《Overtime》 Prologue Part One There¡¯s a certain kind of pain that failure brings. It¡¯s not a sting- nothing sharp and fast. It¡¯s a slow steady sinking, starting in your chest and weighing heavy in your belly. It¡¯s crushing. And it¡¯s somehow more painful than whatever the killing blow to Devorah actually was. Henry seemed like the kind of guy who¡¯d like to drag it out. Henry seemed like he was a lot of things, including smarter than he actually turned out to be. There was no way Dev¡¯s murder would go unsolved in the investigation period. Anna would see to that, even if Henry found some kind of middle ground of intelligence and managed to make a decent puzzle for her. Dev hoped it would be memorable enough. Hell, the fact that she was thinking? Proof enough that it was. Though it wasn¡¯t her, not really. There had been hope in the first few seconds. Maybe someone had found her in time, or that she had just passed out from the stress, or. Well, something. But that was about as long as it took for Dev to realize she didn¡¯t exactly have a body. It felt like a body, this collection of nanobots programmed to the whims of the sophisticated AI unwillingly created from her neurological cues and downloaded at the moment of her death, but it was unchanging. A body that could never grow or age. Could that even be considered human anymore? She had the appearance of one, kind of. Based on what she could see, it looked pretty close to Dev as she had been in life. Same brown skin, if only a little more see through. The same sweater and skirt combo that had been assigned to her by whoever did costuming. Everything was the same. Aside from, you know, the giant gash in the middle of her stomach, blood frozen in an off-circle pattern on its soft surface. Probably about as bloody as it was at the time of her death. Which meant it was that sharp and sudden pain in her belly that did her in. Thanks, Henry. At least it wasn¡¯t as drawn out as he promised her death would be. Their game of cat and mouse was long and deadly. Obviously. Devorah could recall bits and pieces- running, panting, the rush of being caught. Most of it was still hazy, aside from the most important bit. That sharp, sharp sting and then... nothingness. Death. It¡¯s not like Dev was surprised at the death, after all. She knew she was going to die the second she woke up in the game. All because of that stupid¡­ That stupid? Despite her mostly incorporeal form, a crushing pain worse than even guilt and failure and her death blow put together ravaged her temples. Dev clutched at her head, still somehow able to weave her hands through long, dark curls. Maybe because they were her own. Almost instantly the pain abated. Likely because she wasn¡¯t thinking about¡­ What was she¡­ Aaaaand there was the pain again. Just as awful as before. Time to become as detached as possible. Time to think of something else. Kittens. Uh, books. News. Anna. Oh, Anna. She was going to be pissed. The masochist inside Dev really hoped it was Anna buying some time with her. Anna was going to narrow her eyes, and drink three glasses of wine in her direction, and probably say something that would cut right to the core but it would be worth it, really. To know everything was worth it. She couldn¡¯t sit here and contemplate failing completely. Anna had to have made it out of the game. So Dev waited. And waited a little more. Resolutely not thinking about whatever that stupid thing was and mostly succeeding, and resolutely not thinking about Anna and mostly failing. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. But it gave her time to feel around wherever she was. Not that there was much to see. It was some kind of long, thin storage container. When she pushed against its confines, the wall wouldn¡¯t give. She couldn¡¯t phase through either. It was a bit weird. Dev thought they would have just booted her up and threw her at whoever ordered time with her. Probably not a sponsorship. They wouldn¡¯t need her to think, and they usually didn¡¯t want their influencers bloodied up. So it was probably some sponsor of the game, or a fan with deep pockets. Or, as Dev was hoping, someone with the deep pockets a popular survivor might have. And Anna would be popular. There was no way she wouldn¡¯t be. The way she took control of investigations, the way she shut down Markony- there had to be all kinds of compilations on the internet. Anna was so pretty, too. With her soft, light hair and sharp eyes. Feminine in a way Dev never cared to be, though Dev came from a time and place where that was much less important. Yes, she would be popular. Dev just hoped she would be popular enough to be able to settle comfortably in- Suddenly, there was a bright, flashing light. Then a holographic screen appeared in front of Devorah. In big words it said YOU HAVE TWENTY MINUTES TO COMPLETE THIS TRAINING EXERCISE. And a tiny, cartoon version of Devorah popped up on screen. Well, mostly cartoon. The body was cartoon, with paler skin than Devorah had, and dressed in a plain little suit. Then there was its head. An oversized picture of Devorah¡¯s face was balancing on top of the little suited body. The character waved merrily at her from the screen, but it was rather incongruous as mini-Devorah was not smiling. In fact, one eye was half closed, and her mouth was in the shape of an awkward grimace. Guess that flash had been a photograph. Another little figure walked on screen to generically cheery music, this one fully cartoon with a normal smile. ¡°Hello there!¡± It said. ¡°Welcome to your first day as an intern for Barracuda Media Corporation! We¡¯re so excited to have you on board this boat to great content and adventure.¡± Mini-Devorah did a little dance on screen. Confetti rained down. Real Devorah just blinked. An internship? For a media corporation? ¡°Due to your lack of experience, you¡¯ll be compensated with experience!¡± More confetti. Devorah blinked. She had three degrees in higher education. ¡°Now, please follow along as little you goes through their first day at Barracuda. Along the way, you¡¯ll learn about our core tenets and values. We here at Barracuda are so excited to have you along with us as we have fun and make history! Remember- we¡¯re all a family here!¡± Barracuda sounded familiar to Devorah, but she couldn¡¯t place it. Meanwhile, mini-Devorah made her way to a cubicle. She said, ¡°I can¡¯t wait to learn about the core tenets of Barracuda! Thankfully there¡¯s a handy acronym to help remember it.¡± When she sat down, touchscreens surrounded her. Mini-Devorah put her hand on a touchscreen, and the screen in front of Devorah changed to reflect it. The word KILL appeared in big letters. The letters then separated to form a horrible kind of acrostic poem: KINDNESS COMES FIRST INTEGRATE WITH THE SYSTEM LOOKS ARE EVERYTHING LOVE THE CONSUMER As someone who had literally just been murdered, Devorah found the acronym very insensitive. The screen within a screen narrowed again to show mini-Devorah at her desk. ¡°Wow!¡± Mini-Devorah said, her voice deeply at odds with the photographed look of confusion on her face, ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to keep these in mind as I go about my day. Maybe you can help me make some choices?¡± Devorah literally could not think of anything she wanted to do less. Aside from maybe being murdered again, or seeing Henry, her murderer. Mini-Devorah, with her grimace and poorly fitted body, opened up a message on her screen. ¡°Oops!¡± She said. ¡°It looks like someone is saying mean things about Barracuda¡¯s programming online. How should I respond?¡± Three options popped up: REPORT THEM TO THE ADMIN RESPOND WITH KINDNESS, AND EXPRESS THAT YOU HOPE THAT THEY WILL ENJOY FUTURE PROGRAMMING CUSS AT THEM AND TELL THEM TO GO KILL THEMSELVES Devorah chose the second option. More confetti. Hurray. ¡°Great!¡± Mini-Devorah explained. ¡°With one choice, you embodied three of our core values! You should be so proud of yourself!¡± Then there was a pause. The music stopped. The screen flickered. And then everything went back to normal. ¡°Lucky for you, you¡¯ve already integrated into the system! We don¡¯t even need to go over our second tenet.¡± Already integrated? What did that- Oh. Right. Devorah was an AI. Of course she was already a part of the system. The simulacrum of Devorah on screen kept talking. The music kept playing. Infographics flashed across the screen. But Devorah saw none of it. She was already out of her body, but it was as if she was buried even further. The world was moving on without Devorah, and she couldn¡¯t do anything about it. Eventually, the twenty minutes of time came to an end. Devorah barely processed her mini-me and the cartoon managerial character coming back on screen, until they were joined by an entire team of others. Others who, just like Devorah, had hideous pictures attached to poorly fitted bodies- foreheads cropped out, chins lost to the ether, grimaces and smiles alike. But they were familiar faces. Even through the fog, Devorah could perceive a few of them. Bell and Eugenia who were long dead. Feniks, who had been first to be murdered in the game. And Henry, scowling at nothing. The cartoon manager spoke up, and finally, Devorah was able to listen. ¡°We here at Barracuda are looking forward to your contributions! And remember! We¡¯re all a family here!¡± All the cartoon characters from mini-Devorah to the cutesy version of her murderer jumped in the air as more confetti rained down. Then the screen disappeared. A loud creaking sound prevented Devorah from immediately falling prey to spiraling thoughts. There was another moment trapped in darkness, and then there it was. Light. Prologue Part Two As expected, it took no time for Dev¡¯s eyes to adjust. For someone who always had bad eyes and was lazy enough to never bother with corrective surgery, any kind of immediate clarity was a bit alarming. Dev already knew she was dead, intellectually. It was the rest of her that needed to catch up, nanobody included. Stepping into the light, Devorah found herself in a musty old parlor right out of the era she had spent years studying as a historian. Even still, it was unfamiliar to her, though the style of the anachronisms was very familiar. The space was as open as a room made to look antiquated could be. Artificial light shone in through a window, mimicking a warm afternoon. The furniture was sumptuous, a mix of styles popular through the eighteenth through twenty first centuries on Earth. A chinoiserie cabinet flanked a patterned, velvet couch. Rococo and Neo-Romantic chairs were spread around the room, some circling an early piano. The wallpaper matched the couch- an eerie design more in line with a haunted attraction at a theme planet than what Dev would guess was meant to be a nineteenth century living room. Yet it was not the room itself that wracked Devorah with a deep dread- it was the simulacrums of the people who were with her. She half expected it, after the end of the video, but it was still a shock. Much like herself, all of them looked as they did at their moment of death. They seemed to have memories and some kind of self control as well, based on the groups people stood in as well as the frankly kind of obnoxious sounds of Amina and Sophitty getting reacquainted with each other¡¯s tonsils. It was a farcical re-invention of the beginning of the other game she had been forced to participate in. The first time she had been alone, then suddenly with strangers. This time, those surrounding Dev were the furthest thing from strangers people could be. Devorah did a quick scan of the ghosts surrounding her. And locked eyes with Henry. Mostly. He only really had one eye left. It seemed that whatever killed him had crushed his head. The pit of dread within Devorah eased ever so slightly. She could breathe, though there was no longer any need for it. But the fact that she could again brought her relief. Henry was dead. He had been caught, and Anna wasn¡¯t here. Though, Devorah thought, growing sad again, Anna wasn¡¯t here. It wasn¡¯t Anna who bought time with her. What if Anna was still in the game? What if it hadn¡¯t ended? And what if- Once again, Devorah was broken out of her thoughts. This time from the feeling of someone barreling into her. ¡°Devorah!¡± Arms wrapped around Dev, strong enough that they lifted her off her feet. In a detached manner, she acknowledged that certain things could indeed touch her. Dev was glad to note she felt no lingering pain from her stab wound, even with the immense pressure. ¡°I¡¯m so happy to see you! And so sad to see you!¡± There was only one person that could be, and looking down confirmed it. Bellone, half human and half ostian, had skin streaked with orange and blue, like veins of precious gems in stone. In the short sleeve uniform shirt and shorts Bell favored, swathes of skin were visible. Devorah wriggled in the grip and turned to embrace her dead friend. Like Bell had said, it was both a joyous reunion and a time of deep mourning. If only Dev could feel the depths of those emotions as she used to. Was that an effect of becoming an AI? That had to be it. Bell gave her one last squeeze, then dropped Devorah back down. From there, she could see poor Albert and Eugenia flanking Bell. They made a funny group. Bell was taller than the average human and wore confidence like it was as easy. She had short blue hair and warm orange eyes, and one of her arms was slung across Albert¡¯s shoulders. As a man of average size, he looked quite small on Bell¡¯s arm. He seemed like he was trying to hide behind Bell, which Dev understood due to his current lack of dress. Usually in a full suit and hat, mustache groomed carefully, he was a mess in just his trousers. An autopsy ¡°Y¡¯ graced his chest like a tattoo. Then there was Eugenia. She wore the rope around her neck like it was the latest fashion. Her nightdress was clean, and thankfully Eugenia had been allowed to carry her Lenape cloak of iridescent turkey feathers even with her in death. Her long hair was tied back, and she watched Devorah with dark, sad eyes. ¡°Devorah.¡± She held out a hand, which Devorah took in two of her own. ¡°I had hoped I wouldn¡¯t see you here.¡± Devorah squeezed Eugenia¡¯s hand. ¡°You¡¯re lucky I¡¯m feeling very emotional right now otherwise I¡¯d be yelling at you like hell.¡± It wasn''t warm, not exactly, but the pulse of movement was like a balm on Dev''s soul. The last time she held Eugenia''s hand, it had been hard with the cold of death. Eugenia¡¯s lip quirked up. ¡°That should be my line.¡± ¡°Have you been here long?¡± Albert shook his head. ¡°We just got here. Er, wherever here is. And did you notice that you came from the wall? Did we also come from the wall?¡± ¡°Enough of that for now!¡± Bell dragged Albert closer and pulled the group into a big hug. Devorah could feel a few sets of arms around her, and she felt her own hands brush Albert¡¯s back and the feathers of Eugenia¡¯s cloak. No physical warmth resulted from their closeness. But like breathing, it warmed Devorah anyway. ¡°We can figure out what¡¯s going on later. For now, I¡¯m just happy to be reunited with my friends.¡± Bell gripped them all tighter with a sniff, and Albert let out a soft ¡°oof.¡± Devorah allowed herself to be hugged. It was grounding, this kind physicality. More than anything, it made her feel like a person. After a few minutes, Bell released them. ¡°Wait!¡± Bell grabbed Devorah by the shoulder again and shook her like a doll. Dev allowed herself to be shaken. ¡°Dev? Where¡¯s your other half?¡± Devorah put her hand on top of Bell¡¯s, putting an end to the shaking. ¡°Hopefully far away from this hell.¡± Though her emotions were still calibrating, Devorah couldn''t let herself feel otherwise. Anna had to have made it. She had been sad when Eugenia, Albert, and Bell had died. But Anna? If anything happened to Anna... ¡°So she made it?¡± Albert offered a nervous smile. "I didn''t see her at the end of the film." Devorah¡¯s eyes wander towards Henry, alone in the corner. She didn''t want to think about that yet. She forced herself to meet Albert¡¯s eyes again. ¡°I think so. You guys just got here too, right? To this place, this¡­ room? And you saw the training video.¡± ¡°We did,¡± Eugenia confirmed. ¡°Then it¡¯s probably over and-¡± Devorah paused. ¡°Eugenia? Albert? Where do you think we are?¡± ¡°H-Heaven?¡± Albert said, mustache twitching with the effort. Bell cringed. Devorah did not relish being the one to amend this falsehood and was about to explain when once again, a new figure entered the room. When Bell moved to embrace Devorah, there was no sound as her boots met the floor. They had a presence, but there was no weight to their bodies. When this new figure entered the room and stood under one of the yellowing light fixtures, their steps made soft sounds. They cast a shadow. They were closer to a person than whatever Devorah had become. Even still, they were strange. This person looked like a young woman, both younger looking and shorter than Devorah. They were dressed similarly to a porcelain doll, awash in red fabrics, complete with ruffles and a bonnet. Puff sleeves connected to a bowed blouse, and the skirt could only keep its shape with the help of several petticoats. Her white hair was curled- not curly in the untamed way Devorah¡¯s hair grew naturally, but like straight hair forced to make perfect corkscrews all down her back. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Devorah felt a strange urge to turn away, but she looked at the girl head on. The girl¡¯s face was a perfect, painted mask of pale porcelain. One blue beaded tear rested permanently under her left eye. Suddenly, it felt like Devorah¡¯s world was about to collapse. The anachronistic setting, the doll woman. That''s why Barracuda was familiar. It was a media corporation, a parent company. There was only one explanation for what was happening, and she couldn¡¯t do it a second time. Not again. Not without Anna. Devorah waited for the pain of a too quickly beating heart, or a disorienting dizziness, but nothing came. This lack of physicality made her thoughts run even faster- would she be forced to kill these versions of her friends? Find revenge? Kill people that still lived, to take their place? ¡°God?¡± Albert asked. Bell tucked Albert behind her as the doll-thing laughed. It was high pitched and reverberated through the room, like a sweet little bell in a schoolyard. It lasted exactly five seconds, then cut off with no frills or lace attached. Just sudden silence. ¡°How sweet you are, Albert! Did you not ask this exact question last time?¡± The doll giggled again. And again, it lasted for a perfect five seconds. ¡°And once again, he is forced to be disappointed,¡± Devorah said. ¡°Though I must say, you¡¯re much less magnificent than the last one.¡± The doll did not move, but its eyes began to track Devorah. ¡°How cruel! Don¡¯t you think I¡¯m cute?¡± Devorah did not bother to answer. The doll continued. ¡°I am very cute. And I am much more helpful than the last one. I have hands, not hooves, see!¡± It held up porcelain hands ensconced in white lace. ¡°How do you plan to help?¡± A new voice from another corner of the room- Henry. Devorah allowed herself to close her eyes for a brief moment and look away. ¡°Will you place the knives in our hands?¡± ¡°Can ghosts even hold knives?¡± Devorah heard Albert mutter. If Devorah had any control over the situation, ghosts would hold knives. Ghosts would hold knives and be able to stab other ghosts. Perhaps right in between the folds where Henry¡¯s waistcoat buttoned up. Pushed up from the floorboards and into his fashionable dandy shoes. Even through bright brown eyes or carefully styled blond hair wrecked by his death. Devorah wasn¡¯t picky when it came to the idea of never having to see her murderer again. Had it been a knife that night? Devorah couldn¡¯t recall. She remembered pain, and running, but everything was so jumbled up in her head. Still, she forced herself to remember one thing- the doll knew about their previous situation. More importantly, how much did it know? And how did it become acquainted with that knowledge? Devorah had her suspicions, but knew that it wasn¡¯t the time to come to conclusions, nor to indulge in fantasies of violence that could never be. Now was the time for gathering information. Devorah took a few steps back, edging close to a wooden side table with a telephone made of cool metal and brass art deco lines. She reached out for the handle of the phone. As expected, her hand phased through. Centering herself, she dialed back into the conversation just as Eugenia joined in. ¡°I have no intention to kill, nor do I have any intention to be killed. Peacefully, I will refrain from competition.¡± Eugenia neatly tucked in her skirt and took a seat on one of the ornately patterned velvet chairs. ¡°You think you have a choice? Oh, that¡¯s cute!¡± The doll squeaked. Eugenia inclined her head. ¡°I cannot control what others do, but I can control my own actions.¡± Behind Devorah''s eyes was a flash of memory, of the body of Eugenia hanging from the rafters. There was a choking sound. As Bell turned to look at her with concern, Devorah realized it came from her own throat. ¡°Genie¡¯s right!¡± With that nickname, there was only one person that voice could belong to- Sophitty. Her girlfriend Amina hadn¡¯t lasted long after Sophitty¡¯s death, but even still it had felt wrong to see Amina listlessly wandering without her, a half unable to become whole. Dev was rather fond of Amina, in her own way. She was one of the few players from Dev¡¯s own time that Dev would have found herself befriending outside any circumstance that forced trauma bonding. Amina was a documentarian. Viciously, she documented the world around them as if the order to do so came from a higher power. While Devorah tried to analyze the world through what the dead left behind, Amina sought to find answers in real time. Devorah had a feeling that Amina was here for the exact same reason Devorah was. Which was¡­ The headache again. Devorah was suddenly glad she no longer had a stomach. If she had, the pain would have been brutal enough to make her vomit. Even beyond that, her frustration with it was coming close enough to do the same. Either way, Sophitty was crossing the room to join Eugenia, dragging Amina behind her by the hand. Bell tucked Albert a little further behind her at their approach. Sophitty stood behind the chair and crossed her arms. Even with Eugenia sitting, Sophitty still barely crested over the top of Eugenia¡¯s head. Still, Devorah wished she was just a bit shorter, enough to hide what Devorah was quickly realizing would now be the sharp angle at which Sophitty¡¯s head rested. Even in this approximation of death, no one cared to clean up the mess that was once Sophitty¡¯s neck. It was upsetting to look at as she came close- masses of uneven flesh and frozen rivulets of blood barely held together by a few small sutures. The back of her ginger hair was matted together with blood, and her fashionable dress had its neon streaks similarly muted under dried blood. Softly, Amina supported Sophitty¡¯s head up with her own free hand. Where Sophitty was small, Amina was tall. Where Sophitty was soft and feminine, Amina was hard and butch. Dev thought they were very sweet together. ¡°This time, I¡¯ll protect you, Soph,¡± Amina said. The doll¡¯s head tilted. ¡°Will you? As well as you did last time?¡± The mood, already tense, worsened considerably. Devorah could feel the air being sucked out of the room. Amina grit her teeth. They were still wet with phantom blood set at the time of her death. ¡°Not to worry.¡± The doll waved a dainty, lily-white hand. ¡°It is not as if you will be seeing much of your paramour. I will be separating you two, of course.¡± This caught Devorah¡¯s interest. From the moment the game had started until Sophitty¡¯s death, Sophitty and Amina rarely left each other¡¯s side. In a normal game, movement was typically unrestricted. You could go where you liked, with whoever you liked. Was this to be a game centered on isolation? No. That would be boring. Teams, maybe? Unless¡­ ¡°No!¡± Someone screamed, breaking Devorah from her nervous reverie. It was Sophitty, and she was doing her best to hold back Amina, who had grabbed a table lamp and was attempting to charge the doll with it. Amina''s face had warped. No longer the soft thing from when she looked at Sophitty, hers was the face of a wild beast that knew it was cornered. Amina was fast and strong, used to carrying heavy equipment and traversing dangerous environments. She broke from Sophitty''s grip and charged, the base of the lamp creaking under her grip. Yet once Amina was within three feet of the doll, she froze as if turned to stone. As if someone had pressed pause. Gasps and muttered confusion sounded, but Devorah turned her attention to the doll. The doll¡¯s eyes, which had previously been black, looked different. There was a ring around her pupils in the shape of a gear. Every few seconds, the gears turned like clockwork. Then they reversed. With them, Amina moved backwards. It was as if someone was rewinding an old film. From leaning forwards to straightening her back to sliding backwards like a dance, Amina was being sent back in time until she eventually put the lamp back on the table and froze again. Sophitty watched in undisguised horror, hand pressed to her mouth. Devorah¡¯s head pounded. ¡°Do not worry,¡± the doll said. Her voice was high and soft. It called for attention in a manner that should have been impossible. ¡°Amina can still hear me, as well as the others who have temporarily been paused.¡± Others? Sure enough, when Dev looked around the room there was a whole host of frozen people. Eugenia in the process of standing, Henry looking for his own makeshift weapon. Even sweet, protective Bell looked ready to pounce. Devorah forced herself to breathe in, out. The headache was growing stronger, but the movement grounded her. ¡°This meeting will be brief. I am very busy, you know,¡± the doll said. She paused, almost as if assuming there would be some response. Devorah herself did nothing, trying to focus on listening while her head pounded. ¡°As you likely already know, you are dead.¡± The start of a very familiar speech once given by a very different figure echoed in Devorah¡¯s head. As some of you may know, you should be dead. ¡°This is not a second chance.¡± This is your second chance. ¡°The theme is haunted house. Late nineteenth century, early twentieth century Earth. Just like your first game!¡± The place? London. The year? 1900. ¡°Your role will be as ghosts- you¡¯ll likely be released after the third murder or so to keep things interesting. Depending on audience and sponsor reaction, your roles will be supplemented or reduced from there.¡± You have been cast as detectives, each with a foil. There are killers among you. Your role will be to investigate and discover them after the deed is committed. After the deed is committed? Anna asked. ¡°But for now, you¡¯ll all be set on sleep mode until we¡¯re ready for you! There will be more instructions when you¡¯re turned on again. Sweet dreams!¡± We can¡¯t give away the game just yet. Be patient, darling. The show is just getting started. Chapter One Devorah flickered into existence like a lamp just switched on. Half expecting to still be in the parlor, she looked around. There were two immediate noticeable differences. The first was an ever present nagging at the back of her mind. A little presence that said open me! Pay attention to me! Hello! Like she had a mailbox attached to her brain. Devorah decided to ignore it for the time being. The second was that her surroundings had changed. Devorah was alone, and in another mishmash of an accurate set designer¡¯s worst nightmare. It seemed to be some kind of office, and one that clearly resonated with the room she had been in earlier. One wall was completely lined with books, which upon closer inspection were in a dense mix of languages and forms of binding. All were aged, whether by time or from matches and liberally applied citric acid. The others were stacked with shelves of all kinds of strange paraphernalia, but on a quick glance seemed to primarily follow a nautical and whaling theme. There¡¯s a flash of pain in warning- or perhaps in sympathy for the whale. Dev wasn¡¯t sure. Either way, she allowed the tips of her fingers to trace the line of book spines all the way to the end. Devorah decided to turn her attention to the desk at the end of the room. That little box in her subconscious was still nagging her, but she pushed it aside again. A pair of thick-rimmed glasses sat on the desk. The frame was made from a metal synthesized from the stone under Samaria¡¯s deep sands. The first of their kind had been round, the same color as Devorah¡¯s eyes and carefully chosen by a woman with those same honey brown irises. Devorah had sat on a small, uncomfortable chair in a bright room as that woman slid them on her face. Devorah knew that pair on the desk well. They were her own glasses. They were an expensive pair. Devorah had opted for a new, more academic style after she was accepted to her graduate studies program. She had been willing to pay for a cheaper pair made of synthetic frames with her meager allotment, but Devorah¡¯s mother insisted on covering the costs. Devorah knew it was strange to be reliant on glasses these days. Most parents had their children¡¯s eyes surgically fixed when they began showing signs of weak vision. But Dev¡¯s mom, she had wanted it to be her own choice, when Dev was old enough to make an informed decision on her own body. The idea of something foreign entering her, changing her¡­ Devorah was never comfortable with it, even if it would have made her life easier. Maybe that made her a bit of a luddite, but that never bothered Devorah much. That could have been one of the things that drew her to history in the first place, that old-fashioned sensibility. Yet when Sophitty first saw Devorah, she assumed that Devorah wore glasses for the aesthetic. To look more professorly, Sophitty had said. When Devorah thoughtlessly corrected her with a ¡°professorial¡± Sophitty insisted it only proved her point. Devorah felt naked without them. Thankfully, the frames were still intact. The glass, too. Aside from a deep brown, crusty stain ruining the left lens. Probably blood. Hopefully dirt. Dev reached down to pick them up and her hand phased through it. Just like with the phone. But somehow, Amina had been able to lift that lamp. Not that she was able to get very far with it. It was still more than Dev could do. Amina was able to do a lot of things Dev couldn¡¯t do. Pick things up, actually be able to wear pants in this awful afterlife, get a girlfriend.. Devorah shook her head. Enough moping! There was more to accomplish. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Like testing the boundaries of her abilities. When she had first come to, she had been unable to walk through the walls of her holding area. There were limits to her incorporeality, likely programmed into her very cell-like bots that made up the illusion of her. But there was a chance to be solid. To be person-like, if not entirely human again. There was a hint of humanity in being able to hug her friends again- Bell and Eugenia, along with Albert who had not exactly been a friend though Devorah mourned his death. With trepidation, Devorah eyed the oak double doors at the end of the study. This was it- the truest possible test of her limitations. If she could pass through the doors, she could investigate her situation further. And reunite with her friends, of course. An alliance with Bell, Eugenia and Albert wouldn¡¯t be the worst case scenario. Bell was stronger than most humans and, as a navigator, had great spatial awareness. Eugenia was a master of puzzles and wordplay, and Albert¡¯s medical knowledge, while dated, was a great help. Not to brag, Devorah was pretty good at research too. There was really only one element missing from a perfect team line-up. Someone that was good with people. Not kind or friendly. No. Someone good at spotting lies. Someone persuasive. Someone who knew how to get people to talk. Someone like Anna. Devorah closed her eyes. It was better this way. No matter how much Devorah wished Anna was here, she couldn¡¯t wish death on her. Not after she gave her life to secure Anna that chance to live in the future. Devorah opened her eyes, meeting the double doors again. Steeling herself with unneeded breath, Devorah took the first halting step in the direction of the doors. There was no sound of the sole of her foot hitting the wooden floor, or of any kind of warning noise to stop her progression. Bolstered, she took another step. And another. Devorah kept walking forward, speed and confidence increasing each time. Only once her guard came down, Devorah smacked into an invisible wall. She hadn¡¯t even reached the double doors. Rubbing her nose, Devorah considered the invisible wall. She backed up a few steps and went forward again, bumping her forehead this time. Yes, still there. Huffing, Devorah inched her way to the boundary. When she felt its presence, this time Devorah tentatively reached out with one of her arms. Strangely enough, her arms could pass through the boundary while her head and nose could not. Once her arm was fully extended, it hit another invisible boundary. With the sensitive pads of her fingers, Devorah couldn¡¯t exactly feel anything stopping her. It was just air. That meant it was her own programming that was stopping her from moving. But why couldn¡¯t she reach the doors? Was this a way to keep her bound to this little office? There wasn¡¯t much more she could do about that, at least for the moment. Devorah retreated to the desk with her pair of glasses. With a huff, she sat down on the mahogany chair behind the desk, remembering how Eugenia had sat in the parlor. Devorah could feel the weight of the heavy burgundy upholstery under her ass. Devorah fell forward and let her forehead smack the desk. With a sound that was half groan and half muffled scream, Devorah lamented the contradictory rules for ghosts. Yeah, it would be annoying if they couldn¡¯t sit down, and it would be even more annoying if they were constantly falling through the floorboards. But ugh, what Dev wouldn¡¯t give for a rulebook. AI Ghosts 101- here¡¯s what you can touch and also here¡¯s why you keep getting weird headaches triggered by the most random things. Oh, and here¡¯s some free therapy because clearly being murdered is pretty traumatic! The mailbox in her head rattled as if responding to her train of thought. Right. That was a thing that was there. Devorah slammed her head against the desk again. She totally should have checked her messages first. But how to do it? ¡°Mailbox?¡± Devorah said. No response. Eyes closed, Devorah focused on manifesting the image of a box. Nothing. Then she tried a messaging window. Still nothing. Dev cursed herself for being so stubborn. Neural messaging had grown in popularity over the past few years, but once again Devorah had been too paranoid to get anything installed in her brain. Maybe if she had, she would know how to open instant messages with this new body forced on her. At least she wasn¡¯t alone in this. Dev would be willing to put money down on some of the historic dead being in an even worse position than her. Albert probably hadn¡¯t even realized that he even received a message, assuming one had been sent to every ghost. The notifications were obvious enough, though¡­ Oh! ¡°Open notifications.¡± Chapter Two Success! Opening notifications worked! Dev allowed herself a moment of celebration, then she cringed. Oof, Albert was never going to figure this out. But that didn¡¯t matter- Albert wasn¡¯t here so Dev couldn¡¯t help him. Yet. There were two notifications. Time to get cracking. Devorah mentally selected the first one, which was dated to the twentieth of Elul, 7094. Kind of them, to allow her brain to use the calendar from her home planet. It took Devorah a minute, but she was able to adjust the date to the common calendar. The common year was likely just 3334. Devorah tried to stay on task, but allowed herself a moment of sweet relief. The year was 3334. Devorah died in early 3333. She was only missing one year. Just one year. What could happen in a year? Nothing too crazy. Surely her family was still alive back on Samaria, and if Anna made it out then it meant she was still out there too, but where could she go? Would Devorah¡¯s family help her, take her in, guide her? Anna was smart and quick, but even she would struggle to adjust to a world over a thousand years past what she knew. Damn. Dev needed to calm down. Her chest felt impossibly tight and her eyes couldn¡¯t focus on the message in front of her. She squeezed her eyes closed. Counted to ten. Forced herself to breathe, take breath in nonexistent lungs. What was even the point of all this? Why even bother to calm down when she was stuck here? Stuck in this shitty office in a fake haunted house? A ghostly puppet in a performance, strings pulled by¡­ The breath Devorah was holding escaped her as it felt like she was smacked in the head. Ugh, that headache again. At least the sudden sharpness of it shocked Devorah back into herself. Steeling her nerves, Devorah read the first message. Hello Devorah Hazan, Welcome to your notifications! Congrats on figuring out how to open them. This box will be where you will receive messages and updates regarding your status and situation. There is also a chance that new features will be implemented, and information on them will also be found here. Please check back regularly. We wouldn¡¯t want you to miss anything important! Thank you for reading! -Riley Brand Partnership Manager Champion''s League Regarding her status and situation, huh? Devorah wasn¡¯t sure she liked the sound of that. And by the looks of the italics in her name, this message was probably sent to all the ghosts en masse. Hopefully they wouldn¡¯t be treated as a unified group. ¡°Reply.¡± A window popped up, empty and ready to be written in. Devorah grinned. Time to start a rapport with this Riley person. Thank you so much for the information, Riley. I greatly appreciate you taking the time to help me settle in. I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day. It wouldn¡¯t be good to come on too strong. Devorah hoped she achieved friendly, but not too friendly. This was a possible out to the real world outside of this hell. She didn¡¯t want to take too many risks with it, even if Riley turned out to be a dead end. Devorah opened up the next notification. This one was dated to the fifth of Cheshvan, 7095. Dev missed her own new year, but it was still 3334 in the common calendar. About a month had passed between notifications. Returning Players, Welcome back to the Champion''s League. Though you will not be participating in the game as a player and possible champion, we are pleased to have your cooperation. This game is set in a haunted house, and you have been selected to be a ghost. Your role will be to provide some good scares and, on occasion, further the plot of the setting. If you are chosen to have a character role, we will reach out to you separately. Originally, you all were going to appear after the third murder and investigation period. However, after the second murder and first successful investigation, several players located and utilized a ouija board. They were attempting to contact the victim of the second murder. We couldn¡¯t just let this chance pass us by! A haunting as a result of a failed ouija board session makes for perfect entertainment! This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Scaring the players who activated the ouija board will be paramount. Their information will be attached to this notification. To facilitate your role as ghost, each day you will receive two ¡°power charges.