This place wasn't a graveyard. But it was close enough to count. The houses were tombs like any other, mausoleums to a town long-forgotten. The only difference is that there were raiders in these ruins, specters that haunted what was now their stalking grounds. New corpses came to join old graves. New predators replaced those that left.
One of them stepped out of the dark and into the light.
S031: ABHISHEK PANICKER — CONTINUED FROM "Your Honor, Survival of the Fittest."
He had returned to the house—his now—for some rest after yesterday's prowl. He scoffed. They'd had some gall, those girls, and he liked a bit of gall—respected it. Still, he might not give them the same grace next time. What grace? Well, he couldn't say because he wasn't quite sure himself. But one thing, to him, was a certainty now.
It was time to up the ante.
Some might have called it crazy. Why push your luck any further? To most, it probably seemed like madness. But there was a method to it. And, he figured, he knew his next mark. Soon, all the voices of reason—people like John—would fade away. They would, in time, be silenced by others or cease to speak for themselves.
The world was going mad.
So was it madness to join in?
Abhishek didn't think so. To him, it seemed pretty reasonable. Enough killers were running around already—they were a dime a dozen—that he doubted anyone would pay much mind to one more. The iron was cool. A strike now wouldn't leave a mark. And, though he loved showmanship, that suited his purposes more now.
He stepped forward into an alley—darted in, out, and around the junctions as he made his way through the town. It was a science and an art form now. For the past day or so, he'd mapped the place out. Now, his work would pay dividends. Weapon in hand, he turned one last corner towards an intersection, the crossroads of their fates.
Someone was there. Abhishek recognized them—D—the same person who'd left them behind. She was a killer now. That meant something: nobody would miss her when she was gone. Bushwhacking an innocent for your mandatory kill was one thing, but this? It came with a pre-packaged excuse. He'd wash his hands of it with ease.
In his hand, at his side, he held his weapon tight, close. He raised his over his shoulder and let it rest in the crook. His hands tapped at the long stick that made the rod of his makeshift mace, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. That part was harmless. Its edges, he knew, were deadly sharp. He smiled. His teeth looked sharper.
"Hey," he said.
Year Zero
[Private, Day 4.]
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DerArknight
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The girl didn't reply at first.
((Daenerys "D" Todd continued from Last Christmas))
After leaving the basement, D had had a surprisingly good time. She spent most of it outside in the tundra, all on her own, never running into anyone. For some hours during the last day, it felt more like just a camping trip with insufficient equipment.
At least until that one time she found two severed fingers lying on the ground. And the announcement that morning. And the khopesh. And the nightmares.
As much as she wanted to, today D went back into the village. In order for her long-term plan of avoiding the places were most of her classmates would be - AKA the signs of civilization - to work, she needed to built a shelter. The materials found in the tundra were plenty, but not enough. A few blankets could spell the difference between survival and frostbite.
She even almost made it out, her cooler now a good bit heavier. Things were looking good. Too good.
Maybe that was the reason why Abhi suddenly appearing lacked the surprise it should have.
D examined her frenemy. Abhi was sporting some DIY-weapon consisting of sharp stars - she believed she had seen them in an anime her siblings loved - wrapped around a stick. They were lacking any red, so odds were he hadn't been forced to use them so far. Good for him.
"Hi," she finally responded.
((Daenerys "D" Todd continued from Last Christmas))
After leaving the basement, D had had a surprisingly good time. She spent most of it outside in the tundra, all on her own, never running into anyone. For some hours during the last day, it felt more like just a camping trip with insufficient equipment.
At least until that one time she found two severed fingers lying on the ground. And the announcement that morning. And the khopesh. And the nightmares.
As much as she wanted to, today D went back into the village. In order for her long-term plan of avoiding the places were most of her classmates would be - AKA the signs of civilization - to work, she needed to built a shelter. The materials found in the tundra were plenty, but not enough. A few blankets could spell the difference between survival and frostbite.
She even almost made it out, her cooler now a good bit heavier. Things were looking good. Too good.
Maybe that was the reason why Abhi suddenly appearing lacked the surprise it should have.
D examined her frenemy. Abhi was sporting some DIY-weapon consisting of sharp stars - she believed she had seen them in an anime her siblings loved - wrapped around a stick. They were lacking any red, so odds were he hadn't been forced to use them so far. Good for him.
"Hi," she finally responded.
