'"Please," they repeated, but this time they weren't begging for their life.
Cooper Addison: Cooper leaned their head against the cool stone of the wall, but it was doing nothing to ease the heat that was taking over their entire body. Acid clawed at their throat, their heart felt like a weight, and the air around them didn't seem to have any oxygen in it. This was what it felt like to be face-to-face with death? It wasn't as though they were a stranger to the Grim Reaper. The Grim Reaper had seen Cooper when it came to pick up residents of hospitals Cooper volunteered at, it had followed them through the streets of impoverished countries, it had watched them cry the time it came for their mother, grazed the woman's cheek, and left before her heart could be stopped for too long. Death had always been in Cooper's life, but it had never been like this. It had always been encouraging, giving Cooper the will to live to their fullest. But after watching Mani die, death felt crippling. It felt as cold and empty as the tunnels they were stuck in. Cooper choked on tears, desperately begging themself not to look back at the body. But they couldn't just forget what happened--How unfair was that to that person's memory? Slowly, they looked back, and the sight was enough to send them to their knees. Cooper wiped at their face. They had to find Henley, or Jace, or Jackson, or anyone there was left to save. They had to tell Jackson that he was right. They had to tell someone that they had just been the cause of someone's death and that they weren't sure if they could live with themself. And, most of all, they were sure that they had to avoid the one who had convinced them to pull the prank in the first place. Cooper had always been a huge believer in trust, but they certainly wouldn't be finding it in the Catacombs anymore.
The Killer: Sending Cooper on their errand, they'd go about preparing the final touches for what would be the Coup De Grace of the night. They were nearly ready to end this all; it had been too large of a plan they now realized. They would pull it off in the end, of course, of that they had always been confident. But now they realized just how meticulous they had been forced to become. They'd picked up several pawns throughout the night, and yes they had more or less done their intended tasks. But pawns were, overall, unreliable. A partner was what they needed- if only their ego had allowed them to see it before the night began. Never the less, things were so close now. Only another hour or two and they would finally be rewarded for their own pain and suffering they'd endured. Once they had a moment to step away from their work, they'd set off to track down Cooper and Mani, knowing that any second now Cooper's moronic ideals of trust and the general goodness of people would be broken in ways it could never be fully repaired. "Oh stop your crying." They commanded in a condescending tone, seeing Cooper ahead of them. They'd missed it, and they were honestly a bit disappointed. "It's pathetic; Pull yourself together."
Cooper Addison: The voice that reached their ears was familiar, but now it sounded different. Now, it sounded more sinister. Had that tinge of heartlessness always resided in their voice? Cooper hadn't realized. How had they not realized? They didn't bother to look up at the person they had trusted only a few minutes ago. Instead, they stared at their hands. They felt too guilt-ridden to even tremble. "You--" Cooper's voice hitched in their throat, and they wiped at their face before continuing with more volume, "did this? On purpose? What kind of monster are you?"
The Killer: They rolled their eyes at Cooper's accusations, it was hardly the first time they'd heard the words. Even before tonight, such things had been said. Of course, they'd generally been in hushed tones, and only on the rare occasion to their face. People were never brave enough to confront them. They cleared the distance between them and Cooper, until they were only several feet away. Ignoring Cooper, they instead looked towards Mani's body. It was covered in blood, and once again they felt a pang of disappointment they hadn't been present. The wire had been, in their opinion, one of the cleverest tricks they'd had up their sleeve for the night. "Yes Cooper, on purpose. I think that's quite obvious at this point." Why were they always so slow on the uptake? "I'm the kind of monster that's capable of committing mass murder, and getting away with it." They sneered, a sick glint in their eyes. "Get up. Don't make me drag you away from here, because you know I will. Come on, we have business to attend to."
