There was something eerie about this diary entry, and Maddie couldn't decode what it was. She would need Damon's help to decipher whether the person's writing style could give away any clues, but that plan was out of the window. The chances of there being a blizzard in the Sahara desert had a higher probability compared to attaining Damon's help. But perhaps she could try.

She couldn't tell whether the person writing this entry was angry at Steven for causing the change, or whether he or she was trying to poorly express a different expression.

She didn't realize her fingers were semi trembling as she turned over the page. The cursive handwriting was very beautiful and elegant—one would think it belonged to a girl at first glance.

"What if the Game Master is a girl?" A random thought popped into her mind. The Game Master could be using a voice changing device. Nowadays, one could use shoulder pads to appear broader. With the thought fixated there, she continued reading the second entry.

Smile.
Everyone smiled.
Though we were clothed in black,
Though the tears rolled off our cheeks,
Though we sealed our lips shut,
Though we saw his body hidden within the coffin,
Everyone smiled.

The more Maddie read, the more frightened she became. Whoever wrote this had strong feelings towards Steven, though she wasn't sure what their relationship was. It did not narrow the Game Master's identity to one particular person considering they had all been close to Steven at one point or another.

Her focus shifted to the shuffling sound against the staircase, and she was alerted at once. What if it was the Game Master? What if she was going to get killed? Her chest rose with sheer panic, quickly looking for anything to use as a weapon. Definitely not the notebook.

"Hey."

The voice was familiar and so soft, Maddie was amazed by its magical ability to erase every single one of her worries. She looked up, watching as Ethan properly entered the attic once again. His eyes fell on the notebook in her hand, but he never questioned it.

"What are you doing?" He asked instead, eyes watching the empty space beside her.

Maddie immediately knew his true intention and quickly moved the oil lamp aside, clearing some space for him to sit closely against herself. Her heart started thumping louder and faster, and she wasn't sure whether it was caused by the notebook's revelation or Ethan's arrival.

"I... Err... I was just reading a book. It helps me to calm down." Maddie used the same excuse as before. She quickly hid the book behind her to conceal it from his sight. "What about you?"

"I was patrolling the house."

Maddie raised an eyebrow at the unexpected answer.

"Sometimes I wonder whether those locked doors will ever be opened. I like to go around the house, checking if maybe, perhaps, a door will be opened today," Ethan said, and there was that painful glint in his gaze. He must've felt caged inside, like the rest of them were—caged as puppets to the Game Master's huge dollhouse.

"Aren't you scared? Do you have no fear?" Maddie asked, eyes continuing to watch him from such a close distance.

The light flickered seamlessly against the shades of his face, outlining his sharp jawline as he gazed in front of him. The attic was so quiet she could hear the friction of his shirt rubbing against its own material when he made the slightest movement to turn to her. He was unbelievably handsome.

"I am afraid I no longer possess any feelings of fear ever since I lost my brother during the accident," he spoke, and his tone was woven with so much longing and regret towards the unattained. He did not have to elaborate for her to know what he was talking about. Everyone remembered what they genuinely wished to forget.

"Although," he continued in a low whisper.

Maddie met his eyes, so soft and calming as he stared into her eyes. His gaze was so charming and enticing at the same time, she felt her heart twitch just being near to him.

"I have found another cause to be fearful of," he whispered, eyes never breaking the stare he was holding, "To lose you."

The words were so hypnotizing, causing her heart to race faster and faster. Her expression was frozen in place, feeling the pit of her stomach swirl up with elated ecstasy when he suddenly leaned closer. She wasn't sure what to expect, but found herself fluttering her eyelids close.

There was the faintest brush of his lips pressed against hers, so delicate and fragile, it mirrored the perfect state they were in. It was a chaste kiss, elongated by the passing time as he kept their lips against each other. Then he pulled away in the matter of seconds without the intention to deepen it further.

"I- I'm sorry," Ethan then quickly said, as if confused by his own actions. His eyes darted awkwardly around the room, and she could hear his quickened breathing out of nervousness. He was carried away by the moment, but never planned to actually carry out the action he had only imagined in his head.

Maddie, on the other hand, was trying her best to suppress her smile. He was such a good distraction; the one who managed to take her mind away from her previous fears and doubts.

