#ch.01

The first sign was in the elevator, fastened to the glass by a crooked piece of tape. ’SO PYJAMA PARTY IN GAME ROOM’ it read in bold, blocky letters. The second sign was in the centre of the suites; ‘PARTY THAT WAY’, accompanied by a long arrow pointing towards the elevator. The third sign was taped to the spa door: ‘THIS WAY TO PYJAMA PARTY!!! ☺’ 

For all who wished to make an appearance, the Game Room was the final stop; inside, Toto could be found by the dartboard, awaiting his guests with an impressive pink bubble protruding from his mouth. He was notably not wearing pajamas. All around him, board games of every kind had been put on display, and the pool table had been repurposed into a snack table—there was chocolate-drizzled popcorn, tortilla chips, salsa, a bowl of moderately burnt cheese, five types of gummy candy, and whole apples for the health-conscious passengers aboard.

“Mm-. . .!” 

Toto spun around when he heard the door open, eyes alight with excitement. It took only a glance to determine that Dot’s announcement had not been weighing heavily on Toto’s mind. Killing Hour? Murder? Detectives? Right now they were only words. The bubble deflated with a pop, and Toto peeled it off his face.

“You’re the first one here!” he said. At the other end of the room, the newly-arrived passenger did not look quite so happy as he did. Toto remembered the crowd on the deck two hours earlier—all those faces, drawn and uneasy. 

“Oh–! Are you worried?” Toto tipped his head to the side, his voice loud even over the pinging of machines. “That someone’s going to hurt you?” He took a step closer. “Because of the prizes, right?”  Toto pulled the Killing Hour watch from his pocket. He held it up at his side, grinned, and moved his thumb over the bright red button at the top. Click. The clock’s hands dialed upright; slowly, one began to tick.