EA Forums - Banner

[CG] *~IN THE DARK~* Game Over - Congratulations Innocents

Prev13456718
Day 1 Morning Message

The twenty guests arrived to a gate sited at the edge of the forest, and upon passing through they were met immediately by a set of instructions on a piece of parchment pinned to a wall.

"We have to take the cable car up the mountain (and it doesn't look safe)," Annette announced.

"I don't like the look of that..." Squirrel cautioned, while giving the rusted, dented cable car a once over. "I doubt we could even fit all of us in here."

"It'll have to do. Get in," Yukon told them, dragging her suitcase over the threshold of the car whilst rolling her eyes.

Eventually, all twenty of them and their bags were cramped in the cable car and the door barely closed shut. Johnny pulled levers and pushed buttons until the glass walls shuddered and the floor began to lift off of the ground. "Got it!" he exclaimed.
The cable car moved clumsily up the huge hillside, moving like a pendulum from side to side, but something wasn't right. The floor began to crumble away beneath them, and a hole opened up in part of the tiny car's floor. RMV was standing right above it, and fell perilously into the dark depths of the forest, and the rest of the group could only watch as her face turned from discomfort in the cramped car to terror and fear while she was falling into the forest. Only nineteen would make it to the party.

Still in shock from losing RMV, the group numbly and silently rolled their suitcases out of the cable car as it reached its destination, and the medieval mansion rose over the horizon and cast a large, elongated shadow over the entire forest, for it was dawn. Without acknowledging its presence, the group walked solemnly in single file in the direction of the mansion, up a steep, rocky path which wound between the trees like a gigantic snake in huge, towering blades of grass. They reached the door of the mansion and Moxxee reached out to knock the door, but it creaked open before knuckle could reach wood.

"Ah! My guests have finally arrived!" G.L. shouted enthusiastically, the antithesis of the rest of the group currently, and he surveyed them. "One short? No matter. Nineteen was preferable anyway. Come, come!" he said, ushering them all in. He either did not notice or didn't care about the aghast and disgusted expressions on their faces as he brushed off the absence of one member of the group.

G.L. instructed his butler to take each guest, one at a time, to their lodgement and whispered something about "making sure the others don't see" into his ear, but the group could not make it out. One by one, they apprehensively followed the lustreless, monotonous, seemingly braindead butler down the hall to their respective rooms, each grand, polished mahogany door was marked with an exquisite gold plated name, curiously ranging from Voldemort to Jason Voorhees, to other assorted cinematic villains. Once each guest was settled into their room, they discovered a note on their chest of drawers, each in their identically furnished rooms.

"Open the first drawer. Please see that this remains your countenance for the entire night." each note read. Every guest opened the said drawer and a collective gasp rang from each room, as they inspected their unique porcelain mask.

"Not your traditional masquerade mask with black feathers and gold glitter," thought Sakura.

"Us Conspiracy Game players were never ones for tradition," thought Juliet, seemingly telepathically, "I wonder why we're getting movie masks."

Forced Vote: Nobody

Absent: Nobody
Day 1 Evening Message

Final Vote Count

1. Michael Myers - 3 votes - (Leatherface, Hannibal Lecter, Chucky)
2. Dr. Evil - 3 votes - (Jason Voorhees, The Joker, Lord Voldemort)
3. Darth Vader - 2 votes - (Carrie White, Norman Bates)
4. Norman Bates - 1 vote - (Vito Corleone, Darth Vader)
5. Hannibal Lecter - 1 vote - (Michael Myers)
6. Vito Corleone - 1 vote - (Dr. No)
7. The Joker - 1 vote - (Jack Torrance)
8. Carrie White - 1 vote - (Harvey Dent)
9. Chucky - 1 vote - (Sweeney Todd)


Michael Myers will be lynched for reaching 3 votes first.

Story:

G.L. sat in his control room, and a beaming smile erupted on his face. He glanced over each of the nineteen screens, each one a picture of confusion and perplexity.

“Seven o’clock,” he announced over the intercom, “time to dawn your masks.” He watched in delight as everyone buckled their masks to their faces. Suddenly, a painful click was heard from each of the rooms as two spokes emerged from each mask and embedded themselves into the guests’ necks. G.L. could only imagine the terrified expressions on their faces, as now their masks were permanent. Lasting. Abiding. Any attempt to remove them would result in a rather messy tracheal rupture, and death a few minutes later.

