3000wordsandnolife

[3000wordsandnolife]

Countdown To Midnight- Chapter 7

And the first act is finished with this chapter. But wait, there’s still a loose plot thread!

Time: Sometime after midnight

 I sighed as I walked into my room, the stench of blood filling the air. Ray’s body had been moved to the freezer in the kitchen, as had Jim’s, but the smell still remained in the room, lingering like the ghost of the man himself. I wasn’t going to be able to stay in here tonight, partially because of the events and partially because of the lack of bedsheets that weren’t stained in blood. 

Luckily, I had somewhere else to go, due to rooms that had now become vacant, as well as all the other empty rooms that were in the hotel, as soon as the keys were found. As I had been leaving, Peter had given me the room key for Jim’s room, and as such, I could go use that room instead. Though I doubted I would use the bed, since it was also most likely tainted by the essence of a dead man, despite the fact that none of us had actually used our beds. Maybe it was just pickiness, but I wasn’t comfortable using the bed. The chair, however, would do fine, so I would just go to his room and use that. At the same time, I’d also be able to get the package back, ticking off another thing I was worrying about on my mental checklist, leaving me to only worry about the fact that someone wanted us to kill each other for reasons known only to himself. Grabbing my small suitcase and repacking it sloppily, I left 413, not bothering to close the door. I got to 505 shortly after, the room that Jim had been residing in. Obviously, the door was locked, so I used the keycard and it clicked unlocked. I still didn’t know how Ray had gotten into my room, but I wasn’t as worried as I had been. No one was going to check this room, apart from myself. I walked in, and was surprised by how immaculately kept it was, almost seeming as if no one had lived in the room at all, had it not been for the suitcase in the corner. But then again, it wasn’t out of the norm. He hadn’t been a killer when he walked into the hotel, he had just been a normal person, same as anyone else, until we had been put into this deadly situation of life and death. Well, anyone who wasn’t me, since my job description made my life anything but normal. Speaking of which… my eyes darted around the room, looking for the package, but nothing sprung out. It wasn’t here. But then, where was it? I looked at the bedside table, and saw the small card leaning against the lamp that was sat on top of it. I could see that the card said 209 on it, in a handwriting that was neat, and yet pretty in its simplicity. I think I knew where I had to go next, at least if I wanted to get back what was mine. Or what was going to get me money. Unlike before, I actually locked the door, hiding that I had even been in the room, and walked down the three flights of stairs to the second floor, wondering who had taken the package as I went. The list of suspects, honestly, wasn’t that high. So it didn’t surprise me, that when I knocked on the door of the room, Claire opened it, the package under her arm. “We need to talk.” She said simply, before pulling me into the room with her, closing the door quickly behind her.

 I wasn’t sure what caused her to be in such a rush, but I also knew that she had lied about me, so it was more likely that she didn’t want anyone to see us and have the truth come out. The last thing we would want would be a conspiracy of the two of us working together. I looked over at her table, and saw the gun that had once belonged to Jim before his head became a lot more aerodynamic and a lot less… useful. I didn’t know how she had acquired it, but I wasn’t going to ask questions that I most likely didn’t want the answers to. I just wanted the package back, and so I sat down in the chair, as she perched on the end of her bed, leaning forward slightly.

“Alright then. I guess I have a lot more of an explanation to give.” I said, sighing. While I didn’t want her to know too much, she had lied to protect me, and had saved my life. I owed her the truth, and I explained the true reason that I came to the hotel, telling her about Alan, and about how even I didn’t know what was inside the package. I did, however, leave certain things I’d been thinking out, including how nervous I was about being alone in a room with Claire, but not for the reason that would be expected in this sort of scenario. She listened intently, as if hanging on my every word, and I believed that she was. I finished up, and she straightened out, sitting up. She still had the package, and idly moved it between her hands. She looked down at it a few times, examining every side and corner it had. The package itself was quite unremarkable, brown cardboard folded up and taped down, but whatever was inside, it was taking up the entire box. I hadn’t felt anything moving inside when I had held it in my own hands previously, but it was too heavy to be empty. Once again, I wondered what was inside.

“I believe you.” She said finally, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had been lingering since I had stopped talking. “I think you’re absolutely insane, and that I would never work for someone like him, but I genuinely believe you’re telling me the truth.” She paused, and looked up at me a sceptical expression on her face. “Well, apart from that whole being shot thing. That just seems way too fanciful and distanced from the truth.” I did nothing as she said this, except stand up and lift my t-shirt slightly, revealing the pad that was underneath. It hadn’t been in pain in a long time, but I was certain that it’d need some sort of proper medical attention eventually.

“I can take this off if you want more proof.” I said, gesturing to the pad. It would be uncomfortable, but I imagine it wouldn’t bleed, so to prove it, it wouldn’t be too bad. In fact, I felt as if I’d been wearing it for a lot longer than I had needed to.

“Take off what, the pad or your shirt?” Claire said, smirking a familiar smirk as she raised an eyebrow. I put the shirt back down, ignoring her flirtatious remark. “Guess there’s always time for that later.” She said under her breath, which I again ignored, shrugging it off as one of her strange quirks.

“So what now?” I asked. She snapped back to focus, and held out the package to me. I reached out to take it, and she pulled it back gently, leaving it just out of my grasp. Whatever was about to come next, she wanted control, and I didn’t blame her. Part of me wanted to take it and hide it before anyone else stole it.

“We open it, and find out what was so important.” She said firmly, her face set in an expression of determination. She was right to want to open it, of course. The first murder had been about this, whether people knew it or not. She placed the package down on the bed, and I sat on the opposite side of it. While it had been my job to not open the box, I think this was out of the job description anyway. So why not go for broke? My curiosity would be sated, and I’d find out what was apparently so dangerous that Jim would kill for it. Tentatively, Claire fiddled with the side of the box, peeling away the duct tape that was holding down the cardboard. She slid the cardboard up, and turned the box upside down, emptying the contents onto the bed.

 I don’t think I would have ever expected to see what I had seen in my life. I had kept myself as clean as possible while outside of the law, making sure I was nothing more than an errand girl, responsible for nothing more than a few injured people. This had clearly been why I was chosen for this, since I was definitely the least likely to have something such as this. And I certainly wouldn’t have agreed to do this if I’d known exactly what I had been doing, but then again, hindsight is 20/20. The tightly wrapped bundles hit the bed, and while I had never seen it personally before, I knew what cocaine looked like when I saw it, the clear packaging held together by brown duct tape. It was the stereotypical look. Clare exclaimed, unable to make anything more than just a sound of shock, while I just sat there, unable to process what I was seeing, since my god, it was impossible! But clearly, it wasn’t at all. For a moment, the two of us were fixated on the pile of drugs on the bed, struggling to believe that we were actually seeing what we were seeing. “Fucking hell.” Claire said, summing up my feelings in two words. “I guess that explains the whole incredibly dangerous thing.” She picked up one of the bundles, testing its weight in her hand. “This has to be worth a shitload of money. No wonder your boss wanted it done discretely.” She was right, of course. It had begun to make sense now, and after assessing how much was there, it was definitely not only incredibly illegal, it was an incredibly large sum of money, and would probably gain the attention of a lot of people. I wondered what would have happened if I had never opened the box, and if the package had just been delivered as Alan had intended. I would have most likely been responsible for the dealing of a lot of cocaine, while at the same time being completely unaware of what I was doing. I would have also been completely unaware of how little money Alan had given me for something as big as this, which really shouldn’t have been my concern, but then again, I never had my priorities straight anyway. Claire slid one of the bundles back into the box, and then continued to put them away, resealing the box when she finished. I sat there in silence as she did so, still slightly stunned by the events, and it was only when she spoke up again that I focused myself and returned to reality, escaping from the confines of my thoughts. “So what now?” She echoed my previous question, having put the box to one side, out of reach of both of us. It was a very good question. What exactly did one do when confronted with a revelation such as this? The way I saw it, I had three choices. One, I could continue on as I would normally, ignoring the way I had been affected by the fact, and eventually hand the package over, doomed to repeat the monotony that I had begun a long time prior. Two, I could demand more money and freedom from Alan, hide myself away and start anew, escaping from both my past and my enemies, however many there may be. Or three, I could do what I should have done as soon as I saw what was inside the package, and get rid of it, saving some poor kid from his equally poor judgement in the future. None of these, however, mattered now, which was what Claire was asking about. Again, I was unsure. I had just seen two people die today, and my only choices for rooms were either one that someone had been murdered in or one that the aforementioned murderer had been in, even though he hadn’t actually slept in it, a fact that had only just occurred to me. Still, the idea didn’t really appeal. I sighed, feeling my whole body slouch. The problems of my future faded, as my mind returned to the horrors that I had witnessed. Someone had killed someone else just to stay alive, and there was the chance that that could happen again. Plus, Ray had shown that it was easy to get into other people’s rooms, making me feel even less safe by myself. I turned myself to Claire, who was looking at me, her head tilted to the side as she awaited my answer.

“Can I sleep in your armchair? I really don’t like the idea of using any of the other free rooms.” I said. This wasn’t the only reason, but I wasn’t about to tell her that I was afraid for my life and she was one of the few people that I didn’t think would murder me. I felt as if I’d done enough brave things today. She looked down at her lap for a second, and then back up, with a sheepish expression.

“Actually, about that.” She said, before moving slightly closer, budging over on the bed. Her hand was almost touching my own, and I could have sworn that for the first time, she had almost seemed embarrassed. Suddenly, I was hyperaware of our surroundings, but there was nothing to focus on that could distract me from how close to each other we were. “You know… how I’ve been kinda… saying weird things? You know, things that could be seen as… flirting?” She asked. I had indeed noticed this, but had put it behind me, choosing to instead focus on more important matters. However, thinking back on it, it had been a lot more than casual. “After everything that happened today… I kinda… don’t want to be alone either.” She said, taking a long time to speak. It took a moment for me to decide how to respond, but I realised, after a moment, that we were both in the same boat. We were scared for our lives and in the presence of someone we felt we could trust, and someone that we were relying on. She was relying on me for comfort, and I was relying on her to keep my secrets safe. I moved my hand onto hers, and she looked up at me, her eyes widened slightly, as if she was expecting a different response. It was as if when she needed it the most, she couldn’t use her experience to get a read on me. I wasn’t sure what exactly I was feeling. Though I had seen her before, it was as if I was looking at her in a new light. It occurred to me that I hadn’t really seen her when she hadn’t either acted overly intelligent or overly cocky, and that right now, I was looking at the real her. Someone who was just like me, who hid themselves behind a guise of being someone they aren’t just to benefit themselves, though her reasons were probably very different to my own. Nonetheless, she was quite similar to me, and it was probably that that had drawn us together.

