An Unexpected Unveiling

Accidents Are Funny Things

     The barbarous rain pounded on the roof of the mansion with all the force of a dozen plummeting boulders, thunder bursting through the threatening clouds and into the atmosphere, sounding louder than a thousand bullets. In the distance, a bolt of jagged lighting struck a field, one possibly belonging to a local farm. The cacophony outside was however nothing but soothing to the reticent man inside the mansion. He hunched over his overflowing stack of parchment, his ebony quill striking the paper furiously, words pouring out of him like a waterfall. Another burst of thunder sounded and the man jumped up in his seat, startled.

     "Oh no! I was just having a revelation, something that could make this murder scene make sense! Not easy, oh not in the slightest, but make sense as one deduces the murderer himself. Oh, and that sudden noise sent it fleeing my grasp. How frustrating!" the man rambled to himself, flustered, sitting back down in his velvet cushioned chair where he had spent many countless nights working on his novels and stories. Most were just for himself, for fun, but those he shared he was sure to put an extra amount of effort and thinking into.

  Though the rain had caused an idea to slip his mind and his ever loyal racoon to leap from his lap, the diligent young writer was perfectly content with his setting. 'It's the perfect writing weather,' Poe proclaimed. 'There aren't many other conditions more conducive to creative writing than that of a fierce storm.' 

  Poe continued writing, pleased when Karl the racoon returned to his desk, though he was somewhat indignant after being forced from his personal radiator when Poe jumped up after being startled by the storm. Instead of taking his usual seat on Poe's lap, he leapt up onto a little bed that his owner had set up just for him on the extensive desk. Karl promptly fell asleep, his soft purring further lulling Poe into what can only be described as a 'writer's trance'. Poe's wrist was moving faster than his brain, words spilling onto the page in a song known only to the author. The book he was writing that stormy night was extra special, seeing as it was his latest challenge for Ranpo, his rival.

   It was hardly the most difficult mystery he had written yet, but Poe was becoming restless with how quickly Ranpo was in and out of his stories, so he decided to put something new inside, something he was sure that would hold him longer. Both of them actually, Poe thought as he scribbled frantically. 'I might like to join him in this one,' he thought, briefly setting down his quill. Poe looked up from his writing to the wide window his desk was pushed up against. It was pointless to even attempt to see anything out of it, as the rain was so strong, but Poe did anyways, resting his face in his hand.

   'Though the case will be far too easy for the genius detective to solve, maybe he and I could have some fun afterwards. Make it a sort of two-in-one story.' he wondered. At the thought of him and Ranpo doing every day things together in his story, Poe began to blush. Even though no one was around except Karl and himself, Poe pulled his already long bangs further over his eyes.

   'Perhaps it is better that I refrain from writing this; Ranpo is sure to find it frivolous. He'll scorn me, I know it! That or beg me to show him where the nearest dessert shop is.' Poe chuckled at the mental image of Ranpo grabbing onto his arm and dragging him around town, desperately attempting to resolve the one mystery he has never been able to: finding the locations of places. He had done it before with Poe and the two of them had actually enjoyed a pleasant afternoon at a cafe once Ranpo got some food in his stomach. Smiling at the memory, Poe picked up his quill and continued writing, hopeful that maybe they would get to re-experience that moment again. Shortly afterwards though, he set down the feather.

   'No, no, I will never establish myself as a worthy rival to him that way, not if we are acting silly in one of my stories, that's lunacy! Besides, what if he begins to think...no, Poe! Don't say it, or think it, rather. That's even more ludicrous than being viewed as inferior. You feel no such way and even if you did, Rampo is the absolute last person who needs to know. You have actually managed to build some sort of bond with him, don't you dare go on and blight it now!'