Survival Of The Fittest

The sound of crunchy footsteps in snow. A door slamming open.

And a small girl walking inside from the winter air.

Elodie Hailey closed the door behind her and adjusted the hood of her cloak. Then, for a second she stretched her muscles.

No one had shown up while she was out in like, the past hour or so. Still, she had to be careful. Who knew what creature crawled in while she was taking care of some business?

Elodie looked in each room to be sure. She didn’t hear anyone, she didn’t see anyone. So far, so good. Maybe it would be helpful to have someone else here. Maybe an extra set of hands, maybe an extra source of warmth. But for now, she had a claim to this spot for the night.

She’d been resting most of the day, actually! Kinda… thinking about her game plan, yeah? She figured she’d stay here, but keep herself moving. And, well, while she was out… she found some snacks.

Elodie plopped herself onto the couch and undid her jumper dress’s pocket, pulling out some winter oyster mushrooms, the bounty of her search. Winter oysters were easy to find, they grew on logs, were big, and were tastiest when they were cooked with butter. They looked similar to angel wings, which you shouldn’t eat, but they were meatier, flatter, grayer, and much bigger. She’d been doing pretty good on food! Just that, uh, the bread they gave them sucks. Everything sucks, really, but the bread… the bread…

Yuck.

Well! Beggars can’t be choosers. But still. Her foraging near the woods helped. Anything helped. Not just to survive, but to–

The image of her French teacher getting his brains blown out flicked into her brain. She liked Monsieur Perez, and he taught her a lot. Like, she’d enjoyed his French classes, and how he taught them about French culture, and how he liked soccer, and… and…

And Mr. Ramos… his love of trains… she got him train stickers once, and he… exploded. All while that bitch just chewed gum, and—

Elodie closed her eyes. Savored the mushroom in her mouth. Sometimes a tremor came on, and not entirely from the cold. She wondered about Bridgette, and about Trisha, and about people in the Natural History Club. But she remembered one thing.

She swallowed and curled herself up underneath her cloak.

One of Elodie’s favorite movies was MirrorMask. It was released in 2005, and it was basically a spiritual successor to Labyrinth. And there was a scene of a woman who lived with man-eating sphinxes like a crazy cat lady. The infamous advice that was given during that scene was ‘do not let them see you are afraid.’

Elodie smiled.

She wasn’t going to show her fear.

Lily preferred Troll 2 herself, insofar as goblin movies were concerned.

((Lillian Larsen continued from Welcome to Hell))

As Lily and her group made their way through the deserted suburbs, she couldn't help but feel like there was something strangely nostalgic about the place. As if she'd been somewhere similar before, whether in a past life or at some point during her early childhood, though for the longest time she couldn't really place where or why.

She wondered at first if it was because of the architecture, which triggered fond memories of staying up all night watching 80s horror flicks. She could easily picture the street they were making their way down on a Halloween night, jack-o'-lanterns on every porch, trick or treaters wandering from door to door... And a masked killer on the prowl, searching for their next victim.

It wasn't until they passed a street sign that she began to suspect why it all felt so very familiar. It was notably written in two languages, English and a language that looked strikingly Scandinavian, maybe either Danish or Norwegian? That narrowed down where they could be significantly, likely somewhere up in the far north between Canada and Norway, which also explained the research station mentioned on the map.

Lily remembered what it was like going on holiday to Denmark when she was younger, visiting her great aunt Lisbet at a small town by the coast near Copenhagen. It wasn't far off the mining town they had found themselves at, not nearly as cold obviously but it had a similar quaint charm to it, the kind of place you'd want to retire to in order to get away from the hustle and bustle of city life. It was there that she'd been gifted her favourite hat, which she had since put on to cope with the cold weather, her hand lightly fondling one of the red woollen ear flaps as she considered the various houses on offer.

"HMmm... How about here? This place looks as good as any other..." she'd suggest to her companions, pointing to what she assumed to be an abandoned house, not realising that a goblin had already gone and turned it into their den.

Amaryllis shared Lily's strange, nostalgic feeling. To her, it felt papered over with a thick layer of disgust. She had no idea what this place was, but it seemed to be mocking her. The apparent age of the buildings, the rot that she saw creeping up the wall and over the roof of many a squat residence, suggested it had been several decades abandoned. But she could not know for sure that the whole thing was not built a few months ago, for them all to see and think that it was old and had been there much longer. That was the thing with suburban cookie cutter development plans. They were timeless, in a way meaning less resistant to time than outside of it. She half expected to turn a street corner and see a McMansion.

The multilingual signage snapped her out of it, though. That was when the pieces began to fall into place. A cold island from the cold war. A place as memory holed as any. Part of a great big circle around a great big foe, a foe whose side she'd happened to take. But why was this place deserted when so much of what the Americans had built around the Soviet Union still remained? When they were continuing to build it up, even after their so-called "end of history?"

