Chapter Text
It was a beautiful day in Paris. A beautiful day at College Francoise-Dupont. Only a handful of students and a couple faculty were present to work on a student film. The school loved student films. Why, this was their fourth this year alone! Most of the students belonged to Mme Bustier’s class, but a few were from Mlle Mendeleiev’s class. Besides them, Principal Damocles and Mme Bustier were both present as well.
Things had been tense in the superhero scene as of late, and the students were all well aware. Even the ones that weren’t secretly recruited to fight Hawkmoth knew about the events of Miracle Queen, and the more recent events of Queen Banana. Chloé had become a pariah at school, even more so than previously. The girl had been sullen, with even her minion Sabrina drifting away.
And yet, she was still at the school, and still participating in yet another student film.
Max was editing previously shot scenes, adding in effects and clearing out visual and audio inconsistencies. This was below his own maximum, but it made for a good palate cleanser for what he had planned for the night. It was rote, but delightfully simple. Still, he couldn’t help but keep an eye on everyone as they went about their roles. His crimes were not of the petty sort, and he relished in that.
Alya was writing the script, pouring just a little bit of her own soul into her work. All to distract herself from her own urges. She worried a bit as well. Her best friend was Ladybug, after all, and there was so much out there, so much danger. She itched. Her fingers twitched, and she sent them flying across her keyboard as a distraction from where she wanted to use them.
Zoe was a consummate actress. She played her roles to perfection. Her own role, the one she crafted herself, was pitch perfect. No one knew the real her, nor her past, and she will keep it that way, at any cost. For her past and talents were a dangerous sort, and there were dangerous people looking for her.
They, along with everyone else, crafted a new piece of art, a new film. And just as it neared completion, the lights went out. And when it came back on, someone was dead.
Murdered.
Name: Alya Césaire
Detective Style: Journalist, No Priority
Personality Traits: Brave, Loyal, Dark Passenger, Chameleon
Skills and Abilities: Blogger, Writer, Savvy, Mixed Martial Arts, Serial Killing, Evidence Disposal
Affiliations: Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Ladybug, Adrien Agreste, Nino Lahiffe
—
Voters chose: Alya, Max, and Chloé (tie)
New vote:
Voters chose: Chloé, Alya, and Zoe (tie)
Final vote:
Voters Chose: Alya
You felt your fingers clacking against your keyboard as words came to life. It was a welcome distraction for your hands, as you knew they would wander in dangerous ways given time. Focusing and honing your intrusive thoughts into your writing was the closest thing you had to a salve. What started as interest, searching for gruesome tales online, living vicariously through the crimes of others, grew into writing your own imaginary crimes. They sated you for a long, long time, but soon, it was not enough.
So there you were, at the tender age of twelve, when you took your first life. You read about psychopaths with childhood cruelty to animals, but you didn’t want that! Animals were cute and innocent, why would you ever hurt them? Not when there were so many humans out there, guilty of cruelty of their own, for whom justice had ignored. That was what you craved. To be a hero, a pillar of justice, just like your favorite superheroes.
It was fairly simple to drug your first victim with some leftover prescription meds your family had lying around, then stuffing his throat with food so it looked like he choked. No one really investigated it, he was that hated in your community.
The thrill of taking another’s life, watching as he passed on, and the subsequent excitement of never getting caught, it was intoxicating. From there, your exploits and battles against hometown supervillains grew more and more daring. You became very skilled with a knife, loathe as you were to take up such a cliche.
Your family moved to Paris, letting you into a wider playground to play. New sights, new opportunities! New scumbags! You were wary at first, of course. And you had gotten sidetracked too, seeing real life, real superheroes! You started a new blog, and quickly gained a decent new following for your public self, one that quickly surpassed your first blog.
Time passed, and you were chosen to be a temporary hero even! Then your friend, Marinette revealed herself to be Ladybug! You wanted to confess right then and there, but you knew she would never understand.
The girls your age, they were softhearted and kind. You were a monster, playing at being a hero, you knew. You had only killed seven people since coming to Paris, and they were base criminals, barely meeting your personal code. You dreamed of greater prey.
