Part 7 - Day Two, 00:00 to 06:00

<trumpet fanfare>

Good morning, you disgusting maggots!

I am so proud of how you fought tonight in the group zone. How many deaths? Four was it? Where's my list?

<pause, rustling of paper>

To be honest, I'd expected more of you bearing in mind the carnage of earlier on in the day. But I've only got myself to blame, I did say minimum three deaths, and I suppose you've made that quota. But don't think for a second I haven't got something extra special planned for next time.

Special being the operative word.

Right, buying the farm in the last six hours were:

Students 17 and 7 Gordon Marx and Lora Cruz, chopped into chunky dog food by my beloved little pet transfer and star student Delilah Haddington, who's got a lot on her mind at the minute. Chin up Delilah! Just think of the horrible things you're going to be able to do to Sylvain, just when he's least expecting it. After all, he's earned that much from you, hasn't he, putting himself where he wasn't wanted?

And yes, student number 1, miss goody-goody two shoes Reiko Abe. What a noble gesture, frying her face off to save her friends. How selfless! How pointless!

And finally, one of the queer freaks have gone. And no, I'm not talking about Natsume or Lee-soo, though if you carry on this way, you two, I'm going to activate your collars. I don't want to see your disgusting, sick, perverse sodomy live on prime time!

No, I'm talking about student 5, Leon Courtney. Why, Paul, whatever will you do without him? You'll have to wank yourself off now, all on your own with no help. Anyway, Leon was picked off by... my star student, my clever little baby, Ms D Haddington. Well done Delilah! Three more notches on the side of your cleaver. You are the spirit of a Good Model Citizen!

So, the rest of you, listen up - and there's not many to listen now anyway. Watch out for Delilah, and Paul - though they have a score to settle with each other. I'd stay out of their way if I were you.

Danger Zones this period:

G1, G2, G3. H1, H2, H3. I1, I2, I3. J1, J2, J3. G6. H8. H9. E8.

No group zone, so, if you dare, find a hidey-hole and get your heads down. You must be exhausted from all the killing and maiming, and, after all, this period of the night is when we get the least ratings, so it doesn't matter if nothing much happens.

Sleep well! Sweet dreams!

<click>

Kyo hugged Park tightly as he heard Harvey's voice echoing through the deserted streets once more. His heart constricted in his chest when he heard both what that insane transfer had been up to repeated once more with their principal's typical glee and his downright offensive description of what, at least for him, had been the one good experience to come out of this nightmare.

Despite telling himself to be strong he couldn't help, but let a few furious, frustrated tears escape before he swiped them away.

"You okay?" He whispered softly in the darkness.

Delilah stepped forward to admire her handiwork, first checking the coast was clear, before she turned her attention on the bodies of her slain opponents.

Such vivid colours...such a pretty picture; it warmed her heart.

She leant over and prised the colt from Leon's fingers, before tucking it into the waistband of her skirt for safe-keeping.

"Darling..." She had closed her fingers around Sylvain's wrist and dragged him towards Reiko and Leon and now slipped her slender arm round his overly thin waist.

Harvey's voice interrupted her satisfied ramblings and she raised her face to the sky. "Mmmh....I'm the model student...how..." With a faint smile her sparkling cyan eyes returned to Sylvain. "Are you proud of me darling...why yes of course."

With another violent, wrenching cough Devon raising his shaking arm and gestured obscenely towards wherever he thought Harvey was lurking.

"F-f**kin' bastard...."

Before he could say any more his voice choked and he curled up again on the sodden grass, moaning weakly. He was useless and pathetic....no use to Jen as he had been no use to Reiko.

Keeping her wits about her, Hannelore knew for sure that Delilah and Sylvain (and, looking at the body and its long black hair, she was pretty sure it was Leon) would now be hunted down by Paul. Good, she thought to herself, with any luck they'll take each other out and that'll be three fewer I have to take care of.

Right then, the radio crackled on. OK, so it was Leon. But was all that shit Harvey was spouting really necessary?

At the same time, Hannelore's PDA vibrated. Another message? She retreated down the back of the moat to a spot where she hoped she could get a little privacy. Ami and Hans were too busy listening to Harvey, so she had a moment. She read what came on the screen, and deleted it. Now, she needed to speak to Jennifer. Coming back up the mound, she crawled towards the Swede, hands behind her head as much as she could to show her she had no hostile intentions.

"Jen? Y'know... I know where we can get you something useful. I know where to find Semtex. But you're going to have to give me something in return. And I think we ought to find Devon a chemist or something. Can you see how much he's suffering? At this rate, he'll be dead by dawn."

Park couldn't help but hear the watery, upset tone of his koi's voice, and held him tightly in the dark, the events on the TV unfolding before them both seeming far less important than his lover's state of mind.

"I'm OK... I mean, being with you, like this, I feel..." He tried to articulate his emotional state, but it was so complex he gave up, and shrugged, "Kind of... comforted, even if I can't get what happened earlier out of my head right now..." and he shivered, enfolding his warm, velvet-skinned lover tighter in his arms.

"But are you OK? Please don't cry... if you're worrying about what Harvey said, then don't. I'm sure it was just an idle threat, just something nasty to say for the fun of it. As for being sick, perverted, whatever the f**k was it he said - well, don't take any notice of that, either. I love you, and love makes everything all right. We've got a right to do what we do, it doesn't matter what gender we are and don't you EVER let any bigoted, narrow-minded asshole tell you otherwise. If you love someone, you love them regardless of anything else..."

"Nothing else matters in this whole damn world," he finished quietly, "And you've shown me that. When I die, I'll die happy... for the first time in my life, I'm truly whole, truly happy, and all because of you..."

His voice trailed away as Kyo turned off the TV, the pair of them blocking out the world in their kiss as if nothing else existed but each other, warm and, for a solitary moment, safe.

Sylvain jumped at the touch of the crazy girl's arm around him. It was not a very comfortable feeling, particularly as he knew she regarded him merely as a possession... not even a love toy, he wasn't even that high a prize to her. Just a lump of flesh and blood to use as and how she wanted.

