**written by: blueTshirts**

12:51 AM

This can't be happening. This can't. This must be some kind of shock, right? Like psychosis or something? Doesn't that happen to people in traumatic situations?

I stare down at Sasha, my friend, my sister, someone I'd easily jump in front of a bullet for, and that list has no more than a few names on it; she's falling apart. Images flash in my mind of the millions of zombie movies I've watched with my two closest friends and remember what people look like as they're transforming into the undead.

The blood, the sweat, the confusion, shortness of breath, twitching limbs and crying out for their loved ones. Sasha lays in front of me likes she's resorted to complete disarray. She's covered in her own blood and puke. Her eyes barely focus on Marco as he's trying to get her to look at him. Her amber irises flitter behind her eyelids or wander aimlessly around the dusty wooden walls of this hellhole. Her body moves on it's own as her knee continues to straighten and release on its own. Her shoulder tenses forwards and the corner of her mouth pulls down. Her fingers twitch in my grasp. I hold on as tight as I can so her seizing muscles won't take her hand away from me.

"What's happening?" Connie cries, his voice hitching in the back of his throat as he tries to fight back tears. He looks up at Marco, begging and pleading, hoping that the poor second year medical student can help. But I can tell that Marco doesn't know. He's terrified. I can see it in the way he continues to do the same things over and over again like something's finally going to work.

But it's not. Nothing will work. Just look at her.

"Marco!" Connie screams.

Marco shakes his head looking down at Sasha with the same hopeless dread that I feel. He looks at Connie. Something inside my gut flips and twists. Marco's given me that look before. Once. It was so long ago that my brain feels like it's stumbling amongst unwanted buried memories and the severe stress of this singular moment. At least it feels like it was a long time ago.

A little over two years ago. I was in the hospital. I'd cut myself so bad that the blood wouldn't stop. It wasn't like I busted an artery or anything, but I needed stitches and a psychiatrist to slap me in the face. It was the one semester I went to college. Worst time in my life besides Marco. He came to see me in the hospital. He hadn't known any of the things I was going through. I never told him. Sasha and Connie brought my new boyfriend to see me without asking me.

He looked at me with those eyes. Those pretty brown eyes that lost all signs of fight. He was so overwhelmed with shock, fear, pain, that he couldn't come up with a way to give me strength or hope. He was lost that day. The Marco that I'd started to fall in love with, the Marco that saw life as an opportunity to help people, that fought even when it was time to give up, that was willing to try harder and stretch farther just so that the people around him that couldn't would succeed, my Marco, had lost himself.

He looks at Connie now like he has nothing left to give, that there's nothing he can do, that there's no hope.

My brain short circuits. It stops working. The fear, the pain, the stress, it all stops. I watch Sasha give into her body's convulsions and fall into a full out seizure. Her eyes roll into the back of her head and her body vibrates with twitchy movements. Marco moves to roll Sasha on her side and hold her head in his lap. Sasha's hand slips out of my loose grip. My fingers are left hanging in the air unoccupied.

Sasha is dying. She's dying like the rest of us are doomed to. Marco was nearly killed. Ymir's dead. Historia's dead. The car's are dead. The phone lines are dead.

Our future is fate at this point.

I hear Connie yelling at Marco, at me, for Sasha.

Sasha's body stops moving. As quickly as it started it's stopped. Sasha's head is turned away from me. All I can see is her hair in a messy bunch with stray pieces of straw and leaves stuck in it. She's no longer moving. None of her. Not even the jerky twitching. She's completely still.

Connie leans down to her face, his trembling, blood slick fingers do their best to softly move strands of hair from her face. He's calling to her. Hoping for a miracle. We all are. But if a miracle were to happen tonight, it's lost its chance.

Marco searches for her pulses, again, and again.

He shakes his head. His beaten head that had just got repeatedly bashed with solid ground not twenty minutes ago. He's in pain. He's been in pain even as he's trying to help Sasha. But he'll do what he can to save her. He always will.

Marco flips Sasha again onto her back.

Her eyes. My breath hitches. Historia and Ymirs eyes flash into my mind. Open, dull, lifeless.

Sasha's dead.

Marco props himself over Sasha and curls his fingers together to start chest compressions. Connie's screaming, crying, praying for someone to save one of the only people he's loved in this world.

