If they can't catch him, they can't kill him.
.oOo.
Norman Bennet, 14
British Male
1 Kill
He's found a quiet sort of content in the labyrinth, a feeling that he's going to be alright in the end of all of this. He doesn't know if that means he'll get out of here alive or if it means he'll end up dying to someone bigger, someone stronger, but he's found something that he hasn't had before.
Perhaps it's his independence.
But he does feel different in here as he walks through between the two stone walls that define every corridor of the labyrinth, not having talked to a soul in ages. It occurs to him that he's being broadcast in some shape or form to the world, and he cracks up in amusement. "Hey, Mother and Father! I'm still here! Carroll, your big brother's still in this competition!"
And then he quiets back down, remembering that there's still quite a few tributes left to wander through the maze. He had heard the gunshots, but he can't remember the number at this point - it's somewhere around ten at the most. Strange, only nine or ten other people that need to die for him to finally get out of these walls.
He might not make it.
But then again, he might.
At times like this, he's glad to have the long, sharp knife made of steel in his hand still.
Norman keeps moving forward. It's occurred to him that he'd likely be as safe if he hunkered down in one spot and waited for people to come to him, but he doesn't like the idea. He doesn't want to be a sitting duck, waiting for someone to try to kill him.
If they can't catch him, they can't kill him. He'd rather keeping walking through this maze and looking to see if there's anything hidden in these walls.
And so he does, holding onto the red pack that's gotten him this far. He alternates between left and right, walking whichever way seems to be easier. When he comes to a dead-end, he turns back around and takes the first turn out of there. Every so often, he marks a place he's been with a circle of stones right between a curve, but he leaves no trace of himself beyond that. It's to make sure that he isn't utterly lost, and the fact that he's already found several of the circles that he's made hours before proves that they'll be useful in searching the arena.
And suddenly, he stops in his tracks - there's three competitors ahead of him, all walking forwards. One has his hands tied behind his back with what looks to be thin and tough rope, and the other two are walking behind him, discussing something under their breath as they keep walking to wherever their destination is.
Norman tries not to even breathe, just standing still until they've gone and he feels safe enough to take off in a sprint, away from the competitors. It wouldn't be the worst to come across someone right now - he can kill, he's done it before - but three? Three is too many for him, especially when they all look years older than himself.
No, he's going to have to play the waiting game and hope. He has to hope that he'll be the one doing the finding, instead of the other way around.
He has to.
.oOo.
She loves him - maybe a bit too much - but he's just so frustrating at times.
.oOo.
Milena Kovac, 17
Slavic Female
0 Kills
"We shouldn't go that way!" Luka protests, pointing down the long turn that leads to places unknown. "I'm certain that we've came here before. Are you sure that this boy isn't leading us in the wrong direction? Neither of us know what his intentions are, and we can't trust him just because we want him to be good. We have to decide, now, if we're going to continue listening to him or if we'll just leave him behind. You can't afford to be sentimental now, Milena."
"Weren't you the one who was practically dry-heaving at the thought of killing someone yesterday?" Milena retorts, annoyed with Luka. "I like the kid - maybe if you spoke German, you would too. And I'm not going to let you gut him because you're worried that he'll waste our time. Isn't that the point of all of this? I'd rather be led in circles than directly to the other killers in here."
"Oh, you - you -" Luka seems to be at a loss for words, his face turning red. "Well, I'm not letting him lead us on a wild goose chase anymore. You can walk with him if you want, but I'm going to find the clearing for us all. And then we can get rid of the boy when we do - don't worry your pretty little heart out about it. You know full well as I do that we have to bury our feelings if we're going to survive. I was reminded of that yesterday."
He turns on his heel and marches forward, his face still the shade of a tomato left out too long in the sun. Milena rolls her eyes and walks with the boy - Karol, the one from Poland. "I'm sorry about all of that, we're friends but we argue too much."
"That man seems like he's very angry about something he doesn't seem to understand," comments Karol. "Did he try to hurt you? It looked like that he was about to strike you - I was ready to push myself in between you two in case it came to blows."
"Oh, bless your heart," says Milena, flattered by the boy's statement. "You don't have to protect me - I can do that just fine. And I don't think that Luka would hurt me - he's full of bluster, but he wouldn't harm a fly. I'm sure of it."
