Chapter Text
There was a corpse in the garden of the Oletus Manor.
It appeared on a beautiful day, as beautiful as any other day in this reclusive place, detached from the outside world. It nestled between the flowerpots and the scarecrow, as if it had always existed there, a part of this household.
Naturally, the first to discover this anomaly was the Gardener.
She was doing her routine check at the garden, something she took upon herself per her profession. Everyone in this manor had some kind of routine, something to remind them of the human they used to be, before they were puppets being played on strings in this unending game.
Emma Woods - or was it her true name, many have wondered - was nonchalantly greeting her beloved flowers when reality gave her a harsh shove.
The corpse appeared before her, no more remarkable than a tall plant or a pot of sunflowers. Had it been anyone else, Emma Woods would have ignored it completely. A corpse or two, it wasn't something she was not familiar with.
But there was something she would never be familiar with, and that was the death of a loved one.
She dropped her toolbox before that insignificant sight, her hands trembled, her eyes wide open. The name on the tip of her tongue. She moved closer, closer, from arm's length to enough to embrace the corpse.
The neck twitch, and that was the last straw on her back. Screams erupted from her dainty mouth, one so visceral and raw it was hard to imagine came from such a lady.
Before her was a corpse that bear the face of Emily Dyer.
"What happened?"
The first to rush to her rescue was, as expected, a rescuer. William Ellis busted into the garden, hand still holding on his breakfast. His head whirled one direction to another in hope to find someone he could help. His eyes landed on the Gardener sobbing and screaming on the ground.
"Emma? Emma! What's wrong?"
He rushed to the girl's side and tried to hold her back. The girl's hand was clawing on her face where blood clotted and dyed her fingers crimson. Pain upon pain assaulted her, and physical or mental, it failed to bring her back to reality.
"Stop. Stop it! Don't hurt yourself! What in the world is - "
The words were swallowed in his throat when he finally saw the additional decoration to the garden. Once again, the corpse was a sidetrack, a mere ordinary thing that was not of any concern to the participants of this manor, those who were familiar with death, or had become the furthest thing away from it.
The only remarkable thing was the face it bared.
"How? There's no way."
William Ellis was not in denial. He feared ghost, demons and the like, but he feared not what he could see. He muttered so because it was a truth that could be proven' there was no way.
"Ms. Woods? What is going on?"
The voice made the two shuddered, and they turned around simultaneously, like a comedy duo waiting for the other shoes to drop so the show could continue.
Emily Dyer stood before them, her pristine white attire and blue shawl undeterred by the grimy atmosphere. She saw Emma crouching and face drawing blood, saw William with one hand on the poor girl's back, and once again ignored the presence of the corpse.
Emma wriggled out of William's grasp and rushed to her beloved's side. She made a beeline foe Emily, so fast that they almost lost their balance altogether. The Doctor managed to help them steady while listening to the sob of the normally headstrong Gardener.
"Emily! Emily, you're alive. You're alive. I was so, so...."
Voices faltered to sobs, and Emma buried her head on the Doctor's shoulder, reveling in the fact the Emily was still alive.
"I am alive? Of course I am, Ms. Woods. What is going on?"
She looked to William for answer, and he could do nothing more but glanced at the bizarre thing on his side.
The other members of the manor started crowding around the garden's door. They talked and gossiped and gasped and some even whistled. The dull manor had finally brought them some mystery befitting its name.
There was a corpse in the garden, but none of them had died.
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"Quite fascinating, indeed."
Aesop Carl, the Embalmer, muttered under his mask. Normal people will see that line as excitement, but the veterans of this manor could tell the confusion in his voice.
The corpse had been delivered to the secondary infirmary, courtesy to a very reluctant and disgruntled Forward, who would absolutely love nothing to do with the dead. Joining him in the room was the First Officer, Jose Baden, and the Psychologist, Ada Mesmer. They were not the most qualified personnels for an autopsy, but the resident Doctor's attention was a bit occupied.
"Discolored skin. Bloated parts of the body. If we could examine her inside, we probably could see water filled lungs. Clear signs of drowning, my fellows."
"Her clothes are dry." Aesop remarked.
"True, but I doubt a corpse suddenly emerged out of nowhere would stick with consistency."
Her dry clothes, in fact, was important, but to what extent, they did not know.
