Disclaimer: I don't own Harper's Island. I also don't own Abby Mills, Jimmy Mance, Madison Allen or Shea Allen.
Rating: T for death and language.
HARPERSDALE
Episode Two: Splosh
"It's been two hours since Ricky left," Jemima fretted. "I hope he's okay..." Just then, she heard the squeal of a car braking outside, and she rushed outside. She caught sight of Ricky's pale face, and instantly blanched as she saw the terrible expression on his face.
"Ohmygod, Ricky..." she rushedf over to the car and wrenched open the door. His body fell out, and she instinctively grabbed him.
"What happened?" She directed the question at the man who had been driving the car.
"His sister... she was caught in a rockfall..." he replied.
"Oh my God..." she whimpered. "Not Vicky. She was so sweet, so innocent..."
"I'm sorry... did you know her well?"
"We used to be best friends, back when she lived in Kelsington... and we had begun reconnecting while she was staying here..." she sniffled, and began to sob again.
"Wilfred, have you seen Pierre? He's been missing all afternoon, and I had to make lunch," she said in a 'what-do-they-think-I-pay-them-for' tone of voice.
"No," Wilfred croaked. "Lazy bugger."
Grr... if he's drunk on the job again, I'll wring his neck! Agnes thought as she moved towards the door.
Jimmy and Will carried Ricky to his villa, with Jemima trailing behind carrying the spare key to his room. Matthew looked at the name tags on the pieces of luggage, and began to take them to the guests' villas, carrying the remaining spare keys.
As Jimmy and Will opened the door of Ricky's villa, neither of them noticed a kitten slip out of the room...
As the small group of people trudged towards the resort, Madison rubbed her eyes. She could have sworn she had seen her mom's cousin Ben Wellington...
"Mom, did you see that?"
"See what, honey?"
Madison blinked. Ben was standing directly in front of her, mouth open in a silent scream. Others soon appeared too - Trish, Thomas, Katherine, Henry, heck, even John Wakefield was there. Soon, everyone who had died in the Harper's Island massacre surrounded her.
"Turn back, Madison," they warned as one. "Don't go to Harpersdale." The circle of ghosts drew towards her, until they were within touching distance. "Don't go."
"Leave me alone! Please!" Madison begged.
"Madison?" her mother's voice cut through the spectres, making them disappear. She shook her head. I must have been imagining things. "Are you okay?" Shea continued.
"Yes," Madison said. She looked up as she felt a raindrop fall onto her hair. Soon, the deluge began in earnest, and the small group hurried towards the now-visible resort.
Rain crashed onto the rooftops of Harpersdale, causing everyone to retreat inside and trapping Ricky and Jemima in Ricky's villa. Jimmy and Will had returned to the main building before the rain began. Slowly, Ricky began to stir.
"Where am I? What happened?" Ricky asked.
"Ricky..." Jemima began.
"My name isn't Ricky." Ricky replied. "It's Richard. Richard Spark."
"You remember who I am, right?" Jemima asked with bated breath.
"Of course I do, Jemima."
"I'm sorry about your sister..."
"I don't have a sister."
Jemima became frantic. It appeared that Ricky - Richard - was experiencing partial amnesia.
"Yes, you do," she insisted. "You used to sing with her, remember? Before she... passed away?" she said carefully.
"I can't sing, I have a horrible voice," Richard replied. "Oh God, my head!" He collapsed backwards, falling into unconsciousness. Jemima entered the bathroom of the villa and began to cry.
"Abby?" Jimmy asked, smiling slightly as she awoke. The two of them lay on a double bed. She nestled closer to him, and embraced him in her arms.
"Hmm? What did you want?" she asked drowsily.
"Just wanted to check that you were okay," he replied. He lightly kissed her on her forehead.
"Not really," she said. "I have a bad feeling about this place. It feels evil... just like the island..." And with that, she drifted off to sleep again. The conversation had been so brief he wondered if it had been a figment of his imagination. He eventually decided that Abby had been sleeptalking.
"You don't need to worry, Abby," he whispered, more to himself than to her. "I'll protect you, whatever it takes."
Matthew and Catherine sat in the resort lounge conversing quietly, as did Louise and David. Alicia was asking Wilfred several questions about the history of the resort. Jemima perched on a desk chair behind the reception desk. Other than that, the entire main building of the resort was empty...
Pierre stumbled as he wandered through the resort. He had passed out in the toolshed near the swimming pool. Hearing a clatter inside the pool room, he turned towards it.
