Chapter 20: Lacerations Part 1

9:00 A.M. Day Eleven

First Floor

Art Gallery

Shiro had made his way over to the Art Gallery, hoping to have a 'moment' with Mackenzie.

They would've gotten to that by now, if not for the individual who had suddenly decided to actually have that offered tour of the Gallery.

"I must say, it's impressive that you managed to make so many paintings in so little time." Teresa complimented, hugging the Curator to her oversized chest as they walked through the expansive room.

"w-Well, it is my talent, after all." Kenzie responded, a slightly strained smile on her face as she struggled in the other girl's grasp.

"You really have to tell me about it all later, it's just so fascinating." The Sphinx seemed to intentionally avoid looking in the direction of the increasingly annoyed Executioner.

"So, don't you have any other friends to interact with?" said Executioner questioned. "I actually need 'Miss Alaestar' for important staff business."

"Oh, so sorry, I just need her for a moment longer." The taller girl insisted, holding the Painter even tighter to her. "We haven't even finished the full tour yet."

Shiro barely suppressed a frustrated growl.

"Though," The Mediterranean girl continued, looking in Shiro's direction, "if you don't mind my asking, how did you two come to meet?"

If the question surprised the crossdresser, he didn't show it, merely shrugging. "Not much to tell, actually. We met early in the last game, she was the first to work out what's under this dress, things escalated from there."

"Oh, the sole survivors of a tragic event, how romantic." The Sphinx commented cheerfully.

"i-it wasn't just us." Mackenzie muttered quietly, eyes downcast.

It was at this moment, however, that Sebastian entered the room, making his usual rounds. "Is there a problem here?" he asked, looking over the current occupants (and the Painter's face in particular).

"Oh, I'm just enjoying Miss Alaestar's lovely artwork." Teresa insisted, still looking as though she hoped to smother Mackenzie with her assets (she probably wasn't actively trying that - there were witnesses and the staff was off-limits, after all).

"She's loitering." Shiro deadpanned, looking over at Sebastian. "She's also distracting Mackenzie from her official duties as a staff member, which will probably just tick off Doctor Momota if he hears of it."

"Indeed." The Butler looked over at the Sphinx. "Well, Ms. Enchino, in the interest of keeping anyone from shirking their duties, I'd ask that you come with me."

Teresa scoffed. "We both know that these two probably just want a moment 'alone' together. Your just making more work for yourself and your sterilizing products later."

Suppressing a slight grimace, Sebastian responded. "Regardless, I'd still ask that you vacate the room for the time being."

"Even knowing what they're planning to do in here?"

"I have long given up on trying to dissuade them from such matters." The Butler deadpanned. "Now, if you don't mind?"

"Ugh, fine." Finally, the Sphinx left the room, the Butler trailing after her. Leaving the young couple, at last, alone together.

Mackenzie walked up to Shiro. "And just who're you calling 'Miss Alaestar', Miss Hayashi?" The Curator asked, mock annoyed at her boyfriend.

"Oh, like you have a problem with it." He pulled her in for a kiss.

The Gallery closed for roughly an hour.

10:32 A.M. Day Eleven

Outside

Courtyard

Elle was currently sitting on the courtyard fountain's rim, eyes on the ominous forest before her. Part of her was still morbidly interested in exploring out in the unknown reaches, another part of her was worried that was the talk of someone who should be on suicide watch. She wasn't sure if she was overthinking things or not, but she didn't like it either way.

"Well," she heard Alexis saunter over to the fountain behind her, but didn't bother turning around, "I was wondering what you may be doing when you ducked out the front door after breakfast, but I'd assumed you'd have gotten farther than the fountain." She stopped near the Paleontologist, looking down at her. "You don't seem unfit, so clearly you weren't tired by the vast distance." She chuckled. "Heh, but I suppose we are all aware of your stamina."

"What do you want?" Elle demanded, getting tired of the running commentary.

"Like I said, I was curious about your actions." The Brazilian confessed, sitting down next to the American.

"Oh what, worried the escaped accomplice will try something if it means getting off scot free?" Elle groused, glaring at the tree line.

