Serial Killer Round 21 -- GM is now Lizmichi { Game Over, Man! Game Over! }
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@Sky: Well, y'know what they say: a quick game's a good game. And considering that the killer only has three others left to bring down, if they aren't executed this time, they win.
HOLY SHI- *faints*
If I've been voting for the right person for 4 rounds, I'mma be reeeeeally pissed D:<
If I've been voting for the right person for 4 rounds, I'mma be reeeeeally pissed D:<
Well if it's not Void and it's not Pm0n3y....Oh shit, it's me. Forgot about that. Sorry ya'll. Guess that's game, set and match. 
Anyway yeah, I'll probably get the next round up tomorrow. When it's not 4AM and I haven't had eight beers.
Phil walked through the unforgiving Canadian wilderness. Neo had called him up here, it was down to just the two of them and that mean that either of them had to be the killer, unless it was someone outside the game, but that's just silly. The remaining people had to stay together. It was just a shame this meeting was called with so few members.
Phil arrived at the cabin Neo told him to meet at. "Hey Neo, you in here man?" he called out. There was a light on in the farthest room. Phil started walking towards it. "Neo is that-" was all he got out before he was knocked out by a hockey stick to the back of the head.
[hr]
When Phil awoke he was tied to a chair in a basement. Remnants of old boxes and torn Toronto Maple Leafs Champions of 1967 posters littered the walls. Phil tried to move but he was held to the chair with strong Canadian twine.
"Welcome to the Great White North, Phil. Boot time you got up to visit. Too bad it's going to be a one-way trip for ya, there." The voice had a distinct Canadian twang to it.
"Neo man, seriously? You were the killer this whole time? Son of a *****!"
"Oh don't look so shocked Phil!" The accent changed as the tall Canuck stepped out of the shadows holding the hockey stick that knocked Phil out, as well as a steak knife. The end of the stick was sharpened considerably. "You can only wrongfully execute a guy so many times before he starts thinking of revenge. First all those times. After all the record keeping I did? That hurt man. Hurt me deep. Right to the heart."
"But why us? And how? And why do you sound so British?"
Neo turned on the radio, it was on low. A familiar tune came on the air, Rocky Mountain High by John Denver. "Good song. And you don't really think we all talk like that do you? That's silly. Anyway, you were the ones who sent me to the gallows, you were the ones who had to pay. As for how, well I guess I have Ownage to thank a little. Even when not existing he was still useful. The fervor he kicked up calling for my death before the game started got me a little sympathy. Allowed me to avoid my usual Round 1 execution, you see. From then I just had to play my cards right. After all, no one suspects the drunk Canadian, am I right? No, not the Canadian. And as I racked up the kills and you left me standing things just got easier and easier. You mistrusting Void at the end? Just the final nail I needed to take the last one of you out. Thanks for that by the way." The whole time Neo was whittling away on the end of the hockey stick, sharpening it into a fine point.
"Dude you're fucking crazy!" As he uttered this, a different song came on. Another jaunty tune. A little bit of Stealer's Wheel.
"How appropriate!" Neo said, slashing out at Phil's ear, taking it almost completely off. He screamed in pain once before seething through his teeth. "I don't take too kindly to insults Phil. Too many people have died learning that lesson for you to just go and repeat it." The blood was trickling down Phil's side as Neo went back to the hockey stick, it was almost ready. "It's amazing. The one who's been killed almost every time has succeeded where all others before me have failed. Pretty good when you have a game plan and people willing to play along, eh Phil?"
"What are you going to do then? Kill me? What will that accomplish?" Phil was starting to get a little woozy from the blood loss.
"Well it'll mean I've won for one thing," Neo said. The stick was done. "And like I said. Vengeance and all that. But look at the bright side, Phil. If this was a regular horror movie, you would have been dead a long time ago. Here, you're the last one standing. Well besides me. Anyways, you should be so happy!" With that Neo stabbed Phil right in the heart. Another cry rang out through the Canadian wilderness, but no one was around to hear. "So happy!" He kept plunging it in and out unless Phil stopped moving. The deed was done. He had won.
