Breathe In, Move On

The Pulse of Panic

Roy didn't know whether Mister Pierson had supernatural healing habilities or if Miss Dyer didn't care enough. Either way, a weekend passed by, and the man seemed confident his condition was acceptable to return to the field. Needless to say, the magician doubted so very much. He inwardly noted to keep an eye on Pierson during the match, in case something happened.

As one of the main kiters, Roy liked to be aware of the hunter at all times. He would often be the first prey: he would kite until he got caught or, more commonly, acknowledged as a wrong main target. From then, he could vaguely presume where his enemy was. However, this time Leo Beck hadn't given away his position, not to him at least.

The cipher popped against Roy's hands and he raced to find another. He made his way out of the Arms Factory and into some ruins nearby. He presumed the place would be safe, but when he arrived, it wasn't as silent as he expected. Judging by the fast-paced steps, one of his teammates was on the chase. Not bothering other survivors while they distract the hunter was a known unwritten rule. If someone was buying time for the team, they had to make use of it. Roy understood this, so he turned back around with a spin of his shoe. Not two seconds went by, and a scream made him go stiff on the spot.

"Come back here!! I'll rip your eyes out!! Maybe that way you'll know better than to look at my daughter like that!"

After that, Pierson's well known high pitched scream reached Roy's ears. He would have brushed it off under other types of circumstances but knowing the motif of the hunter's rage was his daughter, Roy was scared of what could happen.

After such a horrific threat, he couldn't help himself. Taking as soundless of steps as possible, the magician stormed off in their direction, guided by the growls and shrieks. As he grew closer to his targets, he hid behind whatever his eyes laid on. He had a rough outline of his plan - distract Beck and give his teammate a chance to flee. If all went accordingly, the others could help heal his injuries while Roy kept their adversary busy. He was never too bothered to play bait.

"Hey, big guy!" He shouted, popping up from behind some barrels. "At least he's not giving her the cold shoulder! When was the last time you said 'hi' to your own daughter, asshole?!" Part of him wondered if he had gone too far with the provocation, but as long as it shifted the hunter's priority, he was satisfied.

The silence that followed cranked up the survivors' anxiety for what was coming next. Beck turned to face Roy and stared deep into his soul, before rewarding his behavior with an animalistic snarl.

The magician had a mere second to sign Pierson to run with an up-nod. Him, wide-eyed and burning red from the adrenaline. He looked like a scared, innocent kid screaming internally for help.

The thief followed his ally's orders and sprinted away like lightning without looking back, tripping violently along the way. Roy grinned at his accomplishment before getting chased off himself.

It was a feral hunt. Beck emanated his fury with every step. Even the mansion's current best kiter was having trouble dodging the hunter's beast-like attacks. Whenever he did manage, he had to witness the hook bash against a wall or a pallet, making Roy wonder how much trouble he'd give Dyer when his time came. Not that he cared much, but he did love having feeling in both of his legs.

Soon the opponent caught up to his moves and used all his force to send the heavy iron right to the magician's side. Roy took it and used the pain as an incentive to keep his pace up, surprising not only the enemy but also himself.

After a few more minutes of pursuit and no gate-alarm, Roy started losing hope. His mind tried to comfort him, telling him his partners were looking after Pierson and that's why they were taking so long. Still, his lower body was giving up on him, and he was sure he couldn't keep up for much longer.

The survivor fell to the ground after earning another hit, this time on the lower back, which made his body shake in agony. The hook had ripped through his large coat followed by his vest, his shirt, and finally, a small patch of skin. It wasn't too worrying. Luckily he did use quite heavy clothing for matches for exactly this reason. However, he couldn't help but lose a bit of composure when he felt blood soaking and dripping down his back.

When his eyes opened back up, Beck was already dragging his body by the foot. At least he had the decency to leave me facing the ground, Roy thought, that will be easy on my wounds.

Arriving at his special destination, he was yanked off the dirt and had his hands tied on a leach.

"If it weren't for the host's punishment," the hunter spat his words, holding Roy's face up by the chin, "I would have cut you to pieces." With a quick twist of his wrist, he shoved the man's head to the side. "Keep that in mind."

In contrast, the only thing on the magician's mind was how much longer it would take for his teammates to finish the remaining ciphers. The opposite team had failed to bring down more than half of the survivors and, at this rate, it seemed impossible to do so. The game was a granted win for them, whether with or without Roy escaping too. He exhaled happily for a work well done.

Then, finally, the sirens sounded loud and clear.

"Shit!" Beck cursed. And as if it was still worth the fight, he stepped away towards one of the exits.

All that was left for Roy to do was wait. And in the meantime, he reflected on what he had just done: He didn't make use of another survivor's pursuit time to decode, distracted the hunter away from a survivor from pity, confronted the enemy, and got threatened. All for saving the ass of a guy who started talking to him yesterday.

Aren't I smart, picking fights with someone who already wants my head on their table.

Hello, guys! Long time no see, right?

While I hate to justify myself, I have been quite unmotivated. Not just to complete this fanfiction, but to do the most mundane tasks as well.

Now, this may be the depression at work, so I've decided to embark on a self-improvement journey to help keep me motivated. It's been though, but I can assure that if it weren't for it, I don't think this work would ever be finished.

Which means that, if you're reading this, it's working and I am improving.

One last thing: Thank you, again. Your comments never fail to put a smile on my face. <3

Stay safe out there!