Chapter Text
"Hey, boss!" Fernald pushed the door open and waved the latest edition of The Daily Punctilio he was holding. Learning to hold a newspaper with his hook had taken him a while. "Have you seen the review? We were marvelous! You -"
The newspaper slid from his hook and landed on the floor of Count Olaf's tower room amid scraps of paper and empty wine bottles. Olaf was lying on the floor, eyes closed and ghostly pale. His arms were stretched out before him, his fingers bent to claws.
"Boss, why do you keep doing this? We were going to celebrate!"
Olaf didn't move. Only now, Fernald spotted the blood and splinters under his fingernails. All around him, fresh marks had been scratched into the wooden floor. They were sloppy, but he recognized the eye insignias at once.