The Game of Death [Inactive]

Jazzy

Jazzy

Play It, Don't Say It.
Gabe Drako submitted a new role play:


The Game of Death - There are fifteen, but only one will ive.


"You will fight, or you will die"





It is very simple actually, you can choose to kill, and have some hope of surviving.


Or, you can hide, and wait for death to some upon you.


It all started when you were in the accident...


You have no idea how it happened, but your car flew off the road...

​
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Tony ran his fingers through his hair. He would have rather just have stayed dead, but now he doesn't have a choice. He either kills, or he loses his soul. Tony flinches. Why did this have to happen to me? I hate killing! But... I can't let the others know that... His death had been terrible. It was his best friend... His friend had asked him to come over to swim, knowing Tony loved water. Of course, he accepted and walked over. He was on the diving board, getting ready for a front flip when he heard a big boom and pain rushed through his leg. Paralyzed by shock, he fell into the pool. Not but seconds after he hit the water, his friend dived in and pushed him to the bottom. Tony shook his head and snapped to action, easily overpowering his friend. Although he was very strong, he didn't stand a chance against a gun. Before he could move his fiends hand, his friend fired the gun, shooting Tony in the head and killing him instantly. He picks up his claw blades and puts the, on. "This is gonna be a hell of a ride..." He says, walking towards what seemed to be an airport.
 
Odd walked into the casino, It was like he left it, loud and it smelled like cigarette smoke. "Tssh" I hate cigarettes.. Odd thought bitterly. "Where are those bastards who killed me.." Odd said under his breath as he scanned the casino. Then he saw them, they were sitting at a bar. "There you are.." Odd said smiling. Odd unsheathed his blades. Odd walked slowly toward them, the crowd parted as he walked through.


((Wow got name wrong, edited this post and the one after this...))
 
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Tony walked up to his "Best friend" and tapped his shoulder. His best friend turned around in surprise. "Y-you... are supposed to be dead!" I laugh. "Yeah, I know." I run my blades down his face, tearing the flesh with a bloody ripping sound. He screams in pain. "Don't worry, it shouldn't last long." I say, sticking my claws into his skull. I cackle and run out of the store, leaving everybody horrified.
 
Odd ran his blades through both of there hearts, everyone went deathly silent. The two men choked on there own blood, Odd twisted the blades. The two men screamed. Instantly chaos erupted, people ran out of the casino screaming. Odd pulled the blades from there lifeless bodies as they slumped over the bar counter. Odd whipped the blades toward the floor removing the hot blood from the cold steel onto the tile floor. Odd turned and several security guards had there guns pointed at Odd. They opened fire as Odd ran toward them. One bullet grazed his cheek, and Odd decapitated the man's head in a spin slash. Odd grabbed the lifeless body and used it as a shield for the incoming bullets. Once there ammo was depleted Odd threw the body at another guard toppling him to the ground. Odd impaled another guard, then yanked the body forward with the hook on the sword. A guard tried to stab at Odd from behind but Odd used the body he pulled as the burden to take blade. Odd stabbed the guard through the neck and slashed at the one who fell earlier. Odd kicked one of the guards bodies to make sure they were dead. Then Odd sheathed his blades after cleaning of the blood and calmly walked out of the casino.
 
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"Wow," Arden smiled, grasping his hands to see if they really existed," so this is how it feels to live without death."


It was a lie of course, he knew he was going to die, but this new sort of death was fascinating for him.


"I wonder what I can do."


He looked over to his side, the restaurant patio he enveloped his happy playground. Across the street, the flicker of pedestrians flew by, the quiet evening little with distant noises.


"I guess I can figure out later," he chided, looking to his watch. "It seems its about time for the show to begin."


He stood and paid for his food, remembering to stop at a few places before he executed his plan. He only had one chance to gain their attention anyways. He may as well be prepared.


He eyed his Kunai, hoping he would never have to use such a thing.


"I can fix this," he murmured, looking over himself," I will fix this."


He left, hoping to the heavens above his voice would reach them.
 
