#;cecile

Cecile: Were heads supposed to hurt this much? Had she had too much to drink last night? Those thoughts ran briefly through her head as she fought her way to consciousness. Cecile knew there was something she was supposed to be doing, but she couldn’t remember. Her eyes blinked slowly, but her vision was still blurred enough that she couldn’t make out anything. She moaned softly before trying to rub her eyes in an effort to clear them, except her hands wouldn’t move. A second later, everything came back to her and she remembered a dark shape and sharp pain in her head. Her vision focused in on a dark room with stone walls making her think she hadn’t been moved from the catacombs. At least that meant she probably hadn’t been out long. “Hello?” she called out hesitantly. Cecile wanted to be happy that she wasn’t gagged, but that meant something even worse: that no one could hear her anyways.

Thomas: The cold air of the catacombs greeted Thomas as he struggled to open his eyes. The pounding of his head sharped and grew worse as the tiny difference in light hit his eyes so he quickly shut them again as attempting to reach up and rub his temples he realized he couldn’t move his hands or legs. In a panic his eyes flew open and as his vision cleared he looked around, trying to place exactly where in the catacombs he was. With the little light in the room he was able to determine that he had absolutely no idea where he was which was less than helpful. He’d just begun to seriously panic when he heard a voice in the darkness. “Cecile? Is that you?”

The Killer: They stood at a distance, straining to see any and everything that happened before them as their victims finally awoke. Knocking them out had been easy enough, dragging them here and tying them down. It was all easy. It was building their confidence. This whole situation was something they should have done hours ago, but too many things had happened to cause them to readjust their schedule. This was their test-run. They needed to perfect their technique, if there was any hope at seeing it come to play at a larger scale. They'd knocked the two love-birds out, the obvious choice for this experiment in human nature. Cecile and Thomas were sat in chairs opposite each other, a table in between. Thomas was tied down, arms and legs. Cecile, however had a single hand free from the ropes. Stepping out of the shadows, they stood a few feet away. "Yes, it's her. Surprised to see her, Thomas? Did you think it was someone else?" They smirked. "Astrid, maybe?"

Cecile: She nearly sighed in relief when she heard Thomas’ voice. He would know what to do, could get them out of this insane situation. Though she was the take charge type most of the time, her own terror was preventing her from thinking of any solutions. She was about to answer him when another voice interrupted her. Cecile took a deep breath, and then another in an attempt to calm herself. But the name of her friend distracted her for a moment. “Astrid?” she asked quietly. “What would she have to do with this?” Perhaps she could talk her way out of this; she’d always been able to do that before. But the lengths this person had gone to… It seemed unlikely that they would let them go now unless it were all some sort of prank. But the pounding in her head and restrained limbs spoke of something much worse. A second later, she realized that she’d made a mistake. The hand she’d attempted to use had been restrained, but her other had not. Perhaps this madman had made a colossal mistake and forgotten it in haste. She reached quietly for her other hand, attempting to find any sort of knot she could untie. In an attempt to distract the person from her attempt, she continued talking. “Do you really think that no one will miss us?”

Thomas: The relief he’d felt when he heard Cecile’s voice was replaced almost instantly with fear as a third voice joined them. He didn’t know how to answer the question about Astrid, or at least not without hurting her and considering he wasn’t sure how this night was going to end that was the last night that he wanted to do which meant he was pleased when she changed the subject quick enough that he didn’t have to worry about it. “What the hell is going on? Is this your idea of a sick joke? She’s right, you know? There are people that care about us. I-I have a sister and we have friends and-” He stopped himself, realizing that in his panic he was rambling. He swallowed, hoping the lump that had risen in his throat would disappear. “What are you going to do to us?”

The Killer: Coming between the love birds, they flipped on the lantern that sat on the cold metal table in between them, filling the area with some light. They looked each of them in the face for a moment, a grin on their lips. "I'm not going to do a single God Damn thing. So long as you play by the rules." They stepped back, disappearing into the shadows once more and whistling as they walked to the edge of the room to be hidden in the darkness. They called out from their place in the dark, "Cecile, would you be so kind as to reach for the underside of your chair. You'll have to stretch a bit, but you'll make it." They assured her, waiting for her to do as they said. "There's something taped there for you. Grab it. Show it to dear Thomas." It was an old revolver, placed there specifically for her to use. "Before you get any ideas," They stretched their arm out of the shadows, revealing to her that they had their own gun trained on Thomas's head, "I suggest you allow me to tell you the rules."

