Hello. Long time no see. I cannot get Far Cry 3 and Vaas out of my head...so here we go! This starts gentle then goes quite intense quite fast. It is meant to follow your traditional horror movie outline (start gentle, go crazy, big character development, plot twist, final girl type vibes). This will very loosely follow some canon. It will not be a rewrite of the plot of the game, or a rewrite of A Horror Story (my other Vaas fic).

Let's get the disclaimer out of the way: I do not own Far Cry, I make no profit, this is just a fanfic. Where movie quotes are used I will try to reference them immediately (within the two/three lines before or after) if it flows with the story, if not I will put them in some sort of A/N at the top of the chapter.

I hope you enjoy, and thank you for reading :)

"OK internet peoples, welcome to my vlog."

The shaky image makes you feel dizzy, and when it stills for a moment you see Vaas' familiar profile, Mohawked and scarred.

"We're here today to do some stretching. We need to get stretched so we can have hot sweaty senior sex."

He's holding the phone up, walking on the wooden planks of the area they call the canopy, a sort of wooden terrace overlooking the beach and shaded by the trees. He's walking amongst a group of very elderly people, all dressed in bright spandex.

"Let's get those endorphins going. Let's get those farts out, it's ok."

He slaps an elder man's ass ("Rupert I am sexually harassing you") then reaches a portable speaker and turns it on, "I'm sexy and I know it" blaring across the peaceful beach and through the phone.

Jane turns her volume down.

Vaas sets the phone on top of the speaker and it films him go over to the front and start doing aggressive pelvic thrusts whilst yelling at his elderly audience to get it on, motherfuckers, get them hips poppin'. The elderly motherfuckers do, exchanging bemused and amused looks. They just love Vaas' antics. No idea why, maybe it's the sheer outrageousness, but they just love it.

Jane swipes right, shaking her head.

The next story to pop up on her feed is Liza's.

A flattering still shot of the girl in her bikini, sitting at a table and sipping some fresh juice, looking out onto the sunrise. Jane taps. The next still is a view of Liza's breakfast, quinoa and fruit and whatever else influential girls eat.

Next story is Daisy, filming the beautiful beach. She's added a note that reads "morning jog - could be worse!".

Then it's all last night's stuff, starting with Jason's boomerang selfies inside the Raz, a local club, followed by Keith's daily pouty selfies at the gym.

Jane puts her phone down, stretches her arms in the air, the wooden chair creaking as she does so. In front of her on the desk is a copy of the book she's chosen to write her dissertation about during her gap year. Who the hell writes dissertations during gap years? Jane does, because Jane is boring, and Jane wants to be ready for uni, and Jane actually really likes reading books and writing about them. Yes, it's sad, she's aware of it. Everyone is aware of how sad that is.

Also, it gives her an excuse not to go jogging with Daisy, and not to go out for breakfast with Liza. Daisy's nice but she is insanely fit, and being out with Liza means you become her photographer, which never fails to make Jane feel incredibly inadequate.

So, dissertation it is, with a hefty side of procrastination. Jane takes another look at Liza's breakfast displayed artfully on her phone screen - there are at least six different elements to it and Jane can only name three. She grabs her bowl of ultra processed chocolate flavoured cereals and finishes it all before pouring herself another bowl. Sometimes, she thinks, sometimes when I make myself some pancakes I put some fruit with it. Well, one fruit. But I cut it up fancy...

"Hey!"

Jane jumps as Daisy, all glorious and glowy, enters their shared bungalow.

"You're ready? I'm gonna hit the shower then I'll be two seconds."

"Good jog?"

"Amazing! Really helps with the hangover. Did you have a good night last night?"

"Yeah, I just... Just watched a film."

"Cool. Liza out?"

"She's gone early, for breakfast."

"She'll be taking sexy selfies. Jason was so drunk last night! Didn't look at her once."

When Daisy is ready, the two of them make their way to the resort that's employing them. They're on a working holiday visa, Jane working as a waitress, Daisy helping the local turtle rescue centre. There's a good few of them working and living on the island, most of them students on gap years, most of them Americans. Jane is the only Brit. Vaas is Mexican. Apparently.

