Survival Of The Fittest

((Roberta Chen continued from Murphy's Law.))

The research station had been freaking her out and infuriating her in equal amounts. Plus, a cluster of buildings together like that, she figured… there had to be a lot of people in here. She didn’t know jack from shit about the wilderness, but she’d figured… at least she wasn’t gonna fall through a roof out there.

She’d overlooked some of the problems. That it was fucking cold. That her leg was cramping worse and worse the colder it got. That it got dark real fast after she left the station, and left her wandering in the dark with only her flashlight for company, as she wandered along the south path of the island. If she’d had a plan on where to go, it’d left her head the moment it got dark.

She thought she heard noises in the distance here and there… but she hadn’t seen any bodies, not yet. She knew there’d be one somewhere. Even outside of a death game… one wrong brandish with the knife you’re using for whittling, and bam. A fight, and rebar through the leg. That’s all it had taken.

Ugh, fuck off with your aching, leg.

Too cold. Too dark. She didn’t know how long she walked for, stopping every now and again to try and rub the ache out of her thigh. Never for long. The cold was worse. And every time she put the khopesh down, her nerves soared through the roof.

It could have been anywhere between early evening and the darkest hours of the morning when she saw buildings in the distance. And she was so damn exhausted that she didn’t care who was in them, or what they were. She’d snuggle up to a corpse if it’d make her a little warmer.

She turned off her flashlight before approaching the nearest house. She just pushed open the door. She couldn’t see anything… but she didn’t hear anyone move further inside.

Tired. Nerves shot to hell. She couldn’t even be scared.

And she wasn’t any closer to knowing what the hell she was doing. She’d left Daenerys alone in a cell – and she still hadn’t gone back to check if there was now a body in there, because she was a fucking coward – and left before even thinking of asking Odin if he wanted to come along (better him than the Megaphone Duo, ugh.)

Was she aiming for an alliance, even? And for what? Escape? Playing? Just hanging out until someone else either pulled off an escape, or killed them?

Fuck.

Her brain couldn’t even consider any of the options for more than two seconds before switching to another one, and the ideas kept swimming in front of her eyes before being discarded. The energy that’d kept her moving for the day crashing and burning at the bottom of a ravine of snow-covered garbage.

Fucking… fuck. That’s all there was to say.

She didn’t even bother exploring. She just saw the outline of a sofa and flumped face-first down into it, nevermind the dust that bloomed upwards in a cloud when she did so. Her khopesh still clasped in her hands. Her bag thumped to the floor, slipping out of her grip as she flopped.

She’d expected to stay awake a lot longer than she did, but she was out pretty fast.

…

At some point, as the sky remained dark but got, perhaps, just a smidge lighter… Roberta rolled a little in her sleep. As she did, the khopesh – still loosely in her grip but getting further out of it – ended up trapped under her bad leg. The flat, blunt metal of the lower part pressed against her jeans and rubbed the old scars.

Roberta wrinkled her nose in her sleep and scrunched her eyebrows, dust being inhaled a little with each breath, like the musty floor of the warehouse she’d nearly died on.

In her dreams, she was lying on a hard floor and couldn’t move, pinned like a butterfly to a card.

In reality, she rocked back and forth a little on the tattered sofa, but otherwise was silent.

On the second floor, a door slowly creaked open.

((Daenerys "D" Todd continued from November Has Come))

After ditching the pair in the changing rooms, the rest of the day flew by in a rush. Having enough from the research station, Daenerys made her way along the tattered road until she arrived in what the map called the mining town. As expected, it proved a better hiding spot.

The bathtub she spent the night in had been cold, but felt saver than the bedroom or the first floor. Judging from the light falling into the room, it was still a good hour before the sun would be fully up, but D had always been an early bird. Still, it was not like there was a plan this day. Sure, she would lay low, but that could hardly be called a specific endeavor.

When you got lost in a forest, the best course of action was to remain at one place and wait for the search party. However, on this island she didn't want to be found. Therefore she decided to set out again.

Her plan failed the moment she ascended the stairs and saw the open door leading outside.

D knew she had closed it last night.

Now even quieter than before, she took the last few staircases, keeping sure to hold the cooler above ground. If someone had entered the hoouse, they might still be inside, so it would be best to leave without any hesitation. She could just walk out of this door and never look back.

She could just walk out.

"..."

She threw a look in the living room.

In the dim light of the early day, a shape was lying on the sofa.

---

The streets were just as silent as the house.

Sometimes the wind could be heard, or one of the old buildings groaned.