But work came before pleasure, and you were now Ladybug’s lieutenant of sorts. Her confidante. You had to be there for her. You could not give in to your urges now, not when she needed you. Not now. And yet the itch in the back of your mind grew larger as the weeks passed.
And then he was killed.
—
You were all on break for that student film of yours. All your classmates and school fellows scattered, while you spent time in the room alone, wracking your head over the script. The ending. The ending.
The ending ending ending. So important. You reveled for the ends of human beings. Watched as their final moments came and went. Watched their epilogues play out, as mourners and haters alike revealed themselves.
The power went out. A few minutes later, it came back on. People flowed back into the room to begin filming, but someone was missing.
Nino, Marinette, and Zoe were over in the corner debating something. Then you saw Juleka, Rose, Mylène, Alix, and Lila laughing. Marc and Nathaniel were making eyes at each other. Ivan, Kim, and Max were looking at a video game. Sabrina was talking with Madame Bustier and Principal Damocles about some homework assignments.
Then, a shriek rang out. A wail so powerful that you and several others immediately ran to it.
You all squeezed your way to the co-ed locker room, to find Chloé sobbing. When she saw you arrive, she pointed mutely at the locker. It was open, but not empty.
Unlike other killers, you didn’t revel in blood, but you were so very accustomed to it. You reveled in death. But this?
This was no triumph. This was murder. You glanced around the room. Everyone was here. The school was locked down, you knew that for surety. Inside the room was another murderer.
New prey for you. For you will avenge Adrien Agreste and bring justice.
—
Welcome back true believers! Serialblogger here, with another juicy tale! Now usually I split my posts into two categories: true crime journalism that I’ve extensively studied, and rigorous journaling of my own crimes of passion. But today, I’ve got a special treat for you all!
A case had come up in my very own school! And, as you all remember, the cops in my area are not exactly the most competent. Normally I would not stick my neck out, stay anonymous, as it were, but the deceased is a dear friend of mine. That’s right! Your friendly internet serial killer is going to try her hand at detective work!
And every great detective needs an assistant…
—
Voters chose: Nino
Maspers wrote: Ironic deaths as preferred killing method (+ to all weapons usage, + to all weapons knowledge, + to creativity)
Maspers wrote: Fingerprints as trophies
Everyone else stared in horror, shock filling their minds, clouding any judgement, but not you. You had seen this a hundred times before in books, articles, and criminal reports, and you’ve seen this a dozen times in person, by your own hand.
Your own experience with a wide range of killing methods let you figure out what weapons were used. Blunt force trauma all over Adrien’s bruised and battered body. His face was broken beyond repair, bloody and black all over.
His once-beautiful skin was split everywhere, but it was his stomach that was the most gruesome. A giant gash forced open by a blunt object let his intestines flow out of Adrien’s body, trailing down his broken legs and ending by his bloodied shoes.
His murderer beat him again and again, thrust their blunt weapon so hard it pierced flesh and guts and gore. Whoever killed him had such fury, such hatred for him.
Somebody behind you vomited. Another person cried. That was Chloé, but it was soon met with sobs from others. A few others like you were silent. You turned to see Marinette staring at Adrien’s body, not looking away. Nino had turned his hat down over his eyes, holding back his bile.
Nino ran out of the room, followed by several others. Those that remained were blocked from view by Madame Bustier. “Everyone, go back to the classroom now. Don’t leave anyone alone.”
She pulled out her phone and began calling the police.
You grabbed Marinette by the hand and led her back to the classroom, others following suit. Mylène was hyperventilating, pale from her own vomit. Juleka and Rose held each other tight.
You made it back to the classroom. Marinette was silent still, barely reacting to anything you said or did. You put a jacket over Marinette and let her be. You found Nino in his seat.
Nino was your boyfriend. He was nice. His innocence and straightforwardness was endearing to you. He was blunt, but that was charming in his own way. Dating him after spending an hour trapped in a cage at the zoo was a flight of fancy, but it also served to mask yourself.