Rook offers everything anyone might want from an all inclusive luxury establishment on a tropical island. There's a gym, fitness sessions, senior fitness sessions, daily excursions, room service, quiet cocktails bars, loud tequila bars, a couple clubs, and a movie night. The only catch is that most staff are temporary, but most of the clientele are American and British so it actually kind of makes them feel secure to be served by their fellow countrymen.

Jane changes into her waitressing uniform, and starts her shift with the terrace, the one overlooking the canopy where Vaas does his senior fitness sessions. Keith and Oliver are on the beach, placing long chairs and parasols, clearing seaweed. Vincent must already be in the kitchens. No sign of Jason.

"No sign of Jason," sighs Liza, as she passes Jane with napkins ready.

"No." Jane takes a look at Liza's sad expression. "You ok?"

"Yeah." Liza rubs a slender hand over her slender neck. Such a slender girl. "Just worried about him. Think he had a bit too much last night. Again. This place isn't doing him any good."

Jane smiles sympathetically, doesn't say that maybe all it is is that Jason is a bit of a douche.

A high pitched, demented 'WHOOOOO' rings from the canopy, where Vaas is starting another senior fitness session. His morning class is so popular he now does two in a row.

Both girls look up to see him thrusting maniacally whilst urging the elderly on and shouting the occasional profanity at them.

"God, he's... loud." Says Liza, an expression of disgust and bewilderment on her pretty face.

"And it's way too early for this," Jason joins them, pulls Liza to him. "You ok, girls?"

"Morning," Jane says, just as Liza opts for the more American "hey".

Too Original by Major Lazer blasts across to them from the canopy.

"Jesus Christ." Jason shakes his head. "What a douche. Totally hate that guy. Did you guys know he was actually pole dancing, last night?"

Liza and Jane raise an eyebrow each.

"Yeah, seriously. Actually pole dancing. Right there in the middle of the club."

"Jesus," comments Liza.

"Was he any good at it?" Jane asks, making Liza chuckle.

"Just...gross."

Jane smirks at Jason's fragile masculinity, then spots their manager peering at them from inside the restaurant and quickly gets herself to work.

"Are the shrimps organic?" The lady asks.

"All our seafood is fresh and captured on the day - local fishermen go out every morning before dawn and return with all the seafood we then serve in the resort."

"But are they organic?"

"They are."

"Can you prove it?"

"Pardon?"

"I once stayed at that other resort, what was it called, John? Do you know the one on the east side? Oh I had a dippy tummy all night after those shrimps...!"

"Our shrimps are fresh and organic, I guarantee you. But we do offer other sorts of seafood if you'd prefer, there's octopus and -"

"But I want the shrimps."

Jane's eye catches Vaas looking at her from over there, near the beach. He's smoking. When he sees her looking at him looking at her, he waves, and Jane responds with a quick, tight, stiff smile before turning her full attention back to the annoying Brits.

"What sauces do you do? For the shrimps."

"We do chilli sauce, marinera, Rook special..."

"What's in the chilli sauce?"

"There's uh...chilli, and uh..."

As she looks up to the beach for inspiration, Jane catches Vaas holding his phone up, pointed in her direction. Is he taking a picture? Why would he take a picture? Is he taking a picture? Is he taking picture of her? Why?

"...sauce?" Jane finishes, before looking back at the pair of blinking Brits.

"Maybe he was taking a selfie," Daisy says, as the three girls walk on home that evening.

The sun has set, leaving the beach illuminated by golden lights coming from the resort. Here and there, music starts playing, and the younger guests come out, looking for a party.

"Yeah. It must have been a selfie." Jane nods at herself. "Who wouldn't want a selfie of that mug."

"Definitely." Liza comments absentmindedly, whilst flicking through her phone. She's got quite a large numbers of followers, and is openly looking to make a career out of it. "Oh my god, don't tell me Jason is getting another tattoo!"

"Is he?"

"He's just posted a picture of some drawing, tribal type, a shark or something, caption says 'tattoo goals'..."

Jane shakes her head, trying extremely hard not to be the judgmental, prejudiced, boring upper middle class British girl she was raised to be.

Liza sighs.

