Privyet
Survivor
Privyet
Survivor
Joined: March 23rd, 2015, 7:07 am

August 15th, 2017, 3:17 am #11

What was there to say? In the face of insurmountable horror and tragedy, what words could suffice? With his hilariously simplistic motive discarded, anything that could justify what had been done vanished. So what could he say?

Nothing.

There was simply nothing for him to say - he had played the game and, as a result, proved his own inhumanity. The choice was always his.

Matt Moradi stood up and bent down to pick up the gun.

Looking at Nate, Matt spoke quickly. He had the eyes of someone who was desperate. "It's too late for me." He swallowed.

"You need to get out of here.. off the island. Alright?" Slowly, he started to unsling his rifle. He placed it on the ground in front of him.

"I can't explain why I did this.. or why anyone else did. I guess I'm just a bad person." Slowly, he started to unbutton his flannel jacket.

"You're not.. I, uh, don't really know how you did it.. but I figure there's less than ten people left right now." He looked over to the camera.

"Somehow, you've managed to make it this far without killing anyone.. you remember the rules, though, right?" He finished unbuttoning his jacket and took it off, slowly.

"You have to kill someone.. take my gun. Just make sure it's in self defense." He took a step forward and held out his jacket.

"I want you to have this. It's pretty cold, and.. uh, well, I won't need it. I'm giving up."
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Slam
Mr. Danya
Slam
Mr. Danya
Joined: August 11th, 2009, 7:39 pm

August 15th, 2017, 6:34 am #12

Nate raised his head. He listened. Looked at Matt as he poured his heart out.

He wanted to interrupt, but he couldn’t. There was nothing to argue with, or disagree over. Matt was admitting what Nate had been thinking about him, would’ve told him in due time. He hated to admit it, but he knew it was true.

So why? Why was Matt still trying to help him, if he was such a terrible person? He had all the guns, all the experience, he could’ve ended this as soon as he’d started. He didn’t have to stand there, listen to Nate, let him punch him. He could’ve just kept going, doing what everyone wanted.

Nate stared down at the jacket held out between them. He reached out, and took it.

He looked back at Matt. The first person he’d met on the island, the person he’d wanted to help, the person he’d come to hate. Before all this, they hadn’t been anything, had never met. Now?

He ran forwards, and hugged him tight.

“Don’t talk like that! You don’t have to die, or kill people, or anything like that! I don’t care what you’ve done, ok? I don’t care, so just stop it already!”
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Privyet
Survivor
Privyet
Survivor
Joined: March 23rd, 2015, 7:07 am

August 15th, 2017, 7:22 am #13

Matt looked down at Nate, putting a hand on his shoulder. He remembered that almost two weeks ago, he had woken up outside of the chapel. He found Nate inside, crying. He felt bad for him, so he tried - terribly, in all honesty - to calm him down. Nate proposed that they go for a walk. Then they ended up here. Ben was there. He hadn't seen Ben in a few days. He knew that he was dead. He'd heard the announcement.

Quietly, he started to talk again. "I need you to be strong for everyone who wasn't. I need you to prove them wrong. Prove me wrong."

Matt Moradi started crying. Of course Matt Moradi started crying. He was terrible, and a murderer, and he was going to die.
B024: Matthew Moradi - Deceased
9 Students Remaining
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Espi
Winner
Joined: November 20th, 2012, 9:32 pm

August 15th, 2017, 8:01 am #14

((Blair Moore continued from Takasago))

Sleeping in a creepy asylum had been a wonderfully awful experience, but waking up to announcements that day had made it worse somehow.

Caedyn had been killed, by that suspicious girl Fiyori, and even Alba had killed that Emma girl (though Emma had killed someone the same day herself). It was all very elaborate and Blair wouldn’t care about any of it if it wasn’t for Caedyn.

So, why did she feel disappointed that Caedyn died? The thought had occurred to her only as she found herself near the storage closet door. Caedyn was, objectively, a horrible person; she’d even killed again that same day. Cass Prince was a nobody to Blair, but they hadn’t killed or anything. Caedyn was definitely the aggressor. But all that meant that it was good she was dead, no matter who did the deed.

Blair kept finding herself picturing Caedyn’s stupid dreadlocks and her smug face. And all this time, ever since seeing her in the library with Rene, it had felt like she was going to shoot that bitch. It was a fairytale, a shitty Young Adult novel, where the alpha bitch got taken down by the spunky heroine. She really should have known better, of course.

Whatever. She’d outlived that skank, and now there were only a few people left. Judging from Danya, this was nearly the end. Probably only a dozen or less people alive, and Blair could hear at least two of them in the ‘closet’.

The door had been an obstacle, since she didn’t want to make noise for obvious reasons. Luckily the two seemed to be talking and/or crying, and she wasn’t sure they noticed. Her breathing was slow, controlled, silent. She moved very, very slowly, making sure to keep a close eye on each corner.

There. Around the doorway. She spied two people, either embracing or close to it. The back of one was turned to her; she tried to remember which guys were left. This one didn’t look like Jae, and the only other in her memory was Matt, who had just won an award.