The psychologist examined the outfit: black shirt and pants wrapped around the body, a dark hat that resembled one that was worn by the terror of the sea. A pouch full of sea flora. The corpse dressed as a woman of the sea, and they would not be surprised if she indeed died by its hand.
"You don't think she drowned at the Lakeside Village?" Ada Mesmer asked. She was a newer member of the manor, and not quite aware of its rules and regulations.
"No, no, Mrs. Mesmer. The maps are merely recreations of existing places, meant to torment us with our pasts." Jose's eyes darkened at the mention of the village. "We are unable to enter the sea physically. It would be hard to drown a person there."
"So there is a possibility that she drowned here, in this manor."
"...You are not wrong."
The implication was not lost on the two men. Ada was suggesting that there was a murderer walking among them.
Jose almost chuckled at that thought, and Aesop was not at all fazed. The past of the residents of the Manor was not a secret: everyone here knew what each person was capable of. But they had always casted that pasts aside for a greater goal: winning against the Hunters. Survivors could not escape alone, and they had many reasons to want to win. More furniture to the room, or some rare delicacies, perhaps. Or more rights to demand a real reward from the Lord of the Manor.
Besides, death had never been an obstacle to them.
"Let's wrap up." Aesop finally spoke again. "We should report our findings sooner rather than later.”
"Why the rush, Carl? Shouldn't we investigate more?"
"That can wait, Officer." The Embalmer tidied up his kit and draped a blanket over the corpse. "I'm afraid there would be discord should we not intervene."
"Should we at least move her to a morgue?" Ada suggested.
The men stared at her for a while before the suggestion registered.
"Mrs. Mesmer. We have no need for a morgue in this place."
"I would love to have one." Aesop chimed in nonchalantly. Being around a corpse seemed to bring out the more chipper side of the man. "Seeing we had at least one occupier."
Ada Mesmer stared incredulously at the two men. Her experience told her that based on their reaction, this manor held much more troubles than she had the chances to witness.
She hoped Emil did not get into any when she was away.
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The dining room was heated, not only by the flame in the stove, but also by the discussions between very enthusiastic parties: The sceptics, the peace coordinator, and the trouble stirrer. They gathered at the long table and separated into two sides.
“Obviously, we have a murder on our hands.” Representative of the sceptics was none other than Freddy Riley, the Lawyer, who arguably did have some authority in this incident. He proudly looked around the table, challenging anyone who dared to say otherwise.
“We’re not sure if it’s a murder yet, Mr. Riley.” Standing up for the peace is the Coordinator, Martha Behamfil, who glared disapprovingly at Freddy. She did not appreciate any unwarranted chaos to this side of the Manor, if possible.
“That body was bloated with water, Martha Behamfil, or are you blind already?”
“I just said it was too early to conclude in a murder.”
“And what else would it be? Some casual drowning in the middle of the earth?”
Their gazes bored through each other’s skull, enough to kill a passerby with ill heart.
“Riley does have a point.” Servais Le Roy, the Magician, spoke up to break the tension. “Let’s assume it’s not a murder. Why would that corpse be in the garden all of a sudden? Someone must have moved it there.”
“Exactly! I knew you would see sense, Le Roy.”
“Even so” Margaretha Zelle, the Dancer, reluctantly raised her head. “Why there? The garden is a popular place. Hiding a corpse there would make the crime meaningless.”
“Miss Zelle has a point. There is no logic in placing the corpse there.”
“Well, why not? What if that is the point?” Freddy sneered at the opposing party. He might be specialized in property and finance cases, but that did not mean he hadn’t worked with murderers before.
“What if whoever killed that girl want us to know they exist?”
That question hung heavy in the air. No one truly wanted to answer. For years they have coexisted in this manor, gaining what could be called camaraderie, however flimsy it was. To think that someone would show their true nature in this manor no less, was difficult.
Or maybe the right word they were trying to find was not show, but live.
“I notice some of us are absent from this meeting. Maybe they felt guilty, eh? Or scared of their punishment? Or gleeful to see us squirm like idiots?”
Freddy’s words were grating in their ears, but none interrupted him. Maybe they saw sense in his words, or simply relieved that they were not the targets of suspicion yet.
“I know trouble when I see them. That mercenary, or that brooding Prospector.”
“Or maybe it’s you, Mr. Lawyer!!”
Both sides jumped as the sudden accusation knocked the wind out of the Lawyer. So heated in their discussion, they neglected the presence of the third party.
