Roblox Flicker - Act Two

3 - A Turn

Anticipation ran through John's veins as he firmly gripped the doorknob. The sharp air created an unsettling aroma. Almost eerie for a home which a mass genocide has recently taken place. Not a scent of decay detected. The muffled sound of players immediately suspecting each other booked through the walls, though the game had only just started. Turning the doorknob slowly, John considered the mass of people he would be stuck with. He staggered into the main, infamous room of the battle ring - the murder home. The mob of people stood at several heights, though to his surprise, he towered over the majority. A sense of superiority became present, his dreadful urge to draw blood was a struggle to be ceased. He ran his pale hand through his hair, examining each of his victims. Each to their own had their own precious flaws. Flaws which John valued and would use against them. These strangers were just in his way - and they needed to move aside.

Pocketing his hands, John strutted closer to the crowd. His powerful, austere figure would be startling. The company of these people gave him a piercing sensation of insecurity. By second nature, he would stand over them, threatening. The current moment almost felt like a fever dream - if felt like it was not real. The house, the people, the role, the increasing doubt of survival was overwhelming everybody present, though John would not be phased. The feeling was almost familiar, though this experience was certainly a unique situation that he had never had the opportunity to participate in before. The crowd of people were a rowdy bunch, however a fair few would remain seated and completely silent as the chaos and impending doom unfolded. John's powerful, threatening presence caught the eye of the most obnoxious in particular, a girl, whom he towered over. Her mere existence was bothersome. She held a confused, though determined expression. The increasing urge to just impale her chest battled with the little good sense he had. She gave him a judgemental glare, though footsteps coming from behind her drew her gaze away from John. He took more interest in an individual behind her. She sat exactly the way a mobster would in a chair, with a black coat over her shoulders, guarding a prosperous white dress complimented with beads. She had a threatening demeanour. He realised that she would be the first for him to eliminate in order to inch closer to victory. A hand waved repeatedly past his eyes, the obnoxious girl was shouting for his attention. His vision focused onto her now, greeting her with a threatening glare.
"You're suspicious. You haven't even said a word!" Her tone was demanding, it was very powerful for an inferior woman. "I'm Zahrah, the Investigator. If I die tonight, you must be the murderer since you're threatened. I'm not accusing you, I'm just saying that." She puffed her chest, taking pride in her role which she risked revealing. She was given several gazes from across the home. John, too, was surprised by her boldness to reveal her role straight away. He knew better than to kill her. Zahrah wasn't aware that she revealed her role to the leader of the evil team, the true host of the killing game. Hopping down from the table, were two more people coming to approach John. A dark-haired woman and a blonde man. The man seemed to have a lot of the female participants around him.
"Zahrah, who's this guy?" The girl would ask, furrowing a brow at John. She had a gleam of fear in her eyes. "I'm Minji." She added quickly, stammering.
Zahrah opened her mouth to speak, but John would shove her aside, roughly. "I'm John."
"Yooo! John, is that you?" A voice would yell out, silencing the room. Everyone present would gaze to the source of the voice. John's dull expression would drop even further, immediately recognising the voice.
He clenched his jaw. "Vinny."
The so-despised man would push through the crowd, going right in front of John. "What's up, Mr. Happiness - life of the party?" He asked sarcastically, having an extremely mocking ring in his voice. "Still don't know what colours are, huh? That sucks, I feel bad for you, bro. Colour blindness would be horrible, eh?"
"Since when did you get a heart?"
Vinny went silent. He knew that John used his own flaw against him, and it was used in such a way to gain great advantage. The crowd giggled at his silence. The blonde man gave Vinny a pat on the shoulder.
"I can teach you how to comeback to a comeback if ya want." He suggested.
"Fuck off, Jean-Claude." Vinny growled. "Stupid ass woman magnet."
"Yeah, bro, don't remind me. I even got ya mum attracted."
Vinny gasped with several crowd members, John tried to contain his laughter. This Jean-Claude guy amused him. He would certainly help with keeping John's targets occupied.

