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FINAL PART ON LE TUESDAY; NO REWARDED UPDATES THIS TIME

Playful was exhausted and having a mental breakdown. She’d literally been informed that there was a murder that’d happened, and that she couldn’t stop it. Not to mention that the restaurant’s manager was really mysterious with his words.

Sometimes she just wished she’d be able to see her boyfriend, and that she could crumble. But she couldn’t. This was her Town, that she had to protect.

Hawaiian closed the conference door behind them, and locked it. “All right. If any of you guys are alive, you’ll want to listen to this.” Playful couldn’t help but smile at Zed’s posture. He’d fallen asleep again. The sleep deprivation seemed to have built up within him, and was finally letting loose. “I was busy searching at the Mayor’s house, when I discovered this letter.” He threw the letter down on the table. It appeared to have ink splattered over it, and was properly written in the Mayor’s usual handwriting.

“This letter apparently was found in her drawer, and seems to be the most recent one. The timestamp marks that this was most likely written right before she was murdered, meaning that she was hiding information.” Addfire suddenly seemed to catch on.

“So you’re saying this letter could’ve contained information about the murderer?”

“Yes, and the murderer most likely tried to cover up the incident with ink.”

Playful squinted at the paper. “This ink looks fairly fresh, if you ask me.”

“Well, it’s only been 8 hours since Yami was found dead, so it doesn’t fall too bad.”

Spicy poked Zed with the now empty mug. “Question. We have this letter, but how are we supposed to find out what was written in it?”

“Ah, well we have the H-Scanner, don’t we? Tracks history and changes to all articles and books.”

Addfire’s face was pure scepticism. “That also tracks letters that aren’t registered within the library, and that may have been vandalized to the point of brokenness?”

“Yep.”

Spicy coughed. “All right, we’ll insert that then.” He got up to take the letter, and put it in. “Why is this damn thing not working?”

“Ah, for these articles? You gotta have Adminship Recognition.” Hawaiian put his finger on the touch sensor, and the H-Scanner started to work on the letter.

“Hmph.” Spicy looked on with a face of grudge. “Anyways, the reason why me and Playful came was because of the fact that we found suspicious activity. You know the Chinese place over by the south end?”

“The one that had a fire three months ago? Yeah, I remember. The food there is pretty average, let’s be honest. The Baker on the other hand…”

“Thanks, Addfire. Anyways, we found out there was a mass purchase approximately a week ago. So we interrogated the manager for information, and we managed to formulate a transcript just in time for this meeting.” He laid out a transcript of the questions they’d asked, and the answers they got.

Of course, Playful was careful enough to keep her own transcript, as the manager had leaked other information while Spicy had gone to the bathroom. She coughed. “Herm, yeah. This transcript basically says that the customer had brought various grains, meats, pasta, vegetables, etc.”

Zed managed to wake up at this moment. “Heeey guys. Wheere are we?”

“Zed, tell us the similarity between…sushi, long spaghetti, and bacon.”

“Agh, all of the ones purchased here have large amounts of- ahh- preservatives.”

Playful’s eyes bulged. “Zed, why would you know that? Never mind, he’s asleep again,” she sighed. “So can we assume that the food was brought by a person who was aiming to survive on these foods, and most likely is preparing for some apocalyptic stuff to happen?”

“Yes.”

“Well, great.” Spicy stood up. “We got some other clues as to who the customer is, too. They apparently were cloaked in a black robe, from head to toe. The only part not covered were the eyes, and there was sunglasses over that too.” For some reason, Spicy’s red eyes were veering towards Haw’s direction.

And he didn’t like it a single bit.

Well, all Playful hoped was that they’d find the killer quickly enough.


Zed felt he was gonna die in his sleep.

He’d worked the night shift literally revising every single article, head to toe again, and he also had to make sure the newspaper was published well. And now that he was notified that fucking Yami died, and that Rex was wasted (and killed), the stress took him the worst way possible.

Sleep.

He was half-listening to the conversations, and tired as hell. He couldn’t help but remember the times he wasn’t even a revealed Sheriff, and how he would work 72 hours straight a shift, for an entire month. It got worse after being promoted to library staff, “Content Moderator.” Whatever.

He had been wasted for a whole week after that.

