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A random piece of fanfiction based around a puzzle game called "James Noir's Hollywood Crimes" I played and reviewed during my brief tenure as a video game critic for Loki's Planet. It was the last game I played for them, and certainly the one I both loved and hated the most. For reasons I'll discuss at the end, Matt Booker remains one of my favorite characters of all time.

For the sake of Internet, let me put up a disclaimer:

Let me be honest. Hollywood Crimes was pretty terrible. For a puzzle game, it had a great story, but the pacing was rushed and the puzzles were, for the most part, absolute crap. And after all, it's a puzzle game—the puzzles should be the best part! Failing that, though, I wanted so badly to correct the pacing issues and make the dialogue not as terrible/un-silence the protagonist, and wanted to see if I could do it.

BEWARE: THIS FIC IS PLOT-BASED. HERE THERE BE SPOILERS. EVERYTHING IN THIS FIC IS SPOILERS. YOU HAVE BEEN DULY WARNED IN ALL CAPS AND LARGE, BOLD FONT THAT THERE ARE SPOILERS IN THIS FIC. IF YOU DISLIKE SPOILERS, PLEASE LEAVE.

A lot of the dialogue is taken verbatim straight from the game, but I've also added a fair amount of dialogue of my own. I messed with a few of the letters and conversations to give the other characters a bit of spotlight, but the overall story is the same. Some answers to story puzzles are given. Unabashed inclusion of an author avatar because the game was written with Audience Protagonist well in effect.

(Also for sake of Internet, a warning/rating: If this were on FFN or something, I'd have to rate it T for language and corpses and blood and such. It's a murder mystery in the 1960s, just know what you're getting into.)

All that said, enjoy if you must.

AJ's first day in Hollywood was a blur. Someone from the studio met her at the airport and escorted her to her hotel with instructions to be at the studio in an hour for interviews.

"Interviews?" AJ asked.

"For the Hollywood Report. You and Mr. White will be giving them together."

"Oh. Marcus is already here?"

"Mr. White lives nearby. He won't be in the hotel," the aide said.

"I see."

"Please be on time. We won't wait if you're late."

The aide left, giving AJ time to unpack and marvel at the place. It was a nice hotel room, she had to admit. She had a spacious bedroom with a wide open window on the far side, overlooking the streets of Hollywood. A little wooden desk and chair sat in front of the door, already stacked with her bags. There was a tiled, white bathroom tucked away near the closet where she was hanging up her clothes. If she was going to be here for several weeks, she'd get to know every inch of the room, she was sure.

For now, though, she had to get down to the studio.

"Welcome back to the studio, Miss Kline!" Glenn Darnby was waiting at the front of the studio, smiling broadly at her as she arrived. He was a short man, barely an inch taller than petite little AJ. "Come in, come in, we've got to get you all made up."

"Made up?" AJ had to admit, she knew nothing of Hollywood or its mysterious, star-studded ways.

"Well, you can't give an interview unless you look your best," Darnby said sagely. "It's cruel, but it's Hollywood, you understand."

"Right."

"Have you thought about what you're going to say?" Darnby asked.

"I, er. I assumed they would be asking questions, and I would just answer," AJ said, trailing off meekly. Darnby laughed.

"Oh, yes! But you have to be careful what you say, else these Hollywood pitbulls make a mockery of you before the fun even begins," he cautioned. Taking a look at AJ's horrified face, he added, "But don't worry, my dear. It's your first day in Hollywood, just relax."

Darnby led her through the studio to the dressing room, where Marcus was already waiting. A few hair and makeup assistants scuttled around the room, brushing color into their cheeks and shine into their hair. AJ recoiled from one who was attempting to jab her in the eye with a pencil, but ultimately gave in to the onslaught of beauty-makers.

"Ah! Mr. Darnby, with our new friend."

AJ smiled as best she could with three people hovering around her, nodding to Marcus. "Hello, Mr. White."

"Please, call me Marcus."

"Do you two know each other?" Mr. Darnby asked. Marcus shrugged.

"We met at the audition."

AJ coughed as one of the assistants attacked her with hairspray. She suddenly felt naked and embarrassed. "A worthy opponent, if I recall correctly."

Darnby grinned, looking between the two of them. "You're gonna make a wonderful pair. Let's get through this interview and then we'll all head out for drinks."

After a short time, AJ and Marcus were brought to the Puzzle Masters stage, mostly empty save for a few dozen reporters. The stage was expansive and colorful, the various boards and pieces of the show's eponymous puzzles stacked and piled off to one side. There were three seats in the middle of the stage. Two were there all the time, but the third was added just for the interview. Darnby took a seat behind his desk as the show's host, directing the two contestants to sit beside him. Marcus took the chair that every Puzzle Masters contestant used on the show, while AJ settled between them.

"Mr. Darnby, how do you feel about this year's contestants?" someone asked.

"I think we're in for an excellent run this season," Darnby replied, his voice taking on its familiar, friendly-yet-impersonal tone. "Marcus and AJ are going to be fantastic."

"Mr. Darnby!"

"Mr. White!"

"Miss Kline!"

"One at a time, please!" shouted a production assistant, attempting to corral the reporters.

Is it always like this? AJ wondered naively.

"Don't worry," Darnby whispered. "Reporters aren't allowed into the shows."

She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Mr. White! When did you first start solving puzzles?"

"I, ah, I've always just sort of liked puzzles, I guess," Marcus answered awkwardly. "I've been a puzzle fanatic my whole life."

"Miss Kline! How does it feel to be the first female contestant on the show?"

AJ blinked. You know, she'd never really thought about it, but all three of the past champions had been male, competing against a male opponent. "Am I really? I am, aren't I?"

The roomful of people laughed.

"Well, er, I suppose I'm both honored to be the first and disappointed that no one came before me," she summed up, clasping her hands firmly in front of her to avoid fidgeting.

"Mr. White! What do you do for a living?"

"Uh, I'm a history professor," Marcus said. "I teach law in American history."

"Mr. Darnby! How did you find these contestants?"

"Same as always, we hold open auditions here at the studio. We were looking for a different kind of candidate for season four, and I think we've found it in these two."

"Miss Kline! Where do you live?"

"Most recently, I lived in Sacramento, but I've traveled all over the country. I play piano for an orchestra, and as the orchestra moves, so do I."

"To the contestants, do you feel like you have a good chance of winning this year?"

Marcus and AJ looked at each other. "Well, uh..."

"I'm not sure yet," AJ said finally. "Marcus seems to be very smart, I think he'll give me a good fight."

Marcus laughed. "A very worthy opponent. But, if I thought I couldn't win, I wouldn't be here."

AJ nodded. "Nor would I."

The interview continued in much the same frenzied manner for nearly two hours, Darnby finally calling a halt to it and sending the reporters packing with the explanation that the contestants needed to get to know each other better. The thought of this seemed to excite the reporters, who left just as quickly as AJ suspected they had arrived.

"That... was exhausting." Marcus exhaled deeply, looking around the now empty stage. "Don't tell me we have to do more of those."

"Just a few," Darnby said. "You get used to them, kid."

AJ's shoulders drooped a little. More of those? It suddenly occurred to her that turning two undoubtedly introverted, shy, awkward people into overnight television stars was not the best idea. Not for the shy people, anyway; it probably made for interesting reporting.

"Stop worrying!" Darnby laughed. "Further interviews are one on one until the show wraps."

Not sure if that was better or worse, AJ let the makeup assistants to fuss over her once again.

"Come on, girls. Drinks are on me tonight." Darnby had poked his head into one of the doors they had passed on their way to the stage. "It'll be fun."

"Just one, then I'm back here." The show's producer, Trudy Mills, sidled out of her office, looking at the two contestants. "You look terrible."

"They look fine," Darnby insisted, Marcus and AJ frowning at each other. "It's just the stage makeup."

The show's beautiful blonde Southern belle Monique Austin followed Trudy out, bouncing excitedly. "I've been dying to meet you both. I can't wait to get to know you!"

"There'll be plenty of time for that," Darnby said. "Let's get going."

Darnby took them to a busy bar across the street from the studio. AJ suspected that most of NHN's studio employees came here after the workday was over, there were a good number of recognizable faces in the throng of people choking the cramped, smoky building.

