Powerham Secondary School; one of the many public places of schooling in the London area. At one time, even our favourite bluenette demon had attended, as with quite a few of the others. This was why the man had made himself appear somewhat older, giving himself the appearance of a man in his early thirties. Being an alumni of the school was part of the reason why he was allowed in so quickly.
When he attended, he was still his old, reserved self, making a point to avoid any unnecessary relationships, as always. He was considered to be a "bright" student, whereas in reality, he had simply heard the lessons countless times before. Some of the teachers that he had gone to school with were still here, and while he had absolutely no interest in meeting any of them again, he did his best to stay polite, even while ushered around the school by his old headmaster.
"It's good to see you again, Phantomhive." The man said. He was lying, of course, as he hardly remembered the boy, but given the fact that he was now someone of importance, it was in his best interest to pretend. "Never expected a student to come back as an investigator."
"Neither did I." the bluenette replied, hoping his tone didn't sound as if he was onto the other man's farce. "I just need to ask a couple questions to a few members of the staff, and I'll be on my way."
"Well, if there's anything you need, please feel free to ask."
"Actually, having the class-schedules of the victims would be immensely helpful." Ciel said with a kindly faux-smile. After a few moments, the head master nodded before turning to his computer as he sat behind his desk.
"Of course." The other man said as he typed. Soon, the printer in the corner of the room began to hum, dispensing two sheets of paper. The headmaster got up and retrieved them before handing them to the detective. "Is there anything else?" Ciel shook his head.
"No, this will do nicely." The Phantomhive replied. "Thank you for your help."
With that, the demon stood up and walked toward the door with schedules in hand. He offered the headmaster a friendly smile before exiting. His grin immediately fell upon shutting the door behind him.
Ciel took a seat in the commons area in order to look over the papers. He ignored the stares from some of the students, and did his best not to chuckle at their whispering. For some reason, the man took a great delight in the speculations about his presence, and the stories that have been told about him. One group of teens said that he looked like a member of the mafia, while another said he looked like a secret agent. The latter was correct, but they would never know just how warped his job really was.
After a while, he drowned out the whispers completely and focused back on his task. Ciel glanced over the two schedules, comparing them. None of the students' classes overlapped, but they had the same teachers, all of whom were from required classes. All of them, but one, the art teacher. They didn't have her class during the same period, but both of them had art as an elective. Ciel sighed, as he wasn't sure if this was anything of any use, but still, he pulled out his phone and sent a text to Bailey Junior.
"Ask the friends and family of the two
student victims if they liked art.
-CP"
If the man didn't answer soon with any results, the Phantomhive would simply have to go home for the day and search for other leads. Or, if he was feeling particularly bold, he could simply go to the teacher's class right then and conduct his own interview. Thus, he stood up, and began walking to the classroom of Mrs. Stephanie Dinsdale.
If Ciel's memory was correct, in all of his years of schooling, art teachers were almost always well-liked. They were casual, conversational, and made students feel at ease. Along with English teachers, and drama teachers, the flexible nature in their way of thinking makes them oftentimes very understanding. It was perfect, wasn't it? It fit in with the hypothesis that the victims were lured to their deaths. As Ciel opened the door, he was met with everything he had hoped for; a kindly-looking woman who looked as though she would never harm a fly. The devil smiled as the woman looked up from grading papers in order to address him.
"Can I help you?" the woman asked, looking somewhat startled by the man's appearance. Who wouldn't be? He was stern-looking, and wore a black suit and eyepatch. He was like a villain from the latest summer action flick.
"I'm looking for Mrs. Dinsdale?" he asked, surprising the teacher again by speaking in a soft voice, and putting on a warm smile. "I need to ask her a few questions."
"You've come to the right place, then." The woman stated. She stood up and shook the man's hand. "I'm Stephanie Dinsdale. What kind of questions do you need answers to?"
"I'm Victor Beattie." Ciel lied, using an alias. If this person knew about satanic rituals, then it's entirely possible that she's been warned of the infamous watchdog. He flashed his badge, but not long enough for the woman to see his name. "I'm with Scotland Yard. I just need to ask a few questions about the two students of this school who were recently killed. Just a few little things about them, is all. Nothing to worry yourself about."
The woman nodded and say back down. "I'll be happy to help. Please, sit down. There's no need to stand there all day!" she said as she gestured to one of the chairs that sat at the nearest table. Ciel casually pulled up a seat and sat in front of the woman.
"I guess we'll start with the most recent case; Mister Aaron Baxter." He said, reaching into his coat and pulling out a small memopad. He reached around into his other pockets before looking up. "I'm sorry, do you have a pen I could borrow?"
"Of course, I've got another one around here, somewhere…" Dinsdale trailed off, fumbling around her desk for a pen. Once she found one, she took off the cap and scribbled on a piece of scrap paper to make sure it was working.
"Not that one, I guess." She said, as it produced no ink. As expected of an art teacher. She probably has doodled countless times with the pens on her desk. With that, she reached underneath her desk and pulled out her purse before rummaging through it.
"Ah! Here we are!" she declared before handing the writing utensil over. The demon accepted it, his fingers brushing against the instructor's briefly. He watched her face carefully, noticing a small twitch of her brow and her face changing hues.
"Thank you." Ciel said, sitting back in his chair. He clicked the pen before scribbling on the pad in his hand. He held it up to his gaze, examining it before scribbling again. This time, he actually applied some pressure and created lines. The single blue eye of the Phantomhive flickered upwards to catch the instructor staring, and smiled.
