The First Murder

It took a few minutes for the power to return, and during that time several loud complaints were spat out.

And when the power returned at 7:03, Alphonse was looking around frantically.

“Esme? Esme!?” Alphonse called out to no response.

The nobles looked rather disinterested after hearing the name.

“Esme’s gone?” Juno surprisingly came to Alphonse first.

“She stopped responding in the dark, but I just thought that maybe she was just being quiet out of fear since she’s afraid of the dark and all, but then the lights came back on and she was missing!” Alphonse seemed extremely panicked at the development, his usual demeanor completely missing.

“She’s gone?” Sam had also rushed toward Alphonse, looking concerned.

“Yes! Weren’t you listening!?”

Sam apologized and averted his gaze.

Before the lights had gone off, Esme was with Alphonse. They were on the right side of the ballroom next to the kitchen and a door that led to another part of the manor. Aion had been on the left side near the exit to the left. Glancing at the door that he had entered, it appears two servants had stayed behind, a butler and a maid he didn’t know the names of.

Walking over while Alphonse and the other two were panicking, Aion asked, “Did the two of you stay here the whole time?”

“Huh?” The maid and butler both looked over at Aion in surprise.

“Did the two of you stay here the whole time?” Aion repeated the question.

“Oh, uh, yeah…” The butler answered for the two of them.

Aion nodded and headed over to Alphonse and company and said, “Esme is either in the kitchen or in the area to the right through that door.” Aion pointed at the door on the right wall.

“Huh?” Alphonse was surprised at Aion’s sudden appearance.

“I said—”

“I know what you said. I’m just confused on how you came to that conclusion,” Alphonse said.

“I was on the left side near the door to the left, and I didn’t hear or sense anyone passing by me. Those two servants were at the main entrance, so they would’ve probably noticed Esme’s disappearance. Then, the stairs can be eliminated since climbing them in the dark seems improbable. Thus, we can narrow our search for now between the kitchen and the right area.”

Sam looked impressed by Aion’s reasoning, while Alphonse nodded and said, “I’ll take the kitchen; you three look in the hall to the right.”

Then, without another word, Alphonse bolted off. Aion behaved similarly, only bolting a couple seconds after. If he was right about what was going to happen, then he felt a slight sense of nausea building up. Like the dread he would feel when reading, the feeling was only amplified with this lucid dream, or rather lucid nightmare.

Opening the door to the right, Aion was met with a hall that split off in the middle at an intersection. Soon, Sam and Juno had arrived.

“I’ll take the hall straight ahead,” Aion said.

The other two nodded. Which was surprising. He expected Juno to throw a fit at being ordered around, but she did no such thing. Instead, she obediently listened and turned down the left hall. Sam turned down the right hall.

Now, Aion moved forward. The halls here were different. The wallpaper was fancier, the decor was higher grade, and several paintings were along the wall. As much as he was interested in what the paintings were, he moved along and entered the first room he found on the right side of the hall. The room was dark, so Aion fished for the light switch and flicked it on upon discovery.

Once illuminated, Aion saw a pool table in front of the room’s entrance. Several more games like darts and ping pong were deeper. However, Aion didn’t spot Esme or any signs of habitation. One thing he did find, though, was an open entrance to another room at the deeper side of the room.

He was now left with a choice: return to the hall or descend deeper into this place. And Aion’s mind froze. But only for a second; he decided to eliminate areas as he went. Thus, investigating each room and its constituent rooms was essential.

Through the open entranceway, Aion beheld a bar with several round tables and chairs and the main bar all the way in the back. Several more games like the previous room were strewn about. There was a door on the side of the hallway, so Aion ignored it for now. He would check back if, after finishing his search of the hallway, he hadn't returned to the place. Still finding no signs of anyone, Aion checked behind the counter just in case. Behind the counter he saw several casks of what he guessed to be alcohol.

Returning to the hallway, the next room he found was next to another turn down a new hallway. The room was just a storage room of some extra equipment from the game room, so Aion moved on quickly and looked at the split hall. The hall was split off to the left, breaking off from the hall continuing forward. The hall forward ended with a window to the outside, letting in the bright moonlight on this clear night.

Walking over, he found a door on the left and right. Opting for the right door first, he found that it did indeed lead into the bar area of the game room. The door on the left led to a staircase to the third floor. So, Aion went down the hall that he opted not to go down prior. Down the hall was a pair of grand doors. Opening them, Aion was hit with the smell of books and saw a massive library.

As Aion went deeper inside, he quickly realized that this was the second floor of the library, and another floor led upward. In other words, this was a three-floor library. The place was massive. He wasn’t even sure how this many books without fiction could even exist. Interested, he was going to investigate for himself until a voice spoke to him.

