After an extremely long day, you retire to your rooms once again, knowing the barricades you erected last night will not hold. You can only hope you are not chosen to be killed... or worse.
Fuchs sits in his lab, scribbling furiously. Suddenly, the lights go out.
"Shit," he says, lighting a flare. The sudden red glow illuminates the man who has come for him.
"You!" Fuchs screams. "You're one of those... those THINGS!"
"Nope," replies Childs, leveling his flamethrower. "It's weird that the narrator is giving away my name, though."
Fuchs dashes to the right, but the jet of flame Childs sprays all over him consumes him before he can escape.
"Haha," Childs says, lighting a cigarette on the dying flames of the corpse. "That's one Thing down."
But the corpse of Fuchs remains normal. Human. A Dynamite carrier, but nothing more.
"Ah, shit," drawls Childs. "Guess I better get back to my room before someone sees me."
"Too late, monster," says a voice from behind him.
Childs wheels. "Wait, no! You don't understand! I'm human! I'm --"
But the sudden blast of flame cuts him off. Forever. The figure who killed him frowns as he realizes his mistake.
Childs was a Flamethrower.
8 players remain.
R. J. MacReady, Helicopter pilot
Dr. Blair, a station biologist
Nauls, the station's cook
Palmer, the station's backup helicopter pilot and mechanic
Dr. Copper, the station's physician
George Bennings, the station's meteorologist
Garry, the station commander
Windows, the station's radio operator
4 people are remains.
Clark - Human
Norris - Human
Fuchs - Dynamite
Childs - Flamethrower
It is now Day 3. It takes 5 votes to test.
48 hour timer begins now.