The Murder Game: Day 008 (Clue Floor)

[thelolanon]

Clue #4

[You all know that it's coming and you watch as the feed flips to that exact same living room. Alfred and Arthur are there and everything looks serene and peaceful. They seem tired but pleased with themselves, now back in normal attire, Alfred in his bomber jacket, resting against the side of the armchair while Arthur is snuggled into a sweater, cup of tea in hand. You frown a little, thinking the lights seem dimmer, not just in your room, but in theirs as well. Must be a trick of the light.

Arthur shifts in his seat, looking up at Alfred, who nods once before he looks back to the camera. And then you see it. The thing that's been in every single video with them. Despite the calm and smiling persona they've put on, you finally get a good look at them; really see their eyes as the two stare at the camera.

They are frightened. Possibly as frightened as you.

It clicks. They're playing. They've been playing along with you. Just as guilty, just as cold and tired. All those moments of intimacy are ones you yourself have shared with your partner. A closeness that you thrive on. Skin touching skin and it is as simple as a held hand, a fixed tie or scarf or even the rarest of jokes when of you can manage. They are partners. They are rabbits. They are monsters.

And Arthur speaks in that same chilling voice he had in the first video but this time it's out of pure fear.

"They will devour you all."

And with that the lights dim on the two men. Pitch black. You think this is the end of the film but you hear talking, the shifting of feet and the clatter of a teacup as it's knocked off the sidetable.

"Do you honestly think this will work!? We don't even know what we're up against!"

"Shut up Arthur! We don't have time to argue about this!" The camera blinks into life and you see the night-vision capture Alfred's face. His eyes glow and he looks even more pale and scared than before. Arthur soon joins him, though only some of his face is visible. "This is our last chance, fuck... We don't even know if it's live anymore but we have to try!"

"For them or us?"

Alfred hesitates. Licks his lips and looks at the Brit. "For them."

A snort and you watch Arthur's head shake in scorn. "They're the ones who haven't figured it out! They've wasted so many chances with petty arguing and idiotic conclusions!"

Eyes flicker off camera and both go silent for a moment, even their breathing seems to pause. As the danger, or whatever it was, passes, Alfred resumes talking though his voice is hushed. "I don't care! Ivan's still alive and so is Rory! A-And Sindre and Feliks and Remy! We have to help them Arthur."

But Arthur's voice is loud and you hear the videocamera's microphone whine and crackle in protest. "WHY SHOULD I HELP THE ONES WHO KILLED 
MY YOUNGER BROTHER!?"

Alfred winces, his eyes closing as he speaks, voice hush against the wet and raging echo of the Brit's shout. "Your older sister is in there."

"She didn't protect him."

Opening his eyes, you see that flash of idiotic determination in Alfred's gaze. You know he's going to do something and he's set on seeing that idiotic and fruitless plan through. "So we have to. It's our turn; I'm done sitting around."

Arthur seems to shove Alfred slightly as the camera jerks and you see that the two are on some platform. Then the camera swings back up to Arthur face. "So you're going to sacrifice my life as well in this fucking moronic excuse to be a bloody hero!"

Alfred's free hand closes around Arthur's collar and he practically drags him onto the screen. The two glower at each other, Arthur's chest heaving from his shouting. "Yeah, I am. You gotta problem with that?"

"That you're signing my death warrant? Yes I fucking do!"

The American's fist tightens. "Well run away then Arthur. Like a coward."

Arthur rolls his eyes. "And throw your life away! Like a blind idiot with a messiah complex!"

A jerky view as the camera is dropped. You see Alfred's arm suddenly moves and you hear the slap of skin onto skin, the snapping of a jaw. Arthur's hiss of pain and Alfred's panting. "Yes! A blind idiot who wants to help his friends and family!"

Slowly, the camera is picked up at the same moment, Arthur straightens, fingers at his jaw. You watch in that strange green light as the tips of his fingers glisten slightly. Blood or spit? Maybe both. A laugh cuts through the silence. "Ha. Be honest! The only one you want to help is the bloke you're fucking!"

This makes Alfred recoil as if punched and his cheeks turn an ugly colour. "So!? You'd do the same if you had someone you loved!"

"Too bad they're dead."

Alfred appears to backpedal desperately, trying to do anything in get Arthur on his side. You pray he does. You know that it probably won't work but the idea of someone coming to get you; coming to save you is making you almost hopeful. "And the man who killed them is down there!"