“I’ll see you in a couple of minutes!” he sang in a disturbingly buoyant, shrill tone.

G.L. danced down the stairs and ordered the butler to knock on the doors of the rooms. Each guest came out of their rooms and stood outside their respective doors, adorned by glamorous flowing gowns and dashing suits. One slightly less attractive feature of their attire however, was the mask on each guest’s face. They ranged from bloodied hockey masks, to masks that looked eerily similar to human flesh.

“What is the meaning of this?” said whoever was under the mask of Lord Voldemort, muffled.

“You see, my Lord, to celebrate the second anniversary of our first game, I decided we should host another, er, slightly modified version. The principles are the exact same. Innocents find the villains, innocents are free to go. Villains try to destroy every life other than their own. Except, there is a relatively minor risk involved, but we’ll get to that later.”

“So you’re forcing us to kill each other?!” came from under the mask of Michael Myers.

“Well you specifically may not have to kill anyone, that remains to be seen. But the chances are you’ll end up dead, which is the only minor risk, other than the probable severe mental trauma, sleepless nights, and horrific tonguetangles! So you all have nothing to worry about. But in traditional day one fashion, I propose we see ourselves to the ballroom and have a little lighthearted fun before the real action starts, don’t you think?” G.L. replied, nudging the butler who then clumsily led the way into the cavernous ballroom.

Majestic rouge curtains draped the windows around the entire room, which was dotted with regal chaise lounges. In the middle of the room a lengthy table stretched from one end of the room to the other, and it was littered with assorted hors d'oeuvres and fountains spouting champagne. The group stood dumbfounded at the top of the staircase, pondering on the lengths G.L’s insanity would have to reach to put on such a feast for people he planned to murder.

“Come, come!” he instructed, beckoning them down the marble staircase, “make yourself at home; but do be warned, keep your wits about you or you might end up there,” he said minaciously, as he pointed to the towering walls which had countless animal heads mounted on them. G.L. retreated back up the stairs and headed for his control room.

“So what do we do now?” the muffled voice of Jae asked.

“Enjoy the free champagne, while it’s still here,” Taco Belle replied, rolling her eyes.

“But four people, potentially more, in here are going to try to kill us! We need to start deducting who is who,” Juliet pleaded, and the voice of Sakura rang in her head, “Don’t you mean 5, Juliet?”

“Can Annette, Moxxee, Maryclaire and Lynn please listen attentively,” the excited voice of G.L. boomed from the intercoms yet again, “Team 1 will comprise of Annette and Moxxee, Maryclaire and Lynn making up Team 2. Do what you must to rid the mansion of everyone but yourselves, but do it surreptitiously. That is all. Have a good night, everyone.”

Masks distorted across the room as everybody’s face turned to utter shock. Accusations were thrown left and right.

“Who’s hiding under that face, Michael?” the mask of Hannibal Lecter asked.

“Oh that’s a story for another day. What’s on my mind right now is how wonderful it would be if you happened to take a shower right now,” replied Hannibal, making a stabbing motion in the air.

“Do you hear this?! He must be one of the villains,” Sweeney Todd asserted, “unmask him, then we’ll see!”

Beads of sweat formed on Jblue’s forehead and blurred her vision as her mask pressed them to her face. “Don’t! It’ll kill me! They’re implanted in our necks,” she rationalized. "I was just trying to get into character."

“Nonsense. We just want to know if you’re one of the villains, that’s all. Then we’ll decide if we want to kill you,” the group reasoned.

Hannibal Lecter’s and Sweeny Todd’s frightening faces advanced on Michael’s, and Jblue backed into a corner, terrified. She tried to run, but the long, sleek curtain tripped her and fell from its hooks. Myers reached out an arm and put one hand around Jblue’s mask. With one brutal swipe, the vicious stare of Michael Myers was jerked away to reveal a terrified expression mixed with utter agony, and a tear fell from Jblue’s eyes as she gasped for air, but the punctures in her neck emptied her windpipe, and emptied any chance there was of her surviving. Her lifeless body slumped to the ground and Lecter covered her in the curtain that was torn in her attempt to escape. Blood draining from Jblue's neck stained the curtain a darker red. Lynn looked on, thankful for her mask, as it hid her expression of pure glee. One down. Also thankful for their mask (but for a completely different reason), the person behind the face of Lecter broke into tears. This lynching was serious business.