Cecile: She shut her eyes only for a moment against the harsh influx of light, but opened them a second later if only to confirm that Thomas was, in fact, there and safe. A moment later she glanced at the stranger, but her gaze didn’t stay on him long. Though the stranger’s words should have filled her with some sort of relief, Cecile felt a cold shiver of dread instead. Just what did they mean that they weren’t going to do anything? Did they have an accomplice to do all their dirty work for them? And play by what rules? Cecile had always been the type to play by the rules, but this was different than anything else. Although she wanted to continue working on the knot, they had instructed her to reach underneath her chair. So clearly they had not forgotten that little detail. This was looking worse and worse for both of them. She stretched, straining to reach whatever it was until her findtips touched cold metal. A few moments later she finally grasped the object and ripped it from the tape. She held it up, almost not believing what she was holding until the person continued and showed her their own gun fixed on Thomas. Cecile swallowed heavily and placed the offending object on the table between them to show Thomas. “Okay,” she whispered, finally looking back towards the person even though she could only see their arm. “What are the rules?”

Thomas: The sudden flash of light made the pounding in his head flare and he snapped his eyes close to relieve the tension but quickly realized that having his eyes closed was a terrible idea and cracked them open again. He refused on principal to look at their captor and kept his eyes trained on Cecile no matter. He felt a pit of dread cement itself in his stomach as the stranger explained as vaguely as possible. He watched as Cecile reached under her chair to pull out a small gun and placed it on the table looking more worried than he felt. Movement from the corner of the room caught his attention so he turned his head to look and found himself staring at the barrel of a gun, he felt his eyes widen, his mouth fall open and his whole body tense in fear and shock. He was broken from his almost trance-like state by Cecile speaking to the figure in the shadows, he voice a whisper. “You have to shoot me.” He said not realizing what was coming out of his mouth until after he’d said it. “He wants you to shoot me, while he watches.”

The Killer: They laughed- heartily, the gun wavering as they did their best to keep them self in place with their fit of laughter. "No," They began, through the laughter. "Thomas you're getting ahead of yourself." Their laughter subsided, and they looked towards Cecile. "Cecile! It is quite a shame you ended up here tonight. The fact of the matter is; Thomas dragged you into this. Knowing or not, you wouldn't be in this game if it wasn't for his...actions." They rolled their shoulders, their body tired and injured. A tongue peeked out of their mouth and they licked their lips before preceding. "Cecile I am giving you the choice here. Kill Thomas. Or, Kill yourself." After a moment, they waved their hand, "Let me clarify. Either you shoot yourself or Thomas, or I kill you both." They nodded, their game clearer now. "Thomas, don't you think it's fair she knows why she's here tonight before she makes her decision? Maybe it's time to spill the beans about A-certain someone." Lovers were..fun to play with. But lovers with secrets? Lovers with broken trust? Those were the best. "Tick, Tock Cecile. You have.. two minutes to decide."

Cecile: “No,” she breathed. A moment later she spoke up louder. “No.” Her sentiment was echoed by the person holding the gun, and she breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment. Then they continued speaking, and Cecile’s thoughts became even more confused than before. Thomas couldn’t have dragged her into this; this had to be some sort of sick mistake. She focused in on the words when she heard that she was being given a choice. But she had to bite back the urge to vomit or scream when she heard it. Both options weren’t options, not to her. She couldn’t kill him, and she didn’t want to kill herself. But if that were the only option… Cecile’s mind was spinning with her choices, each one horrible. But at the mention of someone else, she was jerked out of those thoughts. “Someone else?” she asked glancing from the person back to Thomas. “What are they talking about?”

Thomas: The laughter unnerved him, made him feel uncomfortable in a way that almost felt primal,as if he knew, instinctively, that a predator laughing at his prey was the kind to be terrified of. He listened to the stranger talk, wishing they would just be quiet the more and more it spoke both because he wanted to whole ordeal to be over and because he didn’t want anything to happen to Cecile, even if that “something” was just him telling her long-kept secrets.. Cecile looked like she was going to throw up and he couldn’t blame her, he almost wanted to as well but he tried to keep a clear head. The confusion in Cecile’s voice as her eyes flickered from the shadowy figure back to him struck a chord in his heart and he almost told her the truth right then and there but as he opened his mouth to speak he couldn’t force himself to respond. Hoping a change in subject would distract her he turned his face toward the darkened corner. “Why are you doing this? What’s the purpose? Life is precious, why are you so comfortably taking it away from people?”

