Murder At The Hotel (DISCONTINUED)

ful stop

Lightbulb laid on the bed, locked in fetal position and feeling faraway from reality. When OJ had announced that Fan, Fan of all objects, was the murderer...

A lump formed in her throat, and she made a strange wailing nose; akin to that of a wounded animal's. Tears sprung into her eyes. Fan had always been so nice. A little nerdy, yes, but always kind. Lightbulb, never in her wildest dreams, had thought or even suspected Fan was the murderer.

Why, she thought bitterly. Why me? Why did this happen to me?

Lightbulb felt the sudden urge to scream, to cry, to hit something. Trembling, she squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to go to sleep. Anything to escape reality for even a few moments. She stayed like that for a few minutes, though to her it seemed like an eternity. 

With an exasperated yell, she shot up from her bed. In a blind rage, imagine her pillow was Fan, she started beating her pillows violently. Throwing them across the room, she stopped to observe the consequences of her outburst. Pillows everywhere, the blanket hanging just off the side of the bed. 

If she ever laid eyes on that traitor Fan again she'd- 

CLUNK!

What was that?

Lightbulb's eyes darted around the room, searching for the source of the noise. Was she just imagining things? But no, surely not! She heard the clunk loud and clear. It couldn't have been made up. There was nothing in the room that could've produced that clunking noise. 

But still... there was something amiss. 

Biting her lip, she tried to suppress a shiver. She felt the unpleasant sensation of being watched. Lightbulb shook her head, as to clear her thoughts. Perhaps she was just being paranoid. Of course she was. She was already on edge with what the murders and the real identify of the murderer—

Choking back a sob, she went over to pick up the pillows she had carelessly thrown. Still, the prickling feeling someone was watching her didn't cease. Get over it! Lightbulb thought to herself furiously. It's nothing!

An uneasy quiet settled on the room. Not that it wasn't silent before, but this time it was dreadfully uncomfortable. Maybe she had been to caught up in her mental hurricane to notice it before.

"Lightbulb!" a hushed voice sliced through the silence. Lightbulb froze, her back turned to the voice. "Lightbulb?" Rigidly, Lightbulb turned to face the voice. "Lightbulb—" A gasp of shock escaped her lips as she saw a familiar flurry of red fall from a vent and onto the ground.

"YOU!" roared Lightbulb, barreling towards Fan. All she saw was red and a boiling hot rage filled her. "HOW DARE YOU? HOW DARE YOU HAVE THE NERVE TO SHOW UP HERE!" 

 Fan looked horrified, shuffling back. "No, no—please, I can explain—"

"EXPLAIN THIS!" Lightbulb thundered, her fist colliding with his face. Fan tumbled backwards onto the ground, clutching his face. Lightbulb towered menacingly over Fan, puffing with anger and her fists curled up tightly.

"Lightbulb," Fan whispered, almost begging. His voice was disgustingly soft. As horribly kind as when she first met him. Lightbulb squeezed her eyes shut and turned her back to him. She couldn't bear to look at him. "Please let me explain."

"No," she replied coldly. "There's nothing to explain."

"Yes there is!" Fan argued, picking himself up. 

A prickle of rage spiked up in Lightbulb. "Like what?" every word she uttered was laced with venom, and Fan must've been able to taste it, because he was regarding her like a wild animal. 

He should be. I'll rip his face off!

"Okay, well... firstly, I'm not the murderer—" began Fan tactlessly.

I'll enjoy every moment of it.

"—It's actually OJ, see? And I heard him plotting with Taco in his office—"

I'm really gonna rip his stupid little face off.

"—And I also heard him plotting his next murder with her! They're both murderers!—"

Stupid idiot, spouting lies. I'll rip his dammed head off.

"—And I heard who the next victim was—"

The nerve of him. I'm gonna beat him blue and black!

"—It was you!"

What?

Lightbulb just stared at him, dumbfounded. She really wasn't expecting that. Fan blinked, awkwardly twiddling his thumbs. Then, the cogs in her brain starting turning. He basically just announced to her that he was going to murder her. 

"Where's your proof?" Lightbulb spat out. As long as they were talking, Lightbulb was sure she could preserve her life for longer and think of a plan. Plus, Fan would be unwise to attempt an attack anyway. She is much stronger than him.

"Proof?" Fan spluttered, his eyes widening. He hadn't been expecting any questioning.

"Yes, proof!" Lightbulb hissed. "Did you honestly just expect me to go along with whatever you said?"

Frowning, Fan realised his fatal error. Everyone still believed he was the murderer, and would take everything he said with a grain of salt. "I... I don't have any definite proof."

"Just what I thought," Lightbulb laughed callously, staring at Fan with great hatred. Fan could feel panic building up in his chest. What could he do? There wasn't any good way to get out of this situation. "I'm handing you in. Get here you—"

"No! No, no—I... I have an idea," Fan squeaked, dodging Lightbulb's furious attempt to swipe at him. Lightbulb glared at him, waiting expectantly for his answer. "I'm not the murderer, okay? I bet OJ will come get you tonight for something, to lure you to the kitchens!

"When I overhead him and Taco talking, they mentioned a pot in the kitchens. Poison, maybe? I don't know. But OJ asked if Taco had anyone in mind. She said yes. Taco called you naïve and OJ called you gullible!"

"Right, sure—" Lightbulb began, ready to bite his head off for even suggesting such a thing. 

Knock knock!

The abrupt knock cut off her words. Fan's eyes widened and he dived under the bed. Lightbulb didn't make any move to stop him. She'd just tell whoever was at the door he was under there. Lightbulb quickly answered the door. 

"Hey Lightbulb!" OJ said, oddly cheery.