Young Writers Society

A chill ran down her spine and suddenly Ayesha was back into her senses. "What! How is this even possible? Jeez! I hope they caught the murderer. Do you know who was the victim?"

Ayesha felt she just bombarded this stranger with too many questions who was in quite a shock herself.

"Umm I'm sorry for acting all paranoid. I guess I over slept through my power nap." Ayesha face palmed out of embarrassment. "Ahh... What did you say your name was?"

"Uhh..." Jerica looked at the girl for a long moment. Either Ayesha wasn't a threat at all -- or she was very good making herself seem non-threatening. Jerica wasn't going to take any chances. "I don't know."

She was silent for a moment, thinking about just leaving it at that -- there was no real need for her to know Jerica's name, now was there? But, then, there also didn't seem to be any particular harm in her knowing it, either.

"Name's Jerica, though," Jerica said at last, glancing past her shoulder. "Are you... here alone?"

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Ayesha noticed some hesitance in Jerica's response. Maybe she too was in a shock like her or was she having doubts about Ayesha?

"Yeah, I'm all by myself here." This fact suddenly made Ayesha more anxious. She doesn't have a friend with whom she would feel protected. Not that she doesn't know how to take care of herself but she's getting a bad feeling about this situation. Two heads are better than one. Maybe be she can trust with this lady.

"Umm if you don't mind can we stick together for now and go take a look around to find out what happened. I don't feel like going alone knowing that there's a killer on loose." Ayesha wasn't very sure if Jerica would agree to her proposal but she had her fingers crossed.

"No one wants to be alone with a killed on the lose," an ancient voice chirped from nearby. An old woman-- an-impossible-to-tell-how-old-she-was-because-she-looked-to-be-40-and-a-hundred-at-the-same-time woman-- strut along the hall, cane clutched in her hand, chin held high as her bun stuck itself out into the air. "Might I suggest that it is possible that we're safer alone than in groups, given that there is some credence to the idea that paranoia would be more than enough to tear groups apart? Or would that be more than you would like to think about right now, given the circumstances?"

"Oh, I'm thinking about it alright," Jerica shot back, turning so that she could see both of them at the same time. She glanced over her shoulder to be sure no one was creeping up behind, tightening her grasp on the Lysol as she looked the old woman over. "For all I know, you're both responsible."

Ayesha felt her blood running cold as she tried to apprehend what the other lady said. This woman sure had a deceiving personality but what if she was correct. No one can be trusted in such a situation.

She found herself caught between two very strange woman. One who was pointing a can of Lysol at her and other one who freaking looked like an assassin disguised as an old woman. Were they going to hurt her? She thought of just turning back into her room and shutting herself in. But why should she hide, she hadn't done something wrong.

With her fists clenched tightly, Ayesha gave a very strong look at both of them. Although she was completely freaked out from the inside but she can't afford to show her vulnerable side.

"And who gave you the right to pass judgements?"

Sinestra shrugged, examining the two people closely. "You--" she pointed her cane at Jerica-- "are quite obviously a skilled fighter, or have at least mastered one form of fighting. The way you're gripping a cleaning can shows that you do not have skills pertaining the art of household weapons, though you are probably good at using something else-- perhaps a sword?" Sinestra then placed her free hand one the base of her cane, wielding it like some sort of bat. "A frying pan might prove to be a better weapon that that petty can."

"What makes you think I need permission?" Jerica quipped, looking at Ayesha. Then she looked back at the old woman and assessed her for a long moment, skeptical. Then she finished dryly, "And sorry, I'm fresh out of frying pans. Must have forgotten to order a fresh set with my towels this morning."

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"Be careful with the sarcasm, dear," Sinestra replied, straightening her back, pulling herself to her full height (around 6'6", given that she was wearing thicker soled shoes). "It can get you nowhere and everywhere in even an instant. Such a dangerous tool, sarcasm is..."

"Someone got murdered and all you two got to discuss about is frying pans and the philosophy behind Sarcasm." Ayesha frowned at both the women and continued to say, "Certainly standing and arguing here like this is not going to change the reality. "

Ayesha then went on to face that tall old woman feeling quite annoyed ," And you Miss.. whoever you are. You just sounded so experienced about weapons. I'm sure using your expertise you would have already figuerd out the weapon that was used to carry out the murder, haven't you?"

"I've yet to examine the body," she answered very matter-of-factly. "My name is Sinestra Hopkins-Jones; you may call me Sinestra or Healer, whichever you prefer."

"I feel Sinestra suits you more," Ayesha smirked at her. "By the way I'm Ayesha and the Lysol girl goes by the name Jerica."

Maddie stoped mid step, looking again at the two people. She didn't know why, but they didn't really give her a good feeling. Well, she thought with a dry smile, nothing's really giving me a good feeling these days. Stepping back behind the corner, Maddie looked at the odd pair for a moment more, then turned around. Really, she thought exasperatedly I just had to run into the most suspicious looking people on the entire ship. Good job, Maddie. she sighed, a little annoyed at her bad luck. I’ll just have to go find some regular people. she decided. Glancing around, Madilyn crept down the hallway, listening for any sort of conversation.

Madilyn walked down the faded blue, unadorned hallway. She stopped at the sound of voices, drifting threw the walls. “My name…Sinestra Hopkins-Jones. You may call me…whichever you prefer.” Said a ancient, and oddly musical voice. “I feel Sinestra suits…more.” Responded another feminine voice. Madilyn crept closer to the voices, trying to hear better. “…I’m Ayesha and the Lysol girl-“

Lysol girl? Maddie thought, raising an eyebrow. “-goes by…Jerica.” Hmm She mused, should I introduce myself? Well…there only seems to be three people. I could probably take three people if worst comes to worst. She thought, rearranging her grip on her knife.

Though I guess it does depend on how well they can fight. She stood for a moment, weighing the risks. After a moment, she stepped out into the hallway occupied by the three people. Here it goes. She thought, bracing herself.

Jerica was indignant. Lysol-girl. Pff.

Jerica spun and aimed her Lysol at the face of a new girl as she stepped into the hall. Okay, maybe she was Lysol girl. But they'd see how well the murderer would be able to see to murder her, with a face full of Lysol.

"Who are you?" Jerica asked skeptically, eyeing the new girl.