Bloodgarden

These are the woods on the island’s Western coast. The trees run nearly all the way to the sea, allowing only a thin stretch of beach, which disappears altogether depending on the tide.* Threads Allowed: 4 *
KingKamor
Leader
Joined: May 5th, 2009, 8:58 pm

January 26th, 2011, 9:51 pm #31

This... This was what Ridley had been looking for all his life. The years of simply walking around town in search of something that he knew he would never find, all of it came sweeping back to him, and he knew that it all was just years of worthless longing. For what, he never figured out until the moment he cracked skulls with Brook.

Making. Them. All. Pay.

There was evil in the world Ridley had only seen glimpses of throughout his life in the form of jocks, bullies, smart-asses, losers, and dropouts who all saw fit to make Ridley's life a living hell for no reason. If a normal kid like Brook was capable of such brutality and insanity, then he couldn't imagine what those degenerates had the capacity to do on the island. First, he would start with Brook, then he would go after everyone playing the game and massacre them all like a big ball of death rolling across the island.

No...

Ridley smiled as he awaited Brook's answer.

All I want is this feeling.

The adrenaline, the mud on his shoes, the strain in his legs, the pain in his fists, the dried blood on his face, the twitching of his muscles as they fought against the urge to pulverize Brook into paste, the rough lining of his throat that got worse with every breath-- THIS. To kill them all like THIS would--

"I do now."

Ridley felt something hard-- possibly made of metal-- touch against his chest.

"... You..." How could I be so stupid?

The music stopped.

He didn't hear anything, and only felt himself pushed back suddenly as a searing pain permeated throughout his body like electricity, only to be followed by numbness-- every limb tingled with the same feeling as when his feet go to sleep. An oddly nostalgic feeling that brought him right back home, sitting on the floor in front of the TV.

Brook-- was he screaming?-- grew taller and taller until Ridley realized that it was he who was falling, though his hand remained latched onto Brook's collar. His head reeled back, and his eyes fell upon the clearing from before. Clear as day, Raine rested near one of the many trees.

Did I... really just...? Tears filled his eyes and washed the droplets of blood out. If he could have, he would have brought his head back up to face Brook. To say... something. He didn't know what it would have been, exactly, but...

"Just... wake... up..."

Ridley's glasses slid off of his face and hit the ground as he followed suit. His hand released Brook's collar as he fell.

"please..."

[[B096 - Ridley Landon, Deceased]]

G###: Lark "Birdie" Finley
(Pending Approval)

B###: _____ ______
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MK Kilmarnock
Mr. Danya
Joined: April 14th, 2009, 10:12 pm

January 27th, 2011, 3:52 am #32

Brook clawed at his own shirt, panting, dropping his gun to the ground for a second. Fuck the gun, he didn't need it right now. All of this had become too much. It was all so close, so very close, the blood and the gore and the viscera that covered his body. The cloth draped over his body was begging to be torn to shreds, but he had to wait.

Just a second longer.

His throat would scream itself hoarse for all the time it took for Ridley's body to finally collapse. Only when the corpse crumpled to the ground in a most unceremonious manner could Brook free himself from his soaked shirt. The shirt had been a part of his wardrobe for so long that he ordinarly wouldn't consider parting with it, were it not for the fact that the shirt were no longer his. No, he had lost so much ownership of that shirt, to where much of its mass now belonged to other people. For its treachery, Brook's fingers worked at the weakened fabric in the front of the shirt where his exploits through the woods had opened up a hole or two. With this weakness fully exposed, he ripped away at the shirt and pulled it away from him until a single shredded wad of cloth fell to the ground.

Panting in relief from the liberation of his body from the bloodstained article, Brook stared down to witness what he had just done. Two people dead... Raine and Ridley, in love to the end. He shouldn't be bothered by this... it wasn't like he was looking at THEM any more, just material components; they were nothing but husks, shells which only served as a part of what made somebody... well, somebody. That, and there was their blood. Much of that was pitifully wasted, spilled along the ground, but at least all of that wasn't on him. It wasn't like all the blood that had soaked into his shirt, even reaching his torso. He could wash it off later, there was bound to be a bit of water near the garden.

Brook pocketed the trashy-looking gun that had finally seen some use on his behalf, reaching to grab at Raine's arms. He would not give her the same grace as Tiffany by carrying her fully. He would not willingly bathe in her blood, he would not tolerate it. It wasn't much of a distance to drag the dead weight anyway, so not much time was lost. He had considered dragging Ridley first, but something inside him felt wrong just before he did so.

He was dreading the prospect of just touching him. The girl was just prey, a victim who had pushed Leila out of justice's way, and therefore took her place. Ridley was... something else. Something made him different from the others. When Brook looked into those eyes, he saw something. Even laying Raine on the ground, off to the side of Tiffany (leaving some planted flowers between the two... Tiffany was the centerpiece and focus of the garden, after all), he couldn't pinpoint just what it was he saw. Whatever it was, though, he didn't like it.

As he began to drag Ridley to the work of art next, Brook's subconcious had begun to dwell on where his thoughts would not dare, bloodstained as they may be. Perhaps what he saw in Ridley was a bit of himself... somebody who had lost everything by witnessing the love of their life, shot to death in an event that never had to happen. That was what scared Brook so deeply. Even with all that meaning, all the strength given to Ridley, he had still become nothing.

