Just so's you know, I was the minion in my relationship with Harland. So it was his fault, the two people we killed (yes, I'm counting the Archivist, Harland ordered me to get him voted off so I looked through his conversations and used what little evidence presented itself). Though I thunk of Darvy's death scene all by myself. Shame we hadn't lived longer... but it was sensible of you to kill us off ASAP, if it's any consolation we were trying the exact same thing (with indescribably poor results...)
And just because I think it was a nice bit of writing... here's what would have happened if our group had got to kill someone on the second night (instead of me dying). Feel free to say it's awful though. This would have been the death of Carlos Rey, a.k.a Ummm... not sure. He's definitely dead now though...
His two guns had been analytically taken apart, and each piece used to cut a short line on some part of his body. The pieces were laid out in descending order of size on a cloth on his bedside table. As he bled out, whoever had killed him had carefully caught the drips of blood in the barrels, the ends of which had been sealed for this purpose. His precious notebook was torn to shreds, but not at random. Instead, upon looking carefully [person searching his room] saw that each fragment was a single word, cut out with incredible precision then apparently abandoned on the floor.
But the purpose of this was clear from the wall above the bed. Carlos’ reanimated body was carefully picking up words and sticking them to the wall with his own blood, a drop for each piece from the gun barrels. As the searcher entered, he finished and lay back on his bed, becoming once again naught more than a lacerated corpse. His message was spelt out.
‘Did you ENJOY my game, little humans? Did you like searching for your friends’ meat at my command? Do you love me now, weaklings, fools; do you love the lord of the dead? Then do as I do. As I kneel before my master, and he kneels before his mistress, so you must kneel now before me, and perhaps I shall stay my hand. Or perhaps you are kneeling for the executioner’s axe? Only ONE way to find out!’