IC The Rose Motel - [Murder Mystery RP]

Discussion in 'Roleplayer's Realm' started by 4xdblack, May 30, 2016.

  1. 4xdblack

    4xdblack Accomplished Booty-Cop
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    ~The Rose Motel~

    It's been a long day. You're tired, your eyes feel heavier than the world on your back. You prepare yourself for the deep slumber that will restore your mind and reinvigorate your body. As you slip into the warm protection of your bed, you slowly drift into the night's sleep. Your dreams carry you off into an unknown world.


    Suddenly you wake from your sleep. Your mouth is dry, you need water. The room is black, so you reach for your bedside lamp and flip the switch. The room is illuminated by the soft orange glow and so, you slowly walk yourself to the bedroom door. You turn the door knob and pull open the door. As you take your first step you find yourself in complete darkness. The soft light glowing from your room is blocked as the door swings closed behind you. Slam!


    In fear, you turn around and throw your fists at the door; but it's not there. There is no light, no walls, no sound. You scream but there is no echo. Suddenly you begin to fall. You fall desperately into an abyss of black. But the fall drops you back into your body. Your eyes open and your body is shaken to it's core. You are back in your bed. The sun peeks gently through your curtains as it warms your room. You shrug off last night as a bad dream. It's morning, time for work.


    You brush your teeth, eat breakfast, drink your coffee. You dress yourself for work and get ready to leave. Grabbing your personal effects. Keys, wallet, phone. It is time to leave. You open the front door prepared to leave. The knob turns and the door swings open brushing a gentle breeze against you. But you stop in fear. What lies beyond the door is yet another abyss of darkness. You try to run from it, but as you turn around your house disappears. Everything and everyone in it, has vanished. You are in a black void. Dropping onto your knees,You start to panic. Your breath shortens, and your heart beat hastens.


    A light appears from the distance with the sound of an opening door. You pick yourself off the ground. The light from beyond the door blinds your unadjusted eyes. You walk towards the light, slowly, anxiously. You have approached the door, the light still blinds you so that you cannot see past it. Swallowing your fear, you venture on through the door. As you walk, you find yourself standing in front of a motel. You stand on the threshold of it's property. This motel is not your home. The motel is gated. The black gates are just as tall as you are. Everything beyond that gate is pitch black, like the void. You approach the courtyard, the center of this motel, the property is dimly illuminated as if a street lamp were bearing it's light. In the middle is a small kiosk, occupied by what seems like an old Butler.


    As you approach, the light from the kiosk reflects off the asphalt. Soon you are face to face with this man, and he says to you;


    "Welcome to the Rose Motel. Here, you are both guilty and innocent. Both victim and murderer. Be seen as the murderer and you will be killed. Kill the real murderer and you will be rewarded with your freedom. Kill the wrong murderer, you will be trapped forever. Good luck."


    The old man hands you a numbered key.

    The game has begun.

    ____________________________________________________________________________

    Each of you have your own rooms. Inside those rooms is a bed to the right of you, a desk to the left, and towards the end is your bathroom. On the desk you see a lone folder and directly next to it is a large stack of folders
    [​IMG]
    . The lone folder is labeled "Victim". The stack which is considerably tall is labeled "Suspects". Each of these folders contains a personnel file. A name, age, description/picture, personality description, occupation, bio, and motive. There are 12 people in total, including yourself.

    ~Victim~
    Name: Cassandra Carmichael
    Age: 65
    Occupation: Cancer Treatment Development/Actress
    Bio:
    Mrs. Carmichael is the daughter of Catherine and Carl Cassidy. Along with two other siblings, Carol and Connor Cassidy. Married at age 20 to Christopher Carmichael. Mrs. Carmichael's husband Christopher served in the military as a communications officer, and after a 4 year term he returned home to marry Cassandra. 6 years later, the Carmichael family had grown in number with the birth of a set of fraternal twins, Cody and Candice Carmichael. Mrs. Carmichael took on her life long dream of becoming a hollywood actress. Her mature flair and ladylike manners quickly gave her popularity around the world, staring in blockbuster movies. But to her dismay, her husband Christopher was diagnosed with cancer. It was then she decided to switch careers, to the career of Cancer treatment development. Returning to college with the fortune she had earned, and disappointing millions of fans, she spent whatever time and money she had left with to finding a cure for her husband. Soon enough, she became a leading mind which resulted in thousands of saved cancer victims. At age 70, her husband Christopher died of cardiac arrest, leaving Cassandra a widow at age 62. Mrs. Carmichael never retired however, she continued her research until she was mysteriously murdered at age 65 in her motel room, in Claremont California. The case remains unsolved.

    ~Suspects~

    Name: Gavin "G-Rated" Columbus
    Age: 21
    Appearance: Blonde, Brown eyes. Wearing grey sweatpants, a promo t-shirt for one of Cassandra's old movies under a bright red hoodie, and sneakers. Looks like he doesn't get out much.
    Personality: Acts cheerful and generally outgoing, but also a bit reserved in serious situations. He acts a bit spaced out at times, usually when he's thinking really hard about something or concentrating.
    Occupation: Head of Cassandra's fan-club (according to him)
    Bio: Growing up, Gavin had a lot to deal with. An only child with parents who CONSTANTLY argued (they divorced when he was 16), along with some bullying in school, and several family members with severe problems of their own, from a doting aunt who was constantly in debt with loan sharks, a drug-dealing cousin who eventually wound up in prison, and a grandfather on his mother's side who was diagnosed with lung cancer and subsequently took his anger out on the rest of the family. Life was an ongoing hell for Gavin, and he sought escape from the barrage of abuse and anger in movies, books, and anything else he could distract himself with. He became a huge fan of one of Cassandra's movie, and in turn her as an actress. Was an active part of her fandom, attending conventions and discussing her works with other fans in detail. His involvement in her fandom became one of Gavin's main distractions from his increasingly difficult life, but he would argue her works "gave him the strength" he needed to keep going.
    Motive: Being a huge fan of Cassandra, it was obviously heart-breaking for him to hear about her change in vocation. But perhaps it had a bigger impact then he lets on? With everything he's been through, Cassandra's work might have been more than just a source of strength. It may very well have been one of the few things that kept him sane. And having had to help take care of an abusive relative with the very illness his beloved actor had dedicated her life to treat, is it possible he holds resentment towards her for it despite her good intentions? Whatever the case, if he had a chance to get "close" to the victim before she died, what would he do...?

    Name: Arthur Belgrazzo
    Age: 27
    Appearance: Arthur is tall and lanky and sports pitch black hair that frames his face, three bead strings of many colours hangs on the left side, and piercing green eyes. He tends to wear dull coloured t-shirts, black jeans, and heavy leather boots. Arthur will always be wearing a worn, dark grey leather jacket.
    Personality: Brooding and moody, Arthur is short on patience and quick to anger. He considers himself high in intelligence and looks down upon those that are, or appear to be, less clever than him. Mention of his past brings a cold and dangerous aura around him.
    Occupation: Barman in a dingy, city outskirt bar.
    Bio: Arthur was a loner from a very young age. His interests tended to veer away from everyone else’s and into things no one wanted to speak to him about. There was never a theme, he was never into one particular thing, he was always just interested in something else. Teachers stayed away from him, the other kids stayed away from him, even his parents kept as much distance as they could; Arthur became very used to hanging around with himself. But until six years ago, Arthur was just the weirdo who no-one associated themselves with; six years ago, he was arrested as a suspect in a series of grisly murders. Less than circumstantial evidence pointed the police in his direction, but they were desperate by then and he was hauled in immediately. He was eventually found innocent in a court of law due to lack of any actual evidence, but by then it was too late, everyone from the police to his own mother thought he had done it. His lack of provable alibi, creepy demeanour, and fact he refused to verbally defend himself, meant everyone was convinced of his guilt. Once released, he moved away from the city in question, grew his hair and dyed it black, and found the darkest hole he could to hide away. The case in question remained unsolved.
    Motive: With everyone sure he has already killed, multiple times, what’s to say he hasn’t done it again? The killer’s targets from before matched Cassandra’s type; a former actress and over 60 years old.


    Name:
    Marcus Landry
    Age: 20
    Appearance:
    [​IMG]
    Personality: Quick to act which sometimes gets him into trouble. He has a superior mind but never considers himself above anyone unless they can outwit him, which he then gives props. Competitive and never wanting to loose but he is easily disheartened when he's sure of himself only to be proven wrong--not sure if this works as a personality, I'll understand him better once I begin writing.
    Occupation: Unemployed, although helps at local hospital to maintain the sanitary environment.
    Bio: Gone though chemo and being in a physic ward most of his young life he has had troubles adjusting to a normal life. His parents have moved on, leaving him be on his own and caring little for him even though he's fine, he blames himself for their money troubles and a divorce. They never argued in front of him and it happened silently behind his back, he was told and he moved on, he's gone though hell already. What more is there? Because of this he found company in stuff toy he was giving by a nice lady at the Hospital he now works at in the evenings. Finding himself talking to the stuffed bird he keeps in his breast pocket he finds placidity in the world around him when his nerves are acting up.
    Motive: His mind has been shattered for a long time and he remembers the woman--Cassandra Carmichael--who gave him the toy well, yet he doesn't remember if she was his own mother or a complete stranger. Still being young, he has yet to come to terms with his own life and looks to blame someone. He himself has been punished already, yet he feels the need to punish someone for his own troubles, and without a proper upbringing, his views on how people should live their lives are skewed. Who's to say he'd kill?

