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An invisible and painfully tangible force gives Y/N the chills. It’s a hot summer day yet they feel like they’ve plunged into ice-covered winter waters. Swiveling their head to and fro they try to find the source of that frosty sting, but only see the beautiful beach. Clear sky, peach-colored sand, crystal blue waves, and townsfolk enjoying the sun.
“Opps! Sorry, Elliot. I didn’t see you.”
The poetic man gives them a handsome smile. “It’s okay.”
Seeing the bundle of mechanical parts in his arms they ask, “What happened?”
“It’s the strangest thing. I left my cozy abode to go grocery shopping and returned to my home to see my beloved typewriter smashed!”
“Sounds like a serious problem, Elliot.”
Every word from Elliot’s lips is dramatic and Shakespearian. But make no mistake; Elliot is quite a serious person. When something important to him is damaged, his passion bursts forth into righteous anger. A broken typewriter is an aspiring author’s lifeblood!
“A serious problem, indeed!” He’s practically turning red at this point. “My wall shelf had collapsed, leaning askew, and my books had fallen right on top of the typewriter.”
“Had it been wobbly or loose before?”
“No,” he shook his head. “I make sure my bookshelves are sturdy.” He sighed and ran a hand through long golden-brown locks. “I hope that Robin has some spare parts in stock. Or maybe I can ask Maru to fix it. I’ll be out all day, think of all the creatives lyrics that won’t be penned in my absence!” In a hurry, Elliot walks away, leaving Y/N alone once more.
“Y/N!” Alex waved and runs up to them. “Care to join us? Haley and Sam are making sand castles.”
“Sure, I’d love to.”
Alex slings an arm over their shoulder, his smile more dazzling than the sparkly waves. His muscles are strong, creating a curve of protection and safety to anyone lucky enough to be near.
The eerie icy feeling snaps off from their being, and for once Y/N took a deep breath, one full of gritty sand, ocean breeze, and sunshine.
“Hey guys,” they kneel down by hills of sand.
“Y/N, finally! Somebody with some sense!” Sam handed them a shovel, thanking Yoba for releasing him from the screeching and bossy she-demon sitting next to him.
Sand gets blasted in his face and Sam coughs. “Hey! For your in-for-may-shuun, I’m a great artistic visionary. I don’t do the work I just see it –they have construction men like you to do the heavy lifting.” Haley puts her hands on her hips and scowls. “And where’s the mermaid statue, Sam? It’s essential! E-sent-shalll!”
Y/N chuckled at their friendly squabbling. They slowly craft more structures for the sand castle and happily soak in the beautiful day. Nothing better than some sunshine and a day out with friends!
Sam and Y/N reach for the same patch of pretty jewel-like seashells when their two hands meet. Y/N blushed, their brain going radio silent. Sam’s eyes mirror the ocean, light and dark, a depthless sapphire. His hair is slick with salty water and his laughter can brighten up the darkest stormy days. His entire being is a ball of energy, emanating out like a charged battery.
“S-Sorry! I just saw this shell and-”
“It’s okay,” Sam stuttered out. He too, has a pinkish blush to his face.
“Now that’s a castle!” Alex nodded as he observed the miniature fortress. “But it’s missing something.”
“What?”
The sand castle is complete. It has the full range of weaponry and treasure. Cannons, ballista, an outdoor courtyard stamped by seashells for geometric design, a gatehouse, sitting rooms, and the essential mermaid statue (modeled after Haley’s image of course).
Alex smiled smugly. “A king, obviously! What’s a castle without a leader? I’ll be king and I command my subjects to build me a throne out of the finest sand on the beach!”
Sam scoffed but there’s humor to his tone. “You, a king? The kingdom wouldn’t last a day! And I don’t see a crown on your head.”
The muscular jock crossed his arms but he too, couldn’t stifle a wide smile.
“But who will be queen? That’s the important part!” Haley said.
“Be careful Alex,” Y/N joked. “She’ll assassinate you and take your place.”
Sam laughed. “Yeah, she seems the sort to ask for a maiden’s heart in a box –yow!”
Haley gave him a demonic glare and another wave of sand slaps his face.
Alex fake-sighed and rolled his eyes. “What am I going to do with you guys? A court of fools can’t help me stay in power. Y/N’s a farmer! They know all the ins-and-outs of management.”
The golden-haired woman narrowed her eyes at Y/N. “What king would ever want to marry a commoner?”