Cooper Addison: Finally, they dared to look up at them. The sight of the person's face made them feel even more sick than they had before. How did they look so different now? How was Cooper only just realizing the sinister quality to their features? "Get away with it? No way. You aren't hurting anyone else. I won't let you touch my friends!" Cooper's voice grew more courageous and convincing the more they spoke. All their life, they'd been schooled in the goodness of others. Their mother had always told them that anyone- even villains- could be saved. Anyone could be good. But, now, slumped in front of the shadowy figure, there didn't seem to be any sense of light in the general vicinity. Cooper had always used their words, their beliefs, their hope to get through to people, but it didn't take long for them to realize that they couldn't get through to a murderer like this. There was no point trying to save them, no point in instilling mercy or philosophy on the person before them. "I'm not doing anything for you. Not anymore." Again, it occurred to them that the body behind them was only there because of their stupidity and trust. Twenty years and still so naive? Cooper felt a pang-- no, a gaping hole-- of guilt. They didn't want to have the power to take lives away. They didn't want to be a god. That was the last thing they wanted. Murder definitely wasn't something they'd agree to. Still, they couldn't move. They knew they should; fighting back would give them the best chance at survival. They thought of Mani again. If this person was going to kill them, they'd rather they do it now than use them to kill anybody else.
The Killer: Of course Cooper was going to suddenly find the strength to resist a charming smile. It had been their intention to shatter their naive views of the world, so at the very least they were pleased to see that much had worked. Cooper was stewing in their guilt, and if they had the time to let things play out they would gladly let it. Instead, they were rather in quite a rush. "Found your voice finally, did you? It only took, what? Twenty-something years?" They let out a small laugh aimed at Cooper's childish views of the world, before stepping towards them and grabbing their arm. Their fingers gripped with a force that would leave bruises, holding Cooper in a death-grip as they roughly pulled them from the ground and all but dragged them in the direction they wanted to go. "Doesn't really matter, voice or not. Down here, only the dead will hear your screams." One hand on Cooper's bicep, the other dug into their pocket for a knife. They pulled it out, flipping the pocketknife open to reveal the blade, before swinging it around to hold up to Cooper's throat. Their bodies were pushed tightly together now, so that they could hold the blade just inches away from Cooper's throat. "If you fight me, I will slash your fucking jugular. You die here, or you keep moving, without incident. It doesn't really fucking matter to me which one you choose." They informed Cooper, their mouth so close to their ear Cooper could no doubt feel their hot breath.
Cooper Addison: When they were younger, Cooper would carry a pocket knife with them on their travels. They had never used it, even in situations they should have pulled a knife on someone. After moving to Virginia, they were sure their safety was ensured. Even here, in Paris, they hadn't even thought to carry a pocket knife. Even if they did have one, they knew they wouldn't have the courage to use it. They knew the person with the vice grip knew that, too; that was the scary part. Out of instinct, they started wriggling the moment they were touched. No sound escaped their lips, but the pain was enough to slow them down after a mere moment. At the sight of the knife, Cooper was unmoving. Part of them wanted to tell them to just get it over with, slash their throat, but then their mind wandered to their mother. Their beautiful, innocent, pure soul of a mother. How could they opt out so quickly? They were needed by the most important person in their life. So, instead of whispering a desperate plea, they spoke through their teeth, "I'm not afraid of you." And they weren't, really. They weren't afraid of death, because they had always felt as though they would die young. It had never felt like an end to them. They weren't afraid of dying, but they were afraid of leaving their mother. They were afraid of not being able to save their friends. They were afraid of someone so evil getting their way.
The Killer: Cooper's words meant little to them. They may not be afraid of the person before them now, but that would change the moment Cooper realized what the terrible things they were capable of doing- the terrible things they had already done. "You don't have to be." They said in a near whisper, before adding, "I don't need your fear: I can use your anger. Your guilt." Any emotion, should it be strong enough, could be manipulated. They'd learned that at an early age, and had clung on to throughout their life. They pushed Cooper forward, the knife compelling them not to resist. Fear was irrelevant. Instinct, the need to survive, would ensure that Cooper did as they said at least until Cooper realized there was no way out of this. They needed motivation. Well, not them specifically. The odd assortment of people who would soon be in the church searching for missing friends were the ones in need of motivation, and from what they had picked up during the night Cooper was just the idealistic idiot that would do the job. They continued urging Cooper forward, towards The Room where they had spent so much time prior in the night. Elisabeth was long gone, awake but for the moment unaware of what had actually occurred to her friend. It was oddly convenient.
