Wyatt hardly heard the intercom as he could do nothing but stare at the replaced compartment. He slowly, shakily reached his hand out, grabbing out the clothes and note.

Wyatt stood up, breathing through his mouth so he wouldn't smell the sickening stench of blood. He looked down as he headed down to the hall, noticing the blood run from the clothes down his hand and on his wrist.

He almost threw up.

Wyatt did his best to ignore the way the blood tickled his skin by slowly trickling around his fingers, yet it somehow hadn’t dripped to the floor which bugged him. He walked a few more feet and then turned around the corner, bumping into Griffin.

“Ow! Watch it, idiot!” Griffin exclaimed, falling against the wall.

“Where are you going?” Wyatt asked, “The elevator is that way!”

There, in that moment, Wyatt noticed Griffin’s eyes dart to the side, like he was trapped in a corner. “None of your buisness!” he snapped, shoving Wyatt aside and rushing down the hall.

“Geez,” Wyatt grumbled, heading for the small group that had gathered in front of the elevator, unmoving. He walked over slowly. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

Shakily, Cassie pointed at the door that lead to the elevator. Wyatt glanced at it, his eyes suddenly widening in horror. He couldn’t tear his eyes away.

On the door, there was a picture carved in. Wyatt couldn’t help but notice the professionalism of the way it was scratched in, with different types of pressure visible to form a gruesome picture.

It was a zoomed in version of Crimson’s death, with only her head and part of her torso visible. The person had obviously spent time, every look of shock and sadness visible in her eyes. Wyatt tore his eyes away from the main attraction, noticing a small artist’s signature at the bottom corner of the door.

He felt his heart skip a beat.

I told you, didn't I? She's a beautiful muse.

Thane bent down next to Wyatt and blanched at the message.

They all stood up quickly when they heard the sound of footsteps behind them.

Griffin walked closer, a roll of paper tucked under his arm. He was followed suit by Dagger, which explained the aggravated expression on his face. His lips were pursed together, his eyes were narrowed and his style of walking had stiffened.

Dagger took one look at the door before gasping melodramatically, running to the door and hugging it. “Oh, no! Why!?”

Wyatt felt his eyebrows crease. “What?”

Dagger glanced at Wyatt and lurched forward, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. “You!” he yelled.

Wyatt choked. “What?”

“You’d better figure out the killer! You need to give me the permission to execute the jerk who did this to my fucking door!”

"It's just a door!" Wyatt gasped.

"I spent forever on the designs! And now someone put something sick like this on my cool designs of people dying! Why is it one person!? And what's up with then the victim!? She needs more pain in her eyes!"

Wyatt pried Dagger's death grip off of him. "We need to get to the trial!" he coughed.

Dagger stood up. "You better win," he growled, "I've said it before. You are the center of my attention, Wyatt Clark. I expect my guinea pig to do what I say, and I expect that from you. You'd better have some good clues, because this trial is one that I'm interested in what you have to say." Dagger headed into the elevator as Wyatt slowly sat up.

Dagger glared at them. "Well? Come on!"

The remaining nine guests tripped into the elevator.

The elevator began its descent.

Wyatt rocked back and forth on his feet, his eyes traveling to Dagger, who leaned on the wall, his right foot pressed against the wall and his back slouched, black hair falling into his oddly colored eyes.

The elevator came to a stop as Dagger walked over to his throne, sitting down.

Without words, they walked to their stands, looking away from the picture of Crimson which had been crossed out with an X.

Dagger studied Wyatt with his silver and red eye. "Shall we cut to the chase, and figure out the murderer of Crimson Ryder?"

Star gestured to Harmony.

"Crimson...Ryder was found dead at the end of the maze on the Fourth Floor. She had only stab wounds on her body, and she was tied to the ceiling.

"There was a big dent in her head, and her neck was broken, as well as her left arm. From the small, shallow scrapes on her torso and the blood track, she was dragged there."

"There's not a lot of evidence just from the autopsy," Griffin muttered.

"We should try and decide what the murderer's intention was for this murder," Star said.

