Categories > Anime/Manga > Battle Royale > Redder Than Blood, Whiter Than Bone

Fireproof

by Will2672 0 Reviews

Are teenage girls fireproof? Well lets find out. (Not the kind of fireproof you would expect).

Category: Battle Royale - Rating: R - Genres:  - Characters:  - Warnings: [V] - Published: 2011/01/10 - Updated: 2011/01/10 - 1071 words

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A few minutes before Mr O’s announcement, the small figure of a girl was seen creeping through the bushes that lined one of the fields. Her once black suit now resembled somewhat of a dark brown in colour and almost seemed to glisten in the early morning light. Her face was morphed into a permanent expression of untainted terror.
Her shoulder length brown hair was matted and wild, despite the fact that she only left the building under 2 hours ago. Her eyes were wide with fear, accentuating the fact that something dark and red was stuck to her temple.
After witnessing the murder of Matt Halsmon at the hands of their sadistic teacher, and being the one who was sitting closest to him (thereby being covered in his blood) her emotional faculties were a complete and utter mess.
Beks Don (Female Student #4), was losing her mind.
How the hell could they be expected to kill one another? It was insane! How the hell could you kill people who you spent almost every minute of every day with? It was like killing your family. It just wasn’t right.
Stumbling slightly as the heel of her shoe sank into the mud around her feet, she let out a small shriek. Thrusting her hands out in front of her, her digits ended up plunging into the thick brown mud.
As large tears rolled down Bek’s bloodstained face, they left thin white lines through the expanse of slightly brownish red. These white streaks, however, soon disappeared due to her mascara beginning to run.
Gritting her teeth to contain the tears, she rose, albeit unsteadily, to her feet before continuing on her way. Even through squinted, tear-filled, eyes she could make out where she was heading.
The grey skyline of the village was just visible on the horizon.
She had to get there. She could find a house. Lock the doors. Bolt the windows. Yeah, sounds good. It was better than being out in the open like this.
She had gone a whole hour, after she left the school before checking the map, and in that time had somehow made it almost to the opposite side.
She had to get there. Had to hide. Hide. Hide.
FZZT “Good morning one and all! Aren’t you lucky!” Toned in a voice from a speaker on the side of the metal collar that was fixed to her neck. Collar. Like she was some kind of dog.
“You get to hear my beautiful voice so early in the morning!”
She couldn’t take it anymore. She just couldn’t stand listening to it anymore. Couldn’t stand being reminded of this psychotic fucking game. She just wanted to be deaf to all of this. Deaf to the gunshots. Deaf to the screams. Deaf to the sound….oh god, the sound. The sound of gushing blood as it sprayed her in a veil of crimson. But most of all, she wanted to be deaf to the voice of Mr O as he read off the names of the dead students. Her dead friends!
“I do hope that this isn’t the best you can do!”
No. No! It Should be the best we can do. I mean, who would actually want to kill people. Who would actually want any of this!?
Deaf. Deaf to it all. Block out the sound!
For some innate reason, she succeeded. She heard nothing. Absolutely nothing.
This, however, was probably due to the sound of the gunshot.
She felt a blow to the middle of her back. Somewhat akin to a hard kick. As the wind was knocked out of her, she fell forwards, again landing in the mud. The only difference was that, this time, her hands were not raised to impede her descent.
Collapsing, hard, on the floor her head hit a small rock. As the searing bite of torn flesh seared through her scalp, she winched. But otherwise…she was fine.
It would’ve been a lot worse if she hadn’t been wearing a bullet-proof vest underneath her shirt and blazer.

*

Striding towards the body that was no less than 6 metres in front of him, Brynn Jones (Male Student #17) pushed his long fringe out of his face and pocketed his gun (which just so happened to be a 38.Calibre Colt Anaconda). A slightly hot sensation was felt coming from the pocket of his baggy jeans, however, this soon subsided.
Flexing his fingers, he continued to move forwards as he eyed up (what he thought was) the corpse of Beks Don.
“Shit…” he thought to himself. “I shouldn’t have killed her so soon…”
As his vision trailed up the long shapely legs, encased in a pair of black tights, he struggled to get a better view up her short, black, pencil skirt. To his excessive annoyance, he was unable to get a good view.
“Oh well…there’s always the next one.” he thought.
Finally reaching the body, he bent down and went straight for her duffle bag. Picking it up by a fold of the khaki material, he shook it violently. He heard nothing that indicated a weapon. Did that mean that she had it on her? Probably.
Throwing the bag to the floor, he knelt down next to the body and began to frisk it heavily up the waist and torso. Hey, just cos’ she was dead wasn’t gunna stop him from copping a feel.
Just as he reached the sides of her chest, a sly grin plucked the corner of his mouth as he slowly reached inwards and began to-
Wait? Shouldn’t she be bleeding?
Needless to say, Brynn got more than he bargained for.
“Fuck!” he cried out as Beks instinctively swung her arm around at him and dug her long, manicured, nails into the flesh that covered his face. Dragging her nails down, she left several long gashes down his cheek which suddenly began to spill blood down his pale skin.
Rapidly thrusting his hand into his pocket, he withdrew his Colt Anaconda and pumped two bullets into the bitch’s head.
Arching backwards so far that it appeared that her spine might snap, she collapsed as the oozing mush of fragmented bone and grey brain began to spew blood into the mud that she was sitting in.
“Fucking bitch!” Brynn hissed, clasping his face with his free hand.

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