As time passed, John was introduced to several new people. He knew the names of every participant, and they knew his. Person by person, he gained their trust. His scheme progressed the way he had planned, it was as though he was a sinister, clever-minded mastermind with a plan which was to only be excellently executed. He stood by the door to the solitary room, hands behind his back in a stern stance. His eyes darted across the room, giving an subtle ominous grin as no one would put their gaze upon him, all distracted with their own matters. All, but the menacing, prestigious woman which caught his attention before.
The unanticipated outage of power took all the participants by surprise, catching them all off guard. They'd sprawl around, panicking, until finally settling down without given assistance. Scared murmurs crept through the air, until silence took complete reign of the room. These murmurs danced through John's ears, excitement rose as his lust for blood followed. In the solitary room, he took off his coat and lit a candle with a match and put it in a given holder, to help himself navigate and find his victim. He held this low, to avoid illuminating his face and revealing his identity, to overall blow his cover. He'd pace across the house, the menacing, slow sound of his soles sending through a piercing, dreadful unease through the population of the room. Simply all the pawns of his cruel game. Humming lowly, the vibrations would only cause the awake victims to panic more.
A familiar figure was back-turned before him, standing idly still. He outstretched his candle further, the light illuminating them. A malicious intent washed through him, smirking. He set the candle down and grabbed the figure by the shoulders, forcefully shoving them down. They turned, countering and shoving him into a wall. Grunting, he picked up the candle to reveal both of their identities, pointing the knife's edge toward his victim. It would be no other than his ideal, the silent, prestigious woman herself. A haunting, relentless gaze would be presented to him, her gaze as still as one of a statue. A masterpiece you could never forget. This woman would be holding him at gunpoint as she stared, equipped with a simple, loaded pistol. Coming to realisation, John realised who she was. She lowered, and he would mimic.
"John," she'd start, with a hushed tone, "I know you're the murderer."
His expression shifted into a defensive, unforgiving glare.
"I'm not wasting my only chance of bloodshed on you." She'd whisper, inching closer to avoid being heard, leaning her head on his shoulder. Her shallow breath could be felt against his neck. "I'm your right hand. You lead the evil, and I serve beside you. I'm your closest ally. I'm the assassin, Liling."
Grunting, John nodded, placing his hand on her shoulder, patting it reassuringly. He would be grateful to have an ally to use at his dispose, it would only make it easier for him. "I'm glad, I'm glad." He whispered, raspy and coarse. "Go get some sleep, Liling, you look tired," a slight frown formed, perhaps of concern, "we'll chat later, I need to kill before the lights come back on."
Liling nodded, hiding her firearm back into her coat. "Yes, I will. Thank you." Easing off of him, she'd walk away, into the darkness of the night to rest. He'd then advance, looking for a replacement victim.
Below him, by his feet was Adanna, asleep. John lifted her into her knees, putting her into a chokehold and waking her up. He held his blade against her throat as she struggled, screaming out. Her shrieks were agonised, distressed sounds which echoed throughout the entire home. He slit her throat quickly, repeating this a few times I'm different areas, then proceeding to lift her onto her feat, forceful. He'd elbow the back of her head, crushing her skull against the dining table edge. He did this repeatedly, each time she tried to remain stable. Her bones pierced through her skin, muscle displaced and blood oozing out. She couldn't breathe, her gasps gaining rasp and panic. He'd continue throwing her into the table edge, gouging out her left eye. This would go on until Adanna breathed her last, collapsing face-up, for the grotesque sight to be seen by everyone when they gather.
Picking up his candle and weapon, John returned to the solitary room. He'd put his coat back on, ensuring his bloody clothing underneath were not seen. He cleaned his blade with the inside of it, hiding it back in his inner pocket. It was as though nothing happened at all. He'd blow out his candle and exit the solitary room, entering the living room to then sleep on the couch for the remains of the blackout, until the generator restores itself.