“Aion? What are you doing here?” Juno asked, surprised to see him.

“I came in from the door behind me.” Aion gestured behind him. “I take it your hall led here as well?”

“It appears so. I’ve been looking and calling for Esme, but I haven’t found anything,” Juno said with a look of concern.

“You’re actually concerned?”

“Huh? Why wouldn’t I be?”

Aion was a little surprised and said, “You just struck me as someone who only cared about themself.”

“Oh…is that so?” Juno’s voice was a little quiet, and she continued to scan the rest of the library.

“Hm…” Aion made a noise as he thought about things.

Esme disappeared in the dark. Aion had presumed she’d been dragged away by the killer so he could take her out. As for the motive behind such an action, he wasn’t quite sure at this point. At first he assumed that if Esme was the victim, the culprit would’ve been Juno. The reason: Esme interfered in her engagement with Alphonse. Thus, it was a reasonable motive for a detective novel. But would that be too obvious? Furthermore, the person in front of him now didn’t strike him as someone who would kill Esme. Unless—

Soon the door from behind Aion burst open, and Sam was breathing heavily.

“Sam, what’s wrong?” Aion asked as he walked over.

“There, there is!” Sam tried to spit the answer out but his breathing was too heavy.

Then, Alphonse came in behind him and asked, “Sam, why are you running!?”

“Just…follow me!” Sam breathed out and ran out of the room.

Aion followed along with the other two, and they eventually reached the hall Sam had turned down. Running past the door on the right into the split of the hall into the left and right, they turned down the left and then took another turn to the right as the hall sharply turned. A window was at the end of this hall with four rooms wide open, and a few servants, including Aria and Aira, standing around with grim expressions on their faces.

“In here!” Sam said, and he went into the second room on the right.

Alphonse was the first to enter. When he entered, Aion saw that he froze. Aion shoved past him and entered next.

The room was a random bedroom with what looked like a connecting bathroom. A single double bed with a nightstand and lamp. There was a window on the left side of the wall that let the full moon shine through into the room. There were even some paintings and a desk and chair for a guest to work on some things while staying. All of it was perfectly normal for a guest room. Everything about this room was perfectly standard except one thing. One thing transformed this room from something completely normal to something that made Aion’s body stiffen, his eyes widened, and his breath stopped.

On the floor, a single thing stood out.

Or rather, a single person stood out.

Esme was face down on the floor with a knife through her back.

Blood seeped into the carpet, staining the gray carpet crimson.

The sight made Aion back up a step.

Then another.

Alphonse had snapped out of his stupor and ran over to her body, crying out in agony as he held her closely.

But that reaction didn't send anything through Aion’s body. No emotion. No physical reaction. No thought. Just nothing.

He only stared wide-eyed at the scene as he took another step back.

His heart thudded loudly, drowning out all the noise around him. His ears rang, making his head throb in pain.

But still, he could only stare at the scene.

It was like if he looked away, all of it would disappear.

But none of it would.

Esme was dead.

That was a fact.

Esme was dead.

That was the reality he was experiencing.

Esme was dead.

That’s what the narrative of Crystal Machinations decided.

It decided that Esme was dead.

So Aion should accept it.

In the hundreds to thousands of works he read or watched, he accepted every character that died. No matter how much it hurt him when it happened, he had to accept that fact. Nothing would change in a work that had no solution for death. And this was one of those works.

Aion didn’t really know all that much about Esme. The fact of the matter was, her character seemed rather generic to him. He had seen a little more this evening, but it still didn’t change the fact that Aion knew nothing about her.

He didn’t connect with her. He didn’t care about her. He didn’t even really talk to her that much.

So, he was fine.

He was absolutely fine.

He was always fine.

He was always detached from characters. No matter how much he empathized or sympathized with them. He was a separate, wholly different being.

And that was fine.

And that’s why he was fine.

He was most certainly fine.

“Aion?” A voice snapped him out of his stupor—Aira’s voice.

Her expression was grim, and she looked like she was trying to maintain her calm.

“Yes?” Aion asked weakly.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah…I’m fine…I didn’t know her. So, the fact that I feel nothing is expected. If anything, it would be weird if I did feel something, right?” Aion asked and laughed.

Aira’s eyes swam with some sort of emotion, and said, “If…if you say so…”

Aion felt his hands numbing, and he saw something that made him ask a question: “Hey, why do you have keys?”

Aira, who was holding a key ring said, “Ah…the door was locked.”

“Locked?”

“It’s pretty weird. I mean, how can a room that is only lockable from the inside be locked like that?”

“The room is only lockable from the inside?”

“Ah, yeah. Not even the keys can lock them.”

