Chapter 11: Toxic Love Part 1

8:05 A.M. Day Five

First Floor

Common Hall

Sometime after breakfast the following day, Teresa knocked on the door to Shawn's room. As expected, there was no response. She knocked again. "Shawn?" A third knock. "Shawn? Are you still among us assorted living beings?"

She thought she heard some shuffling behind the door, but otherwise nothing.

"Well, I was just wondering if you were interested in leaving your room. Today, maybe."

Still nothing.

"I just figured, did you want to spend the rest of your time cooped up alone in a room with no actual interaction with anyone? I honestly hadn't pegged you as a guy that preferred that sort of stiflingly clinical isolation."

There was sudden movement on the other side of the door. A moment later, it opened.

Shawn stood in the doorway, a surprised and suspicious look on his burlap face. "w-Why do you care about me being out of this room? And what was that about being isolated?!" He glared a little on that last demanding statement.

"Well, if you don't want to believe I'm acting out of genuine concern for one of my fellow captives," he scoffed almost-silently at that, "then just call it logical fatalism." At his understandably confused look, she elaborated. "It's entirely likely, and I'm guessing from your perspective an all-but-confirmed fact, that most or all of us will be dead soon." The Ultimate Scarecrow briefly looked angry and downcast at that (apparently accurate) assessment. "With that in mind, would you rather spend your remaining time just waiting in a small room until you inevitably die somehow, or should you at least try and enjoy your remaining days until then?I'm of the latter opinion, and honestly figured you'd be in the same boat there, if only to not spend anymore time in some sort of solitary confinement. And," she shrugged in a faux-helpless manner, wings ruffling with the movement, "I'm just the sort of woman who'd want everyone to accept that fact, if only for my own personal peace of mind that everyone's on the same page so to speak."

Shawn was silent, seeming caught off-guard by the Sphinx's statements, particularly the isolation comments that seemed to hit close to home. Finally, he stepped out of the doorway and to the side. "I guess I'll take a look around the library or something. A change of scenery might not be too bad an idea for today."

Teresa smiled, nodding. "Well, don't let me stop you then." Turning, she swaggered away in the opposite direction of the library, leaving The Ultimate Scarecrow to his own devices.

8:15 A.M. Day Five

First Floor

Dining Hall

After checking out several pertinent books from the library (honestly they'd been surprised they could even do that here), Victoria and Gary had adjourned to the Dining Hall (away from the ever-present Dragon Librarian) to conduct their own business.

"So, what do you know about Thutmose III's reign?" Victoria asked, going over the book before her. "Were you aware he reigned into his fifties and carried out several war campaigns?"

"Hmm, no, I don't recollect that. Not sure I've covered the Thutmoses much yet." Gary admitted, eyes roaming over the book in front of him. "But did you know just how many different sections there were to Ra's journey through the Underworld at night?"

"Well, I think it was one for each hour, but I don't recall what each one specifically was."

"Well, there's a lot of snakes, for starters. Like, a lot of snakes, and not just Apep."

"Wasn't it Apophis?" She asked curiously.

He shrugged. "Eh, either one really. Sources vary."

"Fair." She turned back to her book, only to look back up again a minute later. "So, out of curiosity, why did you get into Egyptology?"

He didn't seemed to have expected the question, but answered nonetheless. "Well, honestly it's mainly just because of how interesting the whole subject is. This is a culture that's over five thousand years old, with a mythology that went through multiple different forms across that time, and how much is really known about it all? Plus, helps me feel close to my mom."

The choice of phrasing at the end sent some 'approach tactfully' warning bells going in her head. "Oh? And your mother ... ?"

He looked down, a bitter smile on his face. "Yeah, she was Egyptian. She ..." he swallowed, "... she died when I was, really young. I didn't really get to know her before that. Researching this, learning her homeland's history ... I dunno, I guess it just, helps it feel like she's still around, or something, y'know?"

"I see. I'm sorry to hear about your loss, however far back it was." Victoria said sincerely.

He gave a thankful smile then, waving her off. "It's fine. I've accepted the whole thing." He looked her over for a second. "What about you? Do you have any particular reason for being interested in Egypt?"

She had been expecting that question. "Well, my dad is Egyptian, so obviously there's the matter of knowing his heritage. Plus, it's interesting..." She trailed off and looked down, an odd expression on her face. "Though honestly, I think it's more an," she waved a hand, almost dismissively, "illogical guilt or something."

He really wasn't expecting that. "'Illogical guilt'?"

She silently nodded, before elaborating. "My mother is descended from London archaeologists. They, alongside others of their time and field, made a name for themselves by finding the tombs of many pharaohs and, well, 'collecting' the findings for England and for themselves." She looked over at him. "Desecrating the dead, to cut to the point."