I couldn’t keep track of how long passed after it had happened. Hell, I barely remember anything that had happened at all in that window of time we spent together. I’m not quite sure what had come over me in that moment, but for a brief time, all I wanted was her, like she was the only thing in the world that mattered, and like there hadn’t been two deaths, one of which she was responsible for. It was strange, as if a switch had been flicked in my head, turning my attention away from focusing on survival, and giving myself up to my emotions, a combination of fear, loneliness and the need to have someone, anyone, that I could be close to, no matter how short that time lasted. I had barely considered it before this moment, but now she was all I was focused on. Her breath, her body against my own, pushing me forcefully against the bed. It was nowhere near my first time, and yet there was something about it that just appealed to me, as if the situation only added to how good it was. It felt like too soon that it was over, and I felt myself longing for more, something I knew wouldn’t happen. We laid there afterwards in each other’s embrace, which, as she slept, soon fell apart, her arms moving off me as she turned around. I laid there in silence, staring at the ceiling and hearing Claire’s gentle breathing from next to me as she slept. My mind was buzzing too much to let me sleep, however, and as a result I was resisting the urge to get up and walk around, or go down to the lobby and try and find another way out, or do something else to distract myself from my thoughts. The last thing I would want would be to add to the death toll, which might have seemed irrational had it not already happened. I turned myself to face Claire, who was still sleeping soundly, as she had been for a while. I’d been in relationships before, sure, but there was something about this that was different, most likely stemming from the fact that we had come together after such a harrowing ordeal. I couldn’t even tell if this was a one-night thing or if she actually had feelings for me. The latter would be weird, considering we’ve known each other for a day at most, but I wouldn’t be against it. I mean, she was funny, smart, attractive, and all kinds of fun and crazy, if a little insecure about herself, shown by the way she hid her true personality from me, as I had. That’s probably how she could tell I was lying from the start, since she’s done it almost as much as I have, if not more. As I listed these things in my head to myself, I realised that I had indeed developed feelings for her. How I had managed to do it this quickly was beyond me, and I had my doubts that it was actually anything more than just a combination of adrenaline and fear that had caused us to be in this scenario. And yet… I didn’t care. I was content to just ride this out and see what happened, no matter how bad it could end up getting. And in this case, it could end up getting pretty bad, but I doubted it would be anything that would actually stop me. I turned over and closed my eyes, letting the ticking of the clock attempt to lull me into a gentle sleep. Which didn’t work, of course. I wasn’t comfortable. With anything. Everything felt weird, and nothing I did helped. I turned myself back over, facing Claire again, who had her eyes slightly open, tiredness in them. I opened my mouth to speak, and her finger was on my lips. Her finger was soon replaced with her own lips, and her arm was around me again, pulling me close to her. I wasn’t sure how long it took, but eventually, I managed to fall into a dreamless sleep.

[3000wordsandnolife]

Go follow the better person

My BFF For LIFE has finally made her Tumblr. She doesn’t have any art yet but there will be stuff soon:

https://ic4rm.tumblr.com/

[3000wordsandnolife]

Countdown To Midnight- Chapter 6

It’s all coming to a head!

Time: 11:30

 Everyone looked nervous as they sat patiently at the tables in the dining room, which wasn’t much of a surprise considering they were in a room with a murderer, or was the murderer that was about to be outed as being the murderer. Claire sat at the bar, next to the laptop, and idly tapped the back of her foot against the counter, as if waiting. She glanced at the laptop, and, seemingly deciding against waiting any longer, stood up and walked over to me, holding an empty wine glass in her hand.

“You ready for this?” She asked, putting her hand on my shoulder. I looked at her, and I knew we could both see the nervousness that the other was feeling. No matter what I felt, it wasn’t time to fuck around anymore. I had been given the general gist of what I needed to talk about, so I was as ready as I was ever going to be. I nodded, and she turned to the group, tapping on the wine glass with a spoon she produced from her pocket. Everyone’s eyes went to us, and we prepared ourselves. I stepped forward, as the first person to speak.

“Ladies and gentlemen, tonight, there was a tragedy. We lost the life of Ray Wendell, something that we can’t overlook no matter how much we need to focus on finding out who did it. Though a majority of us didn’t know him, we can safely say for certain that the person who killed him is a murderous scumbag, and he deserves what’s coming.” I let my words fly free, without my usual filter. I realised as I said them that I was angry. Incredibly angry. Not just at the mastermind, I was angry at my life as a whole, including the people like Alan, and some of the people in this very hotel, who had killed someone in cold blood for their own twisted purposes. I had to hold myself back from becoming too emotional, but thankfully, Claire took over, as I stepped back to let her speak.

“After some deliberation, we feel like the best solution for the problem of finding out who it was would be to discuss as much as possible, and to come to a unanimous decision, or as close as we can get. Therefore, we are going to present the evidence that possibly leads to who it was that killed Ray Wendell.” Claire said, preparing the small, but substantial, amount of evidence we’d found. Everyone’s focus was on us, and I looked at them, watching their reactions. Jane was looking right back at me, waiting expectantly, as if judging us, trying to see how we had come up with an outcome. Aaron and Den were looking on with sad expressions, most likely thinking about the young man’s life that had been cut short. Melvin was watching Claire with a weird mix of admiration and disapproval, as if he didn’t want her to be risking her life by investigating, but was glad that she was actually getting somewhere at the same time. He must have been a father figure to her, and as a result wanted her to both be safe and great. Peter looked blankly into space, absorbing our words, which reminded me that I needed to step back forward and begin talking again.

“First off, the crime scene itself. The crime took place in my room, 413, a floor that Ray didn’t reside upon. As a result, we can only assume there was some kind of message that he wanted to give me, the reason for which I don’t know.” I began. “However, I do have the message itself.” I took out the paper, unfolding it and showing it to the group, who looked at it in awe. It was quite a sight, actually. It was such a simple object, and yet the context made everyone watch it as if it was gold. “Unfortunately, the message written on it was covered in blood during the scuffle in the room.” I finished, putting it away again.

“Which would all be well and good, except for one small detail.” Claire spoke up, drawing everyone’s attention to her. I had to say, she had a knack for keeping people enthralled. It felt as if we were putting on a stage-play, except with grim ties to reality. “There wasn’t any sort of fight, proven by one simple piece of evidence. The camera footage, which shows Ray and another person, who hasn’t been identified yet, entering the room. In that video, we can clearly hear the footsteps of Rose going down the stairs to meet Jenny and Jane, and yet the sound of the scuffle itself was inaudible, even with the door open.” Claire looked over the group, watching their moments of realisation with some sort of grim satisfaction.

“On top of this, the killer was a professional, something to remember for later. He avoided all the cameras, except for the one that he couldn’t possibly avoid, and knew exactly what he’d need to hide.” I said, bringing the attention back to me. “Which leads me to you.” I said firmly, pointing at Frank. I didn’t think it was him, but this was apparently the sort of thing that we were supposed to do, at least according to Claire, and I wasn’t about to argue. He squirmed in fear, panicking as everyone looked at him.

“What are you talking about?!I didn’t kill Ray!” He exclaimed wildly, his eyes bulging and his entire body quivering in fear. “No, but you were the one who knew the most about him. If I’m right in thinking, you were the one to give him the black and gold pen.” Claire said, as he nodded fearfully in agreement. “At first, I thought it had been a red herring, but it turns out to be a lot simpler than that. It was just because of the value of the object.” Claire paused, causing myself and everyone else to wonder what she was talking about. We were verging into territory that I didn’t know about, so I was with everyone else with the confusion. “That gold was real, wasn’t it?” She asked him, and he nodded solemnly.

“It was a gift. We’d known each other for so long, I decided to-” Before Frank could continue, Claire cut him off.

“Not to burst your bubble, but no one really cares. We’re focusing on finding the killer, not the backstory.” Claire said harshly, and I could feel myself recoil slightly. It was a little too mean, and she clearly realised this herself as she continued. “If we don’t find out who did this, then it’ll all be for nothing. We need to stay focused.” She put her attention back to the entire group, speaking to everyone instead of just Frank. “So we can eliminate a few people, judging from this little piece of information. Valos and Laiperd, for one, as they’re quite well off. Valentine, Hemsin and Erics are also out, as the former was a huge activist, and the latter two are actors, which surprisingly enough, pays well. So we’re down to four suspects without alibis.” Claire finished. I was surprised at how quickly that we had rounded down the numbers, but thinking back, a lot of people had alibis from the start. Myself, Jane and Jenny were all together at the time of the crime, as was Claire, Melvin and Peter. “Well, four if you count Frank, but honestly, if you think he could kill anyone, you’re sorely mistaken.” Claire added, causing Frank to whimper more. It was kinda sad to watch, so I instead focused on the suspects. “We have Jim Jameson, Edward Buckley and Annie Michelle. Our three suspects. I’m actually impressed with how quick that was to narrow down.” Before we could have continued, Peter spoke up from where he was sitting at the front, near us.

“Hold on, isn’t there a possibility that the pen’s gold lining isn’t actually a motive? You’ve said that you thought it was a red herring at one point, but maybe it still is!” He brought up, as the group murmured in agreement. “I’d say that if you were going to try and narrow it down, we should go for the most solid piece of evidence, which is the aforementioned professionality of the killer. Obviously not including those who have solid motives, I feel as if there’s only one possible suspect who could have pulled off something like this.” Peter added, and everyone waited in anticipation, watching him. “Of course, I wouldn’t want to ruin this show you’re putting on, so why don’t you continue?” He sat back and watched us, smiling innocently. I looked over everyone for what felt like the hundredth time, calculating each of their abilities. Aaron and Den didn’t seem like they had the best spatial awareness, so avoiding cameras didn’t seem as if it was intended, if it was one of them. Amanda definitely wasn’t the killer, simply because of her body type, which was way too short to be the killer. I looked at Keith once, and then again, trying to figure out if it could be him, and nothing was coming to mind that suggested it wasn’t, except for the glaring problem of motive. Could it have just been because of the time limit? No, it didn’t seem right. Why would he have gone to my room?

Wait.

Why did the killer go to my room?!

 “Claire!” I said loudly, my sudden shock evident, as she turned to me, matching my wide-eyed expression that I was sure I had on my face. “Looking over motives, we forgot something big. We figured out why Ray had gone to my room, right?” I asked. Claire nodded, pointing to the pocket that held the note.

“Yeah. He wanted to give you the note.” She said, telling me what I already knew. I took a breath before continuing. “Where did the killer’s motive to go to my room come from?” I asked, and Claire opened her mouth to respond. There was a moment of silence, as she thought, and while her mouth remained open, this time it was in shock, as the realization that we had been focusing on the wrong point hit us. Claire turned to Frank, who shrunk down in his chair, trying to avoid her stare.