"I just wish he'd go home now, to be honest. Wish I hadn't asked him to come on this gap year."

"Grant says Jason just needs more time to mature," says Daisy. "Though I bet he could talk him out of those stupid tattoos."

"I just don't recognise him anymore... And since he's met that Citra chick..."

Citra is a local woman, and the tattoo artist behind the black lines now decorating Jason's arm. Jane once again forces herself not to sound bitter and harsh by pointing out that Jason would probably be happy to get a pair of balls tattooed on his forehead if it meant he got to get in Citra's pants.

"Oh my god," Liza suddenly exclaims, stopping dead in her tracks. "Oh my god, you guys!"

"What?"

"Oh my god."

"What? Just spit it out!" Daisy laughs.

"Jane, you need to see this."

Liza turns her phone to them, and Jane sees it. It's a picture of her, in her uniform, standing notepad in hand and looking up ahead, lost in thoughts. Thinking of how to explain what goes into making chilli sauce. Coming up with 'chilli' and 'sauce'. The caption reads: #womancrushwednesday. Then there's a heart emoji, and two flames emojis.

Vaas posted it.

Jane's cheeks heat up, all the way down to her tongue.

"Oh my god," repeats Liza, and Daisy laughs. "I would not want to be you right now!"

Vaas is older than them. Not mega old, but older. More like 30 than 20. He's probably of a similar age to Grant, Jason's older brother.

He's...strange. Bonkers, to be more exact.

He's got a massive, ugly scar across his entire skull, all the way to his eyebrow. Jason often says that maybe whatever happened there left him brain damaged, and Jane has secretly had the same thought. He's got a wide collection of Hawaiian shirts, and wears his hair in a Mohawk. He drinks beer, rum and tequila, smokes anything from cigarette to joint as well as the occasional cigar.

He's got no sense of shame, is loud, doesn't care about personal space, and, apparently, he can pole dance. He speaks English with an accent, swears a lot, and somehow manages to do this without offending the upper middle class elderly westerners who attend his fitness classes. Oh yeah, and he's ripped.

There's something about him that unsettles Jane, makes her uneasy. It goes beyond the fact that they are complete opposites, and that confident people tend to cause Jane to clam up and become sarcastic. It's more than that. She cannot quite put her finger on it, but there's something intimidating about him, beyond his loudness, some sort of unpredictability, of...savage...ness?

Jane shakes her head.

"Are you following him?" Asks Liza.

"What?"

"On there," Liza shakes her phone.

"Yeah."

"And does he ever like your pictures?"

"He doesn't follow me."

"Seriously?"

Daisy and Liza frown at her in such bewilderment, that Jane reluctantly admits: "he's requested it ages ago, but I didn't know him at all, I'd just arrived and I'd literally just got like a two word introduction to the rest of the staff, and I never accepted the request..."

"Accept it now," commands Daisy.

"What?"

"Oh my god yeah she's right, accept it now." Liza said. "If he immediately starts liking your pictures we'll know he's into you."

Daisy and Liza burst out laughing, then start chanting 'do it, do it, do it' until Jane pulls out her phone and complies.

"Won't it look like I'm interested?" She reflects, as she taps the accept request button.

"Probably," guffaws Liza.

"What if he slides in the DMs?" Cackles Daisy, and Jane can't help laughing along with the other two.

She's not someone who gets pursued. But when she does, trust her to attract the weirdest guy around.

Ping.

Oh.

Ping. Ping.

They've all stopped laughing, and stare at the phone.

He's liking pictures.

"Is he liking pictures?"

Ping.

"Which ones?"

Ping, ping, ping.

"All the ones I'm on, I think."

"Jesus."

Ping.

"What's that?"

"A message."

"A DM?!"

"What does it say?"

"Just says... 'Hello'."

Jane until she is able to retreat to the safety of her own bed, phone on silent, before looking at her messages again.

Hello.

The message is still there.

Of course it's still there.

Should she reply? Should she leave it? Does she look like a stuck up cow if she ignores it? Maybe he just wants to be friendly...

She types: 'hello'

Three dots appear on the screen, followed by another message: 'hello'

Jane raises an eyebrow at her screen.