Abhishek's smile grew a little wider at the acknowledgment. D answered so casually as if she'd forgotten the events of the previous days, forgotten her abandonment of them and the murder she'd committed. His lips curled into a sneer, fingers still rat-a-tat-tat-ing on the long spine of the weapon in his hand. He let it fall to his side.
"Let's catch up, D. How's it been?" His posture was open—friendly, even—but there was no warmth. "Since we last met, that is. I still fondly reminisce about when you abandoned the two of us. Good times." He spoke with an upbeat, sickly-sweet tone, almost sing-song in its style and manner. The smile never left his face.
"Let's catch up, D. How's it been?" His posture was open—friendly, even—but there was no warmth. "Since we last met, that is. I still fondly reminisce about when you abandoned the two of us. Good times." He spoke with an upbeat, sickly-sweet tone, almost sing-song in its style and manner. The smile never left his face.
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DerArknight
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So even four days into this mess, Abhi was still up to his usual spiel. Figured.
She knew Abhi good enough to know that telling him to shut up would just motivate him to be even more obnoxious. Curt replies would give him little to work with.
Or at least that would have been the plan in a normal situation.
"I don't think you are any better in that regard. Or is Corbin going to jump up behind me?"
She knew Abhi good enough to know that telling him to shut up would just motivate him to be even more obnoxious. Curt replies would give him little to work with.
Or at least that would have been the plan in a normal situation.
"I don't think you are any better in that regard. Or is Corbin going to jump up behind me?"
"I've got an excuse, at least," Abhishek sniped back, smile still looming large across the plane of his face. "Corbin proved to be, well, an ungrateful patient. His idea of a reward for my contributions was to attack me. But, considering that I'm here, talking to you, it's fair to say that he wasn't exactly successful in that regard."
He twirled the weapon in his hand. The smile widened. "He made a mistake, and I made him regret it." Abhishek laid his cards on the table. "And, frankly," he said, with a roll of his shoulders, "he should count himself lucky that I didn't euthanize him for that. Rabid dogs usually get put down if they try and bite their betters."
He twirled the weapon in his hand. The smile widened. "He made a mistake, and I made him regret it." Abhishek laid his cards on the table. "And, frankly," he said, with a roll of his shoulders, "he should count himself lucky that I didn't euthanize him for that. Rabid dogs usually get put down if they try and bite their betters."
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DerArknight
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"Well, I guess that makes me the smarter one for getting out earlier," Daenerys replied, pointedly ignoring Abhi's comment about beating up Corbin. "You can keep the moral high ground. I will keep myself alive."
It was clear the situation would yield no positive results for either of them. Better to wrap it up quickly.
"So, would you mind stepping aside? I have places to be."
The grip around her khopesh hardened a little.
It was clear the situation would yield no positive results for either of them. Better to wrap it up quickly.
"So, would you mind stepping aside? I have places to be."
The grip around her khopesh hardened a little.
The high ground. An interesting idea—one that Abhishek thoroughly rejected. There were no peaks on this moral mountain, only a continuous cascade of slippery slopes. His expression darkened. The smile was cruel and heartless, teeth like dozens of daggers against his lips.
"You're not going anywhere, D," he said, words sharp and cold like fallen icicles. His weapon fell to his side, a sinister omen.
"You're not going anywhere, D," he said, words sharp and cold like fallen icicles. His weapon fell to his side, a sinister omen.
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DerArknight
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"Tsk."
That was it. Daenerys wasn't planning on landing on another announcement. One was necessary to go home. Two would make her stand out among the other killers. Three would make everyone think she was playing and a high priority threat.
But even less was she planning to let anyone, even Abhi, walk over her like this. D had seen it before. Never again.
Without any warning, she swung the khopesh, aiming for Abhi's arm holding the makeshift-weapon.
That was it. Daenerys wasn't planning on landing on another announcement. One was necessary to go home. Two would make her stand out among the other killers. Three would make everyone think she was playing and a high priority threat.
But even less was she planning to let anyone, even Abhi, walk over her like this. D had seen it before. Never again.
Without any warning, she swung the khopesh, aiming for Abhi's arm holding the makeshift-weapon.
Hook, line, sinker.
Abhishek grinned and stepped effortlessly out of the way of her cursory swing—he'd expected it, of course. That was his plan from the start. D had taken the bait. She must have wanted to bite down on him, but she'd only caught herself on the hook of his line. Now, all he had to do was reel in, and she'd be a fish out of water—drowning on dry land.