[Amaryllis Peszek-Byrne continued from Welcome to Hell]

The group stopped in front of a nondescript house. It was the same as every other one, up and down the block. Lily thought they might as well go inside, and Amaryllis found herself agreeing. It was getting colder, and later, and they'd already done a round of the town.

"Let's do it," Amaryllis said, her breath blooming into clouds of condensate. "I'll take point. That way if they get me, they don't get anything good."

Without waiting for her companions to agree, Amaryllis stepped away from the group—her lacrosse stick in both hands, bags slung over her shoulders—and began to walk towards the front door.

Maybe it was her ideology, maybe it was growing up on a farm, but suburbia drove Liya just a little bit nuts.

[Iliya "Liya" Polaris continued from Welcome To Hell]

It couldn't just be her, right? It felt like she was walking through a particularly lazy procedurally generated landscape, with only so many models for houses and convenient square grids. Far be it from her to use unnatural as a pejorative - perhaps uncanny was more apt - but how else do you describe it? Not just the suburb, but what the suburb represented: nuclear families, car-based infrastructure, American dreams and American values.

The suburbs sprawled across the culture so quickly and totally that the suburbanites Liya knew seemed completely unaware that there was an entire history where things like "extended family" weren't just people you had to talk to at Christmas and Thanksgiving, and that there continued to be an entire world, beyond their white picket fences. Seeing them hollowed out and laid bare just heightened how hollow these neighborhoods already were.

Which was to say, Liya was staying close to the back of the pack when they stopped at an arbitrary house. She might fucking hate it here, but warmth was warmth.

She opened her mouth to object, but Amaryllis broke off anyway - Liya huffed, and stepped after her. The billhook remained in her bag. Her bag, since half an hour ago, was open just enough to grab it.

There’s a picture that comes up every so often on social media of a wolf pack in a line. It goes on and on about each wolf’s position in the line before getting to the last wolf at the end. Last in line, standing alone, The Alpha. He controlled everything from the rear. In that position, he could see all and properly give direction to the pack. Nobody could sneak on his group from behind as long as they had Big Dick in position. He had always thought that picture was dumb and anyone who brought up wolves in relation to human nature a backwards hippie with too much access to Wi-Fi. Still, he thought of the picture in this second and felt himself applying its logic to his steps.

His lack of speed was caution. His purpose was protection…

Least that’s what he told himself.

Not that his steps were slow and his legs short.




Steel in hand, steel in his eyes, Dicky stumbled and stepped from behind, huffing and puffing and wiping a cold sweat from his brow as he did. His stomach grumbled and ached and his ankles felt tested from walking so far and hard in basketball shoes. In his mind and heart, he wanted to be Welles Crowther. Running into burning buildings and saving people with his strength of shoulder and will. Instead as he watched Amaryllis run towards the door Dick felt sticky silence in his throat.

He wanted to follow, he wanted to scream “Stay back! I got it!” and go in there on some Quick-Draw McGraw, John Wick shit. Richard wanted to be a hero. He wanted to protect. Instead he stood still with his grip tightening around his pistol and a finger tracing the collar on his neck.

There was someone in the house next door, too.

(You know what, she might be running out of plates.)

Elodie froze. That was chatter, and the sound of crunching footsteps. Did someone follow her here? She did hear some weird noises from the neighboring house when she was coming up, like someone was smashing plates. Maybe she should have taken that as a warning.

Elodie’s eyes flicked to the various exits. There was the front door, of course, but there was the garage exit. Her better bet, though, would be the back door through the kitchen. Since the kitchen was quickly accessible through the living room– where she was– she could run inside, slam the door behind her, and then burst through the back door into the snow. She’d tried the windows earlier, too. Some of the windows were sealed shut and immobile, but there was one a few feet away that she was able to crack open a bit, even if it was still somewhat frozen.

Yeah, she’d taken the time to figure out potential exit routes. There was something else she’d taken the time to do, too. Elodie patted the other pocket of her jumper dress. She hoped she didn’t need to pull it out so soon.

But first, she needed to… y’know, assess everything!

Elodie peeled herself off the couch, and looked through the front door’s peephole. It was somewhat blurry due to the cold, but she jumped when she saw four whole people approaching. And at least one of them was making a beeline towards her lair.

Great!

Elodie took a moment, trying to figure out what to do. She saw Big Dick, the vice president whose name she’d always laugh at. She wondered if he really would act like a Big Dick here. He had three girls with him. Iliya could be abrasive, sure, and it looked like she had something sticking out of her bag. Amaryllis had a odd name and a lacrosse stick, and she was pretty sure she and Iliya were friends. She was also the one who was making the most progress towards approaching her lair. And then, there was Lillian. She was friendly, if a little flighty.