Neo left the basement and walked out of the cabin, the smell of propane gas filling the building. He walked outside and looked back at the place, the resting place of this round. He pulled out a matchbook, one from a rinky dink hotel in Moncton, embossed with a red maple leaf. A little bit of Phil's blood had gotten on it, a different shade of red mixing in. He took the last match out and struck it, setting it aflame before carelessly tossing it towards the house. With the gas filling it, it exploded instantly, the cozy little hideaway now a raging inferno.
"Huh, didn't think it would go up that fast....Wonder where I can get a drink around here?" With that he walked off towards civilization, his GM-appointed and self-approved task now complete.
Phil arrived at the cabin Neo told him to meet at. "Hey Neo, you in here man?" he called out. There was a light on in the farthest room. Phil started walking towards it. "Neo is that-" was all he got out before he was knocked out by a hockey stick to the back of the head.
[hr]
When Phil awoke he was tied to a chair in a basement. Remnants of old boxes and torn Toronto Maple Leafs Champions of 1967 posters littered the walls. Phil tried to move but he was held to the chair with strong Canadian twine.
"Welcome to the Great White North, Phil. Boot time you got up to visit. Too bad it's going to be a one-way trip for ya, there." The voice had a distinct Canadian twang to it.
"Neo man, seriously? You were the killer this whole time? Son of a *****!"
"Oh don't look so shocked Phil!" The accent changed as the tall Canuck stepped out of the shadows holding the hockey stick that knocked Phil out, as well as a steak knife. The end of the stick was sharpened considerably. "You can only wrongfully execute a guy so many times before he starts thinking of revenge. First all those times. After all the record keeping I did? That hurt man. Hurt me deep. Right to the heart."
"But why us? And how? And why do you sound so British?"
Neo turned on the radio, it was on low. A familiar tune came on the air, Rocky Mountain High by John Denver. "Good song. And you don't really think we all talk like that do you? That's silly. Anyway, you were the ones who sent me to the gallows, you were the ones who had to pay. As for how, well I guess I have Ownage to thank a little. Even when not existing he was still useful. The fervor he kicked up calling for my death before the game started got me a little sympathy. Allowed me to avoid my usual Round 1 execution, you see. From then I just had to play my cards right. After all, no one suspects the drunk Canadian, am I right? No, not the Canadian. And as I racked up the kills and you left me standing things just got easier and easier. You mistrusting Void at the end? Just the final nail I needed to take the last one of you out. Thanks for that by the way." The whole time Neo was whittling away on the end of the hockey stick, sharpening it into a fine point.
"Dude you're fucking crazy!" As he uttered this, a different song came on. Another jaunty tune. A little bit of Stealer's Wheel.
"How appropriate!" Neo said, slashing out at Phil's ear, taking it almost completely off. He screamed in pain once before seething through his teeth. "I don't take too kindly to insults Phil. Too many people have died learning that lesson for you to just go and repeat it." The blood was trickling down Phil's side as Neo went back to the hockey stick, it was almost ready. "It's amazing. The one who's been killed almost every time has succeeded where all others before me have failed. Pretty good when you have a game plan and people willing to play along, eh Phil?"
"What are you going to do then? Kill me? What will that accomplish?" Phil was starting to get a little woozy from the blood loss.
"Well it'll mean I've won for one thing," Neo said. The stick was done. "And like I said. Vengeance and all that. But look at the bright side, Phil. If this was a regular horror movie, you would have been dead a long time ago. Here, you're the last one standing. Well besides me. Anyways, you should be so happy!" With that Neo stabbed Phil right in the heart. Another cry rang out through the Canadian wilderness, but no one was around to hear. "So happy!" He kept plunging it in and out unless Phil stopped moving. The deed was done. He had won.