"What'll you have, dear?" asked a hassled-looking waitress.

"Scotch," Trudy said simply.

"Cognac for me, and a mint julep for Monique," Darnby said.

"Ah, bourbon?" Marcus said quickly, more of a question than a drink order.

"And you?"

AJ panicked. She didn't drink. "Do you have iced tea?" she asked.

"Sure." The waitress vanished.

"So!" Darnby clapped his hands together, looking around the table. "The pair of you are signed on for the season. Are you excited?"

"Definitely," Marcus said. "I can't wait to get started."

"Your first film shoot is on Wednesday," Trudy said, sounding bored as always. "10AM sharp, don't be late. You're next week," she shot at AJ.

"Right."

"Oh, loosen up, Trudy!" Monique said, smiling her trademarked and copyrighted eye candy smile. "It'll be a great season, I can tell."

"A smart bunch, to get past the preliminary tests," Darnby remarked. AJ frowned. Her preliminary puzzle had been criminally easy, had the show's intensity dropped while she wasn't looking?

"Here you are." The waitress had returned with their drinks, setting them down on the table before them.

"Excellent. Well, cheers to a great time, to puzzles, and to season four's competitors!" Darnby raised his drink, clinking it with the rest of the table. AJ smiled. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

Taking a sip of her drink, she immediately gagged, scrunching up her face. A sour, bitter taste assaulted the back of her throat as she coughed.

"A-Are you all right?" Marcus asked, concerned. AJ nodded, pushing the drink away from her.

"It's just a Long Island," Monique noted. "If it's that bitter, they must have made it wrong."

"No, I just— I don't drink," AJ admitted. "I don't like alcohol."

The table looked at her as though she were speaking a different language.

AJ sighed. Well, Hollywood.



"Welcome to NHN, home of your favorite TV show, The Incredible Puzzle Masters! Now, please welcome your host, Glenn Darnby!"

AJ blinked. The lights were so bright. How did anyone get anything done around here? She was sitting in the contestant's seat on the set of Puzzle Masters, wearing an uncomfortably scratchy, bright blue dress that the show's various backstage hands had made her wear. They had allowed her to start the show sitting rather than force her to walk out in the ungodly high heels the studio kept around in the costuming department. And thank goodness for that: there had to be several hundred people in the audience.

"Thank you, thank you! That's a warm welcome," Darnby said, grinning broadly for the camera. "Let's have a round of applause for our ravishing Monique!"

The curtains went up by the scoreboard as Monique strutted onto the stage. "Thank you, Glenn! Let's play!"

Things were happening so fast. It didn't feel this fast when she watched it at home, AJ thought. But then, watching television and being on it were two different things.

"Yes, Monique. Let's go over the rules."

AJ sat back in her chair, bored. As if anyone in the audience didn't already know the rules. Two contestants alternated each week, solving puzzles and trying to beat the round's target score. Once someone failed, all the opponent had to do was win the round, and they'd take the game and win the prize: a yearlong trip around the world, all expenses paid. In the back of her mind, AJ wondered just how affluent NHN studios was, that they could furnish this prize every season. With the kind of ratings that the Puzzle Masters show regularly brought in, though, she supposed it made sense.

"Now, let's welcome our second and newest contestant for this year's show! Lovely young pianist and our first female contestant, AJ Kline!"

There was applause as the spotlights shone on her. If it had been bright before, it was nothing compared to now. She bowed a little in her seat, a poorly disguised attempt to allow her eyes to adjust to the light.

"Welcome to YOUR show!" Darnby said. "Tell us a little bit about yourself, AJ!"

AJ blinked. What was there to tell? She'd already been interviewed. "Erm. My name is AJ Kline, and I play piano for an orchestra up in Sacramento," she said delicately.

"Where do you get your accent from? It's lovely," Darnby noted. Ah. Now she saw the game. Darnby was throwing her softballs to get her into the game.

"I was brought up in Wolverhampton before my parents moved us to the States when I was six," AJ explained. "Can't get rid of it now."

The audience laughed, Darnby smiled charmingly at her. "How fascinating. Well, enough small talk, let's get down to business: solving puzzles!"

Attention turned back to the scoreboard. AJ's row was blank for now. Marcus's score for the round out of 80 points was 85. AJ smiled. She could do better, easily.

And do better she did. Darnby threw puzzle after puzzle at her. This is kid stuff. Take off the training wheels, Darnby.

Four puzzles and a few commercial breaks later, Monique called time and tallied the score.

"110 points for the round! Now THAT is an impressive total!" Darnby clapped along with the rest of the audience. "I look forward to seeing more of what you've got in store for us! Next week, we'll see if Marcus can beat the second round score of 160 points. Big thanks to the studio audience, and to everyone watching at home! See you next week on The Incredible Puzzle Masters!"

The audience applauded as the lights faded, the cameras turning off. Gradually, the people in the studio cleared out. AJ realized just how hot it had been on the stage, under all the lights, once they were outside.

"Nice job today," producer Trudy Mills, the bored-looking woman from the audition process told her. "Be back here in two weeks at 10 AM to shoot round two."

"Right. I'll be here."

Instead of taking a taxi, AJ decided she would walk back to the hotel. It was only a block, and it was a pleasant evening outside. The streets were empty. No one bothered her. Hollywood, she decided, had its peaceful moments.





AJ skimmed through the article, vaguely intrigued. She flipped the page, sipping the apple juice she had gotten with her breakfast. There was a chart of the total points that she and Marcus had each earned, along with a series of letters to the editor from fans of the show. It looked like Marcus was the favorite to win, by a landslide. Oh, well. If she had been doing this for audience support, she wouldn't have done it at all.

"Ms. Kline? You have some mail." The bellboy left a small stack of letters on the counter of her room. "If you keep playing the way you played last night, you'll keep getting more."

"Oh. Thank you, sir."

She turned back to the paper, the horoscopes. AJ had never placed much faith in the things, but they were always interesting to read.

"Gemini: Your mind's clear and your skills will be useful in your personal life. An old friend may come back." Right. Like who? The friends she'd had in the past that she didn't still keep up with had been firmly left there.

The telephone rang. "Kline."

"Miss Kline! Excellent work yesterday!" Glenn Darnby's voice came through the earpiece, sounding very pleased. "Listen, I want to take you out. Grab a drink with me tonight."

"Er— what?"

"Come on, it'll be fun."

AJ stared into the mirror on the wall. She wasn't fond of alcohol, but, after all... it was Glenn Darnby. She could always have a water. "Sure. All right, where?"

"I'll come get you at your hotel. I look forward to seeing you!"

Darnby hung up. AJ stared at the telephone, slightly overwhelmed. Darnby was so energetic. Perhaps some of his energy would rub off, the past few days had left her exhausted.



"Reports are coming in of some bizarre murders. The killer is reported to have left many puzzles at the crime scenes. Hollywood Police Department chief Captain Dawson gave a press conference just moments ago."

A harassed-looking police chief appeared on the screen.

"We've received calls about possible murders around Hollywood. We've had a look at the crime scene, and yes, puzzles were left—"

The bartender switched off the television set. Darnby sat back in his chair, nursing his drink.

"Thanks for turning that off. I've had enough puzzles for a while!" He laughed, looking expectantly at AJ. She gave a courteous little chuckle, wondering why on earth she had agreed to this. The show was fun, but she had quickly discovered that Darnby was not. An inwardly-focused girl like her had no business drinking with a game show host. Particularly one that insisted on buying her a drink after she repeatedly refused.

"Thanks for accepting my invitation," Darnby said. "Don't get the wrong idea about me, I like to grab a drink after each contestant's first show. And let me tell you, that was a fantastic debut!" Darnby added, laughing. "I mean—"

"Hey, buddy, how about you take a sip of your fancy drink and leave us alone, will you?"

AJ looked past Darnby at the man who had spoken. He was showing Darnby an official-looking badge. Was it... no. It couldn't be. Could it? The hair was right, a short, golden brown. He was tall, easily a good five or six inches over the little Darnby. He wore a dark blue suit with no tie, polished black shoes, and a serious demeanor.

It can't be...

