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

Hacker

by Will2672 0 reviews

One of the more capable students finds himself an ally. WARNING: More severe gore.

Category: Battle Royale - Rating: PG-13 - Genres:  - Warnings: [V] - Published: 2011-05-05 - Updated: 2011-05-05 - 1566 words

0Unrated
“So…” Emma said, casting her eyes towards the floor slightly. She was currently sitting on the frayed, brown material of the sofa, separated from Jordan by several mis-matched throw pillows. Her Uzi was sitting on the coffee table in front of the two of them. “Um… What…school do you go to…?”
What the hell was she doing!? Couldn’t she think of anything better to say at a time like this?!
“Heh…” Jordan chuckled as he, too, glanced towards the floor. “I…uh, don’t really go to a school. I study at a community college…”
Oh come on… he thought. This was just silly. Here they were, faced with the probability of death at any second, and all he could do was talk about college. The worst thing about this was…She was so pretty. It wouldn’t have been so bad if that hadn’t been the case. He just couldn’t stop staring at her.
“That’s nice,” she smiled. “So… when did you meet Will?”
“Five years ago,” he replied, still attempting not to look at her. “We started secondary school together, and something just clicked. We like the same music. All the same things… He’s my PIC.”
“PIC?”
“Partner in crime,” he chuckled, glancing at her for a brief second and finding himself unable to look away. Her multi-tonal blonde hair shimmered in the light in a flowing torrent of sandstone and gold, that reached just below her jawbone, highlighting her sparkling blue eyes and her dreamily pale skin.
“Hehehehe,” she chuckled in a slight girlish giggle, presenting dimples on the base of each cheek. “That’s pretty funny.”
“So is William your friend or…?” he began, his low toned voice breaking the partial silence.
“Oh yeah,” she smiled, cheerfully. “He’s nice. He’s in my History class, and we hang out at lunchtimes. He’s the kind of guy…you can talk to, y’know. He’s easy to get along with.”
“He’s always been like that,” Jordan smiled, in reply. “William’s probably the nicest guy I know…” As he said this, he couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge of jealousy towards his best friend. While he was stuck in a community college, filled with drug addicts and gypsies, with only his ‘dark as night’ gothic friend as company, Will had managed to secure a place among all these girls. This twinge however was soon dismissed. There was no way that he would just dismiss him like that.
Emma, yet again, smiled. He was nice. He was… just like Will. Sure he looked different, but there was an air of resemblance. His skin was dark, giving him the appearance of someone from south Asia (although his mother was in-fact from Trinidad) and his hair was black and fell around his face in corkscrew-like curls. For some reason, she found him quite attractive.
“Why do you do that?” she suddenly asked. “Why do you call him William?”
Jordan paused for a second. “I dunno,” he suddenly said. “It’s just what I always called him.”
Sitting there in silence for a second, they continued to stare at each other. They knew they were probably going to die in the next few days. Maybe even in the next few hours. But… for some reason, sitting talking to each other, they forgot all about it. The entire system of ‘The Program’ was based on fear and mistrust. To just chat as if nothing was wrong, as if they weren’t going to die, they just forgot all about everything.
“Hey,” Jordan suddenly said. “Wanna see something cool?”
Emma hummed, briefly, as an indication that she wanted to know what he was bragging about.
Grinning to himself, Jordan reached down and clasped the straps of his duffel bag. Lifting it off of the floor, he unzipped it and pulled out a small laptop computer.
“What the…?” Emma gasped as she laid eyes on the laptop. “Where did you get that?”
“From the last house I was in,” he replied, grinning as he opened the screen and turned it on. “Just lying around.”
“But that’s stealing,” persisted Emma, her innocent attitude playing through.
“S’not as if they’re gunna be using it anymore,” he said, typing furiously on the keyboard. Grasping the top of the screen, he span the laptop around, so that it was facing Emma. “Take a look at that.”
