Scene 1Edit

Negative shivered in the cold of the night, a great dislike for both the cold and the dark welling up inside of him. It was a good thing he was opening up his new night time resort, or else he didn’t think he could handle the night for much longer. 

“Hey, you! Signature Ninja! Stop lurking back there and come get the fire popsicles ready to hand out!”

The Signature Ninja said nothing and failed to react (which was usual) except for doing as Negative had asked (ordered). They would be ready to open within thirty minutes. Negative momentarily glanced up at the carvings that hah been put into his favourite flamethrower two days previous – 7 seven VII, and was reassured. With a lucky number like that, nobody could touch him.


The Shadowed One, whose identity has been erased from all records except for the brain of iBrow, sat at the end of an unnecessarily long table that was meant to induce fear of the inevitable in the minds of all innocent people to cross by it. The other four Dark Hunters sat sporadically down the table.

“So that is the plan, yes? We target good old Lucky Number 3.”

Ancient shifted in his seat uncomfortably and glanced at the Master of Hats, who cleared his throat nervously.

“Erm, almighty powerful but not as powerful as iBrow Mr. Shadowed One… 3 isn’t the lucky number, it’s 7.”

“Hmm. Well, what in the blazes does it matter? We still agreed on 3, right?”

“No, actually. We agreed on Number 7.”

“But that isn’t lucky at all!”

“I believe that was the irony you had in mind when you suggested it, sir.”

“Very well, Hat Master! Begone with you, kill whoever it is! Now if you’ll all excuse me, I have a sword to polish.”

The Shadowed One stood up and then vanished from sight, while the Master of Hats sighed and exited the room, hoping that the victim-to-be had some sort of weapon he could use.


At the conveniently numbered House #9 on Ninth Street, Portalfig rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he rolled out of bed and to the front door, which he proceeded to open, revealing a rather large box. The former all-powerful Matoran stared at it for several seconds before it clicked into his mind why he found it suspicious.

“Nope, not doing it! I know what happens here, you know! I open this box and something jumps out and kills me!”

So Portalfig slammed the door shut – unfortunately for poor Portalfig, one does not simply not die when they are supposed to. Thanks to a conveniently located plot device (otherwise known as the Signature Ninja), the shockwaves emanating from the closing of the door caused the box to tip over and open, causing a great ball of fire to leap out and completely encase Portalfig’s home.


And that was all Portalfig could yell as he ran out of his home with his one remaining possession: a small note on it with a number 9, and some words along the lines of “muahaha you handed all the power to me”.

Elsewhere Again because man these transitions are like so lame

BZP Blade, the Dude with a Hat, the Medic (who thanks to a surgical mask at this time could not be identified), the creamy-like-a-milkshake wizard JIF and the also unidentified Detective were all waiting in line at Negative’s newly opened night time resort when Portalfig ran over and jumped ahead in the line, immediately swallowing the popsicle that Blade had been about to it.

Negative had a good chuckle about that – after all, it wasn’t every day you tricked someone into eating a popsicle made out of fire, and it also wasn’t every day someone voluntarily inhaled said popsicle.

Portalfig, on account of his insides now being on fire, was beginning to grow rather desperate, and so he burst into the swimming area and did a cannon ball into the pool. Unfortunately for the Matoran, said pool was full of lava, and he died.

“Well, that’s going to be bad for business.” Negative said. “I hope one of you is going to pay for the damage he’s done to my beautifully flaming home.”

Finding the absolute silence he got for a response highly suspicious, Negative turned around to face his customers and found himself staring into his own flamethrower.

“Tell me, Pyro… are you immune to your own medicine?” asked the wielder of the flamethrower.

“Well, I don’t really do medicine, if you know what I mean.”

“Shut up. Say, would you like a hat? I like hats. I have a hat! Do you have a hat?”

“No, no I do not. I’m a Toa of Fire, you see. I don’t really need a-”

“Take a hat.”

Negative barely managed to catch the sombrero thrown at him, and as he placed it on his head the Dark Hunter pulled the trigger, and seconds later the Pyro was nothing more than ashes.

“So much for that Lucky Number 7 of yours up there.” said the Master of Hats. “Clearly your number should have been the same as that official list thingy down at Town Hall. Oh well, sucks to be you!”

