#sorry i just finished who killed markiplier and when the colonel said ‘it was an accident i swear’ i had a vivid memory of the very first

[dirt-str1der]

Still fucked up over the fact that markiplier lovesss his marksonas and is still using them in his content to this day

[orange-waterfalls]

What Did You Do?

Platonic Wilford Warfstache x gender neutral!reader

@insertadumbnamehere ty for the request!

A/N: ok, so, this one takes place before, during, and almost immediately after WKM. I figured that "The Warfstache Affair" would take place pretty soon after it, so yeah. Wilford is referred to as William and The Colonel. You two are besties. Rated... T for cursing. Uh,,, I finished this during study hall instead of studying so... Appreciate my work. Inform me on any mistakes please.

Asks and submissions are open!

Word Count: 2.2k

--

You sat in the living room of your house, waiting for your friend to show up. William had a knack for being late to everything, you knew this and have accepted it by now. You were browsing through movies, wondering what you guys should watch. Nothing about Safari's or about a war. You might trigger something. He'd been through too much.

You heard your door unlock and creak open. You'd given him a key at this point in your friendship. You looked up at the Colonel and smiled. He wasn't looking at you.

"Hey, Will," you greeted. He nodded to you, a small smile on his face. It seemed forced.

"Evening," he responded. You tilted your head slightly.

"I uh… was looking for a movie. Anything in mind?"

"No… not particularly…"

"Ok. Well I found some feel-good movies, or we have some horror if you'd--"

"I got a letter," he interrupted. You raised an eyebrow at him. He cleared his throat. "It's… it's from Mark…" you scrambled to your feet, walking over to him. He was holding a letter with "William J. Barnum" written on it. You knew about his… falling out with the actor. It was pretty bad, from what you heard. Over a girl as well. You thought that to be a bit immature, but you didn't need to tell him that.

"What does it say?" You asked.

"I don't know. I haven't looked yet."

"Why not?"

"I wanted to wait until I was over here," you squinted at him in confusion. "In case… I read something I don't like…"

"Well… open it!" You urged. He tore the top open and took out a piece of paper. He read it to himself. You didn't need him to read it out loud to you, as you looked over his boulder to read.

"I've… been invited to Markiplier Manor for… a party…" he explained. You stepped away from his shoulder and stood in front of him.

"Well?" You asked.

"Well what?"

"Are you going?"

"No! Why would I?" He asked. You furrowed your eyebrows.

"Because… he's your friend--"

"Was my friend, Y/N. Was my friend…" he spoke quietly. You rolled your eyes.

"Ah, yes. It must've slipped my mind that you two behaved like 3rd graders…"

"Hey!"

"... And haven't talked to each other in years because of a girl." The Colonel stepped towards you.

"Celine is not just a girl…" he said in a warning tone.

"Yes, yes, I know. She's a woman. And you don't talk to your best friend because of her!"

"He's not my best friend, you are!" Your face heats up a bit. "And anyways, I didn't stop talking to him because of that, I stopped talking to him because he was a selfish prick!"

"And you didn't even try to talk it out? That seems a bit immature, Will…"

"Oh, please. Like you're mature…" you frowned at him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You aren't exactly the most fair person yourself."

"Oh, really?" You raised your voice. "Care to elaborate, William?"

"Why, yes," he growled. "You're needy, you're selfish, you complain so much when you don't get everything you want--"

"What are you talking about?"

"Sometimes I don't want to hang out with you, Y/N!" He yelled. "Sometimes I just want to hang out in my own home by myself, but you just want me to hang out with you at every chance you get. And I do not want that!"

"Why not?!" You yelled, your voice cracking. You didn't have many friends, William was one of the few you had. Of course you wanted to hang out with him. You didn't have to be doing anything just… being near each other was fine for you. You could admit, you were a bit clingy.

"Sometimes you remind me of him," he sighed. You didn't think it was a compliment.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You asked. At this point, William had already lost his temper, and was now just spitting whatever popped into his mind.

"It means the only difference between you and him is that he has enough money to pay people to stick around! All your friends just feel sorry for you!" He snapped and realized his mistake all too late. You stared at him with a hurt look, feeling the tears glazing your eyes. You had trusted him with one of your insecurities. You had let him in. And now he was using that against you.

"Y/N…" you spun away from him. "Y/N I didn't mean…" he reached out to touch your shoulder, but you jerked away. He pulled back. You were letting the tears spill and quietly crying. Soft enough that he could tell you were trying to hide it, but loud enough that he heard you anyways. He put his arm back at his side.

"I'd like you to leave," you said, your voice wavering. His eyebrows furrowed.

"Y/N-"

"Leave, Will!" You demanded. He sighed.

"I'll… go to the party… we'll talk later, okay?" He said. You didn't respond. He sighed and left your house, leaving you to cry on your own.

--

It had been about a week since you'd seen or heard from the Colonel, and you were ready to talk. You thought he was just giving you space since he knew how upset you were. You texted him, "hi, Will. I wanted to apologize and say that I'm ready to talk whenever you are." And left it at that. You didn't think much about the fact that he didn't respond, until the next day.

Two policemen had shown up at your door.

"Can I help you?" You asked, slightly nervous.

"Do you know a William J. Barnum?" They asked. Your heart stopped.

"Um… yes…"

"We'd like to ask you a couple questions about him." You opened the door for them to come inside. You invited them to sit down on your couch, and made some coffee since it was early.

"So…" you began, nervously. "What's up with Will?"

"He went missing," The cop on the left said.

"Oh…"

"After he presumably killed 5 people." You froze. William? Kill people? No… no, he couldn't… he wouldn't…

"Excuse me?" The cop on the right called your attention. You snapped up to him.

"Huh?"

"When was the last time you saw him?"

"Oh… um… a couple days ago… he told me he was going to Markiplier Manor for a party… we had a fight… I haven't heard from him since then…"

"I'm sorry." The left cop apologized. You nodded at him. "Do you have any idea of where he could be?"

"Uh… no. No, I don't think so…"

"Do you have any idea of what could've cause him to do this?"

"Well… he has some anger issues… and, uh, he doesn't really like Mark… they had a… falling out a while ago… over a girl…"

"A girl?"

"Yes. Celine…"

"Celine? Sister of the mayor Celine?"

"Yes?"

"She's one of the people who've gone missing since the party. Along with Mayor Damien, and a District Attorney." You widened your eyes.

"W-What about the other two?"

"Hm?"

"You said he presumably killed five people? What about the other two?"

"Oh, uh… Mark's Butler told us that Markiplier was dead, but his body had gone missing. And uh, we found the body of a detective in the Manor. He was shot in the chest with a 357 Magnum." You frown. "Any recollection of that?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah… he takes his Magnum everywhere…"

"Mm…"

"But… I never thought he'd…" you felt the tears burning your eyes as they threatened to fall. The left cop sets a gentle hand on your arm.

"I'm sorry about this. I know it's hard, especially if we don't even know for sure. But we need you to work with us," he consoled. They also you a couple more questions before standing up to leave.

"Here's the police station's number. Call if you get anything from him, okay?" The right cop said. You nodded, wipond your eyes with the back of your hand. They thanked you for the coffee and left. You sat on your couch, sighing. William…

"Damnit, William, what'd you get yourself into?" You mumbled and got out your phone.

--

William sat in the empty room, music playing on a boombox in the corner. He was thinking, and the beats of 80s songs were apparently helping with that.

Why were the police after him? He didn't do anything. He didn't kill anybody. He knew he didn't. I mean… the District Attorney was living proof of that. Abe was… fine. Right? Of course he was… if they were alive, why wouldn't he be? He started to laugh a bit. This was so… ridiculous! It was mad! He loved it!

There may have been something wrong with his head. Watching the person you killed come back after seven hours can do that to a person…

But he wasn't crazy. He wasn't. He knew that for a fact.

bzzt

He turned his head to the phone he sat on the boombox and raised his eyebrows.

bzzt

"Now, who could that be?" He said to no one in particular. He leaped to his feet and waltzed over.

bzzt

He looked at the phone, checking to see who it was. The contact name was "N/N". You had changed it to your nickname a while ago, saying that if he had a nickname, you should have one too. He smiled widely as he saw it.

bzzt

He picked up the phone.

"N/N! Hello, how are you? It's been a while, huh?" He said, his voice all over the place.

"William, what did you do?" You asked bluntly.

"Well, I missed you too…"

"William. What did you do?"

"Not much. I had some cake the other day and-"

"William..." You growled. He furrowed his eyebrows, wondering what you were so upset about. Then, he laughed.

"Ah, so the police got to you. I didn't do anything." He claimed.

"Don't lie to me, Will," you warned.

"I'm not! I would never!"

"Then why do the police think you killed five people?!"

"Five people? No!" He paused. "...maybe two or three…"

"What?"

"It's fine, they came back! Well… one of them did…"

"What the hell are you talking about?" He grunted in frustration.

"I shot them in the chest. I sat right there next to the body for several hours. Then they just got back up. Right there in front of me."

"... okay… William-"

"I was thinking of changing my name, actually! What do you think about "Wilford Warfstache"?"

"I think we shouldn't talk for a while." You said quickly. William's smile dropped and he froze.

"What?" He asked softly.

"I think, until things calm down, you should lay low for a while and… we shouldn't talk."

"But… but I like talking-"

"I know, Will. I like talking to you too. But this is serious. You're in trouble for some really bad things. You should try not to make it worse, okay? Keep quiet and don't cause trouble." You commanded. "It'll be safer for the both of us if we don't stay in contact. You know my address, you have a key, I don't plan on moving anytime soon. If you really need to come here you can."

"Y/N…"

"I'm gonna miss you, Will." Your voice cracked as you spoke. William felt tears pricking at his own eyes.

"I'll… miss you too…"

"Goodbye…"

"Wait!"

"What?"

"I'm sorry… about before…"

"I know… I am too…"

"... I love you…" you chuckled from the other end of the line.

"I… love you too…" Then you hung up. William stood there for a moment, not sure what to do. You were his best friend. What was he supposed to do now? Who was he supposed to have a movie night with? Who was he supposed to talk to?

He looked over to his previous spot on the floor, where he's left his gun. What was one way he could let you know he was doing good without contacting you?

He smiled and started giggling.

"Time to cause some chaos!"

--

It had been three weeks since your call with William. The police contacted you occasionally, asking if you heard anything. You always said no. You knew William, and he wouldn't do anything like that on purpose. So, you didn't tell the police anything.

You worried about William. He didn't seem like himself on the call. He seemed… loose. More… careless. That was worrying.

You sighed as you opened your front door, having just bought groceries. You sat the bags in your kitchen and turned on the TV to have some background noise as you cooked. You flipped through the channels until something on the news caught your eye. You went back to it

"--a gruesome series of murders committed by a man who calls himself "Wilford Warfstache". The police think this man may be the fugitive William J. Barnum, who is allegedly killed the actor Mark Fischbach, the mayor of the town, the mayor's sister, a detective on the case, and a district attorney." the newswoman explained. You gaped at the TV. "He is responsible for killing a woman, her husband, their neighbor, their dog, and possibly, their baby. If you see this man, call the number on screen right away." They showed a picture of William with his mustache dyed pink. You buried your face in your hands and swore.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me…"

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Who Killed Markiplier - What if Damien Went to War?

A note before we start. Both William and Damien would around 19/20 years old toward the end of WW1. There are some minor differences in how I write them here compared to how they would normally be. Damien is still caring and loyal, but he is shy. It’s only in university that he properly gained his voice and confidence, so he grows timid a little easier. Because of this, he’ll be a little more passive than what might be expected if it was closer to their normal ages. As for William, while he is still eccentric, he’s far more grounded during the war. With all the responsibilities on his shoulders, he has enough to keep himself busy and focused. His odd nature is channelled more into keeping morale boosted. 

