Things were going well, so alarmingly well in fact that he was beginning to worry that perhaps they were going too well. Though he had meticulously planned everything down to the last detail, the plan was so elaborate that he had spent the evening on edge, on high alert, prepared for something to go wrong. The fight between Emily and Jess had provided an excuse for him to split the group up – how completely predictable they are, he thought derisively – and Mike and Jess had happily flounced off to the cabin. No doubt they were enjoying themselves and he smirked at this, though it was concealed beneath the ugly mask he was wearing. It was good that they were having fun. After all, they deserved it. Better to have as much fun now considering what was to come later, right? Damn right he had plans for them but he couldn't be everywhere at once so they would just have to wait.

Emily and Matt's absences had been a happy accident. He had been planning to send them off on their own adventure but Emily's missing bag had provided the perfect opportunity for them to leave and, best of all, it had avoided any suspicion directed at him. Sending one couple off for a romantic romp was all well and good but two would probably have raised some questions – they'd only just arrived, after all. Emily's demanding tone had ensured they had gone to look for it and, as they'd left the lodge, he had almost felt sorry for Matt. Then again, Matt had willingly entered a relationship with her, knowing full well how high-maintenance she was. Emily was smart and yeah, he could appreciate her good looks, but the downsides outweighed those assets, for him at least. Perhaps Matt saw more in her than he did, though his weary expression as he left the lodge with her had suggested he was fed up.

"You make your bed and you lie in it," he said out loud, jumping slightly at the distorted tone that echoed slightly in the decrepit hotel corridor. He'd forgotten about the voice modifier in all the excitement.

Oh yes, it had been exciting. There had been some anticipation during the painfully long hours he had put into planning and setting up his scheme. It had awoken something within him, something other than the overwhelming sense of hopelessness he had experienced since that day. He had thrown himself into the preparation, it had been a welcomed distraction and he was somewhat grateful for it, though he knew it was temporary. He had felt a strange kind of guilt at the relief etched on his parents' faces once he had started planning. He knew exactly what they had thought: he's getting better! He's active and lucid and energetic, he must be! He couldn't tell them the truth, the reason behind his sudden drive and energy. It was obvious they would think his plan was ludicrous, but the bigger reason was he couldn't bear to shatter their hopes. Especially his mother, whom he had felt closer to in the recent years. He hadn't forgotten in the sea of grief: they had lost two daughters when he had lost his sisters. They had felt the anguish, pain, even guilt. He had heard the two arguing, his mother particularly cut up and angry that they had bought the damn mountain in the first place. She blamed herself and he understood because he had blamed himself for his lack of actions, before the growing resentment for the others had started. If he hadn't been so out of it- no. Thinking about that now would not be good. He had things to do.

The anticipation was nothing compared to the actual execution of the whole thing. He had barely stayed still in the hours leading up to his friends arriving at the lodge, checking and double checking his plans, carefully hiding cameras and props in safe, easy-to-access places until they were needed. Placing photos of his sisters around the lodge so they wouldn't forget, despite the crafted responses he had prepared to make them think he was "over it". Locking doors so he could control exactly where they went. Yes, he had been rather looking forward to it and he allowed himself to enjoy the feeling.

They had played their parts beautifully so far. Mike, Jess, Matt and Emily had exceeded his expectations by disappearing exactly when he needed them to, leaving him to begin the game. He certainly intended to involve them as much as the others but had to stagger the events as it was physically impossible for him to get them all at once. Separating them had been necessary as the risk of being discovered was too great if they were all present in the lodge. The numbers had been reduced and the plan was set into motion. Ashley and Chris had remained in the room, enabling him to deliver the set-up in the form of the Ouija board. It had been hit-and-miss on what Sam's actions would be but she had opted out of the séance, no doubt mostly due to Chris' prank in the basement as well as her own unease toward the supernatural. He would have to thank Chris later for that – Sam had inadvertently isolated herself and it was perfect.

His footsteps echoed heavily in the dim corridor as he walked slowly toward his destination. He had to congratulate himself on his acting skills and felt a sense of satisfaction at the outcomes so far. Chris and Ashley had delivered very nicely in terms of their actions and reactions, believing the séance was real and that he had believed too. They couldn't possibly have suspected that he had been the "spirit", the one manipulating the board. Not when the subject matter was so delicate for him and he knew the thought hadn't even occurred to them. They believed and had gone treasure-hunting for clues before the next stage began. His shriek of anguish had certainly been effective, causing Ashley to blindly run into the kitchen where he had managed to subdue her before Chris had burst in. Chris had entered the kitchen slightly too early so his method of knocking the blonde out had been rather brutal. He hadn't had time to go for the gas and hoped his good friend wouldn't hold it against him too much.

