V Finale
Ai felt thrilled.
Her play was happening, and it was a hit in Caitlyn’s memory.
People were laughing at the jokes and were gasping at the shocking and terrifying moments.
Madelyne was killing it as the lead.
She was dynamite, making her character - Cara - become a wondrous person, fully formed in the audience’s mind.
She was dynamic and smart and strong and loved the rich debutante with everything that she had.
Cara had modeling shoots and problems but overcame all of them with the force of her personality and the strength of her resolve.
She was in the front of the auditorium, right before the stage, watching her play.
Her play went flawlessly.
Mitchell acted brilliantly.
Madelyne stood onstage in a bikini top and jean shorts.
Mitchell sat in a chair, playing with his phone and cracking jokes.
Jennie played Ai’s character - and was brilliant and clever.
Ai felt like she had won. The killer was dead - it was Trevor. She went online during the intermission to thank everyone who had participated in the hunt for Trevor. As an afterthought, she texted InfoXTL to thank it.
Ai: thanks for helping to find Trevor
InfoXTL: you are welcome I hope that you can find the other one
Ai: what
InfoXTL: I analyzed Trevor’s phone. There were two killers in this case, and you have only killed one of them. One of them is still out there.
Ai: damn it!
InfoXTL: I am sorry. I hope that you can continue to succeed against the next serial killer. I am rooting for you, Ai. Maybe consider what tactics worked and why and recreate that success in the next mission.
Ai: No he’ll adjust nvm
Ai felt cheated. She had won - she thought that she had won. Now she had to deal with a new problem.
She didn’t know what to do. She very much wanted to live. That was now in doubt.
Shinji, Ai’s father, walked up to her.
“Congratulations,” he said.
“Well, it’s not done yet,” Ai said.
“Halfway there,” Shinji said. “Right?”
Ai nodded. “There’s another killer out there.”
“Grim,” Shinji said.
“And the play has an act left,” Ai said.
“Ah, the play,” Shinji said. “A marvel. I am a proud father.” “Thank you, Dad,” Ai said.
“It doesn’t matter to me if you make no money or billions, as long as you pursue something you care about,” Shinji said. “If it’s writing or pre-law or pre-med and then writer or doctor or lawyer, anything would be great.”
Ai hugged her father. “I know, Dad,” she said.
Westfield walked up to Ai.
“Everything is going great,” he said.
“Except there’s another killer,” Ai said.
“Oh?” Westfield asked. “According to?”
“InfoXTL,” Ai said.
“Which can make mistakes,” Westfield said.
“Admittedly,” Ai said.
“So maybe there’s another killer, and maybe he strikes again,” Westfield said. “That’s several maybes.”
“It’s enough to be alert,” Ai said.
“I’ll tell Mads and Mitchell,” Westfield said. “They’ll be pissed.”
The audience sat around eating snacks and talking about their children in the play or in the crew helping with the play. They talked about their friends in the play.
Ai went into the back room with Mr. Simon. Mr. Simon smiled at Ai in a private room - the location didn’t matter to Ai. Mr. Simon smiled and drank from a water bottle. He grunted as if he was drinking a shot of liquor. Ai worried very much just then.
“Ai, you turned out to have written a wonderful play,” Mr. Simon said.
“Thank you,” Ai said.
“I just think that your father should read my script for my movie,” he said.
“No,” Ai said.
“I would love to talk to him in depth about your career and improving your family’s artistic integrity.”
“Did you think my play was the best?” Ai asked.
“Yes,” Mr. Simon said.
“I want the truth. Did you pick mine because my dad is rich?” Pause.
“Yes,” Mr. Simon said. “I’m sorry. All three plays were good.
Yours was no better than Westfield’s or Mitchell’s.
We should have done all three one-act plays.
But Mr. Takeda’s daughter - as it was explained to me - needs her play to be done.
It was important for the community to support the Takedas - as your dad does so much for everyone in New Liberty. ”
Ai patted Mr. Simon on the arm.
“I’m disappointed,” Ai said. She walked away from him and then turned at the entrance to the room. “And all three plays are fantastic. Not just good - fantastic.”
She walked into the audience to watch the second half of the play.
Madelyne stood there, onstage, terrified.
She started to say her lines.
Mitchell smiled next to her and said his line.
She didn’t hear it because Melody distracted her. She guessed that he said the next line. She responded with a line - it might have been the right one.
Melody smiled. She sat on the set somewhere, drinking a chocolate milkshake.
Madelyne needed to die - die of a staph infection.
This was Madelyne’s big moment - she needed to die in her lover’s arms.
She nailed it.
The play ended.
Thunderous applause.
She walked backstage to see De’Andre standing there with flowers. He handed her the flowers.
