dexter morgan.

Aaron: No, Dex. I'm fucking not. The fact that mine, yours and Sebastian's name are all on that same fucking thing is creeping me out. I'm with him now, and this shit isn't fucking moving.

That is unfortunately very true. I appreciate the perspective. I’m sorry, I wish I had better news to give. I understand, of course. Family is important. It is no trouble, really. Aaron seems like a good guy.

So you already know him? 

I sure as fuck hope I’m drunk enough for this.

Yeah, sure. Come on over, I guess. I have a few people on the way too, but… I guess having you here wouldn’t be that bad. I need to talk to you anyway. This place is getting too fucking weird. Right when I think it’s done, boom. More weirdness.

Other people? Who? I’m not sure I trust anyone here but you. I have no reason to. I think we need to talk too, in person.

When I find out who gave these shitty fucking presents, I’m personally gonna be beating some ass. Anyway, I got a whole fuck ton of beer over here if anyone wants to come join me in drinking myself to death. Thanks a fucking lot.

It’s no coincidence that our captors gave me one of my kill room supplies. They know. The last thing I need is Aaron finding out what I am. This place is trying my patience.

Are you still looking for company?

Your sister definitely sounds like she’d have had it right in this case. This is really, really beginning to be just a bit more than a bit too much.   

My brother and sister are both... verbose, what can I say. You’re not wrong there.

As if it weren’t obvious before, this place is legitimately fucked. Merry fucking Christmas. I’m sure we’re all in the same boat tonight. 

Merry fucking Christmas, as my brother and sister would say.

While tonight’s events sound lovely, I think I’m going to pass on this one. Truth be told, I haven’t been feeling my best today. If you’re planning on going down, I hope you have fun. Let me know if I miss anything exciting, guys. 

It’s The Grinch and Krampus, I don’t think you’re missing much.

So, uh… anyone want to go with me to this thing tonight? Not gonna miss anything else after the last one, as if I’d ever consider missing Home Alone, but also not down to go alone.

We could go. Nobody seems to be worried about the situation we’re in, so... when in Rome, right?

Aaron: Yup, that I remember. I couldn't agree more. Come over around 5? Does that work for you?

Dexter: 5 works for me, of course. Do you need me to bring anything?

Aaron: So, uh... what do you say you come over later? I got a couple porterhouses and a 6 pack of beer from that grocery run, and no one cooks'em like you do.

Aaron: ... from what I remember, anyway.

Yeah. But kidnapped to enjoy a nice vacation sounded way better than just stalked for years and then kidnapped. I think this is literally the first time in my life that hearing I’m special doesn’t make me feel special at all. Funny joke, now I’d appreciate if whoever is pulling it over would just… show up and let us go. 

The only problem with that thought process is that it doesn’t make much sense. Not that this makes any more sense. I don’t think anyone is going to be let go any time soon either. After whoever did this put so much effort into getting us here, and setting all of this up. I’d be impressed if I wasn’t here myself.  

I suppose I shouldn’t find that surprising, I’m apparently batting zero in the comforting department today. Nice to meet you, Dexter. I’m Frannie. Oh yes, Aaron! I fed him one of our first nights here. Well, the majority of us have been here for…Six days now? Seven? That whole losing track of time thing is really beginning to set in. I do believe you may be right about that. Are you…Settling in alright? Do you need a meal or anything?

It’s not personal, I think we’re all a little beyond comfort at the moment. Knowing that this has already gone on for a week doesn’t help. More like losing control like this doesn’t help. Nobody outsmarts me. It’s a kind offer, but I should see my brother before I make plans with anyone else. I’m glad he’s had someone here.

Psychopaths can appear normal, even charming. Underneath, they lack any semblance of conscience. Their antisocial nature inclines them often (but by no means always) to criminality.

Psychopaths spark popular fascination and clinical anguish: Adult psychopathy is largely resistant to treatment, though programs exist to treat callous, unemotional youth in hopes of preventing them from maturing into psychopaths.

Brain anatomy, genetics, and a person’s environment may all contribute to the development of psychopathic traits.

If it makes you feel any better, you aren’t alone in that. None of us are, I’d think. Unless this is the sort of thing someone enjoys partaking in, in which case have your fun but leave me out of it next time. I wish I had some insight to give on those answers, but I’m just as lost as everyone else. I’m Frannie, it’s…Well, not nice to meet you, given the circumstances, but I’m sure you catch my drift. 

Oddly enough, it doesn’t. Right. I’m Dexter. You may have met my brother, he’s here too. Aaron Morgan. How long has everyone been here? From what I can tell, I’m the last to have arrived. 

Hooray. Definitely not anyone’s lucky day now, I guess. Yeah, the houses. Decorated to perfection. All of them. Now we know how they managed to get that all right, huh? Creepy stalkers, man. The whole “don’t panic” warnings kinda make sense now. It’s weird. Weirder now. Whatever experiment they got going on, I’m sure it’s a pretty shitty one now. 

Clearly not. Though to play devil’s advocate, we already knew that we’d been kidnapped. Now we know that it’s because we’re ...special. Somehow. But we also know now that we’ve been duped for years. Someone’s been pulling one over on all of us for longer than we thought.

He just comes back after all this time and pulls the ‘little buddy’ card? What the actual fuck.

Your guess is as fucking good as mine, Dexter. Christ on a fucking cracker. No, I don’t know where we are. Do you? All I know is, we’re on an island and there’s no way off. No airports, boats, cars, ability to make fucking phone calls off of this thing. Everyone somehow blacked out at some point and ended up here. All we have are several stores, a beach, houses and trees. Oh, and fucking welcome parties with all you can eat buffets. I definitely don’t trust those. 

**

And videos of memories past, some of which nobody else should have been privy to. That’s an interesting interpretation of a “party.” One I’ve never heard before. So we know this isn’t a good place. I’d ask what you remembered about the night you were abducted, but I don’t have to. 

It might not be the best idea to talk about anything too serious out in the open. You never know who’s watching, and it’s clear that our captor is a voyeur. My secret wasn’t exposed on that film, but there’s no telling whether or not it’ll be used against me. It’s better to not cross anyone and keep investigating quietly. No need to draw attention to either reason I have for being so good at solving crimes. This place is fascinating.

We should get together. Soon. We can catch up. I think now’s a pretty good time for a beer.