The final battle was going to take place on the roof. Daphne thought it was a nice change of venue. The hotel could be a bit cramped despite its size. At the end of the day, one part of a labyrinth looked like any other part.
Of course, as she rounded the landing and started up the interior stairs toward the exit onto the roof, she went On-Screen.
When she had staged Logan's murder up here, she had done so mostly Off-Screen. That was rare enough; it meant she would probably have to explain his fate soon.
Finales were such terrible times for banal exposition, but this storyline had not gone as smoothly as she would have liked, and doing some final cleanup would be a welcome finishing touch.
Now that she was in the Finale, memories of past storylines were flooding her mind. Those blackmailers had somehow gotten the drop on her this time in a way they never had before. She sometimes struggled, sure, but this was different. There were multiple storylines, a considerable portion of them, where she managed to take out the random assortment of blackmailers before Second Blood or even earlier.
On several occasions, she had poisoned them all before the first body was discovered. Those storylines had been a cakewalk. This one had caused her to stumble, but only slightly.
She had been put in a time crunch when they had decided to kill Antoine and accelerate the storyline out of the Party Phase.
No matter. The past was the past.
She knelt down on the carpet right outside the exit door. She could hear the storm raging on the other side. She showed no fear, only a hunting instinct, a cleverness that could justify her tracking her prey all the way up here.
She ran her fingers along the carpet. It was moist. Someone with wet shoes had just come by here.
That was how she would explain it, maybe not out loud, but her biggest fans would put it together. She had followed the wet footprints of whoever was waiting for her on the other side of the door, whether it be Riley, Kimberly, or both.
Carousel was quite funny when it came to chases where multiple players were running toward the same place, but not together. Who got there first or last would all come down to Hustle and no other sort of logic. There was no wiggle room like with normal Chase Scenes.
She wasn't exactly sure how she stacked up on Hustle against Kimberly. It didn't matter. She had more experience.
She peeked through the window. Logan's body still lay in the rain, but the axe she had planted in it was missing. Now she knew for certain she was only the latest person to the party.
That didn’t faze her one bit. These players were arrogant enough to banter with her in hopes of a better score. She hoped to make that their final mistake.
It was just as well that they took the axe. Bloody kills were not her modus operandi if it could be helped. She might have a couple in a movie. The audience didn't always like her after a brutal killing, and it could be really difficult to tell what made one kill exciting and another shameful. Everything she did came down to audience appreciation.
It was like she had her own focus group whispering in her ears at all times. The customer was always right, after all.
She burst through the door, losing her fierce gaze and replacing it with a confused, tearful one. It would be lost on Riley, the player. Somehow, he had been able to take her love and throw it away like it didn't even matter. But he was also smart enough to know that his character would be conflicted and would not be ready to accept his new wife's hobby.
He would play his part.
Most of her grooms were so caught up in their love for her that they hardly even counted as players. Even after the truth was revealed, she was able to give them that perfect happiness, something they would never find anywhere else in Carousel or the many worlds, as the Narrators called them.
But Riley had resisted. She wanted to pin him down and get him to talk, to explain how he could just ignore their love. Even at the beginning of the storyline, he was so hesitant.
She thought he was just shy.
The rain fell on her like a heavy blanket. It was warm summer rain, like being reborn.
"Riley," she called out. "Please. You have to listen to me."
She probably sounded like a broken record now. Usually, a line like that would work. They always wanted to listen. They always wanted to believe that there was some secret reason for everything that didn’t involve Daphne being the bad guy.
Twenty feet away, through a haze of rain, she could hear something banging against a utility shed. It had been there earlier.
Patio furniture.
There usually was no patio furniture on the roof. She had been up here countless times. But here it was.
Who in their right mind would think that was a good idea?
Because of the storm, it had been chained up so that it wouldn't blow away, everything from tables to chairs to beach umbrellas.
Had she accidentally brought that into the storyline when she brought the storm? It would make sense that you'd need some environmental sound for the finale. You couldn’t have a storm where nothing blew away.
"You," a voice cried out behind her after she had walked a few steps.
It wasn't Riley. He was nowhere to be seen. It was Kimberly. She had found the axe, the oh-so-special axe.
It wouldn't matter. Carousel was reliable in a lot of ways. If Kimberly were really about to slay her, Carousel would want one last confrontation with the groom.
