17. Belles to the Walls Part V.

“If ye all stopped screamin’, I wouldn’t have to do this!” Cain yelled as he shoved a balled-up shirt in a maid’s mouth. He tried to close the closet door, but there were too many people jammed inside for it to properly shut.

“D’anna, help me with this!” the skeleton grunted, pushing all of his weight onto the door. (It wasn’t very much, since he only weighed around twenty-five pounds or so.)

“Hrrrgrk!” the elf grunted as she leaned on the door, digging the heels of her boots into the floor in an effort to not slip. Cain kicked the legs of butlers and maids into the closet until the door was finally able to close.

“Finally!” the skeleton sighed. He rolled up his spool of wire and put it back into his pouch. “That should be tha last of ‘em. Now, ye go search tha ground floor fer anythin’ ta plunder, I’ll go upstairs. And uh…” he said before looking up several flights of stairs, “...whoever finishes first’ll check out tha third floor. And whoever be done after that gets ta check out tha fourth floor… and so on and so forth…” 

D’anna nodded and creeped down a hallway, even though they gagged-and-bound every single person they came across. 

Cain gnashed his teeth as he walked up a velvet-carpeted staircase. Mansions did nothing but piss him off. Who needs a house this big, this fancy? He couldn’t even figure out why you would need a second floor, let alone a third or a fourth. And why would you need guardrails with stairs this wide, let alone ones made with marble? 

“Blasted warmongers…” he grumbled as he opened the nearest door. “This place be built with nothin’ but blood mon—” 

A giant ball of flame blasted his face with a FWOOMPH! 

The uniformed-and-goateed man stood on a bench as he addressed the whole party, even though he was already quite tall. “Everyone! Everyone, may I have your attention, please?” he called out. The hushed whispering amongst the partygoers died down as everyone turned to him. 

“I am Chief Constable René, head of the Royal Constabulary Force,” he boasted, gesturing to a golden badge he retrieved from his breast pocket. “I will be leading this investigation from here on out.”

He pointed towards the northern wall of the ballroom. “First, I ask that all residents of Fiddler’s Green please congregate here for the first round of questioning.” 

Then, he pointed towards the western wall. “Next, everyone who rubbed elbows with Sir Woodward tonight is to meet over by the Eastern wall. If you know someone who should be there who isn't, please let me or one of my guards know.” 

Finally, he gestured towards the middle of the ballroom with a palm. “The rest of you, line up in rows near the middle. You may sit down, if you fancy, after my guards check you for any murder weapons.” 

Winn gasped, remembering the just-in-case guns tucked in her dress and Majel’s. “You don’t think they’d—” 

“shut uUuUp…!”Majel said through gritted teeth.  

A man in a teal suit and a blonde but still ugly wig raised a hand in the air. “Pardon me, Constable, but why should we put our trust in you? As you said before, everybody in this room is a suspect, including you and your guards. Shouldn’t a jury be the most logical course of action when administering justice in a situation such as this one?”

The Constable smiled. “What’s your name, sir?” 

“Phineas Everbright,” said the ugly-wig-wearing man.  

“Mr. Everbright is now PRIME SUSPECT NUMBER ONE!” the constable announced. He pointed to the southern wall. “Please stand over there, next to those gentlemen…”

Everbright obliged, sulking to a group of guards that held him at musket-and-bayonetpoint. 

The Constable stepped off his bench, which most people took as a sign that he was finished. All of the guests shuffled to their respective positions, including Winn and Majel. 

“We’ve got to find a way out of here…” Winn whispered. 

“No! That’d just make us look guilty…” Majel whispered back. She waited for a man to pass by before continuing. “What we need to do is find a way to get rid of our pistols without anyone seeing…”

“Ooh, I got it…!” Winn beamed. Before Majel could even reply, the skunk walked up to the Constable. “Monsuier, I seem to be having…” 

She leaned in closer so nobody else but the Constable could hear. “…glandular issues tonight. and was wondering, for the sake of the other guests, if my friend and I could stand somewhere else?” 

The Constable inhaled through his nose and quickly scrunched his face. “V-very well…” he said as his eyes began to water, “W-Wallace, take these two to the Southern wall.” 

“M-me, sir?” Wallace squeaked. 

“That’s an order!” the constable yelled before walking away. “And my gods, make sure they stay there, away from wherever I am!!”  

