The Shadow's Acid

XIII.

Badda-bing, badda-boom, what happened

TW: murder, blood, death, yay

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A heartbeat passed. "I was hoping it would never come to this, Grian."

"Show yourself. We don't need to drag this out."

A low chuckle echoed throughout the room. "No need to be hasty, my dear friend. Wels will arrive soon to pick you up, once I seal your fate."

"W-what do you mean?" Grian stammered.

"Grian!" Pearl shouted, her face barely lit by the lantern light. Her hands grasped the arm at her throat, clawing at it to get free. Her attempts ended in vain as the hand tightened further, restraining her efforts to choke in the little air she could.

"Don't think I didn't hear your friend, Grian! It will be so easy to frame you once we're done here. A bit more blood to spill, and my tracks will be safe from your meddling. To think I've had to spend so much energy to prevent you from discovering me, when all I had to do was throw a broken cup of tea."

"You're not making sense!"

"That was the whole point of leading you on this mysterious journey, Grian. However, I counted more on your genius. How have you not figured out who I am?" The murderer stepped into light, revealing his dark red flannel and blue jeans. The lantern light reflected dimly off his gold suspenders. Usually, there was a friendly light in his wide eyes, but there was nothing but smoldering anger this fateful night.

"Keralis," Grian groaned, "I should have known. All the clues pointed so. I was blinded by your kindness, sweetface."

"That was the intent, dear hermit. And now," he continued, "you'll pay for your skepticism. It was a wonderful run, Sherlock." The knife flashed in his hand for a millisecond, disappearing nearly as quickly as a thin red line ran across Pearl's now-exposed throat. He released her, coldly watching her collapse to the ground, gasping for air.

Grian ran forward, penknife in hand, dodging Keralis as he ran toward the exit. Drops of blood splattered the front of his flannel, barely noticeable against the red fabric. Grian knelt by Pearl, pressing a strip of cloth against her throat. He gave up the fruitless endeavor, lifting his cousin into his lap as she took her final breaths. The lack of oxygen had killed her as blood ran in a hot stream down her neck. He lifted her hand to his head, caressing her soft features as they relaxed in death.

Injustice welled inside Grian as he comprehended what Keralis had done. Whether he stayed or returned to the surface had no consequence, he concluded. Wels had certainly arrived at the Labyrinth entrance, and was likely hurrying to the scene of the crime, spurred on by Keralis' frantic words.

Silent tears rolled down his face, his body deprived of the energy needed to even wipe away the salty insults to his dignity. He cradled Pearl's body, oblivious to the telltale clinks of Wels' armor as he arrived in the cavern. The Ravagers huffed blowing hot air throughout the cave. Grian straightened, turning to face his accuser.

"I know... you probably won't believe my story, even if I told it to you." He chuckled hollowly. "I mean, what can you put against the facts? I'm here with my dead cousin, penknife next to the body, an angry Keralis, and blood everywhere. Not even previous work could budge the evidence on my shoulders."

Wels approached the detective, one hand on the hilt of his iron sword. "I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. I've watched you work, and I appreciate the methodology you use and how thorough you are. Even though detective work is not my expertise, I think I could see if you were trying to deceive us."