'?'

'Hello,' Vaas types again, followed by a gif of Lionel Ritchie. 'Is it meat you looking for?'

Jane's eyes go wide as saucers, eyebrows having by now retreated into her hairline, as her mind automatically selects the raciest potential meaning of that question. But then, Vaas astonishes her one more time by sending a selfie, posing in front of a barbecue on the beach, moon in the background.

Jane can hear the music from here. Rook Resort is having its weekly beach barbecue.

Is he asking her out? Is he being friendly? How does she say no without sounding antisocial? Should she go? But she's already wiped her makeup off... No, she's not going to go. He is funny though. Good pick up line.

She sends him a gif from My Big Fat Greek Wedding and types 'I don't eat no meat'.

'DON'T EAT NO MEAT' he types back instantly. 'It's ok, I make lamb.'

He sends a picture of himself, looking exaggeratingly pleased, holding up a plastic plates with small ribs on it.

Jane lets out a quiet laugh, impressed that he knew the reference. Maybe he watches a lot of films.

Wincing at her own awkwardness, Jane types back: 'no thanks, ready for bed. Looks good though. Enjoy' and, after a second's hesitation, she adds: 'night night'. She groans at how crap that sounds.

'Sleep tight, nena.'

Her thumbs fly across the screen as she googles the meaning of that word.

Jane snorts. Baby girl?! What on earth? Ok, that definitely must mean he's interested. And sod that, she's not into weird men, no matter how good they are at pole dancing and making the elderly sweat. Not even if they know My Big Fat Greek Wedding.

He probably messages every single woman he meets. She'll have to ask Daisy and Liza.

Or maybe he just goes after insecure, short, stuck up Brits.

From now on, Jane decides, she's going to keep her distance. Best.

Once when she was in secondary school, a funny guy, the type to completely change the atmosphere of a room by walking in it, the type teachers either hated or adored, suddenly started showing a romantic interest in Jane.

Jane was a bit plump, and she did not wear make up or style her hair, and she preferred the uniform trousers to the skirt. A few kids were convinced she'd turn out gay. Gay for the PE teacher. Which was weird, because Jane was crap at PE, and the PE teacher was absolutely pulling her hair out trying to get Jane to show any hint of coordination whatsoever. Anyway, that funny boy suddenly started texting her, charming her, and Jane loved it, until one day someone told her that he was only doing all that so she'd talk him up to her hot friends.

Jane had been heartbroken.

The same thing happened again during the first year of university, when yet another cool boy started showing interest. Jane was inclined to trust it, this time, because she felt she'd cleaned up her act, wearing make up, losing a few pounds, actually trying skinny jeans... But very quickly into the flirtatious texts, the guy had started asking for her notes, because he'd been out partying all night and missed the lecture, 'you know how it is babes'.

So, needless to say, Vaas's apparent interest lands in a place of pathological mistrust. Is he after Liza and Daisy?

Jane gets to work the next day and hears Vaas calling her name from the canopy. She waves back, but quickly turns away and makes a point not to look at him again all day. He's too old for her, anyway.

"He's not that old," Liza comments on the next Saturday night, during the beach party.

"Too old, though. Older."

"He's what, 28, 29? And you're what, 20?"

"22."

"That's not too bad."

"Grant is 32," provides Daisy, "I'm 25."

"Anyway his age is probably the least of his issues," Jane reasons, then changes topic. "Grant is coming soon, isn't he? Is it on the 25th?"

"Two more weeks, yes," Daisy sighs dramatically.

"Riley is coming too," Liza says from behind her phone. "Jason's little brother."

Jason comes in with their drinks and spills two shots as he lands his tray.

"You're talking about my brothers?"

"Just saying they're coming soon," Daisy shouts, over the music. "Jane is trying to change topic."

"Oh yeah? What's the topic?"

"Vaas. He likes her."

"He's a fucking creep." Jason says immediately. "Let me know if he's bothering you, Jane."

"Here we go," Daisy rolls her eyes.

"He's a fucking weirdo!"

"That he is," Liza says, "he's always given me the creeps. Don't know why."