Dead:

Day 1: Michael Myers, Jblue, Vandal (innocent)
Day 2 Morning Message

Tears ran down many eyes as they fondly remembered Jblue's greatest moments. Like dying on the first night of her first CG. And dying on the first night of the second CG. And dying... you get me. Sweeney Todd's alias, riddled with guilt, tried to take Jblue's curtain wrapped and blood soaked body outside to bury her in the forest, but the door was bolted shut and barricaded.

"Is anyone going to make it out here alive?" he asked himself, his voice shaking. He laid Jblue's body beside the door, hoping G.L. was decent enough to give her a dignified send-off. He returned to the door of his room and watched everyone embracing and sobbing outside their rooms. Silently, but there all the same, an aura of insincerity lingered. Everyone knew at least some of the tears shed were those of a crocodile. As Norman Bates and Jason Voorhees broke away from a hug, Annette sobbed and wailed. She wanted Norman to appear distraught, but the only thought on her mind was that herself and Moxxee were one step closer to walking out of this place. Under that disturbing mask of Norman Bates, Annette's brow furrowed in thought, planning her victim’s demise, knowing that the real psycho was found on the inside of that mask.

“Lock your door, just to be safe,” Juliet said to Sakura, silently, as the group resigned to their rooms for the night, shocked by how a couple of glasses of cheap champagne and some panic can lead to violent mob mentality and a dead woman in a couple of minutes.

Doors clicked shut, and most fell asleep nearly immediately, exhausted by the day from hell. Ghostface, however, could not. He lay on his bed, gears grinding and wheels whirring. He had to help his friends somehow, he wasn't going to sit and watch another innocent companion die. And besides, the last episode of "Goede Tijden, Slechte Tijden" was so horrific it kept him up at night. It dawned on him: in his sleepless state, he could hide in another room and see if anyone plans to strike. He ever so slowly pulled open his door, tiptoed down the hall, and looked at the fifth door down. Harvey Dent, the nameplate read. Ghostface creaked the door open, making sure whoever was hiding under the hideous mask of Two Face was asleep, and hid in the closet.

Ghostface wasn’t the only person who wasn’t planning on getting much sleep. Annette creaked open her door, stepped out into the hallway and looked down at the piece of paper. Whatever writing used to inhabit the slip was smudged by Annette’s sweaty palms, but she headed for Moxxee’s room and looked up at his door to check if the nameplate was correct, and stepped inside.
Moxxee looked up as the door opened slowly, and saw the face of Norman Bates enter his room.

“Annette, I understand?” Moxxee asked. Norman simply nodded, and sat on the bed, quick to the point.

“I gathered everything I could,” the ever resourceful Annette told him, “I sharpened the bar of soap as much as I could, but something tells me that won’t be enough.”

“Annette, Annette! No need. G.L. left me a little gift with my mask,” Moxxee smirked, sinisterly, as he opened his drawer and pulled out a long, slender knife. “Now we have the what all we need to figure out is the who

Moxxee and Annette stealthily slinked out into the hallway, in fierce conversation but barely raised above a whisper.

“Michael seems to be a really good target,” Annette proposed, and Moxxee nodded his head. They slowly pushed open the door to Michael’s room, ran in, and both pounced on the bed, ready for retaliation. But none came.

“...Oh yeah!” Annette recalled.

“Well I guess that’s what backups are for,” Moxxee reasoned.

They ventured out into the hall again, and across the way, they read the name “Harvey Dent” on the door. But it was already open. To answer their overwhelming curiosity, Moxxee pushed open the door and saw the mask of Harvey Dent, attached to its subject, sleeping.

“This should be easy,” Annette joked to her partner, smirking.

Moxxee creeped to the edge of the bed, knife in hand, and held it to just below the mask of Harvey, above their victim’s neck.
“Quiet!” he demanded, and Annette froze. “We aren’t alone.” Terrified, Elian tried to steady himself as his entire body shook and his teeth shattered. He clutched his knees as close to his chest as possible, he tried to reduce himself to nothing, in the slim hope he wouldn't be found.

“Close…the...door,” Moxxee requested, and Annette’s eyes widened as animal-like instincts kicked in gear as Moxxee cleared the room. Elian’s eyes peered through the eyes of his Ghostface mask and through the slats in the closet doors, and he prayed to the “Dank Memes” Gnome to get him out of this alive. Moxxee pressed his ear to the closet door and heard Elian’s shaky, broken breathing, swung the door open and gasped.

