Red turned to White. The "Crewmate" was leaning against the glass, chest heaving with relief. "We did it, Red. We got him."
Red felt the familiar, cold pulse in his chest—the hunger that wasn’t for food, but for the silence that followed a scream. He wasn't a crewmate. He was a passenger in a stolen skin.
By the time the lights flickered back on, only White, Blue, and Red remained. Crewmates - Kill All (Impostor)
The meeting was a blur of accusations. "I saw Blue near Medbay," White shouted. "Red was in Admin," Blue countered. Red nodded solemnly. "I was. Doing uploads."
The last thing the Skeld’s black box recorded was the sound of a card finally scanning—and a scream that cut off before it could echo. Red turned to White
As they dispersed, Red sabotaged the lights. The Skeld plunged into a suffocating, oily blackness. In the chaos of Navigation, Yellow panicked. He ran straight into Red’s arms, thinking it was a friend. Red whispered a comfort he didn't feel before snapping Yellow’s neck with a clinical flick of his wrist. Two down.
White was shaking, a wrench held like a club. "It’s him," he pointed at Blue. "He was behind me the whole time." "I was trying to stay safe!" Blue screamed. We got him
Red didn't use a knife. He didn't need one. His jaw unhinged further than any human’s ever could, a sharp, obsidian tongue flickering out. One swift strike through the visor. Green slumped against the panel, his last breath a fog on the glass. Red stepped into the vent, the metal grating clicking shut just as Pink walked in.