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DarkCloud
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of Lists
Jul 2000
time: 05:37
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sorry for the delay- placing the clue(s) was very delicate this round... very delicate.
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Chapter 5: The Election Results
“The election results are in Sir, and Oh My Gawd!” The short man halted in mid-read.
“No... It cannot be.” The tall man shook his head.
“Death! But this election was for the Presidency!” The Presidential Candidate called out.
“You should have known better Sir.” The short man shook his head.
“I’ll page the Secretariat, have him call in some favors.” The Presidential Candidate insisted.
“Too late... He won’t help you now. Would you like me to mention anything in your obituary?” The familiar face of someone who always had a sheaf of black paper and a black pointed pen in his hand emerged from the shadows.
“But- what- who- you’re not in my party- neither is the- and you- what? What’s happening?”
The figures blurred. Images of the survivors of the hellish ordeal flashed past in the Candidate’s head. All the people darkened in his gaze.
“Wait- calm down- Why is it too late?” The Presidential Candidate screamed at the images.
“Sorry.” A dark figure raised his weapon. “But you’re dead.”
A shot rang out.
LU Presidential Candidate Vovan fell to the floor.
Waking, Vovan broke out in a hot sweat. Opening his eyes, he sighed. “It was all just a bad dream.”
*
The votes having been counted, DrSpike was taken past the murder-scene down into the sewer where duke o’ york and the Vice President of MOD, Skanky Burns cracked off the hilt of the water-main and bashed him over the head.
Emerging from the sewer, blood on his hands, Skanky Burns grimly retired to MOD headquarters.
*
The Campaign Manager was working on the documents.
“Shame isn’t it that Doctor Spike was killed.” A man holding a black pen entered the room.
“Why? He’s not even in our party.” Imran frowned.
The other man smiled.
“What are you getting at?” Imran insisted.
“I’ve been doing a little sleuthing of my own,” The other man started.
“Yes- and?”
“It’s getting mighty suspicious that no SPAM party members are being killed.”
“And why are you telling me this?”
“I think you should adjust your votes accordingly.”
“What?”
“For the killer.”
“Why?”
“Why not? Wouldn’t it look bad if the only survivors were from the SPAM party?”
“They should I vote for you?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
“Who’s close to cracking? Who’s no longer an asset?” The other man turned and left the room. “Think on it.”
*
G.J. Ramsey took Vovan’s pulse. “It’s not good.” He frowned.
“What is it? Vovan croaked.
“You’re suffering from Stress Syndrome B. There’s no known cure except to remove you from the situation of stress.”
“Gawd.” Vovan closed his eyes, trembling.
“At least I think that’s what you have...” G.J. muttered, taking his hand from Vovan’s wrist. “I wish Dr. Spike was here to confirm my deductions.”
Vovan winced.
*
Zopperoni refused to travel anywhere without an escort any more. He even made Rasputin accompany him to the bathroom, flashlight in hand.
Waiting by the door and biting off the core of an apple, Rasputin twiddled his fingers.
After a few minutes, he thought he saw someone sneak past him in the shadows. Abandoning Zopperoni, he followed the man, but lost him when he neared the basement. Shrugging his massive shoulders, Rasputin returned to the bathroom... but Zopperoni was no longer there.
*
Later that night, Skanky Burns choked on his food... And couldn’t stop choking. As his lungs clogged, he wished he had ordered Duke o’york or asked the Party Chairman to stand by his side and wondered why they hadn’t returned to the Headquarters this night and if they were out gathering food or plotting to assassinate someone.
As his mind became overwhelmed with pain, Skanky neverthless continued to think...
Just why had someone wanted to murder him? And especially in such an idiotic way- he had been hit in the stomach by a man he couldn’t quite place, then had his neck twisted back, closing his esophagus and air tunnels.
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vovan
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* vovan takes some heart pills
Vote senttt.
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DarkCloud
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of Lists
Jul 2000
time: 05:37
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Chapter 6: Fighting in the Halls
Having been beaten to a bloody pulp, and nearly dead, Zopperoni was about to give himself up to fate when the scream came traveling down the hallway.
