Dr. Armstrong sat in the drawing room in contemplation. He couldn't trust anybody, everyone was a possible suspect, all of them could've very well caused the deaths of Tony, Rogers, and Macarthur. This was not how this "visit" was supposed to go. He was only to check up on a women that he wasn't even sure existed right now. He was growing more and more anxious as he sat there thinking, thinking, thinking. He was going to drive himself mad, but who could blame him? They were all going a little mad. That's what happens when you're trapped on murder island. His attention wasn't anywhere particular in the room since he was much more focused on his thoughts, running everything over in head. While he should've paid more attention, even he knew that deep down, he felt as if he were safe at that moment. Three dead. Surely the murderer would now need to rethink and recoup now that the guests have caught onto him. Suddenly, his gaze shifted, he heard a noise, a person. It had to be, he couldn't take any chances, he had to believe it was a person and so he called out

"Excuse me? Is someone there?"

He slowly rises to his feet, looking around the room. Where did that noise come from? Who made it? And why were they being so sneaky? Why would they try to hide from Armstrong. Sounded mighty suspicious if you ask him. He slowly took in the room, who was that? Where are they? Who was that? Where are they? Who was that? Where are they?. . . . He repeated it over and over in his head, keeping his mind and eyes focused