Lacrima: Chapter Thirteen

Werewolf

Job looked at the collection of games laid out on the dining table: 52-card decks, dice, various boards for cribbage, backgammon, and chess. The other guests chatted among themselves. He appraised them, then regarded the tools before him.

Catherine pointed to the chairs in the dining room. “There’s extra ones. And the dining table is more in the middle.”

“Sharp eye!” Lucille exclaimed. “I found out you can rearrange rooms with Service. Just ask it and it’ll throw everything together - within reason.”

“What, did you ask to set it up for the game night?”

“Exactly. Not sure why it chose to add more chairs, though,” Lucille admitted.

“Gotcha,” Catherine said, storing that away.

“What should we start with?” Lucille asked. “These are the games I could find around the mansion.”

“One moment,” Job said, raising a finger up. “Service, can you help facilitate a game?”

Service shimmered in the water curtain. “We have a few games learned from the Master and previous guests. Is there one in particular?”

“Do you know about Werewolf? The social deduction game?”

Konrad and Lucille beamed upon hearing that suggestion.

“I can,” Service answered. “Do you wish for me to be the Narrator?”

Job turned to the others, passing a grin on his face. “Well?”

“What’s Werewolf?” Catherine asked. Bae nodded along with the same sentiment.

“Have you played Mafia?” Lucille asked.

“Oh.” She glanced up to the ceiling, as if the memory struck her from above. “That game.”

“It’s pretty much the same. Just with a werewolf,” Lucille explained.

“With only five people?” Catherine grimaced.

“That’s why I asked Service to play the Narrator. Four wouldn’t be fun at all. I’ve tried,” Job said. “Plus, I’m sure it can figure out the best composition of roles for such a small group.”

Catherine smirked. “I agree, but we’ll have to see.”

Yes, we will see, Job thought. He then said, “Service, the guests would like to play Werewolf.”

“Splendid,” Service replied flatly. “Please grab your seats. The best way is to play in a circle.”

Lucille clapped before passing Job to grab a chair, but not before patting him on the arm. “Great idea!”

One-by-one, they dragged chairs away from the game-stacked dining table to the open space close to the water curtain. Catherine seated herself cross-legged. She steepled her fingers. Lucille pressed her torso into the chair’s back. Her feet tapped the floor. Konrad sat sharply up, craning his head to either side with nerves and excitement in equal measure. Bae slumped forward, hands and legs together. Her baggy workout clothes added to the downward weight her posture possessed. Service waited, presiding over the game with profound patience.

Job spread his legs apart, clasped his hands, and leaned towards the center of the circle. He adjusted his glasses.

Nothing quite like a social deduction game to learn more about people, he thought. In a previous semester, Job, like with Lacrima, found himself writing about social deduction games. For a research paper he wrote, he played Werewolf with his buds in the dorms - back when he lived in those sad accommodations. I want to get a better read on some of these people. How comfortable are they with lying? What do they do under pressure? Any obvious behavioral tells? In normal circumstances, assessing these would be intrusive and suspicious.

But with Werewolf?

It’s just a game, after all.

“I used to play this with my theatre group,” Lucille said, giddy.

“I have a…” Konrad reached for the word. “...a-a game group. We played this a few times.”

“I still don’t know what this game is,” Bae laughed.

“Esteemed guests of Lacrima,” Service rang. “Let me explain the rules of Werewolf. This is a social deduction game of lies, special roles, and intrigue. There are two sides: the town and the werewolf. If the werewolf is killed, the town wins. If the werewolf kills everyone in the town, the werewolf wins. At the start of the game, each person is secretly given a role. For this game, we have chosen these roles for the game…”

The blue light which infused the artificial waterfall bled into reds. A sigil of a wolf’s head blazed on the curtain. “The Werewolf. Hungry. Each night, the Werewolf may choose one person to kill. Upon day, the person killed is revealed and they are removed from the game.”

Red became orange and a pitchfork appeared. “The Villager. Docile. Has no special powers.”

The sunset shifted now to an umbral purple. An eye through the waters. “The Seer. Mystical. During the night phase, they may point to one person. That person’s role is revealed to them.”

The light returned back to blue, but richer this time and with a cloak sigil. “The Sorcerer. Deceitful. Has the Seer’s ability, but is in league with the Werewolf. If the Werewolf wins, so do they.”

Finally, ripples of green blotted out the blue. An axe symbol materialized. “The Hunter. Stalwart. If they and the Werewolf are the last two players alive, the Werewolf is automatically killed and the town wins.