But now? Zed wanted to be awake. He didn’t want to sleep.

“Aggggh. Sup guys. S’it evenin’?”

Addfire gave him an odd look (or he guessed; he was sleeping after all). “Zed, we’ve been here for only an hour.”

“Agggggh.” Great, now he felt as wasted as a Rexenator was. Suddenly, he heard a phone ring.

“Sorry, guys. Hold up, lemme take this call.” Zed heard a door close, and muffled talking outside of the room.

“I wanna diieeee.”

“Great to meet you too, Zed,” said Addfire. Zed’s brain was fairly sleepy, and probably needed meds. Or drugs. He didn’t care at this point. He knew he should be doing actually important stuff, and that he shouldn’t be killing himself with it, but he would always forget those principles when he started to work.

“Um…guys? How had Desert not arrived at all,” asked Playful. “He’d usually try to find people as soon as possible.

“Spicy, go check up on Desert.” The Disguiser appeared to have a hint of concern in her voice.

Zed opened his eyes. The skeleton had his shades up, showing those red (and surprisingly intimidating) eyes of his. “I’ll go find him.” And with that, the skeleton teleported out of the room.

“Oh hey. The scanner’s finished.” Addfire went to go see the readings. “Hmm. Something about a book and a prophecy. Huh? ‘The Town will perish in its own ashes?’” Zed suddenly jumpstarted.

“Ashes? That means fire, and…VENERA.” The Sheriff was finally awake, and onto something.

“Yeah! It all lines up! Venera’s most certainly the murderer, they haven’t been seen out of their house for the past week! They must’ve brought that food, and snuck over to Yami’s house and murdered her! Yami didn’t return the Chat Moderator duty to her, and so that’s why!”

Spicy suddenly popped back. “Huh? We’re saying it’s Venera?”

“Well, yeah.”

Spicy laughed. “I don’t think so, guys. I think the murderer’s already been played. You wanna know where Desert is?”

Spicy’s eyelights suddenly blazed with red light. A grin was plastered onto his face. “He’s dead.”


Hawaiian’s face lost its colour after Vert told him the tragedy. Now all the Janitor could do, is watch his superior Mafia brother say the word “fuck” over and over, while pacing back and forth, and holding his head.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! What the hell am I supposed to do?”

“You know, I’m kinda worried for you, Hawaiian. The fact that—”

“I’m calm, you son of a bitch! Just leave me alone for a while.” Hawaiian sighed. “I need to pray.”

And so while Hawaiian prayed, Vertroyer waited. He spun his mop around, one end sharp and the other bloody. God, he loved and hated his job at the same time.

“—amen. Alright, Vert. Show me where my brother got murdered.”

Vertroyer tensed. “You know, you’re acting surprisingly calm for the fact that your bestie got killed.”

“He was a brother to me. And of course I have to act calm. I’m an Admin. Hell, if I was one of you lowly moderators-”

“Hey, who you callin’ lowly?”

“—I would bawl my eyes out right now. The stress is keeping me sane, you know that? Now me, Octo and Uli are the only remaining leaders in this Town. And I know for a fact that old Octo would take any opportunity to assert his leadership over Jim. Do you want that? Half the time the two brothers pull out their guns, and you have to clean the blood while I deal with Zed and Yami! It’s frustrating!”

“…Hawaiian, you better not be throwing a monologue at me. You know I hate Shakespeare.”

Hawaiian laughed bitterly. “Oh, art thou so angrily furious at my words? Mine eloquence? Well, let me tell you this. I. Cannot. Care anymore.” He entered Rex’s house, and Vertroyer was tempted to go in.

He didn’t.

He remembered the glory of the Mafia, where people would use to fear it, and how every morning, people would come to the middle of the Town to kill. Ah, that was when he was a wee little boo, not even understanding why people were getting murdered. But when he was recruited at the fresh age of 15…

He suddenly discovered how bloody unfair things were. The Town had a truly ugly past, and there was nothing interesting about it. That’s why he admired the Executioner; they killed for what they wanted.

But after two years ago, when the Town and Mafia made up, realizing their mistakes and such, they started building new grounds. The Town started to create a library, where people could look up unbiased (as he hoped) information of all the people. Meanwhile, the Mafia took charge of an old building nearby, and renovated it into a bar, a place where people could just, well.

