we play games with guns (valorant)

chapter 10

(trigger warning: suicidal tendencies)

The Wild West show was playing again. Viper thought it had to be subconscious conditioning or some kind of brainwashing technique. It was a weird show and certainly a strange selection by the game creators.

There was a man perusing a market in the middle of nowhere. He was on the phone with who she presumed was his girlfriend.

There was a snapping noise behind him. The camera panned to the left and there was another guy, this one was smirking. His hair was gelled upward and back, he looked like a streetboy. He drew his gun and said something she didn't catch because her knee was already through the TV. Viper drove her fist into his face. Then her foot.

It toppled off the stand and hit the wall. It lodged itself there and made a dent.

She couldn't stand it. Viper was a criminal and she deserved a lifelong sentence. That show was rubbing salt, acid, in an open wound.

Her hangover hadn't let up completely. She had been drinking water to alleviate the after-effects. It comforted her that Chamber had taken the time to come see her. Viper took the bottle of alcohol in her hands and poured herself a shot.

If her headache wouldn't go away, her pain would. She took a swig. Cleared her throat and took another. She prayed for a visitor. It would be nice to sit with someone and drink.

And her damn shoulder. It was excruciating when she bumped into things or moved it because she forgot.

I can handle it, she thought. The pain would go away. But not the pain of her sins. What had happened to her was miniscule, a stupid speck of sand next to what she had done to Raze and Killjoy.

Humans were the only animals with the brain function to suffer. They drowned themselves in guilt because they didn't know any other way to cope with mistakes. Her mistake was different and would blemish her for the rest of her life.

Viper didn't think she was a good person. She thought this as she stroked the neck of the bottle.

She never made a Plan B. If she ever got out, the whole of U.S. of A needed a safety net. Viper wouldn't let herself near any citizen, child, man or woman. Her hands had done terrible things. Her brain had done terrible things.

She scratched her face hard, as if trying to get rid of a parasite.

Raze the godfather. Five shots through the head. Each bullet ended up in the wall.

Killjoy the vigilante. Two shots. One in the chest, one below the left cheek.

Viper understood one thing. She knew that the random town slot was her. That was her and Killjoy.

Then out of Chamber and Jett, one was the bad guy. Viper would rather be dead than see another execution. Jett was smart. Smart enough to make Viper think one way or another by articulating her moves and maneuvering her way around a conversation. Knowing how to understand someone like her was hard.

But Jett was see-through to Fade. Perceptive, intelligent Fade. And Fade had said something worth noting.

Chamber had given them information and he had shown that he was human. Jett only gave short answers and knew that Fade had framed Killjoy.

Then it was settled. The town would decide on Jett's fate.

The alcohol was still in her hands. She took the shot and poured another to drink sometime in the next five minutes.

Viper had been skimming the Bible Phoenix had lent her. She didn't put much weight in it. It was more or less an interesting read. Isaiah 48:22. Sleep was only for the innocent. Viper agreed and moved on.