at least for the moment. Annabelle would be keeping an eye on the brunette, though. 'First things first.' she thought with glee, turning once more to face down into the checkerboard chick's happy face. "I have an idea!!!" she squealed, slightly mocking the female sitting on the couch, "Why don't you get a shower here. I'll get you some clothes to wear, and then we can go and get you settled in one of the houses. I'll fix us some cookies too. The house has some ingredients left over. There's even good milk. If you don't mind, though, please use the guest bathroom. It's the second door on the right down the hallway. My bathroom needs to be picked up."

If things went according to plan, then Annabelle would have a fresh new face next door following the rules that the young woman had always lived by. Her mother would be proud. She would watch her daughter on TV and both cry and laugh. The woman would cry to see Annabelle in the situation, but proudly smile at how wonderfully good she was being. The redhead found the corners of her mouth no longer needing her help to raise up, forming a brilliant smile of happiness that she was pleasing her mother. In reality, her mother was watching in horrified amazement. The girl that she had watched grow into such a replica of herself now had gone completely insane. It was illogical that such a change should occur within the small amount of time that her daughter had been on the island. Unfortunately, though, the redhead couldn't see her mother's expression. In fact, she barely could see anything due to the powerful daydream in her mind's eye. With that disturbingly happy smile still adorning her freckled face, Annabelle patiently waited for a response from Gigi.

Cold. Hard. Blunt. Those words had been used to describe Laura Diesen before, but at the moment she was using them to try to figure out what she was waking up on top of, without the annoying effort of opening her eyes. She remembered falling asleep…somewhere. Had she been taking those pills again? No, that couldn't be it, she hadn't gone back yet to that rip-off for more of the stuff after running out a few days ago. She was really regretting that now. It was only a day early, she could justify that, at least. Just as soon as this awkward position she was laying in stopped being so uncomfortable, she'd go into town and find that bastard.

It was then she decided to finally decided to open her eyes, and stare straight into the sun.
"Holy Jesus, mother of fuck. Can't that thing ever be dim or something?" She threw an arm over her eyes as she sat up and looked around again, this time at happy little houses with happy little flower gardens along a happy little street, even if it did need a pavement job sometime soon. What happened? Where am I?

You're here to kill. That voice…it was right. Duana, Dolph, that idiot girl who'd been staring at the corpses, the bus drivers, they'd all been killed by those men in black, or else that shrimp of a woman with a big gun. She couldn't have done that without some shotgun.

You're here to be killed. That was something that hadn't really occurred yet to the girl still sitting on the ground on the side of the road. Frantically she looked around her to see if anyone was nearby. She winced in pain. The burns she'd gotten at Marimar's house on her neck normally kept her from turning her head too much too quickly. She'd momentarily forgotten though. It appeared that no one was around, but she had gained a bag. G08 – Diesen. Oh, these bastards have had this planned. That is so not cool.

Nearly afraid to open that bag, she grabbed instead the bag that was eerily the same color, but shaped differently. It also wasn't quite so personalized. She still had her clothes, toiletries, and snacks. Her book, though, it was still there, but it had been moved right to the top of the pile. Lord of the Flies. It didn't quite close properly though. Laura flipped through the pages and found nothing, until the end. The several pages had been ripped out. It now ended, mid-sentence, with one of the boys hiding in fear and knowing that the others would kill him given the chance.
"Damn pricks. It doesn't end that way!" She wasn't really yelling at anyone in general, but she was furious at the implication. "The story doesn't end that way!"

Then prove them wrong, if they've mistaken the ending. Kill...hiding will only prove them right. Kill them. Kill those who tried to change your ending. Now irate, Laura was prepared to listen, for once, to the incessant voice. Normally its ideas ended badly, but this time...this time it made more sense than anything in the world. The girl shouldered the as of yet unopened bag and picked up her nearly matching other one.

She walked up the road a bit, looking for a relatively inviting house to invade. Of course, the sheer emptiness of the place negated any welcoming feeling this island might have once had. Quite suddenly, she realized that Lee-Ann and Marimar would be somewhere on this island. Should she have been worried for them? Did it even matter at this point? They were all dead already, anyway. Marimar probably…well, actually Laura didn't know what she'd probably be doing, decorating some place blue or something. Lee-Ann was probably sitting around somewhere crying. And...that cat. Lee-Ann had brought it with her on the camping trip gone wrong. Had the terrorists killed the kitten, or left it to be another component of the game? Laura wondered that it had a much higher chance of survival than anyone else on this island. Even if a human protector was no longer available to him, he was a cat.

