Tuesday, June 30, 2015

A Room of Killers I

No one else appears to be aware that everyone in the mysteriously sealed mansion was an infamous murderer.

To be absolutely accurate, not everyone was an infamous serial killer of some sort, and not everyone was totally ignorant of the criminal natures of the people in the room. I was the singular exception to both of these.

People have always commented on my problematic interest in crime news of the macabre sort. In hindsight, perhaps they were correct. The cause of these unusual circumstances might have been the result of my unique knowledge and interests. This was certainly not tempered by the fact that I had on several occasions wished to observe the most heinous of criminals up close.

Then again, if I was only an innocent party randomly inserted into this artificial situation, then I can only shudder at the outcome if I lacked my special insights.

The immediate question was, what was the purpose of this scenario? A set of rooms totally closed off from the outside, with sufficient supplies to last everyone for a week at best.

Even without knowing that everyone else is a murderer, someone will eventually come to the conclusion that the solution is to kill. 

Of course, if one was already a murderer, and a serial killer at that, then the thought process would be accelerated many fold.

And if everyone knew that everyone else was a murderer...

Judging from the state of relative calm, nobody has come to a similar conclusion yet. At the very least, nobody has acted suspiciously, or expressed any hints that they knew anyone else's identity.

A single pindrop might change all of this in an instant.

There was only one thought in my mind: How could everyone be killed?