“What’s that?” His first beater, the Bodyguard- Duke O’York turned away.
“Keep hitting.” Spaced insisted.
“I don’t know- it sounded like someone was calling about a dead body.”
“What?” Spaced turned. Duke O’York started running back to MOD Headquarters where he discovered Skanky Burn’s choked and bloated body. He turned away in disgust, then noticed the figure running in the shadows. “Hey wait!” He called.
The man momentarily turned and screamed at him- “Killer!”
“No!” Duke O’York responded- “I came at the sound of your voice!”
“Then why’re you alone?” The man halted in his run.
Spaced Cowboy appeared at Duke’s side.
The running man returned to the two.
“Seems like you have some explaining to do.” Spaced glared at him.
“I’ll write it down.” The man took out his black paper pad and started scribbling.
*
Zopperoni, the SPAM Presidential Candidate, now left alone, crawled back to his headquarters, his lower-lip bleeding and leaving a trail of blood.
GJ Ramsey, frowning deeply, wiped the blood from the ground with a paper towel, then did his best to console his employer and Presidential Candidate.
*
“And you see-” Joncha finished his explanation.
“I was merely coming to speak to Duke O’York about the killings- I fear for my life. I fear that an important personage is behind the deaths- and since Duke detected General Ludd before- I think he might be correct again-”
Spaced Cowboy glared at him. “You will discuss nothing, scum. We will vote on this incident.”
Joncha hung his head.
*
At the voting, everyone was silent, realizing that soon- they would all be dead. The UN had yet to free them from this hell-hole they found themselves trapped within, and soon their food would be running out- or they would all crack, like Vovan and Zopperoni and find themselves mere husks of the characters that they once were.
When the votes were counted, it became obvious that the most suspicious person had been located... and that person was Spam Party Campaign Manager, Imran Siddiqui.
Imran, disgusted by the results screamed out in anger- “Joncha you fiend! This was just to set me up for the fall- wasn’t it- you WANTED everyone to vote for me! D-n you, D-n you to hell!”
Joncha, shaking his head, grabbed his pen and stabbed Imran in the neck.
The man’s corpse tumbled to the ground.
“There.” Joncha announced, turning to the others. “Now we are safe.” He retreated back to SPAM headquarters. His fellow members eyeing him suspiciously.
*
Later that night, Rasputin was prowling around the perimeter of MOD Headquarters, attempting to spy on the beaters of SPAM Presidential Candidate Zopperoni. He had his flashlight in hand and was prepared to club the MOD Party Chairman on the back of his head when he felt a tap on his shoulder.
Turning rapidly, he looked down and saw nothing. He whirled and took a step forward, then felt himself pulled backward by a falling force as paper strangled him to death. Writhing, he spit out blood, then collapsed to the ground.
Blood pooled around his mouth...
*
Duke O’York and Spaced Cowboy claimed they found the body early in the morning... then called another vote.
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DarkCloud
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of Lists
Jul 2000
time: 05:37
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Chapter 7: The Writing On the Wall
As everyone gathered together, Spaced Cowboy announced his intention to use his power as MOD Party Chairman to make an executive decision. Joncha must die. He would be executed.
The man immediately lunged at Spaced, pen in hand, but was pulled off by Spaced’s bodyguard, then beaten.
Calmly watching the man die, Spaced took out his gun and shot him.
“There.” He declared, pocketing his weapon. “Now we will be safe.”
He turned to leave.
When he turned back, everyone save Duke O’York had disappeared. An eerie silence crept over the room.
*
Cleaning up in the bathroom, Vovan noticed something written on the wall. Squinting, he tried to read it. It seemed to say that “Your time has come.” He shook his head, then blinked. He must have been imagining the words, because when he opened his eyes again, they were gone- wiped away.
Then he gasped and fell to the ground as a flying figure knocked him off his feet, then hit the ground and proceeded to strangle him with wetted paper.
Nuclear Master and GJ Ramsey found him hours later, when GJ started to wonder where their Presidential Candidate had wandered off to.
Then GJ called for a vote.
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Apolyton Time is 00:37. |
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30-06-2004 04:24
Best laugh I have had in a while!
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