Fanfic: Murder at Myron’s 🦉 Part 2/4

Hey Poptropicans, this is a guest post by Magic Kid. Enjoy!

Howdy guys! It’s Magic Kid, again, and I’m back with the second part in my latest fanfiction: Murder at Myron’s! If you have no idea what’s going on, you can read the first part here.

Guys, I am having WAY too much fun writing this, I’d forgotten how satisfactory it was to leave innocent readers on cliffhangers.

Last time I left you guys, you were introduced into a villain get-together dinner party, which was all jolly good fun until Winston returned to the party with the news that Myron Van Buren is MISSING!

*comical gasps from the crowd*

Where did he go? You’ll have to read for yourself to find out…

Murder at Myron’s

(Part 2/4)

Lightning split the sky, illuminating the scene.

Mordred was looking piercingly at Winston, as though he was reading his mind to see if this was some sort of prank. Director D was looking politely surprised. Moreau made a small gasp that was so comically French of her that Daphne sniggered. Ringmaster Raven did not seem affected by the news and remained still.

Captain Crawfish, on the other hand, spit out a drink and banged the empty cup on the table with a loud “HE’S MISSIN’?”. Gretchen Grimlock (whom Crawfish’s drink had been spat out on) was scowling and looked disgusted. Black Widow couldn’t care less. And Count Bram sat up a little straighter in his chair, waiting to hear more.

I, Merlin, was shocked to hear that the host had disappeared. I wondered what had happened to him and was very curious to find out. Excited (though very concerned), I started to fly around Mordred’s head.

“I’ve looked everywhere!” Winston said heavily. “He’s nowhere in the house — or outside, for that matter.”

“Odd,” Moreau said. “He’s normally the first one present for these sorts of things.”

“Very odd indeed,” agreed Raven.

Gretchen mused, “He ALWAYS makes a big scene whenever he’s at a party. Something must be wrong if he’s not around…”

Captain Crawfish stood up. “I’m going to go find him!” He started to walk out of the room.

“Wait!” Winston said. “We should go in groups to search. I hate to be the paranoid one, but something’s definitely off. It wouldn’t be safe to go alone.”

“Alright,” Crawfish sighed. “Which one of you lot wants to come with me?”

I immediately flew over. I would very much like to come on the search. Mordred grudgingly followed me as well as Ringmaster Raven, Black Widow, Gretchen Grimlock, and (though she was already at the door, ready to go) Daphne.

“Woah, alright then!” Crawfish said gruffly, surprised that there were so many people who wanted to come with him.

The group walked out into the vastly open foyer. Though the rain pounded on the roof and the wind whistled past the windows, it was strangely quiet.

“Hold up,” Raven said. “Isn’t it a little unnecessary if all of us go together? Shouldn’t we split up into pairs to cover more of this house quickly or…”

“You’re right,” Daphne said thoughtfully. And then she announced: “ALRIGHT PEOPLE! We go in pairs!”

Then she started grouping up people and sending them off to different parts of the house. “Crawfish, Gretchen: Kitchen! Black Widow, Mordred: trophy room! And then me and Raven will check outside! Let’s go!”

Black Widow and Mordred looked horrified about having to search together and glared at each other as they briskly walked in the direction of the trophy room.

Crawfish and Gretchen shuffled to the kitchen, murmuring about Myron and how annoying it was for him to be missing.

“Ah,” Daphne sighed happily. “I LOVE bossing people around!”

“Wait!” I said as the last two went to get their coats. “What about me?!”

Daphne had just realized I was there and quickly said,“Oh, uh, just wander around, I guess, maybe you could see if you could join one of the pairs? It doesn’t really matter.”

And then she and Raven went outside into the storm.

I debated the groups I could follow. Daphne and Raven were going outside, in the storm and the rain. That didn’t sound too appealing. Joining Black Widow and Mordred definitely wasn’t on the top of my list either, they disliked each other so much and I was not fond of the idea of being in the middle of that. I didn’t know Gretchen or Crawfish too well, so I wasn’t sure if I wanted to join them either.

All in all I decided to join each group for a little bit each. That way I wouldn’t be stuck with one group too long, and I could do a better job narrating every part of this story.

I flew over to the kitchen. When I entered, it had appeared that Crawfish had been sampling the unfinished dinner while Gretchen scolded him. 

“Oh,” Gretchen said when I entered and when I was struggling against the weight of the door. “You’ll be joining us?”

“Just for a little bit!” I replied.