She’d been intent on killing in the interview rooms, but had been outnumbered, flanked by inattention. She had her back to a box now, and the boys were still in range. The one facing her was too short to identify facially, but that clued her in by itself. Nate Turner was a tiny, timid kid, and that he was still alive was pretty impressive for him. She had no idea if shooting Matt would hit or kill Nate. It felt cruel, the idea that she could take two birds with one stone. Nate hadn’t done anything to anyone here.

Fuck it, none of them deserved this. Everyone knew that from Day 1. If it wasn’t her, it would be someone else. Maybe she’d be doing him a favor, if it was quick. Blair raised the machine pistol in her hand, steadied it with her other hand, and held it against her shoulder for good measure.

The recoil was strong, but she was prepared enough for it that she didn’t hurt herself. The spray of blood in front of her confirmed her ability to hit a still target only a few yards away.

She didn’t want to stick around and see the aftermath, and if either person survived she was even less interested in dawdling. Blair oriented herself in a brief moment, dashing back the way she came and slamming the storage closet’s door behind her. She took a moment to catch her breath, easing her lungs into normal function, and began to walk off. She’d need to find a place to reload and regroup. No time to rest on her ill-achieved victory. A tiny blossoming of pride filled her chest, which immediately wilted but did not truly die in spite of the overcasting of criticism and doubt inside.

Blair wanted to live, it was that simple. With nothing to rely on but herself, she was going to do anything it took.

((Blair Moore continued in A History of Bad Decisions))
V5: Cut Short
Theodore Fletcher
Nina Clarke
Gwen O'Connor

V6: Broken Down
Alice Baker (->Aura)
Henry Spencer
Blair Moore

V7: Unprepared
Rhonda Lawson[/b
Toby Underwood
Paloma Salt
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Slam
Mr. Danya
Slam
Mr. Danya
Joined: August 11th, 2009, 7:39 pm

August 16th, 2017, 8:51 pm #15

Nate kept crying into Matt’s chest. He couldn’t do this to him, not after everything he’d done. He couldn’t just say he’d given up, that it was all up to him. Nate couldn’t handle that, he wasn’t strong enough. He couldn’t lose Matt.

But of course, he did. He heard the roar of the gun, the sound of bullets tearing into flesh. He felt Matt’s blood pour down over his arms from the bullet holes in his back.

He couldn’t move, but he had to look up. He saw Matt. He saw that there was nothing left.

Matt fell, because Nate couldn’t hold him up. He hit the floor, and lay there. That was it.

Nate screamed.

He fell on top of Matt, grabbed at his shirt, screamed his name. He held on as tight as he could, he did everything he could think to do, but none of it mattered.

Everything fell away, as he screamed Matt’s name.
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Slam
Mr. Danya
Slam
Mr. Danya
Joined: August 11th, 2009, 7:39 pm

August 28th, 2017, 9:12 pm #16


He was standing in front of the door. It was time to go.

He hadn’t done anything with Matt’s body. There was nothing he could do that would even come close to representing what Matt was to Nate. There were no words, no gestures, nothing. He’d tried to pray, but there weren’t any prayers. Matt was dead, and he couldn’t do anything to change that.

The basket of chicken wings had been reduced to bones. The aroma had been unmistakable, just standing obnoxiously amidst the smell of death that had permeated the room forever. He’d eaten a basket of chicken wings whilst surrounded by dead bodies. He didn’t know how he’d done it, and he didn’t want to. There was an aftertaste stuck in his mouth. It was unpleasant.

He might’ve passed out at some point, but he wasn’t really sure. It had all just blurred together, his sense of time lost.

He’d seen the gun. He’d thought about it.

Now it was in his hand. He knew he wouldn’t use it, not for that. He didn’t think he could. He wanted to, more than he wanted anything. He couldn’t keep doing this.

But Matt had said he had to go home. Matt had wanted him to live.

So that was all there was to it.

He gripped the handle of the pistol tight, the metal pressing back. He didn’t know the first thing about guns.

The machete was in his other hand. He’d wanted to leave it, but he couldn’t. This was what he’d decided to do, the second he pulled it out of Jon’s body. He’d told himself he’d use it, even if he hadn’t tried to use it on Matt. Not that it mattered. And like Matt said, if he wanted to go home, he had to kill someone.

He wanted to go home. At least, that’s what he’d been telling himself for the past few days. He didn’t want to deal with this anymore.

If he went home, he wouldn’t have to. That's what he wanted to believe, that there had to be a way out. For his sake, and for Matt's, he had to believe. There had to be a point.

He’d left his daypack. He was too tired to keep lugging it around, and it was way too big for him anyway. He didn’t need it anymore. Like Matt said, there weren’t many people left, so this probably wasn’t going to last much longer. If he forgot where a danger zone was because he didn’t have his map, well, that would be how it ended. If he got too thirsty and died, or starved, well, that would be how it ended.

There was one more thing he was taking from the storage closet, which he never in his life no matter how long wanted to return to, and that was Matt’s jacket. He’d had to roll up the sleeves a tonne, and it draped far past where it should’ve been, but he wasn’t going to take it off. It was the only thing he had left. It was Matt's embrace, wrapped around him. He needed it to keep standing.

He left the storage closet. It was time to go.

((Nate Turner to be concluded))
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