The Graveyard

errrr...(two extra 'r's for the desired effect)

What are you going on about, Mich?

Okay, STOP FUCKING POSTING IN HERE POST WHORES!!!!!!!

Post your death scenes here, please.

The detective should guess here as well.

To all others, after the detective has guessed (correctly), I may open a chat thread here so you can discuss what gave it away, who died in a really cool way, etc., but ONLY after the detective gets it right!

I wander aimlessly through the halls, congratulating myself silently on a particularly difficult riddle I’d set as password for my Ravens to play with. My smile must be slightly wicked because I get odd looks from some students as they walk by. I mentally remind myself that scaring the students is wrong and fix a more pleasant expression on my face. Still, I feel the tingle of delight in messing with my Ravens and resist the urge to cackle out loud.

I have considered that I might be slightly insane but my friends have assured me that we all go a little crazy at one point. It’s the result of choosing to remain cooped up inside and playing with simulacrums of the various characters in my favourite books. Although I’ve been told before that it’s perfectly normal to want to rearrange the lives of characters in books, although I probably shouldn’t make it a habit. It scares the students and, as I’ve been told by many of my students (who understand their Head better than I’m ready to admit), it ruins the image of the studious Ravenclaw they try so hard to emulate (even though we all know that my Ravens are less studious and more like their Head then they’d like to admit).

The thought of making mini-Kyo finally admit to mini-Tohru that he loves her makes me grin and I know for certain that there’s no pretending my grin isn’t wicked anymore. In my haste to get back to my quarters I almost miss the figure in the corner. Almost, but not quite.

The tripping jinx is ridiculously easy, I think as the stone steps rush up to meet my face. Ridiculously easy and terribly clever. My last thoughts before the blackness swallows me whole is that I’m rather disappointed that I didn’t get the more dramatic death I’d always said I wanted.

I smile as I walk down the corridors. I always loved to sneak out, wander aimlessly in the moonlit halls. Of course, I had to watch out for anyone else, but I'd never been caught.

This time, however, I was being much more cautious. There had been a death. The death of Alex, the Head of Ravenclaw. Teachers were calling it an accident, that she tripped and landed unfortunately. But none of them looked like they were completely certain of it.

I pause in my steps, listening hard. I can hear the soft breathing of the portraits, but nothing more. I continue.

Suddenly, my throat constricts. It gets tighter and tighter, until I wheeze for breath. My left hand fumbles for my wand and my right flails aimlessly. With horror, I realise I forgot my wand back in the Common Room. ' Oh no...'

A figure steps out of the shadows, a smile on their lips. Their wand is in their hand, and it is pointed straight at me.

"Ever heard of the Choking Jinx?" They say sweetly. "It's banned, but it's not like anyones going to notice. It'll just be another... Accident."

My hands go to my throat and tears escape as I sink to the floor. 'You sneaky... Cunning little...' I thought dizzily.

"Goodbye," they say politely, and even gave a little wave as blackness surrounded me.

I was going to accuse her, but since she died...

That counts as an accusation btw, so another death is required after Mist for me to guess.

My eyebrows furrowed as I stared at the library in front of me. Somehow, the contents were not keeping my attention. Then again, it would be hard for mr yo concentrate anyway. One of my Gryffindor friends and a Ravenclaw - the Head of Ravenclaw, mind you - had been killed.

I sighed as I leaned back and rubbed the bridge of my nose. The teachers and students were frantically trying to find the killer but to no avail. I would have been more than willing to help find the murderer but none of the teachers were willing to disclose any information to the students.

I leaned forward and glared at the book, as if it would suddenly tell me the answers to my questions.

After a while, I slammed the book shut and walked over to the bookshelves to replace it. I stared at the Restricted Section. For some reason, it seemed to be beckoning at me today. It was, of course, not the first time I had snuck in there.

I looked at where Madam Pince was.

Good. She was talking to one of the students. I would just smuggle one book out of the Section and read it in my room. A small sigh escaped my mouth as I remembered that I would have to pass the rope to reach the part of the bookshelves I had not read it.

With another glance at Madam Pince, I passed the rope and quickly, but quietly moved towards the section of books I had not touched yet.

I grinned as my fingers ran over the title of the books. A soft mutter to my right caused me to look over. My eyes widened, not understanding why I had not noticed her there.

I was about to calm down when a rumble above my head caused me to look up.

"Good bye," the person said as the books crashed on top of me.

"You..."

A smile appeared on the person's face as they turned and walked away without a sound.

I realized that the school would only believe that it was another accident since I was not supposed to be in the Restricted Section in the first place. I would have been easily killed because of one of the dangerous books.

As blackness swallowed my conscious, my last thought was how ingenious the plan was.

(Frowning)
It could be Lildanni.

I resent the implication! How dare you! I demand a lawyer! I am guilty I say, gu—

er. Wait..

yeah okay, you got me. lol

Lol, it's either you and asaelia. Since three people were already dead, and only three of us left, it was easy to deduce. We really should get more active members : /

And here starts Game 3...

Alex is the detective. Same rules apply.

I scowl down at the object on my desk, illuminated only by the orange light of a single candle. It had, of course, been given to me be a colleague who was nothing like me, similar educations aside, and knew nothing of me. A journal? Honestly. As if I, the Head of Slytherin, would write down my private thoughts where anyone could get a hold of them. Still…

I open the leather-bound book, stroking the fine paper with fingers made paler by the light-source. Perhaps I can use it for taking notes as I craft my potions—some of the finer brews I’m tweaking do need attention to precise detail.

I frown as grit collects under my fingertips, and I bring them away from the pages, rubbing them together. It was a fine powder of some kind. I sniff it, trusting in my finely attuned nose to tell me what it was made of.

