Hello everyone, it's ultimateTORINOR here, with Chapter 21 of TDNC. Thanks to Winter Break (which will unfortunately be ending in two days for me), I was able to write this chapter as fast as I was. I owe it to all of you who stuck by this story during its unofficial four month hiatus, after all.
Now, about the chapter itself...
For a nice change, I'm very pleased with how this came out. I personally think it's a testament to how much I've improved over the last year (You could read Truly A Long Time Ago, which was written and published exactly a year ago, and compare it to this chapter of TDNC. I think you'll notice some glaring differences.). Anyway, in this installment, you'll get to see what the substitute challenge is, and find out that I throw yet another curveball! One downside to this chapter, however, is that not every character has lines. I apologize sincerely for this error, but know that it had to be done. I don't own the Total Drama series, and Happy Reading!
And a Happy New Year, as well!
Chris Maclean, for the moment reduced to a shell of his former self, knelt on the kitchen floor and clutched at Chef Hatchet's leg. The chef, who was in the unfortunate position of a captive audience, tried to glare hatefully but found it was impossible. The man on the floor was too pitiable to truly hate. Chef Hatchet cleared his throat, effectively cutting across the host's hiccups of grief and woe.
"What do you want me to do?"
Chris Maclean sniffed, and mumbled a reply. "I don't know. That thing you do when you always solve problems."
Chef raised an eyebrow. "Problem solving?"
Chris nodded in assent, too broken up at the thought of losing his many private homes located on sunny beaches to verbally respond.
The chef shook the usually sadistic television host loose after much effort, and then couldn't resist lacing his next words with a fair helping of contempt for the man who would use and discard so many in an effort to achieve the comfortable lifestyle they "deserved". He, Chef Hatchet, could leave him to rot. He could just walk away. Some might even say it was justified. But Chef Hatchet was not the kind of man to just simply walk away from his problems. Some might commend him for that, but to the unfortunate chef it was a hollow victory. To be shackled is to live a prisoner's life, was it not?
"Think of a lie that's believable. You're good for that, at least."
Chris looked confused at those words, and could only stare at the chef's back as the big man walked towards the door. "Why?"
Chef Hatchet sighed, and with an air of a patient adult speaking in simple terms to a small child, he related what was a simple concept to most everyone. Everyone besides Chris Maclean, it seemed.
"It seems like a small thing now, right? They don't like the challenge, they say its been done too many times before. What if, the next time they call you, they say that they don't like the bad boy character, that he's not original enough? They tell you to get rid of him. That's an entirely different matter.
"Would you tell the 21 kids still in the show that some of their fates will be decided by men drunk with power? Would you go to Playa Des Losers and tell one of those three that they chose him to be eliminated? All of his considerable strength was wasted. Would you right the wrongs, Chris? Lose everything to gain the titles of honest and respectable?"
Chris Maclean immediately shook his head forcibly, and tried not to fall into a second fit of hysterics as he imagined his many piles of money vanishing in an instant.
Chef smirked, and even then there was a hint of sadness and regret in his dark eyes, for the one chance that the television host had forever squandered. "I didn't think so. That's why you have to lie today."
The chef shook his head and strolled out after those words, not wanting to rest his eyes on the form of Chris Maclean for a moment longer.
The host remained where he was as he mulled over Chef's words in his brain for a moment. A lot of what he said didn't really make much sense to the sadistic host, but one thing had been rooted in his brain: if the campers ever found out that the producers played a major role in the show's outcome, heads would roll.
And his beautifully sculpted head would be the first to go.
Chris Maclean tried not to cringe at that unpleasant fact, and then wracked his brains for the first time in recent memory…
Lily stared up at Addy, who was situated precariously on the roof of their cabin. Finally, the worry she was so obviously feeling could not stay silent for a moment longer. "Addy! You could really hurt yourself! Please don't do this!"
The female daredevil did not share the sweet girl's concern, smirking and eyeing the considerable distance between the two cabins. "Relax, Lily. I've done this three other times in my life. I've got this."