But oh, the events that had followed. Ashley's horrified reaction to waking up to a rather unpleasant situation. He hadn't seen it, of course. Pretending to be unconscious meant he hadn't received any visuals but she had been pretty vocal about the whole situation. Her whimpering and fear were strongly evident and keeping from smiling had been surprisingly difficult. How ironic after months of feeling unable to smile. Chris' arrival triggered the beginning and he threw heart and soul into acting the victim, terrified for his life. Begging Chris to save him. Yelling that he was doing better now, that he was Chris' buddy. It would have been so unfair of Chris to choose to kill him if he was doing better. Through his fake fear, he had studied Chris' reaction and would've been lying if he'd not felt some guilt. Chris was his best friend and he had placed the guy into a horrific situation, having to choose between his friends, living with the consequence of that decision. Had Chris really deserved it? Chris had played no part in the prank, after all.

But that was it. He huffed slightly under the mask and his footsteps fell more heavily as he contemplated his best friend. Cochise, as he affectionately called him. If Chris were so innocent in all of this then he wouldn't have involved him at all. But was Chris really so innocent? If Chris hadn't gotten so blind drunk with him that night, he could have done something. They had drunk together and drunk so much to the point where they had both passed out in the kitchen. Chris shouldn't have allowed it to get to that point, he thought, feeling a very brief surge of anger. He had seen the doubtful looks on Chris' face as he had continued drinking but he hadn't actively stopped him or discouraged him from drinking. It was probably unfair to blame him for something like that considering Chris hadn't known what would transpire that night. How could he have known? But the biting twinge of resentment refused to leave and, as such, he couldn't eliminate his best friend from the game.

Besides. Now Chris and Ashley would have that traumatic event to bond over. How romantic. He sneered beneath the ugly mask, unable to squash his disappointment. Chris had chosen Ashley over him. The thing had been rigged to "kill" him anyway but they hadn't known that. How long had he and Chris been friends for, now? How much had he confided in Chris about his treatments? And yet, when it came to it, he chose his crush over him. Bros before hoes – what a load of shit. After everything they had been through together.

It hurt.

He exhaled sharply and tried to quash the feeling of betrayal. He could feel angry later because right now, something much more important was happening. To him, this was the most exciting and rousing part of the plan and to say he had been looking forward to it was an understatement. The adrenaline still flowed within him and he revelled in the exhilaration he felt. The thrill of the chase – she certainly hadn't disappointed.

He looked down at her, the unconscious girl in his arms. Her features were relaxed which was a stark contrast to only a few minutes ago, when they had been etched with terror and, to his surprise and pleasure, determination. He carried her carefully, his precious cargo, not wanting to hurt her. You already did that, a voice that sounded irritatingly like Dr. Hill's reminded him.

"Shut up."

The good doctor was right, though. Her knee was bleeding and bruised and there were marks on her shoulders from where he'd grabbed her. That did prompt some guilt and he sighed unhappily.

"You shouldn't have run, Sammy."

But he would have been disappointed if she hadn't. It would have been too easy, unsatisfying and dull. She had put up one hell of a fight and he had enjoyed every second of it. Hell, her first instinct had been to throw a vase at him, something even he couldn't have anticipated. It caught him off guard, he moved to defend himself and she ran. The game had begun and he had grinned under the horrifying mask he wore before following her.

Out of everyone that evening, he felt Sam had been the least deserving of the terror he'd been inflicting. Kind, warm, beautiful Sam. Sam had understood the devastating loss because she had experienced it acutely herself. As Hannah's best friend and also being close to Beth and himself, she had been hit hard by the events of that evening. She had never outwardly admitted it but he knew she had been consumed with guilt at her part, or lack of, that night. She hadn't been able to stop the prank from going ahead and had advised Mike against following Beth when she had gone after Hannah. As inadvertent and completely unintentional as her actions had been, they had played a part and he could tell she'd felt awful for it.

Perhaps that was why he'd had to involve her in his plan. Regardless of his prior feelings toward each of his friends at the lodge, there was an unwavering strand of anger he held and couldn't let go of toward them all. He felt more disgust toward some more than others, which was why he'd felt some discomfort about involving Chris and Sam. He held Chris somewhat accountable for his own inebriation and, despite their close friendship, felt the burn of anger toward him, though not nearly as much as some of the others. Sam, though… she was a tricky one. He had seriously contemplated leaving her out of the whole thing but the implications of doing so were too dangerous. Without locking her into a room, which would have caused a large fuss from her, no doubt, there was no way of keeping her separate from the others or preventing her from discovering his scheme. Not inviting her to the lodge would have aroused far too much suspicion and would probably have caused her to be hurt and confused. Maybe she would have stopped speaking to him. The thought made him uncomfortable and somewhat distressed. He didn't want to lose her. She had been incredibly supportive in the past year and, though overall he was drowning in sorrow, guilt, anger and despair, her actions had played a part in stopping him from doing something drastic.

Well, apart from the plan.

You're probably going to lose her now. Do you think she will forgive you once she finds out the truth about this elaborate scheme?

Why did all of his rational thoughts take the form of Dr. Hill? He loathed admitting it, but the "psychiatrist" was right. He angrily smothered the voice, or thought, or whatever it was. He looked down at Sam again and his confidence evaporated. "She will," he said quietly, though the soft tone was lost amongst the distorted noise of the voice modifier. She had to, right? It was Sam, after all. Sam, who was one of the very few remaining happy points in his life as it stood right now. She had always been so understanding, so willing to listen. Why would this be any different?