My eyes widen as I recognize a deadly form of poison, the amount on my fingers not enough to kill me, but had I gotten more than a whiff of it, I could’ve been ill for days. Had I actually tasted it—I shudder at the thought. If no one found me within the first twelve hours, I could still have died, low dosage aside.

I stare at the book for a moment, wondering if this attempt on my life had, indeed, been intentional—and how would anyone accidentally get this deadly a poison onto the book? my more cynical side demands—and who could have done it. Surely not the one who had gifted the journal to me. She is perhaps clever enough to do it, but she doesn’t seem to be the subtle type that would use a method like this. And what motive is there for her to kill me, anyway?

Wiping my fingers off carefully on a handkerchief, I cautiously collect a slightly bigger sample and fold the cloth around it. I should be able to figure out who made the poison, given enough time to run the proper tests.

~~~

One well placed spell from my murderer—I could already feel the death rushing through my veins—and the package exploded in my hands, coating my mouth and nose in a fine layer of poison.

In my final moments, I realize that I had underestimated my gift-giver.

There I was, sitting innocently at my table eating the christmas roast and potatoes. They were delicious and my eyes scanned the Great Hall for anything unusual, or worth torment. There were the Gryffindors, laughing together: the norm, the Ravenclaws, debating some debatable topic: the norm, and the Hufflepuffs giggling about the gossip column in the paper: the norm. Yes, some were looking fearful, but most seemed to think little of a recent death.

Only one thing seemed out of place. She was standing behind her chair with a small, nicely wrapped gift in hand searching my table with her hawk-like eyes. Of course, it was christmas time and many presents had been exchanged, but most people did this in dormetories or in private, not in the Great Hall. I watched her look about and was startled when she motioned for me to join her. Looking around to see if someone else was her intended target, I realized that everyone nearby was involved in some sort of conversation and not making eye contact with her.

Reluctantly leaving my half eaten dinner, I walked toward the smiling woman. She seemed so peaceful and happy, but I was wondering how this could be so, since the head of my house recently suffered from a horrible death. Maybe I am just too perceptive.

"Yes?" I asked with a bit of irritability ringing in my voice.

"Happy Christmas," she said, putting the small silver box in my hands. I smiled awkwardly and looked up to say thanks, but she had already walked away. I observed the small box and turned around to meet many curious stares. Embarrassed, I stumbled off to my dorm to see what lay underneath the wrapping.

The crackling of the paper made me smile as I saw a jewelry box, of dark green felt. "Well at least the case is a suitable color!" I said as I opened its jaw-like hinges.

Inside was a brilliant necklace with diamonds strung to make intricate patterns that could catch anyone's eye. "Woah!" I thought, in utter amazement. Why would she spend so much money on such a thing? I hardly wore necklaces and was now contemplating selling it. I stared at the stones and couldn't pull my eyes away. Seriously! They wouldn't move no matter how hard I tried! A tricky charm that would require some tricky counterspell. I reached for my wand but it was too late. A burst of white light flooded around me and everything went dark. The necklace of beauty, a gift from the killer, had, through my eyes, entered my brain, and completely destroyed it by ravenously ripping it apart and destroying my central control system. The Gift of Death, killed me from the inside with no warning.

The blizzard yesterday had left a few hefty inches of fluffy snow, perfect for a couple of hours of snowfights. The whole school seemed to be in on it, with everyone out in the sheepish sun admiring the pristine view that was picturesque Hogwarts. The only exception was that all of the Slytherins were absent, mourning over the loss of some poor unfortunate student. Her gory death was to be acknowledged tomorrow in ceremony of condolence.

I was running for my life--well, not literally, as I was part of a big InterHouse snowball war, taking place in front of the castle. I could hear the joyous laughs of the younger years getting distant as I fell back to regroup. Of course, I needed to think about a suitable strategy, seeing as the Gryffindors decided to go on an all-out-attack. I wouldn't want to get hit, because getting cold and wet was the greatest of my worries.

Flurries were thrown at our direction, and soon the Ravenclaws had
scattered around the nearby forest. I was formulating a plan at the back my mind as I dodged the frozen intertwining branches of the trees. I forgot to wear my scarf today, so thinking was a bit hard considering that the cold wind was biting my neck, sending shivers down my spine. I stopped at a fallen tree trunk and sat, catching my breath. The gloves I was wearing didn't warm my neck enough when I rubbed them.

I heard quick movement a few trees ahead, and then the wet slushing of running feet. I snuck behind one pine and peeked around, only to see a blue and purple wool scarf dangling by a stray branch. I walked towards it, careful not to slip or trip on something. I reached for it and examined it in my hands. A small tag was on it, reading "Happy Christmas!" How thoughtful, I said to myself, and it's my favorite color, too.

I was deep into the forest, and no one could have possibly left this here unless it was for me, so I wrapped around my neck. Instant relief flooded over me when it warmed my neck enough to think--now I could get back at those reckless Gryffindors. I ambled through the thick snow, hearing the slush as I did.

Then I stopped. Those footsteps aren't mine.

I turned swiftly around, only to find her there, leaning by a pine tree, smiling. "Do you like my gift?" she said.

"It was very considerate of you. Thanks so much," I said, grinning back.

She lifted a hand, and then it happened. The warm scarf, snug around my neck, became tight, too tight in fact, that it was squeezing my windpipe and strangling me. My breath was quick and staccato, until I slumped towards the snowy ground, clawing at the demonic piece of wool.

She opened her mouth to laugh, a very sweet and cute laugh, far from sinister or diabolical. "A happy christmas indeed," she said, before my eyes closed.

249, 463.