    Name: Fluaw Manhunter
    Age: 28
    Appearance: A man with a long grey jacket and a black shirt, 6 foot and brown hair. He wears a mask that is split in the middle, one half being a black happy face and one half being a white angry face. The only thing sure about his face is that he has Bright green eyes
    Personality: Mysterious and A little bit psychopathic with a tad bit of murderous violence. He is as likely to help you walk trough hell as to throw you into the abyss
    Occupation: Was arrested and is just out of jail for murder
    Bio: ManHunter Prefers to go by his last name, He grew up in a poor family in wich he did his best to help gain money and do all the jobs around. But this eventually wasnt enough, so he went and got a contract with a man name Jorge Mcgroose A rich man, he said that he would provide for his family as long as he did jobs for him. Smugling stealing spying those kind of things, but when Jorge asked for Fluaw to kill a man he refused, jorge became violent and started throwing things at fluaw. In the rush of the moment fluaw murdered jorge and was caught by the police. In prison his mind got tainted and twisted which led to him being both kind and evil, helping and betraying, healing and killing
    Motive: Its simple, Death is thrilling.... and just a little fun. Cassandra being a person doing good, Fluaw wanted to make her feel fear and pain like he did. Make the curtain of happiness fall and bring despair

    Name: Robin Smith
    Age: 27
    Appearance:
    [​IMG]
    Personality: Robin is usually reserved but comfortable interacting with people. Has a good head on his shoulders and isn't quick to judge people. Even though some of his actions might seem altruistic, he does have ulterior motives.
    Occupation: Accountant in a renowned private firm.
    Bio: Robin was orphaned at birth. He spent the entirety of his 19 years in Hertford Home for Children, graduating from the orphanage high school with excellent marks. Thanks to private charity from wealthy donors, Robin was able to enroll for a major in a reputed college and earn a degree thus landing him his current job. Ever since he aged out of foster care Robin has been actively engaged in finding leads as to the identity/whereabouts/present condition of his parents. The fact that he was abandoned kept eating him from the inside out and finding his parents would finally snuff out the anger he'd been carrying around with him since childhood.
    Motive: After a lot of investigating, Robin finds out that he is Cassandra Carmichael's bastard child. What if they had a heated discussion upon their first meeting in the motel and things went south?

    Name: Myra Ellison
    Age: 19
    Appearance:
    [​IMG]
    Personality: Myra is much more of a listener than a talker, as she likes to observe her surroundings instead of being a part of them. She avoids arguments, as she finds them slightly frightening and frustrating. Very sweet young lady, but will be especially rude to anyone who she feels threatened by.
    Occupation: Novice Photographer
    Bio: Myra grew up in a household with two older siblings that were distant in age. With her oldest brother being center of attention, and her second oldest brother being a "rebel" and always going against their parents wishes, Myra was kind of the child that wasn't really given the attention you would expect towards the youngest child. Growing up, Myra was picked on as a child as she seemed to have a slightly different personality and outlook as the children around her. As she aged though, she found herself in the more artistic clique in high school, that slightly broke apart through the years as they all went their separate ways. Recently graduated from a very well sorted public school, Myra finds herself in the middle of her freshman college classes as a novice photographer.
    Motive: Blames Cassandra for all the doctors who couldn't save one of her best friends from being taken from cancer. Myra really believes that there is a treatment, but obviously can not prove it, as she thinks that people like Cassandra are hiding it because repeated treatment brings them in more money.

    Name: Frederick Stanton Colquehoun
    Age: 37
    Appearance:
    [​IMG]
    Personality: Most people would describe Colquehoun as a thoroughly unlikable individual. He runs his family like a tyrant and in business is ruthless and particularly cunning. He's smart and knows when to hold back but lacks any kind of charisma. A brooding man who never smiles Colquehoun is always thinking about whichever devous plan he can set into motion next and how best to crush those standing in his way.
    Occupation: Businessman/land owner
    Bio: The latest patriarch in the wealthy Conquehoun bloodline. When his forefathers settled in the Louisiana Bayous centuries ago they began the Colquehoun trading company which before long flourished and made the Colquehoun family very wealthy. Over the centuries their wealth and influence grew to the extend that by the start of the twentieth century they were the most influential trading compnay in the United States. That is untill they were suddenly outmanouvred by a rapidly growing competitor: Carmichael inc, who used planes to transport cargo instead of ships like the Colquehoun trading company did. Within less than a decade the company went from being the most powerful trading company in the US to a small firm that only the most loyal of clients still used on occassion. While they were allowed to keep their mansion the family lost most fo their lands and all of their influence over the Lousiana state council and the American senate.

    Frederick grew up listening to his own father's drunken angry rants about how powerful the company once was and how much he hated the Carmichaels for ruining their fortune. Ever since this time it's been Colquehoun's dream to one day restore the Colquehoun trading company to its former glory and crush Carmichael inc forever. He's worked tirelessly towards this goal, sparing no expense and not caring who's lives he had to ruin. He's made deals with certain underworld figures, messed with accounts and even executed a succesfull hostile takeover of one of Carmichael's subholdings. At age twenty he married a nineteen year old socialite who's father was in business with his own father. Their mariage is a loveless one and she's taken to heavy drinking. They share two sons: Frederick jr and Roger. His oldest Frederick jr is just as smart and cunning as his father but years ago became disgusted by his tyranical father and spineless, drunken mother so he ran away from home and neither Colquehoun nor his wife have heard from him since. His youngest Roger is brash and impulsive and completely lacks any intellect or business instincts. He's already had several run ins with the law and it's only been thanks to the relative influence of the Colquehoun name and some generous donations to the Louisiana police force that he's not acquired a milelong rapsheet. Colquehoun fears that were Roger to take over the business he would run it into the ground almost instantly which only strengthens his resolve to make the Colquenhoun Trading Company prosperous again and the Colquehoun name one that is respected and feared throughout all of the US.

    What little spare time he has Colquehoun spends by either meeting up with "Evangeline" his favourite call girl who has mild feelings for or hunting wild animals on the estate.
    Motive: With the former head of Carmichael Inc, Christopher Carmicheal deceased the majority of shares in the company lay with his wife Cassandra. With her now also dead and their children being spoiled brats no more capable of running the firm than his own son Roger would be, Carmicheal inc is currently in a state of chaos with no one sure who the shares should go to and who should run the firm now. It would be easy for Colquenhoun to take advatage of this situation and execute a hostile takeover. It's no secret Colquehoun will go to great lengths to restore his company to its former splendor. But the question is...would he resolve to murder?


    Name: David Ritt
    Age: 24
    Appearance: He is of an average build and tall at 6'2". His hair is dark brown and could use a haircut. His eyes are blue. He doesn't have any piercings or tattoos. He usually wears his employee uniform due to laziness and happens to be his most recognizable outfit. His uniform consists of a black button down short sleeve shirt, black pants, and black dress shoes.
    Personality: He tends to keep to himself due to both a lack of a social motivation and wariness of strangers. He is protective to those he cares most about, which is currently no one.
    Occupation: Supermarket Cashier
    Bio: David used to be a student at a local university, studying to become an engineer. Midway into his second year, his mother suddenly and unexpectedly passed away in her sleep. At the time, David's mother was taking care of his younger, mentally ill sister, Amy. After the funeral of his mother, David returned home to take care of Amy in his mother's place.
    To help support them, David took a job as a cashier at the nearby supermarket. While he was at work, he was able to keep Amy occupied by letting her watch movies. Amy was just a year younger than David, yet she acted very childlike. Many of her actions were misguided, and on occasion led to Amy hurting herself. However, Amy would be very cooperative when she was occupied with her current obsessions. Her obsession was that of the actress, Cassandra Carmichael. Whenever a new movie came out starring Cassandra, Amy would beg David to get it for her. David was happy to oblige because it kept Amy happy and safe from hurting herself. For a while, this plan worked, even letting David consider going back to school even part time. However, when it was announced that Cassandra would be leaving the big screen to medicine, specifically cancer treatment, Amy wished to follow.
    Amy wished to one day meet Cassandra, and whole heartedly believed that now she'd have a chance. David was able to convince Amy that Hollywood was unreachable, but now with the idea that Cassandra would be treating cancer patients, Amy began to use "home treatments" to give herself cancer. David intervened each time, having to lock light bulbs away and removing the microwave. As he removed Amy from harms way he seemingly convinced her to let it go, appeasing her need for Cassabdra through one of her movies on DVD.
    David was back at work when he received a call from the hospital. Amy had poisoned herself in another attempt to give herself cancer. As a result, Amy passed away. She accidentally killed herself all so she could meet Cassandra. David felt a mix of emotions having basically lost his entire family in a short period of time. As he sat in an empty hospital bench, a commercial started playing from the waiting room television advertising Cassandra's cancer research and the progress it's made. It ended with a request for patients to volunteer a trial run of the treatment. For whatever reason this angered David who felt that Amy died to be one of the very people that Cassandra was asking for. Had Cassandra remained in the movie industry, Amy would be alive and well, enjoying the latest and greatest Cassandra movie. He left the hospital with a irrational hatred towards Cassandra.
    Motive: Felt it was Cassandra's fault Amy died because she left the film industry.

