Five floors, five presents

Who: Stop asking so many questions
Where: First to fifth floor
When: Very, very late/early

Tasks like these were never easy; the result of long hours and careful planning, but they were always fun. And knowing what this one knew now, about the rooming situation around the house and the personal relationships that reflected it, now was the perfect time for some fun. It was early, too early for any of the morning exercisers or even the manic residents to be out prowling the hallways, which meant that final preparations could be tended to. There were, after all, some things that just couldn't be explained in the waking hours.

They started in the kitchen, pilfering a roll of plastic wrap and mixing up a large pitcher of corn syrup and red food dye, then carefully ascended with their tools in tow. The plan was simple; five stops that started at the attic and ended back here, to dispose of the evidence, and the first was neatly tucked away at the end of the attic hall. Cortez, the nameplate said, and the figure didn't even pause before swinging the door open and walking in. They knew he wouldn't be here, that he'd taken to staying in Hannah's room lately, and had in fact planned on that fact. The man had earned this visit, but it would be a shame to have to escalate things by running into him now.

His room was empty though, aside from the tank of strange lizards and the wax replica of the man. It was the first piece of tonight's fun, and they could barely contain themselves before gloved hands dug into the wax, fingers prying through elaborate layers of wax clothing and skin heedlessly. Before long, the sculpture was a ruin; a pair of legs and a pelvis surrounded by an arc of debris on the floor, and a bundle of specific parts gathered on Cortez's bedspread.

They weren't gathered yet, though, this place wasn't finished yet. Moving to the wall above the bed, a latex-clad finger dipped into the corn syrup-blood and began to smear along the walls slowly, standing back finally to admire their handiwork. SHE'S MINE. I SAW. They smiled at the plain words, moving quick to the aquarium to grab one of the strange fish-lizards inside and crush it lifeless, then drop it on the ground. Drawing the bedsheet of replica parts closed, they left this room behind.

The fourth floor was silent and still as they moved down the stairs and almost reflexively tossed the wax heart from Cortez's room in front of Bekah's door, followed by a splash of corn syrup. They could hear her panicked, uncontrollable shrieks now and it was music. But it wasn't the goal here. No, that was behind the door whose plate read Gavin. The prankster was every bit as silent as the floor they visited, unsealing Gavin's door with a care and deftness that would've surprised people who 'knew' them, easing inside with slow steps. They ignored the soft breathing coming from the bed, creeping instead for the bathroom.

The work was delicate, and tricky in the necessary dark, but after a few minutes it was done. A simple trick was waiting; a loop of wire fitted around the very inner rim of Gavin's toilet, fed up under the back of the seat to connect to a nine volt battery. Hard to detect through the fog of sleep, until your dick got electrocuted. It was almost too funny to stay silent, but somehow they left Gavin to his peaceful dreams while they lasted, gathering their things and moving on.

Slipping into the third floor hallway, the figure didn't have to think long about who to torment here. Some of these people had been genuinely tortured, but just kept going. Others, however, sealed themselves away from even the chance of pain. This one intended to remedy that. Natalie had been locking her door for a while now, they knew as much from casual observation, but that was no real barrier. They had crept into much more secure places for much less pleasant reasons, after all, and if she knew as much? Natalie would be thankful for what she woke up to.

But that wasn't likely, which meant little either way as the figure busily set about pushing several sheets of plastic wrap flat along the floor by Natalie's bed, then pouring a slow spread of their fake blood across it. Not quite finished, they took the time to string the wax entrails from Cortez's statue along her dresser and desk, as well as fingerpaint a message for her to find. GREG SAW HIS BEFORE HE DIED. YOU WILL TOO.

Some part of them wondered if it was too much, if they would leave a clue, but they didn't wonder for long. They had been allowed here because of this sort of thing, after all, and it would be a crying shame to disappoint. Thoughts like those nearly had the figure whistling as they descended to the second floor and moved in a slow shuffle along the hallway, merrily taking the time to tuck severed wax fingers under each door they passed, not to mention leaving the head of the sculpture to stare at Kaori's door. If she was half as clever as the others here thought, she'd step carefully through each discovery that had been left tonight.

Which only left the first floor, and one last present. The bed sheet had been disposed of on the stairs, it wouldn't tell potential investigators anything after all. Outside Anna's door sat a pair of lungs in a pool of sticky 'blood' waiting to be discivered with a message smeared on the floor. HOLD YOUR BREATH, IT GETS WORSE. Satisfied and already eager to hear the distress spead from floor to floor come the morning, the perpetrator gathered up the remaining corn syrup and moved for the kitchen once again. With gloves in the disposal, the trail would be cold and dead, and the game could start all over again.