I'm so sorry, Zeon. I didn't mean to kill you!

*still partly paralyzed**stuttering* W-what jus-st happened, A- Anna?

I saved Destiny, but killed Zeon in the process. At least, I think that was what happened.

Whoooah this is crazy! I love it so far!

Ooh, it's getting good now! I like a good horror story! 

Day 4 ~

How does one react when the lively activities of such a lively bunch were quickly dying, unintentionally falling to the most odd, peculiar deaths? Simple, they scream, cry, run their heads into walls, act as if the ghosts of their friends were haunting them. Which, in a way, they were.

It was quite a simple matter, really: people were ceasing to live, but the weather just remained the most fabulous which is why no one was outside. Peculiar? Not in the least! This was exactly why poor CBerless Fleetfoot and the black barred owl, Ember, were arguing on this perfectly perfect day.

"Itz Kestls charml icream!" Fleetfoot cries, protectively holding the dead Kestrel's caramel ice cream.

This sets the small Ember in a fury, squawking and screaming at her friend.

"Yu insae Fletfot!" Ember bellows, attacking the poor CAPTCHA with her golden beak.

Unfortunately, fortunate events only ever get worse. Fortunate friendships break, and terrible things happen to those who are ungrateful.

With a flash, elementgirl and Stan are forcing the two sprawling CAPTCHAs apart. Lights flicker in the closet of which they argue. At the end of a mysterious set of stairs leading to the most peculiar of places.

"Stop it you two!" elementgirl cries, taking the ice cream away. "Fleetfoot, I know you are upset about Kestrel but T.F.D says we have nothing to worry about."

"Yea- Wait, what?" Stan asks, eyes wide. "I don't care what The Fortune of Death has to say! He's sitting here smiling like all is good while our friends are randomly dying!"

Elementgirl cocks her head to the side, eyebrows smashed together in confusion.

"But everything T.F.D says is correct."

At this moment, the peak of the argument does Fleetfoot carefully steal the ice cream back and slip up the stairs - the stairs to the mysterious attic.

"Fletfot!" Ember cries, flapping her wings in panic. "Not da attic!"

In distress, knowing The Fortune of Death made it clear to not enter the attic, the group of three spin around, sobbing.

"She's going to die, she's going to die!" They all chant in fear. "And there is nothing we can do!"

With precise timing, a very nonchalant, sane AE comes into view at the edge of the gold banister. He slides off, sighing at the sight of the pathetic commotion.

"How can you all be sooo annoying? Haven't you heard of giving a dragon his peace and quiet?" Spyro growls, pushing past Stan, elementgirl, and Ember. "Let me handle this..."

The moment Spyro steps on the stairs with such annoyance, the three break into howls of sorrow.

"Not Spyro, too!" elementgirl sobs into Stan's shoulder.

"Spo d-ded," Ember agrees, hanging her feathered head in shame.

"But I tho-" Stan starts, shaking his head in dismay.

As moments pass into what seemingly seems to be hours of sobs and cries, no one coming to assist their pain, Spyro calls from the attic's stairs.

"Hey, I got your friend," he calls, ostensibly bored. "And her ice cream."

The three heads pop up, shouting in joy. Such odd activities for fully grown people, no?

"My, my, this is quite tragic," a familiar voice says behind the group. "My friends! Did another one pass?"

The Fortune of Death. The Fortune of Pathetically-Overused-My-Friends-Phrases, more like.

"My friends, is everything all right?"

The cheering and hoots of joy are the clear answer, even more evident when elementgirl runs up and wraps her arms around The Fortune of Death.

"They're alive!" She shouts, pointing to Spyro and Fleetfoot. 

"Such a pleasant day, then! Let us attend to eat lunch," The Fortune of Death says, smiling.

As T.F.D, Spryo, Fleetfoot, elementgirl, Stan, and Ember, something strikes the cloaked figure as the most odd of situations.

"Hold on," The Fortune of Death says, holding out his hands. "Why, my friends, were you in the attic in the first place?"

This sends shivers of remembrance over the group, the coldness that reaches one's heart when they know they did something wrong.

"Well?" The friendliness of T.F.D's voice was gone like a flash, replaced with hard words of stone.

"W-We... We..." Stan stutters.