He pulled the weapon up, held it tight, and lifted it. With one step, two, three steps, he was within breathing distance of the girl, left wide open by her wide swing. Then, like a star batter at home plate, he swung for her head with as much power as his arms could muster. As quick as a bolt of lightning, five sets of sharp points rocketed toward her head.
Abhishek grinned and stepped effortlessly out of the way of her cursory swing—he'd expected it, of course. That was his plan from the start. D had taken the bait. She must have wanted to bite down on him, but she'd only caught herself on the hook of his line. Now, all he had to do was reel in, and she'd be a fish out of water—drowning on dry land.
He pulled the weapon up, held it tight, and lifted it. With one step, two, three steps, he was within breathing distance of the girl, left wide open by her wide swing. Then, like a star batter at home plate, he swung for her head with as much power as his arms could muster. As quick as a bolt of lightning, five sets of sharp points rocketed toward her head.
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DerArknight
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... and that was what Daenerys got for getting emotional. A DIY-mace to the head.
Or rather, to the left side of her face.
What saved her from getting completely skewered was that Abhi was a tad too slow, allowing her to bring up her arms in defense. The impact felt like it should have shattered a few bones, but she was fine.
Ecxept for the part where one of the stars embedded itself into her cheek, even scratching her tongue.
Pain exploded in her mouth like the opposite of a tasty meal. In a knee-jerk reaction, she moved her head to the right. Ripping the blade out widened the cut. And the pain. And the anger.
"SCREW YOU!"
This time, D swung with full force.
Or rather, to the left side of her face.
What saved her from getting completely skewered was that Abhi was a tad too slow, allowing her to bring up her arms in defense. The impact felt like it should have shattered a few bones, but she was fine.
Ecxept for the part where one of the stars embedded itself into her cheek, even scratching her tongue.
Pain exploded in her mouth like the opposite of a tasty meal. In a knee-jerk reaction, she moved her head to the right. Ripping the blade out widened the cut. And the pain. And the anger.
"SCREW YOU!"
This time, D swung with full force.
It was so easy.
Abhishek had expected something different than this—something more. But, instead, he found himself landing a clean hit. It was almost a disappointment. But he couldn't exactly complain. An easy kill made one point scored, and then, he could ride it out and do as he pleased, like this was some highfalutin island vacation under maritime law.
It was so easy; emphasis on the 'was.'
Then, suddenly, it wasn't. Anger was expected, of course. But this level of sheer strength—or, just as accurately, the 'shear' strength—was the furthest thing from his mind. The only thing that stopped him from being more-or-less bisected was a jolt back, but the blade still tore into his side, embedded like an image on the left side of a webpage.
Abhishek knew from the moment of the impact that this was massive damage. How much so? He had no idea. For all of his previous posturing to the contrary, he was no doctor—that was a certainty. The adrenaline rush was so powerful that he couldn't even gauge the pain yet, and the world was so hazy that he couldn't make out the details.
A valuable lesson, he supposed—don't play with your food. Suddenly, what seemed like an easy kill, cut and dry, had turned to life or death, with him on the chopping board. But though he was down, he wasn't quite out yet. He dropped the weapon at his side and lunged with his hands straight for the neck. He wasn't going to die here.
Like before, it had become a matter of time. And, above all else, Abhishek knew:
Seconds were cheap. Minutes were expensive.
Survival was priceless.
Abhishek had expected something different than this—something more. But, instead, he found himself landing a clean hit. It was almost a disappointment. But he couldn't exactly complain. An easy kill made one point scored, and then, he could ride it out and do as he pleased, like this was some highfalutin island vacation under maritime law.
It was so easy; emphasis on the 'was.'
Then, suddenly, it wasn't. Anger was expected, of course. But this level of sheer strength—or, just as accurately, the 'shear' strength—was the furthest thing from his mind. The only thing that stopped him from being more-or-less bisected was a jolt back, but the blade still tore into his side, embedded like an image on the left side of a webpage.
Abhishek knew from the moment of the impact that this was massive damage. How much so? He had no idea. For all of his previous posturing to the contrary, he was no doctor—that was a certainty. The adrenaline rush was so powerful that he couldn't even gauge the pain yet, and the world was so hazy that he couldn't make out the details.
A valuable lesson, he supposed—don't play with your food. Suddenly, what seemed like an easy kill, cut and dry, had turned to life or death, with him on the chopping board. But though he was down, he wasn't quite out yet. He dropped the weapon at his side and lunged with his hands straight for the neck. He wasn't going to die here.
