Holding his breath, he gazed down the scope, his aim trained on a broken window across the desolate street. He, himself, was crouched atop a crumbling hospital’s roof, armed with a sniper rifle. Wind ruffled his dark brown curls, and the fog that hung over the run-down city made him look pale, demented even. That’s what this game has turned him into, practically a walking, edgy corpse. He never intended for it to come this far, but it was too much for him to control anymore. They had went crazy when Kristen and Michelle were shot down for trying to get out. They disappeared into the fog, and then...the gunshots rang clearly in the Italian’s mind, causing him to lose his concentration. They chilled him to the bone, along with the agonising screams of the two fallen victims of the fog. He shuddered, taking a deep breath. The thought shook him, that this game would only end when one of them was left. Innocentor Terrorist.
His card was tucked into his jean’s pocket, Innocent. The green text had been comforting, yet terrifying. He didn’t know who else was innocent, nor whether or not if anyone else was alive. All he knew is that everyone got a card, and one of them had gotten the terrorist card. If this cruel reality followed what rules there were in the game, there was also a detective. Good use that would be. The Italian only knew that Max, Adam, Gunner, DLive, Mark, Evan, Scott, Jack, Jonathan, and maybe even John were alive. Probably. He hadn’t seen their corpses yet, so he could only assume they were wandering around somewhere.
He knew who was dead, considering the… the bodies and the cold-blooded murder that had taken place at ground level. He wasn’t sure what had gotten into them, but before anyone could react, Craig had one-shotted Lui, and then was executed by Daithi. Everyone was in a frenzied panic by then, screaming and running for cover as suddenly Ohm and Nick had started shooting each other because of… God knows what. Before long, they had disappeared, and Adam reported over the lines that he had found their bodies. Felix had just given up after Ryan had gotten killed in a misfire from Ken. He just…… quit. It honestly sounded like a good idea now, but it was too late now. Wade had disappeared into the fog as well, followed soon after by Bob, leaving Mark and Aaron a wreck in this hellhole.
Aaron had disappeared, and a very tearful Mark had clarified that he had found the Brit’s corpse 20 minutes later. The rest of them supposed that Aaron had been the detective, since there was no card on him when Mark found him. Lui, Craig, Ohm, Nick, Felix, and Ryan’s bodies all had their card stuffed into their jean pockets; Innocent, leaving everyone knowing that the terrorist was still out there. Gunner and DLive were together,as they had clarified over the lines, so were Evan and Jonathan, Mark and Jack. Adam hasn’t been online at all, and it was definitely worrying. And Max…
Well, Max was within firing range. The Italian was keeping Max in his sights; the Mexican had been acting more than a bit suspicious. With a pang, he realised that he might have to kill. The Italian had avoided killing, and had only slightly injured Mark as a warning. But he hadn’t actually killed someone. Max, his best friend, nonetheless. He’d already lost Steven, Galm, and wasn’t about to lose another friend.
But...the round would end...if Max was the terrorist….right?
But what if he wasn’t?
What if he killed Max in cold-blood?
For no reason?
The Italian shuddered, and sat back on his heels, arms resting on his thighs as he crouched down on the crumbling roof. He rubbed his chin, fingers moving up to the tangled dark brown curls,absentmindedly pulling at one. His palm brushed against the cold metal of the earpiece that was nestled into his ear, making sure to allow him the ability to hear and speak to all the others. The line was silent at the moment, with only a faint whimpering and crying that belonged to Gunner and what sounded like Mark.
The Italian sighed, and reached for his gun again, steeling himself to shoot upon a glimpse of Max. His heart panged again with fury--directed at himself. His finger was trained at the trigger, ready to react in a heartbeat.
A few seconds passed.
Then minutes, before--
Click.
Startled, the Italian froze, feeling the cold metal press up against the back of his head. He could feel the barrel of a pistol prodding the back of his skull, burrowing past the tightly curled locks. He rose into a standing position, slowly raising his hands above his head, clasping them behind his head as the feeling of cold steel disappeared.
“Who?”
He whispered to the air behind him, and was surprised to get no response. Blinking, he took the risk, and turned. He was instantly met by arms wrapping around him, hugging the Italian tight. Gasping in shock, he managed to wheeze as the air was crushed from his lungs,
“A-Adam?”
The arms released him, giving him a chance to regain his breath, and study his attacker. Shorter than some males the Italian knew, Adam had short brown hair and dark, sly brown eyes that would reveal when he was plotting something. He had slight stubble, and an earpiece of his own found its home in his left ear. The man wore a casual dark grey shirt and light jeans that had worryingly fresh bloodstains near the bottoms. His vans were slightly bloodstained as well, although the Italian supposed it was just because the bloodied ground below.
“Hello Anthony.”
Adam said, smirking grimly at the other male, who sighed, smiling,
“Hey. How bad has it gotten down there?”
“Pretty bad”
Adam’s smirk turned to a frown, and he dropped down next to Anthony’s previous spot, the Italian plopping down next to him as he continued,
“It’s hell down there Anthony. Mark is with Jack, and they’re camping out in an apartment room. Said they’ll shoot anyone who enters. I managed to stay away from them though. Scott said he was camping out in some building’s basement. He was vague, careful.”