The Detective, hiding in the bushes nearby, almost cried with relief when the Master of Hats had vanished. That dude was one crazy sucker – however, from his words the Detective had matched up five possible suspects (although he wasn’t sure he wanted to lynch the guy yet, considering he’d eliminated the danger of the Pyro).

Villager (Portalfig, Assigned #9) killed by Pyro.

Pyro (Negative, Assigned #7) killed by Dark Hunter.


2 - 95% chance that the suspect likes sombreros

11 - Possible secondary target of the Pyro

14 - No alibi for the night of the murders

16 - A new face around town

Lynching 1Edit

JIF, as the local wizard of milkshakes and chocolate milk, had recently been employed at the White Wolf Pub to serve delicious eggnog. It was there that the Town had decided to gather, and the different suspects were dragged forward - or at least, they would have been if anybody actually knew who they were. For several hours it appeared as if the poor fool of a red herring that was the Matoran designated #2 was going to be viciously slaughtered for daring to like sombreros after the death of the Pyro - however, JIF could not help but feel the fear build inside of him as his own number, #14 (conveniently double that of #7) was pulled in as the second most likely suspect. Now, obviously he didn't have an alibi - he'd been standing right there when the Master of Hats pulled the trigger, after all.

He watched as Squishy and Lhikevikk voted against the crowd, and briefly wondered if they might be correct - but of course that was nonsense, as there had only been one guilty party. Lhikevikk was just a big goof. Who voted for the other guy the Pyro was targetting for death, after all? But then, in a move that transcended all reasoning, he watched Squishy transfer his vote over to #14. The votes were tied. JIF could feel the presence of iBrow all around him, cackle with a malicious glee as he watched the proceedings - however, only moments after iBrow left to take care of more immediate business, Canis Lupis switched his vote from #2 to #16 - proclaiming that the two dead parties of the previous night (Negative, #7, and Portalfig, #9)'s numbers both added to #16.

This was a coincidence that nobody could deny - and indeed, looking back, several Villagers would wonder if the might Hapori Tohu himself hadn't alligned the stars for them, only to be ignored by a poor Matoran's love for sombreros. Then again, it was now JIF on the chopping block, so it looked like the sombreros were safe indeed. As iBrow returned and took in everything that had occured, JIF felt a tap on his shoulder and saw the Master of Hats.

"Would you mind if I had an eggnog? I can give you this baseball cap if you like."

"Do you have a wizard hat? I've actually lost mine."

The Master of Hats shrugged and pulled out a wizard hat, and he traded it to JIF for a delicious glass of creamy eggnog. JIF realized a moment too late that Negative too had been given a hat right before he died - unfortunately, it was then that the hot coals in his hat (placed there by none other than iBrow's favourite plot device, the Signature Ninja) and JIF was instantaneously burnt to a pile of ashes.

Of course, the Master of Hats didn't get away scot free either: burned into his arm by the fire were the words: "Watch your backs. Better luck next time".

It was unknown who exactly the words were intended for, but as the rather shocking death of JIF had proved, they had just killed #14, a Matoran just like the rest. The poor fellow. He made good chocolate milk, too.

Villager Lynched.

Scene 2Edit

The entire group of Dark Hunters were seated around the obnoxiously large table when the Detective flitted in, failing to be noticed by any of them. The Detective couldn’t help but sweat as his stomach fluttered with fear, but he nonetheless managed to snatch the ID of the Master of Hats with ease, glance at it, and nod his head in affirmation before placing the ID back with its owner.

As the Dark Hunters continued to not notice him, the Detective flew out of the room, speeding away towards him home to mark the number down that he had seen. Of course, little did the Detective know that he had gained the Great and Powerful iBrow’s blessing, due to an amusedly stupid mistake he had made earlier that day – a futile attempt to investigate himself that had failed miserably.

Back at the Dark Hunter base, the debate as to whom they should murder that night was raging – as were several tempers. The Shadowed One had still not forgiven the Master of Hats for openly executing JIF that morning, nor had he forgiven the Master of Hats for killing the Pyro Negative, in whom he had found a highly useful and expendable ally.