Gary wasn't sure how to respond to that, but felt he should all the same. "w-Well, I realize, but-"

But she was on a roll now. "Did you know that for awhile, it was some sort of fashionable trend to bring mummies back from Egypt, from their resting places, and hold parties in England dedicated to unwrapping the bandages, like some sort of sick children's game? It's honestly sickening to me, how little they cared about respecting the dead, as though they didn't even count because of who and what they were! Millennia of history, of culture, of my father's country just thrown to the ground and shat on by..." all at once, the steam seemed to leave her, and she slumped forward slightly. "... by my own mother's ancestors." She pulled her feet up onto the chair, resting her chin on her knees and wrapping her arms around her legs. "I know it doesn't make any actual sense, that it's stupid, that I shouldn't feel guilty for things that were done by people who weren't even alive when I was born, but still ... half my ancestors ravaged the other half's homeland. I, I honestly don't know how to feel about that." She stared down at the table, despondent.

Gary, likewise, was unsure how to respond. They were both silent for about a minute, processing their thoughts. "... Well," he finally spoke up, causing her to look at him, "I think that ... it is important to remember the mistakes of the past and try to correct them if you can. However, no, you shouldn't feel guilt, because you have no reason to. You're not your ancestors, and you'd be hard-pressed to find someone who doesn't have an ancestor of, 'troublesome disposition'. Heck," he let out a humorless chuckle, "I'm pretty sure some of my ancestors were Spanish Inquisitors, and yes," he held an index finger up, "finding that out, that was unexpected." That actually got an authentic chuckle out of both of them. "My point being, don't feel like you should carry guilt or the blame for what men of the past have done. You shouldn't be chained by the crimes of those you came from, not by my reckoning at least."

Victoria was quiet for several moments, processing what the Egyptologist had stated.

"... th-Thank you, Gary." She finally responded, looking over at the boy with a small but sincere smile on her face. "I - I think I needed to hear that." Suddenly feeling her cheeks starting to heat up, she turned back to her book, eager to find anything to change the topic back to something more lighthearted. "s-So, uh," she looked over the text, "di-did you know that-" she double-checked what she just read. The triple checked it out of surprise. "... That the Egyptians were apparently the ones who invented toothpaste?"

Not expecting such a tidbit, Gary looked across the table at the section detailing the mix of powdered ox hooves, ashes, burnt eggshells and pumice that apparently served the role of toothpaste in ancient times. "... No, I can honestly say that is something honestly new to me. Huh."

They sat in mutual surprised silence for a few moments, the heavy mood of the last conversation thankfully departed, before quietly deciding to move on to covering more well-known facts.

9:22 A.M. Day Five

Outside

Lake

Sabishī stood on the dock, alternating between looking up at the sky and looking down into the water. She was waiting near a pile of clothes; specifically, a tank-top and pair of shorts resting on top of a set of purple cowgirl boots that she couldn't help but think looked incredibly tacky.

SPLASH

Then the owner of those clothes jumped out of the water, landing on the wooden ground.

Sabishī had to admit, she hadn't expected the hot-pink strapless bra and underwear. Didn't seem like something Brooke would wear, but what did she know?

"So, did you find anything down there?" Sabishī asked as Brooke shook herself off.

"Well," Brooke responded, wringing her hair out into the lake, "there was a lot of general murky blackness from the water, seems to just be that way naturally," she slipped on her tank-top, "a lot of rocks, debris that was probably from storms," buttoned up her shorts, "and, admittedly a few things that looked like they might be pieces of skeletons, and not all of them necessarily human-looking at that," and pulled her boots back on, "but otherwise, there actually wasn't much else, not even any natural plants or animals." She smoothed out her clothes as she looked over the side of the pier. "At the least, we can let Victoria know that there's nothing dangerous down there, and I can confirm I can breathe underwater even as a human," she shrugged, "so I guess there's that."

Sabishī processed all the Floridian had said. "... Well, alright then. Should we be concerned regarding the potential bones?"

"I'd like to hope not, but we should mention them all the same." Brooke declared, looking back in the direction of the mansion as she redid her ponytail. "Maybe we can talk one of the staffers into mentioning anything, though I wouldn't hold my breath." She looked over to the younger girl, an eyebrow raised. "So, any reason you volunteered to come along as a lookout for this little excursion?"

Sabishī shrugged. "I wanted to help, is all." She looked down at the wood, downcast. "I didn't want to feel useless."

Concerned, Brooke placed a hand on the Undertaker's shoulder. "Hey now, you're not useless Sabi."

