Damn, this was such a weird chapter for me. It's kind of a turning point in the story right now- bodies discovered left and right, and, believe it or not, in only the 6th of 13 chapters, I will reveal one of the three killers already.

My grammar had kinda sucked in the past few chapters- I tried my best, but it was late when I wrote it, so no promises :). Anyways, next chapter will be the massacre I've been waiting for. I hate having so many characters, so by next chapter the number of characters will go from 29 to 19. Yes, you saw right. Read it again if you want :D. Ten deaths in chapter 7. I need a more manageable cast so the story can be better and the characters can be more developed.

PLEASE REVIEW! I LIVE FOR THEM!

So, here it is, 6 of 13- Heating Up.

Still Alive:

Adam

Andrea

Becca

Carmen

Campbell

Carrie

Claire

Corinne

Daniel

David

Devin

Diane

Drew

Graham

Greg

Jeff

Kaden

Katrina

Keith

Kenn

Kylie

Luke

Madison

Mason

Noelle

Rachal

Raymond

Roy

Shea

Wilson

Chapter 6 – Heating Up

There was a rapping on the door of Claire's hotel room. "Claire? Are you in there?" Corinne asked from outside, still tapping on the door. Corinne heard the sound of labored breathing from inside, so decided to go in anyway. Corinne grinned at the sight of Claire lying on the bed; sound asleep, with a bit of drool coming from the corner of her mouth.

Corinne shook her awake. Claire looked up, half asleep, dazed. "What is it? Did they find another body?" Claire asked, confused. Corinne shook her head.

"No… Jeff and Carmen got back here- alive!" Corinne exclaimed, nodding viciously. A small twinkle came into Claire's eye, she smiled, and fell back on to the bed, sound asleep as if nothing have happened.

Corinne shrugged and walked down the hall to her room.

"Trent?" Noelle asked the wind, strolling through the snow. "Trent? Bro, are you alive out here?" Noelle questioned jokingly.

She heard some leaves crackle from behind her. "Hello? Is anyone there? Is that you Trent?" Noelle asked, giggling. She removed some branches from in front of the tree and shrieked. "TRENT! NO! NOT YOU! ANYONE BUT YOU! PLEASE NO! PLEASE!" Noelle cried in desperation, collapsing to the ground, in a fit. "SOMEBODY! HELP ME!" Noelle screeched through the forest, as she stared into the empty eyes of her brother's severed head.

"Oh, Trent… Why… Why!" Noelle screamed, rolling on the snow, crying. "SOMEONE! HELP! I FOUND HIM! MY BROTHER IS DEAD!"

But no one came. The severed head of Trent lye in the stone cold snow pack.

(LUKE'S POV)

As soon as we heard the noise, I brought Becca into a swift, tight embrace. She put her hands on her head in the panic, while Drew screamed for about 10 seconds.

I dove into a small trench on my left, still grasping Becca, while Drew leaped in landing 6 inches from my face.

"WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING!" Drew shouted over the sound of… Gunfire?

"I DON'T KNOW!" I yelled back to him, answering truthfully. "JUST STAY DOWN IN HERE UNTIL THE NOISE IS OVER!"

"I think I'm going to be sick," Becca whispered in my ear, responding to so much gunfire. "I can't imagine what's happening to someone! What if there IS a murderer?"

I brushed off the suggestion and ignored Becca, not wanting to admit the obvious. Gunfire? Missing people at a remote, inaccessible place? It all seemed suspicious. Or just like the perfect plan to pick us all off, one by one.

All of a sudden the gunshots stopped, and I nervously stuck my head out of the trench. "Well, it's clear," I said, and Drew and Becca nervously climbed from the bunker.

"I think we need weapons," Drew suggested, making motions suggesting he was shooting something in a heroically dorky way.

"I'm with Drew, babe, I really think someone's trying to kill people," Becca said, pulling from my arms in a dramatic manor.

"Fine… Why don't we head to the police station to get some weapons then?" I suggested, while the other two nodded. And that's when we set off to find some guns.

(Devin's POV)

"SHIT! KYLIE! GET DOWN!" I screeched, as I automatically threw her and myself to the ground over the sound of what I thought was gunfire. She screamed as we hit the snow with a thud, and I looked around to see if it was us being fired at.