Since Big Dick was hanging out in the back, Elodie would probably have to reason with Amaryllis and Iliya for the time being. Four against one wasn’t a good outcome! Two against one was only slightly better! She didn’t think they followed her, they just… might have had the same idea. Still, had to be careful. Elodie still had no idea about the plate-shattering noise.

She looked towards the kitchen, then back towards the front door. Elodie made sure the chain lock on the door was on, then opened it a crack, feeling a burst of cold air.

“Halt!” she called out. “I don’t want to start problems, just resting! What… is your quest?”

No, thank you. We don’t want any more visitors, well-wishers, or distant relations, the quote echoed in her head. And what about very old friends?

Admittedly, this was risky. But Elodie figured in the end that she’d be upfront about the fact that she didn’t want to cause problems, that there wasn’t much use in picking a fight with her. If it turned out they were doing some weird Purge thing, she’d still have some distance, what with the chain lock. It’d be enough to run for the back door. Though, four people meant they could have someone circle around. In which case, the window?

Her hand gripped tightly on the door knob.

Lily watched as Liya and Amaryllis went on ahead, sighing softly as she reached down to unzip her duffle bag and fetch a bottle of water from within. Like Richard, the walk from the graveyard had left her a touch breathless, so she wouldn't shy away from an opportunity to stop and take a quick glug. The rocker girls weren't exactly that far ahead, so if need be she could catch up within a matter of seconds.

She couldn't help but notice that Richard was even more out of breath than herself, which in hindsight really shouldn't have been as much of a surprise as it was. Despite outward appearances the guy had built quite the reputation for himself: Student Council Vice President, Homecoming King, hell she could've sworn he was also captain of the Terriers, granted she was a bit out of touch when it came to the local sports scene. Regardless he was a guy who certainly lived up to his nickname in spirit, so much so that it was easy for her to forget sometimes that she was actually a few inches taller than him.

Still, after glugging down some water she'd offer him the bottle, taking the opportunity to observe their surroundings as Liya and Amaryllis approached the front door. As she did so she couldn't help but notice something that caused her to raise her eyebrow, over near the house just adjacent to the one they were eyeing up. Scattered all over the yard was what appeared to be... Broken ceramics? And a plastic bowl? Huh. Wonder how long that's been there...

Lily didn't have long to ponder, as it was at that point that she noticed that Liya and Amaryllis had both stopped, and appeared to be talking to someone on the other side of that door. Who exactly she couldn't tell just yet, though she'd start to make her way forward with her hand palming the handle of her sword-whip just in case her companions needed any extra help.

"Hey, whose..." she'd begin, stopping in her tracks as another odd sound caught her attention. It was a bit muddled, but she could've sworn she just heard something break, slowly turning her head back to Richard.

"Did you hear something?"

Olive had been walking for a long time. After her discovery, she had rounded the southern part of the island looking for the other part, but was starting to think she had come to the wrong place. Wouldn't it be in a place with people? Wasn't that the town? But so far, no luck. Maybe it wasn't anywhere at all, and was just another joke.

This sucked. She had imagined being abducted before, but in her dreams she was taken by aliens and prodded and probed on a flying saucer. This was just a normal human abduction, which meant she was going to end up in a field of snow with her face all crushed. The loop of rope tossed over her head, loose end hanging in front of her like a necktie, would not help her in any way.

At least the fingerless gloves she wore kept her hands warmer. The left one was red and the right one was black, but that was okay. She was glad she'd kept her snow pants on even on the bus. She was mostly dry.

She was walking behind the houses, because she would be more likely to find what she was looking for there. There wasn't a path besides her footprint, but she also hadn't seen anyone. She took big steps, bringing her knees up high, and her progress was low.

Then, Olive heard smashing coming from a house nearby. It went on for a while before slowing down. Someone must be breaking things.

Olive couldn't do anything about being kidnapped, or failing in her search, but the noise reminded her she wasn't completely powerless. Even if she couldn't help herself, she could still accomplish something.

Olive picked up a chunk of rock and threw it through the back kitchen window of the house the smashing had come from.

With a short glance over her shoulder Amaryllis saw that she was not alone, with Liya following close behind. She also saw that the other two were splitting off and checking the other house, for some—well, not just any reason. As she turned her head back around toward the house she was approaching, she saw dishes and broken furniture in the lawn. There was some sounds in there too, almost like a struggle of some kind. Now what were they, night watchmen? She wanted to say something to get the two's attention, but not tip off whoever was inside. If she had enough time she'd have figured on her own that they were better off than she was, out here taking point with a piece of cheap aluminum and netting, while they had some kind of fantasy Dungeons and Dragons weapon and a very small gun.