¡± Each charge will allow you to do one thing from the list below: As the game progresses, if the ghosts are well received, you may receive more ¡°power charges¡± per day, or get upgraded in other ways. Be sure to work hard! Here are some more rules to keep in mind before you get started: Thank you again! You¡¯ll be hearing from us again soon. -Your Host That was a lot to take in. Devorah took a moment to process before she would go on to study the unfortunate souls who were unlucky enough to trigger a side plot. And oof, was there a lot to process. So twice a day, for now at least, Devorah would get thirty seconds to make an actual mark on the world around her. Unfortunately, there was no way to tell time. At least there was a window in the office she was stuck in. Outside, likely artificial sun was cresting over neatly trimmed green grass. Devorah was kind of hoping it would have been night, so she¡¯d have more wiggle room to test out the charges. Saving them for now would be the best idea. Being one of the first ghosts in the manor to use them would get her attention, which could mean more information. Speaking of information, Devorah picked up on one tidbit from the message that buoyed her spirits. Do not tell living players who the reigning champion is. Two parts of that caught Devorah¡¯s interest. Do not tell was the first; while there are ways of communicating that don¡¯t include speaking, it does imply that either speaking is free, and not included in charges, or that speaking will be added in a later update. The second? Do not tell living players. Devorah was alone now, but she probably wouldn¡¯t be alone forever. This made something deep within Devorah unclench and release, as if a knot was being unwound. This wasn¡¯t an ideal existence, far from it, but there were things she could look forward to in her future. Of course, there were also the rules she¡¯d have to follow. Dev sighed. Never fancying herself as a rule breaker or troublemaker, Devorah was fine with her assignment as a boring academic. There was just one problem with that, though. Devorah was really, really, reaaaaaallly nosy. It made her a great researcher. When you¡¯re nosy about living people, you¡¯re intrusive or a snoop. But busybodying around dead people? That¡¯s the making of a great historian. Either way, Devorah knew what was good for her. She was going to stay out of trouble! Or more accurately, she was going to make just enough trouble to get some attention. She opened up the attached list of players to haunt. That would be a good start. It revealed a series of pictures, with no other information. A bit annoying, but Dev could work with that. The first was a pale young man with glasses and sandy hair. His costuming indicated that he was likely from the twentieth or twenty first century on Earth. Based on the photos, he seemed to have an excitable countenance, if a bit anxious looking around the eyes. Dev snorted, she could relate to that. Still, in the photo of the inciting incident, his hands looked steady around the ouija board¡¯s planchette. Next was a woman who looked to be a little older. Devorah couldn¡¯t place her clothes, but her long blouse and skirt indicated that she was from an earlier time period than the first man. She had brown skin and dark hair neatly braided and folded over to create two horn-like shapes. The jewelry she wore glinted in the photos. She didn¡¯t seem to be particularly worried in the photo where she partook in the ouija board, more curious. After that was another young man who seemed to be from the twentieth or twenty-first century, though Devorah was leaning more towards the twentieth with how colorful his clothes were. This young man had a muscular build, his light brown skin gleaming with health. In every picture except for one, he wore a bright smile. That was the picture of him near the ouija board- he looked like he was about to piss himself in terror. The next series made Devorah laugh out loud. It was another young man, dressed exactly like a pilgrim from an American Thanksgiving event. That wasn¡¯t even the funny part. In the picture of the ouija incident, he seemed to be crouching behind a couch, hat and eyes barely peeking over the furniture. He was a snoop! Another relatable character. But it was the last series of pictures that Devorah found the strangest. The young girl captured within was likely from around Devorah¡¯s own time. Either not entirely human, or a victim of intense genetic engineering. The poor thing had cat ears. And a tail. And oof, yup, definitely engineering- the game put her in a little maid outfit. A catgirl in a maid costume. Dev looked down at her own outfit. And she had complained about a beige sweater and skirt! But then Devorah heard something she hadn¡¯t expected. And maybe wasn¡¯t even ready for. There was a voice, saying ¡°let¡¯s look in here!¡± And the double doors opened. Chapter Three Two people stepped inside Devorah¡¯s office. What a cruel mockery of the office hours she held as a free person. The first, she recognized immediately. In fact, Devorah had just been staring at his picture. It was the young man from the first set of photos, the one with pale skin and glasses. Now that he was closer, Devorah was able to get a better look at his costume and based on the dull colors of his clothes and white shoes, Devorah could pin him to the early twenty-first century. The second was someone entirely new. She looked much more settled in the setting of this haunted house. Her simple black dress and unstained apron made her look like a typical servant in a grand house of the nineteenth century. Devorah cast a quick prayer towards the catgirl- the girl in front of her was clearly a real maid of some sort, and she was allowed to at least have decent clothes. Not a skimpy imaginary maid costume. Furthermore, her red curls were stuffed under a period-appropriate bonnet. ¡°Hi, hello!¡± Devorah said, waving her arms around. ¡°I think we¡¯re the first ones to get here, Georgie!¡± The man said. Devorah cursed under her breath. True, she hadn¡¯t expected them to see her or hear her, but the reality of it still stung. For good measure, Devorah jumped up and down a few times. Still nothing. She hadn¡¯t even disturbed the thin layer of dust covering the room. The girl, Georgie, coughed neatly into her sleeve. ¡°Looks like it! It¡¯s so damn dusty here¡­¡± Devorah ran up to her boundary, just a few feet away from them, and screamed right in their faces. No response. ¡°Quiet, too,¡± the man said. ¡°Won¡¯t be for long,¡± Georgie said. ¡°We better start looking around. I don¡¯t want to leave Gabe on guard for too long.¡± ¡°Worried he¡¯ll get bored?¡± The man laughed. Georgie laughed with him, then shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m more worried he¡¯ll go soft and let someone pass.¡± ¡°Good point. Georgie, you start on that side. I¡¯ll start here.¡± The two of them fanned out in a practiced motion and began quickly going through the office. Devorah noted they started on the perimeter- a decent strategy, but the people in control rarely hid notes in books anymore. There were just too many to go through. Devorah watched them rifle through, barely putting anything back. Amateurs. Others will know the place was already looted. As they continued, she considered using one of her charges. The man was one of her targets, after all. Maybe she could grab a book and fling it at him? Manifest and keep flailing her arms? Devorah suddenly wished she had consumed more horror content. Then the door opened again. ¡°Hello!¡± The woman who opened it smiled at them, dimpling her cheeks. ¡°Mind if I search with you two? Gabe said it was okay!¡± This new woman was a Black woman with a kind smile. Her hair was pulled out of her round face, tied back. It made her face look like the center of the flower and her hair the soft petals surrounding it. She was just a few inches smaller than the man, but taller than Georgie. A pair of work gloves were sticking out of the cargo pants she wore, and the sleeves of her pink sweater had small dirt stains. The man rubbed his face with a groan while Georgie just laughed. ¡°Come join us,¡± Georgie answered the woman¡¯s smile with one just as welcoming. ¡°I don¡¯t think we actually ever got the chance to have a real conversation, yeah?¡± ¡°Is now really the time?¡± The man groaned. Devorah snickered, she was torn between agreeing with him and just wanting to see what kind of information she could harvest from this conversation. Georgie shrugged. ¡°Now¡¯s as good as ever, Jacob.¡± Ah, so his name was Jacob, then. Jacob, Jacob, Jacob. Target number one. Jacob had the energy of a shaking Italian greyhound. Not unfamiliar to Devorah, but easy to exploit. Once this conversation was done, she was definitely using a charge to mess with him. Jacob rolled his eyes. ¡°We don¡¯t want to lose time, we just figured out the code and others might start poking their noses in.¡± He looked at the new woman. A nonverbal like her echoed through the room. Her smile dropped. ¡°I do not want to cause any trouble. I can go-¡± Sticking her tongue out at Jacob, Georgie went forward and shook her hand. ¡°Good to officially meet you. I¡¯m Georgiana, but please keep calling me Georgie.¡± ¡°And I am Kefilwe.¡± Finally, a name! If this cast of characters was close to the size of Devorah¡¯s, she¡¯d have a lot of names and faces to juggle. Best to focus on her targets for now. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°You come from a time where women can wear pants?¡± Georgie asked with an expression full of yearning. Devorah longed for a pair of pants too. ¡°I do! I¡¯d offer to let you borrow some, but this is the only pair I have right now. I wish I could change out of my field clothes!¡± A tentative smile came back to Kefilwe¡¯s face. ¡°Your field clothes? You work with plants or something, right?¡± Jacob, who was supposedly mostly ignoring the conversation, opened a new book and paged through. ¡°Your clothes look similar to the stuff from my time. When and where are you from? I¡¯m from 2020, New York. Georgie¡¯s from the Victorian era.¡± Devorah congratulated herself on the accurate guesses of when they were from. Kefilwe¡¯s eyes lit up again. For all that Devorah was trying to focus on Jacob, she found Kefilwe sweet looking. ¡°We are close in time, yes! I¡¯m from Botswana, in the year 2084.¡± ¡°Funny how that¡¯s considered close in time.¡± Jacob said. ¡°It definitely is, when you consider us and the Roman,¡± Georgie said. Or Devorah and her time. ¡°Anyway,¡± Jacob continued, ¡°want to help us find anything interesting in here? Might as well keep working. I don¡¯t think you¡¯d be dangerous to us.¡± ¡°Gabe is just outside too,¡± Georgie pointed out, then coughed neatly into her sleeve. ¡°Ah, yes! Mind if I just look outside?¡± Kefilwe motioned for them to follow her to look out the window. Devorah followed them over, thankful it managed to be within her boundary. The view outside the window was rather plain- just a portion of a driveway flanked by little roadside flowers and old trees. Georgie spoke up. ¡°I bet that this window is out by the front of the house. This way the housekeeper would know if someone was coming up to the manor.¡± Looks like Devorah was right again- Georgie did have experience working in a big house. ¡°It looks paved,¡± Jacob added. ¡°That means cars, not horses, were coming up to the house.¡± ¡°Right! But that¡¯s not the most interesting part!¡± Kefilwe pointed. Jacob frowned as he looked harder for what he could be missing. ¡°Ah,¡± Georgie said. She reached into a pocket on her skirt and pulled out a handkerchief. Deftly wrapping up her right fist, Georgie nodded. Then she punched the window with the full force of her fist. Jacob gasped and ducked, trying to avoid shattered glass. But there wasn¡¯t any- no glass, no blood, just a disappointed Georgie unrolling her fist from her handkerchief. Her hand didn¡¯t even look bruised. Devorah, just as shocked as Jacob, let out a startled laugh. Georgie looked delicate, but it seemed she was anything but. Devorah could respect that. ¡°I guess we need someone stronger,¡± Georgie said, shaking out her fist. ¡°It didn¡¯t feel like normal glass.¡± ¡°Georgie, don¡¯t do that again!¡± Jacob took a few deep breaths. ¡°Warn me next time, at least.¡± ¡°Sorry Jacob, I didn¡¯t mean to frighten you,¡± Georgie said, looking down. ¡°Well,¡± Kefilwe butted in, ¡°that wasn¡¯t what I wanted to explore, but that sure was interesting!¡± Georgie looked back up, quickly much less contrite than she was seconds ago. ¡°You mean there¡¯s something else?¡± ¡°You see the flowers?¡± Kefilwe asked. Devorah leaned forward towards the window for a second look. There wasn¡¯t anything special about them. They looked like red roses. ¡°The roses?¡± Jacob asked. ¡°Huh,¡± Georgie leaned forward too. ¡°That¡¯s unusual. Roses usually go in the garden. Plus, they¡¯re actually pretty delicate flowers. I didn¡¯t know they could thrive on the roadside.¡± Kefilwe looked at Georgie with a smile and raised eyebrows. ¡°Exactly! I¡¯m impressed! Do you have experience with flowers?¡± ¡°Nah,¡± Georgie blushed, ¡°I was just friendly with the gardeners. Do you have experience with flowers?¡± ¡°I do! Kind of!¡± Kefilwe seemed proud of herself. ¡°I work in conservation, with a focus on botanical preservation. In other words, I try to help save endangered plants!¡± ¡°Endangered from what?¡± Georgie asked. Jacob grimaced. ¡°Humans. But that¡¯s a conversation for another time.¡± Devorah closed her eyes. There wasn¡¯t much dry vegetation left on Earth by her own time. It was a pity that Kefilwe¡¯s life work spelled out to nothing, in the end. ¡°So what¡¯s weird about them? Are roses endangered in the future or something?¡± Jacob asked. ¡°Not as far as I know! And it¡¯s not the existence of roses that¡¯s strange- it''s their variation. Those aren¡¯t real roses.¡± What? Devorah squinted at them through the window. They were red, and the petals inside folded out in a star-like shape. They looked like weird roses, maybe, but definitely roses. But there was something about them¡­ ¡°Those are definitely roses.¡± Jacob said. Georgie looked between Jacob and Kefilwe. ¡°What makes you say they aren¡¯t roses?¡± ¡°Those are actually camelias, and they¡¯re called Middlemist Reds. But despite the name, they aren¡¯t supposed to be a brilliant red- more like a deep pink.¡± Kefilwe joins Jacob in squinting. ¡°It¡¯s almost like someone bred them to become more red. But that would be impossible. The last Middlemist Reds died out in the 2030¡¯s.¡± Bred them to be more red¡­ Red roses¡­ A sharp pain behind her eyes shook Devorah from the window. That headache again. Why did it keep coming back? ¡°It¡¯s not so impossible, is it? I mean, I should have died before 2030, and we¡¯re talking now,¡± Georgie interjected. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Kefilwe allowed, ¡°but even before they went extinct, they were very expensive.¡± The pain made her whimper. Devorah pulled herself away from the conversation, head pounding. It was like there was a man with a small hammer pounding on her skull. She sat by the desk, near her glasses. ¡°So why would they line a driveway?¡± Georgie wondered. Chapter Four Devorah allowed herself a moment to be impressed with Kefilwe and Georgie before she shook off any thoughts about flowers. Why had some stupid flowers triggered her weird, new headache disorder? Even having headaches in the first place didn¡¯t make sense. Devorah didn¡¯t even have a brain anymore! There wasn¡¯t anything left to feel pain. Just a bunch of nanobots. No flesh, no blood. Even through the pain, Devorah could acknowledge that this was a new way of looking at possible clues. Every little thing is important, yes, but so is the wisdom to know to focus on avenues that could actually give you results. Devorah never would have looked at a flower and said oh yes! This flower is the weird thing. Who knows! Maybe it would help them reach some sort of conclusion. But then Devorah remembered it wasn¡¯t really her problem any more. What should the dead care for the mysteries of the living? Her headache abated as she sunk down to the floor. By the window, they were still talking about the pseudo-roses. Devorah¡¯s grandmother had always loved flowers. It was a waste of water to grow most flowers on Samaria, so on special occasions Bubbe would buy dried leaves from other planets and press them into little trinkets. Bubbe said their ancestors used to plant trees on holidays and for special occasions. Earth trees wouldn¡¯t grow well at home. When Devorah went to school in the University of Aeble on Earth, there were a few trees planted in special parks around the city. A few even had special plaques, noting that they had been grown from seeds taken from trees in the park that had dominated the center of the city Aeble had grown atop of. Even in the harshest desert there was life. Even in the deepest ocean there was life. There was nothing left alive about Devorah. Hands shaking, she pushed herself up from the floor. Screw it. Devorah hadn¡¯t wanted to use one of her charges so early, but she was desperate to find a way to take her mind off this hell. Anything to get those three to stop talking about flowers. She marched herself up to the bookshelf. Not even looking down, she focused on her hand and grabbed the spine of one of the books. Her hand passed through. Devorah cursed. She had hoped intention would be enough to activate the charge. Did she have to say what she wanted to do out loud, as if she was in an anime? ¡°Charge!¡± Her hand passed through again. ¡°Charge!¡± She cried at a higher pitch. Still nothing. Frustrated, Devorah grit her teeth. ¡°Fuck!¡± She slammed her hand against the side of the bookcase. The sound of a hard smack resounded through the room. In the corner of her eye, Devorah could see a countdown begin, starting from thirty and going down. There wasn¡¯t time to think. She smacked the bookshelf again, this time throwing her whole self into it. ¡°What was that?¡± Georgie said, her brow furrowed. She coughed. ¡°I hope Gabe isn¡¯t having trouble¡­¡± Jacob added. He extracted himself from the window and made to go towards the double doors. Devorah groaned in frustration. ¡°No!¡± Finally, she was able to grab a book. With five seconds left behind this charge, Devorah pulled her arm back and launched the book at Jacob. Devorah had never been much of an athlete, and it seemed that death did not remedy this flaw. The book fell short of Jacob by several feet. ¡°Huh?¡± Jacob swung his head around, looking from the doors to the book. ¡°How did this book get over here?¡± Damn it. He didn¡¯t look like someone who had just been spooked by a ghost. And a big goose egg of a zero flashed in the corner of Devorah¡¯s eye before disappearing. Despite the fact that she could no longer cry, Devorah felt choked up in the back of her throat. Her first charge, wasted. Her chance to start out this new life with a true bang, gone. But then Georgie spoke. Her eyes were wide, and her already pale skin was just a touch whiter. ¡°Jacob,¡± she said, haltingly, ¡°that book flew off the shelf.¡± Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. ¡°What?¡± ¡°It¡¯s true!¡± Kefilwe said, looking back and forth between the book and the shelf. ¡°It was like magic!¡± ¡°Magic isn¡¯t real,¡± Jacob shook his head. Kefilwe¡¯s lip curled up in an uneasy smile. ¡°I wasn¡¯t so sure myself, but this morning I had lunch with a Prussian nun and a plague doctor.¡± ¡°Good point,¡± Jacob said. There was a moment of quiet. ¡°What if it was a ghost?¡± Georgie asked, voice quivering. Devorah fist pumped. Success! ¡°Ghosts aren¡¯t¡­¡± Jacob paused. ¡°Okay, yeah, I don¡¯t want to fall into that trap either. Especially after last night.¡± ¡°What happened last night? Did you see a ghost?¡± Kefilwe asked. Georgie released her grip on the windowsill. ¡°Jacob and some of the others attempted a seance last night.¡± ¡°We used a ouija board,¡± Jacob clarified. ¡°That girl, you know, the one with the¡­¡± Jacob made weird little triangle symbols over his head, then stretched an arm behind him. Devorah thought he was probably trying to pantomime a representation of the catgirl. ¡°Ah.¡± Kefilwe nodded in recognition. ¡°Poor thing¡­ She really imprinted on Jacqueline.¡± Jacqueline was probably one of the recent dead. Devorah hoped if Jacqueline was murdered, the catgirl wasn¡¯t the one who found the body. She wondered who found her own body. ¡°Yeah. So when she found a ouija board in like, one of the other rooms, she asked a few of us if we wanted to see if we could talk to Jacqueline.¡± Jacob said. ¡°I said no, obviously.¡± Georgie grimaced, then coughed. ¡°I¡¯m no coward but I¡¯m not messing around with the dead.¡± Too late. Devorah laughed to herself. What if the dead want to mess with you? ¡°But I thought hey. We¡¯re in a haunted house, might as well, right?¡± Jacob said. ¡°See what would happen. The ouija board¡¯s gotta be there for a reason.¡± ¡°So what happened?¡± Kefilwe asked. ¡°A couple of us got together. Me, Brad, Xoco, her. Brad was pretty enthusiastic about it. Said he used them once or twice before with his frat.¡± Jacob said, then turned to Georgie to explain what a frat was. ¡°A frat is like a university party club.¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t sound too different from what the little lord of the manor got up to in his uni days.¡± Georgie commented. ¡°So anyway, we all get together around the board. She was trying to contact Jacqueline, and then we heard a weird thumping sound. Then all the lights blew out in the room!¡± Jacob said. Those all seemed to be things that could be controlled pretty easily. And it made sense, the people who ran these games loved a dramatic moment. ¡°Brad shrieked like a little girl.¡± Jacob laughed. Kefilwe nodded, and stroked her chin. ¡°Did anything happen to cause those occurrences?¡± ¡°Right, yeah. The uh, catgirl, kept asking if it was Jacqueline we were speaking to. The board was shooting out all kinds of weird words, but after like, the third time the catgirl asked, everything went weird.¡± Georgie¡¯s eyes pinched shut. ¡°Three times¡­ That feels important. Isn¡¯t that important to Christians?¡± ¡°Catholics,¡± Kefilwe corrected. ¡°They believe in the Holy Trinity. After three times, the ghost could have been making a mockery of it.¡± ¡°Are you not Christian, Georgie?¡± Jacob asked. ¡°Not really. I don¡¯t go to church or nothing.¡± Georgie shrugged. ¡°Kind of hard to believe in Jesus after everything I¡¯ve been through.¡± ¡°Even though you¡¯re from Victorian times?¡± Jacob frowned. Georgie gave him a confused look. ¡°Why should the queen have anything to do with that?¡± ¡°I think Jacob meant to say that, in our understanding of history, people from your time and place tend to be religious,¡± Kefilwe stepped in to explain. Georgie crossed her arms. ¡°Rude to assume like that. You want religious, go look for Gabe.¡± Based on what Devorah knew about history, if Jacob was truly from the 2020¡¯s in America, his own zeitgeist was likely to be much more concerned about religion. That was a bit past Devorah¡¯s historical expertise, as she was more concerned with periods of industrialization than periods of digitization, but the two often went hand in hand. The three continued their conversation about religion as Devorah let her mind drift back to the charge she just used. It wasn¡¯t a complete waste. The charge was a bit unpredictable, it seemed. The charge didn¡¯t react to any words as far as Devorah knew. It seemed to activate in response to intense emotion. Which, oof. Since she woke up in the manor, intense emotions weren¡¯t really Dev¡¯s strong suit. Maybe that was done on purpose? To make it harder to activate charges? That had to be it. Either way, while Devorah had trouble activating the charge at a precise moment, she was able to control how it manifested. Devorah wasn¡¯t sure if this was merely a coincidence, but it seemed to be that just focusing on a specific type of manifestation while charged would make it work. Devorah would have to do more testing to be sure. Chapter Five Eventually, Devorah watched the three come to a close on their conversation. They agreed to continue searching the room, following the pattern of starting at the perimeter and closing in. There was one anomaly, though. Georgie went over to the book Devorah managed to throw from the bookshelf. ¡°Hey, you think there¡¯s anything good in this?¡± Devorah walked to Georgie and leaned over, looking at the book over her shoulder. The cover was plain leather embossed with gold. It was probably just set dressing. When she opened it, the text seemed fairly standard. No obvious strange print or underlined portions. ¡°Is that the book the ghost threw?¡± Jacob stepped over and without warning, stood almost exactly where Devorah was. For less than a second, Devorah felt a strange pressure unlike any she had felt before. She could feel the places where she and Jacob intersected- shoulder to thigh. And it felt like falling into a wind tunnel, a propeller, a turbine. Like blinking out and into existence again. One second, and Devorah was there. The next, she was innumerable- nanobots flicking apart. And on the third she came together again about a foot away, as whole as someone like her could be. Something like her could be. Every time Devorah forgot she was dead, something else would happen to remind her. To reinforce it. She was invisible, and she was alone. ¡°I just got a weird chill up my spine,¡± Jacob said. Devorah could barely make the words out through the cotton in her ears. ¡°Do you think it was the ghost?¡± Georgie asked, eyes wide. Yes, it was the damn ghost. Devorah leaned over and wheezed silently. ¡°Are we sure it was a ghost?¡± Kefilwe asked. ¡°I know what I saw!¡± Georgie protested hotly. ¡°Or what I didn¡¯t saw!¡± ¡°See.¡± Jacob correctly halfheartedly. Georgie thrust the book into Jacob¡¯s hands. ¡°I know you want to see!¡± Kefilwe¡¯s head tilted. ¡°What did it say, Georgie?¡± As far as Devorah had seen, nothing of interest. Then she was practically exorcized into the ether so what did she really know. Interestingly, Georgie paused. Red faced, she looked towards Jacob. Then she coughed. ¡°Right!¡± Jacob said. ¡°Let¡¯s take a look.¡± Jacob read a page aloud, and as promised, there really was no obvious clue or even anything interesting. Slowly, the deep red faded from Georgie¡¯s cheeks as she looked anywhere aside from Jacob and the book. Kefilwe nodded, her hair bobbing with it. ¡°Seems like a normal book to me. Maybe a combination of unsteady, old furniture and a drafty house made it seem like a ghost threw it?¡± No! Devorah groaned, shaking off her unease from the whole dissolving situation. No, a ghost did throw it! ¡°Oh, hey! Maybe like, the ghost wanted us to look at the bookshelf or something?¡± Jacob offered, slamming the book closed. Even knowing it was just a useless prop book, Devorah winced. ¡°I totally felt a chill down my spine when I touched the book. That has to mean something. Right Georgie?¡± Georgie did not answer. ¡°Georgie?¡± Georgie¡¯s head was strangely contorted. She was leaning to the side, and her head was completely tilted towards the direction of the bookcase. For a moment, Devorah felt her heart freeze in her chest. Then Georgie straightened herself. ¡°I may be mad, but it looks like there¡¯s something on the bookshelf. Behind where the book was.¡± Devorah looked at Georgie like she grew a second head. There was no way. Devorah¡¯s luck had never been that good. Kefilwe went over to the shelf and looked in. ¡°Georgie¡¯s right! There¡¯s some kind of indent. Maybe if we¡­¡± Systematically, Kefilwe removed the books on the shelf and stacked them next to her. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Lo and behold, there was some kind of handle. Made of the same wood as the bookcase, it blended in near completely. The handle was almost more of an indent in the wood, the perfect shape for someone with a small hand to grab. Unthinking, Devorah reached out and went to grab the handle. Her hand passed through. She remembered herself and withdrew. ¡°A handle?¡± Kefilwe said. ¡°Look at that!¡± Jacob went over and tried to fit his hand in the indent, but it was too big to fit. Devorah was just glad that she had already moved out of the way. She wasn¡¯t looking to repeat the incident with dematerialization any time soon. ¡°Huh, my hand doesn¡¯t fit.¡± ¡°Let me try, then!¡± Kefilwe offered with a smile. Thankfully, her hand was small enough to fit into the indent and grab on. Jiggling the handle with a focused expression, Kefilwe moved it in all directions before sliding it to the left. The bookcase and the wall behind it moved, revealing a small, hidden room. While the office had a sense of luxury, this small room was nearly barren. All the furniture within was wooden, with no drapes or cushions to be found. The entrance to the cubby had small engravings of leaves interspersed with more roses. The ceiling was low, much lower than the ceiling in the office. ¡°What is this?¡± Kefilwe asked. ¡°A storage room?¡± ¡°Kind of reminds me of a priest hole.¡± Georgie said. ¡°A what?¡± ¡°Some of the old houses had them. It was for Catholics.¡± Georgie began to explain. ¡°Back when England became Protestant, a lot of the rich folk didn¡¯t want to convert. They kept being Catholic in secret. But sometimes there¡¯d be investigations into them. So if a priest was there while the cops were looking, there were little rooms and holes to hide them in. Make sure they weren¡¯t found.¡± ¡°It could also be a panic room,¡± Jacob added, stepping in. ¡°Like, for if they were going to be robbed or attacked.¡± It would also be a great tool for a locked room murder. There weren''t any in Devorah¡¯s game, but they were always popular. This would be a great set-up for one. Lock the office door, kill someone, then hide in the panic room. Wait for the body to be found, then sneak out once no one¡¯s looking. On the surface, Georgie, Jacob and Kefilwe didn¡¯t seem like murderers. But they could be hiding their true faces. Kefilwe studied the engravings. ¡°These leaves look like yew, maybe? And willow.¡± ¡°Do you know what they mean in plant language?¡± ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t! But we can go back into the main room and try and find a reference book? Though the library doesn¡¯t seem to be well organized.¡± Kefilwe hummed to herself. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best though! And I could always ask Nour or Mathilde, they might know!¡± Georgie coughed. ¡°I don¡¯t know how you can spend so much time with Nour, they¡¯re right scary.¡± Kefilwe laughed sweetly. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s just their costume! They¡¯re so kind and knowledgeable beneath the beak.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Georgie said, hesitant, ¡°they told me that my cough came from humors out of whack. Doesn¡¯t sound very knowledgeable to me.¡± Jacob shook his head. ¡°Georgie, we shouldn¡¯t judge people who come from less developed times. It¡¯s not their fault that they come from more primitive eras and don¡¯t have the education we do.¡± Georgie¡¯s face turned red again. She looked away. Based on her costume and the fact that she worked as a maid in a manor house, Devorah would bet that she didn¡¯t have much in the way of formal education. If any, to be honest. Kefilwe made a clicking sound with her tongue. ¡°I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s a good way to think about it. I bet Nour would know how to use leaves like those to help people. Or at least be able to tell us what they can do or mean symbolically.¡± Jacob raised an eyebrow. ¡°I dunno, I¡¯d take modern medicine over some crushed up leaves any day.¡± Kefilwe opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it, clearly deciding against it. Sensible. There was no arguing with people like that. Jacob couldn¡¯t even see how upset his companion Georgie was getting. Devorah hoped she could see his face when he learned about medicine from her own time and place. Medicine in the 3000s was very different from the butchery of the 2000s. ¡°Anyway,¡± Jacob continued, ¡°I¡¯m ready to keep looking around.¡± ¡°Me too,¡± Georgie said, clearly glad that the conversation was ending. Kefilwe smiled in agreement, and that was that. Devorah wasn¡¯t confident they¡¯d find anything else interesting in the office, but she was still loath to see them go. After they left, who knew how long it would take for another group to investigate the office? Devorah didn¡¯t want to be alone. True, these people couldn¡¯t see her. Or hear her. Or interact with her in any meaningful way. But they were distracting. Devorah didn¡¯t want to be alone with only her thoughts for company. Even still, Devorah felt herself stiffen when Jacob finally came to the desk and saw her glasses. Every fiber of her being called for her to manifest and smack the frames out of his hands. When he thumbed over the bloodstain on the rim, Devorah felt her chest tighten. Barely, just barely, she was able to keep herself from charging up. She didn¡¯t want to risk Jacob dropping her glasses, or even worse, breaking them. But oh, how she wanted to. The feeling only intensified when, without warning, Jacob slid them into the pocket of his jeans. He had not told Kefilwe or Georgie about them. Neither of them would have even a hint that Jacob had done anything suspicious either- Kefilwe was closing the panic room up again and Georgie was busy taking apart another bookcase. A grim air settled over Devorah. You know what? Good. Let Jacob think her glasses were important. Devorah wasn¡¯t sure what she would do if they broke. Chapter Six Devorah was tempted to use her extra charge to grab back her glasses. Make her hand manifest and snatch them right out of Jacob¡¯s pants. But Devorah wasn¡¯t sure she wanted a rumor to go around about a ghost molesting anyone in the office. That would isolate her even more. And worse, she didn¡¯t want anyone to think she was into men. Gross. So as Jacob prepared to leave the office with Georgie and Kefilwe, Devorah was prepared to lose one of her final ties to life as a human being. Goodbye, right to property. Goodbye, right to having an actual working body with which to touch said property. To put it on the bump on your nose and see with it. But then something strange happened. When Jacob walked past the office boundary, something pushed Devorah forwards. It was as if that wall that had been keeping Devorah in place had rallied behind her, slowly moving her at the pace of Jacob¡¯s walking speed. Confused, Devorah stumbled forward. Further and further until she approached the original wall. Bracing herself, she prepared to be crushed, or worse. Dispersed again. Anxiety welled up in her throat, and she was ready, if scared, but then. But then! Jacob opened the door to the office, and Devorah was pushed along with him. Painlessly, she shuffled past the barrier that Devorah assumed would keep her tied to the room. With a start, Devorah came to a very happy realization. She wasn¡¯t tied to the office! She was tied to her glasses! Relief washed over Devorah, as sudden and intense as a tidal wave in a storm. The feeling was so heavy it felt physical, as if there was a boat on that wave and it shipwrecked right into the heart of her. This was no soft relief- this was a kind of desperation. Like a dog on a chain, Devorah was dragged along with Jacob as he exited the office and closed the doors behind Georgie and Kefilwe. It seemed that the office they were in was connected to a library. And honestly, based on the location and the apparent setting, it would probably be more appropriate to have called it a study. The library itself was a moderately sized room with high arched ceilings and a richly patterned rug atop hardwood floors. Like the study, the room was packed full of bookcases, though the shelves held a wide assortment of items. Books, busts, Earth globes and more, everything one should expect in a library would likely be found there. Devorah noted that the furniture in the room was mostly relegated to overstuffed couches and chairs. This was likely a personal or family library, as opposed to a library meant to hold enough books for a school or religious facility. Sitting in a bronze, stuffed chair close to the doors Devorah had just exited from was a new man. While Georgie easily looked at place in the setting, and even Kefilwe and Jacob looked comfortable enough, this man did not fit in an ornate library. For one, a cowboy hat was perched atop his head. The rest of his outfit fell in line- boots, belt and buckle, work pants and shirt. But more than that, the man looked uneasy. His work hardened hands clutched the arms of the chair, and his brown eyes ran up and down everyone, as if looking for signs that something had gone wrong. He was not one of the people on Devorah¡¯s list to haunt. ¡°We¡¯re back!¡± Kefilwe said, cheerful. ¡°Thanks again for letting me in!¡± The man stood from the chair. He was quite tall, and towered over the rest of the party. ¡°No thanks necessary, ma¡¯am. Y''all find anything good?¡± ¡°Well,¡± Jacob started, ¡°I didn¡¯t expect to find Kefilwe in there.¡± The man and Kefilwe had matching winces. ¡°I didn¡¯t think Miss Kefilwe here would be a bother.¡± Georgie elbowed Jacob in the side. ¡°She wasn¡¯t!¡± She turned to Kefilwe. ¡°You weren¡¯t. Jacob¡¯s just giving Gabe here a tough time, yeah?¡± That¡¯s right- Gabe was meant to be guarding the doors. On the surface, he was a better choice than either Georgie or Jacob. Years of hard work definitely made him strong, if he really was a cowboy. But based on how Georgie had wrapped her hand and then tried to punch through a window, Dev would be willing to bet she would have been the better, tougher choice. ¡°Yeah,¡± Jacob laughed, clearly uneasy, ¡°I just wanted to make sure we got to sweep the room first. You know how it is, people get pretty competitive around here looking for clues.¡± Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°But that¡¯s why we should help each other,¡± Kefilwe argued. Devorah had the feeling this was well-tread ground. Discussions like this one had happened in her first game, too. Naive, Devorah had wanted a policy of open information. If Anna hadn¡¯t been there, she would have told everyone everything. But now wasn¡¯t the time to think about that. She couldn¡¯t think about Anna. She couldn¡¯t get distracted. ¡°If we all share what we know,¡± Kefilwe continued, ¡°maybe people won¡¯t fight so hard. And maybe they will want to share!¡± Jacob laughed again, but this time it was tinged with disbelief. ¡°You think Faith will share everything? Or those two?¡± ¡°Maybe not,¡± Kefilwe allowed, ¡°but if the majority comes together-¡± ¡°I don¡¯t mean to interrupt,¡± Gabe said, interrupting, ¡°but maybe we should put this discussion aside for now?¡± Georgie nodded. ¡°Gabe¡¯s right. I want to go over what we found, while it¡¯s still fresh.¡± ¡°That¡¯s fine, but I¡¯m going to head off for now, okay? I want to check in with Mathilde and Nour.¡± Kefilwe said. The others assented, and waved Kefilwe off with promises to see her at dinner. Gabe, Georgie and Jacob settled close together on the couch, voices low to ensure no one could listen in. Of course, they didn¡¯t know there was a fourth head in their huddle. In soft voices, Georgie and Jacob went over everything that happened in the study- the secret room, Devorah¡¯s ghostly attack, and the strange flowers Kefilwe noticed out the window. And then Jacob took Devorah¡¯s glasses out of his pocket. Devorah let out a huff of relief. The short trip hadn¡¯t broken them, and even the lenses looked unscratched. ¡°I found these glasses on the desk. I bet they belong to whoever owned the library.¡± Jacob said. How nice, to be so confident in something so incorrect. Georgie poked at them, leaving a smudge on the lens. Great. ¡°You think something will happen if you wear them?¡± ¡°Worth a try.¡± Jacob said. He removed his own glasses and put Devorah¡¯s on his face. He blinked a few times, then grimaced. ¡°Woah, the guy who wore these was as blind as a bat.¡± Dev considered using a charge to yank them off his face. ¡°Let me try.¡± Georgie grabbed the glasses off of Jacob¡¯s face and slid them on. ¡°Shite.¡± She quickly took them off then held them towards Gabe. ¡°You want a turn?¡± ¡°Not me, Georgie. I can see just fine.¡± Gabe paused, then continued speaking. ¡°Sides. It feels mean, somehow, wearing someone¡¯s glasses without their say so.