Inola simply shook her head and began to walk back down towards the beach, heading in the direction that Ethan and Donnie had taken minutes before. Tyson Vosavic, on the other hand, was not about to miss "the spectacular leap of destiny", as the female daredevil had called it, and was watching the rooftop spectacle eagerly. The delinquent smiled in spite of the risks, as if he would be glad to see the Addy fail and plummet to the ground. His eagerness was lost on poor Lily, who was too wrapped up in her concern for her teammate and friend to notice such trivial matters.
Addy smirked determinately, and then blocked out all thoughts and sights besides the one that mattered most: the other cabin's roof. She pictured and reveled in seeing herself fly through the air, arms reaching out to secure a handhold, and then success. The female daredevil let that particular feeling fill her entire being, and then climbed expertly to the highest point of the starting roof. She breathed in, out, and then, throwing all sense of caution to the winds, ran down the slight decline and launched herself off into space.
Addy was so focused on her goal that she didn't even hear Lily's piercing scream of terror. She was flying.
Takbir yawned, the heat of the day (and the generally boring events that had come with it) beginning to take its toll on him. The comedian struggled as much as he was able, but try as he might, it wasn't enough to keep his eyelids from drooping and the comforting embrace of calm sleep to take a hold of him. Until...
Wsssshhhhht!
The pleasantness of sleep was instantly forgotten as a sudden and unexpected pain erupted from his chest, and the poor comedian yowled in pain, while the five teammates who were still around him looked on in concern. Alison, naturally, wanted to take control and crush the potential chaos, so she directly questioned Takbir, who by this point was writhing in pain, somehow turning extreme pain into a humorous breakdance of sorts.
"What on Earth happened?"
The comedian immediately flopped onto his back and reached skyward with one hand, the other clutching at his injured chest, covering his grievous wound. His normally laughing features were distinctly marked with a grimace of pain, and his breathing came in short gasps. He licked his suddenly dry lips and attempted to respond. "They got me, commander. There was nothing I could do. I tried to hit one of the bastards for you..."
His blue eyes seemed to lose some of their light at that moment, and his breathing seemed to get shallower. His teammates tensed at that moment, and they would have been prepared to accept that Takbir Bashir was going to die had it not been for one little thing. The hand that had been reaching for the endless blue sky and the occasional cloud had dropped to his mohawk, which had always been a particular source of pride for the comedian.
And that hand continued to pat and perfect the hairstyle long after he had apparently ceased to breathe. Not a person on the Screaming Gryphons reacted to the strange scene for a moment, but finally Zak cleared his throat.
"You're laying it on a bit thick, mate."
Without opening his eyes, Takbir responded, "What gave me away?"
Despite her serious nature, Alison could feel the ghost of a smile appearing. "You just can't leave your hair alone."
Lyn was eyeing the catalyst of the entire scene, smirking all the while. "Not to mention your blood's green."
Gracie was at first jealous at that fact, as her blood was not green, but as the hyperactive dancer focused more and more on the substance, excitement soon replaced her brief flash of jealousy. "It's not just green, it's paint!"
A chuckling that had gone on unnoticed by the six for some time finally registered, and the group whirled around to find the culprit.
"So it was Ripley, outside, and with the paintball gun?"
The girly sports harasser smirked and curtsied, an odd combination. "Guilty on all charges. It was getting a little boring around here. I thought I might as well liven things up."
Her offhand explanation seemed to strike a nerve with Alison. After all, Takbir could have seriously been hurt! And, although she wasn't particularly fond of her comedian teammate, it was still her duty as team leader to inform Ripley of the risks of her potentially dangerous prank. Before she could, however, Gracie sprinted over to the girly sports harasser, who then laid the "murder weapon" in her teammate's hands. The enormity of the situation hit the others like a ton of bricks. Gracie Jonnalson officially had a weapon.
Jason then decided to ask a question that should have been asked long before any of this had occurred. "Gracie, what exactly is your talent?"