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Assan remembered the day he died. He had been walking home full of excitement and happiness. He and Leera had finally gotten the life that they had always dreamed of. An independent life which he could build up with Leera, a life where they could share their joys, their misfortunes, and their hopes. It was like a dream, the happiness that rush into Assan and Leeras' very beings was so overflowing and real that Assan believed it had to be a dream. Their tiny bakery was doing well, and Assan and Leeras' happiness was so genuine and true that it spread throughout their small and peaceful neighborhood, livening up the mood of everyone.


And now, Assan was carrying in his pocket his greatest gift. It was a modest ring, a bland silver ring with a tiny emerald embedded within it. But no matter how modest a ring it was, it carried significance far greater than any ornate piece of jewelry could ever grant. Assan was ready to propose to Leera, to officially live with her as her husband.


Assan was shot as he turned a corner to buy some flowers for Leera. It had been a clean shot, right through his skull. The sniper was a spiteful man who had lost his mobster father in a shootout with Assan's gang which Assan now had no ties to.


It was such a pitiful story, circumstance had pulled down Assan and Leera all their lives, but Assan had managed to beat them away and rise up beyond what circumstance dictated him to be. And now circumstance had won, had cleanly went past Assan's head and destroyed everything he had worked for.


What hurt Assan the most was not that he was robbed of living with Leera, but that he had broken his promise.


He remembered her soft hand grasping his, as her loving emerald green eyes shone as she softly whispered her promise, her promise to have Assan always by her side. Assan always kept promises, and he had only made two with Leera, including the one he had just broken. The other was that Assan was to never kill.


"Lets leave behind our pasts now, you shouldn't kill anyone anymore. There's no need to hurt anyone now"


Now it seemed that fate was spitting in Assan's face. He had been revived once more to have a chance to rejoin Leera and to fulfill her promise, but now he had to kill. He had to break a promise.


It was a cruel irony that Assan lived in, and yet he still had the determination to go on. Leera's love and her promise fueled his entire being. Because beyond all promises, Assan truly wished for Leera's happiness. If worst came to worst, he would kill. Not for his sake, but for Leera's.


Assan's killer had long been executed and tortured by Assan's gang, as Assan had been an inspiring figure that was so very tragically snuffed out by one selfish man and Assan's gang realized this. Assan had found Leera living alone and managing the bakery. She had been a strong girl her whole life who had faced tragedy as long as she could remember, but Assan's death left her a broken shell. She barely talked and her eyes had lost their happy luster. Assan didn't tell her that he was alive, nor did he make his presence known. What he had to do know was for her, but in the end, it was murder. Leera would never approve.


Assan stepped out of the American airport. He had come all the way from Romania for this battle royale.


And for Leera's sake, he would win no matter the cost.

​
 
Vivan woke with a startled gasp, pulling the white sheets that covered her vision off of her. What the- Where am I? Last thing she remembered, she was at Enrique's, kicking back and getting high as could be. Everything was fuzzy after that. She didn't remember leaving Enrique's so much as she recalled being outside, unable to feel the cold or make out the stars in the night sky. That was the last thing she remembered. Well, that, and that wicked hallucination with a man. A strange hooded figure speaking about killing for her own life. Now that she remembered it, it was pretty amusing. Anyway, that was beside the point, where was she now? She moved her hand to get a better grip on the cold metal table she had been laying on- CLANK.





She looked over to see what had fallen. Is that- No way. That wasn't real! Oh, but it was starting to look like it was. What had fallen on the ground was the spear the man from the 'hallucination' had given her. Looking down, she noticed another thing. One- she was clean, completely clean, something she hadn't been in ages. Two- she was stark naked. No wonder it's so damn cold. She grabbed the sheet that had been covering her and wrapped it around herself. Still, the room she was in was way chilly- Am I in a morgue?! she finally realized, a collection of bodies on metal rolly tables, covered by white sheets. I... did I really... die?





Vivan pushed herself off the table she was on, her feet landing on cool tiles. The blonde shivered as cold seeped through her soles and then reached down to grab the spear. Her spear. Upon kneeling down, she noticed the tag on her toe. Jane Doe. She scoffed dryly, Figures.


Great... she thought, standing in a room surrounded by bodies prepped for autopsy or whatever. Now what?
 