Other than the fact that you've scared her half to death, caused her injuries and knocked her out?

"Shut UP," he said angrily. He had reached his destination, the small room that would serve as the next point of contact with Chris and Ashley, if they followed the bait. He gently placed Sam on the chair that sat close to a video camera he had set up earlier. His moves were deliberately gentle. She didn't deserve physical injury and he already felt loathing toward himself for having already inflicted some. He stared down at her face, which was framed by dishevelled blonde strands, and noticed the beginnings of a small bruise on her forehead. That wasn't there before. She must have sustained it during the chase and his stomach squirmed uncomfortably.

It had been exhilarating, though. The video had been necessary so she would believe. Otherwise there would have been a real danger of assuming her friends were pranking her and that part of his plan would have failed. The terror in her voice as she had realised what she was watching was quite something but it was the shouting of his name that had caused his pulse to quicken with excitement. Her reaction to his "death" had made him feel elated and it was the fact that it was her that made the whole process enjoyable. If it were Ashley or Jess or Emily in Sam's shoes, it wouldn't have been what it was. He doubted any of them would have been as resourceful as Sam, though maybe Emily would've come up with something to fight back with. The prospect of chasing Emily didn't ignite nearly as much excitement as chasing Sam, though. Sam was… special. Following the sound of her soft but frantic footsteps down to the basement, her panicked curses and agitated breathing – the thought alone was enough to make him smile.

At one point she had hidden and he'd thought he had her. Hiding was never going to have worked out for her as he knew the basement too well. Indeed, likely her own realisation of this fact had caused her to make a break for it but he had caught her. He couldn't initially fathom why there'd been a sudden explosion of pain at the side of his head and she was suddenly free of his grasp, until he'd seen the baseball bat on the floor. He'd felt sharp spike of annoyance as he recovered and resumed the chase because damn, that had hurt. But he was also impressed with her resilience and resourcefulness and besides, the lack of a door handle on the next door would stop her in her tracks and allow him to catch her-

-except she had fought her way through the door and shit, he had started to panic at that point. He had a back-up plan in the form of a dummy and her clothes, but if she'd escaped and bumped into Chris and Ashley before they arrived at the basement, the next stage of his plan would have been thwarted. He had changed his path, listening carefully for her movements and had traced her to a corridor that led her right to him. She'd run through the open doorway and straight into his arms and he had been the picture of relief underneath the mask. The butterfly was in his net and the plan was able to proceed as expected.

"Sorry, Sammy…" He looked down at her unresponsive form and there was a twinge of regret. But it had been necessary. "I promise it's over for you."

It isn't though, is it? Dr. Hill again. You think she will forget what just happened when she wakes up? When she wakes up in a strange place, alone, injured and terrified for her life?

He shook his head. "Stop…"

When will you open your eyes, hmm? See the damage you've inflicted through your actions?

"Stop it…" He put his hands over his ears. He was wrong. Once they all knew why he'd done this, they'd understand.

You're driving them away.

An eye for an eye. Once this was all over, they'd be even. They'd understand why it had had to happen.

They won't be there for you anymore.

… Right?

You've done too much damage. Once they recover from this, they'll be gone. And the ones closest to you will be the first to leave.

"Please stop…"

Chris will hate you for putting Ashley in danger. Your oldest and best friend and you've cut yourself away from him. You're isolating yourself and you only have yourself to blame for it.

"No, he won't, he'll get it, she was never in danger, he'll see that…"

And Sam. His heart ached. The one who listened. The one who stayed with you through it all. You've pushed her too far this time.

"No, I-"

Take a good, long look. This will be the last time she isn't looking at you in disgust.

"Don't-"

Anger.

Oh god.

Fear.

What had he done?

No more smiles or hugs or reassurances. No more of her laughter chipping away at the darkness. No more friends. And it is all down to your cowardice and selfishness-

"Aah…"

-and the fear that you refuse to acknowledge! Such a fear of isolation… ironically, you have brought about your own destruction. You make your bed and you lie in it-

"ENOUGH!" His distorted voice echoed through the room and the ferocity behind it startled even him. He blinked rapidly a few times and took in some deep breaths to steady his elevated heartbeat. Mercifully, the noise had stopped. He sighed heavily. "I know. I know."

It was too late to go back now. He felt his resolve return somewhat but found he couldn't look at Sam. There was a reason he was doing this and he had to see it through to the end. Hell, he wouldn't gain anything from stopping now, would he? They'd react just as badly now as they likely would once he'd finished. And didn't he owe it to everyone to put on the best show he could? To his sisters? They were the reason behind it all – the painful injustice of their deaths was too great to just forget and put behind him. His friends needed to know that their actions had driven them to their demise.

Friends. Not for much longer, he expected. He turned, forcing himself not to look at the girl in the chair. He knew he'd have to return later to secure her to it so she couldn't intercept anyone and knew his resolve would crumble again once he saw her. But now, he needed to focus. Chris and Ashley were likely on their way down to the basement. He had to go and check on their progress and prepare the next stage of the plan. He pushed through the doubts in his mind and forced himself to think through the next part and double check the details.

The show must go on.