“Ghostface!” he exclaimed, loudly, forgetting his current situation.

As Moxxee swiped for Elian’s mask, Harvey Dent woke up and leapt out of his bed, grabbing a coin. Quickly realising what was happening, he flipped the coin in the air and caught it in the palm of his hand.

“Heads. I guess I’m not dying tonight,” he sighed, relieved. He tossed it again, and it landed tails, “damn, I’ll join them next time. But chance is unbiased, unprejudiced, fair.” So he obeyed the coin, tossed it for final time in quick succession, and it showed tails. He looked up, one attacker stood on the left, his face hidden because he was turned towards another guest, and Norman stood on the right.

“Norman it is,” he concluded, and simultaneously, in the blink of an eye, Moxxee removed the visage of Ghostface as Harvey Dent struck at Norman’s jaw, and snatched the mask off of his face. Two atrocious, frightful howls were heard at the same time as both Annette and Elian gasped for air. The diabolical, smug grin on Annette’s face turned to terrified realisation as she knew any hope of getting out of here victorious was wiped away by the flip of a coin. Annette’s body slumped in front of Moxxee, landing on top of Elian’s. Moxxee was jolted from his murderous trance as he saw the body of Annette, and realised he wasn’t safe. Devastated and distressed at the unforeseen loss of his partner, but knowing he had to get out of the room to avoid detection, he grabbed a t-shirt from the wardrobe and obscured his mask, cursing Dent and running into the hallway, making sure he wasn’t being followed. Harvey would be his, he just needed luck on his side. Dent closed his door, thankful for the fortune of the coin toss. He rolled his eyes and went back to sleep.

16rguq.jpg

Dead:

Day 1: Michael Myers, Jblue, Vandal (innocent)
Night 1: Norman Bates, Annette, Villain 1A (villain)
- Ghostface, Elian, Insomniac (innocent)
Day 2 Midday Message

G.L. sat in his control room, agitated by the lack of consensus in the group. He looked at his roll of parchment, titled "Votes" and names were written in the margin, crossed out, rewrote and crossed out a second time. All the 'safe' one votes he saw saddened him.

"Friends, in the coming hours in the approach to twilight, and your likely assassination of another innocent among your ranks, I have decided to impose a rule that will hopefully lead to some concord. Either that, or total chaos and uproar.

By the end of this day, if the party leading the vote to be lynched does not possess three or more votes, there will be NO public execution. Instead, G.L. will happily choose a random guest to leave the mansion. In a body bag. That is all."


"That's it," Darth Vader breathed, huskily, "I've had it. You have my official resignation, G.L."

G.L's face contorted even more, his frown grew. As he watched Darth Vader pound on the door, looking for freedom. How unfortunate, yet another casualty so early in the game. But G.L. was hopeful for a replacement.

"Four and a half hours until dusk," an automated voice boomed over the intercoms, as G.L. retreated to his desk and sat in deep, concentrated thought.
Day 2 Evening Message


Final Vote Count

1. Dr. Evil - 4 votes - (Vito Corleone, Jigsaw, Chucky, Lord Voldemort)
2. Carrie White - 4 votes - (Leatherface, Harvey Dent, Darth Vader, Jack Torrance)
3. Jigsaw - 4 votes - (Dr. Evil, Jason Voorhees, Freddy Krueger)
4. Freddy Krueger - 2 votes - (Dr. No, The Joker)


Dr. Evil will be lynched for reaching four votes first.

Forced vote: Dr. Evil, Freddy Krueger, Jigsaw

Story:

G.L. wandered his commodious mansion, unsure if he had even walked this particular hallway before. He meandered across the hall in the boredom of the usual midday lull, peering into rooms and sauntered past. One however, caught his eye. In the same cursive, gold plating on the “guests’” rooms, The Pit marked a door, whose paint was chipping and wood cracking, a world away from its pristine neighbours.

“I don’t remember having this installed,” he thought aloud. He creaked open the door, careful not to take it from its hinges and slowly stepped inside. He hugged the wall of the room, and set out along the perimeter until he found a light switch. He flicked it and the fluorescent tubes that lined the roof slowly flickered and lit up into life, as if they were awoken from a deep sleep. What G.L. saw surprised even his sadistic mind.

