It was one in the morning. Misha dragged everyone together — including Dante and Iffrah. Dante let out a yawn, then stretched like it was nothing. Iffrah, meanwhile, wore her scarf as a hijab, though it would do nothing to hide her coming reaction. The others looked a little worn out, and seeing as they were still wearing their normal clothing, they seemed to have had a cold and weary sleep.

“What’s going on?” Dante asked.

“Come with me, everyone,” Misha said, and she directed the group down the hall and to the end where Calina waited, standing by Baron’s door with a bolt cutter in her hands.

“A bolt cutter?” Erika mumbled, and Wright was the one to perk up with surprise.

“Don’t tell me — you had to cut his room’s chain?”

“It is bad day. It is very bad day today,” Calina whispered, and she set the cutter aside in favor of the door.

“Before we go inside, I’d like to ask one question,” Misha said. “Who was the one who took Baron’s coin from the table?”

Silence. Noone spoke up. They all looked to one another, then to Misha who let out a sigh.

“Then perhaps this was meant to be,” Misha said, and she pulled open the sliding door to reveal just what was behind.

“Mister Baron? Baron!?” Aki said, her eyes wide — utterly awake.

“God, forgive his soul,” Iffrah whispered, grasping her head.

“This can’t be real… This just can’t be real!” Erika cried.

Dante grabbed his head, then crumbled to his knees, whispering, “We’re all fucked.”

Baron was dead. Or at least, he wasn’t alive. Dante couldn’t quite tell. At this point, Baron was in a state of limbo. Every gruesome, bloody detail pointed to the fact his life had been snuffed away like a candle, but a singular clue kept his soul alive.

“Erika… Aki… Wright… Calina… Howell… Baron… Misha…”

“Erika… Aki… Wright… Calina… Howell… Baron… Misha…”

The message repeated. Baron’s corpse laid in the center of the room. Someone had taken a sharp blade to his limbs, hacking off each one and meticulously laying them out and inside the perimeter of a blood traced circle. Symbols filled that circle like a transmutation circle.

A red VI had been carved into his chest like a tattoo done with a kitchen knife.

The body had been dismembered and Baron’s chest had been opened up. His internal organs had been scattered. His stomach opened up with the stew inside spilled out in a foul puddle, his entrails laid out like the threads of a spool. A stump laid at his neck where his head had been stolen away — his throat-hole stitched up in a crude surgical job.

“Erika… Aki… Wright… Calina… Howell… Baron… Misha…”

The voice. It was Baron’s voice for sure, and while Baron didn’t have a head or internal organs, he still somehow spoke.

“Erika… Aki… Wright… Calina… Howell… Baron… Misha…”

“Where is that voice coming from?” Dante asked, and Misha shrugged.

“I haven’t touched the crime scene, as of yet,” she answered.

Iffrah grabbed her head, then let out a painful whimper.

“His voice. He’s still alive. He’s been butchered by a demon — a demon who is so cruel that she leaves her victims with a shred of life, hanging on by just an inch.”

“Iffrah, get a grip,” Dante said. “This isn’t the work of a demon. This is something a human did.”

“But Baron, he’s in pain,” Iffrah said. “He’s begging us to end it. He’s calling out to us all, just begging for us to help.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Dante said, and he reached to his waist to pull out a little dagger — one he used to poke at the body.

“Don’t touch his corpse. You’ll get in the way of police investigations,” Misha said, and Dante scoffed.

“In this weather and in a castle like this, the police are never arriving.”

With his knife, he cut open the stitched-together throat. Inside it was the source of the sound. A tape recorder had been stuffed into Baron’s throat and on the recorder itself were bloody fingerprints galore. Unfortunately, they were made with gloves, leaving no real culprit evidence behind.

“See?” Dante asked, revealing the truth. “This is no demonic feat. This crime was committed by a human.”

“One problem,” Misha said, and she pointed to the window, then to the hanging chain which was cut in two.

“Don’t tell me —” Dante muttered, and Misha nodded.

“This is a closed room. The door was locked and chained shut. The window was locked and closed shut.” and she threw up her arms, saying, “There’s nowhere for the culprit to hide. There’s no way for this room to be kept closed without the culprit staying inside of it.”

“That’s insane,” Dante said, the strength in his voice all but sapped.

“Additionally, me and Calina did a full search on the castle’s interior,” Misha said. “As far as I know, inside of this castle, there is no tenth culprit.”

Misha then led the group towards the closet. Inside was a set of clothing that had been splattered with blood, clothes that were shoved into the tight space, dirtying everything it touched. They didn’t look like anyone’s in particular — almost drab and random. Additionally, hairs were picked out of the clothing, though none of them matched the seven remaining survivors.

