That was rather…Abrupt. Only seven left…watch your backs. Next is Untimely. I'm getting bored again. But don't worry, I'll continue this game. And if I were you, I'd kill for the chance to live.
The club stared with shock at their phones. The killer mimed sadness as he fingered the gun again.
"KURT!" Rachel finally screeched.
Blaine fell to the ground beside his dead boyfriend and wept. The killer almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
Puck looked around. "Okay, who is it?"
The club stared at each other.
"Well, I think we should try to figure out who's gonna die next."
The killer winked at his temporary minion again, giving the starting signal.
"I agree."
"Disagree."
"Skip town."
Choruses of agreement and disagreement came from the club's scared lips.
"Okay, well, let's figure out who's gonna die and then the killer from out list." Rachel reasoned.
They drew a chart on the ground.
Finn
Puck
Sugar
Artie
Santana
Rachel
Blaine
Brittany
Under that they wrote a list of the remaining deaths.
Untimely.
Depressing.
Homocide.
Simple.
Russian.
Never.
Me.
"Okay, so what we can assume from this is that one person will not die. But two people will have to die at once, otherwise two people would never die." Rachel reasoned. The club nodded.
After much debating the club came up with this:
Untimely.-Finn
Depressing.-Rachel & Sugar
Homocide.-Santana
Simple.-Blaine
Russian.-Brittany
Never.-Artie
Me.-Puck
"Look you guys, you can search me, but I don't have a friggin sniper, any postcards, all I have is a gun that I keep so I won't die."
The club looked at him and then a brilliant thought struck the victim.
"Whoever this is," the club looked pointedly at Puck, "They must have an alterior motive."
"Yeah, someone would have to have a vendetta or something." someone agreed.
The victim nodded. "Yeah, and-" they were cut off by the sound of a bullet, and the club watched as they fell to the ground.
That was untimely. She almost figured out my game. Seven deaths to go.