Darnby grumbled, his mood immediately dampened by the interruption. "Well. I don't usually like being told what to do, but since it sounds like it's the FBI..." He cast a glance at AJ. "Have fun. Just remember... you need me more than you think." He got up and left, drink in hand. FBI? What?

"Hey, Aoife... it's me. Matt Booker?" Matt sat down, smiling awkwardly.

"Yes, I remember," AJ said, still in shock.

Matt Booker. How could she forget? An old friend, from their days at school and in college. They'd grown up together, he'd been her first friend when her family had moved from the United Kingdom to California. They'd gotten together in college for a brief period in their final year. She'd ended it not long after they graduated, as she wanted to pursue music while Matt had no drive to pursue anything. She had maintained the belief that they were too different to be romantically involved ever since. After they broke up, they fell out of touch. She'd stopped using Aoife as well. Too Irish for the States to pronounce, a stubborn souvenir from her Irish-German father. Matt Booker, though, bless him for remembering how to say it properly.

"My goodness. How long's it been, now. Two years?" she tried, grasping at her memories of college.

Matt nodded. "Give or take a few months."

"How are you, Matt?"

"I'm probably the last person you wanted to see, but I'm good. I've been fine since we split up," Matt said. "I got a job—Lieutenant Matt Booker, FBI."

AJ's eyes widened. "FBI? As in the Federal Bureau of Investigation? The FBI? You?"

"You sound surprised."

"I just... didn't think you had it in you." AJ leaned back in her chair, still not touching the gin and tonic Darnby had ordered her. If he left without paying and stuck her with the tab, she would throw a fit... or, rather, be extremely huffy with him the next time she saw him. "So. Are you in Hollywood for business or pleasure?"

"Business, I'm afraid." Matt retrieved a photograph from his jacket pocket. "I saw you watching the news. I'm on that case, for the Puzzle Killer."

"The Puzzle Killer?"

"Yeah. What the chief didn't say, was that all the victims are former winners of that puzzle show you're on."

AJ frowned. Attention seeking murderer? This sounded like something she ought to steer well clear of.

"I heard you were in town for the show, and I could use your skills."

"Is... is this legal?"

"Probably."

AJ stared at him. "I'm not going to get arrested for helping you, am I? What is this, anyway?"

"There are puzzles left at the crime scene. We've come to some conclusions, but I want to hear yours. Take a look."

AJ examined the photograph. A crime scene? This looked more like a beach.

"Look at the matches, near the edge there."

"The matches..." She tilted her head, putting it together. "They spell 265 if you match the burned ones with the new."

"That's what we got, too. During our investigation, we checked the wood pile from several different angles. Take a look, tell me what you see. There's paint on it, and—"

"There's a number 9 right there," AJ said blandly, pointing to one of the pictures. "What color is it?"

"Red."

"Does that matter?"

"No. There's something else, once we moved the wood. There's some more carved pieces, engraved. Handmade. What do you make of it?"

"Linked together..." AJ pondered over the photographs for a minute. It was difficult to solve things like this, with nothing to feel or mess around with. It was how she solved a lot of puzzles, through touch and incessant fiddling. "When you put them together, they spell AVENUE."

"Yeah, that's it."

"So, 265 9th Avenue?" AJ guessed.

"Right. It's an address in Hollywood Hills, and that's where we found the second victim on the roof of his house. We still don't know how he got killed. As you can see, he has a cube in each hand. What do you think of these?"

He slid more pictures across the table at her. What was this, anyway? The poor bloke was sprawled out on his roof, two cubes in hand.

"There were tiles that came with this one, weren't there?" AJ asked, tapping the leftmost cube.

"How'd you know?"

"If you lay the tiles on the path, like this," AJ said, tracing a path along the picture of the cube, "it should open up once you reach the checkered square. This is an easy one."

"You're good."

"What was inside?"

"We'll come back to that. Tell me about this second cube?" Matt asked, pointing to one that looked like a clock with letters rather than numbers.

"The dials... they should all point to the same letters. For this one..." AJ studied the photograph carefully. She had never been good with clocks and angles. "C, U, and L."

"Perfect."

"If you solved all these already, why are you asking for help?"

"Second opinion."

"What do you mean, second opinion? There's only one answer to all of these," AJ pointed out.

"Now about what was inside," Matt went on. Classic Matt: a man of few words and fewer explanations. "The puzzles from the first scene gave us the address of the second victim. So these clues should lead us to a new victim."

AJ paled. "You mean the police isn't watching the houses of all the past winners?"

"No, but they ought to." Matt slid two pieces of paper across the table to AJ. "What are the missing numbers?"

AJ read them over. 34/_/46 and 118/119/_. "They look like map coordinates."

"Well, whatever they are, they're useless without all the numbers," said Matt, sounding put off.

"It's 34/35/46 and 118/119/130," AJ said.

"Thanks. I'll have my guys take a look at these numbers."

"Map coordinates."

"Maybe map coordinates." Matt picked up the papers, scribbled on them, and pocketed them again. "Take care, and hey... good luck with the show."

"Thank you, Matt." AJ got up as well. "I should be getting back to my hotel room."

"Let me call you a cab. I think Darnby ditched you."

AJ groaned, reaching for her pocketbook. Matt beat her to it, settling the tab with a crisp bill of his own.

"I've got it. Darnby didn't strike me as the type to pay for a lady's drink."

AJ shook her head, smiling. "I don't know why I agreed to come out with him. I'm not much of a drinking buddy."

"You never were."

They walked outside, Matt pausing before shutting the door behind them. "Be careful. You may very well be in danger," he said.

"If I know one thing, it's that I'm leaving the show," AJ said decisively. "If there's the slightest chance Marcus and I could get killed, I'll be leaving town in the morning, and if Marcus knows what's good for him, he won't be far behind."

"Don't do that!" Matt said quickly, casting a glance around the street. Mostly deserted, and what few people there were, were drunk enough to forget. "You can't quit now. I thought you loved puzzles."

"I do," AJ said matter of factly. "But I also enjoy being alive."

"You shouldn't let this scare you," Matt said reassuringly. "It could just be coincidence that they're all puzzle masters."

AJ stared at him.

"Ok, maybe it's not coincidence," Matt conceded. "But how would it look if you left the show now? What about your contract, what if Marcus gets killed because you left? The media firestorm will make my job a whole lot harder. Don't leave," Matt implored.

AJ sighed. "Fine. I do like the puzzles Darnby gives me, even if I've just tonight discovered that I can't stand him as a man."

Looking pleased with himself, Matt flagged down a taxicab. "Don't worry. I'll take care of you"

"I... appreciate that."

Matt smiled offhandedly as AJ entered the car. "I'll handle it."

With that, he closed the door, the cab driving off towards the hotel.

"Boyfriend?" asked the cab driver, speeding off towards the Roosevelt.

"Former," AJ said. The rest of the drive was quiet.

Sitting back down in her room, AJ sat down to open some of the mail she had received. It was mostly letters from home, from Mr. Brooks, and a lone fan from Ohio. She chuckled. Perhaps fame wasn't so terrible.

AJ fell fast asleep once she returned to the hotel room. She dreamt of shadowy silhouettes, men reduced to mere outlines of their former selves. The outlines became tangled, and colorful. Which thread should she pull to unravel the whole ball of death? The old champions, the old Puzzle Masters, the great logicians of Studio 41, murdered in what she could only assume was cold blood. The darkest shadow had a knife. Or was it a gun? Rope, perhaps? The sheer vastness of ways in which a person could be killed towered over her subconscious, each death cycling past her field of vision. Each was worse than the last.

She might have slept for days or weeks before the distorted ring of the telephone woke her up. Head pounding, she picked it up.

"Kl-Kline."

"You see the show? Well, you've gotta get down here fast," Trudy's voice said. "We've gotta shoot your round now because tomorrow, Darnby goes to the clinic or something."

"Darnby...?" No, she hadn't watched the show. "Must've missed it."

"He's the toad, but you've got to come down here nonetheless. It's in your contract, so hurry up."

Taking a deep breath, AJ gathered her composure, walked outside, and hailed a cab to the studio.



"Let's go see our fabulous contestant!"

Applause. "Welcome back. Things are getting serious!"

AJ snapped to attention. Serious? Things? What things?