“This game operates in phases. We start in the Night phase where everyone must have their hands down and eyes closed. We will resolve the special abilities and then transition to the Day phase. Here, all players may speak on who they think the Werewolf is. Everyone may then vote on who should be executed. The person with the most votes is killed and removed from the game. Anyone removed from the game cannot speak to the others.

“Those are the rules of the game. Tell me when you are ready to begin.”

Catherine shook her head. “I still think there’s too few of us. We’ll only have two Nights and one Day in the game.”

“Then, we’ll make them count,” Job replied. “Bae, does that make sense?”

“Kinda.” She gave a so-so wave. “But don’t let me hold everything up.”

“Okay, Service we’re ready to play!”

“Excellent.” Like with the food, the waterfall parted. Unveiled, a cart rolled cleanly past the set up chairs. It decelerated slowly until stopping right in the center. The cart held a short deck of cards with blue, patterned backs. A white engraving of a muscular man rolling a boulder up a mountain superimposed itself on the background. “Each guest may pick up a card. You are forbidden from showing your card. Once you return to your seat, you may look at your role.”

Lucille sprang up with impatient enthusiasm and took off the top card. She held the role side to her chest. The rest came up, taking their card for the game. Job was last. He cupped the final card in his hands as he returned to his seat. With deliberate care, he clasped the card with the ends of his palm. He screened the top of his card with the other hand. The wolf’s head sigil struck with the same sanguine-red which Service glowed in the explanation.

I’m the Werewolf, he thought. I can make this work.

Just below the sigil, an itemized list of the guest’s full names were jotted.

Job looked above his card, hoping to gauge his fellow players. His attention gravitated towards Catherine who was unreadable as ever. Konrad gave a curt nod. Lucille caught Job glancing at her, to which she winked back. Bae knitted her brow before setting the card face-down on her leg.

“Has everyone seen their role?”

“Yes!” Lucille chimed. “Let’s get to the first Night.”

“The first Night falls. All players must put their heads down and close their eyes.” Job obliged, noticing that Service took the liberty of dimming the lights as well. Whoever put this game into Service added a theatrical bent to it.

“Werewolf awaken.”

Slowly raising his face, Job scanned the others. Everyone had their heads down. No cheating here.

“Choose your victim. Point to the person’s name on the card when you’re ready.”

Here’s the tricky part: who do I want to observe the least? Job asked himself.

He pointed to Lucille Azure’s name on the list.

“Good. The Werewolf falls back asleep.”

“Sorceror awaken.”

As Service instructed both the Sorcerer and the Seer to awaken and point to their person of interest, Job steeled himself. He couldn’t get lost in the deduction game or rather not the one everyone else played around him. They were trying to find a Werewolf. He would be on the hunt for a potential killer.

“Day rises. Everyone awakens.”

The guests raised their faces, some even yawking. They watched expectantly, breaths drawn as much as they were in the moment.

“During the Night…” A spotlight of red struck Lucille. She gasped and giggled. “... Lucille was found dead in her bed. Claw marks all over her body. Lucille, you will leave the circle now. Silently.” Lucille bowed before making her exit. She took a seat at the table and spectated in the dim gloom.

Four guests now remained.

Job observed the others. Bae sighed, relieved. Konrad merely looked around.

Catherine… Catherine… She stared, cross-legged. Unflappable.

“The discussion may begin.”

Konrad waited for a beat, wanting to speak, but holding back. His feet tapped the floor. His tongue flicked. “I’m the Seer.”

Everyone else nodded.

“Okay, then who did you pick?” Job probed.

“Lucille. She was the Sorcerer,” he said. Konrad punctuated that with a flapping nod.

Konrad is honest, Job thought. Pathologically so. He wears his emotions like that owl amulet: conspicuous and honest. Though, in a higher-stakes environment, who knows what he would do. With all that thought, I don’t think Konrad is lying here. Even if he would cover something up, it would be with tangential truths, rather than with falsehood.

“Then the Werewolf shot himself in the foot,” Catherine stated. “Or herself. Whatever the case, we don’t have a Sorcerer anymore.”

“That’s if Konrad isn’t lying,” Job contested. “An easy way to get on everyone’s graces in Werewolf is to establish yourself as trustworthy. Right before you reveal yourself in the end.” As he pressed this challenge, he never let himself waver away from Catherine. Job only saw a shimmer go across her face. A motion so subtle - he couldn’t read it at all.

“True.” Catherine uncrossed her legs and steepled her fingers. “It’s hard to shake old truths. Even when they’re lies.”