Word Count: 2,410

TW: War, guns, violence, major injury, death.

--

William had to read the letter three times to be sure he wasn’t going insane.

It was dated from a month ago, written in Damien’s neat handwriting, and had the shortest message his friend had ever sent:

I’m coming out there.

Damien.

Out of context, it sounded rather ominous. Had William gotten in so much trouble that he had to be chased after and scolded by a young man his own age? But take the date it was sent into account - April 23rd, 1917.  William was in the French trenches. And soon, so would Damien.

-

The men in the Colonel’s squad couldn’t understand the source of his frustration. Despite the wall of the trench being made from solidified mud and wooden beams, he had still managed to punch the earth so hard that his fist left a dent. There was one thing that William had made Mark and Damien promise - no matter what, don’t follow him to war. Don’t get involved. Mark was far cockier than William was. He would try and play the hero, do something reckless and get himself killed. But Damien was nothing like that. The political student was too soft for his own good. Everyone knew that the world was cruel. It was nothing like how plays and stories made it out to be. However, war was something else entirely. It was ruthless, unforgiving, and thrived in suffering. Once you enlisted, you lost all sense of identity. You became nothing more than a pawn in a larger game you had no control over, and you had to hope you’d make it out alive.

When meeting with other high-ranked officials, he pulled strings. He pleaded and bartered to make sure Damien was in his regiment, under his command. It would be one way to ensure he wasn’t driven insane with worry. It also meant that Damien wasn’t alone. Even if William was busy attending to other matters, his right hand man Jean would be there to keep an eye on him. The group of men under his command were a friendly bunch too. They’d be able to help him adjust to the awful setting they were in.

--

When Damien did arrive, terrified was an understatement. His eyes were wide as he took everything in. The grime, the muck, the injuries, the stench of blood, the sound of gunfire far in the distance. It truly was as his instructor had warned the new recruits. Anxiety was hitting him hard, but there was no way he could back down. He had to do something beyond hiding in a university and hoping for good news.

“Damien.”

Of course, he didn’t expect good news upon arrival either. The second-in-command had taken the other men elsewhere, leaving the two old friends alone. William was tired and worn out (and seemed to be growing a moustache), but Damien would swear that he had never once been so intimidated by him. William’s arms were crossed, and his head held high to glare at the slightly younger man.

“Were you not the one who once told me of the importance of trust?” William paused for a response, but none was given. “Were you not the one who always insisted that he would never break a promise?” That, at least, got a nod from Damien. “Then what in God’s name are you doing here?! I thought I made it clear in every fucking letter I sent home that you should stay where you were! Why bring yourself to death like this?!”

“I…. I had to. Men were being called in for extra support, and -”

“I don’t care! You weren’t supposed to come! This isn’t a place for someone like you, Damien!” The sudden shout made Damien flinch, but William didn’t care. “Look around us! Every man here is in danger! You could get shot, knocked back into something, have a shell dig into your skin. You could go to hospital and get an infection or catch some sickness they don’t have the medication for! Any man here could die at any moment. I could die tomorrow, and then what will you do, Damien? What will you do when you watch someone die for the first time?”

Silence.

Had Damien ever seen William this furious before? While he was also angry, an argument would only make matters worse. After several long moments, holding his tongue proved to be the better option as William marched forward and pulled him into a tight hug.

“God, I’m sorry. Just… Promise me you’ll go home as soon as you can.” Damien didn’t answer at first, but he nodded into the other’s uniform.

--

Six months was a long time in the trenches. Once William had calmed down after his initial outburst, Damien recognised the teenager that had been one of his dearest friends. But of course, they were barely twenty years old, but William had to put that aside. He was a Colonel, one of the youngest around. He was holding a position normally given to a man twice his age. During the long, boring days, he could see the pressures William was under. William spent a large portion of his time making sure all the weapons were in working order with enough ammo, that the trenches were stable, that they all knew how their weapons worked, what exactly needed to be done when the ‘go over the top’ order was given. Damien and the others were given chances to practice hand-to-hand combat, basic first aid - “put pressure on the wound and don’t let go!” - and what to do if someone was discovered to be missing.

No wonder William wrote letters. There was little else to distract yourself with.

But somehow, William managed. He would regale stories of his younger days and encourage others to do the same. In fact, Damien would swear that this was fuelled by his own arrival. Weeks bled together, and he got to know most of the other men better. As a whole, they were a friendly, supportive group who had dreams and ambitions beyond the trenches. Some kept to themselves, while others disappeared after catching an illness from all the time spent outdoors, or were injured in combat.

As for those who were killed…. He mourned them. How could he ignore the impact it made on him? No one deserved to die in such an awful place. The longer he spent there, the more certain of it he was. Sometimes, he was convinced William thought little of him for getting emotional over the loss of human life. But he knew William well, and was sure that the Colonel would mourn quietly and alone. He had to keep morale boosted, even if it meant hiding his grief. The war would continue on.

“I need to finish my studies when I get home,” he explained to William one night. The pair sat aside from the rest of the men, as they would in times when they just needed the company of the other. “This all started because of politics. If I could somehow get there, I want to make sure this never happens again. I don’t want anyone else suffering like this.”

“You would have the support of a million men and women who have seen it for themselves,” William agreed with a nod. His moustache was looking better, but Damien was still getting used to the sight of it. He couldn’t imagine how unkempt he must look in comparison. “I’ll make sure of it myself, damn it. You won’t start that movement alone.” His right hand firmly grasped Damien’s shoulder with a smile. “You’ll be the finest politician out there, Dames.”

-

January 20th, 1918.

The call had gone in that morning for an ‘up and over’. It had been bloody, but no ground had been lost. The other soldiers had pulled back to check their own injured, and William’s men were doing the same. One or two had received gunshot wounds, but they were injuries that could be treated quickly in a nearby emergency medical setting. 

Damien had lingered behind to make sure everyone was able to return to the trenches safely.  They were all tired, but all could walk. 

“MEN! HURRY UP! THIS ISN’T A WALK IN THE PARK. GET DOWN HERE!”

Himself and another man found energy out of nowhere to frantically race back to the trench as bullets zipped past them. Never had such a dismal place looked like sanctuary. Both men made it to the trench, and the first climbed down. With Damien there, all would be accounted for, thankfully.

A cry of agony ripped through the silence as Damien fell straight into the trench. A bullet had gone clean through his left thigh. Not only that, he had taken the impact of the fall on that leg. Even without the bullet wound, it was badly broken.

“GET A STRETCHER, NOW!”

William’s booming voice was filled with desperation as he knelt down beside his friend. He took one of Damien’s hands.

“Come on now, Damien. Stay with me. Squeeze my hand. I’m right here.” The tightened grip was nothing painful for William, but it was a good sign that the other could respond immediately. “Peter and Eddie have gone to get one of the stretchers. There’s a medical centre about a mile from here. They’re going to take good care of you there. You’re going to be alright.”

“Will, please… Don’t leave me. I don’t want to go alone.” Damien’s voice strained with the intensity of the pain. It was a struggle to keep awake.

“I’ll be there, Dames. I’ll make sure I’m there with you. I said I’d protect you, didn’t I?” He had, he remembered. Damien had smiled and said that he was honoured that such a brave soldier would be like a knight in shining armour for him. But that was before the war. Before Damien joined him here. Before that blasted attack. Before -

“Dames? Dames! Please! Wake up! Stay with me!”

“Colonel, move back!” 

To William’s horror, the men had managed to get some of the medical assistants over as well. He saw the look they shared. He tried to scramble to his feet, but Jean held him back.

“He’s not dead! He can’t be dead! He’s fine!”

--

--

--

Ten months.

Ten months with no news on Damien.

After a lot of badgering, he was told that the injured party was transferred to a hospital in England. That was never a good sign. He wrote letter after letter pleading Mark or Celine to tell him what happened, even if that meant telling him the worst.

In January, he was upset, but optimistic. He confided in Jean that Damien had to be alive, that William would somehow know if Damien was dead. The pair pulled together and set about keeping spirits up.

By March 4th, 1918, he had lost Jean too.

For two full weeks, William was inconsolable. It was as though all the pain of war had finally broken him and left his chest hollow and numb. But on the fifteenth day, he was behaving like the man he was before - loud, optimistic, hard-working. All his grief and sorrow had been bottled up and buried as deep as possible. Never did he want to consider how he was letting the men who were still alive down. He would make sure they would all survive and go home.

And that was exactly what he did. Through some miracle, not a single man under his command died between March and November 1918. He had to do it. Damien would have wanted him to protect them.

-

The trip back to America was long and lonely. Part of him almost didn’t want to return, but he had nowhere else to go. Every mile felt much longer. Every day felt like another month. But eventually, land could be seen. A boat bringing soldiers home was docking on the east coast, which only meant that a painfully long journey alone faced him. Why was California so far away?

But as he stepped off the boat, two figures were standing in the crowd waiting for him. He had to restrain himself from charging over, but both Celine and Mark were pulled into a tight hug the moment he was close enough to reach them.

“It’s so good to see you both…” Jokes and casual banter would come later. He had to overcome this important moment first. Neither Celine nor Mark pulled away until William did so first, and both were surprised to see him crying.

“I’m so sorry… I tried. I tried as hard as I could. I couldn’t save him…” A man of his position shouldn’t be blubbering like a baby, but the tears flowed without any intent on stopping.

“We have a hotel booked near here, but we want you to get checked up first. God knows what sickness you have under all that uniform. And it’s being sponsored by the city, so it won’t cost a dime.” Mark meant well, but neither expected such a strong refusal to go to a hospital.

“William, please. Just for ten minutes, and then we can go out for dinner. We’ll be with you the whole time.” The couple had to reassure William three times before they could get him to budge, but they kept their word. The entire time they stayed with him, keeping him company and trying to distract him from whatever troubles were eating at him.

The check-up went well, and William was prescribed with some simple medicine and tasks to help rebuild his immune system, and the three began to make their way back through the hospital. The Colonel had noticed the way Celine took in their surroundings, but put it down to making sure they wouldn’t get lost amongst the swarms of people. She took his hand and took a sharp right into a room.

It was a one-bed ward. The room was in need of painting and new quilt covers, but it was peaceful. Even so, alarm bells began to ring the moment he noticed the empty bed.

“You two said we were going for dinner! You promised we would only be ten minutes! I am not letting either of you leave me here like some forgotten creature! I-”

“Colonel…?” 

William quickly spun at the voice. A figure stood at the bathroom door.

He was on crutches to support his missing leg, and looked unwell, but it was Damien.

He was alive.

[princessbelix]

Who Killed Mark

Episode 1

You’ve been invited to Markiplier Manor for a night full of poker, social situations, and fun. Nothing suspicious. None at all. Anyway, we home to see you there!

~Markiplier

————

Hi! It’s me! It’s been a while since I wrote anything. This story was a school assignment. It might be a little later to jump on the train. Oh well. Enjoy!

~Belix

��   You started to walk up towards the Manor. You paused for a moment as you noticed a man standing in an arch way before the door. “Oh, Bully! And here I thought I was gonna be the last guest to arrive.” He gestured to himself, “My friends call me the Colonel. You’re welcome to do the same, but uh, after you.” He opened the door and held it open for you.

   You walked into the entry room. It had a small chandelier hanging from the ceiling and a wide mirror on the wall opposite from where you where standing. A man dressed in a vest and tie walked up to you. “Ah! Bonjour!” The Butler exclaimed, “Welcome to Markiplier Manor. Your invitation, please.” You hand the Butler your invitation. “Very good, very good. Right this way.” He gestured for you to follow him, “Good luck at the table tonight.” He bowed and said “I shall fetch you a drink forthwith.”