“It appears the culprit killed Baron, then disposed of their dirty clothing in this closet,” Misha stated. “Additionally, there is a weapon.”

“Where?” Dante asked, and she kicked over the closet to reveal the weapon hidden behind.

Behind the closet was a giant katana. Misha went ahead and picked it up, dangling it downwards to reveal the blood soaked blade. There, however, was something strange about it.

“What happened to the blade here?” Dante asked. “The end — there’s a big circular chip.”

“That’s the mark of a pirate’s sword,” Aki said. “Pirates in the past would steal swords off the corpses of samurais they’ve killed. As a mark of disrespect, they’d chip the end of the blade.”

“So, what sort of sword is this?” Misha asked, stamping it into the wooden floor.

Aki leaned into the handle of the blade, then the body, and finally the ridge.

“This isn’t any cheap sword. A sword like this belongs in either a museum or a historic collection,” Aki said. “The sword was forged by the legendary blacksmith, Imaji Imasa. Legend says that his blades were cursed, and that their wielders would have an insatiable bloodlust.”

“Well, this sword must be drinking happily, seeing as this was the mess it left behind,” Misha muttered.

Erika mumbled to herself, whispering, “Cursed castles, flowers from Hell, demonic swords and impossible closed room murders. There’s no way a human could be responsible for something like this.”

Dante mulled over every detail, and as the night went on, the group cleared away from the crime scene. Misha locked the room shut and sent everyone off — everyone but Dante who stood and stared at the door.

“What’s wrong?” Misha asked, watching as he grabbed the door, inspecting every part of the frame.

“I don’t believe it,” he answered. “I refuse to believe that we’re being haunted by a demon.”

“It’s a closed room. There’s no way in and no way out. There are no secret passages and the corpse is Baron’s for sure. I don’t know what more you could want. All the evidence points towards an impossible murder.”

“You’re not hiding anything from us, are you?” he asked, and Misha let out a scoff.

“You don’t trust me, do you?”

“How could I? Who’s to say that this wasn’t done by a human? Who’s to say you and Calina both did this?”

Misha reached into the inside of her coat, then pulled out a singular piece of proof — proof that raised her above everyone in terms of credibility.

“That badge…” Dante muttered and she nodded.

“I’m Misha Asimov, a detective for the Cliesen City Police Department.”

Dante returned to his room, but when he tried to slide it open, he found that it had been locked from the inside. When he knocked, the door opened to reveal that he had guests.

Inside was Aki and Wright accompanied by Iffrah. The three of them were quick to pull him inside before locking the door behind him.

“Hey, what’s this about?” Dante asked, and Wright put a finger over his lips.

Aki sat on a chair while Iffrah sat next to Dante. Wright stood by the window which was locked tight. The winter winds continued to blow, endlessly, and the blizzard hadn’t let up. Not yet, at least.

“What did you see out there?” Wright asked, standing by the window, peering out to the white aurora.

“I met Virgil. He spoke through a tape recorder, and when I tried chasing after him, he led me to the edge of a cliff. It was Iffrah who saved my life.”

“Do you think Virgil was some sort of paranormal entity, leading you to your death?”

“There’s no way. I don’t believe in Gods or demons and I stand firm in that belief,” Dante said. “There’s nothing you can do to make me believe this was done by anyone other than a person.”

“Well, we were all locked in our own rooms. That means it was none of us who did it, right?” Aki asked, and Wright shook his head.

“The doors can be locked and unlocked from the inside. Someone could’ve left, committed the murder, then returned to their room.”

“Nonsense,” Iffrah said. “It was a closed room. Until that chain was cut, there was no possible way for the killer to leave. It’s not like they cut themselves into little bits and escaped through the drain of a bathtub.”

“Speaking of closed rooms,” Dante muttered, “earlier, Misha accused us of stealing the master key, then accused us of pretending to have said key be in Howell’s possession.”

“But that key was locked behind the case — one that can only be opened with the same key,” Iffrah said, and Dante nodded.

“How could you get the master key without breaking the case… unless…”

“Unless there’s a second one,” Iffrah mumbled.

Aki spoke up. “The master key belongs to the master of this castle. Howell’s room was locked, and seeing as Misha held every single key in the castle, there was no key available — no key that could open his room.”

“The master of this castle…” Dante whispered, and he turned to Aki, saying, “Tell me! Tell me the history of this castle! Who owned it!?”

“A woman named Byakko. She was said to have demonic blood, but according to the legends, she died a hundred years ago.”

“We have the queen, then how about a king?”

“She was said to have been betrothed to a boy named Ruka, but he died before their marriage was properly sealed. Apparently, they were very close, but when they invited a stranger into their home, it was said that that stranger poisoned Ruka who was already ill with a terminal illness.”