Y/N rolled their eyes and started a detailed flower garden with Sam outside the castle.
Playfulness glints in Alex’s eyes. He’s bored of building castles and what better amusement than to bug one’s friends? In one movement he throws Y/N over his shoulder, laughing. “Maybe I’ll steal them away and keep them all to myself!”
Haley clicked her tongue. “As if!”
“Yeah, as if Alex!” Sam said. “Y/N is mi –ours!”
Laughing hysterically, Haley and Sam chase Alex across the beach.
Eventually Sam rescued Y/N from Alex. The jock and queen bee leave the beach while Sam and Y/N fell on their beach towels and relaxed. A cooler sits next to them and they crack open fresh drinks. Shutting their eyes, Y/N takes a deep breath and listens to waves crashing onto shore.
The chill came back stronger. Piercing and cold. Y/N quivered and sat up. Sam opened his eyes and mirrored their movement. “What’s wrong? Are you getting a cold?”
“No. I just…” since arriving at the beach they’ve felt like something or someone had been watching them. But Stardew Valley is an isolated and peaceful place. What dangers could there possibly be here?
“C’mon,” Sam stands up and brushed sand off. “I’ll walk you home.”
They stroll through town and up a sloped trail back to (name) farm. Sam stands off the porch, dragging a leg through the dirt. He opens his mouth to say something when a raindrop hits him.
It’s a light drizzle but it’ll soon become a downpour from dark clouds rumbling in the distance.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Y/N smiled. “Yeah. Wanna swing by Gus’ saloon and order a pizza?”
“Hell yeah! I won’t miss that. I’ll order the drinks.” After saying goodbye to the farmer, Sam tries to outrun the oncoming storm.
Sebastian contemplatively stares out into open waters. His black umbrella obscures most of his view. Dense mist rolls in, giving the gigantic ocean and dark sky a wraithlike quality. A rainstorm adds to the macabre theater. Sebastian often visits on rainy days exactly like these to look at the dreary landscape, to be alone with his thoughts.
He looks up when a human-sized shadow darts by his line of sight. It’s hard to tell what or who it is because of the drumming rain that blankets over all other sound, loud or quiet. So, he has to discern the mystery by narrowing his eyes and leaning askance on the dock.
Were two figures out by the other dock? Two smudgy flecks in a violent attack.
Abigail didn’t spend a lot of time in the monster-infested mines for nothing. Even with less muscular strength she used the environment for leverage. She rams into Alex and he goes flying. The slippery old planks make his frantic flailing limbs searching for a foothold a failure, and he falls into shallow waters.
Seeing him fleetingly winded, Abigail leaps on him. The two tussle for a long bitter moment. It’s blind rage versus blind desperation. They crash into deeper waters and Abigail holds Alex down. He maybe a champion of gridball but he certainly can’t use his muscle outside of sports. The purple-haired woman laughs triumphantly, and quickly grabs a weapon, swinging it with scary precision. Like she had done it a thousand times before.
Alex screams and falls back in the salty brine. His last moments are suffused in tremendous fear as Abigail’s eyes glow, a villainous taunting smile as she drowns him. Alex goes limp and hearing someone running, the woman flees to the woods behind the beach.
Sebastian gulps down air when he skids to a stop at the other side of the beach. He freezes in horror when he sees a familiar varsity jacket drenched in murky crimson. Alex’s corpse is bobbing in the water. Sebastian ignores his lungs constricting painfully from the run earlier and hooves it back to town, shouting for help.
A rooster’s call signals a new dawn. The icy rain from the night before is now light and glistening like a frozen tear. Holding a cup of [tea/coffee], Y/N yawned and slowly ate breakfast. At least the crops would already be watered.
They go outside and skip down creaky wooden planks and land next to the mailbox. Maybe Evelyn sent over a new baking recipe or there was another advertisement for the local grocery store.
Y/N stopped dead in their tracks when they noticed a disgusting stench leaking out from the mailbox. They gagged and braced themselves to open the door. On the count of three they yank it open and –scream until their face turns blue-purple.
Inside is a blood-soaked flower bouquet along with two severed arms sticking out at jagged angles. Like some morbid art piece. The once-beautiful flowers and sentimentality of said gift only cements deep fear in the farmer. Blood trickles down into a red waterfall and all they can do is fall back, and cry at the gift.
Mayor Lewis, who checks the shipment bins every day, sees Y/N fall over and runs up to help. He thinks that they had fallen from fatigue but when he gets to the mailbox, he also looks at it agape horror.
