The Duel

Many shady characters convened on Cripps' court roof to witness the climax to this term's killing:
A fight to the death between Psycosix, Pam and Tion:

First through the eyes of Tion:

Throughout the term I have held steadfastly by a policy of cowardice. This lady is not for turning or indeed winkling out of her room or shooting anyone (it's against my religion). Having carefully reccied the area the previous day and borrowed some very impressive weaponry I laid my plans, after all as long as I didn't get into range and left the testosterone to it I was guaranteed to come at least 2nd, the small-cloud-floating-above-the-summit of my ambition.

After spending the day rebalancing my internal karma flows and centralising my chi by blowing up balloons and making paper crowns for a childrens party I convened to Cripps court, Queens for about 3.05. (After all no lady should ever be early for an important appointment with a gentleman, even when he is possibly Death).

The Lady at least was smiling on me at the start of the match as I drew one of the endish staircases. Having checked the area I slipped up to the roof to spot the opposition (with a large supersoaker I knew where he'd be standing). He was right at the other end and so I was able to travel round the C till I met up with my partner who had him covered. Attempts to come up from the other staircase were foiled by a collection of observers and my inability to do anything that put me even slightly at risk.

Within a 'short' period (after a small gap for afternoon coffee at 4ish as is necessary to keep up civilised standards (no milk or biscuits though, I should have been more prepared)) he was trapped in the end of B on the roof. And there he stayed, we could not get closer without some hero stuff and he wasn't going to budge. This led to a rather cold hour or so, (well cold for him, we were inside the stairwell) in which the observers were only kept amused by my demonstration of the phrase 'to throw like a girl' and shooting each other.

We then called another truce and set off again on the top floor only. The Lady continued to smile and I was again left at the end with the useful secret passage, where I happily holed up. The next half an hour was only enlivened by visits from observers (and the bloke who kept walking through, if you'd done it again I WOULD have shot you even if you were armed) the guy whose room I was near who kindly offered the loan of a impressive light sabre (I think it would have come under the heading of 'rearming from corpses') and Ralph's motion sensor, which meant I knew where he was and if he moved.

In the mean time P6 was doing his more interesting and impressive stuff and I was suddenly aware of a much beloved voice yelling 'he's down'. Relaxing my guard, after all we were the last left alive, who was there to guard against? I decided to join the happy thong dancing round the corpse. In the excitement I lost sight of my supposed 'partner', when heading up the corridor to congratulate him I was brought up short by a sickening thud that shook my entire my body as my shoulder was ripped away by one of HIS short range missile's fired from behind.

So my dears I leave you with this salutary warning, they may be sweet, they may save you from strangers bearing guns, they may make you wonderful roast dinners and even tea in the morning. But when it finally comes to the point and you stand between them and victory they revert to type and shoot you in the back, All Men Are Brutus.

And the final word is from Psycosix:

     Psycosix came up the final flight of steps and onto the roof of the building. At the far end, his intended victim stood, cradling a oversized gun for the job in hand. It wouldn't do him any good.
     He stepped back into shelter from where he could observe the quarry. As he watched the rain fall gently onto the cornered figure, he held his coffee and waited at ease. It was only a matter of time before he made a break for it and had to come in. Then the full length gun he carried no longer was an advantage in range, but dead weight.
     Tion arrived and offered to break the deadlock, yet something put her off making the rush from the second set of steps. A professional wouldn't have minded the wait. Yet Psycosix was more than just a professional now... he was an enthusiast. He put down the coffee and started to advance. A professional would have remamined hidden. A professional would have stayed out of sight until the moment the contract was fulfilled. He moved up toward 'Pam' letting himself be seen, to taunt the figure.The prey was not foolish and kept to the open spaces where his superior range could dominate. Little by little he closed the distance between them. Even so he was unable to get within striking distance for a knife. The other weapon in his hand was a different matter... With a little help from Tion, he drove Ralph back up into the dead end cutting off the stairs and the only escape. The only ways down for Ralph now were a four floor drop or a nylon zipper bag.
     A group of innocents came up to the roof causing a hurried concealment of weapons and Ralph took the opportunity to bolt down into the building, dropping his heavy weapon for a shorter more suitable item. He was only delaying the inevitable.
     Tion went down into the building at the opposite end from Psycosix as he descended the stairwell and began to sweep methodically towards where Ralph had to be. Weary of ambush and careful not to let his quarry slip away he painstakingly checked every corridor and dead end in the maze-like complex. Somewhere ahead lay Tion and Ralph both to Psycosix in an unknown state of Vitality.
     He peered cautiously around the door of the penultimate kitchen. There stood Ralph but not for long as he dived round the corner. P6 took the opportunity to close the distance between them, stopping behind a door midway along the kitchen. He traded shots with Ralph to no avail, neither side could gain the advantage with the amount of cover each possessed despite the short distance between them. Then Pam disappeared round the corner to reload the rifle. It was all the opportunity P6 needed. Crossing the intervening distance in a second he came round the corner below waist height and fired both the speargun and the shotgun into Ralph. The spear went deep into his groin and the shotgun ripped a hole through the side of hs chest. It was an instantaneous explosion in crimson that redecorated the corner of the corridor where he had been standing, the shots released from the victim's own gun smacking harmlessly into the wall of the kitchen.
     It was the tentative cry of his erstwhile partner inquiring as to who had just been shot that broke his reverie. He had no doubt that she would try and kill him now for what he had become. A professional who enjoyed their job too much was a dangerous thing to have as a partner and no partnership yet had ended with the healthy retirement of more than one member. Having a hitman for a friend can be seriously damaging to your health.
  He dropped back into the shadows and followed the passageway round. Silently he opened the door from the stairwell onto the second corridor. At the end, he saw Tion. As he had suspected, she was waiting in ambush outside the kitchen.
     He longed to sneak up behind her and plunge his blade into her back, to hear the last hiss and feel the warmth of her dying breath upon his cheek. Looking at the corridor he saw this would not be possible. Too many obstacles lay between them. Somewhat regretfully, he reloaded the spear gun. He tried to take aim but his hands were trembling...with excitement.
     He lifted the weapon to his shoulder, half hoping that she would turn and see the bolt coming. It launched with a slight 'thunk' and seemed to glide forever, an eternity trapped in the moment of a heartbeat. There was no cry. A slight gasp of surprise was all that passed her lips as she fell. It had been a little hight for a heart shot but the massive amount of damage inflicted by the speargun guaranteed a rapid fatality.

    He lingered for a moment before concealng the weapons and walking out into the world as if nothing had happened. The world would never admit to one such as he. The grey lives of the grey people around him as they lived their own mundane existence could never see him for what he was. The days and nights belonged to them, but the twighlight and the shadows were his world. He would never speak with an equal, for anyone who let someone live long enough to speak would be no equal. He would never receive recognition for the thankless task he did, culling the excess and the socially sick from the herd of humanity. They refused to bring him into light and so he would remain in darkness. Lonely but never alone, alive but dead inside...
                                                                                     ...and violently happy.

Index * Week 1 * Week 2 * Week 3 * Week 4 * Week 5 * Week 6 * Duel