"You know, they aren't firing at us. But let's stay down here anyway," Kylie suggested pulling me into her and attaching her lips to my own. She moaned as in my eyes I looked completely horrified.

I immediately pulled away as Kylie looked hurt and confused. I stared daggers. "Kylie, I don't love you," I admitted, as Kylie looked about ready to explode.

"What… But, why?" She asked, trying to keep it together, bottom lip trembling. I thought, what the hell, why not, she's pretty, and then pulled into a magnificent kiss, as the gunfire still went on.

Then suddenly it stopped, and the kiss was over, as we stood up, and walked away as if we had never had a hot make out session in the snow.

(Rachal's POV)

Not good, I thought as I dove behind a tree, snapping my wrist like a twig in the process. At least I wasn't being pumped full of lead at the moment. I heard the gunfire and flew behind the oak, and desperately I looked around for Madison and Shea as my wrist quickly blew up like a balloon.

"Shea?" I whispered, wriggling, as the pain in my wrist was infuriating. I saw Shea and Madison pressed against a tree diagonally from me. SHIT! Was that blood on Madison? I then sighed with relief when I remembered that she was just wearing a red sweater.

I crawled over to their tree and leaned against it. "This is pretty loud!" Madison exclaimed, while Shea & I nodded.

"It has to be close. Last time I heard gunfire this loud was when… The massacre…" Shea replied, kind of zoning out. I nodded to Madison when the gunfire ended, and we stepped out in front of the tree and looked to the clearing to see only one bullet.

"One?" I asked, confused. Shea and Madison looked equally puzzled.

"Maybe they were close- that gunfire was pretty loud- and they were aiming for someone else," Shea suggested. Madison and I nodded, but still looked puzzled.

"Well… Then maybe there's a body?" I suggested, while Madison still looked utterly confused, my confusion was exchanged with panic that another person could be dead. Shea nodded and we headed towards where the gunfire had happened.

We looked to see hundreds of bullets on the ground.

But no sign of a human being.

(Greg's POV)

It was hard not to scream when I saw bullets pour into the hole I was currently stuck in. I ran around in circles as I heard someone laugh viciously from outside the hole- when I looked up, I could see just the toe of a large black boot. Great. Half the wedding party had those!

I dodged, dipped and dived. But the person kept cackling and firing non-stop with what appeared to be what? A Tommy gun? I don't know. But you know how it ends.

A hero can only survive that much longer.

"STOP!" I yell, only for the person to laugh more as they spray the pit with bullets for a good 5-10 minutes. I wonder where Rachal is, then realize that she's probably safer than I am here.

Then, I can't feel a thing. And I see some blood on the ground beneath me as I keel over and the gunfire finally ceases. The attacker swiftly covers up the trench with dirt and leaves so no one can find me- but at the moment, it doesn't matter. I am too weak to call out for help anyway.

And now I'm lying here, pressed against the wall of my dirt pit, and slowly bleeding out. The bastard left me here.

There is no doubt that I will die.

(Andrea's POV)

I knew this ordeal would get on the news. If I was involved, it had to be on there. Hell, if one day I didn't straighten my hair THAT would be in the news.

Damn rich man bribed me to come. So much dough… It's not even funny. Even freaking Bill Gates couldn't have passed this opportunity up.

The murders seemed well planned. I was suspicious in the first place- small town, 40 people or so, and no contact with the outside world? Remote Alaska? It felt like I was set up to be murdered.

I was pretty sure it was murders. Adam & I had only seen one corpse thus far- the corpse of that wedding planner chic. But I was pretty sure snotty heiress and hotel cook with freak ass wife were dead already, too.

"Hun, how far do you think we are from the hotel?" I asked Adam after the blue, as we had been trekking for hours.

He looked worried. "I seriously have no idea," Adam replied, cringing as I gave him my death stare (patent pending).

Adam slipped off a few feet ahead of me so I wouldn't bug him. I didn't blame him at all.

Because I could be a real bitch sometimes.

(Kaden's POV)

Mommy was under her blankets asleep while I was on the floor playing with my toy cars I brought along. I made them go zoom all along the walls!

