Baby post~~~~~

Day two, part two

“I don’t know what scared me more, Soren dangling from the ceiling or that note from the murderer,” admitted Jwyn.

“My gosh, yes! And the way Simul was just like ‘we gonna die!’” agreed Quill.

“But there’s nothing we can do about it!” cried Leeli. Jwyn, Quill, Leeli, Autumn Artist, Viola?, and Marigold were sitting in a circle, legs crossed and feet bouncing up and down, quietly discussing the events of earlier that day in an empty living room they had found. The place was eerie and dusty, and they couldn’t find any lights, so all they could do was stare at each others’ shadowy, grey figures as they confessed their fears.

“How will we even go about our days knowing that one of our friends could be a murderer?” asked Marigold.

“And how don’t I know that none of you guys are the murderer?” Leeli questioned slowly.

“Yeah? And how do we know you’re not the murderer, Leeli?” Autumn Artist shot back.

“...It could be any of us,” Viola? Realized. “Gosh, I’m going to have major trust issues from now on.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” commented Jwyn. The CBettes sat in silence for a few minutes.

“How will this vacation go? I mean, will we even be able to have fun with all of our friends dying?” asked Autumn.

Nobody knew the answer.

~~~~~~~~~~

The hours dragged on, like they hadn’t gotten enough sleep and were just about ready to pass out while they were at work. They looked on at their job ahead and groaned, not wanting to continue. Yet they did, in the slowest, most lethargic manner that drove all of the guests almost insane.

Throughout most of the day, the castle was silent and still, with its occupants quiet and inactive. Even during lunch, people were quiet, their own thoughts louder than all of the other guests combined.

Simul Stoicheio watched all of this nervously. What kind of hostess was she if all of her charges were miserable and awaiting another friend to be snatched from their midst the whole time? But, to her dismay, she had no idea how to cheer them up.

“Hey, do y’all want some dessert?” she called in mock cheerfulness once all of the guests had finished lunch and were sitting around with their eyes glazed over and chins sitting in their hands. She took their silence as a ‘yes’.

She waved her hand elaborately, as though she was acting in an over-the-top television show.  A feast of brownies, cakes, puddings, cookies, and random marshmallows pushed itself into existence. This, at least, stirred some of them. Still, the air was thick enough to suffocate, and no-one wanted to break through it, for fear of being able to breathe again (they wouldn’t know what to do if they could).

“This is dumb,” declared Nymph after an eternity of silence.

“What’s dumb? Life?” Leafy asked lazily. “I agree with you there.”

“No. Just how we’re sitting around waiting for something else awful to happen,” corrected Nymph.

And she was right. They all knew it, they just didn’t say it out loud.

“Attention, all guests to Magicae Palace!” Simul’s voice boomed throughout the castle by some magical means, like there was an intercom set up through the whole place (there wasn’t). “Your elemental lessons will begin in exactly six minutes and… twenty-seven seconds. Twenty-six seconds… anywhoo! The lessons will take place in an open room three doors to the right of whichever dormitory you have. Have fun and don’t die!”

Simul immediately regretted the ‘don’t die’ comment after saying it. She had forgotten about the incident from earlier. She knew that, now, no-one would take it as a joke.

“Ah, well,” she sighed. “Maybe they’ll forget about it once they start lessons.”

Luckily, they did.

Each class focused on two things: how to create that element and how to control that element. The classrooms were decorated as the dorms were; color themes, objects associated with that element.

The life classroom was very lively and stuffy- the room, which was already painted green, was filled to the bursting with flower pots and full, lush green plants with leaves bursting out of their pots. The whole room was steamy and cluttered.

The Earth classroom, on the other hand, was sparse and dark, with a grey-and-black theme going for it.  The windows were closed, the only source of light being a forlorn, battered lamp in the corner. The air was stiff and cold, like no-one had breathed in that room since the nineteen hundreds.

The air classroom was empty as well, but it had a more cheery, friendly vibe then the earth room. It was painted a pleasant shade of sky blue, and all of the many windows were open. A chilly breeze tickled the air.