Or rather, his servant the Master of the Wind had on his orders – but as the Master of the Wind both lacked any personality after losing his right to the Master of Spirits title, and also lacked any brains, the Shadowed One liked to claim the would-be achievement as his own.

“I think that we should kill #19.” said the Master of X. “#19 is very suspicious.”

“Do you mean on the official list?” asked Ancient.

“Well, no.”

“Then it is a terrible idea. I think we should kill #2 – everybody knows he’s Squishy, and the Master of Hats has made himself rather expendable.”

“Hey!” the Master of Hats protested.

“I agree with Ancient.” the Shadowed One said. “Master of the Wind, you shall kill #2. Master of Hats, go with him, because honestly, you are a fool.”

Unfortunately for them, Squishy, just the same as Portalfig the night before, had realized what was surely coming his way and had gathered the rest of the Village to smite the Dark Hunters where they stood.

Unfortunately for Squishy, no matter what, the plot devices of the Great and Powerful iBrow always prevail. So it was that the Villagers set the Dark Hunters’ base of operations on fire and burned it to the ground, but Squishy was unfortunately trampled to death in the process. At least he got a fancy top hat out of the deal when the Master of Hats found him lying deceased on the ground. Unfortunately for the Master of Hats, what little number of possessions he had were burnt to ashes in the fire.

Unfortunately for the Town there were so many suspects that the Detective took six hours to compile enough data to create a list of suspects – and even more unfortunately, the suspect list this time had ten members included. Poor, poor people.

Fortunately, the Detective had shared the information regarding who the Master of Hats was with the Turaga, meaning that the two of them needed only to subtly vote and the first Dark Hunter would be relieved of his atrocious duties. Unfortunately, the Turaga promptly forgot this information, as a cooking pot had fallen on his head.

Villager – Squishy, Assigned #2 – Killed by Dark Hunters.

The Suspects:

4 - Number of total victims thus far

5 - Seen yelling with fury: something about "fire" and "building" and "luck"

8 - Fond of assorted dishes; found with a ladle in his hands

11 - Target of Pyro; injured in recent fire

13 - A very unlucky number (for the town?)

16 - Found at both crime scenes with a guilty look

17 - Not who everyone thinks he is

18 - Targeted for unknown reasons

Lynching 2Edit

The Master of Hats, forgetting how much luck every other dead person in the Village had previously had when it came to die, decided to try and escape the claws of the grave. Thus it was that the entire Village found him to be missing when it came time to kill him - and they all discovered that the Master of Hats was indeed not just the Dude w/ a Hat, but also designated #16 - coincidentally the only player in the game to have the same official and secret number.

That night, the remaining Dark Hunters skipped over their duties to murder a Matoran, instead meeting within the abandoned Tower Valendale and debating the many ways they would kill the Master of Hats for his treachery.

"We could slice and dice him." suggested Ancient.

"Perhaps we can set him on fire." said the Master of Wind.

"Maybe we can drain him of his blood?" asked the Master of Blood.

"We don't have blood, you fool, we have... well, it isn't blood." said the Master of Wind.

"Hey! I'm not a fool, mister lacking of the brains-"

"ALL OF YOU SHUT UP!" yelled the Shadowed One. "I just had a brilliant idea!"

The Dark Hunters promptly fell silent, looking expectantly at the Shadowed One. They remained like this for fifteen minutes, until the Master of Blood decided enough was enough.

"What is it?"

"Finally! I thought you'd never ask. You see, I just remembered I have this potion...."

The Shadowed One pulled a small glass phial out of his pocket. The pink liquid inside was hissing.

"First, I'll turn him into a flea. Then, I'll put that flea in a box. Then, I'll put that box in another box. Then I'll mail that box to myself, and then I'LL SMASH IT WITH A HAMMER!"

At these last words the Shadowed One procured a hammer out of nowhere and smashed the table they were sitting at into nothing more than chunks of wood as he cackled madly. Then he got up and left the room, leaving the stunned Dark Hunters to sit there - and there they were still when he returned with the squashed boxes containing the Dude w/ a Hat five hours later.

He set the boxes down and they instantenously burst into flame, as the ghost of Negative had a good laugh somewhere.

Dark Hunter (Dude w/ a Hat, assigned #16) lynched.

