Survival Of The Fittest

Slowly, Lyndi's eyes began to open and she began to come to. Everything was still so hazy, she could barely see anything around her. The effects of the gas had yet to wear off completely, and this caused her to be very disoriented. Unable to do anything, Lyndi lie sleepily on the green grass near a large structure... the gazebo. After several moments of incessant blinking, Lyndi's vision finally became clear.

She had just recently been dropped on the island, and she was still very unsure of what was going on. A repugnant smell drifted into Lyndi's nostrils. It was a nauseating and dirty smell... rotten, even. That was when she saw it.

Lyndi still lie on the ground with her head turned sideways, and this gave her a view of the crawl space underneath the gazebo. Much to her terror, Lyndi had discovered the cause of the foul odor that plagued the area. A corpse lie underneath the gazebo, in the crawl space. It had obviously been there for several days, as it was slowly starting to deteriorate.

Worse yet, the corpse was that of a fellow Barry Coleson High student, one, Dahlia Riviera. Lyndi's eyes opened wide in terror and she let out a blood-curdling scream. Before she knew what she was doing, Lyndi had propped herself up on her hands and made a backwards dash away from the gazebo.

The slowly rotting and partially bug-eaten face of Dahlia Riviera stared out from under the gazebo, appearing to stare right at Lyndi. The poor girl stared at the corpse, mortified. Being the fortunate child that she was, Lyndi had never really experienced much death, let alone seen a mangled and distorted corpse up close.

Forcing herself to her feet, she tried to run, but to no avail. In her hurry, she tripped and fell face-first in the dirt. She had successfully moved out of view of the corpse, but even so, her current predicament did little to help Lyndi's situation. Eyeing the area near her, she found the culprit that caused her accident: a green dufflebag with her name written on it. Lyndi eyed it suspiciously, not bothering to pull it to her.

She had been briefed about the purpose of this game and what happened on the island, but it was something Lyndi did not want to believe. Unfortunately for the poor young woman, she had been clued in as to the reality behind this game all too quickly. Pulling her knees up to her, which were now skinned from falling on the ground, she began sobbing hysterically.

It was obvious that Dahlia's murderer had long since moved on, and even though they had killed the girl underneath the gazebo, there was no guarantee that Lyndi would be their next victim. At this point, she cared little anyway. She continued to sob hysterically, mentally cursing this game, Mr. Danya, and the kids on this island who were actually cold and callous enough to play this wretched "game".

(OOC: Sorry about the double-post. Haven't done anything here for almost a week, figured it was time to move on.)

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After what seemed like hours, Lyndi managed to somewhat stifle her wailing. She felt ill. After several minutes of nearly hyperventilating, Lyndi forced herself back onto her feet. She brushed off her grass and dirt covered knees and shorts, then absent-mindedly slung her duffle bag over her shoulder.

Sitting there by the gazebo, staring at the mutilated body of Dahlia Riviera was not doing any good for Lyndi's sanity. She needed to leave this place, and quickly. Even though she was almost too frightened to move, Lyndi knew staying in one place crying hysterically would do nothing except ensure that she would wind up just like Dahlia.

Already, she had come to the unnerving realization that this game was most definitely being played, and although she had just recently arrived on the island, if she planned on living, caution and stealth were going to be her best friends from now on. These traits were not something Lyndi'd had previous experience with, to say the least. After all, she was a cheerleader back at Barry Coleson, and quite frankly, they were "bred" to be the polar opposite of that.

Somehow, Lyndi was not all that concerned about being cautious and stealthy. No. What concerned Lyndi the most was a fact that had been daunting her since she had awoken from her drug-induced slumber... the fact that right now, she was completely and utterly alone. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, absent-mindedly picking at a stray string on her pale pink hoodie. Lyndi was not used to being alone.

Back at Barry Coleson, people had always been around. They were not necessarily her friends, whom she was very selective of, but she always had "followers", so to speak, and people who hung out with her because they wanted to look "cool". She was used to someone always being around, and right now, the first person she encountered would probably not hesitate to splatter her insides against the ground.

Huffing lightly, Lyndi dropped one arm to her side, clinging tightly to her duffle bag. With her free hand, she brushed a few random tufts of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail away from her face. She had to get out of here. Lyndi took off walking, trying to be quiet as she went. She had no idea where she was going, but her first priority was to get as far away from the gruesome remains underneath the gazebo as she possibly could.

(Continued on the Dirt Path.)