"Oh no, not at all. It's not like I actually cared about that whole business." Alexis insisted, crossing her legs at the knee.

The Paleontologist side-eyed the other girl, incredulous at the seeming dismissiveness over 'that whole business'. "And yet I could hear some of what you were pulling with Adrien the night before he died. Clearly, we both have stamina to spare."

"... Well," Alexis finally responded flatly, "if you insist on remaining out here, why not keep an eye out for if someone runs into the hedge maze, make yourself actually useful."

That actually prompted a flinch. "How could I pull that off?" Elle questioned. "If someone kills it could be from anywhere."

"All you'd need to do is run in ahead of anyone if Kelley starts screaming. It's hardly rocket science." Uncrossing her legs, The Brazilian stood back up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll see if I'm allowed to talk to that Alchemist."

"Huh? Why?"

A shrug. "I'm just curious about the island's history, and he seems willing to share it."

Elle gave her a look.

"What? Do you think I've got someone set to die on a timer?" Alexis queried.

"It wouldn't be the first time someone died like that in a killing game." The Paleontologist remained unmoved.

"Well if I did that, I wouldn't just waste time talking to you. Heck, I could just kill you now and run for the maze, but I'm not, now am I?" The Latin-American Mythologist pointed out plainly.

"... What is Kinsei to you?" Elle asked, changing topics. "Is he your new stamina helper?"

"... Well, that's between me and him." Turning on her heel, Alexis stalked off into the maze.

Elle remained where she was.

12:17 P.M. Day Eleven

First Floor

Shawn's Room

Shawn was pacing in his room.

Again.

He had nothing else to do.

Not when they were probably plotting his death already.

Why wouldn't they be?

He would, in their place.

... He'd said all this before.

Thought this before, paced here before, all of this.

The motive just reminded him of it.

There was nothing he could do that he hadn't already done.

That was basically the story of his life at this point.

Why was that even surprising?

... It really wasn't, though; was it?

... He had to acknowledge some facts.

He wasn't sick anymore.

He could actually have a full life now.

No hospitals, no drugs, no doctors.

But it didn't matter.

He was trapped on this island.

He was stuck in this killing game, the weakest participant of the lot.

And just like it had been his whole, wretched life ...

He was still just waiting to die.

2:02 P.M. Day Eleven

Second Floor

West Hallway

Clarisse was currently prodding away at the door to the 'Despair Chamber', feeling around the edges and creases for anything worth finding.

"Hel'o." An Irish-tinged voice called out. Turning slightly, the New Yorker saw Kelley approaching. "What're y'doin'?"

"Conducting a private investigation." Clarisse explained, going back to her prodding. "I'm convinced that there's something worth finding around here." Giving the door a slight kick, she looked back at the green haired girl. "So why are you up here?"

The Banshee shrugged, arms crossed behind her back. "Jus' checkin' on e'eryon'. Figgerd it woul' help, us keep'n' an eye on each ot'er, wha' wit' this motive in place."

"Good point, I guess." Clarisse admitted. She jerked her head at the door. "C'mon, help me prod at this door. This might be a two woman job."

"I wouldn't bother if I were you." A voice called out from down the hall (causing Kelley to jump slightly). Kuuma approached them, smirking. "In fact, I'm quite certain I've already discussed this matter with you, platinum-blondy."

"What do you want?" Clarisse demanded, backing away from the door.

"Well, for starters, you all to die horribly and in despair." The homunculus explained plainly. "Aside from that, you backing away from the Despair Chamber's door will be nice."

"w-Wha's th' problem?" Kelley asked, moving next to Clarisse (and away from Kuuma).

"Don't bother, we've covered this song and dance already." Clarisse waved off. "He doesn't want this door to be locked, but he'll follow orders to keep it shut and stay quiet about it. And I'm guessing he still doesn't have the key on him."

"Wow. You aren't an idiotic forgetful blonde after all. Congrats, I'd wondered." The Ultimate Homunculus snarked, looking like he was actually impressed.

"Oh, insults to blondes aside, does it look like this hair can count as that type of blonde?" Clarisse complained, jabbing a finger at her platinum locks. "I should think not."