    Name: Aoba Orihara
    Age: 27
    Appearance:
    [​IMG]
    Always wears a necklace with a pentagram that was given to him by his boyfriend Eduard.
    Personality: Aoba is short-tempered, over-confident and arrogant youth with trust issues. He has sadistic, perverted, twisted, cold and vindictive personality, but can be quite funny and charming. He loves to tease and bully and has no problem with killing others if he finds the reason acceptable to him. He is also very smart and learns things quickly, although he also works hard. Because of his childhood trauma that caused trust issues it's hard for him to fall in love with someone, but when he does he will do anything for that person. His most praised possession is the necklace with a pentagram that was given to him by his boyfriend Eduard.
    Occupation: Ex-Soldier, Private Security Contractor
    Bio: Aoba was born into a rich family. He was a cute child so his parents and employees at their mansion spoiled him. He could get whatever he wanted with only one word. However, when he was 6 years old his favorite nanny sold him to a pedophile ring. He was tortured and raped for 7 years until one day police squad raided one of their hideouts and rescued him and other victims.

    When he returned home his parents saw that their little cheerful, spoiled brat was gone and in his place stood a cold, untrusting teenager. His parents did everything to make him feel safe and protected again, but Aoba needed a year to completely adapt to the changes and even longer to start overcoming the psychological traumas he suffered.

    At first, to forget everything that happened to him Aoba became obsessed with being the best at everything. He worked hard every day and only slept from 5 to 3 hours a day to avoid nightmares. He promised to himself that he would never be a victim again.

    At school he usually avoided people and kept them at the distance. He developed a superiority complex and became arrogant. People either groveled at his feet or hated him. During his final year in high school he met a first year Eduard.

    Eduard was an innocent teenage boy. He was kind, happy and trusting. The exact opposite of Aoba. Aoba met Eduard in the literature club he belonged to when Eduard came in to fill in the application form to join it too. At first, Aoba avoided Eduard as much as he could, but due to Eduard’s eagerness and wish to get along they somehow ended up spending time together at the library reading books in silence. But silence didn't last long and Eduard started talking to Aoba about his life while Aoba pretended to read a book, but in reality he listened to his underclassman. Days passed and their relationship changed with them. Aoba started replaying to Eduard and soon after they became lovers.

    Their love was true and pure that even when Aoba graduated from high school and decided to join the army Eduard stood by him. He understood that Aoba needed to overcome his psychological problems and to do that he required to become stronger. He also knew that Aoba wasn’t doing it just for himself. He wanted to be strong in order to be able to protect Eduard since he knew about the horrors in this world.

    When Aoba was deployed, Eduard waited for him for years and kept in touch via letters, emails, calls and video calls. With Eduard in his life, Aoba became happier and learned what passion is. He also discovered his perverted side that loved to tease his beloved Eduard.

    However, their life together didn't last that long. After 8 years together Eduard was finally taken away from Aoba by cancer. Aoba was heartbroken. He cried until his eyes dried up, he cursed God until he couldn't speak anymore. His life lost its meaning, but when he over-heard two nurses talking about how Cassandra Carmichael used Eduard as a test subject in her search for cancer treatment and how the medicine she administered not only didn't cure Eduard’s cancer but also made it grow faster and spread also. So, Eduard’s stage 2 cancer that, could have been cured, transformed into stage 4 from the medicine Cassandra administered. Resulting in Eduard’s untimely death.

    Aoba couldn't believe what he heard. He was furious, angry and just wanted to barge into Cassandras office and strangle her and feel her life slip away in his hands. However, he controlled his fury and decided to investigate if what he heard is true. He didn't have to dig deep it's not like police investigates cancer deaths. Aoba learned that what he heard nurses say was true and that Eduard isn't the only death she caused. He also learned that the hospital is covering this up. He was beyond furious now. His beloved innocent, kind-hearted Eduard was used as a test subject and taken from him. He wanted revenge and vowed to make everyone involved in this pay by taking away everyone and everything they love.

    He left the army and became a private security contractor since the pay check is better and with his skills the company would over-look anything illegal he did and even help him out if he asked.

    Motive: Aoba finds out that his boyfriend was used as a test subject in Cassandra Carmichael search for cancer treatment and that the drug she administered made his cancer grow fast and spread. Resulting in his death. He wants revenge.


    Name: Angela Goodwill
    Age: 68
    Appearance: Simple and cute granny. She is about 1.70 m tall. Has short and grey hair, blue eyes, medium build. Usually, she chooses to wear smart type clothes.
    Personality: Smart with closed personality. She has emotional issues when it comes to connecting with people. She is open and comfortable when things are about her study object and work related things.
    Occupation: Lecturer (University of medicine)
    Bio: Angela is a retired immunology lecturer. She gave all her life to her students and university community. From childhood she was all in science and not really a social person. She never had a lot of friends. Today Angela is living alone with her cat Tabby. She doesn't have any family or relatives. She has never been married. She met Cassandra and Michael Carmichael, while Cassandra were studying at the same university.
    Motive: Angela and Cassandra became very close during the studying period. Cassandra was one of the oldest students in that group. They became friendly not only on lecture-related level. Cassandra told a lot about her life and why she chose this path. She told a lot about her family and Michael. Suddenly, Angela fell in love with this opposite allusion to her unsuccessful personal life. She got attached to Cassandra's family. After Michael's death Angela suffered a great pain, because her imaginary "ideal family" model shattered into pieces. She blamed Cassandra for not taking good care of Michael.

    Name: Nishida Kazuhiko
    Age: 28
    Appearance:
    [​IMG]
    Personality: Calm, calculated and incredibly intelligent, Kazuhiko is generally one step ahead of everyone around him. Despite appearing like a rather cold person, he respects people who can prove that they're useful in some way, looking out for those he cares about. He finds himself unable to form friendships with easygoing, relaxed people, and prefers those who are diligent and hardworking.

    Kazuhiko mostly keeps contained about his personal feelings, but when he becomes invested in something he will speak up. He is blunt and businesslike in the way he speaks, and is especially condescending to people who aren't particularly necessary to him. To him, people are much like tools. When functional, they should be cared for and used well. When broken, they are of no use, and should be cast aside.
    Occupation: Pharmaceutical scientist.
    Bio: Kazuhiko was the youngest of three brothers born into the wealthy Ueda family. Struggling both socially and academically in his early life, he was rejected by his parents, who pandered over his siblings.

    At the age of 15, when the two oldest brothers both went to a prestigious city high school, Kazuhiko developed a burning desire to achieve greater things than his siblings ever would. He used money from various part time jobs to pay a private tutor to visit him regularly throughout each week. For hours on end he would study the sciences, particularly biology. While his brothers relaxed alongside their doting parents, Kazuhiko worked effortlessly to prove his worth to the world.

    By 19, Kazuhiko had created a vaccination for a disease that was causing thousands of deaths in southern Africa, earning him critical acclaim as a scientist. One year later, he changed his surname to Nishida, as a sign that he was officially cutting all ties with his parents, and founded his own company that would develop and sell various medicines and drugs: Nishida Pharmaceuticals. Despite several years spent working on cures for small diseases, Kazuhiko and his brightest employees were working on something far more grand. A universal cure for cancer.
    Motive: Whoever developed a cure for all cancers would no doubt be seen as one of the greatest scientific minds in all of human history. And for Kazuhiko, it was the best way to show everyone that he had achieved something his privileged brothers and cruel parents never could. He had come so close to bringing his dream into reality, but there was one person who stood in his way: Cassandra Carmichael. If she achieved a cure first it would crush his hopes of besting his family, something Kazuhiko would not stand for.

    Name: Peyton Booth
    Age: 30
    Appearance:
    [​IMG]
    Personality: puts on a front that is friendly and often charming, and comes across as easy going, which helps her blend in unnoticed in her line of work. While she can be reckless, she is observant and can think quickly on her feet. She has an eidetic memory, and while she is usually motivated by money, this time there are personal attachments to her job. While she is aware she is in over her head, she also knows she has no choice, and her perserverence is endless. Her ego makes her think she is one step ahead of her client, but this may not be the case.
    Occupation: Private investigator posing as a magazine journalist writing a review on the motel.
    Bio: her parents died when she was 16, leaving her and her twin brother alone. In order to keep her off the streets, her brother lied about his age and enlisted in the military, sending her money and allowing her to finish school and go to university to study law - a subject she never would have passed without her eidetic memory.

    When she was 23, her brother was returned home with a strange degenerative disease for which there was no cure. He had contracted it on tour, but was not allowed to say where or how he had contracted it, and appeared distressed whenever she broached the subject.

    He had supported her for so long, she felt no hesitation in quitting her degree and opening a small Private Investigation firm to do the same in return. However, recently, his heath had rapidly declined, and without medical attention, he didn't have long left to live.

    Between jobs she desperately researched possible cures, and had uncovered no leads until a letter arrived offering her a job from a representative of a pharmaceutical company. In return for looking into troubling rumours about the cancer cure Cassandra Carmichael being tested on patients and proving to be fatal in many cases, she was offered a cure for her brothers illness.
    Motive: the victim was the one person standing in the way of her brothers cure. While she wouldn't kill someone for herself, she will do whatever her client asks of her to save her brother
    _____________________________________________________________________________

    You've been trapped inside a motel. You can't escape. You can't contact the outside world. You are with eleven other people who each one could be a possible murderer. The only person who seems to know what's going on is the Butler. And he tells you the only way to escape is to find a murderer, and kill them. What do you do now?