“Frank, who did Ray talk to about going to Rose’s room?” Claire asked, and Frank gulped, glancing at the rest of the group. It was obvious he knew… but at the same time, whoever the killer was, they were in the room with us. The danger of the situation hit me in full-force, and I knew I had to work out who the killer was myself, because Frank was never going to say anything. As I went over everything in my mind, mentally making connections between events and evidence, I eliminated everyone one by one. Frank had no motive to kill Ray, especially considering the two were working together and he could have easily killed him somewhere else. The actor duo wouldn’t have been able to avoid the cameras, and neither would Natalie. Keith wasn’t going to have been able to go anywhere without Laiperd following him, something that should have stood out from the beginning. Edward and Annie didn’t seem as if they’d have the mobility, and Valentine didn’t have the body type. That just left…

“Hold on, are you really telling me that the only thing we have to go on here is a missing notepad and a missing pen? That’s easily solved!” Jim said out loud, causing everyone to turn to him. “It’s Frank! He was the one who knew where Ray would have gone, he was the one who took the pen and the notebook to hide the evidence, and the only reason he’s so scared is because we’re close to calling him out!” As Jim said this, and Frank prepared to respond, fright in his eyes, the clock in the room went off. It was midnight. We had survived. The first day wasn’t over, though. “The only reason there wasn’t a scuffle was because Ray expected Frank to show up! They had probably pre-discussed it, so that’s why he knew!” As Frank and Jim argued, Peter beckoned me over, and I met him at his table.

“You heard it too, right?” He asked with a smirk. “The nail in the coffin. You’d figured it out, hadn’t you?” Peter had seen that I’d realised who the killer had been, and I glanced up. Jim was definitely the killer. I just needed to be able to prove it, and right now he was certainly providing a convincing argument. If I hadn’t already come to the conclusion of him being the murderer, I might have actually believed him. I turned back to Peter, who was also watching them, like a child would watch a balloon slowly deflating. In that moment, I wondered what his job was, as he seemed accustomed to this environment.

“Can you be ready to stop him?” I asked, and he nodded firmly.

“I’ll move myself as close as I can get without anyone noticing. Should he brandish a weapon, which, let’s be honest, wouldn’t be surprising, I’ll try and take him down.” He said, and I moved away from him, watching him from the corner of my eye as he moved, unseen by everyone else as they watched the argument go down.

“If Frank was the killer, explain why he chose to do it in Rose’s room!” Claire exclaimed, having sided with him. I walked into the conversation, glancing between the two sides. Jim was on his own, but he was putting up a convincing argument.

“To frame someone else, obviously! Trust me, I’ve seen it loads of times before where a criminal will go to numerous lengths to make it seem as if it was someone else, but will forget one of the simplest things, or overlook a tiny piece of evidence!” Jim said back, looking over at Frank angrily.

“Well you see, that’s where you’re wrong.” I said simply, pointing at him. He looked up at me. “Well, not exactly wrong, but more… too right.” I added, thinking back to his previous words. They made sense, but at the same time, it was as if they made too much sense, as if he had known things he shouldn’t. One particular line stood out in my mind. “You said about overlooking things. Would that include overlooking the fact that a piece of evidence hadn’t been revealed yet?” I asked, smiling innocently at him. He flustered angrily, unable to find the words to respond.

“I never- how dare you! The only evidence I mentioned was what we already knew about! The missing pen and the missing notebook!” Jim said. Gotcha.

“Except the notebook was never brought up by anyone other than yourself.” I said, causing both Jim and Claire to do a double take, in a highly amusing fashion. The former looked around, as the rest of the group came to the same realization that I had come to a few minutes prior, while Claire darted her gaze between myself and Jim. It had been the one thing he’d overlooked, and it was indeed the nail in the coffin that Peter had mentioned. Jim was screwed, and he only had himself to blame.

“Not to mention that you suddenly began referring to Ray by his first name, as well as the professionality that was displayed.” Claire said, watching him to make sure he didn’t make any sort of movement in an attempt to escape. “You went into the room because you knew that’s where Ray would be, you killed him, hid the note under the blood, took the pen and the notebook and left.” I noticed that as she stated the events of the murder, she left out any mention of the package, which I was thankful for. “Let’s face it, you messed up.” She said finally. In a split second, the weapon was drawn, and I found myself staring down the barrel of a gun, once again feeling the sense of dread that seeing one of these gave me. I was reminded of the pain of my side when I had been shot there, and the only thought that ran through my mind is that at least I probably wouldn’t end up feeling the experience tenfold if it rattled through my brain, since I’d die almost instantly. I was glad I had something to rely on for comfort, at least. I glanced at everyone, and no one moved a muscle, not even Peter, who was close enough to interact with Jim, but most likely couldn’t, either because of his own fear, or, more likely, because any movement of his hand could cause Jim’s gun to fire, and that would end up being the death of me.

“It’s past midnight. If I kill Rose, we get another day. And trust me, she’s lying to all of you. She doesn’t deserve to live.” Jim’s words dripped with anger, and a feeling of coldness and detachment. I wondered if Ray had been the first person he’d killed. “If you didn’t know, there was a package, one that I took. Left here by someone you wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of.” To my horror, I realised that Jim, for whatever reason, knew who Alan was. But how? “Whatever’s in there, it’s probably illegal, and most definitely dangerous. Harvey here is a liar, something we knew from the start. Her job, which she failed to state, caused her to come here and act like an idiot, or so she claimed. Who knows what else she’s lied about?” I looked at people’s faces, and immediately knew that people were beginning to believe Jim. I had to think fast, before…

“Actually, the only liar here is you.” Peter spoke up, and Jim whipped his head round. “Rose Harvey, like myself, is a private investigator. We were tipped off to suspicious activity involving the Ruxford, and as a result, came here separately in order to find out as much information we could.” Peter’s lies flowed fluently, and I knew that he was as accustomed to doing this as I was. What I didn’t know, however, is why he was lying for me. “On top of that, there was no package. You took only the notebook and the pen, nothing more.” Claire added, and I turned to her, as did Jim. Both of them were lying for me, but they had nothing to gain from it. Whatever doubts people had about Jim were gone, and everyone knew that he was the villain again. His hand wobbled slightly, as he begun to turn to everyone, trying to get them to believe him. And that was Peter’s cue. He leaped up suddenly, colliding with Jim’s arm forcefully, causing it to jerk to the side. I dived to the side, and I heard the crack of the gun as it went off, barely missing my face. The ringing in my ears made me worry about tinnitus, and I crashed into the ground, watching as Jim and Peter struggled with each other, punching and kicking. I couldn’t hear anything but ringing, but I could see Claire pick up the gun before anyone else could, and level it, aiming at Jim with a steady hand. Peter kicked Jim back as he saw this, and Jim stumbled, unsteady on his feet. The second shot fired out, and Jim’s head whipped to the side forcefully, Claire’s shot being a dead-aim, quite literally. He fell to the ground, landing on his side, and the slowly-spreading pool of blood confirmed that Jim Jameson was quite dead. Claire dropped the gun, shaking, and Peter moved over to Jim’s corpse, examining it. Eventually, he produced the notebook and the pen from inside the jacket that Jim had been wearing, and handed them to me. I took the notebook, slid the bloody note into it, and put it away in my own jacket. I then turned to Frank, who was still cowering in his chair, but was also looking at Jim, who hadn’t moved from where he was, being dead and all. I held the pen out to him.

“I think you should have this. Something to remember him by.” I said, smiling sadly at him. Frank took it with a shaking hand, and tucked it into his shirt pocket. He then moved the fastest I’d ever seen him move, locking me into a hug, something that made me very uncomfortable, but I wasn’t about to shun him, considering everything. He pulled away, smiling gratefully with tears in his eyes, and I patted his shoulder, not sure of much else I could do. There had been two deaths in the span of five hours, and I only felt tired.

[3000wordsandnolife]

[3000wordsandnolife]

Countdown To Midnight- Chapter Five

Oh shit, I’m getting hype for updating this every week. Chapter Nine is being written, and I have plans for up to Chapter Fourteen so far. On the downside I have very little money, so that isn’t fun.

Time: 10:30

 Claire angrily hit the computer, causing the screen to jutter slightly, but still display nothing. It had been this way since she had begun interacting with it, the footage not being missing, just difficult to reach.

“How the hell did they manage to go this long with such a wank security system?” She uttered, her words becoming considerably more British the angrier she got. Some of the words she used didn’t even seem as if they were in the right place, but I wasn’t about to question her dialect, since I knew where they were meant to go even less than she did.

“I’ve got no clue.” I said, sighing as I leaned back against the wall. “I’m guessing the cameras won’t be any help then?” I asked, looking down at her, as she crawled around under the desk, cables sprawling out over her legs. My twisted mind envisioned a remake of the scene from Evil Dead with the trees being replaced by cables, which I quickly banished back into the messed-up part of my psyche. Now was not the time to be thinking about weird shit like that.

“Not necessarily, but it’s probably going to take me about ten minutes.” She pulled herself slightly out, sitting up as far as she could as the cables tangled around her would let her. “Perfect time for us to chat!” She said, mock-enthusiastically, and I laughed, as she began messing with the computer some more, occasionally swearing at it. There was a moment of silence between the two of us, before she spoke up again. “So what was taken then?” She asked, catching me off guard slightly. I wasn’t surprised that she had known, but it still was a mild inconvenience to me. I considered lying to her, but I knew that she could tell, so I instead opted to only give her select information.

“It’s a package for my job. I was sent here to retrieve it.” I confessed. “Don’t ask why it couldn’t just be directly delivered, because I’ve no idea.” I clarified. She shuffled around, her face breaking into a smile as the computer began to work. This was short-lived, however, as it quickly began to display numerous error messages. She used a lot of expletives, some of which I hadn’t even heard, before she responded.

“What was in it?” She asked me, pressing further, most likely to distract her from the fact that she was getting nowhere. I shrugged, and she seemed to take that as enough of an answer. There was more silence, interrupted only by her typing. Her short-rimmed glasses reflected the screen, her expression fixed into one of determination. I was considering speaking up, if only to break the silence, when she spoke again. “So you got a boyfriend?” She asked, quite nonchalantly, as if we were just two friends drinking in a bar instead of two prisoners hunting down a murderer. I was taken aback, and it took me a moment for me to find my voice and respond.

“Uh… no?” I said, as if it was a test. She didn’t glance up at me, but smirked slightly, evidently pleased with the response. Her expression worried me, as did a lot of her actions, actually.

“I see. Girlfriend?” Her typing felt as if it was echoing around the room, and I felt my face get hot at her questioning. I was beginning to wish that I was being interrogated about the murder instead.

“No… why are you asking, you interested or something?” I blurted out, before I could stop myself. She stopped typing for a second, and looked up at me with a sly grin, one of her eyebrows raised, as if I was challenging her. I swore I could feel my face becoming more flushed as she stared at me, and I had to look away from her before her eyes pierced my soul any further than they already had.