Girls your age dated cute boys or girls. You originally intended to stay with him for a few weeks, then break it off gently. But by that second week, the two of you fell into a rhythm. He was comfortable. Relaxing. Being with him made it just a bit easier to ignore your urges, if only for a little while.
But every once in a while, the way Nino looked at you, the way he acted, it made you imagine what he would be like bleeding on the floor, your shoe snapping his neck, watching the horror and betrayal in his eyes as they faded.
Right now, his eyes were dark and angry. His best friend was gone.
You pulled up a chair next to and sat down, avoiding taking Adrien’s empty seat. “Hey, babe, you okay?” You asked him. You both knew he wasn’t, but you were trying your best to be supportive. While you were good friends with Adrien, he was to Nino as Marinette was to you.
The thought of losing Marinette to anyone but you, well, that didn’t sit well, not at all. It wasn’t something you thought about before, but now?
Your urge grew fiercely, but you tamped it down. You would satisfy it later. Now, you had Nino.
Nino shook his head. “No. I’m not.”
You put your hand over his and squeezed. “I’m going to investigate this. We have to find who did it.”
He nodded weakly. Had it been anyone else, Nino would have been ecstatic to be part of a real life mystery.
You pulled out a pen and paper, and began writing down the known facts of the case.
—
My boyfriend, who I refer to as “Babe” on this blog, was my assistant. He and I worked together to figure out the ins and outs of the situation, before the police could even arrive. Here is what we know right now:
1. The school was locked down. While people could leave, no one could enter or exit without being seen on camera.
2. No one did enter the school from 12h30 to 15h02, when the body was found. (Chloé screaming)
3. The people in the school from 12h30 to 15h02, all of which still present now, are: Marinette, Adrien, Nino, Me, Chloé, Zoe, Sabrina, Kim, Max, Alix, Ivan, Mylène, Marc, Nathaniel, Rose, Juleka, Lila, Principal Damocles, and Madame Bustier.
4. Adrien was last seen alive, by me and Nino, at around 14h30, although we are not certain exactly. He left the classroom to take a break, we don’t know yet who he met with, if any.
5. Adrien was murdered with a blunt object, beaten to death and stuffed in a locker. I will have to take a closer look to get more details.
Now, then, it was time I took to looking for more clues. That was how detectives work right?
Urge Meter: 70/100
—
Voters chose:
1. Investigate the crime scene, security cameras
2. Talk to Marinette and Tikki
3. Interview Max, Madame Bustier
You and Nino walked to the crime scene again. This time, the door to the locker room was closed, and Kim was looking stoically.
“Dude, are you guarding the crime scene?” Nino asked. Giving him something to do, even if it was this, seemed to make him feel better, you figured.
Kim nodded. “Yeah, Principal Damocles had me wait here while he called the police. Madame Bustier is with Chloé.” He sighed. “I can’t believe it. I just saw him like an hour ago. Adrien was fine.” He crossed his arms and huffed. “It’s crazy.”
“Did you see him after he left the classroom?” You asked.
Kim shook his head. “Chloé had a question for me, so I was talking with her at around… 14h30, when we took that break?”
“Wait, you talked with Chloé? When did she leave?” Nino asked.
Kim shrugged. “We talked for a few minutes, but then she left to go get something from her locker.”
You frowned. “What about Sabrina? Doesn’t she usually do her grunt work?”
“I have no idea either.” He said.
The three of you stayed silently for a moment, before you pried, “Can we go take a look? Inside I mean?”
“Well,” Kim stroked his chin. “Principal Damocles said to guard this door until the police arrived, but you guys are alright. Come on in.”
That did not bode well for scene contamination. Or evidence disposal prevention. You two gingerly stepped into the locker room and looked around. The locker where Adrien’s body was was still the same, unchanged from how it was before.
Adrien’s body was the same as before, except perhaps a little bit drier now. The blood had finally stopped dripping, and his body was at rest.
You crept down, avoiding touching anything on instinct. You got a good look at him. Adrien was defeated, surprise and fear remained on his face. You had seen that look before. Adrien was taken by surprise, he had no chance to fight back. Adrien was athletic for his age, but anyone could have gotten him with the element of surprise.
