{ THE DARK COVE } UPDATED SEE PAGE 1

[Pales]

Praise was praise no matter how you turned it. He grinned a bit behind his mask as he reached up and caught the pendant, "Thanks," he muttered humbly and held the pendant in his hand. If things went the way they should then he should be able to stay in one piece with pendant in hand and everything would be okay.

Maybe.

Chances were there was always someone just as determined as Davii was to get at the pendant. For now he just held onto it and waited patiently for business to finish as it went on. Theta Seven was nothing if not patient.  

[medigel]

The claps were like thunder in their silence, or at least to Deli it was. He stared at the figure, at what it held, at even its question if such a thing was possible.

He thought. And he thought. Thev answered first, but Deli took time to think back on their conversations with everyone in the Cove, about the text they had received, about why they might be there at all on this God forsaken island.

"We were called here for a purpose," he began, picking up his cellphone to indicate the text. "And you said training. I'm starting to think you want us prepared for this legacy of yours. Maybe not specifically us, but 13 of us. And there's too many people on this island . . . Eventually they have to whittle down to that 13."

Even though he spoke steadily, it still stabbed at his conscience to say as much.

"Beta 8 and Epsilon 13 weren't supposed to come back, like Thev said. So you added them to part of our training - we are more prepared from the fight, and two more people are down for the count. Two birds, one stone."

 

[AyeAvast]

It was probably a good thing thick armor covered Deli's arm or he would have otherwise received a number of fingernail punctures from Thea's intense clinging. The Leader Dude had startled her considerably (but she had been expecting him! Goodness she was getting jumpy...) and when he had held out 3 pendants she had all but ripped the poor boy's arm off in her glee.
But then they had to answer questions about them? Hhmmm, this wasn't really her alley. She wasn't a metaphysical thinker. She was more of a "Look at the good job I did, prize yes?". So now she dropped her head slightly as she considered both their answers.
The idea that one couldn't come back from the dead was a very common thought to the girl. There was a movie, she thought it was a movie, where there was a genie and he couldn't bring people back because it was against the rules. And another movie with... Um, magical sisters of some kind who... They brought someone back from the dead and he was really gross and super evil, so they had to kill him again.
Dead people just can't come back.

But why did they have to be the ones to end the undead students?

"We have to punish them... To reiterate the idea that we cannot come back. If we kill those we know were already dead, it makes the whole ideal more concrete and this whole survival thing is ramped up immensely." Another long pause. "And Deli's right. Only 13 of us can survive. We just lost 3 people. Only the strong and smartest survive."
Speaking of surviving, whew! She was starting to get nervous about her health being so low... If they had another battle and she didn't get a heal soon she'd be out of here. But she had fought so hard! It just couldn't be!

Instead she patiently waited, her eyes wide behind her mask as she started between the Leader Dude and the pendants and hoped to goodness that her answer was good enough.  

[Zoobey]

"Why, very good, why its almost as if you were directed to come up with such conclusions." The voice was dripping with sarcasm, mocking. "Nonetheless, a victory is a victory, I'll relinquish these prizes to you, for your hard earned win."

The figure tossed the other two pendants towards the other two survivors. "Think of the pendants as a gift and a curse. By holding on to them, you will have an easier chance to die, but by not holding on to them, you will be guaranteed your death. After all, your training is far from over."

"But I've kept you all here long enough, way beyond your expiry date, it is now time to deal with our final travelers." Their scythe weapon hummed as it flickered back to life. And before anyone could cry out in protest, it glimmered, just once, and Beta Eight simply vanished. No bleeding cuts, no body, nothing. Just thin air and a strange black smoke, billowing out from where Beta Eight once stood. The smoke was barely visible, even against the glow of the weapon, and quickly vanished as quick as it appeared, seemingly engulfed by the light itself.

"One down, one more to go-" Flash and Epsilon Three vanished as welll into tendrils of black smoke. "Pathetic, but it will do. All right, the dirty work is done, this is the part where I bring in the conclusion of this exercise, which you might have guessed already. Epsilon Three and Beta Eight miraculously came back from the dead. But how is that even possible? How could they do it without my permission?"

