I feel like I must explain this before you read.
This is my version of The Cry Games: The original idea for The Cry Games was supposed to be a scavenger hunt where the winner would receive Cry’s love. It was only supposed to last two days. Well, someone was killed, which sparked a sudden massacre inside the enclosure. To insure no one else was hurt Battlestar locked everything down until it died down. Well it never did. So this.
Every chapter will be told in someone else’s POV. No POV will be repeated, and each one will somehow connect to another person so that the entire story may be told out. Also the ships will be fairly accurate, with a little bit of my messing around thrown in because I can.
I will post a new chapter at least once a week on Monday or Tuesday. I’m setting deadlines because procrastination. There should be about 40 chapters.
And I’m also still accepting suggestions for people in The Cry Games. Just leave it in my ask box, ok? Ok.
Well here we go.
Chapter 1: Dost
Sunlight streaked through the trees, lighting the forest with shades of green. The sound of the foliage under her feet crinkled with every step. Off in the distance she heard the sound of birds chirping and the rustle of other animals moving in the bushes. She noticed everything now, ears trained to pinpoint any source of danger after just a week.
Hard to believe that it had already been a week from the first day they were trapped in here.
But Dostmother-knowyou had already come to terms with the fact. So she was stuck in this forest, possibly until she died. Might as well make the most out of it.
She missed the social interaction. Being entirely alone for week made her want to scream at times, just so someone may hear her.
The sun seemed to grow hotter with every passing minute. In the shade of a tree she sat down. It was time to rest anyways. She hadn’t seen any other competitors for at least another day. She should be safe to sit for a bit.
Still she kept the small pistol close to her as she sorted out what was left of her rations. Dost had never been exactly the survival expert (but really, were any of them?) so she’d been living off of some nasty trail mix every competitor was given. It was almost gone, but it was better than what most had probably done: eat it all at the start.
A twig snapped nearby: sharp and sudden, echoing in the woods. Then another. Dost leapt to feet, pistol aimed. She couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from.
Dost spotted the blur of pink racing towards her at an alarming speed. She discharged her weapon in the general direction, but it was a blind shot. It missed horribly.
The person dove behind a fairly large tree, spooked.
“Who’s there?” Dost demanded, trying to sound intimidating even though her voice wavered at the last syllable. It could be another crazy fangirl who attacked her the other day. One out for blood, not for life.
There was no answer at first. Then a face slowly emerged from behind the trunk. Pretty features. Hair the color of bubblegum cut just above the shoulders. Eyes wide. “D-Dost?” she asked cautiously.
Dost raised her gun. “Don’t move.” Her lips trembled, because she recognized this face.
Despite the threat the girl still came out, hands up to show she meant no harm. Her clothes were covered in dirt, like she’d been running away from someone (or something) so fast that she had to plow through a mud pile. “Dost, it’s me. Chairmode.”
Dost didn’t move. Chairmodepewdie was a sweet girl, warm to the core, but so had been many other people in here. Other people who now welded knifes against their friends.
“Please, don’t shoot.” Chairmode pleaded. She looked exhausted, Dost realized.
“Why should I trust you ?” Dost asked carefully.
Chairmode paused for a moment, looking for a viable answer. Then she sighed. “You shouldn’t. But please.”
Dost frowned. She knew this was the real Chairmode, then. The honest one. She looked carefully at what Chairmode had. A small backpack identical to hers was draped over one shoulder. A curved knife was holstered to her belt, as well as a small radio.
Dost remembered the announcement that went out a few days ago, over this enclosure’s intercom: Attention Cryaotic tag members. We are currently still working on how to resolve this issue, so we have sent in the moderators to help lessen the chaos. Each will be carrying a small radio to communicate with us on the outside. Until then just remain calm, and get your shit together.
That was the first time she’d realized how bad the situation had gotten. So bad that the original chat mods had to come in to try and fix it. So bad that Cry was no longer able to mentally stand the gore knowing he was the cause. So bad that Russ had now taken charge.
The fact that one of the mods’ radios was now in the possession of Chairmode deeply concerned her. She gripped her weapon tighter. “Did you kill a mod?” she asked accusingly.
