Work Text:
St. Louis, Missouri
Edgar Allen Poe
It was a dreary, harsh, freezing night, as was normal for the Midwestern season of the United States. Neighbors had called the authorities on a family of 5 – 2 parents, 3 children. The Shelley’s. Reports said there was a flash of blinding light and eerie shadows moving about the 2-story suburban home. Shrieks of bloody murder and terror ensued. The parents, William and Mary, were found dead the next morning. Their bodies were sprawled across the living room. Blood adorned the walls and floor, leaving a horrid sight for anyone who dared to look upon it.
This is where I, a world famous detective–Edgar Allen Poe–came into play. Two of the children were nowhere to be seen, still missing to this day. So, I spoke with the younger daughter. Mary Shelley. When I found her, she was shaking and mumbling incoherently. She only noticed me when I reached out my hand to her.
I have to admit to you, dear reader. I was skeptical of her at the beginning of our relationship. This was not without cause, for I was of the impression that she was the murderer of her own parents.
“When you’re ready, I need you to tell me everything,” I looked at her with an expression that was cold as ice.
I know I was wrong! I regret it with all my heart! Oh, how I wanted to tell Ranpo right away! But I am getting ahead of myself. Eventually, she mustered up the courage to tell me everything from her perspective.
Her parents were murdered—but not by her hands. Someone else had dreadfully assassinated her eccentric, but loving parental figures. According to Mary, a dreadful feeling came over her as her parents rose from their eternal slumber. Their eyes glowed of bright amber. They mumbled incoherently, grabbing kitchen knives and other dangerous objects. Somehow, Mary survived the whole deal. I will not attempt to describe the terror–one thing I am so very brilliant at. I admit, however, that I told Ranpo right after the ordeal.
“You’re not going to put me into a special ability prison, are you?” She gazed up at me with pleading eyes.
She looked like a dog begging for pets. So naturally, I hugged her.
“No. No I’m not. I would never.”
I had just met this girl! I don’t know why I hugged her, but she needed it. She was sobbing and hyperventilating, for God’s sake. I needed to write a novel for this child.
When she was (finally) done crying in my arms, I made her an offer: come work with me at the Guild and help me solve mysteries. She would live with me in my mansion. I had plenty of extra rooms for Ranpo. She could use one without any fuss. I admit, the pay was a measly $1 million a month, but she never paid rent upon my declaration.
And so, here we are. I have groomed Mary into hating Ranpo as much as I do, of course. It is only natural that my protégé adopts the same rival as I. However, she cannot help but smile when I tell her about Ranpo’s endeavors. She said that we are ‘meant for each other’ and how we are an ‘old married couple’. What she means by those terms, I do not know. Kids these days make up the wackiest things.
One day, my prodigy and heir to my estate came to me with a request: help me with my architecture projects instead of criminal justice. Of course, I never had a problem with it. She had dug through my collection about Gothic, Roman, and Greek buildings, learning a lot in the process. She has helped me with the reconstruction process in Yokohama, Japan. She benefited me a lot, as I was scoping out for Ranpo. She even got us a reservation at the fanciest restaurant in the city, just so I could have a lengthy conversation with him!
Where was I? Oh. I’m rambling. I’ll stop. My bad.