“The final hour begins now.”
“She couldn’t of been dead during that time— it’s ridiculous.” Gloxer exclaimed, “We don’t know the effect the poison takes but— if it was poison.”
“It must’ve been the bloodloss from the knife that took her out.” Nil whispered, “If the figure I saw really camouflaged with the dark— they must of done it before Roxanne actually died.”“Before she actually died?” Gabriel chuckled, “If Richard did kill her— it’d be blood on his hands, he’d have to be the killer. Maybe refocus this into having her as her own murderer.”
“The rashes.” Jeremiah’s horns perked, “The rashes symbolise the poison right— if she was poisoned then.”
“Who says she was? There’s no evidence of no vial.” Richard smiled.
“Vial? Who said anything about a vial.” Zero laughed, “You idiot— a vial? You have powers— you could decay it with a simple touch. If you are the killer, you probably didn’t murder Roxanne with your dirty hands because it’d be so obvious— that’s what Paris meant.” The Imp glanced to the Guildford’s Prize who simply stared back— motionless as his eyes spiralled.
“She was stabbed in the liver— that means she had 5 minutes approximately before that. Did she write the notes before that time?” Famine puffed.
“Who said she even made them— it could just be bloody Richard.” Ilya spat— her eyes daggered at the boy who simply chuckled in his grey tracksuit.
“She wrote em. She wrote em— that’s her shit.” Richard chuckled, “You gonna accuse me of forging letters now?”
“Well what the hell can we do? You are the prime suspect!” Mog exclaimed, “You are her bloody boyfriend as you said— why are you the suspect?”
“Because people love tropes.” Nil giggled, “And if executed right— this can land the spot.”“The timeline— 9:00 starts the activity.” Saraline nodded, “Therefore Famine said he saw the culprit at 9:30, I’d assume that’s the time they got to Roxanne’s door.”
“Then at that time onwards before late 10pm as Nil said, they had their couch dent incident.” Felix raised his eyebrows, the corner of his eye directed at Richard, “What happened within that hour, Richard?”
“I was at my home— sleeping of course, my dream was I was talking to my loved— about the futility of life— it was during school time of course, college so I felt—”“Shut the fuck up with your stupid shit you bastard and actually get to the fucking point!” Zero yelled, “Stop with your cryptic lies and get to the truth! We know you done it!”
“Relax Imp.” Jeremiah twirled his lollipop, “Remember Roxanne’s notes, ‘deny, deny, deny’— he won’t let it up— maybe he will, when he’s about to die.”
“Oh really?” Richard laughed, “I didn’t kill her— end of.”
“Getting aggravated is what he wants, it’ll throw us off track— back to the timeline.” Lichness protested, “Between 9:35 to an unspecified time before late 10pm, something happened.”
“The usual time for sexual intercourse is a couple of minutes right.” Dara quietly gulped before blushing profusely.
“Not for me— I last thirty minutes or so.” Gabriel flexed his muscles, causing everyone else to recoil.
“If we go by his account and even assume Richard is that well— then it’d place the couch denting between 9:35 and 10:05.” Psylaiso claimed, she morphed circular glasses onto her face— an attempt to look educated.
“So something happened before 11pm correct.” Mog spoke.
“Yes— I’d be wholehearted in the belief I saw a figure come to my home at late 10pm.” Nil stomped her foot, “If it was Richard— it’d make sense due to the clothing, you believe?”
“What makes you think it’s me— what if my girlfriend decided to fuck another person.” Richard stared at the ground— his face churning, “We had some— problems before this event so… I wouldn’t doubt it.”
Zero laughed, “You seriously think we’ll buy something like that when it’s so half-baked.”
“Believe what you want— if I’m voted, I’ll die anyway— it’s your lives you should consider.” The boy lifted his head up— pointing around the room as he was trapped in his glass cage. “All I want is to live how my girlfriend wanted me to.”
“How much did your girlfriend love you?” Saraline spoke.
“She’d sacrifice anything— anyone…” Richard subtly chuckled.
“Doesn’t that fit more with what we believe.” Jeremiah interrupted, “If she’s willing to sacrifice anyone for you— would she mind killing us all for you?”
“Did she even know about that— I feel we only learned that aspect as soon as we started this trial.” Lichness scratched his chin.
“No— they would’ve remembered.” Dara told, “Remember what Paris stated when we all came here in the first place?”
“There will be one murderer, therefore one game. Screw this up and you all die they live— vice versa. I will personally and brutally execute the murderer… and I will be the only one who knows who it is! Why? Because it is just for the First Saint to do.”
“That bastard.” Gabriel clutched his mask— pieces cracking.
“‘Screw this up and you all die— they live?’” Jeremiah tilted his head— his gaze directed onto Paris, “So the victim already knew of the reward for winning— aside the Godhood for the killer.”
The punk didn’t blink or speak or move or even breathe— just sat on his throne.
“He’s angry.” Nil spoke, “Let’s avoid him for now. Until the end.”