"Fleetfoot here was sleepwalking due to a caramel ice cream sugar high," Spyro smoothly says, "and walked into the attic, so I went to go retrieve her." 

"Ah, all pleasant!" The cloaked individual says, friendliness returning as if he never lacked it. "My friend, I will not even venture to ask how one sleepwalks on a sugar high."

Stan passes a thankful glance at Spyro who just returns a single nod and pushes forward.

~ ~ ~

"My friends, I am so pleased to have you all here with me today! My assistants have decided to "take a break" and leave a wonderful buffet for you. Go on, go on, pic as you choose!"

The Riddler and Ashlee are deep in discussion at one table, talking about the loss of their dear friends. Across the room, HAB, Spryo, and September discuss general matters. Such a shame that a group of friends discuss nothing but ending lives and brutally painful endings. Ah well, some just do not understand the beauty of the day.

"Connie, dear, do you want chicken nuggets?" elementgirl asks her CAPTCHA softly.

"Nooo," Connie sobs into her CBer's shoulders. "I mss Kestrl, Zeoon, nd Mlachitee."

"It's okay, sweetie. What do you wish to eat?"

Connie floats over to the large buffet tables with Gossamer and Stan picking at particular foods. Something unique catches the young one's eyes, a perfect piece of steak. Too perfect, even in a pristine hotel as so.

"elmntgirl, can I hve this?" Connie asks sweetly.

"Of course, Connie! Here, let me help you cut it," elementgirl says, grabbing the long, silver knife.

The moment the unknowing girl grabs the silver blade, it flies backwards, soaring. Connie cries, leaping in front of her CBer, taking the knife to the chest. She falls with a thud, eyes wide.

"Elmnt...girl..." She whispers, chest quickly rising and falling. "M-My... F-Frendd."

With that, the life of a young creature was blown out like a candle glowing for just slighly too long. With tears rolling along her cheek, elementgirl closes her sweet CAPTCHA's eyes, holding her close to her own chest. The hilt of the knife held out, sticky with golden blood.

"My sweet Connie... Why, why you? Why you? Why now?"

The lone CBer collapses, sobbing her eyes, giving her heart to her one loved CAPTCHA. The others in the cafetaria gather around, eyes wide, silent.

"Let me through, my friends, let me through!" The Fortune of Death says, pushing through the small gathered crowd of not-so-happy campers.

With a single hand, T.F.D pulls the blade out of the small creature's limp body and turns with a wide mouth.

"This was murder," he says, gulping, his smile melted. "Look, my friends." 

A few - Stan, elementgirl, Sequoia, HAB, and Ashlee - gather closer for a look. Tied so perfectly to the hilt of the silver knife was nearly invisible string, leading to a trigger spring trap in the buffet.

"I knew it was too good to be true," Ashlee says, holding her breath. "Elementgirl, I am so sorr-"

"No, no, I cannot handle this! She saved my life, I shouldn't be alive right now!" Elementgirl says, running out of the room.

"Should someone... go check on her or something?" HAB says, eyes scrunched in concern. 

T.F.D waves his hand in dismay, spinning to the crowd. 

"That will not be needed, HAB. Assistants!" The Fortune of Death calls, oddly smiling. "It's that time once again, let the Rose Maze greet their newest friend! My friends, please, go rest. And it does not do one good to dwell on the past!"

The group disperses, their hearts heavy, some evidently going crazy, others depressed, and some most oddly perfectly perfect. Some things are just too good to be true.

Death Toll: RIP sweet Connie, you shall forever be remembered as a hero. 

How often must I tell you, my friends? Smile! It makes everything better, because isn't today just the most lovely of days? ~ The Fortune of Death 

Day 5 ~

Brilliance, it's such a rare concept, no? Unfortunately, there is one thing that takes away such a concept: sickness. The kind of sickness that brings one so far down into the ground that their heart starts planting pathetic, shattered seeds in the spoiled soil. That is what the group of now only eighteen felt on such a gloomy, yet so perfectly perfect evening. 

"How do you handle losing your dearest of brothers?" Sequoia asks, face still traumatized into a solid expression - or just the straight forward craziness of one's broken mind.

"I don't," Quill murmurs from the darkness of her heart. "I live each day to die again. I thrive to fall, fall to see my brother once again."

Sequoia's face scrunches up in confusion but stays silent.

"That's... quite quite depressing," I say, leaning against the wall of their room.

