Hello all! I have decided to take a break from writing my other Kuro fanfic to start a new project. I am hoping all of you will be rather interested in how this works.

I will go ahead and tell you that this is not like the movie (although I love it), and it's more elaborate than the card game. This is more closely related to the musical. Yes you heard me, the musical.

These are the characters:
Sebastian Michaelis as Mr. Boddy (will be called Mr. Michaelis)
Angelina Durless as Miss Scarlet
Lau as Mr. Green
Claude Faustus as Professor Plum
Hannah Anafeloz as Mrs. Peacock
Agni as Colonel Mustard
Angela as Mrs. White
Ciel Phantomhive as The Detective

Sebastian: Cookie doesn't own Kuroshitsuji, the board game Clue, or anything based off the board game.

Me: That includes the movie, musical, any and all adaptations on PC or any other.

Is told by Sebastian Michaelis

PLEASE BE PREPARED FOR OOCNESS AHEAD

CLUE: The murder at Michaelis Manor

"The Game"

Good day, ladies and gentlemen! Michaelis, Mr. Michaelis, is my name. Welcome to my home, Michaelis Manor. On tonight's events I am the planner—this fun and folly known as a game. Here, inside this house, a group of people who all think I'm a louse. The premise of this game is simple. Kill me—with one weapon, in one room. You won't rest easily until I rest permanently! Ah, the inevitable joy of my doom!

Find six rooms inside, a place to hide, a place to play a game. Murder is its name. You choose the cards, you play it hard, but only one can win! Murder is our bill of fare. Now you'll see motive everywhere, so let the game begin. Six weapons pass from hand to hand with passion! Six suspects from square one are on the run.

Let's meet them now and hear the tales they fashion! Be cautious! From here it's all or none for Murder one.

Hannah Anafeloz, also known as Mrs. Peacock, steps forward beside me, "I am Mrs. Peacock, well-known, well-traveled, and well-preserved. I am the rose of the Peacock family and the Chairperson of the Board of Peacock Enterprises, a position I acquired with the death of my first husband, Anthony. My second husband, Neville, gave me an authentic Renoir, Vincenzo, my third, my villa in Capri, my fourth, a 10 carat diamond ring. But my fifth, I've forgotten him completely. He gave me nothing." She smiles at me, "I'm happy to say I am a newlywed again. Mr. Michaelis has recently become my sixth. I have wealth, I have power, I have London's best plastic surgeon."

She grasps my hand, "If I'm the one they choose to be the killer, poor darling, this means you're my sixth to die."

I grinned evilly, seeing the murderous look in her eyes, "Then promise me you'll make sure it's a thriller."

"I will but, I'll need someone to be my alibi." She gives a look to Colonel Mustard.

Now we move on to the next person, Claude Faustus, known as Professor Plum.

"I am Professor Plum BA, MA, PhD—that's me." The tall man said egoistically, "I am an author by trade, an intellect by birth, and a potential murderer by choice. You see, I was born in London, raised in New York, attended Oxford, and years later became a part of the British think-tank in the States. It was in Washington that I met Mr. Michaelis. He was a lobbyist for the oil industry. He asked me to ghost write a book for him about the government involvement in the oil industry for a handsome fee. Indeed I agreed. As Somerset Maugham said, 'Money is like a sixth sense—you can't make use of the other five without it.'"

He begrudgingly walked up to me, "To mastermind a crime is quite fulfilling. To execute was never my strong suit. The mastermind will always get top billing. The corpse is a nameless body plainly dressed to boot."

I rolled my eyes, "Till the deed is done, I'm game for everyone."

We glared at each other as we spoke simultaneously, "Murder is our bill of fare and you'll see motive everywhere. But only one can win."

After that, is Miss Scarlet, formerly known as Angelina Durless or Madam Red.

The crimson dressed woman strutted forward, "I'm Miss Scarlet. I'm an actress…well, a singer…no, more like a performer. You know, I do it all. Or so that's what my men friends tell me. No one knows this, but I first met Mr. Michaelis when I was performing in Las Vegas. I opened for a cheap dog juggling act at 3 am at a nearby bar and casino. Mr. Michaelis was in Vegas on business. He saw my show, loved it, and asked if I'd give him an encore later on back in his hotel room. Well you know me, I do love an audience."

She pulls out a gun and points it at me, "The last time that we played, I had to shoot you. The trigger jammed, I nearly missed my cue."

Colonel Mustard is next, he is commonly called Agni.

