I'll Get Mine

[ItzToxie]

(( Marcus Volker fled from That Farce of a standoff at that fucking Aviary. ))

Marco ran until his lungs strained. His gums hurt and he could taste nothing but iron as he felt the blood pump through his body. He turned towards a tree and took cover behind it, panting. He laughed. He laughed because this whole thing was fucking stupid. That was twice, no thrice he'd had his means of defense taken from him. That's just embarrassing.

Humiliating.

Degrading.

First time was because that bitch Arjen didn't want to tell him there were people right behind him ready to taser him. He could give Catherine and Adonis a break for taking his shiv, they helped him out, and at the time he was mentally fucked to shit. That third time though. No flares, and that yokel fuck with babydick-big-gun-syndrome thought he was hot shit still took his *admittedly empty* flare gun. Little shit couldn't even hurt him with the rifle really, Marco did a better job of hurting himself than that prick, and he got interest too! He saw that flash of red when he hit him with the orange piece of junk. He got Carl pretty good. That was nice.

What wasn't nice was the fact Marco heard some gunfire once he left. He ran faster thinking he was chased at the time, but now thinking back on it. He wasn't. He didn't hear the whizz of shots passing by, just the sounds of bullets being fired. That fucking Jellyfish shot someone else over him, he was sure of it. Alright sure, the little red devil wasn't a saint, but he had targets. His violence wasn't going to be against random people, and all the shit he was doing to Carl was just fucking with him. He reminded him of Arjen and he wanted to vent, alright?

Even if there was a flare, he'd have just shot at the ground and ran off all the same.

But no, he yote a flaregun into Carl's head and what does that hillbilly fuck do? Shoot someone else. Even Marco wasn't that petty. Even Marcus Volker was disgusted by that. Marco reached his hands up to brush them through his hair but felt the bandage snag on one of his fingers. He felt the sting as it rubbed against his eye. He yelped in pain and anger and scrambled his fingers along the back of his head, reaching for the bandages. He untied them and tried to yank the bandages off his head. His glasses fell from his head as the bandage moved underneath it and they clattered to the ground. He pulled and pulled, and felt pressure as the bandages stuck around ground zero.

He let go and clenched his fists and leaned over as the bandages dangled from his eye injury. From his eye itself. He must've opened his eye unconsciously at some point. The bandages were now more than a hindrance than help. They hurt, and he wanted them off. The rain wouldn't help, he needed new bandages for this to heal properly. He didn't have new bandages so that wasn't happening. He needed to remove the old bandages so he didn't get a fucking disease, but now the old bandages were stuck to him. He wanted them off. He needed them off.

He brought his hands up again, slowly moving them along his face until he could get as close to the wound between the bandage as possible. He reached up and peeled slowly and... felt nothing as they peeled off. That... Didn't hurt like he thought it would have. Marco looked down at the bandage. In the center where it covered his eye, it was dark. He couldn't tell what it was, he just knew it was a dark spot. He'd only just then realized his eye was still open. He looked up towards the sun, expecting white hot pain, but nothing. He closed his left eye, and it was all black except for the part where he could see sun through his eyelid. His right eye stayed open and saw nothing.

He looked away and opened his left eye again. He looked around, and opened and closed his right eye. No change. No blur, no light, nothing. That eye was as good as gone now. It didn't hurt, and he couldn't see out of it anymore. He rubbed the right side of his head. Besides the burn and bruising, it was numb. Not even like no pain numb, but leg falling asleep TV static numb.

Yeah, he expected this, from the way Adonis and Catherine looked at him. Sure his eye hurt and the dark red blurs were something, but they were something. Now it's nothing. He had lost the complete use of his right eye because of those fucks with the taser. He picked his glasses back up. The right lens was cracked. He wondered if that happened when he got tazed or when he dropped them a second ago. It didn't matter really. It was cracked on the side he couldn't see out of anyways.

He put them back on. He was tired of this place. He was tired of being fucked with, and he was tired of everything going wrong. Something has to change. It has to. He slid down the tree and fell unconscious.


…

The announcements had played while Volker traversed the woods. He heard that the winner of the best kill gets food. Real food. Going on a day and a half with minimal food, Marco was feeling jealous. He wished he could get some actual real food. Hell he'd even take the stale bread and protein bars. He just wanted something. He still had the water Adonis gave him though, so that was nice at least. He took a sip as he wandered through the woods. He capped it.

He had no chance though. No weapons, and literally everyone was out to get him. He just wandered through the rain in a daze, daydreaming. He wished he had his rifle back. He wished he had his stuff back and all his clean clothes in his bag those bitches stole. He wished he left Arjen behind and told him to figure it the fuck out. He wished he knew Kelly was gonna fuck with someone's food to kill them that cowardly fuck.

Shit he may as well add her to the kill list too. He tries to find her and give her shit back and she goes and puts a razor blade in someone's protein bar or something. It's like, literally everyone he's come across was a piece of shit or a coward or both. He didn't know why shit was so fucked for him.

Truth was, he wished he had an actual chance at sur-

Marco tripped on something.

"What the fu-" Marco turned to look at what caught his foot.

There's no way.

You're fucking with me right? He reached out and picked the object up.

It probably doesn't work. Nobody would leave THIS lying around. Marco fumbled with it.

He tugged at the rip co-

It groaned to life as his finger squeezed on the trigger.

*VRRRRRRR VRRRR VRRR VRRRRRRRRRR*

Marco smiled. He drug it towards a nearby tree, and sent wood shards everywhere.

"Omigawd."

He looked at the camera, then back at his new toy. He thumbed the choke and turned it off. The scent of cut wood and gasoline filled the air. It was a beautiful scent. It was mostly the gasoline fumes but it was still a good scent. Ten atta ten, would huff if he didn't need it to ruin someone's day.

"Alright. Enough bullshit." Marco grinned as he continued along the trail. He had a good feeling about this one. This was a good omen. Today was going to be sooo much better than the previous two! He just felt it!

It was also going to be a lot more...

Productive.

((Marcus Volker continued Elsewhere.))