[Player Log Start!]
[Log Holder: Verity Monroe]
[Level: 2]
From the very beginning, Jared was there. It had been Jared and Verity, pushing the boundaries of the world, daring to be struck down by the hell they called home.
Michael had come somewhere in between all that. One of those people they helped along their journeys, with Jared’s optimism being what it was. Most left them eventually, nothing but roadside attractions in their journey. But Michael had stayed.
He had stayed, fixed himself to her side, and followed them into the Game when he had no reason to be there.
And for those reasons, he was dead.
Drowned by the looks of it. By a Harbinger, according to Tench. It might as well be by her own hands.
Her vision was stained red, and she wished that it was from Michael’s blood, but it was obviously the redsight. She couldn’t even be gracious enough to grieve for him properly. She had to let herself fall victim to this again. Become the worst part of herself again.
She was turning into one of them again.
And she couldn’t even feel the grief and disgust that she should be, buried as it was under that sickening sweet glee as her fingers snatched a bird from the sky and fingernails pierced straight into its guts.
[Killed a Raven (Lv.3)!]
[+15 Exp]
It was a bird. Just a bird. Nothing of substance. She needed something that she could get her teeth into. Not these annoyances that were trying – and succeeding – to snatch pieces of her skin and muscle off her body. She barely even registered the pain as her hands swooped around, cold and clinical. Eliminating any target in reach.
She could track, if she looked around, and tried to ignore the very tempting morsels of disappointment. There were others on this island, larger creatures than the birds. Humans? Humans she recognized. Living ones. Not like- not like Michael.
They wouldn’t satisfy this bloodlust either. Verity needed a Harbinger.
Through the gusts of wind propelled by the corvids, a strange smell carried over, and her nose twitched slightly. Intertwined with the salt and the bird droppings, there was… smoke. Acrid, bitter smoke that lay heavy on your tongue and seemed to choke the life out of you, laced through with something that smelled almost like a lightning strike, and three times more dangerous. It was a Harbinger.
Verity’s focus zeroed in on the source of that insipid smell, and the birds seemed to understand that the were no longer the targets of her wrath, quickly moving to allow her safe passage to her true victim.
There was a blue-haired woman, right in Verity’s line of sight, but with her back to the true threat in favor of looking at a boy who was lying crumpled on the ground, stained red with blood.
He looked so much like a withered puppet that Verity took a second to recognize Jared. The liar. She was almost tempted to sit back and allow the Harbinger to kill him. One problem would take care of the other, and then she could destroy the one left standing.
Before the Harbinger could strike the first – and, likely, final – blow, Ben barreled out of the hovering cloud of smoke and birds to slam into the Harbinger’s shoulder. The woman snarled, skidding a little in the sand, but otherwise keeping her footing. A hand darted forward to grab Ben before she could retreat, teeth bared in rage.
But then she dragged her eyes up and down Ben.
“You.” She blinked, snarl twisting into a bloodthirsty grin, “Benedict the Medic. Funny to see you putting yourself on the chopping block.”
“Leave him alone, Ciera.” Ben spat, struggling to free herself from the nails digging into her wrist, “I was the one who fought you last time, remember?”
Ciera scoffed, a tendril of black solid matter reached out to pin Ben’s wrists together and hang her in the air, all her rage focused on her. Verity hesitated at the back of this scene, trying to decide whether to jump in or not. Jared had proved himself to be untrustworthy. Sooner or later she was going to have to let him die – why had he even made it further than Michael? The one who was always there?
“I remember.” Ciera replied, the black smog around her shivering, “And I was going to get to it eventually. The boy was just going to satiate me before I got to you.”
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But Verity liked Benedict. The vet worked hard to keep them all in one piece and one place. She knew how people worked better than Verity did, and her medical skills would be needed further down the line, no matter how long this Game would go.
Ben licked her lips and lifted her chin impetuously, as if she wasn’t completely at Ciera’s mercy, “Well, you got me. Think you’re up for a rematch?”
Ciera glared, “Well, if your friend isn’t here to help you cheat, so I think you should be the one worried.”
She was right. If Verity didn’t step in now, Ben would die.
The trigger of a gun had never felt so easy to pull. The corresponding gunshot sounded muffled to her ears, as if it was fired underwater, even though she was standing right there, watching as Ciera buckled, the bullet hitting her square in the arm, resulting in a spurt of blood.
Ben was dropped by whatever force was keeping her in the air, and she landed squarely on the beach, only to have arms pinned again by one of the tendrils Ciera had camouflaged against the smoke. Ciera snapped around to look at Verity, eyes glowing through the steadily thickening smog.
