Chapter 4

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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.

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