Chapter 3: Pride

FURIOUS

And in one last breath, the speakers boomed with the words, "I hope you enjoy your stay!" and the recording ends, needle only left creating a scratching sound upon the vinyl slowly mixing into white noise as silence dawned over everyone.

A cool breeze blew in from the opened windows as Roscoe was the first one to break the stillness, "I believe that will be all for luncheon, yes?"

"I-uh, yes. We should all head back for now..." Victoria suggested, shoulders quivering with fear.

"And what?" Emily yelled as she stood up from her seat, moving the chair so fast it had lost its stance and fell over to the floor. She strided to the center of the room and paced back and forth as she said, "You suggest we just head back to our rooms and wait? Wait for us to be killed off one by one?

"You heard the speakers, only one of us will survive! Whether that will be true or not, there is a madman amongst us and I will not risk my life for any of this mumbo jumbo! I would rather stay here where I can see all of you, make sure I don't get killed, and I suggest you all do the same as well!"

Everyone was nerved. It wasn't like she was lying but the idea was too much. What if it was all just a really bad joke. Talk about humor. They had absolutely no reason to kill each other. For all they care, they could all survive and leave the island together if they just don't hurt each other. Afterall, what would they even get out of killing the other?

"Unless, there was a sixth person hidden on the island." Victoria muttered mostly to herself, but it grabs the doctor's attention anyway. "What was that, dear? A sixth person?" It was only a fragment of thought but the others seemed to have taken a coin for it.

"What are you suggesting?" Emily raised a brow at her. Victoria shifted uneasily in her seat at this, soft and quiet rustles of her dress as she slides along the velvet cushion, moving carefully, she stood up to explain in that habitual teacherly manner of hers, "You see, M.F.C., he could have thought that we were too smart." Victoria started.

"He must have put into consideration that idea Emily had previously suggested: the probability that we won't harm one another; we can all leave here safely granted we have everything we basically need like food and clothing long as we don't succumb to his petty mind games and so with that, his wants would have been at loss, no one would get hurt - hence the question, what if he is here? Or perhaps he sent someone else?" Victoria raised.

"Hidden somewhere within the island, waiting for the perfect moment to strike and kill us, or perhaps sever the damage of what little trust we already have for each other so to speak. If we all stay in this room, that could lure him out, sure, but that would also give him an easier way to finish us all at once. - Granted that hypothetically there is an extra person on the island." Victoria explained with the slightest glint of hope in her heart that they just might believe in what she would allude next.

"And that's why I suggest we all head back to our rooms for now." She ended.

Victoria's on-the-spot analysis shocked everyone, leaving them baffled. It seemed plausible but nonetheless, nothing was sure yet. However, Emily still wasn't convinced and she wanted everyone to stay right where she could see them. Emily wanted control and maybe this was just out of fear, but this situation was most certainly not what she had planned out.

Emily had started to get filled up with rage. "Oh, M.F.C. this, M.F.C. that! Who in the world is M.F.C., anyway!?" Emily said, full of distress, her words sparking a hint of shock in the hearts of the other guests.

Adam Roscoe was trying to let what Victoria had initially insinuated a mere few seconds ago - that someone else could be on the island with them - sink in, until it suddenly occurred to him that perhaps it was one of the guests, and as Emily had let her words of frustration out, something occurred within the aged mind of Adam Roscoe. A thought.

"Wait-" he said. "Who are you?" the doctor asked, eyes staring intently at Emily.

"What are you talking about? You already know. I'm Emily Von Geisler and-" "No, you're not." "Excuse me?" Emily retorted, raising the pitch of her voice just slightly bit higher in an offended manner, her right hand dramatically planted across her chest as she looked at the doctor with eyes, sparkling with irrate.

"What do you mean I'm not-" "Emily Von Geisler, a young heiress of such class would never speak in such a tone. She would have stayed composed and-" the doctor said in a calm but suspecting voice, but abruptly coming to a halt with no warning. Everyone's attention was now set on the tall 30-something-year-old man, round glasses crookedly resting on the bridge of his nose as he slowly brings his hand up to fix it, his naturally thick and curly brown hair atop his head - disheveled, deep set eyes staring straight at Emily so piercingly as if to say that he'd had her all figured out.

"Who-" Samantha managed to let out in a small squeak but was immediately interrupted by the doctor as he once again picked up where he left off. "A person as rich as a Von Geisler could never be you, pacing around back and forth, thinking-" "What are you suggesting then?" Damon asks. "That she's an imposter?" "Precisely." was his answer, firm and proud, the doctor stood up from his seat and strode across the room so to face the now furious 'Emily Von Geisler'.

"Walking a few five steps, then turning around as if they were to hit a wall if they continued, then taking another few five steps and repeating the routine - a rich heiress could never develop such habit. In a mansion, if she were to be restless, she could have all the space to walk in, not just a mere few steps." He stated.

"Such habit could only be developed by a person who lived in a tight space or stayed in one for a long time, like perhaps, you know... a cell?

"or something like such of the matter." the doctor concluded, his voice sounding so sarcastically innocent, eyeing Emily down harder as if intimidating her and the look of horror on Emily's face only dared to prove him right; and a cocky smirk finds its way to play on the doctor's lips.

