Who killed Markiplier?

Eight little party guests

"Stop!" The woman cried. A warm red aura from the many mirrors in the room surrounded her. She closed the door behind her, "What are you doing?!" She exclaimed, walking down the marble steps of the foyer. Her heels clicking lightly against the steps. "Who the hell are you?!" The Detective quizzed. You had seen the woman before, from the pictures in Mark's room. But her name was unknown to you, did she come here to see Mark? Did she know that he's dead? "Celine? What are you doing here?" The Colonel asked, his voice quickly changed from brash to caring. He must know her, "'Celine'? How the hell do you know her?" The Detective spoke loudly over the two. "Madame, I'm afraid you've come at a very inopportune time." The Butler spoke through his teeth, "Something dreadful has happened here." Did he know her too? You all turned to Celine, who had yet to hear the news of murder. While you were turning you saw out the corner of your eye that the Colonel pointed his revolver at anyone who spoke, expect Celine and Damien. Who wasn't present in the foyer, "I can see that, and I'm glad I got here before it got any worse." She said, trying to calm the others down. It seemed to work, as no one interrupted her. The woman known as Celine looked at you, and you looked back at her. Her black hair was cut short and was hidden mostly by her matching pillbox hat. Which had a honeycomb veil that left a spot open for her diamond face. Her small walnut eyes and lips were painted by a layer of simple makeup. Her dress was simple as well, a black dress with little white stars. An onyx shawl with camouflaged starts draped around her small shoulders. A small upside down triangle necklace was the last feature you could find about her, she was beautiful as well. A rough voice interrupted your thoughts. "This is only the tip of the iceberg!" The Chef took out a finger, "And it's a big iceberg." Celine looked around. As if she had been here before. She must have, both the Butler and Colonel have seen her before. No doubt the Chef as well, "How can I put this delicately..." The Chef looked up, as if thinking for the right words. "Mark's fucking dead!" He cried, his voice abrasive. "What?" Celine said with the same heartbroken tone that Damien used. She had the same reaction as well, taken back and shocked. "Dead, like my hopes and dreams..."  The Chef looked down, "And he's a flesh-zombie, too." He looked up sharply, "Homo Necrosis." Celine echoed the Colonel words from earlier. The two must have a history with each other. "Exactly! Hence the guns!" The Colonel shook his silver gun in the air, the Detective rolled his eyes. "That is not 'Hence the guns.'!" He mocked, waving his own firearm around. "Stop waving those bloody guns around!" The Butler pleaded, who then got a faceful of two guns and a ladle. Didn't the Detective say that Mark's cause of death was a gunshot? Only him and the Colonel has firearms, unless someone used one of their guns to do the murder... Celine put her hands out to stop the madness. "Hol-Hold on on! Tell me what happened, how did Mark...die?" She looked at you, sadness in her eyes. She had a much quicker time of getting over the news of the death than Damien had, "It was murder." A despondent voice answered her question. As quick as the lighting that came after the words you turned to see the owner of the voice, it was the Mayor. Who stood alone ominously in the hall where you had first seen him. Before all this had happened and it was a fun poker night with friends, when everything was simpler. The Mayor walked forward, his footsteps echoed off the tan walls and deep brown wood floors. "And worse yet..."  He set his cane down on the hard floor with a small thud. "The body is missing." Damien finished, he stopped in his tracks. "What? Show me, and don't say that word." Celine commanded.