“Ah, I see,” Aion said calmly; it was like his symptoms had completely vanished. “So it’s a locked room mystery.”

Esme had been killed inside this guest room, and the room had somehow been locked.

Aion walked back into the room and grabbed Alphonse’s shoulder.

Alphonse turned up to look at Aion with his tear-stained face, “Aion…?”

“This room is a crime scene; it’s best not to mess with the site of the crime.”

Alphonse’s mouth fell open, and he said, “Yeah…you’re right…”

He may have said that, but his face betrayed his words. His reaction was expected. As the protagonist, he had a duty to bring this story to its end. So, Aion didn’t have to worry. The rest would be smooth sailing from here on out. All he had to do was stay out of the way, and the night would pass.

“Although,” Alphonse started. “I don’t think this is a crime scene…”

“Huh? You think this was a suicide?” Aion asked.

“Suicide?” Alphonse asked, a little confused. “No, not that. This was clearly her time to go.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah…” Alphonse didn’t say anything more before getting up and walking away.

“Wait, aren’t you going to investigate the scene?”

“There’s no need.”

Aion was shocked; what Alphonse was saying was unbelievable. Furthermore, what detective didn’t examine the scene? Then, was Alphonse not the detective? Aion had merely assumed it to be the case. But thinking about it another way, maybe he was wrong. The first thing was the fact that Alphonse had a love interest in Esme, although she was now dead. But the fact that it existed was weird enough.

If he recalled, there was a rule in detective fiction to not have romance. He thinks it was even in Van Dine’s 20 Rules. No, it definitely was. So looking at it that way, it could start to make sense.

Furthermore, the person the story begins with isn’t inherently the detective. He’d read a few works where the detective only showed up later in the story. Thus, just because Alphonse had been the perspective in those early chapters, it didn’t mean that Alphonse was the detective.

The more he thought about it, the more plausible it seemed.

“Hey, Sam,” Aion started speaking to Sam. “Can you go to the ballroom and ask if anyone is familiar with investigating crime scenes?”

He wasn’t sure if the word “detective” even existed in their vocabulary, so he opted for a more general statement.

“Uh, I guess I can…” Sam agreed hesitantly and left.

Now, Aion was left with the servants and Esme’s body as he waited. It was probably for the best that he didn't leave the crime scene unattended since he had no clue what could’ve happened in that time.

Soon, Sam returned.

“You’re alone?” Aion asked, a little surprised.

“Well…there was no one.”

“No one?”

“Yeah, not a single person seemed like they were willing to investigate or even knew how to.”

“What?”

“There’s no one!” Sam raised his voice; his body was shaking.

“How…?” Aion barely let the words out of his mouth.

“So no, no one can investigate this,” Sam said, looking like he wanted to cry.

Perhaps he hadn’t been able to even grieve yet. But Aion was too absorbed with his shock to notice.

If there was no detective here, did that mean they appeared later? Perhaps the next day, after all, sometimes the detective didn’t deal with fresh crimes.

“Do you know of anyone who may be—”

“No,” Sam cut Aion off. “I don’t know anyone who could investigate. There is no one who can. Why would we have someone that’s able to? Murder doesn’t happen here, so preparing for something that hasn’t happened in decades is stupid. So no, there’s nothing.”

“There’s really no one that—”

“Just let it go!” Sam shouted at Aion. “Why are you pushing for this so much? Don’t you care that Esme died? You aren’t even showing any grief!”

“It’s not like I knew her,” Aion said coldly.

“You didn’t know her? So then, if I died, or I had been killed, or whatever, does that mean you would be reacting the same way?”

“What? No! I have two completely different relationships with you two! You’re actually someone I know, someone that I’ve spoken with more than her. It’s natural I’d be more emotional over your death.”

Sam laughed and said, “Is that so? Yeah, I suppose that’s the case…”

“Sam,” Aion’s voice had transformed into a gentle tone. “It’s okay, just cry, or wail, or do whatever you want so you can grieve.”

“Huh?”

“You’re in pain, are you not? You knew her well, right? You’ve probably talked with her often and had conversations like we’ve had, and you were friends. So, like how I would grieve for you, you should grieve for her.”

“But—”

“I can leave if you want,” Aion offered.

“But the crime scene—you stayed for a reason, right?”

“I…did…”

“Plus, I can’t cry…I can’t cry until her death is resolved, right?”

“...” Aion didn’t say anything.

He didn’t have to. Because the first tear had slipped down Sam’s cheek.

And Sam’s grief, which he had tried to hold onto until the solution to the murder was found, exploded out.

Aion’s gaze was straight at Sam as he stood there in silence. But his mind was elsewhere.

Somehow, the detective was gone, and now they were in a situation where a killer could kill again.

Those were the only thoughts he had.