EY ran down the hallway until she reached a small room that her friends were inside. Still in tears, she was too distracted to even shut the door behind her.

"There you are," Lindsey said, hugging her. "I'm so sorry you got left behind."

The kid was still shaking and stammering uncontrollably. "I-i-it was aw-f-ful," she sobbed. "There were these voices...and....and...and this..." she screamed mid sentence and ducked.

Right over her head came the double edged knife, as if something had thrown it. One blade stuck to the wall, while the other had a note through it.

"That," she finished.

Dallas watched the scene, wide-eyed. "That thing could've took your head off," he observed bluntly.

EY nodded nervously.

"How did it get in here?" Zoey asked.

"And why," Brian added.

Lindsey took the note off of the knife and gripped it in her hand. She figured it had the answer she was looking for, just not the one she wanted.

It was a clue, not a helpful one, just instructions on how to play the game. It was the worst one she had seen yet. She gasped as she finished reading it in her head.

At that moment, the back walls slammed down in front of the hallways. There was no way out and now they couldn't even go back the way they came. They were trapped.

EY twitched uncontrollably. "What-what just happened?" she panicked.

Brian looked at his best friend, who was now starting to grow as pale as he was normally. "Lindsey, what did the note say?"

Lindsey held it out in front of her. She was so overwhelmed by sadness and anger that she didn't even have the strength to read it out loud.

Your second clue is a rule to the game:

An exit will only appear when five remain.

One life must be lost at the hands of the others

If you still don't understand what that means....

YOU HAVE TO KILL SOMEONE IN YOUR GROUP!

-M

EY choked on her words. "W-we have to kill one of us?"

"No," Lindsey disagreed harshly, but her voice shook. "We can't! W-we just can't. It's not fair. There has to be another way out." She slammed her fist against the wall, but it wouldn't dent. She kicked it repeatedly. "It's not fair! There's gotta be a way out!"

Brian touched her shoulder. "Lindsey," he spoke softly. It still didn't stop her frantic attempts to break down the wall.

He sighed. His best friend could be a handful sometimes....most times.....always.

"Lindsey," he said louder, pulling her away from the wall. "Calm down," he told her.

She groaned in frustration. "It's just not fair. The house should not be able to control us."

"Wait!" Zoey exclaimed. "The note, the one we found before the split hallways. It said there was an imposter in the group. 'The quicker you spot the fake, the longer you hold off your fate'" she quoted. "We're supposed to kill the imposter," she realized.

"What if we're wrong?" Brian pointed out.

"We can't be," she responded.

An awkward silence filled the room. The group kept avoiding eye contact, unsure of what to say next.

"....so," EY attempted to break the tension. "How do we figure out who it is?"

"If you're the imposter, raise your hand," Brian tried. As expected, everyone stayed still.

Lindsey pulled Brian aside while the others looked preoccupied. Zoey had her hands on her temples, racking her brain. Miguel seemed to be deep in thought, while Dallas shifted uncomfortably and EY was twitching more than usual.

Lindsey matched her blue eyes to his hazel ones. "Brian, it isn't you is it?" she asked, worried.

"No, I promise," he said sincerely. "And I don't even need to ask about you." He knew absolutely nothing could even try to match the outspokenness and determination of Lindsey Schaffner.

Lindsey looked at the rest of her friends and bit her lip. "I don't wanna kill anybody," she said quietly, (a rarity).

"Neither do I," he agreed. He had no idea how they were gonna get out of this. In all of the time he knew her, Lindsey had never been one for contentment. If she didn't like what she was given, she did something about it. It was a trait that got her into trouble often, but nonetheless, it was a trait he admired about her.

But now they were trapped, with no way out and no one to stand up to. The two of them shared a mutual feeling of uncertainty.

Zoey sighed in stress. She hated not knowing the answer. "How are we supposed to figure this out?"

Miguel broke his trance-like thought. "It's Dallas," he said simply.

Dallas went even paler, causing his numerous amount of freckles to stand out even more.

"What?" He said simultaneously with the real Miguel.

What are you doing? He asked his new controller. I know he's annoying and all, but I don't want him dead.

Oh but I do, the imposter spoke back. You see this is exactly the sort of thing that happened to me twelve years ago. I was wrongly accused of being possessed and my friends betrayed me and killed me.

Look, I'm sorry about that, Miguel told him, but that's not his fault. It's not any of our faults.

Yes, I am aware of that, he informed him. And it is unfortunate for the red-haired boy, but it must be done. Of course, it will be a lot harder to convince them to kill him since you're all so close. Oh well, I guess I'll have to resort to trickery and manipulation.

Guys, kill me! Miguel tried to scream. Kill me! I'm the imposter! Kill me! He begged, but no one could hear him.

"Guys, I'm not the imposter, I swear," Dallas desperately tried to form words together. "I don't have some evil guy's soul in me. I don't have any soul in me," he added frantically.

"You were awfully quick to change the subject about the imposter back at the split hallway," Miguel pointed out.

"But...but...that was only because the hallway was the main problem then," he answered stammering.

"Why did you need to change the subject?" Miguel questioned.

Dallas struggled to find the right words. "I-I just don't like thinking about more than one problem at once. It's depressing and confusing."

"And why wouldn't the imposter go for the strongest," Miguel pressed on.

Before Dallas could retaliate, Zoey interrupted him. "It all makes sense," she said. "He did change the subject back at the split hallways. If we weren't thinking about the imposter, we wouldn't be able to notice as many details like this."

"I am not smart enough to think of a plan like that," Dallas said in all honesty.

