The Killer asked Chatzy to choose between Cooper Addison, Rosamund Augustine, Jackson Bairn, Natalie Bronson, Adeline Carter, Esme Chastain, Jerome Dumont, Elisabeth Fehr, Liliana Fitz, Gregorie Fleming, Zacharie Granger, Liam Hayden, Riley Hennessy, Dalton Holiday, Felix Leclair, Delphine Marceau, Thomas Marceau, Kirby McAdams, Henri Olivier, Cecile Quay, Tristan Renner, Emmanuel Sargent, and Jacqueline Sylvian. Chatzy chose: Delphine Marceau
Delphine Marceau: Delphine had pulled Dalton's body into her, nearly holding his corpse in her lap as she sat on the cold ground. Tears were springing freely from her eyes now, streaking down her already bloodied face. She wasn't reliving her delusion anymore, but she wasn't entirely present either. Her gaze was set firmly on the wall across from her, at the bullet hole Dalton had caused when he'd nearly taken her head off with the gun she'd shoved into his hands. A hand absentmindedly stroked Dalton's hair, the motion calming in some obscene way. Delphine wasn't registering her surroundings. She wasn't stuck in the dark Hell she'd longed to escape the entire night. There was no dead boy in her lap, who's life she had played a part in taking. Suddenly her body shuddered, a chill creeping up her spine as she felt eyes boring into her. Slowly, she peeled her eyes away from the wall and looked around the darkness. Someone was there. Watching her.
The Killer: They'd been in wait for Dalton for nearly fifteen minutes before the boy, and some woman, had finally shown. Although, after what had unfolded before them they could hardly complain about the wait. They'd stood in the darkness for the whole ordeal, waiting ever so impatiently for something to happen. Delphine's appearance had kept Dalton from seeing what they'd brought him down here to find, but ultimately the French woman turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Giving an obviously mentally unstable child a gun? They'd been giddy with the possibilities that lay before them from the moment Dalton's hands clasped around the weapon. Ideally, Dalton would have killed this woman. Then, killed a few more of his friends. Before finally turning the weapon on himself. The thought of such a scenario had them grinning like a cat that had eaten the canary. But then.. Dalton had ruined it all. It frustrated them, that in some way Dalton didn't fulfill his purpose as their pawn. Still, the whole ordeal had been exciting enough that they were content in leaving the wasted opportunity in the past. Now, stepping out from the shadows...they clapped. There had already been one suicide tonight, could they add to that count?
Delphine Marceau: She saw their shadowy form begin to take shape, both as they stepped out of the darkness and as her tears began to stop. Delphine watched their hands. Clapping? Were they clapping? She didn't hear clapping--she didn't hear anything. Del swallowed hard, pulling her hand free from Dalton's bloody curls. Her gaze shifted from the stranger to the body in her lap, her eyes bulging as she began to register it all. There was a dead boy in her lap. She snapped her head back up when she heard the thunderous clapping, her hands quickly reaching up to her ears to cover them. "Please Stop. Please, why are you doing that." It was so loud? Why were they doing this? Delphine frowned, as she she tried to push Dalton off of her. She felt drained, but a small part of her hand enough strength left to convince her to leave this place: Now.
The Killer: After Dalton had shot himself, they'd watched this woman delve into some sort of mental episode. She'd been rocking Dalton's body to her chest for several minutes, sobbing and talking nonsense. It intrigued them, truly, so they'd let it play out. She'd grown silent after a while, and they'd begun to felt that they missed an opportunity to interact with her while she relived whatever experience she was recalling. "I'm applauding you. You deserve it, you did such a wonderful job." They assured her, speaking down to her as they walked forward. Whatever had happened to her, she seemed to be coming back from it. A shame, really. "I was watching, I saw it all- How you convinced that boy to kill himself. You were amazing." They offered a congratulatory smile.
Delphine Marceau: They'd been watching? They saw all this happen, and not once did they try to help? Delphine felt increasingly uncomfortable, her face grew hot as they spoke to her. "No--No I was trying to help." Her voice was firm, although her mind was anything but. "I was trying to stop him from hurting himself. I wanted him to hurt me, not himself." She repeated, a lone sob escaping her chest as she finally got Dalton's body off of her. They gun sat in his hands, right next to her own. She didn't want to use it, but something told her to take it. Something told her she was in more trouble than she had been at any point in the night. "You're sick. I didn't want him to do that." She raised her voice, her hands covering Dalton's and attempting to pry them off of the gun as the stranger walked closer. "Stop--Stop, go away!"