She was stuck. Too tall. Too high up. This bright hole in the ceiling, and Curtis - a giant, back then, ten feet tall now - stood over it, framed in a sickly light like some fucked up Jesus thing if Jesus was an asshole on three substances, and she couldn't - fucking - move -


"Fghh," Roberta grumbled in her sleep, kicking her leg slightly. The motion nudged her bag, left carelessly by the sofa. The khopesh still trapped under said leg, in a manner that would be carving out a chunk of her if that side wasn't blunt.

Apart from her periodic groans, the house and the neighbourhood were still silent.

The shape moved.

Daenerys took a step back and remained in that position for a few seconds until it was clear that her classmate was asleep. Apparently this was just a case of two people choosing the same house to hide in.

It was both an annoyance and an opportunity.

There was only so much food and water in her backpack. There was approximately the same amount in the backpack lying on the sofa, a good three feet away from the sleeping shape. A few steps and she would leave this place with a lot more than she arrived with.

Even so, she still could just walk away, leaving the shape and their possessions alone.

But the rules of SOTF had been laid out clearly. It wasn't about what she could do. It was about what she should do if she wanted to live.

For maybe two minutes, D would stand still in the doorframe, nervously fretting around while barely moving, trying to hype herself up for her next steps. Finally she put the cooler down on the ground and made her way into the living room.

Getting closer, Daenerys recognized the shape as the girl she met not so long ago. Roberta, if she remembered correctly. The girl who had her left stuck in a cell, albeit for good reasons. If she had helped D, would that have changed anything about this situation?

She decided not to think about such things as she bend down and carefully grabbed the backpack. There was something looking like a meele-weapon in Roberta's hands, but Daenerys didn't want to stretch her luck. She just wanted to get the backpack and-

---

Sudddenly, the speaker that was right outside the house (alongside every other speaker) the two girls resided in gave a row of weird electronic noises which quickly made way for a jovial voice booming across the island.

"Good morning students of John Endecott Memorial Academy! I hope you're enjoying your time here at our resort and you're finding it a suitable replacement for the skiing you were supposed to be doing."

Couldn't move - couldn't move - couldn't move -

The screeching of the radio across the island, followed by the voice of the man who'd dumped them there, sent Roberta shooting up into a sitting position. Leg achy, but movable. She was mobile. This wasn't the warehouse, wasn't the hospital--

Just a dream. No Curtis--

But a figure.

A figure in front of her. Holding a bag--S074?

Roberta stared, dumbfounded, at the number on the bag that the figure was holding. That loud, crackly voice and her still sluggish brain fogging up, making the realisation take so long--

That was her number--her bag--what in the goddamn green fuck?!

A familiar face...? But all Roberta registered is that this bitch was robbing her in her sleep.

"HEY WHAT THE FUCK?!" she bellowed.

The khopesh in her hands, half-asleep but fucking furious, she swung it like a baseball bat at the thief, her ears thumping so loud she could barely hear--

"We try our best to give your a comparable experience, there's snow and a mountain. But anyway--"

The announcement caught Daenerys completely off-guard, causing her to freeze way too long.

After the few seconds she spent stepping back, stolen goods in hands, Roberta had already woken up and spotted her.

"W-w-wait!"

Roberta didn't wait as she raised her weapon and advanced, curses on her lips. D stumbled back dodging the first swing by pure chance. When it came to the second, she instinctively trusted the backpack forward.

THUMP!

The weapon, which appeared to be sharp, dug into the backpack. The impact shook through D's entire body, and for a moment, she almost fell backwards.

ShitshitSHIT! This was the complete opposite of going well.

"Hold on, you can ha-"

---

"-- as I told you all back when we first met, my name is Tracen and I'm here to give you the daily update on who in your class is a murderer and who their victims were. So without further ado, let's get to it. Kicking off our brand new winter edition we have--"

Roberta swung the khopesh again.

That was Daenerys--

--and again, it digging into the backpack and getting stuck--

--her mouth was moving, but Roberta couldn’t hear it--

--she yanked the khopesh out of the backpack--

Her arms moved, electricity making every nerve buzz and swamping out any actual thoughts. The khopesh hit the bag again, this time the hook catching a strap. With force, Roberta yanked and the bag was tugged out of Daenerys’ hands, or maybe she let go of it, either way it skidded across the floor. Rations tumbling out of a hole in the bag--

Roberta barely paid attention to it. She advanced, raising the khopesh again, heartbeat in her ears.

No bag in the way. She could see Daenerys properly now. Daenerys, who she’d abandoned yesterday to the mercy of the others on this island.

She couldn’t hear anything – Daenerys speaking, her own thoughts - over--

“--not wanting to feel left out Janice Cresner also slit Tristana Blanco Osuna's throat--”

--over the sounds of her classmates killing each other--

As Roberta's weapon retreated, ripping her only means of protection out of her hands, Daenerys Todd laid eyes upon her own death.

