Anonymous message #1: Anonymous message #2: - Jellyman was shutting up shop. It had been a quiet evening. Darave was dead, and his lynching had been a foregone conclusion for hours. The town was growing weary, and after a few nights on the drink in a row for most of the village, Jellyman’s pub was empty already. It was barely even midnight. As Jellyman dried the last tankard with a pristine white dishcloth, he sighed heavily. “What on earth…?” Jellyman had seen something outside, through the frosted glass windows that fronted onto the road. There was a figure in the road, floating about a foot above the ground. It had its back turned. Putting down his dishcloth, Jellyman moved towards the door and opened it, slowly. Peering outside, he could see that the figure was cthulhu. The ghost of cthulhu, haunting the village streets. Cthulhu’s head turned violently towards Jellyman, a flash of his black eyes were seen momentarily by Jellyman, and in an instant the door was slammed shut – Jellyman wished to be safe indoors. He was now hyperventilating. Getting up, he was knocked back down again immediately, as standing at the bar was a wolf, seven feet tall and ugly. Really ugly. “Evening, barkeep.” The wolf launched a barrage of tumblers, pint glasses, pewter tankards, champagne flutes and boxes of Golden Wonder at Jellyman. There were screams, and there were minor cuts to Jellyman’s arms and face. As immediately as it started, it stopped. “What’s your pint?” The wolf was calm now. “Wha-? My pint?” Jellyman was understandably confused. “Cthul- What’s cthul-“ “Never mind him. What do you drink?” “Well if it’s to be my last I-” “It will be your last, yes.” “Anything you like, wolf, to be honest.” Now behind the bar, the wolf began to rummage around. He was rustling up a cocktail of sorts. “Drambuie, bourbon, a squeeze of lime… vodka – all organic too, obviously – and some pineapple juice… I haven’t got a clue what I’m doing, you know. Just in case that wasn’t obvious to you. Yoghurt! Mustn’t forget the-“ The wolf had looked up and seen Jellyman pale and shaking, watching and not watching. Glazed over. “What’s up Jellyman? It had to happen some time. At least you’ll have a delicious tipple before I rip you to shreds.” Jellyman stifled a heave. He was petrified. The wolf’s demeanour was unsettling him; it was like a nightmare. “I will have to… you know…” The wolf punched a right fist into his left palm. “I can’t just make you a drink and be done with it and leave. You have to go tonight.” Still Jellyman said nothing. “Look… I can put a little poison in there maybe. Make it easier for you. Do you have any poison?” Silence. “Of course not, I suppose, this place is pretty clean and the community’s not going to go poisoning each other down the pub as a matter of course. I’ll just give it some bleach, eh? That’ll do.” The wolf offered the now overflowing glass to Jellyman. The top was frothy, the contents of the glass had congealed. The air was bleach-y. Jellyman began to drink without saying a word, gulping it down, and was throwing up within seconds. Finishing the drink, he muttered, “I hate you,” and was gone. Dead. The wolf stomped on his head – flattened it – and left the pub for the night outside. Jellyman’s blood had filled the corner of the bar. It was red. Jellyman was GOOD. Jellyman would need a successor at the pub quite soon. Meanwhile, the Guardian was fourteen coffees into the night. A little jittery, but still lucid. Just. He’d been up since Monday morning. He was on another stakeout, this time sat on With A Smile’s roof. The wind up there would keep him awake if the coffee didn’t, he reckoned. A shadow crept up WAS’s immaculately-kept driveway. “Finally!” The Guardian was so bored by the last few nights, and so delirious from the lack of sleep, that he near enough shouted when he saw the wolf. Stopping in his tracks, the wolf glanced up and saw the Guardian. “What are you doing?” The wolf’s arms were aloft, palms pointing to the sky, shoulders shrugged. He was confused. He wanted WAS. WAS had stirred, and opened up the front door, a lit candle in his hand. No sooner had his night-capped head been seen to the wolf, it returned back inside. “Sh*t…” “Oi!” The wolf shouted. “Back out here! Now!” The Guardian leapt to his feet, screaming “Get out of heeeeerreeee!” The wolf raised an eyebrow. Losing his balance on the roof tiles, the Guardian tripped and rolled down the roof and down a storey onto the driveway. “This is pathetic,” said the wolf. “Will you just get out of here, you’re causing undue hassle. I’m not here for you, I’m here to make a WAS smoothie. Look,” the wolf pulled a juicer seemingly out of his fur around his hip. “Here’s how it’s going to go down. Bits of WAS will be going in there, and I’m going to plug it in. And then I’m going to drink it.” The Guardian stumbled up, holding his knee in agony. “Look