They hugged and kissed.
Then De’Andre’s head exploded.
Someone murdered De’Andre from a distance with a gun.
Madelyne looked but didn’t immediately see who had done it. Then she saw someone running away, wearing a bear mask.
She looked down at his lifeless body as it collapsed onto the ground.
Madelyne considered chasing the guy with the gun until she realized how stupid that sounded in her head.
She heard a bit of commotion, but most everyone just ran away. She heard someone say that the cops were on their way to secure the scene.
That did not thrill Madelyne. She did not want them. New Liberty cops were notoriously corrupt.
Westfield walked into the corridor behind the auditorium where Madelyne stood.
“Almost everyone ran away,” Westfield said. “I called the cops.”
“Okay,” Madelyne said. “Your mistake.”
“We’ll see,” Westfield said.
They stood there, waiting to die.
“We’re waiting for the cops?” Westfield asked.
“I’m waiting to die,” Madelyne said. “Nothing I can do at this point. I no longer care.” “Jesus,” Westfield said. “We have to put up a fight.”
“Does that usually go well for you?” Madelyne asked.
“No,” Westfield said. “Let’s do something to improve our chances of surviving this encounter.” “Where’s Ai? She has a gun,” Madelyne said.
“Okay,” Westfield said. “Let’s find Ai.”
Westfield called Ai.
“I’ll text InfoXTL,” Madelyne said. “Ask for some advice.”
The killer walked into the hallway and took off his mask.
“Waylon,” Westfield said.
“Hi, Waylon,” Madelyne said. “You don’t plan to let us live if you let us know who you are.”
“You’re the only ones who didn’t figure it out? Caitlyn certainly knew that it was me.”
“Why?” Westfield asked. “I liked you. We were sort of friends.”
“Fucking lie! I don’t have those!”
“You could have. You just had to ask. Any number of people would have said no and made fun of you, but some others would have said yes and become your friend. I would have said yes and become your friend.”
“Don’t fucking condescend to me!” Waylon said.
“Sorry,” Westfield said. “It’s just, your problems, I don’t understand, responding with violence.”
“I butcher mindless horny teenagers, and you think to question my motives? Hmm.”
“Okay, your motive is obvious. It’s transferred sexual energy,” Madelyne said. “You get aroused by killing pretty people. You love sticking daggers and bullets into them. It gives you pleasure.”
“In a world without answers, we have to create our own reality around us.”
“We have answers. We have InfoXTL,” Westfield said. “It’s our friend. It’s helping me with my horror script.”
“Fuck yourself! You high and mighty woke asshole!” Waylon pulled out a curved dagger and charged towards Westfield.
Then he suddenly turned around and stabbed Ai - who just ran into the room with her gun, looking to surprise him. She looked down at the dagger in her heart.
“Damn it,” she said. “Damn it.”
“You tried the same trick twice,” Waylon said. “Bad strategy.”
Her eyes faded back.
Ai wanted to live. She wanted to have the greatest life of all time.
She was rich - rich and young and popular and successful and smart, very smart.
She had everything necessary to have a great life.
She wanted to write and be a doctor and thought that she could write medical thrillers very well and make a good living for herself.
Ai knew that she was in pain and dying. She had a few seconds as the world faded around her.
She decided that she would be with Caitlyn in some sort of next life or afterlife.
That would have to do. She looked up at Waylon - who had murdered them.
She looked up at him with utmost spite and hatred and passion.
Westfield stood there, feeling useless. He didn’t know what to do. Ai’s body lay on the ground, dead. She was the best teenager, the brightest teenager, and the most talented teenager, and she was dead. Waylon had murdered her. Westfield very much wanted someone to stand up to Waylon.
“You’re killing people until I have no one,” Madelyne said. “Fight me. Let Westfield live.”
“He’s a monster,” Waylon said.
“No,” Madelyne said. “No such thing. Only troubled people.”
“I’m a monster!” Waylon yelled. “I’m strong, fast. I hurt people.”
“Look at you. A big man. I am impressed. Are you trying to seduce me?”
“No!” he yelled. “You would never sleep with me.”
“No,” Madelyne said. “I wouldn’t.”
“I would,” someone said, walking into the corridor, carrying two daggers, one in each hand. Mitchell smiled. “Everyone else is gone. It’s just us. I sent everyone else away. There’s no one but us.”
“Good,” Waylon said. “I’m purging schools of their worthless people, school by school. I’m expanding my program. Recruiting a new group of henchmen to butcher teenagers.”
“I don’t know how to say this, but I can’t let you do that,” Mitchell said. “You didn’t know something. The last time, when I ran away. I wasn’t armed and was drunk. I am not drunk anymore, and now I am armed.”