"It's the scar, for me," says Vincent, "I mean, how do you even get a scar like that? Can't be normal." Vincent knocks his beer back and accidentally splashes a bit on his glasses. Jane tries not to focus on that tiny little spot on there. "But, he actually does know the place well. Told him I was into snorkelling and he came up with these new, apparently untouched spots around one of the other islands, sounded great. Said he'd show me whenever I want. Said I could bring friends if I wanted."

"Maybe he's into Vincent," Jane jokes, but no one hears her, except Vincent, who laughs.

"Don't know if I trust him, though. The guy is on something." Vincent is speaking to her only, and Jane nods, using her bottle as a shield.

Her phone vibrates in her pocket and she looks to see a DM from Vaas himself. She opens it under the table.

'Hey nena'

Jane's had two beers, and she replies: 'what's up'

'How you doing?'

'Good, you?'

'You know it's movie night tomorrow'

Jane doesn't say anything. Is he going to ask her out?

'They playing...'

He doesn't add anything for a moment, then puts: 'you know what I'll give you a clue' . He types for a while, and Jane keeps glancing back down at her phone, waiting to see what he'll come up with next. 'And that as much as anything else is what led to my drinking problem.'

The smile that breaks Jane's face is wide and beaming.

'Surely you can't be serious' she replies.

'I am serious. And don't call me Shirley.'

Jane stifles a laugh, but a quick look at Daisy and the others confirms to her that they haven't noticed anything, too engrossed in their own conversation.

'Airplane' she types. 'Love it.'

'Maybe see you there then, nena'

He sends her a kissing emoji, which has Jane shaking her head and putting her phone away.

She focuses back onto everyone there, Liza on her phone, Daisy and the boys laughing.

"Seriously though, guys," Jason is saying, "we need to think of something fun to do with my brothers. Something special."

About three drinks later, someone mentions skydiving, and everyone screams yes. Including Jane, who, as soon as the alcohol will have cleared from her system, will think of an excuse not to go flipping skydiving. I mean, honestly. Skydiving. What the hell. Americans are bonkers.

Another couple drinks, and Jane is just very happy, laughing at anything, daring anything. At some point Vincent has gone to the toilet and not returned.

"Where's Vincent?" Jane slurs.

"You missing him?" Daisy slurs back, provoking a cackle from Liza.

"I just-I'm just wondering-"

"He likes you," Oliver buts in, nearly collapsing onto the small table as he returns with half a beer, the other half dripping down his top. They only see Oliver when they're out, because he doesn't work. He's on gap year from all the gap years he takes at home. His parents are rich. "Thinks you look hot, but also that you've got a good personality."

Jane shakes her hands and her face at the eruption of 'oooo' and 'heeeeeyyyyy' that welcome Oliver's revelation. One of her hands knocks Oliver's beer over. Huh. Weird.

"She likes him back," Liza says. "You must, he's totally your type!"

"My-" hiccup, "type?"

"Yeah. Studious type. Glasses type."

"Boring type," Oliver says, using the world's tiniest napkin to sponge up the rest of his beer.

"No no no no,"Jane declares. She downs her own already finished beer. "It's the ones that talk the least that - it's the quiet ones that - like, I'm quiet but I'm like -" she slurs, forgets what she was trying to say in the first place, then tries again: "I'm not into that type. I like the fun type. The confident type, the type that makes me laugh my head off. I like-I like-" her hands move around, trying to speak for her. "I like the different type."

"Like who?"

Liza's phone is up and turned towards Jane. How long has it been like that? Nevermind. Jane points at it and looks the camera in the eye.

"Like Vaas." Everyone lets out drunk, incredulous laughs. "I think Vaas is really hot." Hiccup. "I know you all think he's weird, but I totally fancy that. He's well hot." Hiccup, swallow back down whatever was about to come up. "I'd tap that. I'd let him have it. Whatever 'it' is. He can quote My Big Fat Greek Wedding. He's my bloody ." Hiccup. "God, I have to pee."

Jane tries to get off her stool for a dramatic exit combined with a trip to the toilet, but she falls, provoking even more hilarity, and the next clear memory will be waking up the next day with a banging headache, and a lot of embarassement to come.