Kiari: *whistles* Here, Norma June! C’mere girl!
Nema: My goodness, show some respect! She’s not a dog, she’s a person.
xoxoAngiexoxo: She does eat dog treats, though.
Nema: I said she was a person, I didn’t say she wasn’t a weirdo.
musasgal: That's not so weird. They're crunchy. ... *looking around * What?
*Hime*: [hopeful] Maybe Norma June decided to give us a break and went home.
Dystopia: Doubtful. Normal June
loves singing the town anthem, almost as much as she loves bragging about being related to Nathaniel Cornwell.
Kay: I have an uncle who's related to George Washington. ... Or was that Denzel Washington?
salvete: I just wanna get on with this. I'm starving.
Velvet: Me too. Miss Chapman practically inhaled the food table.
Nephila: I hope we’re not here too late. I’d like to get home before the snow gets too bad. [looking around] But it is nice seeing what they’ve done to the town hall.
dragoness129: It is. I’m glad they decided to renovate the town. I hear after the library, they’re going to start on the post office.
Mageling: Good. Maybe they'll get rid of that alcove that rats like to hide in during the winter.
Xogizmoox: Awww, but they're cute. And it's fun to play in there.
Midian: Didn't you have to get a rabies shot three years ago?
Xogizmoox: Totally worth it.
Rochiel Silverfire: *pointing* Well whatever they do, I hope they decorate it better than this place. I really don’t understand modern art.
DivineHeart: [eyes growing] That’s… not modern art. Oh my god!
---
April: [reentering the community room] Well I don’t understand it. The woman’s over sixty, isn’t she a little old to be playing hide and seek?
Kristopher: Maybe she’s regressing. Norma June could have spontaneously entered a second phase of childhood, sometime after the fruit cups. I dare say if she slips further into regression, we’ll need to find someone to change her diapers.
April: Not it!
Mayor Barton: [interjecting] My grandfather was still in diapers during the great regression.
April:
Kristopher: I’m sure those were tough times, Randy.
Sheriff Hamilton: [she enters the room, looking agitated]
That was a fruitless search. I’m guessing no one else has seen her?
April: Not even a hint of her.
Miss Chapman: I stayed here and finished off these canapés. I think I’ve built up a tolerance to them.
Shane: Maybe she went outside for some reason.
Kristopher: Let’s hope not. It’s freezing out there and her coat’s still here.
Sheriff Hamilton: Well there’s only one way to find out. Dennis, you’re with me.
Officer Tate: Yes, Sheriff.
But before the two local authorities can commence their search, a panicked shout brings everyone gathered to their feet. Seconds later, Brian Owen, the town coordinator, bursts into the community room, his eyes filled with terror.
Brian: Oh my god! It’s Norma June, she’s dead! She’s been murdered!
Everyone: What?!
Brian: [frantic] In… in the Founder’s Museum. And not just her… salvete, Nephila, mageling, Dystopia, Velvet, and a
whole bunch of people who decided to check there!
Sheriff Hamilton: [rushing forward] Are you certain?
Brian: Yes, Sheriff! Go look for yourself. And that’s not the worst of it… [breathing heavily] Her eyes… Norma June’s eyes are gone!
[everyone gasps]
Brian: [looking almost sick] And there’s something else. It was written on the wall. It said… ‘People of Cornwell beware. Eyeless Silas has returned.’
A stunned silence settles over the room, a chill running through the blood of every Cornwellian in the town hall. Eyeless Silas: A name they all knew, but never expected to hear.
Sheriff Hamilton: [finally speaking up] I’m going to go check. Dennis, no one is to leave this room. Understood?
Officer Tate: Right, Sheriff. Not a soul.
Kristopher: Eyeless Silas?! Is this some kind of sick joke?
April: Poor, Norma June… Why would anyone do something like that to her?
Miss Chapman: Her singing wasn’t that bad.
Mayor Barton: [attempting to sound composed, but voice shaking] Let’s all sit and try to keep calm, folks. I’m sure Sheriff Hamilton has everything under control. … Why don’t we discuss something else? [pauses as he thinks] Mrs. Rand made an absolutely delicious peppermint cheesecake. Perhaps she’d like to tell us how it was made.
Kristopher: Are you kidding, Randy? Norma June is dead. Someone poked out her peepers, and you want us to swap recipes?!