mate, actually…” He was a little out of breath. “As it turns out, this is a wasted visit.” He extended a hand towards the wolf. The wolf obliged and steadied the Guardian. “Listen. I’m the Guardian, so you’re going to have to leave. That’s just how this whole thing works. So just… P*ss off, okay?” Forlorn, the wolf patted the Guardian on the back, resigned to defeat, and started to backpedal. He drifted back into the darkness, allowing the Guardian to let out something of a howl while he clutched his knee. The roof was a poor choice, even if WAS wasn’t. “Oh and that’s a juicer, not a smoothie maker!” The Guardian called back. “You could only juice WAS with that.” WAS opened his bedroom window and stuck his head out, anxious to hear what was being said about him. “Don’t worry about it WAS. I got this.” WAS hesitated a moment, and went back inside and closed his window. “You’d be left with watery humany juice and some pulp!” The wolf was still close enough he could hear this. "You sack of s***! They're very different appliances, juicer and-" The Guardian paused. He started mumbling. "I mean what kind of unbelievable d*** could confuse a juicer and smoothie maker? First he's running riot in the village, killing people at random, then I've got too pick up the pieces... Then I meet the guy and he's an absolute..." On his way home, the wolf went over the events again and again. Couldn’t he have actually put up a fight? Surely he could have tried to kill them both? “Why didn’t I just knock the sod out?” he wondered aloud. As he doubted himself more and more, the light from the soon-to-rise-sun was infiltrating the village air. The wolf was transforming back into his daytime self. As the fur, teeth and claws receded, the familiar sight of Diamond appeared. He kept walking and wondering, when all of a sudden… *SLICE* A knife slashed through Diamond’s clothes and skin. Scythed down from behind. A clean cut that made light work of the bomber jacket Diamond had on, and there was blood in there already. A dull thud to the back of the head was the last Diamond could remember before he woke back up in a pristine kitchen. “Wakey wakey.’ This was the voice of a wolf. Diamond was coming back round. “Now, I wanted you to be awake for this bit.” Diamond tried to speak but his mouth was gagged. He tried to manoeuvre his mouth free. He was practically screaming. “Mincey mincey!” The wolf was without feeling as he drove two long knives into Diamond’s eyes, and slowly fed his hand into an industrial mincer. “Every last bit of you’s going through this. I already have the potatoes boiling, and I’m going to make myself a quite delicious dinner. Shepherd’s pie… It’s been too long since my last real shepherd’s pie.” The wolf was having to force Diamond’s arm into the mincer. This took a lot of effort. Diamond drifted in and out of consciousness, awaking every 30 seconds or so only to vomit from the pain. “Any culinary tips, baker boy?” The wolf was gleeful. A troubling array of celebrity chef impersonations then followed. Almost two hours had passed before the wolf’s shepherd’s pie was ready, but the wolf announced to himself that this was “WELL WORTH THE WAIT.” Ravenous and manic, the wolf’s manner of eating had no rhyme or reason, he just dug in. As the wolf got fuller, it became clearer that something was amiss. “This shepherd’s pie isn’t overcooked, is it? What have I done wrong here?” The mince was dark and sticky. Going back into the kitchen, the wolf checked the chopping board and it dawned on him. The chopping board was coated in a film of black slime. The wolf had just accidentally taken one of his own. Diamond was EVIL. Daft Row had been wandering the forests surrounding the village for a few days now. No one had heard from him. Last night he fell into a ravine and broke his neck. He couldn't even be bothered to scream for help. Daft Row was GOOD. Daft Row was no real loss though. - Players: cthulhu - EVIL – Killed Night 2 Otter - GOOD – Killed Night 1 Meh! - GOOD – Killed Night 2 Diamond - EVIL (Confirmed wolf) – Killed Night 3 Cude>2< - EVIL – Lynched Day 1 Harrow Orn Squibba miked2006 sonofben Jellyman - GOOD – Killed Night 3 HeppyHornet24 merchandiseman41 simms - GOOD – Killed Night 1 The Voice of Reason - GOOD (Governor) – Lynched Day 2 nairobi hornet Norwayhornet - VERY GOOD – Killed Night 2 AshdonWFC wfcmatt darave8 - GOOD – Lynched Day 3 Optimistichornet WatfordTalk Cassetti’s Beard wfcmoog With A Smile fox in the box nornironhorn PhilippineOrn Daft Row - GOOD – Killed due to inactivity on Night 3 Oxhey Hornet steve harrow Abso Players remaining: 20 - I am at work from mid afternoon until 10pm tonight, so I won't be able to write up the dusk scene until late again. I will however close the village down as close to 8pm as I can, and write up the dusk scene as soon as possible when I'm done. Remember to vote or risk death.