“Who is that stranger?” Dante asked, and she put a hand to her chin.

“He was someone not from around here, and yet, he had the blood of a south Heshan,” she said. “His name… it was Sen.”

Sen. The name rang through Dante’s ears.

“Tell me more. Who was this Sen? Were there any more people?”

“Well, from what I know, Sen was the only one,” Aki answered. “I remember reading about the legend, but that’s all there is to it. No more details beyond that.”

“Sen, Byakko, Ruka…” Dante mumbled. “A stranger, a girl with cursed blood and a boy who was terminally ill.” and he stood up, saying, “I know what we have to do.”

The group returned to their own rooms to sleep, and in the morning, they found that they were all still alive. The snowstorm had calmed, slightly, but it was still far too dangerous to travel away from the castle lest they wanted to end up like Howell or food for wolves.

The rest gathered, but Dante chose to be alone. He still suspected the others and a potential tenth person, and seeing that, he chose to slink away and back outside. The snowstorm weakened, allowing for visibility, but it was still unbearably cold, even with thick winter clothing.

The sun was bright enough to see, and with gloves and tall boots, he trudged through the piercing winds and high snow continuously until he squinted and saw something in the distance. It was a building with quite the open architecture, but stepping inside, he saw what it truly was.

It was a burial site, and through an unlocked door, he made his way inside. Lying before his feet was a silver lantern, one that was waiting for his arrival.

The flame burned bright, illuminating three wooden caskets. Mold ate away at the outer layers, but when he swung his lantern close, he could read it.

“Ruka… Sen… and Beatrice?”

The names were carved and written in Cobellian. Dante opened Sen’s casket to find nothing but bones. It belonged to a young boy in his early teens. The boy’s ribs and chest were cracked, all while the rest of the bones were in fine condition. Additionally, a red I had been carved into the top of Sen’s casket.

The second casket belonged to Ruka, but he moved past it and went to Beatrice’s. Inside, he found it was empty. There was nothing but a single flower — a Higanbana. It rested on the bed that the corpse was meant to lie on for all eternity.

Finally, he opened Ruka’s, and inside was another corpse, one that was as young as Sen. In the center of the pile of bones was a box, one that was empty, with nothing but a note written, again, in Cobellian.

“Rest in peace, her dear prince. I leave the only other key in your possession so that no one may disturb your slumber.”

The only other key? The box — it was the home of the second master key.

Dante grabbed the box and the letter, both of which were stamped by that familiar bear paw, then made his way back towards the castle. He intruded on the others eating breakfast which was leftover soup, then slammed down his findings.

“There’s a second key! One in the nearby burial site!” Dante cried, and he shoved the letter into Misha’s face.

“Interesting,” Misha said, reading it over. “A key for the prince. Judging by the emptiness of the box, the other key must’ve been stolen, am I correct?”

“This is proof that the key container could be opened and the master key stolen!”

“One problem,” Misha said. “Are you honestly suggesting that Howell, first, went to this burial site, stole the key, entered the castle, stole the second master key, then hid one of the master keys before dying outside the tunnel entrance with said key on his body?”

“I… uh…”

Dante stumbled and fumbled. The only person willing to stand up for him was Erika who, pipe in hand, blew out another theory.

“Who says Howell took the key from the burial site?” and she looked at the group, asking, “Those of you who came here with Baron, you didn’t sneak off and steal any keys, did you?”

The group all fell silent, then quickly shook their heads no when Misha glared. Erika turned back to Dante, asking, “Did you see anyone in the burial site? Any clues that might lead to a potential tenth person hiding inside?”

“This lantern,” Dante said, lifting his lantern. “It was placed on the floor in front of the entrance. It was like it was waiting for me — waiting for me to pick it up.”

“Then the culprit must’ve gone in, took a lantern, stole the key, then left the lantern by the entrance.”

“Also! There were three caskets. One for Ruka, Sen, and another for a woman named Beatrice. The first two had bones inside, but the third had nothing but a higanbana flower.”

“A flower?” Erika asked. “How fresh would you call it?”

“Fresh?” Dante asked, and he put a hand to his chin, answering, “If I had to guess, it was as fresh as the one in your hair — maybe a bit older.” and he tapped on the slightly wilted flower which was still in Erika’s hair. Whether it was a piece of good fortune or a bad omen, he couldn’t quite tell.

“It was a real flower, right? Real flowers, over time, will wilt. That’s why we keep them in vases.”

“Wilt?” he asked, and he shook his head. “They looked a little older than yours, and seeing as I gave it to you yesterday evening, that means they must’ve been put there recently. At most, I’d estimate they were put there two days ago.”