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Darkness. Cold. Pain.


Rachael's back was aching horrendously and freezing cold. She shivered as she opened her eyes to find nothing but to be greeted by the darkness.


What a crazy dream... she was at the bank taking out her life's savings to hand over to her brother then... someone came in with a gun and grabbed her from behind.


Wait, why was I at the bank again ? Why was I taking out my life-- OH, right. Monday... I was going to do it. Kill myself and... I was at the bank taking out my cash for my little bro. Damn... but didn't I die too? That bank robber shot me!





That he did. Not for any other reason except out of sheer bloody panic. Her life was wasted and not even for a real reason. Just shot because he freaked out because of the cops surrounding the building.


No. I'm not going to let myself become just another number in the body count of some amateur criminal. At least I would have taken my own life with a reason behind it... and... my brother. He must be missing me right now... damn it. I was supposed to take him out to that movie on Sunday as my sort of... goodbye but I didn't even get that.





Anger.


I will take my little man to that movie.





Hatred.


But first I will find that bastard and beat the life out of him.





Her right hand tightened around something. Blood boiling as a fire burned deep within, Rachael sat up, the white sheet sliding off her-- she heard something and looked around.


Tables surrounded her with dead bodies. Also she was holding the crowbar from the man in her right hand.


"Just perfect..." She turned to find, much to her surprise, another girl holding a spear next to one empty table. Shocked as her heart jolted, she screamed!


Rachael was afraid of zombies ironically enough so if you can put two and two together...


"K-keep your distance! I have a weapon!" Gripping the sheet to her chest then, as she inched back in panic, she fell off the table.
 
It was raining, but Arden didn't mind. He enjoyed the sensation. It reminded him of what it felt to be alive.


"I almost got it," he murmured, biting his tongue," just a little bit more".


One quick sweep and suddenly it was done, his makeshift antenna working properly.


"It's almost showtime." He stared at his watch, wondering if what he wanted would be the right thing to do at all. He didn't know how the others would react; maybe they wouldn't join him. He shook this thought away. He'd already spent a lot of time working this out and thinking this through. This was the best way to help. He closed the cracked laptop, set the timer, and ran away, sure that someone would reply to his message. There would be no other chance to save the others.


........................


Thirty Minutes later...


" This just in. A rogue broadcaster has hacked and stolen the emergency broadcast station. While there is no word on the perpetrator as of yet, the message relayed has already been sent to every know part of the continental US. The phrase "The Heart of Stone is in Emerald City" has already become a trending topic on the web and across the world. While officials at Emerald City have yet to report on the matter, police believe ..."
 
I slowly walk through the streets of Emerald City, seeing another man with odd weapons. oh lord, it's one of them... I run up to the stranger and run my blades down his back softly, scratching it, but not drawing blood. "Hey, behind you." I say with my weapon raised in case he tried to attack.
 
Alexei slowly opened his eyes to see something a tad bit lighter than the darkness of death. The ceiling? He wasn't dead, the man fulfilled his promise. He was afraid to move his body, afraid to feel again, so soon after embracing the cold of death. How did he die? He tried to remember, how he came back from school on that rainy day. Back then...he was happy - did he get a good grade? No. Did he finally get that redhead he's been flirting with? No. He was just happy...for no reason, even after a regular boring day. Happy to be alive. Until the truck slipped on the wet street and hit him.


The truck didn't kill me... he kept thinking to himself. And he was right, the truck pushed him to a stone wall where he lost conscience. As he tried to get back on his feet, someone stomped him in the head - multiple times, he couldn't see...he couldn't remember who exactly. Someone took advantage, someone wanted him dead.


But he was alive, yet afraid to wake up. Silently he placed his left hand on his chest to reveal not only that he's not wearing anything at all, but that he has a bow attached to his back, with a full quiver. The man...it wasn't a dream, it was real. His head remained fix to the ceiling, but his eyes tried surveying the room that looked like a morgue. Through his swarm of shattered thoughts a female voice could be heard on the other side of the place, boasting that she had a weapon. No. That was a warning, to keep him back. The man said that Alexei had to kill in order to survive, and that there are 14 others whom had to do the same. In an instant he turned from the metal bed, landed on his feet, his sheet still covering the upper part of his body, and pulled forth the bow, reading an arrow. He aimed it straight at the voice of what seemed was a blonde, naked girl. He whistled to grab her attention.