"This is your third round!" Darnby announced. Oh. Those things. "Now, let's play for that trip around the world!"

AJ stopped listening, just waiting for him to give her a puzzle. Of 240, Marcus had pulled away with 280. He was picking it up, just as she was beginning to feel the pressure. But, it wasn't the show she was worried about anymore.

She solved the puzzles, growing calmer with each one. Feelings, she had a hard time with. Panic especially. It was so rare an occurrence, a thing that genuinely upset her, that shook her to her core, that it was exceptionally difficult to handle. The memorization, recitation, and performance of facts and logic, that she could handle. Even if she did end up wasting several sheets of paper on the numberlink puzzle.

In the end, the score was Marcus: 280, AJ: 320.

"The score is reached, ladies and gentlemen, another fantastic performance!" The audience applauded.

"I agree, Glenn, what a great round!"

"You've been terrific, looks promising for round 4." Darnby smiled at her. "That's another mighty fine total. Now, next round's total is 320 points. Looks like you're in good shape!"

The audience laughed.

AJ walked out of the studio alone that night, heading back home. The entire show she had just taped was nothing but a blur in her mind.

Puzzles are Getting Serious!

"We're in for a 4th round at The Puzzle Masters! AJ Kline won the fourth round with some serious panache. It won't be much of a problem to sell the show in Europe, especially with those sad puzzle murders."

AJ frowned at the paper. Really? Those sad puzzle murders? That was how they handled the death of past winners, of Hollywoods stars from years gone by? God. She was beginning to hate this town. The subsequent pages showed her leading Marcus by over one hundred points, now. It looked like she was getting more and more fans as well: the little stack of letters on her desk was no longer so little.

"Gemini: You're still in marvelous shape intellectually, despite some disturbing events," it said.

"You're telling me," she mumbled at it.

"Even the most peaceful places bring you their share of bad moods," the horoscope added.

AJ glowered at the paper, crumpling it up and throwing it across the room. She turned her attention to the stack of letters. The mechanical opening and unfolding of letters, the routine task she couldn't say she enjoyed, exactly, but... it did calm her down to do something routine. Something normal. Quite a few had come from fans, some of them even enclosed puzzles for her to solve. She smiled at a young girl's attempt to fool her with shapes, and opened the next. A profound love letter that had no return address, and contained a bottle of perfume that smelled like the stars at night. Setting it aside, she opened some more. There were some from the other people at the studio, even!

AJ, tired of people and their words, went to bed.

Did Matt really suspect her of the murders? After the bombshell they'd uncovered in the movie theater? She hadn't even seen her audition photo until just then. She tossed and turned until she finally fell asleep, and dreamt of dead men and the tales they would tell if only given the chance.



The next morning, the phone rang. If it's Matt again...

AJ dragged herself out of bed to answer it. "Kline."

"AJ? Did I wake you up? I'm sorry."

AJ's heart plummeted. She had completely forgotten to meet Marcus for drinks.

"Marcus, I'm so sorry! I can explain, please let me—"

"No, it's ok. Your hotel's manager said you looked to be in a bad way when someone dropped you off," Marcus said. "I-I don't mean to overstep any boundaries, but I wanted to make sure you were all right. I mean, you breezed through your last round."

"Thanks. I-I'm fine, just... had some bad news," AJ said.

"Everything all right?"

"Yes. Not to worry."

"So, um. Are we still on, then?" Marcus asked nervously. "Maybe after the next interview?"

"Interview?" AJ facepalmed. Dammit. It was tomorrow. "I completely forgot."

"So did I," Marcus laughed. "Trudy had to remind me, otherwise I wouldn't have shown up. What do you say we give the interview together and head out afterwards?"

"Sure. That would be lovely."



Instead of the frenzied, disorganized reportage of the beginning rounds, Trudy had strong-armed the magazine to send exactly one mild-mannered reporter who spoke in a normal human's tone of voice. She was a wonderful woman sometimes, Trudy.

"So, Mr. White. What's been your strategy for getting through these past few rounds?" the reporter asked, writing docilely on her notepad.

"It's been getting challenging," Marcus admitted. "But nothing I'm not prepared for. I'm not about to let Darnby get the best of me."

The reporter laughed. "What about you, Miss Kline?"

"Patience more than anything," AJ said. "Sometimes it's not about knowing the answer, it's about being willing to work long enough to come by it."

"I see. Mr. White, how do you feel about your fan base?"

Marcus shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Uh, well. I do get a lot of fan mail. I guess it's encouraging to know that there are so many people who want me to do well. I won't let them down."

"Miss Kline?"

AJ nodded mutely, racking her brain for an answer that didn't make her sound ridiculous. "It's interesting to hear from so many different people," she said. "Certainly an... an experience."

"Sounds like you have some devoted fans," the reporter said.

You have no idea.

"Miss Kline, are you seeing anyone?"

Caught completely off-guard, AJ frowned, mouth slightly agape. "Seeing...? What does that have to do with anything?"

"Our readers are just curious, that's all," the reporter assured her. Right. Curious. That's how it starts.

"No. I'm not seeing anyone," AJ said simply. "And if I have it my way, it'll stay that way, for now at least."

"I see. How are you two reacting to the Puzzle Master murders?"

AJ and Marcus looked at each other, as if expecting the other to answer first. Marcus cleared his throat.

"I think it's sad, and I mean, it's awful that someone's doing this, but... it's not as though we can go out and catch the killer," Marcus said lamely. "Solving the puzzles would be one thing, it's another entirely to get caught up in a serial killer's idea of a game."

"True," AJ agreed, unwilling to divulge too much information that she suspected she wasn't supposed to know.

"Do you fear for your lives?"

"Not at all," Marcus said at once. "I trust the police. I have a good feeling that they'll lock up the killer before too long."

"I disagree," AJ said, before she could stop herself. Both Marcus and the reporter turned to her, surprised. "I, er. Don't get me wrong, the police are doing a fine job investigating," she said quickly. "But suppose it's not enough? There's always a chance, we have to consider all the odds."

"A puzzler until the end." The reporter nodded to her, scribbling something down. AJ wondered if Matt would be upset with her for it.

As the interview wrapped, AJ got a prickly feeling on the back of her neck. She suddenly felt that someone was watching her, hearing her every word.



Author's notes about this chapter: Let me point out here for the overwhelmingly vast majority of you who (I suspect) have not played this game: You actually have very little interaction with Marcus and the rest of the studio in-game. I wish I wish I WISH they'd done interviews or something, some way to connect you to other people, but noooo. It's pretty much a whirlwind marathon of show tapings and murder solvings.

Chapter Six

Fly - Ludovico Einaudi

Is Our Puzzle Show Heading For History?

"The Puzzle Masters show is becoming historical as a 5th round will be played! Now what do you think? Is Glenn "Smoothie" Darnby more Marcus White or AJ Kline? Tell us!"

AJ skimmed through the letters to the editor and checked the points totals. She was up by nearly 200 points, and the fanbase showed it.

"Gemini: Adventure and men are following you. One will bring you a gift."

AJ frowned at the paper. She didn't have the time or the patience to put up with more men in her life, dammit. And if Matt gave her another puzzle cube that had been jammed up inside a human body, she would walk the whole way home from Hollywood.

She turned to the now sizable stack of letters, and started reading. Fan letter, fan letter, fan letter... ooh, a hate letter. Just to mix it up a little. Fan letter...

The attention was sort of nice, but she was certainly getting tired of it. She decided to go to bed, feeling foggy and not quite paying attention to anything.

There was a sandy brown envelope stuffed inside her pillowcase that shocked her to attention again. It was addressed simply "To Aoife Jean" and had no return address.

How did they know? She could count the number of people who knew her middle name on her hands. Matt, her living family, several close friends, Mr. Brooks, now Marcus...

"My dear Aoife Jean— Tonight I can't sleep. Do you care for me? Do you know everyone I kill is only for you? Would you do the same for me? Of course you would. Forgive me. I'm not myself. I must sleep."

AJ dropped the letter, and briefly considered burning it. How... the killer knew where she was. Was it safe to be here? Would she be all right?

She ransacked the hotel room, looking for others like this. Had he gotten in? Was he hiding somewhere? What would she do if he had?