Kelley thought that still seemed insulting against 'those types of blondes', but opted to stay silent.

"Eh. Semantics." The dual-toned boy waved off. "Point still stands; no messing with the fancy metal door, alright?"

Clarisse huffed, moving herself and the Banshee to the other side of the hallway. "Fine. I'll admit, I probably wasn't going to get anything from this anyway, but still." She looked away, arms crossed.

"Good." The Homunculus nodded. He walked off, calling back, "Feel free to have a brutal fight to the death in the ballroom or whatever, but otherwise, adieu."

After that somewhat awkward farewell, Kelley looked over at Clarisse. "Shoul' we head downstairs?" The green-haired girl asked hesitantly. "Mee' up wit' th'others?"

Clarisse sighed. "Yeah, sure. You think there are any apples in the kitchen?"

"Eh. Prob'bly." At that they made their way back downstairs.

3:42 P.M. Day Eleven

First Floor

Billiards Room

Eric and Gary had met up in the Common Hall, and, realizing that they hadn't gotten to hang out much together before now, decided to play a round of pool in the Billiards Room. It was going about as well as most games of pool had gone in the mansion up until now.

"Aaaand, that's a strike." Eric declared, sending three balls into the holes.

"Still not sure that can work, but fine." Gary acquiesced, lining his own shot up.

"Do you think anyone in this building actually knows how to play billiards?" The Cryptozoologist questioned.

"I've been told it's not that hard, but," the Egyptologist shrugged, sending another ball down the holes, "I never really got into it, I'll admit."

"Yeah that's fair."

There was a moment of quiet as they focused on knocking billiard balls into each other.

"So, how are things with Victoria?" The American asked conversationally.

A lightly visible blush made its way to Gary's face. "Uh, t-they're okay."

"Oh?" And now Eric was starting to smirk. "Have you kissed yet?"

"... what of it?" The Egyptologist muttered.

The Cryptozoologist laughed in surprise. "Hah, wow you actually got that far, huh? Congrats."

Gary glared. "Well, how are things with you and Sabishī?"

A very visible blush suddenly ended up on Eric's face. "w-What on Earth d-do you mean?"

"Like we all haven't seen how you look at her? She's the only person here you look at that way, so..."

"n-No, that's not it." Now he was the nervous one. "w-We're just friends. w-We haven't even talked about anything like that yet."

"Going slow, huh?"

"Shuddup."

Clack

Eric sent the last ball down a hole.

"And that's my win." The Cryptozoologist announced proudly.

"So it seems." Gary admitted. He set his pool cue down and made for the door. "Well, I think that's it for me. See ya man." Giving a wave behind him, the Egyptologist left the room.

7:00 P.M. Day Eleven

Second Floor

Study

It was after dinner, and Clarisse had convinced Sabishī to help her go through the files in the Study in earnest. The hope was that the Staff might have files amongst the rest, information that could be used. Despite the lateness of the hour, Brooke and Victoria had decided to help them in the matter before heading to their rooms.

So far, it had been less than successful, all things considered.

"I swear, Shawn's file should be in this one." Clarisse insisted, thumbing through one of the books.

"What if that's not his real name, or he's using his middle middle name or something?" Sabishī suggested, looking over her own file (yeesh, some of these were uncomfortably thorough; she didn't even remember the names of all the graveyards she'd hid in over the last four years).

"Doesn't seem like it, but whatever." Brooke muttered, checking over Adrien's page. Honestly, she felt kinda bad for him after reading this; another Tragedy-orphan that was stuck living in a French orphanage after his hometown was napalmed. She suddenly regretted not getting to know him better before everything went down.

"Well, I found something about a 'Seishin Bondye', Ultimate Voodoo Practitioner." Victoria commented, looking over the file in her lap. "Apparently, he was in the same class as Jibo Momota himself. It seems that when Mr. Bondye came down with some undefined illness, Jibo brought him to this island for treatment."

"So, what? The Mastermind actually did something good at one point in his life?" Brooke asked, looking away from her now-closed book.

