Ritchie's Voice Conquers All

The rumor of my presence spreads quickly throughout the seventh hall. I stride towards him, undeterred and without hurrying. The intercom updates the current situation. State one has been breached. Air quality has been compromised. Population 25 infiltrators. One host. 1001 guests. They are too far away to be heard, but the pronouncement of their very existence sends a collective shutter of growing terror among the guests that is mostly expressed by turning heads. Somebody grab this freak show and get his fucking mask off. It's almost a scream, equal parts terror and outrage. Ritchie fires his gun. A bullet passes through me. Then lodges itself squarely in the stomach of one who

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