“What, what insolence did you just say, Kreacher Pierson?”
“I, I said, it’s you!” Kreacher Pierson, the Thief, flailed his flashlight around like a bear trying to intimidate its prey. “How do you even know so well why the corpse is there, huh? Only a criminal think like that! Maybe you did it and then try to blame it on us good guys!”
“You fool, you bollocks. You think I would do something so, so foolish?”
“So you do think it’s foolish?” Martha wasted no time on her quip.
“Anyway!” Freddy whirled his attention to Kreacher, “I will not tolerate that from someone as dimwitted as you, Kreacher Pierson. Did you do it? A street rat like you would feel no remorse about it.”
“K-Kreacher may be poor, but he was a decent man. I would never step so low, not like someone!”
“What are you implying?”
“I mean, pretty clear what he is implying, yeah?” Patricia Dorval snorted from the side. She was promptly on Kreacher’s opinion, if only to stir the pot even further. “Everyone kind of know what you did to a certain Hunter.”
“Oh, we are accusing over our pasts now? I thought you deny yours whenever we spoke of you, Patricia Dorval.”
“I do so because of pretentious jerks like you, Riley.” The Enchantress sighed. “And who just accused our brooding duo based on their past five minutes ago? Or are you senile?”
“You!”
Once again, the volcano erupted, and arguments were thrown across the room like flying squirrels. The Lawyer and Thief was close to brawling. Their respective fellows hurled around theories with no regard to anyone’s opinion. The smartasses with their unhelpful knowledge could not keep their mouth shut. The peaceful tried to intervene, but only intensify the situation.
All of this was too overstimulated for Helena Addams, The Minds Eye. She was unfortunate with her sight but blessed with her hearing. However, that blessing proved to be a bane when multiple voices blended into an unharmonized cacophony of hullabaloo, and she could tolerate it no longer.
With a thud, her cane slammed onto the ground. The sound traveled through the floor to the eardrum of her companions, to the footsteps approaching the dining room. Silence engulfed the room for a brief moment, everyone too stunned by the sudden sensitivity, and Helena let out a small sigh.
“I’m sorry. But I don’t think this would get us anywhere.” She glanced at the faces staring at her, guilt started to climb on her shoulders for forcing them to feel her demise. Her senses tingled in the horror of being in the center of attention, and she frantically searched for an ally.
“Right, Mrs. Plinius?”
The Entomologist flinched a little when her name was called upon. She had not plan to be a part of the commotion, and her presence was almost forgotten amidst the chaos. Unfortunately, the Minds Eye prided herself on reading people without need of their appearance, and the Entomologist – her head concealed as it was - could not escape that inquisitive insight.
“…I do believe we are straying away from the problem.” Melly sighed, though hers was masked by the literal beehive around her head. She wished not to converse, especially with hot-headed people who did not share her view. She would much prefer to be left alone in the company if her insects, but in this manor, being a recluse was a luxury.
“Whether that lady was killed or not, how she got in here, or why she was displayed there. They are not relevant now. I believe the real question is: why does she bear that face?”
At this question, the survivors wordlessly turned to the door lead to the Main Room, where the two ladies had excused themselves.
The footsteps that they heard a moment ago now echoed louder then finally ended with the creak of the open door.
“You all are surprisingly quiet.” Jose remarked upon entering the room. He joined the company of his closest friend, the Cowboy and the Barmaid, while Aesop excused himself to a chair at the top of the table, away from the hubbub. Ada resumed her place beside Emil, who was basically a mute without his caretaker around.
“Finally. You can’t believe how close we were to rampage.” Kevin Ayuso clapped his buddy’s shoulder hard. “What did you find? Hopefully something good?”
“Something enlightening, I can tell you that.”
They relayed the information to the whole party, with some minor detail about her clothing supported by Ada. This left the case with more questions than answers. The victim was drowned, dressed like a pirate, and wear the same face as one of their friends. Having pirates in such tacky clothes in our holy decades of 1890s was one thing, but the face, on the other hand.
“Any chance she wore a mask? Or somehow alter her face into that of Dyer’s?” Tracy Reznik, the Mechanic, offered her thought. “Like how I craft different faces for my puppets.”
