"Ya bro, you're very nearly on my level now bitch. Not quite though bro, not quite. Domingo's level is way way above all of your asses." - Domingo
Domingo Played by: Paul Game: ATTWS II: Comfort ENn Alignment: Town Role: The Disguiser Death: Killed on Night 7 Description: Domingo lives the party lifestyle 24/7. He is rarely sober and often gets into fights which he loses quite horribly. He likes it when the attention is on him and tends to be a drama queen. Domingo was drunkenly driving home from a club this night when he ended up in the middle of nowhere. He has no idea where he is but with the storm being as nasty as it is, he'll have to wait until morning to find his way back home. He's used to finding himself miles from civilization after his benders anyway.
Death
+
Domingo leaned back in his chair, resting his head on his hands. Life was good, all things considered. Scum were dropping like flies thanks to him. Those bitches don't know how lucky they are that Domingo is here.
"I'll drink to that, bitch! Woooo yeah!" Domingo said to himself as he downed a jagerbomb.
Suddenly, his door burst in which startled him so much he dropped his glass to the floor.
"Um, ever heard of knocking, asshole?"
The figure calmly started walking towards him, with knife in hand.
"Ha! You think you can stop Domingo that easily? I've fought fuckers like you before. Come at me bro!" Domingo yelled as he put his fists up.
The killer was unphased and swiftly sliced Domingo's throat. Domingo laid on the floor, miserably gasping for air as blood poured from his neck.
"Don't have much to say now, do ya? ...Bitch." the killer snarled as they left Domingo to bleed out.
"Sleep well." - Kenneth
Kenneth Played by: KC Game: ATTWS III: FErst Class Alignment: Self Role: Serial Killer Death: Lynched Day 5 (initial form), Lynched Day 12 (Gilbert form) Description: Kenneth's had it. All this mainstream filth polluting this beautiful vessel. The rudeness from the passengers from the moment he stepped on was just too much to bear. There wasn't even a hit of irony about them, they were just terrible, terrible people. Not one of them fit to live.
Death
+
Officer Swanson and I looked on at the poor sap before us. Seven knives protruded from his back as if he were a pin cushion.
I looked down and noticed he was holding a knife of his own. It was covered with blood. Next to his hand, there seemed to be some kind of message, written in blood.
Hm. Most intriguing.
---------------------------------------------
As soon as Poo slid his mucilaginous mass into the conference car, his finger was pointed squarely at Kenneth.
"THIS HIPSTER DOUCHE LAST NIGHT I CONTROLLED
WHAT'D HE DO? HE KILLED BERNIE MOST OLD
NOW WE MUST STRIKE HIM TIL HE'S COLD!"
Without a second thought, seven of the passengers grabbed steak knives and steadily approached Kenneth.
"Now wait a minute you guys. We can talk about this. Let's just talk." he said calmly.
Scott shook his head.
"No. You're a killer. I mean I enjoy partaking in criminal activities as much as the next guy, but I can't very well do all my crack-smoking and what-not when someone's trying to kill me!"
"Look. I admit it. I'm a killer. But I swear...it was all for the good of the town. Sarah and Rachel would still be on the loose if it weren't for me! Now just trust me. Scott's got to go next." Kenneth said, suddenly less sure of himself. The mob didn't seem to be letting up.
Winston shook his head disapprovingly.
"Son, there comes a time in every train ride when it's gotta reach its destination. Sometimes this happens sooner than you'd like, sometimes later than you'd like. But we don't have much say in the matter, do we? What I'm sayin' is, it's about time your train ride ended. Good or bad, it don't matter. It's just time."
Winston calmly walked over to Kenneth and slid a knife into his back. Others quickly followed suit, as Kenneth writhed around on the floor in agony.
In his final moments, Kenneth pulled a knife of his own out of his pocket. The passengers looked on in horror as he reached back and stabbed his own back.
Kenneth smiled and took it out and started scribbling a message on the floor, before drawing his last breath.
The message simply read "brb".
The passengers all looked at each other in fear. What...the hell did that mean?
The lights went out momentarily and a faint whisper echoed throughout the carriage.
"Sleeep well." said the voice menacingly.
The lights shot back on and everyone looked around at each other. Everyone appeared the same.