    You walked a bit further into the Manor. When you noticed Damien, an old friend of yours standing off to the side. “Oh! There you are, old friend. How are you settling into your new office? Now, I know it’ll take some getting used to, but there’s no one I would rather have alongside me to protect this great city of ours.” He looked at his watch as he spoke. “Now I’ll see you at the table soon,” he chuckled a little, “but try not to rob me blind again; we’ll catch up.”

    You decided to kill time by trying to find the dining room, where you have been told the poker game will be had. “If you’re looking for hors d'oeuvres,” you turned around as soon as you hear this man's deep voice. The man had on all white clothing and a chef’s hat. You were caught off guard when he held up an knife. “I’ll get them when I’m good and ready!” the chef stated. You scrambled to leave the room you have accidentally wandered into, “And stay out of my kitchen!”     The Butler walked in at the perfect time, “Now, now. Let’s not be rude to our guest.” He walked with you to what you assumed was the dining room. When you arrived he bowed and said, “So sorry about that; here’s your champagne. Enjoy your evening.”    The Butler exited the room as Mark entered from a staircase, rather dramatically, “Welcome, welcome, one and all! My name is Mark,” he gestured to himself.” “Thank you for joining me on this auspicious evening. So good to be surrounded by such close and trusted friends.” He swept his arms in front of him. “Now, this evening, it’s not all about the poker, it’s not all about me. It’s about me, it’s about you. So drink up and be merry! Life is for the living! And who knows, I could be dead tomorrow.” Mark starts laughing maniacally as you take a drink from your glass.

    You wake up the next morning at 8:30 and get attacked with flashes of what happened last night. Everyone playing poker happily, Damien doing a handstand over a barrel, the Colonel and Mark playing Russian Roulette where no one died, lastly the

Detective punching you and seeing an alarm clock next to your bed reading 1:30am.

    You climbed out of bed and decided to head out for some food. You opened the door and was meet with the gaze of the Butler. “Ah, good morning.” He smiled as all morning people, “Hope you had a good night’s rest. I’ve prepared you a Seltzer. Best thing for the morning after, if you ask me.“ He set the glass he was holding on the table in front of you. You walked forward and downed the nasty-tasting Seltzer. You looked in front of you and noticed Damien standing.     “Ah, there’s our little monster!” He said, mock punching your shoulder. “You really knocked ‘em dead last night. I haven’t seen you go wild like that since our days at university. Good to let the beast out every once in awhile, eh, old friend?” he smiled as he remembered the good days. That smile quickly turned into a frown as he thought about something, “Then again, I’m still not exactly sure as to what we’re supposed to be celebrating here. I mean, it’s good to have the gang back together,” he spread his arms wide, “but out of the blue like this seems…” he trailed off. He shook his head clearing that thought from his head. “Anyway, now is not the time to become conspiratorial. Life is ours to choose as I always say. I have some work to finish, but I’ll meet you at breakfast. We’ll all catch up later.” He headed past to you to what seems to be the Colonel’s room.

    You headed down the curving staircase. You looked at anything that caught your eye. The painting on the wall and the suit of armor at the bottom of the stairs were interesting. You turned back to the living room to grab your jacket you think left last night. All of the sudden, Mark comes falling out of nowhere and you heard the sound of him hitting the ground. You stand there shocked into silence. The detective walks in,“Did anyone hear that lightning?” He noticed Mark’s body laying on the floor! “OH MY GOD! There’s been a murder!” A loud boom of thunder sounds.

    The Butler walks in next, “Excuse me. Did you hear lightn- oh my god, murder!” Another clap of thunder sounds off, shaking the house a little.     The chef saunters in with a ladle in hand, “Did you-“ he pauses for a moment when he sees the body before screeching “MURDER!” One more clap of thunder shakes the house as you look around, trying to find the source of the thunder . Finding none, you turn back to Mark’s body.     “What the hell happened here?” The detective asked. When no one answered he asked another question, “Who’s in charge around here? Trick question.” He pointed at the body, “That guy.”     The detective threw his hands up in the air before saying, “And he’s dead now, which makes me in charge. So you better listen up good, bucko.” He sticks his finger out and pokes your nose while he accuses you, “‘Case you haven’t been paying attention, there’s been a bit of a killin’. And you’re my prime suspect! So you better get to explaining right quick as to the what, where, when, and why you happened to be here upon this man’s death.” You opened your mouth to defend yourself, when the Butler spoke up.     “Sir, the body is cold. He’s been dead a while.” The detective rolled his eyes.     “A likely story. That I happen to believe completely.” He took his finger off of your nose finally. The detective folded his arms together, “Alright, you’re off the hook for now, but I’m a detective.”     The chef wasn’t convinced, “Oh yeah? Prove it”

    “Here ya go,” The detective unfolds his wallet and some pictures fell out of the wallet. “Those are my old partners. Don’t ask me about them.” Everyone stayed silent. “Fine!” He exclaimed, “I’ll tell you. Each one of them died. Each death more tragic than the last. A few of them even died in ironically hilarious ways. Which made it all the more tragic.” He looked up from his photos and stared you straight in the eyes, “But hey, you look like you’re up to the task. You’re my new partner.” You violently shake you head. The detective just laughed, “That’s what all my old partners used to say…” he looked back down at his newest photos, “Right before they died.” The detective looked up at you and had a sparkle in his eye, “Alright. Hand me that detective kit behind you, partner.” You turn around to grab the kit but was slightly confused to find nothing.     “Thanks, partner,” The detective says. He drops the bag that all the objects supposedly came from.     Damien walked into the room and saw the sheet covered body, “What the hell happened here?”     The Butler noticed the Mayors arrival, “Oh! Mr. Mayor. I’m so sorry. There’s been a murder.” A boom of thunder rattled around the house. “A murder?” More thunder shook the house. “Who?” He questioned.     “It’s Mark,” the Chef replied.     “I’m afraid he’s telling the truth,” The de te five told Damien. “Mark’s been killed.”     “Why?” Confusion crossed his features. “Who would do this?” He asked the detective.     “That’s exactly what me and my new partner,” The detective gestured to the both of you, “here are here to find out.”     “Um, excuse me.” The butler raised his voice a little. “I feel like we should call the authorities for them to handle this matter.” You thought was a smart idea and was about to agree when the detective interrupted you.     “Look, buddy. As far as you’re concerned, I am the authorities,”he looked around, “I believe the killer is right here amongst us in this very house. With that freaky lightning storm outside, none of us would get very far anyway.” Everybody took a moment to understand everything that he just said.

Chef spoke up, “I’ll get back to cooking. All this death made me hungry.” Everyone gave the chef an awkward side glance as he wandered back to the kitchen. “I…” Damian started, “I-I need to talk to the Colonel about this.” He backed out of the room in search of the Colonel.     “All right, partner,” The detective began, “It’s time to get to work. Judging by the temperature. I am sure Mark was killed around 1:30 am last night.” The detective turned to you, “So what were you doing at 1:30 am last night?” You get a small flashback of right before you went to sleep. You saw the image of when you were lying in bed with the clock flashing 1:30am.

    “It checks out. So, we need to figure out where everyone was and what they were doing around that time or, at the very least, who saw Mark last. You need to get out there. See if you can piece together the story of what happened last night. I’ll stay here and make sure nothing gets moved.”

    You decide to start with the Mayor and start in the direction that he walked to. You saw a door that was cracked open and decided to snoop. You hear Damien yelling, “How can you be so flippant?”     “Flippant?” A man, you assume the Colonel, says calmly, “I’m taking this matter very seriously!”     “Oh, don’t give me that bull! I know you hated him, but, god damn it, he reached out to you!”     “Oh, what do you want from me?”     “Well, I want you to care!”

    “Just because I’m not weeping like a child doesn’t mean that I don’t care.”

    “I can’t believe you. You come and find me when you pull your head out of your butt!” The door violently jerks open as Damien steps out of the room. “Excuse me.”     You enter the room and the Colonel speaks up, “Damien, I don’t-!” He turns in his chair and notices that it is you and not the Mayor, “Oh! Ah, good to see you again! You were quite the rapscallion at last night’s festivities. But you’re probably here to help the detective with his “investigation of murder”.” You nod your head as you feel the thunder shake the house yet again.     “Anyway, I’ll help you;I’ll tell you what happened to our dear friend Mark,” he says in a sarcastic tone.”Oh! Look at me! My name is Mark, now!” He begins to mock Mark as he recall what he remembers from last night. “Forget all my friends or the people who helped me along the way! Just look at my money! Oh, I need to pay people to be my friends! Ha-ha-ha! You like me? Too bad. Oopsie. Gotta go off to the little boys’ room. Who wants to join me? I’m gonna go there upon my stairs. My house has more than one staircase. Oh, look at me and how great I am! Oh no, I’m falling. Aah, I’m dead.” He ends his narration by throwing his arms to the ground. “And that’s what happened,” he paused, “Probably, anyway. Go now, I’ll be here when you’re done.     Since you were obviously finished there, you decided to head to the kitchen for some food. Skipping breakfast was taking a toll on you. “I thought I told you to stay out of my kitchen!” You jumped yet again as the chef snuck up behind you and threatened you. “Oh. You’re helping with his little investigation, huh? Let me tell you something.” He paused to catch his breath, “Last night, after I got rid of all of the evidence… Of that delicious meal I prepared, and wiped down all the fingerprints… From those filthy dishes, and sopped up all that blood, I retired to my room at 1:00 am, and left my little buddy in charge like I always do. He sees everything… Why don’t you ask him what happened last night?” The chef said as he took the garbage and left.     As it is the chef’s “little buddy” is a surveillance monitor. You checked the monitor and saw nothing out of the ordinary. So you decided that a clear mind would help and fresh air would help with a clear mind. You walked outside and saw the Mayor leaning against the railing. As you approached he looked up at you and spoke, “Look, I’m sorry you saw that argument with the Colonel,” he started. “I lost my temper, and it wasn’t right and… He must be in shock.” He paused for a moment as if he was thinking, “But he’s my friend, and… So was Mark. I’ve known Mark for years, since we were kids… And he’s just gone? I don’t have any answers right now. I just need to be alone… To process all of this. We’ll all talk soon.” Damien walked back into the house.

    You got a few moments outside to destress yourself before the detective came running out, “Partner! Get over here, now! Hurry up! You’re not gonna believe this, I can barely believe this. The body. It’s gone. It’s just disappeared. Look.” You look down but there was nothing but the police outline.

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[beesartandstuffs]

Who Killed Markiplier: Shot in the Dark-- Chapter 1, Part 5

(We’re chugging along, folks! Don’t forget to LIKE and REBLOG!)

SHOT IN THE DARK MASTERLIST (find the previous parts here!)

I leave the four in the parlor, mumbling something about needing to get dressed. Nobody stops me, but I suspect that has more to do with the look on my face than my reason for absence.

I stumble to my room. Kicking the door closed, I strip off the dressing gown that belongs to a dead man. Although it may not be the one he died in, I want it as far away from me as possible.

A fresh blouse, my trousers, my vest, and my tie go on. Slightly shaking hands smooth my hair down in front of the mirror. Part of me wonders why I'm bothering going through my normal routine when my friend is lying dead downstairs. 

But perhaps that's exactly why. Routine is what keeps us sane. A reminder of order in the world. A protection of sorts, from the worms of doubt eating away at the mind. A silver bullet to the demons of insanity.

Sanity is madness put to good uses. 

I shake my head at my reflection. Mark had never read more than theatrical literature, but George Santayana's poetry had piqued his interests. He was particularly fond of the man's philosophies about sanity, or lack thereof.