The Japanese girl scoffed slightly, looking at the taller girl. "Sure, you say that, but I wasn't much help when people died, was I? I never trained to handle an autopsy for a statue, and even Shawn could've noticed all the clues about everything if he'd bothered looking. What did I do, besides ensure Logan got caught and killed slightly faster?!" She quickly looked back down at the dock, mouth clamped shut.

Brooke wasn't sure how to respond to this. Had the Undertaker been stewing on that last bit since the trial? Leaning down, she looked the blue-haired girl in the eyes. "Hey, Logan was set to be caught no matter what, alright? What you did or didn't do doesn't change that, nor does that mean you were or are useless. You're still helpful as you are, and still important all the same. Don't ever think otherwise, okay?"

Sabishī chewed over that for a moment, then gave a small smile at that. "Thanks." She said earnestly.

Brooke nodded reassuringly. "No problem." She stood back upright, shrugging. "It's what friends do, yeah?" Sabishī nodded.

They shared a comfortable, peaceful silence for a moment.

"Let's get back." Sabishī said, Brooke nodding in agreement. Together, they made their way to the end of the dock.

"Also," Brooke added as they left, "let's let Victoria know I am never going back into that lake again, alright?"

Sabishī laughed. "Sure, shouldn't be any need for that anymore, I should hope."

"Exactly."

10:35 A.M. Day Five

Outside

Courtyard

Clarisse was standing before the fountain, looking over the mossy stonework, when Alexis finally arrived. "You're a little late." The Markswoman commented, arms crossed behind her.

"I had to take care of some personal business." The Brazilian explained dismissively, waving a hand in front of herself. "Now, you wanted to speak?"

The New Yorker nodded, looking around to ensure they were alone. "I wanted to ask about that dock," she stated, resting a heel against the wall of the fountain.

"Oh? And what of it? We were in agreement before." Alexis responded, crossing her arms over her chest as she also surreptitiously looked around.

"I can understand wanting to avoid any panic," the North American noted, "but what I want to know is what, if anything, you have planned concerning it?"

The South American raised an eyebrow. "So you suspect I'm 'up to something', then?" She scoffed lightly at that. "Ignoring the obvious matter that if I was plotting something I likely wouldn't tell you, no, I am not, in fact, planning anything in regards to 'that dock'." She walked over to another section of the fountain wall as she talked, eventually placing her foot on top of it, "As I established before, I'm not about to risk the idea of being eaten by a giant monster, so..." she trailed off and shrugged, staring silently at the fountain's waters.

Clarisse was a bit incredulous at that. "That's it?" She questioned, running a hand through her platinum locks, "No secret plans to run off on your lonesome?"

"Trust me," Alexis countered, "if I was interested in escaping that way, I'd've taken my chances at the time."

"... So how do you plan to escape?" Clarisse asked.

Alexis smiled(more like smirked) at the Markswoman. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Clarisse scowled at the other girl, realizing she wasn't going to get anything more - if there was anymore to get (which she was certain there was) - out of the Brazilian.

"Well," Alexis pushed off of the wall, "unless there was more you wanted to discuss, I think I'll take my leave now." She turned and walked away. "Adeus, sua puta americana." She called back as she departed.

Clarisse got the distinct impression she'd just been insulted. Discarding that for the moment, she turned back to the fountain, contemplating. She didn't trust the Latin American Mythologist, and whatever that woman had planned, Clarisse didn't intend to be caught off guard by her.

11:00 A.M. Day Five

Outside

Pool

Kelley rested her chin on her knees as she glanced down into the pool's crystal clear waters. It was a surprisingly clear day out today (though the clouds threatened to overcast soon), and the pool water was serenely calm, only minor waves and movements visible along the surface.

"Hey there," Someone called out. Looking up, she saw Eric approaching. "Come for the scenery or the pool?"

"Can't actually swim, so," she shrugged, standing up, "more the view than anyting."

"Fair enough." the boy replied, standing alongside the Irish girl and looking up at the blue sky. "Surprised there even is a good view in this place."

"Well, small mercies can hap'n, an' all that." The green-haired girl responded.

"Hmm."

They shared a few comfortable moments of friendly silence, looking over the sunlit forest beyond and pretending for at least a few seconds that all was normal in the world.

Finally, Kelley spoke up, hesitently. "So uh, if'n ya don' mind my askin', were there any, er, physical changes o'any sort from gettin' your talent?" Seeing he was surprised by the question, she tried to backtrack. "i-It's fine if ya don' wanna say anyting, I ge'it, really-"

"No no, it's fine," Eric reassured her, waving his hands rapidly. "Honestly, I haven't seen any physical changes to myself yet, unless we count my sudden encyclopedic knowledge of cryptids, so my answer to that would have to be 'no'." He looked over the girl. "And I'm guessing for you ...?"

