It's a Trivia Murder Party

Nathan

(Extra TW: Nathan)

"Oh noooo, I never guessed that would happen..."

I stare at that stupid wheel that Gabriella was forced to spin after being the sole person to get a question wrong.  The wheel has large, colorful slices labeled 'DEATH', and small white slivers separate each colorful slice.  Yes, those white slivers indicate her chances of survival.  Now that the wheel has stopped in the dead center of a death slice, though, her chances of survival are non-existent.

Sasha, who had remained relatively composed for a majority of the game as if that would really do anything besides make her look cool, is now a sobbing mess, begging for [REDACTED] to not kill Gabriella.  Gabriella is crying too, and the two girls are hugging as they both cry.  It annoys me how they didn't see this coming and are acting like they could've survived this together.  That's some stupid optimist bullsh*t right there.

I don't see how Gabriella dies, but I see the aftermath.  There's a green doll with a rope tied around its waist lying limply on the floor, its plush head somehow dented in.  And motionless next to it is Gabriella's lifeless body.  Sasha is still in tears, trying to fan at her face to get herself to calm down.  Her makeup is dripping down her face as she tries to steady her breathing.  She looks like she just got dumped right before Prom.  

So that's it.  It's just me against her.  A laser-focused brain versus a broken heart.  There's no doubt who wins here.

"One last question ought to do it.  What nut is used to make marzipan?  One, almonds, two, walnuts, three, cashews, or four, peanuts."

I don't think Sasha even heard him.  Even if she did know the answer, her board is blank as [REDACTED] announces that time is up.  I smugly display my board with the number one on it.

"Alright, this is a game called 'Memory'." [REDACTED] shows both of us a six-by-six wooden grid with blood smeared on some of the tiles. "Remember as much of the pattern as you can.  You-" he points at me- "are playing too.  If you do better than her, she dies."

Sounds easy enough.

My memory is excellent, if I do say so myself.  So when [REDACTED] flips the board over and tells us to recreate the grid on our whiteboards, I easily find where to shade in the tiles.  And needless to say, Sasha couldn't remember half of it.  I suppose I'm doing her a favor by putting her out of her misery.  

All I hear is a sickening snap, and Sasha drops to the ground.  I look at [REDACTED], who holds a one-eyed purple doll in his hands, the doll's neck twisted all the way around.  He uses a needle to hold the twisted neck in place, and blood begins to drop from Sasha's neck.  The doll is then carelessly tossed next to her body.

"Nathan.  Take a walk with me." [REDACTED] gestures for me to follow him.  Caught off-guard by him using my name, I oblige, feeling a surge of pride as I walk alongside him down the hallway.  It's only me and him.

"You did it.  You're the only one left alive," the serial killer says.

"I am," I nod.

"Of course, that doesn't mean you've won yet."

"I- what?" I stop in my tracks.

"Welcome to the final round, Nathan.  I hope you haven't wasted your trivia-solving skills just yet." [REDACTED] snaps his fingers, and I'm now able to see that at the end of the long, dark hallway is a single wooden door marked 'EXIT'.  

"Here's the deal.  I'm going to be giving you a category as well as two answer choices.  Select all the choices that fit the category and write them on your whiteboard.  You get to move forward a space for every correct answer." [REDACTED] taps his foot on the ground, and I see that the floor has large tiles that I assume represent spaces.