Roblox Flicker - Act Two

5 - A Fulfilled Prediction

John felt a gentle grasp on his forearm, the pressure guiding him back into the present moment. Placing his opposite hand on top, he'd turn his head, facing Liling, their eyes gazing, almost ominously, into each other. John's stoic, cold gaze hardened. His unforgettable, statue-like features casting down toward her. He cupped one side of her delicate face, his cold hands stinging her porcelain skin. Not speaking a word, it was almost as though they could read each other's expressions in the same way of familiar works of fine literature. They felt held by each other, they felt home. Though, in a way, none of this felt romantic at all. John only felt intent to win with her, carry her through to the very end as she felt like the only participant worth saving.
Everyone else was rather brain dead, lacking the wits to bring themselves survival. And John, well, John was the one to prove them that very fact in the moment of their last painful breaths they will ever release.

The crowd dispersed, it would be silent for a moment. A rare moment one could only savour in the setting of a killing game. Intended comfort, though only eerie, the silence would bring the participants to not help but feel tense. The house no longer had the familiar, though surreal sense of warmth and welcome that it brought at the beginning. A small conversation sparked, as the death game peers had, eerily automatically, come to realisation of the awkwardness formed. Casual conversations, they were, but they were all desperate forms of distraction from the horrid reality of the game everyone seemed to avoid. John glanced to his side, seeing Liling saunter off to the crowd, menacingly pursuing her. He pocketed his hands, accompanying her yet again and staying at her side, listening to the conversations.

"There technically isn't a rule saying you can't force someone to read their journal." Zahrah would be saying to another participant. Observing his body language, John noticed he was afraid of Zahrah's demanding tone.

"I'm the psychic, I told you!" He argued, shaking his head at Zahrah. "A good leader should have faith in her people!"

"Nave, you're clearly hidi-"

"Zahrah," John began, severely - not a ring of kindness in his tone, "you always manage to stir up some form of argument in our free time. Have you ever considered giving us peace?"

Zahrah drew a hand to her chest, trembling at his ominous tone. Minji quickly came to her, looking between her greatest friend, and John. A light rouge brightened her cheeks, as John's stern gaze shifted toward her. Minji could not take her eyes away, she gulped her words, deciding not to speak, though she planned on it.

As she opened her mouth to speak, the lights went out. The startled gasps of the participants echoed around the room, as they scurried off to safety for the night. John distanced himself from everybody, waiting for a moment. Once it was all silent and not a flicker of light illuminated the home, he guided himself into the solitary room to prepare himself for the night. Grunting, he took off his coat, revealing his stained clothing beneath. He drew out his blade and carried a lantern in his spare hand. An urge rushed through his veins, as he automatically exited the room, finding himself someone below his feet, resting in the kitchen. He placed his lantern down and lifted the resting individual up, holding them as their back would rest into his chest. They started to shuffle, waking up, frantically realising their position. As they began to hyperventilate and turn their head around, then looking up to see John. As their neck was bared, John held his blade against it, slitting it, digging deep into their pharynx. Blood poured out, as they began wailing and releasing ear-piercing shrieks as they quickly began to pass. Midst their screaming, John threw them onto the tiles, placing his foot on their chest. He grabbed a lighter from the kitchen counter, and would light their clothing on fire. He lit several spots, as burns forming all over and illuminating the victim. The ablaze body would deliver light through the portion of the room.

Hearing footsteps behind him, and a light touch to the shoulder, John swung his body around, lifting his blade. In the instant, his blade had been impaled into the stranger's head, feeling them hold onto his torso, yelling out. Looking down at them, his eyes widened and his grip on blade dropped as it came into realisation on who it was who he had just thrusted his blade into. A prediction fulfilled; Minji. Her grip onto him became weak, she slid out of it, releasing herself from him and throwing herself against the wall. She slid along the wall, a trail of malicious red liquid following her downward. Her breathing gained weight, as she struggled on every breath. Looking up at John through the minimal light, she shook her head vigorously, as even she could feel her body shutting down.

Ominously eyeing her down as she slowly approached death, John's placid expression remained unchanging. Approaching closer to her, he could hear her desperate whispers for him to leave her alone. Only continuing to pursue, he placed his foot on her stomach, digging in. He caresses her face, menacingly brushing his knuckles against her cheeks, mercilessly gazing into her eyes. She was barely able to hold on, and as she was to be rested peacefully, John would suddenly force her neck behind her, snapping it. He kicked the rest of her body down, causing fluids to escape from her struggling form. He yanked his blade out of her, cleaning it against her shirt. As he finished this, the fire of his previous victim had extinguished, giving him the perfect time.

He would pace past his two victims, stepping over the sleeping survivors. He tried not to wake them. Though, he would find Liling. Gazing down at her, he noticed her trembling as the room became frigid, the same stench of decay lingering the air, which was only to become stronger. He would take her coat, which was set aside, and kneel closer, covering her. He brushed his hand through her hair, thinking for a moment. Bidding her a temporary farewell, he kissed the top of her head goodnight and would return to the solitary room. He would put out his lantern and put his own coat back on. He hid his evidence within the bag he brought. He took the rest of the outage to rest, until loud static would awaken him.