He hung his head, and let some exhausted tears of terror, resentment and regret fall down his milk-white face, crying partly for Reiko's bravery... but mainly for himself, and the situation he had gotten himself into. He stared blankly into her sparkling, bloodlust-drunk eyes, his own pale blue eyes overflowing silvery tears, and realised he didn't care about his life so much any more. Perhaps it would be better to let her kill him now.

The heat of the crackling fire, out of control now and spreading through the abandoned farm house, cut through the chill of the night, lending his pallor a strange orange glow like sodium streetlights on the night sky.

He said tiredly, his French accent even more pronounced than usual as it was when he was under great stress, "What do you want from me, Delilah? If you're going to kill me, kill me now. I'm no use to you. J'en ai marre de ce merde.* You never wanted me anyway, did you? Kill me, let me go or love me - c'est ton choix. **"

<Trans:
* "I'm sick to the back teeth of this shit."
** "It's your choice.">

Park's honest reply only made Kyo want to cry even harder, for all the time they'd lost and all the experiences they could've had together if only it hadn't been for his own crippling shyness and insecurities and Park's lack of action. But, for now he just sat back and watched his love through the almost complete darkness. Only the wan illumination from un-known sources outside painting their drawn faces with pale slivers of light.

"W-what do we do now?" He whispered, unsure of why he felt the need to stay so quiet. Afterall they knew exactly where the remaining players---their friends...at least some of them, were.

Still, despite how sheltered and almost calm he felt wrapped up in Park's arms Kyo couldn't shake the niggling concern that they should be doing something to help Reiko's former group.

Model student as she was Delilah understood Sylvain perfectly and in an instant the elated expression disappeared from her face as if it had been wiped away with a cloth.

"No use to me?" She asked in return, her tone incredulous and as close to disbelief as the girl was capable. Her hand tightened around his waist and she lowered the uzi, before stuffing it into her bag.

"No use to me?? Darling YOU are what I'm playing for."

She sighed, closing her steely eyes for a brief moment of repose, "That's it isn't it....hm? You just don't like me now...it was those demons in your head before they told you I was...*sigh* I'd choose to love you, but...."

Turning away she let him slip from her grasp and like a condemned woman began to walk away. No matter the sickness in her heart Delilah was still capable of affection, even if it was only her own twisted, sickening brand and Sylvain had just about managed to break her heart, fracturing it almost as much as her ruined psyche.

The Korean sighed, and involuntarily lifted his fingers to press on his raw, sore eyelids, heavy with lack of sleep. Even though they were currently safe, and should be trying to catch up on some rest, otherwise they'd only be half-aware and staggering around later in sheer exhaustion, he knew how Kyo's mind worked, and how he clearly felt guilty that they were in hiding and not helping any of their friends.

For his own part, he had been worrying about Devon since he saw the Canadian's condition. He only hoped that Devon could get some medicine before the next Group Zone, because in truth, he didn't believe his friend would live much longer if he didn't... if he was even still alive by now, that is.

"I... don't know, Bukiyo," he eventually answered slowly. "I'm just following what you want to do. Personally, I think for the next few hours we would be better off trying to catch some sleep while we can, otherwise by the time we get to the next Group Zone, we won't be fit for anything whatsoever."

And he sighed again, even more heavily, his mind reeling with fatigue. "If you want, we could get a few hours here, then put on the TV and find out where the others are going... if you wanted to help them in some way. Whatever makes you happy, OK?"

"I know you're not happy just hiding like this, that you want to do something... even if it puts us both in danger, I'll be right by your side to protect you. You know that."

Sylvain was completely taken aback by what had just taken place. Was he to understand that somewhere underneath that ice-cold exterior and crazed interior, in the furthest reaches of her soul, the girl actually had some real, proper emotions? For all the world, it almost looked to him as though he had... hurt her in some way. He was reeling in complete shock. Was this a trick? Was it for real?

He was having real problems comprehending this situation. After all, he had done... unspeakable things to her, and she hadn't chosen to kill him then...? He had imagined that she would never let him walk away safe... that she would rather murder him before she would let him go, just as she had done to Gordon and Lora.

He made a snap decision there and then. If it cost him his life, so be it. He wouldn't survive this game long with or without her, anyway, so it made no odds to him how he was going to die. Even if he and Delilah were the last ones left alive, he thought seriously she would probably do away with him.

"D-delilah? Please don't go... I'm sorry," he called out uncertainly, his big blue eyes full of confusion and hot tears, and saw her stop briefly, although she did not turn around. "I was scared... I thought you didn't like me. I don't want you to go. Please. It's just... if I had a weapon, I might be able to defend you. I feel guilty because I can't do anything to help you, all I do is hide behind you. I feel useless to you."

Eventually, he took a deep breath, summoning up any feeble vestiges of courage he might possess somewhere down in his cowardly soul. "I... I really, really like you. I really do. I'm sorry I misunderstood everything. I want to be with you. Please, Delilah, please don't go."

And yet he had the faint notion that he may just have signed his own death warrant... but even so, he was OK with that now. There was no point to his life any longer anyway, and it was true: as f**ked up damaged psychotic as they both were, the pain he had felt when she walked away was sincere, and he was slowly realising that despite her scary behaviour, he was probably falling in love with her... and he didn't care so much if he died at her hands.

Ami marked off the zones on her map then packed it away. It was stupid just staying where they were, she knew that, but she couldn't tell them anything.
1. it would probably hurt her jaw too much, and
2. they'd probably kill her.
She closed her eyes and thought of the people who had died, her friends. The worst part was when Rei had died she was angry with her. 'I betraid them all, and I betraid my code, and I...I' she opened her eyes and looked up at the sky. 'I want people to watch me die. I don't want to die yet. I... I will wait.' she thought a strange, painful smile spreading across her injured face. 'I want viewers' Keeping her thoughts to herself she watched Hannelore buttering up to Jennifer the whole time, and sent a concerned glance to Devon. She sighed readying herself for her own death.