Chill.

Yet sometimes, he felt a little pang of sorrow, the fact that the Mafia had decided to abandon what was previously there. Something wanted to spark in Vert’s heart.

And it tried.


Hawaiian was so dead inside.

After entering Rex’s house, his mind wandered to wherever Rex may be. But the body was nowhere to be found, only his clothes were left behind. Haw could see the blood on the bed, still fresh. The piece of bastard Vert was probably cleaned up the body.

Son of a bitch.

Haw took a deep breath, and started looking through the files Rex had. Unlike Yami, Rex never locked his cabinets, and so with ease, he opened the drawers. And what he saw was, well. Quite predictable.

Thousands of blank papers.

So many emotions were adding up, that Haw, for the first time in his life, couldn’t handle. He would never be able to forgive and make up with Rex after today in the bar, the constant reminder that the murderer was still out there, and, well…

something else.

Haw was regretting his decision.

“Are you sure that it was Desert?”

“I’m certain.” Spicy had been walking with the gang from out of the conference. They’d decided to go head over to Desert’s house, and then go to dinner together. It would be like a platonic double date. “I saw glass shattered on the ground, and I found one of his papers. Definitely suspicious.”

Zed, who was still recovering from sleepiness, yawned. “I still think they’re alive, and that Venera is the killer.”

“Trust me, it’s Desert. All the clues pointed towards him being the killer.”

“All right then,” sighed Playful. “Guys, just stay together, alright? We don’t want to lose someone out here.”

Addfire laughed. “We’ve already lost our fair share of people this week, Playful.”

“It’s not funny.”

“Alright, here we are.” Spicy opened the door to the supposed evil murderer. And what was inside? Well, nothing had changed really. Spicy had called Vert to dispose of the body, but leave everything else intact. Although, for some reason, Vert had said he had a request by someone else first.

Odd.

Anyways, the papers were still on the ground, bloody red from all the dripping on the ceiling. Playful screamed. “Is that Desert’s blood dripping off those thorns?”

Spicy grimaced. “Yep.”

“Oh my god oh my god I’m gonna puke I’m gonna puke,” and with that? Playful ran off. Now it was just the Fallen Investigator, Sheriff, and Disguiser left.

“Hmm. Glass shards, broken flasks; hold up. What is this paper doing on the ground?” Zed had noticed one of the papers that was much newer than the others. Somehow Spicy had managed to forget that. The two Investigatives looked at the paper.

“It’s torn. Can you recover it?”

Zed took a breath. “I wish. But the blood has run through this so badly, that I can’t even figure out where the edges meet.”

“…fuck.”

Addfire noticed something on the ceiling. “Hey, guys? Why is there writing near where the bloody thorns are?”

“Huh, never noticed that. Lemme get those thorns out of the way first, though.” Zed grabbed a nearby lighter, some oil, and flung it onto the thorns. Soon, all of them had burned away. “If I can make out the words…Desert…killer alive…what?”

“Guys, something new.” Spicy picked up a piece of paper that was left on the desk. It was certainly suspicious. “This is evidence to me, saying that Desert is the murderer!”

“But why mention Sondz?”

“That means…” Spicy gasped.

“What?”

“...never mind.” Spicy grimaced. “Just keep an eye on em.”

…they sat quietly in his house. They were looking through his library of books, a personal collection. A book dropped to the ground. The title read, “Darkest of Ruins”.

The book was opened. Words were read. Pages were flipped.

Smiling.

Laughter.

Chuckling.

The book dropped to the ground.

“…no need for this no more.”

The door opened, and closed once more.


Night had fallen.

Someone was running. They headed out of the gate, and their speed was phenomenal. No one could see them, as dark as the shadows of the fallen.

They were vanishing, disappearing out of existence and reappearing. Darkness was flowing through their veins.

Moonlight shown on them. A blue hue shone on the ground, and struck. One could hear the wild Werewolf howl, and it sent chills down one’s spine.

They made it to the Cliffside. They looked down, seeing a pool. A knife glinted in the night. A laugh shook through the valley, airy and exhausted.

The moss-covered rock beneath?

It was now stained red.

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