The hyperactive dancer could only cackle madly in reply, an action that was a carbon copy of a certain insane jester nearing the fruition of his destructive plans. While Gracie didn't have an endless supply of magic at her disposal, she did have a paintball gun, and that alone was enough to strike fear in her teammates' hearts. As she began to level the paint-filled gun at them, the members of the Screaming Gryphons who were not fortunate enough to be in a deep sleep or distracted in their cabin suddenly realized that it was a little too late to dive for cover.
Not that there was much to hide behind anyway, as they had unconsciously drifted away from the cabins, and the forest was far too far away to make a clean escape. But dive they did, hoping against hope that Gracie wasn't as crazy as they (besides Jason) knew she was. They dived because, in face of certain death, the human mind finds impossible solutions and deems them reasonable.
And then the paint balls started to fly.
Ethan was closely watching his teammate, making sure that Donnie's despair, lurking just under the surface, wouldn't cause the metal head rocker any harm, when he heard something. It was a faint, indistinguishable noise, and coming closer all the while. The assassin's battle-torn mind jumped to several illogical conclusions before settling on the correct response: someone was approaching. The assassin kept his eyes trained on his teammate lying in the water, though he remained aware of all that was behind him, one of the many skills he had learned in his line of work.
"Are you always so uptight?"
Inola Black Bear now stood beside him where nothing had been a moment ago. When he spared a glance in her general direction, the rebel was keeping her emotions in check, though the assassin was certain that she was laughing behind her onyx eyes. Laughing that she had bested him at his own game. Ethan knew that this was why he followed her: only she possessed the abilities to turn a person's greatest strength against them. She had his unwavering respect, but there was something foreign coupled with that respect, and it would not stop haunting him every time he looked at her. Still, he was utterly confident that he would overcome this strange feeling, whatever it was. He had to.
The assassin looked back to his charge, who was still floating on his back, eyes closed. Floating in darkness.
"Just doing the job you gave me, ma'am."
A curious blend of confusion and annoyance flitted across her face, but the rebel effectively mastered it and replaced the look of detached unconcern within seconds. Under that mask, Inola's thoughts were more chaotic than her calm exterior let on. A single word kept reemerging in her brain, and though normally she would have kept such things silent, today she gave that word voice.
"Why?"
Ethan froze, and then visibly relaxed. Surely it wasn't a hard question to answer? It was because of duty. He had been given an assignment and he was completing it to the best of his ability. He was following orders. But there was that strange feeling, even now! Duty wasn't the answer, at least not completely it. And until he knew what mysteries now resided in his frame, he couldn't answer her question.
Donnie moved in the water at that moment, and the sudden sound ruined the stillness and quiet of the scene. Both rebel and assassin flinched, and the question was suddenly forgotten. The metal head rocker eventually stilled once more, and everything returned to the peaceful state that ruled this part of the island. Something had shifted in Ethan and Inola, and both of them knew it. Without another word, the rebel walked away, as if seeking safety from the assassin's unspoken answer. Ethan did not move from his spot, but instead continued his vigil. He forced his mind from mysterious feelings and shadows of doubt and instead focused all of his attention on his duty. He was safe in the familiar, at least.
The Loner League, in their secluded spot in the forest, was still hidden from prying eyes. Zane was finding solace in the worn pages of his book, while Zarya was doing her best to not acknowledge that the reader existed. Rodrek was looking at the pair with a raised eyebrow, though he had a slight smirk on his masked face. The three were alone for the moment, as Charlie had gone off by herself, taking her painting materials with her. Silence reigned supreme in this part of the island for now, and that was a welcome fact for the three. They each had noticed, at some point in their lives, that their talents were best used in environments such as these.
There was a slight shuffle of leaves and foliage, and then the painter returned to the quiet group. Zane glanced up in annoyance at the interruption, his concentration broken and eyes flashing red, and then quickly returned to the world of pages. Zarya aimed yet another glare at the reader. As far as the Russian was concerned, they may be on the same team, and they may have performed challenges together, but that would never make them friends. He was just so infuriating. And that truly was the right word. He had almost gotten her eliminated. The loner would be sure to take care that she never found herself in such a dangerous position again. It was much too early for mistakes.