The scene was complete, at least for now. Brook sat next to Tiffany, staring over her form, and waited for sunrise. He never remembered closing his eyes.

[A new day....]
[+] spoiler
Jerry Fury - The man, the myth, the legend
Coleen Reagan - The girl who half-loved the world
[+] spoiler
V5 Roster:
Cody Patton : That bitch.
Sean Mulcahy : The world was kind to reprieve him of his fear...
Jessica Sanders: She hoped it would be quick...
[+] spoiler
20:17Sideliner:Toben and Ricky are like a sibling version of the Joker and Batman, only Batman is just as much of a mass murderer. He just hides it better.
19:58LaurelsHow does your dick smell like Fritos?
14:36 MimiI THOUGHT YOU GUYS WERE FRIENDS > 14:36MimiI THOUGHT YOU REALLY LICKED HER
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T-Fox
Winner
Joined: April 16th, 2009, 7:40 pm

February 4th, 2011, 8:04 am #33

((Colin Falcone continued from All's Fair.))

((Set somewhere between dusk day 5 and dawn day 6.))

It was dark. Hours since he had left the relative comfort and illusion of a population long past. Hours since he had watched Jacob's final moments. He had looked so peaceful in his death. It was quick, and hopefully for his late friend, painless.

It had also been hours since he had seen Tim. Quickly spinning on his heel and darting back from whence he had came, everyone in the Town Square had departed. Bounce, Vic, Alice, and Tim were all nowhere to be seen. He had called out; nay, screamed Tim's name. He had hoped beyond all hope he was still in earshot. It couldn't have been that long since he had moved, could it?

Despair. Unfathomable despair. When one found a final source of strength in a purely hopeless situation, it was amazing how Dependant they became on it. Whether or not Tim had helped Colin in any tangible way, he was still needed beyond anything that Colin could possibly comprehend up to that moment. He had never in his live valued anyone or anything so dearly. Now, knowing Tim was somewhere on this island of killers alone made him cringe and writhe in mental, emotional agony. His friend, his truest friend, someone with whom he shared a bond incomprehensible to those viewing in their posh living rooms, the safety and comfort of their own homes, would ever understand.

And to them, this was just a game. Fiction. Drama. It was enough to make him sick.

If he could feel anything, anything at all through the tears. The sadness. The depression.

But no one had come, when he called in the Town Square. And after what had felt like hours, he finally wandered away. Resolved that the last he would see of his friend would be that incident. Screaming. Anger. Paranoia. Hatred. All these negative emotions that would mar their final memories of the other.

Colin wasn't a religious boy. But if there was ever a time to become one, it was now. The comfort that the thought of a God and a Heaven brought was beyond relief. It was a guarantee that he and Tim would see each other again. He wanted beyond anything in the world to believe that when his time inevitably came, that he would see everyone again.

Such a tragedy for a mother to survive her son.

Wandering. Pointless, and aimless. His feet carried him where his feet willed. He was a tumbleweed, no purpose or direction left to his life. Oh, but if only he had his phone, finding Tim would just be that much easier. But... But it wasn't meant to be. Cruel fate obviously wanted him off to his own devices, a scared, lonely, lost little lamb. And that he had become. Without Tim, all direction was gone. His mind, his thoughts began to repeat themselves. He had trouble remembering his own mind's wanderings from one moment to the next, let alone those of his feet.

Pain was his motive. Survive till that next announcement. Pray that Tim's name was not there. Hope. What a ray of hope it would be. Tim would still be alive, and he could find him. He somewhere remembered hearing that people were most likely to die within the first few hours of getting lost. He didn't remember where. He didn't even know if he had just made that up. A rationalization? A defense mechanism for an ailing mind, trying to give itself hope? Convincing himself that if Tim survived until sunrise, that he would be alive forever and ever, just waiting for Colin?

Everything that the poor boy's mind could conceive of going wrong had just gone wrong.

He wasn't paying attention. Not thinking straight. His feet were heavy on the ground, earth crunching and snapping, his footsteps sounding like that of a drunken moose.

Not that difficult for someone to hear him coming a mile away.

When had he wandered into the woods? It was dark too. He didn't remember that happening. His mind, a flashback. Tim wasn't there when he was talking. Was Tim a figment of his imagination? Did he really ever meet up with Tim? Jacob was real. Watched him die, something that horrible had to be real. His mind was going. He could feel it. He wasn't sane, there was no way. Weren't there stories of people hallucinating that their long dead friends were still with them? Never realizing it? A way to cope. Coping was what everyone was doing.

His eyes darted from tree to tree. Everything looked the same. He was a drunken man, drunk on fear, drunk on despair. Wandering and stumbling his way towards sweet release.

Noise. A clearing up ahead.

Not thinking clearly. He went right for it. Ignore the danger. Ignore the background, the island, the setting. Safety. Another person.

