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Naib watched like a hawk from where he sat crouched down in the brush. His small frame and green cloak made him almost indistinguishable from the surrounding foliage. He at least hadn't been noticed yet by the hunter. About 10 meters away, The Violinist stood just inches from an occupied rocket chair. His lanky figure swayed unnervingly, moving along with the music that was emanating from the violin in his possession. Tendrils of long, ink black hair moved like snakes, pulling and pushing the bow along the strings in a slow and haunting melody. Naib had only encountered the musician a few times since his arrival at the manor, but he had quickly learned that The Violinist's abilities were ideal for picking off survivors as they attempted to rescue their teammates. Apparently, today the hunter was in no mood to prolong the match. Naib watched as The Violinist flexed his unnaturally long fingers, drumming them along the outside of his leg. The quick pace didn't match the tempo of the music at all. The hunter was impatient which meant he wasn't planning to let the rocket chair out of his sight until it finally blasted off. Thankfully, Naib was an expert at outplaying campers.
Seated on the aforementioned rocket chair was Victor. The Postman had been unlucky this match and spawned within plain view of the hunter. The chase had been so immediate that Victor had lost track of Wick in the chaos. He could only hope that his loyal, canine friend had gotten away unscathed. Sure, their injuries from the games were never permanent, but that didn't mean they didn't hurt. Naib inched closer through the grass, watching the hunter's movements carefully. He'd have to time it perfectly if he wanted to get close enough before being spotted. The Violinist shifted again, briefly turning his head to gaze behind him, looking out for any signs of movement. Naib took advantage of the single second of diverted attention and moved in closer, pressing up tightly against the tree that neighbored the rocket chair. Again, he wasn't noticed by the hunter. Victor hadn't noticed Naib either. He was oblivious to the other survivor just a foot away from him. He had seen the Mercenary send out a message when he had initially been knocked down. It had flashed on the screen of his communicator right before he had been easily lifted up off the ground.
Don't move. I'm coming!
Help was on the way, but that had been some time again and the seconds were ticking by. Victor was beginning to resign himself to the thought that the others were probably sacrificing him for more decoding time. He couldn't blame them entirely. He had gotten caught pretty early in the match. Slumping in his chair, Victor closed his eyes and his attention drifted to the music. Most of the time, it was impossible to appreciate anything that came from that cursed violin. The sharp, intense notes created by the instrument were always followed by pain as they fell on Victor's poor ears and shook his body with paralyzing vibrations. However, right now the sonata was lacking in bite. It was slow with long pulls of the bow. It was only as Victor sat there listening did he begin to recognize the piece. The music suddenly stopped and for that brief moment of silence, Victor realized he had been quietly humming along. He opened his eyes and felt his heart seize in his chest as he came face to face with his captor. The Violinist has such a wild mane of hair that it keeps his face mostly obscured. However, Victor could now see every detail in up-close horror.
First, there was that unnatural smile. Victor had at least seen that part before. He had watched it crack and curl in delightful hysterics whenever the Violinist brought survivors to their knees with his perpetuating notes. That horrid smile sat under a sharp and crooked nose which acted as the focal point for a grotesque, Y-shape scar that marred the hunter's face. From beneath the shifting, living strands of hair could be seen empty eye sockets. The right one drooped naturally due to its missing eyeball, but the left stayed open and wide as if the skin was being pulled taut. Despite the Violinist's empty eye sockets, Victor felt rooted in fear from his gaze. He would have no doubt collapsed from the sensation were it not for the rocket chair that kept him propped up.
"You were humming," came the voice of the hunter.
Victor didn't move. He didn't even recognize he was being addressed at first. He had never heard the Violinist speak before. That coupled with his frantically pounding heart had left him unsure of what to do. What could he do? While Victor hesitated, wild locks of tangled hair began to draw closer, encompassing what little space there was between himself and the Violinist. The dark hair spread out like a blanket, casting a large shadow that completely covered Victor's small form in the chair.
