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Lianne Otter (Female Student #12) was sitting, crouched, somewhat inside a large shrub when she heard the shots. Five of them. She had no way of knowing that it was these five shots which had resulted in the deaths of Luke Bryant, Jeremy Meek, and Jonah Goffe, and to be honest, she didn’t want to know.
She just wanted to be out of this psychotic fucking program.
She wanted to be at home, belting out the lyrics to a Jon Bon Jovi song as she sat in her room, with the stereo turned up full blast.
She wanted to be hanging out with her friends, laughing the way that she always did.
She wanted…God, she even wanted to be (dare I say it) revising for a chemistry test.
Anything. She wanted anything over this madness. This overwhelming fear that assaulted her body as she sat there, trembling.
What the fuck was she going to do!?
Nothing. Nothing came into her head that served as a relevant course of action. Absolutely fuck all.
Burying her face in her knees, which were currently hugged up to her chest, she began to sob as strands of her chocolate brown hair (sporting several faint tints of her natural colour of bright orange) fell around her dreamily pale, and cutely freckled skin.
This may sound strange, but if anyone who knew her were to see this, it would be an increasingly odd sight. This was, predominantly, down to the fact that she was such a happy person. Only those ever truly close to her had ever seen her cry. It was a privilege reserved for only her best of friends (and not a very good one at that). Tears didn’t suit her. She suited happiness. She suited her trademark, toothy smile. She suited, her happy, almost hyperactive, attitude.
She didn’t suit this. She didn’t deserve this.
Pulling her knees higher, her tight black pencil skirt slipped down her thighs and bunched around her waist, showing off her well formed legs, clasped by a pair of shiny black tights.
“I just want to go home…” her high toned voice whispered, from her obscured mouth.
It was then that she heard it… Rustling. Like feet being dragged through leaves.
The sound was coming from behind her. Deep within the confines of this outcrop of trees. And it was growing louder. More sporadic.
Pursing her lips together, she swallowed hard, in an attempt to quell the lump that was rising up her throat. Should she…go and check it out?
What if they were dangerous?
What if whoever it was, was playing!?
She heard a loud, harsh shout followed by an even louder cry of rage.
But, what if they were in trouble?! She just couldn’t let someone die!

*

Brynn Jones (Male Student #17, and transfer student) was currently moving through an outcrop of trees, somewhere in the region of zone E3 (that is, assuming that he was reading his map correctly).
His face still hurt. The burning, searing, pain that was emanating from his cheek had been almost overpowering him for the past hour.
He didn’t care about his…cough… ulterior motives anymore! He would shoot anyone he encountered on sight! And, now that he had his ‘new toy’ there was no way that he could lose in a direct confrontation with anyone.
Suddenly, she spotted something out of the corner of his eye. It appeared to be a large bushy mass of curly hair.

*

Moving slowly through the trees, Lianne nervously clasped the strap of the duffle bag, slung over her shoulder.
Why was she doing this? She could be killed! But…she couldn’t just let someone get hurt. What if all this noise was someone in trouble.
The sounds of rustling leaves and cracking twigs grew ever louder as she moved deeper into the trees, as did the ever persisting grunts and shouts. Could these be the sounds created by two people fighting?
She could feel her heart throbbing inside her chest. Each individual contraction of the chambers identified itself into a single heartbeat. Atrium, atrium, ventricle, ventricle… (Oh jesus, how come she could remember biology NOW, but not in exams!)
Her breathing became heavier as her footsteps crunched through the earth. Her chocolate brown hair stuck to her pale skin, gripped to the freckled surface by a chilling sweat.
Maybe she should just turn back? What if whoever it was decided to… kill her!
Slowly lifting her feet, she began to slowly turn around.
Then it happened…
Two large figures crashed through a bus that had once occupied Lianne’s left side. Leaves and splinters of wood flew into the air as the two boys, one clad in a suit, the other in jeans and a t-shirt, ripped through the shrubbery.
Leaping backwards, Lianne attempted to cry out, before witnessing a truly horrible sight.
The figure in the suit (which just so happened to be male student #11, Will Pryer) jumped backwards, raising his right hand into the light. Clasped in his fist was a large knife. It somewhat reminded her of the scene from Crocodile Dundee. “Ya’ call that a knife…THIS is a knife!”
Lashing out forwards in a quick, almost fluid motion, Will Struck his opponent across the face with the blade.
This couldn’t be happening! She knew Will! He’d never do something like this. He was always just that guy who occasionally asked her if she was okay; who she sometimes talked to at parties; who she sometimes had a laugh with. He always seemed so nice! How could he do something like this!
Digging the shimmering, almost liquid, edge if the knife into the boy’s face, Will continued to push his arm forwards, until a sharp cracking sound was heard. Blood sprayed into the air in a manner much like that of a sprinkler system, soaking the sleeve of Will’s blazer in a deep coat of crimson, as the bone splintered around the glistening metal, chipping out a small piece of the steel, which soon became lodged in the torn mass of lacerated skin and cheek muscle. Stumbling backwards, the victim collapsed and fell onto his back. Now exposed, his face was the subject of pure untainted gore. His left eye (or what was left of it) had been split by the knife, resulting in a mixture of retinal fluid and blood leaking down his cheek and mingling into the blood that was being spewed forth from around the blade. His mouth, which had been lodged open by the base of the metal, bore a mixture of bloody torn gums and shattered teeth. It was disgusting.
Horror filled her body as Lianne looked down at the lifeless corpse. She wanted to scream. She wanted to run. She wanted to-
“Lianne?” echoed the gruff voice of Will, as he finally noticed her standing there.
Oh no!! she thought. He’s going to kill me! Kill me like him! I have to run!
Without a second thought, she turned tail and ran. No…More sprinted. She had never moved so fast in her life.
Stumbling through the undergrowth, she tried to let out a screech, but no sound escaped her trembling lips.
No. That didn’t matter. She just wanted to get away. Get away from this…this psychopath who she thought she knew! Get away from the disfigured face that was split at a somewhat odd angle down the middle, like a peanut! ( “Ladies and gentlemen, the amazing peanut man!” ) Get away. Get away! Get away!!

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