The kid looked around at the other contestants, looked down at himself, and then began to rub his wrists. He had not yet said a single word. He then looked up at the sun and squinted at its radiance.
"The day...", he whispered, hardly audible. He had a low, scratchy voice, as if his vocal chords were rusty from disuse.
"What?" asked Chris. "I didn't hear you."
"The day...The day of the week. What day is it today.", he muttered.
"Monday... I don't see why it's impor...", Chris answered, but he was cut off by the kid, who suddenly began to smirk and recite a poem to himself.
Solomon Grundy, born on a Monday, christened on a Tuesday, married on a Wednesday, ill on a Thursday, grew worse on a Friday, died on a Saturday, buried on a Sunday. Thus was the life of Solomon Grundy. The poem is relevant...shows the absurdity of my incarceration. You will refer to me as such.", he muttered.
"That's a freakishly long name.", said Tyler, who had just recently stumbled out of the woods after his flight as a human projectile.
"Not the whole poem, my dimwitted friend. Merely the name. Solomon. This is my new name in recognition of my rebirth into society.", the convict rasped as he shuffled towards the other campers.
Confessionals
Shadow: "If this guy is going for the preacher act then he's got it nailed down."
Dawn: "How can someone with such intense hatred act so calm?"
Mike: "I don't know about the others, but I really hope I'm not on Solomon's team"
Heather: "He doesn't seem nearly as dangerous as he's made out to be. Sure, he looks the part, but he's going to cave in once someone tries to manipulate him. And that person's going to be me."
End Confessionals
As Solomon approached the rest of the campers, his injuries became much more noticeable. He had three long scars, sliding smoothly across his chest. It looked like he had been attacked by some sort of animal. As well, he had many burns all around his body. He had a dark scar running down the right side of his face, cutting through his eye, and ending at the right of his upper lip. His irises were a bright red color, and his eyes were bloodshot.
Confessionals
Scott: "This guy was more banged up than me on some of the worst days I had back on the farm. Impressive."
Wolfe: *Nods his head approvingly* "This guy's a fighter. He's got that look about him that says 'Don't dick with me, or your gunna get screwed up'."
End Confessionals
"Well enough of that, lets bring out the next contestant." Chris said, pointing to the next arriving yacht. "Now we've got Ray, the Tinkerer".
A short, tanned boy steps off of his yacht with a small bag on his back. He is wearing a white T-shirt and black sweatpants. He says nothing as he walks towards the other contestants.
"Look at who's got himself some swagger. Walking around as if he owns the place." murmurs Chris as he eyeballs Ray. "Next up is Nathan, the Fanboy."
A dark skinned guy comes running off of his yacht and does a little dance the second he lands on the dock. He's tall, sort of chubby and absolutely full of energy as compared to all the other new contestants so far.
Confessionals
Courtney: "This Nathan guy just has that obnoxious air about him. I already know I'm going to hate him."