“Those…” Job wagged his finger. “...those are hardest to move past.”

“However, we have no others but ourselves,” Catherine said. “Let us go to the fact that Lucille is dead. Which one of us would eliminate her so quickly?”

“You’re not saying personal motives might tint the game?” Job asked. He indulged his own irony.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Catherine affirmed.

“So, like,” Bae attempted, “We need to find who likes Lucille the least?”

“No, rather we should find the person most familiar with Lucille,” Catherine said. She ran her thumbnail against the cardback, scratching Sisyphus. “When prompted to choose among a group of people, regardless of the reason, people tend to gravitate towards the people they know the best. It’s unconscious.” Her middle and pointer fingers bifurcated: singling out Job and Bae. “Konrad. One of these two is the Werewolf.”

Bae leaned back with an inscrutable look. Stiffening lines creased her face.

Job ran his fingers through the bristles of his coarse beard.

Catherine and Konrad have formed a coalition. They’ve already formed a partnership. Catherine fully believes Konrad, despite the admission that he could be lying. She reserves no mercy for Bae and I. As for Bae…

“I’m not the Werewolf.” She squirmed. Her hands grabbed at the fabric of her sweatpants, knotting between her fingers. This slight pushback was unbearable.

… she doesn’t do well under pressure. Not even in a game, Job observed.

“What are you?” Catherine pressed.

“The Hunter.”

“If that’s true, that would leave me the Villager and Job…” Catherine tapped her card. That rhythm again.

“But I’m the Villager.” Job did his best to look bewildered. His own lie worked its magic. Konrad blinked twice. Bae raised her hands to her temples.

“I’m the Hunter,” Bae repeated, hoping to worm her way from this questioning.

“Then, you better hope we find the Werewolf,” Job said. “Whoever it is will now definitely get you next.”

She shook her head, disconcerted.

Is this an act? Job wondered. If it is, it’s a damn good one. That would mean she has strong acting capabilities. Perhaps those would be enough to fool everyone back when Argus drowned and she tried to save him. No one would suspect the purehearted heroine. Would they?

Job reconsidered.

But I know she’s not the Werewolf. If the Sorcerer’s dead, then she would be on the town’s side. There would be no reason to lie. In fact, it would be best to conceal that you’re the Hunter - to reverse the checkmate if the Werewolf didn’t eliminate her. It would be safe to assume she is the Hunter.

However, Bae has never played this game. I can’t fool strategy with ignorance.

Catherine looked at Bae and Konrad. “Let’s put this to a vote.”

“So eager to get rid of me?” Job asked.

“That’s just the game, Job,” she replied.

Service hummed back into action.

“The vote for the execution has begun. Please point to the guest’s name who you would wish for the town to put to death.”

Job knew the result, but played at protest by pointing to Catherine’s name.

“The results are in: 3 votes for Job; 1 vote for Catherine. The majority have spoken: Job is killed. With that…” The lights warmed. “... the Werewolf has been slain. You may reveal your cards. If you wish to play another round, simply ask.”

Cutting off, Service’s presence left the room.

“See.” Bae forced a smile to show her card. “Hunter. I wasn’t lying.”

“Neither was I,” Catherine replied, revealing her Villager card. Konrad flipped his own over: Seer. “The only person who lied was Job.”

“Guilty as charged,” Job laughed with true mirth.

Lucille came up to him and playfully punted him on the shoulder. “I was on your side, Werewolf-boy. Next time don’t kill me.”

His laugh chained into his next words: “Will do.”

Konrad joined in. “We should play again.” He glanced over at Bae, who dashed away eye contact. Konrad looked at his shoes. “Or something else… Who knows?”

For a second, Job’s mission slipped away. He liked these people. They could be his friends. Genuine, dear friends. It hurt him to know that one of them was a killer and he had to find them out.

Maybe Argus was a one-off, he thought.

This game night could be the start of a lovely vacation. Especially when he saw Lucille’s cosmic-blues, he wanted to stay here. Let the speculation and the anxiety die.

Why can’t the human animal just feel the good and the love?

Why must Job find out the secret?

Because the stakes are too high, he answered with sober duty. Argus may not be a “one-off.” I don’t know that.

“Let’s take a quick break,” Catherine said, her attention absorbed into the card in her hand. She dragged her finger down the length of it. “I’ll be in the hallway for a few minutes.”

“Hey,” Lucille said, as Catherine made her way out. “We just got started.”

“I want a minute to myself,” Catherine said. “That’s all.”