Now that I think of it, perhaps my ongoing concerns for Mark weren't unfounded.

As I move to close my suitcase, my thumb brushes a small bump on the inside lip.

I pause. Slowly, I press down and to the right.

A small compartment pops open, and the gleam of polished silver lays against the velvet. After some deliberation, I pocket the palm-sized revolver. If there's a killer on the loose, I want to be ready.

I close my suitcase and slide it back under the bed. Taking a breath to steady myself, I exit the room.

I run into the Colonel in the hall. "Ah, there you are!" he laughs. "You were quite the rapscallion at last night's festivities. I was rather impressed, I daresay. Now, what's all the hubbub about?" he asks, with a friendly twitch of his mustache. 

The look on my face must tell him enough, for his face falls slightly. "...Ah… nothing good, I understand?"

"Mark is dead," I say numbly.

His eye twitches. "... Impossible. I just saw him yesterday.”

"He was murdered." A clap of thunder shakes the house. "... It must've happened after we all went to bed. I'm helping Abe with the investigation."

The Colonel's lip curls subtly. "I see." My eyebrows raise, but he smiles suddenly and claps me on the shoulder. "Best you not keep him waiting, then! I'll be having a pipe in the theater lounge."

I must have gotten distracted, for he's gone in the next second.

Does he even care that his brother is dead?

When I return to the parlor, the body is covered in a white sheet and the area is blocked off with makeshift barricades. I step around them.

"There you are," the Detective says without looking up. He's scribbling on a legal pad, but I can't make out what he's writing. 

He hugs it to his chest when I try to see. We glare at each other for a moment.

"...Emma?"

We all turn to see Damien in the doorway. Shock is etched on his face, and he fumbles a bit before speaking again. "Emma, Detective, what… what happened here?"

The butler, having just finished cleaning up the mess I made by dropping my glass earlier, looks up quickly. "Oh, Mister Mayor. I'm so sorry, but… there's been a murder."

Lightning flashes outside. Damien is slack-jawed. "... Murder?" He jumps as thunder and lightning flash again. "...Who?"

The Chef, who's standing to the side, shrugs sadly. "It's Mark."

Damien stares agape at him. He then looks at me, then the Detective.

"I'm afraid he's telling the truth," Abe says with a sigh. "Mark's been… killed."

The Chef looks up expectantly, but the storm is strangely quiet. Damien shakes his head slowly. "...Why? Who would do this?"

"That's exactly what me and my new partner here are going to find out." Abe moves to put his hand on my shoulder but I step away. He awkwardly adjusts his hat instead. 

Damien's eyes meet mine. We have a silent conversation.

You're his new partner?

Temporarily.

This is insane. This… this can't be happening.

Damien…

"Um… excuse me." The butler clears his throat. "I feel like we should call the authorities for them to handle this matter."

Abe growls. "Look buddy, as far as you're concerned, I am the authorities." He whips out his badge again and the photos cascade down. He attempts to fold them back up, but fails, and so just stuffs his wallet in his pocket. "The fact of the matter is, I believe the killer is right here among us, in this very house. With that freaky lightning storm outside, none of us would get very far anyway."

Despite his claims, I've slowly crossed to the telephone and lifted it off the receiver. I hold it to my ear, but I hear nothing. "We wouldn't be able to call, even if we tried. The line is dead. Must have been the storm."

"See?" Abe says, crossing his arms triumphantly. "What did I tell you."

The butler blinks. "You told me that you were the—"

"In the meantime, we're stuck here. But Miss Bailey and I are gonna get to the bottom of this. The rest of you, stay on the grounds, make sure you're always in sight of somebody else… and pray to God you're not next to be murdered."

Thunder rattles the window. 

"I'll… I'll go check on the rooms," the butler mumbles. 

The Chef straightens his uniform. "I'll get back to cooking. All this death made me hungry!"

I stare after him mutely, having trouble processing what he just said.

Damien blinks, and swallows hard. He looks at me, then at the body, then shakes his head, slowly backing out of the room. "I… I need to talk to the Colonel about this."

I reach out, but he's gone before I can say a thing.

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[turquoisemagpie]

WKM: 20 Years Later.

3)

Abe and Lottie had walked and talked their way back into town, Abe doing most of the talking, explaining what got him into crime solving. Although he seemed too caught up in his own narration to really care Lottie was next to him, she kept a yard away from him on the sidewalk, still weary of whether to trust him or not. He seems agreeable now his gun wasn’t pointing at her, but something was nagging at the back of her head, telling her to get far away from him as soon as possible. Damien was constantly pulling Celine away from Lottie, telling her not to keep harassing her with too many thoughts. Celine was acting aggressively concerned, as if she trying to keep a small child from walking onto a busy road.  “He’s not to be trusted!” she shouted at Damien, “We heard his crazy mumblings, haven’t we? Every time he visited the house, always whispering to himself, swearing revenge on Will. He’s gone mad over the years. And if he finds out who Lottie is… I can’t let this happen. She can’t stay any longer with him!” Damien stopped her before she could touch the back of Lottie’s head again. “Stop it!” he pleaded, “I know you’re concerned for her safety, but you can’t just keep throwing thoughts into her head. She has her own mind, and we’ve seen she can fend for herself… She wants information and, unfortunately, he’s the only one who can give her what she needs to know.” Celine scowled. “She probably knows more than him, he’s such an arrogant idiot.” “Well, let her discover that for herself.” Damien suggested, “You can try to lead her in certain directions, when she’s lost, but no brainwashing her into doing what you want. It’s not fair. Ok?” “They all died, sadly.” Abe continued, flicking idly through the concertina of photographs in his wallet, “Each death more tragic than the last.” Lottie was baffled and a little fearful as she asked, “So, why didn’t you just stop getting partners sooner, if you knew they’d all end up dead?”  “I can’t solve all the crimes by myself.” Abe explained, “I gotta have a backup, someone to divulge with, and get all the possibilities out in the open, incase anything should happen to me.” He sighed sadly, “You right though. I shoulda realised that I had a curse in some way. And my last partner made me finally come to terms with that.” “Why? How did they die?” “They didn’t, that’s the odd thing. They just sort of disappeared. That seems to me the most tragic thing to happen to a partner.” He glanced at Lottie and saw her overly concerned expression. He chuckled and said, “Don’t worry. I’ve learnt my lesson. No more partners.”  Thank goodness, Lottie thought to herself. If he had suddenly turned around at that moment to asked her to be his next partner, she would have gladly jumped over a wall and ran far away.  “But yeah, that’s me.” Abe said with a shrug, “Now, what’s your story?”

Lottie sighed and began, “I’m trying to track down my parents. My mom had me until I was one, but she disappeared after… whatever happened on the night the Markiplier killing. So, I was put into an orphanage. It was fine at first, they raised me ok until I was 11, and then they moved me to a care home for older kids… I didn’t have such a good time there. And I was never adopted, sadly; I lived my whole life orphaned until I was old enough to leave and find my own living at 18.” She took another sigh, realising how depressing her life story actually was, now she was hearing it out loud. “It’s been hard to keep a job, or a place to stay, but I think I’ve found a stable living for now. So, while I’m in the local area, I decided to try and see what happened to my mom and dad.”  “Your mother was involved in the events at the manor?” Abe suddenly pressed, “How?” “She was the wife of Markiplier.” Abe suddenly stopped walking, Lottie stopped too and looked to him. His brow furrowed more as his blinked; he was clearly confused. “Wait.” He said, rubbing his eyes roughly, “You mean… Celine, the seer… had a kid with Mark? How the hell did I not know this! Me and Mark were friends for ye-.” “Oh no, I’m not Mark’s child.” Lottie interrupted, “Celine was… having an affair with Colonel William. I’m his daughter, not Mark’s.” Abe’s eyes widened slightly, then blinked his shock away, realising Lottie would notice it.  She continued, “I think that’s probably why my mother took me away from the house. I suspect that she never told Mark and was scared of the consequences if he found out. But why she never came back, I don’t know. There is the possibility that… she died, but that’s not a certain fact. So, I want to find her. Or at least find out what really happened to her.” “And… what about your father, the Colonel?” Abe pressed seemingly intrigued. She shrugged, “I don’t know. I suspect my mother took me to his place after she left Mark, but I’m not sure. I can’t find anything anywhere that tells me if they even lived together.” “Maybe he had other relatives he lived with.” Abe suggested, “Do you know if there is anyone else related to the Colonel? Anyone who could help you find where he is?”  Lottie felt a small cold feeling crawl up her spine as Abe looked at her keenly. She only now realised how he kept one hand through his coat to press against his gut, like Napoléon Bonaparte. He must have an old wound, she thought, but why is he fascinated in the Colonel? Did the Colonel do something to him?  “I’m not sure.” Lottie said cautiously, “I don’t really much care for him. So, I didn’t do as much research on him as I did for my mother.” That was a lie. She had done just as much, if not more, studying for him. It was easier to list his achievements, that was for sure; she managed to find his military records, and all his expeditions into the unknown seemed worthy enough to be printed in the headlines of the local newspapers of his time. But Abe seemed suspicious now. She had to be careful what she said. Abe sighed in disappointment; he thought he was nearly onto something. “Ah well,” he huffed, “sorry if I don’t have anything new that helps you find them. But I have to say, you seem like you’re on the right path to finding something big. Maybe, working together, we could find more clues as to their whereabouts.” Lottie stopped again and crossed her arms. “I thought you said, ‘no more partners’!” she said with a raised eyebrow.  Abe shook his hands at her. “Oh, no no no.” he corrected himself, “No more partners, you’re right. I mean I could be your partner!” Lottie’s eyes widened. “You? You be my partner?” “Yeah.” Abe said with a goofy smile, “I mean, I’m a qualified detective. And I have connections. Connections to people who can help the both of us. I’ll.. have to do some seeking out though, to try and find them, but once I find them, you can ask them if they have anything that could help you.” “Why do you want to help me so bad?”  Abe paused for a hesitant moment. “Erm… because I want you to find your parents. Your story is really sad, yet encouraging… You know? After all you’ve gone through and yet you still have the determination to find the answers. I wanna back you to the hills!” Wow, Lottie thought, was my story really that sad? For someone like him, someone who’s lost nearly every person he’s worked with to a horrific tragedy, to say that she was the one to be pitied… it felt sadder in a way. But oh well, one man’s walk in the park is another man’s bridge of death.  Suddenly Abe thrusted a small card into Lottie’s hand. It was a business card with his name and a phone number printed on, to which the phone number was scribbled out with a pen and new one was written above it. “Call me tomorrow.” He said eagerly and he started quickening his pace away from Lottie.  “Wait.” she called out in confusion, “Where are you going?” “Back to my office.” He called back, still striding away, “I’m going to try and track down the people who I think can help us. Call me tomorrow and I’ll tell you if I have anything! See you soon!” And he disappeared around the corner at the bottom of the hill, into town.  Lottie stood still for a moment, slightly baffled by what just happened. She stared at the card he gave her, at the number written down. 

