Violence Fetish

[Bloody_Fists*]

((Continued from: Enter the Hero))

On his way to where ever he was going, He had taken some of the little pieces of metal that had embedded themselves into his skin. There wasnt alot but it did fucking sting like a bitch, as he so elegantly put it.

Branches and leaves would be pushed aside with hand while the other carried his faithful boomstick. He was getting tired and very teasy now, and just couldent wait to get to a nice warm building where he could have a sit down and few cigarettes.

The three had'nt exaclty killed the terrorist, but would they get recognition for severely helping along the death? If one was to be aloud of the island would it be based on who gave the most damage? Only time would tell wheather one of the allies would leave or if they would just be left to rot all by there lonesome.

Smoke, smoke, my tasty smoke....

The jingle would be sung in his head as he pulled another royal brand cigarette from his pocket. The thin white, crumpled stick would be held between his lips. The blue disposable lighter would be taken out and after many attemps at sparking it into flame, it would be tossed to the floor, and kicked into a bush.

Fuck sake, the one pleasure i get and....I cant even....fuck sake!

He would stand in the bushes with an unlit cigarette in his mouth, now he looked like a poser, the whole smoking to be cool thing that seemed to work its way around school. A heavy sigh would be realised from the side of his mouth and an angry expression cam accross his face as he waited for the other two. he knew peri smoked so he would have a light...And if not, there'd be shit to pay.

[MismatchedEyes*]

Peri:

((Coming from: Enter the Hero))

He would appear through the dense undergrowth with his Ingram grasped tightly and a cigarette dangling from lush pink lips. The cherry of the cancer stick constantly flickering as more and more of that dangerous gas was forced into his lungs covering them with that safety layer of tar.

Mismatched hues raised to the light house...Well Big, not too many windows, a door that was intact and a roof which at a glance looked like it had survived one too many cold wars.

The Ingram would be slung on his shoulder as the now freed hand delved into the dark depths os his pocket to produce a disposable green lighter. Soon the flame was flickering and his friend`s cigarette was pumping the toxic gas away happily.

"Youre a Dick"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dorian:

((Continued from: The Return))

Those hot tears were oncemore flourishing down the bookworms face. He could hear them outside..plotting his death..more and more they came they wanted him dead surely. They wanted to kill him.. they all were against him, why? what had he done? Why? He cried silently to himself as he sat there with his back to a wall facing the main door that was blocked by numerous objects including the table and all of its chairs.

A few boards had been nailed up to cover the windows. He was safe or so he thought.

Fuckers..Those fuckers wouldnt get him. Holding back mouthfuls of flem he would scream towards the nearest window " ALL OF YOU GET BACK! GET AWAY! I HAVE A GUN! IF YOU DONT LEAVE ILL SHOOT YOU! ILL FUCKING SHOOT EVERYONE OF YOU! KILL EVERY FUCKING LAST ONE OF YOU!" he said in a trembling whimper.

[Bloody_Fists*]

The cigarette would be lit and he would take a couple of quick puffs before he heard that 'dick' comment that was thrown his way. Why must he provoke me?
"Warning" would yelled towards peri before he gave a quick sharp slap to the back of his head. He was ready for a counter slap but the screams intervined the dual.

They sounded scared, paranoid, they sounded a little....psychotic, but they also sounded weak was always good. A toxic fog would be realised from his lips as he turned his sights towards the lighthouse door. The windows had been blovcked up, he could s ee that from the outside, So it seemed the best way in would be through that door.

"Cunt chops!" he would say, notifying peri to start moving. He had a look arounded the wooded area for choi but it seemed she was either late or decided not to join the party. Just the two fuck ups now.

[Bloody_Fists*]

"Just get the fuck out of here before i shoot you" the voice from inside of the lighthouse sounded out again. Stevan would grab his shotgun by the stock as he would stroll up to one of the windows. He could just about see through the boarded up window. He could see in. It was just a little boy, too weak to protect himself, and no gun, easy pickings.

"Awww come on? im harmless, i swear." Stevan said in a annoying tone. "look i need a place to stay, ive been shot". His words were false and he was never good at the lying thing, but it was worth a try.

"NO, Fuck off, find somewhere else" One of those small tears would begin to form in his eyes. Dorian wasnt made for this game and surely would break down soon enough.
They cant get me if i just sit here, im smart i can outwit them all.