But Marco knows his efforts are futile. He knows. Look at this. There's blood everywhere. Sasha's innards are probably in no better shape than Historias bludgeoned guts. But still he tries, if not for Sasha then at least for Connie.

I watch Marco put whatever remaining energy he has into reviving Sasha. Sweat drips from his temples to his nose. His chest heaves exhausted breaths and his scratched and bruised arms shake with every compression.

I watch until I can't.

I slowly lift my hand to grab loosely onto Marco's biceps. He ignores me. My heart deflates. I turn to look up at Reiner who's standing back near Berthold. Reiner has his hand on Bert's shoulder who's crumpled on the ground. Reiner has this stiff expression on his face. He knows just as well as I do.

I swallow and turn back. I fist my hand into the material of Marco's torn shirt.

"Marco," I say. I'm not sure if he hears me. Connie's wheezing sobs fill the barn. I pull on Marco's shirt again. "Marco, stop," I try to say a bit louder. There's no fight to my words. Somewhere in my head I don't want Marco to stop. But we can't do this for the rest of the night. Sasha's gone.

Marco doesn't stop. He keeps going. Tears collect with his sweat and drip onto the bloody stains covering Sasha. He's losing his rhythm, even if the compressions could work they wouldn't now. Marco's getting sloppy, he's getting tired, he's coming to his senses.

I grab his elbow that easily gives as I pull him towards me. Marco collapses into my lap as his back shakes as he cries. I wrap my hands around his back and his head to try and sooth his exhaustion. He hides his face in my jeans. Maybe he doesn't want to see another dead body, maybe he doesn't want to see the horrible look on Connie's face.

Connie's cries have stopped. The panicked screaming and frantic yelling has died into a frozen silence. He looks at Sasha, his eyes bloodshot to hell and swollen with tears. He stares at Sasha with almost a smile on his face. It's a horrifying mix with the tears still streaming down his face. His hands hover over Sasha's stilled body like he doesn't know what to do with them. He knows there's nothing he can do either.

I watch Connie. My chest hiccups with a cry. I sympathize with my friend. He's an arm's reach away from me and I can feel the pain radiate off him in waves. His partner in crime. The person that made him feel loved despite all his insecurities. The person he became better for, the one he wanted to be happy more than himself, the one that he'd rather die for than let be killed. She's gone.

He blinks once more tears spill over his cheeks. He lowers his hands to grab his knees, he hangs his head between his shoulders.

"Connie," I say. I lift a hand to reach out to him. To hold his hand or pat his shoulder or rub his back, anything to know that he's not alone right now, to make sure he's still in reality.

He doesn't give me the chance. Connie stands in a swift movement and turns on his heel. He goes straight to where Berthold and Reiner are standing. Marco perks his head up as he notices the sudden movement.

"Connie, man-" Reiner starts but Connie doesn't give him the chance to support him either. He shoulders his way between the pair and reach to the floor where the-

"Connie!" I yell twisting frantically and scrambling to stand on weak legs. I lunge towards him. Reiner doesn't realize what Connie's doing until he sees my reaction and then proceeds to do the same in stopping the kid.

But Connie's fast and quickly breaks into a run when he hears me. He books it around Reiner and to the door with the shotgun that was at Berthold's side.

Reiner reaches to grab the back of Connie's shirt but misses. Reiner stumbles but continues a step behind me. Marco and Berthold are both yelling at Connie from deeper inside the barn. The air is thick with tension and humidity of heated breaths. My chest crackles burst of painful energy. I feel like my body is getting sick of this shit.

Connie reaches the door and immediately pushes it open. But the slight pause gives Reiner enough time to leap forward and grab the hatch lock above Connie's head and pull the door back to close.

Reiner nearly body slams Connie but stops just clear of him, mindful of the obvious shotgun in Connie's hand.

"Fuck off Reiner!" Connie screams as he shoulders the door in the small pace under Reiner.

"Drop the gun idiot," Reiner barks back.

"Connie-" I start before stumbling back when a shotgun barrel almost whacks me in the face.

Reiner leaps back too when the double barrel shoves right at his sternum. Reiner and I stand with our hand held up staring at Connie as he aims the gun between the twos of us.

The temperature in the barn drops.

"Connie," I manage to say with only a slight tremble to my voice. "Don't be stupid, we can get out of this together, alright?"

