Restless Nightmare- a Hermitcraft Murder Mystery

Chapter 50

She crept out of her hiding spot, examining the area, half expecting a jumpscare. But there was no one in sight.

She could see the shed in the distance, it's door slightly cracked open. Stress silently hoped neither False or Ren were awake, already knowing Bdubs was in a deep sleep.

She quietly approached it, reaching for the handle before pausing in doubt.

Quickly reassuring herself, Stress opened the door, quickly regretting it by the insanely loud creaking.

Inside the dark room were Ren and Bdubs. False wasn't there.

Stress stood there, zoning out for a moment as she stared at the two.

She couldn't kill Bdubs just like that! It wouldn't be fair for him to be gone first, because what if he was innocent all along?

And what if he wasn't?

"Stress? Is that you?"

Bdubs sat up, rubbing his eyes, a bit confused of the situation.

Stress snapped out of her thoughts, and was caught off guard when she noticed her target was awake, staring at her.

Her dazzled expression soon faded away into a smirk.

"Yeah. It's me."

Her simple answer confused Bdubs for a moment, before he realized something.

"Am I dreaming? Oh my god, I've never had a lucid dream, this is so cool!"

"Hun, I wish we were dreaming. But unfortunately, this is reality."

She paused.

"Unfortunately for you."

She watched as his excitement faded, which is when she raised the gun. He stared with wide eyes, unable to react.

"Sweet dreams, darling."

She chuckled before finally firing the bullet.

Twice.

"My work here is done." She muttered under the rain, skipping to the picnic table where she shoved the gun back into her backpack, a bit too energetically.

She then entered her tent, where Cleo, Keralis, and Xisuma were fast asleep. Removing her sweater and scarf, Stress watched the three as they slept. She giggled to herself before snuggling under the covers.

Well, Bdubs was dead.

And did she regret it?

No.

Watching his lifeless body bleed, knowing one of the fifteen was already eliminated, shouldn't have been so exciting for Stress.

But it was.

She suddenly remembered something and shot up from the blanket, crawling over to grab her backpack. She pulled out the silver pistol.

No one was about to find it again. Stress tucked it in the water bottle slot, under a few towels.

She then put it back in its place and sunk right back under the covers, where it was warm.

"Two down, thirteen more to go."