Who killed Markiplier?

Begining of the end

   The world was black for only a few seconds. The sound of the door clicking shut was the only noise that could be heard in the silent house. The Groundskeeper moved away from the door to make sure it was sealed off, and as he did so. A distant voice spoke, "What the hell is going on?" It was the Colonel. Who wasn't present for the events that had just happened. "Where's Celine?" He asked, his face sunken. And where was Damien? You wondered with him. The last you saw off him, he was walking off with Celine to the now shut off room. He was the sole reason you were in this whole poker night gone horribly wrong. Long lines from what little light there was in the hallway were painted clearly on the Colonel's face. "She's gone." The Groundskeeper walked in front of you, "And so is everyone else." He finished, looking at you dead in the eye. His dry and thin face only adding to his ominous words. "Wait a minute! Where the hell do you think you're going?!" The Detective called after him. He was leaning his back on the wall across from you. The Detective pointed a finger at the leaving man. "Away from here!" George's voice carried back as he walked past the Chef. "This place is cursed!" His voice cracked at the end of his sentence. "If you'd half a brain you'd all do the same." He told the small group. As he moved past the Butler, who had pressed himself to the wall to be out of the Groundskeeper's way. "Don't walk away from me!" The Colonel's now abrace voice cried, "Where's Celine?! Where's Damien?!" He looked at the group for an answer. But got none, the Chef stepped forward. "I've spent 25 years cooking for these uppity fucks, I'm not about to die for 'em! I quit! Bitch!" He yelled at the Colonel demeaningly. The Chef stormed off, pushing the Butler to the wall once more. Finally the Butler slowly made his way to the distressed Colonel, putting his still impossibly clean glove on his shoulder. "I know things seem fair beyond your control right now,"  The Butler looked him square in the eye, and his voice was empathetic. "but such that it is for all of us here." He motioned to the Detective and yourself, who were the only ones still standing there. The Butler put his other hand to his heart, "I shall take my leave, and I implore you to do the same." The Butler spoke quietly. The Colonel's face turned sharply peeved at the man, "I  won't let my friends die, in the Godforsaken house," He glared at the Butler, and then at you. Then to the Detective, "and if you all are too much of a coward to do the same..." He growled in the back of this throat. "You'd best leave before I kill you myself!" The Colonel glared daggers at you. He moved and bushed the Butler out of the way as he walked down the hallway. "Now you hold on a second! I've got more-" The Detective raced after him, grabbing by the shoulder, "Get your hands off me!" The Colonel brashly swatted away his hand. "What the hell is going on here?!" The Detective raise his arms and turned to you, as if you had the answer to his question. He gruffly scoffed and ran to chase down the Colonel.