"You creep!" Quill shouts, throwing a pillow at my face.

"Ah, my friends, you make me laugh," I say, throwing the pillow back.

"He's a flirt, Sequoia whispers in Quill's ear.

The two turn slightly red, glance away, then turn back and shoo my out of the room.

"How rude!" I exclaim, quietly smiling to myself.

To be honest, Quill really had caught my attention. I thought I would not be capable of... such emotions, but the AE had a soft spot in my heart. But alas, with all the perfect weather and no one to enjoy it with, I am left with no choice but to only dream of her beauty. She's an AE after all, whilst I a human. As human as a human may be...

~ ~ ~

"Did you see his face?" Quill whispers, wrapped in her dark blue and black wings. "He's odd, no?"

"Very odd, very odd indeed," Sequoia says, cringing. "I miss our friends."

"So do I-"

Just as peculiar as peculiar may be, a scream breaks out from within the walls. Low, deep, howling. Vibrating the floors in the most irregular of ways.

"What, what is that?" Quill asks, backing into her friend.

"Wingnut!" Someone - most evidently Nebula - cries from the shallows. 

The girls rush out of the room, The Fortune of Death of whom they kicked out nowhere in sight. No one ever takes much notice of the poor guy, he's lonely, afraid, and abandoned, putting a happy face on during the worst of storms. But no one knew what he was really struggling to do.

Quill grabs Sequoia and slides down the golden banister as so many before her have done. They turn the corner to face the most insane of imaginable situations.

Poor Wingnut laid sprawled across the red carpeted floors, eyes wide, mouth ajar, twitching. Sweat beaded down her poor little face, her skin hot to the touch.

"Where is The Fortune of D-" Nebula starts, until she is tapped on the shoulder by the peculiar one.

"My friends! What is the matter at this time of day? I was just about to invite you all to tea," T.F.D says, smiling.

"Wingnut is so very sick... so very sick," Nebula sobs. "She won't stop shivering, and she won't respond to anything."

"Let me bring her to the room, it could be contagious," The Fortune of Death says, lifting the small CAPTCHA into his arms.

~ ~ ~

I smile down onto the creature lovingly, as if something is saying this is family. Then, a strange part of my mind is singing the opposite. In such a world, what am I to follow? I carry my friend to the closest bedroom and ask Sequoia and Quill to look over her.

They have that motherly instinct after all...

"Good luck, my friends. I promise she will be alright," I say, before slipping out of the room.

I let out a sigh, put on my constant grin, and face the others for teatime. Such a wonderful day, I must continue to say. Such a wonderful wonderful day.

~ ~ ~

Quill and Sequoia wrap their arms around the CAPTCHA, quietly whispering to each other.

"Why us? I don't mind watching over Wingnut, but shouldn't his assistants do this?" Quill asks cautiously, glancing at the door. "Why us, after all that has happened?"

"Because days turn into nights, nights into years," Sequoia says with no evident explanation.

As night falls, the two wake up screaming, nightmares tearing through their minds. Quill weakly grabs at Sequoia's arm, crying. Wingnut laid between them, rocking back and forth.

"I'm... so sick," Quill gasps, staring at her friend. "My soul is being stolen by the beasts so far aw-away."

"H-Hang in there," Sequoia whispers, her body shaking violently. "We are st-strong."

Hearing their panic, September bursts into the room with medicine jumping in her hands.

"Oh no, no, no! Let me help," she cries, digging through the medcine bottles. "Don't worry, The Fortune of Death said it is only the mildest of colds, or a very simple flu. You shall be fine."

Wingnut cries in dismay upon hearing this then falls silent. The two girls glance at each other, pain in their eyes like a monster so deep. This wasn't right.

"No..." Quill says before falling to sleep once again, the pain too much.

September spends hours by their side, and so unpurposefully falling ill, her medical use not enough to keep her safe. All in all, four figures limp against their beds, sick, the scent thick. When morning arrived, all was silent. Too silent, for the storm outside their hotel raged ever so slightly, easing away.

"My friends, my friends!" T.F.D calls, letting himself easily into the room. "Are you ready for- My friends? No, no, not you too!"

He runs to the bedside, sobbing, making sure no one hears.

"My friends, wake up, please!"

The moment he says that all-to-repetitive word again, Quill's eyes shoot open.

