Despair's Insanity - an II x DR fic

Microphone's Testimony

"What the hell were you thinking, helping someone try and get away with murder!" Apple had sashayed over toward Microphone, who stayed quiet. "Oh- lemme guess! You weren't thinking, and you were just so SAD! Wah! Boo-freakin'-hoo!"

I very gently pulled Apple back by her shoulder, giving her my best stern look. "Apple, relax," I said with an edge to my voice, "she can tell us if you don't yell."

"By the time I had went to go see where the hell Soap had gone to, Pickle was already dead," Microphone replied through grit teeth. "He had either been stabbed, or he drowned face first in the rising water after falling off the bed. I only saw his body on the ground, and Soap staring at me with this horrified look on her face. I don't remember exactly what either of us said- but I do remember her at the VERY least asking me to help clean up. I didn't help kill him, I just... cleaned up the scene. If anything, that was the reason you guys realized it wasn't just Bomb. I could dare say I helped you."

Every ounce of tension grew thicker as Apple's shoulder tensed up in my hand. I wasn't entirely sure what she was going to say, if she would say anything in direct response to that, but I wasn't sure if I had been eager to find out. I shot a glance at the other two men to try and ask for some assistance, and Trophy stepped up.

"You don't have to justify it. It was wrong and a gross display of your own poor judgement, plain and simple. We talked about this briefly before, but I don't see any reason for anyone else to even care at this point. Soap was convicted, Microphone has helped in multiple investigations, and that's a lot more helpful than cleaning up blood in one instance for a friend." Trophy tightened up his bun and glanced to Apple. "You ought to consider how good outweighs bad sometimes."

"Hardly," Apple spat, "she could've gotten us all killed! I bet if she had to choose between actively covering up for Soap during the trial, and helping us find the killer by SAYING ANYTHING, she would've done the former, not the latter! And- she totally did! She said Soap would never hurt a fly, and yet she saw that Soap clearly slit somebody's throat! She tried to blame Bomb for everything, too!"

"She didn't," Trophy muttered, "she only said it wasn't Soap."

"And that means WHAT?!"

"Apple, she's a red herring. I can already tell you that. She made a pretty big mistake, but you'd think a traitor would've offered someone protection? Knife and Soap were some of the first people to die."

Apple got quiet, but still held a scary amount of tension. With a heavy sigh she turned to look at me, then Bomb, then finally back at Microphone. Her finger spun around to give her a wrap up signal.

Microphone, now visibly nervous, stammered for a moment before she could get out anything else. "Well- the- the second murder I wasn't around for. Knife hadn't talked to me for that whole day, and I was worried about him... but he didn't call me. I thought he'd be fine." There was a pause, a groan, and then the story continued. "The third one, I'd been sick like the rest of you. Well- as sick as mood swings gets you, but I still offered to help the others that were actually sick. Pepper had slipped past my radar entirely. The fourth case I had been asleep, fully unaware of anything that was going on. And for the fifth, I had been in my room most of that day to try and avoid Candle."

"You knew she was going to kill us," Apple mumbled. "You wanted her to do whatever she pleased."

"Apple, no." Microphone had no idea what else to say, and Apple got another chance to speculate.

"What if she had told you to hide? Huh? And then you did! You might not have liked her, but she sure liked you! So much so that she would kill for you!"

"She did it for herself, Apple. Besides, if she cared so much, why would I have this scar across my torso?"

A scar? I took out my phone to search through data cards and... sure enough, she had somehow developed a scar. Was she implying it came from Candle? I glanced back at her after she had pulled the side of her jacket back to reveal a long slice-scar.

"You think that was an accident?" Microphone asked, her voice stern. "She only started taking care of me because Fan had caught her trying to kill me when I was sleeping after the party. She knew I was vulnerable- and hammered out of my mind, frankly. I don't even remember it, but she said that she did it to test me. Fucking psycho..."

Bomb's voice raised up a little bit. "But- h-how did none of us nnnotice? And wh-why wouldn't you t-t-tell anybody?"

"Who the fuck was there to tell?" Microphone scoffed, almost looking amused at Bomb's questions. "Nobody noticed because I didn't tell anyone, and I didn't tell anyone because nobody gave a shit besides MAYBE Trophy. And even then that's a hefty stretch. He only likes me now that we're both super fucking lonely." I glanced at Trophy, who shook his head. She must've noticed too, and she looked away. "I- didn't mean it like that. I'm just being backed into a corner. Can we talk about someone else? What about Apple's testimony? She hasn't shared anything..."

"Oh!" I let go of Apple and nodded. "That's actually a good idea. I think we got all we needed from you anyway... and uh- my condolences for your suffering."

"It's fine," Microphone replied, still clearly bitter, "I think the scar looks kickass anyway. Alright Apple- your turn."