The fire room had a black-and-red theme. It was well-lit, but the pitch black hues seemed to dim the light. All of the furniture was covered in a plastic material to fireproof it, and a number of candles and bags of marshmallows were strewn lazily about the place.

The water room was painted a darker shade of blue with lighted bands in waves, so it looked like the occupants were under water, and a humongous stack of towels perched atop a desk. Various empty bottles, buckets, and even small aquariums adorned all of the desks and tables.

All of the guests filed into their respective classrooms, whispering to each other and commenting on the strange decorations. And among them was the murderer, their mind going through the list of attendees, wondering who would go next…

In unison, as though they all had telepathy, the elemental instructors clapped their hands together, signaling the beginning of magic lessons.  

@Mice, oh, thank you! Thanks for popping in as well.

@Leafpool, good point, but even if the murderer did that, everyone would know they were in air, so not the smartest move. 

Hey, I got this one out in a reasonable amount of time!

Day two, part three

While lessons were in session, Simul found time to worry about what she had discovered- who the murderer was. Because Simul knew that something had gone seriously wrong. She knew what was at stake because of this situation. She paced around her private living quarters, muttering to herself in Latin (nervous habit of hers).

As if she wasn’t already panicked enough, her stress level shot right through the roof when, out of the corner of her eye, Simul saw a letter on her desk addressed to her. She nearly screamed the very same blood curdling screech she emitted earlier that day when she saw it was signed, nonchalantly as you please, This round’s Murderer.

With a shaking hand, she ran a finger down the sealed part of the envelope, and took the letter. Her golden eyes got wider and wider as she read until they were big as dinner plates.

From what Simul could tell, the murderer’s intelligence stretched far and wide- too far, too wide. If they slipped… everyone’s very existence would be in danger. Simul also gathered that the murderer knew that part as well, but Simul was still concerned about the number of lives depending upon a murderer’s ability to keep secrets. Even so, something was already malfunctioning deep inside the workings of the ‘vacation’ itself.

Yes, there was only one option left… Simul had to talk to the murderer face-to-face. Make them fully understand the seriousness of the situation.

Simul groaned and slapped her hands over her face. “Omnia abiit iniuriam. Haec visio nocturna!” she cried in Latin. Everything went wrong. This is a nightmare!

And then, because she understood how much more the murderer’s note meant, Simul gathered all of the guests’ weapons and placed them at the dining hall entrance with a quite shocking note of her own.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright everyone,”  Aqua called nervously, feeling strange in his position as an instructor. “Welcome to water lessons.

“Here, you’re going to learn how to make water and contort it to your wishes, as though it’s a solid. I’ll show you…”

He held out the palm of his hand. From the center of his hand came a steady stream of clear blue water. The liquid contorted itself to form a small sphere that grew as more water was added. Once Aqua stopped the stream, the sphere hung in midair, the water spinning around but the sphere hanging still. There were many gasps of astonishment from the water students. Aqua went slightly red, but appeared pleased with himself.

“Can we touch it?” Secret asked eagerly. Aqua looked taken aback, but agreed. Secret pressed her palm onto the sphere. “Whoooaaaaaaa,” she gaped- it was like putting your hand on the surface of the ocean and never feeling your fingers sink under. It was the most curious sensation, feeling the water pulsing under her fingers. Secret pulled her hand away- it was completely dry. The extraordinary sphere of physic-defying water was passed around the room as Secret continued to stare at her hand.

She couldn’t wait to see what else she could do with her magic.

Meanwhile, in the fire room, Ingus, eyebrows furrowed, transformed a candlestick into a pillar of red and orange flames, her fingers arched and quivering around the candle, which was suspended in midair. Then, to the great shock of her students, Ingus pulled her hands away and let the candle fall to the ground- it had resumed to its original form.

At the same time, Vita trapped himself in a cage of vines that he had pulled from the floor, Terra made a mountain in the middle of his classroom, and Caeli made a small tornado swirl in a figure eight.

