The beep of the intercom pierced through everyone's rooms. Room 2 startled awake. Isla rolled over in bed to check the time and groaned. 4:00 A.M. Stacey had told them to listen out for a late announcement, but she hadn't expected it to be THIS late. "Hello?" Stacey's voice echoed through the room, a bit of static making her voice fuzzy. "I-is this on? Hello?" There was a banging sound, and the static left. "Yes, much better," Stacey's voice rang out crisp and clear, but it sounded weak. "I'd say I'm sorry to wake you all, but im not. Anyway-" Stacey broke into a coughing fit. "Isla, I need you in the front room. Now." That got Isla awake. She sat up in bet, eyes darting around the room. No guards came and grabbed her. She slowly stood and slipped into shoes. Her roommates eyed her suspiciously. *She trembled in fear. Shots of fear, racing death through her spine. She knew she shouldn't... but she had no choice! Confused and scared, she reached for the pistol hidden underneath her stack of clothing. Reluctantly, She stepped out into the hall and fired at random, not knowing where the shots would lead... or who they would reach.* She only had one bullet left. She saved it, but held the pistol out in front of her as she slowly walked down the hallway, towards the main room. She was going to end this. As she approached the main room, she passed a body, slumped onto the floor. Edmond. He must have been waiting for her, and instead met her bullet. She studied him, a mix of triumph and fear and shame all at once. He was still breathing, but barely. Isla stepped over him and continued, looking out for Stacey. She had to be around here somewhere. Then she saw her. She was standing atop of the stairs, just like she had on that first day, lurking in the shadows at her own party. "You called this meeting," Isla said, pointing her pistol at the figure. "The least you can do is come down." "I would if you dropped the gun." Stacey said. "Not a chance," Isla kept the gun trained on Stacey, trying to steady her shaky hands. "Then no." Stacey crossed her arms stubbornly. "Fine," Isla took a step towards the front door while keeping the gun aimed at Stacey. "Then I'm leaving." "No, you're not. Alive." Stacey clapped, and five guards appeared around Isla. "But you can leave dead." "I'm not the one about to die," Isla said, shaking so hard it hurt. Then she pulled the trigger.
*the part with the * is the part that was written mostly by Isla (I chatted with her beforehand) But i did change up some of it. Here's the original: she trembled in utter fear. shots of fear, racing death through her spine. she knew she couldn't... however there was no choice. confused and scared, she clutched onto the p¡stol and fired it reluctantly , no clue where the bullets would lead.