Kyo smiled faintly and settled down in his love's arms. No matter what random plan he came up with Park always seemed to understand perfectly. It was as if words weren't even needed between them sometimes.

"You're right...of course..I just, I thought maybe you might want to see Devon again. Reiko kind of made it difficult for us last time." His pale face was marred slightly at her name, by a flash of sadness, but it passed.

"For now.." He muttered, but the sentance remained un-finished as Kyo lost the fight with sleep and closed his eyes, sagging against Park.

Slowly Delilah turned, her face cloaked in ethereal moon-light and the last vestiges of her fleeting tears trailing like pale ribbons over her cheeks.

"...darling..?" She whispered longingly. The corners of her lips twisted up into a genuine smile of relief. If he hadn't called her back she would have nothing...nothing, but darkness and death. Not even a girl such as her could survive on slaughter alone.

Forgetting where they were she ran back to him and flung her arms around his waist. "You DO care! Oh...Sylvain."

Despite her feverish delusions and murderous urges for a moment all she felt was pure joy and when she leant over and kissed Sylvain lightly she knew; even if he was to die by her hand she would follow him into hell.

Devon managed to sit up, un-aided. It seemed between Hannelore and Jennifer's little conferance and the aching void Reiko and Ryu had left behind he'd been all but forgotten.

With a frustrated sigh he staggered to his feet and retrieved his bag and board. He was weak as a kitten, but an ingrained talent would still allow him to skateboard back to town and at least not see out his last few hours in the middle of nowhere.

He smiled at Ami, unable to really hate anyone for what they were doing. And from the pathetic way she handled herself he could tell somehow she hadn't kiled Ryuji...just a feeling, but...still...

"You coming with me girls? I'm famished and anythin's better than hanging out in the cold n'dark hm?" He grinned, trying to keep up a light, breezy tone even while his guts ached and he felt like throwing up.

Hannelore turned round sharply.

"Devon?" she exclaimed teutonically, taking the risk that Hans wouldn't shoot her down, Ami wouldn't lunge at her throat and try to rip it out with her teeth, and that Jen would actually trust her.

"How are you doing? I don't know if you know what's been going on here... I was about to pick you up and carry you down to my vehicle. You need some medication, don't you? And then I think we should all find somewhere comfortable to sleep, like a house or even that hotel in the town centre. Yes, that looks quite nice, the white one with the writing on it?"

"We all need some sleep. I've got a LandRover, I can probably drive it now that my foot's recovered a bit, we can stop at the chemist's for you and then sleep..."

She turned to Jen. "If you still don't trust me, and I don't blame you if you don't, have Hans guard me and you can guard Ami. We can take turns to sleep."

With that, Hannelore got up, climbed over the back walls of the fort and headed for the LandRover. "Anyone coming?" she asked, looking conspiratorially at Jen.

Ami smiled back at Devon, then closed her eyes and slowly stood up. Opening them again she looked around the group. She lowered her head so that she stared meekly at the ground. Listening to Hennelore and noticing the look she gave Jen made Ami shudder. But if this was where everyone was going, she didn't have much choice. She would follow them, because they were the only ones who could keep her alive long enough for hr wish to be forfilled. If they chose to she could survive the night until the ratings picked up. But she wouldn't sleep, nomatter how much her body needed it, she wouldn't sleep. Anything could happen while she slept, and her trust in others had been broken once again by a friend.

Mingled relief and confusion coursed through the skinny French blond like a tidal wave, tightly embraced by the girl he'd come to love and fear in equal measures. His mind had felt wonderfully clear and lucid when she had accepted his apology... and when he had accepted his own fate; almost as though it had taken that moment of taking his own death on board and no longer fearing it to wipe away any last traces of doubt. Even his own mental illness was at last tuned down to a quieter frequency, for a few moments at the very least.

"D-d-delilah... I love you," he muttered, squeezing his tear-filled cyan eyes closed momentarily, clinging to her lissome body like a drowning man, his knees buckling. When he finally got up the courage to open his eyes again, he stared at her feline face, the flames of the burning farm house dancing in the twin pools of her dark gaze as though he was looking down into the very pits of hell... and that was a strangely erotic sensation, as though she would burn him if he got too close to the core of her.

Behind them, still lying not far from them and as yet untouched by the fire which was catching light to the drier patches of grass, were the twin entangled corpses of Rei and Leon, in their first and last ever embrace, their bloody and burned faces and glassy eyes making them look like a pair of discarded ragdolls rather than anything that had ever once lived and breathed... and in Sylvain's mind, Leon's corpse in particular embodied their impending and inevitable deaths, because he had no doubt that Paul Courtney would chase them in life or in death to exact his revenge for the murder of his brother.

At the touch of Delilah's soft but oddly cold lips against his, he could no longer resist his own deepest hungering for her - the same dark lust that had driven him to rape her in the terrifying psychotic episode he had experienced only hours before. But this time he just knew that the longings were entirely mutual: in fact, her highly emotional state, after committing several horrific murders, drove her to pull him down with her into the blazing farm courtyard, the heat of the fire warming their exposed flesh as they desperately tore at each others' clothes and made love in the threatening inferno.

And at the moment of her ecstasy, she sank her razor sharp teeth into the milky flesh at the base of his neck. Sylvain, in his dreaming state of desire, wondered if he had fallen in love with the Devil herself... and no longer cared if that was the truth or just a dream.

A little way across town, Paul was running. His usually swift, slender legs which had earned him many medals on the track now felt as though they were bags of jelly. His shaking muscles refused to cooperate with the signals Paul's brain were trying to send. Instead his knee conspired to give out, sending him sprawling across the cold pavement.

His bag laded ineffectually in a nearby hedge, the chainsaw scaped along a few inches in front of his head. Paul curled himself into a foetal position and lay silently on the kerb. He was physically and emotionally exhausted.

