((Continued from All Time Low))
"I am steeped in blood, so deep that to return would be as tedious to go o'er..."
I hope that wound I gave Lenny is hurting him as much as this one is killing me. In that case, I think I just about broke even in that encounter.
It hadn't been long since the fight at the cottage, no more than five minutes was Bobby's guess. He was having a little difficulty in concentrating on things like the time, a gut shot would do that he supposed. Despite attempting to remain vigilant as he moved through the jungle, his concentration kept wavering. He was lucky he hadn't stepped on a landmine or been attacked. A man with a pointed stick could have taken Bobby down right about now, let alone somebody properly armed.
It's a little late to have second thoughts about this.
The pain in his stomach was acute as ever, a burning sensation quite unlike anything he had ever felt before. (which was hardly surprising, considering this was the first time Bobby had been shot). The ragged tear the bullet had caused was still oozing blood, despite the hand that Bobby had clamped firmly to it. Even as he walked he could feel a warm trickle running down the outside of his leg. It was stupid, but Bobby found it a little weird to have been injured. He'd been protected from the brunt of any attack for so long and come out of so many firefights unscathed that Bobby had been beginning to think he had a charmed life.
But of course, complacency had led to nothing but trouble. That was a lesson that Bobby should have picked up from Tyson, way back on Day 1. You couldn't take anything for granted, especially here.
One chance is more than I've given anybody else so far, so I strongly advise you to take it!"
Bobby diverted his attention from his shuffling feet for a moment to glance up and was surprised to find that he'd broken the treeline without even noticing. Somehow, he'd blundered into the middle of a field of flowers... a feeling of familiarity struck him then. Last time he had been here, it was dark, but Bobby recognised the place by the smell. The field was one of the few places that didn't currently reek of death, though Bobby wagered that there was a corpse or two hidden amongst the flowers somewhere.
He tried to take a step forward, but his standing leg buckled and he pitched to one side, landing heavily on his back. Bobby blinked a couple of times, his vision bleary, but after a few moments, he slowly picked himself up. Clearly, it was only going to get worse from here. He had nothing like the medical aptitude he'd need to even begin trying to treat his injury. At the same time, it didn't take a genius to tell you that having a bullet lodged somewhere in your guts was bad for your health.
Well, let's just say people haven't really been willing to talk.
Still, this time around, he made it to his feet. He stood there for a moment, just on the fringes of the jungle, thoughtfully looking down at the gun he held in his free hand. It had caused a lot of grief through the game, but it was Bobby who had been wielding it. The gun wasn't to blame and nor was Danya. It was the people on the island that killed. Sure, he was the man behind it all, but ultimately, all he did was sit back and set things in motion.
But that's the beauty of this show, isn't it? It's not you pulling the trigger or holding the knife, it's us, and we're the ones killing others,
Bobby found himself thinking back all the way to Day 1, when he had addressed the man through one of his security cameras. He'd come dangerously close to insanity then, but had hauled himself back from the brink over time. Funny how it had taken so long for the full ramifications of his actions to sink in...
Because not one of us has the guts not to claw for every inch, every second of life we enjoy. I've started clawing already. Enjoy the show,
No, he muttered under his breath. Then, a moment later, more loudly. No, his voice was calm. I'm done. Finished, Bobby shifted his daypack from his shoulder and weighed it in his hands for a moment, wincing as the blood flow from his side intensified. Perhaps his palm had been doing some good after all. Bobby's fingers clenched at the straps of his bag and he hurled it from him, the pack disappearing amongst the flowers.
"I'll tell you this the nice way shall I?
It felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and not just in the literal sense that he wasn't carrying a load any more. Bobby looked from one side to the other, trying to locate the nearest camera. Once he had done, he headed over to it, before taking a deep breath and preparing to speak with the man in charge for a third and final time.
Well Danya, looks like this is it. I hope you got your kicks out of watching me shooting my way across the island. Must have made for good viewing huh?
You will face repercussions for your actions. Somewhere along the line.
You know, I missed the point before, even though I touched on the truth the first time around. Yeah that's right, all the way back on the first day. Our first little 'chat' was when I came closest to getting it right. I just didn't realise it. I never had to play. Killing Tyson didn't make my time here a foregone conclusion the way I thought. But hey, shoulda, woulda, coulda right?
He's taking the easy option out, and now that he's chosen that path, he's doomed to walk it until the day he dies!"
The thing is... Bobby smiled at the camera. This is about entertainment, it's about putting on a show isn't it? If nobody played at all, even if you blew every collar on the island, you would still lose. You'd get nothing out of it, you'd just be seen as a lunatic. If nobody killed anybody else... it would make a successful abduction meaningless. Your point would never be proven,
"What, you really thought you were going to get rid of me that easily?
Bobby checked his SIG. One bullet, the last he had left after his gunfight. Fleetingly, he wondered how Shameeca was doing with his other weapon. He hoped she wasn't dead, but at the same time... did she deserve the burden of being the sole survivor? ... Nevermind, it wasn't important.
It's too late to lay down our weapons now, but there's another way of doing this, Bobby pressed the barrel of his pistol against his chin. What I didn't realise is that... if we refuse to play... we win,
B06, BOBBY JACKS. ELIMINATED.
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- Joined: May 28th, 2007, 12:31 pm
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