“Maybe. Depends on if you’re a killer or not.” She replied, turning her attention back to the computer. “Which we may never find out if this damn computer doesn’t work.” She added, hitting it again. Once again, as it had before, nothing happened. “I mean, I already know I’m not a killer, and so do you, apparently.” I pointed out, remembering our earlier conversation. She nodded in agreement, her fingers buzzing around the keyboard. “Well then I guess it’s-” Before she could finish her sentence, the computer whirred to life, the clearly ancient technology only just managing to display numerous files. I had my doubts that they’d even show anything, but Claire clicked on one of them, opening it up. Seemingly finding nothing, she skimmed through them, until she stopped on one. Looking at the screen, I saw that it was the camera for outside of the room. I wasn’t sure if there were cameras in the rooms, but I wouldn’t have wanted to see the murder either way. The timestamp in the corner showed that it was earlier today, at 9:25. Nothing was happening, but when I began to speak up, Claire raised a finger, indicating for me to wait. Her intuition proved fruitful, as a few minutes later, I saw Ray appear on the screen. He walked up to my room, failing to hide his nervousness. Not that he needed to, since he wasn’t putting on a show. In fact, he clearly didn’t want to be seen at all. He glanced left and right, confirming that no one was looking, and then began to interact with my door’s lock. I couldn’t see exactly what he was doing because of the camera angle, but the door quickly swung open, removing all preconceptions I had about the safety of the rooms. Now I was going to have to barricade the doors with a bookshelf or something. He walked in, and for a while, there was nothing displayed. There was then a rhythmic sound of very familiar sounding footsteps, and I realised in horror that they were my own, as I was walking down each flight of stairs. I hadn’t realised how close I had been to this whole scenario, and it chilled me to my core. Turning my attention back to the screen, I saw another person. Unlike Ray, the person was wearing a hooded jacket, hiding their features. I couldn’t narrow down the suspects from the body, and before I had had enough time to examine them properly, they walked into my room. A few moments later, they walked back out, a slight amount of blood on their hoodie and the package underarm. They disappeared off the camera, and Claire began to switch through the other cameras, trying to find them, but it was clearly fruitless. Whoever the killer was had managed to easily avoid the cameras. Claire eventually gave up flicking through them, and turned it off with a sigh. “I guess there wasn’t much there to go off after all.” She said. There was a moment of silence where I considered saying something, but before I could, she looked up, deep in thought. “Actually…” She began. Before I could ask, she jumped up triumphantly, a grin spreading across her face. “Hah! I knew there had been something wrong with the scene!” She said, before smoothly untangling herself and walking out. I paced after her, wondering what she had found out. “What was wrong? I didn’t see anything when I looked.” I said, before remembering that I had my doubts when I had looked around.

“Did you not notice that there was too much blood outside of the body?” Claire asked, as we began walking back up the stairs. I remembered my observation, and the crazy blood-spinning theory. “This guy avoided the cameras, except the ones he absolutely couldn’t avoid. Someone acting as professional as this wouldn’t get into a scuffle. They’d quickly dispatch Ray, and then leave with whatever they had gone for.” I wasn’t sure what Claire’s point was, but I continued listening, eager to find out where she was going. “Think about it. We heard your footsteps, didn’t we? Then how come we didn’t hear any fighting?” As Claire pointed this out, I tried to come up with a valid reason, but nothing came to mind. She had a point, something that gave me hope as we arrived back onto the fourth floor, walking over to the door that Jim was guarding. “The killer didn’t actually struggle with the body, the crime scene was tampered with to suggest a fight in order to hide something, and the killer’s given away their professionalism! Damn, I’m good!” Claire exclaimed, pumping her fist, a motion that I didn’t expect from someone who had seemed so nerdy previously. “Good to see you’re so chipper when there’s a murderer running around.” Jim said sarcastically, watching the two of us with an expression that reminded me of a bulldog chewing a wasp, which in itself was an expression that was quite unusual, and not very appealing. Claire tried to get past him, but he stopped her, stretching an arm across the doorframe and using his bulky body to block most of it. “What exactly are you trying to do?” He asked, looking at us with a glare. He was clearly attempting to be intimidating, but Claire refused to have any of his particular brand of bullshit, squaring up to him as best as she could, though she was quite smaller than he was.

“Investigation. You know, that thing you’re not doing even though it’s your profession.” Claire said, causing him to scowl at her further. It was as if he was trying to one-up himself every time something pissed him off, and pretty much everything pissed him off. “Anyway, I’m going through.” She tried to go underneath him, but her arm was grabbed by Jim, causing her to get pulled back slightly, but forcefully. If I had blinked, it would have looked as if he had just disappeared. As it was, I barely registered Claire’s movement until after it had happened, as she put her weight into tossing Jim over her shoulder, causing him to land on the ground with a crash. Before he could get back up, Claire had knelt on his back and grabbed arms, pinning him to the ground.

“Holy shit.” I said, doing nothing but staring. She was quite petite, so it was surprising that she had enough strength to take down someone as bulky as Jim. She hid her skill behind a guise of bookishness quite well.

“Go find what’s hidden. I’ll keep Jim occupied.” Claire said, holding him down as he struggled. Obliging, I walked in to my room. Ray’s body had been covered up with my bedsheets, which was a relief. I knew he was still there though, so I had to look around quickly. Not that there was any danger, it just made me uncomfortable to be in the same room as a corpse. I looked around the room again. Now that I was looking at it as if the room had been purposefully overturned, a lot of things made more sense. The overturned table with the clock facing directly outwards, the blood on so many surfaces. I looked at them with more detail, trying to figure out exactly why there was so much. I had checked every pool, and was almost about to call it a lost cause when I saw a speck of white amongst the blossomed flower of blood on the floor. I leaned in closer, observing the foreign object, and slowly reached out, and plucked it from the blood. It was a scrap of paper, with some writing on it. However, the blood had stained the paper, making the writing illegible. Swearing under my breath, I looked up as Claire walked in, her hair a mess. “Great, you found something. What’s on it?” She asked, walking up to me. I handed it over to her, and she turned it around.

“No idea. Looks as if this is a lost cause too.” I sighed. It was seeming as if most of the trails were ending up as lost causes at this point. “What happened to Jim?” I asked, and she glanced at the doorway, as if expecting him to burst in on cue like some sort of fat, unfunny Beetlejuice. When nothing came through the doorway, she turned her attention back to me.

“Handcuffed him.” She said simply, before carefully folding the piece of paper. “Do you want to keep this, or should I?” She asked me, offering it out to me.

“Why should it matter?” I asked, looking down at it. Without the writing that was on it, it was nothing more than a blood-rag, and it wasn’t even a good one at that. It seemed like a piece of useless junk.

“It was obviously written to you. Ray was trying to tell you something, but whatever it was, I’ve no idea.” Claire pointed out, and I looked down at it again, seeing it in a new light. What was once a piece of junk was now possibly some sort of warning. What could have been so important that it cost Ray his life? I took it from her hands, and tucked it into the inner breast pocket of my jacket. I glanced around the room again, trying to make sure I hadn’t missed anything else, but while I didn’t see anything, Claire apparently did, as she whipped the cover off the body, narrowly missing me with the bloodstained sheets, as she flipped the body over, his front facing the ceiling. “What else is weird here?” She asked, and I wasn’t sure whether it was to herself or me. From what I could see, nothing else really stood out. Ray’s body was on the ground, sprawled out… it was around that time when I realised exactly what was off about Ray’s body. There was a glaring oversight, something that should have been there but wasn’t. I took the paper out and examined it carefully, and could make out the tiniest ink-smudge that had been untouched by the blood. It was a dark blue, a pen colour that was suspiciously missing from the body’s shirt, where a pen of each other colour was lined up. Looking closer, I could even see where the pen had been. “I think the wrecking of the room wasn’t entirely intended.” I said, looking at Claire, who raised an eyebrow as she glanced over the room again. “I mean, some of it is definitely intentional, but at the same time, I think the killer was looking for something.” I pointed to Ray’s chest, where the pocket lined with pens was on full display, and Claire leaned in closer. Soon enough, she’d seen it too, and she looked back at me, eyes wide.

“This is a big find, if we can track the person with the pen, we can find the killer!” She said enthusiastically, and covered the body up again. The two of us walked out, and I jumped back as the person by the door struggled in vain to get up as other people watched. Den and Aaron were looking down at Jim, who was wearing frilly pink handcuffs, his hands trapped behind his back, and his foot having been tucked under him in such a way he couldn’t get up. Seeing the handcuffs, I looked at Claire, confused. “I never said they were his handcuffs.” She said with a wink, and continued walking down the hallway. I gulped, and followed, suddenly slightly uncomfortable by her presence, but not about to say anything.

 As it turns out, tracking down a simple pen was a task easier said than done, and asking people who has a pen didn’t work either, so Claire and I were back in the lobby, having not achieved anything.

“Now what?” I asked, looking at her. It was clear that the more time went on, the less hope she had of actually finding out who had committed the killing, and at this point she was despondent, her head in her hands as she sat at the desk. Claire looked up at me, and I realised at that point that she had given up, sadness in her eyes. This was a side of her that I hadn’t seen before, but from her previous attitudes, it hadn’t seemed like one she was capable of possessing. Filled with more determination than ever to solve the mystery, I thought back, trying to link everything together in my mind, starting from the beginning. I hadn’t seen Ray with any pens other than the one he was using at the time, a black one with gold adornments. That was the pen that had gone missing, and it was obvious enough that someone wouldn’t offer it up if they had it. So why go to the effort of taking it? Unless it was a red herring, something to disguise what was actually taken... which would also explain the attempt at hiding something else. I looked at the bloodstained paper again, the words still as unreadable as when I had first found it, but that wasn’t what I took it out for. I felt the edge of the paper, and, as I expected, I felt the bumps that signified that it had been torn out of a notepad. A notepad that had also disappeared from the scene of the crime. “Claire, did you see anyone with a notepad?” I asked her, and she shook her head sadly, but looked at me with curiosity afterwards. “Then we’ve got a way to solve it.” I said firmly. Claire stood up at these words.

“But how? All our leads have been a dead-end!” She said, clearly unsure and worried about getting excited too soon.

“We were looking for the wrong thing the whole time. The killer tried to hide the fact that a note was written by covering it in blood, but they also did something else. They took the notebook that it was written in.” I said, explaining the conclusion that I had come to. Claire’s eyes widened in response, as she took in everything I told her. There was a lull in the conversation as she processed everything, and then the familiar twinkle in her eyes came back.

“I think I know who the killer is.” She said, triumph in her voice. It was my turn to be taken aback in the conversation, and I was stunned at how quickly she had figured it out.

“How? And who?” I asked, getting my priorities mixed up. Luckily, Claire didn’t notice.

“I don’t want to give it away yet. I want to do that thing that they do in murder-mystery novels where all the suspects are gathered in one room, where you and I discuss the entire thing and go from person to person, making them worried about us accusing them of being the murderer, except we’re actually just focusing on something they’ve said, which led us to the real killer.” Claire said, getting excited, while I stared at her, unbelieving.