Like before, it had become a matter of time. And, above all else, Abhishek knew:
Seconds were cheap. Minutes were expensive.
Survival was priceless.
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DerArknight
- Posts: 486
- Joined: Sat Mar 06, 2021 10:52 am
The khopesh found its target in Abhi's torso. Too low to hit his heart or most organs, but he still had to be hurting.
And hurting he seemingly did. Enough to drop his weapon to the ground. For a moment, Daenerys hoped he would do the correct thing and back off. Those hopes were quickly dashed when Abhi lunged for her throat.
His first attempt was unsuccessful, but still caused D to take a step back. Abhi followed, in part because the khopesh was still in his body. He lunged again, his fingertips scratching her neck. And Daenerys did what she really hadn't wanted to do.
She twisted the khopesh.
Instantly the flow of blood leaving Abhi accelerated as the blade being moved widened the wound considerably. It also caused the khopesh to be freed from him, but it didn't matter.
The bloody work was done.
And hurting he seemingly did. Enough to drop his weapon to the ground. For a moment, Daenerys hoped he would do the correct thing and back off. Those hopes were quickly dashed when Abhi lunged for her throat.
His first attempt was unsuccessful, but still caused D to take a step back. Abhi followed, in part because the khopesh was still in his body. He lunged again, his fingertips scratching her neck. And Daenerys did what she really hadn't wanted to do.
She twisted the khopesh.
Instantly the flow of blood leaving Abhi accelerated as the blade being moved widened the wound considerably. It also caused the khopesh to be freed from him, but it didn't matter.
The bloody work was done.
Abhishek's fingernails—once carefully trimmed, now grown out slightly, still sharp to the touch—grazed against her neck like little spikes as he tried to strangle her with his thin hands. Eyes darted, wild, vision a flurry amidst the rush, like looking through a spyglass into a tornado's wind. The blood spilled from him like a stuck pig.
Seconds were cheap.
He pushed her down in a desperate charge, sending them both hurtling toward the ground like young meteors. His hands still clasped her neck, as if it was the face of a cliff, and squeezed, squeezed, squeezed tighter, as hard as he could. Then, he spotted something, and his leg jutted forth and sent the khopesh out of her hand.
Minutes were expensive.
Abhishek could start to feel the thundering pang in his side. He wondered if she was hurting as badly as he was. Still, through the pain, he flashed a rictus grin. The adrenaline was still going, and it felt good, great, grand, like medicine in his veins. But he knew that it was no substitute for blood. He'd have to leave her for the vultures.
Survival was priceless.
Seconds were cheap.
He pushed her down in a desperate charge, sending them both hurtling toward the ground like young meteors. His hands still clasped her neck, as if it was the face of a cliff, and squeezed, squeezed, squeezed tighter, as hard as he could. Then, he spotted something, and his leg jutted forth and sent the khopesh out of her hand.
Minutes were expensive.
Abhishek could start to feel the thundering pang in his side. He wondered if she was hurting as badly as he was. Still, through the pain, he flashed a rictus grin. The adrenaline was still going, and it felt good, great, grand, like medicine in his veins. But he knew that it was no substitute for blood. He'd have to leave her for the vultures.
Survival was priceless.
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DerArknight
- Posts: 486
- Joined: Sat Mar 06, 2021 10:52 am
Everything happened rapidly.
Despite bleeding profusely, Abhi somehow managed to tackle Daenerys to the ground, hands on her neck. Her attempt at swinnging the khopesh earner a knee to the arm, pinning it down.
It was then that D saw the crazy smile on her opponent's face and realized that this wasn't Abhi.
Abhishek Panicker was a foolish smartass, often too loud for his own good and to communistic for most of his peers. But he was not what D would have designated as "malicious". He liked to rile people up, but that was it. He wouldn't smile as if it was his tenth brithday while trying to murder someone.
Maybe something had happened while they were separated on this island. Or maybe she had never really known him. Whatever the case, Abhi wasn't here anymore. There was just this monster masquerading as him.
And her left fist crashing right into the monster's face.
And her full power shoving him off.
And her right arm going for the khopesh once more.
Despite bleeding profusely, Abhi somehow managed to tackle Daenerys to the ground, hands on her neck. Her attempt at swinnging the khopesh earner a knee to the arm, pinning it down.
It was then that D saw the crazy smile on her opponent's face and realized that this wasn't Abhi.
