As Good as Dead
Posted: Sat Aug 25, 2018 1:04 am
((Finn Grant, start))
The first thing Finn noticed was something hard and jagged poking into the middle of his back. With his eyes still shut, Finn let out a low groan before rolling off of the object and onto his front. Something was odd about the surface he was lying on; it was hard and cold with a strong earthy smell then filled his nostrils as he took in a deep breath. With his face creasing in confusion, Finn opened his eyes and his vision automatically blurred. Finn squinted as he tried to focus in on the hard surface and began to see a huge sheet of green. As his vision cleared, he started to make out that the green sheet wasn't in fact a sheet at all, but was instead a field of grass.
Pushing himself off of the ground, Finn sat bolt upright and took in his surroundings. To his left there was a beautiful clearing and to his right was a large, dense forest. He looked beside him and saw that the object that was lying on was a gnarled twig, but what caught his attention even more was a black duffel bag with B011 written on it situated a couple of feet away from him. Seeing the bag jogged Finn's memory of what had happened, the flight, being handcuffed to a chair in a room, Mr Davidge being killed the collars. His hand flung up to his neck and felt the metallic collar secured tightly around him. This was it, he was in Survival of the Fittest.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!" Finn shouted as his eyes began to well up. How could this be happening to him? Survival of the Fittest was supposed to have ended years ago, it was supposed to be safe.
Looking back at the duffel bag, Finn remembered what that man had said about them. This was kill or be killed and if Finn didn't have a good weapon then he was as good as dead. As he began to crawl towards the bag, Finn's thoughts went towards his friends. Miranda, Mara, Kat, Stacey he hoped that they were okay. Upon reaching the bag, Finn unzipped it and began rummaging through its contents frantically. His hands struck something plastic and as he peered inside the bag, Finn saw that it was a megaphone. Pulling it out of the bag, Finn stared at the megaphone in disbelief. This couldn't be his weapon. Finn picked up the bag and turned it upside down, emptying out all of its contents on the ground. Finn began spreading the bags contents across the ground but found nothing that resembled a weapon.
Finn sat back in defeat, burying his head in between his legs as tears rolled down his face. As if his day couldn't get any worse, he was now left with no protection whatsoever. He was a goner, he might as well hang a sign around his neck saying "shoot me now".
After a few minutes, Finn brought his head up and wiped his eyes. Sitting here crying wasn't going to help anything, he had to take things into his own hands. Finn crawled over to the bundle of objects he had emptied out on the floor and started to pack them back up in the bag. When he finished, he stood up and flung the bag over his left shoulder and began heading into the woods.
"Time to find myself a better weapon."
((Finn Grant continued in No Rest for the Wicked))
The first thing Finn noticed was something hard and jagged poking into the middle of his back. With his eyes still shut, Finn let out a low groan before rolling off of the object and onto his front. Something was odd about the surface he was lying on; it was hard and cold with a strong earthy smell then filled his nostrils as he took in a deep breath. With his face creasing in confusion, Finn opened his eyes and his vision automatically blurred. Finn squinted as he tried to focus in on the hard surface and began to see a huge sheet of green. As his vision cleared, he started to make out that the green sheet wasn't in fact a sheet at all, but was instead a field of grass.
Pushing himself off of the ground, Finn sat bolt upright and took in his surroundings. To his left there was a beautiful clearing and to his right was a large, dense forest. He looked beside him and saw that the object that was lying on was a gnarled twig, but what caught his attention even more was a black duffel bag with B011 written on it situated a couple of feet away from him. Seeing the bag jogged Finn's memory of what had happened, the flight, being handcuffed to a chair in a room, Mr Davidge being killed the collars. His hand flung up to his neck and felt the metallic collar secured tightly around him. This was it, he was in Survival of the Fittest.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!" Finn shouted as his eyes began to well up. How could this be happening to him? Survival of the Fittest was supposed to have ended years ago, it was supposed to be safe.
Looking back at the duffel bag, Finn remembered what that man had said about them. This was kill or be killed and if Finn didn't have a good weapon then he was as good as dead. As he began to crawl towards the bag, Finn's thoughts went towards his friends. Miranda, Mara, Kat, Stacey he hoped that they were okay. Upon reaching the bag, Finn unzipped it and began rummaging through its contents frantically. His hands struck something plastic and as he peered inside the bag, Finn saw that it was a megaphone. Pulling it out of the bag, Finn stared at the megaphone in disbelief. This couldn't be his weapon. Finn picked up the bag and turned it upside down, emptying out all of its contents on the ground. Finn began spreading the bags contents across the ground but found nothing that resembled a weapon.
Finn sat back in defeat, burying his head in between his legs as tears rolled down his face. As if his day couldn't get any worse, he was now left with no protection whatsoever. He was a goner, he might as well hang a sign around his neck saying "shoot me now".
After a few minutes, Finn brought his head up and wiped his eyes. Sitting here crying wasn't going to help anything, he had to take things into his own hands. Finn crawled over to the bundle of objects he had emptied out on the floor and started to pack them back up in the bag. When he finished, he stood up and flung the bag over his left shoulder and began heading into the woods.
"Time to find myself a better weapon."
((Finn Grant continued in No Rest for the Wicked))