“We gotta put on a good show for those at home right?” Richard mockingly jested, “So you believe Roxanne plotted this whole thing— just for her to die and I live? Why not the opposite.”
“Because you are the witch— you can’t just pass the witch hood away it’s now in your veins.” Felix bit his finger, “Richard was probably really scared— so he went to his girlfriends home, fucked a bit of the pain away before telling her what happened.”
“And after she devised this ‘plot’ as you’d say.” Mog spat.
“Mog? Seriously— you are willing to go back on a friend since childhood?” Richard clapped his hands, “How villainous.”
“What’s villainous is you playing this character now you’ve been caught— what happened to Richard, our Richard.” Ilya slammed her gun on the glass, Richard didn’t even move his head as he stared directly at Mog.
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The goblin grit his teeth, fidgeting with his veiny hands as swallowed saliva in his mouth, “You guys wanted to create an unsolvable plan.”— he began to tear up, “And decided— to fuck your friends over it. You know what, fuck you— fuck Roxanne’s bitch ass and fuck this Reprisal. My friendship tainted— with blood.”
Richard stood— frozen, before laughing.
“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! You fucking creep— you think I really am the killer? You went on a hero’s monologue for that? You want to kill me— over a thought.” He slammed his hands to his chest— shaking his head, “How would I trust someone like you to be my friend! When you don’t got ma back!”
“Typically poison activates quick— considering Roxanne’s adaptation ability, she must of been suffering for an hour at least.” Ilya bit her fingernails— bits and pieces flicking off like a wood chipper, “Fucking hell— if we go with Jeremiah’s shit… she really decided to suffer for someone like you.”
“Someone like me? I DIDN’T TELL HER TO KILL HERSELF! SHE WANTED TO! FOR MY SURVIVAL! WHAT DO I DO ABOUT THAT?” Richard yelled— before gasping and covering his mouth. He stood still— as the quiet befallen the room, before dropping to his knees.
Sobbing.
“From 10:05 to an unprescribed time— you talked to her, crying about this— how you were chosen and how you didn’t know what to do.” Famine smoked, “You were sad, pathetic as you are right now and decided to go to the one you love for support.”“And instead of support— she decided to enable this. As this can not only be attributed to you, but the challenge— you were forced, yes. Still murder— just…” Jeremiah’s hat stopped spinning as he gazed at Richard.
His glass was flooding with tears, each sob— each moan, a pain to listen too— as it encored and played in the background of the others.
“Before you leave the house— you show her the poison ‘vial’ as you said, she takes it from your hands and gobbles it down. We’ll designate this time— as 10:30. The rashes among her body indicate poison and it’d be brewing for a while, about to hit climax— but it didn’t.” Zero smiled— their twisted grin curved lines into their face as their eyes spiralled at Richard.
“She’s willing to do anything for you to live— so she goes to the shabby small kitchen in her fake house, and takes the knife— to sleep.” Dara gulped.
“You leave and you go to Nil’s home— you overhear the cleaning.” Gabriel shook his head.
“You tell me—”
Knock Knock.
Nil opened the door— in front of her was a dark figure, dressed in noir as the dark night enveloped the individual in shade. She gasped but felt a hand placed on her mouth— gagging her, it didn’t feel like a typical hand— just leather.
The figure was panting— the other hand grabbed onto their head, scratching— blood leaking out. Their voice was quivering— “Shut up…”— each breathe probably felt like a knife lodged in their gut, sharp needles piercing through their lungs as they spoke— “You make noise— not good, during this time.”
Nil’s eyes widened— the blood leaking from the head, the dark outwear— the shivering, it was a killer— in front of her, once again.
Her voice— muffled, muted as she attempted to break free from the hold, slamming her hands at the arm but— it didn’t budge, not once, not at all.
“Relax… or you’ll die as well— I got to live.” The figure gulped— shivering, quacking, twitching, scraping, scratching, seething— “I have to fucking live— for what I’ve done.”
They dropped her— before running off, each step fading out into the night.
Behind Nil was a loosely wired blue vacuum— her house resembled a pseudo aquarium— but that doesn’t matter now does it.
Nil stood— she recapped that day, as everyone stood still swell— motionless, silence.
The whole room were statues— actually mannequins or dolls as the screen like sphere which partially resembled an eye above them glowed, amusement of course.
The audience were joyous.
“He runs to his home— curtained by darkness. The guilt swallowing him whole— he’s unable to breathe without feeling cursed, was the Reprisal really worth such suffering? That figure was running— not to find a home but find a reason to live onward— for your girlfriend who brutally killed? No— for her happiness? What matters if you forgo your own.” Gloxer undone his tie, “So the bastard went to his home— he couldn’t sleep of course, it wasn’t a typical kill they done with the decay— you forget their faces. No— their poison vial was used on somebody they knew for more than a day— someone they loved.”
“Meanwhile the victim is suffering in her bed, rashes appearing all over her body as attempts to fight it— attempts to adapt. She partially succeeds— but that’s not what she wants. She wants the killer to live— forever, so she fights herself. She fights her own body— to make herself die.” Psylaiso grimaced.