But she didn't have time to think—she was distracted instead by Elodie, telling her, basically, to freeze. In this weather she didn't have to be told twice. The person in the door—Elodie, another high school occultist (god, what was Amaryllis doing out here, starting a coven?) told them both that she was resting, and that she didn't want to start any problems. And...a quest? Maybe this was some kind of Dungeons and Dragons.

"Sorry to bother you," Amaryllis said, standing still and straight, "we're not looking to cause any trouble. We've just been looking for somewhere to stay in, from the cold. I'm Amaryllis, and this is Liya. Over there is Lily and, well, you probably know Big D. Your neighbor's made some kind of fucking mess in the front yard. Nothing gory; just dishes."

She was going to say something next about how Elodie looked familiar, and did she ever go on walks in the Salem Woods, when a sudden sound of breaking glass came from around the back of the house.

"Shit," Amaryllis said, "listen, you might want to come out of there, it sounds like there's been a break-in, in your back room."

Liya saw the others splitting over to the other house in the corner of her eye, but she didn't really have time to think about that.

All of her contemplative and arguably-noble thoughts seemed to evaporate in newfound irritation at the unfamiliar voice's shenanigans. She gritted her teeth and stopped herself from rolling her eyes. But they were on Survival Of The Fucking Fittest and now whoever it is decides it's a good time to LARP? It was a good thing that Amaryllis cut in when she did, because Liya would have certainly been a bit to snippy to be diplomatic. She appreciated that after simmering with her tongue held, while Amaryllis talked.

And then, the sound of glass shattering.

"Want me to check the back?" Liya figured she'd be better off channeling her irritability on someone who probably deserved it more than whoever-it-was. Or a praying classmate.

The smashing of glass and the prompting of Lily broke Big Dick out of his anxious trance and confused stance. Richard blinked hard and felt his neck jerk from side to side with an extreme speed and with little grace as he tried to take in the entirety of the scene in one sweep. The whiplash was more mental than physical but Dick felt a twitch and twinge of pain all the same. There was a pressure and weight on his shoulder that he couldn’t shake and barely could carry, the sharp movement felt like a sharp knife.

This didn’t feel right. This had to change. A thousand scenarios went through his mind and Dick didn’t like more than nine.

When playing basketball, he always knew his position. Dick played point guard. The offense ran through him, that meant Richard moved the ball up the court and he decided who would take the shots. He was required to keep a cool head, read a defense and anticipate where his teammates would end up being. There was just as much ego in that as there was in his decision to run for captain or vice president…Dick felt best when the ball was in his hands. He didn’t feel right unless he was the one making moves and moments.

His fear and anxiousness had kept him paralyzed and prevented him from asserting himself. Dick saw his group split up and he saw carnage around the corner and debris around the scene. A thousand scenarios went through his mind and Dicky didn’t like more than nine. He didn’t like this and he didn’t like how this was going. Dicky saw traps set in motion and bad actors moving in the shadows. He didn’t like it and at this point it didn’t matter why. For some reason he thought walking into those houses meant walking into a trap and fuck you, he wasn’t going out like that.

Better in the front yard than hidden behind a corner. Better to make someone runaway than let them run through.

Pistol in the air, finger on trigger, impulse in his heart and doubt on his mind…

Big Dick didn’t have to use it. They just had to know he had it. People didn’t have to run with it—they were more than welcome to run from it.

The noises stopped.

The gunshot got one reaction at least: a shriek nearby, and the sound of running footsteps redoubled.

((Iris Waite continued from Come Out, Juanita, Don't Let Me Wait))

She'd almost been ready to stop. She'd started slowing down her run from the church, at least, and maybe she'd find a house to duck into, or maybe she'd just collapse on the ground and be really pathetic, but-

Oh, Iris wasn't ready yet to be so pathetic as to just lay on the ground and let someone walk up and shoot her. The scream was involuntary; her throat hurt from how much screaming and crying she'd been doing. Her whole head hurt, eyes swollen and aching, the ever-present throb in the back of her skull where she'd hit the cellar floor always reminding her of what had happened.

But she knew pain, to some degree. She was an athlete. She'd always worked through it as best she could.

So she kept running. She would collapse elsewhere - not here, not yet.

((Iris Waite continued in A Girl's Feelings))

Ah, they didn’t appreciate her fantasy guard routine, she noticed. Or, at least, Iliya didn’t. Amaryllis was upfront, they needed a warm place to stay.

Hm, Amaryllis wasn’t that weird a name actually.. It was old-timey, if anything. It was the name of a flower, and it symbolized pride and beauty. So, there was that.

Elodie kept her hand on the doorknob, and smiled.

But she stopped smiling. She heard that too.

“I think it’s my neighbor again–”

And then gunshots. Great.

With a swift motion, Elodie slammed the door closed. The sound of her testing the chain lock could be heard from the other side.