He hadn't known whether to scream or cry and so he had done neither. Instead he silently pictured Leon dying, over and over in his mind's eye. It had reminded Paul of his father. He too had been shot right in front of him and Paul had felt the same helplessness. Although then he had been only a child, this time he could have, no should have done something to save his brother.

Over and over he saw it. Leon's lifeless body drop, a mirror image of his father's death. The whole thing brought back memories. Memories that had long since been buried. Painful memories, other long-buried memories climbed foggily upwards also. Memories of being trapped, suffocation and.....something else?

Deep in thought, Paul was suddenly surprised by the sound of giggling. What kind of insensitive bastard could be laughing at me now? he thought to himself "SHUT THE F*CK UP!!" he yelled.

As the laughter abruptly ceased, Paul realised the japester was none other than himself.

Violently shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts, he pulled himself up from the pavement.

Devon shot Hans a warning look. He was still wary of Hannelore and even, to a lesser degree of Ami. There was something about the statuesque blonde that had always rubbed him up the wrong way. Hell, they were similar in a lot of ways; afterall he didn't know anyone barr himself, Hannelore and Park who enjoyed flaunting their sexuality more only she appeared to have far more expensive tastes than his own.

Despite his all encompassing compassion towards the other students now that their situation had so drastically changed he wasn't just about to hand over his fate entirely to her however.

"Alright, but you better not f**k with us Hanne'. I mean that." He replied with a quiet determination and picked up his board once more, never taking his eyes off her retreating back.

The grim determination still set on his paled face he followed her and got into the passenger seat just in case she tried anything funny.

Only when the flames began to pose an actual threat did Delilah rouse from her almost catatonic state. Her whole body hummed with a post-coital warmth and it heartened her further to see how blissfully happy her darling looked.

With gentle fingers and tender words she drew him from his own slumber and quietly they dressed. A calm after the storm.

For now she had no plans beyond protecting what was rightfully hers. Even the other brother, whatever his insignificant name was had been forgotten in the heat of their passions and still she saw him as little threat. A child driven by base motives such as revenge was only going to strike blindly at her when he chose his moment.

"You're bleeding love.." She whispered once they were on their feet. The skin of her arms goosepimpled, thought not from the cold and her eyes lit up as she enfolded him in her arms briefly, licking away the last vestiges of where she'd marked him.

"Come on..." Before the urge overcame her once more she entwined her fingers with his own and began leading him back towards town.

Hannelore climbed into the Land Rover and waited. She was pretty sure Jen would come along, and probably Ami out of dog-like commitment, maybe even Devon, but Hans was an unknown quantity. Even at the Institute, her compatriot had been more of the silent type, seemingly unruffled at any of the myriad of incidents which had taken place there. But he must have a weak spot, surely...?

She needed to take control of this little group. Her mission had to be successful – not least for her own survival. But she also had plans... oh yes. She had dreamt nightly over the last months of exactly how she would mutilate and torture that little gnome Harvey once this whole thing was over.

To her surprise, Devon was the first to get into the Land Rover. He climbed into the passenger seat, staring at Hannelore, as if he expected her to say something. She knew what he was waiting for – an explanation.

“Devon... it’s not what you’re thinking. It’s really not. I can’t explain what happened... Please don’t ask me to, it’s too painful. All we need to do right now is get you some medicine, and find somewhere to sleep. All the recriminations, the witch hunts, can come later, if need be. But in all our interests right now, we’ve got to rest. I have a sneaky suspicion what’s coming next... and it’s not good.”

Devon snorted, and repeated his statement from earlier. “You’d better not f*ck with us, Hanne...”

“I won’t. You’re going to have to trust me. I know that might be a bit difficult, but you must. For all our sakes.”

She turned round to see Jen, Hans and Ami climb into the back, squirming as they tried to get comfortable on the bench seating. So, they were in too? Hannelore started up the 4x4 and uncomfortably crunched the gears. “SHIT! Ami, how the f*ck do you drive this thing? It’s like a f*cking tank...” Fighting with the stick, she engaged first gear and gently rolled off. Bouncing over rough ground, she drove the jalopy east over the fields towards the main road before realising it was going to be enormously difficult to drive out of there because of the Danger Zones Harvey had put in place... eventually, by means of driving through some gardens and depots, she made it back onto the main road, coursing along the A4 to Phelps Parade where she reckoned there must be a Boots or something. Indeed there was, and as she played dodge-the-pillar through the rundown pedestrian area, she could see the others getting a little... agitated... at her uncontrolled driving skills.

“Devon... I think I can break in here – come with me and we’ll find what you need. Jen, Ami, Hans – I don’t think there’s much chance of Paul or Delilah running into us up here so quickly, but stand guard, OK? And if you don’t want to take orders from me, well, do it for yourselves.”

Finding a loose brick in a garden by the shops, she chucked it with all her might through the plate glass window of the pharmacy. It shattered easily, and Devon followed Hannelore through it. They worked their way to the back of the store and up the stairs to where the medicines were stored, fortunately not locked in secure cabinets.

“Devon – tell me what you need and we’ll both look for it.” Devon ran off a list of drugs with long-sounding names, and the pair started foraging for the required tablets. Simultaneously Hannelore was also looking for a couple of items, and during the search surreptitiously pocketed a handful of syringes and various vials of clear liquid.

“Diptotrezomathepine? Is that what you were looking for Dev?”

Devon nodded, and indicated that that was the last one on the list. They returned to the Land Rover where the others were nonchalantly sprawled out in the back, looking inordinately tired and bored.

Hannelore started up the engine again and drove the few hundred yards down the hill to the Lansdowne Strand Hotel. Breaking a back window with a sign she found outside, and parking the car in the rear car-park which was formerly a storage building, the group climbed in and made their way to the bedrooms.

“Jen – I’m quite happy for you to openly declare you don’t trust me, seeing you seem to be in charge of this operation. So look, I know you don’t, you know you don’t. So how about you guard Ami, and Hans guards me, and Devon gets his own room? That way we can all get some sleep, and we sleep easy.”