"Ahhh! What are you doing in here?" She cries.

Ah well, some were never going to appreciate his presence, no matter how hard he tried.

Seeing September, Wingnut, and Sequoia still limp in form, she bends over, shaking all of them in turn. The Fortune of Death watches patiently, his fake smile ever so clear on his face now.

"My friend, are they all right?"

Minutes pass without an answer, when Quill finally speaks up.

"She's dead."

A questioning look from T.F.D sends her to elaborate.

"September, she's dead, no pulse. The Fortune of Death, she died saving us."

And as simple as that, the small winged AE broke into tears, throwing herself against her forever sleeping friend.

"Quiill," Wingnut says, finally having woken.

The scene is too much, more tears, waking Sequoia. The sight of yet another death sends her body to the Rose Maze, news spread among the hotel. No one feels safe anymore, even their own host, for not every day was as wonderful of a day as first thought.

Death Toll: September

You thought life was hard, but have you tried my life? You don't know my story, my friends, just as I do not know your own. But with this sickness, murder, and mysteries presented oddly thus far, we will unite, my friends, and grow to be family. Just believe in me, for I believe in you, my friends. ~ The Fortune of Death. 

Day 6 ~

My friends, my friends, sights such as those you are about to experience will change your lives forever. More damage - or creation - done to yourselves already, which is exactly why the Riddler, Quantum, Destiny, and I were talking during our daily tea.

I sit, one leg over the other, chin in my hands, head tilted slightly, listening to their discussion.

"-And he was like an animal," Destiny retells the story of Zeon's death. "The poor boy was just feet away from my throat, blood dripping down his jaws like a wild animal. And... And..."

"And it's time for happier thoughts, for today is a wonderful day!" I interrupt, slamming my hands on the table.

This makes my company jump in fright, ah well, why do I even try?

"Do you wish to visit the Rose Ma-"

"No!" Riddler and Quantum shout together as Destiny cringes.

"My bad, my bad. Continue talking," I say, smiling.

Destiny stands up, grabbing her friends' arms and quickly walk out, leaving me behind.

"My friends, I am coming!" I shout after them, running carefully as to not trip on my cloak. "My friends! Friends?"

Gone.

I shiver at the thought of being alone again, like when I was... a child. A child ever so long ago. My hands twist nervously as I make my way up the stairs, trying to follow my guests' tracks. Being left alone for too long does mess with one's mind, no?

My black gloved hands glide along the golden banister, a banister so old it's beautiful. Everything's beautiful while this literal storm rages, is it not?

"T.F.D!" Gossamer cries at the top of the stairs. "It's a disaster, I've been looking everywhere for you!"

"Me tooooo," Fleetfoot whispers, hiding behind her AE shyly.

I eye Gossamer cautiously, regardless the large smile on my face.

"Yes, my friend?"

"I have no idea how to fulfill my specialty!"

Then I remember the rumors about this girl: she claims death is her specialty. Ahm, if they state it, the idea must be real.

"I fear I cannot help you with tha-"

"Yes, you can! I don't know how to fix my hair because Fleetfoot swallowed my hair spray somehow," Gossamer says with Fleetfoot's face guilty as a newborn puppy.

"Fleetfoot, my friend! Naughty, swallowing a bottle of hairspray is terrible on your small system," I say, waving a single finger at the CAPTCHA which makes her cower even more. "Hold on, how is that even possible?"

Gossamer sighs, rolling her eyes. "It's a long story. Now are you going to help me or what?"

I shrug, and step behind the AE, beginning a unique medieval lace braid down her back.

"You are a lifesaver, T.F.D!" Gossamer exclaims, hugging me.

I stand stiff, eyes wide, as she steps away.

"Leefsver!" Fleetfoot adds, laughing in a high-pitched little way.

"My friends, I am sorry, I must be going. I really do hate hugs," I say, offering an apologetic smile.

Just as Gossamer opens her mouth to speak, a scream of the oddest varieties breaks loose. Similar to that of a few days ago, a low bellow of everlasting pain and grievance from below us.

"Let me go handle this!" I say, running toward the attic, tripping on my long, black cloak along the way. "My friends, my friends!"

The moment I turn the corner to the attic stairs, my heart breaks, and I almost cry out. There from a window stood Pascal Décès Le'van's most trusty of untrusty ravens - Vehcohl, a black-papered letter in his aged beak.