Abhishek Panicker was a foolish smartass, often too loud for his own good and to communistic for most of his peers. But he was not what D would have designated as "malicious". He liked to rile people up, but that was it. He wouldn't smile as if it was his tenth brithday while trying to murder someone.
Maybe something had happened while they were separated on this island. Or maybe she had never really known him. Whatever the case, Abhi wasn't here anymore. There was just this monster masquerading as him.
And her left fist crashing right into the monster's face.
And her full power shoving him off.
And her right arm going for the khopesh once more.
Abhishek, at that moment, still thought that this was a fight he could win—not one he'd have to escape from. He didn't realize the situation as it was until the blows started coming, until her fist nearly broke his button nose, until her two hands pressed into his torso and pushed him back, onto the hard ground, onto the cold pavement.
And, from his perspective, that had, a moment before, seemed reasonable. The girl was three inches shorter and over ten pounds lighter, so he had the advantage, except that he hadn't accounted for one all-important factor: muscular strength. She didn't look as strong as she was. It just didn't strike him until she had struck him.
It wasn't like his own form either, aesthetically crafted and worthless for a fight. It was a swimmer's physique, powerful and dense, more prepared for this fight than he could've ever hoped to be. When the needle dropped, he realized, all at once, that this wasn't a fight to win—it was the jaws of death, and he was fighting to pry them open.
Survival was priceless.
She went for the khopesh, and Abhishek jutted forward as if to do the same, but a flash of pain in his side stopped him in his tracks before he had the chance. The wound would catch up to him, sooner or later, if he didn't treat it—or, maybe, even if he did. It was hard to say one way or the other in the haze and the heat of the ongoing battle.
And minutes were expensive.
So he'd settle for seconds.
His left hand fled to his pockets and pulled out something—his wallet, plain and unadorned, bound in leather, without so much as a mark or notch to distinguish it from any other. He passed it between his hands quickly, then, as fast as he could, reeled it back and threw it, like Corbin's boot, without so much as a moment to aim.
Luckily for him, Abhishek didn't need the extra help. His throw hit D in the face—the second of two hits in that manner—right across her eyes, blocking her view before she could grab the weapon. It was a surprise that it worked—but he wouldn't complain. He wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially when he could ride it away.
He couldn't resist one last taunt, though. Through the pain and gritted teeth, he murmured, "The debt, paid—" then a pause for the pang, "—paid in full." He grinned again, felt his teeth grind against each other, but didn't care. Escape was within his grasp. One lunge and he had his weapon back, and then, clutching his wound, he fled.
He hadn't gotten his kill, but there was always tomorrow.
S031: ABHISHEK PANICKER — CONTINUED IN "A Brick Joke"
And, from his perspective, that had, a moment before, seemed reasonable. The girl was three inches shorter and over ten pounds lighter, so he had the advantage, except that he hadn't accounted for one all-important factor: muscular strength. She didn't look as strong as she was. It just didn't strike him until she had struck him.
It wasn't like his own form either, aesthetically crafted and worthless for a fight. It was a swimmer's physique, powerful and dense, more prepared for this fight than he could've ever hoped to be. When the needle dropped, he realized, all at once, that this wasn't a fight to win—it was the jaws of death, and he was fighting to pry them open.
Survival was priceless.
She went for the khopesh, and Abhishek jutted forward as if to do the same, but a flash of pain in his side stopped him in his tracks before he had the chance. The wound would catch up to him, sooner or later, if he didn't treat it—or, maybe, even if he did. It was hard to say one way or the other in the haze and the heat of the ongoing battle.
And minutes were expensive.
So he'd settle for seconds.
His left hand fled to his pockets and pulled out something—his wallet, plain and unadorned, bound in leather, without so much as a mark or notch to distinguish it from any other. He passed it between his hands quickly, then, as fast as he could, reeled it back and threw it, like Corbin's boot, without so much as a moment to aim.
Luckily for him, Abhishek didn't need the extra help. His throw hit D in the face—the second of two hits in that manner—right across her eyes, blocking her view before she could grab the weapon. It was a surprise that it worked—but he wouldn't complain. He wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially when he could ride it away.
He couldn't resist one last taunt, though. Through the pain and gritted teeth, he murmured, "The debt, paid—" then a pause for the pang, "—paid in full." He grinned again, felt his teeth grind against each other, but didn't care. Escape was within his grasp. One lunge and he had his weapon back, and then, clutching his wound, he fled.
He hadn't gotten his kill, but there was always tomorrow.
S031: ABHISHEK PANICKER — CONTINUED IN "A Brick Joke"