After these performances, the instructors had thoroughly excited their pupils. However, they had to remind the guests that today was their first day- it was very unlikely that they would be able to produce such strong magic yet. Nonetheless, the Chatterboxers couldn’t wait to try.

In the life room, Vita instructed his students to make a small flower. Nothing more. He demonstrated with a short, pink petaled flower of his own from the palm of his hand. He then had to try very hard not to laugh at the expressions on the life student’s faces as they stared at their hands and willed a flower to grow from them. Many had their eyebrows furrowed, eyes three inches from the palms of their hands. Suddenly, Night Vision squeaked loudly, then cried, “Look!”

Caribbean looked up and let out a surprised and curious “Oooohhh!”. Night had procured a small stem that resembled a blade of grass rather than a growing flower.

“I can’t- make it- grow!” grunted Night, frustrated. Bean slumped back in a defeated sort of way.

“Don’t be disappointed,” Vita said, “the fact that you were able to get it at all is a big step in the right direction!” This didn’t erase the annoyed expression from Night’s face.

The guests weren’t having much better luck in the other classrooms- not a speck of dirt, a milliliter of water, a whisper of a wind, or so much as a tendril of smoke was produced. Thus left the Chatterboxers on a rather frustrated note as they departed from their classrooms.

Half an hour later, the murderer, hearing on high alert, prepared to fight at any sudden sound or movement, krept to the entrance hall, trekking silently on the cold stone bricks. They scrutinized the area before proceeding (they were going about this whole ‘murdering’ job in a very clever way). Once they were satisfied that the coast was clear, they snuck over to the entrance to the dining hall, where, to their delight, a messy pile of weapons lay. As they approached, a menacing smile threatening to escape onto their lips, they saw Simul’s note perched atop Caspian’s fencing sword. When the murderer saw that Simul knew their name, they knew it was serious.

They pocketed the note, gathered the weapons in their arms, and scurried back to an empty library to plot the demise of the other guests. 

Top! If you have any comments or theories, I'd love to hear them- things get very mysterious at this point.

Day two part four

The murderer sat in a wooden chair, surrounded by their fellow guests’ weapons, thinking about Simul’s note and how much pressure was on them. They hadn’t realized how much responsibility came with killing people.

In the back of their head, the voice that had been bugging them since the night when they were chosen as the murderer, hissed hungrily about how much fun it would be to harm the others. The murderer told the voice to shut up and save it for when someone was about to be killed.

Secretly, the murderer feared the voice, knowing it might bring the destruction of everybody that was currently wandering the castle. And the murderer feared the secrets they ha to keep, and how much of a risk it was for it to exist at all.

Suddenly, the murderer felt a rush of hatred for ski lodges, anger coursing through their veins like molten rock.

The evil voice in the back of their head fed on their anger, using it to motivate them to harm the others. Yes! Ski lodges do stink! Wouldn’t you like to make it more interesting? The voice whispered. It tugged at the murderer’s sleeve, demanding attention. And this time, the murderer gave it that attention.

Yes, they replied, yes! And now, I have the power sitting right in front of me! The two voices cackled together. The murderer never saw the other voice smiling smugly (partly because the voice had no body, but not the point).

The murderer’s hand snaked around the hilt of one of Far’s daggers in their sudden bloodthirsty attitude. Yes! This is what they were destined to do, for the sake of not only the ski lodge, but also their enjoyment. Morbid thoughts chased each other around as their eyes gleamed with hunger.

And then, Secret walked in, seeking a quiet place to enjoy her Percy Jackson. The murderer’s head shot up, and their eyes shot daggers at Secret. Secret jumped back in alarm, but she couldn’t scramble back out into the hallway before the murderer had thrown Far’s dagger at her.

Secret didn’t even have the time to scream before the sharp pain hit her in the dead center of her chest. She watched helplessly as a dark red stain seeped across the front of her shirt. She fell to the ground, then everything turned fuzzy, and then disappeared…

