You were unsure of where to start. You could find Benjamin, but he seemed shaken up enough as is. The chef seemed like a viable suspect, but you were genuinely afraid he would kill you if you tried to speak to him. Damien, of course, wasn't a suspect in your mind. You've known him since you were both kids, he never had it in him to hurt anybody. Sure, sometimes he'd get angry, but so did everyone else. That left the Colonel. He seemed like an alright guy, but you had to start somewhere. Problem was, you hadn't seen him all day and you had no clue where he was.

Suddenly, you heard muffled yelling. That answered your question. Sneaking down the hallway, you saw a door was cracked. That seemed to be where the voices were coming from. They got louder as you got closer. It sounded like... Damien? You crept closer to the door to hear what he was saying.

"...can you be so flippant?"

"Flippant?" The Colonel. "I'm taking this matter very ser-"

"Oh, don't give me that horseshit! I know you hated him, but... God damn it, he reached out to you!"

"What do you want from me?"

"I WANT YOU TO CARE!"

"Just because I'm not weeping like a child doesn't mean that I don't care!"

"I can't believe you, Will." He sounded so hurt. Of course he did, his friend was dead and his other friend didn't care. You made a mental note the the Colonel's name was Will. "You come find me when you pull your head out of your ass."

You heard footsteps approaching the door, and by the time you realized what that meant, it was too late. Damien pushed the door open, causing you to stumble back. He couldn't even look at you.

"Damien-"

"Excuse me," he mumbled, pushing past you. You turned and grabbed his arm.

"Damien! Are you alright?" You were concerned about your best friend. You knew he wasn't, but you wanted to help.

"What do you think, (y/n)? Mark is dead and that fool doesn't give a damn. And you." You winced. "Listening in at the door. What happened to privacy? I'm sorry, I really should go." He pushed past you once more.

You gave a feeble "I'm sorry" as he retreated down the hall and out of sight. Tears began to well up in your eyes, but you quickly wiped them away and forced all signs of emotion off of your face. Right now, you had a job to do. Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the door and entered the room.

"Damien, I don't- oh." Will turned to face you. "Ah, good to see you again! You were quite the rapscallion at last night's festivities!" He sounded much too cheerful. Did he even know Mark was dead?

"Colonel, I'm here about Mark."

"Of course, you're probably here to help the detective with his "investigation of murder."" he put the last part in finger quotations. Lightening struck outside. "I'll help you. I'll tell you what happened to our dear friend Mark." He sounded bitter. Suddenly, he threw his arms up. "Oh, look at me! I'm Markiplier now! Forget all my friends who helped me along the way! Just look at my money! Oh, I need to pay people to be my friend!" He was doing a very poor impression of Mark. The man you knew wasn't like that. Mark did care about his friends. That's why you were all here, right?

"Stop it," you said quietly.

"Ha ha ha! You like me? Too bad!" He pretended to take a swig from a bottle. "Glug glug! Oh, oopsie poopsie, I can't hold my alcohol! I have to go to the little boys' room, who wants to join me?" He was very clearly getting into it, becoming louder and louder with each passing second. You were getting scared.

"Please stop," you said a little louder.

"I'm going to go up my stairs! My house has more than one staircase!" He continued. "Oh look at me and how great I am! Oh no, I'm falling! Oh, I'm dead!" He finished angrily. It was clear how he felt about his "friend."

"ENOUGH!" You couldn't take it anymore. The Mark you knew cared about people. He would never do or say anything like that. You felt tears sliding down your cheeks. You hadn't even realized you were crying. "You were his friend! He cared about you, that's why you're here! He cared about you, and now he's dead! Are you happy? Is that what you wanted, Will?" You were shouting now, too. You refused to look the Colonel in the eye. That would just make it worse. You sat down on one of the chairs in the room. So much for not breaking down. The Colonel was silent.