    The Rose Motel OOC thread

    Tags: @GreenSmartie @Fantasy @Kuze @Scruffie @Randoms @Yajuu_Kikuishi @Kakuri @Kerberos @MyaMeOhMy @Moe @Ravok @J4sm1n4
     
    #1 4xdblack, May 30, 2016
    Last edited: May 30, 2016
    Kakuri likes this.
  2. MyaMeOhMy

    MyaMeOhMy Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Sakuga's Butterfly Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

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    - Myra Ellison -
    [​IMG]
    Thickness within the stiff and uncomforting air seemed to have swallowed Myra up into her own nightmare. Her eyes brushing from her left to her right, she continued to step forward towards the tall, slightly rusted and not very promising, black gates. Silent, yet loud in atmosphere, and frightening in question, It was defiantly an extremely uncomfortable environment to be in. Dark... just complete darkness. Gulp. She gulped down her saliva stuck in her throat. Myra twisted her body to look back behind the entryway in which she started from. Yet, there then was nothing. Just more empty space, just more black curtains of question. It all seemed like one big nightmare. Yet no matter how hard she shook her head, the young brunette couldn't spin herself back into her own bed. A cold breeze slightly pushed against the tips of Myra's fingers as she held them up in the air. The tension in the air cause goosebumps to run down beneath her clothed arms.

    "Welcome to the Rose Motel. Here, you are both guilty and innocent. Both victim and murderer.
    "

    Twisting her body, her fingers brushed against the torso of an older man dressed well down in a suit. A shadow running down the edge of his face, only a slight smile peaked out from a stern, and unpleasant expression. Pulling backwards, Myra felt as if her foot started sinking within the sidewalk. Pulling her leg upwards, the started to make a turn backwards again until the hoarse voice grasped onto her attention again.

    " Be seen as the murderer and you will be killed. Kill the real murderer and you will be rewarded with your freedom. Kill the wrong murderer, you will be trapped forever. Good luck."

    "Oh..."


    Tilting her head, Myra looked at the older man in question and a slight amount of fear. Her body trembling in the presence of a complete stranger that seemed to be thinking with some sort of rubbish, she didn't know whether she had gone insane or whether she was forced to abide by some sort of sick and unruly tradition. She seemed to been placed within some sort of game, some sort of sick twisted game. Glancing to her right, Myra saw the curtains of black that didn't seem like they were going to open up anytime soon. Well, do I have a choice? With even stepping backwards, she seemed to have been subjecting herself to an area that had parished from existence. That just was it. The only choice was to continue on with this silly dream. Just to get it done and over with no matter how frightening it may have seemed to filter itself into.

    Pulling her fingers down to dig into her Alice in Wonderland rabbit hole deep pockets. Her fingers danced and wiggled, only to pull out a small, palm-sized camera, she turned to face the man who was now holding keys. She attempted smiling at him slightly in a gesture of slight acceptance and hope that he would smile back. Well, sadly to break the ice, but he didn't seem like he was going to even budge a happier expression. Lifting the camera to face directly towards the man, she placed her right index finger onto the on trigger to her camera. Taking a breath, Myra pressed her eyelid against the sight and clicked down on the shutter button . *TT-CLICK*
     
    #2 MyaMeOhMy, May 30, 2016
    Last edited: May 31, 2016
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  3. Moe

    Moe Fed to the Rancor

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    -Marcus Landry-
    “Welcome to the Rose Motel. Here, you are both guilty and innocent. Both victim and murderer. Be seen as the Murderer and you will be killed. Kill the real murderer and you will be rewarded with your freedom. Kill the wrong murdered, you will be trapped forever…” Sitting on bed and already looked briefly at the folders I consider my situation. “Good luck is an understatement.” I growl thinking of the old bastard which gave me the key and the forborne warning. Standing and walking over to the desk, I ready myself to look though them and the untold obscurities that could be contained within.

    All manila folders, I place my hands on the singular folder first, labeled as such.
    “Victim,” I say to myself, my nerves making the hairs on the nape of my neck stand on end. “Who…” Opening the folder, the name stands out to me. “Cassandra Carmichael.”

    My eyes scanning each line, each word, trying to understand it, and it’s easy enough to understand, a famous actor whose husband fell ill and who she felt the need to help. I remember her well to. Bringing my right hand to the breast pocket inside my suit jacket I feel around before I grab a hold of the small plushy which rests in the palm of my hand. A blue bird, one that Doctor Carmichael gave me personally as a kid. Years later after I had gone through treatment and was deemed cured, or lack thereof, I heard of her death.


    “But why are you here?”
    The blue bird asks the most pressing question on my mind. “Did you kill her?” At this point I am speaking to myself, it helps calm me, believing I have a friend in the blue bird. Placing it back in my pocket I continue on.

    Closing the folder, I look to the stack. Counting quickly, I see twelve possible suspects and I’m apparently one of them.

    “First is a male, 21, Gavin Columbus…G-Rated? That some kind of references?” Looking over the photo they have of him. “He looks like he doesn’t get out much.” Snickering to myself as I read a caption under his photo which says the same. His personality is general, not much to tell besides how he’ll act. Occupation was clear from the photo and his bio seems troublesome. The motive is at least understandable yet very delusional. “Typical.”

    Next Arthur Belgrazzo, emo looking, kind of like Batman. Another troublesome bio. And a motive that tells me nothing…next is…

    Pausing I figured I’d come upon myself, flipping the folder open I see a picture of myself, deep red hair even for a ginger cut short, yet long in front.
    “Same hair style you wear now; was this taken recently?” My blue bird friend asks but I ignore it. Blue eyes like a noble. Sadly, the personality giving is spot on, save for my own delusions of reality and fiction. Not a spec of mention there.

    Skipping my bio which I already know I scan my motive, and it’s questionable to say the least.
    “You don’t know who your own mother is?”

    “Quiet.” I yell “I know my mother…” but as I say those words I question myself. “I could of killed…”

    Shaking my head, I place my personal folder down, next being a Fluaw Manhunter. Age, irrelevant, suspicious looking mask like the Phantom of the Opera. Nice personality. Sarcasm implied.
    “The hell kind of occupation is that? Just out of prison for murder?” The rest is sketchy as hell and I doubt he can be trusted, not that I would. The bio redeems him slightly…still.

    Robin Smith, a simple man, yet not so simple considering the ulterior motives and being a bastard child.
    “What a joyful group I’m ending up with.”

    I’m awed to see a woman’s name on the next folder.
    “Myra Ellison. Young and beautiful, nice personality, decent job though I doubt money is involved. Normal background, yet her motive seems to be the clearest of everyone thus far.”

    Looking over the next one gives me goosebumps,
    “I know what I said about Myra but Fredrick…” I shake the thoughts from my head moving quickly for the next. “Not someone to be trusted at all.”

    “David Ritt, possibly someone I could trust. Killed or be killed.”

    As I read the one for an Aoba Orihara I am appalled, there is good and bad people in my book but he fits neither, rather I feel disturbed for having read about him. I find those kinds of relationships fine but the fact it calls him a pervert and sadistic makes me feel queasy.
    “He could be helpful, but would I be willing to take that help? Revenge, nope, I want nothing to do with him, going to stay away as much as I can.”

    “Next, next!” I yell going for the next folder glad to see only two left after this. “Angela Goodwill, name could be ironic.” I smile at the possible irony it could be entailing. “Yet nothing too distinct, a bit delusional like many others here.”

    “Nishida Kazuhiko, straight laced person it seems with family issues and an ego to boot. Nothing particularly bad about him, but a clear motive.”

    Setting the second to last file down on my “read” pile I pick up the last one, a Peyton Booth. Another beauty in her own sense, but also someone I can sympathize with to a degree, someone who just follows orders doesn’t seem to have a will of their own so that’s bothersome but not threatening.

    Planting the last folder to the side I calm myself, standing and pacing back and forth in front of the door. I’m in a motel with strangers and we’re being tested, that’s the only way I see this, yet it’s a death game and I don’t want to die. I best solve this fast.

    “But you don’t know if you killed her.”

    I answer the blue bird with confidences.
    “We’re all here for the same reason, I doubt any of us know they killed her, yet we all have motives, some better than others. I best watch myself and choose my allies wisely.”
     
    #3 Moe, May 30, 2016
    Last edited: Jun 2, 2016
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  4. Kakuri

    Kakuri The Disappointment
    Gold Founder

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    - Nishida Kazuhiko -
    “Kill the real murder and you will be rewarded with your freedom. Kill the wrong murderer, you will be trapped forever. Good luck.” The Butler leaned across the kiosk he was seated at and dropped a small, rusty key into Kazuhiko’s hand. Kazuhiko inspected it, and noted the room number that was etched onto it.

    “What am I supposed to do with this?” Kazuhiko asked, and the old Butler merely stared the man in the face. Sighing, Kazuhiko swiftly pushed the key into one of the many pockets on his white lab coat and walked past the kiosk, into the broad courtyard of the motel. It looked worn and damaged, living up to every cliché image of a motel Kazuhiko had read about in stories. What was more intimidating than the motel, however, was the perpetual darkness that lay beyond the borders of the property. It didn’t seem natural, with the eerie blackness seeming to have a life of its own, watching and waiting to see what Kazuhiko would do next.

