We returned to the voting room, one of the most dreadful areas in the entire godforsaken facility. It was the place that crushed hopes, dreams, and expectations. No one entered the room in high spirits. Not after everything we went through. Everyone kept silent and followed the instructions of the game moderator. One by one we entered our booths and cast our votes. That time, it wasn't a difficult choice to make. I had more than enough money to save the bar.
I couldn't hit the "leave" button fast enough.
Too many people suffered in Serendipity. I wanted it all to end. However, a lingering dread stayed in the back of my mind. Deep down, I already knew that nothing would change. Two deaths weren't enough to deter one's greed.
I stepped out of the booth and gathered around Caius along with the other players. The results came in and proved the feelings of my anxiety. Caius smiled and turned his tablet over to show us the results.
“Amazing,” He cheered, “Despite everything you players have been through; three of you still wish to play! I admire your tenacity!”
“Son of a bitch!” Wyatt cursed.
“Another day in paradise? Fine by me.” Melanie accepted the situation all too quickly. She shrugged her shoulders and left the room along with Klara without a fuss.
“What was the point of this? Of course, we’re not going home…” Iris solemnly stated.
“Iris? Are you okay?” Henrika asked.
“Far fucking from it…” The young girl’s voice tinged with frustration and malice.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Just leave me alone.” Iris showed herself out the room, not even bothering to look at anyone else.
“I can’t stand seeing her like that.” Henrika lamented.
“What did you expect would happen to her? She found out that her friend was murdered by someone that she trusted.” Wyatt moved his piercing gaze to Darius. “I am surprised that she is not like him.”
“She really needs to talk to someone.”
“I agree. Keeping her emotions bottled up would do her no good in the games.” Nicholas added.
“Leave her alone for the time being. She will talk whenever she is ready.” Salomon assumed.
“When concerning a person’s death, sooner is better than later,” Zoey stated.
“Speaking of later; the games will start back up again,” I mentioned.
Henrika shuddered as she brought her hand up to her injured ribs. “I don’t want to go back into that dreadful game room.”
“Compared to the other games, we got off easy. And you gave everyone quite the show with your…” Salomon stopped once he received a harsh glance from the woman.
“Tell me the same thing after you suffer from a fifteen-foot fall and sustain broken ribs.”
The old man, in response, raised his coat and revealed his grotesque scars. Henrika clasped her hand over her mouth and looked away. It was her defeat.
“Well, same as before, let us do our best to survive.” Nicholas declared.
Afterward, everyone left the room and went their separate ways. I headed to my room. But, along the way, I caught Darius standing in front of the door.
“Move,” I ordered.
“I…I need to talk to you…” Darius pleaded.
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
“I know, I don’t blame you. There’s no excuse for what I did.”
“That’s an understatement. Now move.”
“Not yet. I know that I was found guilty of Elena's murder, but, I refuse to accept it.”
“Don’t care. There’s physical evidence on your cheek, and there was a video of you doing it as well,” I reminded him. He cringed at the memory of it. But, I didn’t stop there. “Face it. You killed her.”
“I don’t want to believe that!” He exclaimed. “I don’t remember the thought of killing her every crossing my mind! I’ve never thought about killing someone—ever!”
I had nearly come close to knocking him on his ass again. I didn’t want to hear his pathetic excuses. Matter of the fact was—he killed Elena. Nothing would change that.
“I’m giving you one last chance. Move.” I demanded.
“Or else what?!” He suddenly challenged. The kid must have thought killing someone helped him grow a pair. “You can’t force me out of the way, or else it will count as physical violence.”
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“Yeah, I’m sure you know all about that rule.”
“Please, just hear me out. Give me some time to explain myself.”
“I already told you that I don’t want to hear it.” I showed my back to him and walked down the hallway. I heard his pathetic cries and wails, but I ignored them. He wouldn’t get sympathy from me. That was the last thing that he needed.
With my room off limits, I moved to the lounge to relax. There, I came across Henrika. The woman sat alone at the bar, possibly drowning her sorrows away.
“Hey, Ambrose.” She called out to me as she set her drink on the bar counter.
“Hey…” I wandered over to the couch and took a seat. “Don’t you think it’s a bit early in the morning to drink?”
“What do you care?” She argued. In a show of defiance, she raised her glass and chugged down the entire thing.
“Just curious,” I answered. “Try not to get yourself too wasted. Don’t think getting drunk is the best thing to do right now.”
“Well, I don’t know what else to do right now.” She pushed her glass aside and rubbed her temples. “Everything is just so messed up. I need something to help me calm down.”
The warmth of her once never ceasing smile had long faded. The time spent in Serendipity tore away at her piece by piece--at all of us. We had already lost so much—I couldn’t stand to lose anymore.
“If you don’t mind—may I suggest something lighter for you?” I stood from the couch and moved behind the bar counter. I searched through the vast choices of drinks for the perfect selection.
One drink crossed my mind.
“What? Mr. Scowls-a lot is making me a drink?” scoffed Henrika. “Now I know the whole world’s gone topsy-turvy.”
“I am a bartender, remember?” I gathered the ingredients for the intended drink and set them out on the counter.