"Didn't he kill someone? You said something about that this afternoon, when we were walking to find the clearing." Karol looks confused, and Milena nods.
"Yeah, but it was to stop the kid from hurting me. Well, the boy wasn't trying to hurt me, just trying to take our packs. But nonetheless, he did it to protect me." Milena's a little less confident in that statement now, but she keeps the facade up. Luka's a good guy, he can just lose his temper every so often.
Still, it hurts that he keeps trying to push her around like she's his servant or something.
Right on cue, Luka comes marching back with a frown on his face. "We're going in the wrong direction again. We'll have to find somewhere to camp out for the night, because there's no way we'll find it in the dark. We'll go to bed now, then."
"Shouldn't we find somewhere a little more comfortable?" Milena asks, finding herself annoyed with the man again. She loves him - maybe a bit too much - but he's just so frustrating at times. "I'd like to not sleep on rocks tonight. Again."
"Fine." Luka underlines the word with a look of pure anger that fades back into annoyance, and Milena feels a shiver go down his spine.
Luka's a good guy, he really is, but she'll have to think twice about sticking with him the entire competition.
Better her than him.
.oOo.
He knows he can win this.
.oOo.
Bosede Okafor, 16
Afrikkaan Male
7 Kills
Back and forth he's gone through the maze, always searching for someone else to target. After the initial fighting at the beginning of the competition - what a glorious moment! - he's only had one kill. It was that boy, with the friend who had ran away like a coward as soon as he had spotted him. But that was a harsh fight, something worthy of his attention.
But he's being pretentious at this point. He's a soldier, but he's not a fool. Bosede knows that there are hardened competitors out there, ones who could cut him down if he isn't careful. He has to be quick and strong, taking the upper hand before any opponents grab it from him. He knows he can win this. He knows that he can get back home by his sheer force of will and ability to cut everyone else down with the huge sword that rests in his hand.
He just has to be careful.
And so he is, walking as quietly as he can as he walks through the maze. Granted, he can't move very quietly, but it's enough for him to hear whatever's happening around him. For an hour or so, he still hears nothing and is prepared to give up hunting for the night.
But then he hears talking.
Quickly, he whips around and looks in the direction from which the conversation is coming from, noting that the voices are feminine. So there's two girls, both unaware that he's a few walls away from finding them.
And in a minute, he's found the way to where they're holed up.
Bosede walks into the section that they're camping in, almost a miniature clearing in itself that's practically hidden from view. If he wasn't paying attention, he would have walked right by the place. But he heard the girls, and there they are. One's tall and pretty, with a fair complexion and hair tucked underneath some sort of bonnet. The other is just a little girl with dingy-brown hair, coated with the dust that has covered everyone left in the maze. She lets out a scream when she sees the sword in his hand, and the older girl turns to the little one. "Stay out of the way, Juliet. I can handle this for us. You're not going to die."
"So you're the American?" Bosede asks as he takes a step closer to the two. "I'm glad I found someone else who speaks English. The little one sounds like she's British, but I know that she's not the one from Britain. I killed that one myself."
The little girl whimpers.
The older one puts herself between Bosede and the girl, staring into his eyes. "You can kill me, but let Juliet have a chance. She's just a child, just a little girl. You can't do that."
"I've done it before, I'll do it again." Bosede takes a swipe at the American with his sword, but she leaps away and grabs a sword of her own. "So you have one as well? You know how to use it?"
"I know how to defend myself - and others," she mutters. She parries off his next attack, standing in a defensive pose. "You're not going to kill Juliet."
"We'll see," he laughs as he lands a strike that glances off the side of her arm and leaves a strip of flesh that hangs off of her arm, dripping with blood. "We'll see."
.oOo.
But this isn't the old farm pond. This is a fight to protect a child.
And she's going to keep Juliet alive.
.oOo.
Abigail Kuepfer, 17
Canadian Female
1 Kill
It had all started out fine enough.
She had been chatting with Juliet about their families and dreams, about how Juliet loved reading and wished that she could return to Britain, and Abigail reminiscing about the farm that she missed so. They had been enjoying themselves, just sitting in the room without a ceiling and pretending that they weren't supposed to fight each other to the death.
It was good that she had someone else to talk to. It keeps her sane.