"That makes two of us!" he said with a smirk on his face. The girl held a crowbar, he could send the arrow and be done with it, but next to her there was another one, this one wearing the sheet in a more efficient manner. He quickly glanced at her "Or three..I guess." he held the string and the arrow with his teeth as he readied another. If he released the bow he would have hit both targets. The girls sat close enough to one another for him not to miss, assuming they won't move. But he couldn't do it. Those girls did nothing wrong, that he knew of. They could become his allies, and besides, they both looked like good enough catches.


"Now, what's stopping me from emptying those arrows into your fine..." he looked over at the naked girl, his smile widening "Fine bodies?"
 

Assan shrugged as he heart the hacked broadcast. He had inadvertently come to the Emerald City. Such a coincidence, or perhaps it was no coincidence and simply fate tugging lost strings together. Assan's gauntlets were completely concealed by the overly large sleeves of his leather coat, so he wouldn't raise suspicion by lugging around two intimidating bladed gauntlets.


Assan just aimlessly walked around the city. He had nothing to do except wait. He could hunt and kill, but Assan would never do that. He had decided that he would only fight in self - defense and if death was brought about because of that then so be it. This way Assan minimized the breaking of his no - killing promise, although the mere thought breaking this promise anguished Assan. It had to be done though, and Assan had always believed in fulfilling duties with the greatest effort possible.


Assan eventually decided to rest against a wall of a hospital. The hospital had reminded Assan of the same emergency care center he had taken Leera before they first met, and the sentimental value attached to those memories was too great for Assan to continue walking. He began to immerse himself in the thoughts of his past; he though of the happiness he had felt but the only emotions that came back to him were regret and hate.


Assan shook his head of his past, there was absolutely no use in thinking about it now.


That was when Assan heard the muffled voices. Assan was at the back of the hospital building, where not many people went. There was a locked door, an emergency exit, and a plethora of trash cans around the side of the building Assan was on. Apparently this was where the trash went out and where not many people went in or probably out either. The muffled voices had come from behind the locked door, and Assan was curious. Just who would be here?


Pressing his ear against the door. Assan intently listened.


"Now, what's stopping me from emptying those arrows into your fine... Fine bodies?"


Firstly, Assan rubbed his head instinctively when he heard this, the line sounded like it was from an idiot or a cocky bastard. Maybe both, and since it was male, Assan could deduce he was threatening women. With arrows?


Who in this day and time carried arrows?


That was when the thought struck him, perhaps this was another one of the fourteen the mysterious man had mentioned.


Assan took off his leather jacket, it was a hindrance and it would come to be useful. Slinging it over his left arm, Assan stepped back and slammed the door with his right shoulder. Assan's trained body and impressive physique caused the door to push back, barely being held on by a few loose hinges.


Wrapping the jacket around his left arm with a twisting motion, Assan simultaneously kicked the door in and stepped in the dark room, assuming his fighting stance almost instantaneously and flawlessly - the result of years of hard practice. Sunlight streamed in from the outside, lightly illuminating the pitch black room. He saw what he had expected: A man pointing a bow and arrow at a blonde woman. It would be less than a second before any man would turn around to face Assan, and in this precious second Assan performed a double lunge, closing in almost seven feet of distance in just past a second. If the man was incredibly fast, he would have been able to turn around and point the bow at Assan, but Assan would then be in melee range. Besides, facing Assan would leave the man open to an attack from the woman he had been harassing. But Assan was not willing to kill, he had his arm cocked and hand pointed straight at the man's right side, ready to puncture a lung at the slightest movement of hostile action. The man was a fool for expecting to win a fight in such a small and enclosed room, and if the blonde girl had any skill at all and had been quick to react, she would have either killed the man just before he could fire an arrow or at least take an arrow and deal a severe blow. But Assan guessed that she was taken by surprise anyway. As of now though, the man was practically cornered. The jacket tightly wrapped around Assan's left arm could serve as armor to block an arrow if the situation called for it, and Assan's left arm was instinctively placed above his head in an angle where the man would have to fire below Assan's torso to ensure a hit, thus missing any vital points. Assan's pale, emotionless yellow eyes stared straight at the man. If the man furrowed his brows or twitched his lips, Assan would puncture a lung without hesitation. If his eyes widened or his brows were raised, Assan would not do anything except make it clear that he could kill the man.