    The scientist pulled a mobile phone out of his pocket: the one he used to contact his top employees back at his lab. Communication was paramount in his company, Nishida Pharmaceuticals, so he kept his phone on him at all times. He tried dialing Mr. Hashiba, the vice leader of his R&D department, but he merely got the repetitive ringing in his ear that told him there was no signal. Despite not knowing what he wanted to say to the man, Kazuhiko was angered that he could not contact the outside world, and hastily shoved his phone back into his pocket. “This is more than problematic,” he said, observing the motel once more, “but I can’t let myself panic. Everything in this world can be explained, so that’s what I must do: search for an explanation.”

    Kazuhiko strided over to the nearest door he could find and tried the handle. Nothing, just a dull metallic clunk. He moved to the left and tried another. Still, nothing. He continued this for the entire row of doors and not a single one showed signs of opening, until he got to the end. Kazuhiko inserted his key, turned it, and slowly the door eased open. Inside was a very standard motel room. A bed, desk, toilet with a shower, everything one needed for a basic night’s rest. “Not particularly clean, but a beggar can’t be a chooser in a situation like this,” Kazuhiko muttered, closing the door behind him.

    He approach the desk that stood to the left of the entrance, and noticed a large stack of folders on top, each with a name attached. He briefly scanned through each one, noting the names and faces of every individual who would supposedly be residing at the motel alongside him. What particularly caught his eye was a folder labelled: ‘Victim: Cassandra Carmichael’. “So this is what it’s about. Interesting. Very interesting.” Kazuhiko said to himself. He pulled out a little wooden chair that sat under the desk, seated himself on it, and began reading Cassandra’s file in detail, as a ghost of a grin appeared on his face.
     
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  5. GreenSmartie

    GreenSmartie Sakugacity's (Self-Proclaimed) Mascot

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    - Gavin Columbus -
    "Welcome to the Rose Motel. Here, you are both guilty and innocent. Both victim and murderer. Be seen as the murderer and you will be killed. Kill the real murderer and you will be rewarded with your freedom. Kill the wrong murderer, you will be trapped forever. Good luck."
    Gavin blinked a few times, confusion still at the forefront of his mind. "Hello to you too? Wait, murderer? Who-"
    He quickly fell silent as his met the mysterious Butler's gaze. Something about his somewhat cold demeanor made it clear he wouldn't be getting many answers from this mysterious figure, at least not directly. His eyes darted from the butler to the numbered key he'd been handed.
    "I guess I'll just uh.....go check out my room. Um....I love the, er, 'aesthetic' of the place? Yeah yeah, the aesthetic! This motel must get lots of good-" Gavin's mumbling died out as he looked up at the butler's face again. Man, this guy sure had a way of draining all the energy out of a room Gavin thought to himself as he shuffled off to find his room.

    Gavin's head was reeling from the moment he first looked at the file. It was bad enough he'd be kidnapped, or spirited away or whatever to this creepy middle of nowhere "Motel", but to be a SUSPECT in the death of his beloved Cassandra's murder? He'd remembered when he'd first seen the news report on her death. He cried until his eyes were puffy and red, and spent the rest of the week trying (and failing) to process the information. Gavin couldn't remember the last time he'd been so thoroughly heart-broken. Nobody in the world could replace the hole in his heart left by Cassandra's death. She was more than just a flawless actor, in Gavin's eyes she was an absolute icon, no, a GODDESS. No one could compare to her, and the world was worse off without her. But if there was a chance he could bring her killer to justice....
    In the back of his mind and the pit of his stomach, Gavin felt something he hadn't felt in what seemed like a very long time. For a moment, a few old memories flickered in his minds eye, and with them a wave of fear as he struggled to suppress his recollections of the past.
    It's not like that Gavin. It's justice, it's JUSTICE. It's not like that, this is okay. This is good, this is gonna keep you going. Just hold onto it, don't think, don't think about it. Gavin shuddered as he took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. He could do this. Just look for clues, watch your back, find a weapon or something, then- then everybody goes home, it's all over. All over.....
    Gavin moved to leave the room, then remembered the file he'd found when he first entered. I should probably take it with me or something he thought, retracing his steps to the table where the folder lay. Rather than take the entire thing, he grabbed the photos of the other suspects and tucked them into one of his hoodie pockets before finally stepping out of his room to explore the motel.
     
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  6. Ravok

    Ravok ~Hoping he will get a reply soon

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    -Fluaw Manhunter-
    "Welcome to the Rose Motel. Here, you are both guilty and innocent. Both victim and murderer. Be seen as the murderer and you will be killed. Kill the real murderer and you will be rewarded with your freedom. Kill the wrong murderer, you will be trapped forever. Good luck."
    Fluaw at first was confused, but quickly realized that questions right now were not going to help his situation. The butler had this cold neutral expression on his face, but he liked that, someone who you can expect both good and evil from. The Butler handed me a key without saying anything, the key having a number on it, Fluaw assumed this was his room and grabbed it quickly looking at the man with a bit respect in his eyes. This was rare for him and just the thought of what he just did made him have one of his outbursts. A quick but loud laugh went trough the hotel as he walked to his room.

    As he entered his room he quickly realized something before even looking at the files on the table, this is worse then prison. At least in prison your own room is safe because its basicly unbreakable. But here not even your own room is safe, someone can easily break down the door here and smother you in your sleep. "Anyway, being afraid is going to help right now so lets take a look at those file i mean i should be able to have some fun in here" Fluaw took the files and didnt even look at the victim file, he just put it under his bed. He didnt have any intention yet to help with the murder, he first just wants thave some fun. But as he looks trough the files only three people really caught his attention, the crazy fan, the old lady and the journalist whom might even know more about him then the news said around the time of the murder.

    Fluaw stood up and started looking who were already there, so he knocked on the first door with light coming from under it that he could find. He heard a man talking to who fluaw could only guess as himself. He patiently waited for the man to open the door. "If i am going to survive this, i might as well get some trust from the other people. And information that is not written down in the files" He thinks as he waits patiently infront of the door
     
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  7. MyaMeOhMy

    MyaMeOhMy Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Sakuga's Butterfly Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

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    - Myra Ellison -
    [​IMG]

    The flash illuminated the dim-lit hallway, seemingly giving it a little pinch of life. Etching her hand back, Myra took a second to study the picture she had just captured. Focus on the golden metal "6" seemingly was the obvious pin point of the photo. Room six huh? From what she could tell... There seems to only be 12 rooms in this hallway. Was she the only person currently in the building at the moment, or was there others around her? Maybe if I knocked on another few of the rooms, I could probably see if someone else has any real clue as how to get out of this pitch black annoyance.

    As tempted as she was to explore around to see if there was any others, she decided maybe it was best to actually finish her current objective first since the Butler seemed to be making this into some sort of sick game. She looked upward towards her room. Her eyes laying dead center onto the number in front of her. Leaning forward, her small pale, left hand grasped the nob as she slipped in the key with her right hand. She then thrusted her left to an angle and pushed forward. A slight creak broke the eerie silence, only to make it even more un-nerving. The aura of the room was not any better than the outside of the motel. In fact, it seemed to feel just as cold, if not even more than back at the gate.

    In the slight distance, the sound of a door opening down the hall could be heard. Reacting in a jump, Myra quickly pressed her body forward, and slammed the door behind her. Okay okay, just calm the hell down Myra. Calm it. Now. Calm. Calm. Just please don't freak out. None of this is real. Taking a couple steps forward, She headed to the next obvious objective. The folders with vibrant red print on the desk. It is all a dream. Follow the steps. Get it all over with. Get. It. All. Ov- Oh who in the heck am I kidding. Wake up. Don't continue. Just..,

    Her head shook, the long brown strands dancing around in the still air, WAKE UP! She lifted her camera to face her, Pushing the on button forward, Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! The flash lit once, twice, three times, four, but here she was still in this room. Twisting back the off button, Myra lowered her arm from the above her, and now to her side. Stepping back, she grasped the chair to the desk behind her. Her eyes seemingly still had a bit of light blocking her sight from the repeated flash right into her face. She wasn't in a dream. It was real. Myra lowered herself in the slightly large chair that was behind her. Grasping onto the back of it, she rested her forehead against the top of it attempting to grow back some of her courage. Tilting her head to its side, she glanced slightly to the right of her, looking at the folders labeled "Top Secret". If this truly was a game, then the information in front of her defiantly wasn't any sort of secret to those in the rooms around her. They more than likely have the same information as she had been bestowed. Reaching her right arm back, she ripped the folders of the desk and pulled them to be in front of her at the back of the chair. Resting her eyes for a moment, she opened the first folder with a picture of a woman that she actually recognized... Cassandra Carmichael.​

    ----------- Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ -----------

    Flash, *TT-Click* Flash, Shutter, *TT-Click*, Flash, Shutter, Flash, *TT-Click* Paper slammed down. Shutter. Flash.

    ----------- Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ -----------

    Never trust one source. See all angles. Study all pieces of the story. Dropping the files back onto her room's desk, Myra only believed a few pieces of information from all of the information. One- She was a suspect. Two- There were eleven other suspects overall. Three- That one of them was defiantly a murderer. Four- She just felt more creeped out and wanted to get out of the building. Five- Any of these people could be a friend, or a murderer and she wasn't going to find out from pieces of paper. Pushing her chair back, she lifted herself up into a higher atmosphere. Ignoring her bed, there wasn't time to try and sleep any of this off, she continued on towards her door. Leaning in, she could hear a sound of voices on the other side. It would probably do her best for now if she just listened in. Leaning her ear up against the door, she could hear what seemed to be a man who was talking to himself somewhere nearby, and the sound of footsteps. *Clack, Clack, Clack* suddenly the footsteps stopped, but not at her door, probably at one down the hall. Wait... I left my key on the other side. Well great. Should she open the door and grab the key, or should she just wait? Taking a deep breath, she grasped the handle of the door.
     