"How about the Disease?" Sophie suggested. She looked around. "Any one of the people who had the Disease could have committed the murdered. They all had the reason to, and each of their diseases could have something to do with concealing the murder."

Thane nodded in agreement. "Chase's Disease could have to do with his deceiving of the murder. Star's Disease could have caused her to commit the murder easily. Griffin's Disease would be the perfect cover up for a murder. And Wyatt had the perfect motivation."

Cassie shook her head. "I don't think Wyatt did it."

Griffin narrowed his eyes. "Oh, yeah? Wanna give us some solid evidence?"

"Yes, pure despair would be a motivation. I mean, if you got a chance to escape the horrifying despair, you would take it in a heartbeat. But...I don't think Wyatt would do that. He talked to me when I took care of him. He was desperate, yes, but what did he do? He went to AlterAssassin. He tried to seek hope, and I think he was almost crazy for it. Yet, I think, in his sane mind, he knew killing for hope wasn't what he wanted. That's why he seeked Alter."

"Feelings don't prove anything," Damien stated quietly, shifting in his stand.

"When we decided that Wyatt wouldn't help us in exploring, we sent him to his room. He went to AlterAssassin's after that. He came back and we talked. Then, he ran into Damien."

Wyatt realized, in horror, at the fact that AlterAssassin was missing, which pointed clues to him. He looked down.

"What's wrong? Got something to say?" Sophie asked.

Wyatt shook in fear. He took a deep breath. "I...I..."

"Oh, wanna say something, Wyatt?" Dagger challenged.

Wyatt squeezed his eyes shut. He dug his fingernails in the wood. "I did go to AlterAssassin. When I went back, AlterAssassin was gone. In...his place was a pile of bloody clothes."

"You could've done it then!" Sophie shouted.

"I know," Wyatt mumbled miserably.

"So...you did do it?" Star asked suspiciously.

He shook his head. "I didn't. But I can't deny that the clues point to me."

Star looked around the room. "Well, since the clues point to Wyatt, we should make sure all of them fit if we want to convict him."

Wyatt realized what they were doing and began to desperately contradict their statements.

"What about the puppet strings?" they asked.

"I didn't do it!" Wyatt shouted.

"He could have stolen them from Thane and tried to plant the evidence!" Griffin shouted.

"No!" Wyatt screamed.

"The maze?"

"Stop it! Stop it!" Wyatt sobbed.

"Dagger did say there were two people who knew the maze! It could've been Crimson and Wyatt!"

"Shut up!"

"The note?"

"He still could be the murderer! The note itself could be from anyone!"

"Would you check the shirt size that you're holding and tell us yours?"

Wyatt's eyes widened. He swallowed back the tears, bringing out the bloodstained shirt. He checked the tag, his heart sinking.

The shirt was a large.

So was his.

"Large," Wyatt whispered, his voice cracking.

"Both?"

Wyatt bit his lip. His voice was barely heard. "Yes."

"The murder weapon was a knife," Damien said.

"The knife is definitely Wyatt's!"

Damien slammed his hand on his stand. "That proves it! Based on the clues of the knife, the clothes, Wyatt's discovery, and the stolen items from Thane's room, we can obviously conclude that he is the killer!"

"Let's vote!" Chase said.

Dagger smiled. "Already?"

"Yes! The clues point to him!"

Dagger sighed. "Oh, Wyatt. I thought you were stronger than this. Was my disease so much that you had to kill to escape? Too bad!"

"It's wrong! I wouldn't do that!' he screamed desperately.

Dagger raised his arms. "Well then, my guests, let's vote! Please pull the lever and cast your vote!"

Wyatt shut his eyes. "You guys are gonna die! Stop it! We're going to die!" he shouted.

Nobody listened to him as he heard hands grip around the levers.

"It's over," Wyatt whispered, shaking his head.

"For you, yes," Damien said. "Why were you so sick, Wyatt? You murdered someone and then even took them time to draw a picture on the elev–"

"No, that's wrong!"

Trial Four: Suspended!