𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕼𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓'𝖘 𝕷𝖎𝖔𝖓: 𝕯𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖎𝖕𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖉

Bloody Puzzle Pieces

TW: Charles Grey, a corpse, weapons, and discussions of murders committed in earlier chapters

Thunder echoed through the manor as everyone froze where they stood. Mr. Phelps was laying on the floor, gaping up at them with dead eyes. It was a moment before Y/N and Doyle moved to inspect the corpse. The both of them knelt down and took turns moving and prodding the body before them. Even Charles Grey kept his mouth shut as the two inspected Mr. Phelps.

"How..." Ciel eventually whispered as Y/N tried to pry Phelps's fingers from the fabric he laid on. It took her a moment, even though he was dead, his grip was still strong. Doyle watched Y/N move the body a little more before they both reached the same conclusion.

"He's been dead for quite some time," Y/N declared as she let out a tired sigh.

"Yes, I agree," Doyle concluded. "Some time has passed since his death seeing as rigor mortis has already set in."

"Are we all having a bad dream or something?" Grimsby muttered as Irene clutched his arm tightly.

"I'm afraid not," Y/N grunted as she helped Doyle turn the corpse so they might continue to look for marks of any kind. "It appears that Mister Phelps has become our third victim."

"There is no external trauma as in the previous two..." Doyle noted as he pulled back Phelps's collar.

"Look!" Y/N gasped as she and Doyle both noticed the marks on Phelps's neck. "Puncture wounds!" Y/N and Doyle both leaned even further down to inspect the marks. "They're far too small to be from a blade, too small even for an ice pick, I'd say."

"Which means they may have been needle marks!" Doyle gasped.

"So perhaps poison?" Y/N speculated as she ran a finger over the wound. "But why two injections? And look here," Y/N pulled at the skin of the wound and it stretched ever so slightly. "It looks like the flesh was torn into. The killer must've struck him with a great amount of force to tear flesh like this, but then, why are the wounds so shallow?" Y/N would've gone on to suggest more, but she was interrupted by Lau.

"Oh, I saaaaaay! Lord Earl lives in a most wonderful room," Lau laughed as he and Ran-Mao rummaged through Ciel's wardrobe.

"Don't rummage around someone else's quarters as you please!" Ciel shouted as Lau tossed more of his clothes on the floor.

"Ah ha! You've held on to the dress I gave youuu! Have you worn it?" Lau asked as he pulled out a tiny dress that mimicked Ran-Mao's from the back of Ciel's closet.

"I certainly have not! Listen when I'm talking to you!" Ciel yelled, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears. The Earl let out a defeated sigh as neither Lau nor Ran-Mao stopped going through his things. That was when something clicked in Ciel's head and he shot a look over to Y/N. "That's right!" Y/N had to cover up a fake gasp. "Ciel remembered Lau's acupuncture that he used on the guards at West's manor. I know it was a Black Mamba, of course, but I should probably keep an extra eye on Lau..." Y/N slowly nodded her head to signal Ciel she understood before turning to Doyle once again.

"What if they're tooth marks," Y/N proposed, knowing that was exactly what they were. "A bite would leave two wounds, the animal would strike with force, the flesh would tear in a jagged manner, and the wound would be shallow because of the length of the teeth."

"Bite marks on the neck," shuttered Irene. "Brings to mind Carmilla, doesn't it?"

"By that, are you referring to Le Fanu's vampiric Carmilla?" Ciel asked.

"Yes. Are you familiar with it?" Irene gasped as she imagined a beautiful woman stalking into the room to suck Mr. Phelps dry of his blood.

"So you're saying he was killed by a vampire? Preposterous!" Protested Woodley. If only he knew the ratio of humans to monsters in the Phantomhive manor wasn't all to none. "Such occult and unscientific occurrences have no place in the nineteenth century!"