Rodrek alone focused his attention on Charlie. There was still a presence of darkness within her, that much was clear. It was almost overwhelming at times. But, there were certain times when he knew the darkness lifted temporarily. And for such a lost soul, those certain times could save you. Painting was one of those small salvations, he was sure. And, during one of their singing rehearsals, away from everyone else, he could have sworn that she looked at him differently. Could it be that being around him was another of those so important times? He tried to see the answer in her face, but she merely turned away. Maybe not, then. Still, the masked teen thought there was a chance that she-
Suddenly, the familiar pain rushed from the core of his being, and every conscious thought suddenly short-circuited.
The silence that was the element of the Loner League was broken harshly by Rodrek's grunt of pain. And then, before the three present could react, the masked teen spoke, a voice drastically different from his own issuing from his mouth.
"The chaos grows, due to one who feeds the flames of vengeance. Little does he know that the fire will burn him instead."
Chef Hatchet ran through the trees, deep within the confines of the forest. He was beginning to tire, as even though he was still in top physical shape, he had never much enjoyed running long distances. Finally, as if some divine deity had heard his plea to stop his seemingly endless search, he found the perfect place. It would have been any normal tree to anyone else, but Chef knew better. Even now, he could see the faded marks of C+A right in front of his face. For the world to see. The chef felt tears well up in his eyes, and a slight tear in a wound he thought long healed. It would be the perfect place, and of course its significance would be lost to the world. But it was enough for him.
The grieving chef pulled the object that had brought him out here, a carefully polished and preserved medal, and laid it reverently at the base of the wonderful tree. As soon as that was done, Chris Maclean's voice crackled out of a walkie-talkie connected to his waist.
"Chef, you there? Did you find a good spot?"
Chef unclipped the device and raised it to his mouth. "You'll get to keep your mansions, Pretty Boy. Heading back to camp."
Chris responded back almost immediately. "Good. Hurry back, because you won't want to miss what I've got planned. The Superiors are going to love it."
A sadistic chuckle was the last thing the chef heard before he turned the device off. The chef looked at the tree one last time, and then turned away, back towards the way he had come. Time to go.
"Campers, please report to the mess hall for a special announcement. Oh, and I hope you didn't work too hard on your act for the talent show."
Chris's announcement instantly put an end to all activity on the island. Mina stuck her head out of the Screaming Gryphons' cabin, dressed majestically and glaring royally at where she thought the sadistic host was sitting and laughing at them all.
"What do you mean by that, Chris Maclean?"
The television host would not answer her question, leaving the dramatic actress with no other option but to go to the mess hall to confront him herself. Samantha followed, holding up the end of her friend's beautiful dress with difficulty. The Screaming Gryphons who had been unfortunate enough to be used as Gracie's victims picked themselves up painfully from their grassy graves and limped away, trying their best to ignore the stabs of pain and the paint that now stained their clothes.
Confessions
Alison: The future lawyer glared hatefully at the camera. "If we ever lose, I am going to make sure that Gracie pays for this."
End
The Loner League emerged shortly after from the woods, Rodrek being supported somewhat by the other three. If one was to look at the masked teen at this precise moment, it would have been easy to tell that something was not quite right with him. His head, lolling from side to side, was flushed with an intense heat. At the same time, Ethan and Donnie came up from their peaceful spot on the beach, the former keeping a comforting hand on the latter's shoulder all the while. A more serious scene was developing at the cabin area. Tyson, eyes burning with humiliation, was carrying Addy over his shoulder, the female daredevil looking deathly still. Lily trailed slightly behind the pair, eyes filled with worry.
Finally, everyone had made it to the mess hall in one fashion or another. It was time to see what Chris Maclean had cooked up this time.
"Chris, Addy needs to get to the infirmary-"
"I really need something for these wounds-"
"They really hurt-"
"Mate, you would not want to go through the pain we're experiencing right now-"
"Rodrek's getting worse-"
"Logan and Alister are still asleep-"
"How did they even get in here-"
A lone voice suddenly cut through the chaos. "BE QUIET!"