There was one, dropped behind the door. "Dear Aoife Jean— Sometimes I'm doing something very ordinary, just washing my hands or driving my car when I think of you and it makes me smile. Sometimes, when I'm wiping blood from my clothes it's the same thing. I'm thinking of the smell of your blood more and more."

Head spinning, she returned to her bed. How long had these letters been here? Hours? Days? On high alert, she spotted another, slipped inside her handbag.

"Dear Aoife Jean— You didn't notice me today. It reminds me of the time I visited your apartment. I remember the mirrors, looking at me. But you were also there... It was the first time I'd ever killed and I needed to see you."

Disturbed, she shoved the rest of the letters off her desk, instead reading over the three from the Puzzle Killer.

The killer knew where she lived. Not even Trudy knew precisely where AJ called home, partly because she moved so often to be with the orchestra. How... how had anyone found out where she lived?

A gift. Was this it? No one should ever receive a gift like this. AJ decided that she hated horoscopes even more now.

She curled up in bed, wondering how on earth these letters had gotten in. Logically, they could have been accidents. Perhaps the maids weren't paying attention when they made up the room. Maybe there was just a letter for her that they figured was normal, and slipped it under the door. Perhaps someone in the waitstaff at dinner hadn't seen fit to bother her after a night of taping the show and dropped it in her bag while she wasn't looking.

But... all of them, coincidences? That was a stretch... it would require the killer to know where she was, when she was there, and how to get in and out without being noticed or causing suspicion. As far as she knew, she was the only one staying at the hotel, as Marcus lived nearby and Darnby and the rest presumably did as well. It was a lot of unlikelies to lead up to one truth.

She shook her head. Prosecutor's fallacy. Just because something is unlikely doesn't make it impossible.

The fact that she was getting these letters at all was bothersome enough.



Fortunately, the next two weeks were quiet. She demanded of the hotel staff that she change rooms into an entirely different wing of the Roosevelt. She ordered the waitstaff to keep her whereabouts secret from anyone who asked, and then rarely left the room, perhaps out of a slice of paranoia following the Puzzle Killer's letters. She had taken to leaving the lights on in the room, the better see any threats in the shadows. But there was nothing there.

"Er, may I?"

AJ was back in her dressing room, preparing for the show. The lack of murder investigations the previous fortnight had left her somewhat calmer, even if the letters had unnerved her. At the very least, she ate dinners. "Mr. Darnby."

"I heard on the news that those last three murders were ex-champions," Darnby said, entering the room and sitting down. "I know our producer Trudy was having words with all three about their rights."

"Rights?"

"You see, she's trying to sell the show overseas," Darnby explained. "It's a contract thing."

"Of course." Trudy would be on top of that.

"Well, I have to go get made up now," Darnby said, reaching into his pocket. "But I wanted to drop by and give you this. For fun."

He left a pair of interlocking rings and a slim box on the dresser table.

"See you later." He got up and left.

AJ frowned after him, disliking the tone he had taken. Once he was gone, she picked up the little rings and found a note.

"I've never had a contestant solve this puzzle. Good luck! - Glenn"

AJ read the note with disbelief. Fiddling with the rings for a moment, she ultimately succeeded in pulling them apart. She sighed. Darnby... your contestants must not be as patient as I if this mystified them.

A small key fell out of the brown ring. A cursory test proved it to unlock the slim box that Darnby had also left with her. Inside was a pair of glittering crystal earrings. AJ stared at them, not so much confused as downright offended. You HAVE to be kidding. It's not possible to be this oblivious. I don't wear jewelry, I don't even have pierced ears.

"I make better puzzles than that."

She looked up; Marcus was standing in the doorway. A cold wave of sadness washed over her. It occurred to AJ that she'd probably ignored his calls in addition to Matt's.

"Marcus—"

Looking hurt, Marcus walked away, shaking his head.

AJ slammed the box shut and shoved it to the edge of her dresser. She felt terrible.

The woman that stared back out of the mirror was pale and sleep-deprived. The stage makeup hid it well, but there was a tiredness in her eyes that nothing could mask.

"There you are. You're never here, no one can find you at your hotel... are you fleeing?" Trudy asked, appearing in the doorway after Marcus. "You have to sign documents so we can sell the show in Europe. I'll be in my office, meet me after the show. You're up."

The show began, familiar background noise at this point, as Darnby introduced her, Monique, and the game. As his eyes turned toward her, AJ noticed that Darnby looked slightly disappointed. You can't hold it against me. What am I supposed to do, wear them in my hair?

"If you succeed, it will be the first time ever that both contestants have reached the sixth round!" Darnby said to thunderous applause. AJ was beginning to find it silly that this many people turned up to watch her solve puzzles. It wasn't as though it made thrilling television; the only reason she had watched at home was to see if she could solve them first.

"But no matter what happens, you and Mr. White are the best contestants we've ever had," Darnby assured her.

The target score for the round, 400 points, was within reach. Marcus had managed a formidable 430. Back in her element, AJ attacked every puzzle thrown at her. Easy. Easy. Slightly challenging. Easy. Dammit, Darnby, stop making us both look like fools on television.

In the end, AJ pulled together an impressive 530 points.

"We have our historic moment, ladies and gentlemen, our AJ Kline has beat the fifth round!" Darnby announced to a cheering crowd. "Thanks to you, we'll have the first round six in Puzzle Masters history! Let's see the final score!"

AJ had scraped 100 points over Marcus. She was utterly destroying him. More cheers and felicitations.

"If Mr. White succeeds next week, you'll be back for a sixth round in two weeks," Darnby said. "What an exciting moment!"

AJ wanted the show to wrap, to see if she could catch Marcus. But he was gone.

"Ah, AJ. I have to say..." Darnby caught up with her on her way back to her dressing room. "I'm a little hurt that you didn't solve my puzzle."

"Oh, I did," AJ corrected, showing him the pieces of the puzzle lying on the dresser. "I just don't have any use for it."

To make her point, she pushed her hair behind her ears. Understanding and embarrassment dawned on Darnby's face.

"Ah. I see."

"I'll see you next time," AJ said, heading to Trudy's office.

"There you are. Here." Trudy was behind her desk, as per usual. "Don't worry, none of this infringes on your rights or anything. This is just so we can use your likeness for TV promos and ads."

"Right." AJ signed the papers Trudy shoved at her, not bothering to read them.

"Thanks, honey. That's all we need."

AJ nodded blankly, leaving the office.

"Are you all right?" Trudy asked, looking after her.

"Just tired," AJ said.

"Tired? Huh. Could've fooled me. Looked like you were on a roll out there."

AJ turned back to her. "Trudy, how do you handle all the stress?" she asked. "I'm not even doing the hardest work, but I feel like I'm going to explode."

Trudy laughed. "Easy. Don't feel so much."

"Feel?"

"You don't get to where I am without stepping on a few toes," Trudy said seriously. "Sometimes you have to grit your teeth and suffer through things. And sometimes you have to be a little bit cutthroat to get where you're going. Why do you think we've been getting foreign TV spots, magic?" Trudy smiled, a sort of half-smile. "I do a lot of work in this town. You're right, you have it pret-ty easy."

AJ blinked. "Of course. Right."

"Take care. See you later."





AJ frowned. But... they were. Weren't they? She wondered if someone was working with Marcus on the side, as Matt was with her. She wondered if Matt had chosen to seek her out, or if it was an assignment from a higher-up. AJ flipped the page to the score charts. She was leading by nearly 300 points now. She had started getting more hate mail as well as fan mail, as some staunch supporters for Marcus sent her angry notes, demanding that she lose. With the hate mail, though, were sweet little notes, declaring undying love for her and her puzzling skills.

That's a little much, now, isn't it?

"Gemini: Let yourself be guided by providence. Have confidence, even if you'll soon feel imprisoned."

Even though she had vowed to stop reading the horoscopes, she couldn't help but feel unnerved by this one. Imprisoned? What, by the show? She did feel a little trapped in the contract, but that was just until the show ended. She had figured out, when she signed, that if she got tired of it, she could just bomb the puzzles, be kicked off, and forfeit the prize.

As the days went by, she was starting to wish she had done that sooner.

She spent the day following her taping in the room, unable to focus on her paperback. Restlessness ultimately set in, and she got up. Perhaps a nice bubble bath would soothe her nerves.