"Just like we fucking escaped the house together? Because we're all doing great, aren't we?" Connie growls back, his aim raises to my face. "Don't try me right now Kirstien, I have nothing else to lose."

My chest echoes with another hollow ache of pain. He still has me. "So you're going to kill me?" I ask through gritted teeth.

"If you get in my w-"

A massive hand slaps down over the barrel of the gun and is ripped out of Connie's hands. Reiner heaves the thing over his shoulder to hold it like an upside down baseball bat.

"Don't try me right now either, dickhead," Reiner says, baseball bat gun held at the ready.

Connie's eyes lower into a glare. He looks from me to Reiner and then to someone over my shoulder. I glance back to see Marco standing behind me ready to jump in at any moment. I wince at my disheveled boyfriend looking beyond repair as he continues to protect the people he loves when it looks like he can barely protect himself.

I look back at Connie.

"What am I supposed to do Jean?" Connie asks his resolve finally falling apart completely.

I feel tears burn behind my eyes as Connie starts to fall apart in front of me. His hands lift to clutch his head. He bends to scream at the top of his lungs.

I flinch at the noise, but Reiner swoops a hand down to grab Connie's face at his mouth to shut him up.

"Shut the fuck up!" he yells, ironic.

I grab Reiner's arm and yank him away from Connie. "Let him."

Reiner shoves at me but I don't let go. "If the killer didn't know where we were before he sure as hell does now-"

"There's no killer," I say with my attention still on Connie. His scream ends in choking sobs, he coughs around thick saliva and empty lungs. He stumbles forward and I go to grab him.

I try to hold him and hug him and cry with him but he pushes me away like an angry cat. He sobs as he elbows me and pounds on my chest. I move around him to hug him from behind trapping his arms at his side so he stops clawing at his head. Connie still tries to wiggle out of my grasp but he gives up and falls to the ground with me on his back.

He cries and cries. I keep my chin hooked over his shoulder and my arms wrapped around him. My own eyes leak with tears and my throat aches with strain.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," I say until I can't say it anymore. "I'm here Connie, I got you."

It takes a while for Connie to come down, but no one rushes him. We all need the time. Sasha has died right in our hands, and Ymir has been dead for who knows how long. We need time to regroup, to give our brains and our bodies a break, to give up fractions of moments to mourn.

Connie sits bent in half with me sitting behind him rested over his back and my cheek flat against his spine. I almost fall asleep. I feel like I could sleep forever.

I notice Reiner's boots shift in front of me as he sits on the floor with me and Connie. He looks at me with a frown on his face.

I sit up, releasing Connie only to keep both of my hands on his back. I rub his shoulders and the planes on either side of his spine. He doesn't move.

"What happened to you guys?" Reiner asks.

I sigh. Right, I guess we have to talk about that now.

I let my eyes rest and follow my hands against my friends back. I don't know if I'm helping. All I know is that Marco does this to me whenever I'm upset, whenever I don't want to talk but I want to be comforted.

I glance over at Marco who's sitting with Bert. Neither of them are talking. The two sit against the wall of the barn away from Sasha's body. Bert has his head hung low as he fiddles with something in his hands. Marco stares aimlessly at his feet. He blinks slowly as he looks like he's about to pass out.

He's got to be in so much pain. Physical pain at the very least. I can tell you that everyone in this barn is far too emotionally broken at this point. But Marco nearly died not even an hour ago. He fell into a pit almost seven feet deep, busted his nose, and then was buried alive.

My stomach curls. God I'm gonna have to repress the shit out of that horrible memory. I almost thought I'd lost him.

A chill runs up my spine.

I look back at Reiner. "Things got kind of fucked up."

Reiner rubs his lips together. "Tell me about it," he mutters to himself. "What about the gunshot? Was that you guys?"

My stomach leaps again. Another thing I'm trying to forget. I thought Marco had accidentally shot himself. Thankfully only the ground had suffered a gunshot wound.

"Uh, yeah, we-"

"Did you see the killer?" Reiner asks.

I stare at him for a moment with a curl of my lip, I've lost my patience and I'm not about to get interrupted every five seconds by a depressed mountain.

"Marco fell into a trap," I say, "There was a, like, open grave in the woods. The gun went off when he fell."