"I strike you and you don’t even whimper. Here I thought you were incapable of sound,” said the Violinist. An extension of hair moved dangerously close to Victor’s face, ghosting over where the Postman’s lips were sewn shut. Victor began to shake. He had no way of moving his hands to shield his mouth. This was it. Naib took his chance and flung himself around the tree and into view.
“Hey!’ Naib yelled, startling both the hunter and the survivor on the chair. The Violinist reeled back and swung. His bow collided with the trunk of the tree as Naib ducked under, making an unnatural, vibrating burst of noise as it made contact. With the hunter still looming above, Naib’s hands quickly grabbed onto the restraints on his teammate and began to pull them loose. Victor got a hold of himself at the sight of the other survivor and prepared himself to make a run for it. Thankfully, there were plenty of structures to weave around nearby and with Naib body blocking, it was pretty much guaranteed that they would both get away.
Clink
The Mercenary and the Postman both looked down at the large magnet that now sat affixed to Naib’s forearm.
Oh.
"What the hell was that?" Naib angrily spat. The trio of Naib, Victor, and Norton had managed to give the Violinist the slip and were now taking care of each other's injuries on the 2nd level of the Sacred Heart hospital. Victor sat on the floor, seated between the other two men with his pant legs rolled up. He had taken a nasty fall during their miraculous escape and received some bloodied up knees as a result. Norton looked up briefly from Victor's leg with little interest towards the Mercenary's temper.
"What was what?" Norton asked in feigned ignorance.
"Don't give me that. That magnet toss fucking sucked," Naib replied as he worked on putting some makeshift bandage wraps on Victor's left knee. Their injuries would be fine once they all returned to the manor, but this would at least stop the bleeding for the remaining duration of the game.
"It would've been fine if you hadn't jumped in the way as I threw it," Norton replied with a dismissive shrug. His expression stayed stern as he patched up Victor's other knee. Unfortunately, his medic skills lacked the uniform practice that Naib's had from years on the battlefield and his bandage wrappings were a bit clumsy. Victor gave the Prospector an appreciative smile regardless and only barely winced when Norton pulled a little too tightly.
"I was right there already. I sent out a message to let everyone know I was going for the save," retorted Naib. He briefly tapped on the glass of the communicator fastened to his wrist to drive home the point. "Don't tell me you didn't see it." All of the survivors were outfitted with the devices whenever a game began so that they could have some form of contact while scattered across each playing field. Norton had no excuse not to see the message. Rather, he had definitely seen it.
"You were taking too long," spoke Norton who was really not in the mood to argue. He recalled back to when Victor went down. Norton had been working on a cipher not far away. At first, he had been fine with letting Naib handle the save, but time had ticked by with no sign of their supposed rescuer. That was when Norton had stepped in. Tossing the magnet right as Naib had finally decided to show his face was just unfortunate timing;on Naib's part that is.
"I'm literally the designated rescuer," Naib bit back as he glowered at Norton. He was so focused on glaring daggers that he didn't notice how rough he was being with his hands. Meanwhile, Victor was suffering in silence as his poor knees were manhandled. On top of that, he had no choice but to sit still while his teammates argued over his head. Thankfully, Norton seemed to decide his work was done. The Prospector let out a tired sigh and gave Victor a pat on shoulder to indicate they were good. Victor thanked whatever higher power had allowed this tense situation to finally end as he rolled his pant legs back down. He was aware that Naib and Norton tended to bump heads a lot, but at least today Norton was willing to take the high road and-
"Well I guess you need to get better at rescuing then, huh?"
Oh .
Victor froze, but Norton was already getting up and heading to the doorway. The Postman slowly shifted his eyes and wasn't surprised to see Naib staring wide eyed at Norton's back in stunned anger. The Mercenary's mouth was open and trying to find something to retort with, but no words were coming out. By the time Naib finally got a hold of himself, the Prospector was long gone.
"That motherfuck-!"
Oh yeah. This was gonna be a long match.
Norton let out a grunt of pain as he was unceremoniously tossed into the rocket chair. The safety bar followed, coming down and locking into place over Norton's torso with a loud click.