Scene 3Edit

The X-Master 9000, Master of Blood, cackled as he knocked on the conveniently numbered House #20 on Ninth Street, and the soul experimenter Progenitus Worldsoul (who was currently receiving quite a bad rap for combining the souls of Portalfig and Negative at their request, so that they might curse the Dark Hunters with fire) answered the door.

Of course, Mr. Worldsoul knew exactly what would transpire, and he knew that there was no way he could stop it – for the Detective had stopped by earlier with the Medic, and while the Detective had been pleased to note that he was just a Matoran (which, really, what else could he be?), the Medic had acted like a snob, rubbing it in Mr. Worldsoul’s face that he would protect his own back that night.

Despite the fact that the Dark Hunters didn’t even know that the Medic even existed. Much as they failed to notice the Detective fluttering around, they failed to notice the Medic bouncing around.

Say what you will about those Dark Hunters, but they have terrible, terrible eyesight.

Anyway, Mr. Worldsoul was contemplating how to make himself go out with a bang when the X-Master, Master of Blood, pulled off his hood – and when the identity of the Dark Hunter sent to kill him was revealed, Worldsoul screamed and ran into his house. The Master of Blood slowly stepped inside, grinning wickedly as he saw the wide range of possible tools for the most brutal killing in the history of ever.

Worldsoul screamed again, but the Master of Blood said nothing as he-


[THE FOLLOWING SECTION HAS BEEN {DELETED}/NO OR {REMOVED}/YES FOR BEING inexplicably brutal, bloody and violent beyond all reason]




The Great and Powerful iBrow sobbed as the lost piece of work drifted out of everyone’s mind and was replaced with a computer message that didn’t even faithfully recreate a computer. However, what was done was done, and so he continued to persevere.

The Master of Blood was rather frustrated as well as he left the bloody remains of #20, Ninth Street behind him – for there was nothing better for a memory than a gruesome killing, for once done by him, and now it was gone.

Clearly he needed to be a Dark Hunter more often.

Of course, the actions of the night only made the combined Negative/Portalfig apparition even angrier, and as a return blow they spelled the perpetrator’s name right out for the Village :







That said, who knew what his number was, because they certainly didn’t. But perhaps it was related to the now deceased Master of Hats.

Villager (Progenitus Worldsoul, Assigned #20) killed by Dark Hunters.

The Suspects:

1 - This jokester shouldn't even be on this list - he's like the Joker without all the "evil" stuff. Maybe he just wants to die and prove everybody a fool?

5 - Always complaining about the lack of capitalization - perhaps Negative mocked him with the identity reveal?

10 - An impatient individual who lost his chance in the spotlight earlier

17 - One thing is for certain: the forgotten bloodbath was definitely rated Mature for 17+ only.

Lynching 3Edit

Canis Lupis, having complained about the lack of Village-done lynchings, had been granted his one true wish. Due to some circumstantial evidence released by a presumably amnesiac iBrow, the Village had unanimously decided to kill Xaeraz, assigned #17.

Of course, halfway through Xaeraz very nearly killed off whoever was the poor soul designated #1 in a desperate attempt to save his life - which actually wasn't desperate at all, because, as he had already warned the Villagers and hinted towards many times - Xaeraz was very cunning. So cunning, in fact, that even the Dark Hunters would be surprised by the events about to occur.

thoron, assigned #5, was still getting over the lack of capitalization in his name as he watched Canis Lupis and Zakaro prepare the rope that would hang Xaeraz, following tips and pointers from the Spirimaster Veigar, now known around town as a Wind Elemental. thoron looked up, met Xaeraz's gaze, and sighed in defeat. The next second, thoron was on the ground with a bullet through his mask, and was feeling rather dead.

Matoran executed by Dark Hunter.

Of course, the Master of Blood was not yet done. Randy Disher, assigned #8, threw his kitchen sink at the Dark Hunter - Xaeraz ducked underneath it (allowing the sink to smack Lloyd in the head and Lhikevikk in the elbow) and then fired his gun again. Randy Disher collapsed, his heartlight replaced by a bullet hole.

Matoran executed by Dark Hunter.

