Player 2

Koopa Troopa

Victims: Daisy, Luigi, Toad, Toadette, Mona, Wario, Bowser, Kamek, Pauline, Boo, DK, Bowser JR, Diddy, Birdo, Yoshi, Wendy, Morton, Roy, Waluigi, Lemmy, Larry, Iggy, Dixie, Mario

Suspects: Peach, Rosalina, Ludwig, Koopa

Life had gone to shit. If the remaining survivor's lives were shit before all this, they were a whole lot shittier now. Koopa was especially done with the constant flow of tears and growing tension. The downward spiral had begun swirling as he slid down the slide to failure and he was beginning to feel sick. As he followed behind the three rulers of lands into the former room of discussion, he caught the scent of death in the air. It smelt metallic, sharp, a smell that had a tang to it. It was a cocktail of blood, fear, and madness. The scent that foreshadowed horrible things. The static crackling of an intercom message didn't faze him, Koopa couldn't give a singular fuck anymore. Or at least he couldn't care about something as trivial as a slightly-chilling message.

"My gun is loaded with three bullets. No target will be missed. There will be three new corpses lying in this building. The game will begin once you make a final guess on my identity. If you guess wrong, your death will be fast, clean but painful and you will die in anguish, the guilt of leading your peers to their graves weighing heavy on your shoulders. If you guess right, your death will be much worse. It will be slow, torturous and I will have no mercy. You may not feel guilty, but you will feel like you have betrayed what you once stood by. Take your pick. Sincerely, Player 2," the message signed off with a dark, low chuckle that sent an eerie shiver down the spines of the three targets for the bullets in Player 2's gun.

Peach gulped, trying to form the words she was thinking into a sentence that made sense. Ludwig seemed to have a clearer mind than she did and cut her off before she could even open her mouth.

"Rosalina," he said, the usual sarcastic flair in all his sentences now gone, replaced with an empty dullness that shone light on how utterly numb everyone was to the pain of death.

"Why me?" the platinum blonde, practically perfect, space empress questioned, the same dullness in her tone. The spark in her eyes was gone, dwindled to a speck. The faint scent of tobacco filled the air, yet that was not the gang's main concern. 

"You have brains, you're the only one of us who could write things that...sinister," he said, shuddering as he recalled the cold tone of the words.

"But I didn't write or say those words," she countered.

"Where's the proof you didn't?" he asked her. Peach and Koopa stood awkwardly to the side, unsure of whether to involve themselves in the battle of accusations. Deciding to make use of the time that the hot-headed pair would spend bickering, the blondes began their own debate albeit more passive. 

Ignoring the increasingly loud argument going on behind her, Peach turned to the cigarette-wielding Koopa and began to talk.

"So, whilst they argue amongst themselves, let's discuss this in as friendly a manner as we possibly can. No fighting. Alright?" she said.

"Alright," Koopa agreed, stubbing out his cigarette before speaking again, "So, who do you think is the bastard behind this?"

Peach looked up and away to the left, fixating her gaze on a cobweb in the corner, studying its pattern as she thought about her answer. After a long hesitation, she replied, "Honestly, I think it's between you and Ludwig. I trust Rosalina, she can't be behind this all. She wouldn't betray me like that...You and Ludwig are different. I don't know you guys well enough, and well, you are villains after all. I can't really fully trust you..." her sentence trailed off as she looked at him, her blue eyes glossy with a sheen of tears threatening to spill.