(http://i479.photobucket.com/albums/rr159/palmer_eldridge/Murder%20Island/43050_4.jpg)<br/><br/>[OOC: Sorry for the lengthy post, the next ones will be much shorter]<br/><br/>Clark<br/><br/><br/><br/>With a sigh he opened his eyes.  The room was cold, despite the heating was on. The air was humid and salty, bearing the distinct smell the sea had in this part of the world. A smell like no other Clark has ever smelled. He couldn't really tell what was so unique about this smell, but he knew he could recognize it among every other smell, even with his damaged from the coke nostrils.  As he sat on the bed, he glanced at the open window, not registering the sight at first.  "<em>Shit! That's why it's so cold in here</em>" he thought to himself after awhile. "<em>I must have left the window open last night</em>". He stretched as he stood up, heading for the shower.<br/><br/>Twenty minutes later, his masculine body was in a blue, cashmere Burberry sweater and a pair of dark chino, cotton denim Burberry jeans. His favorite brown Timberland leather shoes completing his casual outfit. He lit a Camel and inhaled the smoke deep into his lungs, letting it slowly out of his nostrils with pleasure.  With the cigarette hanging from his lips, he took a small metal box from his pocket. He opened it and put some of the thick white powder on a small mirror on the table.  He drew another sip of smoke as he started working on the powder with a credit card. In a few minutes, two long, white lines where laid on the mirror in front of him.  A short metal straw dug out of the other pocket was already in his right nostril. Then in the other nostril. Mmmmm,  the slight burn inside his nose, the bitterness on the back of his throat and down his stomach. Then came the rush, the warmth. His heart beating faster, his mind clearing out, raising his consciousness above normal peoples'.  Oh God, what a great feeling....<br/><br/>He put the box and the straw back in his pockets, grabbed the pack of Camels in his hand and stepped out, heading towards Liv 's room.  Images and sounds started popping in his head from their last night 's  quarrel.  "<em>That was one of our worst fights</em>". He thought. He loved Liv, but there 's one thing that he couldn't stand about her. Her hysteria. He could tolerate almost anything from that woman and God knows she sure deserved it. She loved him, she cared for him and she was the most beautiful woman since Eve. But her hysteria crises where just too much for him.<br/><br/>"<em>Be that as it may, today it's her birthday. Today all of this is of no importance. This day belongs to her</em>". He thought.  He knew exactly what had to be done, to cast out last night 's bad memories and give her the most  pleasant wake up at the same time.  He would sneak into her bedroom, approach her quietly while she was asleep and give her 'oral pleasure'.  Waking up from his soft kisses down there, on her most sensitive spot, was Liv 's favorite.  Success was guaranteed.  With a lust fueled smirk, he opened the door to Liv 's room.<br/><br/>The fact that the door was not shut properly passed unnoticed by Clark, as his attention was on being quiet.  The sight before him made him freeze into position.  He blinks and blinks and then he blinks again.  His mind unable to comprehend the information from his eyes.  Unaware that his jaw is practically hanging on his face, causing his mouth to form an 'O',  he is standing there unable to move a single muscle.  "<em>What the Hell was in that coke?</em>" His numb consciousness asks inside his head.   He suddenly realizes that his mouth soreness could shame Sahara. As if the first muscle to move in order to close his mouth, unlocked all of his kinetic abilities again, he rushes beside his loved one and knees on the floor taking her pretty, blonde, alas lifeless head into his hands.  "<em>LIV! LIV! My love, wake up!</em>" He cries in vein.  Tears emerge from his eyes, rolling down his chins, as he holds her lifeless head on his lap.  Finally he starts registering the information before him.  Her blueish lips, the pillow that was on her head before he tossed it away.  The blunt trauma on her head and finally the blood on the floor and on his hands and lap.  "<em>My God</em>" the apocalypse of the scene is like a nuclear blast inside his head. "<em>Someone murdered her!</em>".<br/><br/>The cocaine-induced paranoia kicks in and he swiftly stands up.  "<em>Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Shit! Fuck me! If someone finds me in here, I'm screwed.  I'm gonna end my days in the gas chamber!</em>". With his mind boiling, he turns and grasps a final glimpse of his deceased fiance as he steps out of the door.  "<em>Lord , please spare me from this one...</em>" he pleads silently.  Unfortunately for him his plea was not heeded.<br/><br/>"<em>Good morning, Clark. How 's Liv? Still asleep?</em>" the voice of Claire Ashton echoed in the hallway.  "<em>Where the fuck did you came from?</em>" was the answer that came to his mind.  A frenzy train of thoughts. "<em>Oh God I'm fucked</em>". "<em>RUN RUN RUN</em>". "<em>No they'll get me</em>". "<em>The stupid bitch! Couldn't she 'd come five minutes later?</em>". "<em>What should I do?</em>". "<em>FUUUUUCK!!!</em>".<br/><br/>The voice of Claire, now standing beside him outside Liv 's room, snapped him out of it as she spoke once again: "<em>Well, aren't you gonna say good morning? Is everything OK dear?</em>"<br/><br/>"<em>No Claire, everything is not OK. In fact, everything is fucked up. So fucked up, that I'm forced to do this...</em>" Before even finishing his sentence, his fist stroke her on the chin rendering her unconscious.   "<em>Now what you dick-head? What are you gonna do with her now?</em>"  The voice in his head was laughing at him. "<em>You are so fucked. You won't even get a court trial. Straight into the gas chamber</em>". He couldn't afford that.<br/><br/>He looked at the direction Claire had come from, down the hallway. There was breakfast being served. He could hear Milton ringing the bells already.  No. Absolutely not.  His only other option was at the other end of the hallway, though the back door and out on the island. If he could get there he might have a chance.  He lifted the unconscious Claire's body on his back and headed down the stairs.  This time luck seemed to favor him, as the other guests were either already having breakfast, or still in their rooms.  Once he got out of the house unnoticed, he headed for the cave at the east side of the island.  He knew this cave pretty well, since he had spend some romantic time there in the past.<br/><br/>The entrance of the cave was somehow hidden by some overgrown bushes.  He walked deep into the cave and placed Claire on a plateau, still unconscious.  He reached into his pocket and took a Camel from the pack.  Lit it and sat down on the plateau, smoking deeply, in order to calm himself.  He had to think what to do next.  "<em>And now what dick-head?</em>" The voice in his head spoke again. He needed some kind of rope to tie Claire up. At least until he could figure something better. He took of his denim pants and grabbed a nearby rock.  With the help of the rock he managed to tore the pants to stripes.  He then perplexed them together creating a $250 rope.  He tied her wrists and her ankles firmly, gagged her and headed back to the mansion.<br/><br/>Fortunately he managed to sneak back into his room without any unwanted encounters.  "<em>Fuck me</em>" He thought as he was laying an adequate dose of cocaine on the mirror.  "<em>Things are gonna get hard here very soon. I've gotta find out who killed Liv. Otherwise I am doomed</em>" he thought as he leaned over the mirror with the metallic straw in his nostril. His hands still stained with Liv 's blood.<br/>