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  8. Kuze

    Kuze Heaven's not enough
    Contributor

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    Robin Smith
    Robin couldn't recall how long he had been sitting there on the toilet, staring at Cassandra's picture. What was he thinking? Robin hadn't felt as hopeless as now in a long long time. All those years he'd been chasing shadows and digging up cold trails. But just when he was sure he'd found a glimmer of hope, fate dealt him a heavy blow.

    What worried Robin even more was how he got here and the man who greeted him outside the premises while handing him the key to this room.This was supposed to be the usual Monday at the office, just being another gear in the machine. But somehow he was in this motel. As their eyes met, but for a brief moment, Robin felt an inexplicable half conscious jolt of singular emotion; an impression that the man was trying to convey something through his eyes.

    Robin flushed the picture down the toilet and grabbed a towel. He noticed a single folder sitting on the floor labelled "Suspect". Robin picked up the folder and quickly went through the initial pages.

    "This is beginning to feel like it's curling up slowly and finding a throat to choke", Robin thought to himself.

    Robin tossed the folder on the bed, shut the bathroom door and turned on the shower.
     
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  9. Yajuu_Kikuishi

    Yajuu_Kikuishi Well-Known Member

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    Arthur sat perched on the side of the bed, avoiding the centre of it where a clear sag indicated it wasn’t going to be the most comfortable place to sit or, god forbid, sleep. He’d calmed himself down after his encounter with the desk man, he was still ignoring the stinging pain that ran through his hand where he had slammed it onto the desk demanding answers. Arthur had considered for a moment getting close to the man and wringing his neck until answers started flowing. But before he could think further on the subject, the desk man in question disappeared behind a door and when Arthur had tried to open it, he had found it locked tight. Figuring the only thing to do was just get to the room his key indicated, he did so quickly and made sure to lock the door behind him when he entered.

    His phone was still on the floor by the wall opposite him, where he had thrown it after finding out he couldn’t get any signal or data. Luckily, it was Nokia-made so it didn’t appear to be damaged. He planned on simply ignoring the ultimatum given to him about murders and murderers, but as he sat there thinking, his gaze drifted slowly towards the stack of manila folders on the small desk. He hadn’t touched them, hadn’t even looked at them harder than a glance until now. He had noted the single one on the left marked ‘Victim’ and the uppermost one on the right was marked with ‘Suspect’, figuring the ones below were all marked with such.

    As he looked at them from the bed, he counted 12 folders in the suspect pile; one was obviously going to be his, but that left 11 people who may consider him a murderer.

    What’s eleven more? He thought as he stood up and made his way over to the desk to stand and looked down at the folders.

    Without touching it, Arthur looked at the Victim’s folder and more specifically at the picture clipped to it. He frowned and pushed it aside as he took a seat. If he was to be forced to do this, he supposed he better get a handle on anyone else involved. It didn’t take him long before he placed the last ‘Suspect’ folder down and leant back in his chair. This brought back the memories of six years prior but he pushed them down and moved his thoughts back to the problem at hand.

    Arthur stood up and made his way to the door, unlocking it before stepping out; folders wouldn’t help as much as meeting a person face-to-face, so he planned to do just that. He wasn’t scared of them.
     
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  10. Fantasy

    Fantasy The Saint of SC
    Staff Advisory

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    **ANGELA GOODWILL**


    "Welcome to the Rose Motel. Here, you are both guilty and innocent. Both victim and murderer. Be seen as the murderer and you will be killed. Kill the real murderer and you will be rewarded with your freedom. Kill the wrong murderer, you will be trapped forever. Good luck."



    Angela stood in front of a butler for several minutes. When she looked around the motel lounge. Dim light, kinda old-fashioned lounge style. The fire place was cracking. She noticed a small sofa in the shadows next to the fireplace. She slowly moved in that direction. She sat on a sofa for some time watching several new people to come in. Young people. "So they all are here for the same reason..." she thought. Suddenly, she took out a notebook and a pencil from her handbag. She opened the notebook, and slowly scribbled something in... "Chapter Rose Motel - kill or be killed". She put the notebook back into the handbag.


    Spending enough time in the lounge she went to her room. "Number 10... number of God Osiris... Number of light and love... number of paradox, i guess" she thought. She opened the door into a bedroom and found two files. One was listed under "the victim" other "the suspects". She took "the victim" folder. Read it slowly for several times, closed the file and murmured "Michael...". She took a suspect folder and skipped thought the photos of the suspects. After walking around the room, she took out three bottles of pills from her purse. She opened one of the bottles and took the pill. She looked at the suspect folder again but this time she examined motive graph." We all had our own reasons to kill Cassandra... I think it is time to look around." she whispered silently to herself in the dark room and turned to the entrance door....
     
    #10 Fantasy, May 31, 2016
    Last edited: Jun 1, 2016
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  11. GreenSmartie

    GreenSmartie Sakugacity's (Self-Proclaimed) Mascot

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    - Gavin Columbus -
    Gavin sifted through the pile of photographs in his hands as he walked, quizzing himself on the details from the file for everyone.
    Okay, come on. There's me, photography chick, journalist chick, old lady, guy with a bird plush in his pocket, crazy mask guy, scientist guy, military guy, the OTHER crazy guy whom might be a serial killer, cashier with the dead sister, Cassandra's....
    Gavin stopped in his tracks as that last bit of information finally hit him. Cassandra having an illegitimate son? There's no way she'd do something like that. One of the many things about Cassandra that elevated her above the other Hollywood elite during her acting career was how she never got caught up in scandals or drama (at least, none that Gavin had heard of). Gossip tabloids had made up tons of crazy rumors to try and sell stories sure, but no one actually bought that crap. He'd personally defended her on numerous occasions over the Internet, and her fans were known for being quick to defend her from any and all outlandish accusations. Well, they and her top tier legal team, but all Hollywood stars had good lawyers, right? Whatever the case, Gavin assured himself that the file info on Robin was either incorrect or he simply hadn't remembered it correctly. He'd just go back and check-

    The sound of a shower started up made Gavin turn to look back down the hall. What the hell? Who takes a shower in a time like this? he wondered. That's like asking for someone to come kill you.
    As if on cue, several doors in the hall began to slowly swing open. Gavin's face paled, and he turned to dash away from the potential new murder case. No way in hell I'm taking chances Gavin had seen enough horror movies to know better than to stick around in that kind of scenario. Unfortunately Gavin couldn't entirely escape the cliche horror setup, as shortly after turning the corner he tripped over nothing in particular and got acquainted with the taste of the carpet flooring.
    "FWUK!BWAH!"
    Gavin cursed his bad luck, voice muffled by a mouthful a carpet. He pulled himself off the floor and casually brushed off his clothes before realizing he'd probably just made even more noise than whoever had decided to take a shower. He made a move to continue running, but then decided against it, opting for more of a brisk walking pace to minimize his chances of taking another spill.
     
    #11 GreenSmartie, May 31, 2016
    Last edited: Jun 1, 2016
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  12. Ravok

    Ravok ~Hoping he will get a reply soon

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    -Fluaw Manhunter-
    After a little bit of waiting Fluaw noticed that the woman in the room next to this one left her key in the door, not able to stop his instincts he quietly slides over to her door real quick and silently slides the key out of the door and puts it in his pocket next to his own key, just so he can prove a point later on. Afterwards he starts seeing people get out of their room. Probably because they have the same idea as him. Some are showering, for some reason unknown to fluaw.

    He stands in the middle of the hallway as he yells "Everyone, I would like you to gather somewhere in the dining hall... Wherever that is. It seems to me that before we figure this out, we should get to know each other or at least introduce each other" after saying this line he laughs again with that little insane tone to it. After yelling this trough the hallways loud enough so that the people showering can hear he goes looking for the kitchen, just so that he can quickly slide a kitchen knife in his jacket. After doing this, Fluaw starts looking for the dining hall and sits ontop of one of the tables.
     
  13. Fantasy

    Fantasy The Saint of SC
    Staff Advisory

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    **ANGELA GOODWILL**

    As Angela opened the door she saw some blonde guy lying on the floor and remembering all swear words he knew. "oh my... active young man" she thought.

    As she moved through the corridor she noticed a masked man taking key from a door. Room number 6. "Is it his room?" The same man asked everyone to gather in dining hall. Waiting to see what happens after Angela stands in the hallway.
     
    #13 Fantasy, May 31, 2016
    Last edited: Jun 1, 2016
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  14. Kakuri

    Kakuri The Disappointment
    Gold Founder

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    - Nishida Kazuhiko -

    Kazuhiko had finished reading every last detail in Cassandra's file. There was nothing in there that he didn't already know, and he had seen her death all over the news when it occurred, but it still fascinated him to read the words "mysteriously murdered" one more time. 'To think that someone as respected and loved as her would meet her end at the hands of a murderer. Truly amazing.' He thought to himself. He placed Cassandra's file back into its folder and stood up from the chair he was seated on. It didn't seem like there was anything else of interest in the room, and it was certainly no time to relax, so Kazuhiko opened the door to his room and slipped outside.

