Intro
The wonderful world of Salem is a mystical place, full of very good people, also very evil people. Some are there for the money, some are there for genocide, and some are there to take back what was rightfully theirs. But we'll focus on one person in the Town of Salem who is not like the rest. That person is the Serial Killer.
The Serial Killer during the day claims to be the best doctor. He can mend any injury, heal any wound. But at night, he's a well-oiled killing machine, wanting to kill all, no matter status, threat, or kindness. He creeps to a person's house each night to "protect" them. Is he sincere with his claim?
All tremble in fear. Who may be next? Is it me? Only the Serial Killer ever truly knows who's next.
But what happens when he's caught? How will he defend himself? Will he even be caught? You'll find out.
Target #1
The Serial Killer knocks on the door to an odd-looking house. He decided that the odd ones should be killed first, a smile creeping on his face.
"May I help you?" a woman asked. She had a peculiar look to her, a look that's hard to place. She looked like a regular woman, the kind you would expect to find in a family picture, with a husband and a couple of children.
"I am the Doctor." the Serial Killer said. "May I come in?"
The woman hesitated. She obviously didn't want visitors. Why? "Sure, why not. Come on inside."
To the Serial Killer's delight, he had made it inside.
The Serial Killer walked into the house. It was very... strange. Knick-knacks here, knick-knacks there, and an assortment of bottles of liquid and powder. What were these used for?
"Oh yes, I forgot to set up my supplies." the Serial Killer said. "Be right back."
He went back to the front door, and next to it he laid an assortment of different tools of the trade for Doctors. But there was one thing bizarre about the collection. A worn out dagger, with brown stains on it, which appear as blood. Why would this be here? Amputation?
He came back into the room. But the lady was nowhere in sight. Where could she be?
"Ma'am... You still al-, home?" the Serial Killer called, a smile crossing his face from the mistake.
"Coming!" the woman's voice responded. Moments later she came out of the room. She looked a bit paler like she exerted herself. Why was that?
"What were you doing?" the Serial Killer asked, suspicious.
"I was... cleaning the basement!" the woman responded, looking for excuses. "Yes, I have to reach to sweep the... don't worry about it. It took the wind out of me!"
"I have a hard time believing that..." the Serial Killer exclaimed.
"Well then," the woman replied, "you don't have to believe me, but I'm telling the truth."
Looking at the woman, then the bottles of substances and ingredients, the Serial Killer thought, 'Now or never, I have to kill her NOW. Otherwise, she may poison me, and then I'm dead.'
As she turned away, the Serial Killer raced to the front to grab the worn dagger, sped into the other room and lunged.
The Serial Killer was flung back by a mysterious barrier.
"Who... Who are you?!" the Serial Killer gasped, eyes crazy.
"Oh, so you are against the Town, I say?" the woman said. "I'm the Witch, and with me, we can win together!"
"But I don't want you to win..." the Serial Killer hissed, "I want you to die. Everyone must die."
"Oh well, suit yourself." the Witch exclaimed. "Work with me or not, someday you will do my bidding."
Racing out of the door, clumsily putting away his doctor supplies, he bolted to his house.
What he didn't realize is that the worn dagger he uses accidentally fell to the floor.
...
The Investigator is taking a nightly stroll when he sees a worn dagger laying on the ground.
"My, my, my, who could this be?" the Investigator asked himself. He thought of bringing it home with him, but he already knew who it belonged to.
The Serial Killer.
He decided to run an experiment. He would see if the Serial Killer took this back. He would be watching to see who picked it up.
'You genius!' The Investigator thought happily, 'this is a truly genius plan.'
Target #2
The Serial Killer knocks on the door to a man's house.
He had left the dagger on the place that the Investigator because he wasn't dumb. It was a trap.
The man is known for his chalice, political leadership, and caution, and is very good at his job, though no one really knows what role he plays in the Town. He looks about in his sixties, with an interesting looking hat, a tall hat with a red stripe, a blue suit with dark blue stripes and jeans. He had his slippers on for comfort.