Thinking the situation rather obnoxious, Canis Lupis and Tyler Durden, assigned #18, wrestled the silent Xaeraz backwards, before wrenching the noose around his neck and pulling on the rope. Xaeraz pointed his gun at them and fired three more bullets - Canis Lupis almost let go of the rope as the weight he was pulling up increased twofold, for Tyler Durden was now resting without peace thanks to three bullets.

Matoran executed by Dark Hunter.

Xaeraz pulled a knife out and cut the rope, dropping to the ground with a rather dignified crunch as he landed on top of Blade before backing away. Canis Lupis, seeing that Xaeraz was about to run, ordered a chase - but was stopped when Xaeraz wagged his finger slowly, opening his cloak to reveal a lit stick of dynamite hidden inside. Canis Lupis cursed as yet another opportunity for the Matoran to actually lynch someone was foiled, and Xaeraz's last joke was to blow up not only himself, but also Tower Valendale, once again leaving the Dark Hunters without a base.

Dark Hunter executed.

Scene 4Edit

Canis Lupis grumbled to himself as he sipped some eggnog in his home on Seventh Avenue (he was the only one in the Town not living on Ninth Street, strangely). He was examining the unfortunately irreversible damage his legendary (and trademarked!) plot armor had taken at the hands of Xaeraz that morning.

A hooded Matoran with a #1 stood behind him, contemplating the likelihood that one of the two of them would die.

“I think they’ll kill me.” Said #1.

“No, it’ll definitely be me.” Said Canis. “Everybody has to know that I’m #10 at this point, and I had plot armour.”

“Right you are, and that is why you are now dead.” Said the Master of Wind Elements.

“Wind Elemental?” Canis Lupis asked, feigning surprise. “Well, snap. I’m guessing the Medic is nowhere to be seen.”

Right he was, and that was why the entire Town was now gathered at the White Wolf Pub examining his body and wondering which number had done the deed.

They were also wondering why they were meeting in the new base of operations for the Dark Hunters. Then again, Wind Elemental had suggested it, so maybe there was some sort of correlation.

Villager (Canis Lupis, Assigned #10) killed by Dark Hunters.

The Suspects:

6 - This pretty tolerable guy can be pretty intolerable.

12 - This crazy guy will vote for guilty people one second and then turn on the Village the next. Who knows if he's even sane?

13 - Once a partner in crime with some other guy who was already lynched, the poor soul.

15 - This guy has been darting around rather suspiciously. I mean, honestly, everybody has, but I gotta give you poor creatures something....

Lynching 4Edit

The Great and Powerful iBrow was furious. His father, the Overlord Supreme the First, had annihilated their internet connection by foolishly unplugging everything in the house two days previous.

Luckily, the Great and Powerful iBrow was free as rain right now, and he was really in the mood for smiting somebody. So he figured, why not, he'd smite that poor innocent fool he assigned #12 in the Village yonder.

Unfortunately for the Matoran of the Village, Lhikevikk was walking along with an umbrella (because an execution being two days late was ALWAYS a sign you were about to be smited). Now, this umbrella WOULD HAVE protected him from iBrow's lightning bolt, had The Shadowed One not decided to burn the umbrella up. Then Lhikevikk obviously died, and the Village decided to run away and hide, because...

Village executed. ALL ROLES PM, MAN.

Now the Village was questioning why Lhikevikk had joined in on his own bandwagon of death. Then again, he'd always been a rather crazy fellow.

Scene 5Edit

The Detective and Doctor clasped hands – now that the Detective knew who he was clasping hands with, things would surely look up for the Village.

Actually, they were looking down, because the Doctor was so busy protecting somebody that he didn’t protect anybody.

So the two of them found Strackkorotus dead in Lloyd’s pub, and when Lloyd arrived an hour later, he just sighed and left. Clearly the Master of Wind had a problem with Lloyd, because seriously, who the heck does that to a business?

So much for the eggnog in that town.

Eggnog sales killed by Master of Wind.

Matoran killed by Master of Wind as well. That terrible person.

The suspects:

3 - The number of living people in this scene. Oh wait, you want real evidence? Well good grief, you should have said something.

4 - This guy killed for eggnog in the past.

6 - This guy once contaminated the chocolate milk in the city, replacing it with gasoline - no wonder he got kicked out into this horrible place.

