"Paint what red?"
Tristan smirked. "The walls, of course." He spun around and looked toward the door. "But I'm finished with her. I'll figure something out. Otherwise, we'll all be murdered by the Vincent." He drifted over to the table, where paper flowers lay strewn across the surface. He picked one up. “I had these specially made for the retreat. Roses that won’t wilt. I figured, since she wouldn’t get real flowers ever again, she could enjoy these for eternity.” He stuffed a flower into his pocket and strode out of the room.
The voice was growing louder inside my head. My limbs were blazing hot from the power it took to still move them myself and not allow it to seize my entire body. Despite the massive amount of resistance, I fought to put the mask back on, and relief washed over me when I could think straight again, but, for someone like me, thinking straight wasn't exactly a good thing. I returned to my room, finding the axeI'd used before and then I went into the hallway to find Tristan.
The whistling sent me toward the stairs, where Tristan leaned against the railing, playing on his phone. He looked up at me, saw the axe, and smirked.
"You think that scares me?"
It should.
"If you kill me, you'll never know how to get your little sister back from the twins. They've probably already got her tied up, stripped down, and big rubber cocks shoved into all of her holes. The little cunt deserves it after damning us all. The hotel isn't going to let anyone out until it's received its sacrifice."
Moth could use some company, I decided, and raised the axe over my shoulders.
Tristan's face paled, and he slid to the side just as I swung down and the axe collided with the staircase railing. Wood splintered and cracked loudly, and I pulled back. Tristan took the second he had and fled the other way, sprinting back down the hall.
Knowing I could find him wherever he went, I strode at a slower pace down the hallway, letting him tire himself out. At some point, he pulled his room key out of his pocket but then dropped it. I scooped it up and flashed it at him.
"Help! Somebody, anybody! Wake up! Help!"
Moth appeared, and Tristan's face morphed into one of true terror. There had been nowhere for Moth to have come from. He'd appeared from thin air.
"How did you?—"
Feet away from him, I swung my axe again, narrowly missing him.
"Moth, are you—" Tristan dodged my weapon again but rolled onto the floor. We'd been going all the way around and finally had made it to the other side of the hall andidentical staircase. He pressed himself against the railing and frantically swiveled his head, looking for an escape, but there was none.
"Dead? Yeah, and it looks like you're next." Moth smirked.
"What?" Tristan looked at him, and I swung to the side. He once again was able to dodge the axe, but he turned and ran so quickly into the railing he flipped over it completely.
But there was no splat.
No loud thump as he hit the ground.
Moth and I shared a look and then stepped to the rails, looking over them and down.
Tristan's body hung limp, slowly rocking back and forth in mid-air. His scarf had caught on one of the large hooks used to decorate the lobby and had snapped his neck.
"Should we cut him down?" Moth asked me.I stepped away from the railing and walked toward the elevator to save Laney.
No, let them find his body like that.
Rule 49 - Priest
Don’t let the ghosts fuck with your head.
We walked silently, me still clutching the axe, and Moth grinning happily that he had another friend to spend eternity with, until a voice called to us from behind.
"Hey, you fuckers!"
We turned to see Tristan standing by the railing, looking from us to the other side of the railing, where his lifeless body hung from a decoration hanger. I turned back around and continued walking. I didn't have time for a meltdown as Tristan's spirit or ghost or whatever came to terms with his death. A blink later, Tristan was right next to Moth and me, following us.
"You fucking killed me!"
"Did he? Because technically, that dumbass scarf you were wearing was what choked you. If you had just fallen to the ground floor, you could have survived," Moth argued in my defense.