“Human skins are not of the same texture.” Aesop murmured, yet his words were heard by all. “There are methods to alter one’s appearance, but none of them are acceptable in the medical field. The risks were too high and results not desirable enough. If you’re desperate enough, a quack could probably help you for an exorbitant price, but I doubt you would have the exact same face.” Aesop shook his head, as if the idea itself was absurd. The Embalmer was surprisingly talkative, and the survivors of the manor listened with intense interest. The secretive in this manor were the most dangerous, and no one would pass the chance of knowing more, allies or not.
“I do not recommend them.” Aesop heaved a sigh. “Everyone would look beautiful in the hands of death. There’s no need for you to change your appearance.”
“Aaaand we have checked her face thoroughly.” The First Officer interrupted, if only to steer the dangerous atmosphere away. “Not a mask, no sign of stitches or weird muscle. I’m very sure her face was her own.”
“He’s…not actually wrong.” Andrew Kreiss reluctantly raised his hand. “To damage your body is against the teaching of God.”
“Yes, yes, my friend. But let us focus on the more imminent thing, all right? A corpse, a bizarre circumstance, a lot of doubt. Let’s focus on that.”
The survivors gratefully followed Jose’s awkward change of topic, but they also could not shake off the mystery of the surprised corpse, now that more clues have been found.
Did Emily Dyer suddenly grow a pirate twin who found her way into this manor and died? That sentence alone contained many impossibilities. Firstly, they were made aware of Emily’s life before joining the Manor, the same as any other participants, and even if some information was hidden, there was no doubt she had no family left.
Secondly, any newcomers will be introduced formally by Nightingale before allowed a room. Had this been a normal manor, a pirate may have stowed her way inside and boiled up a murder mystery for them to solve, but the Oletus Manor was no mere place.
This place was cursed, haunted, blessed, bestowed, a playground of the beings above, a purgatory for the sinners, a Heaven for the deranged. The title differed based on who you asked, but one thing this manor was not was normal.
Logically, that meant no one could sneak inside without them knowing.
Thirdly, -
“I do think we are too wrapped up in this little mystery.” Fiona Gilman, the Priestess, elegantly walked to the middle of the table where everyone could hear her. “Boredom must have gone to us, for we all forget the protection of our Lord.”
“What are you getting at, cultist?” Servais scoffed. Fiona did not bat an eye at him.
“Have you all, for one moment of adventure and thrill, forget the fundamentals of this place?” She opened her arms wide, as if wishing to embrace the manor into her heart. “We cannot die.”
She was met with silence, not in disbelief or skepticism, but with contemplation. It was a fact that they had casted aside, in favor of the sweet, refreshing thrill that was a mystery to shake up their dull lives.
Ada and Emil, on the other hand, was filled with confusion.
“What is the meaning of that?”
“Ah, right. Mr. and Mrs. Mesmer, you have only been in two games, right?” Mike Morton, the Acrobat, chimed up. It was finally a question that he had an answer for. “Was anyone left behind? Didn’t they tell you anything beforehand?”
“No, our two matches ended with everyone escaping.”
“You’re lucky!” Mike laughed. “It would have been painful otherwise.”
“Would we die if we were left behind?” Ada cautiously asked.
“That’s the catch! We are supposed to.” Mike nodded his head, pretending to be a wise scholar. “But we won’t. The Hunters can kill us, maim us, tear us from limbs to limbs, and we will still live. Our injuries will heal when we’re transported back here. Heck, we can’t even get hurt for longer than hours if we try.”
Seeing the doubt in the Psychologist’s eyes, Patricia took Mike’s place as the center of attention and pulled out her dagger. She dug the tip of the knife on her palm, blood bloomed from the wound like flowers. She let the blood ran freely, and after an uncomfortable moment, the wound started to close, the skin roughed, then smooth, and blood crumbled into dust.
Emil gasped at the marvelous sight. Ada gasped in horror.
“As you can see. We can’t be hurt. Not for long.” Patricia shook her hand so the feeling could return to her sense. “Should have read that contract before you accept the deal.”
“But then.” The Psychologist forced herself to be logical. “How do you explain the presence of a corpse?”
“Who knows? But we finally have something exciting to do. I bet it’s a puzzle from the Lord of the Manor himself.” Lucky, who so far had refrained from giving his piece of mind, finally stood up. His sentiment was a little disturbing, but there was no doubt that his suggestion remained the most believable out of all the theories that have been put out.
