Who Killed Markiplier?

Chapter 1

Life was normal. You had just gotten a job as district attorney, working alongside your lifelong friend Damien, the mayor of the city. You lived in a small house by yourself and enjoyed cooking almost as much as you enjoyed eating. You watered the flowers growing in your garden every morning before heading to work.

Life was normal. That is, until you received a letter in the mail. No, not a letter, an invitation.

Now, you weren't a very social person. You played poker with Damien and a few other colleagues every once in a while, but that was it. It was unusual for you to receive a letter at all, much less an invitation.

Speaking of poker, it was an invitation to poker night at Markiplier Manor. You felt yourself smile. God, how you've missed Mark. You hadn't seen him in years. You heard he had gone on to do such wonderful things, and you couldn't wait to see him again.

It wasn't long before your bag was packed and a taxi was waiting for you. You knew, deep down, that this reunion would definitely be... interesting. You just didn't know how quickly things could go wrong.

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You stared up at the manor. "Hoooooly shit," you said to yourself. The house was much bigger than you thought it'd be. You knew Mark was rich, but...damn. You were almost afraid to knock on the door. Just as you were about to turn around and walk back down the steps, you heard an unfamiliar voice.

"Oh, bully! And here I thought I was going to be the last guest to arrive."

You turned and saw a man who was dressed in what appeared to be some form of military attire, along with a tropical pith helmet and glasses with three clip-on magnifying glasses. He looked rather professional, but he had a glint in his eye that said he was anything but.

"My friends call me the Colonel. You're welcome to do the same, should it please you. But, ah, after you!" he said with a wink, and moved to hold open the door.

You smiled shyly. "Thank you very much, sir."

"No need to call me sir, madame. 'Colonel' will do just fine!" He chuckled.

You smiled and nodded silently before stepping into the house, the Colonel stepping in behind you.

Everything was beautiful. You stood admiring everything in the entryway. The paintings, the furniture, the walls, and even the floors looked like they had been made by God himself. Of course, you weren't used to such an extravagant lifestyle. You lived in a small house by yourself, and you only owned one fancy dress (which you were wearing right now).

"It truly is magnificent, isn't it?" the Colonel whispered.

You nodded, unable to tear your eyes from a marble statue that stood in the hall.

Caught in your wonder, you hadn't noticed that the butler had approached you until he cleared his throat and said "Bonjour!" You jumped slightly before turning and smiling.

"Bonjour!" You replied.

"Bonjour!" Said the Colonel with a flourish.

"Welcome to Markiplier Manor! Your invitation, please?"

You nodded and reached into your purse while the Colonel reached into his pocket.

"Of course," you said, handing him the paper.

"Very good, very good. Right this way." He bowed before leading you both down the hall. "Good luck at the table tonight! I shall fetch you a drink, forthwith."

He directed the two of you toward the living room before disappearing down another hallway.
You were a little nervous. You hadn't met the Colonel before, and you weren't sure who else had been invited. Just as you were thinking about leaving again, someone called out.

"(Y/n)!  There you are, old friend!" At the sound of his voice, you grinned and rushed to give him a hug.

"Damien! Long time no see!" You joked as you wrapped your arms around him. He hugged back, almost dropping his cane.

"It's good to see you, too!" He laughed, both of you stepping back. "How are you settling into your new office? I know it'll take some getting used to, but there's no-one I would rather have alongside me to protect this great city of ours."

"It means so much to hear you say that. It is an honor to be working with you, Damien." You leaned in closer to whisper. "It's also really good to see you here. I don't think I know anybody else, it's reassuring to see a familiar face."

"Of course, I'll have to introduce you to everyone later. But for now, I'll see you at the table soon, and try not to rob me blind again! We'll catch up," he said with a small chuckle before exiting the room.

Alone yet again, you decided to explore rather than socialize. Slowly, you made your way into the dining room, where you saw the chef cleaning up and preparing to serve the meal. You were about to say something when he glared up at you.

"What're you looking for, girly? If you're looking for food, then you'll get it when I'm good and ready!" He said angrily. "And STAY OUT OF MY KITCHEN!" He shouted.

You flinched and immediately went to apologize. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Now, now!" Interrupted the butler. "Let's not be rude to our guest!" The chef grumbled and disappeared into the kitchen. "I am so sorry about that. Here is your champagne, madame. Enjoy your evening!"

You accepted the drink and immediatly took a sip. Your hand was shaking slightly. You hated it when people raised their voices at you.
"Thank you, sir." You were going to say more, but you were distracted when you heard a voice from the staircase in the hall. You made your way out to where everyone else had already gathered. You saw a new face, but didn't get a chance to introduce yourself. Oh well, you had all night.

"Welcome, welcome, one and all! My name is Markiplier, and thank you for joining me on this auspicious evening. It's so good to be surrounded by such close and trusted friends!" Mark was slowly walking down the staircase wearing a red robe and black slippers. He looked like he had just woken up, even though his hair was slicked back and he had an excited look on his face.

"Now, this evening is not all about the poker," he continued, "and it's not all about me. It's about you. So drink up and be merry! Life is for the living, and who knows, I could be dead tomorrow!"

Something about that last bit sounded worrisome. What was he talking about? You wanted to ask him what he meant, but instead raised your glass along with everyone else and pushed the thought out of your mind. Tonight was about friends. Tonight was about fun. Finishing your drink, you laughed and followed the others to the poker table.

Yes, tonight was definitely going to be fun.