Huh. Looks like I'm dead.
Everyone in the building had an invite to the party. It was supposed to be one of the "murder mystery" parties that upper class socialites enjoy. Not really my scene. Lots of people, lots of noise, lots of problems.
But lately people hadn't been too bad. I ran into Guin a few more times, and we even hung out last weekend. She told me she got an invite, too, although she wasn't one of the main characters. So I figured maybe I could go.
That's when I glance at my role. I'm the murdered person? It says that I'm supposed show up, and when the lights go off, I lie down on the table. The charming host even sent me some fake blood to use.
Heh. I guess he knows me pretty well. I don't mind being dead. I don't have to talk to people that way.
The party went pretty smoothly, at first. I showed up, talked to Guin a bit, she tried to figure out my role. I wouldn't tell her, though. She'll see soon enough.
Then, as my letter said, the lights went off. I found the table and stretched out. Time to not move for an hour.
That's when I heard a scream, and someone else bumped into me. The lights came on.
Guess I'm not the only dead one around here.