Scoffing, Arthur grits his teeth and his jaw makes a disgusting clicking noise. "What if it's your fellow, hm? What happens then?"

If Arthur's voice had been loud, Alfred's seems to snap the microphone. "NO! It's not Ivan! I-It can't be!"

"We don't know that! We don't know who to save! It's too risky for them and for us!"

Alfred looks ready to punch Arthur again. "You're just scared. What do we have to lose, Arthur!?"

Arthur looks the same. "What do you mean 'what do we have to lose'!?" Their voices are far from soft and hushed anymore, a panicked edge to each of their raised and sharp voices. "Do you rate your own life so low?"

"Fine. You sit here. You watch the others die." Alfred suddenly stands, the camera coming with him, focusing down on the kneeling Brit, "I'm going to get out of here and find them and I'm going to save every single one of them."

He turns and the camera sweeps across rows and rows of seats, but stops, looking around to see Arthur also standing. "You don't even know where we are or if there are people just outside that door ready to put an end to our miserable lives!" the author folds his arms over his chest, "I mean... have you done any sort of reconnaissance?!"

"There's a door at the end of the aisle. You've seen the feeds. There's stairs, it's a large building. Maybe we're on top, they're working towards us. We know there's a crazy ass albino guy with a knife and gun who you apparently know." Alfred smirks.

Eyes roll and Arthur grits his teeth. "And if he really has gone mad, I know he wouldn't hesitate to slit our throats given the chance! He's a thorough sort of bloke, and extremely apt at this sort of thing!"

Alfred's hand reaches out, ghostly pale, and takes Arthur's shoulder. The Brit tries to flinch away but the American holds strong. "Then we fight instead of just sitting on our asses and waiting for him to come get us!"

Fixing the young blond with a hand stare, Arthur flicks the hand off of his shoulder. "If we fight we will lose." He holds up a hand, cutting off Alfred's noise of protest, "That bastard fights dirty and no doubt has an assortment of weapons on him!"

"You said you've fought him before!" Alfred complains the minute he can get a word in, "Can't you do it again!?"

"Does it look like I have anything to fend him off with?!"

Then there was the sound of the door opening and the camera flicks towards it. A white figure stands at the edge of the aisle, double doors closing behind him as he raises something. "Ladies, ladies. You'll make me blush with all this talk."

And then the camera is moving. "Shit! Arthur, run!"

The Brit stumbles as Alfred's arm shoves him. A gunshot fires. "Fuck it all! I told you this would happen!"

Gilbert's voice echoes behind them as the scramble towards a door. "You're breaking the rules," he called in a warm and friend tone, "I have to stop you, it's my job, your understand, ja?"

Alfred opens the door, shoving Arthur inside but not behind Arthur shouts back, "You smug, albino bastard--!"

The door slowly shuts but Gilbert's taunting voice, growing closer with each moment, still audible other the panting and straining breath of the two men, slinks in through the closing crack. "I know you miss me Rotkenlchen~ Why don't you come and play with me? I know you liked it before."

Click. The door is closed and Alfred puts a hand over Arthur's mouth to keep him from shouting back. "Just stay quiet Arthur. We have to find the clues. O-Or the stairs or something!"

Arthur pulls his mouth away from the hand, but keeps his voice quiet. "He's enjoying this! He'll chase us until we're cornered rats!"

"Then we just have to get out of the corner." Alfred looks around desperately at the ten doors lining the walls. "O-okay c'mon... You've still got the code on your arm?"

Fingers work desperately at Arthur's sleeves, pulling it back. He's got a barcode, just like you all do. It's been scratched and clawed at and looks half-healed. "It's a bit... scratched up, but yes."

The camera flicks around the doors, too fast for you to see anything, to register anything. Five? 6? Was that an eight? Alfred is just as confused as you in the darkness. "T-Try that one! E-Eight? Three? Maybe it's 2..."

Arthur moves around the room, shoving his arm under the scanners but none of the doors are opening for him. "N-None of them are working... They won't even open!"

And a voice from behind the door they had just closed. "There's nowhere to go~"

Alfred pulls back his own sleeve, the camera in his hand swinging widely, obviously not his main concern, just a tag-on. "Mine's still okay." The quiet beep of a machine and a door opens. 1? 10? Doesn't matter, the two men are inside in a moment and the door slams shut behind them. "I-I think we'll be safe in here..."