"Oh," Reiner says, but then he squints, "But did you-"

"We didn't see the creep," I say before Reiner can ask again.

He nods. I see him glance at our significant others. "Is that how…" he trails off as he gestures towards his face.

I glare at him. I really don't want to fucking talk to him right now. "Yeah."

He nods again. His slow Frankenstein brain tries to process what I've told him and he finally asks a valid question. "Wait, why was there an open grave in the woods?"

"Fuck if I know, dipshit," I mutter as I give up on massaging Connie's back and rub my hands down my face. I stink of blood and dirt. "It was rigged with, like, collapsing sides. As I was trying to pull him out, the sides caved in like they were being held together by something. The grave filled up in a matter of seconds."

Reiner tries to focus on me but his eyes gravitate to Marco. He stares at Marco like he might transform into the undead at any moment.

"But, how?" he mumbles.

Exactly. Not only are the mechanics of a self filling grave questionable, but also why is it in the Jaeger woods to begin with? Not to mention the bloody bear traps near the barn.

I don't answer Reiner. I don't have an answer. If there was a plausible answer to anything that's been going on then we might have a chance at surviving tonight, but even that might be hard to come by.

"Is he okay?" Reiner asks in a hushed tone.

The image of Marco's face as I pulled him out of the ground flashes behind my eyes. I thought he was dead. Maybe brain dead. He wouldn't talk, he wouldn't make eye contact with me, he wouldn't move, he wouldn't do anything. I thought that his skull had taken too much damage to repair. But somehow the kid was able to stand and stumble to the barn with me. He didn't talk until we found Ymir. After only a few minutes of rest that he gave himself, did he get back to work. He made his way to Ymir to inspect the burns over her body, he assumed that she was electrocuted. And then adrenaline must have hit him again when Sasha and crew busted into the barn. I don't know how he's holding himself together.

No, Reiner. I don't think Marco's okay. But who is?

"He'll be fine," I lie.

He nods again, I don't know if there are actually any thoughts running through his head though.

"We need a plan," he says as he continues to talk in a quiet tone. I don't know who he's hiding from, we all need to figure something out. "Plan A is scrapped. So not only can we not use our phones, but we can't drive anywhere, and," he pauses to make a concerned look at Connie, "we're falling apart quickly."

My brain moves like week old snow melting over an empty parking lot, dirty with horrifying images and decaying with insanity. I'm not sure if I can come up with something that's going to save us. The smartest brain in the room is now busted with a concussion and frozen with shock. I'm constantly relying on Marco to help me pick up pieces to solve the puzzle, but this time I'm left with panicking Berthold, reckless Reiner, and mortally damaged Connie. I don't know if I can do this.

Connie slowly raises from his fetal crouch on shaking arms. "The longer we stay here the sooner the killer will find us," he says with a torn and broken voice. His throat must be ripped to shreds from all the screaming and crying.

"Exactly," Reiner says, "We're going to have to come up with something quick or we're dead meat."

I shoot a burning glare at Reiner. I know I'm not the most tactful person on the planet but Reiner could be a little more sympathetic.

I roll the events of the night through my head. First, Historia and whatever happened that killed her. Next, Eren was stabbed. Next, Marco almost died in a trap. Next, Ymir who was probably electrocuted. Next, Sasha who was possibly poisoned.

Cabin in the middle of the woods. No cell phone service. Power in the cabin is out. Car tires are slashed. No escape.

No one besides Eren has seen the killer.

I chew on my bottom lip and my eyes gravitate to Sasha. Connie has draped his coat over her. Her legs lay across the dirty barn floor covered in hay. This wasn't an accident. Food poisoning is not deadly. Something happened to Sasha, something intentional and malevolent.

The grave trap isn't something someone can just whip up in a matter of hours. That takes time, a shit ton of manual labor, and a fucked up mind.

The bear traps could possibly be chalked up to a coincidence. We are in the middle of the woods. I'm sure Eren's not too concerned keeping up with chores around here.

Even the shit wires in the barn could be a terrible accident too. But something in my gut is telling me that shit's not right.

I look at Marco.

"I don't think there's a killer out there," I say. Marco's eyes open. He looked like an old, over-loved teddy bear resting limply against the wall. He watches me and waits, waits for everyone else to start asking questions.

Reiner's first to the catch. "What do you mean there's not a killer? You think everyone's getting killed on their own vices?"