"Colonel Mustard here." He said saluting, "I've stormed bunkers, pillaged barricades, and triumphed in war. Not with might, but with imagination. See, this soldier never had the opportunity to serve in the armed forces, because of legislation initiated by Senator Michaelis, Mr. Michaelis's father. It bans from the military any person who has the disease which causes people to mistake humans for inanimate objects, Non-identify-itis. A person can live quite normally with this ailment, until they become excited and their blood pressure increases. Then your neighbor becomes a Volkswagen, your son a toaster—you get the idea. Shortly after the bill was passed, Senator Michaelis mysteriously died, now Mr. Michaelis calls me Dad."

He turned to face me, "Do you recall the last time that I killed you? I beat you silly with a candlestick."

"But I recall you struck me with a lead pipe."

"Yes that's right." He said correcting himself, "Today perhaps I'll try my new rope trick."

Now for the next suspect, Mrs. White. Most know her as Angela.

The woman all dressed in white curtsied, "My name is Mrs. White. I hate the Mrs. part, but that's what I'm called by Mr. Michaelis who I live with, as I'm his housekeeper. Actually I'm his cook and his housekeeper, but he doesn't pay me enough to be called both, so I say I'm just his housekeeper. And I don't mean to say that I live with him, because I've got my own room in the basement, where I sleep on a thin mattress on a cot not fit for prisoners in a jail cell. And the food, I get scraps, leftovers—gristly stuff the dog won't eat. And I work seven days a week, with no breaks, no praise, no holidays, I get nothing. I need a drink."

I stepped up behind her as she spun around, "In mysteries they all blame the maid or butler."

"But we don't have a butler here to blame!" I exclaimed, backing away as she advanced.

"And if the cops come hunting for me, I'm ready. A jailhouse full of blokes for me to tame."

The last one, a certain Mr. Green, personally known to most as Lau, appears.

"Green's the name. Money is my game. I'm a sultan of the stock market, king of commodities—an entrepreneur. I got me a national chain of beauty salons called Teasin' your Blues Away. I own the world's most popular discount air carrier, Pennies in Heaven, and I'm also part of a joint venture with Mr. Michaelis, which specializes in the restoration of ancient monuments, Colossal Nips and Tucks. Our most recent project is the Great Pyramids. We're gonna protect them from the elements by covering them with vinyl siding. What a concept, sandstone-colored siding that blends right into the stone so you don't even know it's there… I'm a genius."

I looked and saw all the suspects lined up, each with a weapon in hand. All sang concurrently, "Six weapons pass from hand to hand with passion. Six suspects from square one. We're on the run. You've met us know and heard the tales we've fashioned."

"Be cautious!"

"Intrepid."

"Conniving."

"Contriving."

"Seductive."

"Elusive."

"So now you play our little game of murder. Our little game of murder. Play the game to win. No matter if you land on top or bottom, you've played it! And now it's time to play the game again. Yes! The game has now begun, six suspects on the run, it's always all or none for Murder one!"

I paced back and forth, weaving in between the six frozen suspects-to-be, "Tonight, we won't save the world from ruin. We aren't getting any Nobel prize. We will win no lottery jackpots." I stepped up eye to eye with Mr. Green, "We will encounter some crackpots, loony antics, and clues to scrutinize."

"Crackpots, how do you like that? He called us crackpots." The emerald man scoffed.

Mrs. Peacock rolled her eyes, "Take a look around. You don't often see sane people in a two dimensional world, made with yellow blocks and paint by number rooms."

Ladies and gentlemen, you will determine the ending of this story. After this chapter, three of you will be selected and asked a question with multiple choice answers. Depending on your answer is what will be chosen. There are six potential suspects, six possible murder weapons, and six probable rooms for me to die in—six, six, six. Hmmm… that's very interesting. 216 potential endings, but only one will be the conclusion of this story.

So for three of you, lies our destiny, the only key to the mystery of the game. We find ourselves in an interesting place. The end is decided before we even begin. So, what is the objective from a player's perspective to solve the mystery like a true detective and ultimately win? Your goal is to figure out what has been chosen. Who did it, with what weapon, and in what room? You'll arrive at this conclusion by deducing the solution from clues I will give you throughout the game. There shall be two rounds of clues to assist you. One round will be before my death and the second will be after. Participation is solely by choice, if you don't truly want to guess how I shall meet my end.

We shall be anxious to see at the end of the game, if your conclusions and ours are one and the same. So let's start the journey to arrive at its end. To all suspicious doings, diligently attend.

Well I hope you all like it so far! I will be in charge of picking who shall be the chosen three readers. Yes, in case anyone is wondering, this will rely heavily on the musical. So all who know the ending of that, no spoilers for the others, m'kay?

Bye bye! See you next time!