>>28300140

'Kelvin,' she starts, 'is not my father. We're not related. He's... he adopted me.'

Right. Well, that explains the complete dissimilarity. And yet, someone like Kelvin, unemployed and apparently unbalanced - why would he be allowed to adopt Elina? Or *anyone*? 'So when was this?'

'It's not legal. It was... three or four years ago. My parents gave me-'

'When you were what, twelve?'

'More or less twelve, yeah.' She puts a hand on your lap, gently, as if to tell you not to cut her off mid-sentence. Oops. You instead shift a little closer and straighten up, listening as she talks. She's using her slightly exhausted whisper again, sounding as if weighed down with stones. 'And so we've been travelling together, all around.'

You wait for a moment to make sure she's finished, but when you try to ask a question the words jam. There doesn't seem to be a question you can ask that doesn't lead to what might be a horrible answer. Still, Elina waits for you. 'Um... so... is Kelvin nice?'

'He's...' she rubs her forehead. 'He is nice, most of the time. But he says he has... an urge. Sometimes, he says, he cannot control himself, if he sees... people. And he attacks them.'

Oh god. Oh *shit*. So you weren't dreaming anything. For a moment you were wondering when you stopped being by the river of blood with Elina and when things were *actually* going to pot. But you still know she was there. And you still know she ran out, into the rain, alone. Saw that with your own eyes...

> Ask if that's what happened last night.
> Why ask? It's what happened. It's not Elina's fault. Comfort her.
> Is Elina somehow in league with Kelvin? (Write in to probe if you suspect.)
> Other.

>>28300344
>> Ask if that's what happened last night.

Just to make sure.

>>28300344

> Ask if that's what happened.

File: 1384508821698.jpg-(15 KB, 150x150, 1384137179782.jpg)

15 KB JPG

>>28300140

Is it bad that I want to slowly squeeze my thumb into that bleeding eye until it squishes completely?

>>28300344
> Ask if that's what happened last night.

Don't mention seeing Elina running out after the girl unless she brings it up herself. If she doesn't bring it up ask what she did last night while Kelvin did whatever Elina said he did.

>>28300400
>>28300370
>>28300424
>>28300434

> No, it means you're probably just the kind of person this quest would like. Welcome!

'Attacks them? As in... does he try to kill them?'

Elina says nothing, but her head bobs slightly, just once. 'Yesterday it happened. He dragged a girl in. When he's in his... when he's like that, he won't listen to anything. And then I, I woke up, and I saw him.'

'And you had a fight?'

'I was scared, Stan.' This girl who told you to fight back against four bullies - turns out she has her own nightmares, so that even the mention of Kelvin's name is a little unwieldy, as if her mouth won't form the syllables easily. 'Sometimes when... Kelvin, when he gets angry, he will turn on me instead.'

A little lump of ice forms in your chest, seeming to burn with each breath. Elina says it like she knows a pattern. So if he's denied, then he would...

Then, with a little click, it all seems to fit into place. That's why you saw Elina running out into the rain and fog and disappearing. She wasn't going to do anything bad, or anything like that. She- she was trying to avoid Kelvin-

Your brain refuses to go on from there. This time you raise your other arm to hold her around her shoulders, and she sits a little stiffly, letting you hug her. You don't know if she or you is being more comforted, but if she's safe here, then... 'so your arm? Was it injured? Did Kelvin scratch it?'

'Huh?' She glances at her sleeve. 'Oh. This was just a little accident. It's nothing.'

> If she says so...
> Fuss over her. You're going to take care of her. What the fuck is this situation anyway?
> Other.

>>28300484
>> If she says so...

Ask her why her parents gave her to Kelvin.

>>28300484
Voting for >>28300507

Do we even have any bandages or first aid kits we could offer her?

>>28300484
> Other.
"So, you said yor parents gave you to him? Why? And, is going back to them an option. I'm a dunce, you wantva bandage for that, then? I keep a pretty good first aid kit because of... well, you know."

>>28300541
>>28300507
>>28300572

> You do have some stuff at home - after all, when you've been kicked around or given some proper scratches by Gerald and his buddies, you do need to take care of yourself.