Neo left the basement and walked out of the cabin, the smell of propane gas filling the building. He walked outside and looked back at the place, the resting place of this round. He pulled out a matchbook, one from a rinky dink hotel in Moncton, embossed with a red maple leaf. A little bit of Phil's blood had gotten on it, a different shade of red mixing in. He took the last match out and struck it, setting it aflame before carelessly tossing it towards the house. With the gas filling it, it exploded instantly, the cozy little hideaway now a raging inferno.
"Huh, didn't think it would go up that fast....Wonder where I can get a drink around here?" With that he walked off towards civilization, his GM-appointed and self-approved task now complete.
Anyway yeah, I'll probably get the next round up tomorrow. When it's not 4AM and I haven't had eight beers.
Lines. Dots and lines drawn across a chart of names, crossed names littered the chart. Josh had watched the game play out; he had watched the people destroy each other and he had done nothing; because that was the deal with the devil he had made. He wanted to be known; for something, he knew that he would die at the end of this, but he didn't care; because he had nothing to live for anymore. His investigation skills had done nothing early on; once the bodies started to pile up, well, he had his reputation to consider. That's why he would be remembered, as someone who betrayed many to save one. Would he be a monster? Yes, but the monsters were those that were remembered.
He heard the steps on his porch; they were coming; one innocent man; the other his partner. Josh sighed, he had gotten the short straw after all. He lit a cigarette and picked up his gun. He heard the solid knock of his door. Three times. He did nothing to move, enjoying his last cigarette, the smoke entering and exciting him in a satisfying manner. It was beautiful, smooth and most importantly; on his own terms. Just like his death would be.
They started to kick the door; too bad that it was reinforced; they'd need to think a little harder than that to get to him before he did. He looked at the ornate gun, 9mm, engraved with the words, "A man chooses; a slave obeys. He had obeyed long enough; he wouldn't give him the satisfaction of killing him. He was choosing. He set a single round into the chamber and clicked the hammer back. It was as if another hammer clicked echoed his and an explosion followed by another blasted the door open. They had used shotguns to take the hinges off; see that was clever, but they were too late...
The two survivors waltzed into the house. They looked at the literature on his shelves, nothing trashy, educated person resided here, that's all that was here, a smart man who couldn't do the right thing; or catch a Killer, so instead a man who only thought himself smart. They heard a laugh; something cold, dead already. Someone who just didn't care anymore. And then a crash, the sound of a shot struck their ears. They turned into the room and saw a man who chose. The blood splattered against the wall but they could still make out the face, circled in red ink and one man's heart turned an icy cold.
He heard the steps on his porch; they were coming; one innocent man; the other his partner. Josh sighed, he had gotten the short straw after all. He lit a cigarette and picked up his gun. He heard the solid knock of his door. Three times. He did nothing to move, enjoying his last cigarette, the smoke entering and exciting him in a satisfying manner. It was beautiful, smooth and most importantly; on his own terms. Just like his death would be.
They started to kick the door; too bad that it was reinforced; they'd need to think a little harder than that to get to him before he did. He looked at the ornate gun, 9mm, engraved with the words, "A man chooses; a slave obeys. He had obeyed long enough; he wouldn't give him the satisfaction of killing him. He was choosing. He set a single round into the chamber and clicked the hammer back. It was as if another hammer clicked echoed his and an explosion followed by another blasted the door open. They had used shotguns to take the hinges off; see that was clever, but they were too late...
The two survivors waltzed into the house. They looked at the literature on his shelves, nothing trashy, educated person resided here, that's all that was here, a smart man who couldn't do the right thing; or catch a Killer, so instead a man who only thought himself smart. They heard a laugh; something cold, dead already. Someone who just didn't care anymore. And then a crash, the sound of a shot struck their ears. They turned into the room and saw a man who chose. The blood splattered against the wall but they could still make out the face, circled in red ink and one man's heart turned an icy cold.
@Neo, That was totally not the avenging I was looking for.