A movie started in her mind, showing Roberta using this opportunity, ramming the swordthing deep into D's chest, twisting it two times. The movie showed how Roberta retreated the blade, a fountain of blood gushing out while everything faded to black. The scene offered no sound. Only a silent whisper.

"No."

Any thoughts not related to survival vanished from D's mind, especially the ones about fleeing or talking Roberta down. She didn't even notice her next move before it was too late.

Just as Roberta readied herself for the fourth and final blow, Daenerys kicked with all her might against the leg her opponent had put forward a little bit too far.

---

"-- things were more rojo after that."

--classmates killing each other like Roberta was about to--

Fuck, she couldn’t--she couldn’t do that--

The khopesh slowed--not stopped, but slowed--a second before Daenerys kicked her.

“Fuck, ow!”

Right in the goddamn leg, right where it was stiff and achey and FUCK the balance was just gone, Roberta was on the floor before she’d even registered that she was falling at all. Would have been fine, would be fine, it fucking hurt but she got knocked in the leg all the time--

Roberta rolled onto her front, one hand holding her leg. Her other hand was empty. The khopesh had been dropped on the floor between her and--no, wait, she needed--

Roberta lunged for her dropped weapon in a panic.

“--pushed Ethan Kemp over a mountain ledge and to his death--”

The blade shone lightly in D's hands.

Did she pick it up for protection or for violence? The fact that she screamed "Stay away!" at Roberta while blindly swinging her newest possession spoke for the former.

How the weapon connected with Roberta spoke for the latter.

---

"Our next kill was much more simple brutality as--"

Oh.

This was familiar. Just for a second.

The rebar had been different – one piece that had just gone right through, almost clean. And it had been there for ages before someone had come to take her off it. The thing about that rebar is it hadn’t… exactly hurt. No, it had, but not as much as she would have thought beforehand. It was too deep to hurt proper. Gone numb long before that. The pain had come in later, once the rest of her body caught up to what had happened.

That khopesh wasn’t the same, built different, but there was the same sense of--

Oh. There is something in me that shouldn’t be.

The khopesh had slammed into her gut, curved end first. For a moment, it was in there. That weird shape of it digging in further than the rest, slicing something important.

THERE IS SOMETHING IN ME THAT SHOULDN’T BE

Roberta didn’t scream, because she couldn’t. All the wind was just gone, and she could only let out a strained wheeze.

The second passed, timed by Oakley York’s death being announced--

She tumbled back.

And it was no longer in her, and that’s where the similarities ended. Because the khopesh was longer and curvier and it was made to slice, not the quick impalement of rebar. Now something was torn, and, and and andandand--

There were no words

for how much

it hurt

She didn’t – couldn’t – scramble back. She just curled up on the ground, crouched over the wound with her hands pressing against it – blood dying the knitted gloves Dawn had given her scant weeks ago a vivid red instead of its original pink.

She didn’t move from there. She just let out shaky, quick breaths and otherwise remained quiet. Her forehead pressed to the floor, she curled up tighter, more pressure, trying to drive the pain painpainpain away

"I'm impressed and somewhat proud to say that we also already have our first double killer--”

And just as fast as it began, the danger seemed over.

With Roberta cowering on the ground and the weapon in her own hand, Daenerys regained her full mental capacity alongside the realization what just had transpired.

"Crap," she spoke to herself.

This wasn't supposed to happen. D knew that Kill at least one classmate was one of the rules, and she had spent a good amount of the last 24 hours thinking about it. In her mind, she had imagined herself getting this mandatory kill by finding a wounded person with the desire to die. Or putting down a so-called player who had murdered several others. Or even shooting the runner-up in a fair duel, after both talked it out to confirm it was nothing personal.

But now Roberta was crawling on the floor with an open belly. Since Daenerys was the one to start this conflict, it was unlikely Roberta would accept any help. If no one helped Roberta, she would bleed out. Or be found by someone willing to give her mercy.

D's hands were shaking so much that the blade vibrated visibly. Eventually she forced them to stop before taking one last look at Roberta--

---

"--that not far behind her? Well, it's Janice Cresner of course, her knife claiming another victim--"

---

--and leaving the room.

If someone else finished the girl off, Daenerys wouldn't be mentioned on the next announcement and thus keep a clean image for the rest of the class. That was the best outcome for this messed up situation.

Her new weapon in hands, D stepped into the hallway. Some of Roberta's stuff might have survived, but she just wanted to leave this house as soon as possible.

---

"I'd watch out for those two if I were you, they seem keen."

“Wait.”