"No one in the pool after 9:30," he called, despite the fact that it was barely five. His voice was thick with accent and alcohol. Another clatter, and Pierre decided to shoo the guest out. Arriving in the pool room, he saw an innocuous kitten clattering among deck chairs.
"Ah, le petit chat. Where did you come from?" Pierre murmured, drunkenly alternating between French and English. He stepped carefully towards the kitten, mesmerised by its cuteness. Suddenly, he felt hands on his back, and they pushed him forcefully as he was practically thrown into the pool. He splashed around angrily, wondering who had pushed him.
The surface of the water broke next to Pierre as a deckchair was knocked into the pool, and he felt hands on his head. "Mais non! Stop!" he commanded, but the assailant ignored him, pushing his face underwater. He kicked, trying to escape, but the hands remained like clamps on his head.
Pierre couldn't hold his breath any longer. It was surprising he'd managed to hold on to life for this long, considering his drunken state. He gasped, allowing water to rush into his lungs. And just like that, the killer had claimed their first victim.
Jemima heard a knock on the door of the villa, so she dried her tears and made her way towards the front door. Beatrice quietly opened the door, soaking wet.
"Is Ricky okay?" she inquired quietly.
"I'm really worried. He remembers some things, but not others..." Jemima said tearfully.
"I'm studying psychology at university. Perhaps I can help," Beatrice volunteered. "What sort of things can't he remember?"
"He doesn't remember his sister, his stage name, or his singing career. But he remembers his ordinary name and he remembers me..."
Beatrice thought for a moment. "He probably has post-traumatic stress disorder... manifesting as amnesia."
"What do we do?"
"There's nothing we can do without a professional psychiatrist. I'm only a student," said Beatrice, frustrated at her inability to do anything for Richard. "We'll have to wait until the rocks are cleared."
The rain gradually slowed to a sprinkle, eventually stopping.
"We should get back to the others," Beatrice suggested. "There's nothing we can do for him now."
It had grown dark outside. Beatrice and Jemima hurried to the main building, when suddenly someone grabbed Beatrice's arm. She screamed.
"Beatrice! It's okay, it's just me!" Vanessa's voice came through the darkness. Beatrice's heart rate slowly returned to a more normal level.
"You scared me!" she exclaimed. "When did you get back?"
"A while ago... just before five, I think...?" Vanessa answered evasively.
Robert headed towards the room he would be sharing with his son. Being stuck at the resort, he would have to set up the camp bed he had borrowed from Agnes and Wilfred.
He was nearing the resort when his son, Ben, appeared in the doorway.
"Dad! I'll set that up for you if you want," he offered, almost snatching the bed from Robert's grasp.
"You weren't usually this helpful when you lived at home..." Robert observed.
"It's just... you must have had an awful shock today. With the rockfall and all."
"Well, that's very nice of you. Thanks," Robert said. He turned and walked away.
"Has he gone?" a voice whispered from underneath Ben's bed.
"Yes," Ben replied. Will scrambled out.
"You should really clean out under there every once in a while," Will joked.
"There are more important matters to attend to..." Ben said quietly, almost to himself. He suddenly seemed to realise that Will was there. "I've got to go," he told him.
Robert smiled as he walked away from his son's room. Does he really think I don't know he's gay? he wondered. I just hope he don't find out that Will's banging Caitlyn too...
His thoughts were abruptly interrupted as a figure grabbed his neck, beginning to throttle him. The figure dragged him away as Robert's eyes began to bulge. He flailed around, managing to strike the figure in the stomach. They doubled over, and Robert struggled out of their grip.
The figure grinned as Robert ran. After all, the thrill was in the chase.
"Help me!" Robert cried, fleeing through the darkness. A flash of metal shot past him, and a shuriken struck a nearby tree. Robert ran towards it, figuring that if he had a weapon he stood a chance against this maniac.
That was his fatal mistake. The killer threw a second shuriken, striking Robert between the shoulder blades. He was dead before he knew what hit him.
About half an hour later, Alicia closed down a file on her laptop. Hmm... I better fix that, while I remember, she thought to herself. She opened up another file, entitled 'List of Victims'. She carefully highlighted two names, and then pressed 'Delete'...
The Main Twenty-Five
Abby ~ Agnes ~ Alicia ~ Beatrice ~ Ben ~ Caitlyn ~ Catherine ~ Charles
David ~ Jemima ~ Jimmy ~ Kristian ~ Louise ~ Madison ~ Matthew ~ Michael ~ Pierre
Richard ~ Robert ~ Samantha ~ Shea ~ Theresa ~ Vanessa ~ Wilfred ~ Will
Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait between updates, and thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think and where I could improve, but no flames please.