Everything stilled instantly as Chef Hatchet walked into the mess hall, chest heaving and looking like any small thing would send him into a fit of rage. The large chef glared at every camper, as if daring them to speak up.
Confessions
Chef Hatchet: The large chef grunted apologetically. "I've never liked to run. It messes with my head, gets me worked up. Sometimes, too worked up."
End
After making sure that there would be no interruptions, the chef addressed the still-large group of campers. "Make no mistake, those campers who need medical attention will receive it. If you wish to stay with them, I will allow it just this one time. But first, your host Chris Maclean has an announcement that is very important."
Even if they were loathe to, all 21 remaining campers (minus Logan and Alister) turned their attention toward the sadistic television host, who was standing on a raised platform to give himself the illusion of authority. He smiled a dazzling smile, and after a little pause, began to speak.
"Campers, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but I'm afraid that we're going to have to cancel the talent show."
He chuckled as the chaos broke out again momentarily, particularly from the Screaming Gryphon table. Mina was now shouting furiously, but the dramatic actress was being drowned out by her teammates, who were just as angry that they had been shot with paint balls for nothing.
In his element, Chris Maclean smirked and continued, holding one hand behind his back as he did so. "Yes, I'm afraid that there was a terrible explosion that destroyed the entire stage. You must have heard it."
The campers were about to protest that there had been no explosion when Chris subtly pressed the button on the remote that he had been hiding from plain sight, which triggered the pile of explosives he had made the two unfortunate interns place on the stage itself. There was a harsh boom in the distance, a certain noise that one could only attribute to an explosion.
There was a silence after the noise had faded, which was then broken by a body hitting the floor. Mina had fainted, and nothing her shy bookworm friend did made any progress to wake her. Chris smiled widely at the sight, and then opened his too-perfect mouth once more.
"Fortunately, Chef and I have come up with a special replacement challenge! I'm giving you 24 hours to enter the forest, find the medal we've hidden, and get out again."
The sadistic host turned to the large chef suddenly, and motioned towards the door. "Injured people and friends, this is where you get off for the episode. Chef will take you all to infirmary, where you'll most likely be treated for your injuries. Of course, there's always a chance that something could go horribly wrong and you die, but that's what the fine print on your contracts is for!"
Rodrek, supported only by Charlie, left, followed by Ripley and Lyn, who had taken the brunt of the paint ball offensive. Chef, carrying the comatose forms of Logan, Alister, and Mina, shuffled out next, while Lily accompanied Addy, the female daredevil spouting nonsense and sporting a nasty bump on her head. No one else made a move to the door and to the safety of the infirmary after the sweet girl, and so Chris surveyed how many people were actually left to compete in the replacement challenge.
Six left on both sides. Enough for the challenge, of course, but the sadistic host had yet another trick up his sleeve. One that he hoped The Superiors would appreciate. "For the twelve of you remaining, know that I'm disbanding the teams for this challenge! I told you this challenge was special!"
This declaration brought on a state of unease among the campers still left, as their comrades had suddenly become enemies. They had fought with them, won with them, and lost with them. And now they were supposed to turn their backs, just like that?
The sadistic television host cleared his throat obnoxiously, drawing the spotlight back to him again, where it belonged. "I'll divide you up into groups of four."
He eyed Donnie and Tyson, who were now glaring fiercely at one another. "This is going to be fun."
Right as the last camper had left the mess hall, Chris Maclean's cell phone rang. Immediately knowing who wanted to get a hold of him, the sadistic host accepted the call, ending the obnoxious ringtone, and pressed the device to his ear.
"Hello, Mr. Talons, sir."
There was a silence on the other line, and for one terrible moment, Chris thought that the powerful man had called to yell at him. Or even worse, tell him that he was fired and the show was officially cancelled. But the voice that spoke was made of honeyed words and pleasant sounds, all of which made Chris Maclean very pleased with himself with every word that was uttered.
