Fool me once. Shame on you.
Fool me twice. Shame on me.
Fool me thrice? Who shall you shame this time? What has brought you here into this? Two times can be a coincidence. Three times marks a pattern, and you have entered yourself into one by now.
Everyone remaining gathers into the firetruck, the sight of crimson flooding your vision, but this time, you know it's not because it's the exterior of the vehicle that's blasting that gaudy color at you.
No, it's the interior. Blood all over the ground, blotched and splattered everywhere, and truly the main attraction amidst it all sits upon his makeshift throne — a grey, cushiony seat.
Your event host is the most recently departed, and he is your first corpse to have his eyes open. He stares back at you, wide-eyed. Look too long, and you just may find yourself lost behind those olive green irises.
What did he see before he perished? Had he seen anything at all, or was he too a victim to the blanket of darkness that had shrouded over the theater?
Perhaps there was only one person who knew that besides him. After all...
One of you has killed Konan Gray Wallace.