Life...
Coming soon to a deathmatch near you:
Garry Brooks - Swave Countryboy
Jade Aurora - Tomboy Drummer
Jasmine Tolle - Pacifistiic Artist

Memories of those past:
[+] spoiler
B008 - Peter McCue - "Welcome home Katlin." - "DECEASED" - (Killcount: 0) - St. Paul, Minnesota [RANK: 82/276]
B011 - Chadd Crossen - "Janet... I forgive you for everything." - DECEASED - (Killcount: 0) - The Northern Cliffs: Sometimes Sanctuary isn't That Far Away... [RANK: 242/276]
B018 - Colin Falcone - Damned if Danya could stop him; even in death. - DECEASED - (Killcount: 1 - Antonio Russo) - The Costal Woods: One Final Bow [RANK: 161/276]
G020 - Jacquard "Jackie" Broughten - She was never really alone at all. - DECEASED - (Killcount: 1 - Maria Santiago) - The Tunnels: Peripeteia [RANK: 106/276]
B100 - Rekka Saionji - "Real... men... don't cry." - DECEASED - (Killcount: 0) - The Tunnels: It Knows Nothing of Whim [RANK: 208/276]
What is wrong with you people?!
[+] spoiler
(7:07:51 PM) Little: "TAKE THAT MOM. YOU TRIED TO PROTECT ME, BUT I'VE BEEN TEN COCKS DEEP 24/SEV-UNNNNNN"
Rattlesnake: ...He says confidently after burning his roll null. I think Ciel just punched the RNG in the face.
Namira: Ciel: Punch RNG in the snout to establish superiority.
KamiKaze: I think Kyle enjoys the scent of poor people.
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MK Kilmarnock
Mr. Danya
Joined: April 14th, 2009, 10:12 pm

February 5th, 2011, 5:21 am #34

Brook opened his eyes, and Tiffany was there. She was still there, even if she would never smile for anybody but him ever again. Never would she dance, or play or laugh or cry, or respond awkwardly to his drunken advances. At least she was still there, resting on the ground and ready to spend another day with him.

You were always that kind of girl, weren't you, Tiffany? What am I saying... you always are! I'll never let you die here, I made that promise...

He wasn't sure when he had closed his eyes, but it seemed his body desperately sought the sleep his will had done everything in its power to fight against. That wasn't good... to think that he still wasn't ready to dedicate himself, mind and body, heart and soul to Tiffany.

... Oh god, no.

Brook lept to his feet, his lower lip quivering as he looked down to the goddess at his feet. He was a culler of others, the gardener of this poorly overgrown island, and the Mighty Zinnia all at the same time. Compared to Tiffany, however, he was nothing. He had pledged himself to preserving her memory for as long as he may live, but somewhere in the dark of the night, he had fallen asleep.

"No, I'm... I'm sorry!" Silence came back up at him, causing the lanky boy to tremble as he stared down at her. There was an anger directed through the area that only Brook could feel, seeping through the red hole in her clothing and punching through his heart. She was well within her rights to be angry, but he just.... he just couldn't handle it! He looked around frantically, searching for anything he could say in his defense.

"It's.... it's still night time! It's still dark, I wasn't out for that long!" He begged. It was the truth for what it was worth; the sky was still dark, and Tiffany herself was somewhat hard to see. "I-I... I don't know what you want me to do!" Nothing from her, at least that anybody else could see. But Brook saw the true meaning behind the silence. For as quiet as it was, Tiffany may as well have just been screaming at him. The silence grew, and along with it, so did the deafening roar of her screams, the intensity of her glare.

"DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT!" He shouted, shutting his eyes and grinding his palms against his ears. All just a futile effort; try as he might, the sounds would penetrate his hands, and the sight, his eyelids. It was all he could do just to stay standing, since he just wanted to fall to his knees at Tiffany's side, cry and continue to beg for forgiveness. There had to be some way to appease her, a way to keep her satisfied.

More... does she need... more?

But that was ridiculous. He would get more bodies for the lovely garden arrangement, but he had already dropped two husks chock full of the damned stuff onto the ground. That should've been enough... she couldn't possibly be hungering for MORE... could she?

That'd make her bloodlust... completely insatiable. I'm supposed to... stuff... I... aaaaaugh!!!

His thoughts were hardly making sense, but the most painful part was that Brook was quite aware of this very fact.

What... do... I...

It was then somebody showed up, and only then could Brook free himself from Tiffany's hold for a few moments. There was a moment or two where he just stared at the intruder upon his garden, trying to allow his brain to catch up to the current events going on all around him. The next step, of course, was to identify just who it was. That second part didn't take long; back at Bayview, the sweet, soft-spoken gardener had met a lot of people, and good ol' boy Colin Falcone was one of them. A lovely voice, cheery personality.

He'll do just fine.

The grin returned to Brook's face as he began walking towards Colin.
[+] spoiler
Jerry Fury - The man, the myth, the legend
Coleen Reagan - The girl who half-loved the world
[+] spoiler
V5 Roster:
Cody Patton : That bitch.
Sean Mulcahy : The world was kind to reprieve him of his fear...
Jessica Sanders: She hoped it would be quick...
[+] spoiler
20:17Sideliner:Toben and Ricky are like a sibling version of the Joker and Batman, only Batman is just as much of a mass murderer. He just hides it better.
19:58LaurelsHow does your dick smell like Fritos?
14:36 MimiI THOUGHT YOU GUYS WERE FRIENDS > 14:36MimiI THOUGHT YOU REALLY LICKED HER
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T-Fox
Winner
Joined: April 16th, 2009, 7:40 pm

February 5th, 2011, 9:49 pm #35

That noise had been the ravings of a crazy man. A crazy man he would realize was crazy all too late. To the eyes of Colin Falcone, the sight of Brook standing before him was a blessing, the port in the storm. He remembered the gardener from Bayview. They had a couple of classes together, and he honestly had quite liked the boy. If it weren't for his withdrawn demeanor, back then he thought they might have been able to become close friends.