'Really? You're okay? I mean, I've got a first aid kit and everything. I'm pretty experienced in handling cuts.' Well, even a rubbish person like you has to take care of yourself.

'I'm okay. Thanks.' Gently, almost so as not to let you down, she also moves one of your arms from her, then the other. 'Your mother is awake. I can hear her.'

'Eh?' You sit straight, listen a little... but hear nothing. 'That can't be.'

'It is.'

Speaking of mother, you suddenly realise something about Kelvin. If even Elina figured he had his mental problems, then surely her parents must have had an inkling... 'so, did Kelvin know your parents before? Is that why they gave you to him? I mean, if they-'

Elina turns, her eyes a sudden picture of surprise and fear, and she places a long finger against your lips. It's super effective. She's achingly cute like this, even though you know it's not a pleasant thing that she's here, pulling this expression. 'I don't want to talk about it. It's too late now. I've been with him three years...'

'Speaking of which. Does he know you're here?'

'No. I, uh, I sneaked in the window to change. Then I climbed up to your window. But you took so long that I got wet anyway.' Then her head snaps up again, and with one hand she actually shoves you across the couch unexpectedly, so you sprawl out on the other end. But then you hear the room door open. Elina was right.

> Oh shit, Mom *is* awake. What do/say, Stan?

>>28300611
mumble good morning

>>28300611
"Oh, uh, hey mom. This is Elina. You off to work? Want me to cook something before you go?"
Play it cool, act like things are totally normal.

>>28300661

This. She knows about the new neighbours. So one coming over for breakfast is not unusual.

>>28300692
She might wonder why Elina is in our pajamas.

>>28300692
And why Elina is bleeding

>>28300639
>>28300661
>>28300692
>>28300703
>>28300714

You scramble to sit up, just in time to face your mom, standing there with a tired expression on her face and scratching her upper arm. She has the same inclination as many of the women in your family - she ages very, very well. 'Stan?'

'Good morning, Mom. Breakfast is on the table,' you point. 'Also, this is Elina.' You point again.

'Good morning, madam,' Elina says, one hand moving quickly to cover the little patch of blood on her pyjamas' sleeves. Mom stands there, in her own pyjamas, her eyes wandering from you, to Elina, and then back to you again. Oh shit. Ohhhh shit. Don't ask about Elina. Don't ask why she's in your hippo pyjamas. Don't-

'Why aren't you at school, Stanley?'

OH FUCK YOU FORGOT ALL ABOUT THAT! But just as your mind panics and stumbles immediately for the 'keep talking nonsense' switch, Elina glances at you and then back at her.

'He's sick, madam,' she says. 'Since last night.'

'What? Really?' You look over at Elina. Woah, that was a pretty quick and all-covering lie. 'Is that why you're here in Stanley's pyjamas, then?'

'Yeah,' came the reply, without hesitation. Mom flashes you a look, and then - you weren't expecting this - gives a little nod, as if of approval, before she walks to the kitchen and sees the breakfast you originally made for yourself.

'Oh, I'm fine! That's so much breakfast. I'll take another nap, then I'm off to work. Orinoco is really busy, Stan, the hours are crazy...' You shift a little closer to Elina, then wait for Mom to walk past back to her room again. 'Also, young lady, do you want a drink or anything?'

'No, thank you, madam.'

'Oh, don't call me madam! Just call me Lily.' With that she goes back in... did she just wink at you?

'She's happy,' Elina murmurs, absent-mindedly. 'She smells excited...'

> What do/say, Stan?

> Start planning the day with Elina. You're not staying in. And she probably can't go back. And you're not going to school...

>>28300823
What are the points of interest around town?

>>28300823
> Ask what she wants to do.
Also, do we have any notmal clothing that might fit her, seeing as she probably shouldn't go home to change.

>>28300823
>Go fishing.

>>28300885
>>28300884

'Smells excited?'