I look at Reiner. "I didn't say there wasn't a killer, I said that I don't think there's a killer out there," I say with a point at the barn door. "I think the killer is back at the cabin."

"You don't think he followed us?" Reiner asks.

I sigh. "I don't think there's a random psycho killer at all." I pause feeling my heart pick up at the possible sign of a fight. "I think the killer is one of us."

Reiner's face twists into confined rage. "The fuck you hinting at, Kirstein?"

"Don't get your g-string in a knot fuckface, I'm not saying it's any of us," I say thinking about the other people stuck in the cabin at this moment. Armin looked sick. I mean he did get sick when Historia's body was brought into the cabin, but he already looked like he was going to pass out the moment he walked into the house. Annie clung to his side and was ready to throw fists with anyone who even looked at her man.

"You think one of our friends is trying to murder everyone?" Reiner asks with a continued fury like it's going to intimidate me into changing my mind.

I raise my eyebrows and say plainly, "Yeah."

Reiner shakes his head and stands walking to the end of the barn and back to me on the floor. "Are you out of your fucking mind? Did you run into a fucking tree?" Reiner takes another step towards me and reaches down to grab at me.

"Reiner-" Bert calls from where he's sitting. Right as Reiner stops, a hand comes to lock around his wrist. Connie glares up at the mountain of a man with his hold on him, protecting me. Moments ago, Connie was ready to shoot me.

Reiner glares down at me like he's about to throw me out of the barn and leave me to fend for myself. Maybe he should and I can prove that I'm right.

"We're all messed up," Bert says standing from his spot and shuffling slowly towards the three of us. I notice that Marco continues to sit in his place. I don't expect him to run over and get involved, I'm just concerned that maybe he doesn't have enough energy to do anything. "Be a little considerate," Berthold adds as he takes Reiners arm from Connie's hold and pulls his boyfriend away from us.

"Yeah, we're all messed up, but that gives him no right to start blaming murderous acts on his friends," Reiner says with spit flinging from his snarl.

I look up at him plainly. I don't care if he gets worked up about this. It's not like it's going to help anything. I'm only thinking of the most probable explanation to all of this. And once we can do that, maybe we have a chance of surviving.

"Think Reiner," I say standing. My knees wobble a bit from the awkward position I've been curled up in. "Although I know it might be hard, but give it your best shot."

Reiner pulls on Bert's restraint but his boyfriend holds steady. "You little-"

"Think," I say ignoring him. "Why do you think there was a rigged open grave in the middle of the woods?" I stare at him making sure he knows that I'm not toying with him. "How do you think Sasha got so sick so fast? How was a live ground wire wound carefully to a light's pull string?"

I watch Reiner's raging demeanor simmer into confused anger. His thick skull doesn't process information too quickly.

I glance at Ymir's body coated in shadows on the barn floor. "Why do you think Eren lied to Ymir and Historia about the state of the Love Barn?"

Berthold's face falls. His wide eyes drop to the ground and over to his friend's body. Reiner blinks.

I add to my accusations of our friend. "How do you think Eren found Historia's body, carried it back to the cabin, and outrun a savage murderer in such a short amount of time?"

"You don't know anything, Kirstein," Reiner curses.

I shrug, "Maybe not, but you know Annie, right?" Reiner makes a look at Bert and then back at me. "Why would she refuse to leave the cabin if she knew her friends were in danger?"

Reiner continues to blink at me, his expression faded to an almost desperate hardness. As if he wants me to be wrong but he doesn't know how to combat me.

He knows I'm right.

"Wouldn't Annie go wherever she thinks she's needed most? Like, wherever the most danger is?" I tilt my head at him. Stupid fuck. "Why would she deem that it was more dangerous inside the cabin, than outside?"

"She's probably just wants to protect Armin-"

"She would be protecting Armin if she could take care of things outside. But she knows she can't because she needs to be inside the cabin, with Eren."

"Don't be ridiculous-"

"Is it so ridiculous?" I ask as my voice raises. "Please, I would love to be wrong but it's hard to think around it, isn't it?"

"You think Eren slashed the car tires and stabbed himself?" Reiner asks like it's absurd.

"Yeah, I would say it sounds like him."

"You're actually insane," Reiner laughs. "Your hate for Eren has gotten so out of control that you honestly think he's a psychopath? You're serious?"

