Survival Of The Fittest

"HEY!"

"HEY!"

"Can someone PLEASE help me out of here?!?"

((...walking a while, before being attracted to someones cries.))

Kathleen continued on with her friends. She decided to stop by, hearing what she thought was somebodies cries. She cupped her hands. Stammered.

"Eh-uh-" And yelled- "Where are you?! I hear you!!"

Kat had an itch in the back of her head. A pang of stress. Kat lost her friend somewhere along the way. But, maybe if she were to help this person.. well a trio is better than a duo!

"Oh, thank God-

"OVER HERE! IN THE CEMETERY! SOMEONE DUG UP A GRAVE AND I'M STUCK IN A HOLE!

"PLEASE! I DON'T WANNA DIE IN HERE!"

Oh shit. Oh...shit!

"Okay, okay! Keep talking! Keep making sound, I'm coming over to you!"

Kathleen would continue to follow the voices before, finally, peaking over the side of the hole.

"Are you alright? Hurt at all?!"

"I-I'm fine! Just, uh-bruised a bit!"

...

"Also bloody, but-I can explain, I promise!"

[[Finally cut to Jezzie Stark, standing in a hole, clothes noticeably splattered with blood, a desperate expression on her face.]]

"Please, just-before this place gets turned into a danger zone or something! I don't want my neck to explode!"

"Okay, okay. Grab my hand!"

Kathleen lays on the ground, giving herself leverage, and puts a hand down the hole to Jezzie.

"Let's go. Quick! We're in the open and I-I, well, you know! People!"

A small smile came to her face as she gripped the hand offered to her. The other gripped the edge of the hole, as a foot did its best to make and stay in a foothold.

"I know, I'm sorry, I just-I didn't know what else to do-thank you so much!"

If one paid enough attention as Jezzie worked to free herself, they might notice tears forming at the edges of her eyes, with no efforts made to blink them away.

And...pull!

"Alright. I have...friends nearby! Fuck, you carrying rocks in your backpack or something?"

And just keep on pulling until Kat pulls her new friend up.

"Wha-no! I just-"

Hesitation as she grunts, pulling herself up and further out of the hole as well.

"Have...supplies! Lots."

Then, seemingly, the metaphorical lightbulb turned on.

"I-I can share! As soon as we're safe, I'll split stuff with you and your friends! Promise!"

"Great! Awesome! We got stuff too - we're all happy to help you if you're hurt! I-I'm sure we know some first aid..!"

Pulling, pulling, heaving, and panting.

Heavy ass. Kat finally pulls her new friend out of the hole, standing by her.

"We're back by the Research Station. What's your name?"

Looking over at her.

Kathleen was met with the crack of a gunshot for an answer.

Suddenly Kathleen felt cold. Cold in a...hot way. Time felt as if it slowed down, as all the air in her lungs were forced out of her body, as the bullet cracked through her ribs, and put a hole in her left lung. She felt completely aware of everything that was happening - and exactly what's going wrong in her body - as the piece of lead exits through her back.

Kathleen felt herself falling backwards, back towards the hole she just rescued her new friend out of. 'Well, I guess now she isn't quite a friend,' she thought. Her neurons began to fire, as pain ripped through her entire chest. Broken bones, punctured lungs, ripped flesh. She felt...everything. In the same moment, she felt as if the pain was...peaceful? A strange relief was beginning to wash over her, one she did not have enough time left to begin to understand.

Kathleen continued to look her murderer in the eyes, as she fell back into the hole. Of course, her murderer would probably not notice, given how in her eyes this happened in but a single moment. Kats vision began to tunnel vision, literally in both ways, as her periphery was filled with the walls of Kathleen's tomb, and as the pain began putting her in shock.

Maybe I shouldn't have gone out alone. Maybe then I could've just hung out with Ellis and...what was her name?

As she asked her that question, the back of her head cracked against the hard floor of the grave. And with her consciousness completely slipped, her breathing would slow...

...until the void consumed the void. And all was nothing.

[KATHLEEN VOZELNIK, S087. DECEASED.]

She wasn’t sure when she realized she couldn’t try to play the hero anymore.

She knew it was after she fell into the hole. Even after everything with Prii and Amy, she still tried to justify and claim it didn’t make her a bad person, just a desperate one.

Even when she had planned to kill others, she tried to say it was okay, that she could explain to whatever audience was there that she wasn’t a bad person.

Maybe it was when she curled up in the coffin for the night, a blanket pulled close, believing she’d die in it the next day, the day after that at best, because it would definitely become a danger zone.

Could’ve been when she thought about how many classmates would miss her if she died there, only to come up with more names that would be happy for her death than upset.

Possibly when she waited for a new blip to show up on the tracker, praying it would be someone who didn’t know her for once.

If she was being honest, though, it was probably when she said that last line, knowing fully well that she wasn’t giving up a damn thing to this girl or her friends.

She wanted to live, and the only way to do that here was to kill.

As she stood before the open grave that was once again filled, she wanted to say as much to the dead girl. She deserved as much, didn’t she? An explanation? A statement? An excuse, at least?

But that just made her think of the others. She didn’t do that for Steve. She didn’t do that for Bill. She couldn’t do that for Madea. She hadn’t done it for Prii. And she definitely wouldn’t do it in the future. She left corpses to rot, and the most she said to people was before death.

Would it mean anything, doing it now? Would it actually make a difference? Or would it just be to make herself feel better? Another role to play, all so she could think of herself as anything but a bad person?

Ultimately, all Jezzie could do was sigh.

“I got nothing. Sorry.”

And with that, she turned and began walking, her face settling into the near scowl it wanted to be in.

There was a girl she needed to shoot in the face. And she wasn’t stopping until she did it.

[[Exit Jezzie Stark, gun staying in her hands rather than getting tucked into her skirt’s waistband again, and a determined look in her eyes.]]