Jen nodded, and allocated three rooms on the same rear-facing corridor to the groupings. Hannelore and Hans’s was a twin, as was Ami and Jen’s – Devon got a four poster bedded room to himself, much to his delight.

“Right then – I guess we’ll be surfacing when Harvey makes his 6 am oratorial address... so about five hours sleep. Good night...”

While his koi slept fitfully, restlessly and relentlessly shuffling in the darkness, Park sat up, unable to sleep, awake and alone, lost in thought for a long, long time. He gazed out of the window, the bright orange glare of the sodium lights reminding him in a strange way of how the fire from the flaming farm house had lit up the clear black sky just a few hours before... when Reiko had given up her life to try and save her friends.

He knew that what they were about to do was sheer lunacy; at best, they would become part of Rei's old group and then be in a position where they would be in almost continual danger: under threat from the transfer and Paul Courtney, and unable to protect themselves, let alone each other. At worst, the group would reject them, maybe even shoot them on sight fearing that they were some kind of threat to their existing setup.

Either way, Park had a bad feeling about this whole idea. He sighed, gazing down at his beautiful lover whose soft, slow breathing indicated that at last he was in deep sleep. Carefully, he slid his arms around the Japanese's slender waist, rested his hot face against his lover's soft chest, and drifted into a heavy slumber, disturbed by strange, formless and foreboding dreams of his own death, waiting for the time when the inevitable radio announcement would wake the both of them up.

Jennifer hadn’t been very talkative since Rei died. It was hard to lose two friends on the same day this way. But, she had to be strong. She didn’t trust Hannelore or Ami… and Hans looked a little too happy about the flame-thrower he got. The only one she trusted, Devon, was sick but as he now had his medication she hoped he’d get better soon so that he could help her out.

As they all went in to their rooms for the remains of the night, she thought she heard Hans lock the door to his and Hannelore’s. Understandable, considering there was dangerous people out there. She closed the door to hers and Ami’s room, but decided to leave it unlocked in case they’d have to leave in a hurry.

“I’m definitely not what you’d call a heavy sleeper, so don’t bother trying anything, okay?” she said, facing Ami. “I’ll be up and running before you know it…”

"Hans, please, turn around. I want to get into bed, and I need to strip down to my underwear."

Hannelore really didn't care if Hans saw her or not... after all, it's not like it was the first time a virtual stranger had seen her strip virtually naked. Pulling off her shirt and wriggling suggestively out of her skirt, she slowly and tantalisingly revealed a black silk Chanel basque, with black ribbon suspenders holding up slightly worn black lace-topped stockings. Her full breasts threatened to spill out of the low-cut silken cups. She knew how the blackness of the silk contrasted sexily with her milky skin and long golden flowing hair. Slinking round to the other side of the bed, giving Hans a good look at her pert bottom, she pulled back the covers and slowly slid between the sheets.

Suddenly, she made a little grimace of pain, pouting her full sexy lips and batting her long golden eyelashes.

"Ouch, my poor ankle. Hans, can you take a look at it please?"

Hans, who up until now had been completely transfixed by the erotic spectacle unfolding in front of him, his pale face flushed with mingled embarrassment and horniness, almost fell over his own feet to approach the foot of the bed. Hannelore delicately lifted the arch of her foot, her long slender leg becoming exposed as she raised her foot into his hand.

"S'ist ein bisschen geschwollen, Hanne. Tut's weh?"

"Yes, a little. You couldn't massage it a little, could you?"

At the moment he leaned down to rub her foot, she curled her arm around his neck, her dewy blue eyes locking with his, and pulled him down, gently nuzzling her lips against his. Of course, no red-blooded straight man in his right mind would ever think of turning this woman down, and she knew full well she had him already under her erotic spell.

Swiftly, she unbuttoned his shirt with her frantic fingers, both of them almost ripping each others' clothes in their haste to get naked. Passionately, she rolled on top of him and placed his hands on her heaving breasts, straddling him and maneouvering him inside her expertly. Riding his hips roughly, her nails sank into his shoulders as the two students moaned wantonly as the pace increased.

Lost in pleasure, Hans squeezed his eyes closed, unsure as to how much longer he could hold on, but Hannelore, ever in control, evilly steeled herself as she moved her deceptively strong hands from his shoulders to around his throat, and began to squeeze, flexing and tensing the muscles in her lean arms, choking the air out of him. As Hans suddenly realised all too late what was happening, his vision began to dim, most of his concentration still centred in his aching desire, but desperately trying to struggle free from her vice-like grip on his neck.

He managed to bring his knee up behind her and planted it firmly in the small of her back, knocking her off-balance so she slipped from his sweaty body, crying out with pain from the blow. Seizing the moment, and realising he was completely unarmed, he punched her as hard as he could in the jaw, throwing her backwards, but she was prepared for this eventuality. Unbeknownst to the rest of the group, in the pharmacy she had already prepared a syringe full of diamorphine, which she had secreted in her skirt pocket. Using her combat training to the fullest, she kicked Hans first in the privates and then straight in the throat, just under the chin, sending him flying backwards where he hit his head on the wall.

Using this opportunity, Hannelore seized the needle from her skirt pocket and jumped onto her still reeling opponent and stabbed him in the chest with the syringe, pushing the plunger down as hard as she could. The effects were almost instantaneous, and Hans sank gently, his expression dazed with shock and pain.

If that wasn't enough to kill him, she thought, it was certainly enough to make him not wake up for a long time. However, as she began to put his shorts back on and move him back into the bed, she noticed she had left tell-tale finger bruising marks in the soft skin of his throat. She dragged his dead weight with difficulty into the bed, arranging him so that it would look to any of the group that he had OD'd, tying his school tie around his upper arm and placing the empty syringe on the floor. Reaching for her bag, she found her make-up bag, grabbed her tube of foundation and carefully masked the marks her hands had left.