You took in all of the gore, trying to imagine where everything used to be. The trail of blood on the ground was short, and a closer inspection showed no signs of mopping or cleanup. Considering the 32 minute window, that made sense.
“This is his locker.” Nino said.
You nodded. “They must have hit him when he opened it, taking him by surprise. He turned back, but was too dazed to do anything. He was beaten and beaten until he is here now.”
Nino looked queasy. “I’m going to be sick.”
There was still a faint scent of vomit from earlier, but you ignored it. Something was off, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. “Nino? I’m going to need you to look. Something is missing, but I can’t remember. Maybe you can.”
“Babe please.” Nino grimaced.
“For me? For Adrien?” You asked.
Nino relented. “For Adrien.” He turned slowly, looking with only one eye, as if that would lower the amount of blood he would see.
He looked Adrien over quickly. Then he turned around and ran to the corner, far away to retch.
You walked over to him and patted his back. “You okay?”
Nino nodded. “Y-yeah. I’m just… oh God. How can you just stand there, Alya?”
“I… have a strong stomach. You know that.” You didn’t seek out the horror genre, nor cared too much for Halloween, but Nino knew you were easily able to deal with bugs and blood.
He nodded. “I think… we got everything without letting the police do their thing.”
You agreed. Especially not without tampering the crime scene. And if you tampered with it, touched it even, well, you weren’t sure what you’d do. Something about the corpse next to you, made by someone else’s own hand, stirred something in you. The urge.
Urge Meter: 80/100
“Let’s get out of here.” You got Nino up, and the two of you sneakily left, nodding to Kim on the way out.
—
After a cool down, the two of you went to talk to Max.
“So what have you been up to?” You asked Max. He was tinkering with some of Markov’s internals. From what you remember, Markov had been powered off the whole day due to needed maintenance, which Max couldn’t get done without delaying the film.
Now everything was delayed.
Max looked up at them briefly, before looking down at Markov. He twisted his screwdriver, back and forth, back and forth. “I suspect you want me to explain what I have been doing during Adrien’s disappearance, to establish alibis.” He pushed his glasses up his nose. “I left the room shortly after break to get a drink from the cafeteria. No one else was with me, so I have no alibi, not even Markov. But I can show you the security footage of me walking there and back, if you’d like.”
You perked up at that. “Yes. That would be helpful. And maybe, if it’s possible…”
“I could look up Adrien’s movements on the cameras too.” Max said.
You nodded. You were very adept at avoiding cameras, but working with them from the other end?
“Let’s go then.” Nino said.
The three of you made it to the security room, also woefully secured. You easily picked the lock, and Max was able to quickly access the security footage by getting the password from a sticky note.
“As you can see, I went into the cafeteria,” Max showed the footage, “And didn’t leave until four minutes and forty-seven seconds prior to the body’s discovery.”
“Not enough time to do that much damage.” You said, “The murderer must have needed twice that time at least.”
“And it would have taken one minute and seven seconds to reach the locker room from the cafeteria in the first place.” Max added.
Next, they looked for the footage of Adrien. They found him leaving the classroom, then walking down towards the locker room, but he checked his phone, sighed, then walked inside. That was at 14h32. There were no cameras inside the locker room, but they could check who came in. The locker room had only one entrance.
They saw Sabrina go in at 14h33, then Ivan at 14h34. Followed by Marc at 14h35, who came back out a minute later. Sabrina left at 14h39.
Then suddenly at 14h42, the camera angle was changed. It was suddenly pushed up until it focused on the ceiling, where it kept recording until well past 15h02.
You pursed your lips. “Somebody moved the camera.”
”It was done manually,” Max said, “There’s no motor, but the cameras can be adjusted.”
”No other cameras?” Nino asked. “What about the rest of the hallway?”
”None.” Max said, “There are only five cameras, and the ones we have were only installed after that incident involving Marinette and Lila.”
—
You two left Max, who made copies of everything. Next, you went back to Marinette, and found her sitting quietly.
