Hello. I am Morsomk, and I am a terrorist.
I plant bombs for a living and wait for them to go boom. Then, I wait for my turn again, as the bomb-planting part of the job is passed to someone else. You see, we have this belief, this ethos, rather, that everyone should get their share. Like in Communism. It helps make the Americans hate us more, that's for sure.
So, as I was saying, I make places go boom, and then wait until I get to make other places -which usually look strangely like the previous places- go boom also.
For some weird reason, some people dislike that. And I'm fine with that dislike -we live in a free world, where everyone can voice their opinions, even if they get beat up afterwards, after all- but they have a tendency to be rather violent about it. Utterly unreasonable, them.
Ya see, one day, as I was merily going about my business, carrying my bomb to make it go boom in a very nicely marked part of some city in the middle of nowhere -we don't like subtlety-, a man in blue jumps in front of me, doing a 360 turn, and shoots me in the head with a sniper rifle from the hip! How rude!
Next thing I know, here I am, in this mansion. It's not a very nice mansion. It's full of disturbing wallpaintings, skeletons running around and -urgh- the decour is horrendous! Whoever designed this place clearly has no taste, whatsoever!
Problem is, I don't really have anything to do. There's a killer on the loose, but most people here don't seem to really want to get him. They just stand idle, on the faces an expression like that of a cow, and wait until they die! There's a group of people that actively work to stop the killer, but when they try to recruit the other ones all they get is a stare with as much complexity as the thought process of a goldfish. They eventually gave up and are currently curled up in some dark corner somewhere waiting for the end to come. This situation reminds me of an old quote I read somewhere: "The price of apathy is to be ruled by evil men."
I'm pretty sure Snoop Dog said that.
Pretty sexist, though. Why does it have to be evil men? Why not evil women?
Actually, wouldn't that also be sexist? To depict the women that rule as evil, as though saying that they are not fit to hold a position of power lest they abuse the shit out of it? Goddamn it, Cersei, we're trying to pass a message here!
Anyway, all that crawling into a corner and crying? I'm not gonna do that. For I, have a cunning plan that cannot fail.
Ya see, when I died, the bomb I was carrying with me followed me to the afterlife. Why? Well, maybe God decided that the bomb was a bad enough ************ for it to deserve an eternity of having its backside penetrated by pitchforks. I dunno, doesn't make sense to me either.
Anyway, the bomb gave me an idea. A very good one. Quite the intellectual, this bomb. I have planted it in a room upstairs. All I have to do is bait the killer to the room that's under it, and have the falling debris crush him like a bug! Brilliant!
I stand in a very long corridor, with a seemingly endless amount of doors left and right. It's a mess, having random stuff thrown around -like a casket, or Gray Fox- for seemingly no reason. Hopefully I'll find the killer soon; I always had an itchy trigger finger and a tendency to blow my load too quickly. Explains why I never could keep a girlfriend.
"Hellooooo?" I shout, hoping to draw his attention, "Is there anybody out there?"
No response. Guess I'll have to try harder.
"Helloooo? Look, I know there's a killer out there. Can you come out? I just wanna talk!"
"Just... talk?!" A hooded figure coming out of a very dark room says "I just had a 'just talk' moment with some other guy. Ended up having his flesh melted off. You better not irritate me aswell,"
Ah, here is our killer. I thought he'd be taller, all things considered.
"Well, it's not like you have much of a choice, right? Everyone else is either braindead or crying! Too little social interaction and you'll get depressed! Or turn into a sociopath."
"You do realise I kill people, right?"
"Yes?"
"So, you could say I already *am* a sociopath."
"Is that self-depreciation I spy? Clearly a sign of the depression setting in!"
"Urgh... you know, I already just went through this kind of convo, so fuck it. You're dead."
"You know, random violent outbursts are common with depre- oh shit!"
The killer starts sprinting at me. Lucky for me, there's a fair distance for him to cover, so I am able to turn tail and run. The baiting went very well. Too well. Thanfully, though he was gaining ground, I am able to make it back to the room with the trap.
"Nowhere to go... I should thank you. I've been growing fat lately, needed some excercise."
"Oh, you're quite welcome, my dear friend! Exercise is one of those things recommended by psychologists to people suffering from depression, after all!"
"Still going on with that, huh? You sure are a very brave, and very stupid man. Now, how to kill you?"
The bomb starts beeping. Good, gooood.
"I'm afraid you won't be doing any of the killing this time. Ya hear that?"
"Yes, I hear the beeping."
"I planted a bomb upstairs. It's gonna blow any second now and you'll end up like a Road Roller rolled through you."
"Oh, what cunning plan." the killer said in a strangely deadpan way. "Woe is me, to be felled by your brilliance. Except..."
*BOOM*
"I changed the positioning."
"Wha-" I look up. "Oh SHI-"
*SPLAT!*
"Terrorists win, he he he."