As night swept across the halls of the manor, Pyromaniac scurried desperately to the room of the one he hoped to save that night. Finding his target's room oddly empty, he left the mild hallucinogenic/painkiller mix on their dresser, and turned to walk out.
Stood in the door was his target, and another of the housemates - now that he thought about it, they had been a little friendly.
"Hello Lenkmann." said one. "It's been a while."
Pyromaniac swallowed as he realised why this particular one had seemed so familiar: all this time, under the false beard and prosthetics, it had been Canning. Canning, here, in the house. His eyes flicked to the other man.
"Hired muscle, Canning? Bit below Order standards, isn't it?"
Canning smiled, and his mute partner stepped forwards.
"Actually, my dear sir, we have granted you a
very
special honor."
The Prince shrugged off his skin, and stood fully revealed. His weapon appeared in his hand, and stabbed down once, twice, three times.
Pyromaniac lay, coughing up blood, for a good three hours before his life finally ebbed away.
Pyromaniac, Lenkmann (Illiterate Doctor) Died from blood loss from multiple stab wounds.
Day 6 begins. It will end September 7th, 9PM GMT
YOU ARE IN A POTENTIAL LYNCH OR LOSE SITUATION.