'Yeah.' Come think of it... you subtly lean a little and sniff at the air in her direction, and the scent which comes to you is a little strange as well. It's almost as if she's wearing cologne or perfume, smelling a little like... lemon, and a little like rose. Or something like that. But under that, there's a deeper tone, almost like charcoal or something. Does she *naturally* smell like this? You're pretty sure she hasn't put on any sort of scent...

'What do you mean, excited?'

'Like, for a mate,' she replies curtly. Damn. Can she smell *that* as well? Also, damn. The thought of Mom having another boyfriend... it was last year, the last time that happened. Pete, his name was. Pete, that little bastard...

'Did I say something wrong?'

'Nah, it's nothing,' you reply. To your surprise, Elina crawls over and then leans against you. Nice as it is, there's still something strange about her behaviour. Maybe the fright she got from earlier tonight is making her a little stickier?

If so, then what's going to happen in the future? Selfishly, you'd like her to be a bit sticky, like this. But if that requires her to be threatened all the time...

> cont'd.

>>28301017

Anyway, what's clear is that you'll have to run some errands, most importantly the doctor for your medical slip. After enjoying the presence of Elina for a while, you reluctantly tap her and go off outside, heading for the nearby clinic.

It's drizzling, again; the sky is still the colour of a steel plate, with little wisps of clouds being driven past. The puddles have been puddles for a week now, and everything glimmers with water - roads, pavements, buildings, peoples' raincoats. This really isn't good weather for a date.

But if you *do* have to go for an outing, then maybe you could go to the mall - a rather mangy mall but with some nice hangout spots. Or maybe you could go a bit farther, to Eccles Lake Park, and just relax at the pagoda or something like that.

Just then, though, your phone buzzes with a message from Jeremy.

'Bad news. Ppl sprding rmr u r the rapist cos u werent ard. Crzy btches saying u r perv neways. Be careful.'

... fuck's sake...

> Roll d100.
> Also, yeah, you do have some normal clothing. She'd end up looking like a rather cute boy, you bet.

Rolled 13

>>28301056

Rolled 62

>>28301056

Rolled 4

>>28301056

Rolled 31

>>28301056
And get the doc to poke our rib a bit, make sure it's not too bad, but only if he/she will keep it between us. Mom's stessed, etc.
Voting pagoda, less people.

>>28301084
>>28301079
>>28301077
>>28301074

> 62: Ambiguity.

Since you live near the school, you're always careful when getting medical slips - just in case you run into someone. If there's a school assembly, and if there was such a serious matter as Caitlin getting assaulted...

Oh, wait. Fuck. If they investigate, they will eventually trace it right to *where you live*. You do live just upstairs of Kelvin, who actually did the deed after all. And if news of that comes through... it's not like you need any more negative rep in school, is it?

And to think just last night you were thinking about being a bit more sociable too. But then again, this is also an opening. When bad things happen, people do tend to be nicer - just for a short while. It's a bit like how you got two weeks of peace after someone hanged himself in school. People get nicer... or maybe just a bit more scared.

Considering how to exploit this, you suddenly hear something strange - it's the voice of one of the local hobos, but instead of asking for change or just nattering on, he sounds hysterical. You glance into the alley and see that he's talking to two policemen, waving and gesticulating, and there's another woman - a hobo too - with him, and there's a few people standing around watching street theatre.

'He was torn! Torn up, oh Lord! It was everywhere everywhere oh Lordy lordy what did he do why would anyone...'

> Go listen. Something bad's happened, again?
> Something bad's happened. Whoopdedoo. Go to the clinic.
> Other.

>>28301186
>> Something bad's happened. Whoopdedoo. Go to the clinic.

Also, we should look into getting a GED or this country's equivalent. No more school for us.

>>28301186
>> Go listen. Something bad's happened, again?

>>28301197

> What exactly *is* a GED? I don't think there's any equivalent where I'm from so I'm confused.

>>28301186
Who cares about the ramblings of a hobo? 50/50 odds he's making stuff up to get himself off the hook. Clinic, unless Elina seems interested in watching the show.

>>28301236
General Education Degree. Usually drop-outs and home-schooled types get it. Just shows that you've learned enough to pass high-school tests, but it's somewhat looked down on by most people/groups.