Shifting the bag's handle in her grip for the umpteenth time, Laura decided that the nearest house was going to work well enough, as long as she could put the badly made bag down. The other one was wreaking havoc on her still burnt shoulder too.

Walking up the short walkway to the door, Laura tried the knob and, surprisingly enough, it opened without a hitch. She stepped in and dropped both bags onto the floor.

Shit. Shit. Shit! That was definitely a grossly pink dress. And it was definitely a person wearing said dress. And that meant that Laura had basically just walked in on an already occupied area. And that meant that she was going to have to think, and fast.

That, however, wasn't going to happen.

"Um, hi."

Gigi Sinclaire tilted her head at Anabelle at her suggestion, right when she left the front room she grimaced the first chance she got. The girl knew that her former dancer friend had completley jumped off her rocker. She just wasnt' the same as before, she was way more twisted and tightly wound like before. Gigi had a perfect solution for this kind of problem, she didn't like how tight people act and so she tries to loosen them up with a dance. However currently it wasn't the time to dance.

The girl sat on the couch pondering on weather she should take her invitation to the shower and to fresh cookies. The worst possible case scnerio entered her head thinking what would happen if Gigi tried to leave. Annabelle would probably go beserk and force her to sit in a chair and eat cookies that are probably stale. Shuddering at the fact Gigi tried to stay cool and collected.

It wasn't the time to become paranoid again. She was now in a confined space with stepford daughter Annabelle. However she might be promoted to stepford wife if she continues to pull off out of style fashions like her pink dress. Gigi remembered when watching the boradway production of Hairspray. It was an exciting day, it was her 13th birthday and it was a present from her parents. They'd knew she like it because their whole style is based on the 60's. And oh what a play it was, dancing, singing, big hair, and drag queens made it the perfect play.

Annabelle reminded her of a one Amber Von Tussel. She wore pink dresses and colors like Anabelle did, as well as her mother Velma. They acted in a stepford quality however they weren't completley bonkers like Annabelle was. It seemed to her that she was the crazy stepford daughter they put away. Theis a line to cross when it comes to acting as well as dressing like that,

Back in reality Gigi  wondered who was at the door. Was it another student? Maybe this one will shoot Annabelle and storm the house? The girl didn't really know but she leaned from her seat to see if she can see the person Annabelle was greeting. Oh please, let it be someone whose sane!!  Gigi pleaded in her mind for someone else who hasn't lost it yet to join her in this situation she was put in by the pink Annabelle.

Stupid. Had she been in possession of even an ounce of intelligence, Laura would have just backed out of the door as quietly as possible and hurried to some other, hopefully unoccupied housing arrangement. Of course, the girl had done the exact opposite and blatantly announced her presence to this girl in the pink dress. Who the hell wears a pink dress like that, anyway?

This girl, she couldn't possibly be a threat, right? Anyone wearing a lacy dress in a competition like this one, they had to be off their rocker. But did that mean she was harmlessly insane? Or was it a ploy, throw off anyone into the assumption that she was insane?

Kill her. Remove her as even a possibility of a threat. It was a possibility. But Laura had not even checked to see what she had. She knew what was in her own bag, but what could she possibly do with a comb, scratch this person to death? Bluff. Yeah, that might work.

"I…I've got a gun! A big one!"

Laura began to panic slightly, what did she have, anyway? Knowing her luck, it would be something stupid, like a hypodermic needle or something else completely useless. Only then did the girl notice a third person in the house. What the hell was this place, a costume party? One girl looking like she came straight from the fifties, and another from a go-go bar.

Well now you're just fucked, aren't you. On second thought, maybe she should still try to back away slowly. Don't provoke the nutcases. Don't give them a reason to be nutcases. Maybe there was a perfectly valid reason to be in such outfits. Maybe there was a point to that "don't judge a book by its cover" bull. But why wait to find out?

"Ya know, maybe it'd be best if I just left, ok? Sound good to you guys?"