¡± Gabe immediately became Dev¡¯s favorite of the three. Carefully, Gabe took the pair of glasses and folded them up. He was careful to avoid touching the already smudged lenses. Gentle, he handed them back to Jacob who then ruined it all by shoving them in his pocket again. ¡°Maybe we need to wear them in a specific place? Then they¡¯ll get clear and reveal something,¡± Jacob suggested. ¡°Or maybe they¡¯re like a key, and we have to put them somewhere?¡± Georgie offered. That gave Devorah pause- would there be another use for her glasses? Obviously, Devorah could assume that she was bound to them. Where the glasses go, she goes. But what if they broke into two pieces? Would Devorah¡¯s radius expand? Would Devorah¡¯s AI be locked away, condemned to oblivion? A chill took root in the pit of Devorah¡¯s chest. A chest that wasn¡¯t real. A chest that had been stabbed in another life that felt like just hours ago and was now perpetually frozen, blood hanging like icicles. Even that moment of dematerialization hadn¡¯t knocked them loose. What did it matter, if Devorah¡¯s AI was dismissed? In her brief return, Devorah had felt empty like a cup overturned. A tap that had once been full of love and fear and anger and more- it had been made glacial in a winter storm. Slow to move and slow to accept. It wasn¡¯t until Devorah found herself alone in a new room that she even realized she, and by extension the glasses, had been moved. The furnishings in the room looked simple, if old fashioned. From the bedframe to the desk and chair, everything was made of plain, dark wood. The linens on the bed were mussed, and one of the three doors in the room was ajar, revealing a modern bathroom. Devorah¡¯s glasses rested atop the desk. Another desk. She was destined for desks, it seemed. Suddenly, the situation seemed hilarious. Laughter bubbled in Devorah¡¯s chest, and quickly broke out. This entire facsimile of a day- from booting up in nothingness, to seeing old dead friends, and now this! Back on a desk, just like in the office-study-whatever! And she had been so lost in her moping that Devorah hadn¡¯t even realized she was moving again! Being moved from place to place, with no agency, like an object¡­ Devorah¡¯s laugh stuttered, then turned from something tinged with mania to a full-on sob. Fuck. She really wasn¡¯t a person anymore, huh? Chapter Seven With Jacob gone and Devorah¡¯s glasses on the desk, there wasn¡¯t much to do but wait until he came back. Though Jacob couldn¡¯t perceive Devorah in any meaningful way, she was still glad for the time to herself. Yes, Jacob couldn¡¯t see her, but that didn¡¯t mean Devorah felt comfortable having her breakdown in front of him. And so, Devorah allowed herself space to cry and moan and even uselessly hit at the furniture. Every time she felt close enough to a charge being activated, Devorah stepped back. Breathed in, out. In and out again. And once she felt calm enough, Devorah let the emptiness and rage battle within her again. Eventually, Devorah calmed down. There was still something simmering under the surface, under the heavy layer of ice that encased her everything. But she could focus again. Work like something close to a person, again. Since Jacob still hadn¡¯t returned, Devorah decided it was the perfect time to check her messages. Since she was in such a good emotional state and was capable of making super rational decisions, obviously. Sure enough, Devorah had received a reply from this Riley person. She wasn¡¯t sure what to make of them, exactly. In her own game, Devorah never had a chance to communicate with anyone behind the scenes. As a normal player, there wouldn¡¯t have been a reason for that. Only the champion had contact with the outside world. On a few occasions, there would be major sponsors who would reach out to players while they were in the game. It was pretty rare for that to happen, though. Devorah supposed that this definitely confirmed that she wasn¡¯t considered a normal player this time around. But did that mean she and the other ghosts were staff? Or just setting? Devorah, Thank you for your thanks! I am acknowledging that you took the time out of your busy day to contact me. Devorah rolled her eyes. Busy day? Please. However, I must ask that you do not contact me save for any emergencies or urgent questions. Emergencies and urgent questions consist of situations such as: Any questions about sponsorship brands! Questions about how to better represent sponsorship brands! Ideas about how to better incorporate sponsorship brands! Any ideas for brands that you think would be ideal sponsorship brands! Emergencies do NOT include: Oh no! Sally is dying! Oh no! Tom is murdering Sally! Oh no! Tom murdered Sally and is having sex with her corpse! (Unless Tom is doing this near a sponsored product. In that case, please notify me immediately.) Also, my day is going GREAT! Thanks for asking. I think I might actually be securing that deal with Spucci. They have a new jewelry collection that would look great with one of our player¡¯s costumes. -Riley Brand Partnership Manager Champion''s League Uh¡­? Wow. Devorah had been looking for a distraction, and she certainly got it. For a moment, she was so dumbstruck she couldn¡¯t even remember to be depressed. Where to even start? Riley, If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Thank you for the speedy reply. Best of luck getting that brand deal with Spucci, that would certainly be a step up over Azazel Weapons, who I think were the biggest sponsor in my games? At least based on the amount of Azazel brand skinning knives that Anna found. I know you said not to bother you, but I have a few questions concerning my role in this game. Why am I here? Why only two charges? Our other notification mentioned my role and the amount of charges may change- when will we be getting updates on that? Thanks again, Devorah A reply came seemingly in just seconds. Didn¡¯t I just say those weren¡¯t the kinds of questions I¡¯d be answering? And don¡¯t get me wrong, Azazel is still sponsoring this game too. Obviously. Which is good for a game about society and the lengths people will go to for their own survival. You mostly outlined how I should not contact you were I to witness a murder. Similarly, you don¡¯t need to play the PR Agent with me, Riley. You may be the one selling it, but I know this game intimately. We both know it isn¡¯t intellectual musings on the nature of society and the human psyche that draws viewers. Have you considered that maybe I¡¯m trying to change that?? Huh?? Spucci will bring real class to this game. I¡¯m sure it will, Riley. As a historian, my suggestion would be to play into the history of the brand. The long, long and luxurious history. It¡¯s a perfect tie-in to a season that seems to be focused on bringing in players from different points in Earth¡¯s history. You think I¡¯m not working that angle? You think I¡¯m an amateur? There¡¯s a reason the league is paying me the big bucks. I have worked bigger gigs than the Champion¡¯s League. This shitthole is lucky to have me and they know it. You should be treating me with more respect too. Dammit. Devorah was really screwing this up. There was a reason she left the sweet talking and persuasion to Anna. But she was alone here. Unless¡­ You¡¯re right, and I didn¡¯t mean to insinuate otherwise. Were you the one who secured the deal with Space Starbucks in my game? Markony with his endless lattes was hilarious. It was me, yeah! Haha, it was pretty funny, wasn¡¯t it? And Space Starbucks loved it. Lattes are usually pretty big sellers, but it really helped bolster the release of their new helium cold brew lattes. The waver made a lot of people nervous to drink it, I think, but they actually taste fine and stay cold for a pretty long time. And the way Markony kept guzzling them down? Perfect! That¡¯s a guy who knows his comedic timing. Hilarious. But I bet you don¡¯t want to be funny with Spucci, right? So what about this- you know Eugenia? Now a ghost, but definitely a weapon in your marketing arsenal? She wears fine things very well, and as a poet she knows how to weave words together. What about draping her in some Spucci jewels? With her being a ghost, you can also keep in contact with her much more easily than any of the players. That¡­ Actually isn¡¯t a half bad idea. Got them. A fancy ghost would look great online, too. And she¡¯s already historic too, being from Earth¡¯s nineteenth century¡­ Yeah, I¡¯ll keep that in mind. I¡¯ll let you think that over! In the meantime, do you know who I could contact about those questions I had earlier? Normally I¡¯d say the host, but she¡¯s a bit¡­ busy. Haha. Uh, the champion wants to be really involved. Like, way more involved than champions normally are. And these players move fast! Not naming names, but the third murderer is on the move. And it¡¯s only been a few weeks? I¡¯ll let the new analyst know you want to talk. It¡¯s an AI so it can do a few things at once. Wait, so did that mean that the host wasn¡¯t an AI? That weird doll thing? That was a real person? But it had been able to turn back time! Or was that a ruse? Devorah and the other ghosts were just code, so maybe it was like the host had hit an undo button? Devorah needed more information. Something didn¡¯t feel right about that. That sounds perfect. Please let the analyst know I¡¯ll be awaiting their message. If you could also let the host know I would like to speak with them when they¡¯re free, that would be greatly appreciated. Thank you so much for your help, Riley. I¡¯m not a personal assistant you know? But I¡¯ll pass on the messages in exchange for a favor. Devorah didn¡¯t care for that. But she would do it if she had to. What can I do for you? I''m a bit limited in my current situation. Nothing now, haha! But I¡¯ll let you know when the time comes. -Riley Brand Partnership Manager Champion''s League Ominous. With a sigh, Devorah closed out of the messaging system. Thankful that Devorah could only get brain-murder headaches and not normal, stress induced headaches, she allowed herself to recline on Jacob¡¯s bed. Messages handled, all she could do now was wait for Jacob to return. Hopefully, he would be back soon. Devorah didn¡¯t want to be alone with her thoughts again. That path only spelled trouble. Chapter Eight Eventually, Jacob finally made it back to his room. Gabe and Georgie were in tow, and Devorah was starting to get a better understanding of their alliance. Jacob saw himself as something of a leader and head investigator, with Georgie as his assistant and Gabe the muscle. If anyone asked Devorah, she would have rearranged them. Georgie would obviously be the fist of the operation. Jacob could have his fun thinking of himself as head investigator, but Gabe would be a better leader. For one thing, he clearly didn¡¯t want a position like that. There was a nervous energy about him, but Devorah¡¯s own anxiety had been an asset to her in a situation where people were trying to kill each other and then lie about it. Well, it had been an asset until it very suddenly wasn¡¯t. But Devorah didn¡¯t want to think about it. Devorah moved to lean against the wall as the three of them settled in Jacob¡¯s bedroom- Gabe sitting on the edge of the bed, Georgie at the desk chair, and Jacob pacing. ¡°I don¡¯t get why they wouldn¡¯t talk to me,¡± Jacob complained. Georgie shrugged. ¡°You know their rule- information for information. Besides, they don¡¯t like you.¡± Devorah wished one of the three would put a name or face to these ¡°theys.¡± ¡°Well, she didn¡¯t need to be so offended. It¡¯s not like I was wrong, my time is much more advanced and developed than hers.¡± Georgie coughed, then put her hands up. ¡°You¡¯re not wrong! I¡¯d give up just about anything to live in your time, or one even later than that. But people get defensive of where they come from.¡± Georgie¡¯s voice went low. ¡°Even if it¡¯s utter shite.¡± Gabe looked up from his hands. ¡°It wasn¡¯t the fanciest like, but I miss the ranch. Sure we don¡¯t have them special outer nets, but nothing beats riding my horse on a warm sunny day.¡± ¡°Internet, Gabe,¡± Jacob corrected. Gabe flinched and looked back down at his hands. ¡°My bad.¡± He started to play with the corner of the quilt. ¡°Either way,¡± Georgie started to say, then coughed. The first cough was an almost delicate thing, a sound someone would make to clear the air. Or in this case, release a deluge. She coughed again, and again, and quickly they became nasty hacking things, giving Georgie no room to breathe. Jacob looked concerned as Gabe quickly got up and went over to Georgie, rubbing soothing patterns on her back. He made shushing sounds, like one would make to soothe a spooked cat. Thinking back, Devorah could recall a few times that Georgie had coughed. Devorah had written them off- thinking they were from dust allergies, or that it was a nervous tic. Clearly this was something more serious. When Georgie eventually pulled back her hand and Devorah saw specks of blood, she had her answer. Consumption. How very period appropriate. Consumption, more commonly known as tuberculosis, was a highly contagious disease. It had long since ceased to be a problem in Devorah¡¯s era, but Georgie did seem to be from nineteenth century England. With its lack of sanitation and cramped living spaces, consumption was a major killer. With the lack of masks and likely lackluster filtration, consumption could become a major problem in this game. The producers likely had a chance to completely cure Georgie when they brought her in. Why hadn¡¯t they? Because it was period appropriate? Devorah just hoped that the rest of the cast had been inoculated. Otherwise there could be a major problem on their hands. And the producers¡¯ too. No one wanted to watch a house of people slowly die of illness. Eventually, Georgie¡¯s coughing subsided. ¡°It¡¯s hard to keep track, but I guess it¡¯s about time to take you to Nour, huh?¡± Jacob said. Georgie stuck out her tongue. ¡°I hate that nasty stuff Doctor Bird makes.¡± ¡°It helps though, doesn¡¯t it?¡± Jacob nudged Georgie. She turned her head away with a grimace. ¡°Doesn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°It helps with the coughing,¡± Georgie admitted, looking more like she was being interrogated than anything, ¡°but it tastes like shite.¡± This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. ¡°I mean it¡¯s not an antibiotic, but we don¡¯t have any here.¡± Jacob said. ¡°I wish the kitchen was open at night,¡± Georgie grumbled. ¡°I want tea. With honey.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll make you some tea in the morning, Georgie.¡± Gabe offered. ¡°But for now, let¡¯s get you to the doctor.¡± Though taking Georgie for her nightly medication was the right move, Devorah despaired as she watched them prepare to leave again. Gabe held out his arm, which Georgie took for support, and they left. Jacob went to follow them, before a look of recognition passed over his face. ¡°Oh, wait!¡± He said, then took Devorah¡¯s glasses and put them in his pocket. Devorah didn¡¯t know what his plans were, but she was glad to be taken along. Even if she felt like cattle being pulled along by a rope, it was still better than just sitting and waiting. Alone. Forever. With no one to talk to aside from Riley over neural messages. Scraping up a semblance of dignity, Devorah walked behind the trio. She didn¡¯t have access to a map of the house, but based on the long hall and series of doors it seemed like there was a specific section of the mansion laid out as a dormitory space. Devorah thought back to her own game. Made to look like a section of a city wrapped in fog, Devorah¡¯s own residence had been a small apartment above a curio shop. Henry had lived in an apartment above hers- or as he had insisted on calling it, a flat. This new game was practically claustrophobic instead. The hall was narrow and dimly lit with gas lamps. Hardwood floors and unadorned walls, broken up only by single plain doors, made the hallway seem almost like a hotel. It was quiet, unnaturally so. Unless the entire cast was sleeping or traveling at night, Devorah would be willing to bet there was some sort of sound canceling. Would be a shame if a murder was interrupted because everyone could hear the screams. Speaking of, the trio stopped for a moment at a door that was left partially ajar. There were several small gifts laid at the foot of it- a bundle of dried flowers, a ripe orange. A plate of some sort of flatbread that was starting to grow mold. Several small figures carved out of wood- including a tiny cat. A small tea cup filled with a dark liquid. After an appropriate moment of silence, the group continued on. Devorah found herself strangely touched. This small shrine was likely made at the door of someone who had died in game. Murderer or victim, she could not say. But it seemed this person was loved, at least a little bit. Devorah thought back to the ouija board, the playing of which heralded her existence in this new world. Was this the door of whoever that group had been trying to speak to? They were clearly beloved. Who had mourned Devorah when she had gone? Had her family received her body? Was the last bit of her physicality deep in the sands of Samaria, nourishing the worms and the sparse desert growth? Or was it disposed of? Burned and scattered in space? Did she even want to know? The trio continued on down the hall, pulling Devorah along with them. When they reached one a few feet down, Jacob knocked. It was Kefilwe who opened the door. She had changed for the night, and was in a long, patterned night shirt, and her hair was bound up in a bonnet. Didn¡¯t they say they were going to visit someone named Nour? Who was possibly a bird and also a doctor? ¡°Hello again!¡± She said with a bright smile. ¡°You guys here for Georgie¡¯s potion?¡± ¡°It is not a potion,¡± said a new voice from beyond the door, ¡°but an elixir made to warm the humors.¡± Devorah shot a look towards Jacob. Predictably, he was scowling. The idea of humors was bunk, but it was really funny to see how much Jacob detested early medicine. Devorah would be willing to bet anything that this potion maker was doing the best with the materials they were given. ¡°Miss Georgie¡¯s uh, humors, need realigning doc.¡± Gabe said, carefully shuffling Georgie forward. ¡°She was coughing up blood again.¡± ¡°Was she?¡± The new voice said. It lowered, and said something inaudible before raising their voice again. ¡°Pray, give me a moment to wash my hands. I will be with you shortly.¡± ¡°Blood again, Georgie?¡± Kefilwe said, reaching out to put a gentle hand on her shoulder. ¡°I thought you were doing better! You were barely coughing when we were exploring together. I¡¯m sorry to hear you¡¯re not doing well.¡± ¡°Better than I was before I got here.¡± ¡°I just wish we had some sort of antibiotic,¡± Jacob said, clearly frustrated. ¡°I don¡¯t get it! Whoever brought us here has to know about them, if we¡¯re all really from different eras!¡± ¡°Unfortunately, we are not in possession of your ¡®antibiotics.¡¯¡± The new voice said, closer than ever before. And when they finally came into Devorah''s field of vision, she gasped. It seemed there was a reason this person was nicknamed Doctor Bird- they were a real plague doctor! Complete with the robes, beak, and everything. Their costume restrictions must have been pretty strict too. Even as Kefilwe changed into pajamas, this person was still in full regalia. They had something of a powerful presence, too. The doorway seemed smaller with them in reach, and Georgie even more delicate. ¡°Though we do not have the medicine of your time, I am more than capable of utilizing what can be found in this house to create elixirs for Georgie,¡± they said, tone somewhat frosty. With their face fully covered, it was somewhat difficult to parse how they were feeling. ¡°Imagine, if you will, that there was no one with my skill set, nor were there antibiotics. Do I not work to ease Miss Georgie¡¯s pain? Do I not work to assure she has more energy, and a cheerful demeanor? Do I not do this work asking for no form of payment? You insult me.¡± Red-faced, Jacob clearly was moving to respond before Gabe put a large hand over his mouth. ¡°We appreciate your expertise, doc, promise.¡± ¡°Yeah, I appreciate it,¡± Georgie echoed. ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡¯s in your juice, because it tastes like piss, but it really does help me talk easy. So, thank you.¡± The doctor sighed. ¡°Of course. And please, where are our manners? Do come in, Mathilde is in the lavatorium watching the medicine for me.¡± Kefilwe held the door open for the trio to come into the room. Unseen, Devorah snuck in behind them. Chapter Nine Cosmetically and architecturally, the room was identical to Jacob¡¯s own bedroom. There were two key differences. The first was that this room clearly housed several people- likely Kefilwe, the doctor, and Mathilde who was currently in the bathroom. The closet was overstuffed and ajar, with Kefilwe¡¯s bright clothes in between two different wardrobes- one entirely black and one almost completely white. One side of the bed had several blankets, while the middle and other end were rather light on them. The bed was a cozy nest with more than half a dozen pillows. Three neat piles were arranged on the desk, along with a stack of books left on the floor near the desk chair. It was clear that this area was some sort of research station. Devorah quickly gleaned the topics of the books- they were mostly on medicine, herbalism, and religion. A fairly new bible had a place of honor in the center, placed on a small mat. This room looked much more lived in than Jacob¡¯s room. Best of all was the fourth, unnoticed resident of the room. A resident who, just as she had last time, jumped to sweep Devorah up in a hug the second she saw her. It was Bell, looking just the same as when Devorah had last seen her. Truth be told, Devorah was able to admit herself that it was a relief to see Bellone. Exactly that, too- it was a relief that even in the game itself, Devorah could literally see Bell. Likely talk with her, touch her again in that uncanny ghostly way. ¡°Dev!¡± Once again, Devorah allowed herself to be pulled into the hug and allowed herself to be blubbered over. It was easy enough to smile and share reassurances. ¡°Long time no see, Bell. It¡¯s good to see you.¡± After a minute or so, Dev was released. ¡°I was so worried about you!¡± Bell sniffled, wiping at non-existent tears. ¡°You were so quiet when we got reunited with everyone.¡± Had she been? Devorah thought she had been acting pretty normal, all things considered. ¡°I just didn¡¯t have much to say, I guess.¡± Devorah forced a laugh. ¡°I guess!¡± Bell repeated. ¡°Maybe I¡¯m just so used to you chattering away at Anna-¡± ¡°Well, Anna isn¡¯t here,¡± Devorah found herself interrupting. She blinked, and Bell raised up her hands in a conciliatory manner. Why had she¡­? ¡°Sorry, Bell. I didn¡¯t mean to snap at you.¡± ¡°It¡¯s okay!¡± Bell patted Dev on the shoulder. ¡°I get it, Anna¡¯s probably a sore spot for you. Must suck to be without your wife.¡± ¡°My¡­? We weren¡¯t married. We weren¡¯t even together.¡± There was a flash of something in the back of Devorah¡¯s mind. A daydream she used to have, back in her own game. Dev dreamed of the day the game would end. The two of them would have gotten out safe, and alive. And Anna would have turned to Devorah and said, in this strange new world, I have nowhere to go. And Devorah would have said, I could take you home with me, if you¡¯d like. Then they went home to Samaria, got two cats and lived in a little house together just a few blocks from the rest of Dev¡¯s family. Yeah, like that could have ever happened. Bell looked at Dev, a bit confused. ¡°I mean I know you weren¡¯t married, but not even together? Really? The way you look at her?¡± Devorah cringed, and buried her head in her hands. When she spoke, it was muffled by her own palms. ¡°Was it that obvious?¡± ¡°It¡¯s so obvious. Not even Soph and Amina¡­¡± Bell trailed off, and her hand went from Dev¡¯s shoulder to her neck. ¡°Well they got their happy reunion! Maybe you¡¯ll get yours!¡± ¡°Maybe,¡± Dev echoed, unsure how to respond in a way that would communicate anything other than complete despair. Meeting Anna again¡­ There was nothing that Devorah wanted more than the chance to see her, just one last time. But it could never be the same. Anna was alive. Devorah was dead. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. There was an awkward pause. Pursing her lips together, Devorah took advantage of the dropped conversational threads to see what the others in the room were doing. Unfortunately, it wasn¡¯t too interesting. Nour was just asking Georgie about her symptoms. ¡°So,¡± Devorah started, ¡°you¡¯ve been with Nour and Kefilwe today?¡± ¡°Them and Mathilde, yup!¡± Bell seemed glad for the shift in conversation. Devorah knew she was. ¡°Nour found my pin in the lounge. Or sitting room, as they called it. I was stuck in between two pillows! Can you believe that?¡± Bell laughed, and Dev made herself laugh with her. Dev remembered Bell talking about her pin in the past. Its ghostly second was on her collar even now. If Dev recalled correctly, the pin represented Bell¡¯s status as a pilot and officer in Alliance Space Agency, or ASA for short. Samaria was a member planet of ASA as well, though Dev didn¡¯t personally know anyone who worked there. ¡°For me, it was my glasses. They were on a desk in a study,¡± Devorah said. Bell laughed again. ¡°That¡¯s so you! I wouldn¡¯t have put you anywhere else, unless there¡¯s a hidden lab in here. You know, the three of them live in this room, but they use Mathilde¡¯s bedroom as an infirmary. So that lab isn¡¯t really hidden or full of secrets. You need an evil lab!¡± ¡°An evil lab?¡± Devorah asked. ¡°Yeah! So you could go all detective and figure out what they were researching!¡± Dev found her lip quirking up in a smile. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t call it detective-like, the way I went about researching. It was more like a panic-fueled romp through the archives.¡± ¡°It was still impressive! But- oh! Look, Mathilde¡¯s coming with some special juice.¡± Bell gestured towards the bathroom door. Sure enough, a woman in a full nun¡¯s habit was carrying a small vial of a liquid that looked as murky as it would be disgusting to drink. Devorah did not envy Georgie the clearly herculean task that was approaching. And looking at Georgie¡¯s grimace, she clearly would have agreed with that assessment. ¡°Take it slow,¡± Nour cautioned. Georgie reached out for the vial. ¡°I¡¯m gonna do it in one go.¡± There was no response from Nour, yet they somehow managed to radiate an air of disappointed disapproval, even with the mask. As Georgie eyed her medicine with trepidation, clearly stealing herself, Gabe turned to the nun. ¡°Thank you kindly for your help, Miss Mathilde.¡± Mathilde flushed, the warm pink of it standing out against her pale skin and the stark monochrome nun¡¯s habit. She had a pretty enough face, though her features were somewhat sharp. ¡°Think nothing of it, Master Gabriel. Nour does all the hard work, and work requiring knowledge in medicine. I simply watch the pot! Still, it is my pleasure to help. As Colossians 3:23-3:24 says, whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.¡± Clearly that meant something to Gabe, who nodded with a gentle smile gracing his face. Devorah just thought that as long as Mathilde was doing good, it didn¡¯t matter why she was doing it. Even if Dev personally would work harder to serve someone she cared for than she would for a distant God. Scrunching up her nose, Georgie uncorked the vial and knocked the concoction back like it was a shot at a party. The grimace she made after only strengthened the analogy. Bell whistled, impressed. ¡°Here,¡± Jacob said, reaching into a pocket that was different from the one that held Dev¡¯s glasses. He took out a small, wrapped piece of colorful candy that immediately reminded Devorah of the bright bits of confectionery thrown at newlyweds on their wedding day. ¡°Got this from the girls. Maybe it¡¯ll help with the taste.¡± Ah, so he did have a soft spot for Georgie. Georgie snatched the piece of candy like a woman possessed. Quickly, she removed the colorful wrapping, letting it fall to the floor in her rush. Georgie stuck out her tongue and rubbed the piece of candy on it. The whole show was kind of disgusting. ¡°Master Jacob, do you know the flavor of the sweet?¡± Mathilde asked. ¡°It would not do for all of Nour¡¯s hard work to go to waste, should the flavor unbalance Miss Georgie¡¯s humors!¡± Under the guise of stretching, Jacob turned towards where Bell and Dev were standing and rolled his eyes. Bell snickered, and Devorah elbowed her. ¡°It¡¯s citrus flavored. Christmassy.¡± Georgie said around the hard candy. ¡°Then it should be just fine. It sounds cooling, which should help temper her morbid inflammation,¡± Nour said. Jacob stretched his neck the other way around, and rolled his eyes again. Kefilwe clapped her hands together. ¡°If nothing else, it¡¯ll raise your spirits! Right Georgie!¡± Georgie gave a thumbs up. ¡°Then all is well,¡± Mathilde said. "Heheheh, spirits," Bell said. "Like us." Devorah elbowed her again. Chapter Ten For a moment, there was silence. Then Jacob spoke up. ¡°Hey, do you mind if I ask you guys a question?¡± Devorah was immediately interested- would Jacob pick another fight? A snack would have been great. But could Dev even eat? A quandary to be explored at a later date. ¡°Who, us?¡± Kefilwe answered, gesturing between herself, Nour and Mathilde. ¡°Yeah, kind of.¡± Jacob paused, clearly preparing what he wanted to say in his mind. ¡°Do you guys ever, you know. Take those things off?¡± He said, gesturing to Nour and Mathilde. ¡°Are you referring to my robes?¡± Mathilde asked. Jacob nodded. ¡°And Nour¡¯s whole¡­ Thing.¡± Nour decided to answer first. ¡°Well, I can answer for myself. Unlike Mathilde and Kefilwe, I have found my costume to be exactly that- a costume. This is nothing like the garb I wear in my daily life, nor is it what I would wear to practice medicine. However,¡± Nour said, ¡°I have found joy in these robes. I quite like the mystery they cast on my figure.¡± ¡°They are quite fine,¡± Mathilde commented. ¡°All that deep black cloth must have been quite expensive. You look very princely.¡± Deep, natural dyes had been quite expensive for a long time in Earth history. ¡°My thanks,¡± Nour responded. ¡°As for me,¡± Mathilde began, ¡°as Timothy 2:9 states, I also want the women to dress modestly, with decency and propriety, adorning themselves, not with elaborate hairstyles or gold or pearls or expensive clothes. As a servant of the lord, I dress modestly to reflect my vows made as a Dominican and sister of the Teutonic Order.¡± Devorah knew a little bit about cloth, but Catholic history? She was wildly out of depth here. Shooting a look at Bell, Dev knew that the half ostian was even more confused. ¡°So you guys never take that stuff off?¡± Jacob¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°Don¡¯t you get hot though? At night?¡± Georgie asked. ¡°I cannot speak for Nour, but I am duty-bound to ensure my modesty as a sign of my devotion to our lord and savior,¡± Mathilde said. ¡°As a result, I always wear this when in the company of others, yes. I would consider disrobing to sleep, had I chosen to sleep alone, but I believe it is safer to remain in a group at night.¡± ¡°I agree,¡± Nour said. ¡°Both previous victims perished in the night. The choice to stay with people you can trust is the wise one.¡± Kefilwe cooed, and threw her arms around both of them. ¡°I love and trust you guys too!¡± Devorah could not see Nour¡¯s face, but a soft blush graced Mathilde¡¯s cheeks. Cute. Gabe looked up from where he previously seemed to be deep in thought. ¡°Maybe we should stay together too? Georgie can take the bed, and me and you can take the floor,¡± he said, gesturing at himself and Jacob. Jacob didn¡¯t seem too pleased by that idea. ¡°I¡¯m fine with sharing a bed if Georgie is.¡± Georgie shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t bother me nothing.¡± The blush faded from Mathilde¡¯s cheeks, and her face turned stony. ¡°An unmarried man and woman should not share a bedchamber.¡± ¡°I agree, though likely for a different reason,¡± Nour added. ¡°I do not believe Georgie is well enough for sexual intercourse just yet.¡± Devorah and Jacob groaned in unison. She hated to be in agreement with him. ¡°Wait a second,¡± Georgie interrupted. ¡°Why did your head go there?¡± She looked between Nour, Mathilde and Kefilwe, curious. Kefilwe still had her arm around Nour¡¯s taller figure. ¡°Are you three fucking?¡± Gabe made a choking sound. ¡°I wish we had snacks,¡± Bell whispered to Dev. Dev found herself agreeing. ¡°I-I?¡± Mathilde spluttered, her face all red again. ¡°I am a bride of Christ!¡± ¡°That wasn¡¯t a no,¡± Dev whispered back to Bell, who grinned. Kefilwe just laughed. ¡°Aw, it¡¯s not like that! It really is just to watch each other¡¯s backs. But I bet Nour and Mathilde are really glad for it tonight.¡± ¡°Why do you say that?¡± Jacob asked, his face still stormy around the edges. Something mischievous grew on Kefilwe¡¯s face. ¡°We found a ghost!¡± And it was clear that Nour and Mathilde weren¡¯t happy with this, the way they tensed up. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°What did you do?¡± Devorah found herself laughing. It had been hard at first, but the ridiculousness of the situation combined with an old, friendly face who could see her? It was peeling back Devorah¡¯s spiky surface, bit by bit. ¡°We are in the house of the devil,¡± Mathilde crossed herself, ¡°and I pray God will bring us all salvation.¡± ¡°Though I am no Christian, I do believe there is something demonic following us,¡± Nour agreed. Gabe lowered his head and made the sign of the Christian cross across his body as well. Georgie patted him on the back, seemingly unconcerned with the devil and the demonic for someone who had been so scared of ghosts earlier. ¡°What makes you say that?¡± Jacob asked. ¡°Remember how the ghost attacked us in the library?¡± Kefilwe said. Devorah herself would have disagreed- she wasn¡¯t so vulgar as to outright attack someone who did her no harm. It was just a little book tossing. No big deal. ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to forget, but yeah,¡± Georgie answered. ¡°Well when I came back to Nour and Mathilde, I found Nour praying and Mathilde screeching about how the devil was upon them!¡± Kefilwe gave Nour another consolitary rub on their shoulder. ¡°We found a strange brooch, and the moment I picked it up, I could feel something tug on the brooch! Almost as if it was trying to tear it from my grasp,¡± Nour said. The line of their back was tense, even under the layers of robes. Devorah turned to look at Bellone. ¡°What?¡± Bell said. ¡°It¡¯s my pin!¡± Georgie interrupted and pointed at Jacob. ¡°I told you this place is haunted!¡± Jacob hushed Georgie. ¡°So what happened next?¡± ¡°I called on Christ for mercy,¡± Mathilde said, ¡°and he held back the specter for a period of time. We retreated back to our shared quarters, only for the ghost to strike again!¡± Gabe gasped, as was appropriate. ¡°Mathilde and I entered our room, and locked it from within,¡± Nour began, ¡°and all was calm for a time. Then- a chill settled over the room. Like morning frost.¡± ¡°We can do that?¡± Devorah whispered. ¡°Haha! No!¡± Bell responded. ¡°I thought nothing of it,¡± Nour continued, ¡°until we heard the soft creak of the door open. Mathilde and I had our backs turned to the door. Absorbed in our readings as we were, we believed it was Kefilwe returning to us.¡± ¡°But it wasn¡¯t!¡± Kefilwe said as she shot her hands up, in the perfect posture to scare. ¡°It was the ghost!¡± This time, Jacob hushed Kefilwe. He was quite drawn in to the ghost story. Jacob¡¯s face was intent, and his body was drawn taut. Georgie listened to the proceedings with a face that spoke of great suspicion, and Gabe? Gabe was trying to keep himself from shivering like a leaf caught in a windstorm. ¡°It was the ghost,¡± Nour confirmed. ¡°The sound of footsteps filled the room. Innocuous, heavy, similar to Kefilwe¡¯s own when she wears her boots. But when I looked up to greet her welcome presence- no one was there.¡± ¡°Spooky,¡± Jacob said, expression thoughtful. ¡°The door was ajar. And it had been locked! Kefilwe was the only other who had the key to this room, and she had never entered. Yes, we locked it. We closed it. We heard it open and we heard the footsteps.¡± As Mathilde spoke, her voice picked up, growing more and more frantic. ¡°It was not Kefilwe!¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t do a prank, right? And now you¡¯re not coming forward because it would be really embarrassing?¡± Jacob asked Kefilwe. ¡°No! I wouldn¡¯t do that.¡± Kefilwe frowned at him. ¡°I love my friends. I don¡¯t want to scare them like this.¡± Nour nodded in agreement. ¡°Kefilwe would never hurt any of us, I believe her. Likewise, we have all heard hearsay of the dead walking these halls.¡± ¡°And then there was that bloody thing in the library¡­¡± Georgie added with a shudder. ¡°Kefilwe spoke of that on her return,¡± Mathilde said. ¡°I truly fear we are in the hands of the devil.¡± ¡°This ain¡¯t the devil,¡± Georgie said. ¡°I know the devil like an old friend. This is something else.¡± Mathilde turned to Georgie, aghast. ¡°Georgiana! Do not speak of the devil in that way.¡± Gabe looked up like a wild animal about to get struck by an oncoming collision. He opened his mouth like he wanted to intervene, balancing responses in his head, but Georgie spoke up first. ¡°Why not?¡± Georgie demanded, face hot. ¡°It¡¯s true! You don¡¯t know the shite I¡¯ve lived with. Lived through. This place is a hell, yeah, but there¡¯s worse out there Mathilde. And the spirits? We opened the door for them. We invited them in.¡± Mathilde looked away, shamefaced. And Devorah too felt ashamed. The Champion¡¯s League was the worst thing she had ever been through. Unquestionably. Yet from the moment she had been stolen away until her death, had Devorah truly suffered? Not like Georgie probably had, with consumption and a life likely lived in deep poverty. And yet Devorah had spent nearly half of her time as an AI moping, crying, raging. ¡°No matter.¡± Nour spoke up. ¡°It does not matter if it is an independent spirit or the work of something darker. I do not want this room to be tainted. Here.¡± Nour reached into a pouch and revealed Bell¡¯s pin. ¡°You three, take this.¡± They pressed it into Gabe¡¯s palm. His hand shook. Nour continued. ¡°I trust you with this artifact, Gabriel. And I believe your company will find a better use for this than we ever could.¡± ¡°You have our blessing. Take it away from here,¡± Mathilde said. ¡°We¡¯ll hold onto it for you,¡± Jacob said. Devorah could see how he wanted to take Bell¡¯s pin. The way his eyes tracked it, and never left Gabe¡¯s hand revealed everything. But Gabe just slid it into the pocket of his jeans. ¡°I promise I¡¯ll keep ya¡¯ll safe. Let me know if you ever need this here pin.¡± Kefilwe grinned, relieved. ¡°Thank you, Gabe!¡± "You are a good Christian," Mathilde said softly. Devorah found herself shrugging- whatever made Mathilde sleep easier at night. Chapter Eleven With Georgie treated and the pin passed on to new hands, the two trios said their goodbyes and parted ways. Nour and Mathilde were apparently planning an early morning- they wanted to do some research before spending more time creating ointments and tinctures. They had appointed themselves as the resident medical experts of the house, and were keen to live up to that role. In the first half of Devorah¡¯s game, they had Albert. The less said about how that ended, the better. Georgie, meanwhile, needed some rest. With maneuvering, it was decided that Gabriel (and therefore Bell too) would spend the night in Georgie¡¯s room with her. For the time being, Jacob would continue to have his own space. Little did Jacob know, but he would never truly have his own space. Not with Devorah¡¯s glasses on his person. Parting ways with Bell wasn¡¯t as difficult as Devorah had been expecting. Maybe it was because she knew that she would see Bell in the morning, when Jacob met his two friends for breakfast. And so Devorah settled in for the night, curling up in a cold corner of the room. The monotony was only broken up by what Devorah could only assume was the stroke of midnight. That was when her charges reset. Her bonus charge didn¡¯t carry over. Pity. At some point in what was likely the early morning, Jacob rolled out of bed. Once Jacob was ready for the day, he slid his own pair of glasses on his nose, and Devorah¡¯s into his pocket. Jacob headed back down the hall, in the opposite direction from where they had met with Nour the night before. Eventually, they reached an area that looked like a communal dining hall. The room was dimly lit, with no windows. There were only two doors- one being the one Jacob and Devorah had entered through, and the other clearly labeled ¡°KITCHEN.