Whodunnit? You really wanna know whodunit?
I do not normally answer questions, but let us review the case, shall we?
How easily misled they were, those innocent souls. But Mister Kennedy Holmes could not be fooled. How fervently young Laila Croon worked to determine the murderer. What role did the Psychic Nikita Rose play – false evidence, divine insight? Has young Murray Zane mathematically deduced the numbers? Or has Alex Gena failed her old friend?
A tragedy about Emma Denver, surely. What did she know? What do the dead whisper to Gray Bennet? Surely Delilah Black would have revealed his murderer to her, so why did she hide that information?
Had Sandra Thunder's generosity been a ruse? Or perhaps Edith Greene's investigations into murder itself has revealed to her some promising results? What was Kieran Ray doing on that fateful evening, in his perpetual conscious state? Perhaps Belinda Frey was digging in the garden for nefarious reasons, or Sarah Anne Dower's strange occult practices have gone too far, or ... or...
So many theories.
Yet
None
Conclusive
None
Concrete
And, so, the mystery remains. Who Killed Delilah Black?
In the aftermath, the fifty guests – those living, at least, part their ways, each with a unique account of the strange death of Delilah at the even stranger Black Estate.
The circumstances shrouding the events are fuel for whispering tongues, conspiracies, and urban legends.
They tell of a ghostly Delilah wandering the hallways, searching for retribution. They sing of an esteemed assassin, who murdered with the strike of lighting.
They say each and every guest was involved – an elaborate plot – and bear the mark of Delilah's demise.
One thing is for certain, however: the events of August have left their mark on each sorrowful guest.
Some truths will never come to light, but we will bear their memories, as if they too had died in the Tragedy of the Black Estate.
Note from TimberWoolf:
It's been a whacky month, hasn't it?
Are you looking forward to the October Community Project?
The August Whodunnit has served as an excellent and incredibly enjoyable prototype for these contests in the future, and I hope that the planning around them will only improve from here on out.
I've honestly tried my very best, but the workload involved in this contest has flooded me, and I've made the executive decision that no winners will be declared for this contest, except, of course, the murderer and their co-conspirators.
Ha, it brings me so much joy to write this chapter, because I know VexHellfire has been burning to know who the murderer is (she knows, but she wants it officially declared and I enjoy doing this to her). Your only hope, Vexy, is that the murderer confesses on their own volition.
Speaking of workloads, however, I've been struck by a wonderful little idea – a notion really – thanks to XirinofArvada who actually just straight-up suggested it. We'll be opening up for new applications to help me in the judging process, so check out the relevant chapter uploaded in conjunction with this one if you're interested.
Has anybody ever read Who Killed Peggy Sue?
I've quite been looking forward to the October Project, and I've worked it so that it's non-exclusive! More than fifty people may enter! It's a total free-for all! YAY!
Who wants a little teaser?
You? No? How about you? Yes? Yes! Very well, here we go!
It has always been the world. The world has wronged me. Its people have betrayed me. Blame it on the economy, turning hearts of purity into hearts of cruelty. Blame it on desire and greed, on games of the people who conspire in the night to destroy me – blame it on the world. Never before have I thought that I was the monster. Never have I thought that I was the one to blame – that darkness was in me, the ruin and the destruction.
Now, I realise the truth. A pitiful thing, truth, but liberating, empowering, insidious. I am not alone in this. We're all monsters hiding under the skin of people, but, now, we will live in the world without our thinly, sickly human veil. We will live as The Monsters We Become.