While it may not seem like it at first, YES, this IS a Loud House Story. It's also pretty short, in fact, I think this qualifies as a s***post.
Have you wondered how to not be suspected during a cliche story? Well, original or not, I pulled it off perfectly.
Time: 1:02pm
Date: June 15th, 2017
Situation: Many guests have come to a mansion in the woods. However, there's been a murder, the victim wasn't even a guest, but he had white hair. Detective Cerin Smith has been studying the case for hours. However, every single time he made a conclusion on who the murderer could be, the real one strikes and leaves Cerin back to square one. There's only four guests left, including Cerin himself, and now he's trying to come down to the final solution.
Cerin was standing next to the front wall, looking on at the three other guests he was with. "That leaves four of us, any one of us could be the white haired boy's murderer" Cerin said. He got a response from the elderly man sitting in the chair nearby.
"Well, it wasn't me, a man of my age could never pull this kind of stunt. Besides, that kid wasn't even a guest at the party, who could he be?" The elderly man said.
Cerin simply sighed. "All I know is that he used to live in a house back in town. Whoever the murderer is found him out there, brought him here, and killed him as a way of threatening us." He concluded.
"I've had enough of this madness! I don't care if I get struck by lightning on the way out, I'm not going to be in a murder house!" Screamed the young man in his early 20s. He began to ran for the front door.
The detective noticed something, and immediately warned the young man about it. "No! Stop!" Cerin yelled. But it was too late. The second the man had crossed the devil's threshold, the lights went out.
When the lights came back on, the man who was sprinting from the door was hanged there. Lifeless, limp, and swaying slowly. "My God!" Shouted the elderly man, raising as much as he could manage in his chair.
Cerin simply observed the scene as closely as he could, that's when he noticed it. "The noose isn't tied very well, in fact, it should give way in a few moments." Cerin said. After a little waiting, the body fell from the poorly tied rope. The body landed on the floor and fell forward. From feet, to knees, to laying on it's stomach in the matter of a second.
Cerin walked up to the body. "With poor craftsmanship like that, I'd say the only way the thing actually killed him was if he was yanked up with it." Cerin said. He walked over to a doorway nearby. "I'll be in the restroom for a bit. Let me know if you see anything." He said.
Cerin was walking down the hall to the restroom. He was thinking to himself. "Every single person I've traced the case back to has joined the unknown victim. The white hair of the victim is peculiar, as no person should have such a color without the use of dye at such a young age." Cerin kept mumbling to himself, not noticing the eyes peeking at him from the darkness.
Maybe the eyes are watching your back too!
Cerin then sighed as he continued walking. "Then the poor man got hung viciously just because he wanted to leave, but that was not the exit he wanted. I have to face facts. This the last case I'll ever cover. Good thing I recently rewrote my will." He said as he reached the restroom.
After Cerin did what he had to do, he was walking back, until he heard a scream. "Drat!" He said, as he started running down the hall. He turned the corner only to find both the elderly man, and woman from before dead.
"What!? That's not possible, they're the only people besides me in the house." Cerin looked around, and as he glanced over the mirror, he saw a shadow behind him zip away. Cerin was glad he went to the restroom beforehand, because if he hadn't, he would've dropped it there.
"I'LL TEAR YOU TO PIECES CERIN!" A demonic voice boomed through the house. The poker from the fireplace tool kit started rising into the air, and then pointed at Cerin. With blazing speed, it flew at the detective, but he ducked.
The poker, while it did miss Cerin, flew past him and stabbed the already dead young man from before.
"Are you kidding me? That's just unnecessary." Cerin said. That's when he noticed two large smokey hands about to close on him. He jumped forward, dodging the clap that probably would have squeezed out his insides like the toothpaste from an almost empty tube.
The two hands went toward the mirror and phased into it. They reattached themselves to the arms of the shadow that was watching Cerin before. The shadow then leaned forward, trying to get out of the mirror, spilling out in the form of a black sludge. The sludge was absorbing balls of light, presumably all the souls of the murdered innocents in the mansion.
Then it happened. A hand rose from the sludge, and the sludge kept rising to form of a body. The body was the same as the white haired boy that was the start of the case. "Hello Cerin." He said.
The demonic version of the white haired boy was drastically different. He was wearing a long sleeve shirt, sweatpants, and tennis shoes, all of which were colored dark gray. His left eye had purple sclera and a reptilian-like slim pupil. Two of his top teeth were purple and pointy, in a similar manner vampire fangs. His hands were covered in smoke, and his eyes leaked black tears.
"No! This is not possible." Cerin screamed out. For the first time ever, he was witnessing something uncontrollable.
"Of course it's possible! Mirrors are gateways between the dimensions of the living and the dead. I just needed souls to exploit the gateway!" It shouted. It's demonic presence and altering voice were enough to make the situation unhinged.
"Sorry Cerin, but time is up." The demonic being snapped it's smokey hand, and then the chandelier from above came crashing down on top of Cerin, fatally injuring the man. The demonic being walked past him, but Cerin grabbed it's leg.
"You can't get away with this." Cerin said. Cerin said. The being just smirked, not even bothering with the grip on his leg.
"Afraid I already have Cerin, I'm dead after all." The being said. Pulling up the first dead body with white hair that started it all. The body of Lincoln Loud. The being simply threw the body toward the fireplace. Cerin fell unconscious, and the being started walking out the door.
"I am the distorter, I am the murderer, I am the Killer Lincoln!" The Demon shouted as he walked out the door of the mansion.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
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Thank you for getting to the end of this s***post short story. And I am deeply sorry you had to read this cliched brain dumpster. I'm kidding. Slightly.