"I'm seeing some of the footage now. Mr. Maclean, I'm pleased to see that you know how to do your job. I'm very pleased to know that you know who to answer to."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
"I reward those who are loyal to me, Mr. Maclean. I reward them well. But know that my favor can easily be recalled if you make such an idiotic mistake again."
The honey in the powerful man's voice had quickly turned to poison, and all of the sadistic television host's self-confidence evaporated instantly. He stood, petrified, as his superior continued to talk. "Remember, your life's on the line. It's been satisfying to talk with you, Mr. Maclean. I can assure you that you'll hear from me again soon."
And then Chris Maclean was listening to empty air. The now slightly richer television host legs were shaking terribly, and he suddenly felt the need to sit down. An unshakable fear had entered his being, one that wouldn't leave him for some time yet. One thing was certain, though. Whatever Gregory Talons wanted, he, Chris Maclean, would do his absolute best to provide.
The three groups entered the dense forest at one of the worst possible times: when the sun was beginning its descent. Visibility, already not at its best, would continue to get worse until it would become nonexistent. Worse still, they had been given no supplies and were now most certainly "doomed to wander to forest for all eternity", according to some of the more pessimistic members of the twelve remaining campers. And to top it all off, the groups were prohibited from helping one another in any way, and to do so would invite instant elimination. And this all said nothing about the ferocious beasts that came out after the sun had set and night reigned over Wawanakwa Island.
Needless to say, most of the campers were wishing that they had taken that free trip to the infirmary.
"I don't care what illegal tactics you have in mind. We're going to win, and we're going to do it my way!"
Tyson, who had just previously suggested waiting near camp to ambush the medal-holding team and steal victory, shrugged and smirked at Alison devilishly. "Fine. We'll do things your way for now. I'm sure you'll come around soon enough."
The future lawyer attempted to intimidate the delinquent into submission with her patented "Stare of Death", but there was something in the latter's dark brown eyes that thoroughly creeped her out. Though she was loathe to do so, she turned to the last two members of the group, trying her best to ignore Tyson's oh-so-obvious smirk of victory.
"Donnie? Any ideas?"
The metal head rocker ignored her completely, as he had focused all of his attention and anger at Tyson. "Be watching, dude. I said that I'd kill you, and I'm going to do it on international television."
The delinquent raised an eyebrow, and a twisted laugh issued out of his mouth. "Really? Let's go then, right now."
Then, there was complete silence. Everyone and everything seemed to be watching Donnie, to see if he would take Tyson's challenge. The teen had frozen, jaw set, considering every possible outcome that would arise if he were to charge right now. Finally, he turned away, ignored the delinquent's low chuckle, and walked away from his conflict, farther into the forest.
Confessions
Donnie: The metal head rocker punched the wall in frustration. "I can't fight him yet. It has to be on my terms. Everyone who stood in my way is gone."
He stared determinedly at the camera. "I'll get my revenge. I just need to wait for the right moment. The Dude In The Sky owes me that much."
End
Alison whispered to Samantha, who was the final member of their small group, "Follow him. We need to keep these two separated as much as possible."
The shy bookworm, who still hadn't uttered a word, paused for the briefest of moments, and then started after her new teammate.
Tyson folded his arms and stared contemptuously at the metal head rocker's back. "I knew he wouldn't do it. He's just a pitiful coward at heart."
The delinquent then began to limp forward, muttering little nothings under his breath. His injuries were not healed in the slightest, and though the pain was great, he did not spare the energy to focus on it. He would get past this minor setback, because he was Tyson Vosavic. He would get past this, because nothing and no one had ever beaten him before.
Alison flinched when Tyson laughed with no warning, and then went after him. There was something definitely wrong with the teen limping along just ahead of her, but she couldn't tell what it was. Something inside of her said that it was a good thing she would never know the details. All she really knew was simply thus: that for the moment they were teammates, and that it was probably going to be the most uncomfortable journey through the woods she would ever experience in her lifetime.
"I spy, with my little eye, something that is green."
"Shut up, Takbir."