A town meeting is quickly called. Elliot, Sebastian, Haley, Sam, Abigail, Y/N, Lewis, and Marlon enter Gus’ saloon. The air is dense and stifling. Emily serves them drinks and a meal. Sebastian and Y/N recounted what they saw.
Sebastian’s eyes go cloudy and dark. He craves a cigarette but can’t smoke in the saloon. He’s thrown back unwillingly back to yesterday night. Seeing Alex’s body, somebody who was so strong and a showoff, be killed so easily. It doesn’t make any sense.
Haley noisily wailed and blew her nose on a tissue. “Alex! Who could have killed him?!”
Sam wiped his tears with a jacket sleeve. His eyes are red and puffy.
Y/N feels mournful, their face pale and flinty like a tombstone.
Abigail twirls a lock of long purple hair with a finger, her black lips soured in a pout. Who cares about a selfish jock anyway? And why is Y/N so sad? It took a lot of work to get the bouquet just right, they should be jumping with joy! Everybody knows the significance of a flower bouquet. Why aren’t they running into my arms already?!
“At first I thought it was a monster when Sebastian described the scene,” Marlon’s rugged eyes crinkled morosely. “But when I went over to observe the mailbox I knew it had to have been a human that murdered Alex. Monsters are violent but they don’t have the forethought to stuff a person’s limbs in a mailbox.”
“I can’t believe it,” Lewis voice trembled. “We have a murderer in the valley.”
Sebastian looked over his shoulder at Marlon and asked, “Couldn’t you ask Pierre who bought flower bouquets? Murder solved.”
“I did ask him. No one’s bought a flower bouquet in weeks.”
Hope fizzled out at that. Everyone sits there in uneasy silence.
Lewis lowered his head, feeling like a lousy mayor. They can’t bring Alex back, or console a depressed Evelyn, but they can try and stop another murder. “I’ll establish a curfew. Marlon? Could you set up a patrol?”
The greyed adventurer nodded. “Will do. I’ll get Robin and Harvey to help. Some volunteers of the guild will arrive here by tomorrow.”
The saloon door swings open and Sebastian steps out. He leans against the brick wall and shakily grabs a cigarette and lighter. A long drag dampens the fear, if only slightly. But like a wounded, frightened animal, he’s afraid of running into the killer.
Sam exits next and jogs over to his morose friend. “You okay, Seb?”
“I’ll be fine, Sam.” And here Sam was, comforting his best friend who was never really close to Alex. Sebastian should be the one to comfort Sam, but he was never one to be emotional.
Y/N leaves and Sam turns to look at them and then back at Sebastian. The dark-haired man waves, the cigarette smoke whirling like a curtain as he did so. “Go on, Sam. You need each other. I’ll be okay. I got a full pack to keep me company,” he waved the small box in the other hand.
Sam smiled, a silent thanks, before running over to Y/N and walking them home.
Crickets and owls chirp as evening slowly dyes the sunset sky a dark inky blue. Sebastian climbs up the hill back home when he sees Linus picking berries. The dark-haired man gives the nomad a nod and goes to enter his house when Linus walks over.
Linus’ eyes are troubled, his thick brows furrowed, the lines in his face crease in worry.
“What’s up, man?”
The elderly nomad tilts his basket forward, showing Sebastian a collection of tools he’s lost over the past season. In a hushed tone Linus says, “I found these while foraging. Someone entered your garage yesterday while it was raining.”
That’s strange. If someone was trying to break in, the alarm system Demetrius installed should’ve triggered. The rain would’ve erased any footprints or signs from the intruder too. Sebastian thanked Linus for finding his lost tools and decided it to be very vital to check his motorcycle for any tampering.
Back at the farm, a sunset slowly falls over the field below. Y/N thanks Sam for walking them home and is about to step inside when he says, “I like you, Y/N.”
They spin around. Their heart thuds loudly in their chest. “What?”
“I like you, Y/N. I don’t want to see anyone else get hurt, and if the killer kills us I wanted to tell you how I felt before either of us got a knife in the heart. I’ll do everything I can to protect you!” His voice trembles and tears sting his eyes. “I don’t want to see you die!”
Fluttery mushy emotions make Y/N feel like their legs are moved by clouds and they hug Sam. His warmth is comforting and they’re afraid to let go. Like he’d disappear the instant that they do. “I like you too, Sam. I don’t want to lose you either!”