A brown envelope, taped to the bath fixtures. AJ stared at it, transfixed. "Dearest Aoife Jean," it read. There was no explaining away this one. Someone wanted her to find this. Someone wanted her to know they were close.

"Dear Aoife Jean— I dreamt of you last night. We had only one body between us, but neither of us minded, it felt so snug tucked up inside only one. Every time we killed someone their ghost came back and thanked us, and told us how much we suited being in just one body, and how having another would have been a waste."

Terrified and decided that she didn't need a bath after all, she cast the letter into the pile of other letters from the Puzzle Killer, and went back to bed.

There was a sandy brown envelope under her pillow, taped to the bed. Had it always been there? Maybe she had missed it? It was taped down, written on rough paper, she would have felt it. Had she been using that pillow, or the other? When had it gotten there? Was someone in the room? She whirled around, turning on every light that had a switch she could find in the room before opening the letter.

"Dearest Aoife Jean- I was designing a puzzle last night— to go with the next body— and it struck me you'd find it so easy you'd lose all your respect for me. So I went to bed in a lousy mood. I woke this morning with such a wonderful idea I think I've redeemed myself. You be sure to let me know."

The letters were tormentingly, heart-wrenchingly personal, and now they were getting closer. There was nothing accidental about these two unmistakably, purposefully left letters, addressed in her name. The words echoed inside her head, in a sinister voice she could not place. There was nothing preventing the killer from getting to her now. If he could get to her room, after she'd had it changed? The killer was closer than she thought.

The room spun around her as she tried to make sense of everything. There was just no sense to be found. Someone was very, very interested in her, interested enough to repeatedly break into her hotel room. Interested enough to want her dead?

AJ stayed awake.



Author's notes about this chapter: Let me point out something about the fan mail. The fan letters from the killer were easily the creepiest thing in the whole game. Sadly, they're just delivered to you like regular mail.

BUT THEN I GOT MY IMAGINATION HANDS ON IT.

Chapter Eight

Rain - Brian Crain

"...letter... I said... hear me?"

"Huh?"

A gaunt, pale-faced woman looked up from her cell bed.

"You have a letter. Hey! You have a letter. Do you hear me? You have a letter, I said. Grab it or I'll give it to Godzilla in the next cell."

AJ rose clumsily to her feet, brushing back her stringy, unkempt hair. A letter? From who?

For the past three months, the woman called Aoife Jean Kline had been in prison. The court had ruled against her in light of the evidence she and Matt had uncovered on Mercury Street. She hadn't fought it, instead sitting in the defendant's chair, defeated even before it had begun. The files... Matt's files, on her. Schizophrenic, amnesiac, psychotic, actions, consequences... She didn't remember anything, but with a rap sheet like that, why would she?

She dreamed in swirling mists of black and white, of mazes and jack-in-the-boxes emblazoned with the disappointed faces of Darnby, Trudy, Matt, and Marcus. Each looked more disturbed than the last, their fear and anger warping their features into an unrecognizable, heart-shattering grimace. Sometimes, on the darkest of nights, she grasped in the farthest reaches of her mind to remember something, anything, to prove herself innocent or guilty. The uncertainty was worse than the court ruling. The electric chair would have to end it.

Her time in prison had ruined her. Most days, she refused to eat or drink, instead sleeping off the days like a bad hangover, as though hoping it would end in the morning that never came. She was emaciated, corpselike, her eyes sunken into her head, rolling unpredictably when she was asked a question about the murders.

"I didn't kill anyone."

But the world saw an insane, guilty woman.

She picked up the letter. It was written on brown paper, there was no return address. Familiar, somehow...?

"Dear Aoife Jean— You may believe you're the killer, but you're not. I know you're not— because I am."

In the weak mid-afternoon light of the cell, AJ spent hours going over the opening line. Disbelief. Incredulity. Someone... believed her? Granted, the murderer believed her. The real one. Could it be true? Real? Was it a blessing or a curse?

Finally, grasping at the truth, she read on.

"Now you must escape if you wish to save your friend Matt Booker. You show this letter to anyone, or you fail to escape, and he's dead."

Her head pounded, heart racing. No. This couldn't be.

"You have ten days."

She took a deep breath.

"This letter will help you many times along the way. But surely, someone as smart as you will solve the puzzles of a prison escape."

There was a coded message beneath this. Something about 19th century walls... it didn't matter. This was the 21st century, and AJ was smarter than a couple of lousy bricks barring her path to Matt.

"The pattern I've drawn is your way out."

Had the killer been imprisoned before? In this very cell? What are the odds? It didn't matter. AJ sat in the corner, studying the bricks, memorizing them until dinnertime.

"Dinner."

The guard slid a tray of barely edible, lukewarm food into the cell.

AJ made her decision. It was as though her time in prison had fogged her mind, obscuring her will to live, and the letter had broken through, filling her with renewed determination, a new mission. She stuffed the letter under her pillow, and ate everything.

If she was going to break through these walls and escape, she needed her strength.



Six days later, AJ resembled something close to her former self. A little color had returned to her cheeks, she was no longer as weak. She was still scrawny and, she suspected, horrendously underweight, but she couldn't wait forever. She had four days to reach Matt. It was time to bust out.

She'd memorized the letter and the maps, the codes and messages in the letter. It was bigger, more elaborate, more dangerous, potentially life-threatening, even fatal... but it was still just a puzzle.

Once the guards had locked down the prison for the night, she began to dig. Her fingers grew numb and began to bleed from the effort of tearing into the cement, but the Puzzle Killer knew his stuff. After nearly an hour, a section of the wall crumbled, leaving behind a hole just large enough for a bag of bones like herself to crawl through.

She tore up a pillowcase, wrapped up her hands, and didn't look back. The next stop: the roof.

There was a note from another escapee pinned to the wall, who had enclosed schematics for the construction of a small platform using fallen bricks. Heaving her weight behind the bricks, AJ lifted them up into a rudimentary ledge. Replacing the schematics and leaving them behind, she hopped up and grabbed onto the ladder leading to the roof as her ledge crumbled beneath her. Oh well. It had served its purpose.

Once on the roof, it was a little ways away to the air shaft. Feeling like the starring role of a prison break flick, she pried the hatch open and read the plans left for the repairman.

Oh dear. The place hadn't been serviced since... what was the date?... two Octobers ago? She could no longer be sure.

Referring to the map the Puzzle Killer had left with her, she crawled carefully through the shaft, taking extra care over the rusted patches. This prison was really something to be ashamed of, she thought. Working quickly, she shorted out the circuits on the fans barring her path, and moved on.

"Be ready. At the end, you're in for a ride all the way down to the first floor."

"I'm ready," she whispered, as though in response to the letter's writer. She pushed herself into the air shaft, and slid down the sickening three or four flights to the bottom.

She landed in a heap in the laundry room. Surveillance cameras were everywhere. She needed to get to a truck. Manipulating the moving racks, she jumped inside when it was close, timing her jump with the nearest truck headed out of the prison.

Jump... jump NOW!

She made a heroic leap into the back of the truck, and pulled herself up to the roof. She clung there for several hours, until she saw a light post.

"The minute you see the first light post, jump off the truck."

And jump she did. There was a note tacked to the post.

"You have escaped."



Author's notes about this chapter: Yeah, the prison break kind of sucked. If you're good about stockpiling your hints, you can get through this entire thing without actually solving any puzzles. You can just use up four hints for each one and the game lets you bypass them.

I really hate this game, but at the same time...

Chapter Ten

3055 - Ólafur Arnalds

Hhhrmm... urh... huh?...

AJ came to. As the world around her came into focus, she realized that she was tied to a chair. "What—?"

Her hair had been brushed and pulled back, out of her face. Her hands were properly bandaged, and no longer hurt. She smelled a familiar perfume, of stars and the night sky. On her feet were a pair of polished black shoes with a low heel. All things that she preferred over the studio's gargantuan stock closet of things for contestants to wear.

But she hadn't put them on.

There were straps around her wrists and ankles, anchoring her to the chair. As she wriggled around, AJ felt another around the base of her ribcage; she could hardly move. She kept struggling against the bonds and noticed something else. There were wires running up and down her spine, attached to her temples and the base of her neck. Her heart dropped unpleasantly into her stomach. The electric chair? Was she dreaming? What happened?