Mayor Barton: [his demeanor cracking] Well I for one would be
very interested in knowing the recipe, Kristopher!
Mrs. Rand: It came from a box.
Kristopher: Well it’s not helping. Face it, Randy, we all know that you’re not that great in a crisis.
Mayor Barton: I am the elected official here!
Kristopher: Please, we only voted for you cause you look good on the website.
Kristopher: You handsome, handsome idiot.
Mayor Barton: [smiling] Yes, I am handsome.
Shane: Okay okay, we’re not solving anything by arguing. Mayor Barton is right, it would be best for us to keep calm. But maybe we can stick to different topics.
Sheriff Hamilton returns. Her face is stony, but there is urgency in her movements.
Sheriff Hamilton: [addressing the room] Alright, we’re going for a walk! I’m going to be escorting everyone to the police station. Officer Tate will remain here and make sure no one renters the building.
Miss Chapman: You want all of us to go out walking in the snow?! There’s something wrong with your brain, girl.
Sheriff Hamilton: [stoic] It’s a short walk, Miss Chapman. And we’re dealing with a homicide here, this is a crime scene. Plus… the killer may still be in the building.
Kristopher: Well, when you put it that way.
Leaving the warmth of the town hall, the people of Lake Cornwell make the somber walk toward the recently renovated police station. The snow and wind whips around them, but fortunately the building is only a block away.
Entering, the station is eerily quiet, playing on their fear. But the warmth and safety it offers is welcoming.
Sheriff Hamilton: I want everyone to stay here in the lobby. The phones are down right now, but we’re going to get hold of the state police as soon as we can. I’m heading back to the town hall, but when Officer Tate and I return we’re going to be taking some statements. [commanding] So no one is to leave. [she removes a walkie talkie from her belt] Dennis, come in. [no answer] Dennis, can you read me? [still the same] It’s probably the weather. I’ll return soon. You all remember what I said.
[Everyone agrees and Sheriff Hamilton exits]
April: Well this has been the worst secular, non-denominational, culturally inoffensive, all-inclusive, winter holiday that I can remember.
Brian: [still shaken] They’re not going to find a killer. They’re not gonna find anyone. How can you catch a ghost?
Kristopher: [rolling his eyes] Please. How old are you, Brian? There’s no such thing as ghosts and there’s no such thing as Eyeless Silas. The only phantoms here are the ghosts of our shattered hopes. Am I right? Anyone? … No, just me?
Brian: And why should we listen to the town pervert?
Kristopher: I am not the town pervert, Brian! I’ve explained plenty of times how I lost my pants that day!
Random NPC: Sorry, but could someone tell me who
EYELESS SILAS is?
April: Oh, Random NPC. That’s right, you’re new in town.
Kristopher: [sighing] Normally I wouldn’t indulge this kind of nonsense, but it seems we’re in need of some exposition. [clearing his throat] Ehem… So almost 200 years ago, Lake Cornwell was founded by Nathaniel Cornwell, and settled by him and a handful of families, whose descendents you can still find in town today. As legend goes, not too long after they established this as their home, a series of strange murders occurred. It caused panic throughout the small community, but eventually the culprit was caught; a deranged drifter known only by his first name, Silas. He was tried, convicted, and, on a snowy December day, put to death on the gallows. His hands were supposed to be tied, but they somehow came undone, and in a wild frenzy, he clawed at his face and poked out his eyes. … That should have been the end of it. But, cue spooky music, they say on darkened December nights, if anyone should be foolish enough to forge the snowy terrain, the ghost of Eyeless Silas returns to exact his revenge on the innocent people of Lake Cornwell, plucking their eyeballs from their sockets, and other kinds of bullshit.
Random NPC: Geez, now I’m almost sorry that I moved to
LAKE CORNWELL.
April: Where are you originally from?
Random NPC: Geez, now I’m almost sorry that I moved to
LAKE CORNWELL.
Shane: I think she ran out of things to say.
Brian: [to Kristopher] You didn’t see what I saw! It had to be Eyeless Silas!
Kristopher: And what proof is there?
The doors of the police station fly open! Officer Tate stumbles inside, bloodied and wild eyed.
Officer Tate: Everyone, run! … Hide!... Eyeless… Silas is coming! [he falls over dead]
Miss Chapman: Well, I don’t need further convincing.
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