"I refuse to play this game again."
"I don't know, mate. I think it has some positive aspects."
"Only someone truly unintelligent and with no hope for a successful future would think such a thing."
"Hey!"
"I will stick with my previous statement."
Zak glanced at Takbir, who had protested, and then smirked mischievously at Zane, as if he knew just how to get under the reader's skin. "Don't fret much, mate of mine. Bloke's just upset that he isn't with Zarya for the first time in the competition."
The reader narrowed his eyes at his rival, who had smirked ever wider at seeing that his words had made some visible impact. "You're throwing empty words into the air."
The goth strategist deliberately turned to the comedian, ignoring the reader as if he was nothing to be concerned with. "It's the grass, isn't it?"
Takbir nodded, pleased that someone else recognized the value of I Spy. However, one question would not rest quietly in the confines of his mind, and the comedian soon had no choice but to sate his curiosity. "How'd you know, man?"
Zak simply grinned, and motioned onwards, deeper into the forest. "I guess I just have a bit of a knack for guessing games."
The two Screaming Gryphons walked and bantered on, leaving Zane and Inola, the two Killer Ligers, alone for a brief moment. The reader stood still, and while he kept his face carefully controlled, his strange eyes betrayed the fierce anger he was now feeling, pulsing a blood red that almost seemed to escape its immovable prison. The rebel simply watched the strange sight, but then opened her mouth and began to speak.
"We can't trust them."
Zane turned to face her, and abruptly the anger in his eyes had vanished. "And what's your plan?"
Inola grinned the smallest of grins, while her dark eyes hardened determinedly. "Strike before we are struck."
The reader nodded before starting off, calling back to the rebel over his shoulder. "Normally, I would say it would be too much work, but in this case I'll make an exception."
His new "partner in crime", however, stayed where she was. She would wait. She would watch. She would observe, as was her nature. This task needed to be performed at the right time. It needed to be swift and silent. The rebel reached for her necklace of charms, closing her hand around one in particular: the wolf. And then, the space that was recently occupied by Inola Black Bear now housed nothing. To the observing eye, it would have seemed that the teen had vanished into thin air, which was a truly disconcerting sight.
While the other two groups seemed to have problems, the last group was different. They had absolutely no idea where this medal could be, and so they just kept walking straight. This decision was not met with schemes, and they did not fight for leadership. It was almost...nice.
Still, it could not stop Ethan from looking at every tree, plant, and innocent woodland creature with a raised guard. Though he was expertly trained for stopping a threat with his bare hands when a situation required it, he had always felt more secure with a weapon, any weapon, in his hands.
"Catch!"
The assassin turned in the direction of the voice, and effortlessly caught the paintball gun that had been previously hurtling towards his unprotected head. Thinking nothing of its strange appearance into his life, he tested the balance and aim, which were the most important aspects of any gun, and found both areas to be satisfactory. This being done, Ethan nodded to the speaker and then walked slightly ahead of his new teammates. If anything wanted to attack the group, it would first have to go through him.
From Jason's back pocket, Arbok had surveyed the scene that had just taken place. "Was that wise, Gracie? To give him, the enemy, our only weapon?"
Jason tried to glare in the direction of his back pocket, but after finding out that it was physically impossible, gently tapped the magical staff in reproach. "I'm sure Gracie had a good reason."
The hyperactive dancer smiled, and then withdrew her machete from somewhere on her person. Teen and staff were not entirely sure exactly where, as they had thought that Gracie had discarded a while back.
Her green eyes darted toward the armed assassin, and then back at the pair. "I couldn't just leave you guys defenseless down here!"
Jason was confused by her word choice, as she had clearly said 'down here' when they were standing at the same level. His confusion swiftly turned to shock as Gracie suddenly climbed the nearest tree without even losing her grip on her prized machete. When she had reached the last branch that would hold her weight, the hyperactive dancer looked down at her teammates, who were by now quite a long drop away.
"You guys keep walking! I'll keep an eye on the Squirrel Army scouts that are tailing us!"