But then they had heard the footsteps, coming closer and closer towards them. Juliet had leapt up and backed away to the edge of the room, holding a long knife that she had secreted among the folds of her shirt, and Abigail eyed the sword that she had kept close to her after first coming to the hiding place.
She wouldn't kill anyone with it. She couldn't do that, not after last time. But she'd use it to defend Juliet to her last breath.
And then the boy from Afrikka had rounded the corner, and Abigail's heart had sunk quicker than the huge boulders that her brothers liked to heave into the farm pond and swim back up from the murky deep, just to see if they could do it.
But this isn't the old farm pond. This is a fight to protect a child.
And she's going to keep Juliet alive.
"So you're the American?" the boy asks, brandishing his long, sharp sword. It looks far too big to carry, yet he's brawny enough to handle it with ease. He's like a butcher, complete with the big knife to gut whatever helpless animal finds itself on the chopping block. "I'm glad I found someone else who speaks English. The little one sounds like she's British, but I know that she's not the one from Britain. I killed that one myself."
Juliet whimpers in the corner, and Abigail resists the urge to burst into tears at the hopelessness of it all.
"You can kill me," Abigail manages to say to the boy. Yes, that's the tone she needs to continue - calm, cool, and collected. Maybe if she tricks the boy into thinking that she's a threat, he'll leave them alone. Maybe. "But let Juliet have a chance. She's just a child, just a little girl. You can't do that."
"I've done it before, I'll do it again." The boy suddenly lunges at Abigail, and she just barely manages to avoid the steel blade from slipping between her ribs. Abigail grabs the sword that she's left on the ground, balancing it in her hands, and the boy lets out a long, low whistle. "So you have one as well? You know how to use it?"
Juliet holds out her knife as well, ready in case the boy changes his mind and comes after her, and Abigail clenches her teeth as the boy attack yet again. Sparks fly when the two swords clash, yet she's able to remain in place and ready to defend herself. "I know how to defend others. You're not going to kill Juliet."
"We'll see," the boy laughs before landing a particularly vicious strike on her arm. The flesh is nearly sliced off in a long strip, and it burns like the fires of Hell. "We'll see."
Abigail tries to knock the sword out of his hands, but her own sword glances off of the sword and into his shoulder. With a cry of pain, the boy wrenches away and clutches at his arm. "Ow - you won't get away with that."
"Run, Juliet!" Abigail screams at her friend, motioning her to run out of the room. "You need to go!"
And so the girl does, dodging past the boy and out to freedom. Abigail breathes a sigh of relief, turning back to face the boy.
If nothing else, she's saved a life.
Maybe it'll make up for the one that she ended.
.oOo.
If she runs, she'll be the coward she hoped that she wasn't.
.oOo.
Juliet Acres, 13
Russian Female
0 Kills
"I'm glad I found someone else who speaks English. The little one sounds like she's British, but I know that she's not the one from Britain. I killed that one myself." The tall, monstrously huge boy laughs, and Juliet lets out a whimper of dismay. She doesn't know what to do now, stuck between Abigail's defensive stance and the large boy who blocks the exit. There's no way out of this.
"You can kill me, but let Juliet have a chance. She's just a child, just a little girl. You can't do that," Abigail replies to the tall African. Juliet looks strangely at Abigail - she didn't think of herself as small and helpless, but maybe Abigail was playing the innocence card to keep Juliet safe.
Personally, Juliet doesn't think it'll work.
"I've done it before, I'll do it again." The boy tries to stab Abigail, but Juliet lets out a scream of relief when Abigail dodges and grabs the sword that's her own. It's almost half the size of the huge sword that the boy has, but it's still strong and trustworthy. Hopefully, it will do the job.
Unless Abigail decides she doesn't want to kill him, of course. Juliet still doesn't know what Abigail's decision is about that.
"So you have one as well?" the boy asks Abigail, referring to the sword in her hand. Juliet clenches the knife that she has in her own hand, and resolves that if he comes after her she'll leave it in his ribcage. "You know how to use it?"
"I know how to defend others. You're not going to kill Juliet." Despite her bravado, Abigail seems nervous, and the boy takes advantage of that. Juliet tries to scream at Abigail to look out, but just in time she remembers that yelling at Abigail won't help her win. If anything, it would make her lose if she got distracted at the wrong moment. Yes, Juliet needs to shut up and watch for now.