"It's a little too great of a coincidence that all this crazy shit just so happens to come along when all fucking tweleve of us are here."

"You can't just call someone a murderer based on fucking supersition, Jean!" Reiner yells like I can't understand English.

"It's not just superstition!"

"You have no fucking proof-!"

"Alright." A shout from the wall echoes over Reiner. We look over at Marco who's rubbing his eyes carefully over his swelling nose. "I already have a massive headache and neither of you are helping," he grumbles as he stands shakily using the wall to help prop him up.

I go to help him but he raises his hand to stop me.

Eventually he stands, mind the slight sway he tries to stop. He rubs the back of his neck and sighs. "Whether Jean is right or not we still need a plan, arguing about this isn't going to fix anything."

Reiner crosses his arms over his chest. "Then what do you suggest we do 'O Wise One?"

Marco makes an ungrateful look at Reiner. I outright glare at him.

"I don't know, Reiner," he sighs, "I'm just saying - fighting is a waste of time."

Marco wobbles over and I watch him as an ache echoes in my chest at his condition. He's not going to be able to run if it comes to it.

I'll kill a son of a bitch that even comes near him.

Marco stands next to me and rests a hand on my shoulder to hide the fact that he needs something to help him stand. Everyone knows Marco's not in a good condition as much as he tries to pretend he's not. Connie stands on the other side of Marco, just in case.

"If Eren is behind this, then he knows everything. He's probably watching us now. There's no winning. If Eren is not behind this, then we're still not safe no matter what we do, and we only get closer to being found every moment we waste," Marco says. His words slur and saunter together like he can't articulate correctly. I make a nervous glance at him.

"So? What do we do?" Reiner asks.

"Use your fuckin' brain ya dumb Big Bird," I say. Marco squeezes my shoulder.

Reiner doesn't even seem phased at this point.

"The highway seems like the best route still, even if we don't have a car," Berthold says popping his knuckles.

"The main road is only about three quarters of a mile away, it's not too far," Connie says, "That parts still seems like a solid plan, we just have to be careful in case of more traps or anything."

"You guys are right," I say scratching my jaw. "Getting help is still the best thing to do right now. You three take the gun and Marco and I will head back to the cabin."

"Why would you go back to the cabin if you think Eren is the killer?" Berthold asks.

"He'd be stupid to start killing us when we're all there," I say.

"What if he's already killed them?" Connie asks. I look at him and the genuine darkness in his eyes takes the breath from my lungs.

I take a breath. "Then we'll give you guys more time to get help."

Silence settles over the five of us.

"You sure about this?" Reiner asks oddly concerned. He looks at me, then to Marco, and back at me. "If you're fucked up thinking is right, then you aren't going to have the upperhand."

"I'm not letting you and Bert split up, and I want Connie to be on the safe route, and there's no way I'm going anywhere without this bag of bones," I say lightly elbowing Marco's ribs.

Marco huffs with a smile, "Thanks."

Another awkward silence filled with terrible fear and crippling dread.

"Alright well lets just fuckin' do it and try not to fuck it up this time," Reiner says.

We get situated. Reiner makes sure both of the guns are loaded properly. Bert is crouched next to Ymir with his hand over her head that's covered with someone's flannel. Connie kneels next to Sasha sliding a bracelet off her wrist. I decide to let him have a moment.

Marco and I linger next to the front door while the other three are to use the side door. Marco leans against the prickly wood with his eyes closed. I stare at him shamelessly, trying to remember what his face looked like earlier tonight, before we went into that stupid cabin. The smirk as he waves a fake bone in my face. His concentrated face as he looked for his dumb face wash. The moonlight that contoured his face in glowing highlights.

Now he's broken, busted, beaten. His eyes are sunken with exhaustion. His nose swollen with red bruising, dirt and dried blood. His body is worn and limp hanging on the end of a thread with the last remnants of adrenaline running through his body.

Connie jogs up to us wiping the back of his hand over his eyes. "Uh, don't-don't get hurt, got it?" he says as strong as he can manage.

I smile at him. "You too, dude, I'll be seeing you tomorrow, okay?"

He nods as his breath hiccups in his throat. He presses his lips together gesturing at Marco and gives me a pointed look.

"Don't worry," I say, "I'll kill them."