-:-:- third person -:-:-
Eli. Eli fucking Clark refused to wait to die. He chose himself to not wait for the new hunters, survivors, maps, and other things to come in. He never got to see it. When he was still alive, they would always talk about how crowded the manor was, but he never got to see the mess it became.
Emily watches Xie from the dining tables she's setting for lunch. His bandaged up arms slam the knife down hard onto the cutting board, messy and way too hard. Afraid he'll end up hitting his fingers and cutting them off, she walks up to him, wrapping both arms around his waist from behind. He freezes up before speaking.
"Emily, my dear, you know what I've told you. The new survivors still see us as the enemy, and we were warned to keep it that way. Please..."
He stops, eyes watering. She squeezes tighter as he breathes hard.
"Please, don't make this any harder for me..."
Although she didn't want to believe it, he was right. The new survivors in the manor... they didn't even want to look at the hunters at this point. They're new, and maybe it's best to keep them like that. Everyone else has already been here forever, so there are groups and cliques. It wouldn't fit for them to be part of an already existing alliance. They'll learn to form their own among themselves eventually.
Victor Grantz, Andrew Kreiss, Luca Balsa, Melly Plinius, Edgar Valden... (i know they aren't really new, i just never mentioned them before lolol so they're new HERE)
Emily would never consider the fact that they were of her kind. Those like them are a different breed. They don't deserve to be a part of this wicked game. They don't deserve the costumes. They don't deserve the rush of being chased for what feels like hours, and then the excitement when you live. They won't be able to take the pain when you lose.
Letting go, she tries to calm her own nerves, looking around at the surroundings. Mike is walking into the kitchen. His neck is wrapped up completely in a bandage, large circles under his eyes. Even after Norton forced him to the top, and he won the season, he seems more beat up than anyone. I guess it makes sense.
The more work you put into something, the worse it hurts you.
"I... Can I help you cook at all?"
Xie only gives a small nod, motioning towards bread and materials to start making sandwiches. Mike jumps right in, working on them with shaking hands. He seems scared that something is going to pop out and hit him at any moment.
He seems afraid.
Of something here.
Something that he can't shake no matter how hard he tries.
The girl lets out a sigh, just looking down.
No one is ever going to be okay again, huh?
-:-:- Fiona -:-:-
Agreeing to this was a bad idea. I mean, I guess they all did ask nicely if they could meet in my room and ask questions about everything, but it's a hard time for everyone. It's a hard time for me. I think I have the right to be a little selfish.
No-
I have to be polite.
All of the new survivors sit around my room, the door shut neatly behind them. There are five, all scattered amongst my floor and bed. Sitting there beside the only other girl in the room, I give a small smile.
Fuck... I can't look any of them in the eye.
"So, uhm..." the postman, Victor, starts, wringing out his hands in his lap, "it's kind of depressing around here, huh?"
Hah. Haha.
hahahaha.
Yeah.
Sure fucking is.
"It wasn't always like this..."
They all seem to glance around among each other, obviously not knowing what to say. What would Vera do in this situation? No, she would never even consider doing it... After arriving himself, Eli welcomed everyone to come after him, as it was just in his nature to do so. I don't know what to do. This was his game.
This is his game.
What would he do?
"So, yes! You guys have already been informed how the game works, how to play, and how each of you have a special ability, right?" I ask, looking up. Some are pale and nervous, some seem fine. I wish he was here to do this. He'd know how to calm all of them down. He'd know what to say, how to laugh properly, how to fix the atmosphere.
If only he could solve his own issues like he did to everyone else's around him.
"Yeah. We came here to ask more about to social stuff and what goes in inside the manor..." Edgar, the painter, sighs, slumping over where he sits. The postman shoots him a glare.
"Well... we're all like family, I guess. Some are closer than others, but that's how everything works, right? You have to find your group to survive..."
"Survive?"
I want to say something smart, but there is no way out of this. Yeah, you have to keep your group to survive, as they'll what keep you sane. I guess you can say Eli's wasn't strong enough-
No. They tried to fucking hard. The amount of times Naib came to my room sobbing, scared that what he was doing to himself would lead to something worse was proof of that. The tears constantly in Aesop's red, puffy eyes. The way Tracy won't leave her room anymore, even for matches. Emily's new found tiredness, where she refuses to look at injuries unless they're fatal, as all she can fear now is death. The way Emma stopped talking to her scarecrow - she just quit one day, but a word never came out of her mouth after that. They're all affected.
"Yeah. Survive."
Andrew, who's in my chair, looks down at his lap before finally speaking up for the first time. It's quite obvious that he'll fail to be the talkative type. He looks like Aesop when he first came in. The way he looked before Eli brought out the best and worst in him.
"What happened that caused everyone to be like this? If it was always this depressing, people wouldn't try to smile when we see them. It's obvious something recent caused this..." he mumbles, making everyone else in the room look at him.
Fuck. I thought we were doing well, but it turns out it's easy to see past. Looking out my door, I know what's through that hallway, all the way to the door on the very end, parallel to the stairs. They never moved his lifeless body after cutting the rope he was hanging from. Naib said they were going to leave him there until he woke up, but he hasn't. His cold, still body lays in that room, refusing to rot, with everyone else refusing to get close.
It's almost like if you get far enough down that hall, you can feel the iced over chills that radiate off of him. The nights are chilling, knowing that for once in our lives here, we won't have to worry about waking up to screaming and sobbing from his room. At first, I saw it as the only plus to this situation, but now I know that it's the saddest thing that could've happened.
I wait most nights listening, for laughing from their group sneaking downstairs to get snacks, Tracy's TV in her room playing a scary movie and their muffled screams, the two lovers talking late at night about anything at all-
"He died."
I look up at the same time everyone else does. Fuck... we weren't supposed to tell. I have to fix it. The grave keeper is the only one who isn't surprised with wide eyes. As his title states, he must've been able to tell that it was death that caused all this.
Laughing lightly, I finish, "Yeah, this stray that showed up forever ago! He was sick as hell, so we knew he'd eventually die! It really sucks, as everyone loved him!"
Victor pets his dog, Wick, who lays beside him, smiling lightly.
"I have a dog that I'm sure everyone can love just as much! I hope that us coming around helps with everything!" the boy states, but it's obvious he isn't the best with his words. He's kind, but he hesitates.
After a bit more useless questions and the dismissing of the whole dead boy ordeal, they finally leave my room.
Great.
Now I have to fix everything.