After moment, he sat in the chair next to you. "I'm sorry." You didn't respond. "I... I didn't really mean it. But... I know you haven't spoken to Mark in a few years. He'd changed since you last saw him. I don't really hate him, I just wasn't exactly happy with him either." You still said nothing. Apart from the occasional sniffle, you were silent. "I'm sorry I upset you. I do care that he's dead, and I am not 100% okay right now either. He was my friend, even if he was difficult to love at times." You finally looked up. The Colonel gave you a sad smile. He stood, and held out his hand to help you up. After a moment of hesitation, you took it.

"Thank you. I'm sorry for shouting. And... I'm sorry for your loss. If there's anything I can do for you, please let me know." You returned the sad smile, then gave the Colonel a quick hug. "You seem like a good man."

He chuckled. "You really are quite phenomenal, my dear. Thank you. Now, I'm sure you have some investigating to do. I wish you the best of luck. I still need some time to myself." You nodded and turned to leave. "Oh, and if it's not too much trouble, can you please tell Damien I'm sorry?"

"Of course." You gave him one last smile before you left the room.

The second you stepped out of the room, you heard a voice whisper "Hey!" It was Benjamin, waiting in the hall. "Come with me. I need to tell you something." He seemed a lot more... Together than before. You were glad he was alright. He led you down the hallway and through the living room, taking you into another hallway that you'd never been down before.

"Where are we going?" You asked.

"Somewhere private. I don't want anyone else hearing this." He continued down the hall. "If you're looking for answers, there's really no mystery at all. There's not a single detail of this house that I'm not privy to, and not a single guest that I've not personally vetted. Now, I know you're not going to like what I tell you, but I promise I'm doing this for you. For your safety."
He walked through the kitchen and stopped at a staircase that led into what you assumed was a basement of some kind. Staring into the darkness, he looked nervous. "After you."

"Benjamin, I don't understand-"

"Please, miss, after you."

You nodded and made your way down the stairs. When you got to the bottom, you saw that it was a rather fancy wine cellar. A bottle lay broken on the floor.

"Oh dear," said Benjamin as he rushed to grab a broom and dustpan. "I-I'm so sorry you had to see this. Oh, master would be so displeased." He let out a sob. "If he were still alive!"

"Benjamin," you said, crouching down next to him as he cleaned up the mess. "I am so sorry for your loss, but I need you to focus. Why did you bring me down here, what were you going to tell me?"

It was a while before he calmed down enough to speak "I... I shouldn't lose it like that. No use crying over spilled milk, right? Or wine, anyway. Master Mark always told me I was too sensitive." He was beginning to ramble.

You put one hand on his shoulder and held the dustpan for him. "Ben, it's okay to get upset. You've just lost a friend. I understand how awful this must be for you. But I need some help. Someone here hurt Mark and you know something. So please, focus." You tried to be gentle with him. You were close to losing it yourself.

"Right, privacy. Now, I know everybody in this house, every last detail. And... I don't trust the mayor. I know about your relationship, but please be careful around him. I don't know for sure if he had something to do with this, but I implore you to keep an eye out." He finished sweeping and took the full dustpan back. You both stood, and it took you a second to process the information.

"What has Damien ever done to you?" It was only right to defend him. "He couldn't hurt a fly," you said, still trying to wrap your mind around it. "I know he has a bit of a temper sometimes, but he would never kill anyone! Mark was one of his best friends. I'm sorry, but I trust Damien with my life. He has nothing to do with this."

"Oh, I knew you wouldn't like that. I'm sorry, (y/n), I d-didn't mean to upset you. If you'll excuse me, I should dispose of this." He took the dustpan and broom and left. You were still unsure what to think of everything. You still hadn't even fully accepted the fact that Mark was dead. And now you were just told that Damien, the only person you knew had nothing to do with this, couldn't be trusted.

Just then, you realized that the butler had said something about a relationship with Damien. You almost chased Benjamin down to question him. You had no "relationship." He was your best friend, that was all. Obviously, the butler didn't know half as much as he thought he did.

Collecting your thoughts and gathering your courage, you began the climb back up the staircase.

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