"The answer is of course, that they never did come back to life. No, you were not staring at your former comrades but simply a mockery, a husk of their past lives. Don't give me that look, I know what you are thinking, but use your own logic and your gut feeling. You know exactly what I am talking about. If you think its all a joke, next time, I will not be around to give you a little lesson. It will all make sense to you soon, very soon, you all promised me the very same thing, so please, drive yourself onwards. Go discover the entire truth about this island adventure."

Finally a pause, a second to let all this sink in.

"Oh, by the way, you are free to go. This has been...entertaining."

Everything turned black as the ground dropped below them again.

((OOC: Congrats for surviving the ORP, your characters are now back in the thread they started out from (the Lighthouse), in their respective tent starting thread. You can continue onwards as you wish.
- Please note: if your character dies, their pendant can and WILL be looted from them. Keep that in mind
- FOR THOSE TWO DIED: PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE DEATH ORP, and await further instructions. ))  

[Pales]

((INQUIRY: Do we get our medkits back or are they lost forever in the space of time and etc?))

He listened intently as the figure explained what had happened and why the two prone figures had managed to regain the tender grasp of life. He honestly should have guessed that was what happened but honestly how could he? Theta Seven shifted his stance a bit as he gazed around at everyone for a moment and then he had the sensation that he was falling and all was black before he could say or do anything in respect to what just happened.

It made his insides do funny things as he just fell with nothing supporting him. It made everything around him feel unreal and insubstantial...

(EXITING TO LIGHTHOUSE BASE)  

[medigel]

Survived. They . . . They had survived.

Deli breathed out a sigh of relief as he gripped his pendant tight with both hands in an almost prayer-like gesture. Alive. Survived.

He hoped it would stay that way at the end of seven days.

But before he could say anything more, the ground once more opened up beneath them. He lost sight of both his comrades in the ensuing darkness.

But his pendant he clutched onto for dear life.

(( Exiting to Lighthouse Base! ))

 

[AyeAvast]

"Pendant..." Theta-1 breathed out as she spoke the word, her hands letting go of Deli to reach up and clasp her safety. It was a double edged sword sadly, as it would be her safety if she survived as well an increased danger could she not. But so long as she didn't go around boasting about it she'd be fine. Its not like she knew anyone knew she had gotten a pendant. She just had to lie. She was very good at this.

"Hey! Can I get my medikit back then please--" But before she could finish the sentence (she was going to put a cherry on top just in case) the dark swooped up and carried her away. Only now that she was stuffing the pendant down the front of her armor did she think about Deli and Thev. Would they all end up back together after all of this? They each had a pendant and Thea wanted out with them too. They all had to survive.

((Exiting to Lighthouse Base! Yo! ))  

[Zoobey]

"All ends are tied together."

The cave was dimly lit by a what seemed like old fashioned torches. Scattered around the cave were pieces of what seemed like fallen objects, dislodged rocks, a rather hazardous path to walk either directions. The figure turned, to what seemed like a dead end, facing an empty cellar cage. "Or something to that extent, it seemed more meaningful in the game manual I was reading."

They stopped and turned around. "And I could go on about myself forever, no, this part, it is about you. So tell me now, are you ready to leave this game?"

Did they mean leave the game as in death? It was hard to tell.  

[kalindara]

The hooded (and semi-deceased) Delta Seven followed the original hooded figure through the doorway. He paused on the other side, waiting for his eyes to adjust. It took a moment to realise that there was nothing to adjust to. The location was dark, only pinpricks of light coming from old torches on the walls.

Delta Seven sucked in a breath. He was back in the Dark Cove. His burial ground, so to speak.

The Hunter was speaking. D7 looked up and tried to focus on his words.

"-this part, it is about you. So tell me now, are you ready to leave this game?"

He considered it. There was no way to know exactly what the Hunter meant - a true death, the end of all the minigames, or perhaps the end of the island test. He couldn't be expected to guess at the Hunter's meaning - the hooded figure breathed ambiguity. No, Delta Seven simply had to examine what leaving the game meant for him.

Staying in the game might mean more games to him to run. But he wasn't learning anything new there. All the information that he was going to get from the Hunter about the island and the test, he'd already received. The figure had promised more knowledge - the truth - and perhaps his life back as well. Delta Seven didn't think those things were coming from continuing to play the game, however.

