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Etho’s blood is still slowly dripping down the brick from where his body was impaled at the top of the clocktower during the previous night. It stands out particularly well against the moonlight, the dried red dark against the white walls.
Gem creeps out of her house, fog curling around the cobblestone path. She smells blood—whether it’s from Etho or her fellow villagers, she doesn’t know. Her eye twitches and she glances right and left where everyone else is peacefully sleeping. Only the misty moon and low-burning lamp lights cast a glow across town.
Her first day went well; she’s pretty sure she’s sliding under the radar so far. She spoke to Impulse and Pearl first where they all hard-claimed to one another. Of course, with her being the Imp, she was given two bluffs, and Pearl herself was the Spy and therefore knew the entire Grimoire, it was easy to lie to Impulse’s face. Once he left, Pearl quickly recited everyone’s role in the town, some highlights being Cleo the Saint and Grian the Drunk Empath, before they separated as to not cause suspicion of talking too long together.
She decided to leave Doc to his own devices for the day, not wanting to seek out her second minion on the first day. Besides, Gem was pretty sure no one was asking Doc about his role, already assuming he wasn’t going to say anything. She would have to speak to him in the morning; she’d like to know who he poisoned.
The sound of a faraway owl has Gem’s hairs on her neck standing up. With no wind, all sounds seem to be magnified.
Gem flexes her fingers, their sharp talons extending into deadly points. The only person she’s truly worried about is False. As the Slayer, all she has to do is accuse Gem of being the Imp and the townsfolk win. But it’s not like Gem can kill False now; there are ten others alive and her death would signal a possible Spy, which Gem certainly doesn’t want.
She thinks back to that evening, where the entire town congregated and began putting together everyone’s first-night information. With Ren the Investigator learning there was a Poisoner in play, Etho’s Washerwoman ghost communicating that either Impulse or Cleo was the Undertaker, Grian the Drunk Empath saying Ren and Doc were good, and Keralis the Librarian learning that a Drunk was in play, there was a lot to chew on. The Drunk really threw a wrench in the system, as nobody knew whose information was reliable. It was utter chaos.
Gem had to resist smiling.
So maybe she should kill one of the only first-night info getters? She really wants to wait to kill Impulse later, when either Pearl, Doc, or Grian, are possibly executed so he won’t figure out their true role, and killing any important role is too risky.
Gem starts in the direction of Cub’s house, nestled in between Grian and False’s. Maybe she can kill two birds with one stone. Cub’s the Mayor and has the chance of not dying. If Cub doesn’t die and it pings off someone else, Gem hopes it will hit an important role. If it hits Scar the Soldier who can’t die by the Imp, Gem’s Monk bluff can be mostly proved. But if Cub dies, Grian’s Drunk Empath powers will reach False (his next living neighbour), and Gem can only hope that False will turn up evil and the town will execute her without Gem having to lay a finger on the Slayer.
Cub’s house is a burgundy, its little chimney puffing out smoke. Gem silently walks up the front ramp and slides one of her talons in the front door’s lock, it clicking open almost instantly.
Inside, the fireplace is slowly dying and the boxy television is on a low volume, playing some sort of movie or show. Trinkets and various other things lay in the cabinet directly to Gem’s left and a collection of snow globes sit on the wooden coffee table in the middle of the living room.
Gem stalks towards Cub’s bedroom. She presses an ear against the door, only hearing the sound of light snoring. Gently, she twists the doorknob and pushes open the door.
Cub’s peacefully asleep in bed. A book is face-down on the nightstand next to him and a pair of fuzzy slippers peek out from beneath the bed frame. The window’s latched shut. As if doing so dissuades Gem from breaking in another way.
She makes quick work of Cub; a quick talon through the heart has him dead in his bed. The metallic smell of blood reaches Gem’s nose, her own heart fluttering with adrenaline and the satisfaction of an easy and decisive kill.
Carefully peeling back the bedsheets, Gem slides her hands under Cub’s neck and knees to lift him up. His body is still warm. She carries him outside, not bothering to close the door.
Then, her bones creak and her ears pop as leathery wings sprout from her back. With a thwump, Gem rockets towards the sky, wind rushing past her ears, her clothes flapping. Her heart thumps rapidly and a grin breaks out on her face.
She hovers over the clocktower where Etho’s body is still skewered by the long metal cross on top of the spire. Here, Gem can see the entire village and the surrounding sea, forests, mountains, and lakes. It’s beautiful, really. It’s too bad she plans to run this place to the ground.
Already, townsfolk are hesitant to trust their information in fear that they’re the Drunk; they’re hesitant to trust for fear that the other person is the Imp or a Minion. Factions are in the process of being made and lines are starting to be drawn. A handful of people are beginning to be suspicious of Cleo since Cub told the group that, after he’d claimed his role to them, they hadn’t returned the favour and had been overall very curt.
Perhaps she should feed into that belief. After all, if Cleo is executed as the Saint, Gem, and her minions, automatically win.
Her wings beating in the air, Gem unceremoniously drops Cub onto the metal cross atop the clocktower, his body making a squelching sound as he’s pierced through the stomach. There’s a slight thumping sound as he lands on top of Etho.
Gem goes back to bed.