The Killer: They'd been watching Delphine's hands, knowing she would go for the gun at some point or another. As she began fidgeting with something near Dalton's body, they realized she was making her move. "I'm sick? I'M sick?" They asked, now distracted. They knew the gun was a threat, but Delphine's words had been too absurd not to comment on. "I'm a fucking murderer. But you know what? I can admit it: I am a filthy god damn monster." A hand aggressively pointed to the body between them. "But you killed this boy, and you won't even admit it." They let out a laugh, that sounded on the brink of hysteria. "That's sick." Charging forward, they closed the distance between them and pulled the gun from Delphine's grasp, knocking her back with a slap as they did so. "Don't look so fucking guilty. So you killed a few people; Join the club." They aimed the gun at her gut. "Such a disappointment." They muttered before pulling the trigger..... Their brow furrowed, as they looked down at the un-firing gun. They pulled the trigger several more times, getting nothing more than a click. Jammed? "Well.." They laughed. "This is awkward."
Delphine Marceau: It seemed the Catacombs were home to more than one mental break tonight. The person in front of her was absolutely batshit--Oh. With a cold realization, Delphine realized that this was the very state she herself was in an hour prior, raving start mad at Jace and Sylvia and threatening to take their lives for crimes they didn't commit. She'd killed two--now three--people, and now she was on the other side of the gun. Did the universe have a sense of irony? Or was fate just ironic like that? She had nothing more to say to their raving, more than a small part of her thankful it was all coming to an end. Delphine closed her eyes as they stood over her, her busted lip reopened by the smack they'd given her. At least Zach would be okay. He wouldn't know what awful things she'd done--just think that this lunatic was responsible for it all. She could live with that--or. Die with it, as it was. She heard the gun click several times, and as they gave an awkward laugh she opened her eyes to realize it had jammed. "Holy shit." The words escaped her mouth, and in an instant she was trying to push herself up to get out of there.
The Killer: As she stood to flee, they lashed out at her with the butt of the pistol. It may not shoot, but it wasn't entirely useless. They'd used their own weapon to do the very same to Amelia earlier, knocking out a few teeth. Looking down at Delphine, they tossed the gun to the side and instead pulled out a curved knife. Her back was turned to them, and they used the advantage to shove her face into the dirt floor. While she was powerless to stop them, they crawled on-top of her and held her firmly beneath them. "Stop MOVING." They screamed, grabbing a fist-full of her long hair and using it to pull her head up towards them. "I've got a PLAN, and if you RUIN it I will put this knife so deep into you they'll never even find it." She still fought against them, squirming and fidgeting and doing everything in her power to piss. them. off.
Delphine Marceau: Did she deserve death? More than likely. Did she deserve to suffer? Absolutely. But this?--did she deserve whatever nightmare this fucking maniac was hell-bent in making her live through? Delphine had a lot of self-loathing, but this was too much even for her. The pistol-whip had sent her reeling; her head was spinning and she felt several teeth loosen in her mouth. Her chest clenched in fear as she dug her nails into the ground in an attempt to scramble away from them. Before she made it very far, they'd slammed her head into the ground. Their hand kept her face-down on the ground, and she struggled to spit out the mouthful of dirt they'd given her. "You're a piece of shit." Her tone turned to ice. "What do you want, huh? What the fuck do you want from me?" Their taunts scared her; And unfortunately form them, nothing was more dangerous than a woman afraid. Delphine somehow managed to squirm enough to turn herself around, to at least partially face them. "Who am I to you? Your mommy? A sister? Who pissed you off so bad you're out here hurting strangers." She raised her voice. "Was it an ex? Did she leave you? Did she see what a piece of fucking trash you are finally?" Delphine spat at them, before lunging her head forward in an attempt at a headbutt. She'd hit them in the jaw--her head was fucking spinning at this point. She had to have a concussion.