She couldn’t do more than rasp. But it was just within lines of Tracen’s speech, just enough to be heard in between the list of the death.

She saw Daenerys stop moving, framed in the hallway.

“Next up, we have our first medical tip for all of you--”

“I’m...”

Roberta blinked several times, still holding her stomach. She couldn’t tell if it was lethal… but it was painful, deep, and she knew… knew that she wasn’t going anywhere. Knew that there was no medical help on this island. Knew that even if she didn’t die, she was doomed to stay right where she was until blood loss, infection or whatever else claimed her.

She couldn’t do that again.

She let go of the wound and grabbed the sofa that she’d been sleeping on with one blood-soaked hand and, with every nerve screaming, screaming, SCREAMING at her, she tried to make herself get up. Her legs were shaking violently. They would only last as long as she held this sofa, and even then only as long as this second-- this last – wind had going for her.

“I’m gonna…”

God, it hurt, it hurt itHURT there was tears and snot leaking out of her face, and her voice was trembling. She tried several times to speak before managing it--

"Another tip, although not medical, is to make sure you have actually beaten your opponent, something Mallory Valdez learned the hard way when--”

“I’m gonna fucking end you,” Roberta rasped. “I’m… I’m gonna… spend everything I got left on making sure you pay.”

She tried to push herself to her feet. She couldn’t. She could only hold herself so that she was on her knees instead of on the floor, and even that… her heartbeat was in her stomach, pulsepulsepulsing away.

“So… c-come back here. Y’coward.”

Roberta put all her energy into keeping herself as upright as possible. Hoping that Daenerys wouldn’t do what was perfectly in her right to do.

Roberta had left her trapped in that cell. Daenerys had locked her in this prison in response, and it’d be in her right to leave the key to freedom where Roberta couldn’t get it.

“Aracelis Fuentes is next to grace our list of killers--”

"Next we have the saddening news of the death of local YouTube star Steven Dodds after he was stabbed an extreme forty times by Jezzie Stark.

"Finally, we end today's update when after exchanging some thorny words Shu Hawthorne garrotted Kiera Hayes with barbed wire, a simple yet effective use of the tool he's been given.

"Now onto the second part of this whole process, and I'll go over this again just in case you weren't listening to me originally. We make areas of the island off-limits each day, these are Danger Zones, please remember that if you stay in these locations your collar will go boom taking your neck with it. So maybe don't wait around. All that said your first danger zone to be aware of is The Cave so don't go spelunking if you want to keep your head.

"Apart from one of you of course who has won our Best Kill Award! The winner of this prize gets a shiny brand new weapon and also a lovely hot cooked meal. The winner for today is Betty Quinn! Congratulations! Your prize, along with a hearty bowl of clam chowder paired with sourdough bread with butter and a piping thermos of hot cocoa, can be found in the cave, bring a flashlight, but don't worry. It isn't that deep inside.

"And that's it from me today kids, I'll see you tomorrow when we'll find out how you all spent the second day of the rest of your life. Until then, I hope you have fun."

---

The announcement finished, but Daenerys still stood in the doorway.

What Roberta said struck a chord in her. It didn't make her angry. The other girl was obviously just trying to provoke her. But being called a coward seemed... somewhat appropriate?

To return home, she had do fulfill two criteria. Right in front of her was the easy solution for one of them. And she was going to let this opportunity pass just to avoid nightmares tonight.

What made her so sure that a more justifiable kill would appear while she hid from everyone?

What made her sure that once she made it to last dozen, the others wouldn't off each other or succumb to injuries before she could touch them?

What made her sure she would even be among the last few survivors?

D ignored the last question, knowing that nothing good would come from considering it.

As for the rest, she had to admit that the answer was clear. In fact, Danya had just reported a good number of people who had reached this conclusion sooner.

This was not the time to half-ass things. Especially killing.

Daenerys turned around and walked straight to Roberta, who kneed in front of the sofa, using one hand for stability and the other to keep her bowels from falling out. The way was shorter than it felt like.

Standing before Roberta, D saw her hands shaking once more.

She grit her teeth.

The shaking stopped.

"..."

For a few more seconds, the two girls stared at each other, neither speaking a single word.

Then, as if someone had unpaused the scene, Daenerys raised the swordthing high above her head and buried it deep in Roberta's skull.

It felt like it took an eternity for Daenerys to turn around, and by then the world was silent.

But she did turn back. She was braver than Roberta had been.

All Roberta could do—or even wanted to do—was stay upright. So she stayed still. Trembled on the spot. Just met Daenery's eyes and waited.

She had one last thought before the khopesh cleaved through it.

She should have taken that fucking beer.

S074: Roberta Chen - Deceased