Cooper Addison: Cooper knew they were giving the monster exactly the reaction they wanted. Their stomach jolted again, threatening to spill its contents. They swallowed hard. That reaction would only give the killer more satisfaction. They wondered, briefly, how long they'd been going about things. Was Mani their only victim? It didn't seem likely. The moment was so manufactured. How much practice had they had before it? At the thought, Cooper nearly tripped over their dragging feet, the knife threatening to break through their skin. They clenched their teeth together. Thinking about the possibility that their friends were more than just lost wasn't going to do them any good. Optimism had always worked more in their favor. As they moved with the person behind them, they closed their eyes gently. This won't last forever, they reminded themself, this isn't the end of the world. When they opened their eyes again, their surroundings had changed completely. Now, they were in a room that dripped with death and grief. They can kill you, they thought, but they can't kill your soul. It was hardly comforting. "Why do you do this? Who turned you into such a monster? What broke you so badly that this seemed like the only answer?" Their interest was genuine.
The Killer: They pulled their arm away from Cooper's neck as they entered the room, their foot lifting from the ground to kick them in the back and send them further into the dark room. They paused by the light switch, flipping it on before throwing the heavy door shut behind them. With Cooper in front of them, trying to steady themselves after the kick they'd been issues, they pulled out their phone and checked the battery. It would be more than slightly awkward for their plans to be foiled by a dead cell phone. "I'm hardly broken." They countered, their tone barely hiding the bitter edge. "You wouldn't begin to understand my reasons, even if I wasted all night telling you." Placing their phone on the counter, they pointed with their knife to the chair they had killed Amelia and Seth in. It was clean now, no evidence of what had become of the other two. "Sit." They commanded sharply.
Cooper Addison: Breathlessly, Cooper stumbled forward. The force had stolen what little breath they had left, and it took everything in their power not to pant heavily to make themself feel less dizzy. They nearly fell to the ground, but instead caught themself, their fingers grazing the ground. "I see right through you," they spat, standing up straight. No one this evil could be evil from birth. There was always a catalyst. There was always a reason, a mental illness set off by dominoes of hatred and tragedy. If they could have one last wish granted, one last question answered before they died, it would be to know why. They would hate to be in this monster's head, but they couldn't fight their curiosity. Their entire life had been a journey for knowledge; they hoped their death gave them a piece of what they'd been searching for. But maybe things didn't always work out like that. Maybe it was just their naivety at work once again. At their demand, Cooper simply stared at the chair next to them. They felt its darkness, its bad energy. They knew sitting would be admitting defeat, and they imagined how disappointed their mother would be if they simply followed orders. Not just their mother, but everyone who had ever thought that Cooper was more than just a person. Surely everyone expected them to be valiant and non-compliant in a situation like this. Surely that's what people who were more than people did. Cooper frowned, then sat in the chair. They were not more than a person. Sometimes they forgot that. "Who...Who else--" They immediately regretted the words that pushed their way out of their lips, so much so that they couldn't finish the question. Curiosity had gotten the better of them once again.
The Killer: Their eyes were trained on Cooper, watching wit curiosity as they seemed to have some grand internal debate. For a moment, Cooper appeared to be contemplating a way to fight back. A way to piss them off, to prove that they were not the same as every other lifeless corpse down here tonight. Instead, and perhaps a slight part of them was let down with this decision, Cooper did as they were commanded and sat down in the chair, obviously defeated. They sighed, for once out of disappointment of lost potential rather than any other mundane annoyance they'd suffered tonight. For a fleeting moment, they thought the person before them was about to stand their ground. Refuse. Passive resistance. Out of any of the attempts that had been made to stand up to them tonight, that was by far their most hated. Jerome had been set in his ways, but even at some point he had lost his calm facade. He'd screamed. Cried. Silence, was the most deafening sound. They wanted to hear it just as much as they wanted to avoid it. "Who else? Who else have I killed?" They asked, coming up behind Cooper and beginning to fasten them down with the chair straps. They'd become quite good at that. "God, you're going to have to be more specific. In general? Just tonight? Here, in this room?"
Cooper Addison: As the straps tightened around them, their muscles stiffened. They'd always valued freedom, mobility; they hated staying in one place. This made the contact of the leather feel like a jail cell, and Cooper's immediate instinct was to thrash about. But for what? What would that accomplish? Maybe it would make the monster laugh. They'd definitely get a kick out of it. That wasn't what Cooper wanted. They fought the urge to fight the restraints, and eventually allowed their hands to go limp. "I don't want to know," Cooper lied, "I don't want to hear about your sick feats."