“AYE! This soup is tasty! I need to get me-self a chef like this!” Crawfish said while slurping up the contents of a spoon.

“Crawfish,” Gretchen said warningly, the way a babysitter would say to a small child who is testing her patience.

“Aye. Alright, back to searching,” Crawfish sighed. He dropped the spoon into the sink and trudged off to the big walk-in freezer in the corner of the large kitchen. 

He opened the door. “Brrr, cold in here, isn’t it?”

While Gretchen went to investigate the pantry, I examined the stove area.

The burners probably needed to be cleaned soon. There was a pot of simmering soup on the back burner (It was “tasty!” according to Crawfish), and on the front burner, a pot of boiling potatoes. On the counter on a stained piece of paper was a shopping list (Salt, Tomatoes, Strawberry Jam, Blackberries, Herbs for seasoning). I jumped down from the counter and onto the tiled floor. I glanced into the oven and could make out a turkey baking. The startling thing about this turkey was that its head was still on. Freaky.

I flapped around the kitchen a bit, but couldn’t find Myron, nor see any evidence of where he had gotten to.

“Alright! Thanks for letting me poke around a bit!” I say cheerfully to the two who were now bickering again because Crawfish apparently kept eating all the food.

---

Next, I decided to go outside with Ringmaster Raven and Daphne Dreadnaught. The wind and rain had just slowed down slightly and it would be best to take advantage of it before it got worse again.

It took me a while to find them outside. It was extremely dark and I ended up having to turn on my eyes (they are not just eyes, but also flashlights — Robot Powers™).

“Who’s that?” Daphne said as I flapped over to the tree where they were. “Oh, it’s you, okay.”

Raven was crouched down by the tree, examining a slight disturbance in the bark and dirt. Daphne seemed to be exasperated about this.

“RAVEN. THERE’S. NOTHING. THERE. Let’s go look somewhere else!”

He was so focused he did not acknowledge that he had heard her, he just continued to frown at the soil.

“ARGH!” Daphne started circling around the tree, frustrated.

“Hmm,” Raven said finally, tilting his head slightly.

Daphne jumped by him. “Was that a ‘Hmm’ I just heard? What do you have, Sherlock?”

“Well,” Raven said slowly, standing up. “I think someone climbed this tree recently. Look at the scrapped bark, the broken branches, the fallen pine-needles and pine-cones. And the window, look up at the window of the cabin by this tree, it’s open! Someone climbed this tree and snuck into the house.”

“How recently?” Daphne asked, curious. Any trace of frustration had disappeared. She had to shout a bit over the wind.

“Mmmmm. Very recent. Especially with this wind, it would normally make the dirt scuffs less pronounced, which means whoever climbed this tree probably did it moments before we came outside!”

I was surprised at this new bit of evidence. After finding out NOTHING in the kitchen, this information was pretty big.

“But where does the window lead to?” I ask.

“OOH! I KNOW! It leads to the trophy room,I think!” Daphne contributed eagerly.

The three of us paused, and then in unison, ran to the house door. It was locked. Daphne spam-pressed the doorbell (“TAL– TAL– TAL–TAL–-TAL”) until an irritated Winston opened it (“TAL–TAL–TALLY HO!”).

We barreled past him and into the house, with Winston completely startled. And then we flew, Daphne in the lead, to the trophy room across the cabin.

The door banged open.

“Goodness, Merlin, what are you doing?!” Mordred said angrily. 

“Someone’s in here who shouldn’t be!” Raven said, beginning to search every nook and cranny of the room.

“You’re right!” Black Widow said. “You three!”

“No no no no no!” Daphne explained. “Someone came in through the window!”

Mordred looked startled. “What?! The window’s up so high!”

“Tree,” Daphne said bluntly while searching thoroughly. 

Understanding the danger of an uninvited guest being here — it could be that Poptropican kid who’s always snooping and ruining the villains’ plans, perhaps with backup this time, coming to lock all the villains up! — Mordred and Black Widow joined in ransacking the place.

After only a few seconds of frantic searching, Black Widow opened a tall cupboard and screamed.

She had found Myron Van Buren.

The only problem was:

He was dead.

TO BE CONTINUED

(Please remember this is a fanfiction and nothing should be taken seriously :] ~Magic Kid)

---

Hope you enjoyed this guest post by Magic Kid. If you did, check out her previous fanfiction titled “Zombies, Zombies, Always Zombies!”.

The Poptropica Help Blog welcomes interesting Poptropica insights from anyone in the Poptropica community with thoughts to share. Interested in writing for the PHB? We’d love to hear from you!