“You mean that thing from that episode of Doctor Who that had Agatha Christie in it?” I asked her, bewildered by her long and insane train of thought and grabbing for the first thing that would make this scenario make sense. Even though I had guessed correctly, it still didn’t help.

“Exactly!” She said in reply, before grabbing my wrist and practically dragging me into the dining room. I hadn’t even seen her get up, so I was just going with the motions at this point. She was absolutely crazy. Which was probably the reason I went along with everything she did with no complaints.

[3000wordsandnolife]

Stress

It makes it hard to work in uni. So instead I’m writing more CTM and idly browsing tumblr. Fun times

[3000wordsandnolife]

Plus, this is on the subject of the kids from Stranger Things. My question is where the fuck all the love for King Steve has gone.

inb4 he’s also under 18 and I didn’t check

This is getting out of hand. It’s against the law because it’s taking advantage of a child. I’m a criminal justice major i would know. Can we please just stop talking about this. If u want any questions or comment message me

Agreed, no more questions about this subject.

[3000wordsandnolife]

Countdown to Midnight- Chapter 4

been busy working on stuff, so forgot to post stuff for a few days.

Time: 9:30

The search of the hotel proved fruitless in terms of exits, and I began walking back down the stairs to the bottom floor, disappointed. As time ticked on, it began to feel more and more as if someone was indeed going to die, and I was beginning to worry it might be me. If people really thought I was the traitor, they were definitely going to target me, and I wouldn’t blame them. Everyone else had alibis and regular backstories. I was the only person who had lied. Honestly, I would be surprised if I wasn’t the first one to die. 

I shook those morbid thoughts off. No, I was not going to die. I was going to find a way out, and then I’d be paid and tell Alan to shove it, maybe go work for Gracewell or something. Anything was better than risking this again. I checked the time again on my phone (which was all it was useful for now), a rhythm I had been doing for a while now compulsively, and sighed. Two and a half hours left until we all got choked to death by gas. Or burned by a gas explosion. Either way, gas-related deaths were not a fun way to go, so finding out some way to escape was imperative. I stepped back into the lobby, where the sight of Jenny and Jane greeted me, the former looking over building schematics and the latter leant against a wall, staring into space. “Oh hello, Rose!” Jenny said cheerily, quite a juxtaposition to the general atmosphere of the hotel. “I don’t suppose you’ve found a way out?” She continued, hope in her voice.

“Unfortunately not.” I responded with a sigh. “Do you have anything?” I asked her, and she shook her head.

“Nothing we don’t already know, I’m afraid. The building’s not got anything like secret passageways, or at least not ones that show on the building plan.” Jenny said, looking disheartened. “I’m beginning to feel like there is no escape from here.” She sighed, slouching down in the desk chair, with her head in her hands. I turned to Jane, who was still leaning on the wall, but had turned her head to listen to our conversation. “Guessing you haven’t got anything either.” I said, already knowing what the answer would be. Jane shook her head. “Nope. The only thing I’ve seen is that for all sixteen of us, we have about enough food and water to last us ten days before we need to go without.” Jane looked down thoughtfully. “I have a feeling this was premeditated for quite a while. Possibly the mastermind even predicted who is going to be the first to die.” She mused, as Jenny and I stared at her, unbelieving.

“First to die? No one’s going to die, Jane!” I exclaimed, surprised that I had to spell this out. “Thinking like that is not going to help us get out of here!” Jane looked at me, examining my expression as if scrutinizing every detail on my face.

“There’s just over two hours left. This is the point where someone is going to kill in order to survive. We’re now in a world of kill, or be killed, and quite frankly, if it wasn’t for the fact that I doubt either of you could kill me, I’d be keeping my distance from you as well. As is, you make a good witness. I’m safe as long as you guys are around. It’s just the way the game’s played.” Jane said, making me feel sick. This was all just some twisted game to her?! The thought flashed through my mind that perhaps she was the traitor, but I shoved it down, refusing to listen. I was not about to let my mind start crazy conspiracy theories.

“Jane, this isn’t a game! This is a scale model of chaos! All you’ve done is give in!” I said, trying desperately to make her see.

“And don’t I seem better off for it? Sure, a bit pessimistic, but that’s life. Maybe it isn’t me accepting it that’s the problem. Maybe it’s you not accepting it.” Jane challenged me, and I would have continued arguing further, had Jenny not intervened.

“Okay you two, is this really the best time for this discussion? How about we wait to see if Rose was right, and if she wasn’t, then we can discuss it.” Jenny said, stepping between the two of us. I had to admit, she had a point. For everything I had been saying, I didn’t know for certain that no one was going to die. I just wasn’t ready to accept that possibility. Nonetheless, giving in this soon just didn’t feel right. I wasn’t about to just continue it needlessly though.

“Alright.” I said, calming down. “You have a fair point.” I sighed, moving myself away from Jane, who went back to her pastime of staring blankly at nothing. At this point, other people were entering the room, starting with Aaron and Den, who obviously entered together. I didn’t know what they had been doing, and I didn’t want to ask. Next was Amanda, Edward and Annie, who had decided to check all the windows to see if any of them had glass that wasn’t either tinted or incredibly thick, though their expressions told me that they had had no luck. Natalie and Keith were next, and from the foul expression on Keith’s face, I guessed that whatever they had been trying to do hadn’t worked out either. I heard him swearing to himself as he walked by, which confirmed my thoughts, and Natalie followed, a concerned expression etched on her face. I kinda felt sorry for her. She clearly liked the guy, who definitely seemed like a huge dick. I stopped focusing on that too. It wasn’t the time or the place to judge other people’s relationships. When the room seemed to have filled with the people I recognised, I hopped onto the front desk and addressed them.

“Okay, rundown. What do we have?” I asked. The group hesitated, before Den came forward.

“Aaron and I were checking wall structure. On the bright side, some of the walls are definitely breakable.” Den began, his pause indicating that there was going to be a downside mentioned. “On the not-so bright side, we’ll never break through them in time.” I sighed, wrote it down in one of Melvin’s notepads, and the next person came forward.

“All the exits to the damn building are sealed. Even the ones for the roof! What kind of paranoid freak blocks off the roof access door?” Keith growled in annoyance. “Not to mention that the elevator seems fucked too. When we got in with other people, it started beeping and refused to go anywhere.” “That’s just the weight limit. There were probably too many people in at once.” Jane said plainly. “The limit’s five. Or did you just ignore that, with your clear superiority, and decide that the laws of physics would just bend themselves to fit you?” She added, snarkily.

“Jane, stop antagonising people.” I said simply, the threat behind my words non-existent, yet still implied, and she backed down. “Alright, that’s probably something to remember. Anyone else got anything? We know we’ve got enough food to last us about ten days.”

“Enough food to last sixteen people ten days. The less of us, the longer they’ll last.” Jane corrected me.

“Yes, but as we’ve said, we aren’t going to let people die.” Jenny said, cutting her off before she could spout more bullshit. “Just let us see what happens, okay?” She reasoned, and again, Jane backed down. This was becoming a common thing with her, and it was starting to get on my nerves. “Alright, anyone else got anything they’d like to contribute?” I asked, emphasising that I didn’t want Jane to respond, and thankfully she either took the hint or had no more objections.

“You know how the mastermind said there was no way to communicate with the outside world?” Claire said, catching my attention. “I think he may have been lying, since signals can get in. The TVs still work, and I caught some of the news. There’s nothing about the Ruxford, most likely meaning that the mastermind can also cover that up.” Claire’s words made me think, as they had sent up several red flags of confusion. How do sixteen people disappear without anyone being concerned? Even if they were known to be going to a hotel, there had to be someone trying to contact one of the guests, right? Also, why did the mastermind lie about the communication? Did they just expect us to not try? No, that couldn’t be it… so what was it? Something about this fact made it linger in my mind, so I inquired further, trying to make it make sense. Unfortunately, the responses I got just made it even weirder.

“So has anyone tried to use their phones?” I asked the group.

“It was the first thing I tried when I woke up, but like that creepy guy said, it didn’t work.” Natalie responded, pouting, her makeup not helping cover the unpleasantness from the expression. “It’s possible to individually block a phone signal while letting a TV signal through. However, with the modern TVs the hotel has, there would certainly be some interference.” Melvin said, before turning to his assistant. “Tell me, were there any issues from the TV?” He asked her. She shook her head in response.

“Crisp as when we got here. No visible issues at all.” Claire informed us. “So there must be something else stopping us from using our phones. Or, someone’s watching us and making sure we can see the outside world.” She hypothesised.

“What would be the point of that?” Peter asked her. She looked over at him with a strange expression, and I realised that the two hadn’t spoken at all up until now. But then again, hadn’t they come from the same way? Plus, I had no idea if they had talked beforehand or not, I had been sleeping for hours. “Well, I’d say to make us certain that no one’s going to come help us. Everything we’ve discussed so far makes it seem like we’re being pushed towards killing each other.” I said, bringing the attention back to myself. “Of course, since that isn’t what’s going to happen, we’ve just got to be more vigilant than ever.” I reassured the group, though it was definitely for my benefit in this case. As the time to our possible death got closer, I worried more and more as to whether or not there was actually going to be a murder. Not that I was going to let them know that. Jane would have a field day. Speaking of which, she had been casually observing up until now, having watched instead of participating.

“If we’re going back into looking for a way out, we need to be in groups this time. If people go off by themselves, it’s going to be easy to kill them.” Jane said, surprising me. What, did she now not want people to die? “And before you ask, if two people go off together and one is murdered, the culprit is obvious, so there’s less incentive to murder.” She made sense, and I wasn’t sure whether I was happy about that or not. On the one hand, she had smart, clearly thought-out reasoning, but on the other, she was saying how she was okay with the idea of the game, so how could I be certain that this wasn’t just some sort of ploy?

“Alright then, we’ll pair up! If we work together, we’ll be able to get out of here easily!” Jenny said, in a show of determination and passion that surprised me. God, to have optimism like hers… it must really make life easier.

“Alright then, I’m going with Rose.” Jane said. What? Why was she wanting to go with me? Was she going to kill me? Several negative thoughts went through my head before Jane continued her sentence. “Of all the people I don’t have to worry about being murdered by, at least Rose is slightly tolerable and willing to stand up for her beliefs.” Wait, was that a compliment? Jane confused me so much, so there was little I could do but just wordlessly agree to pair up with her. I looked over to Jenny, and saw her glancing over the group, a confused expression on her face. “Jenny? What’s the matter?” Jane said, cautiously.

“I guess the pairing won’t work… there’s only fifteen of us here.” Jenny said quietly, scanning the group.