"Vehcohl!" I shout, pushing forward through the small crowd of shocked friends.

"What did he call it? The Riddler asks, evidently back in the scene now.

I cough, glancing at The Riddler, Quantum, Destiny, Fleetfoot, Anna, and Gossamer who have gathered. Then I swoop in, whispering pleasant-to-my-ability words to the ancient raven, grabbing the letter.

"Go, go, my friend," I say, shooing the raven away.

Instead, he flies inside my pristine hotel, landing on the shoulder of Quantum, who holds a bucket of no other than worms in her hands. With ever so light fingers, she feeds the raven her deceased AE's worms, silently crying. 

At last, the raven glides out of the open window, out into the raging storm beyond. Back to his still outraged owner, the 100 year old man who I know so very well.

"My friends!" I say, reading the letter slowly, reading in between the lines. "My friends, I fear something terrible will happen today. An event so frightful, awful, that I have absolutely no control whatsoever over."

Anna steps closer to her friend, Gossamer, shivering. The whole hallway hushes so quiet I can hear myself breathing.

"One of you has to die."

Even after saying the words, it still doesn't seem right, something isn't right. But who does it matter, the old man said. To keep this such a wonderful day, we do as the old man says. At least, that is what I was taught so many endless, unimaginable, nightmarish years ago.

"D-Die?" Fleetfoot says, speaking everyone's thoughts.

"Die. The Old Man has told us that if this storm is to ever go away, one of you must die - in the attic," I explain, continuing on my peaceful, happy smile. "My friends, if we do not obey, terrible things will happen to all of us. Terrible, terrible things, my friends."

The Riddler shares glances with Quantum, silently exchanging words.

"Who will it be, you bloodthirsty murderer?" Quantum spits, her hidden micro mail armor ringing out.

"I am not a murderer, my friends! I am doing everything in my power to stop these dreadful series of events, but this is out of my power. What the Old Man wants, the Old Man will get, trust me with your endless, empty hearts on this one," I say, taking a deep breath before saying the last dreadful words. "He wants Destiny."

Destiny, beyond shock, stands paralyzed. Anna wraps her arms around the girl protectively, then backs away, still afraid of her own power. Who can blame the cursed child? She did murder someone to save the CBer after all.

"Destiny, do this for your friends. If you do not enter, we all die in the most terrible of ways," I plead. "Please, my friend."

Slowly, mindlessly, the poor broken girl steps onto the attic stairs, expression blank. One step, two step, three, before disappearing into the shadows. A blood chilling scream breaks loose at the top of the stairs, cut silent seconds later.

"The job is done," I say once the peaceful silence is returned. "Now please, join me on this wonderful day for tea!" 

My false optimistic-attitude-about-dying doesn't do a thing, in fact, everyone breaks down into even more tears.

"Destiny!" Anna cries, throwing herself to the ground. "I am a monster who killed my own friend to save this girl! Then you, you monster, The Fortune of Death, sends her off into some strange attic to die!"

I hold my hands up in pure innocence, sighing.

"Anna, I would trade my life if I could, but this was out of my control. The Old Ma-"

"The Old Man this, the Old Man that!" Anna screeches, swinging her arms toward me.

Her actions are so beyond violent I am knocked off balance and thrown backwards over the banister, catching myself on the railing before falling two flights.

"Anna, my friend, please reconsider your hurtful, somewhat depressing, actions!" I cry, hanging on for dear life.

"Anna!" The Riddler and Quantum cry, pulling the insane AE away.

Quantum rushes forward, grabbing my arms, and pulls me to safety.

"Thank you, my friend. Assistants! Bring this girl to her room so she harms no one else. Just for the evening, mind you. I hate to see my friends in confinement."

Then I turn to the tear stricken crowd of friends. My friends. Part of me begins to believe Anna was right after all.

"My friends, let us please go to tea," I say halfheartedly. "It's for our own good, I am afraid!"

Death Toll: RIP sweet Destiny, sacrificed in order to satisfy the Old Man's hunger. You will forever be remembered.

When anger so deep, so violent, is awaken, all one can do is obey and hide. I fear the worst has come, my friends. Stay strong, and enjoy this wonderful day of tea. ~ The Fortune of Death.