Ye ye ye, how about a new chapter, everyone?
This one was a bit problematic, but I finally spat something I approved of out ^ ^'
So, er, enjoy!
~Goldie
I walk into the room carefully and quietly, searching for any signs of intruders. Or at least some sort of light switch. "Do you see anything?" I quietly ask the butler…but, strangely, he didn't answer. Turning back toward the doorway, I look to Wadsworth and hope there isn't a problem.
On the contrary, nothing is problematic for him.
In seconds, he bounds over to where I am and swiftly grabs my collar, dragging me toward him. This fast paced movement catches me off-guard-and he notices, seizing the opportunity and he…kisses me.
I try to read his face, but the dark is hiding it-as well as my surfacing blush. He freezes, lips on mine, as if he had no idea what to do next. Luckily one of us does. I kiss him back, and bite his lip. He growls, and the alarm at the back of my mind goes off, heeding me not to do this, warning me of what the consequences might be. But the sounds Wadworth is making are decibels louder, and much more pleasant. Besides, if anyone's to blame, it'd be him. He did start this, after all. I unwittingly smirk slightly against his lips, before pushing him up against one of the dusty walls aggressively. He yelps and that startles us away from each other. An unknown object was sticking out of the wall, and managed to jab him in the back. Feeling around for whatever it was, I attempt to lighten the awkward mood.
"…well," I finally begin, having trouble breathing at a normal pace, "We found the light switch."
"Ah. Good." Wadsworth squeaks. He looks at the switch, and then back to me, waiting for me to flip the lights on. I count to three, and turn the lights on, blinding us for a moment, before they shut off abruptly.
…was that supposed to happen?
"Did a circuit break?" I ask my butler companion as I look out into the hallway. The other lights are off, too. A quick glance down the railings tells me all the lights are off. In that case, it couldn't have been a circuit…they don't shut off all the lights in a building when broken. Not hearing an answer out of Wadsworth, I move to where I left him by the light switch, just to find empty space. Now that's strange. Where had he gone?
I listen for breathing, hushing my own. Not a sound. He's not in the room anymore, that's for sure. Why would he leave? A smart man like him should know better with a murderer running about! Stepping away from the doorway, I look in the room again for Wadsworth; but finding nothing, I sit down on the bed and sigh. With this act of 'disappearance' by Wadsworth, I realize in this case everyone is a suspect. Even the butler. The quirky and kind man, who was now missing. As viable a future victim as a murderer, in all honesty. It was quiet on the top floor. I crept around and peered up the attic stairs.
Nothing. It is pitch black, and no one can be heard from up there. Did Mrs. White and Yvette disappear too? One person disappearing was enough. I cautiously walk over to the railing and look down to the ground floor, just in time to see a figure step into the library-or was that the billiard room? Either way, it seemed someone was busy being secretive…that isn't a good sign. Piercing the silence, and derailing my train of thought, the doorbell shrills. I hold my breath as someone crosses the hall to the door- was it the same person?
They opened it wide, and the guest outside began to sing a jaunty little tune.
"Da-da, da-da da da! I am your 'singing telegram'-!"
A gunshot echoed through the mansion, and the singing telegram slumped to the ground violently. They must have shot her! Why, though? She was just an innocent young woman, doing her job!
The person slammed the door shut, and they walked away, vanishing into the darkness.
This was getting out of hand. I listened for a few seconds more, and walked back to the master bedroom, deciding to wait out the power outage. But just as I had reached my destination, I heard a crash of boxes and other items come from the storage room! Was that the murderer? Carefully, I slinked to the room where the noises originated. And in there, I saw…
"Oh thank goodness you're alright!" Wadsworth sat up from on top of the pile of boxes he had landed on. He smiled, and hurried over to me, dusting himself off. He looked at me sheepishly, then giving me a peck on the cheek, and continuing, "I heard the gunshot, I was worried that…that you may have been added onto our list of victims."
I returned the smile, glad to see Wadsworth was unharmed and safe. "Same here. This isn't exactly the safest situation to be alone in. I'm glad you're safe." We stood, enjoying each other's company for a moment, before he cleared his throat. "Well, I suppose I should go downstairs and try to get the power back on."
"I'll join you." The murderer can't get both of us at the same time. Traveling in a group is a lot less hazardous. We ambled down the stairs, and turned left into the cellar entrance. Wadsworth groped around in the darkness, before exclaiming "Aha!" and the sounds of a switch being flipped were heard. The lights all turned on, illuminating the mansion suddenly. In the dining room, someone bumped into a table. I looked in, seeing confused Colonel Mustard rub his head. Sometimes that man was really the dullest knife in the drawer. The music in the Study started back up, filling the rigid air with light-hearted melodies. The other guests joined us in the hall, solemnly dragging their feet. We walked to the Billiard Room, where upon opening the door, we saw Yvette sprawled across the pool table, a noose around her neck. Dead.
A few of the others groaned at the sight of another body, and we walked back out and into the library. The cop was dead, too. Lying on the drinks table, bleeding from his head. There was more remorse for this death than the previous. A cop, dying in the hands of a psychotic murderer. There was no honor in that. Professor Plum approached the body, and picked up the lead pipe from the floor. The weapon was covered in the policeman's blood.
"None of them shot." He muttered, "I thought I heard a gun."
Some of the guests created a cacophony of agreement, made up of "Me too.", "Yeah." and "So did I." Scarlet paled, "I thought I heard the front door slam."
"Oh god. The murderer must have run out!" the Colonel exclaimed, running to the door, followed by everyone else. I joined them, even though the scene I had witnessed would prove otherwise. Wadsworth opened the door, I by his side. Our eyes trailed downward, ending their descent on the pretty telegram girl's still body, a red hole with blood flowering from it in her chest.
"Three murders." Wadsworth declared.
"…six, altogether." I added, miserably.