@Lost, Creepy, but well done death, and it makes me want to dive into Rapture again.
@Lost, Creepy, but well done death, and it makes me want to dive into Rapture again.
*ahem*
Gentlemen...
(I'm suddenly confused as to what I did. Was I against the killer by saying to vote for him at the beginning despite not knowing it was him, or was I with him because it was reverse psychology? Either way I've overstayed my welcome. *runs*)
Gentlemen...
(I'm suddenly confused as to what I did. Was I against the killer by saying to vote for him at the beginning despite not knowing it was him, or was I with him because it was reverse psychology? Either way I've overstayed my welcome. *runs*)
Michi was sitting up at the JIB enjoying the cheese cake table when her phone rang, the ID said one word and it was enough to make her pick up. "Hello Neo, any news? Still enjoying your killing spree?" I said not seeing you behind me the same bloody hockey stick you used to kill Phil in one hand and a phone in the other.
"Oh it's going well, Phil's dead but there's one more thing I need to take care of Mich." Neo said malice in his voice. He smirked waiting for her to respond. "Oh what would that be Neo? Need to drink some beer?" she laughed softly not knowing what was coming her way.
"No no, just your GM power and for that well you need to live yet again. A god can't bleed." Neo said pushing Michi off her chair putting the hockey stick to her neck and laughed softly.
"So after all that I've done it comes to this I see, well this is a first. The killer brings one of his victims back to life. Still I have to thank you for killing me." Michi said looking up at her Canadian friend with a smile. "Seriously why the death stick?" she asked.
"Meh, not a problem Mich. I always said I'd kill you when I was the killer and it seems I get to take your power as well. God Michi it's a hockey stick, you should know that and I though it'd be fitting you know. Besides I'm a bit drunk and forgot to put it away." Neo said picking up Michi and walked to the edge of the JIB carrying her over his shoulder. "Looks like this is where you fall back into life Michi. Feel the blood rush through your veins and all that shit." Neo said throwing Michi from the JIB taking her GM crown and walked right to that bar ordering yet another beer from one of the angles. "It's good to be Canadian eh?"
"Oh it's going well, Phil's dead but there's one more thing I need to take care of Mich." Neo said malice in his voice. He smirked waiting for her to respond. "Oh what would that be Neo? Need to drink some beer?" she laughed softly not knowing what was coming her way.
"No no, just your GM power and for that well you need to live yet again. A god can't bleed." Neo said pushing Michi off her chair putting the hockey stick to her neck and laughed softly.
"So after all that I've done it comes to this I see, well this is a first. The killer brings one of his victims back to life. Still I have to thank you for killing me." Michi said looking up at her Canadian friend with a smile. "Seriously why the death stick?" she asked.
"Meh, not a problem Mich. I always said I'd kill you when I was the killer and it seems I get to take your power as well. God Michi it's a hockey stick, you should know that and I though it'd be fitting you know. Besides I'm a bit drunk and forgot to put it away." Neo said picking up Michi and walked to the edge of the JIB carrying her over his shoulder. "Looks like this is where you fall back into life Michi. Feel the blood rush through your veins and all that shit." Neo said throwing Michi from the JIB taking her GM crown and walked right to that bar ordering yet another beer from one of the angles. "It's good to be Canadian eh?"
@ownage: The answer is simple. Neither, because you didn't know.
As a side note, if your message had gotten Neo executed first, you would have been blacklisted and removed from Serial Killer for ten rounds. Neo and I had agreed on that at the first sign of your presence in the thread, considering that you weren't a part of the round.
As a side note, if your message had gotten Neo executed first, you would have been blacklisted and removed from Serial Killer for ten rounds. Neo and I had agreed on that at the first sign of your presence in the thread, considering that you weren't a part of the round.
@Neoammit I knew it was you, after round 5. Also, can you take me into the next round please? I want to be a regular.
ammit I knew it was you, after round 5. Also, can you take me into the next round please? I want to be a regular.