>>28301202

Seconding this. People getting torn apart sounds like another class of crime.

>>28301236
Basically it'll let you into colleges if you pass it even if you didn't finish highschool.

>>28301186
> Go listen. Something bad's happened, again?
We need to know as much as possible about what's going on so as to prove it wasn't us who assaulted the girl

Also, dinnering, be back asap.

>>28301236
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/General_Educational_Development

> Typing.

> Back.
> Also, Elina's at home. She says she doesn't like clinics.

Pausing there, you scoff at first. A hobo giving testimony to a police - and how much of that do you reckon would *not* be crazy bullshit? Besides, those guys are drunk or high half the time. You don't even know where they get their weed, but there it is, an intense smell of mown grass every time a few of them get together.

Except. Swallowing, you turn and walk a few steps closer anyway, and what you can hear soon makes your heartbeat begin to sound in your eardrums again, as images flash, unbidden, through your mind. Thump. Thuthump. Thuthump. Catherine, slouched in her chair wearing shorts and a crop top preparing for tests. Leaving house for the last time, while you watched.

Before you know it you bump into someone, who glares at you, but you just listen and watch the police and hobos as the world turns yellow and grey around you. The police normally look bored, but this time they are at their most attentive.

'So... did either of you see the attacker?'

> cont'd.

>>28301426


'It's fast! It was so fast! Oh lordy it jumped from there, down here, and then onto Chucky, like that-' he snapped his fingers. 'And then you won't believe it, it's like those people on the bath salts, it just tore at him, tore, and tore! So the blood was-'

'Yes, yes.' You can't feel your limbs now. You're not here. You've been dismembered, like Cath, what was she doing before they killed her? Was she already dead by the time they cut her up? What the fuck is this? But the words sound loud and clear. 'So you're saying, the attacker was unarmed?'

'Nothing. Nothing. Just a t-shirt and shorts, in the rain, no umbrella, nothing.' The voice trembles. You are trembling too, maybe. 'It was a small thing too, small thing, but so fast, and so *strong*. You saw it! Chucky's arm was here and his body was over there!'

The world gradually returns to you, or you to it, and you look at the distance pointed out. Ten, fifteen feet. What...

'And was that also when the...'

'YES! YES!' The guy hollers. 'I TOLD YOU MAN! I already TOLD you. It was *eating* Chucky! He was still alive! He was hollering, it had bitten off his arm that was over there, and he was like AUUGH AUUGH and we came in and it jumped off. But what you saw, all that, it chewed off. The shoulder, the arm, the legs, all those bites...'

> cont'd.

>>28301469

You sit with those words running madly through your mind, and the imagined sound of Chucky - who the fuck is Chucky, which one of them was it - screaming as his arm was bitten off. Cut off, you know all too much about it, but *bitten* off? *Torn* off?

How much strength does it take to do that? That's insane. Eventually you are called into the doctor's office, and give him such a convincing description of your fever that he says you should stay in over the weekend and come back to see if you need more attention. 'Okay,' you say.

When you get home, the hobos are gone, and the policemen. But that place - a little alley, once a safe rain shelter for the hobos - is no longer safe. It's strange how people remember so deeply all the things that never are there anymore. The more you stay somewhere, the more bloodstained it gets, doesn't it...

You get home half expecting Elina at the Funstation. But she's not there; she's not in the hall. Instead she's in your room - and staring at something making a 'tak, tak, tak'. It's your Newton's cradle, an old, old toy you've not used in years, and she's... restored it.

'Should we get changed? Let's go out?'

'Don't you want to learn how to fight?' She doesn't look back at you. Oh yeah... your revenge. Your... your plan.

> What do/say, Elina?

>>28301514
>> What do/say, Elina?
Sure, teach me how to fight.

Hey, did we get the doctor's note?

>>28301514

Might be a good idea. Especially with what is going to happen at school.

>>28301553

> Oh yes. I forgot to mention. He gives you a note, and an option to maybe come back on Monday and get another note.