Stevan would take the cancerstick and stub it out on the wall, the half a cigarette would be placed behind his ear, ready to smoke later, never waste good cancer. "Fine then, ill leave"

Dorians muscles would finally relax, going from tense to jelly as he leaned back on the wall, He would breathe in, heaving like an old dog.
He was safe again, His hand was sweaped over his head, slicking the greasy black hair back.

Then all of a sudden he was tense again. One of the boarded up windows was being broken open. It was loud, as the wood slowly bent and cracked. It wouldent be long untill he got in, just had to keep at it. Dorians eyes widened as he jumped up.

[MismatchedEyes*]

Dorian sat there with those hot tears oncemore running down his pale face as the wood planks covering the windows would slowely be pulled away from their resting positions. The wood slowely splintering and he knew what was coming. Death..pain..anger.. it was all coming and he had nothing to fight with and nowhere to run just like a caged animal.
All he could do was wait, frantic hands ran through his hair as he smoothed it down.

Scrambling on his hands on knees he ran over to the otherside of the room away from the splintering boards and the rapidly approaching students. A Broom would be pulled from its place against the wall as Dorian would pass, a easy weapon.Its better than nothing, he could fight, he could win. He was smart.. he was good with biology..he knew the bodies weak points right? Through steamed glasses he looked towards the shattering wooden planks as he ran.

His dirted face hit the floor as he would trip letting out a little cry as he hit the ground, a few more tears a few more curses relesed as he looked to the object of his hate. A bit of yellow rubber piping that led directly to the back of the cooker.

A frenzied smile flew across the young students face s he tugged on it till that burning smell of gas filled his nose, the pipe just emtying its contents into the room. He couldnt help but laugh, they would die not him. He laughed harder and harder till his throat heart, insane sanity very long gone laugh as the gas filled the room.

He got to his feet still laughing well more giggling and stumbled his way up the stairs. THey would die..but he would survive. The smart survive, darwins theory survival of the fittest.

PERI:

That prick, that prick his supposed friend was always rushing. Peri on the other hand preferred to enjoy his cigarette instead of rushing off. They had just almost died repeatdly.. been set on fire and had a grenade ful of shrapnel almost shredd them to kingdom come so he was entitled to enjoy his cigarette.

His friend beckoned for him to follow but he just gave a single finger salute and took a drag of his cigarette. Slowely the cancer stick became dead ash littering the ground around him and then finally the blood stained teen would move towards the lighthouse and his friend.

He could hear the screams from either of the two people and see his friend smashing away at a window with the butt of his shotgun continously.Not impressed he just stood there smoking away with a thin brow raised.

( Peri`s a fair way away from the lighthouse so his cigarette wouldnt trigger the gas before anyone asks )

[Bloody_Fists*]

(I dont know anything about gas explosions or whatever but ill do my best, so do not bitch)

He stopped bashing away at those planks of wood when he heard the scrambeling and rustling inside. The one plank that he'd managed to break in half was torn away and he peered inside. He saw that young geek running across the room and up the staircase. Then suddenly he caught the faint smell of gas as a ust of wind came past. He'd purposely left the gas taps in the science rooms on enough times, hoping that someone would light a match, enough times to recognize it.

The thought crossed his mind straight away that they could all go boom, that would be them dead and the lighthouse gone. Three less contestants and no win for the freak. But then again the gas had only been filling the room for what? 10 seconds? It was worth a try.

The half a cigarette was taken from his ear and lit again. As ever the addicted a drag would be taken from the cigarette before it would be tossed into the middle of the lighthouse. The special toxins in the cancerstick would keep it light and there was a good ten minutes before it would reach the but and go out. should be enough time to get a safe distant and watch the whole fucking building burn.

He would casually walk away and towards his old buddy peri. "Come on, gas leak and flame inside, not safe." he didnt work too hard with the words but why should he make an effort? he wasnt exactly going to win an award for best speech when he got off the island was he.

(Yeah hope its ok, so shut up and give me suggestions if i fucked up, In PM mind.)

[Buko]

“Like anything is fucking safe anymore…” Peri stated quietly, he would’ve felt relieved that Steven had made it out safe that Steven had avoided the explosion that should be happening any seconds, but he didn’t feel it, why? A few seconds ago he didn’t care about winning the game, a few seconds ago he would’ve killed without hesitation…he had killed without hesitation. He began thinking that no matter how hard he tried to explain to himself that what he said to Elsie that day that seemed so long ago, that killing these people was actually helping them…he couldn’t continue that façade. Every kid whom he had killed had been another David; every kid he had killed had sacrificed themselves, if unwillingly to his survival…

I don't want to start thinking again. Not like I have this last week. I can't think again. Not ever again.