The Killer: Cooper seemed oddly resigned to what was happening to them, they noted as they continued to tighten the leather straps. Cooper's words, spoken with little confidence, caused them to laugh. "You do. Or you wouldn't have brought it up in the first place." They commented, matter of factly as they moved from one limb to the next. They were down at Cooper's feet now, easily getting their work done in a matter of seconds with no resistance being given. "Hm. Alright. Let me do a head count." Their fingers finished the last strap, and they stepped away from Cooper to pull a small rolling stool towards them, like one you would find at a doctor's office. They sat down, rolling themselves next to Cooper with a look of contemplation on their face. "...Twelve. No-, No it was thirteen. All tonight. Before then,...well. I don't suppose that's really relevant." They gave Cooper a coy wink, their feet pulling their chair to the side for a moment as they fooled around. "In this room, there have been only two. Both in that chair you're sitting in. You knew both of them, I believe." They clicked their tongue. "What were their names... " They knew, of course, but pretended to be searching. "Angelica? An..Annie? It started with an A." They assured Cooper, before giving up and moving on. "The other one, Seth I think his name was."
Cooper Addison: It occurred to them that a simple raise of the leg would be enough to knock the monster to the ground. A simple kick when they were on their knees and strapping in Cooper's legs would give them enough time to do something. Surely something was better than nothing. But it didn't take long for Cooper to conclude that they wouldn't be able to get very far, especially when they were frozen in suspense as the monster trailed off. The killer stood before Cooper could really think about acting on the thought, and their breath caught in their throat as they watched them settle into the chair. Thirteen. The number was heavy on Cooper's chest. They imagined thirteen people, lives and minds just as full as their own, going too early because of one person trying to play god. Their lip trembled. Thirteen was a heavy number, but it was just a number. The names were what really left Cooper struck. Angelica...Annie...A-Amelia. Their roommate. Amelia. Their friend. Amelia. The gamer. Seth. The athlete. Their classmate. The person with so much potential. Cooper didn't realize they were crying until they felt the wetness on their face, and even then they didn't make any trace of a whimper. "No one can kill and get away with it. Even if no one ever catches you, even if the law can't hurt you, the universe will."
The Killer: Tears sprung from Coopers' face, slowly. Silently. A small sense of victory flowered within them. Whether the tears were shed out of fear, or for the loss of what they may have considered friends, it was all the same to them. They had done this. They had caused Cooper this pain, and that counted as a win to them. Pretty fucked up, right? They'd always gained a sadistic satisfaction from hurting others. Initially it had just been emotionally, but it didn't take long to turn physical. People were so fragile, after-all. They broke so easily. "Are you sure about that? Because the last I checked, I was clear on my way to walking out of here with exactly what I wanted. You're all to busy convincing yourself something like this isn't possibly, you're too fucking stupid to see when you walk right into a trap." After a moment, they rolled closer to Cooper again. Quietly, they hovered a hand over their face. With their thumb, they softly brushed the tears away from Cooper's face. "Crying. Such a waste of good suffering." They teased, sadistically. "Tell me, do you believe in evil? I killed a man, I don't know. Twenty minutes ago or so. The whole time he just kept praying, saying all this...nonsense." Their last comment was spoken in an almost far away tone, Jerome's insistence on hoping someone would pray for them still causing something within them to stir with anger.
Cooper Addison: The trails of heat their thumb left felt like fire. Cooper could feel their face flood with heat, but they weren't exactly sure what the heat meant. Were they angry? Ashamed? All of their emotions were tangled together in a large mess, unable to be unraveled. Their words resonated with them. For someone so monstrous, they weren't unintelligent. They had their own philosophies, beliefs. They were probably in their own head as much as Cooper was. They felt a pang in their chest. Were they trying to find similarities between themself and a killer? Were they that desperate to find the good in everyone? In truth, they didn't know the answer to the question. They didn't know if they believed in evil. Before, they probably would've said no. Evil existed in acts, but not people...or so they thought. They had never been this close. Then they were thinking of the man, clinging to his beliefs in his last moments. Cooper wished they were that brave. They had hardly been touched, and already they were questioning the morals they had held. Good and evil. Nothing seemed that simple anymore. "What do you believe in?" Their tears had stopped, and now they pursed their lips as they studied the figure before them.