"I'm ready," he eventually told the Hunter. "It doesn't seem like there's much more to be gained by leaving things as they are. If this is the next step in your plan, I'm willing to go along with it."

Whether it meant death or not, the Hunter had a plan. D7 doubted that anything he could do would disrupt that plan, so why try. Something in him felt it was only natural to follow the lead of the person with more experience and knowledge.  

[Zoobey]

"See, I like that, as I said before, initiative. Get on the go. Action, reaction. Think, consider, and then bite the bait, take the consequences as they reach you." They paused, pretending to look thoughtful. "Speaking on consequence, there is one tiny little thing I need you to do, whenever you are ready."

Their figure blurred, faded, and was suddenly looming right in front of the former squad member, voice sharp, commanding, slightly menacing. "Take your weapons, the ones that I gave you, any of the two daggers will do, and kill yourself. Do it quickly now, somewhere fatal, it would suck if you only succeed in hurting yourself without dying, after all. You said you are willing to 'go along with it' so do it. End this game right here and now."  

[kalindara]

Any living person would have baulked at the order. Despite any obedience to the chain of command, human self-preservation was a powerful force that almost always won out. Delta Seven probably wouldn't have been any exception - except for the fact that he had already died once. It hadn't been a fun experience, bleeding out on the cold stone floor the first time. He recalled his death with brutal clarity, all the cuts and stabs and hits that had led to him falling right here, mere days ago. He couldn't say it was an experience he wanted to repeat.

But he couldn't say the idea of dying scared him like it had previously.

"Everyone is going to die," he said with a shrug. "I'd add a 'some day' to the end of that, but I get the feeling that it's much more literal here. That everyone on this island is going to die - and that's the end of the game, or test, for everyone."

Even if everyone else wasn't going out before or on the final, fated day seven, he hadn't been lying about following the Hunter's plan. The mysterious figure hadn't led him wrong so far.

"Besides, I'm already dead. Wouldn't have even had these extra days if not for you."

It would probably have been no skin off the Hunter's back to let Delta Seven stay dead. He'd mentioned that D7 was being judged while holding his own games, something that the Hunter hadn't been forced to allow. Maybe Delta Seven had been found worthy... and maybe not. There was nothing left for Delta Seven to do but 'end the game', as the Hunter advised.

Straightening his shoulders, Delta Seven knelt on the floor of the underground Cove. Nostalgic, a bit melancholic, but he brushed it aside. One of the knives he placed next to him, the other he grasped in both hands.

"I'd try disemboweling myself and ask you to cut off my head with that scythe of yours," he thought aloud, closing his eyes. "They do that in some other country, I think. But it seems like you want me to do this myself." Another test of will. The final test, perhaps. Besides, he'd heard that disembowelment was not a quick or pleasant way to die. The Hunter wasn't wrong to recommend a quick and fatal blow.

Delta Seven took several deep, calming breaths. His face was one of a man at peace with his actions. There was only the faintest of tremors as he raised his hands and rested the tip of the knife against the hollow of his throat. Surprisingly, he opened his eyes and stared straight at the Hunter. "I hope we meet again," he said, before plunging the knife into his throat.

Red filled his vision, life's blood pumping out of the carotid arteries in his neck. His last breaths gurgled in his throat, spraying from his lips what little blood made it past the gushing neck wound. Delta Seven didn't have the time or focus to wish that he had convinced the Hunter to take off his head to end it instantly, just a quick feeling of pain and regret and then -

- nothing.

Dead, glazed eyes bored into the Hunter until the corpse toppled to the ground. For the second time, Delta Seven's dead body lay on the cove floor.  

[Zoobey]

The figure simply scooted to one side, letting the blood trickle right past his boots. "Dr. H you b*****d, I swear you purposely did that to make my life worse."

They stopped monologue-ing to themselves long to crouch down against the fallen figure, tilting their head sideways at the mess. "Ahh, so much for reusing that cloak, note to self, ask them to take off the cloak first before suiciding. Oh well, trivial matters, now for the formalities."

A door flickered behind them, a brilliant blue that slowly faded away into a black abyss. Shadows swirled out from the door, grasping at the fallen body.