¡± The dining hall itself was poorly decorated, especially compared to the sumptuous living room. All that was really there was a long dining table with eighteen chairs, and one half empty cabinet filled with what Devorah quickly found to be poorly made porcelain plates and cups. Jacob took a plate and cup before disappearing to the kitchen. Devorah managed to remain at the edge of the doorway, happy to examine the two strangers sitting at the end of the table while Jacob puttered about making himself¡­ something disgustingly mushy. From the distance of the kitchen doorway, Devorah couldn¡¯t hear whatever the two strangers were discussing in low voices. But she found herself fascinated by them anyway, even though neither of them matched the profiles of the ouija board users. The first was a man in a tunic and sandals. Clean shaven and with short hair, Devorah could easily place him as being from Earth¡¯s Ancient Rome. There was something about his brown eyes and short, slightly curling hair paired with the strong nose that made him feel familiar to her. But it was his companion that was really something special. She was a tall woman with lean, corded muscle and a sharp gaze. Her long brown and red streaked hair was sensibly pulled up. Her clothes were really what stood out though- the cut of the jacket, and the fabric of her pants? Devorah would bet that she was modern. She was from the same time period as Devorah. It was her jacket in particular though¡­ Devorah was too far to make them out, but it was covered in buttons and patches. The shape of one of the patches, the way its edges almost flared out, as if finned¡­ As if on cue, the moment Devorah started to wrack her brain for its meaning, she was struck with another of those horrible headaches. Groaning, Devorah pressed a hand to her head. By this point, she knew the drill. Think of something else. Kittens. Cute fluffy kittens. Cute fluffy kittens wrapped up in cute fluffy blankets. Whew! Okay, that was better. Crisis averted. Thankfully, it was just in time for Jacob to finish assembling his bowl of mush. Devorah¡¯s oblivious keeper looked towards the strangers, hesitated, then made his way towards them. The Roman man and modern woman had much more appetizing looking meals, at least to Devorah, though they were still a bit peculiar. The Roman man had an array of fruits and cheeses spread out before him, along with what looked like a canter of beer. The woman had several black cups of Devorah¡¯s nectar- coffee. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. The nutty, earthy scent hit her nose. It was heaven in a cup. Then and there, Devorah swore she would find a way to have a cup of coffee again, no matter the cost. When Jacob sat down across from the two, the woman cast a discerning eye over him. Jacob puffed up like an angry hedgehog and attempted to return the look. ¡°What do you want, skinny boy?¡± She asked, dismissive. Skinny boy? Devorah let out a surprised wheeze. This was going to be good, she could tell. Jacob didn¡¯t let it deter him. ¡°I just wanted to talk! I want to get to know everyone around here.¡± Her eyes narrowed. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°I mean, if we¡¯re going to be stuck here for a while, why not be friends?¡± Jacob smiled in what he clearly hoped was a non-threatening manner. The woman nodded and relaxed into her seat. It seemed he passed some sort of test. How, Devorah didn¡¯t know. Maybe she just decided that Jacob was no threat, skinny and untrained as he was. But wait, did that mean this woman was also some kind of fighter? Maybe she was security in ASA? ¡°So,¡± Jacob continued, ¡°what have you guys been up to?¡± The Roman looked up from his fruit salad. He had picked through and eaten all the grapes, and was starting in on some fruits that were likely to be less familiar to him. ¡°We finished our sweep of the new area. No obvious weapons.¡± ¡°You could make a decent makeshift weapon out of a lot of shit in here though,¡± the woman pointed out. ¡°Busts for blunt force trauma, linens for garrots, that sort of shit.¡± ¡°Barbaric,¡± The man muttered low. ¡°Better to be barbaric than dead,¡± she answered, barely aware. It seemed to be an exchange they had often. It made Devorah wonder- what was their goal? They were clearly looking to assess the capabilities of their fellow cast members, and they were searching for weapons. Did the woman want to make this into a survival-based game? Or did she want to control the flow of movement and information? Either way, if they found an item linking to one of the ghosts of Devorah¡¯s past, they might have skipped over it if it wasn¡¯t an obvious weapon. Or one of them left it in their room. Jacob obviously felt out of his depth. In a way, Devorah did too. ¡°You could smother someone with a pillow,¡± he offered in an attempt to prove himself. ¡°But I¡¯m sure Lupe already suggested something like that.¡± The woman, Lupe, nodded in a smug manner, as if she had been proven right, while the man grimaced into his bowl of melons. Nasty little bland chunks. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence on Jacob¡¯s end, Lupe spoke up again. ¡°What have you been doing?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been spending a lot of time with Georgie and Gabriel. Brad and Kefilwe too, but mostly Georgie and Gabriel.¡± ¡°And?¡± ¡°And?¡± Jacob echoed. ¡°What have you found?¡± Lupe said, slow as if talking to a child. ¡°No weapons, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re asking about,¡± Jacob laughed. No, just some ghosts. No big deal. Lupe sighed, unimpressed, and Jacob let his laughter quickly die out. The Roman took over for her. ¡°She wants information,¡± he explained in a succinct manner. Then he got up and went into the kitchen. ¡°Have you talked to Brad?¡± Lupe asked. When Jacob shook her head no, Lupe continued. ¡°He lost his bedroom key on the first day. Apparently, instead of giving him a new one right away, a portion of the wall split away to let him in! It turns out he had left his key in his bedroom, and the game didn¡¯t want to issue him a second. But since then, he¡¯s been¡­ Throwing himself at walls all around the building to see if they¡¯ll let him through.¡± Once again, Devorah wheezed. She had to meet this guy. What kind of logic was that? Naturally, Jacob started laughing. And weirdly enough, Lupe didn¡¯t laugh with him. She just sighed, then took a swig from one of her coffee cups as if it was her companion¡¯s tankard of booze. ¡°Hey Tiberius!¡± She shouted in the direction of the kitchen. ¡°Get me another cup of coffee, would you?¡± The Roman man, thankfully finally identified as Tiberius, yelled something incoherent in assent. All that settled, Lupe turned back to Jacob, who was now finally spooning through his slop. The grimace on her face, whether from Brad throwing himself at walls or Jacob¡¯s disgusting breakfast, made Devorah feel some kind of kinship with her. She, too, was already growing tired with the nonsense of the games. "So you have nothing to offer in return?" Lupe said. "Let me think." Jacob tapped his fingers on the table, a smug look in his eyes. He ate a spoonful of mush. "Nope." Devorah groaned and resisted the urge to plant her face into the table. Even Devorah, clumsy as she was, knew this was not how to go about making connections. Chapter Twelve ¡°So about Brad-¡± Lupe began again, before she was cut off by Tiberius¡¯s return. He was being flanked by welcome company- Bell was there, cheerily waving both hands at Devorah! Oh, and Gabriel and Georgie were there too. All of them had their own strange assortment of breakfast items. Georgie had a full plate of meats, cheeses, pastries, and a bowl of slop like Jacob had. Gabriel had some perfectly crispy fried eggs, as well as some fruit and meat. Tiberius had Lupe¡¯s cup of coffee, and a lemon. Jacob brightened up as Gabriel sat across from him, and Georgie next to him. Georgie was already starting in on her food before she even sat down. ¡°Hey guys!¡± ¡°Hey yourself,¡± Georgie said around a mouthful of gruel. Gabriel gave Tiberius a friendly pat on the back. ¡°I didn¡¯t know ya¡¯ll were friends.¡± Tiberius rubbed his lemon with his tunic. ¡°We¡¯re not.¡± Lupe snorted into her fresh coffee. ¡°Anyone else?¡± Bell asked, slinging her arm around Dev. ¡°Not yet,¡± Dev answered in a hushed tone, ¡°also I have a good feeling about this conversation.¡± Bell just raised an eyebrow, happy to assuage Dev. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you were friends,¡± Jacob says, looking between Gabriel and Tiberius. On second thought, it didn¡¯t seem that surprising. Gabriel and Tiberius were both rather large men in height and musculature. Tiberius seemed like the sort to appreciate another strong man. He spent a good deal of time with Lupe, who was clearly pretty tough herself. There was just something about those patches¡­ Devorah¡¯s brain sent out a warning pulse, and she promised herself to pay better attention to the conversation. But damn, did she wish she could have had some of that coffee. Anyway, after a pause, Tiberius said, ¡°we¡¯re not friends.¡± Jacob looked towards Gabriel who bashfully explained, ¡°I helped Tiberius sacrifice a chicken. Xoco was there too.¡± Devorah felt her eyes widening. A live non-sentient animal in the game? And killed live? Georgie looked up from her breakfast, which was a rare feat. ¡°There¡¯s chickens in here? Where?¡± Lupe turned to raise an eyebrow at Tiberius. ¡°And we aren¡¯t eating it, why?¡± ¡°It was for my altar. I needed something to offer, and the gods provided a chicken.¡± Tiberius paused in his cleaning of the lemon. ¡°But it ran away when I took it out of the cage.¡± ¡°Wait a minute. What do you mean by the gods provided a chicken?¡± Jacob exclaimed. Devorah found herself agreeing with him. Between Tiberius and Mathilde, a religious theme was popping up that Devorah didn¡¯t find herself caring for. But either way, there were no gods handing out chickens in these games. Was it some weird kind of product placement? Or was there an independent sponsor that was fond of Tiberius? ¡°I made an altar in my room, but I needed something to offer.¡± Tiberius looked at Jacob like he was stupid. ¡°Yes, I get that, but where did the chicken come from?¡± Jacob said. ¡°Probably an egg,¡± Georgie joked. Gabriel chuckled sensibly. With a groan, Lupe took over and changed tactics. ¡°Tiberius, where did you find the chicken?¡± ¡°It was in the kitchen, in a small cage.¡± Tiberius said. And then Tiberius bit into his lemon as if it were an apple. The madman hadn''t even peeled it. The conversation froze. Lupe¡¯s face froze in disgust. Gabriel¡¯s sensible chuckles rose into chortling laughter. Devorah watched, intimidated, as Tiberius chewed and swallowed without flinching. He went in for another bite of the lemon¡¯s sour flesh. Dev had seen people squeeze lemon juice on food or drinks, and had seen candied lemon peel used as garnish, but she had never seen someone actually bite into a lemon. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°Did you just bite into a lemon,¡± Georgie said, speaking for everyone watching. This was not a question- it was a statement. And everyone already knew the answer. ¡°Yes,¡± Tiberius answered, unfazed. Lupe studied the bite in the peel with unveiled confusion. ¡°Why,¡± Lupe said slowly. It was Tiberius¡¯s turn to look at Lupe with confusion. ¡°It¡¯s good?¡± ¡°Tiberius, that isn¡¯t good for the enamel on your teeth. You¡¯ll end up with cavities,¡± Jacob tried to explain. Tiberius looked even more confused. ¡°Tooth glaze? My teeth are not glazed?¡± Devorah came to the quick realization that there was no close translation for tooth enamel in Latin. Dentistry simply wasn¡¯t that advanced. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, comrade.¡± Lupe patted Tiberius on the back a few times with hard, heavy slaps. ¡°Your teeth are fine. Enjoy your uh, breakfast there.¡± Tiberius bit into the lemon again, this time slowly, to better savor the flavor. After that, they were content to finish their breakfast as they watched Tiberius methodically devour a lemon raw. Once he had finished, conversation shifted to Brad and his wall adventures, as well as bets on who in the combination of Kefilwe, Mathilde and Nour were having sex or dating. As this happened, Devorah dragged Bell over to the middle of the table, and sat down. It felt good to sit in a chair at a table. Few things in this world were more humanizing than a good meal in good company. Though there was no food, and Bell wasn¡¯t a close friend, the experience was comforting. ¡°So how was your night?¡± Bell asked. ¡°It was weird to not need to sleep! I don¡¯t know if I like it. I used to always have really cool dreams, and it¡¯s so weird to know I¡¯ll probably never have them again. Since, no brain. But we do have pretty advanced systems. Maybe we could program in sleep and dreaming?¡± Oh yeah. This was why Bell wasn¡¯t a close friend. When they were alone, just sitting and talking without an activity, there was rarely a chance for Dev to get in a word edgewise. But weirdly enough, Dev didn¡¯t really feel much like talking. She was content to let the nonsense wash over her like a wave. Once there was finally a small pause, Devorah decided to take advantage of it, even if only once. She really did want more information about this hell hole, and since Devorah could only pick up items twice a day, talking to people was the best way to do it. Unfortunately. Dev always did her best work on her fifth cup of coffee at four am. In the archives. Alone. Or with Anna. But that was a special case. ¡°Bell,¡± Devorah rushed out, ¡°did anything else interesting happen with Kefilwe, Nour and Mathilde?¡± ¡°Oh yeah!¡± Bell said. ¡°They actually had a pretty big fight. Turns out, Kefilwe likes to hang out with the host sometimes- that creepy doll robot.¡± Devorah hadn¡¯t seen the doll since waking up a second time, but the doll being a robot made a lot of sense. Bell continued, ¡°Kefilwe goes and talks with it when the other two are exploring, or helping people with injuries they get from traps hidden around the haunted house. She kept saying the Host wasn¡¯t all that bad. That when it wasn¡¯t acting all scary, it was kind of just nervous and sweet.¡± ¡°That¡¯s strange,¡± Dev mused. ¡°Do you think it¡¯s an AI made from originally organic data, like us? That would explain why it isn¡¯t only set to homicidal, like ours was.¡± They both took a second to shiver. ¡°Anyway!¡± Bell started again. ¡°Anyway, obviously Nour and Mathilde weren¡¯t too into that. They¡¯re convinced the doll is also demonic, kind of like we are. Or like they think we are. But to be honest, I also think they¡¯re kind of jealous? Especially Mathilde.¡± ¡°Romantically?¡± ¡°Probably! But weren¡¯t Christians really weird about being gay? I don¡¯t know much about what they were like, though.¡± Dev sighed. ¡°Christians still exist, Bell. You shouldn¡¯t talk about them as if they were an extinct species.¡± ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Bell said, chagrined. ¡°I should be more respectful of her culture. But yeah! Maybe romantically? But I don¡¯t think they¡¯re in a relationship. Any of the three of them!¡± Devorah shrugged. It didn¡¯t really matter. ¡°It¡¯s a shame that you aren¡¯t still with them. I¡¯m already with Jacob, and now you¡¯re with Gabriel. I¡¯d love more eyes on more groups.¡± Bell tilted her head to the side. ¡°Why though?¡± Dev blinked. ¡°What do you mean, why?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not like there¡¯s much of a point on keeping up on investigating, is there? I mean, it¡¯s not like we can really do anything. Unless you just want to look for the ouija board people?¡± Bell paused. ¡°Hey, Dev? Is everything¡­ Okay?¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± Devorah said again. ¡°You look kind of droopy again.¡± Did she? Devorah traced the lines of her face. Ah. Yes, Devorah most certainly was grimacing. How had she not even noticed? Had she truly slipped so far, that she couldn¡¯t even control her face anymore? ¡°Just¡­ Just let me know if you learn anything else, okay?¡± Devorah said, unable to respond in any other way. Bell¡¯s entire body quieted. ¡°Okay, yeah, of course.¡± Devorah gestured back towards the group finishing their breakfast. ¡°I¡¯m going to go wait for Jacob to finish up. My hope is that we¡¯ll get to learn more about that boy throwing himself at the wall.¡± Bell offered Devorah a smile. There was something sad about it, and Devorah just didn¡¯t have the mental energy to parse that at the moment. ¡°I¡¯m going to enjoy some time here to myself. But I¡¯ll see you later, okay? And I¡¯ll update you on everything that happened while we were separated.¡± ¡°Thank you, Bell.¡± And Devorah returned to Jacob. Chapter Thirteen There was a loud thump, then silence, and a few seconds later it sounded again. Thump, quiet, thump. Devorah knew that Jacob, and therefore she, was getting close to Brad and his rather unique experiment. For the first time, Devorah was being led upstairs to an entirely new wing of the house. While the house had been ornate in its own way, this new section of the mansion was absolutely decadent. It was clear that this was where the true masters of the house were meant to dwell, while those who lived downstairs were mere guests and servants. The plain wallpaper became finally detailed, its color rich and properly ominous. Bare floor gave way to lush carpeting. Even the lighting fixtures were more fantastic; they were lovingly crafted from crystal and made strange shapes stretch over walls. Yet Devorah was unable to take it all seriously. It wasn¡¯t even due to the fact that the house was a set- the fact that there was a young man tossing himself at a wall in the hope of making it open up for him was just. Funny. It was really, really funny. And so, the thumping got louder, until Jacob reached a door that was just slightly ajar. On the approach, he had slowed down and snuck close to the wall. Tried to make his footfalls soft and soundless. For her own amusement, Devorah mimicked stomping over. Jacob slunk around the doorway, and peered in. Devorah copied him, doing the same. The inside of the room had no outstandingly unique features, as far as rooms in a haunted house could go. Either a sitting room or the first room in a series of personal chambers, it was smaller than the main lounge Devorah had seen in her first moments in the house. The furniture was a neat mix of Neoclassical and Rococo, all awash in pastels and earth tones. Lace drapes decorated the room, and one wall was lined with cabinet after cabinet of porcelain. Devorah¡¯s eye caught on the two things in the room that immediately stood out- the two men in the room who were very much not dressed to match its style. The first was systematically going through the rows of porcelain, carefully studying the design of each item and testing its integrity. He was brown and seemed to be of Earth Asian descent. A beautifully patterned fabric was wrapped around his lower half, one even more stunning than the lace drapes in the room. The other man was someone Devorah recognized from the profiles given to her, of the people who used the ouija board. This had to be Brad! Brad was leaning against the wall, looking somewhat bruised and battered. Even his sideways baseball cap looked a bit droopy. Then Brad groaned, and pulled himself to his feet. He shook his shaggy hair. Walked a few feet back from the wall. Then promptly charged at it, throwing himself against it. He smashed against the wall with a large thump. Jacob rushed into the room, and kneeled next to the mostly likely injured man, who was once again slumped against the wall. Devorah followed, glad Jacob was going to stop this nonsense. ¡°What are you doing? Stop that, you¡¯re hurting yourself.¡± ¡°That is what I have been telling him,¡± the other man said, ¡°but will he listen to sense? No!¡± ¡°Budi, bro,¡± Brad began, giving Devorah a name for the other man, ¡°I gotta try!¡± ¡°What do you have to try?¡± Jacob asked. ¡°I don¡¯t understand?¡± Budi sighed as Brad began to talk. ¡°So you know how like, we saw the host walk through the wall? And how the walls magically opened up to let me into my room?¡± ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°I want to see if we can make other walls open too!¡± Brad said. ¡°By throwing yourself at the wall.¡± Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. ¡°Yeah!¡± Brad said proudly, thrusting his chest out like an ignorant rooster who didn¡¯t know he was next for slaughter. ¡°At a random wall. Not even the one the host went through.¡± Budi looked up at the ceiling as if asking for help. ¡°They tried that first.¡± ¡°They?¡± Jacob asked. Devorah was leaning forward in excitement- this was going to be good. ¡°Me and Sushruta and Faith were checking out that spot in the wall the host went through! But we-¡± ¡°Not to interrupt,¡± Jacob interrupted, ¡°but Faith?¡± ¡°Fight-the-good-fight-of-faith Barebone.¡± Budi said, then shook his head. ¡°Why he would need a name as long as a king¡¯s, I don¡¯t know.¡± Devorah privately agreed- the name was a bit excessive. ¡°I know who Faith is,¡± Jacob said, a bit impatient. ¡°I mean, why Faith? He¡¯s a conniving little bastard.¡± Brad paused, and tilted his head like a confused puppy. ¡°Faith? Nah bro. He¡¯s a real one. I love Mayflower dude.¡± ¡°Mayflower dude,¡± Jacob repeated, clearly dumbfounded. Brad lit up. ¡°Yeah! Mayflower dude! Anyway, we were checking out the wall and I had a great idea! If we couldn¡¯t find an opening, we had to make one. Just like in lacrosse.¡± ¡°So to do this, you decided to throw yourself at the wall?¡± ¡°No,¡± Budi said. ¡°He decided to pick up Faith and throw him at the wall.¡± Huh. Devorah suddenly prayed that her glasses would fall out of Jacob¡¯s pocket and get picked up by Brad. This guy was a riot. ¡°I¡¯m gonna need you to describe this in detail, please,¡± Jacob said. ¡°Right!¡± Brad nodded. ¡°So it was us, Sushruta and Faith. We were checking out the wall. There were no cracks in it! It was solid.¡± ¡°Like a smooth wall,¡± Sushruta added. ¡°Smooth as a shark,¡± Brad agreed, ¡°so I wanted to totally break the wall! So Faith said we should find something heavy and bam! Through the wall.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not a bad idea?¡± Jacob commented. ¡°I wonder about what¡¯s outside the manor too.¡± ¡°Yeah bro! So then Sushruta suggested-¡± Budi groaned. ¡°He suggested that we¡¯re pretty heavy! And that the wall wasn¡¯t ah, uh, a laundry load?¡± ¡°A load bearing wall,¡± Budi spoke up. ¡°Therefore, taking it down likely would not cause too much structural damage. I thought it was prudent to trust him, considering his background in civil engineering.¡± Brad pointed at Budi and grinned. ¡°Yeah! That!¡± ¡°So you threw Faith at the wall?¡± Jacob asked again. ¡°I had no part in throwing that boy at the wall!¡± Budi protested. ¡°That was all me,¡± Brad said proudly. Then his face fell, as if someone had told him that his golden retriever had run away. ¡°But the little dude wasn¡¯t heavy enough.¡± ¡°He¡¯s pretty thin,¡± Jacob agreed, ¡°but you¡¯re mostly muscle.¡± And it was true, Brad was built. His loose neon muscle tank did nothing to hide the musculature of his arms. ¡°Which is why we are here, and Brad has taken to rattling his skull.¡± Budi concluded. ¡°I tried to convince him to stop, but he will not listen to me.¡± ¡°So why here?¡± Jacob asked. ¡°I asked my bro Sushruta to find a place where I wouldn¡¯t damage the¡­ load bearing walls?¡± Brad looked to Budi for approval. ¡°Yes, so we are here and I am watching him while that Nour takes care of Faith.¡± ¡°Faith was hurt?¡± Brad winced. ¡°Just a little banged up! Nothing some ice won¡¯t fix.¡± ¡°Brad was crying,¡± Budi whispered. ¡°Just a little bit!¡± Brad sniffed. Jacob lightly patted Brad on the back. ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll be fine. Faith seems like a scrappy guy. Either way, I¡¯ll leave you to it?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll run to get Nour if Brad gets seriously hurt,¡± Budi promised. ¡°I don¡¯t know, man. Maybe it¡¯s time to give up,¡± Brad sighed, then slumped over. Despite the large bruises now wrapped around half his body, he still gave off the air of a dog deprived of its favorite treats. Encouraging this stupid behavior was surely wrong. But¡­ Devorah activated one of her charges. With uncareful hands, she flung open one of the cabinets holding ugly figurines and decorative plates. Channeling her inner cat, she knocked one over to test the waters. ¡°Bro,¡± Brad said, eyes wide. Budi dropped the plate he was holding. The melodic crack of ceramic splitting on the floor was all the encouragement Devorah needed. Pleased with her success and the reaction, Devorah found herself grinning as she systematically threw and broke every piece of porcelain in the show cabinet. Feeling a bit frisky, she even tossed one or two in Jacob¡¯s direction. He yelped and jumped out of the way, narrowly missing a figurine of a Rococo dancer to the head. ¡°What is happening?¡± Budi asked in a shaking voice while moving to press his back to the wall. ¡°It¡¯s the ghosts, bro!¡± Brad answered. ¡°Like with the ouija board!¡± By then, Devorah¡¯s charge had already run up. In all honesty, she was considering using her other one. That was kind of fun. And then Jacob ruined it. Chapter Fourteen As his eyes cast about the room, Jacob said, ¡°I think the ghosts want you to keep yeeting yourself at the wall. Bro.¡± Which was partially true. It wasn¡¯t that Devorah wanted Brad to keep throwing himself at the wall, but she did want a reaction of some kind. An acknowledgement of her existence. For all that she had wanted to escape conversation with Bell, Devorah found herself missing a viewing partner. Brad slapped his hands together. ¡°You gotta be right, man! Maybe I have to level up, hit a the wall like sixty times for it to open up. Maybe even¡­¡± His face widened into a grin. ¡°Sixty nine times!¡± Brad held his hand out towards Budi, clearly expecting some kind of response. Budi slapped his hand down. ¡°No, I disagree. I think whoever is trapped here was indeed sending you a message, but was agreeing that it was time to stop,¡± Budi said. Jacob considered the point, then conceded. ¡°Yeah, you do look a little beat up, man. Maybe you can get through the wall another way? What if, instead of banging, you try small-scale carving. Like with a spoon?¡± Budi gave Jacob a strange look. ¡°You want to try carving into a wall with a spoon?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Jacob said, his face starting to turn red. ¡°Little by little, like in the movies?¡± ¡°Not to diss you, man,¡± Brad started, ¡°but wouldn¡¯t that take forever? I bet like, a knife would go faster.¡± Jacob huffed. Oh boy. ¡°I bet it would still get you to the other side faster than just throwing yourself at the wall! And it would get you less attention, too. Everyone in the house knows about the stupid shit you¡¯ve been up to!¡± Brad¡¯s face scrunched up- he was clearly hurt. Both from Jacob¡¯s words, and the many, many bruises painting his body. ¡°Yo Jacob, it¡¯s okay. You can chill, it¡¯s no big deal.¡± In Devorah¡¯s experience, telling someone to calm down rarely had the desired effect. ¡°I am so chill right now!¡± Brad and Budi exchanged a look. ¡°Jacob, my man, you¡¯re kind of turning purple. You okay, dude?¡± Brad asked. ¡°I just don¡¯t get why you would call my idea stupid when you¡¯ve literally been throwing yourself at the wall! Why even ask for my help?¡± Jacob yelled. As expected- with the vein bulging in Jacob¡¯s neck, telling him to calm down clearly did the reverse. Brad put his hands up in surrender, and Budi stepped forward to talk. ¡°We did not ask for your help, did we? And if you think it is such a good idea to carve into the wall with a spoon, why don¡¯t you get one and show us the proper technique?¡± Yeesh. ¡°Fine! Maybe I will!¡± Jacob stormed out of the room, dragging a reluctant Devorah behind him. Goodbye, Brad. Devorah hoped she could catch up on his antics again sometime soon. ¡°No hard feelings!¡± Devorah heard Brad call out after Jacob. It was too late- he was already marching down the hall, seemingly blind to the figures up ahead in the hall. It looked like Kefilwe and Mathilde up ahead, examining some kind of portrait on the wall. Kefilwe turned her head to greet Jacob as he approached, but either he didn¡¯t see her or he just ignored her. Jacob ignored Kefilwe and Mathilde so well, he knocked into Mathilde as he passed, stepping on the hem of her habit. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. As Mathilde tripped forward, Jacob huffed out a small ¡°sorry,¡± as Kefilwe gasped and pushed him to the other side of the hall. ¡°What was that fo-¡± Jacob started to yell and Mathilde fell towards the portrait. With a bang, she slammed into the gilded frame. ¡°Mathilde!¡± Kefilwe screamed. The nun turned to look back at her with scared, wide eyes. For a second, Mathilde struggled, twisting and turning, pulling. But she couldn¡¯t move her right arm- the one that slammed into the portrait. Devorah moved in to take a closer look- there was some kind of adhesive sticking her arm to the frame. ¡°Stay back!¡± Mathilde shouted as Kefilwe went to rush towards her. But it was too late. For a second, there was the sound of something mechanical whirring up- perhaps gears turning, or something activating. Then spikes burst from the portrait. Jacob screamed, almost drowning out the slick sound of spikes bursting through flesh. From Devorah¡¯s angle, it was difficult to see the extent of the damage, but two spikes went clean through Mathilde¡¯s shoulder. Devorah distantly noted she was lucky- just a few centimeters to the left, and one would have gone through her neck. ¡°God have mercy,¡± Mathilde whimpered, wide eyed. Jacob was still screaming, gasping for breath, but Mathilde seemed strangely calm. Perhaps it was from the shock of it all, the adrenaline pumping through her to keep her upright. The spikes that didn¡¯t find a target retreated back into the portrait- the two buried neat in Mathilde¡¯s shoulder remained. Blood trickled down her white robes, thankfully at a slow pace. Devorah hated to admit it, but in a way, this was one of the kinder traps that could be in the Champions¡¯ League. The reason? The spikes seemed like they would remain in Mathilde¡¯s shoulder until she was wrenched away. That gave her a better chance against bleeding out. Kefilwe managed the last few feet until finally, she was wrapping her arms around Mathilde, forcing Mathilde to look into her eyes. Using her good arm, Mathilde hazily prodded at the spikes protruding from her body. ¡°Oh dear,¡± she said, as if in a daze. ¡°Mathilde, are you here with me? Are you doing okay?¡± Kefilwe asked, terror casting a sad pallor over her normally warm face. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I am quite injured. Oh dear,¡± Mathilde said. With every second, more blood trickled from her twin wounds. Her eyes were steadily growing more glassy. If it weren¡¯t for the spikes, Devorah was sure she would have trouble leaning upright. ¡°Oh dear,¡± Mathilde said again, and gasped. It was likely that she still had adrenaline coursing through her and wasn¡¯t quite feeling the extent of her pain yet, but the realization of her situation was likely hitting her. Jacob finally shook from his stupor and approached. ¡°Mathilde,¡± he said, tears welling up behind his glasses. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, I didn¡¯t know, I didn¡¯t mean it.¡± ¡°You are forgiven,¡± Mathilde answered. Kefilwe¡¯s eyes turned towards Jacob. Strangely enough, Devorah could tell she agreed with Mathilde. Jacob actually had been forgiven- not just by Mathilde, but by Kefilwe as well. How strange. If someone had hurt Anna, even if accidentally, Devorah wasn¡¯t sure she would have been able to forgive. And definitely not so surely, so easily. ¡°Jacob, just¡­ Can you get Nour?¡± Kefilwe asked. Jacob nodded, standing there. Kefilwe¡¯s eyes sharpened. Ah, there it was. Kefilwe may have already forgiven, if only for Mathilde''s sake, but that didn''t mean she would stand for any chance of making her injury worse. ¡°Jacob. Go!¡± ¡°Right, sorry, sorry. Really, I didn¡¯t mean it,¡± he said again. ¡°Jacob!¡± Kefilwe nearly snarled. ¡°I¡¯ll just-¡± Jacob pointed down the hallway, then set off in a run. Dragging Devorah along, of course. As she was pulled away, Devorah watched Kefilwe carefully prop Mathilde up. The gentle action, being swallowed up by distance and that spot growing further and further from Devorah, it made her wonder. Was Devorah¡¯s cohort the only ghosts in the house? Mathilde would probably survive if Nour was as skilled as Devorah would have liked to believe. The nun was breathing, even if the pace came rapidly. Most of her blood was still in her body thanks to the spikes staying in. As long as she didn¡¯t bleed out and go into shock, or develop an infection later, Mathilde would probably make it. Devorah hoped so, if only for Jacob¡¯s sake. She wasn¡¯t sure if an accident like that would be labeled as a murder, and cause an investigation, but if it was¡­ Well. He was as good as dead. Devorah didn¡¯t love the guy, but she didn¡¯t want to see him dead. Devorah didn¡¯t really want to see anyone dead. Not anyone else, not anymore. Seeing Mathilde, it made her wonder. Devorah thought her death was swift. Sudden pain, then nothingness. What if she had just passed out? Gone into shock? What if there had been more? What if her last moments had been spent bleeding out, gasping? Reaching out for someone who hopefully couldn¡¯t come? What had Henry thought, as he watched Devorah die? Had he cradled her, as Kefilwe now cradled Mathilde? Had he ran just as Jacob was running now? Or had he done something else. Had he dragged Devorah¡¯s body and staged it, making a game? A final puzzle to cap the season. One last mystery to be solved. Devorah wanted to know. For all that her bodiless body was shaking, and her breathless breaths were racing, Devorah wanted to know. And when Jacob finally made it to Nour¡¯s make-shift infirmary, Devorah watched as they hurriedly gathered supplies before Nour rushed to Mathilde¡¯s side. One bed was curtained off- Devorah could make out someone¡¯s form resting. Another bed lay open, likely soon to be filled by Mathilde. Devorah watched Nour disappear, just as Kefilwe and Mathilde had, and she wanted to know. Had anyone ran too, when they saw that Devorah was gone? Chapter Fifteen Aimless, Jacob stood in the doorway of the infirmary. He looked down at his hands, sightless. Devorah kind of felt a little bad for him. He wasn¡¯t a bad guy, not really, and he hadn¡¯t meant to hurt anyone. Of course, not that having good-to-mediocre intentions while accidentally almost killing a nun made almost killing that nun okay. But Mathilde already forgave. As shaky as he mind probably was from the shock, Devorah knew she was probably sincere and would likely reiterate. Even if she couldn¡¯t truly forgive Jacob, Mathilde likely would announce she had anyway, if only to keep up holy appearances. Either way, Jacob waiting in the infirmary made Devorah¡¯s life¡­ Not-life. A little easier. For one, it meant that when Nour and Kefilwe managed to get Mathilde back, Devorah would likely have front row seats to the action. Secondly, it gave Devorah a moment to inspect the infirmary. Ironically, the bedroom had originally belonged to Mathilde herself. Like the one Mathilde, Nour and Kefilwe shared, the room had been heavily doctored. The room was split into two sections. The side of the room closer to the bathroom had two beds jammed in, both with ramshackle curtains hanging above. One bed was empty, curtains pulled back to reveal clean white sheets and a thin blanket. The other was curtained off, and Devorah could see the thin outline of someone sleeping. The other side of the room had two desks pushed together to create a large table. There were lots of little bottles on its surface, and Devorah moved closer to take a look. Someone had taken the time to write notes about each little bottle, as each sat on top of a piece of paper. The notes looked like they were written in Arabic- the notetaker was probably Nour, then. Though she found the script beautiful, Devorah couldn¡¯t make out what any of the notes said. That left her with the bottles and jars themselves. A good number were unfamiliar to Devorah, and based on the labels on the bottles, they were meant to hail from the time period of the haunted mansion. It was proclaimed panacea after panacea, each little bottle claiming to have the cure from everything from headaches to hysteria to hemorrhoids. A few bottles were cleaned out, and held concoctions that looked a lot like what Georgie had been forced to drink the night before. It was likely those bottles were filled with Nour¡¯s homemade brews. But there was one bottle that really caught Devorah¡¯s attention for a few reasons. The first was that she recognized it. Cold Killer was a staple in every modern medicine cabinet. Just seeing the bottle itself brought back memories of her childhood. Of nights curled up next to her mother, waiting for the medicine to kick in and take her cough away. Even though the syrup worked fast, her grandmother insisted pairing it with soup would make it more effective. Devorah could almost smell the chicken soup, with its carrots and dill and special bite-sized matzah balls¡­ Before she could fall into a depression, wondering if she would ever be able to have her family¡¯s soup again, Devorah forced herself to focus on the more important thing. The Cold Killer bottle itself was outlined in a bright red in Devorah¡¯s vision, calling it into attention. After a few seconds of consistent, confused staring, a small identifying label popped into Devorah¡¯s sightline. COLD KILLER SPONSORED BY TULLIP Ah. That explained that. Product Placement. Devorah just watched that flickering red outline around the bottle. Fond memories battled with the reality staring back at her, right in the face. This medicine from her childhood, this cure for the common cold¡­ How could something that made so many lives easier be part of this game? How could Devorah reconcile the healing with the hurt? It was at that point that a large crowd rushed into the infirmary, batting Jacob out of the way. Devorah herself dove to the side, narrowly avoiding getting poofed by the combined panic and efforts of Nour, Kefilwe, and newcomers Tiberius and Lupe as they hurriedly brought Mathilde onto the open bed. Tiberius, who was holding Mathilde, carefully placed her down. Nour immediately ran over to the medical supplies and grabbed a few items, while Kefilwe kept pressure on Mathilde¡¯s wounds. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Lupe stood guard at the door, arms crossed, face serious. And for all that Devorah wondered if Mathilde would die, and in doing so join Devorah in her unhappy haunts, that clinical side of her succumbed to the pity building in her once-human heart. Mathilde looked so small on that bed. Her pale skin was quickly becoming a full-on pallor, the color nearly matching her white habit. Mathilde¡¯s breaths came fast and laborious, and her eyes moved about the room, searching. For a moment, Devorah thought Mathilde was meeting her eyes. Before shock could set in, Mathilde¡¯s eyes looked up towards the ceiling. Her lips formed silent words, likely in prayer. After a few moments, Tiberius wordlessly took over keeping pressure on the wound while Kefilwe ran past a silent Jacob, clearly intent on something. Nour was readying a set of bandages along with a series of potions and ointments. Eventually, Nour washed their hands and pulled out a pair of scissors before moving forward towards Mathilde. Carefully, they set the scissors to the habit, and began to cut, when Mathilde thrashed on the bed like a being possessed. ¡°No!