    Once he was back out in the hallway that all of the other rooms were connected to, he placed his key in the lock and made sure his room was secured. He had nothing in there for anyone to steal, but in a situation such as this, one couldn't be too cautious. Kazuhiko marched down the hallway, passing numerous rooms that sounded occupied. "I guess these people are the ones from the folders," Kazuhiko said under his breath, "I should make sure I know who I can and cannot trust as soon as possible."

    Reaching a glass door with a crack in the centre, Kazuhiko glanced into what looked like some kind of lobby. There was a desk with various papers and office stationary on it, several chairs, and a fireplace, with some dim embers burning around a log. Kazuhiko gently pushed open the door and entered the room. There were a few people, but no one was saying anything, rushing back and forth, keys in hand, obviously trying to figure out what on earth was happening.

    Kazuhiko decided to take a seat in front of the fire and picked up a newspaper sitting on a low-lying coffee table. It was a bit of an obsession of his to constantly check the headlines to see if he could see his company's name making the front page. However, the main story this time said "BELOVED ACTRESS CASSANDRA CARMICHAEL FOUND DEAD IN MOTEL".

    'Well, this is rather old news.' Kazuhiko thought. The newspaper was dated several weeks ago.
     
    #14 Kakuri, May 31, 2016
    Last edited: May 31, 2016
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  15. Scruffie

    Scruffie Pro Tarantula Bro-Fister
    Editor

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    Peyton was stirred slowly into consciousness by the hot water running over her face. She opened her eyes slowly, blinded by the single bulb hanging overhead. She rolled onto her side and noticed a small stream of blood trickling down the drain with the water. She managed to get onto her hands and knees and realised she was aching all over. As the water hit her left ribs, she hissed in pain. Fighting the nausea that crashed over her in waves, she got to her feet and ran her hand over her side. Blood. A lot of it.



    She rested her hands and forehead against the cool tiles, letting the hot water run down her back, waiting for the dizziness to subside. Her hair was clinging to her cheeks and shoulders as she reached for the left tap and turned it all the way off. She gasped as the water turned ice cold, but was jolted into a clearer state of mind. She turned the water off and carefully got out of the shower, unsure of the extent of her injuries... or how she came to have them.



    Standing in front of the mirror, she just stared at her reflection. Her left ribs were bruised, and she saw a long gash slicing through the middle of them, the source of the blood. A light bruise on her right cheek. And a small cut on her hairline. Not the worst state she'd been in, but she felt anxious that she could not remember how she had gotten the injuries.



    She pulled a small first aid kit out of the cabinet under the sink, and proceeded to stitch up her side with the help of the mirror. She gritted her teeth and hissed through them again. After a thousand whispered obscenities and what felt like hours, she was patched up. She wrapped her towel around her and walked into the small motel room.



    She stopped short.



    With a quick dart of her eyes she took in the scene all at once. An old man was stood in the doorway, arm extended, a key in his hand. A small pile of folders were stacked on the desk. They were different to her own files. Polaroids clipped to the top, she saw a face she recognised on the top: Cassandra Carmichael. Did this man know why she was here. She stepped sideways toward the desk, not taking her eyes off the man.



    "How did you get in here?"



    His eyes creased into the corner as his lips twitched into a slight smile. "Welcome to the Rose Motel. Here, you are both guilty and innocent. Both victim and murderer. Be seen as the murderer and you will be killed. Kill the real murderer and you will be rewarded with your freedom. Kill the wrong murderer, you will be trapped forever. Good luck."



    His hand was still extended. She turned her back to him long enough to grab the pistol that was strapped under the desk.



    When she turned back, gun raised, finger on the trigger, he was gone...



    The key was perched on top of the pile of folders.



    "What the f....?"
     
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  16. Randoms

    Randoms Ridiculously Awesome Randomness
    Silver Founder Plus

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    - David Ritt -

    David was reading through the files of the murder suspects when he heard a loud thump in the hall. Ever since he had first arrived at the mysterious motel, he could not shake a feeling of dread. For the first several minutes, the ambiance had put him on edge. Thus when the thump echoed in the hall, David could not help but jump. Gazing at the door, David finally felt calmed. The sudden noise got most of the nervousness out of David's system allowing him to approach the situation more rationally. But this place was anything but rational. None of it could be explained, and this was the most bothersome about this place.

    Despite having woken up to the few rays of the sun that had pierced his blinds, this motel was in a perpetual night, it's only illumination no better than an interrogation lamp. Having tried numerous method to wake himself up, David finally concluded that what was happening was real. After having been spoken to by the butler, and handed a key, David made his way to his... "his" room. On the desk were two sets of folders. David picked up the victims folder.

    "Cassandra Carmichael"

    David could not forget the name. Since his sister's passing he had calmed his hate to more of a disliking, however he could not honestly say he wasn't glad she had been killed. David had very little concern with Cassandra and her life, so he closed the folder and turned his attention to the other clearly larger pile clearly labeled "Suspects".

    He took the top folder, one for a man named Gavin "G-Rated" Columbus. Upon opening the folder, he was a little surprised by how short the information was. Everything was printed on a single page with a photo of the person held by a paperclip. David looked through each folder taking note of the name and skimming the rest of the information. What caught David's eye the most was the area marked "motive". Was this the butler's input, or the suspects? Regardless it was clear that everyone had one reason or another to kill Cassandra.

    Moving on to the next folder, David was both surprised and not that his name was in the pile. He took a moment to reflect. David resented Cassandra for removing herself from the one thing that kept Amy appeased, but he was sure he would not kill Cassandra because of it. He ran the situation in his mind. If he had the choice, would he kill Cassandra? Taking a quick breath, David opened it and only then did he question the origin of the information. It had his normal public information, but the information about his life, it was almost as though someone took the time to document it.

    It was this he was reading when the thump echoed the room. Other noises soon followed. Others in the motel were stirring and leaving their rooms. David took a quick look at his phone to confirm for the final time that he didn't have a signal. Resting his hands on his knees, David stood from his chair and meandered to the front door. He checked his pockets like he usually did before leaving the house out of habit. He had all his affects including the key to his room. Opening the door, a man in a mask passed him down the hall. David recognized him as Fluaw and guessed he was the person who was speaking. David didn't bother to follow him but rather looked down both ways down the hall as others were leaving their rooms. Shutting the door and locking it behind him, David waited to see how the others would react. This was a game that they were thrust in, and David wanted to find all he could to make it out.

    Preferably alive.
     
    #16 Randoms, May 31, 2016
    Last edited: May 31, 2016
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  17. Moe

    Moe Fed to the Rancor

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    -Marcus Landry-
    Not wasting anymore time here, I hear stirring about from the hall, even someone trying each door. “The keys are numbered…”

    Yes, they are, and numbered in such a way that they match the stack of folders. Pulling out my key from my pants pocket I stare at the 3 on it, then to the folders, mine was the third in the stack and I’m the third room here. Whoever set this up wants that to be apparent, wants everyone to know where each of us is staying.

    However happy I am now, my thoughts are back to what I’ve seen since coming here. The foyer, nothing special but a lounge just off of that, an old lady was in there for a long time, I only glanced at her from the corner of my eye upon entering this cruddy motel. Angela Goodwill.

    I must have been one of the first few here then because only now do I hear commotion, that or everyone took their time reading over the files. A shower is running by someone further down the hall. Other noises that make this seem like a school field trip, but what kind of field trip magically transports us?

    “Irrelevant for the time being.”

    “Quite,” I answer my blue bird whose voice is muffled by my pocket.

    Grabbing the folders, I slide the photos out. I’ve already know who everyone is by these, but it’s superficial, I need to meet everyone, even with the little information now, I have a good idea of how everyone will act.

    My steps taking me to the door, I open it as the hinges squeak and grad on my ears, like when you slide your knife across a plate. Those irritating noises that rub you the wrong way. Locking my door behind me I place the key back in my pocket and take a look around, only quick glances but what holds my stare is that man, Fluaw. He walks away from his door quickly and pulls a key from another’s door. Making sure to not draw attention to myself I act as though I’m walking down the hall when a thud comes and shortly after Fluaw speaks—only looking over my shoulder I listen. “Everyone, I would like you to gather somewhere in the dining hall... Wherever that is. It seems to me that before we figure this out, we should get to know each other or at least introduce each other.” This is followed by laughter as I use this time to think out loud.

    “Fat chance,” I spit, ignoring what Fluaw said.

    “Wait, go confront the owner of that key.”

    “No point to, no one is friendly…”

    “Remember, each key matches the order of the folders, that door Fluaw was just at belongs to the photographer, someone useful.”

    Damn, the blue bird is right. A photographer, someone that can record and document what is going on here. Not that she’d by into that, but maybe some persuasion and I can get her to listen while also taking information, if she turns out the be the murderer it would be easy to kill her…

    “Do you really want to be a murder?”

    “Ethics aside I think we have no choice.”


    Continuing my walk away from the scene and some guy who fell down, I wait till Fluaw is gone from the hall before walking back to room 6, I hear some breathing and I get the sense she’s close to the door. I don’t know what it is about me, but I feel the need to make sure no woman comes in harm way, even if I could of possible been the one who kill Cassandra.

    “I’ll be quick, I don’t know what’s going on, I’m sure you don’t know either. I’m from room 3 but Fluaw took your key, be wary of him, of everyone.”