“That’s not right, there were… sixteen.” As I said the sentence whilst counting the heads, the fact hit home. There were only fifteen people in this room. Where was Ray Wendell? Looking over at Jane, I saw that she had quickly reached the same conclusion, and met my gaze. The two of us ran out of the room to the staircase, where we stopped at the foot of it. Some of the group had followed us out, and were watching us with concern, some of them having also realised the same thing we had. “You check the first three floors, I’ll go for four through six!” I said, before racing up the stairs, taking them three at a time. Getting to the fourth floor, I racked my brain, trying to remember which rooms were empty. I began to pace the hallway, getting closer to my room, and that was when I saw something that made my blood freeze. My room’s door was open. I wouldn’t have been the one to leave it open, so who did? I heard my name being called from behind me by some of the other guests, but it was as if I was underwater, only one thing on my mind. I pushed the door to my room open, and turned on the light.

 In all my life, I don’t think I’d ever experienced something as bad as that moment. Turning the light on threw the once-dark room into deadly shades of scarlet, and the metallic tang in the air only served to make the experience more unpleasant. The room was a wreck. Someone had clearly been looking for something, and whatever it was, it had been found. And I knew exactly what it was from the torn open suitcase, missing a nondescript package. But that wasn’t the issue. There were pools of blood everywhere, as if someone had taken a blood bag and spun around with it, with the sole intention of getting blood on every surface. And in the middle of the biggest blood pool was the source of the blood: Ray Wendell. The murder had been brutal, whoever having done it having used a knife to slice at the body in numerous places. His face was contorted into one of confusion, his eyes asking the same ones that every dead person’s eyes always did. Asking why it had to be him, why he was the first to die. Probably also asking why he had made such a poor decision as to walk into someone else’s room. The blood from his body had been sprayed on a lot of places, and from giving a quick second-glance at the body (I didn’t want to look at it too long), I could see that his throat had been slit, definitely the killing wound. Clenched tightly in his right hand was a short length of metal, which upon closer inspection was one of those telescopic batons, clearly what he had used to defend himself. There was also something else that was off in the room, but I couldn’t place my finger on it. There was certainly a lot of blood, but at the same time, it almost felt as if there was too much blood. Suddenly my crazy theory as to how the blood had gotten everywhere didn’t seem too crazy.

“Jesus Christ.” Breathed Claire from behind me. A few other members of the group had gathered, and I heard the unpleasant sounds of retching coming from what I could only assume was Den, though it could have very easily have been a wounded Bigfoot, judging from the noises he was making.

“Is that Ray?” Jim asked, glancing through the doorway. Claire nodded.

“Yeah. Poor guy.” She sighed, looking over the body and the room. She looked around again after a pause, her expression changing and her eyes squinting suspiciously. “Something isn’t right here.” She concluded, confirming my earlier thoughts. I shared my thoughts and observations with her, and she listened intently, nodding her head. When I had finished, she walked over to the body, and knelt down next to it. She carefully moved the body around, examining it without disrupting it too much. She looked at the fatal wound, pushing at it slightly with a pencil from her pocket. Seemingly satisfied, she put it away, having gained some sort of information from it, but whatever it was, I had no idea. “Whose room is this?” Claire asked.

“It’s mine.” I replied, and she looked up at me with an expression I couldn’t place. It was only when I looked at the other people that I realised what she and everyone else were thinking. Someone had been murdered in a room, and the person to discover the body had been the person who owned the room. I was the prime suspect. But I also realised something else. Whoever had been into my room to steal the package had known about it. So the murderer was the person in possession of the package. But how could I track them down? I thought of each of the guests, but none of them stood out to me as anyone who could possibly be working for Alan as well as me. However, there was a bigger picture here. Someone had been killed, possibly for what they had seen, more likely just to keep the others alive. I looked back at Ray again, thinking. Maybe he had known about it, and the murderer had killed him? Then, having the package, they could have thought it to be something like a trap or a bomb, thus taking it for safety? Coming to this conclusion only gave me one solid fact to go on; if I was going to find the real murderer, I needed to pretend that I didn’t know about the package, and find out who has it by myself. I sighed, as I snapped back into the present, looking at everyone. “This is just going to be me proving myself to you assholes over and over again, isn’t it?” I said bitterly, before walking out of the room. Claire jogged up behind me, matching my pace.

“I don’t think it’s you, you know.” She said to me. I refused to look at her as I kept walking, trying to think of ways to find the killer. “Me neither, surprisingly enough.” I responded, stepping into the elevator. Claire stepped in behind me, before the doors could close her off.

“I mean, I want to help. Or at least, I want to be the solidifying evidence if I end up dead.” Claire’s words caused me to look over at her, and I raised an eyebrow incredulously. “You are insane.” I said, unable to articulate any further than that. My shock was clearly evident, as she tried to explain herself.

“No, I just meant that I have enough faith in you to assume you’re not the killer. If you are, and you do kill me, then what does it matter, you’ll end up dying too.” Claire was good at reading people, a fact that she was well aware of. This must have been why she was so reckless with her trust. Not that it was bad to trust me, but if I had been the killer, she would have been killed quite quickly. I narrowed my eyes, staring at her.

“How do I know you’re not the killer?” I asked her, staring her down, but she was unflinching.

“Two reasons. One, Ray would have very easily won the scuffle that had gone down between him and the killer if it was me.” Claire began, as the elevator dinged. The two of us walked back into the lobby, preparing to begin the search. “And two, your room’s clock is broken on 9:33, which was when I was with Melvin and Peter, and you were with Jenny and Jane. Solidifying both our alibis, as well as Jane’s and Jenny’s.” She concluded. Of course she had seen something as obvious as that. At least that explained the trust. “Now come on, we’ve got a killer to catch.” She walked into the room marked security office, and I quickly followed behind her. We were hot on the killer’s trail, as well as the mystery of the box’s disappearance. I had to stop myself from getting excited. Things were actually getting quite interesting, and also terrifying.

[3000wordsandnolife]

Memory Stick Found

Turns out I was a dumbass and left it at Uni. Good work me, not as if I needed that.

[3000wordsandnolife]

Vale Dominus- Chapter 3

And this is the final chapter I’ve written so far. Haven’t had much time, having immediately started work on other stuff. More info on that soon!

The four walked out into the courtyard, which immediately stood out as odd to the newcomers. Though they had entered the building at dusk, the entire courtyard was lit up as if it was the middle of the day, with the other side of the fences teeming with people walking past.

 For a second, Piranha wondered if he had somehow lost eight hours of his life as time has gone forwards, but that thought was quickly dispelled as a frisbee hurtled as if it was going to fly over the fence, but instead bounced off something invisible, causing a ripple in the outside scene, like a stone skimming over a watery surface. Before Piranha or Joker could even ask, they were ushered over by the other two to people sat on a bench, who glanced up at them, then promptly did a double-take.

“What the…” The closest one said, a blond man with muscles threatening to burst through his plain t-shirt. Piranha was surprised the fabric was even holding together. He also couldn’t stop staring, and desperately scrambled for something else to look at. Glancing around, he noticed that the other people in the courtyard seemed to be training, but not in any way he’d ever seen. Rather than combatting each other in normal ways, most seemed to be relying on strange abilities, split-second reflexes causing people to move incredibly quickly. His eyes widened as a burst of flames shot into the air, coming from one of the other people’s hands. It almost seemed too weird to be true, and if it wasn’t for his own abilities, he wouldn’t believe it was happening at all.

“Looks like they did their job for you, Finite. They turned up about ten minutes ago at the front doors.” Knows said, grinning. The other man glanced up from underneath his dark hair, and Piranha saw the clear scar on his neck, as if a blade had been drawn across it. He considered asking about it, but thought better of it as he saw the man’s tired eyes. He got distracted by Finite standing up very stiffly and offering a hand out in a handshake, looking slightly uncomfortable as he did so. Joker took the hand uncertainly, and it was shaken by Finite as if he didn’t know how to shake a hand at all.

“Hello, I’m Finite, and this guy is Icronic.” Finite mumbled, glancing back at Icronic as he did so. “He’s my…” Finite paused for a second, then finished the sentence with the word “Partner” right as Icronic finished the sentence himself with the word “Boyfriend”. The two glanced at each other for a second, and Finite blushed. Piranha and Joker just awkwardly looked away, as the silence lurked in the air.   “Yeah, they’re always this awkward.” Valms said, the first that the two had heard him speak. “You’ll get used to it.” With these words, Finite snapped back to attention, remembering what he was supposed to be doing.

“We’re the scouts. We track down anyone with abilities, and we bring them back here so they can train themselves safely.” Finite said, producing a list of names from a back pocket, before crossing off two of them. “You two were actually on our list, so you’ve saved us some time by coming here.” He added, before putting the paper back away and looking up at them with a smile that seemed slightly forced.  

“Wait, how did you know about us?” Joker asked, and Piranha nodded in agreement, remembering that he had done his best to keep himself hidden over the years. Icronic was the one to respond this time around, before Finite had a chance to.

“We’ve got a huge machine in the basement that tracks everyone with abilities in the world.” Icronic said, in a monotonous voice that went well with his tired expression. Piranha wondered how Icronic and Finite had even gotten together, but before he could comment, Joker’s words shook him from his thoughts.

“Wow, you have a machine that can do that?” He said excitedly, glancing between everyone. Valms was shaking his head in disbelief, and Knows was shuffling awkwardly. Finite was struggling not to laugh, and Icronic was as deadpan as ever.

“No. We just keep up with the news and look for unusual stuff.” Icronic admitted, smirking as he did so. Joker blushed, embarrassed, and Finite disguised his laughter as a coughing fit. Piranha was just standing there, refusing to admit that he had also believed that the machine could have been a real thing. Icronic tapped on a tablet that was in front of him for a few seconds, before sliding it over to the two. It showed the front of two newspapers, and Piranha immediately found himself taken back as he saw the front of the gas station pictured in one of them. All at once, it was like he was there again, the metal tang of blood in his mouth and the panic in the atmosphere. He reminded himself of how long ago this had been, and glanced over at Joker. Joker, unlike Piranha, was smiling warmly as he looked at the newspaper clipping, which showed a woman on the front. He recalled how he had saved her, and was glad to see she had not only managed to be okay, but had also been able to benefit from the experience. “Piranha and Joker. You two really live up to your names, you know.” Icronic said to them, before sliding the tablet back to himself. “If I had known you were together, we would have looked for you a lot more.” Piranha and Joker shook their heads rapidly at this, stammering out their responses and denials, before Icronic laughed. “I didn’t mean like that.” He chuckled.  

“We just met up a few hours ago.” Joker said, and Piranha nodded along as he looked around again. “We then decided to look for the institute together.” As Joker said this, Finite looked up, his eyes widening slightly as he did, as he remembered something important.

“Knows, have you taken these guys to see Leuil and Nel yet?” He asked, and Knows shook his head in response.   “Not yet. I don’t really think they need to see Rusanel at all yet, do they?” Knows asked in response, and Valms shrugged. Piranha glanced between the four, before glancing over at Joker and being slightly relieved to see he wasn’t the only one who was incredibly confused.

“I need to pick up something from Leuil, so we definitely need to go to see him.” Valms said. “Apart from that, I wouldn’t say they really need to go anywhere.”