Assan had plenty of experience in this same situation, except the man before him would be replaced by a man with a gun. It took considerably more skill and awareness to perform this same trick upon a gunman but it was nothing that Assan could not do. His experience in holding people at gunpoint, knifepoint, fistpoint, whatever, was also extensive, hence his ability to discern killing motive simply by analyzing a face.


Years upon years of experience charging into rooms and quickly disabling experienced shooters with nothing but his bare hands was a skill that was incredibly useful at this moment.


From the moment Assan had kicked in the door, he had taken just around two seconds to execute this move. Seven feet to cover easily covered by his double lunge in just one second, and he had planned everything during the lunges and had landed with his left arm set to protect him and his right arm ready to strike. Assan had killed for too long and too efficiently, he was an absolute master of his trade, and Assan had turned down offers to become an expert hitman or an assassin just because of his ideals with made him feel that slinking in the shadows was wrong. An ordinary person would have barely been able to follow Assan's motions, to say the least.

​
 
The hook of a crowbar came up and snagged Alexei's arm holding the bow aiming at Vi. Swiftly he was yanked down to meet the gaze of a second blonde girl on the floor. She wound back and punched him square on the jaw and pretty hard for a girl too.


Rachael was acting on impulse. He proved to be a threat and it was just moments ago-or hours, she wasn't sure-that someone with the similar intent took her life. She unloaded merely a shadow of the rage she had for the bank robbed on the archer.


If you will excuse the pun, she had beaten Assan to the punch.
 
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"Hmmm... I probably should have been specific on where to meet," Arden mumbled, walking around his daily route," too bad I can't hack the station again. Their security is awful now."


It had been some time since the earlier incident, and as things were now, there were bound to be others in the city as well.


"The only thing now is how do I gather them..."


Suddenly, he felt the cold touch of steel along his spine. Instinctively, he grabbed his jacket pocket.


'How did he...'


He looked back slowly and saw the scruffy young man before him, his features lined by age and something else. He seemed to be holding a hand weapon, some sort of claw that let him silently reap.


Looking down, it occured to him that his kunai was hanging out like a makeshift chain, the pocket that held it cut through by its own point. The irony was enough to kill him there.


'This doesn't look good,'he thought,' I can't leave the game this early, especially without giving my peace.'


He fumbled to find an escape when ,all at once, it dawned on him.


'I can use this to my advantage.'


Silently he turned back, happily meeting the man before him.


"The name's Arden," he lauded," Arden Gibbson. It's a pleasure to meet you. Say, would you mind doing me a favor? "
 
Tony thinks for a minute. "Depends, are you planning on jabbing me with that?" He points the the Kumasi and chain... A makeshift weapon... In Arden's hand. "If not, then It'd be a pleasure to help you with your problem, because I'm ready to kill these douchebags!" He says, a forced crazed look in his eyes.
 
"Whoa, whoa," Arden laughed, enjoying the moment with his new friend," there's no need for that kind of language. And no one said anything about killing. I just need you to help spread intel, thats all."


"As for this," he motioned, pointing to his weapon," I wouldn't use it to cut my apple. I have no need for it."


"You, on the other hand," he said, noticing the pressure in his back," need to tone it down. I like a good back rub as much as the next guy, but this is going a bit too far. For one, we've barely met. Let's save the chumminess until formalites have been taken care of, okay?"
 
I cackle. "I'm not exactly one to play around." His smile slowly turns into a frown. "I suppose we could form an alliance..." I growl. "But if you EVER double-cross me, I will rip your throat out." I say flatly, trying to hide the fact that it sounded disgusting. "Now, tell me what it was that you needed... Before I change my mind about you." I say, getting impatient.
 
