Alice never took her eyes off of Bunny.
She watched as genuine fear settled into the girl, not so easily shaken off as last time. She listened as Bunny spoke and heard the real nervousness in her voice; it was easy enough to recognise, she had heard it in her own voice often enough. She felt relief as Bunny gave up on saying anything and turned to leave, hurrying towards the door. Alice almost felt like she could relax but tensed up immediately as the other girl stopped and turned back to her.
“If you’re gonna keep a-acting like that, guess I’ll be hearing your name on the announcements soon, one way or another.”
No. I’m acting like this so I don’t have to hear my name on an announcement ever again. And hopefully so that no-one else will hear it either.
If Bunny had stayed, if she had attacked, either she or Alice would be dead. Most likely it would be Alice, but there was always a chance it could be the other way around. She couldn’t be certain that her promise to never take the safety off again could survive the fear of being attacked like that.
Driving the other girl away through threats and intimidation was the only way to keep them both alive.
She was gone now and Alice was alone again. Alone with only dead bodies for company.
Alice didn’t move for a long time, standing stock still with her crossbow aimed resolutely at the doorway, like she expected Bunny to come rushing back in with a battle scream and that frying pan held over her head. Actually, her muscles were just too tense to move, she had locked up. Over time her adrenaline faded and she relaxed piece by piece, arms dropping to her sides and shoulders falling forward into a slouch, legs buckling and her knees hitting the floor with a thud. She dropped like a puppet with its strings cut in slow motion; she felt drained, so tired, and every muscle screamed its agony to her.
Her breathing was laboured, her heart pounded a rapid tempo in her chest and there were tears in her eyes again. She couldn’t even cry anymore, the tears just lingered at the edges of her vision. She felt like she hadn’t stopped all day, jumping from one situation to the next with no chance to recover; she had no water left for tears, no energy to run and no clarity to her thoughts.
Nevertheless she stood and managed to coerce her body into walking around the counter into the dining area of the restaurant. Luckily, neither the killer girl nor Bunny had found her bag; it was still right where she had left it. She dropped unceremoniously onto the floor next to its hiding place, dragging its heavy weight towards her with both hands. Opening it she grabbed a clear plastic water bottle and drained it of its contents in moments. The she grabbed something with the subway logo on it and consumed the sandwich without even noticing what was on it.
Feeling more like herself if a little sick at suddenly intaking what, for her, was a lot of food, she stood up and dragged her bag back into the kitchen area finding a secluded corner where she was hidden from sight. The bag was lumpy and hard, not to mention the coarseness of the material, but it was the closest thing to a pillow she would find here. She pushed it up into the corner and lay down with her head on it.
She closed her eyes and immediately sank down into the darkness.
Her sleep was, thankfully, dreamless but fitful. Despite her tiredness, the kind of deep boned tiredness that means you can sleep anywhere, she couldn’t stay asleep for more than half an hour at a time; not with the cold, hard floor beneath her, the lumpy bag under her head causing her more discomfort than just the floor would have, and the sudden, unexplained noises which made her heart leap into her throat and her eyes dart around the room whenever they happened.
She had finally settled down into something resembling a deep sleep, fatigue finally conquering all other obstacles to rest, when the announcement blared from somewhere inside the room. That was admittedly a downside of being indoors in this game; the advantages of having a roof over your head and walls surrounding you outweighed whatever you got from being outside in the cold, but at least outside you were a safe distance away from the speakers when the far too chipper host of this game inevitably made herself known.
The voice of Rizty Daggers, though Alice was certain this wasn’t her given name, was too hard to ignore so instead Alice listened, bleary eyed and groggy, to the disturbingly long list of names. Like last time most of them didn’t ring any bells in her memory; Alice hadn’t paid much attention to the people at her school and she had assumed this went both ways, but the girl earlier had known her name was Alice. Apparently people paid more attention to Alice than she paid to them; this caused a strangely nostalgic rush of embarrassment to warm her cheeks, but also caused some worry in the girl whose name had appeared on the last announcement.
She perked up a little at the name Shadi. Recognising it as the name of the girl who she had almost witness beat two people to death. Thinking of this made her remember the people she had killed, or more specifically the fact that their bodies were still in this building with her. It was an uncomfortable thought and one which made her want to leave as soon as possible.
The next name that caused a surge of recognition was her own, or at least her surname. Someone with the name Young had died; irrationally she began to wonder if she had any relatives named Naomi, but no-one came to mind.
She made a mental note of which areas had been designated as off limits for the next portion of the game, very much in favour of not exploding, and began to collect her belongings. A few minutes later she was gingerly stepping over the body of a girl she thought must have been called Sarah and left the building.
It didn’t appear to be as cold as it was yesterday and the sun was even making an appearance. The streaks of colour in the sky informed her that it was still fairly early in the morning however and there was still a biting wind that made her pull her cloak closer around herself. With her cloak clutched tightly in one hand and her crossbow in the other, Alice picked a random direction and set off into the slowly melting snow.
((Alice Young continued in It's Bad. We're Hit, Man, We Are Hit