"Doesn't look like it, actually." Victoria explained, closing her own book. "The file seems unfinished, no word on if Seishin lived, died, or worse. Just that Momota made some, quote, 'groundbreaking discoveries' by studying his fellow graduate."

"Well that's sounds interesting and all, but has anyone found anything on the actual current staff yet?" Clarisse demanded, looking around at everyone. Looking at each other, everyone shook their heads. The Markswoman rubbed her hand over her forehead. "Right, great." She huffed. "O-kay, let's leave the current books on the table, pull some new ones, and try our luck then, alright?"

"Right, fair enough." Victoria agreed, the rest nodding. Standing, everyone moved to grab another book.

... when suddenly, a piercing shriek tore through the house.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Everyone who heard it instantly fell to their knees, clutching their ears from the sheer pain the call carried.

Eventually, the sound faded, and everyone's ears were no longer at risk of bleeding. However, they all knew, knew, in a way they could not explain, exactly what that sound meant.

Something had happened to Kelley.

7:09 P.M. Day Eleven

First Floor

Conservatory

The Ultimate Banshee was slumped against a (thankfully normal) tree, bleeding profusely from a large stab wound to the gut (courtesy of the similarly large golden spear laying a few feet away) and what appeared to be claw marks across her upper chest. Flecks of red marred the green of her brooch, and her white clothes were stained in blood around her injuries, the stains only growing by the second. However, even now she was still alive, if only just barely.

Which was a problem considering a spiked vine was slowly crawling her way.

Kelley could do nothing but stare at the approaching plant out of the corner of her eye, her already significant fear only growing as she realized a more painful death was upon her.

Slowly, the vine slithered closer, planting its thorns into the ground to push itself along, before rising up like a snake about to strike-

THUNK

-only to be struck as thin blades suddenly impaled themselves into the vine.

"Get her out of here, quick!" Brooke yelled, rushing over to the Banshee with Sabishī and Victoria. While the three struggled to carefully lift the girl, Clarisse was flinging knives at the vine. The plant writhed, as though in pain, before collapsing to the ground, partly severed by the blades.

Clarisse slammed a heel into the 'head' of the writhing vine, ending its movements. Quickly gathering up her weapons, she followed the others out of the room.

Everyone carefully set Kelley down in the hallway, trying not to jostle her. While Sabishī looked the girl over, inspecting her injuries, Victoria pressed her hands to the stomach wound, prompting a pained groan from the Banshee.

"Hold on there Kels, everything will be alright." Brooke reassured the green-haired girl. She looked over at Victoria. "Could you not press so hard?"

"w-We need to keep p-pressure on the wound, h-hold off the bleeding." The British-Egyptian insisted, trying to remain calm. It was barely working. "i-If we can hold the worst off-"

"I...I don't think there's anything we can do." Sabishī spoke up. "s-She's losing too much blood." She looked at the others, starting to tear up. "s-She's dying."

"Bullshit, there's gotta be something we can do!" Brooke yelled out.

"Brooke, yelling won't help." Victoria insisted, still trying to maintain pressure as her gloves and sleeves became stained.

"I can go get Syd, make him do something." Clarisse offered, taking a step in the direction of the infirmary.

"His office is on the other side of the floor, I'm not sure you can get there and back in time, even if he does cooperate." Sabishī countered.

"Well what do you suggest we do then, huh?!" Brooke complained (not noticing Kelley flinch slightly under her angry tone).

After a pause, Victoria moved her hands from Kelley's stomach and leaned past Brooke. She gently placed a bloodied hand on the Banshee's shoulder.

"Kelley." She asked. "Can, can you tell us who did this, who attacked you?"

They were all quiet.

"... t-t-Teresa," Kelley spoke up, weakly, coughing slightly. "I-it was Teresa."

A cold feeling settled over the girls. To actually hear someone be confirmed as an attacker, from the victim herself ...

"... She's not getting away with this." Brooke insisted, glaring at nothing before looking down at her dying friend with a determined expression. "We'll stop her before she can escape."

"g-Good t'know." Kelley coughed, blood and tears starting to mix. A grimace made its way to her face as the pain continued to ravage her body.