A bright light came into focus. Matt Booker was holding a piece of paper that was rapidly being consumed by the flame of a lighter. He was there, standing before her, smiling reassuringly. He was wearing a familiar-looking suit. Was it Darnby's? No, Darnby was too small. Nothing of his would fit Matt. It looked like... no. His graduation suit. The flame went out, the paper reduced to ashes.

What was going on?

"You're awake."

Matt dropped the burnt paper and approached her, gently brushing back her hair. AJ recoiled, but could not go far. Matt chuckled.

"You look beautiful."

"Matt, what are you doing?" she asked hoarsely, trying to put everything together. The signs had all been there. The reassuring, now unnervingly calm smile remained on Matt's face.

"You know, I told you to burn that letter. Don't worry, I did it for you."

"You... you what?" AJ was struggling to even stay conscious. She'd been blind. Oblivious. And he'd been right in front of her. Shaking her head vigorously, she hung on to every word Matt said. "You burned— but..."

"You like my Roger Maris swing? Or maybe it was Ricky Mantle, I'm not sure."

Matt stepped back into the solitary light on the stage as AJ realized where they were. She was tied to the contestant's seat on the stage of Puzzle Masters. Matt had somehow gotten in.

Matt Booker, the Puzzle Killer, and her. There were three roles to fill, and two people on stage.

"It's me— it's Matt! I'm ok, get out of here!" Matt laughed. "You fell for it, didn't you."

"Matt, why did you burn that letter?" AJ asked, fearing the response. "I'm innocent!"

"I know. Because I'm not a fed," Matt said, still smiling. "I'm the killer."

AJ focused intently on Matt's face. The killer... Matt? How did that make sense? Did it? Did it have to? The signs, they'd all pointed his way. The letters, the puzzles, the empty crime scenes, the newspaper...

"You said he was obsessed with me," she said slowly.

"I told you he was close."

"Matt... what happened to you?" she asked shakily.

"Look, it hasn't been easy since you and I... had our differences," Matt said, suddenly sounding ashamed, as though he thought she were judging his every word. "I kinda... fell apart. Spent some time in a soft, white hospital."

Obsession. The mental health history. 1958, the year she'd graduated, broken up with him, and left for grad school, the year they fell out of touch. The year Matt had a psychotic break because of all those things. The history was his. She was sane. She was ok. He was deranged, and he was going to kill her.

"Matt, I..." She was at a loss for words. What could she say that would comfort him now?

He was trying hopelessly to tie his tie. "God... dammit! How is it that I can bring you here, and I can't even do— this useless—"

"Matt, let me," AJ said softly. He'd never been good with tying ties. "Untie my hands and—"

"NO!" Matt thundered, rounding on her. She shrank back in her chair. "No," Matt repeated, his voice softening. "If I let you go, then you'll run away, and I'll never see you again."

"Matt, that's not true," she said soothingly. "I'm here now, aren't I? I came here because I thought you were in trouble. I came here because I care about you."

"Not like you used to," Matt said dismally, sitting down behind Darnby's desk.

"Matt..."

"You've gotta understand. I had to find a way of bringing us back together. We're so alike!" Matt insisted, bringing up an electrical setup of his own. He attached the wires to his own head, his un-tie getting hopelessly tangled up in the wires. "Even if you won't see it."

"Matt—"

"And now you know what it's like to be locked up like I was," Matt went on, speaking over her. "The only difference is... you don't know what it's like to be a killer. And I don't want that distance between us."

"Matt, please, talk to me!"

"So you'll play a new round," Matt continued doggedly. "If you win, you kill me, and we're alike. If you lose, you're unworthy, and you die."

AJ felt the blood drain from her face. It was a magnificent setup. Everything she had told him, what she feared and how she won. Patience, persistence, and trial and error would not help her here. Moreover, they would get her killed. At the same time... she couldn't kill him.

"These wires stuck to us will do the trick. Let's start."

AJ flinched, the straps keeping her in the chair becoming uncomfortably restrictive as the show's soundtrack began to play, echoing grimly around the empty studio. Matt faced away from her, greeting an audience that wasn't there.

"Two contestants alternate each week on a round-by-round basis. They try to beat the target score each week by— oh, forget it, you already know the rules."

Matt turned to her. "But today, each time you're wrong, you get a shock. Each time you're right, I get it."

AJ shook her head violently. "No. NO! Matt, I won't do this!"

"Then you'll die!" Matt yelled at her. "And I don't want you to die!"

AJ struggled valiantly against the bonds, shaking loose some of the electrical wires. They clattered to the floor as she continued to pull at her bindings. "Matt, I WON'T!"

"STOP IT!" Matt had leapt back to his feet. He tore off his own electrical setup and reached over to her. She hung her head down as Matt strengthened the bonds around her.

"Matt, don't do this," she begged, her voice wispy and quiet.

He forcefully jerked her chin up, the better to replace the wires that had come off. Tears ran down her face; his grip lessened.

"You... you never cry. Not since we were kids."

"Not that you've seen," AJ said, her eyes locked with his. "You think it wasn't hard on me too?"

"Aoife." Matt bent down and hesitantly kissed her forehead. She trembled, uncertain of what would happen now.

"Please don't do this," she whispered.

Matt stuck the wires back on her head. "You know, I tried to kill myself when you left me. Now... now you'll do it for me."

He backed away, gazing intently at her. "I was right. That perfume does smell good on you."

She saved her strength. She suddenly felt that she would need it to get through this night.

Suddenly, pain shot through her. She inhaled sharply, as Matt grinned at her. He was back behind Darnby's desk, all reattached and a switch in hand.

"You see? It won't be terrible at first, but in the end, if you fail, you die. You win... I die." Matt smiled at her, unsettling as always. "Welcome to MY show: The Incredible Puzzle Masters!"

AJ steeled herself as Matt pushed a complicated labyrinth towards her. It would be a long night, but her mind was made up.

She stared for several long moments at the puzzle Matt presented her with. Finally, twitching her wrist to move the pen in her hand, she marked the whole thing with a giant X.

Matt was silent for a solid minute, staring blankly at the puzzle he had no doubt worked so hard to create just for her.

"Unfortunately, she's made a mistake," Matt said, his empty expression immediately changing to a scowl. "That'll be a shock for you, then."

AJ screamed. The pain was worse, a white hot stream of liquid fire running through her veins.

"You failed this time, but I'm not through with you just yet."

"I. Won't. Do. This," AJ repeated through gritted teeth.

"Try it again," Matt commanded.

"No."

"DO IT!" Matt's hand hovered over the switch. "Or you die."

Mutely, she kicked the puzzle away with what room the straps around her ankles gave her. She stared Matt down, daring him to do something about it.

He let out a scream of rage, sending another intense shock through AJ's body. "Don't MAKE me kill you!" he roared. "I don't want to kill you!"

The pain stopped, her screams ended. Every nerve in her body was on fire. "Well, you're gonna have to," AJ said defiantly, breathless and recovering from the shock. If he kept coming at her like this with no gaps in between... she wasn't strong enough. She couldn't handle it.

"I don't want you to die, Aoife," Matt said. "I don't. But if you won't play with me, then neither of us are walking out of here alive."

"That's your solution? To kill the both of us?" AJ demanded. "What happened to you that made you this way, Matt?"

"YOU HAPPENED!"

He twisted the switch and pressed it again. It was nearly unbearable, the current ravaging her body. Mixed with her screams, she heard Matt's voice. He was also in pain.

"STOP!" she cried. "Please!"

"Not until one of us dies!" Matt glared at her, a strange mixture of love and hatred boiling behind his eyes. "You have to kill me."

"And what am I supposed to do once you've died?" AJ demanded, tears springing back into her eyes. "Weep over the corpse of the man I came here to save? Could you really put me through that?"

"I DON'T CARE what you do!" Matt hollered. "I just— we need to be— us! You need to kill me!"

"I won't sit here and watch you die!"

He shocked them both again. The voltage was reaching dangerous levels, she felt certain. If it kept going like this...