The Killer: "I believe in human nature." You could practically hear the eye-roll in their voice, the condescension dripping from their words as they pushed them self away from Cooper and stood. Walking away from Cooper, they pulled open a drawer filled with various tools. Hammers, screwdrivers. Pliers. They pulled out the latter, closing the drawer with their hip before opening another and pulling out a pair of latex gloves. More so for to avoid the discomfort of sticking their hands into someones wet mouth than anything to do with Cooper's sake, they put on the gloves and sat back in their stool. Reaching out, their fingers touched the edge of the rolling tray they'd used earlier in the night, and pulled it towards them. They sat their hands in their lap, the pliers still in their grasp as they looked down at Cooper. "I believe that people are inherently stupid enough to beg for the life of their loved ones, rather than save their own skin. People are idiots. They think if they die in some act of 'great benevolence' they'll end up as some godly martyr. They don't really give a shit about the other person. They choose to die, for their own selfish reasons. They think that their sacrifice will make up for whatever shitty things they did when they were alive." But it didn't. Dying was easy. Cowards died. The rest fought to live.
Cooper Addison: The monster talked like they knew the world, but Cooper wasn't sure how their cynicism could be so endless. Self-sacrifice was always brave. Everyone Cooper had ever loved had sacrificed something for them, and they would take a bullet for any of them without a second thought. That was what love was. That was why people died for others. Cooper was sure the monster didn't understand. They'd probably never been showed much love; they probably didn't have a sliver of it in their being. Was it possible for a murderer to care about anyone? These inquiries distracted Cooper from the tools the monster was examining, the pliers they returned with. The second they were finally present again, the second they saw the look on the monster's face, they tensed. Again, they considered fighting back. Cooper had always thought they'd fight in a situation like this. After all, they had a lot to fight for. Their life was full, and a lot of people were counting on them. They couldn't go so soon; they hadn't saved enough people. Still, the thought of dying scared them so little that it was almost frightening. Cooper loved life. Cooper had never wanted to die. Why could they only think about good and evil, and if their friends would survive the night? Why couldn't they fear for their own life? "Are you happy?" Cooper asked meekly, eyeing the pliers. They were sure there was nothing left to do. Their death was inevitable, and the least they could do was make sure they weren't used to hurt anyone else. At least they were going before that could happen. Cooper thought back to Mani. A casualty due to Cooper's existence. They winced at the thought. The last thing they wanted to do was to hurt anyone. At least they were going before they could do that. "What do you get from this? Killing doesn't help anyone."
The Killer: They toyed with the pliers in their hands, opening and closing the tool as they listened to Cooper's inquiries. Briefly they wondered if this was truly what Cooper wanted to spend their last few moments talking about, it was another subject f human nature that they struggled to understand. Cooper would die, here by their hands. That much was painfully obvious, they were sure. Instead of using Cooper's final words to find some sort of comfort for them-self, taunt their tormentor or turn their thoughts to loved ones... Cooper chose to try and understand their nature. But perhaps...in seeking out this information, they were finding comfort. Maybe Cooper thought if they could just grasp why things were happening as they were, they could die with some semblance of peace. ...They didn't want peace. They didn't want comfort. And they would allow Cooper neither. "Sometimes." They replied to Cooper's first question in a vague manner, although they knew the question had been more so about the events of the night. Leaning forward, they propped them-self up with their elbows next to Cooper's arm, looking at them. "I get what I want. I get my life back; I get....everything I should have had in the first place." Their comments, while vague, were spoken with a distinctive bitterness. Finally they lifted their head back up and reached into Cooper's mouth, showing the pliers in before Cooper had much time to react. The tool gripped tightly onto one of Cooper's front teeth, and they held it there for a moment while maintaining eye contact. "I think that's all anyone wants in life, don't you? Everyone just wants what they're owed. And eventually, someone has to pay the devil." They yanked the tool sharply, tugging and tugging, and tugging until finally the tooth gave way and they were able to extract it from Cooper's bloody mouth.