What if he just turned around and killed Steven, that would make things alright, he’d be alone again…he’d be happy. He shook his head only to find the Ingram slamming against his rib cage, he laughed…every moment he did something it caused pain…he was really killing his self esteem by thinking like that. Everything can't be self-esteem, can it? Was that why he was killing? To…become like his father? To kill for money only to find what was dear to him taken away…or in the case of David, what didn’t belong to him being taken away. He stared at the sky above, the sky.

Peri thought that a lot of other people had to have killed people before, had those doubts…the doubts that caused him to think that no matter how he worded it…everything he did wasn’t for his own survival, it was murder…he looked at the sky, the sky that all the children in the game must’ve been looking at…

And wondered how they felt today.

He was thinking fast now, he was thinking much to fast; he never wanted to think this fast ever. He needed to calm down; he needed to do something rational. And the most rational thing he could do right now was to stop thinking…that might seem irrational to some, but for Peri. It's just that sometimes people use thought to not participate in life, with him it was using thought to not participate in death, which had been the whole reason he was in this damn game.

He wanted to believe that all this friendship, all these alliances he had found in Hyde and Choi had been because they liked him, but did they even know him? Or did they only think that they need to align themselves with the second ranked killer on the island, did they only accept the alliance they thought they deserved. He stared at Steven, the boy had a shotgun, he had an Ingram…he could just dart away pelting him with bullets, make another enemy, yet never have to deal with the senselessness of the killings he’d participated with that man.

The senselessness of the killing he dealt out.

He had to leave, it wasn’t a maybe anymore. Steven wouldn’t understand things from Peri’s perspective; the only perspective that mattered was Peri’s perspective. He stuck a cigarette in his mouth and grinned at Steven.

“ I feel like shit man. I know things get worse before they get better, but this is a worse that feels too big…” he smiled at Steven, a false smile, but he managed to do so, “And that’s why I need some time alone man, I’m gone…don’t try to follow me, if we do meet again…well I hope you or I have changed enough to win this thing…”

He laughed a little on the inside about the irony of those words. He slung the Ingram over his shoulder one last time, took a drag from the cigarette, and flicked it away and then started his trek towards whatever part of the island the wind guided him to.

Peri couldn’t explain why he had changed so quickly, why he had abandoned his friends…but he felt happy.

I'm so happy
'Cuz today I found my friends
They're in my head.

((Continued in: Home))

[Chase*]

Halfway up the stairs the insanity gave way to some reason: how was he going to escape the lighthouse? He raised his hand to push his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose, the focus getting better as he did so. Hanging haphazardly off the banister of the stairwell was a coil of fairly thick rope.

"I need you," he said as he struggled to remove the thing from the banister.

He couldn't hear the voice of the boy outside telling his companion to leave. Nor did he even know that within seconds a burning cigarette was tossed right into the gas leak he had caused, but that mattered little to none when he fell backwards onto the steps with the uncoiled rope on his lap.

Suddenly, the mixture went to flames quickly, and hit the gas source just as he scrambled up again and ran farther and farther up the lighthouse tower. Splintered wood and debris flew out every which way, the foundation barely withstanding the blast from the explosion. This Dorian heard, without a doubt, and his screams were covered by the sound of the excrutiatingly louder sound of shattering glass and furniture being burned and blown to pieces. His instincts were running the show now, and Dorian was practically clawing his way up to the very top to protect himself from flames that could follow up with the remaining gas lingering. If there was any left.

Dorian's shoulder hit the door and the boy, rather frenzied by the wild look in his eyes and the tears mixed with dust tortured his poor eyes. But the silver lining of the moment was revealed, considering he wasn't a mass of body parts charred to a crisp.

"Ha. Hahahaha!" he couldn't help the laughing cry that left his mouth. He kissed his hands, hugged his legs. He was alive, still alive, he would be able to take another breath, another twenty. Hell, he could tap dance at this point, but... he was on the top of a very large tower. And the stairs weren't an option.

Dorian started to straighten out the tangled rope. He couldn't tell if it would be long enough. At closer inspection, he wasn't even sure he would be able to climb down. He was no athlete. Maybe a fool, at this point, like most jocks in his view, but not nearly as strong. He let one leg straighten as he rested his arm on the other, his hand shaking the piece of rope in his hands. Dorian must have blinked thousands of times in an attempt to get himself into a calmer state. He needed to tuck away the instinct for now, use reason to get himself out of this scrape alive. There wasn't going to be another way to do this, no second chance. So he had to plan this out, and fast. He could smell the smoke from the burning remains of the blown apart room and it was telling him time was running out.

