Total Drama: Liberation of the Slaughtered
((Authors Note: I'm waking up- - - to ash and dust- - - I wipe my ass and I slap ma nuts- - -))
Five years... and yet all of the events of he past still feel as though they had happened yesterday.
Stepping off a boat and looking over a bright thriving island as birds flew overhead, and people chattered to each other around the docking area. Fresh sea water and winding laughter as everyone made their first enemies or friends.
All of these bright memories were diminished with a dark shadow. A permenant membrance of pain and past agony.
Yet, with all these small, fond memories lingering in his mind, there were whispers of those awful days spent in a living hell that had only stopped when they had been rescued.
The dread that danced on his stomach, and the hours of waiting as time ticked by, wondering just who was unfortunate enough to be caught by the serial maniac that roamed the island and claimed 15 of their lives.
Brutal, hopeless... awful.
Despite being over, it never really was over. Not to him. It never would be over, until there was closure.. and closer had not reached him. Not yet. There could never be closure with circumstances such as these.
Cody paces around the darkened room of his small 1-story house. He raked his hands through his hair as he looks around the darkened space, feeling both unwelcome, yet so at home in this awful room.
Barren, unlight, free of sunlight or warmth. Just like the days that followed the first death at Camp Wawanakwa. Everyday he was on edge, looking over his shoulder as he just couldn't help the feeling of being watched or just or judged.
The years following the rescue of him and the other 7 survivors were not pretty. Not for him. In a word full of pain, why would he of all people get it easy? Why would he have any freedom from these feelings that tormented him, and nagged at him still?
Ever since they were rescued... Cody had to admit he never kept in contact with the others. Everyone that survived... they didn't hate him. He didn't think so- but for most of them, he wasn't their friend. He was just someone else who somehow managed to make it out alive.
It was... rather funny actually. In a way. Cody Anderson, a so called puny dweeb and even arguably pathetic boy managed to survive such an event when tougher people than himself had been killed.
Perhaps it was the survivors guilt kicking him in the ass. Maybe it was just him looking for a reason to feel sorry for himself, considering how little he suffered compared to anyone else.
Cody had a knack for surviving. He just had this stupid motherfucking way of surviving a lot of what... would be considered impossible. Getting mauled by wild animals, getting harassed by others who antagonized him from time to time. Falling down ledges and carrying 3 other boys that were at least 2x his weight during one challenge.
He himself was an enigma. How had he even survived that long?
Perhaps... if he had died with the others... he wouldn't be as lonely as he was now. Contemplating his life, and remniscing over such traumatic events that he could have maybe opted to heal from years ago when help was being offered.
The others... they didn't quite move on. But they were coping better than he was.
Gwen dropped most of her gothic wardrobe, and started dressing a bit more like trent. Hell, she even managed to find a shirt exactly like his online a couple years ago... according to her social media page.
She works with her younger cousin in a pet care facility.
Good for her. She had her life... not together but back on track.
Leshawna changed quite a bit. She cut her hair considerably shorter, and eventually invested in reading glasses. She was now in computer programming. Working on putting a game toghether. The main character was a ginger haired geek, with 'sick ninja skills' last cody read.
Leshawna found a partner and he treated her well. They were making the game together, maybe? Cody wouldn't know. All he was sure of was that Leshawna was healing, as most of them were.
Duncan had found himself getting into office work. Something that no one ever saw happening. He never dropped his green and black hair, but over time- he let go of his piercings, and started dressing at least a little more casually.
Commemmorating Courtney with his changes- he wasn't quite happy... in fact... his life was quite dull. But he felt closer to the deceased. Confiding in organization and planning out his life, even if it was just a little bit.
He would get used to it... or... finish getting used to it.
Katie grew her hair out, and put on a little weight. She works with her mother in the sweets shop. She had found herself a girlfriend, and even adopted a child.
She had not yet come back to her usual chipper self- but she was trying. Visiting her best friends grave every single week.
Izzy vanished for a long while, only coming back recently after passing a clean bill of mental health from the local sanitarium. She had lost herself after the events of the island, and due to not having much of anyone by her side anymore- she had tried to commit.
She had a reputation for being crazy. Even if only a few episodes aired, she was looked at strange by many people after her rescue.
Thinking she may be the killer, who managed to get free of the rightful sentancing she deserved... or something. Her and Eva got together sometime after that.
Because... life goes ... on.
Speaking of Eva... she had been effected the least negatively, but it effected her all the same. Eva didn't have close friends during the events of the islands murder spree. She wasn't close to anyone because of her brash attitude and aggressive nature.
Even if she was inspirational.
She had her own regrets. She was a tough, scary woman when provoked. Facing Chef Hatchet on many occasions. Chef, who was not nice on most.
Eva was competant and capable... so... what stopped her from trying to kill or neutralize the killer?
Maybe it was the fact that... even if Chef seemed crazy or scary at times... there was also the lingering knowledge that chef would not purposefully kill or maim them. (At least, of his own accord)
The killer already took out several people before he would have been close to them. People that died not because they were SIMPLY stabbed to death or something.
The killer was a sadistic maniac. This maniac loved to cause pain and make others distressed. Dead bodies were playthings. Along with the lives of the innocent that stained their hands red with blood.
Even so, she couldn't help but feel guilty.
No. Life does not just 'go on'.
Cody thought about the former camp mates that he forced himself out of contact with as he threw a glass bottle against the wall with a tired grunt of pain and melancholic misery.
Even if life was always changing or 'ongoing' it never continued on.
Cody was stuck in his own box. His own box of regret, and overthinking everything that had happened. He did always get attached too easily... way... way too easily...
He brought his fingers up to the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep sigh.
"Everyone's gone ahead and I left myself behind... now I'm alone all over again." he sighed, before leaning agaisnt the windowsill, barely bothering to peer through the blinds.
Still alone... out here in the outskirts of town.
Biding his time as he waits to hopefully allow himself to heal from this trauma. Half a decade of freedom, and he was still trapped in his own cage, fueled by guilt and denial.
In the end... the only reason he had not calimed freedom... was becaus he never let himself be free.
Perhaps... he never would.
Closing his eyes, he let his wet eyes rest as he flopped on his somewhat tattered cough with a low thump, a sigh escaping him.
With his exhaustion and lack of self care, he tired out quickly. Falling asleep where he sat within half a minute, his head lulled to the side and he found himself consumed by darkness.
((IDEK if I will continue this.lmao))