Gigi decided to get up from the couh and cautiously go to the front door where a Miss Laura Diesen awaited her. She looked a little freaked out by Anabelles prescence. She's probably one of those girls who detest the color pink, Gigi dosn't own any item of clotheing that is pink. It just wasn't her color; The girl approched the front door and greeted Laura with a sane smile.

She was behind Anabelle when she did this, lowering her bug eyed glasses she gave her a kind of stern look to her and than to Anabelle which was meant to say "she's totally off her rocker." However Gigi didn't think she could stay in the accompany of the dmineering Anabelle any longer. She needed someone else to share this stepford prison with her.

"We musn't keep our guest waiting." she said showing Laura inside and closing the door behind her. "Welcome, I'm Gigi Sinclaire." The only sane one in the house.. Laura looked scared out of her mind, she hoped that she would get comfortable now that she was in the prescence of someone who hasn't lost her mind. But this smooth introduction didn't last as it turned akward. Gigi didn't know what else to say. How about lets get the hell out of here?

Although Gigi apprently wasn't in any danger she still felt a flock of nervous butterflies flutter in her stomach. "Uh.....This is Anabelle." she said making a motion with one of her hands toward her. Gigi didn't know what else to say, she was to afraid that something she might say would trigger a psychotic breakdown in Anabelle. If she had any problems to begin with, or was this just the way she was? Gigi didn't care to piece togeather the mystery of Anabelles mind, she already had enough stress on hers.

((WARNING! Mild[IMO] Sexual Content))
-Don't like? Don't read.-

Annabelle moved from her position at the island to glance at the now open door. Some odd blonde had obviously thought the house would be empty or something. The girl was wearing much more pleasant attire than Gigi, but still could use some work. She looked rather shocked to find people in the house, and the redhead couldn't blame the poor girl. She would forgive her rudeness for the time being. Gigi had naturally overstepped her boundaries and invited the girl in without even consulting Annabelle. 'That insolent wench.' she thought angrily, 'How dare she allow someone in without my permission! This is MY house; not hers!' Alas, then she had heard the loud proclamation from the blonde that she weilded a gun. A large one. Was she bluffing from fear? That was possible, but at the same time, Annabelle couldn't afford to take the chance. Moving quickly forward, the lanky female looked at the girl standing in the foyer with her signature smile nearly breaking her jaw in two. This girl was rather average compared to the other two in the room. Her blonde locks were obviously dyed, but suited her well enough. Her appearance was put together decently, with nothing really amiss, but something wasn't quite up to par. Annabelle was given an introduction, which was also rather rude to the redhead, but she didn't really think much of it. Brushing a stray curl from her pale face, the tallest girl in the room greeted her newest guest.

"Hello. Yes, as Gigi said, I'm Annabelle; and you are?" she inquired, wondering idly if she had another interesting name. A sudden thought entered her mind as the blonde began to answer. 'I know! While the cookies are baking I can let the two of them chat. I'll go ahead and get ready. Tea and cookies! How fun! Ooh! I need to shower!' The girl had completely lost her train of thought as the ideas popped into her head, and as such, had missed the blonde girl tell her name. Well, she would just name her herself. Hm.... maybe Goldilocks? Fille? Annabelle wasn't the greatest at coming up with names. You could ask her pets Fluffy and Spot. She decided on the former just for humorous reasons, and immediately set about to telling the two just what she was going to do. "Well, I'm going to shower while the cookies are baking. There's tea boiling on the stove, so could you mind that Gigi? As for you..." she directed at Goldilocks, "You're welcome to stay if you'd like. You two can chat for the time being, and when I get back, we can have have tea and cookies. Seeing as it's already night, I know that's a bit weird, but I'm limited to my food selection until I go grocery shopping. Oh! I forgot to mention... The tap water is disgusting. I don't suggest drinking it unless you have to. Trust me, I know." At the end of her rant-like talking, Annabelle giggled slightly, remembering her encounter with the water early in the morning. Turning on her heel and without waiting for a reply, she sent a "Toodles." to the two girls before heading towards her bedroom.