A part of her morale wondered, whether she was allowed to seek for romance despite the gruesome situation they were in. Would her growing affections to Ethan be save to cultivate, or would it be a mockery against those who had died in the house? Could she continue this lingering romance, or was it long overdue since years ago?

"I'm gonna continue patrolling the house," Ethan then said semi awkwardly. The cool and collected guy hadn't shown this side of him ever since he confessed to her years ago—back when she thought he was merely joking.

Even as he descended the stairs, Maddie hadn't managed to utter a word, afraid that the things she wanted to tell him could make their situation any worse. But the loud beating of her heart made up for the words left unspoken.

***

The night was long, and everyone was experiencing different sets of overwhelming emotions. Bree sat on Ashlyn's bed, watching the girl fling out things in her room out of rage. Considering there wasn't much in their empty room to begin with, Ashlyn only threw the chair to the floor.

Honestly, Bree was never as patient as Shirley was. The elder probably would've sympathized with Ashlyn's coping of her loss, but she was not Shirley.

"Ashlyn, stop." Her voice was stern.

The other girl stopped her random battle cries, looking at Bree with disbelief. She looked utterly betrayed, and frowned.

"It has been five years already. Any sane person in their right mind would've let this go," Bree spoke. She hated to be the one to deliver the truth, but a part of her knew the others started to get annoyed by Ashlyn's inability to move on.

"Let this go?" Ashlyn repeated her words softly, widening her eyes to her friend with a mocking scoff. "If he had died out of disease, or if he had broken up with me, then I could've let it go. But what do you expect me to do, when after these five years, I am forced to spend my locked up days with every single one of you who were there and watched him die?"

Bree knew she had touched on the wrong topic.

"Do you know how hard I am holding back to not shred that whore's face for what she did? Not only was he cheating on me with her, but he died trying to save her!"

"That's not fair. You don't have proof they were cheating—"

"I saw it with my own eyes," Ashlyn shot, biting her lips at the painful memories. Her lips turned a shade lighter from the high pressure against it. "I followed him one day and found out he was secretly meeting up with Natasha at her dance studio. I called, asking him where he was, but he lied every single time."

Bree was at a loss for words, watching Ashlyn crumble down in tears. Her legs weakened and she dropped to the floor, burying her face behind her hands.

"I saw them... Getting intimate... They were touching each other... And..."

Her words were inaudible when her loud cries had taken over. Bree quickly squatted down on the floor besides her, pulling her into a hug.

Suddenly it became much clearer why Ashlyn hated Natasha so much. She had always believed the reason was because Steven tried to save Natasha before he got trapped in the fire outbreak, but there was much more to it. It was worse because Ashlyn never got the closure she needed, unable to question him for a proper answer. And judging on her flimsy relationship with Natasha, questioning her was never an option.

"This was why I avoided all of you. Seeing you all reminds me of the moments we spent together. I wished to erase them. I wished to forget them. But I can't." Ashlyn broke down into ugly sobs, hunching her back as she reciprocated Bree's pitiful embrace.

"I'm so sorry," Bree spoke, having no other words to comfort. She was not one to provide encouraging words; she preferred to use brute force to solve problems. This was an event that even her greatest strength could not resolve.

"I wish I could say that things are going to get better, but I honestly don't know myself," she said, genuinely speaking from her heart. "So keep holding on."

Ashlyn's tormented cries resonated through the room. It hurt, and she had no idea how to express this aching she had suppressed within her this entire time. Hearing Bree's words triggered more sadness to wash over her tragedy, and in the same way, was the anchor she needed to hold on to.

"You managed to go through yesterday's problems, you can get through today's."

***

Their bodies were well adjusted to the internal clock system, waking up around the time when others gathered in the dining room to have breakfast. Food supplies were slowly running out, and none of them bothered to cook a proper meal. With death on its chase, one could only think to get by without enjoying the luxuries of life.

Maddie ad woken up as early as possible, relieved to find Ginny sleeping soundlessly on the bedsheets she had sprawled across the floor. Maddie was still breathing and felt slightly bad for giving Ginny the benefit of the doubt. She quietly tiptoed her way out of the room, ready to face a new day.

When she got to the kitchen early, she was honestly surprised to find Damon seated at his regular spot, calmly eating some breakfast cereal.

"Morning," she greeted intuitively.

"Morning," he replied, not looking up.