Exhausted, she collapsed onto her bed, and fell asleep.

--------

Translation: It's a bit swollen. Does it hurt?

Devon paused before sitting down to lock his door and jam a chair under the handle. At least now he stood some chance of seeing out the night as long as his body didn't betray him.

Wearily he sat down on the clean sheets of his bed, momentarily distracted by some muffled noises. He shrugged to himself and unpacked the drugs he'd collected with Hannelore.

Just as he was taking the last bottle from his bag his fingers brushed over something and he gasped; resisting the urge to slap himself for being so completely dense.

All this time he'd had a way to get in contact with Park and it was right infront of his eyes. Clumsy in his haste he pulled the mobile phone from his bag and found Park's number in his address book, silently praying that this would work.

He listened, worrying his lower lip nervously until a faint ringing began and almost made him jump. When the line clicked as someone picked up Devon heaved a sigh of relief.

"Oh-my-God,-Park! I've-missed-you-so-much-man. I'm-so-glad-you're-okay-and-Kyo-way-to-go-with-that-by-
the-way-I-mean-he's-hot-not-as-much-as-you-n'-Jen-but-hey-and--uh--Park?"

Dev blinked and waited for a response.

Not long after Park finally managed to doze off to sleep, something which sounded very much like his old alarm clock back at the Institute disturbed his rest. It took a while to even rouse him enough to hear the ascending, insistent ringtone properly and not think it was part of his disturbed dreams.

"...hnnnn?" he mumbled, prising one scarlet, sore eye open, trying not to wake Bukiyo, who made a sleepy moan, before turning himself over and starting to snore lightly again.

Eventually, the exhausted Korean woke up enough to remember where he was, and realised it was no alarm clock that was ringing like that - it was his mobile phone.

"Who the f**k is that?!" he muttered to himself, rubbing his hands over his face, "Probably my f**king dad, phoning to see if I've been picked off yet or not, the bastard."

He scrabbled in his backpack, and located his phone quickly, hoping it wouldn't wake his lover up, answering it sleepily.

"Uh... hi, who's that?" he whispered, completely confused as to who would be trying to ring him in this stinking situation.

"Oh-my-God,-Park! I've-missed-you-so-much-man. I'm-so-glad-you're-okay-and-Kyo-way-to-go-with-that-by-the-way-I-
mean-he's-hot-not-as-much-as-you-n'-Jen-but-hey-and--uh--Park?" It was Devon. Surprised, Park sat up a way further, shocked to find out that it was even possible to use mobile phones in this area... surely the transmitting masts would have been removed by the army?

But then again... the only transmitting mast Park had seen to date had been the one at Battle HQ, which made him feel somewhat nervous... as it was the one they used for the official radio transmissions. The Korean just prayed that their phones weren't currently transmitting their conversation to every game radio in the surrounding area.

"Hey... Dev, how the hell are you doing? Are you feeling any better? Man, you looked really sick earlier..." he whispered, "And where the hell are you? We've been trying to pick you guys up on the TV all night but the TV channel dropped out before we could see where you were hiding - Kyo wants us to come join your group and try to lend a hand - where are you, dude?"

But before he could hear Devon's reply, a hideous crackle of static cut across the line, followed by an ear-splitting blast that sounded suspiciously like an air-horn, making Park yelp and almost drop the phone, holding it at a safe distance from his head. It was so loud it even woke Kyo from his deep sleep, and he surfaced, yawning and looking completely baffled.

Drowsy from the warm glow of the fire and each other's flesh, Sylvain sleepily pulled his slender body back into his clothes, completely at a loss to know or understand what had just happened.

Delilah did possess some kind of feelings for him, that much was obvious... apparently even the most sociopathic of people were sometimes capable of gentle emotions too. He was exhausted to his very core, wishing he had been able to grab a few more minutes' sleep, his dirty blond hair falling tangled over his girlish face, but he allowed Delilah to pull him to his feet.

"What... what now, cherie? Where will we go now? Shouldn't we go looking for le frere du mec sourd que t'as tue*? I think he... might be looking for us, maybe we should find him first, no?" he said softly, feeling her fingers grip his own tightly in a proprietorial, possessive way.

------------
* Trans: 'the brother of the deaf kid you just killed.'

The brunette paused and turned back to her pet, letting go of his hand briefly to tuck the messy strands of dull blonde hair behind his ears in a plainly affectionate gesture, before she led him on through the darkness back towards the town centre. Her voice remained a deathly calm whisper throughout the journey.

"Forget about him for now hmm? I'm tired and hungry and I want you all rested up for when we go and sort him out." The way she described his impending death sounded so detatched and matter-of-fact that it even surprised her. Usually the thought of killing made her regress into a hormonal school-girl, motivated by wild, unrestrained urges and far from her normally tightly reined self-control.

Maybe, at least for now her priorities had changed. She pulled her crumpled map from her bag and held the flashlight down at the ground, reading off quickly and precisely where they were.

In a short space of time they avoided a danger zone, giving it a wide berth just incase Harvey decided to have a little more of his own twisted brand of fun and headed up Oxford Road.

In the dark it was hard to see quite where she intended to break into so Delilah just chose the nearest building and easily breached it. She was no stranger to getting in and out of places covertly, after years of sneaking from the prison of her home at night.

Squinting through the darkness she glanced round, for both potential threats and possible food. As an afterthought she pulled the colt from her skirt and handed it to Sylvain, faintly amused by the expression of disbelief that washed over his pale features. "Here, so you can defend yourself if I fail." She smiled, warmth in her dark gaze and wandered off to explore.

'I'm weak' she thought 'I don't deserve to live. I'm not ruthless like Hannelore. But she shouldn't live either, she is too evil. She betrayed, just like I betrayed everybody else. I was wrong to believe her. I cannot blame her its all my fault.' She leaned forward and found one of her chopsticks in her bag. She sat back in her original position and started twiling it in her fingers, and coming it through her tangled, dirty hair. "I want to die" she whispered. The pain in her jaw making her smile.