13 - With all the lucky numbers killed off, perhaps this unlucky number has a specific meaning? Not to mention his dabbling in the arts of...

Lynching 5Edit

The Tolerable Automaton, assigned #6, decided that he hated Zakaro. Unfortunately, he couldn't really do anything about it, as he had been gorilla glued to the Eternally Burning Chattering Corpse Heap.

Too bad for that Matoran.

Luckily, somebody was good on the details, because the former Master of Spirits and the new Master of Wind, Mr. Veigar Wind Elemental, had been poisoned by a butterfly he attempted to ingest. The foolish Dark Hunter was now, well, dead, to say the least.

Scene 6Edit

“Who do you think we should kill?” asked Ancient as he and the Shadowed One strolled down Ninth Street, shotguns in hand.

“I think we should kill #15. He’s suspicious.”

“We don’t even know who he is!”

“Well, yeah, but he’s suspicious.”

“How is somebody suspicious if we don’t even know who they are?! Actually, on top of that, how do we kill them?!”

“Well, how have we killed anyone else?”

Ancient paused to think about it, and the Shadowed One walked several steps before realizing his final pawn wasn’t with him.

“I guess you have a point.” Ancient conceded, jogging to catch up with the Master of Blades. “So what now?”

“Well, I dunno. Now that I think about it, you do have a point.”


“We don’t know who #15 is. Maybe we should go for #3 instead.”


“Well, I dunno. Why not? What if #15 is the Detective?”

“I’ve been trying to tell you that for awhile. If #15 is the Detective, then the Medic is surely covering at him. If the two aren’t in contact by now, I feel like there’s no point in life at all.”

“Why do you think they’d be in contact?”

“Well, look at last game.”

Ancient pulled out his iBrow Touch and pulled up BIONICLE MAFIA II: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO.

“See? Lloyd was the Medic here, right? And our oh-so-wonderful iBrow was the Detective. So the two got into contact, and then they covered for each other the entire game. Which was actually mostly just Lloyd covering iBrow, because the Detective can’t do jack to protect people.”

“Can’t do jack?”

“It’s an expression.”

“Oh. Continue.”

“Anyway, that was from the very first round, right? So they trusted each other immediately. So this far into our game, if the Detective and Medic aren’t being completely honest with each other, well, good grief.”

Meanwhile, at the Detective’s House:

“So, Mr. Detective, now that you’ve discovered me and I’ve discovered you….” The Medic trailed off as he sipped his coffee. “You obviously know my number, then, but that doesn’t help me to protect you. Could you fill me in?”

“How do you know I’m even the Detective?”

“…are you the Detective?”


“Okay then. So, you know who I am then.”

“How do you know that I know who you are?”

“…did you investigate me and find out my identity?”


“Good grief man, slim it. I’m supposed to be the one with less brains here, not you. So, can I have your number, so that I can, you know, protect you from the Dark Hunters and all that jazz?”


The Medic sighed impatiently. “I asked you to give me your number so that I can protect you.”

“Well, that’s just pointless.”

The Detective snorted and rolled his eyes with disbelief. Who in their right mind would trust the Medic with their number?

Later, at the Secret Mafia Lair:

“So we’re going to kill #3?” Ancient asked.

“Nah, I decided to just kill #15. Make it simple.” The Shadowed One responded. “I’m sure iBrow will be fine.”

“What if #15 is the Detective?”

“Well, I’m sure we can fail to kill somebody once. Right?”

“Uh, no, but whatever.”

The two froze as the door slowly creaked open. The Shadowed One ducked out of sight and watched as the Detective and Medic entered the room – the Detective was muttering something about the Medic making sure to protect him.

The Detective had also forgotten to remove the large badge on his chest that said “HELLO MY NAME IS the giant space butterfly AND MY NUMBER IS 15”.

So the Shadowed One cackled, stepped into the light, and impaled the Detective on his staff. The Detective groaned and glanced at the Medic, who only stood there.

“Why don’t you help me?” the Detective pleaded.

“Well, you didn’t tell me your number, stupid.” The Medic explained. “So I picked some random guy, and since my medicine machine ain’t activating, I’m gonna go ahead and guess that I picked the wrong guy.”