So the fear washed away, just long enough for the scared, lonely boy to feel a moment of respite, a moment of comfort as he watched Brook walking rather hurriedly towards him. His posture almost immediately fixed itself, and the cloud in his mind began to waft slowly away. A familiar face.

"Brook!"

It wasn't Tim. He was still worried for Tim. He needed to find his friend. But honestly, for now? This would more than do. Another person, just as soft spoken, just as calm, just as much of a pacifist as he was back in Bayview. He hadn't heard Brook's name on the announcements either. So it served to reason that he was just as afraid as Colin.

The bodies were obscured from view by the odd tree in the supposed clearing.

"I-I'm so glad to see you." He panted, his vision tunneling onto his face. Brook's body was covered, nay coated in blood. If he had looked down for more than a split second, he would have at least had the inkling to ask. Some survival instinct.

"I got separated from Tim- my friend." His body was almost shaking. Adrenaline of fear washing away. But... Something still just didn't feel right. He glance down to the weapon in Brook's hand. Pointed groundward. In the least threatening way possible. But something still just didn't feel ri-

The blood on the barrel. His vision backed away, the shuffling of feet could be heard. The blood on his arm. The blood on his sleeve. The blood on his chest, on his pants, on his shirt, on his neck.

So much blood.

Still not completely in his right state of mind, rather than turn on a heel and flee for his life, he stammered. Like a deer in the headlights, he stared at Brook's chest. No, through Brook's chest. To the blood on the other side. To the pints upon pints of spilled blood.

What's going on... W-Wasn't Brook afraid of blood?

---

It was seriously hard to concentrate on this damn Algebra test with someone having a mild shit fit in the back of the room. About 20 minutes into the test, there had just been a simple "Oh- Shit" that came from the back of the room. A little distracting, but fair enough.

Now, a good ten minutes later, after a noisy, clumsy sprint to the nurse, the kid was still hyperventilating in the back of the room. Whatever the kid had managed to do to himself must have been nasty if he was acting like that. Stick a pencil through his hand? Either way, Colin did want to actually successfully finish this test. Whether or not he cared about his grades, his father did. And while his mother would inevitably sympathize with him, his father had the belt. And that was not exactly anything that he was looking forward to come report card time.

He also needed to be able to sit for his next show.

Pulling his eyes from his test, he glanced back to see a bandaid on the kid's finger, and a small red stain on the corner of the test page that was on top.

Really? A paper cut? He sighed. Hopefully he could block out the noise to finish off this god damned test...

---

"W-What happened to you? And how are you not like... Freaking out right now?" He motioned to Brook's entire outfit with his head. Another quick shuffle back. Some instinct inside him was finally starting to wake up. However consciously he refused to even entertain the notion that this wasn't explainable. Hell, maybe the island had forced him to get over that fear of blood!

Yeah. That had to be it.

He was safe here. Right? He had to be. Together they would go find Tim, and then the three of them would try and make the best of what time was left. Right?

And it was then that a red glint caught his eye from behind the tree. Some matted grass, a pool of viscous red liquid seeping from something... No, that couldn't be right. His eyes were playing tricks on him. Hell, he'd thought it himself earlier. He was losing his mind, succumbing to the forces around him. That wasn't blood. That was a trick of the eye, an optical illusion that the sun was making.

Hell though, it was a convincing optical illusion. His mind was beginning to feel a sense of panic. Adrenaline rushed through his veins yet again. He was jumpy, but his conscious mind could not fathom why.

He was just spooked for no good reason. Yeah, that's it.
Coming soon to a deathmatch near you:
Garry Brooks - Swave Countryboy
Jade Aurora - Tomboy Drummer
Jasmine Tolle - Pacifistiic Artist

Memories of those past:
[+] spoiler
B008 - Peter McCue - "Welcome home Katlin." - "DECEASED" - (Killcount: 0) - St. Paul, Minnesota [RANK: 82/276]
B011 - Chadd Crossen - "Janet... I forgive you for everything." - DECEASED - (Killcount: 0) - The Northern Cliffs: Sometimes Sanctuary isn't That Far Away... [RANK: 242/276]
B018 - Colin Falcone - Damned if Danya could stop him; even in death. - DECEASED - (Killcount: 1 - Antonio Russo) - The Costal Woods: One Final Bow [RANK: 161/276]
G020 - Jacquard "Jackie" Broughten - She was never really alone at all. - DECEASED - (Killcount: 1 - Maria Santiago) - The Tunnels: Peripeteia [RANK: 106/276]
B100 - Rekka Saionji - "Real... men... don't cry." - DECEASED - (Killcount: 0) - The Tunnels: It Knows Nothing of Whim [RANK: 208/276]
What is wrong with you people?!
[+] spoiler
(7:07:51 PM) Little: "TAKE THAT MOM. YOU TRIED TO PROTECT ME, BUT I'VE BEEN TEN COCKS DEEP 24/SEV-UNNNNNN"
Rattlesnake: ...He says confidently after burning his roll null. I think Ciel just punched the RNG in the face.
Namira: Ciel: Punch RNG in the snout to establish superiority.
KamiKaze: I think Kyle enjoys the scent of poor people.
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MK Kilmarnock
Mr. Danya
Joined: April 14th, 2009, 10:12 pm

February 6th, 2011, 7:57 am #36

"Colin..." Brook called out to the boy one more time as he approached. Colin also seemed to like talking a lot. It was enough to make Brook cringe, what with all of the incredibly stupid and grating words, but that was about what you'd expect from somebody who liked to use their voice so much. Right... he never really attended any of those shows, but if Colin had a nice set of pipes on him, maybe he could at least get a tune or so as he worked!