She ended up staring at the card again the next day, as she was writing down all the events of what happened in her book. Looking back at everything, Lottie grew more and more excited. Soon she’d get some answers. This was all turning out to be a lot easier than she imagined. A little too easy.  She headed out of her flat to the landlady’s office downstairs, asking if she could use the phone. Once she got to the phone she dialed the number on Abe’s card. The first dial tone hadn’t even finished before there was an instantly answer.  “Hello?” Abe’s answered quickly. “Hi. It’s Lottie.” “Great! I’ve been waiting for you to call all morning. I managed to find someone who can help us. Someone who’s still in the area too, which is lucky.” Lottie was happily surprised. “Wow. Great! Who is it?” “An old employee of the manor, who was there on the night of the killing. I’ve met him before. Bit of an intimidating thug, but he wasn’t the murderer, which is a good thing.” “Yeah. Great(!)” Lottie said with a sarcastic tone, “Where abouts is he.” “He’s the head chef of a restaurant at the southern end of town, west just before the highway. If we head there now, it’ll still be open. We can question him there.” “West of the highway?”  “Yeah… Why? Is that an issue?” Lottie bit her lip. “…No. It’s fine. It’s just… never mind.” “Yeah, I know. The place is a little rough. Just stick with me, you’ll be fine. I’ll meet you at the southern center of town in an hour. Is that ok with you?”  Lottie hesitated, but finally agreed and hung up. She headed back to her room. She took her time getting the things she needed, but she lingered every now and then, thinking worryingly to herself. She knew the southern end of town was rough, she had spent all her life there; that’s why she was scared of it. The orphanage was there. All the people she had grown up with were there. Probably some of the younger meaner kids were still there. The careless yet strict staff were there. He was there…  But Abe would be there too. And he was armed; he could take care of anything. And it’s not like any of the staff would care enough to try and meet her again. It’ll be fine. And all the other kids had moved on too; they were probably in some other part of the country by now. It’d be fine. Just breathe. It’ll be fine. Breathe. Just breathe. It’ll be fine. It’ll be fine.

“Lottie?” Abe’s voice made her jump. “You ok?” he asked calmly. They were standing outside a rather rundown looking restaurant; it looked more like a converted warehouse than a restaurant. “Do you not want to go in?” Lottie shook her head and took a deep breath. “No, I’m ok. I’m fine. I just… need to catch my breath.” Abe’s brow furrowed. “You got asthma, or…?” “No. Anxiety.” Lottie told him, “I need to calm down sometimes. Things get easily overwhelming for me.”   “Oh. Ok. We can wait if you want.” Lottie shook her head. “No, I’m fine now. Let’s go.” She walked ahead of the detective and opened the door about an inch, before suddenly it opened itself. “Bonjour!” A very tall, stern-faced man in a suddenly slipped out from behind the door. He wore a spotless waiter’s uniform, even a pair of equally spotless white gloves. “Welcome. It’s still a bit early for the dinner menu to start, but I can serve you drinks while you wait. How many of you are eating tonight?” “Erm… We’re not eating sorry.” Lottie nervously told him. “Oh?” he hummed in a pertly attitude, until he saw Abe standing behind her, to which his expression, as stone-faced as it may have been, dropped to a scowl. “Oh.” “Well, isn’t this a turn up for the books!” Abe announced, stepping past Lottie to look angry face to angry face at the waiter. “Fancy you working with the same guy all over again. I thought you and the chef both hated each other. Or is this like a love-hate relationship or something.” “It’s bad luck, in my opinion.” the waiter replied in a deep stern voice, “It’s not like either of us wanted to be here.” “Wait.” Lottie interrupted, “You know each other?” “Know each other?” Abe pointed at the waiter and said, “This stuck-up bastard was the butler back at the manor, Benjamin! One of three employees who worked there for over 10 years,” he squinted angrily at the waiter, “and one of the suspects of Markiplier’s death.” Lottie gasped in delight. “So… you were at the murd-“ Abe and Benjamin shushed her up hastily. “Don’t say that word, please.” Benjamin said quietly, “anything, but that word.” Sighing agitatedly, Abe said, “Never mind this pointless talk. Where’s the chef?” “He’s in the kitchen, but I wouldn’t interrupt him. He gets… restive before the dinner rush.” “I don’t care what kind of vegetable he’s getting! We need answers now.” Abe headed towards the kitchen, the waiter following him to try and stop him.  Lottie caught up to Benjamin and asked, “Were you really there at Markiplier’s death?” “Unfortunately, so.” “Then, would you mind sticking around and answering a few questions too?” Lottie asked politely. “I wouldn’t bother with him.” Abe interrupted before the waiter could answer, “He’s about as useful as a candle without a wick!” Abe reached the beaded curtains that covered the doorway into the kitchen. As he entered, Benjamin turned away, wincing, like he was bracing for an explosion. Lottie paid no mind and walked in after the detective. “No!” Benjamin yelled as she walked through, “He’s not-!” “STAY OUT OF MY KITCHEN!!” Damien pushed Lottie to a side. Lottie stumbled, just as a knife flew past her shoulder and stuck into the wood of the doorway. 

[bitten1ce]

Dark’s addiction

Another story from the RP server, this time featuring an angsty turn of events. Quick backstory: Darkiplier has gotten addicted to a substance from the chaos realm, which has since been removed from his immediate access.

Triggers: substance addiction & withdrawal, descriptions of pain

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Darkiplier hurried through the night, hidden in the blackness. He was disguised in a casual outfit and confident that anyone who saw him wouldn’t recognize him as the respected and sometimes feared mayor of the town. The gnawing was coming back, he could feel it. Soon it would be a thousand knives plunging into him, and then a fire in his muscles, his veins, his bones, and then…..’and then you would give in again.’

No. No, that wouldn’t happen, he wouldn’t let it happen.

‘You can’t fight it. Not alone.’

The damned entity again. It was always looking for a chance to get back in the driver’s seat, always hungering for more power, more control, more pawns. It had an addiction of its own, and Dark wasn’t sure which one was worse.

‘Better the demon you know…’ it let the sentence trail off.

“Than the one I don’t. But do I really know you?” He’d been living with the Nothing for decades now, he should know it, but that didn’t mean he did. Who knew how long the Nothing had ‘lived’ before Markiplier or his friends had set foot in the manor?

‘Perhaps not. But I know you, Darkiplier. Remember, I am you. You owe your life to me. All of you owe me your continued existence.’

That was true; it had kept them from dying that night. But at what price? And was it a price they were supposed to continue paying forever?

‘You pledged yourselves to me, both of you. And you, ‘Darkiplier,’ would have no existence if not for me,’ it sneered.

Dark groaned, the gnawing distracting him from his thoughts.

‘Oh no, you don’t get to ignore me so easily,’ the Nothing spoke in a ringing tone that drove away the pain. ‘You are mine, Darkiplier, and I will remind you why.’

“I’m sorry. I just need answers to all this. I already lost one friend today; I don’t want to lose another.” That was….Damien’s voice?

“Fine, but...I need to stay here.” Celine. Of course. It was reminding him of that night.

They walked into the room the Seer had claimed as her own. She was obviously in charge here, despite the mayor’s badge the man wore.

“Have a seat,” she ordered and the man sat obediently.

“What were you doing in here with Y/N, Celine?” he asked curiously.

“Quiet. I need to concentrate on Mark. There are dark forces surrounding this manor, and I fear he may be caught up in them.”

Damien sat quietly, fidgeting slightly. Across from him, Celine stared into a clear globe on the table between them.

‘You’ve come to me at last,’ a voice whispered to her. It had been waiting a long time for this moment.

“Mark, is that you?” she responded, her spirit drifting closer to its realm, its portion of the void, within the house.

‘I’m here, but you have to let me in,’ it reached out to her, trying to pull her into its void for a true conversation. The connection snapped, and Celine’s spirit sprang back into her body when Damien spoke.

“Celine, who are you talking to?”

“Be quiet!” she snapped. “I almost had a connection with him.”

Celine took a deep breath and threw herself toward the voice, her spirit slipping from her and into the void. The Nothing wrapped itself around her eagerly, feeling her strength glowing in the void like the sun itself.

‘Mark, is that you?’ Even her mental voice rang through the void with force.

‘Mark isn’t here,’ it answered. ‘He left as soon as you arrived.’

It showed her the house, and they watched as Damien’s body gave a large jerk and slid from the chair. It rolled and writhed on the floor, mouth open in a grimace of agony. They saw Damien’s spirit battered and bruised, then shoved into the void with them as Mark took the body. He stood and walked behind Celine’s body and grabbed her by the throat. They continued to watch, Damien and Celine horrified as Mark, using Damien’s body, finished strangling Celine and left the room without a backwards glance.

As Celine’s body crumpled, the Nothing flooded in, dragging her spirit along. It would need her help in order to keep her body alive. It settled in comfortably, pulling Celine and the tattered remnants of Damien’s spirit around it like a cloak.

It reached for Celine’s abilities and ‘pushed’ at the manor’s confines. There was a flash of lightning and a crack of thunder. Light spilled from the windows and it felt its new face smile in satisfaction. It had made a wonderful choice in this vessel. So much power, and twin souls with additional abilities to sweeten the deal.

Celine’s body laughed. Mark had no idea what he’d given up in that house. At the thought, they felt their eyes narrow in anger. The Nothing paused to think. Had it done that?

‘No,’ replied Celine’s spirit. ‘I did. He really did this to me?’

“You saw it happen. I didn’t make him do that; I don’t make anyone do anything,” it replied.

Their face twisted in a snarl of anger. ‘I’ll kill him!’

Oh, her rage was delightful, sending a pulse of energy through the house and destroying the barrier holding them here.

There was a commotion in the hall as they opened the door. The groundskeeper filled the hallway, blocking their escape. They tried to force their way past, but the man was physically stronger and immune to their influence. He pushed them back into the room and locked the door.

They shoved with everything they had, trying to force the groundskeeper to let them out, to no avail.They heard voices in the hall arguing and reached for them. The groundskeeper was a waste of effort, but maybe one of the others would hear them and respond. The detective had a decent amount of instability, and so did the colonel. The district attorney….could prove useful. They had no use for the others and pushed them to leave quickly.

They moved away from the door, glancing down when their steps became unsteady. Their body was disintegrating and one of their feet had come off at the ankle. They’d used too much energy and the body couldn’t handle the strain. Staying in it would require energy they couldn’t waste. Nothing mattered now but getting out of here.

They quickly abandoned the body, letting it thump to the floor. Celine felt a pang of regret, but quickly pushed it away. Nothing mattered now except escape from this manor….and revenge against Mark. She would take great satisfaction at tearing him limb from - she stopped.

‘Damien,’ Celine said. ‘He stole your body.’ She was horrified at what Mark had done to both of them.

‘I know,’ he responded bitterly.

‘We’ll make him pay. We’ll get out of here somehow, and we’ll make him pay for this,’ she seethed.

‘Follow me,’ the Nothing spoke up. ‘I may be able to help.’

They made their way through the upside down, reaching out to snag Y/N and lead them to the appropriate room. No one but the Detective had been able to find this place; Mark had wanted a secret room for him to work and the Nothing had provided one. They watched as Y/N stumbled around and the colonel found them.

‘William,’ Celine reached out, her hand passing through the man’s shoulder.

‘Old friend, what have you done?’ Damien was aghast at the evidence before them.

‘Nothing he wasn’t driven to by Mark’s jealousy and plotting. The things here are misleading,’ the Nothing brought their attention to a newspaper article with a photograph that looked suspiciously like William. It pointed to a date, and they could see it was before any of them had been born.

‘Why would the detective do this? Unless,’ Celine stared at the Nothing.

‘Unless he was hired to. Yes,’ it answered.

‘But why would Mark do that?’ Damien watched in horror as William interrupted Y/N.

All three of them followed him through the house as he rampaged in search of the detective. They stared as the two argued, the detective was shot, Y/N and William struggled for the gun, and Y/N fell.

The Nothing reached out and grabbed Y/N’s spirit, pulling them into the void as William’s words hung in the air, ‘It was an accident, I swear,’ ringing through the house.

‘We can use this; all of us can share that body. We just have to be more careful with our use of power until it can withstand it,’ the Nothing spoke quickly as Y/N gradually adjusted to their surroundings. ‘They know you, go speak to them.’