“Well… snap. And I just realized who somebody important was, too.” The Detective sighed. “Well, if you all want me, I guess I’ll be at the Eternally Burning Chattering Corpse Heap for all of eternity.”

Detective Killed by the Shadowed One.

The Shadowed One sighed. “He wasn’t the Turaga! Again! Why the heck must this Turaga always be so not anywhere?!”

“I know, right?” the Medic asked. “He hasn’t even helped us. It’s almost like he’s missing in action or something.”

The Suspects of the Murder:

1 - Numero uno might be the only man standing if things continue how they are.

4 - He killed for eggnog, is emotionless, and dislikes apples. Also an astonishingly small target, considering that he seems to be a suspect at every single scene.

11 - An astonishingly large target - he and #4 up there (man, that #4 is one snazzy and skulking guy) like to witness these scenes, and maybe partake. There's gotta be a reason the Pyro targeted him...

​Lynching 6Edit

Blade smirked to himself as he was pushed forward by Lloyd.

"You know, I suppose I should thank you." Lloyd said to him. "With you dead, my plans of becoming the final Dark Hunter left standing have succeeded! And, since you foolishly selected Zakaro to go down with you, I'll be the only one left alive in this godforsaken dump... and I'll have survived two of these stupid things in a row, as well."

"Oh really? I thought you were on my side, but perhaps I was mistaken." Blade responded with a slight shrug.

"Oh no, I was on your side... I am merely happy to survive longer than you. No offense towards yourself intended."

"I should hope not. I did have a rather fun time playing the entire Village for fools with you, after all."

"We have the Turaga at last, the Medic is going down, we had the Pyro, Detective and Medic all fooled, and even the dead guys didn't know who we were until it was too late." Lloyd listed. "Then again, it was you and I - how were they ever going to beat us?"

"Hey! You two! Enough chat!" Zakaro yelled. "Let's get this execution on the road!"

Blade simply smirked as he and Lloyd stepped forward. Lloyd remained beside Zakaro and MIA, who up until this point had been quite literally MIA. Blade stood beside Kohrak Kal17, who was silently cursing the fact that the Dark Hunters had still been able to get enough votes in to lynch him.

"So, might I ask how you intend to kill us?" Blade asked. "I took the convenience of stealing your weapons and burning them, Lloyd - you'll have to use my gun when all is said and done. You'll only need one shot, after all. But I happen to know that neither the Medic nor our dear Turaga is in possession of any weapons."

"I have weapons, you fool!"

The Great and Powerful iBrow shimmered into existence above them, and emphasized his point by pointing at Kohrak Kal17. A lightning bolt flashed out and fried the unfortunate Matoran, and he was nothing more than a pile of ashes (which would have undoubtedly made the Pyro happy).

"Anyway," iBrow yawned, "I think I'll say goodbye now. Have fun celebrating!"

"Wait!" Zakaro yelled. "What about - what about Blade?!"

"Oh, don't worry, I'm sure you can deal with that." iBrow said, before popping away again.


The last four beings alive in the Village - Blade the Shadowed One, Lloyd the Ancient, Zakaro the Medic, and MIA the Turaga - all gathered at the White Wolf Pub & Inn, which in retrospect was a rather obvious clue towards Lloyd being guilty - but then, Lloyd had (until the Detective found him) covered his tracks exceptionally well.

Lloyd handed out a glass of wine to everyone, and they all rose their glasses (Zakaro and MIA rather reluctantly).

"To the survival of me!" Lloyd said loudly, "And the deaths of you three."

They all gulped down their glasses - at which point Lloyd cackled. Blade smirked as MIA and Zakaro immediately began to choke, some unknown poison laced within their wine already starting to kill them. Zakaro pulled out two syringes with shaking hands and plunged one into MIA, injecting him with a cure, before applying it to himself as well. They both plopped back onto their seats, gasping as they recovered from the poison. Blade still smiled knowingly, as he accepted a new glass from Lloyd.

This time it was Blade's turn. As he swallowed the wine, he could tell it tasted funny - with narrowed eyes he glanced over to Lloyd, who simply smiled at him and mouthed the words "alcohol poisoning". Blade shuddered as the poison began to take effect, but Zakaro would not save him.