They both let out a shout of surprise as the lights overhead turn on. Alfred lets out a quiet breath, reaching down, turning off the night-vision and colour floods into the room and you can see both their pallid complexions. The room is completely white. You think you see something on the ground but you don't have time to watch as the camera is focusing on Arthur again.

He's shaking his head. "It's no use... I'm sorry, but... it's the end of the road."

"A-Artie, just shut up for two seconds! P-Please!"

Arthur looks at him desperately and shakes his head and Alfred's trembling and but still so stupidly determined voice. "How long do you think we can last in here? First of all, that twat out there probably has a barcode that opens all of the doors!"

"I-I don't know! I just don't know- A-Arthur, I'm sorry- I thought-"

He's interrupted by a banging of a fist on the door. "You've got until three to come out before I decide to kill you slowly~."

The Brit looks past the camera, to the shaking America (judging from the jittery camera). "...We go out fighting, yeah?"

A sniffling breath and the camera is placed on the ground. You can vaguely see Alfred throw himself at the Brit, the force of his hug pulling the smaller man off the ground for a moment. "Y-Yeah... Fighting." Arthur can be seen leaning into the embrace for a single moment before breaking away.

Alfred turns back to the camera, bending down to pick it up, his fingers hesitating on the photo you thought you saw before. He picks it up, frowning. "Hey Arthur-"

He's cut off again as the door's lock clicks. "Ein."

"A photo isn't going to help us, Alfred! A piece of one at that!"

Fingers taking the photo, folding it and placing it in a pocket, Alfred next picks up the camera, weighing it in his hand. "I can punch him with this... That should hurt and it's useless to us now-"

"Zwei."

Arthur and Alfred move to stand side-by-side and the camera watches the door. It opens on smooth hinges, completely silent. "Drei." As soon as Gilbert's face is visible, Alfred is moving, the camera with him. It doesn't take long for the gunshot to ring.

The American falls to the ground, the camera clattering away. You can see his stomach and shirt soaking with blood as Arthur falls next with him, unwounded but pulling Alfred close. "Arthur- I-I wish... Didn't end like this... I was just... startin' to like you..."

"D-Don't talk like that you idiot... You stupid, stupid idiot..." Arthur is shaking.

Alfred coughs and the blood leaks from his mouth and his body trembling, weak in the Brit's arms. "Blind idiot with a messiah complex?" a choked laugh, "Y-Y'all always knew best Artie..."

"H-Ha... Must be a miracle for you to admit that..." Arthur's hands are fruitlessly trying to stop the blood. He's covered, fingertips dripping with the crimson.

The American reaches up a hand, weakly pressing Arthur's away. "Gotta be..." a tired smile, "Y'all better take good care of yourself... M'just gonna sleep for a bit..."

Arthur shakes his head, laughing weakly. "I... Suppose there's no use in trying to stop you, is there?" He forces himself to keep his hand away from the wound, "You never listen to me anyway."

Closing his eyes, Alfred shook his head. "Nah... I'll see you on the other side."

Limp. Arthur exhales heavily through his nose, eyes suspiciously watery. "It's a promise."

You watch, stunned, as a foot appears off-screen, jabbing the Brit in the side. "This is cute and everything, but I kinda got a job to do. You understand, things to do, places to see, people to kill~"

Arthur's fists clench fiercely as he stares down at the soon to be cold body. "I'm afraid you'll have to cancel all of that. I will be damned if I don't take you along with me."

Gilbert's laugh is sharp. "Aw Artie, that's sweet that you think you can beat me~"

"I didn't say I'd beat you." Arthur's head tilts up. "But my last breath on this earth will be spent ripping out your shriveled, black heart."

The foot lowers to the ground. "...Are you challenging me Arthur? Really? You think you can do that? I could say no and just shot you and save us both a lotta time."

Arthur shakes his head. "I know you, Gilbert. As if you'll turn down a game. Especially with an old mate of yours."

Once again the laughter is completely misplaced, cackling and wild. Amused. He's amused by the dead American, by Arthur's acceptance of death. You shiver. The leather shoe kicks the corpse away from Arthur and you watch, barely able to see the luger holster back onto his hip. "You know I'm just going to shot you if things get bad, right? I don't play fair."

The knife is still in his hand, dangling as Arthur gets to his feet. You can see from their hips down, nothing more. "Then I'll just have to tear out your jugular with my teeth, won't I?"

"Sounds kinky."

"You always were into blood play."

The knife leaves it's position from Gilbert's side, and you know it's being wielded in front of his chest. "You were always willing."