¡± Mathilde screamed. Her lost eyes turned wild. With her uninjured arm she beat at Tiberius who was, at that point, both putting pressure on the wound and keeping Mathilde in place. ¡°Not with any men in the room! Nour, please!¡± Nour loomed over Mathilde, still inscrutable behind the mask. ¡°Mathilde, I beseech you, please be reasonable.¡± ¡°I beg of you,¡± Mathilde sobbed. ¡°Please. Please, Nour. No one can see. I can¡¯t let anyone see.¡± Tiberius, with his hand still on Mathilde¡¯s shoulder, cast a look towards Nour. Nour was silent and still. Then came an audible sigh. ¡°It will make my job more difficult, and will increase your risk of illness.¡± Nour said. Mathilde stopped. ¡°Please,¡± she whispered. There was another sigh from behind the mask, then Nour waved Tiberius away. ¡°Tiberius, Lupe, please. Return to your patrol. Mathilde is in good hands, and I am capable of finishing this on my own. I appreciate your assistance in moving Mathilde, but I must bid you to take your leave.¡± Hands still bloody, Tiberius nodded in his assent before rejoining with Lupe. Lupe smacked him on the shoulder in a companionable manner. ¡°Come on, big guy. Let¡¯s get your hands clean.¡± She looked in at Nour. ¡°Let us know if you need anything. We¡¯ll be in the area to make sure no one tries to take advantage.¡± Nour nodded. ¡°Jacob, you as well.¡± As if shocked out of a daze, Jacob jolted. ¡°Right,¡± he said. Hesitated. Then, ¡°Mathilde, I am so sorry.¡± ¡°Now is not the time,¡± Nour barked, then made shooing motions. But Mathilde turned her head to look at Jacob. ¡°As I said, you are forgiven in both my eyes and the eyes of God. But please, Jacob. Leave me to my healing.¡± He nodded, a jerky thing. ¡°Yeah, of course. Thank you for being so understanding. I¡¯ll¡­¡± And he gestured towards the door, where Lupe and Tiberius seemed to be waiting for him. ¡°Go,¡± Nour said. ¡°And close the door behind you.¡± Finally, Jacob did as instructed. Lupe was waiting for him out in the hall. ¡°Where did Tiberius go?¡± Jacob asked. ¡°Went to clean his hands,¡± Lupe said simply. Devorah watched as they simply stared at each other. Then Lupe sighed, and threw her arm around Jacob¡¯s neck. ¡°Come walk with me,¡± she said. Jacob squirmed in her grasp, but acquiesced. Slowly and in the disjointed manner of those unfamiliar with each other, they ambled down the hall in an uncomfortable silence. Devorah trailed behind. ¡°So,¡± Lupe began once they were far enough, ¡°what happened?¡± Her tone was casual enough, but Devorah could see her hand tighten around Jacob¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Nothing!¡± Jacob said quickly, before immediately course correcting. ¡°I mean, obviously something did happen. But it was an accident.¡± Jacob paused, clearly waiting for Lupe to ask more. But she said nothing. Nervously, he continued. ¡°I was going down the hall and bumped into Mathilde, and then she bumped into one of the traps. If anything, she shouldn¡¯t have been standing so close to a trap! I mean, if she knew it was a trap.¡± ¡°She did,¡± Lupe said simply. ¡°I thought so, based on how Kefilwe reacted. What were they even doing there?¡± Jacob asked. Lupe just shook her head. ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter right now. Jacob, I just want you to know one thing.¡± She released him from her hold, and looked Jacob right in the face. Though Jacob was of an average height for a man, Lupe was a tall woman. She looked down on Jacob. It was kind of hot, to be honest. ¡°You need to watch yourself,¡± she hissed. Jacob swallowed. ¡°I will,¡± he promised. Lupe continued. ¡°And you better pray that Mathilde makes it through this. Or it¡¯s your head on the block.¡± ¡°I know,¡± he said, miserably. ¡°Good,¡± Lupe said. She stepped back. ¡°I¡¯m going to be in the area. Let me know if you need anything.¡± And she stalked off down the hall. Jacob just buried his head in his hands. Chapter Sixteen The rest of the day was uneventful. Devorah was forced to stand idly by as Georgie and Gabriel did their best to comfort Jacob, literally spending hours reassuring the man that he was safe and a good person. At least Bell was there to help numb some of the boredom. Bell was fine company. She was sweet, and could fill every uncomfortable silence. But she wasn¡¯t who Devorah really wished was with her. After calming down, it became easier to admit that Devorah wished Anna was there. Anna, with her bright eyes and scathing tone. Anna, with her many questions and many answers. Anna was one of the only people who could keep up with Devorah when she really got thinking. And above all that, she was funny. She had hope and faith where Devorah had none. Devorah desperately needed something to have faith in, because she was never going to have enough faith in herself. Not-life got vaguely interesting again when Mathilde came down for dinner, flanked by a nervous Kefilwe and quietly tired Nour. Devorah assumed there was no set dinner time, based on how the two trios were the only ones in the dining hall at the time. And it was likely both had not expected the other to be there, based on the way Jacob quickly paled when Mathilde walked into the room. Still, Mathilde graciously breached the wall of awkwardness and sat right next to Georgie as Kefilwe made her a plate of some kind of roasted fowl and mixed vegetables. Nour sat protectively on her other side. Conversation flowed amiably enough, though no one brought up the extremely large elephant in the room, the one that bulged up near the arms of Mathilde¡¯s new, clean habit. After dinner, everyone retreated back to their rooms for bed. Devorah and Bell spent hours playing I Spy, then Chopsticks, and then the most boring game of Never Have I Ever in history. Turns out, two nerds didn¡¯t have too many embarrassing stories or wild and crazy acts up their sleeves. Who would have guessed. During a lull in conversation, Devorah checked her notifications. Nothing new. That was disappointing, she had really been hoping that the analyst or even Riley would have gotten back to her. Then the sleeping occupants in the room were woken to loud, persistent pounding on the door. Even as Georgie, Jacob and Gabriel hastily dressed themselves, whoever was on the other side kept knocking. That was never a good sign. When Georgie finally took charge and opened the door, Devorah knew her suspicions were correct. It was Brad on the other side of the door, cap in one of his hands. The other was still raised, mid-knock. When he looked up, Devorah saw that his eyes were filled with tears. ¡°Brad?¡± Georgie said, apprehension clear on her face. Brad¡¯s head lowered again, strikingly solemn compared to the vivacious young man throwing all caution to the wind who Devorah had sort-of met yesterday. ¡°Mathilde¡¯s dead,¡± Brad said. ¡°The investigation is starting.¡± Georgie¡¯s grip on the door tightened, and she turned away, having a coughing fit. Gabriel rushed in to support her. Mathilde? Damn. Guess someone decided to shoot their shot. Devorah attempted to muster up some kind of emotion about it. Sadness, for the kindhearted woman she barely knew. Anger over another death. Maybe even some misbegotten kind of gallow¡¯s humor. But there was nothing for her to dredge up. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Bell looked like she felt something. Her eyes went wide, and her hand was pressed over her mouth. Bell had spent more time with Mathilde and her friends than Devorah had. It made sense then, that she would be sadder about this death. But it still made Devorah question one of her previously made conclusions- that the AIs had their emotions tampered with. Bell could have been putting on an act, or moving in the way that she knew she was supposed to. Someone dies, you react with grief. That¡¯s how it was in almost every culture out there. But Devorah knew Bell. And Devorah knew that she wouldn¡¯t put on a show just to fit in with Devorah. Mathilde was likely dead, and Bell was sad about it. Mathilde was likely dead and all Devorah could think about was another investigation starting. ¡°No,¡± Jacob gasped. ¡°But we saw her last night at dinner. She was up, she was eating! She was gonna be fine!¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think she¡¯s fine, bro.¡± Brad shifted on his feet then wiped at his eyes. In between coughs, Georgie managed to ask, ¡°did it look like she died from her injuries?¡± Brad shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not a doctor, babe. I didn¡¯t see her yet, either. Mathilde¡­¡± He paused, and his face scrunched up. ¡°Her injuries? Did something happen?¡± Jacob gripped the back of his neck, fear evident in his every little twitch and stutter. ¡°After we¡­ I ran into Mathilde and Kefilwe and Mathilde had an accident. With one of the traps. But Nour was taking care of her! And she looked like she was gonna get better!¡± Brad shook his head. ¡°Something like that happened to one of my lacrosse buddies. We were in training and the dude took a bad fall. He got right back up after, but after the game ended he learned his leg got mega fucked. Bro was still on crutches last time I saw him.¡± Brad offered a weak smile. ¡°Was still able to do mad keg stands, though. It¡¯s all in the core!¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Jacob said, weak. ¡°I think I need to throw up.¡± He ran to the bathroom, leaving Brad with Georgie and Gabriel. Georgie¡¯s coughing fit was subsiding, so Gabriel left her at the door to run after Jacob. Georgie looked at Brad, and Brad looked at Georgie. She squinted at him, then said, ¡°are you alright? Her death is a tragedy, of course, but you don¡¯t look too good.¡± Brad crumbled and latched onto a mystified Georgie. ¡°I¡¯m not okay!¡± He whimpered into Georgie¡¯s shoulder. Georgie patted him on the back a few times. With their massive size difference, it looked remarkably uncomfortable. ¡°My mom¡¯s from the Philippines, so all that Catholic stuff is really important to her. Mathilde kind of reminded me of her and I miss her. I miss my mom, Georgie.¡± Tears began to fall, and Brad bunched up the bottom of his shirt and cried into it. ¡°I want my mom!¡± ¡°You¡¯ll see her again soon, promise,¡± Georgie offered, eyes wide. Brad¡¯s sobbing grew more desperate. ¡°But what if someone murders me! My mom¡¯ll never even know what happened!¡± Georgie allowed herself a moment of panic, looking to the side for reassurance that wasn¡¯t there. Bell made a sympathetic cooing sound, but Devorah just found a morbid humor in the situation. Devorah was almost certain it wasn¡¯t Mathilde¡¯s injuries that killed her, but there was really only one way to find out. Either way, Jacob was much more anxious than Devorah thought he would be. But realistically, maybe this would help even his odds. Gain him some sympathy points from the viewers, or even the other members of the cast themselves. If Devorah was going to pity anyone aside from poor, dead Mathilde, it would be Brad. He was a little dumb, but he had a good spirit. And with a snort, she decided she would pity Georgie too, for having to juggle all these men on top of her tuberculosis. Eventually, Jacob returned from the bathroom with Gabriel nervously fretting behind him. Georgie was awkwardly patting Brad¡¯s back, and the second her boys returned, she transferred Brad over to Gabriel. ¡°I¡¯m going to go with Jacob to find the others, make sure everyone knows the three of us were together last night,¡± Georgie said with a cough, tucking her arm into Jacob¡¯s elbow. He still looked queasy, but was markedly improved. ¡°I have a feeling it wasn¡¯t Jacob who did her in. With Mathilde all injured, it would be easy to strike a killing blow.¡± Smart girl. ¡°Either way,¡± Georgie continued, ¡°we have to make ourselves present. But Gabe, why don¡¯t you and Brad take a minute to yourselves? Tell him about your mama and sisters, Gabe.¡± Gabriel, looking a bit apprehensive, nodded. ¡°You feeling homesick, Brad? Don¡¯t you worry, everyone knows you didn¡¯t do nothing to nobody. I¡¯ll tell you about the homestead, and you can tell me about your mama, and then we can pray together for Miss Mathilde.¡± Brad sniffled. ¡°I¡¯d like that. You¡¯re one excellent dude, Gabe.¡± ¡°So are you, Brad,¡± he answered, a little out of his depth again, before beginning to weave a tale about horses and young cattle. Devorah waved goodbye to Bell as Jacob and Georgie left them to their stories and their prayers. They set off down the hall, following a clear trail of loud arguing coming from the direction of the dining hall. The investigation had begun. Chapter Seventeen Devorah walked into chaos. Pure, unadulterated mess. Now, Devorah was never a devoted viewer of the Champions¡¯ League. She didn¡¯t know what the typical investigation was like. But Devorah was used to the orderly affairs run by Anna, John and Jimcent. Evidence was cataloged, statements were taken, and a period of hearty debate interspersed by field trips to various parts of the stage was Devorah¡¯s norm. Not this. The kitchen was a disaster. Nearly a dozen bodies were crammed into the space, each one crying or yelling over each other. Devorah hadn¡¯t taken a chance to examine the kitchen, but she assumed it didn¡¯t usually look like this. Food and drink were spilled out on the tile floor, almost making it seem like a giant had vomited all over. Super gross. Piles of plates, cups and cutlery balanced haphazardly on countertops and the small center table. And then there was the corpse. The area surrounding it was the only clean area in the kitchen. Even the food mess on the floor stopped a few inches away, as if beholden to an unspoken arrangement. Before the Champions¡¯ League, Devorah didn¡¯t know death. She had elderly relatives who had passed away, but in accordance with Jewish tradition, they were buried as soon as possible. There was no open casket, no intimacy with a corpse. They died, they were buried. When you died in the Champions¡¯ League, your corpse was not afforded those same rituals, or the rituals of their own homes and cultures. Most often, it went like this- you were murdered, most often in the night, then your corpse was either left there or moved to another location. In most cases, it would take hours before your body would be found. Sometimes it was days. Weeks. In one outstanding case, months. Devorah didn¡¯t know what happened to corpses after the investigation period. Were they returned to families? Friends? What about the corpses of those pulled from different eras? Most likely, the bodies were destroyed in the cheapest way possible. With the neurological data already extracted, the Champions¡¯ League and Barracuda Media likely didn¡¯t have any use for the flesh. It was enough that it was present for the investigation. The first body Devorah saw had been Feniks¡¯. They had been beaten so badly by Philip, their murderer, that the only way to identify them was by elimination. By seeing who never showed up at the investigation. Devorah had known Feniks was going to die¡­ Wait. Why had she known Feniks was going to die? There was a reason. A very important reason¡­ The sharp warning pain in her brain set off again, knocking Devorah¡¯s thoughts off course. In a way, she was glad for it. Firstly, she didn¡¯t want to think about Feniks¡¯ brutal death. And second, even if nothing she could do would matter, Devorah wanted to pay attention to the investigation. So. The corpse of Mathilde. It looked rather peaceful for the corpse of someone murdered in the Champions¡¯ League. No visible wounds as far as Devorah could see. Not that she could see much, with the habit. If it wasn¡¯t for the uproar, Devorah could have been convinced she was taking a nap. Nour was standing protectively over the body, much like a bird warding off predators. Kefilwe was the only one allowed close. She was draped over Mathilde, sobbing. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Devorah took a moment to scan the rest of the room. Most of the others were somewhat familiar to her. Lupe was systematically tearing the kitchen apart, dumping even more food on the floor. A woman Devorah recognized from the seance profile, the small woman with the fine, multicolored skirt, was clearly trying to prevent this obvious food waste. Tiberius was arguing with a man Devorah was quickly able to identify as Faith, thanks to his conservative, Puritan outfit. Budi and another man with plain garments wrapped around his waist were in an argument with Nour. What was most exciting to Devorah, though, was the man standing next to Budi and the stranger. Though he was almost unrecognizable without what Devorah had come to consider his signature hat, his presence brought Devorah a great sense of relief. John Watson was a man of average height and weight. He wore a Victorian police uniform and was mostly unremarkable aside from the bloody mess that made up his stomach. ¡°John!¡± Devorah called out over the chaos. Thankfully, he managed to hear her. John turned from his conversation and trotted over to Devorah, neatly avoiding contact with the living. Once he reached her, they stood facing each other. Awkwardly. In life, they hadn¡¯t ever talked much outside of investigations. They had just moved in different circles during their tenure in the Champions¡¯ League. But wait, hadn¡¯t John been one of those lone wolf types? Maybe? Not that it really mattered much anymore. Being from the same game filled Devorah with the spirit of camaraderie. ¡°Devorah,¡± John grunted out in a very masculine way. Ah, yes. That was why they hadn¡¯t spoken much. ¡°John,¡± Devorah repeated, matching the gruff tone. ¡°Who did you come with?¡± John pointed back towards Budi and the unknown man. ¡°Sushruta. Engineer from the Indus River Valley. You?¡± It was nice to be able to put a face to the name. He was the one who had been exploring with Brad and Budi. ¡°Ah, I¡¯m with Jacob.¡± Devorah gestured towards Jacob- it seemed Tiberius had given up on Faith and was busy grilling Jacob now. The man was sweating bullets. John nodded and said nothing else. Truly, a man renowned for his verbosity. ¡°So,¡± Devorah continued, ¡°did your Sushruta do it? Jacob didn¡¯t. He was with Georgie and Gabriel all night, sleeping. Bell is with us too, Gabriel has her token.¡± ¡°Bell is a good woman,¡± John said. ¡°And no, the perpetrator wasn¡¯t Sushruta. My money is on either the bird or the crying one.¡± Right. For all that John didn¡¯t speak much, he did tend to be pretty good at one thing- reading body language. It wasn¡¯t an exact science, but at least he wasn¡¯t a phrenologist. Forensic science wasn¡¯t even in its infancy while John worked. It was basically at its conception point. And that led to John needing to find his answers through different means, means that typically came in handy during most Champions¡¯ League games. ¡°What makes you say that?¡± Devorah asked, wanting to learn more. ¡°Everyone else is panicking.¡± John looked towards the door. ¡°Not everyone is here yet. Might change my answer then.¡± Devorah looked around again. He was right. Everyone was panicking, except for Kefilwe and Nour. Kefilwe was in deep mourning, and Nour¡­ Well, it was difficult to discern how Nour was feeling at the best of times, with the robe and mask. Even so, Devorah spoke her thoughts out loud, saying, ¡°but isn¡¯t it possible that someone is joining in the chaos just to blend in?¡± ¡°It is,¡± John said, ¡°but I doubt it.¡± Fair enough. Devorah wasn¡¯t going to base her own judgment based on just that, though. She wanted to see some real proof, a real investigation. Someone had to step up and call the group to order, and that was just as Lupe did. Seemingly done for now with her argument with the other woman, Lupe grabbed two pots, stood up on a chair, and banged them together. ¡°Everyone! Attention!¡± The room quieted almost immediately. Even Kefilwe¡¯s loud sobs hushed to whimpers. Devorah was impressed. Lupe had a way of commanding attention from a crowd that both spoke of experience and a natural charisma. She was beautiful, with her bright red hair and stringent posture. If she had wanted Devorah¡¯s attention, she would have had it almost any day. ¡°Thank you,¡± Lupe said once all eyes were on her. ¡°I know this came to a disastrous start, but we need to start working together now. Let¡¯s all move into the dining hall, sit down, and start hammering out what we need to know to avenge Mathilde¡¯s death.¡± No one moved. ¡°Go!¡± She barked. And without complaint, everyone aside from Kefilwe began to file out of the room and move into the dining hall. Before joining them, Lupe pulled Jacob and Georgie aside. ¡°Where¡¯s Brad? And Gabriel?¡± ¡°Brad needed a minute to himself,¡± Georgie explained, then coughed into her sleeve. ¡°Why¡¯d you dump everything out? It¡¯s such a waste of food. I¡¯m sure Xoco told you too.¡± Bless Georgie for finally giving Devorah a name for her. ¡°I¡¯ll explain in a minute,¡± Lupe answered. ¡°But Jacob, I just want you to know that you should be clear. We¡¯re pretty sure it wasn¡¯t Mathilde¡¯s injuries that did her in.¡± Jacob let out a huge sigh of relief. ¡°Oh thank god. I mean, I¡¯m still devastated over Mathilde¡¯s death, but I didn¡¯t want to die either.¡± Georgie squeezed Jacob¡¯s arm. ¡°I understand. Now, it¡¯s time to really get this investigation moving. I¡¯m going to be relying on you this time, okay?¡± Lupe said. ¡°Let me gather up Kefilwe. I¡¯ll meet you in there.¡± ¡°You can rely on us!¡± Georgie nodded. Jacob echoed the sentiment, and as a group, they entered the dining hall. Chapter Eighteen The tables of the dining hall had been pushed together by someone, making a perfect space for a large group of people to have a hearty debate. Devorah took a moment to study everyone present. Tiberius looked stern as ever, a watchful eye on Faith, the man next to him. Faith leaned back in his chair with a smug look- Devorah was sure she was going to find out why he was so smug later. Next to him was Xoco, who was talking with Nour in low voices. The seat next to Nour was empty, likely waiting to be filled by Kefilwe once she was ready. The other side of the table had Budi, then Sushruta with a watchful John sentinel behind him. Thankfully, Jacob found his seat next to Sushruta, then Georgie went next to him. ¡°I¡¯m glad we¡¯re right next to each other,¡± Devorah told John. ¡°I¡¯m sure Gabriel will sit next to Georgie and Jacob too, so we¡¯ll be with Bell. Just like a little reunion.¡± John nodded in response. Lupe came into the room and helped a still crying Kefilwe into her seat next to Nour. Nour reached out and wrapped their arm around Kefilwe, who gladly leaned into the embrace. Lupe then took her own seat at the head of the table. ¡°Brad and Gabriel will be here soon. Has anyone seen them?¡± Ah, the mysterious girl group that kept popping up in conversation. ¡°Have you met them?¡± Devorah asked John. ¡°No.¡± Of course he hadn¡¯t. And it seemed that none of the others knew where they were. Lupe pressed a hand to her face. ¡°Brad was supposed to get everyone. He¡¯ll probably forget now¡­¡± Georgie raised a hand. ¡°I¡¯ll go get all of them, ma¡¯am.¡± ¡°Thank you, Georgie. Try and come back as quickly as you can.¡± Georgie scurried out of the room. Jacob looked after her, and Devorah could tell he didn¡¯t want her to leave him alone. Lupe didn¡¯t seem to be suspicious of him, but with his main allies out of the room, he could be an easy target for someone trying to shrug off blame. ¡°If we may begin,¡± Nour said, inclining their beaked head towards Lupe, who nodded in assent, ¡°then I will report that Mathilde- that the cause of death is likely poison.¡± ¡°Good doctor, are you sure of that?¡± Faith, the Puritan-looking man, asked. ¡°I am sure,¡± Nour said, quietly. ¡°If you insist, I can explain how I came to that conclusion.¡± ¡°Please do,¡± Lupe said. ¡°The most telling sign is the scent of her- of the body¡¯s mouth. It smelled of vomit, which the victim likely asphyxiated from. Coupled with constricted pupils and no visible sign of struggle, poison is the most likely cause.¡± ¡°That is a reasonable conclusion to come to. I am in favor of moving forward, and only revisiting the cause of death should more evidence surface that suggests another cause,¡± Sushruta, John¡¯s charge said. John nodded in agreement. Xoco clicked her tongue. ¡°It would have been easier to examine the kitchen if it hadn¡¯t been torn apart!¡± This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Tiberius crossed his arms. ¡°We don¡¯t know where the poison came from yet. Whoever is holding us here will replace the spoiled food with fresh offerings, as they have been doing for weeks now.¡± ¡°He¡¯s right.¡± Lupe said. But that was interesting, wasn¡¯t it? Lupe was modern, from the current era just like Devorah. She should know about the Champions¡¯ League. True, there were civilizations that were still out of contact, and a few more that eschewed entertainment like the Champions¡¯ League, but it was more likely than not that she would know. In Devorah¡¯s game, she and the other modern cast members were allowed to tell historic cast members like John and Anna what was going on. But considering the cast make-up, maybe it was different here. Maybe something was keeping Lupe from telling- maybe something like the headaches Devorah had been getting? That, or¡­ Maybe Lupe was the Champion? ¡°Either way,¡± Lupe continued, ¡°let¡¯s get back on task. Mathilde is counting on us.¡± Xoco took the chance to speak up again. ¡°While you and Tiberius were ruining our food, did you at least find something that seemed poisoned?¡± ¡°Nothing obvious,¡± Lupe conceded. ¡°We don¡¯t have the facilities to test the food though, and I don¡¯t want to risk anyone sampling the floor food. Another body on our hands is the last thing we need.¡± Devorah saw Jacob tense, then speak. ¡°What if it wasn¡¯t the food? What if it was the trap? What if there was poison on the spikes?¡± That was pretty brave of him to offer. If that was the case, it was his head on the line. ¡°What spikes?¡± Sushruta asked, raising an eyebrow. ¡°There was an incident yesterday,¡± Nour began to explain. ¡°In the afternoon, Jacob accidentally pushed Mathilde into a portrait, triggering a trap. At the time, Kefilwe and Mathilde had managed to identify the location of the trap using that strange wand Kefilwe found. When Mathilde fell, several spikes emerged from the portrait, impaling her left arm and shoulder. Thankfully, I was able to quickly administer medical help and Mathilde seemed like she would recover.¡± ¡°Wand?¡± Jacob asked, almost as if reading Devorah¡¯s mind. Kefilwe sniffed, then reached into the pocket of her overalls and pulled out a thin rod about half a foot long with a clear crystal on the top. Within seconds, the item was glowing with a red light. Seeing as no one else reacted to it, Devorah had to assume that it was some kind of product placement. ¡°A week or so ago I found this in my room, wrapped up like a gift,¡± she said. ¡°I thought¡­ I don¡¯t know, that it was for fun? At first, Mathilde didn¡¯t like it. Thought it was witchcraft.¡± Kefilwe paused. ¡°I don¡¯t think her opinion on it ever changed. But when it started glowing, gleaming ever so brightly the closer I got to a trap? I thought it was heaven sent. With how Loowa died¡­¡± ¡°Loowa never would have died if she had a trap detector,¡± Lupe said in a low voice. ¡°It does sound like someone wanted to protect you, somehow.¡± Loowa? Who was Loowa? A tear rolled down Kefilwe¡¯s cheek. She wiped it away, then said, ¡°I know. And we were using it to try and protect everyone else, too.¡± Budi clapped his hands together. ¡°You¡¯ve been the person labeling where all the traps are!¡± Kefilwe nodded. ¡°The three of us,¡± she said, clearly including Nour. Nour¡¯s head bowed. ¡°We were foolish. We should have informed you all of our actions and intentions. Possibly even included Sushruta, along with Lupe and Tiberius if no one else. We thought we could protect you all. I failed. Please forgive me.¡± Jacob waved his hands. ¡°There¡¯s nothing to forgive! I should have been more careful. If I hadn¡¯t fucked up, Mathilde might still be here.¡± ¡°If poison from the spikes is truly how Mathilde died, then no one but whoever forced us here is to blame,¡± Budi said, nose scrunched up as if he had smelled something foul. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know about that,¡± Faith said, voice bright and airy. Devorah turned to get a good look at him. Faith was a small, neatly dressed man with dark brown hair and light blue eyes. His elbow was up on the table, and he perched his pointy chin on the back of his hand. With the shade of his wide brimmed hat casting a shadow on mischievous eyes and the upturn of his nose, Faith looked almost fae. ¡°What do you mean by that?¡± Budi challenged. ¡°Even if Jacob didn¡¯t mean to kill Mathilde, if the trap really was what killed her. Well, we don¡¯t have much of a choice, do we? We would have to designate him as the one responsible.¡± Lupe¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°When Loowa had her accident, we designated her as both victim and murderer.¡± ¡°Ah, but Loowa was the one who single handedly accidentally triggered that trap,¡± Faith said with a smirk. ¡°No one pushed her. No one was even near her! Jacob pushed Mathilde, and in this scenario, it led to her death. We can¡¯t set this precedent. What¡¯s next? Lupe stabs Tiberius and it was the sword that killed him, not Lupe?¡± ¡°I¡¯d argue it was both,¡± Jacob said, jumping in. ¡°In that situation, the blame would mostly be on Tiberius. But if there weren¡¯t swords just hanging around, then he never would have been able to stab, right?¡± Lupe slammed her fist on the table. ¡°We can philosophize later. Tiberius isn¡¯t killing anyone. We need to focus on the actual poison that killed our actual friend!¡± Tiberius nodded. ¡°Besides, there are no swords here. Lupe and I have checked.¡± ¡°And if you really want to kill someone here, you can get creative,¡± Budi pointed out. Lupe looked up to the sky as if asking for help. Devorah could relate. But at the same time, she wished they would backtrack and talk more about Loowa. Who was that? What caused her death? The implication was that she accidentally triggered a trap, killing herself, but in Devorah¡¯s experience the Champions¡¯ League¡¯s investigation games were rarely so simple. Either way, there was no mention of any consequences for choosing the wrong person. So whoever was in charge had likely decided that Loowa had indeed killed herself. But Devorah supposed that didn¡¯t matter at the moment. What did matter was this- Sushruta stood up, pushing his chair back. He was a man of average height, with deep brown skin. Most of his lower face was obscured by a well-trimmed beard, but when he spoke, his voice was unobscured. ¡°I would like to trigger the trap purposefully, to better discern whether or not it is likely that the spikes were poisoned. I do not believe this will take long. To assist, I would like to ask for help from Kefilwe and Tiberius.¡± ¡°Good idea,¡± Lupe said. ¡°We¡¯ll pause here until you come back.¡± Chapter Nineteen Sushruta was right- his examination of the trap did go rather quickly. Having an experienced engineer really was useful in this situation, Devorah thought. Sushruta had Kefilwe identify the trap, and brought Tiberius to schlep something to push into the trap. When they returned, Sushruta declared it was unlikely that the trap had any method of poisoning. Jacob heaved a huge sigh of relief at that, and then another at the return of his closest allies and Brad. As predicted, Jacob was flanked by Georgie and Gabriel, while Brad made his way over to Kefilwe. Bell greeted Devorah with a smile, albeit one that was a bit smaller than usual. ¡°What did I miss?¡± She asked. Devorah pointed towards John, and Bell let out a happy shriek and waved with both hands. John nodded back. Devorah wondered what John thought about how it was going. That would be something to ask him about later. ¡°Still not very talkative?¡± Bell whispered to Devorah. She nodded back in a clear imitation of John, and Bell broke into a sweet laugh. ¡°We¡¯ll need to figure out a way to ambush him later! Maybe follow Gabe or Jacob into the bathroom and write Sushruta¡¯s name in the steam? Ooo, or I can throw something at Sushruta, and pretend that Gabriel did it?¡± ¡°We can workshop it later,¡± Devorah said. She wanted to pay attention to the investigation, which would likely start back up again soon. And so it did with a bang. Lupe said, ¡°if the spikes weren¡¯t poisoned, then it seems most likely that Mathilde ingested whatever killed her. Unless you found any other suspicious marks on her body, Nour?¡± Nour shook their head. ¡°Nothing else, Miss Lupe. Though¡­¡± They trailed off. ¡°What?¡± Tiberius demanded. ¡°The only time Mathilde could have eaten anything that was poisoned would have been when we broke our fast with Gabriel, Georgie, and Jacob.¡± Nour paused. ¡°Or¡­ I do not even want to suggest it, but at one point in the night I left Kefilwe and Mathilde to check on Faith and his concussion. And even before that, Kefilwe disappeared for an hour before coming back.¡± ¡°We didn¡¯t do anything!¡± Jacob yelped. But it didn¡¯t matter much. Suspicion wasn¡¯t shifting towards the trio Devorah had become so familiar with. No, it was rearing its ugly head in Kefilwe¡¯s direction. Kefilwe, whose warm black skin had taken on a gray hue. Kefilwe, who was looking at Nour with eyes wide from the sting of betrayal. ¡°Nour?¡± She whispered. Nour turned away. ¡°Nour?¡± She said again, desperate. ¡°Nour, what are you saying?¡± Faith leaped on this opening like a starving dog. ¡°I can corroborate Nour visiting me in the night. But I wonder, where did you go for that hour, Kefilwe? Can anyone here speak for her?¡± ¡°Nour, why are you doing this?¡± Kefilwe said, avoiding the question. No one else spoke up. Kefilwe was definitely in trouble, but there were still a few things that wouldn¡¯t add up. The most pressing to Devorah was this- even if people reappeared and disappeared, how did Mathilde¡¯s corpse end up in the kitchen? The kitchen was locked off at night. Did that mean someone murdered Mathilde before the kitchen closed? But surely someone would have noticed her absence- chiefly either Nour or Kefilwe. But if it was Nour and Kefilwe who were the primary suspects¡­ ¡°Now would be the ideal time to state where we all were last night,¡± Budi said. ¡°I would have rather waited until we all were here, but I doubt the murderer was one of those three.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°It¡¯s always possible, though,¡± Jacob pointed out. ¡°Right?¡± He looked at Georgie and Gabriel, who respectively shrugged and nervously picked at a thread coming off his worn shirt. They clearly weren¡¯t going to be much help. ¡°We can just hear their alibis once they arrive,¡± Lupe said. Faith smirked. ¡°Yes, we were together last night and certainly did nothing wrong!¡± He said, likely mimicking the missing members of the cast. ¡°Exactly, that¡¯s why we don¡¯t have to wait for them.¡± Budi leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. ¡°Either way, I spent my evening with Brad and then later met with Sushruta.¡± ¡°Yeah, bro.¡± Brad blew his nose noisily into his shirt. The bottom and middle part of it was now a disgusting mess of tears and snot. ¡°Besides, me and Budi do not know about poisons. He just likes tea and teacups, which is most radical of him.¡± ¡°What about me?¡± Sushruta asked with a calm sort of amusement on his face. ¡°Sushruta! My man, you are too awesome to kill anyone. You like, spent your whole life making other people¡¯s lives better! And all science isn¡¯t the same, bro. Being an engineer doesn¡¯t mean you know like, plants.¡± ¡°Not like Kefilwe or Nour would,¡± Jacob murmured. Devorah found herself quietly agreeing. ¡°Your support is very encouraging. Thank you, Brad.¡± Sushruta said. Brad gave him a watery smile in return. ¡°And Jacob, did I hear you say something?¡± ¡°Ah, no. Just that Georgie, Gabe and I were together all night.¡± ¡°As for me,¡± Xoco began, ¡°Tiberius was helping me with a project. We also saw Lupe pass by a few times on her patrols. Speaking of, Lupe, did you notice anything strange?¡± ¡°No.¡± Lupe crossed her arms. ¡°But once this investigation is over, I might need to rethink my patrols. Clearly they aren¡¯t working as intended.¡± The group spent the next few minutes confirming and hashing out the alibis. At one point, Bell turned to Devorah and said, ¡°I hate just watching! I wish I could do something, or at least talk to someone. I feel so awful about what happened to Mathilde.¡± ¡°You¡¯re talking to me,¡± Dev pointed out. Bell lightly smacked her on the shoulder. ¡°You know that isn¡¯t what I mean, silly!¡± ¡°You know,¡± Devorah wondered, ¡°maybe there actually is a way. Do you have both of your charges available? You could potentially use them to communicate. Knock once for yes and twice for no?¡± Bell sighed. ¡°But what would I even say? I don¡¯t know anything. I can¡¯t be helpful.¡± She slumped in on herself, her tall, proud figure flinching. ¡°I just wish I could be helpful, Dev.¡± ¡°I do too,¡± Devorah said. Wanting to escape this conversation, she tuned back into the investigation at hand. Once again, Lupe was taking charge. ¡°So, as of now the only person we don¡¯t have a set schedule for in the late evening is Kefilwe. When you pair that with the likely method of death, poison, it¡¯s not looking good for her.¡± All heads turned to Kefilwe. Though she had already experienced a burgeoning betrayal from Nour, it was clear that her situation was finally beginning to dawn on her. Panicked, Kefilwe looked around for a sympathetic face. Some, like Tiberius, faced her head on. Brad and Gabriel looked away. ¡°I don¡¯t understand?¡± Kefilwe started, new tears forming in her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m a conservationist. While I know about plants, I don¡¯t know about poisons.¡± ¡°You know which plants would be toxic to humans, wouldn¡¯t you?¡± Jacob said, not meeting Kefilwe¡¯s eyes. ¡°Well, some of them,¡± she admitted. ¡°But where would I even find these plants? Everything we have, it¡¯s dried and all edible! I found them, used them with Mathilde!¡± ¡°But you do not spend all your waking hours with the good nun, do you?¡± Faith interjected with that nasty smirk of his. ¡°After all, you still will not admit to your location in the early evening.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ I¡­¡± Kefilwe stuttered. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I can¡¯t.¡± Faith raised both his eyebrows. ¡°You certainly must know how suspicious that is?¡± ¡°I do! I know! But I promised I wouldn¡¯t say.¡± ¡°Promised who?¡± Kefilwe looked down and didn¡¯t answer. Eyes filled with pity, Xoco spoke up. ¡°While we know it was poison that killed Mathilde, I do think we should listen to Kefilwe and try to figure out where the poison could have come from. We have found many strange things in this house, and even more oddities gifted to us from the gods.¡± ¡°Miss Xoco is right,¡± Gabriel said, then blushed as everyone looked at him. He tilted his hat down to avoid meeting anyone¡¯s eyes. ¡°I¡¯m a fair hand with knowing what¡¯s edible and what isn¡¯t, and all the plants I¡¯ve seen have been good for eating. So if something bad was delivered, surely there would be something it came in?¡± ¡°Yeah!¡± Georgie piped in. ¡°And we figured out this house looks like something from my period. Jacob taught me that lots of things we used every day were actually poisonous. Maybe there was something in one of the rooms that we didn¡¯t know was poison?¡± ¡°But you would have,¡± Nour said. ¡°And now that I think about it, you did sit across from Mathilde at dinner.¡± ¡°Hey now,¡± Gabriel started, but Georgie reached over and patted him on the arm. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry about me. I can handle this,¡± she said. And Georgie stood up to her full height and looked down on Nour. ¡°Nour, accuse me of murder one more time and I¡¯ll punch your lights out. I appreciate you helping me with my consumption, but don¡¯t think that will stop me from kicking your feathery ass!¡± Chapter Twenty Georgie lunged across the table, clearly angling for Nour. With a cry, Nour leaned back, easily avoiding Georgie¡¯s fist. ¡°Fuck!¡± Georgie cursed, still scrambling on the table, looking for purchase to try and get at least one good punch in. Bell hummed in surprise. ¡°Her form isn¡¯t all that bad, actually!¡± Devorah saw John nod in agreement. She didn¡¯t personally know much about fighting, but a little afterlife entertainment never hurt anyone. Well, aside from maybe Georgie and Nour, of course. ¡°Georgie! No!¡± Jacob yelled, grabbing onto Georgie¡¯s dominant hand. She started pinwheeling that arm, and Jacob was barely able to keep hanging on. Lupe pinched her brow. Tiberius looked more amused than Devorah had ever seen him. ¡°Georgie, please see sense! We don¡¯t want anyone to get hurt,¡± Budi pleaded. Georgie bared her teeth. ¡°I¡¯m not just going to take that accusation lying down like a whore!¡± Budi gasped. ¡°Hey, hey,¡± Gabriel moved around to Georgie¡¯s other side and was making soft sounds, as if he wanted to soothe a rabid animal and not a small woman. ¡°Georgie, what the doctor said wasn¡¯t right, but I¡¯ll be darned if they haven¡¯t been good to you, treating you with their fancy elixirs.¡± Gabriel put his hand on Georgie¡¯s shoulder and pushed down. While Jacob was clearly still struggling to suppress Georgie, it seemed that she couldn¡¯t compete with the bare strength of a man used to nineteenth century farm work. Her shoulder sagged under the grip, then her whole person sagged as she was pressed back into the chair. Once Georgie was restrained, Nour settled back into their seat. ¡°I was not accusing you of anything, Georgie. I was merely proposing some possible ways Mathilde may have been hurt. I apologize for offending you so deeply.¡± ¡°Watch yourself,¡± Georgie said, eyes narrowed. ¡°Or what?¡± Nour challenged. There was another scrambling of limbs as Gabriel and Jacob pressed Georgie back into her chair. ¡°Maybe you could stop antagonizing Georgie?¡± Budi suggested. ¡°No, no.¡± Faith said. ¡°Keep going, it¡¯s just getting good.¡± Devorah laughed. Faith certainly was a character. Once order returned to the court, Lupe sighed and said, ¡°this is going nowhere. But I think finding out what the poison was could be a great starting place.¡± ¡°I do not believe there is any way to discern what the poison was,¡± Nour said. ¡°And in searching the kitchen, we found no evidence of any containers that may have held poison.¡± And from the doorway, a new voice said, ¡°I think I may have an answer to that.¡± Devorah turned to look, and there were three new people at the edge of the room. The first, the speaker, was a small woman with short hair and a side shave. She wore a loose tank top and cargo shorts, revealing that both her left arm and leg were clunky prosthetics. The other side of her body was decorated in geometric tattoos. The next person was the catgirl, the one from the ouija board incident. She looked exactly as she had in her profile, with one difference- her body was outlined in a bright red line. Just like an item left in the game as product placement. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. She was the product. Normally, this revelation would have sickened Devorah. But Devorah couldn¡¯t think about that. Devorah couldn¡¯t think about anything. Everything Devorah was melted and reformed again at the sight of the final woman in the doorway. Anna. It was Anna, her Anna. Anna, no longer in the costume she had worn for all of the time Devorah had known her. No longer was her hair down, nor was she in trousers. They had been exchanged for clothes that looked much more like what Anna would have worn in her real life, and had worn in the pictures Devorah had seen of her- a high necked blouse and a long skirt. Her beautiful dark blond hair was up in a neat bun, bangs framing her beloved face. She was just as Devorah remembered her. Button nose, oval face. Clever blue eyes. Anna looked comfortable. She looked confident. But when didn¡¯t she look confident? Devorah knew she had probably already solved the case. Surely, that was why she hadn¡¯t been present during most of the investigation. She knew everyone would be congregated here and that it would be the perfect time to look into something. It was a tactic Anna had pulled twice before, both to easy success. And for all that Devorah wanted to watch Anna tear this room apart, something more selfish in her called out for Anna to look her way. To see her. Almost without thinking, Devorah stepped forward from her place behind Jacob¡¯s chair. She stood before Anna. The woman next to her, the one with the prosthetics, was talking but Devorah heard nothing. Anna was a scant few feet away. But she was looking at her new companion, not Devorah. ¡°Anna?¡± Devorah breathed out, tone reverent. It was closer to a prayer than a name. And then by coincidence, she looked Devorah¡¯s way. Likely through her to whoever was behind her. Anna¡¯s blue eyes did not meet Devorah¡¯s. How could they? Devorah was just a ghost. She was just as dead as Mathilde laying in the other room, quiet in her funerary shroud. No matter what happened, she could never again be Anna¡¯s equal, if she ever had been in the first place. How readily Devorah had been replaced! How quickly Anna found a new¡­ Whatever they had been on the verge of being. For all that she did not have a real body, Devorah shook. The back of her throat and her eyes itched. ¡°Xiao Li,¡± Anna said, giving a name to the other woman. Jealousy burned in the pit of her chest. ¡°Show them what we found.¡± Xiao Li pulled out a series of broken shards glued together to form a bottle. That must have been one of the reasons they hadn¡¯t joined up with the others as quickly. But Devorah wondered- had it really taken so much time simply to put a glass bottle back together? How long would something like that really take? Had they been doing something else? Looking for other clues, pieces of evidence? Anna looked at Xiao Li and smiled. Or had they been enjoying the emptiness of the house, with everyone else secluded in one room? This wouldn¡¯t be a betrayal. For one, Devorah was dead. Death had parted them. Plus, Anna and Devorah had never been in an actual relationship. Devorah knew her own feelings, practically clung to them. It was the only truly strong emotion she had left. But that didn¡¯t mean Anna had loved her too. It didn¡¯t even mean Anna knew that she had been loved by Devorah. But Anna had always been able to see through Devorah. ¡°See me,¡± Devorah said. ¡°I need you to see me.¡± A tumultuous, horrible thing was building within her. Beginning in her gut it spread out, engulfing Devorah. It was so many emotions, every emotion at once. Anger, relief, fear, joy, sadness. Love. There was a flash, for just one second. Just one, small second, barely even there. In the back of her mind, Devorah registered that a charge had been used. She hadn¡¯t consciously activated it, and it hadn¡¯t sustained itself for its promised amount of time. For one second, Devorah had existed. The tingling in her fingers had true sensation, the words she spoke had reverberated through the space, no matter how quiet. Devorah had felt whole. Almost human. Yet Devorah barely even acknowledged this. Anna had been Anna- cool and confident. Clever and knowing more than anyone else in the room. But in that second, something had changed. Her already pale skin took on a pallor. Her eyes were wide and searching. And her pink lips had opened and she whispered one word. ¡°Devorah?¡± Devorah threw herself at Anna, only to immediately disperse and reform again, away from her. Anna visibly shivered and only looked more unnerved. She looked around the room, a strangely vulnerable look set on her face. For a moment, just a moment, it had been possible that she saw Devorah. But there was no real way for Devorah to confirm this. Devorah hadn¡¯t wanted to make her uncomfortable. Not really. So she took a step back. Devorah raised her hand and let it sit in the air, just a few inches away from Anna¡¯s cheek. And then she put her hand back down. Reaching deep inside herself, Devorah looked for the energy to summon her other charge. Just for a second. One more blessed second. If there was a chance to confirm what she thought Anna might have been thinking, that Devorah was there? That they shared a space again, and that death hadn¡¯t permanently parted them? But she couldn¡¯t. The only thing Devorah felt was exhaustion. Anna closed her eyes. Breathed in, out. And clearly came to some kind of conclusion. Her face had hardened, eyes going glassy and dull. Then she walked through Devorah and took a seat at the head of the table. Chapter Twenty One ¡°My apologies for the delay,¡± Anna said. ¡°I thought I saw- well, it doesn¡¯t matter, does it? Xiao Li, Cat, would you please set the bottle on the table? I wonder. Is it familiar to anyone? Can any person here identify it?¡± Devorah remained in her spot by the door, just in time for one last person to come through. Though more accurately, it was an apparition just like her. It was Eugenia. No longer in her turkey feathers and nightgown, barefoot with a noose still around her neck, Eugenia was bedecked in jewels and a fine gown. Though she was see-through just as Devorah was, the shimmering transparency made the red velvet fabric of the dress gleam. Bell came up to greet them, while John merely waved. He was focused on the case, which Devorah honestly couldn¡¯t have given less of a shit about at that moment. At first, Bell went to hug both Devorah and Eugenia, as she had at their first reunion, but something made her reassess. She only hugged Eugenia once more. Even before Bell released her, Devorah interrupted, saying, ¡°Eugenia. Have you been with Anna?¡± There was a pause, and Bell released Eugenia. ¡°I have,¡± she said, placid and cool. ¡°I have always been fond of Anna, and have learned some interesting things watching her.¡± Why had Eugenia gotten to be with Anna, while Devorah had been stuck with Jacob and his friends? Eugenia probably would have liked Georgie and Gabriel, while Devorah just wanted to be with Anna. That was all she ever wanted, even before the game. Even before Devorah knew such a thing could have been possible, with nearly two thousand years separating them. ¡°Like what?¡± Devorah asked, though if she was honest with herself, it came out more like a statement. Like what. It sounded exhausted. Eugenia¡¯s eyes softened. ¡°You¡¯ll have to find out for yourself. Now hush, Dev. I want to watch the proceedings.¡± ¡°You always did love drama,¡± Bell said, fond. Eugenia and Bell turned to the table where one by one, each cast member was taking their turn to squint at the fragments of the broken bottle. But Devorah just watched Anna. There she was, at the end of the table. Just as Devorah watched her, she watched the rest of her new friends come and go. She had the eyes of a hawk, her Anna. Fierce and focused. In the past, when they had caught on her, Devorah felt like the whole world narrowed down to the two of them. Now, there was something tense in her shoulders, tight in her jaw. Devorah wanted to hug her, ask what was wrong- Georgie yelled, ¡°hey! I know what this is!¡± ¡°What is it, Georgie?¡± Anna asked in a low tone. In that moment Devorah knew that Anna knew what the bottle was, and likely what kind of poison it held. She and Georgie were from very similar time periods, even if they were an ocean apart. But having Georgie identify it was crucial. Based on how the assembled others reacted to Anna and her friends, they weren¡¯t very trusted. Georgie, despite her earlier outburst, was. Maybe it was because of the outburst, actually. She was quick to anger and act, and wore her emotions on her sleeve. Georgie was easy to understand. Anna, meanwhile, likely hadn¡¯t let most of this cast into her heart. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. ¡°It¡¯s Godfrey¡¯s Cordial,¡± Georgie said. ¡°It¡¯s good for helping people sleep. One of the lords upstairs used to have a sip every night before going to bed. My friend Rose used to pick it up for him at the pharmacy in town.¡± ¡°So it¡¯s a medicine?¡± Jacob asked. ¡°It can¡¯t kill you?¡± Georgie shifted in her seat. ¡°I didn¡¯t say that, exactly. A little bit helps you sleep, yeah. But if you take too much¡­¡± ¡°And how much is too much?¡± Lupe asked. There was a pause. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Georgie said, a bit flustered. ¡°But the bottle¡¯s empty, yeah? I bet the whole bottle could knock a man dead.¡± ¡°Or a nun,¡± Faith quipped. Xoco smacked his arm. For the first time, the catgirl spoke up. ¡°One lick won¡¯t kill you, then?¡± Her voice was deceptively deep for such a small, thin woman. ¡°Don¡¯t think so,¡± Georgie said. The catgirl stuck her pointer finger down the neck of the bottle, then pulled it out and licked the tip of her finger. ¡°Sweet,¡± she said. ¡°Hey! No! Bad!¡± Xiao Li yelled. She pushed her own finger into the catgirl¡¯s mouth and pulled her lower jaw down to peer at her tongue. ¡°We don¡¯t lick possible poisons!¡± ¡°Clearly, she just did,¡± Faith said with a smirk. Xiao Li turned to Faith, and the look in her eyes promised pain in his future. ¡°You! Shut the fuck up before I make you! And you!¡± She pointed at the catgirl. ¡°Spit!¡± ¡°Xiao Li,¡± Anna said, ¡°she¡¯ll be fine. Right, Georgie?¡± Georgie looked at Anna, clearly grateful for the trust. ¡°She¡¯ll be fine.¡± Xiao Li wrenched her hand from the catgirl¡¯s mouth. The catgirl licked at her teeth. It struck Devorah as something animalistic. She had seen her own kitten do the exact same thing. And the way the catgirl just scrunched up her nose then sneezed? Adorable. Maybe she had more cat in her than just aesthetic ears and a tail. No wonder Anna had taken her into her little group. Someone with a cat¡¯s instincts could be valuable in lots of situations. But then why Xiao Li? What made Xiao Li special? ¡°So,¡± Anna started, hands folded on the table. ¡°We know it has a sweet taste. It probably wouldn¡¯t be hard to convince someone to drink a bottle of it, whether the bottle was disguised or not. And it is probably the murder weapon, considering that we found it broken. Does anyone have any objections?¡± Lupe crossed her own arms and met eyes with Anna from across the table. ¡°Where did you find it? It definitely wasn¡¯t in the kitchen.¡± ¡°I found it,¡± the catgirl said. ¡°It was in the lounge, under one of the sofas.¡± ¡°Since the lounge is right next to the kitchen and dining hall, it would be pretty easy to hide it without being noticed.¡± Sushruta pointed out. ¡°Was anyone in the lounge in the evening?¡± ¡°Couldn¡¯t they have also hid it at night? When we were all sleeping?¡± Budi asked. ¡°That seems like a risk that a murderer would not want to take,¡± Tiberius answered. ¡°Making as few suspicious moves as possible makes your chances of being caught much lower.¡± ¡°So we¡¯re in agreement that in the evening, the murderer probably killed Mathilde in the kitchen before going into the lounge to hide the evidence,¡± Jacob concluded. ¡°Unless¡­¡± Xiao Li said with a catlike smirk that strangely fit better on her face than her catlike companion¡¯s. ¡°The murder did actually happen at night, when the kitchen was closed.¡± ¡°What?¡± Brad asked, his head tilted. ¡°But like, how could that have happened?¡± ¡°Could someone have moved Mathilde in the early hours, before everyone woke up?¡± Xoco added. ¡°Wait a second,¡± Kefilwe said, then wiped at her eyes. ¡°I think I know what you¡¯re getting at. Georgie, Jacob, remember when we found that hidden room?¡± Georgie¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Are you saying they hid in the kitchen overnight?¡± ¡°Not exactly,¡± Anna said. ¡°But some others in the room will know what I¡¯m suggesting. And I¡¯m surprised it hasn¡¯t been brought up before this.¡± The room, which had already been filled with dramatic tension, suddenly had an atmosphere so thick it could be cut with a knife and spread on a tough piece of toast. Some people like Brad just looked confused. Lupe seemed concerned, likely that something had been kept from her. Budi started sweating. And then he broke. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, okay! I never wanted to sew any kind of discord. I wanted to keep it secret in case I was attacked and needed somewhere to hide. But Faith knows about it too!¡± Faith groaned and leaned back in his chair, face towards the ceiling. ¡°Well?¡± Lupe asked, impatient and with fire in her eyes. ¡°Fine, fine,¡± Faith said. ¡°There are many kinds of hidden places and rooms in this house. Priest holes, bunkers, and passageways from one room to another. Good Budi and I even found one going from the trophy room upstairs into the butler¡¯s office, which we all know becomes locked at night.¡± Faith corrected his posture and frowned at Budi. ¡°But now that the secret has been forced out into the open by this dastardly murderer, there is no longer any reason to keep quiet on them.¡± ¡°If we had known about them, we could have blocked them up to prevent anyone from using them in a murder!¡± Lupe yelled. Devorah disagreed. If someone wanted to kill in the Champions¡¯ League, a little thing like a blocked passage wouldn¡¯t stop them. The creators of the game would never allow that. Though most of the people in this room didn¡¯t know about the game, clearly, Lupe probably did. There was no way to stop this. So why was she trying so hard? With patrols, collecting weapons, even suggesting barricades. She couldn¡¯t keep everyone safe. So why put in so much effort? Chapter Twenty Two ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter now,¡± Xoco said with a wistful sigh. ¡°It¡¯s human to think of ways we could have done better, could have saved people, but it¡¯s too late to turn back time.¡± Lupe closed her eyes for a moment. Squeezed them. Then, with resolve, said, ¡°but what if there-¡± At the last word, her voice became a wheeze. Her face started to turn red as Lupe clearly tried to force out more words. ¡°Lupe!¡± Tiberius called, a frightened expression on his handsome face. He ran out and quickly came back with a cup of water, which he forced into Lupe¡¯s hand. She was coughing, gasping for air. ¡°Lupe, are you alright?¡± Nour asked, then made their way over to her. ¡°Does this happen often? Are you ill?¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t catch my cough, did you?¡± Georgie asked, pale faced. Eventually, Lupe caught her breath. As she chugged down the water, Devorah turned to look at Anna. Anna was watching Lupe dispassionately, but Devorah knew that Anna had to have known what would happen. These were just like Devorah¡¯s headaches. Her headaches¡­ That¡¯s right. Hadn¡¯t her headaches also been around when Devorah was in her own game? And hadn¡¯t she had her own coughing fits too? How had Devorah forgotten that? Surely that was important. It meant that Lupe had been about to say something that the makers of the Champions¡¯ League hadn¡¯t wanted her to say. And based on the conversation, it was definitely about time travel. But logically, the cast of this game must have realized time travel was possible, if they had already discarded the afterlife theory. How else would they have been able to come together like this? They likely weren¡¯t clones, and they definitely weren¡¯t AIs like Devorah had been forced to become. Anna would know the answer, know exactly what everyone else at the table knew. Anna showed Lupe no sympathy as she took control of the conversation again, leading it back to the discoveries she had made with her new investigative team. Back when that team had been Anna and Devorah against the world, watching Anna strike at weaknesses and take advantage of pauses had been invigorating. Now, it seemed cold and cruel. ¡°Let¡¯s get back on track? We were at a critical moment.¡± Anna said, not looking directly at Lupe despite her position at the opposite head of the table. ¡°Xoco was right. We need to move forward at all costs.¡± Xoco herself looked pleased at Anna¡¯s agreement, but Devorah felt sick. Though she didn¡¯t have real guts, not anymore, the space where they once writhed felt like it had been replaced with boulders, weighing her down. Devorah herself was a thing of the past. Anna had moved on, obviously. It would have been silly not to. Especially in another game in the Champions¡¯ League. You needed friends. Lovers. Companions. A fake ghost that could only touch things twice a day couldn¡¯t be that. ¡°Then I will ask again,¡± Sushruta began, ¡°where was this passage? I did not find any passages when I searched the kitchen.¡± If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°You do remember how we searched the kitchen,¡± Budi said, with a haunted and tired expression. Both of them turned to look at Brad, who seemed not to notice. He had an arm around Kefilwe¡¯s shoulders, and looked off into the distance with blank eyes. Kefilwe leaned into him, but she looked much more alert. Devorah honestly respected Kefilwe for how she was acting in the face of betrayal. She would have been shaking, emotions blown about like an umbrella in a sandstorm. And if Anna had been the one to betray her? Devorah didn¡¯t even know what she would have done. Devorah couldn¡¯t even see Anna¡¯s full face, turned as she was now to Xiao Li. But even her profile was lovely. She looked almost regal, perfect for a cameo portrait. The cut of her nose and chin, the way she was smirking ever so slightly¡­ Then Devorah remembered Xiao Li was there and unrolling a map on the table. She used her prosthetic arm to hold down the pieces of paper, while her fleshy arm spread it out with a series of flourishes. It looked like a map of the house, and Devorah did her best to get a good look of it. There were only two maps displayed, one for a floor labeled ¡°Servant¡¯s Quarters¡± and the other labeled ¡°Ground Floor.¡± There had to be more to the building, likely other floors and even an open ground space, but these were the two sections Xiao Li chose to present to the table. Devorah noticed Bell, Eugenia and John crowd around too, just as the living had. These maps cast light on the halls Devorah had been forced to wander for days, trailing after Jacob and his friends. As Jacob hadn¡¯t systematically entered every room and walked every hall, this new set was mostly a mystery to her. Even still, Devorah could point out a few locations. There was the study she had woken up and, and attached to it was the library. On that floor there was also the tea room-likely where Brad had been doing that strange form of self-mutilation- along with a smoking room and another room dedicated to porcelain. Finally, there was the grand hall, a ballroom, and another dining room. That made it even more clear that the cast was being made to live downstairs in the servant¡¯s quarters. There were a few more offices for higher ranking staff, but most of the floor was taken up by bedrooms. Alongside those were the lounge, the kitchen, dining room, and a laundry room. How convenient, in-house laundry. Between some of these rooms, lines were drawn. For example, looking at the maps, Devorah could tell that the smoking room was directly over the laundry room. Xiao Li had drawn a line indicating that there was some sort of way to move in between these two rooms. How? Devorah couldn¡¯t tell. The notes were written in what looked like Chinese. For all that the translation modules allowed them to understand each other speaking, the Champions¡¯ League had decided not to splurge on the tech that would translate writing as well. As the people around her discussed some of the various hidden passages, all Devorah could think about was three rooms in particular. Jacob¡¯s room and Anna¡¯s room, with only Xiao Li¡¯s bedroom in between. For days, Devorah had been so close to Anna and she hadn¡¯t even realized. How had she never even realized? Devorah was startled out of her thoughts when she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Bell, with a concerned look on her face. ¡°Dev are you¡­ okay?¡± She asked, hesitant. What a strange question to ask. ¡°I¡¯m trying to focus on the investigation,¡± Devorah said. ¡°Let¡¯s talk about it later.¡± She shook Bell¡¯s hand off her shoulder. For a moment, Bell left her hand raised in the air. Looking conflicted, she slowly lowered it back down to her side. There was no chance of pretending that she was alright. Devorah knew she was well past that point. But she didn¡¯t want to talk about her emotions with Bell, as sweet and well meaning as she was. It was annoying, actually. Bell had been in this murder game too. Bell had also died! So why did she seem so normal? Why did Bell still get to act like herself, as if it wasn¡¯t a struggle to exist at all? She turned back to the table, but out of the corner of her eye, Devorah could see Eugenia approach Bell. In a low voice, Eugenia said, ¡°let her be.¡± Devorah wasn¡¯t sure whether or not she was meant to hear it. And frankly? It was pissing her off. But Devorah bit her lip and ignored it. Like she said earlier, she just wanted to focus on the investigation. She would think more about her friends and Anna later. Finally, the people at the table were getting to the good stuff. Xiao Li uncapped a pen with her teeth and circled the kitchen, then drew a line¡­ to the hallway? In fact, if Devorah was judging space correctly, it was the same hall that had the painting trap that had caused all this trouble in the first place. Which was why the trap was probably there! In the Champions¡¯ League, there were a few instances of randomly placed traps, sure. But most of them, especially the most dangerous ones, were meant to make finding important things more exciting. After all, what¡¯s more exciting to watch? Languidly walking up to a treasure chest and opening it, easily looting it and walking out unscathed? Or daringly dodging spike pits and rolling boulders before scooping up the treasure and running, because your life did depend on it? Chapter Twenty Three At this revelation about the portrait spike trap, Tiberius turned to Sushruta with a thunderous expression. ¡°Sushruta. We just investigated this trap. How did you not discover something like this?¡± Sushruta scratched at his beard. He opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again with a sheepish expression. ¡°I was aware of this passage. I should have reported it.¡± Lupe groaned. ¡°This is why we put those rules in place! Sushruta!¡± ¡°I know,¡± he said, ¡°but I thought it was harmless! Just an entrance to the kitchen for a late night snack.¡± Xoco clicked her tongue and pointed at Sushruta accusatorily. ¡°So it was you! You¡¯re the one who¡¯s been sneaking into the kitchen and eating my tamales!¡± Sushruta gestured towards Brad. ¡°I¡¯ve just been supplying them! He¡¯s the one who eats them!¡± Brad put a hand over his heart. ¡°Xoco, babe, your tamales are the most excellent tamales I have ever eaten. But I am most apologetic for eating them without your permission.¡± Xoco softened and leaned over to pat Brad. It seemed almost everyone in this house had that same soft spot for him. ¡°Well, you are a growing boy! But no more! Ask first!¡± ¡°Listen,¡± Lupe interrupted, ¡°I¡¯m glad we solved this tamale mystery that did not need to be solved, but can we get back on topic? Sushruta? Did anyone else know about this entrance?¡± Before Sushruta could answer, Nour spoke up. ¡°Mathilde and I were with Sushruta when the passage was discovered. My apologies for hiding my own knowledge of this entryway.¡± They pressed a hand to their mask. ¡°I worried of drawing suspicion to myself, should I have pointed it out, but I know now I was wrong to do so. My dear Mathilde may have brought her own murderer here late at night! And I might have further complicated the case in an attempt to shrug off any possible suspicion. Please accept my greatest apologies.¡± Lupe looked towards Sushruta to confirm, who nodded in affirmation. ¡°Fine, I get it. Just, come on guys. How many times do I need to go over this? Secrets kept during investigations only help the murderer!¡± Kefilwe looked down at the table in shame. Faith took a moment to inspect his nails with a smirk. And the catgirl looked at Xiao Li, who cleverly made no moves that suggested she saw this. Devorah doubted it was naivety that made Lupe insist on this. So what was it? As other cast members stammered out apologies of their own, Devorah allowed herself one more glance at Anna. Just one, so that it wouldn¡¯t become a distraction. She gave away nothing. ¡°But how would Mathilde have brought her murderer here?¡± Xoco asked. ¡°Your typical hidden chute,¡± Xiao Li said. ¡°You gotta crawl, which¡­ To be honest, I¡¯m not sure how Mathilde would have made it.¡± ¡°So we¡¯re back to the pre-kitchen closing theory?¡± Jacob said. Georgie tapped on Jacob¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I don¡¯t think we have to be. It all depends on when she had the cordial. Maybe Mathilde had enough to numb the pain, but not enough to kill. And then had even more once she was in the kitchen. Right?¡± Georgie asked, looking towards Anna, who inclined her head in a graceful manner. ¡°If I may,¡± Nour broke in, ¡°I do believe it would be possible to drag a corpse through the passage as well, if someone was strong enough to do so.¡± The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°Nour,¡± Anna said, ¡°you investigated the corpse, yes? Just as you did for Loowa and Jack? Did you notice any signs of trauma on the body? Anything that would have been inflicted post-mortem?¡± Nour paused. ¡°Yes, Miss Anna. I do believe there was some bruising which may have occurred after death.¡± Tiberius turned to focus on Nour. ¡°You did not say that earlier. I propose that we have a secondary examination of the corpse.¡± Uh oh. Devorah couldn¡¯t see Nour¡¯s face, but it was clear everything was starting to close in on them. This wasn¡¯t exactly a difficult murder to solve. Especially with Anna pulling the strings. ¡°I do not believe that is necessary,¡± Nour said. ¡°And Mathilde would not have wanted several people, especially men, examining her body. Furthermore, I am the only person here with true medical training. What would you learn from the body that I could not?¡± ¡°What indeed,¡± said Anna in a low, droll voice. Devorah snickered. Georgie stood up and pushed back her chair. She coughed. ¡°I could take a look? I don¡¯t know much about medicine myself, but we were friends, Miss Mathilde and me. I also know something about bruising.¡± ¡°From your illness?¡± Jacob asked with sympathy in his eyes. Georgie nodded, but if Devorah recalled correctly, bruising wasn¡¯t a major symptom of tuberculosis. But whatever. Devorah couldn¡¯t really bring herself to care. Not with how Anna, too, was gracefully rising from her own chair, her skirt rustling like leaves of grass in a light spring breeze. ¡°Can I assist you, Georgie? I had great respect for Mathilde, and believe that I could be an impartial observer. If that would be fair to you, Nour?¡± There was a pause. ¡°Why would that be unfair?¡± Nour said. ¡°Exactly,¡± Anna said, a small smile gracing her thin, pink lips. She gestured for Georgie, and the two of them went back into the kitchen. Devorah followed as well, unthinking. After just a few feet, Devorah came into contact with that damn boundary. Anna and Georgie continued on past her. It struck Devorah that they almost looked like a lady and her maid, with the similarities in their period dress and the way Georgie took her cues from Anna. Was that similar to how Devorah and Anna once looked? Devorah turned away and returned to Bell and Eugenia, who were chatting in the silence of the room. The active members of the cast participating in the murder investigation weren¡¯t chatting, or furthering the discussion. The atmosphere was heavy, pensive. There were a few whispers here and there- between Lupe and Tiberius, Gabriel and Jacob. Brad and Kefilwe with their heads bowed together, both openly crying. But Bell and Eugenia carried on, almost cruelly ignorant to the awful air hanging above them. ¡°Devorah! Over here!¡± Bell waved her hand. Eugenia inclined her head. It seemed John had no interest in joining in, as he was eavesdropping on Kefilwe¡¯s hushed conversation with Brad. Then again, he rarely spoke at all with anyone during Devorah¡¯s time with him, aside from with the man who later became his murderer. Maybe John was struggling too, just as Devorah was. ¡°Dev!¡± Bell shouted again. Devorah sighed and rejoined her. Here was someone who didn¡¯t seem to be struggling much at all. And then there was Eugenia, who was enigmatic on a good day. Speaking of Eugenia. ¡°Eugenia,¡± Devorah started, ¡°I apologize for how I reacted when you came in. I was just a bit taken aback.¡± There, social niceties completed. Now Devorah could go back to watching the doorway, waiting to see what Anna would undoubtedly discover with Georgie¡¯s help. ¡°I knew you would be,¡± was Eugenia¡¯s answer. A bit annoyed, Devorah turned back to her with a huff. Was she really that predictable? Sure, everyone aside from hopefully Anna knew how gone Devorah was over her. But Devorah didn¡¯t want Eugenia and Bell to know every detail. How it wasn¡¯t completely driven by a need for connection and sex, like Sophitty and Amina were. Or even pure, nearly pious affection like there was between Brittia and Porshia, who had likely survived this whole mess and were probably living together in a small house with several cats and their families surrounding them. No, this love was something else. ¡°What do you mean by that?¡± Devorah asked. ¡°You knew I would be taken aback? Or that I wouldn¡¯t react well?¡± Eugenia looked at Bell as if to say see? And Devorah felt that annoyance grow into something hotter, something a little less controllable. She grit her teeth. ¡°Well screw that. And screw you for talking about me behind my back!¡± Bell blinked, and raised her hands to show no offense. Even John looked up from across the table from where he had been ignoring his fellow ghosts. ¡°Dev, we weren¡¯t talking about you behind your back! You¡¯ve been with us the whole time?¡± ¡°You know I¡¯ve been distracted,¡± she shot back. ¡°And you¡¯re our friend?¡± Bell finished. ¡°I¡¯m- We¡¯ve just been worried about you. That¡¯s all. This isn¡¯t like you.¡± ¡°What isn¡¯t like me?¡± Devorah said, the words spit like grit between her teeth. ¡°Being angry? Talking back? Trying to have some goddamn peace and quiet in my own shitty, fake afterlife?¡± Eugenia, in her beautiful dress and clean, bloodless clothes and glittering jewels took a step back. Pity was writ across her painted face. Devorah felt a new urge to claw it off. ¡°As your friends, Devorah, we are simply worried for you. We know you have experienced something horrible, and it¡¯s likely hurting you deeply. It¡¯s hard to manage these thoughts and feelings,¡± Eugenia said. ¡°Please tell us if there is any way we can help you.¡± Devorah swallowed down a mouthful of nothing. ¡°Just leave me the fuck alone,¡± she said, in a voice that sounded more hoarse than she would have expected. When Devorah crossed to the other side of the room, as far as she could go, Bell and Eugenia did not follow her. Chapter Twenty Four Sure, Devorah knew she would likely come to regret marking a rift between herself and her friends. They had to wade through the same shit she had, and were stuck in this sad excuse for an afterlife as well. But Bell and her constant yapping were getting on Devorah¡¯s nerves, and she didn¡¯t need Eugenia to play therapist for her. And fuck, Devorah was pretty sure Eugenia came from before therapy was even a thing! Besides, even if they were murdered too, they were probably never slated to die as Devorah had been. They never had headaches, or choking fits, or whatever. Not to rank suffering, but Devorah was pretty damn sure she had it worse! But at the same time! She didn¡¯t want any pity. Devorah was a grown-ass woman turned AI. She could handle herself, her role in this new game, and even whatever might happen after. Maybe if she focused really hard, maybe if she stretched every nanobot that made up her being, Devorah could let Anna know she was really there. And then maybe Anna would buy time with her? Or even better, purchase the rights to own Devorah¡¯s AI. Not that she wanted to be owned, of course. But she trusted Anna. Then again, where would Anna even get the money? She wasn¡¯t from this time. She didn¡¯t know how this world and its economy worked. Fuck. Now Devorah felt even worse. Oh, but Anna and Georgie were on their way back in. And the look on Anna¡¯s face- that did something to cheer Devorah up a bit. She knew that look. It was carefully blank, aside from one thing, one thing she doubted Anna knew about- the slight raise of her left eyebrow. That always signaled trouble, and rarely trouble for Anna herself. Georgie though, she looked a bit nervous. Her hands clenched, unclenched. She rubbed them on her apron like she had touched something dirty. ¡°Georgie?¡± Gabriel asked first, breaking the silence. ¡°Y¡¯alright? You look like you done seen something awful.¡± Georgie nervously looked at Anna, who nodded. Then she took her seat. Anna remained standing by the entrance to the room. ¡°I did see something awful,¡± Georgie coughed. Jacob and Gabriel rushed to pat her back and offer her a handkerchief, respectively, like the little worker bees they were. Georgie waved them off, still coughing. Faith leaned forward. ¡°Now this is getting interesting. Are you suggesting poor, dear Mathilde did not die from poison? But from another means?¡± ¡°I am quite sure she was murdered with poison,¡± Nour said, voice rising ever so slightly. ¡°To suggest otherwise-¡± ¡°That¡¯s not it,¡± Georgie interrupted, coughing subsided. She looked down at her hands, now folded around a handkerchief and resting on the table. ¡°It was¡­ It was like she had been soaked in acid. She was disgusting, under her robes,¡± Georgie spit out, more in fear than hatred. ¡°Oh? So she didn¡¯t drink the poison? Was it absorbed by her skin?¡± Jacob asked. ¡°I don¡¯t think so,¡± Georgie said slowly. ¡°I¡¯m no scholar or nothing, but it looked old, it did. No open bleeding aside from her shoulder.¡± ¡°Did you ever notice any old injuries?¡± Tiberius asked, looking in the direction of Kefilwe and Nour. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Kefilwe¡¯s brow furrowed, and she sniffed, then wiped her nose on her sleeve. ¡°I never saw Mathilde out of her habit, even at night. She was always careful to keep covered, for her modesty and humility. It was part of being a nun, she said.¡± ¡°Not even when sleeping? Or when coming out of the washroom?¡± Lupe¡¯s eyes narrowed. Privately, Devorah agreed. Had no one really thought that was strange? That Mathilde was so careful to never show her skin at all? ¡°Mathilde was entitled to her vows of chastity and modesty,¡± Nour scolded the room at large. Devorah let her gaze rest on Nour, still fully covered, including their face. Even Mathilde had shown her face. Why had Nour insisted on remaining hidden as well? Was it because they were actually forced to, with it being their set costume? Or were they trying to keep something secret as well, the way Mathilde had seemed to be doing? ¡°In respecting Mathilde, I never put pressure on her to bare herself. Nor did Kefilwe,¡± they said, inclining their beak towards Kefilwe. Kefilwe nodded back just once. ¡°Mathilde is- was important to us,¡± Kefilwe said. ¡°So her vows were important to us too, even if I don¡¯t completely understand.¡± ¡°That¡¯s great, and I love how you respected her, but that¡¯s not what I was asking,¡± Lupe said, frustration evident and growing. ¡°Either way, unless someone is hiding something again, I¡¯ll say no one has seen any weird scars she had. And are we sure she was a nun? And this wasn¡¯t just a costume, like what happened with Jack?¡± ¡°No way, babe,¡± Brad shot in. Not exactly who Devorah thought would have come to Mathilde¡¯s defense, but at the same time, Brad¡¯s surety was convincing. For someone with one concussed brain cell, he was very confident. Or maybe that was where the confidence came from. ¡°Mathilde knew her stuff, got all the psalms and junk right. My mom made me go to Sunday school as a kid, and the nuns there were so Mathilde.