Even in a killing game, she hadn't actually thought much on the idea of really dying. Now, here she was, bleeding out on some foreign island, away from her remaining family, her mother and her oldest friend's sisters probably worried over not knowing what had become of them. She didn't want to die so far away from her dearest loved ones. She ...

"If were going after Teresa," Clarisse spoke up, "we need to move now t-"

"c-Can ya all s-stay here a minute, please?" Kelley asked quietly. They all still heard her. "I - I don' wanna die alone." She admitted.

"You're not alone." Brooke reassured. Reaching down, she grabbed Kelley's hand, clutching it tightly in her own. "You are not alone, Kelley Devlyn." She whispered.

Letting out a relieved sigh, Kelley looked over the group, breathing still erratic. "y-You all are some o'the best friends I e'er had. I-I love ya all, s-so much." The Irish girl shared, a pained smile making its way onto her face.

Brooke returned a forced smile of her own, tears starting to fall. "s-Same to you, Kels. We all love you too." Bending down, she placed a kiss on her friend's forehead.

Her breathing becoming weaker, more ragged, Kelley stared up at the ceiling, feeling herself grow colder.

... I love ya, Ma ... see ya soon, Da ...

Her face relaxed. Her hand went limp in Brooke's. The life left her eyes.

Kelley Devlyn, The Ultimate Banshee, was dead.

The silence of the moment as they realized this fact was deafening.

"... So, now what?" Clarisse asked Victoria, who remained silent.

"… Now," Brooke said coldly, standing up, "we find that sphinx bitch, tear off her wings, break her kneecaps, and after she's found guilty of- this, we convince the staff to let us perform the execution."

Victoria looked conflicted at her friend's words. "w-We both know that won't do anything to make this right."

Brooke was silent for a moment, backing away from Kelley's body. "I know. But still … it might make me feel just a little better." She looked at Sabishī.

"I-I'll stay here. Someone should k-keep an eye on her." The Undertaker stated. Clarisse nodded in agreement to that.

Brooke nodded as well. "Good. Do that." She turned around and made her way down the hall.

Victoria stood and followed after her. "w-Wait, Brooke. I know how you feel, but we have to -"

"Just follow me anyways." Brooke interrupted, not breaking her stride as they moved further down the hall, away from Kelley's body.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to risk getting more blood on Kelley."

"Wh-"

7:15 pm hit.

And the pain mixed with rage.

Dropping to her knees, Brooke felt the change coming, the agony that already began to rip through her body like a collection of white-hot swords. She didn't care. If anything, she welcomed it tonight. Claws and inhuman strength were precisely what she desired right now.

She growled through the pain, feeling spiked teeth wrench themselves out of her gums and line her expanding mouth. She clawed at her face (before and after the literal claws came out), desperate to get the mess over with so she could get back to her mission. Skin gave way as scales took its place. Gills pulled themselves free and filaments sprouted at the ends of her limbs. Through it all, she let out roar after furious, guttural, inhuman roar.

Finally, the painful tedium ended.

Digging her claws into the wall, she dragged herself to her feet, murderous desire keeping her moving forward. Looking back, she saw Victoria staggering to her feet as well, the blood from earlier soaking into her bandages. Seemed fitting.

"Did-" taking a stabilizing breath, Brooke looked further back to the others, "did any blood spray on-"

"No, you and Victoria were both far enough away from her." Clarisse reassured, having remained where she was (hands not leaving her blade-handles).

Brooke sighed in relief, looking down at the ground. "Good, good." Looking back up, she exchanged a glance with Victoria. The Mummy's glowing eyes still seemed apprehensive, as though she actually had a problem with hunting down and lynching a piece of mutated trash.

Brooke still didn't care.

The cold rage settling back into place. "Now," she growled out, "let's go gut a bitch."

She stalked down the hall, murder in her eyes.

[10 participants remain]

A/N: RIP Irish cinnamon roll. She really grew on me, surprisingly (and I may have had too much fun on that accent).

Also, if anyone tinks that just because the culprit got named that things will be resolved in the next chapter ...

don't.