The Happiness Circle (A "Town of Salem" AU)

Night 25

Beginning of Night 25.

The Medium sat alone in his house, lighting the final candle in the circle around him. One deep, calm breath filled his lungs. When he reopened his eyes, his notebook flooded with messages. The dead. He knew not what they were speaking of, having begun at the middle of the conversation.

Mitch: Yea I kno Town's not stupid, they're just screwed

Kenny: They're beyond screwed

Lux: If the Doc and Vig do their jobs it's fine

Choco: Vig isn't going to do anything

JJ: Freezy's too lazy to actually shoot anyone

Ethan: So any new information for me?

Mitch: I'm not going to out my fellow Mafia members

Mitch: however I can tell you there's three more Mafia and Sk and Arsonist

Ethan: well then

Ethan: can the town even survive and win?

Mitch: that's what I was saying!

Lux: and as I said, just get the doc and Vig to do their jobs Medium and Town could win still

Ethan: you seem to forget Mafia's got a consort

Ethan: if they're smart, doc will be blocked every night

Lux: I did forget about consort :(

Ethan: so I'm absolutely dead, right?

Choco: yeah just about

Ethan: can I at least get confirmation on how many Towns are alive?

Kenny: as of yesterday morning, you got Invest, Medium, Doc, and Vig

JJ: and if Mafia's smart Harry will be dead in the morning, ridding them of invest

JJ: it's about three to six with Harry dead

Ethan: welp I'm taking the L on this one

Ethan: can't do anything to save us, especially since Arso has Towns doused probably

Mitch: if he's smart he does

Choco: based on who Arsonist is, they definitely have Towns doused

Ethan: alright, that's all I needed for tonight

Ethan: thanks and bye

Lux: see ya soon Ethan

The Arsonist sat quietly in his house, igniting and extinguishing the lighter within his hold. He was contemplating his existence while he enjoyed the rare silence. His head was usually the noisiest sound he could hear, but tonight it was at peace with him. He realized that as long as the current night went as it should, he would have a win soon. A smile cracked through his static features. A win. He loved the idea, a win with only igniting once. He ignited around Day 10, killing a load of town and some Mafia by mistake. Thankfully, the Mafia had forgiven him for his mistake, and so he lived. The previous Godfather had realized he was Arsonist almost immediately upon seeing him, which was soon brushed off as years of experience. Choco had been decent enough to the Arsonist, however he had never given the boy any names of other Mafia members. The Arsonist had a small voice in the back of his mind warning him it may just be a Townie who was pretending, but Choco did well in proving his legitimacy. What was quite odd to the Arsonist was the fact that he didn't know who the new Godfather was. Choco's replacement could easily have a vendetta against the Arsonist, killing him before he could get his win. As the night crawled on, however, he heard tell-tale signs that death would not come his way. Footsteps meant to be silent passed from one side of his house to another, a door opening and closing while on each side. In his lonely nights of silence, the Arsonist had been able to decipher who the Serial Killer was; he heard those same steps going away from his house every night. He had confronted him one night when the two had gone after the same person. It was a short talk, very awkward and uncomfortable. But they spoke nonetheless, promising not to rat each other out and to protect one another if possible. The rule was if it made you suspicious, don't defend the other. They both hoped they would win, and they could both win together if they played their cards right. Knowing that Serial Killer would not come after him, his biggest worries were Mafia and Witch. A loud gunshot that shook him to his core told him not to worry about Mafioso anymore. The Arsonist swore he could recall there being only one killing Mafia left too, which was a plus. He wasn't worried about the stupid Town either. So the Arsonist spent his night playing with his lighter, smiling at the small flame within his grasp.

The Godfather was not happy at all with the happenings of that day. This was no good. He needed Harry silenced, as well as Jerome, but without a Blackmailed what could he do? The boy paced his room, only stopping when writing began to appear in his notebook.

May I please kill Jerome? I usually don't make requests my Godfather, but I want him to suffer for what he did to both me and Mitch. I am truly convinced he was the Witch who controlled me last night.

Very well, you have my blessing. As for you, my dear Consort.

Yes Bossman?

I need you to visit Preston tonight. If he's really doctor, then we can't risk him healing Jerome or Harry. We need both of them gone.

Alright Bossman. I might even enjoy this.

Don't have too much fun. That'll be all.

With his new orders fresh in his mind, the Consort walked across the circular town center. He placed a smirk onto his face as he approached the door he needed, lifting a hand to knock. He never got to knock, however, as the door opened to reveal Preston with a large white case. A red plus sign was the only decoration on the case, other than the occasional splotch of blood.

"Hello?" The brunet boy sounded somewhere between confused and concerned. He couldn't quite see the blond boy yet, only getting a light outline of him. The Consort pushed Preston back into his house, following him in before he could protest. The door was closed behind the tall blond and Preston gulped as he realized who it was.

"Sorry Doc, but Bossman said we can't have you spoiling anyone's plans tonight." The brunet went to speak, to attempt to reason, but he was cut off by a pair of lips attaching to his own. He tried to fight off the taller blond's kiss, but he found himself unable to resist the light touches against his skin and the warm feeling flooding his chest. The Consort broke away from the kiss, biting his lip and grinning happily. "Ooh, I'll definitely be having fun tonight. Wanna give me a check-up, Doc? I've been feeling very, hot and bothered." It took all of Preston's strength to fight back a moan as he pulled the blond back down for another kiss.

Harry quickly gathered up his supplies, hoping if he escaped his house soon enough he could avoid any confrontations with anyone. This hope was destroyed, soon enough, as his front door swung open and someone walked in. The boy wore a maniacal smirk, knife brandished before him. Harry could almost feel his previous wound from that blade ache at the sight of it. The Serial Killer before him cackled, stepping towards the younger boy.

"No Doc to save you now, huh? I guess you're finally all mine, pretty boy." Harry tried to scream out, but only the beginning could be heard before a knife plunged right into his heart. His vision faded to black quickly, his last sight being the one of the killer before him, pearly white teeth glistening within his smile.

The Mafioso smiled happily as he walked the few houses down to get to his target. His gun was being spun upon his finger, a light skip in his step. He couldn't wait until he watched Jerome suffer for what he did. He knew it was Jerome because he recognized the voice as soon as Jerome began speaking that morning after. He was disgusted by Jerome, making him kill his own brethren like that. He would pay for what he had done. He would pay. The Mafioso swung open the house door, seeing his target asleep in his bed. No, the Mafioso would not kill him in his sleep. The angry boy pulled the older out of his bed, feeding off the whimper emitted as he smacked against the concrete floor. The Mafioso chuckled a little, tilting his head to the side. Jerome had to feel pain. As much pain as possible. Jerome slowly began to awake, eyes looking up at the other person in his house. He nearly sent a friendly greeting until he realized what was happening: someone was in his house. Jerome kicked back, managing to press himself against a wall. The Mafioso laughed, watching as fear filled the other figure. He'd feel true fear soon. He'd only know fear and pain for the rest of his life. The Mafioso took aim and shot Jerome's kneecap, a scream of agony filling the air. Jerome cradled the appendage, glaring at the Mafioso. The Mafioso was quick to react, grabbing a pillow from the bed and using it to silence a second shot, this time to Jerome's shoulder. The boy howled out in pain, tears falling rapidly down his face. Small pleas of help or stop or please filled the air. The Mafioso nearly screamed out in laughter. He had finally lost the last grip he had on reality, red staining his view of everything. The Mafioso let off two more silenced shots: one to the stomach, and one to the throat. The boy stood there watching until no more blood oozed from his wounds, the sun nearly cresting the horizon. He had won.

End of Night 25.