The Killer: They'd let her squirm around to face them, now wanting to see the look on her eyes when she felt the knife go in. A look of perplextion appeared on their face, as she spoke of things she knew nothing about. "You. Are Nothing. To Me." The words were spoken slowly, each one given power as they looked down at her. They grimaced at her spit, about to retaliate when they noticed her head launching towards them. Her blow landed square on their jaw, and they had to sit up for a moment to deal with the pain. They opened and closed their jaw several times, reassuring themselves that it wasn't as bad as it had initially felt. As she lay there below them, her head aching from the several hits she'd taken they snapped their fingers above her face. "Hey. Look at me." They commanded, leaning in as she turned her face back to them. "You know who you are?" They took one of her arms, and yanked it above her head. They traced several marks along her forearm with their knife. "You're just some piece of shit druggie." They continued leaning into her, until their noses were inches apart. "You're nothing." As they spoke, they drove the knife into her stomach several times with exaggerated force. She wouldn't die, just yet. It would nullify her for their real plans.
Delphine Marceau: She hadn't wanted to do as they commanded her, but something in her gut told her it was better to just look as they said. Delphine gave them the coldest glare she could manage in this state, about to question them again before they pulled her arm above her head. She tried to pull away, feeling a sense of shame at what they were pointing out. "NON! I am better,, I--I'm more than tha--" She protested, her sentence interrupted by the pressure of cold metal slicing into her gut. She screamed, fidgeting violently as they stabbed her multiple times. She couldn't comprehend how each one felt more painful than the last--she wanted to die already. Pass out. Leave. God, all she'd wanted to do since this night began was just. L e a v e. They finally stopped, and Delphine began to feel the blood pool around her. What did internal bleeding feel like? Was it shock? Terror? Pain? Surely that was it, because Delphine felt each of those tenfold.
The Killer: "No. You are nothing." They corrected her, in a voice no more than a whisper as they pulled back from her face slightly. They held the knife in front of them, examining it. After a moment they reached down between them, using Delphine's shirt to wipe her blood off of the metal. They did this for several moments, humming absentmindedly as Delphine choked and sputtered on her blood below them. When they were satisfied with it's cleanliness, they leaned over her face once more and gently brushed a few speckles of blood off of the corner of Delphine's lips. They were cracked. Bloodied. It just wasn't what they had wanted. "You continue to disappoint." They muttered. This would be so much more satisfying if her lips had been beautiful. Smooth, and pink. Beggars couldn't be choosers, they supposed. Wiping at her teary eyes, they commented. "You've been so sad tonight. You face is stained with tears." They brought their knife to her face and held her lips parted with their fingers. "You should smile more. I bet you have a beautiful smile." They picked the humming back up, and set to work carving a happy smile on her sad, sad, sad face.
Delphine Marceau: Their words bore into her. She was defeated, and their taunts were finally weighing on her as heavily as their attacks. 'You are nothing.' It replayed over and over in her head as she sputtered up blood. She was nothing, they were right. The real Delphine, the one who'd never go down without a 'fuck you' was long-gone. She'd shriveled away earlier in the night, and would never be found again. As they wiped their knife on her shirt, her thoughts turned to the few people in this world she trusted. They would miss her, the old Delphine. The real Delphine. "I'll never smile for you." Delphine mumbled, their fingers already in her mouth. She tried to bite them, but they'd been expecting that and kept them out of her reach. As they began tearing away at her face, she did her best to drift off. Not be present. Tears sprung from her eyes, and she closed them. Their humming haunted her still, her mouth being torn wider and wider into a Glasgow smile. Maybe they would all forgive her once she was gone. Or, at least forget the terrible things she had done. She would be okay with being forgotten, if it meant that Zach wouldn't know the truth.
The Killer: They'd had to redo their lines several times. Deeper. Wider. Deeper. Wider. But finally....she smiled. They had to laugh at her final words; a threat that she couldn't even follow through on. They looked down at her, admiring their work...but something was off. It was complete. Ah- The eyes! It was the eyes. They thumbed her eyelids open, prying them apart so that she could stare out happily at the world as it passed her by. They sighed, still not entirely happy. It wasn't coming together properly. The smile didn't reach her eyes, even open as they were. She was smiling, but it was hollow. It wasn't real. Grunting, they stabbed their knife into the ground beside her head and released it. "Why won't you SMILE?" They asked, through gritted teeth. They stood, turning their back to her body. It was irritating to say the least, but she'd never been the perfect subject for this. They could do better, with someone else. They breathed deeply, calming them-self before pulling the knife out of the dirt and grabbing one of Delphine's arms. They looked at her, as they dragged her through the dirt. "You're nothing." They repeated in a whisper.