>>28301514
"Oh, yeah. But, should I really be trying to do that right now? My rib isn't anywhere near healed yet... Besides, with all the rain, the park is likely to be empty right now, and I thought it might be nice to go for a walk over there, or something."

>>28301514
"Sure, how should we start?"

Now is not the time to go walking in the park on dates.

>>28301553
>>28301562
>>28301595
>>28301617

Elina is still wearing your PJ's, and as you open your closet and find some clothes that would suit her - a t-shirt that looks like it'd be a loose fit, and a pair of mid-length running pants - you agree with her. 'You may want to go a bit easy on me, though. I mean, I've still got those injured ribs, remember?'

'Huh?' She turns around this time, then nods. 'Oh. Oh yeah. I forgot. Well, let's go anyway. I'll be easy on you.'

------------

In the end you wind up taking the bus to the Lake Park anyway. Elina seems strangely nervous about going out; she asks if you have earplugs, and when you don't, she makes some out of tissue paper. 'Are you that sensitive to noise?'

'I don't like it, no...'

She has them on all the way to the bus stop, and then on the bus. Sitting beside her, you suddenly remember the strange, terrible creaking noise that emanated from her yesterday, the sound of a house being torn apart by enormous forces - every plank creaking, every nail squeaking as it is pulled away from its proper place. Today you don't hear any of that, though you catch snatches of other sounds that almost seem to come from Elina, though it makes no sense.

A sound like dripping water; sounds like ticking clocks, or ticking gears, little liquid creaks and slurps, as if the sound of her body at work is being somehow broadcast. She... she really is weird, this girl out of nowhere.

When you put your hand around her shoulder, though, she shrugs you off, and then turns to you with bright, hard eyes. Amber in the glow of sunlight. 'You know what is the most important thing when fighting, Stan?'

Somehow she manages to whisper, even when she can't hear anything.

> Speed.
> Strength to deal damage.
> Toughness.
> Mental presence.
> Other.

>>28301711
>> Speed.

>>28301711
>Other
Winning?

>>28301711
Speed.

Mental presence doesn't sound bad either, though.

>>28301711
>speed
strength is meaningless is you're to quick to hit, and being weaker doesn't matter if you can deliver the final blow before they can react

>>28301776
>>28301760
>>28301752

'Wait, I thought you would be telling me-'

'Just answer.'

You think it over, and the first thing that comes to mind is speed. Moving fast - not being hit - that's the most important thing after all, isn't it? So long as they can't hit you, then whenever you hit them, you can consider that a win. 'Being fast? Speed?'

'That's important, I suppose,' Elina nods.

'Huh. So it's not it, then?' You lean a little just to smell her, quite certain that she's noticed. 'So... what is it? Alertness?'

'I think you're alert enough,' she says. 'If you're trying to fight people who are hunting you, you'll be alert naturally.'

'Right. Okay, I got it. The most important thing in a fight is winning.' That's a bit of a silly answer, sure, but it makes sense, doesn't it? Gerald fights you because he knows you won't fight back. So he'll always win. But if you punch him back, then... wait, if you'll punch him back, Andrew and the others will do you in, wouldn't they? 'You're trying to tell me it's just winning, isn't it? So long as I beat them, that's the most important thing, and of course that's the whole point, right? If that bunch of-'

'Stop.' Elina turns, smiling at what is already becoming a little ritual.

> cont'd.

>>28301896

Obediently, you stop, and grin as well to wait for her to say something, but Elina reaches to take out her earplugs. With each one she winces a little, rubbing her ears and shuddering. 'It's so noisy...'

'Oi, tell me. Don't keep it like that.'

'The most important thing in a fight, Stan, is hate.' She pronounces the last word with extra weight, dragging the a a little and then dropping it deeply, leaving out the t at the end as usual. Is that how her language is?

Also, what? 'Hate?'

'Yes. Hate. The only thing you have that is stronger than them, Stan, is hate. People who hit and abuse others don't hate, you see. They are scared. There's something in the night in them. If they sit still, if they are quiet, if they don't make someone else scared, then they are scared alone.'

Words bubble up in your mind - or attempt to bubble - attempt to form a reply. But nothing comes up that even allows you to babble. Just a gentle voice that soon finds its way to your tongue. 'That... makes sense.'