Cooper Addison: The conversation was exhausting, even with the short answers Cooper was receiving. They didn't know what they wanted out of it, but stalling made the knot in their stomach feel less tight. When the pliers were in their mouth, everything felt even more real than it had before. The pliers themselves tasted of copper, metallic, like blood was in their mouth even before any of the pain had started. Cooper felt compelled to cry again, tears biting at the back of their eyes. They knew the monster loved their weakness. They knew all they wanted was a reaction. I can't give them that, they thought, I can't react. But the look in the monster's eyes made it nearly impossible to stay stoic. The eye contact was like looking into a deep well, an empty darkness that could produce an echo. The hair on their arms and the back of their neck raised, and their hands started to shake. The look in the monster's eyes was impossible to argue. This was the end. Cooper feared for their friends, longing to warn them. But would they be heard if they tried? As the monster forced their tooth out, Cooper merely squeezed their eyes shut to resist the pain. Staying silent was eerily easy, but it went against most of what they'd been taught throughout their life. They had always believed in speaking up, in taking a stand, in saving their friends. Was staying silent making them a hypocrite? When blood flooded their mouth, Cooper made the last minute decision to stop being so quiet. They forced all the air from their lungs into their throat, belting out a scream that worked its way around the monster's hand. Pain settled into every crevice of Cooper's mouth, but that wasn't why they were screeching. They were making a noise in hopes that someone- anyone- would hear them. Of course, they didn't expect to be saved, but they hoped someone else could be saved. Blood streamed down their chin and onto their shirt, a small fountain of suffering. Eyes still shut, Cooper screamed until their face was red and they heard their own echoes. Surely at least one person would hear, and know to get out, and escape their death.
The Killer: Cooper had never been anything more than a pawn to them. Killing Mani was merely the first act, in Cooper's grand play of puppetry. Here and now, they probably thought it was all over- that they were no longer being used in some sick game. But that couldn't be further from the truth; they still had a purpose. They still had a use. Cooper's death would be nothing more than another move being made, and that may be the cruelest thing of all. They were going to make a film, and Cooper would be their star. Their gazed turned to the counter to where they had left their phone, eyes lingering a moment before a quick shake of the head brought their attention back to Cooper. No, Cooper wasn't ready yet. They were hardly fit to be on screen. They needed to look broken. Hopeless. Defeated. Of course, blood was always a nice shock factor. Maybe once Cooper was missing a few more teeth...among other appendages. They dropped Cooper's bloody tooth onto the tray, and used their gloved hand to wipe the blood off of the pliers before shoving them right back into Cooper's mouth. They grabbed onto to several teeth, each time moving further and further into Cooper's moue to tease them. Finally they selected a molar. It would be hell for Cooper to endure the oncoming pain, and that was understatement. They began wiggling their toll around, loosing the tooth and continually yanking it forward until it gradually gave. As they pulled it free, they gave a slight sound of disgust. They'd always hated dentists.
Cooper Addison: Cooper was no stranger to pain. They were often getting hurt: bumps, scrapes, bruises...tons of scars covered their skin and were memories from their adventures. Pain had always been easy for them to endure, especially with the knowledge that it would make a good story afterward. But they didn't know if they would ever be able to tell this story, and their pain had never been purposely inflicted on them. Not like this. After a few more teeth were gone, the pain was throbbing and impossible to ignore. Their scream turned into a gargle as blood filled their throat. Cooper gagged on scarlet, eventually using the muscles in their throat and their tongue to rid their mouth of the river of blood. Again, warmth spilled over their chin and onto their shirt. They'd gone silent again, feeling even more defeated than before. Tears fell from their eyes as the monster went for a molar, and they looked up at the ceiling, trying to focus on anything but the pain. They studied the ceiling, the spots where it dipped down, the parts where it looked a bit wet, the darkness and eeriness of the stone. But their attention immediately shifted from it as pain shot through their skull, causing their breath to sink to the bottom of their lungs and refuse to aid them. They made muffled sounds of pain, but couldn't project much more than that. Any noise they made hurt their mouth. By now, their face had flooded itself of all color, and was nothing but stark white. They weren't dead yet, but they already looked and felt like a ghost.
The Killer: Cooper looked like shit. That was no petty comment on their appearance- while they had looked a bit roguish, they hadn't been unattractive. Now however their face was covered in blood and slobber, discolored from the torture they'd been subjected to. For once, they felt pity for their victim. No- that wasn't correct. They pitted Cooper, but they felt no pity for them. The person before them was a undignified mess, and any attempt to act otherwise was just sad. Cooper could play the quiet game as much as they liked, they were no where near as calm as their facade would have one believe. They dropped the pliers in the tray, looking over the collection of teeth they'd acquired. Probably best not to keep them, they reminded their self. Picking up a piece of gaze, they held it in their hands staring at the mess of blood and spit on Cooper's chin. It would be easy to reach out, wipe it away. Give them a bit of dignity back. Instead they dropped the gauze back on the tray, peeling off their bloody gloves as well before walking over to retrieve their phone for the rest of the play. Their decision to remove Cooper's teeth had not only been sadistic- it had been strategic. Cooper would be unable to give hints as to their identity, ensuring that once they sent it to everyone else they wouldn't be able to be attached to it. Turning on the camera, they posed the phone on the tray next to them, checking several times to make sure they angle was correct. "Smile, Cooper. You're on camera."