There was a question somewhere in the jabbering of the other boy. He looked so alone, so wonderfully helpless... squishy, even? When he stopped and really listened to the question though, the prey had a point: why wasn't he freaking out? Brook looked down at his own body, bewildered at just how much blood he had been covered with. When did he lose himself in the rust-colored waterfall of violence? When did he black out and allow himself to become immersed in his fears?

Who the hell was he? Did it matter?

He stared off to the side of Colin's feet, wading through the muck of these thoughts for a few moments or two. He tried to get close to the image of himself before all of this, but the memories were just too strange for him. Had he strayed too far from his original self? If he had, in his endless pursuit to make sure one girl of his life was never forgotten, then was their any point in forgetting? To return to his old self?

The answer of THAT should've been quite obvious.

"Hell... I guess I'm just too strung out by this point to care! All the way around on the scale and then some, right?" Brook giggled, looking back up to Colin. Some of his hair had worked itself loose of his hair-tie during the night, and had found its way into his face. As he continued to smile over to Colin to welcome him, he brushed the stray strands of hair out of his face and safely tucked them behind his ear.

The singer looked awfully wary of the situation, which was an annoyingly accurate and reasonable response. Brook would just have to take advantage of this before he could do anything silly or whatnot. "Well, Colin..." Brook sighed and walked to him, placing the arm that wasn't holding his gun around Colin's back and shoulders. "I've been keeping appearances around here..." He began to walk the two of them to the clearing. The cheery lies would soon be exposed, leaving nothing but bloody inner beauty. Brook could hardly wait.

As they walked, Brook thought about the junky little gun in his hand. Rather than stash it away and use the weapon that Ridley had, likely more formidable than the weapon he was using. But there was something special about this weapon. It was, after all, the little hunk of metal that he had woken up in this hell with, and so far it had served him well. Leila got her dirty little hands all over it, but at least he paid her his revenge. Not as much as he would have LIKED, but still to some extent.

The time was coming... they were well within view of the garden now, and he could practically feel Colin's trepidation seeping through the skin of his hand and arm. In line with Brook's step, his leg drew in front of both of Colin's, and Brook's arm gave a great shove in order to force Colin to the ground. Brook stared down at the boy mercilessly, the smile on his face returning to the more comfortable and slightly manic grin.

"This here! Take a good look, Colin! Ya like it? I'm gonna need your help..."
[+] spoiler
Jerry Fury - The man, the myth, the legend
Coleen Reagan - The girl who half-loved the world
[+] spoiler
V5 Roster:
Cody Patton : That bitch.
Sean Mulcahy : The world was kind to reprieve him of his fear...
Jessica Sanders: She hoped it would be quick...
[+] spoiler
20:17Sideliner:Toben and Ricky are like a sibling version of the Joker and Batman, only Batman is just as much of a mass murderer. He just hides it better.
19:58LaurelsHow does your dick smell like Fritos?
14:36 MimiI THOUGHT YOU GUYS WERE FRIENDS > 14:36MimiI THOUGHT YOU REALLY LICKED HER
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T-Fox
Winner
Joined: April 16th, 2009, 7:40 pm

February 6th, 2011, 8:50 pm #37

"Colin..."

Brook's voice was almost sad as he called out his name. Brook recognized him. That was a good thing. A very good thing. That meant they had some common ground to work off of. That was a good start.

As Colin rambled, through the black of the night, he attempted to inspect Brook's visage. His new companion seemed to be almost eyeing him like a hungry wolf would eye a rabbit. Predator and prey. He shook his head, trying to get these thoughts out of his tired and weary head. He just couldn't believe it was true. Brook was too gentle, too soft spoken to be a murderer. Whatever had happened must have traumatized him. So deeply.

It was just the paranoia.

Sighing and stopping for breath, he listened to Brook's creepily joyous voice utter a response.

"Hell... I guess I'm just too strung out by this point to care! All the way around on the scale and then some, right?"

Okay, that wasn't paranoia. Brook's mood had just done a complete 180. This was beyond creepy. That response... That response was uttered in a tone like something a pleasently surprised middle schooler would utter. It sent a shiver down his spine that he couldn't control. His mind began to debate with itself, whether he should flee now or not. The giggle cemented the deal. He knew he should run, that Brook had completely lost his shit. But for some reason, some modicum of the past clung to Colin's perception of the boy before him. Something young and innocent shown through Brook, even through the crazy layer atop.

He knew that wouldn't save him if Brook had collected the 'postal' crazy that had been rampant about the island. But it was more than enough to make him rooted in place, unable to move.

Until whisked away by the gardener himself.

"Well, Colin..."