'But if you are hit by people, you fear, *and* you hate. You know why they always attack you? Because they know you hate them. They must make you more scared of them. So they keep making you hurt. They call you freak. They crack your ribs. They kick and beat you. Because if they stop, they know you will come back for them.'

'You're saying...'

'I want you to hate me today, Stan,' Elina, this lovely girl for whom you... you don't know what it is, says that slowly. 'You must hate me. And then you fight me. Okay?'

> ... Sure.
> Maybe I'll try to hate, like, a tree instead?
> Other.

>>28301965
>> Other.
"How can I do that? I can't just click a switch and hate somebody! It's not like you've been beating me up for years..."

>>28301965
> Other
"I don't think I'd like myself much if I found out I could hate someone like you. That's not the kind of person I want to be, you know? Maybe I'll just pretend that you're someone else, one of the people I do hate."

>>28301965

> ... Sure.

>>28302056

This. Let's just say she's Gerald and fight her.

>>28302000
>>28302056
>>28302067
>>28302088

For a long time you say nothing; even when you reach the place, you just gesture, and Elina nods and leads the way out. She does allow you to lead, asking you if there's any place where you can be quiet and alone.

Thankfully, what with the drizzle coming back on, there's hardly anyone in the park. Those who are, are all clustered around the pagoda and pavilions, or around the big classical mansion which is now a sort of visitor's centre and cafe. Trudging through puddles in the rain, you try to imagine Elina being hateful. But her smile, if and when it happens. Her crazy giggle fits when playing Bish Bash Bosh. Her willingness to be your... friend, perhaps? Could you even dare ask for more?

'Elina?'

'Hmm.' She nods, coming up beside you. 'You're thinking.'

'I... I can't hate you.'

'You have to.'

'But I can't. I can't! And if I *can*, then what does that make me? I mean, if I can just flick on some sort of switch and say, okay, I hate Elina now, then what does that make me? I'd become some sort of a monster, won't I?'

You notice that when you say monster, Elina shudders violently. And then, when she looks up at you again, it's with a glare.

'But if you don't, then you're just some little shit. Aren't you?'

'What?'

'You're going to always be a little shit, then,' she repeats. You glance around you to see you're in a little field, the grass rich and green and strewn with puddles. You splash in one, turning to look at her. 'You're always at the bottom of the food chain. Like a maggot.'

> Try to control your anger. (Roll d100)
> She's- attack her.
> Other.

>>28302200
>> She's- attack her.
When she puts it like that, when she reminds us of our tormentors... We can hate her.

Rolled 83

>>28302200
"Maggots might not be caterpillars, but they still learn to fly, right? I'll be saving my hate for those who deserve it. Now, we doing this fighting ghing or not?"

>>28302221

Second this one, we fight her.

>>28301711
>you open your closet and find some clothes that would suit her - a t-shirt that looks like it'd be a loose fit, and a pair of mid-length running pants
No underwear for the lady?

>>28302240
go with this, we'll fight her maybe even picture those we hate. but never her

>>28302501

> Sorry. Connection borked.
> One or two posts before I sleep, but I'll type asap.

>>28302221
>>28302240
>>28302244
>>28302501

> 83: Success!

Your fists clench, and for a few moments you see the little figure before you seem to morph, to shift - to become someone else you used to know and fear. Gerald is the leader of the group, but sometimes you think it's really Andrew that comes up with the ideas. He doesn't talk much, but he does call you a shit now and then.

Andrew is in front of you. Not Elina, Andrew. He's there, always standing in a ready stance, and when he talks he talks in your face with his hands. That little fucker. That little *cunt*. You hate him, you-

You take one deep breath, and then another, and a third one. And then when you open your eyes again, it's Elina, frowning. 'What...'

'So I'm a maggot,' you say. 'But that doesn't matter. I'll be saving my-'

It's a bad thing you left your mouth open, because suddenly there is a stinging pain in your face, and then your mouth is half filled with muddy rainwater. Lifting your face, you feel the cold water run down your features, and suddenly a powerful, hideously painful kick slams into your side, making you curl up involuntarily.