"I don't want to form an alliance,"Arden smiled, his charisma stengthening his resolve," I want to be friends. Alliances can be broken, but friendship is forever. You don't seem like a bad person, so on some level, I think I can trust you."


Slowly, without furth aggravating his back, he reached out a hand.


"Does it sound good? Everyone could always use a friend, especially in these times. Its not everyday you wake up dead... at least I hope its not. I'm not one to judge if you do, but I'd sure like to know your secret if you did."
 
I think for a second, then I shake your hand. "Sound good, I guess." Tony is very frustrated at this point. "Now, I really don't feel like asking again. What do you want me to do for you?!"
 
A sudden voice put Vi on edge. A weapon? Another one of the fourteen? Here?! Damnit she shouldav thought to check the bodies for weapons! She brought her fists up instinctively, completely forgetting about her own gifted weapon. The blonde turned just in time to see-


a pair of legs in the air right before they disappeared from view with a fwump!


"Pfft." Well that situation had deescalated quickly. Perhaps the girl (Vi guessed 'girl' because of the voice) was dangerous, but right now Vi felt as threatened as she would have in front of a hamster. Tentatively, she took a step towards where the girl had fallen (Vi wasn't one for 'waiting and seeing') when another voice broke into the air.


Vi turned on her heel, this time to see a boy, another dead body alive- A thought struck her- Were all the fourteen here? More pressing- she was on the wrong side of the arrowhead. The boy had it trained on her, eyeing her up and down in a way Vi had encountered countless times before. She'd have rolled her eyes if they weren't stuck staring at the arrow.

"Now, what's stopping me from emptying those arrows into your fine... Fine bodies?"

​



Vi reacted like any threatened street punk might.


"My foot up your-"


BANG! Before she could finish her delicate and well thought out diplomatic statement that wouldn't have at all landed her into a state more fitting of one in a morgue, the exit door burst open with great force. A blur passed by, before Vi could do more than stumble a step back, a man with metal gloves was upon her would-be attacker.


But before the metal gloved man, presumably one of the fourteen, could land a move on the bow wielder, a hook made of metal appeared just in view. Not anything else, rather, almost comically, just the hook came into view, and then took the archer down with it.


It seemed the man had put all fifteen of them in one room and expected them to duke it out. If Vivian got out of this alive, hell, even if she died, her ghost and the man were going to have a few choice words. She moved to action, stepping back to her table to grab the spear. It felt foreign in her hands, though her body moved to accommodate it, weight falling on her back leg.


Now with it in her hands, she moved fast on her legs and repositioned herself. The curved blade now found itself pointed at the archer. She wasn't sure what was happening exactly, because as far as it looked like, hadn't the metal-hand-man just saved her from her potential status-change to pincushion? The owner of the the metal hook, presumably the girl who'd fallen out of sight before Vi'd gotten a good look at her, too had attacked the bow wielder. Well, 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend,' so the saying went anyway. Plus, her weapon gave her some range, perhaps giving her a breath of a chance if it turned into a mad free-for-all. She was surprised it wasn't already like that.


Vi kept her spear trained on the boy, but didn't thrust. One, because she was dead sober and her crisp clear brain was alerting her that she was about to kill. As far as Vi remembered she'd never taken a life. Sure, beaten some to an inch of their life, but that was totally different. The main reason she didn't poke a hole in the archer with her spear because she was unfamiliar with the feel of the weapon in her hands. At the least she would miss and look like an imbecile- At the most, she could strike a would be helper... Oh thanks for saving my ass- here's a stabby-stab to thank you! Yeah, that'd go over real well. The best move was to not provoke the death of her aids' generous spirits. That, well, and keeping her eye on the archer in case he moved her way.
 
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First things first,"Arden insisted," I need your name, and my spine back. As much as I enjoy being near company, your a little to close with that; one false step and I'll be dead again before I know it. If it pleases you, I'd rather not relive it: I've had all the death I can take for the time being, and at the moment, I really hope you don't take more as well."


"As for your name..."


Arden smiled at this.


"I really would enjoy knowing a friends' name."
 
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