It was just the two of them. Perfect.

"Do you think the Game Master is someone we know?" She questioned out of nowhere, watching his reaction attentively.

Damon left his spoon at the bowl, calmly chewing the cereal in his mouth, looking at her with a distant gaze. "Why would you ask that?" He returned the question back to her.

"Because the more I think about it, I can only come up with the conclusion that the Game Master is someone who knew we were once all very close. Out of everyone, why were the twelve of us chosen?"

"The teachers selected us from each department," Damon answered her question logically. But there was a sudden second of realization in him, a change in his glint that paled up. "Unless the teacher was tricked into this."

"What?"

"The Game Master is manipulative and smart, that we know. He or she could've tricked our instructor into believing we were doing a reality TV show."

"So it must be someone that the teachers trust?"

Damon shrugged. He picked up his spoon and continued eating. "You seem as if you know something."

"No, I just wanted a criminologist's opinion," Maddie spoke with believable calmness she had trained herself to convey. She did not fully trust him enough to share the notebook with yet.

"Really?" But he was just as excellent as she was in his own field. "Why would you not inquire your boyfriend's opinion?"

The statement was meant as mockery, yet, Maddie couldn't help but feel her heart race uncontrollably at the status alone. She thought of the kiss last night and felt her cheeks blushing. "I- I do not want him to remember the past."

Damon did not respond to that and continued slurping down his cereal. His attention had left her, and she just awkwardly stood there in silence. When she decided to move, he surprised her with another question.

"Do you think Steven is involved?"

Maddie blinked her eyes, amazed he was on the right track without her having to give away too much information.

"I think he is the reason we're trapped."

***

Damon thought about Maddie's words long after the girl had left him alone. He knew she was one of the smartests one who would most probably be willing to cooperate. He had an intuition since the beginning that everything revolved around Steven's death. But what?

His train of thoughts was interrupted when someone shuffled her way into the kitchen. He looked up, meeting Bree who looked completely appalled to find him there by himself. She threw her glance away and strolled along as if he was invisible.

"Not acknowledging someone's presence is impolite. Good morning to you too," Damon spoke calmly, but as always, that dark twist was present in his tone.

Bree just couldn't let this go and turned on her heels to face him. She approached him and slammed her hand against the table. The plate trembled in response. "If the person is a human being, it would be impolite yes. But, you my friend, haven't you looked at the mirror to see what kind of a monster you're becoming?"

Damon smirked, always so amused at the nonsense this girl blurted out to him. "A monster? What makes you say that?"

"You are the only one who plays this game without consideration for other people's feelings," Bree said.

"Do I have to remind you, you almost sacrificed Ashlyn's life to save your own?" Damon questioned her sinisterly, and the slyness returned to his face as she flinched. "You may insult me all you want, but at least I don't pretend to care for other people's life. You are right, I simply don't."

Bree gritted her teeth, so frustrated and annoyed to the point she wanted to smack his head off. But she knew he was speaking the truth, which triggered her anger.

"Still," she clenched her hands into a fist, veins nearly popping, "Though I may have been selfish in the past, it doesn't mean I don't get a chance at redemption."

"A chance at redemption?"

"I do not want to let my past actions justify whom I am today or what I can become tomorrow," Bree said, her voice softening in the hope that Damon would understand. "A bad deed doesn't vindicate you into a criminal for the rest of your life. We all have a chance to change."

A smug grin played on Damon's lips, and it was hard to determine how he truly felt about her words. He took notice of others' presence collected by the entrance; fearing they might interrupt an argument, but ready to step in if a fight were to commence.

"In that case," Damon threw the next mission card on the table, visible for everyone to see, "Why don't you practice this chance at redemption at the next game of death?"

With that, he simply left the room, passing the others who were blocking the entrance. They now swarmed inside the dining room, as if Damon's presence was what stopped them earlier.

Jay was the first one to get his hand on the mission card, looking at others to gain permission to read it out loud. When his silent question was met with mute answers, he proceeded.

Two people are united to find the matching cards to be sighted.
Each contains a deadly method; hurting your partner in a way you suggested.
Find a match thrice in order to end this vice.

Along with it came a map that marked a room they had never entered before. Then a small silver key fell along on the table, presenting an eerie wonderment of what laid behind the locked doors.