The Future Diary 2: Blood Of The Past

This Is The Way The World Ends

There was the sound of somebody groaning, and Dawson went alert. Just as he came to the gallery door, Emmi stumbled out, clutching his chest.

"Emmi!" Dawson shouted.

"Fuck man, that piece of shit Chris stabbed me and tied me up back there," Emmi groaned. "Fuck that guy, and his good fucking hair."

A tear came to Dawson's eye. Emmi fell to the ground, rolling over. In his hand was one of the game letters.

"Wait," Emmi said, but it was too late. Dawson grabbed it and threw it down.

"Why do you have this?" he yelled, pointing the sword at Emmi's throat.

Emmi swallowed. "It's not mine. It's Chris's."

"Bullshit!"

"No, I swear. Check the back. It has Chris's number on it. He told me about the game and gave it to me. I swear that's all."

Dawson grabbed the note. He flipped it over. Written on the back was the number 4. In his head, he checked. 4 was dead. It was just him and 11 left.

Dawson lowed his sword and dropped the note. He extended his hand, and Emmi grabbed it, standing up.

"I'm sorry," Dawson said.

"It's fine, you had every right," Emmi wheezed.

"Are you gonna be alright?" Dawson said.

"Yeah. I can make it out of here."

"Good. I want you to run down that hill, and get to the nearest hospital. Don't call the cops."

"No," Emmi insisted. "I'm staying here. I want to finish this with you."

"You can't," said Dawson. "I need you to take care of my son if anything happens to me."

Emmi smiled mischievously. "Man, you fucking crazy bitch. You know I ain't a dad." He stopped. "I'll try. Just win, okay?"

"I will, just get the hell out of here already."

Emmi smiled, then hobbled towards the door. Dawson watched him leave. He knew it would be the last time he would ever see him, whether he died or lived.

He rounded the corner, looking deep into the room next to the back lobby.

There stood Jeff, holding a knife.

"Jeff?" Dawson called.

"You know," Jeff began. "I had this emotion inside me for a really long time. I didn't know what it was, but tonight, I think I realized what it was." Jeff turned, his eyes watery, and his knuckles white on the knife. "It was hatred. Hatred for you."

"Don't be that way, man, it doesn't have to end like this," Dawson pleaded.

"Yes it does," Jeff snapped. "You need to pay. Everybody knows it except you. You destroyed my sister's life. You killed everybody here tonight."

"I know I did, Jeff, but this doesn't matter anymore. Fuck the game, this is about our friendship! I've already lost enough friends tonight, don't do this."

Jeff advanced on him. "So this was all just a game to you, huh? That's what it was? Well it was real to me, Dawson, I lived every second of it! I lived it in putrid self wallowing, in lies and fear, and now, I'm not scared anymore."

"Put the knife down, Jeff, please,"

"So now, the only thing left to do is finish this," Jeff said, and he ran at Dawson, but Dawson didn't fight, he ran too and he ran into the hallway where he bumped into David.

"What's going on back there?" asked David.

"Get the fuck away from me!" Dawson threatened, pointing the tip of his sword at David. David raised the gun and fired a shot behind him, causing Jeff to jump for cover in the gallery.

"Come with me!" David shouted.

"Yeah, go with the guy you hate," Jeff said. "You know, I changed my mind! I wanna be friends! Just come here, and give me a hug, like good old times, Dawson!"

"He's fucking crazy!" David shouted as he dragged Dawson through the dining hall. They came to the mount where the swords used to be, and Jeff jumped at them, knife swinging.

Dawson kicked him into the wall as David ran into the trophy room. Jeff wheezed on the floor.

"Leave me alone, both of you, I need to think!" Dawson said, his throat burning and choked.

"He's the last one, Dawson, kill him already!" he could hear David shout as he backed away into the gallery, towards the back porch.

"I'm not a part of your stupid game," Jeff jeered. "I just want my vengeance!"

Dawson stepped out onto the porch, and David pointed a gun at him. Dawson raised his sword.

"Back away, Dawson, I'll help you," David said, not wavering his aim. Jeff jumped out onto the porch from the hole in the door, catching his breath.

"If anything, I'm going to decide who dies," Dawson said.

"Always taking control, is that it?" Jeff said. "You're the star of the show, everything about you matters!"

"Don't give into him!" David chided. "Don't listen to his lies!"

Dawson shifted his sword to Jeff. "You're stupid if you think it's me," he said. "But you'd also be stupid to not kill me."

"He's gone fucking crazy, Dawson, let me at him!"

"No I haven't! I know exactly what I'm doing, and you're a liar!"

"Don't listen to him Dawson!"

"Oh, just shut the fuck up!" Jeff yelled charging with the knife.

David fired his Glock and Jeff collapsed to the floor, blood staining his chest. He lowered the gun, breathing. "It's over, thank God."

Dawson dropped his sword, looking inside his head. He stopped. "If it's over, how come 11 isn't dead?"

David looked at him. "He's probably just still alive..."

Dawson shook his head, backing away. "No. Tell me it's really not you. After all that..."

"Dawson," David said, looking him directly in the eye. "It's not me. I swear."

"He's right," a voice said, and gunshots ripped through David's chest, spraying blood everywhere. He toppled to the ground, and Shay stepped over his body.

"It's you?" Dawson asked.

"I'm the silent one," she said. "I don't need brawn or brains to win. I just need to be smart."

"But I deserve this. I fought to win."

Shay eyed him. "No you don't. You don't deserve this any more than I do. Who's saying that you're better than me besides yourself? I'm a mother, you're a father. We're both bad people in a way, what's the difference?"

Dawson swallowed. "So this is the way the world ends, huh?"

"Damn right it is," Shay said, pointing her gun at Dawson. "Just me and you."

Dawson sprung at her twisting the gun from her hand, throwing it across the deck next to Jeff's body.. She punched him the the face, the neck, and the stomach, and he keeled over, helpless.

"Fuck me," she said. "This was supposed to be easy."

"Dawson!" Jeff yelled, springing up with the kitchen knife just as Shay grabbed the gun, and jabbing it into her ribs.

Dawson dove for David's gun, rolling quickly, just as shay gained her balance.

He squeezed the trigger as hard as he could, and the shots boomed out like a dove's cry on a new morning.

Shay fell to the ground, bleeding, bullets riddling her body. Dawson fell backwards, breathing. The game was over.

He had won.