    Whether she heard or not, whether I’m right to presume that the folders where in order the same our keys where it’s all pointless without further information, but, Fluaw does seem to be the first to get kill here, might as well go speak to the son of a bitch and see if he has any information.

    “It’s a bad idea.”

    “Don’t you think I know that?” I question my little friend as I walk away from Myra’s door, making sure that I spoke with out any other names in case she hasn’t figured out the key code.

    Following Fluaw even though I’m a few steps behind I hear silverware at some point before entering a room that has a few table within, each seemingly able to seat four around perfectly.

    Does the host…that Butler want us to form groups, what us to fight? What a cruel bastard.

    But my attention is drawn to the man in the mask and I almost laugh as I see that this guy has taken one of the shabby folding chairs and has sat it onto of the table where he is now sitting and watching the entrance. He’s noticed me of course and I speak to the guy, the one I feel is most likely the murder.

    “Fluaw, you seem to be eccentric. Well then, mind sharing with me your thoughts on what is happening here before the others come?” I don’t like that I asked him outright but I need something more to go on, something to tell me I’m going in the right direction to solving this flat out and clearing my own name as well as the others who are here. “Lastly, did you kill Cassandra?” I point at him, disregarding my previous statement about none of us knowing if we actually did the feat. Depending on his reaction maybe I can tell.
     
    #17 Moe, May 31, 2016
    Last edited: Jun 2, 2016
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  18. Ravok

    Ravok ~Hoping he will get a reply soon

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    Fluaw noticed the man following him and expected an attack in his back the whole time, but as he sat on the table the man asked him what is on his thoughts where and fluaw just says what: "I dunno, all that i know is that we are stuck and there are set rules. I just came out of prison and dont feel like going back there soon so i dont see any use in random people dying." He takes the key of the photographer out of his pocket, shows it to Marcus and says:

    "I took this from that photographers door, she forgot to grab it from the door when she closed it behind her. I dont plan on keeping this and giving it back as soon as she arrives here, just wanted to prove a point i guess. The first rule we are presented with is that there is a murderer in this house and what does she do? She leaves her key in the door. The first thing she does is make a fatal mistake. I hear that some people think its kill or be killed, but that isnt true at all. Only one of us might be planning to actually kill, the rule here is Be alert or Be killed. Rule number two, non are to be trusted." As he finishes his story marcus asks him if He killed cassandra and he quickly responds: "No, by the time that happened i was in jail." A burst of laughter comes out "Sorry, but i am not out to kill anyone but im not out to get killed either" Fluaw shows the knife in his jacket
     
  19. Kakuri

    Kakuri The Disappointment
    Gold Founder

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    - Nishida Kazuhiko -
    Growing tired of reading last week's news, Kazuhiko folded up the newspaper he was holding and placed it back down on the coffee table with a sigh. The chair he was sitting in wasn't particularly comfortable either, so he stood up and scanned the lobby one more time. He heard some chatter in the room next door which he believed to be a dining room, and was considering entering when his sight landed on the reception desk sitting in the corner of the lobby. 'This could definitely be worth a look. And that Butler doesn't seem to be here right now.'

    Kazuhiko made his way over to the desk and went into the area where the staff would be seated, if there were any. His eyes drifted over various documents that lay on the surface. Financial papers, to-do lists, even a birthday card for an employee. It seemed like this was once a perfectly average motel. 'Was' being the prominent word.

    The workstation he was searching seemed to have belonged to a woman named Lucy, judging by the name in the birthday card and the many personal items scattered around. Kazuhiko pulled open a drawer that was built into the employee's desk and found a variety of items. Most obvious was a large amount of office-like equipment, including several pens, which Kazuhiko decided to take some of, and a small notepad which fit snuggly into his top pocket. Underneath all this was what looked like a rusty metal ring. Kazuhiko pulled it out of the drawer and heard the distinct 'cling' of keys. It seems this woman had access to several of the motel's doors, particularly the entrances and exits. Nothing too useful, like keys for guest rooms or any kind of office, but the keyring would be good to hold onto for the time being. Kazuhiko glanced around the empty lobby as he slipped the keys into his pocket.

    He then turned his attention to the room that he could still hear a conversation coming from. Kazuhiko pushed open the door and saw two men talking in a room filled with tables and chairs. It was clearly some kind of dining area. There was a buffet table over by the far wall, but no food was laid out upon it. It didn't seem as if the men had immediately noticed Kazuhiko, so he slipped in quietly and leaned against the wall, watching to see what they would do next.
     
    #19 Kakuri, May 31, 2016
    Last edited: May 31, 2016
  20. Kerberos

    Kerberos genki moe blob
    Staff Member Moderator

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    -Frederick Stanton Colquehoun-
    Frederick Stanton Colquehoun stood there, all alone in the pitchblack of night, staring at this strange old man clad in a butler uniform. In the distance he could hear the rustling of leaves on a soft breeze. He deduced that he must be in a forsested area. Though ths wouldn’t help him much since most of the US was at least populated with some sort of vegetation. From the pine trees of Oregon to the cypresses of his native Louisiana. Well at least he could rule out Nevada for whatever that was worth.

    He looked at the butler again, realy observing him this time. Trying to assess how best to engage this man. He seemed to be somewhat elderly yet the tight fitting butler uniform betrayed a very muscled physique and his pose was somewhat intimidating. All of which pointed to the fact that this certainly was no frail old man. Ex-military perhaps? Military pensions weren’t much these days so maybe he could play the financial angle. But then instinctively he felt this wasn’t the sort of person to be interested in money. Maybe he could speak to his sense of patriotism. After all the Colquehouns had done a great deal for this nation in the past. Though on the other hand their military accomplishments were fairly limited. Colquehoun realized there was simply no way he could persuade the butler to let him go. But then what was the alternative? Threat? If anything this man looked like he would not take well to threats at all. If he was indeed ex-military as Colquehoun strongly suspected that would mean he didn’t value his life a great deal in the first place.

    Then in the blink of an eye he suddenly noticed something on the butler’s right hand: a wedding ring! A wedding ring means a wife. Someone he cares for. And those you care for are the ones that make you weak in the face of your enemies. Colquehoun had learned that at an early age. Colquehoun rejoiced, he had found this man’s weak point and he would prod that weak point with everyhting he had.

    With renewed confidence he slowly advanced towards the butler. Measuring every step, making sure that his pace came across as if he was in complete control of the situation. He stopped barely five feet away from the butler and struck an intimdiating pose himself, staring the man right in the eyes. With a calm yet stern voice he said:

    “Look this has obviously been a misunderstanding. I have no interest in playing your game nor will I at any point in the future. I hope I made that clear and that now you will let me leave. Because if you don’t I will have my men find out exactly who you are and where you live. And at some point, not long from now, I guarantee you that, a group of men will enter your house and these men will kill your wife very slowly and very painfully while you are forced to watch her die without being able to do a single thing about it.”

    He looked at the butler, waiting for a reaction. None came. He tried to assess his reasoning at this point. His pose hadn’t changed nor the expression on his face. Yet somewhere deep inside, something must have begun to brew. He could almost sense what the butler was thinking right now. Is he bluffing? Could he really be willing to go that far? It was time to show this butler guy Frederick Stanton Colquehoun meant business. He advanced on the butler a little more standing less than two feet away from him. The expression on Colquehoun’s face hardened as his hard eyes stared right into the butler’s as if they were trying to gauge the depth of his soul.

    “I don’t think I was quite specific enough. Let me rephrase. A group of three men will enter your house. They will first grab you, lift you off your bed and tie you up. I advise you not to struggle since they are under no obligation to do so without taking a few limbs during the process. Then afterwards the first of these three men will shoot your wife in the face with a 22 millimeter pistol. Not exactly deadly but very painful and leaving very gruesome results. The second man will then slash the tendons of your wife's ankles. Leaving her completely crippled. Shall I go on?”

    In the blink of an eye the butler’s left hand flashed forward and his fist slammed into Colquehoun’s stomach. A sharp pain shot through Colquehoun’s entire body and for a few seconds a bright red haze blinded him completely. Directly thereafter he began to feel this terrible sense of nausea and instantly plummeted to the ground. Writhing in pain on the cold grass as he puked his guts out.

    For the first time panic started to rise deep inside him. This was not good. There was no way he could ever convince this man to let him go. He had to get out of here and fast! But how could he get away with the butler standing there towering over him like a sword of Damocles, ready to crush his hopes of getting away from this living hell at any instant.

    He slowly rose to his feet, still hunched over from the massive blow he had taken. What a sore sight he must be to look at. His panic was immediately replaced by anger. Who was this man who dared to humiliate him? Him! Frederick Stanton Colquehoun! He would make him pay for all he had done. Not now maybe but one day this butler guy would have pay dearly for making the biggest mistake of his life. Thinking he could trifle with Frederick Stanton Colquehoun!

    With his burning rage also came a sudden surge of energy and Colquehoun managed to stand upright again. He turned to face the butler but what he saw took all of his renewed conviction away in an instant! The butler was still standing there but had now produced a small stungun which he trained directly at Colquhoun’s chest.

    Before Colquehoun was able to say another word the butler pulled the trigger and Colquehoun felt a burning pain surging through his entire body. He screamed in agony before darkness finally enveloped him.
     
    #20 Kerberos, May 31, 2016
    Last edited: May 31, 2016
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