The elderly man doesn't realize that this will be his last night alive.
"How may I be of service?" the elderly man asked, clearly busy with something. But what?
"I am the Doctor, and I am here to protect you." said the Serial Killer. "May I come in?"
"Of course, would you like a refreshment?" the elderly man asked politely.
"Yes, I would like that." the Serial Killer replied.
The elderly walked away while the Serial Killer readied his equipment for his doctor duty. Is it for that purpose though?
The elderly man came back moments later with a teapot of tea and some cups.
"Come and sit." the elderly man invited, pouring tea into the Serial Killer's cup. "Care for a sugar cube?"
The Serial Killer nodded his head, and a sugar cube was put into his cup. But something strange happened while that was being done...
The Serial Killer saw images of... not good things, to be frank. He imagined himself stabbing this kind elderly man in the hand, into the heart, imagining the heart get sliced, and other incomprehensible things, layering over one another, giving the Serial Killer a massive headache.
Then, as fast as it started, it stopped.
"Something wrong?" asked the elderly man, confused and worried.
"Yes, I am fine." the Serial Killer responded. "So, where were we?"
"Well, we haven't got to have a conversation at all." the elderly man replied. "So, you are the best doctor in Salem I've heard, correct?"
"Yes, I have been told that." the Serial Killer replied, sipping on his tea, which was a bit too hot, but bearable.
"Well, I guess I'll trust you with this secret then."
The Serial Killer's curiosity peaked. What could this secret be?
"If you are truly a doctor," the elderly man continued. "I believe this secret can hopefully help out all the good people of Salem, and bring down all the evildoers! I am the Mayor of Salem."
The Serial Killer's killer instincts kicked in. He was in front of the one person that could tear him down. He was in front of the one person that could end his career, even his life. This is the one person who was the top priority for killing right now.
"Excuse me for a moment," the Serial Killer said anxiously, really trying to keep his cool before the Mayor could do anything about his strange behavior, "I must go to the men's room."
He raced out of the room to the supplies laid out by the front door and grabbed a pair of scissors because the peculiar looking knife with dark brown blood stains on it was absent. He needed to plan his next attack, but it was too late to think of a strategy.
The Mayor was right behind him.
"I say," the Mayor said, confused, "what are you do-?"
Before the Mayor could react, the Serial Killer lunged at him, stabbing him in the neck. A crooked smile on his face. A smile that you have when you did something wrong, but are happy about it anyway. It's a smile of someone truly evil. It's the smile of a Serial Killer.
"What..." the Mayor sputtered, but it was too late.
The Mayor lay on his floor...
Dead.
"I will have to clean myself off." the Serial Killer said, crooked smile still on his face. "Might as well use his bath. Not like the Mayor's going to use it!" He laughed. Not a good, jolly laugh.
He cleaned himself in the bath, clothes on went home and tried to get as much sleep as he could before the daily charade began.
Target #3
Ready for another target, the Serial Killer heads to another house. He thinks that the person in that house may be a danger to him, so he must take him out. Not that it mattered if this person was, he would kill them anyways. He smiled.
The Serial Killer watched to see if the Investigator would grab his knife to research.
Turns out, the Investigator did.
Racing across the trial center, he lunged at the Investigator with a pair of scissors and stabbed him in the back. The pair of scissors that he used on the Mayor.
"How... Did you know about my..." the Investigator sputtered. But, as for the Mayor, it was too late.
The Investigator laid on the ground.
Dead.
Not saying a word, but a smile on his face, he grabbed the worn dagger and went to his target's house.
He knocked on his target's door.
"Not having company!" a low male voice yelled.
"I am the Doctor." the Serial Killer called back. "Can I please come i-?"
"Take one step into my house and I'll blast your head off." the man responded.