Winn leaned next to Wallace. “If you do so much as lay a finger on her and moi, I’ll scream to everyone that you just confessed.” 

The guard stood at the dock’s entrance, staring. His partner had boarded a suspicious-looking ship at the end of the pier half an hour ago and never returned. The guard was unsure if he was in any sort of peril—long stretches aboard a vessel could be because of a lengthy bureaucratic process, like checking ship registries and quality inspections.

Although, another possibility could be that his partner was having such a good time on the ship, he abandoned his post.

”Probably started shore leave early and left me behind…” the guard grumbled. “Partyin’ it up on some ship while his partner’s shiverin’ in the fog and bored out of his skull!” 

But what if… 

…what if his partner was actually in danger all along? That would be a reason to leave, wouldn’t it?

He firmly gripped his musket and shuffled down the stone path until he reached the ragged-looking ship. Perhaps his partner was caught in bureaucracy, afterall. The ship was quiet and its flag was burnt and tattered. The officer on deck was wearing a ragged uniform and definitely not following their hygienic laws to boot. 

“Excuse me, but do you know where Ensign Robinson went?” the guard asked.

The ragged officer ignored him, still staring at a wall. 

“Excuse me! Sir?” the guard asked, walking up the ship’s gangplank. “I said, have you—” 

The officer turned around. Bits of ooze flicked from his face and landed at the guard’s feet. The guard looked up in horror to find a decomposing man staring at him—with its remaining eye. 

“Braaains!” the officer yelled, walking towards the guard with his hands stretched outward. 

“Back off! Get away from me!” the guard yelled. He aimed his musket and shot—but he should’ve ran instead. Even though the bullet blew a chunk of the officer’s face off, he still managed to grab the guard by the shirt. 

“Let go of me!” the guard yelled through gnashing teeth. The officer dragged him from the top of the deck to below. There, he saw where Robinson had gone—or, at least, parts of where Robinson had gone. The deck was filled with red-stained zombies feasting. Some of them wore torn-up Navy uniforms, some of them wore threadbare Kodos Konfederation regalia, but most of them wore nothing but rags. The majority of the ghouls, upon seeing the guard, dropped their bits of Robinson to get first dibs on the fresh meat.  

Near the Duke’s castle, two guards looked towards the distance in confusion.  

“First a shot… and now a banshee’s wail…” one said, squinting as he scoped out his island view. 

“Wait…” said the other, “...you don’t think… that could be the murderer striking again, would you?”

The banshee wailed again, echoing from the Festering Wound all the way to the castle. 

“The screams! They’re coming from the docks!” the former guard yelled.

“I knew it! He’s trying to steal a ship and make his escape!” the latter said as he grabbed his musket and ran towards the noise.

“Anybody in here?” D’anna called out to an empty bedroom. “Please say no, we were barely able to close the closet…” she winced. 

Whenever a few seconds went by without a response, she sighed with relief. With the coast clear, she walked into the room and looked around. Two swords were mounted onto the wall, crossed with a coat of arms in the middle. She tried to take one of them, since pirate ships could always use some more swords, but they were reaaally set in place.

The elf gave up and turned her attention elsewhere. She found a fancy pink pearl necklace from a bedside table and smiled. Usually, a pearl necklace would fetch a couple dozen doubloons. Imagine how much a pink one could go for! 

However, her mood faded whenever she turned around and was met with a portrait of a woman. She was wearing a warm expression with the exact same pearl necklace. D’anna’s eyes drifted down the painting, finally landing on an urn beside it. Its label read “LOCKSANA RENÉ” with two dates underneath, separated by forty-five years. The elf groaned and put the necklace back.

“Well, I can’t just leave empty handed…” the elf whined to no one in particular. 

After a bit of searching, she found a small trunk underneath the bed. It shook funnily whenever she moved it—of whatever was inside, she had no idea. D’anna shook it around to try and figure it out, but all that did was cause the lock to jiggle loose. 

“Huh…” she said. Whoever opened this last didn’t bother to lock it. D’anna leaned close to the chest and popped its latches. She only opened it by an inch before a rabid cat leapt out from inside. With a yowl, it latched onto her face, sinking its claws into her cheeks. 