"Dallas might not be, but that doesn't mean the imposter isn't," Miguel continued.

Dallas felt his mouth go dry. There seemed to be nothing he could say that would help him.

"And of course the imposter would want his body," Zoey thought out loud. "He's at least half a foot taller than everybody and he's the only one with remotely any muscle."

"I can't help that," Dallas exclaimed. "I'm not the imposter. You guys are overthinking this. Your reasons don't prove anything--"

"You're getting defensive," Miguel observed.

"You guys are gonna kill me," his voice cracked, badly, like it did back when he was thirteen.

"Miguel," EY said cautiously. "I really don't think it's him. I've never seen him panic this much before."

"It's out of character," he stated.

"He's scared," she replied.

"Listen to her," Dallas pleaded.

"I thought he never got scared," Miguel reminded them. He got eye level with EY. "He's taking advantage of your innocence and playing with your emotions."

"It would be easiest to convince the most naive," Zoey figured.

"Plus, if it isn't him, then who is it?" Miguel asked EY.

"W-well..."she stuttered. "I mean....I don't know....I just .....and...well....I don't know," she squeaked. She couldn't make any guesses because she was too afraid of being wrong.

Miguel hugged her. "It's okay," he told her. "I know you don't wanna believe any of this. It's gotta be so hard on you since you're so nice, but you don't want us to end up killing somebody innocent."

"Guys!" Dallas exclaimed with a straining voice. "Miguel's probably the imposter since he's the one accusing people!"

"You mean like you're doing right now," Miguel pointed out.

Dallas put his head in his hands and groaned. All of his words were being twisted into a giant knot that he couldn't get out of.

"What about a memory test?" Zoey suggested.

"Yeah," Brian agreed. "That would work."

"Miguel, what are your brothers' names?" Zoey asked.

Stay out of my memories, Miguel ordered, but the imposter had full access to his brain.

Too late, he responded. I know your past, your hopes, your fears, all your memories, good and bad, and, of course, the names of your siblings.

"Andreas and Carlos," he answered out loud.

Zoey had to think of a different question since Dallas was an only child. "What's your mom's maiden name?"

He was drawing a complete blank. "That's not fair," he whined. "My question was a lot harder."

"You don't remember?" Miguel asked innocently.

"It's long. I never cared to remember it," he explained anxiously.

"His did seem harder," Brian thought. "I mean the only reason I know my mom's is because she switched it back after the divorce. Try a different one," he offered.

"All right. When's my birthday?" Zoey questioned.

Dallas breathed in nervously. He knew it had been earlier this month, just not how much earlier. "Recently," he tried.

"A date?" she pressed farther.

He looked around and tried to get rid of the lump in his throat. "I don't know," he admitted. "Not the exact date anyways."

"It's October 15th," Miguel finished.

"If you need something really recent, how's this?" Zoey began. "What time did rehearsal end last night?"

Dallas tried to think, but rehearsal ended at a different time every night. "Uh...ten...no...eight...thirty..."

"Nine thirty," she corrected.

The others looked at each other apprehensively. Missing three out of three questions wasn't a good sign.

"Guys! I'm forgetful, I always have been," Dallas frantically tried to explain.. "I'm not detail oriented. I'm horrible with memory. I'm incredibly ignorant and obnoxious, just please don't kill me," he begged.

"Maybe we should at least wait," Lindsey said, almost convinced.

"He's trying to keep us trapped in here," Miguel told the group. "Maybe he's stalling because something else is waiting to attack this room or maybe he's just trying to keep us stuck in here forever. If we never make it out, we can never beat the game."

Lindsey looked at Brian, upset. He made a really good point.

Miguel took the double edged knife out of the wall and examined it. The real Miguel desperately tried to stab himself with it, but he had no control.

Please, he tried to reason with the imposter. You don't have to do this. You don't have to kill him--

Oh, I'm not going to, he cut him off.

What do you mean? He asked, filled with confusion and worry.

Miguel handed the knife to Zoey.

"Me?" she asked, shocked. She took it rather nervously. It made her feel uneasy.

Miguel advanced towards Dallas, cornering him. As tall as he was, he still backed away in terror from the Spanish boy's 5'6" stature. "Give it up," he told him. "We figured it out and there's nothing you can do about it."

Dallas fell while backing into the wall. His speech was barely audible now. He just kept screaming "Guys I swear, it's not me."

"Now Zoey," Miguel told her.

She strategically aimed for the quickest death possible, but she couldn't keep her focus.

What am I thinking, she thought to herself. She grew more and more restless with each second. I can't kill somebody.

"Miguel...Miguel, I really don't think I can do this," she started to cry.

"Zoey," he said. "He's already dead."

Breathing heavily, she stabbed the knife into Dallas' heart and quickly pulled it back out. She threw it to the ground then put her head in her hands. She had ended a life in a matter of seconds.

She hugged Miguel, smearing tears all over his shoulder. "I can't believe I did that. I actually killed someone."

"It was just the imposter," he comforted her. "I mean think about how he must've been torturing Dallas. He deserved it."

"I guess, " she replied. "But still..."

"Trust me, it's gonna be fine," he told her. He got down to pick up the knife. "I'll hold onto-"

"No," Zoey interrupted him. "I don't want to be anywhere near that thing," her voice was shaking.

He looked hesitant, but eventually dropped it. "All right," he agreed.

While they were talking, another wall sunk into the ground, revealing an exit.

Lindsey sighed. Even if they were the ones advancing, she still felt defeated. "Let's go," she said weakly before they entered the new path, leaving the double edged knife and their friend's dead body behind.