The Ultimate Banshee let out a brief, self-deprecating laugh. "Yeah, I su'pose it's a bit obvious wha's chang'd abou' me, huh?" She held up one of her dark-green locks. "Ne'er mind the unnaturally pale skin - it was already kinda like tha' - my hair used t'be brown b'fore this, y'know? Now I look like I have a head o' shamrocks."

The Ultimate Cryptozoologist just shrugged. "Well, I think it looks good on you."

Kelley chuckled, waving her finger sternly at the boy. "Flatterer. It'll ge'ya nowhere wit me."

"Wasn't aiming for that, but good to know." Eric countered with a raised eyebrow. There was a moment of silence before the two laughed again.

"So," Kelley asked after she'd stopped laughing, "what brough' ya ou' here?"

He shrugged, "Just taking a walk around the grounds, thinking."

"'Bout what?"

"... Just s-something Brooke might've mentioned the other day." He looked over at the girl. "Hey, have you hung out with Sabishī much?"

The Banshee hadn't expected such a question. Thinking over it, she shrugged. "Um, not much rec'ntly, actu'lly. Why d'ya ask?"

The boy shrugged in turn. "n-No reason, just wondering if you knew much about her, is all."

"Well then, I should ask you tha'." The girl responded. "I tink you're one o' th'ones she hangs ou' with th'most here."

"Wh- r-really? I-I wouldn't say so?"

Kelley allowed a teasing smirk to grace her features as she stared down at the boy, crossing her arms while an eyebrow was raised. "Why d'ya tink Victoria had ya invest'gate the grav'yard toge'er?"

Eric said nothing, merely watching the clouds starting to cover the sun, cheeks reddening.

Kelley chuckled to herself, foot tapping slightly on the concrete. "Well, I dunno abou' you, but I tink I migh' ge' an early lunch, ya wanna come wi-" She suddenly cut off, as though she was having trouble breathing. Her expression suddenly gave way to horror as collapsed to her knees, narrowly avoiding falling into the pool. Before Eric could ask what was wrong, she clutched her brooch tightly in one hand as her hair began moving in a nonexistent wind, before a high-pitched wail arose from her diaphragm, stretching across the entire mansion grounds and possibly beyond:

Heeeeee-eeeeee, Heeeeeeee-eeeeeeeeee, HEEEEEEEEEEE-EEEEEEEEEEEE, HEEEEEEEEEEEE-EEEEEEEEEEEE-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Eric fell to his knees as well, hands clasped over his ears in a feeble attempt to protect from the piercing, haunting noise resonating from the girl before him.

Eventually, the wailing stopped. In its place, was Kelley crying. Recovering his wits, Eric pulled the Irish girl into a hug, which she returned tightly. They both needed it, considering what this meant:

Someone else had been murdered.

11:17 A.M. Day Five

First Floor

Hallways

Brooke and Sabishī had been hanging out in the Undertaker's room when they'd heard Kelley's wail echoing from outside. Recovering quickly, they dashed out of the room - not bothering to check on or notice anything concerning the surroundings of the Common Hall - and ran through the halls, trying to work out who the scream had been meant for and where they were. Neither had shared much thought besides that unspoken decision, but Brooke at least was hoping for one outcome in particular: If they could find the culprit with the victim before they could run off, then maybe they could head off any trials this time.

The problem was, even this one floor was huge, and for all either of them knew the culprit might've run off already, if they'd even been inside to begin with. Brooke growled mentally. If there was just some way to find-

She smelled something.

Stopping a moment, grabbing Sabishī's shoulder to keep her from continuing forward, she experimentally sniffed the air. There was a distinct, metallic tinge to the air all of a sudden. It was kinda coppery, like ...

"Brooke, what is it?" The Undertaker asked, confused. Ignoring her friend for the moment and following the scent, Brooke found herself approaching the door to the kitchen. As they got closer, the two girls heard someone running from behind them. Turning quickly, they saw Victoria round the corner and sprint towards them from down the hall. "Brooke! Sabi! What-"

Brooke held up a hand, directing Victoria towards the door. "Do either of you smell that?" Stopping near her, Victoria sniffed the air, as did Sabishī.

"I can't smell anything unusual." The Japanese girl stated. Victoria remained silent, eyes widening as she also finally noticed the copper smell.

Wasting no more time, Brooke threw the door open and ran in, Sabishī and Victoria following behind her.

Before them, was a horrifying sight.

Adrien deGyle was laying on his back on the floor, half-mask a few feet away from him. A butcher's knife was lodged through his chest, his tuxedo shirt and jacket soaking in blood.

The Ultimate Opera Phantom was dead.

And the game had started up once again.

[12 participants remain]

A/N: And so begins the second case. Tune in next time for the investigation.

And yes, the toothpaste thing was a surprise to me too.