Survival Of The Fittest

[Daniel Ozanne continued from you cannot rest, there are monsters nearby]

"Damn," he muttered under his breath, staring into the pit.

So. Jezzie was not down there. Steve was, though. Honestly, he could believe he got stabbed like forty times, just looking at this mess. He turned his back on it, and covered his mouth, swallowing down the bile. Nothing he could do.

Well, there was something he could do. He could find a shovel, and dig out Steve's corpse or bury him or something. That was a good train of thought to follow, as long as he kept the corpse fully out of his vision. Find a shovel, free Steve in death, and... give him a viking funeral? He seemed like the type who'd like a viking funeral. Maybe the fire would even keep them warm - wait, no. The terrorists were okay with small fires, but that might be too much for them... and any comforting warmth would be mitigated by the smell of burning flesh.

The smell-

The train of thought crashed. At the very least, he had the control to duck between the trees, hoping Taylor and Wendy couldn't see him as he threw up. But, he remembered only midway that he forgot to tell them to not look. His reaction would have to be warning enough.

It wasn't just Steve, even though Steve was pretty fucking bad. Jezzie killed again, but not just that - Marian, Cedar. Marian would have been bad enough, but he knew on some level that whatever she was planning, it was doomed from the start. He didn't even have a killer to put to her name, other than fate and bad luck. But Cedar?

He was going to fucking kill Alex, right after-

Why was he like this?

((Taylor Thorne continued from You cannot rest, there are monsters nearby))

They'd spent all day yesterday wandering around the forest again, struggling to retrace their steps back to the ditch. It wasn't really like the time mattered. Steve wasn't getting any less dead.

Neither was Jess.

Taylor stood back from the edge of the crevasse as Daniel retched. Their nose wrinkled at the smell and sound of vomit, and they took a couple of shaky steps further back, but they mostly continued hugging themselves. Occasionally another few tears would roll down their cheeks, but they almost angrily swiped them away before the tears could freeze.

Taylor didn't have any more hysterics left in them right now. Just grief that was somehow raw and numb at the same time. Their face was red and their cheeks raw from how many times they'd scrubbed their tears away. Their eyelashes were crusted with something that wanted to become ice, despite their best efforts.

"How'd she even get down there?" They muttered when Daniel's fit of sickness seemed to subside. "How did she- I mean why-"

They couldn't even come up with a coherent question to ask why for any of this. Hell if Dan had any coherent answer. It just felt like they should say something to break the silence.

The smell of death and vomit. It was all too familiar.

(Wendy Kennedy, continued from You cannot rest, there are monsters nearby)

Steve was left in the ditch to rot, just as predicted. Wendy felt sick to her stomach, as though she could throw up any second. While Daniel was busy puking his guts out, Green Haired Person (who’s named she learned was Taylor while traveling) wiped tears from their eyes, and wondered how Jezzie got down there to kill Steve.

Wendy imagined a couple possible scenarios. Jezzie could have climbed down there, stabbed Steve, then climbed back out. Or maybe Steve got out, but was ambushed by Jezzie, then fell back down after being stabbed. Wendy grimaced at these thoughts. She usually didn’t imagine stuff like this.

“He didn’t deserve this,” said Wendy, sadly, “None of us deserve this. Not even the worst of us.”

Daniel breathed in, and forced himself back to his feet.

"I'm good," he muttered, as he walked back to the others. "Fine now," he lied, giving a shaky thumbs up as he rejoined them at the crevasse.

No one deserves this, huh? Not even Jezzie herself? Not even Alex? Not even the fucking terrorists? Honestly, Daniel kind of wanted to see how they'd do if they were the ones thrown into a death game - but in all likelihood, they were armed adults who've been at this for a while. No poetic justice to be found there. No poetic justice to be found in... anything Daniel caught himself thinking about, really.

Because Wendy was right. None of them deserved to be here, anyway. He was pretty sure that legally, every murder committed in SOTF was made under duress or some other legal term that meant you weren't really responsible for your own actions.

What a tempting thought that was, sometimes. Hypocritical nature of said thought aside. He imagined the terrorists snickering at that particular legal ruling - what better justification to do whatever you want here?

"Well... maybe she got down there but didn't get stuck under anything like..." he shook his head. "It's... it's done, though."

The mission to rescue Steve was a bust - but surely, there had to be something to occupy Daniel's time. And the others'. For one, he knew one thing he wished he did sooner.

"Say... anyone you want to meet up with?"

Taylor laughed a little, in that way you did when nothing was remotely funny.

"Jess."

They turned away from Daniel and back towards the ditch, and forced one frozen foot in front of the other through the snow until they got to the edge.

"Robin."

They stood on the lip of the crevasse, heart hammering in their chest like it was fighting to prove that they were still alive, reciting the names of dead friends. Taylor hugged themselves tighter, and then with a gasp like they were about to force their head underwater, they leaned over and looked.

"Ste-" Their stomach revolted immediately as they once again came face to face with a bloody crime scene. "Shit-" They stumbled back as bile rose in their throat; they didn't start retching, but they did cough and spit, the sharp pains in their middle reminding them of how little they had eaten lately.

"Fuck, I-" Dizzy. Hurt.

Taylor breathed in. The air tasted like rot.

"I'm sorry. I need. I gotta be alone, okay, I can't-"

Tay barely finished getting the words out before bolting away into the trees.

((Taylor Thorne continued in You're At The Party))

Daniel held his tongue before he said that's not what I meant. If it was, he would have answered with Cedar.

(They weren't together anymore. They were both over it. They were just friends.)

He held himself too steady, too steady to run after Taylor the moment they bolted away. They vanished into the trees before he could move again. And yet, he didn't, not yet.

It was obvious what he should do - run after them, gun in tow. It was obvious what he shouldn't do - run after them, gun in tow. Here, nowhere was safe, and no one was safe, and letting someone go off alone just felt wrong, near equivalent to saying he didn't care if they died. Here, they still deserved some shred of dignity, some time to process and mourn, and in the civilized world, following someone without their knowledge and against their express wishes was generally considered "stalking", which was a crime.

(He could have sworn he heard mom crying over the phone to a relative about this sort of thing, worried that someone had followed her here all the way from Quebec. Only one person that could be, if it was anyone at all.)

No standards of decency still applied here, except for the ones he chose to uphold.

(Most stalkers thought they were special.)

But back in that world, he liked to think he was good at thinking fast, thinking on his feet. They moved him on their own, without leaving an invitation for Wendy to follow.

[Daniel Ozanne continued in You're At The Party]

Taylor had ran off into the forest, with Daniel in pursuit. Wendy figured Taylor needed to be alone for a while, so she didn’t follow. Maybe Daniel was going to comfort them. Wendy just stood by the ditch where the body of Steve was left. Wendy couldn’t help but think about how awful of a situation Steve had been in. Stuck in a ditch, waiting for help, only for someone to come along and end your life.

Wendy thought back to her family back home. She wanted to play Mario Kart with Cassidy again. Watch anime. Get her hair done by Mel. Draw her furry art. She hoped to further her art skills by going to college with an art major. After graduating, who knows where her life would have led. She’d never know that now. Not unless she got off this island.

(Wendy Kennedy, continued elsewhere…)