"When I knew you weren't a completely heartless bastard. But things changed, haven't they?"

"Things always change; sometimes they don't. Like your stupid talking."

"And like your baseless boasting."

"Baseless? You seemed to like a good ride on the five meters."

"Your flawed depth perception also seems to have stayed the same."

A beat. "Let me show you how good it's gotten." And then a lunge forward.

The other man, expecting such a hasty move, dodged and received only a glancing blow at his side for his efforts. Though it was merely a superficial wound, you can see his knitted sweatervest was quick to be stained by blood. Recovering his wits and taking advantage of the opening, Arthur charged forward, slamming his left elbow into the other's throat and following it up with a straight punch to the gut.

For his efforts, the Brit quite literally received a stab in the back.

The pair sunk to the ground, Arthur wildly struggling to break himself free; swiftly headbutting Gilbert in his urgency to get away. The knife came up only to come back down again, deeper than before. Arthur hollers in pain, his senses over-saturated with agony and you feel the knife in your own back from the sheer pain in his shout.

And so, he could do the only thing he could do.

Keeping his earlier promise, Arthur viciously sunk his teeth into Gilbert's shoulder, biting down as hard as he possibly could, determined not to let go for anything.You watch as blood fills Arthur's mouth as he relentless holds on; even as the other man yowled with pain, stabbing his knife over and over again in Arthur's back so he would let go.

Even as his strength started to dwindle and his back was nothing more than a mess of blood and butchered muscle, he held on.

He would keep his promise, to both Alfred and Gilbert.

You watch the standstill- neither party willing to give in. Gilbert stabbed and Arthur tightened his jaw; yet surely, but slowly both started to weaken in their efforts. And for one glorious moment, the knife leaves his back, yet did not descend back down again. You all watch, thrilled because Arthur, one of your own, has won.

But he was foolish to relish in the hope even for a second.

Gilbert plunges the knife into Arthur's stomach. This moves stuns the Brit so much that his jaw goes loose and releases the mangle mess of Gilbert's shoulder.

A chuckle comes from Gilbert's panting and worn body. "Guess my shriveled, black heart will live to see another day, huh?"

Arthur echoes the laugh humourlessly, a mixture of the Prussian's and his own blood dripping form his mouth. "You..." He struggles to get the words out, vision blurry and mouth uncooperative. "Fought dirty. Just...like you always do."

The Brit's head can't seem to stay upright anymore, so it stays resting on Glibert's shoulder. "Not exactly fair...w-was it now?" He leans heavily on the other man, body sapped of strength and blood. He can't keep his eyes opened any longer and he knows within his bones he only has a few moments left.

He spends them regretting.

Although Arthur cannot see it, you see the other man gives a sharp, vicious smile at the words.

"That's what you get for breaking the rules."

And the feed cuts.]

The Clue Floor has ten open doors.
There is one clue split into three parts.
Three doors. Three pieces of a puzzle

Be wary little rabbits.
Good luck on your final round.

[Your feet move without you really noticing. Takes you up the stairs, past the second, third, fourth floor and then you're standing at the same double doors you just watched Gilbert move through. You take a deep breath, look back at your remaining companions and push it open.

A theatre is splayed out before you, brilliant golden light raining down from the cobweb-hung chandeliers. It has a musky grandeur and you walk inside, looking at the velvet seats and the second balcony above you and then you look at the stage and your heart skips a single beat.

That warm and comfortable scene that Arthur and Alfred have been living in for the past few days is laid out on the stage. You see the armchair and the decanter and the costumes lying just a little ways off next to a door with a large star on it. Arthur and Alfred's names are written on the star in blood. You swallow and don't dare to try the door.

Carefully, you all move to the scene set in the middle of the stage and you look to the door on the left of the stage. The one leading to the final clue room. For a moment, you all wait, you all take a sip from the decanter even though it is foul and then you all move to the door and open it.

It is plain. No tricks like the other floors. Ten doors surround you, numbered from one-to-ten. You all look around.

Ten doors. Three clues. One last chance.]

This round, there are ten open doors and three parts of a clue behind three doors. Each room with be the exact same on the inside, white and square. It will either contain a clue or not. Each person will walk into the room, have the door shut, find the clue or not. If a wolf finds one of the clue rooms, they are free to destroy the clue and pretend as they their room had no clue.

Let me remind you, again, that this is the final clue round. Good luck to all players.