In the middle of the room, a huge pit about fifteen feet deep lay ominously with broken glass and rusted nails lying at the bottom. Chains were set into the wall, and the cuffs at their ends looked were demonically inviting. Above the pit and beyond the railings that seemingly sought to divide captor from captive, was a Mephistophelian looking machine, which looked like it was used for electrotherapy. Two tongs lay beside it, wrapped in copper wire and soaking in water. G.L. knew he would rather be on the administering end of this device than the alternative. He carefully advanced on the instrument, as one would on a sleeping best, and turned the large wheel mounted on it. Sparks flew and bulbs lit as he spun the wheel with more and more haste, and, at the same time, bulbs lit in his monster of a brain. He turned the light off and paced towards the ballroom where he knew the group would be congregating to lynch another perfectly innocent guest.

G.L. opened the soaring doors into the room, whose state had deteriorated quickly from the beautiful ballroom it was a mere twenty-four hours before. Curtain were unhooked, chairs toppled over, and champagne stained the carpets. G.L. watched the group from the stairs, and a frown soon took refuge on his face. Accusations with no foundations were cast from nearly every mouth, some stayed silent, others made pittance worth of sense, but as usual, the illogical presided (see: Brexit). Inveterately, anything with no foundation hastily collapses, and the votes were no exception.

“It’s Jigsaw!” someone shouted, “wait, no. It’s not. Or is it? I think it is!”

Maryclaire looked on, grinning underneath her mask. How convenient.

“Why kill anyone if they do it for us?” she whispered to Lynn.

G.L. looked on, and as the sun set over the distant hills, a purplish coloured twilight set over the room, and the group had decided, by a(n extremely) narrow margin, that Dr. Evil was undoubtedly one of the killers.

Juliet’s cheeks were so red they burned. She couldn’t let Sakura go. Yes, she was a lost cause, but deep down she was still on their side.

“No, don’t! It’s Jigsaw,” she pleaded, but no one availed.

Yet another innocent would lose their lives. Voldemort advanced on Dr. Evil as tears scorched Sakura’s eyes. Voldemort stroked the mask with a long piece of wood he fashioned into a wand (it must have been a rather quiet game day…) and, as the final nail in the coffin, struck the mask with his free hand. Sakura’s face was revealed, and the last words on her lips were of her beloved feline friends, until those words were nothing more than drained rasps. Blood leaked from her neck and her body became limp.

“Ah, how unfortunate!” G.L. announced before anyone could open their mouths, whether in shock, remorse, or hidden delight. “But I have decided to throw you a bone, so to speak.”
“Tasty!” Hannibal jumped.

“Silence!” the G.L. jumped, glaring into the eyes of Hannibal.

“During the beginning of the night I will be naming individual letters at random intervals, over the course of forty minutes. It is your duty to retain these letters by memory or otherwise, and when finished, if you have them all, should spell out the name of a well known movie, that at least one of you originate from. Should you be the first to privately inform me of the correct answer, you will gain an advantage. You will be able to choose one person as your subject, they will either be trapped under your control, until they bend and give you what you want. This will occur in an undisclosed location during day three. More information will be given to the winner, on the arrival of their correct answer in my inbox.”

Mystified yet curious, Sakura’s brutal death left most of the minds in the room which instead drifted to winning the competition.
“Sounds interesting...” Mooxee said to himself, “an advantage would not go amiss.”

Dead:

Day 1: Michael Myers, Jblue, Vandal (innocent)
Night 1: Norman Bates, Annette, Villain 1A (villain)
- Ghostface, Elian, Insomniac (innocent)
Day 2: Dr. Evil, Sakura, Jekyll (innocent for now/third party)
Day 3 Morning Message

In his control room, G.L. held down a single button, and his voice was projected into one room.

“Congratulations, Meinaz!” he boomed, “you may now choose one person to send to The Pit, where they will either stay there, silent and powerless, until the middle of tomorrow, or until you are content with the information you have received from them.”

Meinaz leaped out of her bed in shock, clawing at her face in her sleep-induced stupor, until she remembered she was masked.
“What? Um, Lord Voldemort?” Meinaz said.

“Ah, very good! I’ll notify them shortly, and I’ll allow you to take control from there on,” G.L. spoke over the intercom, as he got up to begin the preparations.