But that's when I brought out my stuffed dinosaur, Godzilla, and he punched the cars off the wall and they went FLYING everywhere. Oh no! And then one hit mommy and she woke up…

"Kaden!" She said. Mommy usually didn't yell. "What did I tell you about throwing your cars?" She asked me, and I looked down at the ground. She really told me not to do that. That makes me very angry with her but I move on.

"Sorry mommy," I tell her, and my mouth is shaking and I am about to cry. She can see that and gives me a hug.

"Sorry baby," She whispers to me and I start to smile and play again like everything's normal.

(Diane's POV)

My husband could be a wimp sometimes. And right now was one of those times.

I sat next to him while he cried into my shoulder. My beautiful, model shoulder. Oh well, it was worth it to be married to a rich guy and get everything in the world, even though I don't love him.

How long could I stay in this damn marriage? It was horrible – no sex, and it's not like we were going to have kids, like I wanted. He already had that little whiny whore of a daughter, who was my age.

But how HOT that accountant is. What's his name again? Oh, yeah, Raymond.

I needed attention. I needed it more than anything else.

Being a supermodel, what can you say?

(Raymond's POV)

That sickening crunch that James' neck had made. It was priceless. Nothing in the world was better then murder itself.

It had been so easy with the murders I had committed so far- whiny little heiress Blaire, that annoying photographer Frank, and now that moron James, a groomsmen. Only three? Oh, how much better I could do. It was almost like a contest between and my two helpers and I.

Who can commit the most murders? I giggled, hopefully I could get away with enough that I could bathe myself and the scarlet blood and their own stupidity. I mean some still had to figure out that there was a murderer roaming around! Retards.

I had quite the experience- years, almost a decade, of having a part time job as… An assassin? Lame, huh? I think not. It's amazing how much pleasure one gets from watching a victim writhe in pain at your feet, begging for your life.

That's what you do, offer them escape, and when they begin to finally trust you, they die. That's the kind of mental torture I engage my victims in.

I am a sick, sick man. I take pleasure, and pride in my work.

It all started as a chance of fate, a telephone call, and an arranged meeting, followed by an admittance of anger, and a plan.

This plan couldn't fail. No, it couldn't. It was perfect, flawless, and just plain out psycho.

What can I say? Being a psychopath, who had a part time job as a contract killer, was pretty awesome.

The glee I felt, while watching Blaire fall to her knees, unwillingly, in pain, before me, was one of the most amazing feelings I may have ever felt. Some may call it love, even.

Then Frank. He was too easy, almost too easy that it wasn't fun. All I had to do was catch the old man by surprise.

Finally, there was James. I watched him try to get free, until I crushed his windpipe.

The disposal of my next planned victim would be easy.

(Jeff's POV)

I slowly laid Carmen's unconscious body on her bed, and put a warm cloth on her forehead, waiting for her to come around. It would be a while. I sighed, than plopped down on the bed next to her.

Hell, what was that lumpy trash bag I saw on the way in here? Where were half the people at the wedding at this very moment? Ugh, sometimes life confused me. Of course, curious as I was, I forced myself to do the right thing and investigate.

I played the theme from Indiana Jones in my head, as I walked outside into the cold. I looked near the window from earlier, and sure enough, the lumpy bag was still there. Cautiously, I crept towards the bag, and jumped 3 feet high when some snow slid off the roof.

As I neared the black bag, I found a hideous smelling stench surrounding it. Ah hell, it was probably a corpse…

I finally got up the courage to see what was inside, and lifted the horribly heavy bag. I clawed open the top and shrieked at the top of my lungs.

Another corpse! If that photographer guy, Frank! "HOLY SHIT! SOMEONE GET OUT HERE!" I yelled, and soon the paled wedding guests surrounded me.
"It's Frank…" Carrie murmured under her breath, and after several sighs, the guests and I, who hadn't really known Frank, trailed back inside.

But I stayed out there. I just stared at the battered, bloody corpse.

Who could have done this?

(No ones POV)

Keith was running, running, running away from the corpse of poor Blaire.

How could he have known? How could have anyone known that this wedding would turn into a blood fest?

Truthfully, no one but the perpetrators themselves could have known what was coming.

Keith wasn't going to stop. He heard the snow under his feet crunch, and the leaves crackle as he continued sprinting through the woods, too nervous to become winded.

The crackles and the crunches were nothing compared the thud as Keith hit the ground, and his scream when he was falling. And the pain when he stood back up.

