The water went onto the shore clear as day, but when it flowed back into the ocean, it was deep red. PikaBlue's body lie there, with my scissors in his throat. Too bad it was at the bottom of a cliff. It'd take way too long, and way too much energy to retrieve it. It's fine I suppose. His hatchet was at my feet. Then again, a lot of good it did him. Pika's last words came into my mind, and I kinda felt like laughing. Immediately followed by grief. I felt as though I were turning into a monster.
"Jake, you slimy son of a bitch. You think you're fucking tough, because you surprised me? Well come at me, motherfucker!"
I hid in the bushes until he walked by, then I leaped, and swung at his back, scissors open, exposing the sharp side. Then we rolled around for a bit before we were standing on a cliff. Neither of us wanted to roll anymore. That was when he made his little statement. So he wound up his hatchet, and I stabbed him in the throat. The hatchet dropped, and he did, too. Directly off said cliff.
I heard rustling behind me, and realized that I was wasting time. I nabbed my new hatchet, and started looking for a place to hide. Bullets sounded off far away. It was time to get to work.
About an hour or two passed, maybe more. Having no watch other than what I can only assume is an explosive, I had no sense of time, other than the position of the sun in the sky. And the sun hadn't moved much. Nothing happened. Then I saw deadwaste. He was walking around, looking lost. He had an extremely dumb looking smile on his face. Had he taken more of those pain pills he talked about oh so much? Probably.
Regardless, I started to sneak. I stayed low to the ground, and hefted the hatchet, getting a feel for the weight. He stopped, and laughed. I took the opportunity to jump him. He seemed ready, though. Ready enough to immediately kick me off. Then a sickle was produced from his messenger bag, and he started running after me.
"FUCK THIS!" I booked. No way in hell was I going after a pissed off druggie with a fucking sickle. I grabbed a branch and tried to pull myself onto a tree, hoping it'd be easier to hold him off from there, but no. I was not destined to make it onto that branch. I felt a cold blade go into my back and dig in. It came out of my chest, and I fell off the tree. When I hit the floor, not only did my right lung hurt like a motherfucker, I was also winded. Deadwaste took the opportunity to stab me in the chest a second time. Then a third. That's about when I lost consciousness. My body was stabbed again. And again. And again. Eventually, my arm came off, and that was when deadwaste walked away. He seemed satisfied with himself.
I was going to originally have this chapter be completely different. Potato had the scissors, and started on the beach, but other than that, it was crazily different. Still brutal, still causing death, but different.
bubbafightsunlimited: anyway long story short what happened the past 6 months: got dumped (sort of), had a very stressful first half of my second semester of senior year HS, then got accepted to harvard (yay)
Jul 9, 2020 1:35:17 GMT
bubbafightsunlimited: my life is pretty much unrecognizable from last year so
Jul 9, 2020 1:35:48 GMT