Garry laid on the floor for what seemed like several hours. A sticky warmth penetrated his jeans, Kitty's blood soaking into the black denim. "I did it... Sunil," he mumbled under his breath, addressing his dearly departed friend. It was over, the deed was done. All the rage and anger, the thirst for vengeance, it all evaporated away, leaving him exhausted and panting for breath. "I got her back... I... I..."
It also left him with several completely different emotions swirling through his head, all starting to eat away at him.
'You killed her, Garry...
Remorse. Regret. Guilt.
'You killed her, she was begging you to stop and you killed her anyway.
Garry stared blankly at the ceiling as the realization sank in. Just some hours earlier he'd convinced himself that he couldn't bring himself to murder anyone. And now he had. He'd actually, purposefully, killed someone during his fit of rage. It was nothing like when Jake had died. It had been a complete accident, something he didn't intend to happen.
This was no accident.
Garry's eyes darted towards the door at hearing Saul's voice. A dim light shone in through the opening, getting brighter as his friend approached the building. "Garry?! Garry?! Are you okay? I came as soon as I could!" he yelled. "Oh God, please be alive," he added on, speaking quieter to himself, though Garry could still him.
"I... I'm alive," Garry feebly responded, uncaring if Saul could hear him. Sure, he was alive, still breathing and blood pumping through his veins, but right there and then, he wished he was dead. Maybe he deserved it after what he did.
Saul had apparently heard him, and so bounded into the darkened shack, shining his flashlight all around to try and locate his friend. "Oh my god, Garry are yo-" He paused mid-sentence as the beam of light landed on Kitty's body, laying sprawled on the floor in front of the refrigerator. He just froze, his mouth hanging agape in shock at the grisly sight that beheld him.
Garry slowly sat up and saw the damage inflicted on the girl for himself. Her torso was a ragged bloody mess, clothing and skin ripped apart like an animal had savaged her. Her eyes stared lifelessly off to one side, a dark trail trickling down from her mouth. Garry didn't know what was worse, the state of the body or the fact he was the one who'd caused those fatal injuries. He didn't want to look at it any longer.
"Switch it off..." he finally spoke, looking round to Saul, who was still frozen in place like a statue. "I said switch it off!" he repeated, louder. Angrier.
"What the fucking hell happened?!" Saul asked, instead shining the torch on Garry. "Jesus Christ!" he immediately yelped as he saw him clearly in the light, jumping back.
Garry's face and his wolf shirt were both heavily splattered in blood, while his lower right arm and hand were completely coated in the red stuff. It was everywhere. Saul's eyes went back and forth between Garry and Kitty, the boy putting two and two together, one of his worst fears being realized. "N-no... no... y-you couldn't... you didn't!"
But there was no escaping from the truth. His best friend had just murdered someone. It wasn't accidental this time round. Garry was covered in blood and it looked like someone had clawed the girl's chest and stomach open, how the hell could he pass it off as an accident? The simple answer to that was he couldn't.
And so Saul did the only thing he could think of doing; he slowly backed out, turned tail and fled.
"Saul!" Garry yelled, jumping to his feet and running out of the door after him. His muscles ached, but he forced himself forwards, nearly stumbling over the broken wood and sand. "Saul, let me explain!"
"Explain? How the hell can you explain what you did to her?!" Saul angrily replied, stopping in his tracks and facing Garry. "The girl in there, you practically gutted her. You killed
"She was trying to kill me! You heard the gunshots, didn't you?!" He then pointed to what remained of the dock. "She was the one who blew up my friend!"
"So that makes it alright, huh?" Saul asked. "She kills a friend of yours, so you see it fine and dandy to kill her, is that how it is?"
"No... no, I-I don't know what came over me," Garry explained. "She'd killed Sunil, badmouthed him, told me he was in Hell, and that she was going to send me there next." There was a pause, Garry sniffing. "I... I just got so angry with her, angry that she could just take someone's life without any conscience. Angry that she wanted to kill me when I hadn't even done anything to her. I-I... I just lost it."
Saul watched in silence as Garry collapsed to his knees and fell on all fours, visibly shaking. Sand clung to his blood-covered arm.
"Look, Saul, I know I did a terrible thing, a truly horrible thing," he continued, "but... but I didn't have much of a choice. If I left her alone and backed off, she'd still have come after me anyway, and then I'd be the one lying dead in that shack. She'd... she'd have killed me if I didn't do anything."
Saul stood there, thoughts buzzing through his head at a hundred miles an hour. Yes, Garry had committed a murder, and by all rights, he should've just run as far away from him as physically possible. But the person crouched on the floor wasn't a monster. It was Garry, his friend, the werewolf fan who looked like he'd been to Hell and back over the past week. With so many conflicting thoughts and emotions running through his mind, Saul found himself facing a dilemma. 'He killed someone. Do I stay, or do I go? If I stay, I'm practically condoning the girl's murder. But if I go... I'm on my own again and I'm just going to be picked off over the next few days, or... or I'd have to...
He'd have to kill someone else so he wouldn't die.
The realization was hammered home into his skull. It was the entire objective of this deadly game. Kill or be killed. All the time he'd been trying to avoid any altercations, hoping to ride through the whole thing without having to kill anyone. But now, now he'd seen it for himself, he realized that it was an impossibility. At one point, be it over the next hour, during the next day or right at the very end, he'd have to kill at least one person.
'Murder is wrong, though. Killing is wrong, it's what we've always been taught. How could I justify taking another person's life? If someone was threatening mine...?
Self defense. Realistically the only way it could be justified.
Something that Garry had apparently done. His life was in danger, he acted accordingly.
"Garry, promise me one thing," he finally said, kneeling down in front of the hunched figure. "Promise me that you will never, ever
kill someone in cold blood. If you do, I swear..." He trailed off, letting the message sink into his friend's head.
Garry looked up to Saul, showing that he'd started to cry while hunched on the sand and that tears were running down his face. "I... w-what do you mean by that?" he asked.
"This whole thing has made me realize just what kind of situation we're in, and... as much as I hate to say it, we're going to need to... you know... to defend ourselves." He sighed deeply and sat down next to Garry, putting an arm round his shoulders. "I know how bad it sounds, but there are some truly fucked up people on this island."
"Like that Maxwell bastard?" Garry put forward. "Fuckwad killed Dougal and Marco."
"Yeah, gotta be several others as well," Saul said, nodding slowly. "But... you're not as bad as them." He gently patted Garry's shoulder, who moved into a sitting position next to him, both facing the sea. "Sorry for laying into you just now, it's just... you're my best friend, Garry, and I was scared that you'd started to turn into one of those psycho killers."
Garry shook his head. "No, I wouldn't kill anyone just for no reason, you don't have to worry about that," he said, putting his arm round Saul's shoulders in turn. There was a slight pause. "Saul?"
"Thank you," he quietly spoke.
(will edit this part when I have time: Garry and Saul pick up their bags, take Kitty's weapons with them and leave the area)
((Garry Villette and Saul Fetteralf continued in Mistaken Identity