“As expected.”
It was good to know Scott was alive, it was probably the thought of his family that kept him going, more than any of us.
“And I think DLive and Gunner are hiding out near the fog, threatening to walk out into it whenever anyone comes near.”
Adam shook his head, frown growing,
“I haven’t seen Evan or Jonathan though, but John and Daithi are fine. They’ve started going around with medical supplies trying to heal whoever will let them.”
“That’s good, right?”
“Yeah”
Adam gave Anthony a wistful look,
“I haven’t seen Max though….You?”
“Yes, and he was acting suspiciously…. hanging around the corpses, rifling through their pockets and taking ammo.”
“Is he whom you were aiming at?”
Adam raised an accusing eyebrow, using a tone he would use in a game of Hide and Seek when someone was cheating. Or rather, someone would use when he was cheating.
“Yes, he was.”
The Italian admitted, dropping his gaze, guilt starting to gnaw away at his insides. But Adam only nodded,
“He was acting suspiciously last time I saw him. It’s…..It’s a safe decision.”
The American’s voice was filled to the brim with venom, as if he hated to say those words, and he probably did.
“I wasn’t too sure but…”
“We don’t want to take chances.”
Adam finished Anthony’s sentence, sighing.
“Right.”
“Well….”
Adam swallowed, eyes flashing in fear,
“I’ll leave you to...finish up..”
Anthony thought it looked as though Adam had something else to say, but the other male only nodded, remaining in place. Anthony frowned slightly and stood, stretching. He eyed the window for a bit, watching for any movement. He had to bite back a grin as he saw something pass the window, disappear, pass the window, disappear. Pacing. It would be an easy shot, disgusting to say.
The Italian dropped to his heels, then grabbed his gun, positioning it so the throw back wouldn’t injure him. Gazing through the scope once more, Anthony’s finger found the sniper rifle’s trigger as the figure passed the window again. Taking a deep breath, he steadied the shot. Waited for the right moment, then…
Shadow appears.
Stops by the window.
Perfect timing.
BANG!
Shatter.
Shout of pain.
Thud.
Dead.
Anthony sighed as he saw the figure fall, the bullet piercing Max’s skull. Dead on.
Nothing.
Noth….ing…!
“Cazio…”
Anthony scrambled back,eyes widened as he paled. Nothing. Happened. No game over or whatever that would signify an end to this hell. Nothing.
He had screwed up.
Max was innocent.
Anthony’s breathing quickened, and he looked to Adam, who looked just as surprised, just as pale.
“I-I just…”
The Italian whimpered, and Adam quickly made his way over to comfort his friend. He wrapped his arms around Anthony again, and the other male buried his face into the American’s shoulder as they perched on the crumbling roof. Running his fingers through Anthony’s dark hair, Adam cooed softly, trying to calm the Italian the best he could,
“Shhh…..You didn’t know...Anyone could’ve made the mistake….This is only a game.”
“How do you know?”
Anthony looked up at Adam with red eyes-- he had been crying..
“I know because I have a bit of sense. And I don’t think someone would actually take the time to knock us all out, drag us to one place, and then watch us kill each other. Which would take a few days. Besides, look at all of us. You were in New York. Mark was in L.A at the time. Evan was in Canada. Daithi and Jack were in Ireland. Bob was in Connecticut. Steven was in Seattle for something, wasn’t he? Why would someone take the time to drag us all here from our different locations and even countries?”
Anthony nodded, understanding. But guilt was coming in waves now, making him shudder and more tears to flow down his cheeks.
“Trust me, it’s a game.”
“Never Trust Nanners..”
Anthony chuckled sadly,and something flashed in Adam’s eyes, confusing the helpless Italian. He rested his head on Adam’s chest, who hugged him closer.
“You should trust me..”
Adam murmured, and Anthony responded softly,
“Why?”
“Because I wouldn’t do this if this were real.”
Confused, Anthony looked up at Adam before he felt an agonising pain between his shoulderblades. The Italian started coughing, and his breathing went thick as blood dripped down his back, and his shirt was quickly soaked crimson. His chest heaved, and every breath was a stabbing pain in his ribcage. Faint awareness entered him that tears were cascading down Adam’s cheeks, and a slight look behind him saw a glittering hilt of a knife protruding from between his shoulderblades. Ah, his tormentor. His thoughts whirled,
Knife. Knife-Adam-Terrorist. Game. Pain. Scream..?
But Anthony couldn’t find the air to scream. His vision started fading as the pain grew worse, but he slowly became numb. He could hear Adam continue to cry, clutching the Italian to him, burying his face into his dark curls.
“I-I’m so,so sorry An-Anthony..”
The world slowly faded to black as the pain disappeared, leaving Anthony cold and numb in what he could only think of as a waiting room. A cold and bleak and dark waiting room. Voices drifted in and out of his hearing, sounding an awful lot like his fallen friends. Words were scorched into his brain, seared into his eyesight ,even behind his eyelids. It bore a cold reminder of the previously beloved game,
THE GAME IS STILL IN PROGRESS