Kimberly might be able to avoid such a delay, but Daphne doubted it.
"I knew you were a problem from the beginning," Kimberly said. "You were just too nice. Too good. Too funny. Too in love."
So it would be a cat fight. Usually, that sort of thing was a Final Girl move.
"Too good for Riley?" Daphne asked. "I hope he isn't hiding around here to hear you say that."
"Too good to be true," Kimberly clarified.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
"You have me there," Daphne said with a shrug and a nod. "Guilty as charged."
She watched the way Kimberly moved sideways, encircling Daphne. Was that a strategy, or was she building up the nerve to charge in and attack?
Kimberly hadn’t held a weapon like that many times. Daphne knew. She held it more like a shield than an axe. It was held closely to her chest, as if she were afraid Daphne might steal it.
"It was you, wasn’t it?" Daphne said. "You were always the worm whispering in Riley’s ear. You were always the reason that he was out of arm’s reach. That he could never love me as much as he wanted to."
Bringing the meta into the story was a quick and easy way to tie a bow on a storyline. It made acting easier, too.
"I didn’t say anything to him," Kimberly said, playing off Daphne quite well. "If you feel that he didn’t trust you, it’s because you aren’t as good of a liar as you thought you were."
"No," Daphne said. "I am."
She was enjoying the energy. The rain had cleared a bit just on the roof. Carousel must have been having trouble getting good footage. She now had full visibility.
Kimberly would get one swing, and only one, and then Daphne would put her down quickly. What a shame. Hopefully, the audience would understand. They liked Kimberly, but they would have to get over that.
Off-Screen.
"What? Really?" Daphne asked, as if talking to the sky itself. "We were right in the middle of the final confrontation. Who did they even go Off-Screen to?"
"Probably Riley," Kimberly said, almost hesitant to speak to Daphne in such a meta manner.
"No. Riley is behind the patio furniture," Daphne answered.
Kimberly seemed caught off guard, if only for a second.
"Come on," Daphne added. "It’s the only place to hide around here."
Kimberly didn't respond, so Daphne began walking over toward the large stack of chained-up furniture, waving her letter opener.
"If he's not over here, you wouldn't mind me going and standing over by this utility shed, would you?"
Before she could get even halfway there, Riley stepped out from among the furniture.
The rain had messed up his haircut. That frustrated Daphne, but she soothed herself with the thought that the wedding had already passed.
"Well, if we're here," Riley said, "there must be someone else still alive."
"Exactly," Daphne said. "Who did we miss? Did Andrew survive?"
Her eyes glazed over as she stared at the red wallpaper and the script.
"There is another scene going on," she said. "Huh. I can't see much about it, hardly anything, actually, which means that Andrew must have set a trap, and his Savvy is pretty high. I'll have to figure that out after I'm done here."
Carousel might be able to film her killing Andrew and put it before this final battle when editing. It would all be okay.
"Well, I'm glad we got that out of the way," Riley said. But then he held up five fingers and jumped back into his hiding place behind the furniture.
"Five fingers? What does that mean?" Daphne asked. "Oh, right."
She quickly moved back to where she had been before she went Off-Screen.
Kimberly was still on her mark, ready, brandishing the fire axe threateningly.
"You look so ready to kill me right now," Daphne said. "Seriously, you're doing a great job."
"Thanks," Kimberly said under her breath, much less casually than Daphne had been speaking.
On-Screen.
"When are you going to admit the truth?" Daphne asked. "It's so obvious. You sabotaged our relationship because you are in love with Riley."
She let the tears fall to really sell it. It was a pity that the rain might wash them away.
"That is ridiculous," Kimberly said. "He literally married you today. You sabotaged your relationship with him by being a murderer."
"No," Daphne said, pointing an accusing finger. "He had his doubts hours before he knew it was me. I could see it in his eyes."
"Why are we even arguing about this?" Kimberly asked. "None of this matters. You just killed all of our friends!"
"Not Andrew," Daphne said. "He probably hasn't died yet."
"Stop making jokes! Stop acting so casual!" Kimberly screamed.
"Wow. You really are a bridezilla," Daphne responded.
Off-Screen.
"What the heck is going on!" Daphne screamed. "They're cutting up our final battle! What is Carousel thinking?"
Riley stepped back out from behind the patio furniture.
"We've got like fifteen minutes," he said.
