Murder Murder

Red was screaming bloody murder.

Emphasis on murder.

James stepped out of Hammerspace, looking at the... view. Red had a knife impaled through him, likely through a lung or two - maybe more organs than that.

James quickly muttered a spell, Holdwihm - Slowdown. James than took the knife out, and brought Red to the hospital wing by hand - to say, without magic, lest Red die instantly. Doctor Mario was too busy to even complain about his salary.

"Why did you not use healing magic?" Doctor Mario asked. James sighed.

"There is no such thing as healing magic. Not truly." James said, confusing the Doc. The mage-slash-swordsman-slash-punster-slash-trickster smirked.

"Healing magic exists in faint residues, but only a handful of people could use. I say 'could', because the last line of those who could use healing magic is dead. Aeris, her name was. Impalement. Miserable." He said. "With no more people who can use white magic, it takes the talent of god to do so, now." The doc nodded, hoping Red was fine.

"Hey, James, if you need anything, let me know, okay?" Steven said, startling him.

"STEVEN?! How did you get here?" James asked, surprised.

"A; Red is one of my best friends," Steven said, "And B; you left the door wide open..."

"Oh, damn it." James said.

"What? Do you hate me or something?" Steven replied.

"Oh, don't worry about it." James said. It was a bad habit of his, always leaving a door open. James heard coughing.

"Red! You're okay! James exclaimed.

"Not exactly, I'm still bleeding, I can barely speak and;" Red was suddenly coughing up a tiny bit of blood red as his namesake. "... and I don't think coughing up blood is okay normally." Red gave a ghost of a smile.

"Um, don't, don't worry, Red. I'll fix this. Avenge you...?" James said, the sentence trailing off.

"Don't write me off JUST yet." Red said, smirking.

"Preferably don't write you off, I take it." James countered, eliciting a small laugh from the trainer.

"Well, see you Red. With you fine and the crook punished. Ciao!" James said, smiling. But the second his back was to Red he scowled - eyes glowing vindictively.

James was walking towards the location of the crime, thinking about his plan. A; find a clue. B; use said clue to find the attacker. C; laugh while they get their comeuppance. But of course, no plan is that easy. A - part one; Search high and low for a clue. B - part one; study said clue for several hours. B - part two; Ask Red who would have motive to kill him. The list went on and on.

He also needed to likely fight the maniac, and James had shown most of his tactics already. Maybe if he were to grab the Levin Sword from his room? Next to the -

"Fuck." James said, seeing the scene.

James couldn't believe his eyes. The room, which had been splattered in blood before - was clean, spotless. James looked around for something, confused. That was TOO quick... The guy couldn't have LOADed, it would have fixed Red at least.

James looked at the sparkling clean walls. It was cleaner in here than before the murder - for sure not a LOAD.

James was having bad traction of the floor, which must have been mopped, when he tripped. He hit the ground, causing the Original Mii to swear in English twice more. Once, for hitting his head against the cold marble floor. Twice, for the message written on the high, high ceiling - the message in blood.

Murder, murder, on the wall

Quite a shame you had to fall,

And at this point just who cares

To save the one right by the stairs?

To save the one right by the stairs?

James jumped to his feet, ignoring the blood rushing to his head and instead running the center tower - the staircase. James looked around. No one.

James' left eye shone once more, screaming and spinning.

"SHOW YOURSELF," James couldn't hear the small creak of the wood beneath over his voice.

" - YOU LITTLE SON OF A BI-"

James was abruptly cut off by a snap, and a fall. A long fall. One story, two stories, three, four.

The last thought James had before passing out was that falling four stories felt like falling forty.

James woke up to Dr. Mario yelling at Master Hand.

"Next person to get sent here by fall injuries, and I quit!" The doc yelled. Master Hand ignored the statement, instead walking - floating? - to James.

"Ah, James, you're awake."

James tried to speak, but nothing came out.

He started sputtering incoherently before Master Hand explained what was wrong.

"Nerve damage, James. You won't be able to talk for a while."

James frowned. If his last SAVE file hadn't been a month ago (plus the two weeks he had been out, originally unaware it was that long), he would have LOADed at Red's injury, avoiding this whole fucking game.

James managed to vocalize this in one growl.

"But - you can leave the wing." Master Hand said. James smiled. Good. He had stuff to work on. But what about the attacker?

Master Hand, as if reading James' mind. "We believe to have found the attacker. Wario - likely a revenge plan on everyone who encouraged Luigi back on that match."

James smirked his trademark smirk. Luigi managed to defeat Wario for a second time - two and a half months AFTER his victory. Kudos, L.

"Red is better, so now, um, enjoy your day, James. You should be able to talk by morning, so don't stress out."

James smirked again. If he couldn't even talk if he wanted to, now injuries on the device would be a lot less... noisy.

Yeah. James got up, heading for his room.

At the door, James saw something. He blinked his eyes - a second time - third. Was that... a disembodied shadow? James went for his room, grabbed his soldering iron, and got to work. If this was to be done by his deadline, he was in for some late nights.