“She decides that she won’t die without any other meaning— so she writes notes, a diary or journal entry to dedicate her love to Richard Lopez.” Ilya covered her face.
“Of course— from here it’s easy to see.” Felix laughed out loud, “She uses her dedication as signs for Richard— what to do once the murder is done, or is it murder? Who knows if you fed her the poison— or she just snatched it from your hands— her blood still remains defiled.”
“Key parts of the notes state, ‘to be sad the entire time’— check one. Who knows if you were acting— it’ll just make you more sick. Second states to ‘deny, deny, deny’— you clearly done it… until you failed.” Lichness rubbed his hands together.
“Last one says, ‘live for me’— she tried to make an unsolvable plan, ignoring the lives of the many just for you. True love isn’t it, Romeo?” Jeremiah grinned as he stared at Richard— who laid on the floor, quiet.
“Shut up.”
“What’d you say?” The Imp leaned their head to glass— mocking.
“I said shut up.” Richard stood up.
“Then she couldn’t take the pain any more and.” The Imp backed up from the glass— making a gesture of a seppuku. “Hazzah— she bleeds out in her bed, dead.”
“SHUT UP!” Richard yelled, removing his gloves and scraping at the glass.
It decayed.
The Imp laughed as the enraged valour darted from his position— running, just as how Nil saw towards Zero’s cage.
“I’LL KILL YOU BASTARD!” Richard’s yell rang out as he leaped towards the Imp— hand ready to decay the glass which was sheltering them.
“I’d say that’s the end for the final hour.”
Snap.
Richard was encaged once more— tighter, closer— he was placed in a straitjacket, for psychopaths— sitting in a white plastic chair, screaming.
“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Zero stared above and saw Paris’s nonchalant face— tilted towards Richard, his finger performed the snap. “Saved his life Paris— had spears ready to spin him.”
The First Saint of Evil ignored the Imp and spoke— “This is your final vote as this is the end of Hour Three. All those who vote the wrong individual sans the killer— will be killed alongside the most voted. Pick wisely— ensure the truth prevails. No electrocutions— you all did well, I’d say.”— a loud whimper from Richard’s cage emerged as everyone voted.
Richard yelled from his chair, “I vote— the IMP! THE DEVIL WHO DECIDED TO PLAGUE INVALIA— FLORIA AND OMALGA AS A WHOLE!”— his voice echoing throughout the room.
Psylaiso spat, “Richard..”
Saraline itched her neck, “Richard.”
Lichness chuckled, “Richard… Richard Lopez.”
Dara clasped her hands before whispering Richard’s name.
“Richard…. the Girlfriend Killa.” Zero tilted their head to Richard— seething, they stuck their spinal tongue at him before giggling, “Richard Lopez— the Girlfriend Killa— Fucking pathetic.”
Gloxer straightened his tie— he held his mouth for a while before sighing, “Ricky— it was Richard.”
Ilya fiddled with her gun before muttering Richard’s name hastily.
“Richard!” Famine smoked, “Richard Lopez! Killing your own is kind of evil— wouldn’t you say.” The ghoul tilted his head at Richard— who was attempting to break out their jacket— Famine laughed.
Jeremiah spat the excess of the lollipop, “Richard— such potential with that power as well— if only he was able to rebuild and not just destroy.”
Gabriel’s Thaponne mask spoke, “Roxanne— she’s the killer.”
Mog spluttered, “Richard— that son of bitch.”
Felix laughed extravagantly before dramatically posing and saying— “Richard, my killer.”
Finally, Nil stared at boy— he fell off his chair and tried getting up— failing and plummeting to the ground. Her eyes watered— pity, how disgusting— “Richard. Roxanne as well…”+
“I appreciate the votes— either vote could’ve been Richard or Roxanne, it doesn’t matter— we’ll execute them both shortly.” Paris’ monotone voice signalled throughout the room, as Richard laughed and Roxanne’s decaying corpse spun in the middle.
“What do you mean by that?” Jeremiah spat, “Why are you desecrating the dead?”
“I’ll do more than that— trust me, anywho— you got any last things you wanna say? I don’t mind how long, you’ll just die right after— doesn’t make a difference.” The Evil chuckled— staring at Richard.
“Hell yea—.”
“Wait— before that.” The punk got off his throne— walking over to Richard’s cage with a syringe, “I’ll take a suggestion I heard before that.”— he snapped his figure, the glass unlocking as if it was a treasure chest— as Paris dug to get the prize, Richard’s power. “Hold still— witch.” Paris grabbed Richard who attempted to run but— no avail, he stabbed the syringe into his vein, draining blood which had a purple haze.
“How do I do this?” Paris chuckled as he threw Richard to the side— leaving and relocking the cage and returning to his throne, “I’m the Evil— it’s my duty as a saint.” Paris stared at the screen above, “Ready to hear Richard’s last dialogue? You’ll see soon.”