"Fifteen minutes?" Daphne asked. "What in the world could be happening with Andrew that he needs to be On-Screen for fifteen minutes straight? He must not have gotten infected as much as I thought. That's what I get for using a new poison without testing it first."
Poison lost its potency the more people died from it. Perhaps Carousel wasn’t willing to let her kill so many people from one trap.
"Even then," Riley said, "Fifteen minutes?"
"You can never tell. Sometimes, Carousel gets establishing shots right in the middle of things. Maybe the police are on their way in airboats or something, and it needed footage of it. Maybe it's trying to tell us something."
Riley walked toward the edge of the building.
"The water's not rising any more than it already has. It's not like there's another dam that can break," he said.
"If we have fifteen minutes, can we just go inside?" Daphne asked. "Would you two be okay with that?”
"No," Kimberly said. "I'm not going anywhere with you. You're a killer."
"Not Off-Screen," Daphne protested. She glanced at Logan’s body. "Well, maybe for him it was Off-Screen, but usually not Off-Screen."
"I was about to say," Riley said. "How did Logan get up here when you killed him down by his office on the first floor?"
Daphne breathed a deep breath.
"I brought him up here to try and set him up to look like one of the blackmailers. I even stole some of their cash and put it in his pockets. But I doubt we're even going to get to establish that On-Screen, so it was just a waste of time," she said. "Wait, how do you know where I killed him?"
He hesitated before answering.
"The Dailies just triggered not ten minutes ago. Carousel basically showed me everything. At this point, it doesn't really matter," he finally answered.
Daphne laughed.
"The Dailies is the one where you get to watch all of the footage, right?"
"Yep," Riley answered. "But only at the end of the day."
"Well, that's what you get for using it on a storyline that only lasts one day," she said.
"Ida Rae was supposed to last three days," he replied.
"I suppose I owe you an apology then," she said.
"A few of them," he said.
They continued talking like this, awkwardly, almost professionally, while the time ticked down.
"Back in real life, I already had the cash and was halfway across the state by this time," Daphne said after they had started asking her about herself. She so rarely got to talk about her real self.
"What? No honeymoon?" Kimberly asked.
"No. And that was a disappointment. But unfortunately, my real groom had been informed about my identity before I could kill all of the blackmailers. In my defense, I wasn't as good at it back then, and I didn't have movie magic. I basically just had to lock up the doors and burn the whole lodge down."
"Well, I'm sorry things didn't work out," Riley said.
Daphne looked into his eyes and could see that he was processing a lot of the same emotions that her beloved had in real life.
What was his name again? Why would Carousel give her so much but deprive her of the names of one of her favorite husbands?
"He was so in love with me when the poison took hold. He didn't even notice," Daphne said. "He just drifted away, happy and loved in my arms. He had gone through a lot, but it was over. I don't think any man has ever loved me as much as he did."
Riley didn't respond. He looked contemplative. Daphne had the urge to run to him and hold him, but there was no way she could kill him Off-Screen, so that would be a waste.
"I've been meaning to ask," she said. "How did you know that something was off? Most of my grooms were never able to take their eyes off me. They melted in my hands, and they loved me in their dying breaths. But not you. Why not you?"
Riley looked up at her. He stared for a long time.
"'My parents' death isn't my fault,' isn't that what you said to me?" he said, but he stopped himself.
He threw up five fingers and jumped back behind the patio furniture.
"Damn it, just as we were getting somewhere," Daphne grumbled.
She found her mark, and Kimberly, ever the professional, was ready.
But the On-Screen didn't come. Not in the way they were expecting.
It came with the door to the stairway opening.
On-Screen.
Daphne turned. Standing in front of her as they filed out of the stairway and took their places, posted up in the rain, were the blackmailers.
Four blackmailers.
"Wait, how…" she started to ask as she surveyed them.
Hadn't she already killed them?
The big one was there. Small bloody holes poked throughout his shoulders and neck. Hadn't he died paralyzed and drowning?
The cook was there too. But she was tied up and dropped into the flooded basement through the laundry chute. There was no way she had survived that. Daphne had been doing this for too long to have screwed that one up.
The woman who had posed as her cousin's wife was there, absolutely enraged. What was her name, Desiree?
And of course, Desiree's husband, the leader of the gang, was there too.
Silver Fox. Emmett.
"Hello, Daphne," he said. "You really should have paid the blackmail."