"You can end this, right now," Matt panted, the electricity taking its toll on him as well. "You can end it, and kill me. You know what you have to do."

"I won't play this game with you," she spat angrily. "When you die, I won't be the one to do it!"

"Then come with me!" Matt's eyes blazed with a new idea, a new game. A new punishment. "We can kill each other, and die together, like we always should have been."

AJ could make no response. Matt had always been in control, and now he knew where he was headed.

"This is it! There's no longer any distance between us!" Matt's voice broke with anticipation. "I press this button and you become exactly the same as me! A killer!"

"Matt, NO!" AJ begged. "Please, stop!"

Her eyes clouded with tears. She'd loved this man, this insane, passionate man, once upon a time, and for that mistake, he was going to kill her. He was going to kill them both, and she was powerless to stop him.

Matt looked at her, overjoyed. "We're so alike. We always were. And now, we'll be together forever."

"MATT, STOP!"

Over AJ's shouts, Matt clenched his fist and jammed the switch.



Author's notes about this chapter: This is, BY FAR, my favorite chapter. And yet, in the game, this is one of the most laughable scenes. If ever you do get an answer wrong, Matt just punches a button and presents you with more puzzles. It was so lame that I wanted to cry.

Also, remember how I said the game plays slightly differently for both genders? At its core, this scene is Matt insisting that he and the player are exactly alike and that there's too much "distance" between them because the player is not a serial killer. NONE OF THAT changes for the male playthrough. Nothing. It's incredibly creepy, but it doesn't quite fit, I don't think. I actually think that what little story this game does carry fits better with a female protagonist, if only for this scene to be more powerful.

Epilogue

I Offer Prosperity and Eternal Life - Valgeir Sigurdsson

Marcus smiled, shaking his head. Some reporter had dashed that out at the last minute, no doubt after staying up late to watch it live like everyone else.

"Marcus! Wait!" Someone sprinted across the loading dock with her handbag, panting. "Wait!"

Marcus turned around. He recognized the woman running at him, and smiled, waving the paper. "I heard you won."

"Of course I did."

"Congratulations."

AJ brushed the wrinkles out of her day dress. "So, Marcus. If it's all the same to you, I'd love to have a drink with you. I feel like I owe you some answers."

Marcus nodded mutely as they walked together onto the ship.

"How did you get on the same trip as me?" Marcus asked. "I figured you'd have all kinds of business to take care of first."

"Well. I've been in prison," AJ said conversationally. "I lost my job, my apartment, and everything I own. It's not as though I have anything to go back to."

"What will you do now?"

"One thing at a time, Marcus."

They sat down at a table as attendants took their bags to their rooms. "Then... how did all this start?"

AJ rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "I first met Matt Booker when I was six years old. We grew up together, and when we went to university..."



"...and then Captain Dawson cut the power, arrested the both of us, and the rest is history."

As AJ concluded her story, Marcus laughed, taking another sip of wine. "And I thought I had my share of crazy ex-girlfriend stories."

AJ smiled, nodding. "It's... been an adventure."

"But at least he's locked up now, right?" Marcus asked, still looking happy. "They're not going to let him out. Not after what he did to you. Are they?"

AJ's face fell. "They didn't have to let him."

Marcus's jaw could have hit the floor. "What are you... what."

AJ pulled a brick out of her luggage. It was marked with two vertical lines.

"Trudy gave me a box before I left the studio to come here," she said. "This was inside."

Marcus stared at it. "This... this is a brick."

AJ nodded gravely before realizing that this meant absolutely nothing to Marcus. "You have to understand. I broke out of prison."

"So I heard."

"I didn't do it alone. I had help. This help."

Unfurling something stuffed unceremoniously inside the brick, AJ spread out the coded letter Matt had sent to her in prison. Now scrawled across the top were a few words, written in brownish marks she could only assume was blood:

"WE ARE THE SAME."

She shook the coded paper. "This is a code, showing you which bricks are weakest in the prison."

Marcus went pale. "You don't think...?"

"They probably didn't even bother to fix the walls," AJ said.

"What if he's coming for you?" Marcus said worriedly. "AJ, you have to stay here, with police and—"

AJ shook her head. "No. Matt... he's different than that," she said pensively. "I don't think he'll come straight at me now."

"So he'll just murder a bunch of other people first instead," Marcus said conversationally. "And you're gonna let him?"

"That's not what I said." AJ replaced the brick and the letter in her bag. "I won."

"So did I."

"No. Well, yes, but not the same way I did. I don't care about the show, and neither did Matt."

"Clearly," Marcus said bitterly.

"I beat him at every turn, I was one step ahead of him until he put me away. And when we played his twisted little game, I proved that I was better."

She thought back, almost ashamedly, to the fan letters she had received, handwritten in what she now knew to be Matt's script. "He's not worthy of me anymore."

"What do you mean, not worthy of you? Do you want him back?" Marcus demanded.

"No! No. Especially not now," she said. "We broke up once and I thought that was enough. But... well... he killed and vandalized and puzzled his way through these murders in a ferociously misguided attempt to impress me and win me back."

AJ looked up at Marcus, meeting his eyes for what felt like the first time all night. "I'm not impressed. I haven't fallen back in love. I'm terrified of him and of what he's done, what he's become. But until he feels like he's a worthy opponent for me, he won't come back."

Marcus let his face fall into his hands. "So he's just going to come back better and smarter and worse for everyone."

"The police will get to him before that," AJ said softly. "But for now, I don't think we have anything to worry about."

"For now."

She nodded. "For now."

She and Marcus fell silent.

"So, happy trip-round-the-world," AJ said, breaking the ice. Marcus laughed.

"Right. We're going all over the place. He won't find you again."

AJ shrugged. "Not unless he's got a boat, too."

Marcus nodded, all smiles once again. "AJ, I'm really glad you won."

She blushed. "You know you can still call me Aoife."

"Well, in that case." Marcus dug in his coat pocket, producing the little box with its sorry, now drooping bow. "How about it?"

AJ laughed. "Fine, then."

Marcus slid the box over to her. Upon closer inspection, AJ saw that the knot was incredibly unfamiliar.

"What... how did you even...?"

"It's a puzzle my uncle gave me when I was six," Marcus said.

"You've had this unsolved since you were six?" AJ asked incredulously.

"Wha— no! I solved it!" Marcus protested. "I've redone it, is all. I can't quite get the shape of the bow right, but the knot's there."

AJ pored over the knot. "Seriously, how did you even... slider puzzles and knots are two of my greatest weaknesses."

Marcus laughed. "I know."

"You knew, and you were going to give me this?"

"I wanted to see what you'd do!" Marcus said. "You know, to see if you solve the puzzles that challenge you like I do."

AJ shook her head, laughing. "You are an enigma, Marcus."

"No, not an enigma. Just bored." He scooted his chair closer to her. "Give it, lemme see if I remember how to undo it."

"Have you forgotten?!"

"Sh-Shut up."



Final notes: Prefacing this with the face that nothing in this chapter is canon except for getting the brick sent from prison.

But yes, please let me talk about why Matt Booker has captivated me and given me more feels than the entire rest of the everything about this game. I believe everything Matt did, he did out of passion. Of some sort. Yes, it was bad and misguided as hell and GOD does that dude have problems, but in a way, it's staggering to think that you could go to all that length and trouble to get someone to notice you, to impress them, to express how you feel about them.

And then of course, he sends creepy letters about wanting to smell your blood. He's definitely crossed some lines here, but I do think there's a really, really interesting note of tragic romance between Matt and a female protagonist. And I am a sucker for such lovely, heartbreaking things.

Which is not to say that a male protagonist couldn't have had a romantic relationship with Matt. Given Matt's dialogue about being college roomies, drinking copious amounts of rum, and doing chicks on the beach, though, his villainous breakdown in the later chapters doesn't make as much sense as it does after hearing about places with memories and splitting up. What differences did a male protagonist have with him? Disagreeing about where to put the laundry hamper?

I also really loved the idea of Marcus and the protagonist heading off on an adventure together. The game does provide a nice little sequel setup (although it doesn't show sending you off on the trip), but if the story requires this much headcanon to stomach (at least for me), I don't know if I'd trust it to be any good.

Anyhow, hope you enjoyed. I adore feedback.