The face of Lord Voldemort awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of grotesquely long finger nails tapping on his door.
“Hello, m’lord. Care to come out? I just want to have a little chat,” G.L. chimed, ominously. Frightened by the sadistic mind and twisted thoughts of G.L., the person under the mask of Voldemort wanted nothing more than to just pull the covers over their face and go back to a blissful sleep, where there are no dying friends. But alas, they knew there was little use in avoiding G.L. The face of Voldemort rose off of the bed and progressed towards the door, turning the knob ever so slowly, and cracked it open slightly. He was met with the demonic grin of G.L, but this was quickly concealed by a burlap sack, which was thrown roughly over Voldemort. Four hands dragged his body through winding hallways and unapologetically and repeatedly bumped him down countless sets of stairs. The sound that saw a cease to the carpet burns and likely bruises Voldemort was subject to was a rickety door opening, and the sack was jerked off of his head.

“Enjoy!” G.L. said as he tossed Voldemort’s stunned body into the Pit, and bits of broken glass and nails tore his clothing and pierced skin. Ignoring the pain in shock, Voldemort spun in a circle on the spot, examining the room, until his eyes focused on the silhouette of a figure sitting in a chair.

“Let’s have a little fun, shall we?”

* * *

G.L' s control room was one of practicality, yet comfort. Sited across from his thirty monitors and assorted buttons and microphones was a large corner sofa, which was littered with pieces of paper and notes concerning the game. A huge mounted television was pointed towards the leather sofa, and sat paused halfway through an episode of Bates' Motel. G.L. entered the room three bags of popcorn heavier (after the events of this evening, a restock was in order) and threw himself on to the sofa. Seconds before he resumed his braindead binge of all things Bates, Lawrence burst into the room.

"I need answers. Now."

"Ah, Lawrence, what a pleasant surprise! I figured I would be seeing you soon. Have you ever heard of a little game called Two Truths and a Lie?" the G.L. beamed in glee.

* * *

Lynn stepped out into the hallway. She knew after last night’s events that even in their shoes, the nights were dangerous, so she offered Maryclaire some sleep, and that she would go alone. She approached a door and looked up to the nameplate. Jigsaw. After much deliberation, Lynn and Maryclaire decided to take out whoever was under the façade of Jigsaw. She opened the door, shot inside and closed it again, ready for some sort of chaotic scene similar to last night. But the only chaotic thing in the room was the look in Lynn’s eyes as she drew the machete gifted to her by G.L. With one, smooth slice of the throat under the mask of Jigsaw, rich red blood spewed and splurted over the bedsheets as Lynn removed the unnerving mask, revealing the distorted, lifeless face of Johnny. She wrapped him in the bedsheets and carried him to the main door, setting his body beside Sakura’s, for even villains can feel remorse…

* * *

As the group awoke, as did the memories of Sakura’s death. Decided by such a narrow margin, and such a mistake. Day three would have to be different. As every guest stepped out into the hallway, each heard distraught commotion near the entrance. One by one, they made their way over and saw the helpless corpse of Johnny beside Sakura’s. The innocents were, quite literally, piling up. A villain needed to go.

“But why Johnny? He was nearly lynched yesterday!” cried Vito, who was either in a state of confusion trying to understand the crooked mind of a villain or an extremely capable actor.

“Regrettably, some things are better left forgotten,” Dr. No consoled Vito, “hidden away in drawers or locked in closets where memories can't escape and torture the living. Come now, let’s not focus on the dead but rather work on saving the living.”

Dead:

Day 1: Michael Myers, Jblue, Vandal (innocent)
Night 1: Norman Bates, Annette, Villain 1A (villain)
- Ghostface, Elian, Insomniac (innocent)
Day 2: Dr. Evil, Sakura, Jekyll (innocent for now/third party)
Night 2: Jigsaw, Johnny, No Role (innocent)

Day 3 Midday Message


Meinaz walked out from the door marked "The Pit" and retraced her steps down the winding hallway. G.L. watched her on the monitor labelled 29, remembering how light Voldemort felt with her helping to carry him. His attention turned to monitor one, where the main group (bar a few no-showers) were speculating. How he wished he could jump in and help them.

"Maryclaire has ten letters, so does Doctor Evil!" The Joker exclaimed, "quick, get him!"

"Too late," Vito said, solemnly, tapping Sakura's body with her foot, "She's as dead as she's going to get." Vito stared at Lecter and Dr. No, as a dog would when his territory is being compromised by two other canines.