Eventually, they had to depart. Sam took a longer time walking back to town, seeing Y/N’s red puffy face streaked with tears shrinking and shrinking as he left. The stifling still air suddenly was sliced by a gust. With it left a lingering icy feeling, so Y/N hurried inside and locked their door.
Y/N wiped their brow, done with another day’s work of farming. Crops were watered, items shipped, lumber chopped and neatly stacked, and weeds pulled. They throw their farming tools in a storage chest and start to head over to town to meet Sebastian and Sam, when Y/N hears a scary scream coming from the mountains.
Y/N froze, wondering who it could be. It sounded like Sebastian.
Metal meets flesh. It sinks deep, like knife to butter. Pain stuns Y/N’s body and they fall over, a scream sealed in their throats. Vision blurring, they can’t see who’s standing above them. They can’t move, scream, or call for help. They are stricken by extreme fear as darkness curtains their eyes.
“Hold still, will you? Or your arm will fall off and the wound will reopen. I can’t have you bleed out.” Abigail’s hand draws wounds close with needle and thread. Y/N watches her stitch the injuries in numb shock. Somehow, they hardly even feel it.
The purple-haired woman smiles and cheers. “It worked! How do you feel, Y/N?”
Something’s wrong. The icy chill. Once it was weak and often vanished the moment Y/N was back on the farm. But now? If not weakened by their wounds, Y/N would’ve been trembling, as if they had been submerged in icy water.
“Hmmm, was the mixture I made too strong?”
Out of the murky depths of a befuddled mind, it all finally clicked. Abigail is the murderer.
But Y/N’s arms and legs felt like jelly, there’s no way they could try to run.
The woman twirled a lock of [color] hair, smiling at her crush. “It took forever to create the potion. I had to steal a bunch of flowers from your farm and gather crystals from the mines. I turned those into a powder, mixed them together, and sprinkled it in your crops. It weakened you enough so that I could drag you inside.”
Her face darkened suddenly, her pretty eyes brimming with jealousy. Her black lips are set in a firm line. “Why didn’t you like the gift I made you? Don’t you see how much I love you?”
“The bouquet.”
Abigail sighed. “Yes, the bouquet! It really hurt, you know? It hurt! And then Sam with his shitty brighter-than-the-fucking-blinding-sun personality had to steal you away from me! You’re supposed to love me!”
Then Abigail relaxed, her hand stroking [long/short] [color] hair as if she hadn’t just had a terrifying meltdown. She smiled sweetly, humming a tune. “I guess you thought I was with Seb, right? I did like him but when you moved to the valley I knew that you and I were grave-mates. Lovers to be together for eternity –and in the afterlife.”
Her eyes darkened. “I don’t know why they couldn’t understand that you are mine and mine alone. They obviously don’t get what true love is. So, I cut them down like the traitorous [girlfriend/boyfriend]-stealers that they are. I summoned a monster from my spell book and found Robin’s lost axe in the woods.”
Eerie happiness glows on Abigail’s face. “I’m sorry I couldn’t show you how much I love you, but now we have all the time in the world! Look,” she points to Y/N’s arm. With Robin’s axe she had struck their side and part of their arm that had been nearly hewn in half. The stitches flicker faintly under light, like an Omni Geode. The stitches snake their way up the arm and form a sigil on the palm.
“I made it myself! If you walk off the farm, you’ll be stunned with a curse. It’ll be painful, and the curses aren’t easy to lift.” Abigail sees the rebellious glint in [color] eyes and her smile fades to a cynical one. She stands and grabs the bloody axe she stashed in the farmhouse. “I got you a gift, but it isn’t finished.”
With a flick of an arm a bag drops down. Inside is a bag of blood and severed limbs. Y/N stares, terrified, at the dismembered townsfolk. “If you try to leave and somehow break the magic stitches, I could just drag you back in pieces. I’m sure my spell book has something that can reattach your limbs.”
Y/N’s face blanched. They wondered if Marlon and his adventurers could save them. But Abigail had a solution for any rescuers. “They’d need an army to get through. I placed stones and drew symbols on them that’ll spawn monsters to attack any intruders. If anyone steps foot upon the farm, they’ll become monster food.” Abigail put the axe down and smiled. “Now, that potion will wear off soon. I’ll make us some food and then feed the bag of limbs to the monsters. What should we do afterwords? Whatever it is, I’m happy it’ll be us two, living a cozy cottage life together.”