The dark figures of the two traitors swept through the halls, searching the complex for their target. They kept to the shadows, sneaking around shafts of moonlight that streamed in through the windows. The sound of footsteps made the stop, pressing themselves against the walls, hiding in the darkness.
Capps, unaware of the danger, strode around the corner. He stopped for a moment, gazing out the window at the moonlit nightscape outside. The sound of someone clearing their throat made him turn.
"Oh, it's you people. After me, are you?" He stared down the dark, masked figure. "What did I do, kill you father or something?"
There was a metallic ringing as the dark figure pulled a long, curved blade from the folds of their cloak. Capps took a step back as the figure advanced.
"Wait!" He shouted desperately. "I know how to fight! You'll never win against me!"
He moved a hand inside his coat. In a sudden series of movements, he threw a small watch at the figure and turned to run.
Behind him, the second traitor stood waiting.
Trapped, Capps looked desperately between the two. The pair closed in, blades coming ever closer.
"No! I'm not prepared to die!"
With a swift movement, the second traitor slipped a small blade into Capps' back. He stumbled and fell to his knees as the one before him sheathed his unused weapon.
"You'll enjoy this, I think… That dagger was coated with a concoction of my own devising. It won't be long now before it starts to take effect. Look at your hands." Capps did so, face locked in a grimace of pain and fear. "That's where it'll hit first. There, and your feet. The poison works in a number of stages, all incredibly painful. It'll creep slowly up your limbs, multiplying the pain until you think you can take no more. But do you want to know the best part?" Capps made no reply. "The compounds are helpful too. They'll keep you sane and alive until the moment the poison stops your heart. Which should be a while." The stranger looked down at Capps hands, still held in front of his face. They began to clench, turning an odd shade of red. "And so it begins. Have fun, and goodbye."
With that, Capps was left alone to suffer his fate.
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The contorted corpse of Capps was found in one of the hallways in the morning, limbs twisted, skin horrible colours, and face moulded into a horrifying grimace.
Another sorrowful sight was awaiting the group when they woke. A muffled scream, a moan, and the clinking of glass accompanied a deformed spectre that wandered the halls: Antihero. His mouth missing, he was unable to drink from the bottle he carried around with him. It wasn't long before, in a sudden fit of rage, he threw the bottle at the nearest piece of stone, shattering it. The label, disconnected by the impact, floated back to him. A shard of glass still attached cut open his finger. He had a way to send a message.
==============
Mr. Capps was a Late-Rising Villager.
It is now the Day Phase.
Antihero has been silenced. He may only post once today, and may not vote.
_______________________
Pretty self-explanatory