Jason smiled up into the branches and continued on, suddenly feeling a whole lot safer. Of course, that didn't stop the explorer from glancing up from time to time to make sure that Gracie was still safely jumping from tree to tree. He tensed every time the hyperactive dancer launched herself into space, and relaxed every time she latched onto the next branch. Her safety paled in comparison to a near-worthless medal, and Jason vowed that he would be there to catch her if she were to ever slip and fall.
Zarya continued to walk a little ways away from the rest of her new team, lost in her thoughts. The loner had been inwardly relieved when Zane had been put in a different group, thinking that she might finally have a chance to concentrate on the challenge for once. But now, something didn't feel quite right. Zarya could almost feel an anger usually reserved specifically for the reader simmering under her skin, ready to erupt at the slightest annoyance. But Zane wasn't here, and she certainly couldn't start yelling and glaring at her new team if she wanted to continue her stay on the island. So the only thing she could do was let the volatile emotion be, and hope it would go away eventually. The loner sighed. Why was her life never easy?
No answer was forthcoming, leaving the troubled Zarya with only one option: to continue walking into the unknown.
The sun sank lower and lower, and it was now quite clear that the dark of night was fast approaching the island. For some, it promised the end of the day that had been full of strife and chaos. Some others were blissfully unaware of this inevitable fact taking place, as they were either indoors, heavily medicated against the unpleasantness of pain and injury, or in a deep, unbreakable sleep. Still more noted the change with a growing sense of alarm, knowing too well what dangers lurked in the night and possessing the uncomfortable knowledge that they were woefully unprepared to face such dangers. One or two of them were hungry, but that was neither here nor there. The final group welcomed the darkness that was to come with open arms, as night is a far better cloak that anything man-made. One teen waited for the right moment to strike, and two others schemed in secret, planning their betrayal, while their victims walked on unawares.
Finally, the sun and the its rays of light disappeared, leaving the 12 campers in the forest in almost total darkness, broken only by the far less superior light of the moon. All three groups had survived the afternoon without serious mishaps, but that was about to change. The forest of Wawanakwa Island was changing. Creatures of all shapes and sizes were emerging from their dens, caves, holes, and trees, and were now hunting. The atmosphere of the groups were also changing, as it was around this point that they were noticing how woefully unprepared they were to pass a somewhat comfortable night amongst the trees.
Seeing all of this from his comfortable chair that had wheels and swiveled around, once again surrounded by the many screens of the innumerable cameras set up in the forest, Chris Maclean chuckled sadistically. Total Drama the New Challenge was back and better than ever, thanks to a few calls, an awesome explosion, and some minor but very convenient injuries that were being seen to at that very moment. The sadistic host leaned back in his chair and sighed contentedly. Life was so good.
As for the three groups in the forest, their nightmare was just about to begin.
So, how was it? Am I sadly misguided when I thought it was good? Am I right on the money? I'd greatly appreciate it if you'd tell me so in a review. And, since I'm feeling a bit proud of myself (maybe a little too proud), I have to ask this one simple question.
Was this a good way to start off 2011?
Anyway, again I'll apologize to those who wanted to see certain characters participate in the fourth challenge. Fear not, know that they will appear next chapter in one way or another.
And, I'm going to make another poll on my profile. If it is not up by the time you finish reading, it will most definitely be up soon.
On an important note, school is starting up again, and combined with other certain things that I'll keep private (it's nothing serious, don't worry), I'm not sure how much time I'll have in the next few weeks to write. Still, if you've stayed faithful this long, I hope you can stay patient if the next chapter takes longer to develop and write than this one did.
That's all, I'm sure, so I'll say my farewells here. Farewell to all, and Happy New Year once more!
P.S. This is the gamer in me talking. Has anyone heard of the video game Enslaved: Odyssey to the West? I beat it last night, and found it to be a very satisfying experience. To anyone who knows what I'm talking about, how did you enjoy the game? I personally found the cutscenes to be fantastic, and some of the bosses were amazing to fight against.
Now I'm done.
-ult