The Nothing watched as they convinced Y/N to let -it- them in. They had learned their lesson and moved slowly into the body, allowing their power to trickle through it gradually. Damien’s small bit of healing was useful for repairing the worst of the damage, and the Nothing was able to pull on Y/N’s charisma to convince the body to accept them.

As they worked, the Nothing laid out its -trap- bargain very carefully.

‘I can give you the revenge you want so strongly, but there’s a price,’ it began.

‘There always is,’ remarked Damien.

‘Hush, let’s at least hear what it is,’ Celine retorted.

‘It will take all of us working together to accomplish the task. With the mayor’s appearance and influence, Markiplier can quite easily ensure that your friend, William, is sent to jail for a very long time for “his murder.” In addition, he can throw suspicion upon the district attorney and their presence at the manor during the events.’

Damien and Celine were silent for a moment, processing this. The Nothing waited patiently, continuing to usher their energies to the appropriate places.

‘Very well,’ Celine began.

‘What do we have to do?’ Damien finished.

Y/N looked apprehensive. This sounded like a trap.

The Nothing smiled warmly -coldly- at them all and told them its plan. The process took hours, but when it was finally done, they had a decently solid body around them.

They stood, and Celine and Damien watched in horror as the love of their lives went mad at seeing Y/N’s body come back to life before his eyes. He’d taken his coat off and sat cradling Damien’s cane. The Nothing idly wondered if he’d sat there all night.

“It was all a joke! I didn’t kill anyone!” They watched him stumble away, calling for the friends he couldn’t see in front of him.

They picked up Damien’s cane from where William had left it and stared at it for a moment; the last tie to a man who only wanted to protect his friends and family. They looked up at the mirror in front of them and all they could see was Damien’s stolen body; the one that Markiplier had used to kill Damien’s own sister, and the one they had molded Y/N’s body to resemble. They felt Y/N stir in unease at the thirst for revenge coursing through them. The three stared into the mirror and adjusted their broken neck, shoving Y/N out and into the portion of the void that the Nothing had recently vacated. There was no room for second-guessing here.

‘And?’ the Nothing asked.

‘We agree to the plan,’  Celine spoke for both of them.

The Nothing smiled in triumph and went to work. It had already chosen the pieces of their souls that suited its purposes best and it wasted no time in ripping them to shreds and stitching them together with thread of it’s own power. Celine’s temper, her ability to manipulate people, Damien’s charisma, his slow burning anger, and most of all, their hunger for more: more power, more experiences, more.

It took no more than an instant, and when it was done, Darkiplier studied himself in the mirror. He saw someone hovering next to him, pity on their face, and his own expression twisted in loathing and contempt. He turned and left the figure there. He had work to do.

“So I owe you my life, and now you want….what? What is it you want? We gave up our quest for revenge a long time ago, what is it you’re after now?” Dark genuinely didn’t know. Even after all this time, the Nothing was able to hide its intent from them.

‘If you must know, I am seeking power. You were most helpful in obtaining some from the Author, but you’ve been rather...distracted lately. What is it you are after?’

Dark shook his head. There was no way he was answering that, but the Nothing plucked it from his mind easily in his current state.

‘This again? I thought you had given up on that dream longer ago than your quest for vengeance,’ its voice sneered.

“It could happen,” Dark muttered.

‘Not now. Not after what happened earlier. He’s terrified of you now, and you know it, don’t you? This addiction is ruining everything you’ve worked to build. I can help, you just have to let me in again.’

“No. I’ll deal with it myself,” Dark insisted.

‘Will you? Have at it, then.’ The ringing from his aura stopped, and all the sensations it had been holding back flooded into him.

Dark slowly collapsed to his knees. He was on fire, burning from his bones to his skin. There was a gnawing in his stomach like thousands of the sharpest fangs were eating him from the inside out. His head swam, and he could no longer see clearly. The light from his aura faded as he lost the ability to control it, and blackness surrounded him.

“No, please no! -Don’t leave me in the void- I can’t...please, not the darkness again!” Dark cried in terror.

‘You know what you have to do,’ the Nothing’s voice was the essence of cold.

“N-no,” Dark wasn’t going to give in quite that easily.

‘I can make all this stop, I can take away that fear, that pain, all of it. Just let me in again,’ its voice was insidious, but it was pushing back the pain.

“I can’t...I can’t leave them -him-”

‘Then stay here, and let it consume you.’

Dark reached for Damien and Celine, trying to bring back their light. His head pounded and throbbed, making it impossible for him to move within it to find them. He felt the blackness all around him and shuddered in terror. The entity silently held out its hand, hazed with a dimly glowing light.

Dark sighed in defeat and took it. The numbness felt wonderful at first, flooding through his body and staving off the pain, and then it felt like the icy prison it really was. He dimly felt his body going through all the stages of withdrawal, and it was writhing on the ground as if it hurt, but he felt….nothing. He was nothing, useless, unneeded, and he retreated into a corner of their mind. As the Nothing spread through them, nearly all the light was extinguished, until Celine and Damien came to sit with him. They all watched, powerless to do anything, as Darkiplier made his way back to Ego Alley.

[fnaflover124]

Reunited

Soooo uhhh….I can’t stop thinking about Who Killed Markiplier and this idea popped into my head Sooooooo take my not necessarily shipping but if you want it to be shipping go for it fanfic. All characters are @markiplier ’s. Some headcannons on what happened after dark walked away from the mirror from @turquoisemagpie . Take this @splossom . Takes place after Markiplier TV and before ADWM

It was a normal day at Ego hq. Mostly everyone was outside, but a few people were inside working. Wilford was sitting at his desk, thinking of new show ideas, when he heard his good friend Bim Trimmer. “Hey Warf, I think there might be someone new outside, Everyone is picking up the commotion, maybe we can add them to our show” Wil smiled up" Perfect,“ he said, mustache shaking,” everyone else is taking forever to come back" he stood up from his desk and went outside. Bim wasn’t kidding when he said there was a commotion outside, Google seemed to be choking someone and Dr. Iplier counted down the seconds until the newcomer passed out. “Goooogle, you know me and Dark get first dibs on anyone new, drop ‘em.” Google muttered something before dropping the person and moving out of the way. The woman looked up and Wilford froze. “……Celine?”

Dark was walking through the halls looking for some insignificant Ego so he could get out some anger. Everyone seemed to be hidden though. Dark started to talk between himself silently. “It’s been 3 years and we STILL haven’t found him” “Be patient Damien, Mark is trying to throw us off his trail, we need to wait” “I’m sick of waiting Celine! I want my own damn body back! I want things back to normal. I want Mark to pay…” “Well if you just show up then he’ll run. We need to strike when he’s most vulnerable, and the first time he reveals his name to the public, he’s going to be extremely watchful. We’ll finish this Damien, I swear” Dark huffed as he continued walking. “DAMIAN” He heard the call of The Colonel. “Dammit” he muttered, Wilford was having an episode. He needed to make sure none of the egos saw. He hurried towards the voice and found him easily, but when he saw Wilford, helping a coughing, hurt Celine, his shell broke. “…H-how?” Celine said silently, staring at her body. “Damien! I found you!” Wilford said, a huge grin on his face, “Celine finally came out for our hide and seek game!!!” He was so happy, it crushed Dark’s heart, seeing his old friend. “I see” Dark replied,“would you mind if I talked to our old friend, alone for a moment?” Wilford stopped, “but the last time you two were alone together….” Wilford was so close to breaking out, remembering it all, he taken some measures to stop him from remembering the situation, keeping him that bit more sane. “Wilford. Why don’t you go see if the Jims are doing anything new?” Dark said calmly, reinforcing the barrier of what happened. “…okay… be careful Celine” he gave Celine to Dark and walked off, Dark teleported the two of them to his office, The fake Celine sitting across from them. “Who are you? Why are you here?"Dark practically shouted. Celine was mad, why was her body being used by some random person. The Other Celine flinched, a small yellow echo visible for only a second, but Dark almost instantly recognized it. "Y/n? Is that you?” He spoke softly. Damien had missed his old colleague, the quiet girl he went to college with, becoming his right hand, the district attorney. Celine nodded"I…..I couldn’t stay there….it…it hurt so much…p-please, just let me stay…I don’t like how this feels. I want to be back in my own body, y-you can still be there just…please" She pleaded, her shell breaking multiple times, the yellow echo shaking besides Celine’s body. Damien stared at what had once been a bright shining girl. A bit nervous at first but a helluva riot when she was comfortable. He couldn’t deny her pleas. She had been killed on accident. The Colonel having shot her with no intention of doing so. He threw her out, for no reason. She had done so much to try and get her body back.“…….okay…I could never say no to you…”

As the two stood in front of the mansion,A cold wind passed by. Dark did not move while Celine’s body shivered . Dark hadn’t been here in a while…3 years that he’d been hunting…3 years she’d been trapped here…they walked inside and the waft of rotten corpse made Celine’s body gag. One of the bodies must have been hidden… probably Mark’s. After a moment he looked to her, “are you ready?” She nodded. And after the proper precautions they were in the void. Damien and Celine stood next to each other and looked at Y/n. She looked different, she looked smaller, weaker. The bright yellow aura that surrounded her last time had grown dim and ugly,her hair was a mess, her eyes had dark circles around them, but she still had a small smile, “long time. No see, huh Dami?” She chuckled weakly. Damien nodded, “it has been, old friend.” “I’m sorry I did that to you,” Celine said causing both of the others to look at her, “We weren’t sure how you would react to our plan. I’m sorry…” She looked away. Y/n smiled at her, “It’s ok… you were scared… we’re fixing it now.” That was always like her, rolling with the punches, saying it was ok. “But it’s not ok,” Damien said, “We left you here, just sitting with no way of escape. We’re no better than Mark… We could have done something but instead we locked you away to never move again… don’t blame Celine for this… I was the one who wanted you thrown out… I just made her do it.” He looked shameful and he knew it. He looked at the ground, the dark abyss staring back. As his guilt filled him he felt arms wrap around him. “Damien” y/n said, “Don’t blame yourself…you always got careless when you were mad, you didn’t realize what would happen. I know that you wouldn’t have done it if you knew.” She pushes his chin up gently and smiles at him. He always loved her smile. It made him feel like everything was okay. “Let’s get this done with. So you can go back to your body” he smiled back.

As Dark stood up Celine was just starting to wake, Dark glanced at the mirror and felt a chill run down his spine, “It’s ok,” he told her silently. His posture grew more relaxed as they waited for Celine. The echos of her left a red outline around Dark. She looked around. Almost in disbelief. “How are you feeling Celine?” He said, tilting his head slightly, a habit that Y/n added to the amalgamated body. “…better…i can’t believe I’m back” she said, looking at her hands. She stood up, “Shall we head back?” She asked. Dark nodded and teleported the two back to his office.