"Do you gotta be so rough? You already blew out my eardrums," Norton grumbled towards his captor. The Violinist made no indication that he had heard Norton. He instead turned to survey the surroundings, hair plucking absent notes on the strings of his instrument. Norton grimaced and hung his head forward. His ears were still ringing from getting blasted by a wave of sound from that stupid violin. He had been running the hunter around the shack for a good minute and a half before the Violinist had finally caught him through the wall. Honestly it was kinda embarrassing. Norton still had plenty of magnets in his pocket, but one slip up had landed him in the rocket chair. He could only hope he'd distracted for long enough for his teammates to get close to wrapping up on the ciphers.
BRRRRRR!
The sound of the gate's sirens shook the air with deafening noise, further rattling the inside of Norton's skull. Someone had popped the cipher while he was still on the chair. Norton clicked his tongue in annoyance. So they were gonna sacrifice him for time to get the doors open? Great. The Violinist seemed to have the same thought as his head shot up and looked off somewhere in the distance, eye sockets glowing a vibrant red. The plucking of the violin stopped and all was quiet as he listened intently for something. Norton was just about to take another verbal jab at the hunter, but then there was a red flash accompanied by the sound of contorting muscle and Norton's captor was gone. Now all that was left was to wait for the chair to take off. No doubt the rest of Norton's teammates would slip out the gate the moment the hunter popped up. Blasting off sucked, but as long as the rest got out, a win's a win. Norton had just resigned himself to his fate when the sound of approaching footsteps caught his ear. The Prospector perked up as the familiar sight of green came bounding around a corner.
"Naib! Over here!" Norton called out to the Mercenary who slowed down just in time to end in a light jog towards the chair. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes. Get me off of this thing." Naib stopped in front of Norton and hesitated. He eyed his teammate up and down in consideration before taking a few steps back. "Um, Naib?"
That was when the Mercenary began to breakdance. Norton could only watch dumbstruck as Naib lowered himself to the ground and began to perform windmills, legs and body twisting and turning with ease.
"Naib, quit fucking around and untie me!" Norton barked, getting agitated. He began to struggle and kick against his restraints, but the safety bar was unrelenting. The timer on the chair was getting closer to zero with every second, but Naib just smirked at the Prospector's anger and went into another round of windmills. Norton began to panic. He only had a few moments left before take off. “Get me off this goddamn chair!” Norton screamed, getting desperate as the sound of the rockets beginning to hum to life reached his ears. In that last second before blast off, Naib finally stopped dancing and pulled the latch on the chair up. Norton fell forward, stumbling onto the ground. He took a second to catch his breath and calm his frantic heart before immediately turning on his so-called teammate.
"What the hell was that?" Norton snapped at Naib as he pushed himself to his feet.
"What was what?" Naib questioned in mimicked feigned ignorance, but the shit eating grin on his face wasn't well hidden.
"Don't mess with me, Subedar," Norton said as he aggressively approached, "What are you that petty about me upstaging you that you were seriously gonna watch me get rocketed back to the manor?" Despite the fact that the Prospector was taller and bigger than him, the Mercenary didn't flinch, folding his arms nonchalantly. Even with Norton up in his face, Naib made no sign of backing down.
"Oh piss off. You're still here, aren't you?" Naib retorted with a roll of his eyes. They glared at each other for a few heated moments before Norton finally stepped back with an agitated huff.
"Whatever. Let's just get to the gate," spoke Norton as he turned on his heels to begin their trek, "Thanks to your little performance, if I get chaired again it's an instant game over."
"...Well I guess you need to get better at kiting then, huh?"
Norton froze.
Oh.
Naib walked by without so much as a glance and went bolting off, the sound of his elbow pads activating as he ricocheted off a wall and was gone. Norton was left standing alone, blankly staring at where his teammate had disappeared in the distance.
"...That son of a-"
Norton paused as the sound of crows overheard signaled that he was the last survivor remaining and, like a cruel joke, the Prospector's heart rapidly picked up in his chest.
Fuck.