As the arm slipped about his back, he very visibly shivered. While Brook was still very warm and full of life, something about the touch was just chilling. As if something beyond sinister was happeni-

Oh. My. God.

Numbness and shock were quickly surging over every other emotion that he could possibly have comprehended. Three bodies lied in the twilight, the moon shimmering off of the blood and the pale skin almost goulishly beautiful scene. It was a gothic garden of blood and gore.

"I've been keeping appearances around here..."

Something straight from hell had just appeared before him, and Brook was Bezlebub himself. The orchestrator of this grim arrangement. This is exactly what Dante would have pictured for one of his fictionalized seven levels of hell. The only thing missing was the fire and brimstone. And even without; god damn was it getting hot around here.

Sweat poured through his pores as Brook led him closer and closer, the faces becoming visible, two wounds still looking fresh; the one in the center not quite so much. He didn't recognize a single of the trio more than he would any other person from his year. They looked so peaceful if it were not for the red that they now bathed in, leaking from their bodies and to the ground.

And suddenly, his balence was gone. The world had dissapeared from below his feet, and towards the bodies he fell. The feeling of Brook's arm upon his back melted away, and time seemed to slow as the face of the boy became nearer and nearer, agonizingly slow. He shut his eyes, just as his own body fell upon theirs, a sickly splattering noise and a cold wet feeling making him suddenly feel violently ill.

"This here! Take a good look, Colin! Ya like it? I'm gonna need your help..."

Quickly he rolled on his back, just fast enough to see the moonlight cast a ghastly shadow upon his now captor's face. The grin... That grin would haunt his dreams, if he were to ever have another. Paralyzed by fear, every conscious thought screamed at him to flee. This would very well be the end of the line if he had not. But he knew that Brook had some sort of gun, somewhere nearby, even if the scant light was not kind enough to betray it's position.

Everything came into vivid detail as his mind took in every last thing, every single scenario. The trees, their branches blowing in the breeze, obscuring the bright silver ball; queen of the night sky. Leaves rustling in the clearing, a gentle summer's breeze carrying the remenants of the fall before away, freedom he longed for. The looming power of the boy's form, wine-colored sillouete imposing accross the dead of night. The white hot sting of tears as they flowed from his cheeks over small cuts and scrapes, the result of a man who had been out in the wilderness for far too long.

"Brook, please don't do this... Please..."
Coming soon to a deathmatch near you:
Garry Brooks - Swave Countryboy
Jade Aurora - Tomboy Drummer
Jasmine Tolle - Pacifistiic Artist

Memories of those past:
[+] spoiler
B008 - Peter McCue - "Welcome home Katlin." - "DECEASED" - (Killcount: 0) - St. Paul, Minnesota [RANK: 82/276]
B011 - Chadd Crossen - "Janet... I forgive you for everything." - DECEASED - (Killcount: 0) - The Northern Cliffs: Sometimes Sanctuary isn't That Far Away... [RANK: 242/276]
B018 - Colin Falcone - Damned if Danya could stop him; even in death. - DECEASED - (Killcount: 1 - Antonio Russo) - The Costal Woods: One Final Bow [RANK: 161/276]
G020 - Jacquard "Jackie" Broughten - She was never really alone at all. - DECEASED - (Killcount: 1 - Maria Santiago) - The Tunnels: Peripeteia [RANK: 106/276]
B100 - Rekka Saionji - "Real... men... don't cry." - DECEASED - (Killcount: 0) - The Tunnels: It Knows Nothing of Whim [RANK: 208/276]
What is wrong with you people?!
[+] spoiler
(7:07:51 PM) Little: "TAKE THAT MOM. YOU TRIED TO PROTECT ME, BUT I'VE BEEN TEN COCKS DEEP 24/SEV-UNNNNNN"
Rattlesnake: ...He says confidently after burning his roll null. I think Ciel just punched the RNG in the face.
Namira: Ciel: Punch RNG in the snout to establish superiority.
KamiKaze: I think Kyle enjoys the scent of poor people.
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MK Kilmarnock
Mr. Danya
Joined: April 14th, 2009, 10:12 pm

February 7th, 2011, 1:25 am #38

Ah, finally! This is the reaction that Brook was waiting to see on Colin's face. On his back, gasping in terror and staring up at him as he passed down the boy's fate to him. There were tears gushing from his face for a few bonus points. And really... he was begging? Begging for Brook not to kill him and spill him open all over the ground? It just didn't get any more satisfying than this! A shame he couldn't reward all that begging with... you know, letting him go or something, but he could offer Colin the reward of a more fulfilling death! After all, the more blood, the better!

The suffering was more of a bonus.

"Okay... don't do what? You're gonna have to be veeeeeery specific!" Brook cooed, turning his feet to walk around Colin. As he paced from his feet to somewhere around the boy's right hip, his eyes remained transfixed on Colin's face. Yeah... he wasn't gonna miss a second of this. "Because there's a lot of things I'm going to do right now, and I can't skip out on ALL of them... you saw it, Colin. You saw my garden, and it's not quite finished. So really... just fucking save it!"

With a snarl, Brook dropped his right knee dead center onto Colin's chest. Man, that was one hell of a satisfying scream, or a grunt, maybe it was a wheeze. He didn't hear anything snap though, so at least he hadn't guaranteed Colin's death yet. Fuck no, how boring would that be? If he was to do his job, he was going to keep this as completely interesting as possible! The smaller boy was just so... so fun! His reactions were right up there with Raine's, all of her stupid begging and her desperate calls to Ridley right before the bullet tore up her insides. More of that, and Brook might keep him around for an extra minute or so before he became little more than fertilizer.