Dark had The Narrator get Wilford, so he could say hello to Celine. She sat, tapping her foot slightly, she was excited. Meanwhile Dark was speaking to himself. “Sooooooo, Wilford?” “Yes, we needed to change our identitys so the police couldn’t find us, so we merged his first and last name” “and what about his Mustache? And his glasses” “His idea, he went out and dyed my bow tie and his mustache to match. He seemed very happy about it” “That’s good.” Part of him paused, saying quietly to himself, “Does he remember what happened….or me?” “No…I couldn’t let him…it only make his insanity even worse… I’m sorry” “Don’t apologize. I wasn’t really one to remember.” “Yes you are. You are absolutely worth remembering, don’t put yourself down like that” “okay….”. As their conversation slowed to a halt Wilford walked in “Celine!” He hugs her, “I missed you!” She hugged him back, “I missed you too Wil”. The heartfelt reunion between the two was warming, and Dark watched with an aching heart. They’d never get that fate. They were stuck like this. The only thing fueling their body was empty hope, and revenge. “Well then old friend… Let’s get our sweet, sweet revenge.” A small malicious smile grew on his face, as plans stared to hatch in the friend’s minds

[written-stone]

Who killed Markiplier

(Chapter 1 part 3)

"Alright, hand me my finger printing kit there behind you, partner," Laith begrudging looked behind him for the kit, but it wasn't visible. He turned around to tell the detective he couldn't find it, but discovered that not only did the detective already had it, he was in his full gear, with yellow and black tape cutting off the area where the body lay, now with a sheet over it. "Thanks parenter!" The detective nodded. Laith just stared at the scene in front of him, in confusion. He knew for fact that the detective was not in full gear, nor was there police tape or a white sheet any where near them. Then again, maybe he was just loosing it. Shaking his head softly, Laith slipped under the tape and as the detective lifted up the sheet, Damien strode into the room.

"What the hell happened here?" He asked, clearing trying to process what he was looking at. 

"Mr. Mayor, I-I'm sorry. There's been a murder.” Another lightning strike as the butler delivered the tragic news.

"A murder?" Damien asked, confused. Lightning lit the room, clearly confusing him further. "Who?"

“It’s Mark.” The chef shrugged.

”I’m afraid he’s telling the truth. Mark’s been killed,” The Detective confirmed, looking up from his crouching position. Laith didn’t have to look to hear the sadness and confusion in Damien’s voice. 

”Why? Who would do this?”

”That’s exactly what me and my new partner here are here to find out.” The detective, gestured over to Laith, making him look up and lock eyes with Damien. Dark grey, anxiety filled eyes on sad, confused brown eyes. Laith gave him a small shaky smile.

”Um, excuse me. I feel like we should call the authorities for them to handle this matter.” Interjected the butler. Laith sighed as the detective shot to his feet, badge in toll, as he got ready to defend himself.

”Look, buddy. As far as you’re concerned, I am the authorities.” The detective sassed, while folding the pictures back into his badge holder. “The fact of the matter is, I believe the killer is right here amongst us in this very house. With that freaky lightning storm outside, none of us would get very far anyway. So, in the meantime, we’re stuck here. But I’m gonna get to the bottom of this. The rest of you, get back to your rooms, hunker down, and pray to God you’re not next to be murdered.” Lightning strike.

”I’ll… I’ll check on our guests.” He was clearly either intimidated by the detective, or shaken up by the murder. Laith was leaning more towards the murder. He found the detective as intimidating as someone threatening you with a pillow. The chef left as well, muttering something about all this death making him hungry. Laith turned back to Damien, Who looked like he was going to be sick.

”I… I-I need to talk to the Colonel about this.” And he too walked out.

“All right, partner. It’s time to get to work,” The detective grabbed Laith’s attention, away from Damien’s retreating form. “Judging by the temperature I measured rectally, which is obviously the most accurate way to get the inner body temperature of a corpse: that’s a fact, totally procedure. Don’t tell anyone I did it,” Laith gave him a look that was mixture of ‘wft’ and ‘don’t worry’. “I am sure Mark was killed around 1:30 am last night” Really? You got all that from his shit cave. “So,” He stood up pointing his finger in Laith’s face. Laith rolled his eyes. “What were you doing at 1:30 am last night?”

“I fell asleep, while supporting a bloody nose. No thanks to you,” Laith snapped, glaring at the detective. 

“Sorry about that,” The detective gave him a sheepish look, lowing his finger. “So, we need to figure out where everyone was and what they were doing around that time or, at the very least, who saw Mark last. You need to get out there. See if you can piece together the story of what happened last night. I’ll stick around with the body and run more… tests.” The detective sniffed his fingers, creeping Laith out. Nevertheless, Laith ducked under the yellow tape. 

He was unsure of where to start. He could find the butler, Benjamin as learned was his name, but he seemed shaken up enough as it is. The chef seemed like a viable suspect, but Laith was genuinely afraid he would kill him with his ladle if he tried to speak to him. Which only left the Colonel, and dare he say it, Damien. Laith wasn’t to sure about Damien being a suspect, since he once saved a baby bird from being eaten by a cat, and let a fly out a window, before Mark could kill it. The Colonel seemed like an alright guy, but Laith didn’t know him as much as Damien and Mark did, so he wanted to ask him some questions. Problem was, Laith hadn’t seen all day and he didn’t know he way around the manor as much as the Colonel did. “Where the hell could he be?” Suddenly, Laith heard muffled yelling coming from a nearby room and followed the noise. He found a small opening that lead to another room. He could clearly see an upset and annoyed Damien. He leaned closer, hoping to hear more. 

“How can you be so flippant?!” Damien cried. Laith could hear the muffled replies of the Colonel

”Flippant? I’m taking this matter very-!” 

“Oh, don’t give me that horseshit!” Damien snapped, cutting him off. “I know you hated him, but, god damn it, he reached out to you!” 

”Oh, what do you want from me?” The Colonel groaned. He seemed bored, or tired, by this whole ordeal.

”I WANT YOU TO CARE!”

”Just because I’m not weeping like a child doesn’t mean that I don’t care!” That seemed to hit Damien hard. Laith could almost see his stance as it changed from attacking, to defensive. 

”I can’t believe you,” He sounded so hurt. Laith couldn’t blame him, his friend was dead and his other friend didn’t care. “ You come and find me when you pull your head out of your ass!” Damien stormed out, giving Laith a glare as he shoved passed him, bumping shoulders. “Excuse me.” Laith felt almost like someone stabbed him the heart as Damien stalked down the hall, tears started to well up his eyes, but he quickly wiped them away. He had a job to do and no anxiety attack was going to stop him. Taking a deep breath, Laith pushed open the door and entered the room to find the Colonel slump in his chair.

”Damien, I don’t-!” The Colonel stopped himself when he saw it was Laith. “Oh! Ah, good to see you again! You were quite the rapscallion at last night’s festivities. But you’re probably here to help the detective with his “investigation of murder”, He said “investigation of murder” in a mocking tone, using quotation fingers and jumped when another lightning bolt rang through the sky. ”Anyway, I’ll help you; I’ll tell you what happened to our dear friend Mark.” 

The Colonel starts mocking Mark. ”Oh! Look at me! My name is Markiplier, now! Forget all my friends or the people who helped me along the way! Just look at my money! Oh, I need to pay people to be my friends! Ha-ha-ha! You like me? Too bad. Oh, glug-glug! Oopsie poopsie. I can’t hold my booze. Gotta go off to the little boys’ room. Who wants to join me?” Laith wasn’t sure if he was going to punch the Colonel or not yet. “I’m gonna go there upon my stairs. My house has more than one staircase. Oh, look at me and how great I am! Oh no, I’m falling. Aah, I’m dead.”” The Colonel finished with a dramatic hand motion. “And that’s what happened. Probably, anyway.” Laith hummed in response. It didn’t really help in any way, it showed how bitter the Colonel was to Mark for reason. The Colonel could probably see the gears turn in Laith head, sassily saying, “So, if you need to corroborate this story with anybody else just be on your way and investigate the entire house. Go now, I’ll be here when you’re done.” 

Laith headed for the door and came face to face with the butler. “Come with me, I need to show you something,” Laith walked along side the butler. “Now, if you’re looking for answers, there’s really no mystery at all. There’s not a single detail of this house that I’m not privy to, and not a single guest that I have not personally vetted,” Laith was slightly creeped out by that. “Now I warn you: what you are about to see is not for the faint of heart. A domain of evil this is. But in we must go,” They walked through the kitchen and stopped at a staircase that lead into what he assumed was a basement.The butler seemed nervous as he opened the gate, “You first,” Laith stared down the steps, muttering a small ‘nope’. Right, creepy ass basement and a creepy as butler... great 

Laith slowly headed down the steps and saw that it was only a wine seller. He walked further in, only for his foot to hit something. He looked down to see a broken glass on the floor. He took a step back as the butler ran passed him, dust pan and brush in hand. ”Avert your eyes!” He cried. “I’m so sorry you had to see this! Master would be so displeased! If only he were still alive!” The butler sobbed. Laith slowly backed away and headed upstairs, the butlers cries slowly faded.

@the-asexual-reaper @pleaseletthisjimbetaken @xdamienplier

[randomnessnesity]

Who killed Markiplier: After the stream

Alright, its 8am. I’m drunk on red bull and babies I’m gonna rant about WKM because why not right? I know I’m like two weeks late but you know what....whatever...

After the live stream Saturday I feel like I needed to get this off my brain.

I believe that William (The Colonel), was a father/father figure to the gang. With the way he acts and his manor-isms saying 'Bully' and what have you, he's much older than the others around the Manor. (I only thought of this because even the butler doesn't understand when he says 'ol bag of bone." by saying "weren't you and Mark the same age?")