You catch a glimpse of Elina, cracking her knuckles. Her eyes seem to glow with rage. She mutters something probably in Swedish, and then advances on you.

> What do, Stan? God, she looks like she's about to tear someone limb from limb.

>>28302565

Shit. Get up as quickly as possible, retreat.

>>28302565
Time to put up or shut up, use what we've learned from constant assault and hold our ground

>>28302565

Fight back. See if you can get Andrew in mind again.

>>28302565
>Get up and fight, Elina dragged us out here to fight so might as well defend ourselves
"So that's it, hit me until I hate you and fight back!? Them I hate, all the pain and torment they've caused me I can't hate them enough... I'll fight you, but never hate..."

>>28302565
Fight back, but stay on the defensive

>>28302565
Fight, on the defensive until we're on our fear and ready, then picture her as Andrew again and go offensive.

>>28302737
>>28302711
>>28302651
>>28302746
>>28302774

Fuck. That was a *hard* kick; all your abdominal muscles are telling you to curl up and let the back take the strain. But you fight that instinct and stumble to your feet, though they are unsteady. Elina- no, it's Andrew, it's Andrew - stops in front of you.

She talks, though, in that quiet, lilting voice, and the illusion breaks. 'You won't squeal, will you?'

You feel as if she has slapped you with that sentence. Squeal like a pig - that was one of the instructions people had for you. They'd hold you in a slipper hold and tell you to do it or pass out. So you did it. You squealed, you shrieked, like a fat slobbering pig getting chased into a mincing machine. Not a human, you fucking swine.

Elina follows it up with another slap that makes your whole jaw go momentarily numb, and makes you fall on your knees. 'Kneeling again, eh?' You barely manage to fend off the foot that comes at you, small but with incredible speed, making you roll over on your back.

Feet again. That stare. She's beautiful. She's hideous. He's hideous. No, no... 'I don't hate you, I can't hate you-' The punch lands right where your ribs are, and you roar as white spots tear across your field of vision and fall to your knees. Then a slap that sends you sprawling.

'Come *on*, you maggot!'

'I hate you!' You say, though you mean it more as surrender. If you can *say* you hate her, she'll let you off. Right? It's like letting them dunk you in the toilet. Just let them have their fun. Just let them have what they want. With Elina, just as with them, you can't stand a chance. But when you say it again, the rage in it surprises even you. 'I hate you. I hate you! I hate you, Andrew!'

> cont'd.

>>28302795

For a moment there is a reprieve, and your mind finally manages to make a few observations. Elina - how is she so *fast*? How does she manage to hit so *hard*? That little palm, those long, skinny fingers. Those legs which were entwined with yours like little sticks just a few hours ago. Now your whole body is quaking with pain from them.

See? You're right. Just do what she wants. You stagger to your feet and raise your fists in a defensive pose. She wants that, right? Oh yes. 'I hate you, Andrew,' you mutter. With more feeling, Stan, you fucking retard! 'I *hate* you! You little dick, you little cunt!'

Elina cracks her knuckles again, the sound itself making you shiver. You just about recover enough to feel the raindrops on your head and skin when she says something you don't understand. 'Yoy inter Andrew. Yoy Elina.'

'W-what?' Oh god it's comi- you block one slap, but then another one comes almost immediately, slamming into your forehead. Then a balled up fist which comes down like a hammer on your shoulder, making your entire right arm suddenly call in sick. 'I said, I hate-'

'Hate me, then!' The voice is not her yelling voice, but it's *worse* - deep, cold, almost like three people are talking at the same time. Her foot comes at you, and you manage to push it off, just. She's going to *kill* you at this rate, Stan, as another fist makes you lie back and realise it's not water but blood gushing down to your lip. She's not stopping!

> Roll d100.
> What do you hate about Elina? Your suggestions will lead to bonuses.

>>28302845

> Alternatively, if you can remember other ways in which you've been bullied, and why you hate those people, there'll be bonuses as well.