"Lee-soo" Harvey said obsequiously, "how good it is to hear from you. And how's my favourite queer? Mind your language now, you're live on TV, and even though this is late-night viewing, I hate profanity of any variety. Also remember, I have my finger poised on the remote. Look at channel 3, either of you. You'll see me there."

Harvey waved at the camera.

"Hello! Satisfied now?" he asked with audible hostility, while a second camera closed in on his thumb, which was poised on a red button on his remote control.

"Devon, don't take any notice of him. Where are you?" Park said stonily, refusing to become involved in any exchange with the bastard who was running the whole show.

A wave of deafening white noise suddenly came out of the handset.

"Naughty naughty Parky boy! I know by now you must be pretty fed up with just shagging your little Japanese rent boy, but honestly, tut, it's pretty low to phone Delonge in the middle of the night just because you want some phone sex. Did you really think I was going to let you tell the sleazy little Korean where you are? Don't think I don't know what you've got planned... but you don't know what I've got planned, do you? You'll see each other anyway in the next Group Zone... if nothing happens to you in the meantime of course. But I can't guarantee you that now, can I?"

"I'm terminating this conversation. And the next time one of you tries to make a mobile phone call, I'll activate the collar."

Kyo sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and looked blearily at Park.

"Whu...?"

He watched with depleted senses as his boyfriend talked anxiously into his mobile.

"...Park-kun?"

Over the other side of town Devon first held the phone away from his ear, wincing slightly at the ear-splitting noise and then listened with mounting fury.

That Bastard.

He should've known it was too good to be true, but of course that prick Harvey had to offer his sarcastic two cents and it was all the Canadian could do not to throw the small handset across the room.

Something deep inside Dev snapped.

Before their former principal could sign off and despite his threats he replied spitefully,

"Shut the f**k up. All you do is bitch and moan about Park and Kyo when everyone knows you're gayer than Graham Norton in a thong. I'm FED UP of all your f**kin lame games so....JUST DO IT. GO ON KILL ME if you're so f**kin homophobic."

"Unless of course, " He added, "You're worried about your precious ratings."

"Why, Delonge, I never believed you were capable of courage. Foolhardy courage, naturally, but a type of courage nonetheless. Not that it'll get you anywhere, after all, you've spent the entire game being protected by women."

"Sorry Devon, but mommy's not here to look after you any more. But who knows, she's probably watching right now and is terribly ashamed of her fudge tunneling, turd burgling perverted miscreant of a son."

"I'm not going to kill you now, after all there's no-one watching and I prefer to kill in front of a very large audience. Which will come to pass. But I have a little special something I think you've earned yourself, and believe me, it'll be worse than activating your collar. Much worse."

<hangs up>

Just after Harvey hung up, he sent a controlled power surge through the transmitter to the two phones, causing them to burst into flames.

After Harvey's interruption and the inevitable tirade of insults he had been expecting (the Korean privately thought Devon was crazy for reacting to the obvious wind-up the sick f**k had been pulling on them... brave, yes, and honourable, to defend their differing sexualities to someone who had dedicated each and every moment of their working life to stamp out the Government-blacklisted deviant practices of homosexuality whilst being gay themselves... but nonetheless crazy), Park heard the phone line cut off dead, and sighed.

So they were no closer to finding out where the group was hiding right now; well, that was no great loss. As Harvey had himself pointed out, the next game period was a Group Zone, and so the Korean boy had no doubt that it would be fairly simple to find that group at some point, and catch up with Dev.

"Sorry the phone woke you up, honey," he murmured to Kyo, who was rubbing his eyes and looking disorientated, "It was Devon, trying to get in touch with us. But Harvey intercepted the call so it was a waste of time... let's just try and get a little more sleep, hmmm?" and he leaned down, cupping the other boy's jaw in his hands, smiling sleepily into his long-lashed dark eyes and giving him a brief, deeply tender kiss.

But as he was about to put the phone back into his bag and snuggle down beside his lover, he suddenly felt the plastic casing of the handset grow hot, and a strange electrical smell filled the air. A moment too late, Park realised what Harvey had done when the unit literally burst into flames, and he yelped, dropping the burning phone onto the floor, a light burn scorching the palm of his left hand, adding the scent of burned flesh to the horrible melting plastic reek. Kyo nearly jumped out of his skin when fire leapt out of his koi's hand.

"There was no need for that, you f**king c**t!" Park screamed, knowing Harvey was listening and probably having a good laugh at his expense, leaping out of bed, stamping out the fire hastily and causing another painful burn, this time on the sole of his right foot. "Shit... shit, that really f**king hurts... bastard..." Smoke was rising from the extinguished phone, making both Kyo and himself sneeze, their tired eyes watering.

And he hobbled into the bathroom to put his hand and his foot under cold water, swearing with the pain and scrabbling around for some kind of antiseptic. Again, Harvey had caused him unnecessary pain, and why? Because Park, Kyo and Devon all had the courage of their convictions, staying true to themselves, and Harvey was a spineless worm who couldn't even admit to his own perversions... preferring to take them out on unfortunate students like Leon Courtney.

No-one at school was supposed to know about that... but word had got out in the Institute's gay community pretty fast after the late younger Courtney had been spotted through the principal's barred window... and it looked like he had been stripped naked and handcuffed, pushed flat on his stomach over Harvey's desk, according to rumour.

Park wondered if Paul knew that, and doubted it - because after all, Harvey was still alive, and the Korean had no illusions that if he had found out, no matter what the consequences the older Courtney would have found the principal, ripped his nuts off with his bare hands and made him eat them.

And in the pain of putting antiseptic his badly blistered hand and foot, Park wished silently he had a better relationship with Paul (although he had the vague idea the older Courtney brother was almost as homophobically driven as Harvey himself), because he would love to see Harvey's demise after all the terrible abuses he had performed on the kids under his so-called 'care'...