Cooper Addison: Cooper supposed they were meant to feel some shred of relief as the torture ended, as the monster moved away from them. Instead, they only became more terrified. At this point, they weren't even sure what they were scared of. Maybe it was just human nature to be terrified; maybe it was just instinct. When they lowered their eyes from the ceiling and again looked at the monster, they felt more sick than ever. They were sure vomit would join the mess on their face, the cocktail of tears and spit and blood and snot. The feeling lingered, but didn't resolve itself with vomit. Once again, Cooper screamed, but stopped when they realized it was exactly what the monster wanted. They wanted Cooper to give a show, probably for their own amusement, but it was hard to tell what their real motives were. The questions burned inside of them. What did they expect out of this? What were they going to do next? Who was after Cooper? Had they taken the lives of their best friends? Oh, god. The color returned to Cooper's face at the thought. It was fiery and red, angry at the thought of Jace and Henley being taken by such a selfish monster. As blood continued to exit from the wounds in their mouth, Cooper thought of things to say, contemplated what question they wanted to ask first. They tried to ignore the camera, but it was hard when its presence made them feel so...humiliated. After a moment, Cooper resorted to blatant begging, and opened their mouth to say, "Please don't hurt anyone else; I'll do anything." But the words were impossible to make out, because Cooper's mouth was swollen and aching and full of blood. Cooper heard how pathetic they sounded- it was impossible not to. They sounded like a dying animal, a real pity case. In all their life, Cooper had never felt so pathetic. They were sure the monster was eating this up: a pathetic human being pathetically trying to make it through the end of their existence. Eventually, Cooper simply dipped their head down, hiding their face from view. Somehow, the monster had managed to make them feel ashamed, like they had done something wrong and were really a laughing stock. They wished for the world to go black, for everything to stop in its tracks and just end in that very moment. They had never found themself wishing anything like that in their life. They really were pathetic.
The Killer: In all their daydreaming, they could never have pictured a more perfect scenario to play out for the camera. Cooper was a natural; they had needed no script, no goading. The words had been garbled and hard to fully understand, but there was enough to piece together the meaning. Cooper was begging. Like a child. They opened their mouth to comment, but thought better of it with the video being captured. Instead, they picked up the pliers once more. With their right hand, they gingerly picked up Cooper's left. It was still strapped in, but they held it in their own feeling the warmth. Cooper was very warm. Very alive, under all the collective calm they'd been trying to maintain. They too knew about hiding a warmth within; an anger that was deemed unsuitable. Unhuman. They'd been taught to conceal it within them-self, only letting it slip behind closed doors. They stroked Cooper's fingers for a few moments, wondering once more where Cooper's head was. Finally, they stopped the soothing movement and suddenly pulled a fingernail from Cooper's nail bed. They felt Cooper's shock.
Cooper Addison: Cooper's entire body shook even before their fingernail was ripped off, but the pain caused violent tremors to rip through them. "Please-" They cried, looking up at the ceiling again. Their mind wandered to the last time they'd seen their mother. She had been smiling, wrapping her arms around her child just before they left for Paris. She had been proud. Cooper watched as the memory turned dark, as their mother's smile fell and her face aged within seconds. They watched tears stream down their mother's cheeks. They weren't sure their mother would ever even know they had died, but they knew she would feel this same sort of pain after realizing her child was never returning. No, Cooper's mind screamed, you can't leave her. Though the pain was nearly immobilizing, Cooper gathered together their energy enough to sit up straighter, lean their head forward, and launch the concoction of blood and spit into the monster's face. They spat into his eyes and, finally, tested the restraints around their wrists and ankles. Maybe they were weak; maybe there was a chance at escaping. They wriggled their fingers in some meek attempt to grab the pliers, or to do anything at all. They realized soon enough that it was a bit too late for a reaction.