Job’s heightened suspicion came back. This was the first time Catherine expressed a desire for creature comfort: space and recovery. The cold algorithm of Catherine stalled. The human peered out from displaced cogs.

Catherine slipped out, card up by her face and all.

Bae Yuri looked at the others. “I’ll keep an eye on her. She seems off.”

“Really?” Konrad piped up. “She just needs a minute.”

“Maybe the game upset her?”

“Why? She won-” Konrad’s logical protest didn’t stop Bae from storming off to Catherine, leaving the other three in the dining room. Lucille puckered her lips, displaying her displeasure.

“That was strange,” Job said. “Maybe I should check on her.”

“Do me a favor and get them all back here,” Lucille said. “Konrad, let’s get a round of poker set up.”

“Sure!”

Job broke off as Konrad and Lucille set to their task.

The two most suspicious people are outside this room, Job thought. This is a prime opportunity. For what, we’ll have to see.

He breached into the hallway, catching sight of Bae and Catherine on the other end.

(***)

Bae kept the pace up. Catherine was deceptively fast. While Bae walked with the raw strength of her limbs, Catherine advanced with an insatiable, otherworldly drive.

“Catherine!” Bae called out. “Catherine!”

The lack of an answer tightened Bae’s chest. “I just want to say no sweat with the game. I just wasn’t used to it. If I seemed agitated, that’s why. You can understand, right? New experiences. I wasn’t offended or anything. You were just playing the game.” For the first time, she knew with firm clarity that her habitual overspeaking completely lacked purchase. There was no ambiguity: Catherine was deaf to her.

The software engineer stopped right in front of the zen garden room. She swung it open with one hand and kept the other firmly clutched with the card.

“Are you good?” Bae entreated. She stood several feet away, but the gap might have well spanned the whole hallway. “You’re a determined woman. I like that about you. We haven’t talked a lot.” The image of a cement wall came to Bae, but she persisted. “You’re absorbed in this mansion, but I know you can open up to people. Look at Konrad! You two work together so well. I like him too, so I think it’ll be easy to like you. But in order to do that, we have to exist in the same place.” Bae heard her words reverberate off the glass. It sounded right. “Yeah, let’s exist together. All of us. Come on back to the room.”

“Service lied.” Catherine turned back to Bae. Her face gained a new expression that Bae couldn’t parse.

Awe? Ambition? Grit? Desperation? Or a collection of all of them?

“Service lied,” Catherine repeated. “They said they couldn’t see. Only hear. But how the hell could they see us point to our names in the game? They lied. They can see us.”

Bae Yuri clenched her jaw.

“Apologies, Bae.” Catherine shook her head, but never let the eye line with the card break. “I know you want to connect with people on this trip. In other circumstances… No, I’ll be honest, I probably wouldn’t associate with you. You’re not the usual company I have around. No offense.”

“None taken,” but she very much did.

“You have the others,” Catherine alluded. “I have my mission.”

“Mission?”

“Before I go, remember what Lucille said about Service rearranging the rooms?”

“Where are you going?” Bae cut through.

Catherine ignored it. “And I’ve seen Service work before. Thanks to Konrad’s cameras.” She turned to the window. “Service, could you make a unique rock formation with the zen garden.”

Service appeared on the windows, seeming larger than ever. “Of course, we’ll focus on an interesting pattern for you.”

“Catherine,” Bae pushed. “It’s raining. Hard. Where are you going.”

Catherine’s hand nudged the doorknob, but it wouldn’t budge. “Auto-locks. Expected.”

Stepping closer, Bae tried to cross the gap. Catherine let the seconds pass, heard a click, then opened the door. Without looking inside, she set the door ever so slightly ajar.

“Apologies Service, could you make a more interesting formation in the zen garden?”

“We’re sorry for the disappointment. We’ll put extra work into making this one great.”

“Glad to hear it,” Catherine said.

All at once, she ripped open the door; Bae sprinted forward, bewildered at the scene before her; and Catherine left the door hanging from its hinge. Blue specters turned their faceless visages towards the two. Bae froze, but Catherine knew exactly what she was doing. The ghosts came from the dilated gaps in the floorboard. Catherine brushed past two servants. Wild sparks few. White flashes and blue light shards. She hit the floor, slid on herself, and slipped into the gap.

The mansion swallowed Catherine. In the span of a second, the servants finished their operations, sculpting the zen garden into a roiling sea of chalky sand. Static-crackling, they fell into the lower depths of the mansion.

Bae, slackjawed and powerless, froze right in the middle of the hall.