Annabelle reached her bedroom at the end of the hall quickly using the door from the living room. Turning on the lights, she admired the work she had put into making it look perfect. From the centered placing of her bed to the newly ironed curtains, everything screamed immaculate. It made her heart warm just thinking about it. Slipping inside, the redhead closed the door to her bedroom and locked it. She didn't trust strangers much. The pink dress that she was wearing happened to be just wonderful on her, but she would have to pick something else out once she took her shower. She knew just which one, too. She had brought along quite a few dresses, including a new yellow one. It was very fifties, but it suited her body type and style. Stopping in the middle of her room, Annabelle set about to removing her clothes. It was rare that she found herself just idly stripping, but she was finding it very arousing being in her room. Everything was in such wonderful order. It was an aphrodisiac to the clueless girl. She found herself lightly caressing herself instinctively as she let her clothes drift off of her skin and to the floor. The pink and white-laced dress fled to the ground and slowly, pale white flesh stepped from it. Moving over, Annabelle noticed her bed too. With its perfectly aligned pillows and matching spread, it was just the place for this. Lying on the bed, she slowly began to trail her manicured fingers down the length of her body, shivering with uncontrollable desire. Stopping at her panties, which she had not yet removed, the redhead slipped her hand under the white fabric ever more slowly. Annabelle looked around the room in lust that she couldn't quite explain. The sight of clear shelves and perfectly aligned books was making her so very aroused. She had never done this before, but all of the perfect sights just made her feel so good. Her index finger had long since dipped in, and it was making her flush with pleasant heat. Her eyes rolled back slightly as she began to pull out and push in that finger, causing slight convulsions from the newfound pleasure. It was when she moaned out loud that the lanky girl snapped from her lusty haven and came back to reality.

Removing her hand faster than humanly possible, the girl looked at it with a crazed expression on her face. 'Oh God. What was I doing just then? That's just disgusting! How could I have done that? I'm filthy! What if someone saw me doing that?' her mind was filled with hundreds of questions, and immediately, she set to making herself feel ultimately guilty. How could she have been doing that? She was disgusting for even having any such thoughts! She would never let that happen again. Ever. With another look at the cause of her momentary lapse of lust, she opened the door to the bathroom and immediately went to the shower. Annabelle would wash herself of the impurities; the filth. Never again. She would forget all about this. It never happened. No one had to know. After all, one really was only as good as his or her image. If someone knew about this, they would have to die. With that in mind, Annabelle began her shower with setting about washing her disgusting hand.

This place was just really weird. Laura suddenly got a song stuck in her head, that annoying tango/mambo/whatever-the-hell-it-was by Gloria Estefan. "Go Away" or something. She couldn't remember a single word from the thing, but it was sufficiently crazy for the situation. It was a televised game, wasn't it? Why the hell shouldn't she get a soundtrack in her head, especially around these two?

Go-go girl introduced herself as if she thought she were normal as Gigi. Go-go Gigi. Just, fucking figures. Well, at least she too was convinced that this pink chick, whose name, apparently enough, was Annabelle. What was going on here? Even the names fit.
"Laura" Laura wasn't really looking at any one thing for too long, but she was pretty sure, at least, that she had stopped her wild gaze a moment to look at this Gigi as she responded.

It was no reassurance when Annabelle stepped into the mini conversation and acted as if Gigi were the insane one. She mentioned cookies and a shower, and bad tap water. To be honest, Laura wasn't paying much attention, but she got the idea nonetheless that she shouldn't try to run just yet.

After taking Annabelle's suggestions, or rather orders and taking a seat on the couch, Laura decided to finally see what was in that other bag. Useless. All of it was completely useless. She was in a house for pity's sake; she didn't need the stale food. Although perhaps the water was good, if the tap were as gross as Annabelle had suggested.

A Blaring symphony announced the coming of dawn. Had she really been here all night?
Time flies when you're stuck in a nuthouse, Laura. She tried to not pay attention to the announcement, she didn't want to know how many people were killing. It didn't matter how many were dead, she just didn't want to know who had done the killing. If she didn't know, she wouldn't ignore everyone else.

Trying as hard as possible to actively ignore the announcement, Laura made a point to keep poking through the bag. What the hell? They had forgotten to even give her a weapon. She'd known better than to expect something useful, but nothing? At all? She flew through the thing almost frantically then, and soon enough her hand touched something soft, but hard at the same time. She pulled it out, a rabbit's foot.

Mm, Aren't we feeling lucky?
"Shut the fuck up."
Maybe you can scratch someone to death with it!
Laura just ignored the voice.
Or just hold it up in front of you as you're cowering in the face of the enemy."
I said shut the fuck up!"