Then, for some reason, the crying was annoying. Yeah... you'd think Colin would be happy, aiding Brook in forever enshrining the memory of one of their classmates. Why did he have to act so ungrateful? Why was he so fucking selfish all of a sudden, that little runt!?

Brook's left hand swung down at Colin's face to scrap against right right cheek. Being a righty, it hardly had any real force behind it. No cut, no blood... damn. He gave another blow with his left hand, this time forcing it straight down right below Colin's right eye. The impact was there, and a satisfying yelp met his ears, but still not the vile, vile fluid that was necessary to raise Tiffany higher. He needed more... and Colin, ever the greedy bastard wasn't giving it up! His right hand held the Liberator, but that didn't stop him. Why be biased towards one hand, after all? Brook gave it an even chance by turning his wrist upward, thus pointing the gun's barrel outward and parallel with Colin's prone body, and smashed the pinky-side of his hand right down onto his nose.

It'd take a while, but it was there. The smell of wet, dirty pennies, that sickly copper wafted up from the boy, and Brook paused a moment to sneer at him.

"You're so gross, Colin, bleeding like that... it's people like you that covered me in all this. I'd appreciate it if you'd stop bleeding on me."

He rose up from the boy, checking his hand to make sure none of the blood got on him. Damn it, why did Colin have to remind him of just how much he hated the damn stuff? Yet he would have to bathe in it, wouldn't he? If he were to do what was asked of him and his calling...

Would you give me a sec, Tif? I'm trying, really... I am!
[+] spoiler
Jerry Fury - The man, the myth, the legend
Coleen Reagan - The girl who half-loved the world
[+] spoiler
V5 Roster:
Cody Patton : That bitch.
Sean Mulcahy : The world was kind to reprieve him of his fear...
Jessica Sanders: She hoped it would be quick...
[+] spoiler
20:17Sideliner:Toben and Ricky are like a sibling version of the Joker and Batman, only Batman is just as much of a mass murderer. He just hides it better.
19:58LaurelsHow does your dick smell like Fritos?
14:36 MimiI THOUGHT YOU GUYS WERE FRIENDS > 14:36MimiI THOUGHT YOU REALLY LICKED HER
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T-Fox
Winner
Joined: April 16th, 2009, 7:40 pm

February 7th, 2011, 2:21 pm #39

Brook's face seemed to light up, and with that 'glow' that radiated from his fittingly dark face; evaporated any hope that Colin had still clung to, replacing it with despair and terror. That look from before... He wasn't losing his mind, Brook was the insane one. His eyes were wide, his entire body shook. He tried with all of his might not to focus on the dead bodies behind him...

"Okay... don't do what? You're gonna have to be veeeeeery specific!"

He shuddered. Hard. This wasn't just scary, this wasn't just terrifying. This was horrific, creepy, something straight out of a horror flick. Stunned silence. His mouth was agape as he stared up at his former classmate, focused on that gun, dull metal glinting a soft snow white in the moonlight. His head swiveled as far as it could, following the lion as he stalked his cornered prey in a circle.

"Because there's a lot of things I'm going to do right now, and I can't skip out on ALL of them... you saw it, Colin. You saw my garden, and it's not quite finished. So really... just fucking save it!"

In the brief moment between Brook's command and the impending impact, he felt like a whipped puppy. Brook had put so much anger and force behind his words, that they seemed to override his survival instincts for a split second. Had this not been as dire of a situation of the one he were in, he would have quietly apologized, turned and walked away.

But he couldn't here.

Primarily because there was a massive knee in his chest.

His mouth shot agape as a loud yelp forced it's way from his mouth as he felt Brook drop his weight into his chest, his lungs expelling all of the air with such force and violence. His throat was raw, and his chest was throbbing in pain. A quick cough.

And yes, the tears were becoming more and more intense. He was crying in fear for his own life, and for what his parents were watching. Sure, Tim and his life back home flitted in and out of his mind here and there throughout the entire ordeal, but what man can say he faced down death and cried for others without lying through his teeth? None but a saint, and while Colin was a pacifist, he was no saint. He had killed after all. Heck. This might be Karma.

A swift smack, and his entire head rotated quickly to the right in reaction. It didn't really hurt all that much, just a little sting on his right cheek. However pathetic that first hit was, the second strike hit home, right below his eye. He felt something give, just a little, and a shot of fiery pain washed over his entire face. This directly forced more and more tears from his right eye, something broken; never to work again.

He turned his head to face Brook again, and just as he looked up, he saw the gun directly above him. But it was pointed over him. Confusion. The gun grew in size as it rushed closer. Realization.

CRACK

He howled in pain as he felt his nose break under the hard steel of the gun. Blood oozed from his nose as he writhed on the ground, Brook's taunting voice nothing but a whisper.

"You're so gross, Colin, bleeding like that... it's people like you that covered me in all this. I'd appreciate it if you'd stop bleeding on me."