Ah, the pain. Where was it? The pain was in his ankle- Keith looked down at his ankle to see it swell right before his very eyes. "Crap," he murmured. Keith struggled to stand up, but eventually, he managed. Pain was nothing compared to panic. Keith kept moving at a pace that said that nothing was out of place.

(Kenn's POV)

Must find him. Must find my twin brother. I couldn't go on if he died- he could be dead, after all. Poor Carol was obviously brutally murdered.

I ran, David hot on my heels, crunching the snow. I looked down for only a second, to tie my shoe. David stopped with me. I regret it, and I always will.

I had stumbled across the corpse of James. "J-James…" I whispered thinly, holding back tears for my childhood friend. David looked equally upset.

Now the person was a serial killer, and David and I shared a thought.

It was better to keep running then to grieve.

(Katrina's POV)

I walked next to my fiancé, Campbell, as we walked Wilson through the forest. After nearly an hour of stumbling through bushes and trees and shrubs we had passed numerous times, Wilson spoke up.

"You're lost, aren't you," Wilson suggested. Campbell shook his head.

"No, not lost. Even if we were, I wouldn't admit we were lost to you," Campbell admitted, wiping the sweat off of his forehead. If we were to tell Wilson we were lost, he would probably take advantage of us.

I gripped Campbell's hand, and we continued to walk through the woods, endlessly searching for the damn hotel.

(Roy's POV)

It was bad enough that my beautiful, eligible daughter, Becca, was marrying some hillbilly. Worse, now people were being killed.

I sat alone, in the lobby of the cold, musty hotel, by the fireplace, smoking a pipe, wearing the clothing of the rich. I looked as if I belonged in a movie from the 1950's.

Smoke billowed from the crusty pipe in small clouds, and the smoke quickly clouded the room, as I heard the door creak open.

A voice.

"Mr. Lewis?" The man questioned; I turned to the door to see Raymond, the accountant of the Buckinghams.

"Raymond! We have been worried about you!" I gushed, standing up now. Raymond frowned a little bit, but I smiled. Someone else was still alive.

"Mr. Lewis, you shouldn't have been. I can take care of myself," Raymond admitted, snickering. I peered suspiciously into his eyes, cocked my head, than I shrugged it off.

That's when I saw the sun glitter on a bloodied machete. "R-Raymond… You've been doing these murders!" I blurted, panicking. No, don't scream. Don't let them see me get killed.

"Yes, Mr. Lewis, I have. With two other… Special friends," Raymond admitted, snickering, looming towards me, and holding the machete menacingly.

I blew into my pipe, and I knew it would be the last time I ever did so. Raymond approached closer, and in a slashing motion put a gash into my stomach. Blood poured out onto the floor of the lobby, as I gagged at the salty stench.

Raymond? He stared at me and laughed. I looked into his eyes unforgiving, and he stared into my cold empty eyes. I gasped for the air that wasn't coming, and a feeling of sleep came over me, then a burning sensation as Raymond threw what was left of me into the fireplace.

I felt the life drain from me, and all feeling go out.

DEATHS:

Roy Lewis - "The Snob"

KILLER REVEALED:

Raymond Spalden - "The Accountant"

REMAINING KILLERS:

? & ?

Roy was absolutely necessary to kill off, for dramatic effect. Plus, I liked having the point of view from the victims stand point. That was fun to write.

MAJOR writers block this chapter. SOOOO FEW IDEAS! Please, in your reviews tell me what I should do next. It took so long to write, and it's also so short, because I'm running short on ideas.

Again, I LOVE REVIEWS, they motivate me to write faster. This chapter kinda sucked, so really, just rip it apart so I know what to do better in the future.

And, a lot of you are probably thinking "what the hell is wrong with him" when I revealed Raymond as a killer already. This is because I needed a killer to use to kill most of the TEN victims next chapter. MUWAHAHA I feel so evil :).

Please review.

Preview of Next Chapter: "Raymond continues his rampage, and while many characters think the mystery is solved, there are still two more killers roaming around murdering. Another ten victims are claimed in the gore of this chapter."

Oh, and to be even more ominous, Chapter 7 is titled: "Boom Crunch Snap Death" XD

READ AND REVIEW

Later peepz.