Re: The Gradual Massacre (GBS2G4) [Round 1: Focal High School]
06-21-2010, 05:55 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by MalkyTop.
Algernon could barely focus on what Thane was saying to him. His head was still pounding and he was trying to think past the pain and concentrate on something more serious because he would not be someone's slave. He had to escape. There was always a way to escape, right? He had escaped these sorts of situations before, right?
But whenever he tried to think of a plan, his brain stopped, as if the pain had built up a barricade in his mind. Was there something he was carrying that could help? Or something he could create? Or--
'I'm waiting,' Thane said, gently pressing a foot in Algernon's side as if reminding him just who was causing this horrible pain.
There was no way out of it. At least not right now. "Alright!" he shouted, a little louder than he intended before repeating, in a softer, defeated tone. "Alright. I'll do it." A slight pause. "And yes, I know what a flamethrower is..."
With all the satisfaction and smugness a demonic entity could muster, Thane finally let him stand up again. 'Good.' Algernon grimaced at the floor as he pocketed his gun. His new 'partner' continued. 'The Ouroborous is near. There are also two others, but I'm sure they won't matter. Make a flamethrower.'
"What, now?"
'Yes,' Thane replied, clearly impatient. 'What other time would I want it?'
"Well, but, my memories will get eaten as long as it's--"
'You make memories continuously, it's not as though you will ever run out. Flamethrower. Now.'
Algernon winced again and held in a sigh. He didn't even know what flamethrowers looked like. But it didn't seem as though he could use it as an excuse. (And it didn't actually seem to matter in any case.) So reluctantly, he held out his hands and concentrated and eventually, a flamethrower misted into view. He almost fell forward under the weight of the pack of some sort of alcohol which was connected to a long tube that seemed to end in a sort of rifle-ish shape. Thane grabbed it immediately as Algernon leaned against a wall, watching blankly as the barely-human form tested it out. As Algernon felt childhood and recent memories alike vanish, he couldn't help but feel annoyance for when he would have to condemn the flamethrower and the dispersed alcohol (or whatever it turns into) to non-existence again.
Thane shouldered the pack at last. 'Good. Let's go.'
Algernon could barely focus on what Thane was saying to him. His head was still pounding and he was trying to think past the pain and concentrate on something more serious because he would not be someone's slave. He had to escape. There was always a way to escape, right? He had escaped these sorts of situations before, right?
But whenever he tried to think of a plan, his brain stopped, as if the pain had built up a barricade in his mind. Was there something he was carrying that could help? Or something he could create? Or--
'I'm waiting,' Thane said, gently pressing a foot in Algernon's side as if reminding him just who was causing this horrible pain.
There was no way out of it. At least not right now. "Alright!" he shouted, a little louder than he intended before repeating, in a softer, defeated tone. "Alright. I'll do it." A slight pause. "And yes, I know what a flamethrower is..."
With all the satisfaction and smugness a demonic entity could muster, Thane finally let him stand up again. 'Good.' Algernon grimaced at the floor as he pocketed his gun. His new 'partner' continued. 'The Ouroborous is near. There are also two others, but I'm sure they won't matter. Make a flamethrower.'
"What, now?"
'Yes,' Thane replied, clearly impatient. 'What other time would I want it?'
"Well, but, my memories will get eaten as long as it's--"
'You make memories continuously, it's not as though you will ever run out. Flamethrower. Now.'
Algernon winced again and held in a sigh. He didn't even know what flamethrowers looked like. But it didn't seem as though he could use it as an excuse. (And it didn't actually seem to matter in any case.) So reluctantly, he held out his hands and concentrated and eventually, a flamethrower misted into view. He almost fell forward under the weight of the pack of some sort of alcohol which was connected to a long tube that seemed to end in a sort of rifle-ish shape. Thane grabbed it immediately as Algernon leaned against a wall, watching blankly as the barely-human form tested it out. As Algernon felt childhood and recent memories alike vanish, he couldn't help but feel annoyance for when he would have to condemn the flamethrower and the dispersed alcohol (or whatever it turns into) to non-existence again.
Thane shouldered the pack at last. 'Good. Let's go.'