He coughed, spattering a little of the blood that had run down his face across the forest floor to mix with the blood of the others sitting below him. "I-I'd stop bleeding on you if you'd stop hitting me. Listen to yourself! You're hitting me, YOU'RE making me bleed. You can stop this Brook, for the love of God, stop hitting me! You don't have to keep doing this. Please!"

A final, desperate plea to anything that might have been left of Brook's sanity. Little did he know how far down the rabbit hole Brook had gone. Hearing Tiffany's voice, urging him onward. More and more blood.

And Colin would be Tiffany's next victim.
Coming soon to a deathmatch near you:
Garry Brooks - Swave Countryboy
Jade Aurora - Tomboy Drummer
Jasmine Tolle - Pacifistiic Artist

Memories of those past:
[+] spoiler
B008 - Peter McCue - "Welcome home Katlin." - "DECEASED" - (Killcount: 0) - St. Paul, Minnesota [RANK: 82/276]
B011 - Chadd Crossen - "Janet... I forgive you for everything." - DECEASED - (Killcount: 0) - The Northern Cliffs: Sometimes Sanctuary isn't That Far Away... [RANK: 242/276]
B018 - Colin Falcone - Damned if Danya could stop him; even in death. - DECEASED - (Killcount: 1 - Antonio Russo) - The Costal Woods: One Final Bow [RANK: 161/276]
G020 - Jacquard "Jackie" Broughten - She was never really alone at all. - DECEASED - (Killcount: 1 - Maria Santiago) - The Tunnels: Peripeteia [RANK: 106/276]
B100 - Rekka Saionji - "Real... men... don't cry." - DECEASED - (Killcount: 0) - The Tunnels: It Knows Nothing of Whim [RANK: 208/276]
What is wrong with you people?!
[+] spoiler
(7:07:51 PM) Little: "TAKE THAT MOM. YOU TRIED TO PROTECT ME, BUT I'VE BEEN TEN COCKS DEEP 24/SEV-UNNNNNN"
Rattlesnake: ...He says confidently after burning his roll null. I think Ciel just punched the RNG in the face.
Namira: Ciel: Punch RNG in the snout to establish superiority.
KamiKaze: I think Kyle enjoys the scent of poor people.
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MK Kilmarnock
Mr. Danya
Joined: April 14th, 2009, 10:12 pm

February 8th, 2011, 1:27 am #40

Colin said something. Damn it, why did he keep saying things? The distractions were becoming just a little too annoying at this point. Couldn't he see that a gardener was trying to do his job, and this job didn't have any room for his bloody schoolboy logic?

Brook spat on the ground near Colin's feet, wiping his nose and mouth with a strip of his sleeve that wasn't caked in somebody's blood yet. Things had yet to get very interesting, and there just wasn't enough blood. Who's voice was calling... was it Tiffany? The voice wasn't his own, but the more he focused, part of it didn't sound like Tiffany anymore. Was it the same one that was calling earlier? He thought for sure it was, but the one back then was her without a shadow of a doubt. Then why was it changing? Why, the more soaked the ground become, did the inflections and timbre change?

This was impossible. It should be, should have been, should have been... Colin was still alive... why was he still alive? Why was the blood going from necessary to disgusting to treasured to wonderful to horrid to an endless chain of things, none of which seemed to be linked to any of the others in a pattern. His fault... of fucking course, it was his fault! So much of the nasty, nasty shit that still needed to spray, of course his mind was going to be clouded. But all in all, Colin was right. Brook hated blood, of course. That should've been obvious! So, why in St. Paul's name was he so obsessed with it now?

He'd mull over his fearful infatuation later. There was still so much to be done, but with what? If only he had a knife, or a shovel, or something... something to have so much fun with before the job had to be finished! After all, what better way to kill fear than with joy? Brook looked around him. What could he use in order to do the job. A few rocks... bludgeoning might be something he'd like to try later, but... no. Sharper rocks? Closer, but no. Poisonous plants, while present, were a no-go... no blood that way (unless you got one of the truly violent killers, but Brook hadn't found a single one of those since his arrival on the island). Some fallen tree branches.... no. Because seriously, who the fuck kills somebody with a tree branch?

A complete psycho, that's who. Brook had standards.

No, the true victor of this little paegant was nested up so peacefully (as well as randomly) against the roots of one of the oak trees just outside the clearing. Upon closer observation, the tree was a sugar maple, Acer saccharum. But for the moment being, that wasn't important. It'd be important later if he ever wanted some nice delicious syrup once the garden was established, and once it was winter, but that'd be such a long time. No, what was important now was the discarded brown beer bottle lying against some of the roots of the tree.

"Heeeeeellllooooo!!!" he crooned, walking a few steps away from Colin to go get the bottle. "Colin! You'll never guess! I think I found just what we need!"
[+] spoiler
Jerry Fury - The man, the myth, the legend
Coleen Reagan - The girl who half-loved the world
[+] spoiler
V5 Roster:
Cody Patton : That bitch.
Sean Mulcahy : The world was kind to reprieve him of his fear...
Jessica Sanders: She hoped it would be quick...
[+] spoiler
20:17Sideliner:Toben and Ricky are like a sibling version of the Joker and Batman, only Batman is just as much of a mass murderer. He just hides it better.
19:58LaurelsHow does your dick smell like Fritos?
14:36 MimiI THOUGHT YOU GUYS WERE FRIENDS > 14:36MimiI THOUGHT YOU REALLY LICKED HER
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