"So, Aaron Baxter…" the demon began. "What was he like?" He watched the woman's face carefully as her eyes flickered toward the bottom left and then back to his gaze again.
"He was very bright." Answered the instructor, almost predictably. "Very creative. He loved what he did, I could tell. He was a bit eccentric, I'll give him that. Always the center of attention…"
"Did he get along well with the class?"
"Yes, he'd always help others, and ask questions. He'd always ask if he could stay after and work on projects."
"I see." Ciel said, half-heartedly jotting things down. To him, only certain parts of this information was relevant. With a falsely sympathetic smile, he looked up again. "What can you tell me about the other victim? Clara Adler?"
"She was very creative as well. She took her art a bit more seriously than Aaron, but was just as passionate." Replied Missus Dinsdale. "She always tried to learn everything she could about art, and always had questions to ask." When she looked up at the man seated across from her, the smile on the woman's face fell as the colour from her face drained. Somehow, the friendly smile that he wore had now twisted into something cruel. Ciel clicked the pen once more before asking:
"Can you show me the weapon that's in your purse?"
"Wh-what?" the woman asked, her voice shaking. To this, the boy held up the pen in his hand.
"This pen reeks of iron, and looking closely, you can see traces of blood on it." The bluenette stated. "Can you show me the weapon that's in your purse?"
"Mister Beattie, you certainly don't think that I killed those two, do you?!"
"Of course I do. You're perfect." Ciel answered. "The victims were killed by blunt force to the back of the head; most likely with a hammer, from the size of the indention. There were no signs of them fighting back, and they were far away from where they were supposed to be. They walked there willingly. Why? Because they were lured there by someone they trusted."
"And you think that's me?!" the woman demanded, standing up. Regardless of her actions, the demon stayed seated; a gleam of amusement flickering in his eye.
"Yes." The demon bluntly said, his voice smooth. "According to you, the two victims were some of the best in your class. They trusted you enough to ask questions, didn't they? To ask if they could stay after class and work? You helped them. They were easy targets to you. Furthermore, the blood from your face drained the moment I grabbed this pen, as if you knew you had made a mistake in handing it over. Your eyes could never stay focused on me the entire time I was here, as if you were trying to avoid me, and your face twitched nervously." Ciel leaned forward.
"You knew, didn't you?" he asked. "You knew you were a suspect from the start. Now, why don't you show me what's in your bag?"
"It's just art mateirials." The woman said. "That's probably paint, not blood."
"It's the wrong colour. You would have to mix paints to achieve this shade of red." Ciel replied. "Let me see your art materials, then. It would be interesting if you had paintbrushes in there, especially given that messages were painted on the walls in the victims' blood." The art instructor clenched her fists and grit her teeth.
"You…" she growled, glaring at the man. Suddenly she reached into her bag. "I'll show you the weapon!" she shouted, brandishing a hammer.
She raised it high above her head before bringing it crashing down again, aiming right for the Phantomhive's forehead. Her eyes widened when her arm abruptly stopped short of its target. A whimper escaped her lips as the man had her wrist held tightly in his grip. He squeezed the woman's arm harder, forcing her to drop the hammer.
"It's over, Dinsdale." The man said. "I've caught you red-handed."
A/N: Yo. I took the day off yesterday because I wasn't feeling it, and today, we've almost got 2,000 words. How does that even...?
Whatever...
Heheh... We have 69 reviews right now...
Uh... what do I even say here? I've got nothin'...
Gosh, it's getting late...
Questions?
"Question for HateWeasel-sempai - Do you happen to be on Wattpad, or any other place other than and Deviantart?" by BlazeingEcho
What's Wattpad?
Eh, I have this, a DA, and a Tumblr. That's pretty much it. I'm boring.
"Hate, how do you come up with each of your murder arcs? Do you base them off of real on ones or just think them up?" by Vannaluv
Sometimes, while scrounging for ideas, I just go to the crime section of practically any news site. Huffingtonpost is my favourite, because it's semi-easy to navigate, and I don't have to read a whole lot to get the story. It's good for short attention spans.
Anyway, it's kind of a combination of reality and fiction. Sometimes, I come up with some bizarre gimmick, but others come from fact. Sometimes, I take aspects of the facts and add fiction, or vice versa.
If you wanna write a murder, though, I'd suggest looking at the real deal first.
Until the next chapter, my duckies~!
CHARACTER SHET
Question: "Sebastian: Do things like 666 or creepypastas exist for real? If so, how are they made? Ciel: How would you feel if Alois had the power to turn to a girl like how you can get older?" by Auraheart
Sebastian's Answer: "I'm not entirely sure, to be honest. I'm pretty certain that most of those are human inventions, but then again, the master and Mister Trancy claim to have seen 'Slenderman' once on a camping trip."
Alois' Answer:"I've mastered getting older, and I've almost got being a girl down, too. I can keep the shape for up to ten minutes and I usually use every second to bother Ciel. It's hilarious how he won't admit to wanting to touch my chest. He still thinks he can hide his 'impure thoughts' from me! Ha!"
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Question: "Sebastian if Luka grows up into a brave and kind gentleman or however you raise him to be, how proud will you be?
Hey, Revy. You remind me so much if myself. Anyways, why are you so anti social, you dont interact with people (look whose talking.). Any reasons?" by hollowshizuo15
Sebastian's Answer: "I would be immensely pleased by that. I would have completed that task."
Revy's Answer: "I'm not anti-social. It's just hard to interact with people, when there's not too many people to see. I stay in the mansion, most of the time, you know and the others are really weird. I do talk to people online, though. I have a blog."