Skidder held a piece of chalk he found, but it was now reduced to a stub. Eleven thousand, one hundred and fifty nine tallies were marked on the wall, and Skidder was ready to mark another. In his desperation and distress, he marked every minute he spent in the hell hole. Mad, yes. But not as mad as killing innocents left, right and centre. As G.L. filled his popcorn bowl yet again (his supplies were seriously depleted after the events in the pit) he wondered how many souls would truly make it out alive, if any?

Time Remaining until day end: 21 hours, 56 minutes

Day 4 Morning Message


Juliet floated through the door of the coffee shop and the bell chimed. She walked up to the counter and ordered a coffee from the waitress. She found a plush sofa and fell into it, but swiftly rose to her feet again when she saw Sakura come through the door and order a bowl of milk. They embraced, and it took away all the pain and hardship and suffering they experienced. Juliet wished it could last a lifetime, but they broke away when the waitress came, who was baffled by Sakura’s request for a bowl of milk.
“Wonderful!” she proclaimed as the waitress set the latte and milk on the table, and Sakura concurrently placed her two beloved cats on the table. The waitress wasn’t sure if this answered more questions than it created. As the felines lapped the milk, Sakura and Juliet engaged in conversation like two old friends.

“Just how did you get out of that awful place?!” Sakura asked, eagerly, “I wish I was as lucky as you.”

“I’m… not quite sure. What place? What are you talking about, Sakura?” Juliet responded, fear visible on her face.

The bell above the door chimed again as a man in a long trench coat and a fedora entered and sat on an aviator grey hepburn armchair.

“The mansion! Don’t you - “ Sakura’s words were cut short by a raging explosion that opened a gaping hole in the side of the coffee shop, and screams and cries were heard everywhere as tables and chairs were flew across the room. Juliet and Sakura were thrown of off their couch and Juliet’s head hit the floor with a tremendous thud. Rubble covered the room and Juliet pushed bricks, cement and plaster off of her body and squeezed through narrow gaps until she reached the top. The air was dust filled and hazy, and it invaded her lungs like some kind of disease.

Rasping and coughing, she managed to blurt out, “Sakura!”

Her temple felt cold and wet, she reached her hand up to her head and felt for blood, but none appeared. She was uninjured. She searched for Sakura among the rubble and found her, but her face was foggy, as if something was blurring her vision. Lights flicked violently, and Juliet looked up. The waitress’ face was familiar yet new to her. She span in circles in the room, and one face kept recurring, in Sakura, the waitress, the other patrons. Moxxee. Juliet tried to help Sakura to her feet, but as she bent down and reached her arm out, no one was at the other end. All colour drained from the room, and Juliet collapsed. She looked over to the door, and the man in the flowing trench coat and fedora hat stood, blocking the entrance. He smiled nefariously from ear to ear as the lights began to dim and the room span around Juliet. She saw the darkness swallow the room from the edges, and the power in the coffee shop kicked out just as Juliet’s heart gave it’s last beat, and her eyelids droped for the final time.

She lay in her bed, a gaping hole in the side of her head, where a bullet entered. She never finished that dream.

“Three, four, should’ve locked your door...” Mooxee chanted, spinning a pistol around his index finger and strolling out of the room, “they all deserve to die.”

The guests awoke again to the death of another friend. In a more undignified and discourteous manner than yesterday, the group found Juliet’s door wide open and her body sprawled across her bed. One could be forgiven for mistaking her for merely sleeping, if it wasn’t for the cavernous crater in the side of her head. As heads crowded round the door, the gasps and the sobbing grew louder, but faces of determination grew from the saddened, despaired expressions.

“We’re half way there. We need to keep going,” Skidder encouraged as Meinaz wrapped up Juliet’s body and Maryclaire carried her in the white, bloodstained sheets to the main door.

Dead:

Day 1: Michael Myers, Jblue, Vandal (innocent)
Night 1: Norman Bates, Annette, Villain 1A (villain)
- Ghostface, Elian, Insomniac (innocent)
Day 2: Dr. Evil, Sakura, Hyde (innocent for now/third party)
Night 2: Jigsaw, Johnny, No Role (innocent)
Day 3: Dr. No, Lynn, Villain 2B (villain)
Night 3: Freddy Krueger, Juliet, Jekyll (innocent)
Day 4 Evening Message

G.L. rubbed his head as he leaned back in his chair after a day of broken rules and wrongfully ousted villains. He called to mind a line he included in his invitation to the group:
G.L. is serious about his masks. If anyone under any circumstances hints at or reveals their identity, they will be punished according to the severity of the hint, as the point of the game is to keep anonymity as far as possible.