A little bewildered, the Serial Killer thought. He's probably dangerous to him, but why so anxious? And why would he shoot a good guy with a gun?
Well, he had to take him out anyways.
Looking around the house to see if any windows were open, he saw one on the other side of the house. He crawled in it to see a kitchen.
This kitchen looked like most kitchens looked, even the Serial Killer's. It had an oven, a cauldron, a table, ingredients, and other assortments.
But where was the man?
Creeping out of the kitchen, he saw the man, looking around anxiously, as if he saw anyone, he would kill them.
The Serial Killer hid behind the table. He didn't get a good look, but he knew that he had his black hair slicked back and he wore a leather vest.
And he had a shotgun in his hand.
The Serial Killer has to be fast if he wants to kill him. He would pounce before the Veteran could shoot him.
3...
2...
1...
NOW!
He ran in the room and pounced the Veteran. The Veteran shot, but missed the Serial Killer. The Serial Killer stabbed the Veteran in the neck.
"How... did you..." the Veteran sputtered. But it was too late.
The Veteran laid on the ground.
Dead.
[The Jailor]:
On his way to his next victim, the Serial Killer strode confidently. He had come so far, and he wasn't even suspected... was he? No, probably not.
He was just to his next victim's house when a deep man's voice sounded behind him.
He handcuffed the Serial Killer.
"You're coming with me."
He was walked into the Jailor's house and thrown into the only jail cell. Three feet by three feet, it was made with boring gray bricks and it was cramped.
"So," the Jailor said, "Who are you?"
"I am the Doctor," the Serial Killer lied, "And you are?"
"As you may have guessed by now, I am the Jailor." the Jailor replied. "How can I be sure to trust you?"
"Because I am a very talented doctor, and I have helped many people." the Serial Killer exclaimed with pride.
"Reports say otherwise." the Jailor said matter-of-factly. "Reports say that you haven't visited anyone to 'help' them. Reports also say that they may have seen you stabbing someone in the Trial Center last night, and the Investigator was found dead the next day with a stab wound in him. Is this correct?"
"And your reports are?" the Serial Killer asked.
"Other jailed suspects that are now confirmed to me." the Jailor replied.
"Well, believe what you want, but I'm actually the Doctor." the Serial Killer exclaimed.
"I can't say I fully trust you," the Jailor said, "but I'll let you go for now."
On a little piece of paper, the Jailor wrote 'The Doctor, seems fine to me, but a li-'.
That's all he got to write.
The Serial Killer quickly grabbed his favorite worn dagger and lunged at the Jailor, blindsighting him and spattering the paper in blood.
"You... deceiver...!" the Jailor sputtered. But it was too late.
The Jailor laid on the floor.
Dead.
"I got to get out of here fast!" the Serial Killer thought aloud.
So the Serial Killer ran out of the jail and raced to his house. For once, the Serial Killer didn't have a smile on his face.
The Sentence
"Doctor, you are on trial for conspiracy against the Town. What's your defense?"
The Serial Killer stood on the gallows, on trial for the crimes he has committed. Will he be lynched, or will he be let go?
"I am the Doctor, though." the Serial Killer lied. "I have been healing people since the first day."
"The Town may decide on the Doctor's fate." the man called.
"All the evidence stacks up." the Investigator exclaimed. He was retributed by the Retributionist last night, and he will not disappoint. "Who did you heal? No one. Who says that they saw you at their house that is alive? No one. Who did I glimpse when I got killed? YOU! I vote guilty!"
The majority of the Town agreed. Some abstained. The Witch, though, didn't look comfortable with the predicament.
"The Town has decided." the man called. "You are guilty of conspiracy against the Town. You will now face death. Any last words?"
"I hope you all die!" the Serial Killer growled. "I hope you all die and go to hell, where you all belong!"
The stool was kicked back.
The Serial Killer fell.
The Serial Killer's neck snapped.
And that was the end of the Serial Killer.