~~~~~~~~~~

Artimerrx sat on the floor along with Rogue, Gracia, and Dewy, playing Monopoly. Rogue jiggled the dice in her cupped hands, so the metallic clinking was muffled. She tossed them confidently across the board, landing on a three and a one. She descended upon her game piece, jumping it four spaces forward. Rogue groaned- she had landed on one of Artimerrx’s spaces.

“Ha! Pay up.” Rogue thrust a few paper bills at him, giving him the dirtiest look she could muster (which, on the contrary, was a fairly dirty look).

“My turn,” squaked Dewy. But as soon as her fingers closed around the dice, a piercing shout rang out, seeping into the group’s eardrums through the crack under the door. All four of them jumped, then scrambled up to see what had happened. They burst out of the door to see Catsclaw a yard or three to their right, looking at a lifeless Secret in horror. Gracia emitted a muffled shriek, Artimerrx cursed loudly, Dewy moaned in a terrible, pained way that made it sound as though her very soul was falling into pieces, and Rogue began to mutter in a wild, rather uncharacteristic way.

“I suppose, if we don’t catch the murderer, we’re going to get used to people dying,” mumbled Catsclaw. “Sounds pretty cruddy to me.”

And the worst part was, he was right. The way they sailed through the ski lodge, the guests got more and more accustomed to murder. The announcement of a friend dying became routine. The notes and tricks and games the murderer set up became regular. The hurt and shock wore off, almost like a solo write- it appears, people give it attention, notice it, comment on it. Then, after a time, it just sits, less new and interesting, until it gets neglected and dies.

Dies. Irony is cruel.

~~~~~~~~~~

The news of the latest death traveled fast and caused renewed panic, like a deadly disease creeping across a country. The murderer was certainly doing the job they had been so hesitant to do- they sat back and looked upon the terrified CBers with satisfaction and sneaky pleasure.

Little did the murderer know it, but they were just entering the most stressful, nerve-racking episode of their life. The road they had walked was one with many obstacles in their way and forks with no map to show them which way to go. Worst of all, it was dark and shady, but no-one could offer them a lantern to light the way.

Speaking of the murderer, they met with Simul, as she requested, at midnight in a hidden room. The room was dimly lit by a single torch, casting orange shadows around the small, cold room. Simul’s golden eyes glowed through the flickering darkness. The murderer prowled in a straight line, their eyes never leaving Simul’s.

“So. Other than to show me a very good hideout, why did you bring me here?” asked the murderer.

“Oh, you know why. I have to make sure you’re going to protect it. We both know you’re not supposed to be the murderer.”

“What went wrong?” questioned the murderer.

“I don’t know, it must have malfunctioned when it picked the murderer,” Simul admitted. “I’ve never known it to do that before. Been on the verge of destruction, yes, but malfunctioned? That’s a whole different matter.”

“What do Terra, Ingus and the others know about all of this?” asked the murderer.

“They honestly think I’ve just hired them to teach people how to do magic. They don’t even know that this is a ski lodge,” Simul informed them.

“Sounds like you have a big problem in your hands,” commented the murderer.

“And the worry about you keeping your trap shut doesn’t take any stress away,” snapped Simul Stoicheio. “I brought you here to remind you how disastrous it would be if you let out this secret. We’ve got be be careful.”

“Yes, I realize that. But don’t you see- I can’t stop it when it compels me to be… evil. I’m not using me own mind when I do awful stuff,” the murderer explained. “So, evil me might let something slip and I won’t know. Hopefully, the bad part will have enough sense to just kill them instead of just blabbing about the workings of a ski lodge.”

Simul pressed a long-nailed finger to her temple and rubbed it ferociously, taking deep breaths to keep from exploding. She sunk her other hand into the folds of her dress and pulled out a walkie-talkie, then held it out to the murderer.

“Take this. Use it if you need me.”

The murderer took it. “Okay. Though I’ve already heard your annoying voice enough right now.”

Simul let out an impatient huff. “Okay, well. Just hold your tongue, alright? I- I’m going to bed, this day sucked…”

“Great. You do that,” grumbled the murderer as Simul whisked past them.

“Oh, and thanks for the weapons,” the murderer called to her retreating back. Simul winced and said nothing.

As Simul sped-walked back to her room, unsure if she felt better or worse now, she was so busy fretting and spewing random Latin that she didn’t even notice one of the guests hiding in the shadows, having carefully overheard the whole conversation.

That guest was very, very confused. So befuddled, indeed, that they stumbled out after Simul and stood in the middle of the hallway- before the murderer had emerged from the hidden room.

So as the murderer slunk out of the hidden room and out onto the stretch of hallway where the entrance was located, that guest was standing there, practically asking for something bad to happen to them.

~~~~~~~~~~