“Yes, I do. Forgive me for the little jab.”
“It’s okay.”
We remained awkwardly silent for the five minutes it took me to make the drink. It was only our second encounter alone in Serendipity after all. So, joyous conversation topics were scarce.
But, I didn’t mind.
I had no intention to have a long conversation with her in the first place. I just wanted her to settle down before I returned to my room. Tensions were already high from the previous game. I tried to do what I could to ease the situation—if only a little.
“Here…” I passed the drink over to her. She stared bewilderedly at it—as if it were some vile concoction. “Something wrong?”
“Aren’t you going to tell me what it is?” Henrika demanded. “I didn’t personally request this drink. So, I have no idea what it could be. When you serve drinks to a customer, you should always inform them of the drink you’re serving. Are you sure you’re a bartender?”
I felt my face stiffen. That woman had a lot of nerve to talk to me that way; especially after I went through the trouble of making the drink. If we were at my bar, her ass would’ve already been out on the street.
“It’s a pomegranate martini—garnished with a lemon. It’s one of the very first drinks I learned to make.” I answered.
Satisfied with my explanation, Henrika flashed me her usual smile before she tasted the drink. Her face brightened once she removed her lips from the glass.
“My goodness. It tastes delicious. Thank you very much, Ambrose.”
“You’re welcome.” I stepped out from behind the counter and prepared to leave. But, Henrika reached out and firmly grabbed hold of my wrist.
“Hold on. You’re not just going to leave, are you? Why not stay and join me for a drink or two?” She suggested.
I weighed my options.
Staying for a few drinks didn’t sound all bad. However, it was hardly the time for it. I made the drink specifically for her—not me. I’d need something a bit stronger. If I left and tried to head back to my room, there still stood a chance that Darius would be there.
“Fine.” I relented to Henrika’s suggestion and took a seat right next to her. She passed me a glass then filled it with the martini.
“Nice to see you being a bit more sociable.” She commented as she filled her glass back up.
“Why do people keep saying things like that?”
“Well, compared to how you were the first day we all met, you’re a lot tamer.” Henrika ran her finger across the rim of her glass.
“What do you all expect? I was placed here in this death trap with eleven other strangers. Forgive me if I didn’t feel like getting chummy with any of you day one.” I said as I raised my glass. I downed the drink in one go. The sweet taste of the beverage soothed me as it went down my throat.
It reminded back to my early days at the bar. Maynard would spend hours forcing me to make that single drink. And it just had to be perfect.
No mistakes. None.
If he found anything wrong with it; he’d get in my face and chew me out for long strands of time.
“It was just a joke, Ambrose. Settle down.” Henrika said. “Anyway, can I talk to you about something?”
“Go ahead.”
“Are you satisfied with the results of Elena’s murder case? You know, with Darius being found guilty as the killer?”
“You have doubts?”
Henrika’s expression turned strained as she moved her head away from me. “I don’t know if I’d go as far as to call it doubt. But, something about all this just grates.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“I feel so stupid that I didn’t bring it up. But, no one during the debate mentioned a motive.”
“Motive?”
“You don’t know? It’s the reason why Darius killed Elena in the first place.” She sternly explained.
“I know what a motive is. I meant that I couldn't see one.”
Henrika turned her body to face me and held her finger close to my face. “I know! And that’s the problem! No matter how much I think about it, I can’t come up with a clear motive for him to kill her!”
“What about just wanting to get rid of her? Out of everyone, Elena was the weakest.” I stated.
“Can’t deny that. But, wouldn’t it make more sense to save her for last then? Elena posed no threat to anyone.”
“Maybe he just wanted to get her out of the way? I mean, she only had five points. Perhaps he thought he’d take them for himself?”
“But those points of hers didn’t go anywhere. She was killed outside of the game room. If Darius wanted her points, then killing her like that was pointless.”
She made some excellent points. When I thought about it—things didn’t make sense at all. Overall, we were right about Darius as the killer. But, it seemed we glossed over important details.
“The only way we’d learn the motive is if we ask Darius himself.” I reluctantly said.
“I’m sure we’d get the same response as before.” Henrika rolled her eyes then poured us more drinks. “He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t remember.”
“A likely excuse.” I sarcastically admitted.
“I’ll leave him alone for now. My focus now is making sure that Iris gets better. She can’t possibly play the games in the condition that she’s in.”
“Just give her some time to grieve. Death of a close friend isn’t something one quickly gets over.” I solemnly explained.
“I know. But grieving alone isn’t the best thing for her. She isn’t the only one that lost someone, Ambrose. We have to make her understand that.”
“Then go talk to her.”
A heavy sigh leaked from her as she hung her head in defeat. “I’ve tried. She won’t open her door for me.”
“Tough.”
“But…” She slowly raised her head and turned to face me. Instinctively, turned my face away from hers. I knew exactly where she planned to go with the conversation.
If I hadn’t known any better, I’d say she manipulated the flow of things from the very start. When I tried to leave, she grabbed my wrist. Every fiber of my being screamed for me to run.
But, I couldn’t. I didn’t know how to explain it. It wasn’t fear that kept me there—frozen. It was…something else.