"Just follow the plan, Blade." Lloyd told him. "You had to die anyway. Kill #1 - kill the Medic, and then we'll be remembered as the winners."

That was when Blade began to laugh, cackling madly as he shuddered and with shaking hands pulled out his gun. Lloyd stared at him, confused.

"What's so funny?"

"You, of course!" Blade said hoarsely, his voice beginning to die. "I've been after the Turaga this entire time - he was my number one target! And you expect me to let him go? No no no, Lloyd. You'll have to deal with Zakaro over there on your own."

He nodded to Zakaro, who dove over the counter to get away. Before Lloyd could react, Blade raised his gun and fired.


MIA fell out of his seat as the bullet pierced his chest, but he stood to his feet again.


The second bullet went through his heartlight, but MIA just stood up again, leaning against the coutner for support.


The third shot went through his eye. MIA collapsed, and did not move again. Three bullets for three votes that had never come, and now the Turaga was dead. Lloyd and Zakaro both looked over at Blade - the Shadowed One had collapsed as well, and the light was gone from his eyes.

Turaga executed by Blade.

Shadowed One executed by Lloyd.

Scene 7Edit

Zakaro stood in the Detective's house, bent over a safe that had been hidden under the couch.

"3... 19... 15... 1." he whispered as he put in the numbers.

The safe clicked open - inside was a gun, loaded with a single bullet. Zakaro sighed and grabbed it - he had one more stop to make before he showed himself to Lloyd.


Lloyd stood at the end of the street, two bullets loaded into his gun. It was unfortunate that Blade had betrayed him at the very last second and left him with the Medic, but judging from the information he'd interpreted earlier, Zakaro couldn't protect himself anyway.

"Hey! Looking for me?!"

Lloyd whirled around - there stood Zakaro, twenty feet away.

"You're late!" Lloyd responded.

"I'm not late. I arrived precisely when I wanted to." the Medic called. "Go ahead, then - shoot. We all know what has to happen."

Lloyd raised his gun and fired - the bullet sent Zakaro reeling, and the Medic stumbled several steps before clasping his chest, panting, and then collapsing onto his back. Lloyd laughed and slowly began to walk over, and when he'd reached the Medic he crouched down.

"So ends the Village." Lloyd said to himself. "It's really a shame that the Dark Hunters didn't last long enough for me to betray Blade and take over the group, but oh well - what are you going to do? Regardless, I'm the only survivor. I think that counts for something."

He stood up and turned away when something made him freeze.

"Are you so sure?"

Lloyd slowly turned around to face the downed Zakaro - who had a gun pointed right at his face. The Medic coughed.

"How?" Lloyd whispered. "You can't... you told me...."

"You misinterpreted." Zakaro chuckled. "Ah, I fooled Lloyd... what a nice final pleasure before I go. I protected myself."

Zakaro unzipped his medic robes with his free hand - Lloyd watched as the plot armour taken from the home of Canis Lupis slowly dissolved away. Zakaro got to his feet, his gun still aimed at Lloyd.

"So, since your kill failed," Zakaro said, with a small smile, "I think we both know what must go down. But since I'll vote for you, and you'll vote for me...."

Lloyd connected the dots right before Zakaro finished speaking. "Lovely. A Mexican standoff."

"I suppose you could say that." Zakaro shrugged.

Fast as lightning, Lloyd's gun was up and he fired - the bullet drilled right through Zakaro's chest and exited through his back. The Medic gasped and staggered backwards, the hand holding the gun waivering.

"Guess I win after all." Lloyd said.

To Zakaro, the world was turning a hazy red - but the sound of Lloyd's voice momentarily sharpened his senses. He raised his arm and fired. He heard Lloyd gasp as the bullet struck home, and then both Matoran collapsed onto the pavement.

Medic executed by Lloyd.

Ancient executed by Zakaro.

iBrow appeared with a flash, surveying the scene with disappointment.

"Man, I missed it!" he complained. "Oh well. Everybody dies, and that makes me one happy iBrow! Anyway, I'd better move onto the next town. I need to reserve my spot."

With that said, iBrow vanished again with a pop.

End of Bionicle Mafia III: By the Numbers - With a Vengeance