Survival Of The Fittest

(Karen Nguyen, continued from Mistake)

The announcements had begun as she made her journey away from the research station. The first thing that stood out to her was that Julia had killed someone. She hadn’t seen her in what felt like a year, only it had been a couple of days.

Sure enough, her name and Maya’s name came up. And of course, no context was given. Now everyone was going to think she killed Maya, not by accident, but deliberately. Han will probably get a kick out of this.

“I’m so sorry,” Karen mumbled to herself, as if there was a slight chance that Maya’s spirit was in the aether.

Katelyn Graves was mentioned again. That girl seems unstoppable. And Juanita Reid was mentioned twice. Wasn’t one enough? One kill. That’s all it took to ensure you could be free from this game. Why would anyone think it necessary to build up a body count like this?

Finally, Julia’s name was given the “Best Kill Award.” She got a meal and a new weapon. What a sick joke. But more importantly, the mines and it’s subsequent areas were considered danger zones now. Karen made a mental note to stay away from there.

((Victor Grail continued from The Sun... ))

Motherfucker

Victor thought that again as he once again was alone. Oh, yes, people died. K was down, so was Andrew, and Fred, and a whole bunch of other people that he couldn't think of right now. Fitz was gone, if not dead, but definitely not with Victor.

So now he was back in familiar territory, albeit with slightly less paranoia than the last time (thank you Jim) when he noticed the familiar face.

Karen - the one that actually still had the right to be called by her name. The one who had simply been gullible rather than outright malevolent. She'd just killed someone, though, but then again, the people who had killed were really starting to collect kills.

"Hello again."

Karen turned to see a familiar face. Victor. She hadn't seen him since Han killed Ashlee. He's probably aware that she had killed Maya. Everyone who was still alive is probably aware she killed Maya. There's no use in denying it. So if Victor asked, she'll try to explain herself.

"Hello," said Karen, "How have you been?"

Victor just nodded at Karen. "Been okay, all things considered." He looked around.

"How you been?"

“Well, you heard the announcement, haven’t you?,” Karen said.

She took a deep breath and sighed heavily.

“When I left after what happened to Ashlee,” she began, “I ended up at the research station. I met Maya and a few others, but it was mostly me and her.”

Karen wiped a tear from her cheek.

“I was stupid,” she continued, “I dropped my gun, and then, that’s when Maya got scared. I tried to keep the gun away from her, but she grabbed it. That’s when…”

Karen trailed off. The tears just kept coming.

“I didn’t mean to do it,” Karen whimpered, “I didn’t mean to.

Victor wasn't used to this shit with tears. His private rule was that crying was only allowed if you were chopping onions, got pepper sprayed, got hit in the dick by anything traveling at more than ten miles an hour, witnessed your team win the championships, or found out that Leanna Bartlett got married. He just lowered his eyes.

"You ... did what you thought you had to," he said. "I'm not going to ask any questions. I'm not judging." He really couldn't. "Just ... take your time."

God damn. Why was this so embarrassing?

“But, I…”

Karen wanted to say that she didn’t have any intention to kill Maya. It was an accident. But what did it matter? She was a murderer. She knew it. Victor knew it. Everyone on the island knew it. And everyone at home watching this game will know it. Including her parents.

Her parents. Karen realized that she hadn’t thought about them in a while. How would they feel about their daughter being declared a killer? Would they ever talk to her if she got home? Would she even be allowed to come home? After all there efforts to raise her, and mold her in their image, she ended up like this.

“My parents,” said Karen, “What will they think?”

Great. Now we going into psychological shit. Victor hadn't had the "privilege" of actually killing someone, although he'd been witness to Ashlee's death, it hadn't dawned on him.

"... I don't think they'd care. We're not exactly being given a choice here, and you aren't trying to bathe in the blood of your enemies or anything. You're trying to be good, and that should be enough."

"You haven't met my parents," said Karen, "They had high expectations for me. Once they learn what happened, I fear they might disown me."

Karen thought back to a dream she had a while back. In the dream, her parents had her back turned to her, and no matter how much she shouted, trying to get their attention, they couldn't hear her. But why?

Maybe they didn't want to give her their attention.

Maybe they were trying to ignore her.

Maybe they didn't want to be associated with her.

Maybe they wouldn't want to be known as parents to a killer, regardless of the circumstance.

They had done everything they could to make Karen follow the set path they believed was best for her. They wanted her to become a lawyer like them. They wanted Karen to attend the best law school after graduating high school. All those years of effort were likely going down the drain now that Karen got dragged into this death game, and ended up playing it, whether she intended to or not.

"I don't think I have a future," said Karen, "Whether my parents forgive me or not."

"That's ... that's bullshit." Victor's eyes widened at that. One thing his dad (biological) taught him was that at some point, you had to do what you needed to do, and fuck everyone else's opinion. So long as you didn't break any laws or do anything too bad, it was okay, even if they wouldn't have necessarily made that decision.

"No. No, no, no." Victor muttered. "If you make it out, you have a future. If they don't forgive you, they can fuck right off."

Karen appreciated Victor’s attempt to dissuade her negative thoughts. However, she couldn’t handle the fact that she’d taken a life. That kind of knowledge would haunt her for the rest of her life. Karen took her gun out of her coat pocket.

“Have you killed anyone yet?,” Karen asked Victor.

Both men who could consider themselves Victor's father could state their views on living in the phrase "keep fighting." For his biological father, it was the scrap, the fight to get what was yours and to never give up. His stepfather, on the other hand, had very strong Catholic beliefs, personally admitting his fervent belief that all life was sacred from cradle to grave, and that the acts of abortion, euthanasia, and suicide were sins. No matter how one cut it, Victor did agree with the sentiment that it was right to fight for one's life and their needs.

As such, his reaction to Karen's question was one of

"Wait, what the fuck?"

He had a feeling about what Karen was asking. He didn't like it at all.

"N-no. Of course I fucking haven't."

"You can't go home unless you kill someone, right?," Karen asked.

Karen handed the gun to Victor.

"I'm giving you a chance," Karen said, tears streaming down her cheeks, "If you kill me, then at the very least, you won't have to kill anyone else."

She could tell Victor was taken aback by this offer. She couldn't blame him. But, Karen felt it was the only way she could be redeemed.

"Please," Karen pleaded, "I can't live with myself."

Victor took the gun from Karen.

"Wait, wait. You're absolutely sure about this?"

Karen took hold of Victor's hand, and guided the barrel of the gun to her chest. She looked at him, seriousness in her tearful face.

"If I'm going to die, it'll be on my terms," said Karen, "You can have whatever supplies I have left."

She braced herself. She didn't know if it'd be quick and painless, or slow and painful. Hopefully the latter.