There was a railing outside the glass frame of the top room of the lighthouse. A door was just a few feet away, and he dragged the rope along with him in one hand as he used the other to open the door. The wind blew hard this high. A bug smacked into the left lens of Dorian's glasses, and he wiped it away with the sleeve of his shirt. He needed to focus. He had to do this.

The railing was slippery from the ocean mist as he took hold tight with one hand. The rope was sliding behind him as he pulled it, and he had to brace himself before he looked down.

A mess of flames and debris was what had been left over from the gas explosion. The foundation and some of the framing had survived, but it was charred black and still smoking heavily. Dorian drew in a sharp breath. His plan was to climb down from the top of this tower with the rope, somehow managing to make it to the undamaged ground between the burned part of the building and the ocean cliff. The perfect spot was inches away, and he kneeled close to it to inspect the metal bar bolted to the ledge. The bottom was rusted and the bolt was as well.

"This is just perfect," he murmured sarcastically to himself. The next bar was too close to a burning chunk of wood, might have been a table, and the one beside that was too close to the edge of the cliff. One powerful gust of wind could send him plummeting into fire, the other into a watery grave. The books Robinson Crusoe and Treasure Island came to mind when he caught sight of the crashing waves. He would just have to try it out on the rusted rod.

"Here goes nothing," he sighed as he pressed his body to the ledge and used both hands to tie the rope. Dorian was kicking himself for ditching the boy scouts at an early age as he tried to remember what knot was the most stable. He ended up just tying three random patterns consectuively, making a rather odd looking mess of rope around the rusted bar. He tugged at it, using all the force he could, admitably it wasn't much with his scrawny arms.

Just as he was about to slide down from the ledge, his hands clutching tight to the rope, he started to contemplate all he had done. Or failed to do. It seemed all he would do was run from everything. He thought it lead him no where, save maybe a ledge of a very, very high lighthouse tower.

He couldn't laugh at the lame joke he thought up. He knew he wasn't funny.

He shifted so that his feet dangled off of the ledge and, with both hands still on the rope, he shoved off.

"Oh fuck!"

He hadn't gripped tight enough at first, and his hands began to slide as his body dropped quickly. All of his might was used to stop him from plummeting to his death. His palms burned while he tightened his fists against the rope to steady himself.

"Gah!" he squeezed his eyes shut at the pain he felt in his hands, but he held on.

The fall nearly brought him halfway down the rope. He opened his eyes and looked down.

"Oh damn. Oh, damnit!"

Dorian's rope was short, by quite a few feet. If he made it down, he would have to trust that he could make the jump without getting seriously injured, or worse. He shuffled down the rope as quick as he could, and soon he was near the end.

If he could survive this, he wanted to get revenge. Like Edmond Dantes, in The Count of Monte Cristo, he wanted to enact his revenge upon the ones who did him wrong, and maybe more people who were evil. He didn't know exactly who, but that wasn't important as he was dangling from a rope.

What mattered now was this jump.

Dorian let out a squeal, girly and high-pitched when he finally let go of the rope. The fall felt tremendously long, but in actuality he was on the ground within seconds. And he was alive. The rather sharp pain in his leg made him sure of that.

He would have begun to celebrate right then if he wasn't paranoid that the assailant or assailants were still around. Trying to ignore the pain he felt in his leg, he moved as fast as he could into the brush. He disappeared.

((Continued in Home))

[Bloody_Fists*]

Fuck, how things had changed in the past few minutes. The lighthouse was now just a concrete shell for burnt forniture and now peri had turned into a fucking quitter. The one person he could barely rely on had now fucked right off again. Now it was just him again and the got into bad situations when alone, Mhm, might be fun.

What he needed right now was a good blunt, packed to the brim, maybe elephant mask would give him a few tips and hints. elephant mask, the risidual self image stevan saw when he was baked. The guy who roams the streets with a chainsaw and a short fuse, worse things have happened.

so where to now for freak. He had the shotgun, the pistol, and lovely bullet wound to travel with. Maybe just another walkabouts would do? the last two had gotten him into a gun fight with a terrorist and blowing up a lighthouse, or some tactics could be brought into play and he could carefully plan where to go and how to get there.....fuck it. "Lazy fucker" was whispered to himself as he started walking.

((Continued in: Sinners Inc.))