The Killer: They shook their head in the darkness, pointing the gun at Cecile and then waving it back at Thomas a moment later. "He's not even brave enough to say it. You aren't actually considering dying for him are you?" They were rooting for her, if only a little bit. Still, they had to admire Thomas' refusal to incriminate himself even in what were very likely his final moments. "You have one minute. Decide." Their tone was cold, disappointment lacing their voice. They wanted to see the outcome, wanted to see how far someone was willing to go to protect someone who just utterly did not deserve it. The sighed finally, blurting it out. "He's fucking her, Cecile!" Probably. They weren't entirely sure how far the relationship was, but the signs were obvious enough for anyone who'd been watching. Anyone who'd seen the texts.

Cecile: Her restrained hand gripped the armrest hard enough to turn her knuckles white. She glanced from person to person in an attempt to think through, perhaps buy them some more time. Cecile had hoped Thomas would answer her question, that perhaps they would discover it was all a big mistake. But instead he just questioned the stranger. She bit her lip at the word ‘decide’ when it was spoken again. She didn’t want to decide, not on something like this. Not without all of the information. Her eyes went to the figure at the next sentence. She looked back at Thomas a moment later, betrayed in her eyes. “What are they talking about, Thomas?” she asked again, her tone making it clear she wouldn’t be asking again as her free hand slowly reached for the gun.

Thomas: Thomas’s eyes bounced from Cecile to the figure across the table, attempting to take a deep breath and calm himself. The voice continued to speak, coming out if the darkness with a disappointed tone and he was struck with the realization that they weren’t going to pick up what he was puttin down. On one hand coming clean seemed like the only way to get out of this alive, at this point it seemed that if Cecile didn’t kill him the stranger would, but if he told Cecile and she shot him she’d lose all trust in her best friend. His eyes swung back to the figure at his outburst, mouth going dry. He looked back at Cecile across the table, the betrayal in her eye evident. The no nonsense tone to her voice as she reached for the gun told him he was as good as dead anyway and that he might as well die with no secrets. “We’re not fucking, I-It’s not like that.” He swallowed before continuing, trying to make himself sound ashamed. “We aren’t even actually seeing each other technically but we-we have gone out, together, a few times.” Unsure of what to do after finally telling her, he looked at his lap. “I’m sorry.”

The Killer: "He's sorry?" The called out loudly. "Oh He's sorry! It's all alright, because's he's SORRY!" They were being dramatic, but as an ever cynical they felt it was the least they should be doing to open this stupid girl's eyes. "Thomas you're pathetic." They said coldly, slapping the wall behind them with their gun to emphasize their disappointment. Pulling out their phone, they checked the timer, their free hand holding the gun towards Thomas as their eyes checked the screen. "Thirty seconds, dear. Go ahead and shoot him and let's be done with it all- I have so much to prepare, and you two have proven far less exciting than I expected. No screaming, not nearly enough tears.." They sighed heavily. "Well, go on then."

Cecile: Her eyes filled with tears as Thomas finally answered. Though she wanted to be filled with relief as he admitted the hadn’t slept together, his next words somehow made it worse. She probably could have forgiven him if he’d slept with her. Sins of the flesh were easier to forgive than sins of the heart. She shook her head slowly, processing the words as best as she could. Tears filled her eyes as she looked at Thomas before slowly falling. “I could’ve loved you,” she whispered. Taking a deep breath, she wrapped her hand around the gun and picked it up. With her finger on the trigger, she gave him a sad smile, refusing to even glance at the person forcing her to such an unspeakable act. “Take care of her, okay?” Before she’d even finished the words, Cecile held the gun under her throat aiming up. And before she could lose her nerve, she pulled the trigger.

Thomas: Thomas cringed as the stranger yelled in response to his confession and wished he could feel as bad as he knew he should but instead he felt relief that he’d finally told Cecile the truth. His head snapped up to look at the killer as he instructed the girl across the table to shoot him, eyes narrowing as complained about them not being exciting enough. He resisted the urge to say something sarcastic, not wanting his last words to be ones filled spite. His head turned to look at Cecile as she spoke and he could see the tears in her eyes. His eyebrows furrowed at her next words, confusion settling on him like a blanket and before he knew it the bang on a gun echoed off the walls as Cecile slumped forward in her seat. It took him a moment to comprehend what had happened but as soon as the realization hit him he attempted to launch himself towards her, wrenching his still-tied arm. “NO!” He yelled as he tried to squirm out of the rope binding him to his chair. “Cecile…” He felt the warmth of tears spill out on his cheeks and almost gave in to the sob that was bubbling up from his chest before he realized he was still tied to a chair with a gun pointed at him. He drew himself up, ignoring the pain in his shoulder that told him he’d probably dislocated it and looked at the figure in the shadows. “What happens now?”