Displayed on the screen was a spreadsheet, filled in with numerous codes. Emma pulled a confused face.
“What am I supposed to be seeing here?” she questioned, raising one eyebrow.
“A program I made,” he grinned. “It’s always saved onto my memory stick, that’s attached to my keys, so I didn’t have to recreate it. I loaded it onto the computer.”
“What’s it do?” she asked, interest lining her voice.
“It’s a surprise,” he continued to grin. “I cant say. All I can tell you is that it involves worms. Hehehehe…”
Emma pulled a confused face, but decided against pursuing it. If she had persisted, he probably would have explained it using all the official terms and she wouldn’t have been able to understand, anyway.
Closing the laptop, and continuing to smirk to himself, Jordan placed his computer back into his duffel bag. Rising to his feet, he turned his dark brown eyes towards Emma and said: “Do you want to come with me?”
Emma didn’t respond. She was confused. Did this mean that he was going to leave? No… He couldn’t. She thought that he would stay with her.
“What?”
“Staying here is clever, but, it’s not for me,” he said. “I need to look for William. God knows, if anyone’s gunna survive, it’s him. I need to find him. I’m asking you if you want to come with me.” He broke into a warm smile, as he slung his bag over his shoulder.
“I…” Emma paused. Did she really want to go with him? Out there, into the open. Out there, where people were killing each other.
She stood up.
No. She could do this. They had a gun. They had that thing that told you where people were. And… she trusted him. She trusted Jordan to protect her. To keep her away from harm.
Jordan smiled.
She was coming with him. He had someone to protect. Someone to help him. Someone…who was so stunning. So pretty. He could…he could see himself falling for her.
Emma walked towards him. She opened her arms to her sides. She smiled warmly. Jordan opened his arms.
Clasping each other in a hug, they sighed. They were glad that in such a short amount of time, they had become friends. They were glad they had found each other. They were-
P-ping! P-ping!! P-piiiiing!!
Jordan’s device suddenly emitted a high toned sound. It indicated that someone had just moved within it’s range.
Suddenly pulling away from Emma, he blurted out: “We have to go! Someone’s here!”
Reaching down, Emma grabbed hold of her Uzi, by it’s stock and started to run towards the door, following close behind Jordan. Sprinting from the house, their feet crunched against the dry leaves that were strewn across the ground, from the tree overlooking the house. The grass was still somewhat damp, from dew and they found themselves slipping every so often.
Turning back towards Emma, Jordan laid eyes on her face. Illuminated in the grey light streaming down from the clouds, she looked so pretty. Even though they were running from someone who could potentially kill them, that was the only thought that stuck in his mind.
BLAM!!
Emma felt as if her head had just been crushed by a car. The 45. callibre bullet tore through the back of her head with the force of a truck, splintering her skull into fragments. As the bullet exited the front of her face, her left eye was torn from it’s socket and proceeded to hang down her cheeck, still connected to her eyehole, via thin pink retinal cords. Falling forwards, the back of her head burst into a fountain of crimson, just as her mashed brains began to leak down her back, staining her black business suit a shade of reddish gray.
A muffled clatter was heard as her Uzi dropped to the floor and bounced somewhat, as Emma released her grip on the stock. Continuing her descent, her face slammed into the side of the gun, just as she reached the floor.
She lay motinless. Dead. A large puddle of blood was oozing around her.
Jordan attempted to let out a cry of surprise, but no sound came out. He wanted to turn around. To see if she was okay. (Of course she wasn’t okay! She’d just had her head blown apart! Jheeze!) If he turned around, he could at least grab her gun and attempt to return fire.
However, for some unexplicable reason, he continued to sprint. To run.
He felt sick. Not at the sight of Emma, as she died. No. He felt sick, because of how much of a coward he was being. He was just running. He hadnt tried to help her. To avenge her. He had done absolutely nothing.
He was ashamed of himself.

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