Fatal Game: Vanoss Crew Murder Mystery Story

Chapter 1: The Mysterious Invitation

In a softly illuminated office space, Evan Fong, famously known as Vanossgaming, found himself engrossed in the task of penning names on a stack of invitations.

"Wildcat," he inscribed with deliberate strokes of his pen.

"Delirious," followed suit, each letter etched precisely onto the parchment.

"Moo," he continued, the sound of his scribbling filling the room.

"Nogla," he added, his focus unwavering.

"Terroriser," the name flowed effortlessly from his pen.

"Marcel," he concluded, a sense of satisfaction washing over him.

With the invitations completed, Vanoss rose from his seat, casting a glance at the clock before departing from the dimly lit office.

Brian Michael Hanby, better known as "Terroriser" in the realm of YouTube, awoke and descended the staircase of his abode. With a few days off from his duties as a detective, he intended to indulge in a leisurely breakfast. As he made his way through the ground floor, the unmistakable sound of the letterbox opening and closing reached his ears, signalling the arrival of mail.

Curiosity piqued, Brian perused through the stack of envelopes until his attention was captured by one in particular, a letter bearing his own name. Intrigued, he gingerly opened it, revealing its contents.

"Hello Brian," the message began, instantly capturing his focus. "I request your presence at my mansion at 6pm tonight. Don't be late, Bitch." The sender's name was none other than Vanoss.

A sigh escaped Brian's lips, for it had been quite some time since he had last crossed paths with his friends. They had gone their separate ways after their YouTube endeavours came to a close. He'd wonder and think about it for while.

As the clock approached 6pm, Brian bid farewell to his long-time girlfriend, Lanai, and embarked on his journey toward Vanoss's opulent mansion. Though he arrived a mere five minutes behind schedule, he couldn't help but notice the familiar vehicles parked outside, an unmistakable sign that his friends had already gathered.

"Time for a weekend of shenanigans," Brian muttered to himself, stepping out of his car.

Upon entering the mansion, his gaze was drawn to the walls adorned with exquisite artwork, the ambiance enhanced by the presence of gilded sculptures showcasing Vanoss's discerning taste. Being a detective, Brian adhered to the principle of carrying a weapon at all times, and thus he was equipped with a handgun discreetly concealed on his person.

Within the grand ballroom, Brian's eyes scanned the scene, taking in the sight of his scattered friends. Wildcat indulged in the buffet, his face stuffed with delicious fare. Marcel remained engrossed in his phone, scrolling through social media feeds. Moo, on the other hand, studied a notepad brimming with puns, determined to deliver them at just the right moment.

Delirious, occupied with his clown makeup, struggled to fit it on before finally placing his mask over his face. "Hey, Brian," a familiar voice called out, belonging to Nogla.

"Nogla, good to see someone I can tolerate," Brian jested, offering a bro fist in greeting. "What do you make of all this? It's not Evan's usual style to own a mansion."

Nogla nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know, don't care. I've got my chocolate milk," he declared, raising a glass of the creamy beverage in his hand.

"Of course you do," Brian replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of surprise and emotion. He wiped his eyes, attempting to collect himself.

As the room plunged into darkness, Vanoss materialized at the top of the grand staircase, resplendent in a meticulously tailored suit embellished with delicate golden threads. "Alright!" his voice boomed, capturing the attention of all present.

"Welcome to the party, my friends," Vanoss announced, sweeping his arm to encompass the gathered guests. "It has been far too long."

Brian's gaze narrowed as he examined Vanoss's attire, a disapproving frown etching across his face. "What the...?" he muttered, his confusion evident.

Stepping forward, Vanoss positioned himself in the center of the room. "You all are invited to stay for the weekend," he declared, his voice filled with a sense of nostalgia. "Enjoy yourselves and let the memories wash over you."