Perhaps he could devise some way of letting the older brother know, after all. But he had a little time to try and figure that out before the Group Zone period. But he couldn't even discuss that with Kyo... after all, Big Asshole was watching them 24/7.

Stunned, the petit blond took the Colt assault rifle that his lover had finally gifted to him, and looked in some confusion at her. At long last, she had given him a means by which to defend both himself and her and he wouldn't have to go hiding behind her skirts like a child, which had been a very humiliating experience for him; despite his natural cowardice, he didn't want to look like he was being protected by someone he should have been helping, not hindering, although he knew all too well that Delilah didn't need any help in killing his friends: she was more than capable of taking care of that all by herself.

"M-merci cherie... now I can help defend us both too," he said wearily, almost faint with exhaustion, but leaned down to her to give her a deep, hungry kiss full of new love, his shaking hands clasping the Colt to his chest. He had never even held a gun before, let alone owned one. "Can we... can we sleep now, a little? I feel so tired..."

There were no lights turned on in the house. Paul was lit only by the flickering glow of the TV set. His sunken eyes dark pockets, defying the scrutiny of the dancing light.

Sat cross-legged on the floor, he stared blanky at the screen. he had had the set on for about 20 minutes now. But the images were barely registering when weighed against Paul's turbulent thoughts. Something had been nagging at him for some time now. There seemed to be a gap in his memory. Why could he call up the brutal image of his father being slain so vividly, but not the events that followed immediately after? He had some hazy recollection of running with Leon down a narrow passageway to the sound of alarms but that was about it.

Still staring dead ahead at the TV, Paul drew the bayonet down his left forearm. Sinking the tip in just enough to tug at his flesh. Separating it, the warm blood trickling pleasantly down to his knuckles. Paul hadn't cut himself in many years. He wasn't sure why he was doing it now. But the sharp pain seemed to help him organise his thoughts. He slid the blade upwards, ending the cut a few inches short of his elbow.

The truth was, after the shock his father's death, Paul claimed to hear voices in his head. At the time he and Leon had been staying at a shelter, and nobody seemed to pay a great deal of attention to another loon babblying incoherently. Until Paul had aquired a scalpel and stabbed one of the other strays, An old man. Paul had protested his innocence, saying "daddy wanted me to do it"

The orderlys at the shelter had panicked and had Paul commited to an asylum where 3 years of experimental medication and other forms of "therapy" had drawn a dark foggy veil over Paul's schizophrenic tendencies leaving only the briefest hint of his sadistic urges.

But now, the veil appeared to be slipping.

In a sudden burst of movement, Paul slammed his cut arm up against the wall and slowly dragged it back down to his side, smearing the wallpaper with dark streaks of crimson wetness.

Devon cursed just as loudly and if not more vehemently than Park and lobbed his phone against the wall. It fell to the carpet with a muted and very un-satisfying thud. Just as he was turning away there was a strange noise and the Canadian spun back round again just in time to watch the handset evaporate in a small pool of flame.

Quickly and thankfully quietly he smothered the flames with his pillow and sat down in a crumpled heap beside the ruined phone.

"Bring it on Harvey." He whispered with a soft, resolute determination. Even if Harvey's surprise did cost him his life at least he'd defended both his own lifestyle and that of his friends.

After a long while of just sitting contemplating what he'd let himself in for Devon got to his feet and returned to the plush bed he'd abandoned. Carefully he measured out the right dosages of drugs and without even a flinch, injected himself. When the last bottle was used he laid back and fell into a drugged up stupor.

Eventually Kyo's senses returned rather violently as he saw Park's mobile burst into flames in his palm. He managed to get his brain in gear and throw the covers back when Park hobbled into the bathroom however and ran to help him.

"Iie, let me." With a pent up urgency he forced Park to sit down on the toilet seat and began tending his wounds. All the while Park himself had a strangely pensive expression on his pale face and it prompted Kyo to ask softly, "....are you okay?...what did he say?"

Delilah smiled against his lips and drew back, stroking his cheek lightly.
"Remember," She replied with gravitas, "Always aim before you shoot okay hun...?" Before he could answer she was already off looking for a decent place to rest. The floor here was generic lino, cool and a little dusty, but nevertheless she found a small nook that faced the doors and hence gave her a good vantage point if anyone tried to join them.

She beckoned him over and sat down, laying her long, slender legs out and encouraging him to lie down, his head cushioned on her thighs.

"I'll keep watch darling. Get some rest."

Startled out of his dark thoughts, Park looked up contemplatively at his beautiful lover, and gave him a weary look tinged with fear, pain and anxiety, chewing worriedly at his upper lip.

Eventually, he sighed very heavily, and turned his dark eyes up to Kyo's tender gaze. "I dunno babe... it was the usual charming blend of queer insults aimed at all three of us, and all-out threats."

"But this time I think Devon went too far, and I'm worried for him. He lost his temper and pretty much tried to out Harvey live on TV. I tried to tell him not to get involved, and now..." and he sighed again, wincing as Kyo's gentle fingertips carefully applied antiseptic to his burned palm, "And now I feel responsible. If Dev hadn't tried to defend you and me, he wouldn't have got himself into this situation. I've never heard Harvey so angry. And this time I don't think his threats were empty."

He shook his head slowly with sadness and fatigue, pressing his lips together so hard they formed a pale white line, and held on tightly to Kyo's soft hand, lifting it to his hot cheek and closing his tired eyes. "I don't think he's going to let Dev just get away with it, anyway. But we can't do anything until later. Let's go get some more sleep. Thank you for looking after me. Ner-rul sarang-hae (<I love you>)," he finished quietly, and allowed Kyo to lead him carefully back to bed, where the Japanese boy could hold him tight and drive out all his fearful thoughts for a few more hours, at least.

The diamorphine took effect only moments after it was injected and before Hans understood just what exactly had happened. He fell further and further away from reality and wasn’t aware that his heart stopped beating.

STUDENT #15 Hans Krueger dead 9 TO GO

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