Leuil’s workplace stood out in the courtyard, a ramshackle-looking shed sat in the corner, as large as a garage, but with only one small door leading inside. Before Piranha and the rest had even gone in, the smell of motor oil and sounds of machinery hit him like a truck, and he grimaced. However, as everyone piled through the door and entered the hut, the atmosphere outside seemed to be the complete opposite of the inside. It was actually tidy and clean, with machinery venting the fumes to the outside. Piranha stared in disbelief at how sizable the room seemed to be, looking even larger than it had from the outside. A ladder led up to an upper floor that overlooked the area the group stood in, and a figure popped his bespectacled head out from over the railing, looking over the entire group. Whilst he definitely seemed to be as old as the rest of them, his face was youthful, joyous and had a sense of mischief, which his personality only added to as he spoke up.

“You remembered my birthday, Knows!” Leuil said happily, before hopping over the fence and dropping the six feet down to the ground floor, landing in a crouch before straightening himself up. He immediately made his way to Piranha and Joker, before ushering them to stand in the middle of the room as he examined them all over. “And two hunky guys too, how generous of you!” He grinned, and Piranha felt his face grow hot. He could feel Leuil’s eyes glancing all over his body, and had to resist the urge to move his hands and cover himself.  

“It’s not your birthday, Leuil.” Valms said flatly, as if talking to a child. Leuil simply pouted in response.

“Does that mean I don’t get to keep them? And I had so many plans for the pink-haired one.” If Piranha’s face had felt hot before, it now felt as if it was on fire, as Leuil practically whispered the second line in his ear. Leuil walked around back into their view, and the two relaxed. “All joking aside, I guess you two are new to the institute. Everyone comes here at some point.” Leuil looked over the two again, before snapping his head back forward. “Aquatic DNA fused with your own, causing genetic mutations and physical attributes to change.” He stated, glancing at Piranha, who froze up. Somehow, with barely any time at all, Leuil had managed to accurately assess where Piranha’s abilities stemmed from. “Hereditary mutation causing temporal phases, stemming possibly as far back as seven generations.” Leuil said to Joker, and judging from his reaction, Piranha knew that Leuil had been right on the mark for Joker’s abilities too.

“How in the hell-” Piranha was cut off by Leuil’s laughter at their stunned expressions, and he glanced over at Knows and Valms, who were nodding an answer to the question Piranha had yet to ask. Apparently, Leuil was just that good.  

“Oh man, you wouldn’t believe what people don’t pay attention to. Honestly, it’s all over you guys.” Leuil said, before speeding up the ladder. Piranha just stood there, unable to say anything more. “Valms, I got finished with your new mask by the way!” Leuil yelled from the upstairs area, before he popped his head over the railing again, slightly out of breath. He threw down a mask that was identical to the one that Valms was already wearing, and Piranha watched as Valms switched the masks around. Unlike what Piranha had expected, Valms had an ordinary mouth, and it made Piranha unsure of why he wore it in the first place. He mentally added the question to the list of questions he probably wouldn’t have answered, as Leuil popped out again. “Why are you guys still here?” He asked, confused, and the four took that as the cue to leave, shuffling out of the front door awkwardly as machinery clattered from above. “That guy maintains the wall. The field that keeps the courtyard lit and stops people from seeing inside.” Valms said as they walked, the most he had said in a while. “He’s a little eccentric, but when you get to know him, he’s actually kinda nice. If a little forward.” Valms glanced away, and Knows chuckled at this. “You should tell them about the time the two of you got drunk and almost-” Knows was cut off by Valms glaring at him. “Uh, never mind.” He trailed off, as the four walked back into the building. A few corridors and staircases later, they were at a corridor with doors leading off into different rooms. “This is the dormitories. This is where you’ll be staying for now, though you’ll probably be moved after a while.” Knows said, handing each of them a key. Piranha’s room key was numbered 729, and it made him wonder exactly how many rooms there were in the institute. Joker’s key was numbered as 730, and as such, the two had rooms opposite each other. “Well, I guess this is where we part ways for now.” Knows said, and the four stood in awkward silence. “You guys are free to leave anytime, you know. But if you stay, I can promise that the institute will give you what you’re looking for.” Knows reassured them. At first, Piranha was relieved, but as he looked at Valms and Knows, he saw the two glance at each other with an odd expression. He wasn’t quite sure what expression it was at first, but after he said goodbye to the rest of them, entered his room and laid down on the unexpectedly-soft bed, he realized why the expression unnerved him. Whatever those two had arrived here for, they hadn’t found it yet. Piranha knew that they had come after hours, meaning that they couldn’t have been here for too long. So how long would he have to wait for the information he needed?

It would be three weeks of nothing before excitement entered Piranha’s life.  

[3000wordsandnolife]

AAAAAAAAAAAAA

So it turns out at some point I’ve lost my memory stick. With the newest versions of a lot of my projects on it.

I still have backups, and thankfully I was only really working on TWB recently, and I’m pretty sure there was only one thing I hadn’t put onto my onedrive yet. It’s gonna be irritating to rewrite that one though, since it was the second time writing one of my White Whale fics. 

[3000wordsandnolife]

Countdown To Midnight- Chapter 3

It’s literally been the 2nd for three hours for me, but fuck it, I didn’t put anything out yesterday because I was busy doing other projects (AKA nothing at all except trying to write with severe writer’s block and learning how good Gorillaz are)

I doubt I would have woken so soon, had the foreign bed sheets not caused me to fall flat onto my face, rousing me from my quite peaceful nap.

“I hate my life.” I murmured to myself, before pushing myself off of my front, rolling onto my side. I sat up, and looked around the room for some kind of way to see the time.

There was what looked like a clock on a table with a large mirror protruding from it. I had no idea what they were called, since I had never used one myself. All I knew is that they were quite common in bedrooms, so it didn’t surprise me that there was one here. I sat down in the chair, staring at myself, who looked back at me with a tired expression on her face, as if asking me honestly, why do you even try anymore? It was a question I wouldn’t answer, and, if I was being quite honest, I didn’t even know how to answer. Why did anyone try? Shrugging these thoughts off, I examined myself. There was a slight mark on my forehead from where I had hit the ground, but apart from that, I was fine. I glanced over at the clock as I did so, then quickly darted my eyes back to it, refusing to believe what I had seen. The time was 7PM! I had managed to sleep for nearly seven god damn hours! I quickly went over to my suitcase, and got out a change of clothes. I wasn’t about to look like a slob, that’d probably ruin the image I had made for myself. As I stripped off my sleep-creased clothing, I caught a view of myself in the mirror, and I was reminded of the cotton pad on my side, the only thing to show that I had been shot. I was then reminded of how well I was taking the whole being shot thing. Maybe I was getting used to this line of work after all. I slipped a t-shirt and jeans on, grabbed a loose jacket and swung it over my shoulder, before I zipped the case back up and sauntered out, as if I had intended to be as late as I most likely was for dinner. It was when I stepped into the elevator that I first realised something felt weird. The elevator hadn’t moved at all since I had used it to come upstairs seven hours earlier. Not one single person had needed to nip to their room to check anything, not one staff member had been to the floor since I had gone up? I shrugged it off, attributing it to coincidence, or maybe just that everyone had used the stairs instead. Unfortunately, the next events made me realise that it was no coincidence at all. I stepped back into the lobby, and quickly noticed the lack of… anything. There were no staff members, no guests, nothing. I checked around, glancing through hallways and corridors, but there was no one to be seen anywhere in the darkened halls. Suddenly feeling quite nervous and sickly, I decided to step outside for some fresh air. This plan was quickly stopped in its tracks as I saw the metal covering blocking off the door. The blast shielding, or whatever it was. A giant wall of metal. Okay, now I was beginning to panic. I forced myself to stay calm, and try and see if there was anyone else in the hotel. Closing my eyes, and blocking out the dark, worrying thoughts, I realised that, very faintly, I could hear people talking. From the sound of it, it was coming from the dining room, so I turned my body and started walking to the double doors that separated the two rooms.  

“Oh, so it looks like you didn’t get out after all. Shame.” Claire’s voice was the first thing I heard as I walked into the room, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I realised I wasn’t trapped in here with a load of angry, murderous staff members and caterers that had decided to snap after one too many snobby guests treated them like- wait a minute, what did she say? I replayed the words in my head, and realised that she was talking about getting out.

“Claire, are we… trapped?” I breathed out, suddenly worrying a lot more than I had been. I had assumed there would be at least one way out.  

“It would appear so, Miss Harvey. From what we’ve checked, there are only us sixteen guests in the hotel. No clue where the staff have buggered off to.” Melvin spoke up, feverishly writing down notes on the paper.  

“That’s not all, Rose. Come look over here.” Aaron called me over, and I joined him and Den at the bar, where a laptop was sat in front of them. “We found it here when we woke up. We’ve tried pushing all of the buttons, but it’s just stayed on standby.” Aaron sighed and looked at his frankly garish drink, spinning it around slightly with a straw. “Den thinks that whoever’s trapped us in here is going to send us a message through it.”  

“Hold on, did you say you woke up? What happened down here?” I asked, interrupting his explanation. Aaron looked up, as if he was suddenly realising something.

“Oh right, you went to your room, didn’t you? You probably just napped and thought nothing of it, right?” As Aaron correctly guessed what had happened, I nodded in agreement. “We didn’t have that luxury. Den decided against going up, since we might as well have stayed together, we would have gone up soon enough anyway. We were just chatting, when before you know it, we were falling asleep, to wake up about ten minutes ago. Den thinks we were poisoned.” Den spoke up, having heard his name be mentioned for the second time in a short window of time.  

“Well of course! Whoever’s behind this wanted to knock us out so that all the workers could leave or be disposed of, but the guests were still kept around, since they will have eaten the food!” Den exclaimed. Honestly, everything was beginning to get a little confusing.  

“Wait, what do you mean by whoever’s behind this? Surely it’s just some sort of quarantine accident or something?” I asked, before realising that of course there had to be a mastermind. This was way too unusual for it to be sheer coincidence. Well, at least it added to my character.  

“There’s definitely a mastermind, possibly one of the guests here.” Den said, before sharing a glance with Aaron. They clearly had someone in mind, and knowing the two of them from my brief interactions, I was pretty sure I knew who it was. To be honest, Jim definitely seemed like a fair choice as to who was responsible. He certainly had the temperament to capture a load of people that had pissed him off. But still, something as big as this would have taken a lot of careful planning, something he was definitely incapable of. “God knows what that sick bastard wants to do with sixteen people trapped in a hotel.” Den muttered. As if on cue, the screen flickered to life, and Den and Aaron jumped away, taken aback by the sudden activity, while everyone else in the room looked over, suddenly interested. The screen showed nothing but a shaking line, which was clearly an audio waveform, something I deduced as it moved with the voice that played from it.

