Tocatta & Fugue

Joined: June 29th, 2013, 5:06 pm

October 3rd, 2016, 8:50 am #1

((Darius Van Dyke continued from Room of Relaxation))

“Yo, news station. Stop fucking sending this. Stop talking about this tragedy. If nobody's watching this, the terrorists won't do it in the future. You're dumb, aren't you?”

Stepping in front of the cam in the room, he expected an answer, but none came. It was an unrealistic goal, because why the fuck would the news stations stop reporting this? But, still. Darius had the right to be angry at these fuckers.

While he stared into the cam with a death stare, Darius did not notice that a boy with red-streaks came. That boy was armed with a sword. Darius knew that swords were rad.

But guns were better.

So he took out his Magnum from his bag. He pointed the gun at the red-haired fuckboy's face and tried to shoot, but nothing came out.

The blue-eyed devil went closer to Darius, while the green-haired fuckboy tried to put the bullets into his gun. "How the fuck does this gun loading work", Darius muttered under his breath.

The murderous villain shouted something at the green-haired fuckboy.

"I got a black belt in killing stupid fucks like you!"

And then the fight emerged. The red-haired fuckboy had his black shirt covered in blood, indicating that he had experience in murdering people. Darius managed to hit the meme's face with his Magnum, which angered the meme with the broken nose. Darius however could feel the sword cutting his face. Then another slash hitting his neck.

Darius' neck was bleeding and it was fucking painful, but he managed to pull the tie of the phenomenom. But the black-shirted fuckboy pulled Darius' hair and pulled him down to the knees so that the evil murderer could kick Darius into the face with his knee.

Down on the ground the blue-eyed monster seemed so big, but Darius also stared at the crotch of the monster. And decided that he deserved a nutshot and threw his legs up to give the asshole some nice pain. The killer was in pain and expressed that to Darius, but it was over. He just dropped the sword and took Darius' gun out of his hand. Darius tried to grab the gun, keep it. But the monster just took it away with no resistance.

And then the red-haired fuckboy shot the green-haired fuckboy.

He was dying.

He looked at his big belly. It had multiple holes in it and blood flooded out. The pain was real.

Darius opened his eyes and light shined into it since he fell asleep on the floor. His nose was closed and he could feel the blood crust around his face. He rolled onto his stomach to push himself up from the floor. He stretched his limbs. Crack.

He recalled everything he didn't want to recall.

What a day he had behind him. Being told to be killed or to kill. Beat up by Junko. Threatened with a crossbow. Running around.

And then he went to this building and fell asleep, doozed off rather quickly. He was fucking exhausted; no energy drink would have helped him.

At first, he was worried about being killed in the sleep. But worrying about that was fucking stupid.

But he did so anyway. He woke up in the night after nightmares or when hearing noises. It was not a tight sleep, but eventually could sleep long enough to wake up in the morning. It was recovering. It was oddly comfortable. Sure, the cold floor was a bitch, and sleeping in the dormatories would have been so much more fucking comfortable with a soft, sexy bed. But, he wouldn't sleep on a bed just to be murdered while he slept. Here, in the building next to the radio tower he felt secure. He was surrounded by hope. He was surrounded by equipment he could use against the crooks who put them on the island.

Darius whistled 'Lonely Boy' by Andrew Gold. And then he showed both of his middle fingers into the air and stopped the whistling. He looked around to look at the equipment.

And then a bastard's voice came from out of nowhere.

Darius listened patiently to the announcement as if Danya was a teacher in his class. He did not know how to react.

"Hah. That joke was good. You're still a bitch, though."

Humour had no borders. But, Darius could not laugh at those jokes. He might have, if it did not involve his classmates. It was not funny.

He still laughed, even if it was not funny. It helped to better his mood.

Then, after the awkward laugh, an awkward silence emerged. No one replied for a while.

"LOL, you're so funny, Danya."

Sarcasm. Then, silence.

Darius thought he would be one of the first persons to die in the class. Even, without being in the game, he probably die early due to a disease or due to his bad health or due to a stupid accident. But he never would have guessed that Jennifer would be the person.

Darius knew to what kind of school he went to. A school full of idiots and assholes. A grade where people were complete jerks or losers.

Cochise was a shithole.

Isabel. Alvaro. Conrad. Kimiko. All assholes. All selfish pricks with no standards. Darius did not expect more from his fucked up school. Junko attacked him, Sam threatened him. Darius believed that no deep connection between his classmates existed. The murderers, these people with no honour. It's a shame he had to share a planet with them.

There was no bond that could stop them from killing. Just like in that video.

But there was a bond Darius knew to to be stronger than the friendships or casual groups that they had, than the friendship between him and Junko.

Abby committed suicide.

Abby was an idiot, too. But way different from the Cochise idiots. A hard-working, honest, pure idiot. An idiot that did not deserve to live in this fucked up place. An idiot who believed in god.

"Abby, if you can hear me."

Perhaps. He existed? To Darius, Abby was more god than God himself, though.

"You're in a better place than this right now. While you go to heaven, we stay in hell."

Darius had to think about Bradley. How was he doing? He did not want to lose him, too. Then, his mind shifted to someone more pleasant, he knew they weren't going to die the next few hours. To his parents. But that felt even worse.

And then Darius walked away to get rid of the feeling.

((Darius Van Dyke continued in Just People In A Messed Up Place))