insert creative title for murderlog here

[evermoredazzling]

cw: mental illness, dissociation, murder

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[mcfife]

[For good measure, he strikes it again. It can’t have been that easy. But it is easy. The gem has shattered, and the light is gone. Spinel is dead.

Nothing is stopping me.

He reaches for a handful of colorful gems. He wants to keep them for himself, but he knows he cannot, not if he wishes to return to his realm. No, everyone must see that Spinel is gone, and after a period of grieving, everything will come to pass.

A horrible idea comes to mind. Why not have a bit of fun? This is your chance to embrace what you have done.

There are only five that he is able to take hold of, but that will suffice. Split up the gems, that can throw them off the trail. His first thought is of the many empty coffins, and if she will rest there eventually, why not get a head start?

Then the barn catches his eyes. The barn. The last place they could find her body. It’s a quick walk to peek in and toss in two shards into the hay. Let them find it with the horse. The next stop is the cemetery. It almost comes naturally, how he moves the cover to an empty crypt and tosses two in there. It’s like he has lost all inhibition.

That leaves one shard left. Now...where to put that? Indoors it is.

There’s not obvious room that would make this...interesting. No single location that feels meaningful. Walking through the first floor hallway one last time, he notices that the dance room has somethings spilled all over it. A quick peak and-

Oh.

Now this is an interesting turn of events.

Slowly approaching the figure, careful not to step on the blood, he takes hold of the last shard.

Claudine. She was rather pleasant, wasn’t she? It’s a shame she won’t be around to solve her own murder. Whatever. Now it’s his problem, thanks a lot. For making his escape more difficult, he decides to give her killer one last gift.

Her hands are stiffening, but he manages to get them open enough to stuff one shard in her non-bloody hand and close her fingers over it.

It’s funny, isn’t it. I should be enjoying this.

The start of a laugh bubbles inside him, but halts. It’s not ready yet. He can’t be happy about this. Yet.

Before that train of thought reaches anywhere, Angus turns around and marches straight to his room. If he is to make it through the day, he needs his sleep.

Whatever happens in the morning will happen.]