That creature is still with me tonight, though rather than a classroom, I’m inside what seems to be a hotel suite. I fall back into bed and sink into the embrace of a soft mattress, recalling what happened after the trial ended.
The cat had meowled over the intercom and told us to enter our rooms for the night, and the double doors that we had tried so hard to pry open swung outwards without even having been touched.
A long red carpet led us to a wide table, and to the right of that table was a sleek elevator. On the table itself were twelve manila envelopes sealed with little animal stickers. I took the one with a snake, tore it, and my fingers found cold plastic. A bedroom’s keycard.
“Cur-mew will begin in thirty minutes. Make way to your rooms, purrlease.”
Suite Map
2F
1F
Our room assignments were as above, and the elevator ride to the second floor was short and awkward.
“Good night everyone,” the Horse had said, her timber bright yet strained.
“G’ night,” Lily murmured, and hers was the only voice to be the only voice raised in reply. The Rat and the Pig both left for their rooms, and before I could muster my own courage to speak, the last suite door eases shut.
That all brings me to now. The suite itself is fairly generic except for the metal sheet welded over what I assume used to be a window, and a giant gun that serves as a rather obtrusive roommate. Then there’s a king-sized bed, a TV without any channels, a set of drawers, a tall nightstand, and a sleek black refrigerator.
On the refrigerator’s top shelf is a mysterious jar, and inside it is a pale orange pill, rattling around within the container’s empty white embrace when I shake it.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
SAMPLE DOSAGE—TAKE WHEN SICK
The label says simply. I ignore this pathetic imitation of an aspirin and eagerly examine the appliance’s cluttered lower shelves instead
The one benefit of having a hotel room during a death game is that the minibar is free. I stuff myself with two bags of chips and a chocolate bar, and drink my fill of what was labeled as genuine ‘German Spring Water.’ I finish off this banquet binge with a fizzy lemon-lime seltzer.
While in the bathroom, I free a toothbrush from its plastic wrap, coax toothpaste from a tiny tube and swish away. I then take a shower, hot water rolling down my shoulders, and collecting awkwardly behind my iron collar—there’s nothing I can do to slip it off, though I do my best to towel off the skin underneath.
Routine finished, I at last fall into bed. The creature around my heart is curled tight, but no longer so much as it once was that it keeps from sleep.
But rather than count sheep, I count the seconds on the clock. At midnight tonight our so-called Cat God will decide which players to bless and grant extra powers. One villager will become the healer, who can protect someone from murder, and another will become the seer, a role that checks a player each night and learns whether or not they’re a wolf.
11:59
12:00
The clock changes.
The TV screen flickers on, and I’m bathed in blue light. The red-and-black Cat God appears before me, stretching its virtual claws as it gives me a disgusted, contemptuous look.
“You have been blessed with the pawesome gift of nyomeowlacy, meow!”
In other words…
I’m a villager and nothing more. And that makes me feel content.
The healer and seer roles both have a massive influence on whether or not the village wins the game, and as such the wolves will always target them first for murder. Since I am merely a powerless villager, I can focus on my true objective instead—keeping Lily alive.
With the weight of responsibility lifted from my shoulders, I’m free to drift into sleep. Hotel beds are the best. If you’ve ever gone to one of those suspicious mattress stores by the highway and tried their wares you’ll know what a hotel bed is like—the whole reason those stores are in business after all is to supply hotels and inns. With these fluffy, comfortable (and probably slightly overpriced) king beds.
Isn’t it funny how thoughts can drift and dive in all directions right before sleep? Isn’t it funny how words go crazy and wobbly and nonsensically and how trains can go and stop and how fish swim in the royal fall and go about and…
Tap tap tap.
...Mmm?”
Tap tap tap.
I wake, and my heart briefly freezes. It’s 2:33 AM.
It’s still night, and someone—someone outside is trying to get in. I drag the covers over me as if to make myself invisible to any vicious wolf. I didn’t mind death or killing during the trial, but it’s one thing to think about death in the daylight or lamplight, and another to consider it with a half-awake brain in the dark.
“Tomorrow, tomorrow, I’m fine with dying. But for tonight, just let me rest!”
Another voice then crawls out directly behind me—right up against the bed’s headboard.
“So we can hear one another through the wall. That’s good to know.”
“ —oh.” I fling the covers away and click on the light. No one’s in my room, or even in the hallway outside. There is, however, a Rat in my wall.
“Hrrk… snrkkk!!”
“Don’t pretend to snore. I heard that outburst, y’ know.”
Drat. It’s the boy in the hood, that thin, skulking, smirking brat.
“We don’t need to like each other,” the Rat continues. “In fact, I think you’re absolutely nuts—but I’ve got to ask you a few questions.”
I smooth my twisted blankets and fluff out my pillow. It’s a nice, calming shade of white, and the mattress feels as cool as water. If only I could I just sink into it and dive into my dreams…
“I led yesterday’s vote on the Monkey, so it makes sense if you suspect me. I’ll even admit it: I’m a wolf, so if you don’t let me sleep, I’ll murder you with my own two paws,” I sigh.
“Snake, that’s the thing. I thought you were suspicious, so I checked you tonight; I’m the seer.”