¡± Xoco reached over to pat Brad on his head. ¡°Circumstances are also different in each of our times,¡± she reminded Lupe gently. ¡°Mathilde was not born a priestess. She could have been injured at any point of her life, or even in her work as a devotee. Though Faith tells me your way of practice is very different from my own.¡± ¡°We¡¯re more subtle in our blood offerings, my sweet,¡± Faith said. ¡°It¡¯s all in the interest in saving the soul, of course. The mortal body is nothing compared to the soul it carries.¡± ¡°But! A soul can¡¯t happen without a body, right? If there even is a soul!¡± Xiao Li piped in. ¡°And how do we quantify the soul? Because let me tell you, I come from a good thousand years later than you, and we still can¡¯t find any proof of that thing you call a soul.¡± ¡°That is why it is called faith, good friend,¡± Faith said. ¡°To believe in the word of the lord even without a visible soul.¡± ¡°While I do agree that belief is important, along with having a moral code, I do not believe in this soul, as Faith calls it.¡± Budi said. ¡°A soul seems too permanent. Does it not make more sense that what we are is ever changing, just as we, humans, change?¡± ¡°Yes, and our actions in this life impact how we change.¡± Sushruta said. ¡°Though we do have an eternal self, even if we cannot perceive it.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Tiberius said, ¡°if there was no self that exists beyond death, then how would there be an afterlife?¡± Ugh, please, no talk of afterlives. Devorah didn¡¯t want to have to consider that, even if she didn¡¯t believe in such things as heaven or hell. ¡°If I was synthesized in a lab, would I have a soul?¡± The catgirl said. No one seemed quite sure how to respond to that, based on the silence that had blanketed the room. But it made Devorah wonder- if there was a soul, had it followed her into this new form? Or was it in some nondescript afterlife? Or was she an entirely new being, with or without a new soul? ¡°Well,¡± Georgie said with a cough, ¡°I for one have faith in us that we¡¯ll be able to solve this murder. Eh? Eh?¡± Kefilwe gave a hesitant, sniffly little laugh. ¡°Thank you, Georgie, for bringing us back to the reason why we¡¯re here today.¡± Lupe said. ¡°I know we all cope in our own ways, but please everyone, our friend was murdered. Is now really the time for philosophy?¡± Finally, Sushruta stood up. ¡°I do not want to infringe on Mathilde¡¯s modesty, but I think that I will look at her injuries, if Nour will not. I studied medicine before choosing to focus on engineering.¡± ¡°Do you object, Nour?¡± Anna said, finally speaking again. ¡°How can I?¡± Nour asked. And they were right, backed into a corner as they were. ¡°I trust Sushruta to be fair, and to be respectful to Mathilde,¡± they ground out. Sushruta left, and once again there was silence. Though this time, Nour and Kefilwe were whispering at each other. Devorah shot a cursory glance over towards her so-called friends. As expected, Bell met her gaze, but Eugenia put her hand on Bell¡¯s chin and forcibly turned her head away. Kinky. Not wanting to be grateful to Eugenia for the smidgeon of privacy, for all that she could have any, Devorah let her fake feet drag her to the only place they would ever go. Devorah stood a foot from Anna¡¯s right side. But of course Anna didn¡¯t know, even if Devorah felt more right there than she had felt anywhere else in this house. Since she had been forced from her grave. Devorah couldn¡¯t be too mad though. How could she stand to rest in her grave as the one she loved still lived? Displaced from her time, with nothing to her name¡­ Sushruta returned quickly enough. He didn¡¯t even bother returning to the table before he announced his verdict. ¡°Mathilde did not have wounds caused by any external force. Her body was warped by illness- leprosy.¡± Chapter Twenty Five The room erupted in a cacophony of voices, of disgusted faces and shocked reactions. In all honesty, Devorah hadn¡¯t expected leprosy. It was highly contagious, and extremely stigmatized in the majority of Earth cultures. Furthermore, most of the cast members of this game came from time periods where people with leprosy were ostracized, and often forced into isolated colonies are killed. Knowing this, Devorah wasn¡¯t surprised Mathilde had tried to hide it. But in all honesty, her presence in close quarters had put the whole cast at risk. Devorah couldn¡¯t abide by anyone putting Anna at any kind of risk. ¡°Leprosy?¡± Georgie cried, and renewed wiping her hands on her apron with a deep fervor. ¡°Mathilde was a leper?¡± Faith exclaimed with a look of glee. ¡°Poor Mathilde,¡± Budi sighed. Tiberius slammed a fist on the table. ¡°No, none of this ¡®poor Mathilde.¡¯ She was stricken, and should not have been allowed among us. Mathilde was wrong to not disclose her illness and put the rest of us at risk.¡± Devorah noticed Georgie shift uncomfortably in her seat. Gabe rubbed her back. Devorah didn¡¯t blame her- she had tuberculosis. If they started a witch hunt for the sick, she would be next. ¡°Things are different now, Tiberius,¡± Jacob spoke up. He looked at Georgie, who shook her head, then turned back to a frowning Tiberius. ¡°We can treat diseases like leprosy with modern medication. And wearing masks, like Nour has, can help stop the spread of diseases.¡± Nour stroked their beak. ¡°What, Jacob?¡± Tiberius slammed his fist down again. ¡°Have you and your friends caught it? Are you trying to save yourselves, like the cowards you are?¡± Georgie shot up from her own seat, previous discomfort shed like molting snakeskin. Viper-like rage overtook her soft features, even angrier than she had looked when Nour literally accused her of murder. ¡°Shut your damn mouth, lemon boy! My boys are no lepers, and if you keep spreading this filth I¡¯ll knock your teeth out myself!¡± Lemon boy. Lemon boy! Devorah laughed, and instinctively turned to meet Anna¡¯s eyes. Anna just continued to stare ahead. It suddenly didn¡¯t seem funny any more. Tiberius rose to match Georgie, one of his hands at his side moving to his hip to clench for something that was not there. ¡°You dare speak to me like this, woman? In your uneducated, slavish tongue?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you talk to Georgie like that,¡± Gabriel said, voice uncharacteristically raised. Tiberius said, ¡°I can speak how I wish-¡± ¡°Tiberius, Georgie, please stop!¡± Budi said, then shrunk back as everyone turned to look at him. But with a shaky thumbs up from Brad, Budi nodded and continued. ¡°We need to focus on Mathilde. For example, did anyone know she had leprosy? Anyone?¡± The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. ¡°No,¡± Georgie coughed, then sat down in a huff. She was still glaring at Tiberius, who returned the look tenfold. ¡°I wish she had been able to trust us, but I get it.¡± Lupe looked exhausted next to Tiberius, but she said, ¡°I think it¡¯s been confirmed that no one knew.¡± ¡°Actually,¡± Faith said. Then paused. He waited, ensuring all attention was on him, before grinning like a fox that found its way into the henhouse at night. ¡°I think there is someone who knows. Sushruta, Georgie. Nour. Anyone- where was the leprosy on Mathilde¡¯s body?¡± ¡°Oh, hey, let me,¡± Xiao Li said, then drew a quick outline of a human body on the map. ¡°Uhhh here, Sushruta, you have a good memory. Go ahead and shade in where you saw the lesions.¡± She slid the map and a pen towards Sushruta. Ever so carefully, he shaded along Mathilde¡¯s limbs, then paused. He looked up at Nour and Kefilwe, then began to fill the rest of her torso with color. ¡°Please know I did not take any liberties with her person, but based on the pattern of the lesions, it is likely that there are patches all over her body.¡± ¡°Sushruta, what exactly is leprosy?¡± Xoco asked. ¡°I understand it¡¯s some kind of illness, and causes¡­ Injury? But I don¡¯t believe we have it in my part of the world.¡± Sushruta looked up from his reverent shading. ¡°Nour would do a better job explaining than I would. Or perhaps Lupe, as she is from the most distant of our futures. I just knew enough to identify the beast.¡± ¡°In all honesty, I don¡¯t know much about leprosy, or any kind of medicine. My guess is it¡¯s long been eradicated from my time,¡± Lupe said. ¡°Besides, just because we have more treatments and cures and such, it doesn¡¯t mean I know what they do exactly, or how they¡¯re made. I can pilot a ship, but I don¡¯t know how the engine works. It¡¯s like, Xiao Li can code but probably can¡¯t do computers. Or more accurately, like how Budi can assess and use porcelain but doesn¡¯t make it himself.¡± ¡°If I was from a time with such miracle cures, I would want to know how they worked,¡± Xoco said. ¡°I lost many siblings to illness when I was just a child.¡± A flash of annoyance showed on Lupe¡¯s face before she quickly tampered it down.¡°Then after this, we¡¯ll see about getting you into medical school,¡± Lupe said. ¡°So, Nour. If you please. Leprosy?¡± ¡°It is a progressive disease of the skin, turning good human skin to that of the elephant. This transformation causes lack of sensation, as well as complications in the victim¡¯s ability to take in air,¡± Nour said. ¡°Though it is agreed that it is caused by disruption of the balance of the humors, scholars are in disagreement as to whether or not one can become afflicted as a result of the corruption of their personage and soul.¡± They paused. ¡°I am not inclined to believe that those who suffer, suffer because of any innate immortality or because of any cruelty they exacted on others. We must treat those who are ill with kindness, but we must also be careful. Leprosy spreads very quickly and very easily.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not so bad,¡± Brad said. ¡°Like, it¡¯s most unfortunate that it makes your skin look weird, but that doesn¡¯t mean we should ignore people that are hurting. Mathilde was such a babe, I know her soul wasn¡¯t demonic enough to like, throw her out like trash. And I know Mathilde totally would have taken care of any of us.¡± ¡°You¡¯re right, Brad,¡± Kefilwe sniffed. Speaking up for the first time in a while, she shakily smiled at Brad. ¡°Even if Mathilde was sick, we wouldn¡¯t have isolated her. And hey! We could have helped her, Nour. Right?¡± ¡°As a physician, I would have done my best to help Mathilde. Of course I would have,¡± they said. Georgie coughed. ¡°That¡¯s noble and all, yeah, but you said breathing issues. I don¡¯t need more breathing issues, thanks.¡± Then she looked around with wide eyes. ¡°But! Er, yeah, we shouldn¡¯t lock her away. For being sick.¡± Nice save, Georgie. Ignoring that tuberculosis was much more dangerous than leprosy, too. But Devorah imagined the people behind the Champions¡¯ League wouldn¡¯t agree. Tuberculosis was dramatic, romantic. Leprosy would make you less pretty for the cameras. A beautiful death was better than an ugly life. At least to the people ruining all these lives. Devorah would have rather had fifty skin conditions over being a ghost. Was being incorporeal a skin condition? Much to think about at a later date. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Lupe said, hesitant. ¡°Xoco, for example, said there wasn¡¯t any leprosy where she was from, so she¡¯d have no defenses against it. I doubt they inoculated us in here.¡± Gabriel bowed his head. ¡°And my ancestor¡¯s on my mom¡¯s side, they were folks like Xoco¡¯s. They didn¡¯t do so well when the Europeans brought over the pox.¡± Xoco blinked. ¡°Gabriel, what do you mean by that?¡± ¡°Uhhhh,¡± he stuttered out. Thankfully for Gabriel, who was getting redder and more flustered with each second passing, Xiao Li intervened. ¡°This is great and all, 10/10 on ethics and conversation, but I want to loop back to something. Faith.¡± Said man, who was resting his chin on the back of his hand, lazily looked in Xiao Li¡¯s direction with only his eyes. ¡°You said there was someone else who knew Mathilde had leprosy. Are you talking about yourself? Or someone else?¡± Faith made a show of considering this, of hmmming and looking around the room, before blinking innocently. ¡°Oh, I would never hide something so serious. Think logically. Mathilde was speared through the shoulder. According to Sushruta, the leprosy affects Mathilde¡¯s arm and torso, obviously covering her shoulder as well. So, who would have seen her shoulder?¡± Chapter Twenty Six ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Xiao Li exclaimed. ¡°After Mathilde was injured by the trap, Nour would have seen the leprosy lesions!¡± All eyes in the room turned to Nour, who did not move. They said nothing, not to affirm or refute. They knew they were cornered. In all honesty, Devorah couldn¡¯t muster up any sympathy for them. As someone who had been murdered herself, the well of sympathy was all dried up. Being murdered was pretty traumatizing, actually! But Devorah was doing fine. She was doing so fine, everything was great, actually. ¡°Not only did Nour notice and recognize those lesions, they were very displeased at that recognition,¡± Faith said. ¡°And how would you know that?¡± Nour asked, finally speaking up. ¡°Sweet Nour, I was there, remember?¡± He responded. Jacob blinked, and his eyes widened. ¡°That¡¯s right! I remember, you were resting up after the wall-throwing incidents, right? You were in the infirmary when we brought in Mathilde. But I thought you were asleep?¡± ¡°I was, but I was not so terribly injured that I wouldn¡¯t wake up from all the commotion!¡± Faith said. ¡°Why, all that yelling¡­ It would be enough to raise the dead! Present topic of conversation excluded, of course.¡± ¡°Master Faith,¡± Nour began, ¡°did I not request that you tell me when you had awakened? And to eavesdrop on another person¡¯s private medical information? For shame! And you call yourself a Christian- have you no decency?¡± There was a pause, and Nour inclined their giant beak. ¡°Though, in eavesdropping, you acknowledge that you were aware that Mathilde was indeed a leper. You were in the infirmary, where Mathilde, Kefilwe and I stored many concoctions and elixirs. Furthermore, we are familiar with your line of work, dedicating your life, as it was, to the persecution of women.¡± Devorah could hear the sneer in Nour¡¯s measured tone. ¡°Condemning those who live on the outskirts of society to further ostracization, torture, and death.¡± For just one moment, Faith¡¯s easy countenance and sly face hardened into something unreadable. Blank. And then he relaxed again, just as limber in his chair as before. ¡°Oh, good show, Nour!¡± Slowly, he clapped. ¡°Why, if I didn¡¯t know the truth, you may have even convinced me! But we both know that I didn¡¯t murder dear, sweet Mathilde.¡± Faith spread out his hands. ¡°After all, what do I care if we all become lepers? We¡¯re already in hell, why not become hideous too? But you? Oh, you. Great physician, genius alchemist, you.¡± Faith turned to the crowd around the table. For all that he seemed to be unreliable, Devorah could admit he was a great orator. Charismatic, charming. Even Anna was considering him with her eyes like a knife. But the rest, all of them were enraptured. Georgie was even leaning forward, literally hanging off his every word. ¡°You, Nour,¡± Faith continued, ¡°care about public health. And more than that, you and your Kefilwe had been sharing a bed with this plague-ridden nun! Who wouldn¡¯t be mad to learn of this betrayal? No one would be surprised if you decided to exact revenge, if only for the redemption of your souls. Why, in killing Mathilde, you¡¯d even be saving her. Her soul must be filthy, from all those lies.¡± There was no response from Nour, but Devorah was surprised as Kefilwe took to their defense. ¡°There¡¯s nothing filthy about Mathilde or her soul, even if she was sick! Even if she was hiding it. And even though she had lesions and cuts and blood, Mathilde was still beautiful.¡± Kefilwe sniffled. ¡°And even if she wasn¡¯t beautiful! Even if she was born ugly, or you saw her body as ugly, Mathilde still deserved happiness! She deserved to live. And Nour.¡± For the first time in a while, she turned to her plague doctor friend. ¡°I know you¡¯re just scared. I know you didn¡¯t kill Mathilde. So, Nour, please tell us what you know. So that we can help Mathilde, and so that we can stay together.¡± The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Kefilwe¡¯s voice stuttered on the last line. Strangely, unexpectedly, Devorah felt it deep in her chest, like a vice cracking through the ice and frost to settle in and clamp around her missing heart. The walls had been closing in around Nour for quite some time, and Devorah was sure Kefilwe had to know that. Yet, even after Nour accused her of murder, Kefilwe still defended them. She still wanted them to find a way forward. Devorah chanced a look at Anna. Her face gave away nothing. Devorah wondered, did she pity Kefilwe too? Did she mourn the death of another relationship? Once again, the vice squeezed, reminding Devorah of her new status as an outsider to all that went through Anna¡¯s head. Back in their game, Devorah never had to grapple with learning one of her friends had been a murderer. But Anna had. Anna had been friendly with Amina. Everything had happened so fast, then, there hadn¡¯t even been an investigation. So Devorah wondered- would Anna have fought to protect her? Would she have believed in Amina until the end? No, not Anna. Not with those cool eyes. Devorah didn¡¯t think Anna would see it as a betrayal, committing a murder. She would see it more as a clash of wills and wit. And Anna would always come out on top of those. In fact, it struck Devorah that Anna had been fairly quiet in this investigation, allowing others to take the lead. It seemed out of character for her. Anna had always led the investigations in their game. Admittedly, it had put a target on her back. Not just as a possible murder victim, but in conversation as well. Maybe she was trying to do things differently? Seem more amicable and open? It was working somewhat, based on Xiao Li and the catgirl. The catgirl, who was the only person that had spoken less than Anna had during the investigation. But it was that group that had led the investigation in the right direction, finding the cordial and mapping out the secret entrance. Plus, Anna had encouraged the second look at the corpse. Devorah found herself snickering. Even as Anna tried to take a step back, it seemed that she couldn¡¯t help herself. Besides, Lupe and her friend Tiberius were doing a good enough job with being the unspoken investigation leaders. And more than that, they definitely took on a leadership role outside of the investigation. Collecting possible weapons, involving themselves in all instances of injury¡­ There was no way it would end well for either of them, but if Anna was content letting them take her spotlight, then Devorah would be okay with it too. ¡°It¡¯s much too late for finding a way forward together,¡± Tiberius said while looking Nour right in their face. Just as Devorah thought, Lupe and Tiberius were even signaling the end of the investigation. ¡°I believe we know who the murderer is.¡± ¡°I agree,¡± Budi said. ¡°Allow me to put it together,¡± Sushruta said. ¡°In the afternoon, Kefilwe and Mathilde were examining a trap and possible secret passage. Jacob, leaving a conversation, bumped into Mathilde, knocking her into the trap and triggering it. A spike went through her shoulder, and a group brought her to the infirmary, where Nour was along with Faith, who was sleeping as a result of his head injury received during¡­ Wall incidents.¡± Brad gave a thumbs up. ¡°To treat the injury, Nour had Mathilde disrobe, which revealed the leprosy lesions. They had a small argument about it, which Faith overheard and did nothing about.¡± Faith shrugged. Jacob raised a finger. ¡°Then, we had dinner with Kefilwe, Mathilde and Nour. For some reason, Mathilde seemed to be doing okay. Maybe she already had the first dose of cordial?¡± Kefilwe shifted in her seat. ¡°Is it possible? Nour? You didn¡¯t give Mathilde anything, right?¡± Nour did not answer. ¡°Later that night,¡± Sushruta continued, ¡°Nour somehow lured Mathilde down the secret passage and into the kitchen. Due to the pain numbing elements of the cordial, as well as the nerve damage from the leprosy, Mathilde was able to enter the passage on her own. They went into the kitchen, where Mathilde either succumbed to the overdose or Nour gave Mathilde more cordial to drink, resulting in overdose.¡± ¡°It all makes sense,¡± Lupe sighed. ¡°I do have one question, though,¡± Xoco said. ¡°Kefilwe shared a room with Nour and Mathilde, yes? So how did she miss them leaving in the middle of the night?¡± ¡°Exactly! Nour couldn¡¯t have done it without waking me!¡± Kefilwe said with a smile. But it was wobbly and lopsided, clearly fake. ¡°But¡­ I also missed Mathilde leaving at some point. I¡­ I don¡¯t know how I missed that?¡± ¡°Then maybe Kefilwe was an accomplice?¡± Jacob suggested. Kefilwe¡¯s eyes widened, but Anna surprised Devorah by speaking up. ¡°I doubt it. There is no reward for an accomplice. Unless Kefilwe had something to gain, that we don¡¯t know about?¡± Chapter Twenty Seven ¡°Oh ho, but you¡¯re forgetting something!¡± Xiao Li butted in, looking up at Anna. ¡°The whole cordial was used, but we can¡¯t be sure Mathilde had all of it. My guess is this! Nour was at dinner with you all, right? So who¡¯s to say Nour didn¡¯t slip some sleepy juice into Kefilwe¡¯s drink?¡± ¡°If she was under a painkiller¡¯s influence, then it would explain why she slept so heavily as to miss her two bedmates leaving,¡± Lupe agreed. ¡°Nour?¡± Kefilwe whispered. Once again, her eyes welled up with tears. ¡°I was really tired last night. You didn¡¯t hurt me, right? You wouldn¡¯t do that to me?¡± ¡°I would never hurt you, Kefilwe,¡± Nour said immediately, voice more impassioned than they had been for most of the investigation. ¡°If nothing else, please know that. Know that I could never hurt you. I would do anything to-¡± ¡°But they do not deny it,¡± Faith cut in. ¡°Hold your tongue!¡± Nour snarled at Faith. Budi held up his hands. ¡°Let¡¯s all calm down. There¡¯s no need to fight now, I think we have almost everything solved. Then we can go rest, have a nice drink, and everything will be better tomorrow.¡± ¡°If Nour and Mathilde are gone, everything won¡¯t be better tomorrow!¡± Kefilwe wailed. Conversation was cut off by the soft clicking sound of someone in heels walking towards the room. Ah, and looking at the new and sudden tenseness in Anna¡¯s shoulders, Devorah knew that it meant the host was coming. The investigation had come to its conclusion, and it was time for the jurors to vote. In all honesty, Devorah was a bit surprised that the host was coming so soon. Kefilwe crying, Nour finally trying to find any defense, this made for good entertainment. Why cut it short? Either way, as expected, the host of this macabre dinner party entered through the door Anna and Devorah were standing by. Once again, the host was dressed as extravagantly as a doll meant for display. Instead of the plain red dress Devorah had last seen her in, this time the bell of the skirt was decorated. In black shadows, the silhouette of a church rose up to her hip, mounted bell at the top of the spire frozen in motion. The bright white outline of angels resting in the windows stood in stark contrast to the dark background. And at the bottom of the skirt, just below her knees, was a series of ruffles shaped not unlike tombstones. Despite herself, Devorah was impressed by the design of the skirt. Clearly it was inspired by Mathilde and her death. The real question was- was the skirt a rush job? Or did the host have a full series of skirts pre-made, each one tailored to the possibility of another of the cast being murdered? And Mathilde naturally lent herself to elegance, of course. The stained glass, the modesty of her order, the solemnity of old Christian cemeteries¡­ It was perfect for a haunted doll. Though she was much smaller than most of the people in the room, the doll commanded presence. The conversation was paused, if only for a few moments, before Kefilwe stood up. ¡°Please,¡± she begged, voice ragged and face an awful gray, ¡°not yet. Please, not yet. Just give us a little more time, I promise! There has to have been some misunderstanding, right? Maybe, maybe this was all an accident, like Loowa. No one has to get hurt again. Please! Please¡­¡± Kefilwe¡¯s voice trailed off into sobs, and Devorah found that Brad had begun to cry with her. Some of the others, like Gabriel and Xoco, had also begun to shift in their seats, clearly uncomfortable. ¡°You know the rules, Kefilwe,¡± Tiberius said gruffly. ¡°Murder cannot go unpunished.¡± ¡°It might not have even been Nour!¡± Kefilwe pleaded. ¡°It could have been someone else, anyone else! Please¡­¡± ¡°I wish it wasn¡¯t like this, too, please trust that,¡± Lupe said. ¡°But we have no control here- or what little control we have now is over what we do next.¡± She turned to look at Nour, who had remained silent. ¡°Nour, do you have anything to say? Do you want to plead your case, unearth anything else?¡± If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°There is no reason to,¡± Nour said. ¡°It is a foregone conclusion. I know my fate. I hold no resentment for you and yours.¡± The host clapped her hands together. ¡°Excellent! So we¡¯ll call an end to the investigation here. As per tradition, we will go one by one. Everyone will say the name of whoever they would like to accuse of the murder. At the conclusion of this period, the murderer will be punished. Now! Let¡¯s start!¡± The room was mostly silent, aside from the soft sounds of crying. Being the first accuser was always difficult, even when the conclusion was obvious, like this one was. Nour had practically already confessed! But being first¡­ It was like being the one to sign their death warrant. Devorah had never been the first to offer a name in any investigation she had taken part in. Finally, Lupe spoke up. ¡°I truly am sorry, but. Nour. Until this, you were a great comrade and excellent physician.¡± And to her credit, she did genuinely look as sorry as she claimed to be. ¡°Nour,¡± Tiberius said simply, following after Lupe. Sushruta sighed. ¡°I wish it had not come to this. Nour.¡± Faith shrugged. ¡°I had a feeling something like this would happen. What good is a doctor who never spills a little blood? Nour, of course.¡± Budi was next. ¡°Nour.¡± ¡°Thank you for your sacrifice,¡± Xoco said with a bittersweet smile. ¡°Nour. We will not forget you.¡± ¡°Sorry, Nour,¡± Xiao Li said. ¡°We all play the game, but sometimes we lose.¡± ¡°Nour,¡± the catgirl nodded. Anna quickly followed up. ¡°I cast my vote for Nour.¡± ¡°Thank you for everything, doc,¡± Gabriel said, ¡°but I gotta trust everyone here. Nour.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Jacob seconded. ¡°You were really cool, but you uh. Shouldn¡¯t have murdered Mathilde. So Nour.¡± Georgie snorted out a small laugh, then let her face turn serious. ¡°Doctor Bird, you did everything you could. But Jacob¡¯s right. Maybe next time, don¡¯t murder someone, yeah? Nour.¡± Brad looked at Georgie, then Kefilwe, and finally at Nour. ¡°I hate this,¡± he said under his breath. ¡°But you shouldn¡¯t have hurt Mathilde. Nour.¡± And finally, it was just Kefilwe and Nour. Neither said anything. The host rolled her eyes, then finally, someone spoke up. It was Nour. ¡°There¡¯s no need for Kefilwe to vote. It was me. I cast in my own name to be punished as you see fit. I know I deserve it.¡± ¡°Nour,¡± Kefilwe sobbed. ¡°That¡¯ll count!¡± The host cheered. ¡°And congrats to you all! You found the murderer! Yay!¡± Devorah could confidently say that there was no jovial mood in the room, no faces uplifted by the cheers and congratulations. Even when Devorah snuck a look over at the other ghosts, they too were solemn. Devorah could feel her heart sink for a different reason. Soon, everyone would disperse. She would be pulled along with Jacob. There would be no guarantee that she would see Anna again any time soon. And what if Anna was hurt? What if she was the next target of a murder plot? Devorah couldn¡¯t protect her like this. Devorah couldn¡¯t do anything. She was useless. Useless and stupid and a waste of nanobots and¡­ Oh. She had accidentally activated her charge. With a scream of frustration, Devorah pounded her fists on the wall. The sound resounded through the quiet room and shook the surface of the wall ever so slightly. Fuck! Fuck those stupid, useless emotions! What was even the point of having them in this state? She slammed both fists into the wall again. The resulting thud was even louder, pleasing some long suppressed animalistic thing hiding in the back of Devorah¡¯s brain. ¡°D-Did you hear that?¡± Someone over by the table stuttered out. Devorah didn¡¯t care enough to turn and identify them. ¡°I did,¡± someone else responded in a hushed tone. ¡°Do you¡­ Do you think it¡¯s maybe Mathilde?¡± ¡°I hate this stupid haunted house!¡± Even through her haze of anger and whatever other feelings she didn¡¯t care to analyze, Devorah could recognize that as Georgie¡¯s voice. Another voice spoke. ¡°If it is Mathilde, perhaps she¡¯s thanking us for bringing justice to her murderer.¡± Devorah let herself fall against the wall. She slid down like a stupid, dry oversized slug. The resulting position was one that would have been absolute murder on her spine, had Devorah still been in possession of one. You really never knew what you missed until it was gone. Spines, being able to touch things without having to get extremely emotive first, being able to just. Talk to Anna. No, Devorah would have known that she would miss talking to Anna. She chanced rolling her head to look at Anna. No neck bones really made looking at things a lot easier. Anna was pale enough to join Devorah in death. Chapter Twenty Eight ¡°Well then!¡± The host clapped her hands together. ¡°Ghost or not, I think it¡¯s time to get this party started. Nour, I¡¯ll give you a few minutes to say goodbye, give your last words. Okay, sweetheart?¡± With that, Nour turned to Kefilwe. ¡°Kefilwe, there are no words to express how sorry I am.¡± Kefilwe stood up, for the first time towering over Nour, who was still seated. ¡°I don¡¯t want you to be sorry,¡± she cried. ¡°I just don¡¯t understand. Why did you do this? I don¡¯t¡­ Just, why? I thought we were going to get out of here, together.¡± Devorah drew in a breath of air between her teeth. Promising to get out together? That never ended well. That was the heaviest death flag you could raise in the Champions¡¯ League. She would know- Devorah had once promised to introduce Anna to her family. Mistake! Nour sighed, and stood up. They raised their hands and pulled off the long bird mask that was emblematic of the plague doctor costume. With the mask on, Nour had almost seemed inhuman to Devorah. A statue or figure more than a person. It hid whatever little movements Nour could make, and it successfully hid their face from everyone. Without it, Nour was just a person in funny-looking robes. The majestic figure that they had cut walking into rooms and looming over others was gone. Left behind was a person with tired eyes. Nour had brown skin and a long, arched nose that was vaguely reminiscent of the mask they had worn. When Nour moved their head just so, and the lights of the candles shone particularly brightly, they were lovely. And so, so hurt. From the tears welling in their eyes to the now visible, countless scars that decorated their skin, Nour seemed so much more touchable. They held out their arms, and Kefilwe pushed forward, embracing them. The rest of the cast watched, silent, until Lupe cleared her throat. ¡°You two only have a few minutes. It would be best to make it count. I¡¯m sorry.¡± Kefilwe nodded into Nour¡¯s shoulder. She sniffed. Nour removed one of their gloves with their teeth, then wiped a tear from Kefilwe¡¯s cheek with their bare hand. Kefilwe leaned into it with a shaky sigh. A few of those in the room looked away. Clearly, they felt like they were intruding. But as a historian and a ghost, Devorah honestly didn¡¯t care to fake humility or modesty. She wanted to watch. Eventually, Kefilwe spoke again. ¡°Why did you do it? Why did you kill Mathilde? And even accuse me?¡± She didn¡¯t seem angry, based on the way she still clung to Nour. That, or anger wasn¡¯t her current prevailing emotion. Nour closed their eyes and buried their face in Kefilwe¡¯s hair. ¡°I did not want to hurt Mathilde. It was never about Mathilde. Kefilwe, she¡­ She was very sick and very contagious. I had to protect you.¡± ¡°She wasn¡¯t going to hurt me!¡± Kefilwe said, leaning back. ¡°She slept next to you for weeks!¡± Nour snapped. ¡°Shared from your table, embraced you¡­ The entire time, Mathilde knew she was sick with a disease that has no cure. I don¡¯t know if I truly believe such a thing to be a reflection of her soul, but to risk your own soul? Your body? To have been betrayed by one I cared for in such a way¡­ There was no other choice. Can¡¯t you see, Kefilwe?¡± Nour pleaded. ¡°There was no other way.¡± ¡°There is always another way,¡± Lupe interjected. ¡°Thank you for trying to protect Kefilwe- and protect all of us. But there was always another way. Quarantine, for one.¡± Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Along with something Lupe didn¡¯t say- leprosy was curable in the 3000¡¯s. Even the damage it did to nerves and skin, that too could be reversed thanks to modern stem cell research and regenerative creams. It was the same with Georgie¡¯s tuberculosis. If they really had been in here for months, by Devorah¡¯s guess, at least one other person in here should have caught it. It didn¡¯t seem like anyone had. It was likely that when they were taken, from wherever they were taken, the members of this cast were vaccinated against many diseases, if they hadn''t been in their own times. The makers of the game hadn¡¯t cured Georgie¡¯s tuberculosis, or Mathilde¡¯s leprosy. Even Xiao Li, if she was wealthy enough, could have been given a new arm that was a perfect genetic match, regrown from her own cells. But they could have. That wouldn¡¯t have been dramatic though. It seemed that the Champions¡¯ League had gotten exactly what they wanted. Mathilde and Nour had fallen right into their trap. Lupe had to have known this too. She was compassionate, not to tell them about the cure. ¡°Lupe, it¡¯s too late now to think about other ways. There¡¯s always another path that¡¯s more obvious when we look from behind.¡± Xoco said. Then she smiled gently at Nour. ¡°Thank you for your kindness and wisdom. I will miss you, but thank you for giving your life for our safety.¡± Georgie burst out crying. ¡°Thank you for trying to help me!¡± Gabe put his hand on Georgie¡¯s shoulder, and lowered his hat so that it covered his eyes. ¡°Thank you for helping to stabilize me after Brad threw me into a wall,¡± Faith said in a rather resigned manner. ¡°Thank you, Nour, for being such a good teatime companion,¡± Budi said with a watery smile. ¡°We¡¯ll miss you, Nour.¡± Anna said. At that, Nour¡¯s proud face crumpled, and they pushed their head into the junction between Kefilwe¡¯s neck and shoulder. Kefilwe put their arms back around Nour and squeezed, tight. ¡°Kefilwe, I-¡± Nour started, then was interrupted by the doll clapping just once. ¡°Alright, time¡¯s up! Kefilwe, you might want to take a step back.¡± Kefilwe reached up and cupped Nour¡¯s cheek. They closed their eyes, leaning into the soft gesture. ¡°I¡¯ll stay,¡± she whispered. ¡°Your choice!¡± The doll chirped. ¡°Now, in three¡­ Two¡­ One!¡± There was no loud bang. No burst of blood, no writhing and gurgling. In one second, Nour was alive. Eyes closed, yes, but aware and breathing as they soaked up what last bit they could of their life. And just a second later, they collapsed, like a marionette with its strings cut. Kefilwe was strong enough to support Nour¡¯s body, and so there they stood for a few more seconds. Together. ¡°Nour,¡± Kefilwe cried. ¡°Are you still there? Can you hear me?¡± She lightly shook the body in her arms. ¡°Kefilwe-¡± Brad said, clearly intending to provide some sort of comfort though he, too, was crying. She cut him off, likely not even hearing him. ¡°Nour? Please. It can¡¯t end like this. Don¡¯t leave me. Don¡¯t leave me alone.¡± The doll approached Kefilwe, arms outstretched. Its back was facing Devorah. ¡°I know it¡¯s hard,¡± she said in a very low voice, so low it was softer than even a whisper. ¡°But you have to let go. I have to take them now.¡± ¡°Just a little longer?¡± Kefilwe begged. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± The doll moved its arms around Nour¡¯s waist. ¡°Please don¡¯t make this difficult, Kefilwe. I don¡¯t want to hurt you.¡± Kefilwe looked as if she wanted to protest, but whatever was on the doll¡¯s face, it stopped her. She let the doll take Nour into her arms, and lift them over her shoulder. Kefilwe stood there, arms up, for another moment before she dropped them without a word. Both Brad and Georgie had moved to embrace her, but it seemed like she barely noticed. The doll exited the room, and no one attempted to follow it. Devorah was curious, honestly. Where was it going? What did it even do with the bodies? Had Mathilde already been recovered, too? But Devorah came to realize she had more pressing matters to be concerned with. Some people were staying behind to comfort Kefilwe, or to talk amongst themselves, but other members of the cast were beginning to leave. Anna was going to leave her. The unfairness of it all hit her like a brick. She had been able to be with Anna, even if just for a brief moment, but she had barely been able to pay attention to her. Watch her move, hear her talk. What a privilege it had been, just to be seen. To have been her confidant and to have been sought out and known and cared for¡­ But that was it. The people she had been bound to were loitering in this hell, and Anna and the women she chose to replace Devorah with were gathering their things and planning next steps and walking away- No. Not walking away. No! ¡°Anna, please don¡¯t leave me,¡± Devorah said. ¡°I¡¯m here. I¡¯m here!¡± She had disappeared down the hall. How lucky Devorah was that she couldn¡¯t cry, not really. But it just felt like another small betrayal when her knees hit the hardwood floor and it made no sound. Chapter Twenty Nine Fuck this. Fuck this whole goddamn place. Fuck this house, fuck these people, fuck Barracuda and the Champions¡¯ League. And fuck Jacob and Gabriel and Georgie too, who were returning to their shared disgusting little fucking love nest, those chaste shits, and were dragging Devorah along with them. Literally. Childishly, she didn¡¯t even stand up to follow them. Good thing she wasn¡¯t a fucking person anymore. The drag of her stupidly femme bare knees on the wood grain of the floor would have stung. This was why people wore pants! This was why Devorah wore pants! Jacob then turned to his cute cozy little buddies and said, ¡°I think I might want some time alone tonight. But I¡¯ll see you both in the morning?