You beckoned Nino to leave you two alone. He dutifully went to spend time with some of the other boys.
”Girl, how are you feeling?” You asked.
”Terrible.” Marinette murmured. “I’m doing all I can just to not get akumatized.”
You nodded. But it was odd. Everyone was distraught right now. Where was the akuma? Where was Hawkmoth?
“Does Tikki have any insights? Did she see anything?”
Tikki peeked out of Marinette’s purse and whispered, “Nothing. I was in here most of the day. I left to talk to Plagg—“
Tikki’s eyes went wide. “Oh no. Oh no no no. I forgot. This is bad. I’ll be right back.” She phased through the floor and left them.
But before Tikki could return, Madame Bustier called you and Marinette to her.
Nino was called up too. When the three of you arrived at her desk, you took sight of her. It looked like your teacher had aged a decade in the last few hours. She was tired and distraught, but she was holding it together, being strong for you and your classmates.
“The three of you were the closest to Adrien, besides Chloé.” Madame Bustier said. “I am here for you if any of you need support, public or private.” She took a deep breath. “The police are arriving as we speak. M Agreste will be here at the same time. If you have any questions right now however…”
”Madame.” You spoke up. “what were you doing between 14h30 and 15h02?”
Your teacher chuckled sadly. “I stepped out for a bit, stayed in the courtyard to talk to my wife. I have the phone records, and…” She shook her head. “I saw no one near me. I came back just a few minutes before 15h00.” She looked you in the eye. “A curious mind like you, driven, with a fire in her belly. Never lose that. But… this time, you should leave it to the police.”
You were about to protest yourself, but Marinette spoke up. “We are going to let them do their job, but we are going to do everything in our power to help. Adrien was our friend, and we owe it to him to not step aside.” Her lip quivered. “Not again. Not when he needed us most.”
Madame Bustier’s smile brightened, just a little bit.
Nino spoke up. “We’re going to ask questions. The police will ask first, but we know it was someone in this building. We know everyone here, they don’t. We need all the help we can get.” Nino gripped his baseball cap tightly. “For Adrien.”
”For Adrien,” You agreed.
”Good.” Madame Bustier said. A loud horn could be heard as well as footsteps. “The police are here. For now at least, we are safe.”
—
You are about to be interviewed by the police. Please describe your general strategy. Because you are losing time to this interview, next turn, you will have only 3 investigative actions.
Luppa wrote: Establish eye contact, no hesitating or stuttering (makes people suspicious), and try to avoid implicating myself in their accusations
The police took your statement in an empty faculty office. You were unfamiliar with the teacher, and you were unfamiliar with the policeman. He was middle-aged, with male pattern baldness and thin dark brown hair. His face was somewhat pale, and he had a stern look on him. His body was wiry thin, as if a stiff breeze could blow him away.
“Please have a seat, mademoiselle. I am Detective Benoit Martin.”
You sat down and locked eyes with him. “How can I help, officer?”
He looked at you, an eyebrow quirked up. “Can you tell what happened today, from your perspective?”
A small smile was on your face. You had to be straightforward and to the point. Hesitation would make him suspicious.
You had never been questioned by the police before, you had always been careful when selecting your victims. You supposed this was practice. All you had to do was avoid implicating yourself in any of their accusations.
”At around 14h30 to 15h00, I was busy writing in the classroom,” You said. Pretty much everyone had filed out of the classroom at the beginning, but you didn’t mention that.
”Do you have anyone to back up that claim?” He asked. Ah.
“Chloé and Kim were there at the beginning. They left early on. I was too busy writing to pay much attention. But no, everyone had left the room besides me.” You said truthfully.
You yourself were unsure of everyone else’s alibis.
“That seems to be the case for almost everyone today it seems.” He said idly.
”It’s a very interesting situation.” You agreed. “Someone killed Adrien, however. And I mean to look for them, and catch them.”
”I understand you were one of Adrien’s closer friends.” Detective Martin said. “Your boyfriend was his best friend, and you frequently spent time with him in a group setting.”