"Well, go on now." With a nudge of his scythe, the figure shoveled the entire body towards the door, watching in grim satisfaction as the shadows consumed the former Delta Seven entirely. The entire ordeal lasted only bare seconds as the door itself flickered and disappeared.

And as Delta Seven, or what had been them reached into the door beyond, the first of two things happened to them. Firstly, an awareness, as if they were no longer stuck inside a net, as if they could grasp their consciousness whole. Instead of dying they felt as if they were simply traveling. Secondly were the memories, all clashing together at once, hurriedly pushing all the pieces together.

"Delta Seven" was waking up.  

[kalindara]

Honourable discharge.

No matter how many times he read the words, they never changed. He still had this stupid piece of paper, the inclusion of 'honourable' no balm against the fact he had been discharged. His weapons were still gone, handed reluctantly back to the armoury after the order was finalised. He felt the absence of his Browning pistol and even his ceremonial backsword like a physical ache. Six years of his life, gone. And for what? David Brant, no longer a member of the army.

How did he stop being a soldier, when it was all he knew?

"Put that away, Davey," Jo's voice came from behind him. A neatly manicured hand squeezed his arm. "An honourable discharge is nothing to be ashamed of. Besides, you're still young! Plenty of time to choose a new career."

David's mouth tightened and his fists clenched. He shrugged the hand off and turned away.

Honourable discharge.

It should have been anything but, he wanted to scream to everyone who mouthed the same platitude. Disobeying the direct order of his superior officer - it should have earned him a Bad Conduct Discharge, if not outright Dishonourable. Mutiny in a time of war. Collaborating with the enemy. David was lucky he hadn't been shot there and then. The only reason, he wanted to tell Jo, his mum, his mates who came 'round, that he hadn't been dragged before a court-martial was because no one wanted to admit just what he'd been ordered to carry out.

So instead, a quiet discharge. Honourable, even. "Due to your exemplary record before this, son." More like a bribe to keep him quiet. As if he was going to tell anyone.

So here he was: twenty two years old, six years of military service under his belt, four as a junior officer, honorouably discharged. Expected to just get on with his life, go work behind a desk, or as a tradie, and forget what he'd seen. As if he could.

Even asleep, there was no escape.

'Wipe them all out.'
'That's an order, Lieutenant.'
'I'll have you ******** court-martialled for this!'

'Thank you. Your help will not be forgotten.'

Night after night, until Jo could no longer hold her peace or hide her bruises. She bustled around the small apartment, loud thumps and clinks echoing out of the kitchen while David sat on the lounge, staring at the illuminated screen of his laptop.

"I've tried giving it time," she shouted while making tea, ostensibly to soothe her nerves. "I've waited for you to come to me, to be ready to talk. But you never do! You toss and turn, you yell in your sleep, you look at that goddamn piece of paper every day as if it'll say something new. You do everything you can to not move on."

Cupboard doors slammed in counterpoint to David's fingers flying over the keyboard. The village they'd been stationed near, at the end. The people, the culture. Their rituals. He Googled anything and everything, searching for something to explain it. If he knew why that order had come down... If he knew just what it was he'd sacrificed his promising career for...

"And I wouldn't mind so much," Jo's voice beside him, a steaming mug of tea placed on the low coffee table next to him, another one held firmly in her hands as she delicately lowered herself to perch next to him, "if you were talking to someone. Anyone. It doesn't have to be me. Even a professional-"

"No." Flat and blunt. Not a chance.

A sigh. "What about your mum, then? She's calling several times a week now. Or your friends. They keep asking me if you're free for a night at the pub - asking me! As if I'm your keeper or would you at least stop typing when I'm talking to you?"

Of course he wasn't talking to anyone about it. Jo worked as a secretary in an accounting firm. As sympathetic as she was, what did she know about being denied the one job you'd had your heart set on since you were twelve? The career you'd started at age sixteen? Being less than a month away from his next promotion - Captain Brant, didn't that have a nice ring to it - and losing it all? His mother was relieved that her baby boy was no longer away on tours of duty. His mates, the ones left over from his high school days not his army life, all too ready to laugh at any hint of 'girly' emotion or sentiment. Only the fact that he'd owned a gun, killed people, and had that damn piece of paper saying everything was 'honourable' kept them from calling him a nancy boy for not immediately bouncing back from his discharge.