Only then did Laura remember that Gigi was there too. "oh, sorry, I wasn't talking to you."

"Nice to meet you.." Silence filled the air the rest of the night. Gigi sat on the couch and just sat there waiting for Anabelle to break the ice once more. The quiet almost made herself go crazy, she wanted to dance and litsen to music. Something that Anabelle would never allow but still, it was something that wad dire to her mental health. Nothing was heard except for the clock ticking and tocking, counting the minutes till their dooms.

As the minutes transformed into hours Gigi felt like putting the riot gun in her mouth and shooting herself. Anything would be better than this unerving silence. But as the time passed she slowly drifted into dreamland. That night Gigi had a dream, a dream which made up for the boring night she had by sitting on Anabelles couch and doing nothing.

"Come on everybody!" Colorful lights flashed everywhere; Red, blue, yellow, green, purple, and many others. The dance floor was covered in fog, giving its dancers a muffled look. The gogo girl stood upon a platform in the center of the club with a pole stationed in its middle. Gigi danced around it, using the pole to launched her hips and arms. Music of the 60s, 70s, and 80s blasted all around the place. Everyone she knew was there, dancing their heads off.

Can't seem to get my mind off of you!
Back here at home there's nothin' to do!
Now that I'm away...
I wish I'd stayed...
Tomorrow's a day of mine, that you won't be in

They were playing one of Gigis major faves ; The Go-Gos were a band that the girl always litsened to, mostly when she traveled. In an airplane, car, or ship Gigi would sing and dance to many of their well written and hip songs they composed. Her favorite song of them all from them was their single titled 'Vacation'. She sang it everytime she would go on vacation, singing it made the whole trip official to the Sinclaire family.

When you looked at me I should've run!
But I thought it was just for fun!
I see I was wrong...
And I'm not so strong...
I should've known all along.....
that time would tell

One time Gigis parents took her to New York for Christmas one year when she was little. They had just walked out of the theater after a watching the Broadway musical 'Grease'. The little girl was dancing and singing to 'Hopelessly Devoted To You', 'Sandra Dee', 'Beauty School Drop Out', and 'Summer Nights' on their way to Central Park. The park itself was beautiful, snow covered the lush grass as well as the healthy trees.

A week without you....
Thought I'd forget....
Two weeks without you and I....
Still haven't gotten over you yet.........

But the most spectacular thing about Central Park was the large tree that was stationed at the center of it. Gigi walked upto it and stared up at the bright star at the very top as well as the glittering ornaments that hung on its thick branches. Snow started to fall upon the spectaters who watched along with Gigi. After a couple minutes of stareing at the giant tree the snowflakes started to fall upon her. With a sudden break of concentration Gigi burst into dance and song.

Vacation!
All I ever wanted!
Vacation!
Had to get away!
Vacation!
Meant to be spent alone!

Gigi started dancing all around the tree, singing the song which commemorated the moment. Its what made the moment special, people who were gazing at the tree suddenly looked at little Gigi dance and laughed at the pathetic sight. However the girl couldn't hear the laughs and jeers, she just heard the music as she continued circling around the tree. Her parents watched pleasantly as she enjoyed her self on her vacation....

Gigi woke up at the sound of an announcment being heard on the speakers stationed on the island. Rubbing her eyes she grabbed the riot gun that fell out of her hands when she slept. The Dancing Queen couldn't beleive she was alive, she actually survived a night at Anabelles house. Shaking her head she litsened to the number of deaths being announced, noone she knew at least. Good.....No danger zones here.. She thought as she noticed Laura who was also awake and litsening to the announcments.

After they finished laura started to talk to herself, she didn't know why but this made the gogo girl nervous. Oh no! I'm in a house filled with loons! she thought as she started to look at her with a puzzled and weird expression.  Sure Gigi dressed weird but she wasn't an complete weirdo. At last when she thought she was actually in the prescence of a sane persone. Gigi felt like she has been tossed into Alice in Wonderland. The only type of people she has run into so far and will only run into in the future will be  mad.

"Uhhh...Thats okay. Good morning...." Gigi tryed to break the ice with a pleasent greeting. "How was your sleep last night?" she asked tilting her head, hoping to get a logical response out of her. Hopefully today they'll finally be able to eat and drink those damn cookies and milk.