“Whatta load of… argh!” yowled a different cat. She crossed her arms and leaned against the ballroom’s wall. “‘Did you commit a murder? No? Okay, then!’” she said in a mocking voice with an accent similar to the Constable’s. “He didn’t even ask them any follow-ups!” 

“Everyone he’s talked to so far lives in Fiddler’s Green, mon chéri,” Winn said as she re-applied rouge to her lips. “Treatment like that comes with the status! And I ask you, why would the Chief Constable wish to create bad blood with his neighbors?” 

“For justice or something!” Majel muttered. “I mean—look! He’s already almost done talking to the entire Northern wall!” 

Winn rolled her eyes. “For gods’ sake, he’s not going to grill Duke Peregrine like he’s some common street urchin! I’m positive he’ll be more thorough when he gets to guests on our level, as high as it may be…” 

She closed her mirror and pointed accusingly at the cat. “And remember, when he does get to us, stick to our story and don’t try to talk about things you don’t know as if you do!”

“What story might that be, ladies?” the Constable asked. 

Winn was caught off guard—along with her glands.

Cain opened another door, making sure to duck in case there was a second ball of fire. Instead, an arrow shot through the room and lodged itself into Cain’s ribcage with a THUNK!

The skeleton bellowed in agony before wiggling it loose. He made sure to be careful, making sure to not snap it at the crest and leave the tip pierced in his ribs. After pulling it out, the skeleton sputtered. He tried to say something, but failed because he was so pissed off. 

The elf, who was still dabbing her bloody cheeks with a pillowcase, tried to rendezvoused with Cain. After walking up the stairs, she peeked her head through the closest. “Captain? Are you in he—” 

As she opened the door, a string tied to the inside doorknob tightened and pulled down a hanging bookshelf from its hinges. Several hardcover volumes of Sovereign Deeds: Letters to a Nation landed on D’anna. The first book caused the elf to collapse, while the others made sure to keep her down. Once all of the tomes had taken their anger out on her, she began sobbing and rubbing her throbbing head.

“What’s the deal with all that rack—Oh my gods, D’anna!” Cain yelled as he saw the bleeding and heaving elf lying on the floor. “What the hell happened to ye?”

“A-a bookshelf f-fell down on me…!” she cried. “O-one after another, a-all on the… the… top of my head…!” 

Cain put his hands on her head and winced—the bump felt like a kneecap had found its way onto her scalp. “Definitely weren’t paperbacks, that be fer sure…” 

With a bony hand, the Captain helped her up. (It was a difficult task when you weighed around an eighth of the average person.) 

His skull furrowed when he noticed the crimson streaks down her round cheeks. “Looks like ye got nicked, too. Pretty nasty fer a papercut…” 

D’anna sighed. “No, that was before. I opened a chest and a rabid cat took its anger out on me…” 

Cain chuckled. “I’ve been on the receiving end of a rabid cat takin’ out her anger, never fun…” 

He put his hands on his hipbones and looked around. “Aurgh! I say ta hell with this place! The only pillaging I’ve been able to do in this deathtrap is hogtyin’ a bunch of butlers. I say we just cut our losses now.” 

“Aye-aye, Captain…” D’anna muttered. 

The skeleton helped the elf down the stairs, holding her still as she wobbled back and forth. “I think… I need to see Leonard…” she groaned.

“I… don’t think I want ye doin’ that…” Cain said, remembering the “side effects” of the Doctor’s anesthetics. 

Cain helped D’anna through the front door, trying to control the woozy elf’s wooziness. Her ponytail brushed up against a small bell hung next to the doorframe. It produced a faint ringing that the skeleton shrugged off—that is, until it drew the attention of unwanted company. 

As Cain hobbled D’anna across the mansion’s front yard, a thump thump thump thump echoed from the left. It was growing louder and louder until three Dobermans leapt up from behind a shrubbery and began running towards the pirates at full speed. The skeleton pushed the elf out of the way, saving her from being swept up by the hounds. They overtook Cain like stormy waves claiming a vessel, dragging him away to gods-know-where.

“Captain!!” D’anna screamed.

“D’anna!” the skeleton yelled back. He probably would’ve said something a bit more helpful if there weren't 126 razor-sharp teeth simultaneously digging into his bones. 

She tried to run after them, but her world was too kaleidoscopic to even follow a straight line. She collapsed onto the mansion’s front lawn and began to cry again. “C-Captain…!”