“Well I’m so glad you asked!” The voice played, garbled from the obvious modulator that was being used to disguise the identity. “Honestly, I was wondering how long it would take someone to ask about the motive, that’s really the only thing I care about, you know! You know, since it’s my reason for doing this and all.” The voice sent shivers down my spine, the clear mirth coming from his words creating an atmosphere of pure terror. “This is the beginning of the game! And you lot were all chosen to play it! Honestly, I’m glad it ended up being sixteen of you, any more than that and it would have never worked quite as well!”

“Who the hell are you?!” I shouted at the screen, not really expecting a response, since it was clearly a recor-

“I’m that mastermind you were looking for! Congrats, you solved the mystery! Let’s hope you can keep that up!” The voice suddenly responded, shocking me. “Oh, don’t look like that, do you really expect me to use a pre-recorded message for something as important as the inaugural speech!” I wasn’t quite sure inaugural was the right word to use, but I wasn’t about to point it out.   “What do you mean, keep it up? What are we doing trapped in here?” I asked, quizzing the voice, speaking up while no one else would.   “Well, to explain that part, I need to make sure everyone’s here to hear me. Is everyone gathered around, kids? Storytime’s beginning!” Slowly and nervously, all the guests crowded around the laptop, as the voice waited patiently. “Alright, is the whole class here? Goodie! Now we can begin!” The waveform disappeared, showing a schematic of the hotel. “From here on out, until I say so, you are trapped in the hotel. A lockdown has officially taken place, and no one from the outside will be able to get in, either!” Numerous symbols, the easily recognisable ones for the various ways of communication, such as Wi-Fi and mobile, popped up on the screen, quickly blocked off by a circle with a line through it. “The building’s got a huge jammer for mobile signals, and the phone and internet lines have been cut off. No contact with anyone outside until the game’s over!”  

“You still haven’t explained, what the hell is this game?” Aaron piped up, as the group murmured in agreement. While I agreed that I wanted to know, there was part of me that was dreading finding out what this so-called game was going to entail.

“Good job, Aaron, asking all the right questions! Indeed, you don’t know what the game is, do you? Well fear not, I’m here to explain it all to you!” The picture of the hotel was replaced by sixteen figures, one representing each of the guests in the hotel, with a clock displaying the time sat on the top of the screen. “You see, the game’s simple. The time is currently 25 minutes past 7PM. The main aspect of the game… is to make sure that the group has one less person before midnight.” It took a moment for the words to register, and another moment for me to realise exactly what that entailed.   “Hold on, you want us to kill someone?! What the hell?!” I exclaimed, taken aback and refusing to believe it.

“Got it in one, Harvey! You’re really giving Aaron a run for his money here!” The voice said in glee. “If you don’t want the entire hotel to be flooded with gas, then someone has to die before midnight! Honestly, I think the first night is going to be the hardest. You only have five hours to kill! At least with the other days, you have all afternoon to plan it out!” The words, and the implication behind them, gave me a dark pit in my stomach. I had never killed anyone before, not even when things had been at their worse. Were we really expected to murder someone else in order to survive? Scanning the shocked faces of the other group members, I knew one thing for certain. No one was going to call the mastermind’s bluff. After everything that had happened, it was obvious that we could all very easily be killed. So we had to kill someone. “Now I know what you’re thinking, so what happens if you do kill someone before midnight? Don’t worry about that either, the next day will just have the same rules! Sixteen days at most, gang!”   “Hold on, how do we win then?” Someone stepped forward who I didn’t know, a young man wearing a white hoodie that seemed quite out of place in a setting such as this, and begun talking to the voice. “I mean, it is a game, and the main rule of games is that there’s a way to win.” He had a point.

“Oh Peter, of course you can win. You just need to keep me satisfied until I’m happy to let you leave!” The voice responded with mirth. “Of course, you’ll have to find out other ways to make me happy than just killing if you want to save as many people as possible!” The voice said. “On the other hand, piss me off and I may just decide to kill you all anyway. Well, except for the inside man.” Those words sent another chill down my spine. Someone on the inside was a traitor? That seemed so cliché and unlikely, and yet, made horrible sense. Someone had to start the horror. There was no point setting up a game if it wasn’t going to be played. Now the question was… who was it? I looked at the other fifteen again, trying to get a read on each of them. No matter how much I looked, however, I couldn’t figure out who it was. I could see everyone else looking around too, trying to figure out who it was. I looked at Claire, and horribly, she was looking right at me, examining me closely. I was probably the prime suspect in her mind. “Now now, let’s not spend too much time trying to figure out who the traitor is, I’m sure they’ll reveal themselves in due time! The clock is ticking, kiddos! Who’s going to be the first victim tonight?!” The voice said, before the screen cut out, displaying a countdown. It was counting down to midnight, which immediately set me on edge. It was almost time already.

“What the fuck are we going to do?!” Aaron said, freaking out. The group was as on edge as I was, and it was going to take a lot of work to keep them co-ordinated on a way out.  

“Well obviously we get someone to sacrifice themselves to give us a way out. If they kill themselves, we don’t need to worry about being near a murderer either.” Jim said, attempting to take charge. Some nodded in agreement with him, but others were shocked at his proposal.

“Are you serious?!” Aaron exclaimed.

“Wow, and I thought you were bad before.” Den muttered.

“Christ, this guy’s a meathead.” Claire whispered to us.  

“Logistically speaking, that wouldn’t be too wise. The last thing we’d want would be to accidentally eliminate a good source of information.” Melvin said, scribbling notes down into a notepad that he had produced as if from nowhere.

“Well then we just get rid of the dumbest one here!” Jim said. I began looking at the door that led out of the hotel from this room, and saw the keypad next to it. When I looked back, I saw that most people’s eyes were on me, and I realised with a sinking feeling that my lie to make myself inconspicuous had backfired into making me the stupidest there. “I’m truly sorry, Rose, but this is for the best.” Jim said, and he almost seemed convinced himself.   “No, I’m sorry. But you aren’t going to do jack shit to me, you great lumbering cock.” I said angrily through gritted teeth. It was time for me to stop dicking around, so I ran to the door, and began scanning over everything. The keypad, the type of metal, the walls themselves, any way for us to get out.

“What the hell? Rose, what happened to you?” I turned back around as Aaron’s concerned voice reached me, and I saw that the group was shocked. I had definitely seemed like an idiot to most of them, so to be doing this was out of left field. But I didn’t care. Right now we were trying to break out of somewhere, which is quite similar to breaking in to somewhere. And I had a lot of experience with that.

“The keypad’s a 2015 model Fritz-Yaeger, complete with a non-stick interface, meaning no fingerprints. The metal itself is a thick, non-corrosive sort, possibly titanium or something, god knows. The walls are way too thick to break through.” I said, giving them all the information I had gained. “We’re all getting out of here alive, and if you try to make it otherwise, you will be the first one to ‘sacrifice’ themselves for everyone else’s sake. Any questions?” I said, taking charge of the situation.   “So why were you lying about being an idiot?” Claire asked. I wasn’t surprised she wanted to know, considering she had seen through it immediately, and then I had failed to keep it up.   “It’s my job.” I said simply, not going into too much detail despite the circumstances. “I can’t explain, but I needed to give a low profile.”  

“Right, because that’s not suspicious at all.” Claire responded, deadpan. “How do we know you aren’t the traitor?” She asked, quizzing me, her judging stare boring into me. I stayed calm and stoic.  

“You don’t, and for now, you’ll have to trust me. I’ll prove it when I can, but we have a lot of stuff we need to do. We need to organise a roll-call.” I said, coming up with the idea off the top of my head.   “Whatever for?” Melvin asked. “Honestly, attendance at a time like this is hardly paramount.”  

“To make sure we’re all safe come morning, plus to make sure we all know each other. There’s still people here I don’t know.” I responded, explaining it as best as I could. It made sense in my head. Introducing the group to each other would minimize the chance of a killing. Claire retrieved the guest list from the lobby, and handed it to me. As she did it, it also felt as if I was being handed the role of leader. I stood up on a table, and began reading out the names. Melvin, Aaron, Den, Jim, Claire, Amanda, Wendell (whose first name was Ray), Frank and Peter were all listed off, and then I got to the ones I didn’t know.

“Natalie Laiperd and Keith Valos?” I asked, and the trouble in paradise couple waved, their names finally having been revealed. “Edward Buckley?” I called out, and an older looking gentleman gave a simple wave, his hand quickly returning to his cane. “Annie Michelle?” A similarly aged woman gave a similar looking wave, before returning to her book. Her calmness was kinda admirable, and insane. “Jane Lalonde?” I said, and a voice called out in response. A blonde, young woman sat at a table by herself, sipping wine with her feet on the table. She wore all black, and had an air of professionalism that, considering the company, stood out surprisingly well. “And finally, Jennifer Carmichael?”   “Please, call me Jenny.” The final woman said, who was a fiery redhead with blue eyes that stood out against the contrasting hair colour. “Jennifer is so formal.” I had seen her before, but I had no idea where, which was usual fare for the people in here.  

“Alright then, now we have that out of the way, I suggest we scour the entire hotel and make sure that we haven’t missed a way out. Even getting onto the roof would be an accomplishment, so if we can do that, we absolutely should.” I said, creating a battle plan in my mind. All we had to do was find a way out, or a way to communicate with the outside world, before we all died. It was a pretty big challenge, but then again, it was possible. We were going to get out. This mastermind, whoever he was, was not going to defeat us.

[3000wordsandnolife]

WHAT THE FUCK TARA

Confession

I’ve never seen Hocus Pocus.

[3000wordsandnolife]

Reblogging simply because of the song this reminds me of

Unto this storm

Unto this storm

Unto this storm

And wait

[3000wordsandnolife]

New idea...?

Working title is Wastelanders: Systematic Immunity (Get it? Because it involves the immune system?... ah, fuck it)

An infection spreads across the U.K, turning humans and animals alike into carnivorous monsters. Those who haven’t been infected are those with strong immune systems, people who never got sick before the infection began. The protagonist is one of the few survivors in his England hometown, making his way towards the rescue point in Land’s End. However, unbeknown to his friends, he has Leukocytopenia, a white blood cell deficiency, giving him a weak immune system.

Might write a chapter pilot, see how I feel. Definitely going to be in the first person, I miss writing in that style.

[3000wordsandnolife]

She’s been reblogging my stuff, might as well do the same.

Ozpin x Reader

Not my favorite work but I had the idea after watching Vol 5 Ep 3 and just felt like writing it. Hopefully it’s still acceptable. Time to go back to writing something that no one will likely read (Or even see, if I ever finish it…).

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12579852

[3000wordsandnolife]

Vices and Virtues

I find myself falling in love with this album the more I listen to it. It probably won't best Death Of A Bachelor for me, but it's such a good mix of Pretty. Odd.'s style of music and their more recent music that it just works so well. Nearly Witches was a hidden gem, and Kaleidoscope Eyes is heaven.