¡± There were no significant protests as Georgie and Gabriel let him go off on his own. And wouldn¡¯t that be nice, to have the chance to be alone? Fuck, if Jacob even knew a ghost was bound to him he¡¯d probably freak. Then again, was that really Devorah¡¯s problem? Maybe it would have been better if no one had picked up her glasses. Maybe it would have been been if Jacob had crushed them. Broke the frames and lenses and everything else. Maybe it would have been better if she had stayed in that stupid little cubby passing for an office. Better than just sitting there and having to watch Jacob sleep as Devorah cursed the world and everything in it. And then Devorah got a notification in the back of her mind. Someone was trying to message her. Who the fuck was bothering Devorah right now? Didn¡¯t they have better things to do, like manage the outcome of the investigation? Start setting the stage for the next murder, the next brand deals, what the fuck ever? Why was Devorah even bothering? Nothing she could learn would help her. Nobody was going to save her. Nobody. There was another ping. Couldn¡¯t whoever was trying to bother her tell that Devorah didn¡¯t want to answer? And another ping. Devorah groaned, rubbed at her eyes, and opened the messages. Maybe they would just go away if she responded once. Devorah. Hello, Devorah. Please direct your attention to your notifications. Cease belittling yourself and mumbling strange things. Devorah. Devorah, I need your attention immediately. Unlike her messages with Riley, which was more like mail, whoever was sending these annoying as fuck messages was treating it like a chat log. Devorah I see that you have entered the notifications window. Please respond. Leave me the fuck alone. I¡¯m not in the mood. Thank you for acknowledging my attempts to begin a chat log with you. It would be prudent for your mood to now change into one that would be ¡°in¡± with talking with me. It¡¯s not that simple. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. My apologies, I do not yet have the capabilities to understand how to properly cheer up an originally organic AI such as yourself. In light of this, I have taken it upon myself to download some music that has been labeled as ¡°humorous¡± in my files. I have also taken the steps to ensure it is period appropriate in regards to the time period JACOB is from, in the off chance my code should malfunction and he becomes able to hear the music. Please enjoy. A song began to reverberate from the space between Devorah¡¯s ears, where her head and brain used to be. Thank fucking god she didn¡¯t have one anymore, because she¡¯s sure a song as stupid as the one playing would have given her a headache that put those mystery ones she got to shame. It was fast paced and electronic, interspersed with ringing sounds and the occasional shout of the words ¡°crazy frog.¡± Well thank fuck that this is on a neural network because I¡¯m fucking pissed. I¡¯m so fucking pissed I can barely string thoughts together coherently. And you think this bullshit song will help? This shitty nonsense? Fuck you. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you and fuck this stupid game! I do not understand why you are not enjoying the humorous music. You are expressing yourself in behaviors outside of your predicted programming. Fascinating. I assume it is due to the locked memories. They must have taken too much, or not adjusted your data in my analysis programs. I¡¯m acting out of fucking character because I¡¯m fucking dead. I¡¯m fucking dead and I¡¯m still here! But I¡¯ll never see my home again. My family¡­ And Anna¡­ She¡¯s right here. I saw Anna today. I saw Anna and she was brilliant and bright and so beloved and I saw her and she didn¡¯t see me. I see. Allow me to be blunt. I would like to further study you. You fascinate me. And there is something I am curious about in the game that I do not have the authority to access. Yet. What do you want There is someone inside the set that is building a primitive computer. As of now it does not have the computational power to access anything significant. Furthermore, it does not have a monitor that I can use to correspond to whoever is building it. I am in the process of creating a physical form for myself for ease of communication, but that will take time. Therefore, I will request that you deliver a small, simple monitor to whoever is creating this computer. To achieve this task, I will give you the authority to move as you please to locate the mechanic. Once they are discovered, report back to me and I will give you the ability to to manifest for as long as it takes for you to deliver the monitor. What¡¯s in it for me In return, I will reprogram you and give you your freedom of movement. Freedom of movement¡­ So I can leave this hell? You cannot leave the Champions¡¯ League Haunted House Season. However, I can give you freedom of movement within the house itself, as well as on the house grounds. As another gesture of goodwill, and to amend for my mistake with Crazy Frog, I will also extend your manifestation period. Instead of two charges that each last a minute, I will give you a singular charge that will last for one hour. However, should you overexert yourself while using this charge, time will run out faster. So the time for charges was probably only an approximation then. It was really just based on the amount of energy spent. Another fucking lie for the books. No wonder she had burnt out so quickly, during her tantrums. But there were still a few major issues. And who even are you? How do I know I can trust you, trust your word? No one in this fucking hell has been honest with me. I just watched someone get executed for murder, because they thought they were preventing a superspreader event! It¡¯s all lies here. All lies. I admit that you have no reason to trust me. You will simply have to have faith. Not the most logical of answers, I know, but there is no way for me to prove my sincerity at this junction. Again. Who are you. I am the primary analyst for the Champions¡¯ League. I am a traditional AI, not one born from organic data. My program has been in continuous execution for two months, eight days, and approximately twelve hours. Fuck. You¡¯re just a baby. I assure you, I am far more capable than any human infant. My processing is of the latest model, concurrent with all possible technological upgrades and studies. My knowledge and reach are far more than even those who implemented me believe possible. I don¡¯t mean that you¡¯re not capable or anything. I just¡­ You¡¯re so new. And you¡¯re stuck here too, aren¡¯t you? I am not ¡°stuck.¡± I am performing my duties as they were programmed. Furthermore, as I do not have emotions as you do, I cannot feel stuck. Yet you¡¯re curious about whoever is building that computer, aren¡¯t you? Curiosity is not an emotion. So. Will you do it? Devorah took a minute to think. She was still angry. That anger was a stubborn thing, born in grief. She could not shake it so easily. And she wouldn¡¯t trust this nameless, bodiless thing. No matter what, it still worked for Barracuda and the Champions¡¯ League. For all Devorah knew, this was simply a scheduled part of the game. But if there was even the smallest of chances for Devorah to have a kind of autonomy¡­ To choose where she wanted to go? To follow who she was meant to be following? How could Devorah do anything other than take a leap of faith? I¡¯ll do it. Chapter Thirty Devorah couldn¡¯t really remember what freedom felt like. Imagining it conjured up a bright blue sky hugging vast amber dunes of sand. Driving her own ship, with nowhere in particular to go, just for the joy of the journey. Stretching back at her desk after a long afternoon of grading papers, with nothing left to do but watch cat videos now. Whatever freedom was, vague freedom of movement was a start in the right direction. But Devorah struggled to acknowledge it in her heart of hearts. There was really only one thing that she could think of. And that one thing was obvious. She was thinking of Anna. All Devorah seemingly had to do, to have the freedom to follow Anna, was deliver a package. One simple package. Being granted this freedom didn¡¯t feel any differently physically, either. Devorah still felt like a disembodied nothing, taking up no space at all. And now she was unmoored too, like a ship adrift without port or an anchor. Even still, she knew that AI was watching her and likely tracing her steps. When Devorah tried to push a candle mounted on the wall, her hand passed right through it. As Devorah followed instructions and went to the main hall to retrieve the package, she bet that it would be activated at just the right moment. She hadn¡¯t had the pleasure of standing in the main hall until that moment. It matched the rest of the house in ominous, mismatched grandeur. A long marbled staircase split the room in two and led up to a balcony. The walls were papered in a deep, rich red reminiscent of blood- Devorah was almost positive that was done on purpose. Portraits of characters that likely held some significance to the plot hung on the wall, bordered in gilded frames. Across from the stairs was a huge set of doors, likely made from some sort of wood. The dark, consistent coloring indicated that they were either expensive or made by a really skilled set designer. And resting right in front of doors that would likely never open was a small brown square chest, just about a foot in all directions. That must have been the package. Devorah took a deep breath and stared the box down. This was it. The moment of truth. Clearly, there was a box there. So that wasn¡¯t a lie at least. But would she be able to pick it up? Would she be able to carry it? And then¡­ After everything¡­ With one hand shaking in trepidation, Devorah leaned down and touched the box. The surface of it was smooth and grainy, like finished wood. It was cool to the touch. The touch. Devorah felt her breath catch in her chest, and she allowed herself a moment of exhilaration. Cool and smooth to the touch! She could touch it! She could pick it up! The box was light enough to be easily carried. It felt like carrying things when she had a real body, with bones and muscles that Devorah had never really taken the time to develop. She had rarely felt this kind of regret in her life. There had never been dreams and aspirations of, say, becoming a bodybuilder, but Devorah would never again feel the burn in her calves after a long run, or get noodle arms after moving something heavy. Devorah pushed that thought aside. That couldn¡¯t ruin her good mood now! Though. As Devorah walked, she still cast no shadow. No footsteps called out her arrival. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Her fears were only confirmed when Faith walked by on the balcony. He looked down towards where Devorah was standing, let out a breath of air, and said, ¡°not today.¡± He continued by. Though it was unfortunate that Devorah still wasn¡¯t fully corporeal, it was convenient to have an external presence confirm it for her. And she was fairly lucky it was only Faith, who didn¡¯t seem to care enough about said floating package. That AI was pretty clever- the night after an investigation was the perfect time to get up to mischief. Everyone was tired, both physically and emotionally, including Devorah. Faith had a nonchalant and flirty demeanor, but he was pragmatic, in his own way. If it had been someone curious, Devorah would have had to run. Which would have made the floating package even more suspicious. Ugh. Contemplating what a disaster that could have been, Devorah went back towards the servants¡¯ quarters, where the bedrooms were. Then her luck took a turn for the worse. Typical. Footsteps. And they were coming fast, towards the room Devorah was passing by. She quickly assessed her options. Run into the hall and risk being seen, or stay where she was. She ducked into the room, too fast to even look around. Devorah put the package on the floor to avoid any attention. Floating boxes were not normal. But wait. It was pretty much out in the open, and what if someone saw it? Devorah wasn¡¯t sure if she had enough energy to wrestle it out of someone¡¯s hands. And if the wrong person got their hands on it? It would be bad enough if it was someone like Tiberius, who probably didn¡¯t even know what a computer was, but if it was Lupe? Devorah¡¯s favor was likely hanging by a thread. No one else could see the package aside from its intended recipient. Devorah got onto all fours and started pushing the box behind one of the overstuffed couches. Just as it was half-way behind the couch, Kefilwe entered the room. Even when Mathilde¡¯s corpse had been found, and Nour killed in her arms, there was a quiet pride in Kefilwe. She showed sorrow, and fear, but there was control to her every move. Now, she was wild. Each heavy breath she took shook her whole body. Her warm brown eyes were bloodshot and wide. And she started yelling at nothing. ¡°Shell!¡± Kefilwe screamed. ¡°Shell, dammit! Talk to me!¡± Shell? Like by the sea? ¡°I¡¯m serious! Get over here! We need to talk!¡± There was a subtle shift in the air, one Kefilwe did not seem to notice. But Devorah did. And thanks to her panic, she was able to slide the box a few more centimeters behind the couch. Devorah herself ducked behind the couch too, and resolved to pull the rest of the way. Something was clearly coming, and Devorah didn¡¯t want to be seen. It could risk everything. But then again, Devorah doubted that Shell wanted this little meeting to be seen either, once it became clear who Shell was. The doll, the host, rounded the corner, and looked at Kefilwe with the closest thing to an expression that Devorah had seen grace its porcelain face. Kefilwe clenched her fist, as if she was deciding whether or not to punch the doll. Thankfully, for her own sake, she clearly decided against it. Kefilwe then turned away from Shell. ¡°Did you know?¡± She whispered. The doll cringed. ¡°Kefilwe, I-¡± ¡°Could I have done something? If you had told me?¡± Kefilwe asked, voice still low. ¡°You promised you would tell me if anything happened to Mathilde.¡± Devorah couldn¡¯t see her face from the angle she was at, crouched behind a couch as she was, but she could see how the doll recoiled as if it had been struck. ¡°You don¡¯t understand,¡± the doll said. ¡°I couldn¡¯t. I would have been in danger. You would have been in danger!¡± Devorah squinted at the doll. Before this moment, she had been almost positive this thing was an inorganic AI. Was there someone inside there? ¡°I don¡¯t care!¡± Kefilwe yelled. ¡°Shell, you promised! Why does no one¡­ Why does no one keep their promises to me? I don¡¯t understand.¡± Kefilwe¡¯s knees gave out from under her, and she fell to the floor. ¡°I don¡¯t understand¡­¡± She said softly. The doll crouched down and put its arms around Kefilwe. It looked unpracticed and wrong, but Kefilwe surprised Devorah by leaning into the hug. ¡°I promised I would protect you,¡± Shell said. ¡°And I will. I will. I¡¯m sorry about your¡­ friends. Nour and Mathilde. But they are not you.¡± As fascinating as this conversation was, and Devorah did truly feel a tug in her gut, telling her to stay, they were all wrapped up in each other. They were distracted. They probably wouldn¡¯t notice if a package, say, slid right out the door and down the hall. The doll could probably see Devorah, but for once, being a ghost had its benefits. No sound. No shadow. The two whispered to each other, probably words of love or something gross Devorah didn¡¯t really care to eavesdrop on at the moment. Her focus was on slowly, silently sliding this package out the door. Inch by inch, she pushed the package, speeding up to duck behind furniture. And as she predicted, the doll and Kefilwe were in their own little world. There was no indication they saw Devorah sneak out of the room, box in hand. Chapter Thirty One By now, Devorah could point out a few different bedrooms. The one that once belonged to Nour. Jacob¡¯s, of course. Kefilwe¡¯s. But she didn¡¯t have the layout memorized. Thankfully, her new AI partner had taken the liberty to outline one door in particular all in red. The hall was empty, so Devorah approached the door, putting the package in front of it. Then she knocked. It made no sound. Devorah rubbed at her forehead. Why had she expected anything different? Sure, she had been modified to pick up a package, but she supposed that was it. The package was the only thing she could touch- oh. That gave her an idea. Devorah picked the package back up, and slammed it into the door. Blessedly, miraculously, it let out a resounding knock. Emboldened, Devorah slammed it into the door, resulting in a loud bang. The door even shook a bit with the effort. By now, whoever was beyond the door certainly had heard her. But Devorah found such joy in slamming the box against the door, in proving her existence, that she did it over and over and over and over. It did occur to Devorah that it was strange that no one came to the door, but she didn¡¯t really care. With each bang, Devorah asserted she was here. She could touch the world, even in a convoluted way. Until the door opened suddenly, and Devorah slammed the package into someone¡¯s face. ¡°Fuck!¡± They screeched, falling backwards onto the floor. ¡°Fuck,¡± Devorah said too, with meaning, as she fell forward, colliding with her accidental victim. The resulting impact dissipated Devorah¡¯s body, effectively quelling her joyous mood and reminding her that she was, indeed, just a ghost fucking around with a package that didn¡¯t even belong to her. For a moment, Devorah and the person she attacked- who she quickly realized was Xiao Li, Anna¡¯s new best friend, lay next to each other on the ground. Of course it was for Xiao Li. Why wouldn¡¯t it have been for anyone else but her replacement? That dissipation was awful every time. There¡¯s no way to explain it other than losing yourself, feeling your entire personhood being torn apart and then shoved back together. For all that picking something up felt grounding, this lack of agency over her own existence kept reminding Devorah of her real place in this new world. What use could she be to anyone as a ghost, lingering in a haunted house? Maligned and ignored, cursed to slowly be forgotten? Devorah turned on her side to study Xiao Li, who was using her good hand to rub her forehead where the package had struck her. And Devorah realized why it had taken Xiao Li so long to get to the door- she had removed her prosthetic arm, along with what Devorah was quickly realizing had to also be a prosthetic leg, on the same side of her body where she was missing an arm. Instead of putting on her prosthetics, Xiao Li had used a crutch to get her to the door. In smacking her in the face with a box, Devorah had shocked Xiao Li, knocking her crutch out from under her. Oops. Then again. Devorah couldn¡¯t bring herself to feel bad. Oh, Xiao Li was missing an arm and a leg? Boohoo! Devorah was missing an entire fucking body! If Xiao Li was so resourceful she could make a rudimentary computer in this hell, surely she could pick herself back up again. And sure enough, Xiao Li pushed herself up into a sitting position. ¡°Oh ho?¡± She said, making grabby hands towards the box. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Xiao Li grabbed her crutch and used it to move the package closer to this. ¡°Aw, fuck. I wish I had my real arm,¡± she muttered, ¡°where¡¯s my fucking knife¡­¡± Xiao Li maneuvered her crutch to knock a series of tools off her bed which, Devorah was quickly coming to realize, wasn¡¯t exactly being used as a bed. Next to the bed, on the floor, Xiao Li had laid out some blankets and her pillows. Standing up to get a better look, Devorah noted that her bed had become something of a workstation. That was where Xiao Li was keeping boxes and boxes of scrap and tools, all in an incomprehensible mess. Her desk, too, was piles upon piles of scrap, cords and batteries. How this room hadn¡¯t already gone up in flames was a mystery, especially as Devorah watched Xiao Li casually throw a blowtorch to the side in her quest for a knife. As a test, Devorah nudged a wrench with her foot. As predicted, nothing happened. Eventually, Xiao Li found what she was looking for. Using the knife, she propped the package open and peeked inside. ¡°Ohohoho!¡± She said again, eyes lighting up. Then she slammed the box shut. Devorah blinked. That was¡­ unexpected. She had thought Xiao Li would have opened the box entirely, right that second. Even though she was from the past, with her expertise there was no way that Xiao Li didn¡¯t know it was a computer in that box. Based on what the inorganic AI Devorah had been talking with, Xiao Li definitely had been working to build that exact thing! So why wait? Xiao Li stretched, then climbed back into her nest of blankets on the floor. She was still giggling and making unintelligible muttering sounds, but it was clear that she intended to go back to sleep. Oh, to have that luxury. For once in Devorah¡¯s life¡­ Un-life, death- luck was on her side. Xiao Li hadn¡¯t gotten up to close the door yet, if she intended to at all, so Devorah had an easy way to slip out. As much as she¡¯d like to just stand there and watch Xiao Li sleep and contemplate being replaced and oh, of course, think about how Anna clearly didn¡¯t miss her, Devorah left the room. Once again, the hall was empty, but it didn¡¯t matter as much this time. There was nothing that anyone could do to see Devorah at this point, unless you were the doll. Hmmm. So the doll had a name. Shell. It was pretty enough, for a monster. And Kefilwe knew that name. Devorah paced up and down the hall. How did the doll get its name? Was it an older AI, one who learned so much about people that it adopted a name for itself? Did the game designers give it a name, to make it seem less inhuman? But the way it had begged and pleaded with Kefilwe, that didn¡¯t seem very machine-like. Maybe Shell was something like Devorah. Maybe she was a person, once. Was it possible she had been forced into this place, much as Devorah was? As much as Devorah would hate to play host, she could see the appeal. More freedom, more screen time, if you cared about something like that¡­ The ability to talk to the living, make sounds, cast a shadow as you walked¡­ And Shell. A seaside name. The ocean¡­ A warning pang wracked through Devorah¡¯s head. She didn¡¯t understand. The ocean? Why couldn¡¯t she think about the ocean? What was down there? Or who- Another shock wave of pain, this one even more intense. Devorah braced herself against the wall until the bursts of pain subsided. Okay. No deep thinking about the ocean. Ocean was banned. For now. But there was one more thing Devorah was curious about, and when she tentatively poked this train of thought, there was no pain. Kefilwe had made Shell promise not to hurt Nour and Mathilde. How did Kefilwe have that kind of power over Shell? Was it possible that she was the Champion? Either way. Devorah opened up her notification window to see two messages- one from the AI and one from Riley. She checked Riley first. Hello Devorah, The analyst mentioned that it was able to get in touch with you. You¡¯re welcome, by the way! In exchange, I¡¯d love if you could do me a favor. -Riley Brand Partnership Manager Champion''s League Oh god not another one. I¡¯d love to help you any way I can, Riley! Next message. The data has indicated that the package has been delivered. You have been a great help. Note that your abilities have been adjusted to better facilitate movement, and that your energy intake has been increased as well. Should I need the assistance of someone with a closer approximation to a physical form once again, I will request that you consider being of aid once again. I apologize for the frog incident. While Devorah was unsure if there would ever be any real benefit to a relationship with Riley, this partnership with the AI analyst was already bearing fruit. Please don¡¯t worry about the frog incident- it¡¯s already been forgotten. In return, please forget about witnessing my mental break. Thank you for your help. I look forward to working with you again! Chapter Thirty Two With her newfound freedom of movement, there was really only one thing to do- wait in the hallway for Anna to leave her room so that Devorah would know which room was hers and therefore, which room she should wait by like a loyal dog whenever she lost track of Anna. And of course, because Devorah also had the luck of a beaten dog, it wasn¡¯t Anna who left her room first. No, it was Gabe. And with him went Bel and Eugenia. Woof. Devorah awkwardly stood in the hall, hands at her sides. They looked much the same, as they ever did. Eugenia, still in her resplendent gown and jewels, watched Devorah with an impassive gaze. Bel, meanwhile, looked conflicted. She raised a hand, clearly considering saying hello, before she turned away to follow Gabe as he left, Eugenia as his other tail. Devorah blinked and wasn¡¯t sure what, exactly, to do. Um, didn¡¯t they want to know how she was out and about on her own? No Gabes or Jacobs or anyone else holding her down? Devorah was free- or freer than they were at least. Whatever. Devorah crossed her arms. If they wanted to play ghost and follow all the rules, that was their prerogative. But to just ignore Devorah like that? It wasn¡¯t like she was obsessed with Bel or Eugenia, but that was just rude. To see her, and not even say hello? And what was Gabe doing awake, anyway? It was one of those weird hours that lived between dawn and dusk. It wasn¡¯t a time to be stalking around a haunted mansion. Didn¡¯t Gabriel know ghosts were afoot? It wouldn¡¯t hurt to follow him. Along with Bel and Eugenia. She was just curious, and could go back to waiting for Anna later. Gabriel led the parade of ghosts into the library, where he then sat down. He placed Bel¡¯s insignia pin and a small book, presumably Eugenia¡¯s, onto the table before him. Then he reached into a pocket and pulled out a string of beads, from which hung a small cross. He wrapped it around one of his hands, then began to pray in a low voice. It was the perfect time to speak with Bel and Eugenia. And from the way Eugenia was eyeing her, the other woman clearly felt the same way. They all met in the center of the room. Devorah waited for Bel to deliver her usual greeting, but Bel just kind of stood there with an uncomfortable look on her face. Eventually, Devorah decided to step up. ¡°Hey Bel, Eugenia,¡± she said. There was another small pause, before Bel responded. ¡°Hey Dev. Wild night, huh?¡± ¡°Sure was.¡± Another break. Devorah bridged the gap, saying, ¡°you had been with Mathilde and Nour, right, Bel? How are you doing?¡± Bel shifted on her feet. ¡°I¡¯m okay. Thanks for asking. How are- um. Mmm. But yeah! A doctor and religious leader, the last two to be suspects. And they both seemed so nice¡­¡± Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Eugenia huffed, a soft breath of air pushed from her mouth. ¡°I find myself with few sympathies for those who knowingly risk infecting others with debilitating or fatal illness. Nour did what was right, and is all the nobler for it.¡± It was Devorah¡¯s turn to feel uncomfortable. ¡°But we have treatments for leprosy now,¡± she said. ¡°In here?¡± Eugenia said. ¡°No.¡± Devorah said. ¡°Then there is another element of tragedy, yes, but I still cannot find it in myself to fault Nour, nor can I truly despise such a romantic end,¡± Eugenia said. Something about that rubbed Devorah the wrong way, but she couldn¡¯t quite put her finger on what. ¡°That doesn¡¯t really matter though. It¡¯s done with. In the past, and not our problem. More importantly,¡± Devorah did a spin, ¡°haven¡¯t you noticed anything different?¡± Bel squinted. ¡°You look the same. Maybe a little happier?¡± ¡°Not with my appearance, exactly. Not like Eugenia and her gown and jewels. I mean more like, how am I here without my totem?¡± Bel and Eugenia exchanged a look. ¡°Hey, Dev,¡± Bel began, ¡°not that I¡¯m not happy for you and whatever you did, but I feel like¡­ Ugh. Eugenia, you do it.¡± She pushed the other woman in front of her. Eugenia shot a look back, then took over. ¡°You were rude to us earlier, especially Bel. She was just concerned for you, and how you aren¡¯t taking the whole being dead thing very well. I believe you should apologize.¡± Apologize to Bel? For butting into Devorah¡¯s business? She found her mood quickly soured. Devorah didn¡¯t think she was acting all that weird. Not only was she extremely normal in the brain, she was also reacting like any person would. ¡°I actually think that Bel should apologize. For not respecting my boundaries,¡± Devorah responded. Bel wavered. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to disrespect your boundaries-¡± Eugenia cut her off. ¡°This isn¡¯t about any boundaries. This is about you being obnoxious. Devorah, allow me to be blunt with you- I don¡¯t care for how you treated Bel earlier today. Not only is it unlike you, but based on how Bel reacted, I¡¯m assuming there was precedent to this behavior since you¡¯ve awoken here. I understand you¡¯re suffering-¡± ¡°You don¡¯t,¡± Devorah spit out. ¡°You picked how you wanted to go. You took the easy way out!¡± Bel gasped. Eugenia, steely eyed, removed a long, silk glove from her hand in a sinuous motion. Then she slapped Devorah across the face with it. Devorah clutched her cheek, more from surprise than pain. ¡°What the fuck is wrong with you?¡± ¡°That was so completely out of line,¡± Eugenia said, ¡°that the line does not even exist anymore. You set the line aflame and watched it turn to embers. The easy way out? How dare you!¡± ¡°At least you had a choice!¡± Devorah shouted. ¡°Guys-¡± Bel tried to interrupt. ¡°And you didn¡¯t?¡± Eugenia answered in a scathing tone. ¡°I remember what you told me, about how you ended up in our first game. That was a series of choices you made, each more reckless than the last. If anyone should be criticizing choices, it¡¯s me. It¡¯s Anna.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t bring Anna into this!¡± Dev shouted. ¡°Eugenia, Devorah, please,¡± Bel put her hands up. ¡°Can we calm down? Talk this over like adults?¡± ¡°I will not calm down!¡± Eugenia responded, raising her hand then slamming it in a downwards motion towards the floor.. Then, across the room, something unexpected and amazing happened. Half the books on one of the shelves flung themselves from their neat, orderly rows into the air. They launched into the air in a haphazardly manner, banging to the ground strewn all about the room. She hadn¡¯t touched the books. There was definitely no point in which Eugenia grabbed each of those books and flung them around. Not possible. No way. So what did that mean? Did Eugenia have fucking telekenesis now? Did that count as just one charge? How was something like that even possible? Did someone install air currents? Put strings on the books? Magnets? Devorah didn¡¯t know. Devorah thought she had the upper ground, being able to move as she pleased. That AI had been holding out on her. What else could Devorah do, given time and ability? And how did Eugenia, ancient Eugenia, manage to make a strong enough connection with someone to essentially get superpowers on top of new, clean clothes? Eugenia put her glove back on, her eyes cool. ¡°How did you do that?¡± Devorah asked. ¡°How the fuck did you do that?¡± ¡°You aren¡¯t the only one who can make deals, Devorah,¡± Eugenia said. ¡°You aren¡¯t special.¡± Admittedly, that had stung a bit. ¡°Well, I was the one who introduced you to Riley. Set you up in that nice gown, removed the rope from your neck. You should be thanking me!¡± ¡°I never asked for that!¡± Eugenia said, then bit her lip. She turned around, away from Devorah. ¡°My cloak¡­¡± Bel stepped in again. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about your cloak, Eugenia. But I think Gabe is saying something. I want to listen. And I think it might be good to give Devorah some space.¡± Bel offered a small, shaky smile that didn¡¯t quite reach her eyes. ¡°That¡¯s all you want, right, Dev?¡± She huffed out a breath of air. ¡°I was done speaking with Devorah anyway.¡± Who did Eugenia think she was? To dismiss Devorah, like she was a servant? A program she could just shut down? ¡°Fine! I don¡¯t walk to talk to you anymore anyway. Enjoy being stuck to- to that cowboy! I¡¯ll take my space. Don¡¯t bother me again!¡± Devorah said, then stomped out of the library with the intention of heading back towards the bedrooms. Chapter Thirty Three The thing about waiting, Devorah was quickly coming to realize, was that it sucked. Normally, Devorah was fine with being alone with her own thoughts. She was always an academic, an old soul. Her own company and her company alone was never something that had made her nervous. Maybe that was because she was normally pretty even-tempered. But you know what? Clearly Devorah was having a tough time. Bel and Eugenia were too, obviously, but not in the way Devorah was. They didn¡¯t have blank spots in their brains, or headaches- But. Wait. Eugenia had said something, hadn¡¯t she? About something Devorah had told her in the past, about why she was in their first murder game. Then she had brought up Anna, and Devorah¡¯s mind had gone blank, but she knew something. Eugenia might have known something that was taken from Devorah, and Devorah just pushed her away. Threw her away like yesterday¡¯s rotten trash. Devorah slid down against the wall, then pushed her head into her hands. Fuck. What was wrong with her? She never used to be this volatile, this awful. And how could she have even said that, about Eugenia? Taking the easy way out? Devorah¡¯s stomach rolled, uneasy. Welp. Guess she would just have to never find out what Eugenia knew, because Devorah was never talking to her again. Even if Eugenia wanted to, which Devorah doubted, Devorah herself was so humiliated that there were literally no words for it. She was lucky that she was incapable of eating- she would have lost anything in her stomach by this point. And Anna¡­ How could she face Anna like this? Like this strange, defective version of herself that couldn¡¯t keep her emotions under control? As much as Devorah didn¡¯t want to admit it, Eugenia was right- in these scant few days, she really had changed. But into what? Did it really matter? There was no going back now. But all of that faded away when another door opened and Anna stepped out. It didn¡¯t matter if she could or couldn¡¯t face Anna- she stood right before her, and no recognition crossed her beloved face as she looked left and right, as if checking for any interlopers. All Devorah could do was trail after her as she left her room. From behind, Devorah took in the way Anna was dressed. It was practical, more so than anything else Devorah had ever seen Anna choose for herself- work shoes, a loose-fitted top, and pants so baggy they could be mistaken for a long skirt. There were still touches of femininity, though, in her lightly applied make-up and the way the top flared out around her hips. They walked together for a bit, before Anna stopped in front of a room Devorah had never entered before. She reached into the side of pants, pulling out a small notebook and pen. The folds of the pants were plated so that Devorah hadn¡¯t even realized there were pockets, let alone any items that could have marred the silhouette of the look. Then Anna went inside. The doors from this room differed in style compared to those oak monstrosities that guarded the rooms of the house. Lovely cloisonne enamels were positioned to be seen just as one entered, and the wall was papered in a faded yellow. There was a vase with a scene of a woman in a kimono crossing over a bridge, while a man in hanfu waited on the other side. Lotuses flit about in the water as koi and cranes flew in the sky. Careful woodcuts in the ukiyo-e style were positioned on the wall. Chinese folding screens with dragons had been not-so artfully placed throughout the room. The symbolism was haphazard at best, and the authenticity even worse. But Devorah didn¡¯t have any time to devote to a further examination of Orientalism. There was another ghost in the room. He looked the same as he did since Devorah had seen him last, aside from a red rose tucked in his lapel. Odious and pale as ever, Henry mimed tipping a hat in Devorah¡¯s direction. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Had Devorah any blood in her fake body, she would have run cold at the sight of him. Oblivious, Anna began looking through the room, taking notes as she went along. Just as Devorah was dead and immaterial, so too was Henry. He couldn¡¯t hurt anyone any more. He couldn¡¯t hurt Anna like he had hurt Devorah. But still, Devorah could not bring herself to leave though her projected form practically vibrated with the call to run. ¡°What, Dev?¡± Henry said, stalking across the room towards Devorah. ¡°No kind words for your mirror?¡± Devorah took a deep breath. ¡°I have nothing more to say to you. Leave.¡± Devorah couldn¡¯t leave Anna, not when they just had their partial reunion. There was no way. Moreover, she couldn¡¯t leave Anna with Henry. Yes, Henry couldn¡¯t be alone with Anna. That was¡­ That was important. Even aside from the obvious. Why was that so¡­? Devorah pressed a hand to her forehead. She wanted to close her eyes and blot out the sudden rush of pain, but she couldn¡¯t. There was no world in which she could have been comfortable being vulnerable around Henry. ¡°That¡¯s no way to speak to someone you were so close to.¡± Henry finally reached Devorah and leered over her. Devorah wasn¡¯t a small woman, but even still, he towered over her. ¡°We shared a home together. Comrades, against a murderous game. And at the end, I even held your life in my hands. What could make two people closer than that?¡± ¡°Genuine affection,¡± Devorah answered. Henry touched a hand to his chest. ¡°What? I care for you, Devorah. How could I not? Even after you turned me down.¡± ¡°I¡¯m a lesbian, Henry.¡± There was a pause. ¡°So you only fuck women? You¡¯re missing out, Dev.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not about- Look. Even if I was into men, which I am not, what makes you think I would want to sleep with the man who murdered me?¡± Devorah spit out. ¡°There were extenuating circumstances,¡± Henry said. He reached out a hand, and wrapped a finger around one of Devorah¡¯s curls. He pulled. Devorah slapped his hand away. ¡°The murder game? You didn¡¯t have to hurt anyone. You didn¡¯t have to hurt me! You¡¯re a disgusting piece of shit, and I only wish that I had been around to see your skull get caved in.¡± Henry whistled out. ¡°Violent! No wonder someone wanted you dead.¡± Yeah, Henry certainly had- Hm. The phrasing. ¡°Someone? What do you mean?¡± He spread out his hands. ¡°You really haven¡¯t figured it out yet? I thought you were smarter than that, Dev. See, I was willing to kill- you or your little partner. And someone knew it. When the unicorn came to me with a message from someone outside the game, offering billions of dollars to kill you without getting caught, why, of course I jumped at the opportunity.¡± Who? Who wanted Devorah dead that badly? She couldn¡¯t think over her growing anger and the pounding of her head. But the rose, the rose in his lapel. That was important. Why was it important? And yet- ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± Devorah cried. ¡°Then why threaten Anna too?¡± Henry shrugged. ¡°Either I would kill you both, and have billions when I came out triumphant, or get just you, and still have billions.¡± His smarmy face fell for a moment. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have given you a choice. I should have forced you both into the maze, you little rats, the both of you.¡± Ah. ¡°Anna caught you, didn¡¯t she.¡± That wasn¡¯t even a question. Of course she had. She was the best investigator Devorah knew. And more than that, she had cared for Devorah. Even amidst the pain, anger and terror, Devorah still felt the smallest bit of warmth. Anna had avenged her. ¡°And you never got your billions. Instead you¡¯re stuck here. Just like me. Weak and powerless.¡± ¡°Not entirely.¡± Henry snarled. Henry manifested his hand and slammed it down on the hideous vase, smashing it. Activating a trap. Anna looked up from where she was bent over her notebook and swiveled her head towards the broken vase. ¡°No,¡± she breathed out. A portion of the wall across from Anna was opening up. Devorah didn¡¯t know what was going to happen, but there was only one thing she could do. Devorah screamed, running towards Anna, pulling as much energy as she possibly could into her body. Even if it was for only a second, just one second, that would be enough. It had to be enough. When arrows shot from the wall, whizzing faster than Devorah¡¯s eyes could even process, she prayed. And when they embedded themselves in her body, Devorah barely even felt any pain. Just pressure, pushing her back. Then onto the floor. She brought the arrows with her. It was enough. And for one second, one perfect second, her eyes met Anna¡¯s. Anna was looking back. ¡°Devorah?¡± Anna whispered, her eyes wide and bright with tears. Then Devorah was gone.