Chairmode’s eyes widened. “No!” Her hands went for the radio. “I found it a while ago, abandoned.” Her gaze dropped in sudden sadness. “I’ve been listening to it. I…I’m so worried.” Her voice cracked at the last word.
Dost saw the pain in her eyes, and knew she was telling the truth. She also wasn’t about to shoot the only human she’d seen in the past week. She slowly dropped the pistol to her side. “What did you hear?”
Chairmode smiled weakly at the acceptance. But the smile faded instantly when she spoke. “So many deaths. Death toll’s around seven hundred now. I saw what happened to some girls who were fighting…” She sniffed.
Seven hundred? This number shocked Dost. It had only been a week. What the hell was going on?
She too felt tears in her eyes now, but she held them back. Yes, she had seen some bodies. But the thought of there being at least another 699 out there just like it? No, just no.
She went to Chairmode and enveloped her in a hug. “This was all just supposed to be some stupid game.” She whispered.
“I wish it still was.”
She did too. It had started out as a scavenger hunt. Find the most sup guys hidden around the woods and win Cry’s love. The ultimate prize. And it worked out perfectly.
Until the first person was discovered dead. And then another. The thought that someone was out there killing people to win the dead spooked everyone into a full out war. Battlestar had to lock down the enclosure. They waited, hoping for it to die down, but it never came. Now they remained, waiting for something to change.
It had been a week.
Dost was wondering if anything was going to change.
“Dost.” Chairmode pulled away. “We need to stick together. Maybe we can get out of this alive then.”
Dost smiled. She liked the idea of having someone to talk to again. “Yeah. I need someone to keep me sane.”
Chairmode burst into a smile. “Great!”
They trekked along silently for a few minutes. Chairmode was surprisingly well at spotting small details in the brush: almost invisible footprints of an animal, snapped twigs indicating someone or something had already been down this paths.
A thought suddenly occurred to Dost. “Hey Chairmode. Who’s radio do you think it is?”
Chairmode stared down at the mod radio on her belt. “…I don’t know. But I’m sure they just dropped it or something…” she wavered.
“Nevermind. Let’s just not think about that.” Dost shrugged. The idea that someone had done something to the mods…let’s just not talk about that.
“That reminds me though.” Chairmode looked up, face sober. “I heard something else on the radio. I think you should know.”
Dost stopped walking. It sounded serious. “Okay. What is it?”
Chairmode turned towards her. Suddenly her eyes widened with horror.
Pain exploded across Dost’s left arm, sending a sudden numbness everywhere else that made her knees buckle. She crashed into the ground in front of her.
She felt someone reach for her pistol on her belt. Another pop. A thud of something falling to the ground.
And then hands helping her back to her feet. “Dost!” Chairmode screamed into her ear.
Dost blinked. She looked down at the fiery sensation that came from the crook of her arm. A massive gash stained her skin red. She’d been shot.
“Erg. That sucks,” was all she could think of to say.
Chairmode, still holding the pistol, carefully rotated the arm to get a better look. “It’ll be fine! It’s just a flesh wound!”
“Yeah, but it’s on my fucking good arm. I’m useless.” Dost grumbled.
There was no reply. Dost looked up to see Chairmode staring intently at something behind her. Quickly Dost turned.
Not ten feet in front of them was a body of young woman, eyes wide, mouth open as the hole in her chest stained her white shirt. She wasn’t moving.
Dost realized what Chairmode had done. “Chairmode?”
“I…I killed someone.”
“So have I. Listen though, we need to get out of here. People could’ve heard the shot.” Dost needed to get Chairmode away from here, so they could be safe. If one person found them already how many more can be out there?
But Chairmode approached the dead body. She bent down and reached for a bracelet on her left hand: the identifier. It listed your age and blog url. Everyone was required to wear one to enter the enclosure.
“‘Miss-entropicat.’” Chairmode read. “I killed her.”
“Chairmode, let’s go!” Dost pleaded.
Chairmode hesitated before pocketing the bracelet. She popped up and ran to Dost’s side to help her.
Next~ Chapter 2: Yunnie