“True enough.” Martha raised her hand, internally glad for an olive branch towards something less unnerving. “This could also be a ploy from the Lord. Before we jump to conclusion and start yelling bloody insults anymore, we should have a talk with him.”
“How?” Kurt Frank, the Explorer, asked. “Now, I would love to meet that man and probe his mind, but we have never seen him in the flesh, no?”
“We can always talk to him through Nightingale. She can -”
“Yeah, you might want to put a raincheck on that.”
A different set of footsteps, combined with voices that were missing from the discussion so far interrupted the Coordinator. The missing party had arrived in the form of the quiet group: the Seer, Eli Clark, the Mercenary, Naib Subedar, and the Prospector, Norton Campbell. They sauntered in without regard of the strained air, headed straight for the food, and gave no explanation to the bombshell that they just dropped.
Jose coughed aloud to gain the three’s attention.
“Apologies, gentlemen. We would very appreciate if you elaborated on that.”
They glanced at each other, then wordlessly decided that the most eloquent one should talk. Eli swallowed his piece of bread and speak, but not before giving one to his owl.
“We visited Nightingale’s office when the news broke.” Eli said, clearly referring to the brief moment of commotion when everyone was either too confused or too excited to handle the situation.
“The door was locked. We called for her, over, over and over, but she never responded. Not even a message left like normal.”
“So we broke in.” Naib nonchalantly added.
“What?” Several voices shouted at the same time, the most prominent belonged to Martha Behamfil.
“Ah, calm your gun. This was an emergency. If the rule suddenly got evoked and we can die here now, then I sure as hell would want to know before any of you folks.”
He was being vague, but his eyes were trained on the more emotional members of the survivors: the one with potential to be dangerous. How unfortunate that so many of them were dictated by emotions.
“We broke down the door.” Norton continued. “She wasn’t there. Nothing was there.”
“Nothing? Not her belongings, not her shop, nothing?” Martha asked.
“Anything that tells you she lived there is gone. The shop is intact. Can’t raid it without spending money though.” He clicked his tongue in annoyance.
Nightingale, the bridge between the participants and the Lord of the Manor, had disappeared without a trace. And gone with her were answers to the bubbling doubts and questions around the sudden death of a person who was not meant to be here.
With Nightingale’s disappearance, the survivors decided to halt their investigation for the day. With the chance of the rules of the manor being shaken in some shape or form, excitement over the case dwindled. Not as much as a burning desire, but fizzled to an ember waiting for logs.
They kept the corpse in the secondary infirmary. Aesop had insisted that the body stayed whole until the mystery was solved. They wrapped the corpse in protective layers and moved her to the corner away from sight, much to the chagrin William, who got roped into transferring not once, but twice.
Meanwhile, in the Main Room, the two ladies still huddled together. They were physically close, yet their minds couldn’t be further away from each other.
“Emily?”
“Yes, Ms. Woods. I’m here.”
“Please. Don’t leave me. Don’t become like that.”
“I won’t.” Emily whispered. With a voice so small none but those within her reach could hear, she added. “I will always be with you, Lisa.”
Emma smiled happily at the reassurance, but Emily’s heart was in turmoil.
The moment her eyes landed on that corpse, something flashed before the Doctor’s eyes. The roaring sea, the punishing thunder, glimmering treasure at the bottom of the ocean, black flags in the air, an angry golden Captain charging at her.
It was not something that she had seen before, yet those imaged lodged into her heart, carved into her brain, as vivid as the warmth beside her. Emily Dyer sat there on the sofa, bewildered.
The soft fabric and the warmth clinging to her arm. The cold salt water and wind thrashing at her face. At that moment, she did not know which was real, and which was illusion.
She looked down at her partner only to see a lifeless body clad in black looked up, black flags on her hat, lifeless eyes on her face. She jolted.
“Emily?”
“I’m…I’m a little tired.” She pushed herself away from the sofa. “Let’s get some rest. I’ll walk you back to your room.”
Hands in hands, they walked hurriedly through the elaborate halls to the bedroom quarter. The Doctor promptly avoided looking at either her companion, or the haunting corner where a doppelganger of hers resided.
The next morning came with a refreshing breeze and glaring sunlight. The sound of animals echoed throughout the backyard, despite no other animal but the participants were here.
Light danced through the veil of cloud, engulfing the ground, the flowerpots, and the second corpse nestled between the bushes.
A second corpse had appeared in the manor, yet none of them had died.