Desert Island
Last night in the street
collapsed on itself,
In fact, it broke right in two;
And I fell in
The strawberry vines
Into a pool of strawberry wine,
Strawberry wine and clouds,
Burning in the desert, surrounded in flowers...
Some of the passengers are chatting as they roll down the highway, while others try to steal a nap. It remains dark outside, though the sky is slowly - almost imperceptibly - brightening as the sun approaches the horizon.
The music on the radio begins breaking up. At first, the passengers ignore it, figuring they are nearing the boundary of the radio station's reach. But when the radio cuts off entirely, leaving an eerie, ominous silence, one of the passengers - you, in fact - speaks up.
"Hey! Driver! What happened to the music? I was enjoying that tune!"
There is no response from the front of the bus.
"Driver?"
Still nothing. You sigh and stand up, knees creaking from the stiffness of sitting in the same position for too long. Several of the other passengers give you a questioning look as you walk the aisle, but you shrug off their glances. You reach the front of the bus. You look the seat. You blink and shake your head, the emptiness not quite registering at first. And then...
"Oh, sh..."
There is smoke everywhere. The passengers scattered about the overturned bus, pull themselves to their feet, trying to make sense of what just happened, trying to figure out where to go. There are coughs, but the sound of fire obscures the direction of them. The passengers grope about in the dark mist, alone.
They see a light, up ahead. It is faint, an indistinct blob of slightly brighter smoke, but it's there, and in the direction opposite the burning bus. They walk toward it.
"Is everyone well? Oh dear, what a terrible accident."
The passengers find themselves inside - a house, and a rather large one by the looks of it. There are several hallways and staircases in view in the large foyer where they are gathered.
"I do hope you are all ok. Please, please, don't panic. You are safe, now. I know that must have been an awful ordeal. Is this everyone? The smoke was so bad, I..."
A quick count reveals that there are only 14 passengers. Someone speaks up, suggesting that this seems low.
"I see, I see. Well, there was no one else around the bus. It was difficult to see, but my assistant assures me every area both around and in the bus was checked. There were no more survivors. Oh well, I'm sure the rest have just gotten disoriented in the smoke."
"No more survivors, you say?"
"Oh, my. Yes, I suppose I did. You see, my assistant did find one - I can only assume he was of your number - who has unfortunately passed on."
He nods to his assistant, who pulls a body into the room on a sheet. The passengers look from the corpse to each other, trying to process all this, but their mysterious host carries on:
"Funny thing, though. He wasn't burned, and nothing seemed broken. He appears to have perished from a bullet to the head."
He leans in, whispering.
"I believe there may be murderers among you."
He steps back, smiling.
"Never mind, never mind, I'm sure everything will be fine. You will, of course, stay here at least until morning, yes? The bus could explode at any time, after all, and I'm afraid you've picked a bad spot to be stranded. There's not anything around these parts for miles and miles. I'll see what I can do, though. No worries."
He nods to his assistant, who removes the body from view.
"I'll leave you to recover, shall I? You may want to discuss... things. By the way, I like the costumes and masks. Very clever. I'd keep them on, if I were you. After all, we still don't know why our dearly departed has shuffled off, yet."
With that, the man turns to leave the room. One of the passengers calls after him:
"Wait! Who are you?"
"Oh, dear, that's very rude of me, my apologies. I am Mr. Grey. Do call for me if you need anything."
You, Dear Reader (Innocent San Franciscan) have been killed.
The following players are missing: curiouskarmadog, Gorrad, IH, Nibbler Twins, OhGodMyLife, Sarcastro
It is Day 1. With 14 present, it will take 8 votes to lynch before the deadline, which is two weeks from this post.
