NEW MEXICO. The nearest outpost of civilization is a good 50 miles away (a “Stuckey’s”). Desert surrounds the house, Murder Manor, on all sides.
MEET THE PLAYERS:
Seapunky
Eight
Cuitlahac
Doibr
krizteen
James
Ken
P.A.S.
Erin
Stacey
Cyd
Spinnwebe
It was only a few days before anyone ventured outside and saw Mollie’s corpse next to Ken’s. Spinn saw it and came back inside, as Doibr ate his breakfast cereal on his bed in his room.
“Killed Mollie,” said Spinn, pointing at him.
“Of course I did,” he said, “it’s what I’m here to do.”
“Me, too,” Spinn replied, and approached Doibr, who grabbed a butcher knife
from under his pillow.
“Back off!” It didn’t have any effect; Spinn kicked the knife from his hand. “Shit.”
He grabbed Doibr by his hair and bashed his head into the bedside table. Doibr
struggled with Spinn’s arms, but Spinn wasn’t deterred. He bashed Doibr’s head into the
metal bedpost, over and over. Blood began flying about.
“Stupid,” said Spinn. “Mollie was only protector.” He continued bashing until
Doibr’s head split open like a coconut down the back. As Doibr twitched, still barely alive,
Spinn took a fountain pen from the table and jammed it directly into his brain. He tossed
Doibr’s body onto the floor and left, closing and locking the door behind him.
Stacey was taking inventory of everyone’s weapons; of the dead, only a few of them had weapons worth taking. Ken had used up all his flammables on an elaborate trap in his room before Cindy dispatched him. Most of the other weapons had been claimed or discarded as ineffective.
She was looking through the garage, when she noticed. Holding her icepicks
cautiously, she gathered everyone in the living room.
“There’s a garden hose in the garage that’s missing.”
Everyone looked at her. Erin spoke: “How do you know?”
“The package is still out there, but the hose is gone. Anyone know what happened
to it?”
Blank stares back at her. Somewhere, a choked voice whispered, “Stacey.”
Stacey looked around. “Who said that?!”
No one replied. “Stacey,” again. It was coming from above them.
Cindy’s room.
They raced up the stairs. They had all assumed Cindy had died; her wound
sustained in her fight with Ken had been fairly grievous. Stacey was the first to arrive; she
tried to force open the door, but it was only with Erin’s help that she managed to ram it
open.
Cindy croaked, “Look out for the-”
But it was too late. The trap she had set sprang to life; a makeshift crossbow made
from a carving knife, several rubber bands, some pencils, and a bedspring launched its
deadly projectile. Erin and Stacey fell over as the door caved in, leaving the knife to streak
unchecked toward...
“Gack,” said krizteen in shock, as the blade pierced her throat. She looked down at
it in amazement and fingered its hilt. “Fuhkk,” she said, and Spinn elbowed her on the
back of the head. She fell over, and Spinn kicked her down the stairs. She lay at the
bottom, lifeless, in a growing pool of blood.
“Sorry,” said Cindy. She was a wreck. Covered in Ken’s dried blood, she had a cloth pressed to her wound. Fresh blood covered her shirt and arm, dripping into a puddle in which she sat. She was gaunt and sick-looking. Stacey, Erin, and Spinn approached her.
“What is it?” asked Stacey. “Killer... tried to get in... my room... last night,” she croaked.
Stacey was incredulous. “WHAT?! Why didn’t he?”
“Knew door was rigged. Didn’t want to... ack... draw attention.” Cindy emitted a loud, hacking cough, and drops of blood hit Stacey in the face. “Sorry.”
“Forget it. What else?” Stacey prodded.
“Came after me... because I knew. I knew. Found... missing hose. Lake.” She was fading fast. Stacey grabbed her good arm.
“Stay with me, Cyd. Come on, the killer’s in the lake? Is that what you’re saying?”
Cindy didn’t even had the strength left to nod, however. She slumped over, her eyes half open. Stacey reached out and shut them.
Spinn, Stacey, and Erin looked out over the lake. It hadn’t seemed so huge before.
They waded out and cautiously investigated, holding their various weapons at the ready.
“Hey!”
Erin had found the tip of the hose sticking out of the water, held up by a fallen tree
extending far into the lake. “Come look!”
Spinn and Stacey swam over. “Well, this is how the killer was hiding in the water.
Now what?” Erin asked.
“I guess we find who’s on the end of it.” Stacey disappeared under the water.
Spinn and Erin waited.
“How do you think they survived with no food?” Erin asked Spinn.
“Had food,” said Spinn. “Wildlife.” Sure enough, now that Spinn mentioned it,
Erin saw more than the usual amount of feathers floating in the water.
“He ate them... raw? Jesus, that’s just fuckin’ WRONG.”
Spinn looked at him. “Don’t knock it til you’ve tried it.”
Stacey didn’t suface for another minute, just long enough for them to become
worried that the killer had gotten her. But, no. She emerged, gasping for air, wiping her
hair from her face.
“Nobody’s down there,” she said.
“Of course,” Erin realized, “he knew Cindy knew where he was, and since he
couldn’t kill her... he re-located.”
All the rooms in the house were searched; nothing. The roof was searched; no one.
Even the parked cars in the garage were investigated; not there.
The killer had vanished.
Darkness fell with even more foreboding than usual, and we administrators even let the few remaining contestants skip Hide and Seek.
Stacey fell asleep on the couch, cradling her fireplace poker.
n fell asleep on
the front porch, lead pipe in hand.
Erin went up to his room, tired and confused. He lay down on his bed.
A shaft of metal slid up through his stomach.
Of course...
The knife’s blade was long and thin, and the wound was enough to throw a lesser man into shock. It has pierced his stomach and punctured a lung. Gritting his teeth through the blood, Erin arched his back and pulled up off of the blade.
He threw the sheets off the bed and lifted up the mattress.
There, under his bed, holding the bloody knife with a very impressed and shocked expression, was Eight.