“You.” She growled, stalking forward, “You’re one of us. Why are you doing this?”
Verity flinched at the words. She made it sound so easy. Verity was one of them. More intrinsically like Ciera, Burks, and Roiland than the Players she had fought with for the last year.
Instead of replying, she aimed her gun squarely at the Harbinger’s forehead. Daring her to make a wrong move. Ciera’s lips twitched, and something dark flickered through the air towards Verity.
She pulled back, just in time to stop the solid tendril from grabbing her leg, but not fast enough to avoid the gun from being snatched out of her hands.
Metal crunched easily in the tentacle’s grip, the twisted remnants of the weapon scattering on top of Verity’s head. She ground her teeth in frustration. There was one last gun in her jacket, and pulling it out now was just asking for it to be taken away too. She was going to have to play the long game.
“Are there any more of your little gang of annoyances around, or is this it?” Ciera asked with a sigh, rubbing at the bullet wound in her arm.
Verity tried to stop herself from automatically glancing backwards to where she had encountered Tench and Lucky. If they played their cards right, it was still possible to regroup and get the upper hand. All of Verity’s ranged weapons were gone, but if she could get a little closer to Ciera, then she could get in a hit-
Her thoughts were cut short by the sound of ripping flesh and snapping bone.
Ben’s head was wrenched all the way around. Three hundred and sixty degrees, until the tendons were stretched to breaking and her spine began jutting out from the nape of her neck.
Her eyes were blank. Frozen in confusion and horror. When the tendrils released her, she fell stiffly into the sand, face-first. There was no movement. Just inches away from her, Jared’s mouth was gaping with horror, but his eyes were refusing to look at where Ben had landed, still fixated on where her head had been just a few moments ago.
“I am not like Burks.” Ciera spat, “I am not weak. I am not to be trifled with. And I know when you are laying a trap for me, so I assure you, do not try it if you don’t want to end up like her.”
For good measure, she kicked the body too. That final push was what disconnected Ben’s head from her body, blood sputtering out from her neck.
Verity couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t taste the salt or the smoke anymore. She was just waiting for more rage to overcome her all over again. And yet- and yet-
None of it came.
There was no more anger to give.
Nothing to fuel the screams she wanted to hurl at the sky and the blades she wanted to dig into Ciera to make her bleed.
Verity just stood there, stewing in her shock.
[Character Switch Requested]
[Switch to Character Slot Lucinda Hemmings(1)?]
[{x} Yes { } No]
[Transferring Player Character Log…]
[New Log Holder: Lucinda Hemmings(1)]
Lucinda awoke in a world thick with smoke and blood.
Ben was lying dead, just a few meters away, and next to her was Jared, curled and looking so pathetic, she almost thought that he had met a similar fate. Until he took a shuddering breath and let out a sob.
Why had she asked to tap in again?
It had seemed so easy, looking at the situation from an abstract view. But now, on the island, surrounded by the death and danger of it all, it felt real. And hopeless.
Lucinda had thought that her matter shifting could provide them an upper edge, now that Verity had lost her nerve, but she was wrong. She wasn’t a fighter. Her muscles were seizing, telling her to flee as the Harbinger with bright blue hair watched inquisitively.
“A different Character Slot?” She wondered aloud, her eyes flashing in understanding, “Ah! Your files are still stored in the old filing system, aren’t you? Otherwise that transfer wouldn’t be possible any longer. We got rid of that function once the Harbingers stopped being weak enough to be revived.”
Lucinda didn’t respond. Her knees felt weak. Maybe Ciera picked up on that, because her head tilted to the side as she crooned, “What? Something wrong? The other one was so much more vicious.” Her head jolted to the side suddenly, losing all her cruel amusement as she cupped her ear around some communication device, “What do you mean Paterson made a break for it? The Monroe bitch sealed him so good he could never get out- alright, alright, keep your hair on.”
Tendrils erupted from the ground, pulling Lucinda down and wrapping her up securely. If she craned her head to the side, she could see Jared struggling against the same restraints. The tentacles dragged her through the sands and towards him, leaving the two in a pile.
“You lot!” Ciera barked at the birds which had at this point taken roost around them, content in watching the show, “Watch the group and make sure they don’t run. Or you’re never getting another safe nest again!”
They cawed in unison, and she stomped away, leaving Lucinda and Jared sitting, with no option other than to look at Ben’s steadily cooling body in tense silence.
[Player Log End!]