Damien (The Mayor), was Markiplier's best friend growing up. Celine (The Seer), was very protective/dismissive of Damion. For Abe (The Detective): Mark trusted him, 100%. He was the only person who knew how to get the job done and in a reasonable amount of time. Mark would know if something was to happen to him Abe would be the first person to try and figure out what had happened. Mark knew that Benjamin (The Butler) and the Chef would obviously be upset however they wouldn't worry about finding out who killed him. They're only here because it's their job. They could/will go find a new one. Markiplier's turn: Mark started to notice something was up with the house. In my head the senerio for the first time he noticed something was different was when he was in the kitchen cutting something for him and his new bride to eat after the Chef went to bed for the night and he dropped the knife and it stabbed through his foot, (1 of 37), and sticking through the floor; but when he looked down to examine the wound there was no blood. Even when he pulled out the knife and looked at the now open wound on his foot, there was no pain and no blood. That's the beginning of Mark trying to test his limits seeing what he could do to himself before something would happen. Mark tried to explain it to his wife Celine but she already knows and tells him not to tamper with it. She doesn't want him to become like her. But because the house is it's own thing it causes him to become obsessed. Causing Mark to do crazy things and see how far he can push his own limits. As for the house: After Mark explained it I saw more and more and made the explanation that much better in my head so I'm only going to tamper with it but that's going to be later on. (Lol sorry!) Now for my craziness to run off with this idea: Celine and William had met earlier in their lives and had fallen in love. However Celine thought William was too crazy and unsafe for the child they had together. (I imagine this after the newspaper article in the office where it says Safari Hunt Gone Wrong). Celine just left with the baby. Which explains Damion. Celine found a way to change herself with the powers. Because she feared death she wanted to become younger and the only way she knew how was to become someone else. After she became someone else she knew it would help her get away from William and protect Damion from the crazy man that he was. They moved away causing Mark and Damion to meet and become friends when they were just children. She got to watch the two of them grow older together. And before they went off to university Celine knew her body had gotten older and she didn't want to go (Die I mean). She became the form of Celine we know now from WKM. This young woman who Mark falls in love with. But before she does that, she tells William about Damion because she doesn't want him to know 1. That this younger person in their lives is her 2. She doesn't think Damion would believe her if she explained it to him (Which later on spoilers he will) and 3. She knew he was going to do great things with his life and she didn't the public to know he was a bastard child. I imagine that William stepped back into Damion's life because he wanted to know more about his son. Damion just kind of kept him around. He knew that when he would run for public office it might make him a better candidate. He also knew that if he became Mayor he could better hide public record about his dysfunctional family. I also believe that Damion didn't want anything to do with his parents once he became an adult. That's why he asks for the Colonel and doesn't use his name when he yells at him during the first episode but William doesn't understand and is trying to be his father and calls him Damion. I think that Damion resents his father for not being their for most of his life because he thinks with him there his mom (Celine) would not have gotten herself interested in Dark Magic. But since the four of them are hanging out more with each other that's Celine explains to Damion who she really is but not until after her she runs away again with William. Damion is trying to help his now heartbroken friend get over his ex. Mark decides the party is a great way to get everyone back together (or the house thought that for him.) Now buckle up because this is where my brain went into insanity mode: I believe that the house is showing Mark the path it should take to kill himself: Because the house was controlling Mark at this point it started making him believe these crazy stories about why his wife would leave him. Hint to the major story I came up with earlier. Mark didn't want to believe that she would just leave so the house created everything above. Because of this I believe that the house manifested everyone in this house. And I mean everyone except Mark obviously The house didn't want us to feel overwhelmed when we walked through the door to something we have no clue what's happening. When you walk into a home of a friends as a kid usually the first person you would meet is the parent right? The first person we are introduced to is William, the father of Damion. The Butler is next but only because it's his job but it's also the houses way to boost Marks ego, (Look man you're rich enough that you can afford a butler to open the door to the guests, makes you feel important right?) The Detective ducks away quickly because we don't need to know him right now. We get to know him really well during the series. But then were met with Damien. We know him, obviously putting us into a (false) since of ease as we walk around because we at least know somebody at the party. With the Chef (Also I picture this taking place during the same time as A Date with Markiplier, so the house would pick someone remembered maybe not fondly but still "Doing his job"). Then we meet the host: Markiplier. The house put's him there to foreshadow everything happening. In this crazy 'dream' (I don't like using dream because dream theory is not what I'm going for here.) When we wake up from our drunken night of fun the Butler is the first person we meet. (I thought that was weird as well but my explanation for that was obviously everyone would be awake except you. The Benjamin has to wake up early along with the Chef to make sure everything is set for the morning, so they are awake already. The others would have asked for something from the Benjamin as they woke as well. Damien is already awake because he's the next person you see and talk too and William doesn't ask for anything and is already roaming around the home. Abe I picture took a shower explaining why he's the only person in the Manor to have a costume change. Leaving only you left to wake up, explaining why he's creepily standing outside your door.) The next person we come up to is Damien, he says his things but the last line is: "I have work to finish but I'll meet you at breakfast." Why would he bring work on a weekend away? There's no reason for him to have his work with him unless his work is already at the manor. The house has him here this whole time. His office is here. Then we find Marks body that falls into frame. I believe Marks body just gave out before we get to talk to him this morning. The house is going on only what Mark would come up with. (From Mark's explanation from the live stream, why would the colonel make sure the only things left behind if he did it was a broken wine bottle and the dead body in the middle of the sitting room? That wouldn't make since but it also wouldn't make since for everybody to go down to the basement/wine cellar at 8:30am. Nobody is have morning wine with breakfast after the rager from the night before.) Causing the who done it's to start. Damien goes to the colonel for a shoulder to cry on. But when the colonel is dismissive of him he becomes more suspicious of him. Damien's already has covered too many things for William and now he doesn't think he can this time. He need's to own up to his actions. That's why at the end of the first episode he needs time to think and during the second he's trying to find the colonel to tell him. As for the Detective, he took over everything right away. I think the house brought him in to be Mark's since of humor through the whole thing. We question his examination of the body and in the second episode when he leads us though the entire house going up and down two flights of stairs, when we could have had the whole monologue told to us while standing around the beautiful portrait of the body outline in the sitting room. In episode two: I like to believe the backstory for the colonel is that he obviously had seen war. He was a decorated man of honor, he did what he had to during his service to come home safely. He drowns out his past because he feels guilty. That's why he knows the dictionary words for Zombie, it's his worst fear. He would obviously tell the one person he trusted, his love, Celine, obviously why she knows the terms as well. You tell someone you trust your worst fears right? (I actually had to look it up, thanks for the new vocab words ;] ) Okay, so this is the part of the second episode where I questioned everything. Why would the detective be looking for clues in the victims bedroom when he already "fingered" the killer. The detective doesn't trust us, he even said it to himself (out loud) in the film-noir scene as we walked through the house. Why would he trust us to tell us we are going to the Colonel's room? (As a person who does set design stuff the context clues are the things that were giving it away. If this was Mark's room why would he still have Celine's things in his room still? I picture he got rid of them out of rage.) The reason I also believe this is Williams room is the pictures in the room. Why would you have a single picture of your friend sitting in your bedroom? Mark wasn't in the photo with him, unlike the other three. I know this sounds mean however, Markiplier (in the video not the one we know IRL) seems to egotistical to have pictures of anybody by themselves in his bedroom. There would be more photos of himself. That's the one thing in the room (besides the crib,) that didn't make since to me. Then there's the last point, out of all 7 rooms (they said it in the live stream), why would the colonel come to one room in the house you are in? Unless he was familiar to the room, like as if it was his own.   To continue what Mark says before: "It's also why when the body moves the colonel suddenly becomes more amicable and he's like 'okay I see what's going on here' and he's just more conversational than he was in the first episode. Since I said earlier, the colonel's worst fear is people coming back from the dead.I believe that's why he becomes more conversational during the later episodes, the body's missing and none of them know where it went. He doesn't want to be alone, afraid of being face to face with a zombie. Explaining why he want's to talk to you, he just needs someone with him, he didn't really want to walk the grounds alone. He runs away thinking you had followed him, then comes in Damien. Damien is trying to be the leader that he is now that he's figured out what he's going to do for the colonel. He starts to make you question the Detective, only becasue with the Mayors power he's normally the people turn to in a time of crisis or need but this time the Detective just took over. He's not saying anything or pointing fingers, just planting a big enough seed to make you think. For episode 3: The only person surprised to see Celine is William, he doesn't want her back where she doesn't belong and worst he doesn't want her tangled up in all of this. The detective has no clue who she is. The chef knows, that's why he tells her what happened. The Butler has only heard stories of her, him being the new guy and all. As for Damien, he doesn't care, he want's her to have the same feelings as he does, with her being his ex and all but he also has odd emotions to all of this. The rest of the episode explains itself really. As for the 4th episode: The colonel never asks for Damien because he knows he's a good kid and wouldn't get himself caught up in the things Celine is doing. William is only looking out for Celine because she's the only thing keeping him sane over the years. The colonel also knows there something wrong with this house, nothing good ever happened in the Manor. So when he say "I won't let my friends die in this godforsaken house," he means the only two people he really cares about. And at the moment both are missing, but he only knows of one. That's why he leaves, in pursuit trying to find Damien. When we reach the office and find the research the detective has done, the colonel isn't mad about the detective keeping tabs on him, he's mad that he was even looking into the others. He realizes at that moment seeing everything in the office that he needs to step up for his actions and needs to do the right thing. However he feels like he needs to put the blame onto someone else for the two main people in his life, that are left, going missing. "He took my friends from me. He took Celine, He took Damien." He knows what happened to Mark, that's why he doesn't mention him in the list of people. He knows that's his wrong doing. In the gut-wrenching end, the colonel doesn't mean to shoot you. He planned on shooting the detective. The colonel is a very smart man, he knows that if you shoot someone in area's away from main artery's or from major organs the person wouldn't die immediately. That's why he shoots the detective in the stomach, it causes him enough pain to shut him up.  We are the odd person out. He want's to hide behind the walls that he's built. The only reason Damien is with Celine in the end is because she want him there. She want's to make sure her child is safe. But in the end, she got everything that she wanted, in a sad twisted way she died knowing her son never turned into something evil, because she made sure they died together. Damien is the pearl out of two evils. I know... I know... two wrongs don't make a right and two red's don't make blue but just hear me out alright? Mark states: "Yes the colonel was waiting there the entire night cradling Damien's cane. He was mourning the loss of his friend and he was standing over your body the entire night mourning his actions. That doesn't mean madness, that means regret. Madness comes from seeing this body you'd been staring at for 10 hours suddenly just get back up. That's where madness happens." That's why the colonel sits with the body all night. Nobody is there anymore to cover for him when something goes wrong. He's afraid that he's going to have explain to the police about why 7 people walked into the home (8 if you count the grounds-keeper but he was a minor character, so in this I don't) and why only 4 are coming out alive (maybe). He cradles the crane because he knows that was the only part of him that came into this world that was good or pure. The colonel knew he was evil, but war had made him that way. Desensitized him from death. He was mourning the loss of the only good thing he had left. He might have called for Celine more but he didn't realize until they both were gone that he loved Damien. That's why he cradled the cane, it was all he had left. He was standing over your body because you were not a part of any of this. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. He became crazy when he saw the body move after 10 hours of it not. He just saw his worst nightmare come true.He watched as the dead rose from the grave. I think that would sent anyone into madness don't you? In the last scene, we pick up the cane. Or do we want to, we stare at it for a bit before picking it up, then our hand twitches (probably not intentional but still, its there) before our hand is not our hand anymore. That's went we look in the mirror, seeing that we are not ourselves but now Damien with the help of his mothers dark magic. But Damien was good, he was the pure child. That's why he doesn't look in the mirror right away, he's guilt stricken because he's becoming just like his parents, the one thing he didn't want to do. That's also why the blue is around him as well he's still the innocent person. But the longer he's trapped (You see it if you go back to ADWM and watch the Horror and what-not path) he becomes more evil and the blue fades. Then he finally looks up, making eye contact. It's not him upset at us, he's upset with himself. Then he walks away. Now my M. Night Shyamalan twist at the end here to make everything really questionable is: Why would Mark invite someone he doesn't really know over for a night with his pal's he hasn't seen in a long time unless the house put us there for/as Mark. Why would two of the people look exactly like Mark unless the house didn't know what to make them so instead it created these people especially for Mark. Mark wouldn't know the man that ran away with his wife, so why not make him this older chap that would be 'crazy' to steal another mans wife. As for Damien,the house has never seen him to put the face with the name. So why not go with someone who Mark can trust, but himself. (If were still going with the egotistical stand point here.) The only ones that repeat that is Damien, "It's good to get the gang back together but out of the blue like this?" Hear me out, The District Attorney of this town is new, Damien even says it. "Oh, there you are old friend. How are you settling into your new office?" Why would only the Mayor be the only one to know you, if Mark is planning his own death at some point in the night? Because each person in the house is important, except you. You're just a pawn, the eyes if you will. This house of evil wants to show Mark exactly what each of them would do. Why would you care if there's a murder or not? You don't know him like the rest of them do.The house knows that out of anyone Mark trusts its Damien. Why not invite an ol' friend? Everything happens the rest of the day just the way Mark would want it too, everyone blaming each other. Getting revenge on the colonel for the sin he committed. The wrench in the plan was Celine to walk through the door, or was it. Her things were already upstairs in the chair we were going to sit in, the house planned everything out for him to get exactly what Mark wanted. In the end The Chef quits, The Butler leaves as well. The Detective's shot, and Celine is become one with the Darkness. Everyone dies including you! But the special thing about you is, you become the shell of a person, Damien takes over your body. The three of them back together. Forever. But the thing is, Mark was just a pawn too. The house is what trick you in the end, it needs a body. You're the body it needs, not completely broken as the rest of them someone who's willing to just go along with everything. The house tried to host in Mark, "It's not fair is it?" meaning Mark already knows what's going to happen next. It's going to give you the two people who you think you need to see. Celine because she can easily convince you to do whatever it wants and Damien, your friend, the only face you would know at the party. Celine says "I wont force this on you, you have a choice here. It's the only way you can escape." Any other decision in any of the videos was followed by a very obvious shake, but this time we just stood there. Then she went ahead and sent us back. We never had the choice. We were the pawn.