He believed it was time for this to come into effect. He sorrowfully eyed a menacing red button on his control panel, and with great regret, he shut his eyes painfully tight and pressed it with a clenched fist.

The mansion came to life. Walls slotted into the floor mechanically and every single guest room merged to form one frighteningly long room. The outer walls folded on themselves, revealing a second side covered in white clinical tiles. Tables covered in an array of brushes and thick globs of all different colours in jars were pushed up onto the floor by concealed trapdoors. Just as the group began to awake, straps automatically fastened their limbs to the beds a moment before they tried to jump out of bed, all in awe at their surroundings. Sheets were compacted into each bed and all that was left was a metal frame, like an operating table. G.L. solemnly glided in through a door and cast his eyes over the lengthy room, letting his gaze rest on each station that comprised of a player, a bed and a table for a moment.

“I’m sorry it had to come to this, I really am,” he moaned gravely, addressing the twelve figures lying in their beds-turned-operating-tables. Lance, under the mask of Hannibal, panted heavily, and began to push against the straps in an attempt to escape. Serrated spikes found themselves embedded in his calves, and he roared in pain.

“Now, now, Lance. Attempting to escape will bring much more pain than allowing me to make a few changes,” G.L. warned.

“What are you doing, you monster?” Jae’s voice asked, coming from under the mask of Vito Corleone.

“Just a redesign. Think of it like nuking your town,” G.L. answered.

Uproar ensued. Screams of “You can’t do this” and “Let us go” erupted from mouths from underneath masks but G.L. heard nothing. He proceeded to the first bed on the left with his headphones covering his ears, and he pulled a chair to Stephtog’s bed, picked up a delicate brush from the table, dabbed it in some white paint and began to whitewash the image of Jason Voorhees while music blasted in his ears. A fresh start. A clean slate (but it was a shame about the eight or so bodies piling up at his front door, it would be slightly harder to give them a fresh start). When he finished “redesigning” Jason’s mask he reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic bag of what appeared to be heavily modified dog collars.

He lifted Steph’s head and attached a collar around her neck. Two cold, metal rods rested on her neck.

“Now,” he proclaimed loudly, “each of you will be fitted with a collar, with a rather nasty electrical circuit embedded. These are programmed to pick up any hints, tells, or clues you may leave. When set off, they will send approximately 75ma coursing through your veins, so I would advise you avoid doing so. When activated, the collar usually…decommissions you for about two hours,” he informed them.

Hours passed and G.L. found himself at the other end of the room, and as he put the last stroke of paint on to the new mask of Mrs. Lovett and attached her collar, he was in quite the dilemma. Someone needed to die for the travesty of a ‘vote’ that occurred yesterday.
“Eenie, meenie, miney… mo!” G.L. exclaimed, pointing to a particular bed. He took a cloth and wiped away all the wet paint from the bed’s occupant’s mask, and discovered Darth Vader staring back at him, “Oh dear. How unfortunate. I apologise, Turkey,” he began as her eyes strained and she let out what G.L. assumed to be a scream, “ but let this be a warning to anyone who thinks they can reveal their now-hidden identity,” he said, raising his voice.

Under the music, G.L. faintly heard the rants and raves of other players as he wheeled Turkey’s bed to the front of the room, making a show of things, and slowly lifted the mask of her face, looking like he was almost caressing the disguise. He made Turkey’s crying eyes and her burning red cheeks visible to the group and wheeled her out of the room. When the door clicked shut gears and cogs whirred to life and the room divided itself up again, recreating twenty pristine bedrooms.

Dead:

Day 1: Michael Myers, Jblue, Vandal (innocent)
Night 1: Norman Bates, Annette, Villain 1A (villain)
- Ghostface, Elian, Insomniac (innocent)
Day 2: Dr. Evil, Sakura, Hyde (innocent for now/third party)
Night 2: Jigsaw, Johnny, No Role (innocent)
Day 3: Dr. No, Lynn, Villain 2B (villain)
Night 3: Freddy Krueger, Juliet, Jekyll (innocent)
Day 4: Darth Vader, Turkey, No Role (innocent)

Replies

This discussion has been closed.

Howdy, Stranger!

It looks like you're new here. If you want to get involved, click one of these buttons!