His attack hadn't gone as planned - that much he'd almost expected. The boy, Gabriel, hadn't seen him coming until it was far too late, and he'd lost his footing trying to avoid Adam's onrushing tackle. Adam had mostly missed, but caught a piece of him all the same, the impact of which still managed to set his shoulder back in place with a satisfying 'pop'. Finding himself knocked to the ground a few feet away from where Gabriel managed to land (though thankfully not on the same type of rocks), Adam grunted as he landed on his re-set shoulder, a small throbbing pain being the end result of his fall. It didn't seem serious, nor did it persist as he dragged himself to his feet, which surged relief throughout Adam's body.
No point in wandering around with a fucked-up shoulder. I mean, I've got enough body parts that don't work properly from last time around, I don't need new ones to stop working...
As he got to his feet, Adam surveyed the scene. Gabriel was also rising to his feet, and still managed to have a grip on the sword that he carried.
Well, don't some assholes get all the luck! Fuck! What the FUCK am I going to do now?
Bracing himself for another attack, he was somewhat surprised when Gabriel spoke, holding the sword at the ready. But his words...Adam raised an eyebrow at his cryptic wording. Though Gabe's speech patterns were probably the least of his worries at the moment, he took a small step back and figured it apt to respond to the monstrousity standing before him. At least, that was what Adam figured him to be, especially by his zeal for blood.
"Wait...what? The hell do you think you are, a poet? I'd tend to disagree, buddy. What I'm doing is by no means futile. In fact, I'd say that I'm a really fucking good example of why it ISN'T futile to try and survive. I don't know if you've been keeping up with, y'know - current events and all? But I've been through this shit before, and I came out the other end, when a whole hell of a lot of other people didn't."
Grimacing at the boy, Adam's eyes widened as he realized what he truly meant by his words.
"Oh, wait one sec...you're talking about the fact that anyone who gets out of here's gonna be all fucked up and shit, right? Well...I've got news for you, dude. Like I just said...I'VE. BEEN. THROUGH. THIS. SHIT. BEFORE...follow? I know what it's like to wake up in the middle of the night with nightmares. Reliving the same horrible shit every fucking time I close my eyes? Yeah, I've done that. I don't need some monumentally large prick telling me how it is. Odds are, you aren't making it out of here alive."
Adam smirked at the boy, and felt himself starting to get wound up. He'd been told by several people, albeit gently, that he'd been seen as having somewhat of a foul mouth, and having a tendancy to rant while participating in the first version of this horrific game. He'd solemnly nodded, acknowledging the fact that he ranted when he was angry or stressed out, and that his colourful language was a habit that he didn't see stopping anytime soon. Here, of course, was no different.
"I've seen assholes like you before, the first time around. You're what...the guy who thinks he's got no other choice to play the game, so he has a fun time doing it? You enjoy killing people, and not feelin' bad about it? You ever stop to think that...y'know, just maybe you might be a fucking sociopath!? Jesus Christ, man. You...you're just like any number of assholes who tried to play the game and got cut down prematurely. Fact, I got some names for ya. Cody Jenson. He played the game, and liked it. Fucker didn't last but to the very end, and I took him down myself. He had his chance to kill me, but didn't. It came back to bite him in the ass. Or, you can look at the case of the unfortunate Mr. Jacob Starr. Guy chased me and two of my buddies around the island for the first two fucking days trying to kill us. Shot at us, threw motherfucking molotov cocktails at us, and tried almost every fucking imaginable way to kill the three of us."
Adam shook his head, sadly.
"And y'know something? He managed to kill both of my friends, but fucked up and didn't get me. And y'know how he died? I ran into him in a gazebo, he let me in on the little secret that he'd killed a THIRD friend, and we finally fought. He fuckin' died, because I slit his throat. Now, I've gotta tell you, Gabe - I don't feel fucking good about that at all. I mean, here's a guy that I kind of knew from school, and yeah...I CUT his goddamned throat! You don't feel any kind of remorse from that shit, and you're not a human being at all."
Narrowing his eyes, he paused for a second to ensure that the man across from him wasn't readying for an attack. He seemed to be almost amused at the rant, so Adam continued, knowing exactly what his plan of attack would be from here. It'd be risky, but it just might work.
"Which brings us to case number three, that of Peri Barclay. Didn't know the fucker, he was from England or some shit like that. But him and a buddy of his wandered around killing all kinds of people. Heard their names on Danya's little announcements every fuckin' day. And when he tried for me, guess what happened? He fucked up, and I chopped his motherfucking head off with a sword, very similar to the one you're holding right now. In fact, I can say that you're probably going to share a very similar fate to him, Gabriel. You don't seem to get it, but the way to get out of this game IS NOT to play to win! That's just fuckin' stupidity! You've got to do the smart thing, and play to survive. Survival of the Fittest. That's what he nicknames it. If you play to win, to kill everyone else, you won't last. It's not possible, because you'll have someone like me, someone like that Calvert guy...you play to stay alive, to keep you and your buddies breathing. In the end, if you do that shit, you'll come out okay."
Adam tensed up, ready to attack.
"That's why you won't last, Gabe. You're too big, too ugly, and too fucking stupid to know what the fuck to do. So you killed some guy already. That's fine. I don't give a flying fuck. All I can say is that the last time I hear your name, I'm fairly certain it'll be getting said over the PA, turning you into a statistic that nobody's going to care to remember. Fuck, why do you think that they have shit like 'Madelaine Shirohara day' in New York, and shit like that? It's 'cause they remember the good ones, the ones who took a bad situation and tried to help others. The ones that kill for sport?"
Adam spit into the dirt.
"Those ones fade away, nobody giving a damn in the very end. And as for me? Well, Gabriel...I've killed twelve times the people that you have. And the difference between you and I? I remember each name, each face. They're burned into my memory, no matter who they were. I'll never forget, for as long as I live, and I have a feeling that you don't need to care, don't need to remember. That'll be your downfall, sir. Oh...and by the way?"
Adam readied himself. This was it. The final moment.
Making a quick motion forward, Adam quickly threw his right foot into the ground, making a quick 180 degree turn and sprinting off as fast as he possibly could in the other direction. The river lead off to what he thought was a jungle/forest kind of thing, and anywhere could manage to be better than standing beside a crazy guy with a sword. Gabriel'd been just crazy enough to listen to Adam's calculated rant. Usually they just came out, but this time was different. Gabriel reminded him of a comic book villain, and he knew that comic book villains loved to listen to rants, in order to retort to them. He'd hoped that Gabriel wouldn't have just attacked him, and he'd gambled correctly. His plan of attack? He had nothing. No weapons, no food, no elongated light tubes. Nothing at all.
What's that expression? Never bring a sword to a gun-fight? Well fuck, never bring your bare hands to a sword-fight. I ain't even going to fuckin' try any of that shit. I'm outta here!
Staying to fight would be stupid, and Adam was not this. Part of what he'd said had been true - he had fought to survive. Just like he would do again, as even though the nightmare had seemingly reoccurred for Adam Dodd, his drive to survive was still as strong as it was the very first day that he'd been involved with Danya and his sick contest.
And he knew that it would be like this until the day that he died.
((Continued in In God's House