"Yeah well- ugh! Fine, so what if I'm an imposter? I admit that I'm not the real Emily but are you suggesting that I'm M.F.C.? What evidence do you have against me, huh?" the imposter raised, not even denying her true identity. You'd give yourself out that easily? - Roscoe thought. - You must be trying hard to gain our trust.

The doctor only remained calm like how he had been for the past moments as he continued to explain exactly why he'd pinpoint such accusation. "Your lie was one thing," he said, "but you've also been behaving in a very suspicious manner." "Wha-" "You knew who I was when we met at the dock but I didn't even recognize you!

"Sure, you could have read about me from the news or such, so I let that slide, but then later you arrived at the dining area first, before anyone else did, resting so calmly on your rocking chair - waiting."

Wait, how did he know which one of us arrived before the other? - Victoria's thoughts had wandered, - Roscoe arrived after both Emily and I, so how could he deduct who came first? - her heart slowly becoming vigilant of the doctor.

Adam Roscoe only continued in his one sided argument, "and you kept demanding that the recording be stopped before it started to explain the sins of the real Emily." he said.

"You seemed rather relaxed upon realizing it wasn't about your real identity, I presume, so I'd understand why you seemed so. However, if you were to reveal your real identity to us so fast like that then why bother hurriedly looking anxious and queasy after noticing our stares, as if you had almost forgotten that you were just putting up an act to "conceal" the real you? - that part doesn't make sense now.

"And furthermore, you are also the only one that keeps leading us by suggestion to certain things we'd probably not want - you previously pointed that we all stay here and for what? So we could all be trapped?" The doctor explained.

"When you said the name Mariano Flores Cape, you had some sort of bad accent, you know? And that really emphasized something." he said, evident suspicion in his still unceasing.

The entire room was quiet, as if time had stopped right then and there and no one dared to interrupt the professional medic speak in with such charisma as he continued to suspect the person, "Mariano Flores Cape. He doesn't exist." he said with smite and a hint of sureness in his oddly soothing and cool voice amidst the silence.

"I absolutely don't remember anyone with the name and I bet none of you do too." the doctor declares, making eye contact with everyone in the room. "In fact, I bet the twins haven't even seen their employer yet!" he said, look straight towards the twins. Both seemed uneasy and guilty, hands shaking as Damon breaks into a cold sweat and Samantha only dares to tighten her hold onto her twin's arm.

They nodded and shakily answered, "Yeah, we were just desperate for a job bu-" "And furthermore," the doctor continues, selfish of the spotlight, "Just take a few letters off of the name and you get, (Maria)no (Flores)es-Cape!" Everyone gasps and gapes at this sudden revelation as they let this new information sink in deep into their minds. Hearts threatening to falter and legs growing weak, it had only been the beginning of their first day on the island and what is this?

Roscoe scoffs at their reaction as if to say "what incompetence".

"It was honestly a simple puzzle" the doctor mentions, pride slowly glowing from his eyes, "and I'm surprised none of you have caught on yet." he said, "But in all honesty though, I would love to counter what M.F.C.'s name suggests, so I say we all head back to our rooms and wait till dinner.

"I'm a skeptical guy and there's no way I'm letting any of you decide if whether I get out of this island or not." the doctor ended as he successfully - no, more like forcefully convinced everyone in the room, leaving no air for interjection, and whether it was out of respect, or out of fear, everyone followed suit.

God forbid but not a single soul wasn't taken aback. Whether Emily's imposter was indeed M.F.C. Or not, no one knows; but if there was one thing they'd be sure of, it was that - they all just wanted to hide. They all just wanted to leave, as if this whole thing was nothing but a sick dream, and they would all individually wake up from this nightmare and proceed to live their normal lives again - but it wasn't. This was real life, and that's what made everything else scarier in their heads.

After the his suggestion, Roscoe calmly walked past Emily and headed for the door, towards the hallway, and to his room. Victoria had followed almost closely behind and the twins hurriedly walked out as well.

The imposter was left in the room, speechless. She couldn't comprehend what she had just faced - the accusation. She didn't know what to do. She had a massive headache and she noticed that the twin servants had left a bucket of ice on the metal food cart that they came in with earlier. She grabbed an unused glass, approached the cart and picked off a few cubes of ice and into her own glass.

As the person Emily truly wasn't, this imposter was a drinker. She thought a few sips of rum would help her calm her nerves so she headed for the table and poured some rum in her glass and in just a few gulps, she had already finished hers, clean. Another round after the other and it all summed up to five.

After five rounds of rum, she felt tipsy and somewhat sleepy. She had finished her glass empty and decided to take a seat by the fireplace, only to feel herself succumbing to the very inviting slumber she had induced upon her self.

As she found a comfy spot on her chair, she had lost her grip on the glass, making it fall to the ground, breaking and shattering to a thousand tiny pieces. Her eyelids had readied to give up as she felt rest circulating all over her body. She drifted off into her peaceful land of dreams and for once, never had this 'Emily' ever felt nor thought that the idea of death would be so inviting, unknowing she was never going to feel what tomorrow might have been like.

***

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