"We'll see," the boy says with a chillingly cold laugh, and Juliet's blood turns to ice. "We'll see."
Then he attacks Abigail, and Juliet winces in sympathy at her friend's injured arm.
Then, praise be, Abigail launches an attack of her own. It clashes against the boy's sword and slips off of his weapon, falling into the boy's shoulder. Juliet gives a grin and takes a step forward to help Abigail finish him off, when the boy pushes the sword out of his shoulder and lets Abigail stumble back. "Ow! You won't… get away with that."
"Run, Juliet!" Abigail screams at Juliet, and Juliet's pathetic, traitorous legs carry her out of the room and away from the fight. She runs and runs, putting as much distance between herself and the order that Abigail's given her.
Then she stops.
What if Abigail will lose? What if the boy recovers, and comes after her anyway? If so, she's as good as dead at this point - she'll be helpless.
Abigail's done so much for Juliet in these past few days, from providing for her to killing the Iberian to save Juliet's life. Juliet owes everything to her.
If she runs, she'll be the coward she hoped that she wasn't.
Step by step, she retraces her path back to the room and bursts in. The boy is hacking away at Abigail now, not paying attention to anything but tearing Juliet's friend apart. Her skin is flayed with sword wounds, and she throws a desperate glance at Juliet before screaming aloud in pain. Get out, get away from here, she whispers with her eyes.
Juliet's blood still is cold, but now it feels like someone's hooked her up to a kettle of boiling water. Here she is, standing numbly in front of a murderer. She's always told herself that she would do something if she encountered real injustice, but no, she's a wimp. She's nothing but a useless, stupid, pathetic little girl.
As if in a dream, she watches her body fly through the air and pierce her long, sharp knife into the boy's neck. Her momentum's just barely enough to knock him from his crouched position. As he feels for the blade that's now in the back of his neck, the boy gasps. As he lets go of his sword and tries to grab Juliet's knife, he's coughing up red, sticky blood that fills his mouth and spills onto the ground. But she's too quick, too fast, too frantic to stop stabbing it into his legs, where those big veins - arteries? she doesn't know - are to make him die even faster. Once, twice, thrice, too many times to count she stabs the knife into his flesh and pulls it out again.
After a while, he stops fighting back
When he's finally still, she cradles Abigail's corpse and wails long after the gunshots have faded and the stars appear in the sky.
Yes, it's only getting faster now :P
8th: Abigail Kuepfer, Canadian Female; Killed by Bosede Okafor. Created by MysticalPineForest.
Abigail was such, such, such a good person and I just adored her arc and she was just the best to write. She was very sweet and pure, yet she had a darker side that she used to get herself out of trouble - and into moral dilemmas. In the end, she had decided that she wouldn't kill any more simply because it was too hard on her, but she was too devoted to Juliet to let her go - something that cost Abigail her life, but allowed Juliet to survive. Abigail was always going far - I was considering making her get all the way to the top five at one point - but after she entered this arc I felt that it was best to leave it this way. Thank you Pine for this great competitor.
7th: Bosede Okafor, Afrikkaan Male; Killed by Juliet Acres. Created by CragmiteBlaster.
Ding, dong, the witch is dead! But yeah, Bosede was an absolute beast throughout this competition and I'm very happy that I had someone like him to let so much conflict happen in the competition. Bosede was always an aggressive guy, coincidentally with military training, and he had no qualms about fighting and killing kids. He was ready for this, more than anyone else: which is the reason why he had such an insane amount of kills. But he was never meant to be the victor - I actually planned on him dying in the bloodbath before thinking better of it, simply because at that point he was too strong to die. After seven-odd fights, however? He was weak enough and bruised enough to let Abigail fend for herself, just before Juliet launched her attack. Thanks to CragmiteBlaster for this guy, because he was key to a very tense competition.
And that's the final six! And we're getting closer to the end - just a few more chapters before we reach the finale! Are you ready? I am!
Sorry if this feels a bit late, I was gone all day at a dentist appointment. Bleh.
Anyways, excitement! We're at only six left, everything is going insane, and it's only going downhill from here! I'll see you tomorrow with another chapter, so GET READY!
Enjoy. Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