The Killer: The camera had been focused on Cooper's face. Cooper's terror. Cooper's pain. All of that was far more likely to move someone to action than a video of Cooper being sawed in half, or dismembered. I wasn't the gore that drew them in, it was the need to see what could be so utterly inhuman; to see what someone could be so downright terrified of. It was curiosity. Suddenly, Cooper lunged forward and spat a mouthful of blood and slime into their face. They groaned, a hand coming to wipe their face and the other lashing out in a blind backhand to Cooper's cheek. As they removed the bodily fluids from their face they felt their hand connect with Cooper, and were at least pleased to know that they'd struck them. Standing, they looked down at Cooper with a look of pure malice. Breathing heavily, they smacked the medical tray sending it flying across the room. Their phone and the surgical tools clattered to the floor as they left Cooper's side and began wildly throwing cabinets open in search of something."You tire me. You're pathetic, and covered in snot, and you wont even die with a shred of dignity." They muttered to Cooper, finally finding the object they'd been searching for and turning back to them. They revealed a power drill, pulling the trigger so that the drill-bit came to life for a moment in their hands. "So many questions...I think your head is about filled to the brim." They walked forward, joining Cooper's side once more. "I think we need to make a little room in that head of yours."
Cooper Addison: The pain in Cooper's mouth was unbearable as the monster's hand connected with it. They let out a muffled, weak groan. Once again, their neck fell limp, head dangling in front of them as gravity pulled at it. They didn't have the strength for this anymore. They realized that, all their life, they had felt a bit invincible. All their life, they had lived so hard that they didn't mind the thought of dying, and that made them feel unbreakable. It felt so typical: people always felt unbreakable until they were broken. Cooper felt more than broken. They were shattered, they were smashed down to nothing but dust. The shame bore down on them like a mallet. How were they so naive? How had they trusted this person? Their death was their own fault. Mani's death was their fault. How could Cooper spend their entire life trying to think deeply, trying to find answers, but not see the evil in a monster? They felt so stupid, so pathetic. When the monster called them pathetic, they agreed with him. They actually agreed with a monster. The sight of the drill was almost a relief. Sad as it was, seeing their way out lifted a bit of the weight in their chest. The vision of their mother had disappeared, the thought of saving their loved ones was gone. They just wanted to feel less pathetic and in pain. They couldn't bear the evil that was surrounding them, and they knew that all of their dignity was gone, just as the monster had said. "Please," they repeated, but this time they weren't begging for their life.
The Killer: Moving behind Cooper, they stood at Cooper's head. Since seeing Cooper, they'd wanted to reach out and brush the fiery blue hair that sat atop their head and now finally they got the chance. Humming, they lifted their free hand to Cooper's head and hovered it above their hair for several moments before finally lowering it into the wild blue mess. Their fingers played with the short strands for what must have felt to Cooper like an eternity, their rhythmic humming filling the room along with both of their breathing. Then- another noise joined in. Their hand stiffened, fingers now holding Cooper's skull in place as they lifted the power drill's long bit spinning wildly as it inched it's way closer to their head. Their tongue slipped out of their mouth, wetting their lips as the drill spun past hair and began drilling its way into Cooper's skin. There was little resistance, but a faint burning smell began to emit as the drill went further and further into Cooper's head, drilling into their skull.
Cooper Addison: Cooper had always liked people playing with their hair. Their mother, their significant others, Jace...There had always been something calming about it. Now, the fingers in their hair felt like poison, like they were burning at their scalp. There was nothing calming about this touch. Cooper almost told them to hurry up, to stop with the unimportant things and end their life already. Cooper was sure a lot of people would be surprised to see them like this: so pathetic that they longed for death. They were even a bit surprised, somewhere within the knot of emotions that lingered in their gut. They were surprised that their optimism had shattered so quickly, that they weren't even strong enough to fight back in such a dire situation. They'd always thought a bit hire of themself. That was probably another side effect of their naivety. Slowly, calmly, Cooper closed their eyes. They heard the sound of the drill and slowed their breathing down. They felt their heartbeat for the last time. It was pounding, but it was slow. Several seconds passed between each beat, almost giving the illusion that Cooper's heart was calm, but then it would thump against their chest with all the force and passion it had collected over its twenty years. It hammered so hard that it hurt, and Cooper reveled in this feeling one last time before they were gone. When the drill pushed into their head, tendrils of pain shot through every nerve in Cooper's body. Instinctively, they let out a scream, but it was cut short. Like their life, the scream ended abruptly, without much notice, and without much strength. The last thought to cross their mind was their mother, and the hope that they would meet her again someday. And then their heart stopped pounding.