You nodded. “Yes, he and I were somewhat close.”
”’Somewhat close’ doesn’t usually mean a crusade for justice.” The detective said.
”This world will always need more of it. I’m sure you’ll agree.” Alya responded.
Detective Martin nodded. ”You’re known as the Ladyblogger.” The detective said, changing the subject. “From what I know, you captured the first footage of Ladybug and Chat Noir. You’ve since done several livestreams putting yourself in harm’s way.” He looked at you. “Do not do that. Leave the work and danger to the professionals.”
”Of course, detective.” You lied.
Overall, you think the interview went nicely.
—
Voters chose: Mickeyfan’s plan
1. Steal police credentials to keep up with the investigation
2. Interview Sabrina
3. Talk to Marinette and Tikki
Before you left the school, you took the time to swipe a couple of cards belonging to one of the detectives, and one from one of the officers on duty. One of them had a password scribbled on the back.
Logging into that officer’s account was simple, and making your own account through it was child’s play. Soon, you had access to, admittedly, a very limited amount of secret information, but this case was all that mattered to you. After this was all over, you’d discard these credentials like it was litter.
You smirked at the ease of it all. You avoided the police on instinct and fear, but this was simple. Oh, Detective Martin seemed sharp, but the average cop was well below what you were worried about.
After all, they hadn’t even gotten close to catching you, hadn’t they?
—
You went home. Your parents were very distraught and worried for you. You acted frightened and sad for them, as they would have expected from you. Your older sister, Nora, was more patient with you than she had ever been. She was always a little bit miffed that you and her had nothing in common, but she still cared for you all the same.
Your younger sisters, Ella and Etta, were not told of the news, just that you were home, tired, and would be staying home for a few days.
”Are you sick?” Ella asked.
”Or super tired?” Etta asked.
You simply smiled at them. “Bit of both, I suppose.” You were sick in the mind, you knew. And you were tired. But you had to keep going. The urge within you wouldn’t stop. It was getting close to time to take care of it.
Urge Meter: 85/100
—
In your room, you called up Marinette. There was something up with Tikki that you didn’t finish hearing.
When the phone picked up, all you could hear was sobbing. “Marinette?”
”H-he’s gone…” Marinette choked out, before sobbing again. “He’s dead and I never got to… all this time…”
You sat in your room, listening to Marinette’s crying slowly get softer. Her ragged breathing evened out, until she spoke up. “Alya? Are you still there?”
”I am.” You said. “Doing okay?”
”Yeah, I am. It’s just… Tikki told me something. Something she shouldn’t have been able to say. But it’s real. It really, really hit me, when she said it.”
“Said what?” You asked.
”Adrien was Chat Noir.” Marinette said.
And so it was.
Learning Chat Noir’s identity didn’t fill you with the excitement you were hoping for. You also didn’t feel any of that excitement when you learned Ladybug’s identity too, now that you thought about it. How strange.
“His ring’s missing.” Marinette said at some point. “His killer took Chat Noir’s Miraculous.”
That was a worrying piece of information. You would have to deal with that.
Time passed. The two of you talked about random things back and forth for a while, until the two of you drifted off to sleep.
—
The next morning, you called up Sabrina.
“Hello?” Sabrina picked up, her face appearing to you via video call. “Alya? What’s up?”
”I’m calling because Nino and I are trying to piece together a timeline, trying to help figure out what happened yesterday.”
Sabrina rubbed her eyes. She looked like she’d only been awake for a few minutes. The room obviously wasn’t her own. The bed was too big. Chloé’s place?
The frown on your face must have tipped Sabrina off, and she turned off video and switched to voice only. “D-don’t look! I’m uh-I’m not decent!”
You had seen her in worse, you knew. You weren’t sure what the deal was with that. You continued, “We saw on the cameras that you went into the locker room at 14h33 and 14h39. What were you doing in there?”
Sabrina was quiet for a moment. Then she squeaked. “Nothing important! Just getting something for Chloé haha! Sorry, Chloé is calling me, gotta go!”
Then she hung up.