Rolled 13

>>28302845

She knows she's stronger than us and she's just trying to flaunt it. She says she wants to train us but she's not doing that.

Rolled 91

>>28302845

>>28302845

She treats you like some pet, or pity case. She's beating the shit out of you because you're weak, just like they do. Because of her everyone at school is going to think you're some kind of monster.

T

>>28302933
>>28302909
>>28302894

> 91 + 20: Critical success.
> Hate Snap: Achieved.

> Last post for now. I'll continue this tomorrow.
> Thank you all for playing.

Another kick, this time a light but painful one on your back, rolls you over on the wet grass directly into a puddle, the water sloshing and soaking right to your skin, and you lie there, trying again to resist the urge to just die or start crying. Why is Elina doing this to you?

She said she wanted to help you. You took her help because she treated you as a friend, as a human - someone to exchange gifts with, play games with, to look for in times of trouble. You took her in and squeezed with her on your bed, didn't you? You wanted her to be comfy. And now it turns out she cares for you in the way a person cares for a dog.

Clambering to your knees and elbows, you turn and wipe your face to look at her, standing there, shaking her head slightly. 'Do you really think,' you pant, 'I'm some kind of pet?'

Silence.

'You think I'll die without you, don't you?' On your feet now, and Elina doesn't even bother to hit you. She just pushes you lightly here, there, almost making you lose your balance but not quite. Every cell in your body wants you to run, but your brain is overriding them all. 'I'll tell you, I haven't died. I'm still not fucking dead!'

And, after all the beating, it's a shrug from her that does it. She shrugs. That's all she's got for you?

You charge at her, pushing as much sound as you can from burning lungs.

> cont'd.

>>28303031

Closing the two or three paces between the two of you, you lunge and swing at her, balling your fists. She blocks the first, and the second, and then your third connects, flailing into her side.

'Raaargh!' You pummel her again, in the chest, and then use the momentum to swing your right arm in another wide arc, a little higher. With both hands holding your fist against her chest, she has nothing to block you with as your hardest ever punch smashes directly into her cheekbone, sending a jolt of pain up your own arm as well.

Elina almost doesn't make a noise as she reels. She's strong, but she's small. You'll beat her properly, you'll show her what you're like, you'll- she slaps you again but this time it barely registers, the whole world now fading into a panoply of shades of pink and red. You lower your head and charge, grabbing both her hands as you barrel straight into her under her small breasts.

> cont'd.

>>28303104


Momentarily your face is under water, then you rise up and swat her flailing limbs. Is she flailing more slowly now? You don't care. Deliberately, you use your knees on her, resting your whole weight on her thigh, then her crotch, and then both knees on her belly for a while before you straddle her. Her arms are still resisting, punching and slapping, but you hold both of them with your left hand and aim at her defenceless face.

WHAP.

Fuck you, Elina!

WHAP!

Fuck you! Fuck them too!

WHAP! WHAP!

Then, all of a sudden, something pierces the red and deflates it entirely. Laughter. Warm, gurgling laughter, like the fit of giggles she had dodging virtual pies. Your hand was raised for a fifth slap, and when all the red has drained you realise plenty still remains. Elina is bleeding from the nose as well now, and her lip is busted, trailing down her face into the water.

Her hands slip from your grasp and fall, limp, beside her, while she laughs. Your blood drips onto her t-shirt - your t-shirt. 'W-what?'

'That's it, Stan!' She looks up at you, smiling with split lips, then lifts a hand to wipe your nose. 'See? You hated me.' Her thumb moves again, gentle again this time round. 'And you won.'

You... you did. You hated her. You hated this vile, patronising girl. Hated. Hated... as for winning, you don't know...

> How do you react to your snap, Stan?

>>28303115
Surprise/sadness. We flicked a switch just like we said, and we were able to hate her. What does that make us? What does the adrenaline and elation coursing though us make us?

>>28303142
This, with a little fear
Not flipping out or anything, just sad

>>28303031
>>28303104
>>28303115
Satisfaction that we finally fought back, horror at what we did to Elina.

>>28303115

I think maybe we should give Elina a hug. And apologise for temporarily becoming a monster.