Besides... how could he tell them that the army kicked him out for refusing to execute a village of witches?

Small wonder no one wanted that coming out at a court-martial. David wouldn't have been the only one relieved of duty. The case would be laughed out of court, and the officers involved laughed out of the army.

Except it was no laughing matter for those who'd been there. David had scoffed when the Major had called the locals "witches". A stupid outdated superstition, David had said, that Her Majesty's troops had no business buying into. He'd not only refused to kill them, but had aided their escape - surreptitiously, of course, he wasn't fool enough to fight his own squad. He would have faced a firing squad immediately if he had. So, with no blood shed, David had felt pretty good about his choice of action. Until the ladies in question left his company - and something quite... strange... prevented the rest of his squad from pursuing them. David was left to wonder, just what had he rescued? Was there truth to what the Major had been claiming? His superior had clammed up after discovering David's actions. There was no more talk of witches or magic or curses. Even the talk of formal charges ended once they were in the air, on their way back to England.

David was left to wonder... was there such a thing as a witch?

'Thank you. Your help will not be forgotten.'

What did that mean? He had no clue who they were, or what he'd done, and that was something he couldn't just let go.

His search for information on the area dried up. It was around this time that Jo's patience also disappeared. Bags in hand, she stormed out of the bedroom. "I can't do this anymore. I don't know what you're chasing, but you're not the man I loved." After an expectant pause, she stomped her foot. "I'm leaving, do you even care!?"

Not looking up from his computer, David responded, "Mmm, that's nice."

He didn't hear the bitter, "Looks like you're not the only one who wasted several years of their life," or the slamming of the door. Some hours later, when his stomach moved from growling to trying to eat itself, David went looking for food and for Jo. He was more worried by the lack of the former than the latter, accepting her loss with a shrug. What David considered practical, others might call heartless.

It was on his walk to the shops for food when David first met the stranger. Even with his army-trained reflexes, David didn't hear the guy approach. That should have been his first clue.

"So, I understand you're looking for answers," the stranger began.

David was hooked. Over the next week, the strange guy appeared several more times, always revealing just a bit more information. David wanted to tell him that he didn't have to string him along - the first sentence had David willing to do whatever it took. And finally Mister Mysterious got to the point.

"...mankind doesn't have to be the cattle any longer. Nor even prey with a fighting chance. Because people like me, people like you, have the ability to become Hunters."

"I'm in," came the instant reply. "Whatever it takes."

Since the age of twelve, all David had wanted to do was to protect Queen, Country and his fellow man. He'd thought that meant joining the armed forces, fighting against those who would harm his country or enslave their own people. That path was now denied to him. And yet here was this Hunter offering David the chance to protect humankind from something even more insidious, even more dangerous. Though the fight would be different this time, he would once again walk the battlefield. Discharge or no, David Brant would always be a soldier.  

[Zoobey]

"Pulse rate is normal, breathing rate normal, eye movement rapid..."

A strange noise. Beep, beep. It was still dark or rather, David simply could not see.

"Well, it looks like we have our first successful arrival." Beep, beep, beep. "On a scale of one to ten, how would you judge your experience - don't answer that by the way. At least your arm stopped bleeding now, we were afraid you were going to leak all over the machine."

The droning was punctuated by a sharp hiss, and suddenly, everything was too bright. A barrage of senses assaulted David, a low humming noise, the consistent beeping even louder now, and the almost painful sound of that now unmistakable voice talking. As their vision cleared, they could make out the figure, looming in front of them, inspecting them like a slab of meat.

"Well, congratulations for making it aside, military stud, how do you feel? One hundred percent and everything? Oh, ha! Sans, of course, that arm, you know, I guess that would be ninety-five percent."

 

[Zoobey]

Before David could say anything else, the very familiar recruiter began navigating themselves through identical rows of what looked like strange glowing pods, something similar to science fiction novels really, towards the sliding glass door exit.

"Come on now, handsome guy, don't want to keep the others waiting." They looked directly David, smiling cryptically.