“Two days ago? That’s impossible. We all arrived here at midday yesterday, unless…” Erika mumbled, and she turned to the crowd who ate their breakfast soup.

Seven of nine remained, and it wasn’t hard to believe that, just maybe, one of them had arrived earlier and proceeded to pretend to land with the rest. If they did, it could explain so many questions.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

But before she could speak up and ask, Misha let out a lengthy yawn. The sight of it was so jarring that the group couldn’t help but stare at her in silence.

“Sleep well last night?” Calina asked, and Misha rubbed her eyes.

“Well, it’s not easy being the group’s leader and detective,” she said. “I may or may not have stayed up last night, and I may or may not have spent the night awake, listening for any incriminating noises.”

“You should sleep. Go to bed, right now,” Calina said. “Sleep is good. More better than food.”

“She’s right,” Wright said. “You really ought to go to bed.”

“Wait!” Misha cried. “I heard something! I remember it, I heard footsteps and whispering. I heard someone whispering their evil deeds last night, how they butchered both Howell and Baron, all while they dragged a weapon behind them!”

“Are you serious!?” Wright said. He was pale as a ghost, grasping onto Aki who sat next to him out of fear.

Misha, however, smirked.

“Just kidding. I heard nothing. Everyone slept safe and sound.”

“That’s not funny. I don’t want to end up like Baron,” Wright grumbled, all while Calina stood up and propped a blanket over Misha’s shoulders.

“She is acting strange. Either she needs sleep, or she is possessed by demon,” Calina said, half jokingly. “Come on, now. Sleep time. Go to bed, okay? We will not die. It is promise.”

“Alright, I get it,” Misha said, mid yawn. “Leave the bolt cutter in my room, okay? I’m not taking any risks.”

“I will bring blanket, hot chocolate and sing bedtime lullaby. Come on, now. Don’t be big baby.”

Calina coaxed Misha to bed and the two left to go upstairs. Meanwhile, the five remained. They all looked strained, and seeing as Baron died last night, they had the entire world to be afraid of. Erika, however, took the mantle by leaning into the table, spoon in hand.

“Something tells me those two are hiding something,” Erika said. “They’re too friendly. Too close. They’re impossible to trust, and the more they try to help us, the more suspicious I get of them.”

“Not suspicious enough to skip breakfast,” Iffrah muttered under her breath.

Erika had no argument. She took the half eaten bowl of hers and pushed it aside. She wore a frown and turned it towards Dante.

“What about you? What are your thoughts about Calina?”

“Cute, clumsy in speech and one Hell of a chef,” he said, wagging his spoon for emphasis. “I’d hate for her to be our culprit. I’ve been enjoying these meals. I’ve had to test each one of my bowls before I eat, though, which really dampens my mood.”

“You tested them? How? With a silver spoon or some precious metal?” Erika asked, and he pointed his spoon towards her.

“Don’t get mad, but I swapped my bowl with yours,” he confessed. “In case she was the culprit, I’m sure she wanted someone as meddlesome as me gone. Poison would be one Hell of a way to do it.”

“Thanks. I really appreciate it,” Erika said, her sarcasm palpable.

“Don’t hate me because you didn’t think of it first. After all, I’d be fine with you doing it to me.”

“I’d be happier if you didn’t since I have nothing to go off of. Nothing you’ve demonstrated has proven to anyone that you are innocent of any of these crimes.”

“But the locked room, I —”

“Locked from the inside,” Erika interrupted. “You could have left, killed Baron, then returned and locked your own door, pretending like nothing happened.”

“Come on. His room was locked and he answered to no one — no one but Misha.”

“You could have tricked him into opening the door,” Erika answered. “So long as he was inside of that room, the possibility lives.”

“What about the chain?” Dante asked. “How could I have gotten in if there was a chain set?”

“Maybe it wasn’t,” the two heard.

The two bickerers turned towards Iffrah. Iffrah, with her hands folded together, suggested something insane.

“Maybe the chain was never set,” she stated. “Who knows? After all, it was Misha and Calina who found Baron dead. I never saw the chain be set.”

Aki, hearing that, stood up and slammed down on the table, her soup nearly spilling off.

“Absurd!” she cried. “What? Are you saying that Baron, the most cautious, wouldn’t set a chain? That’s ridiculous!”

“He’s an old man. Maybe he forgot to, or maybe he trusted the door lock enough,” Iffrah answered. “Maybe, or maybe, he left the chain unset so that if something went wrong, Misha could easily unlock the door and help him. He’s an old man who probably has a few health issues he hasn’t yet mentioned. What if he had a heart attack from the stress here?”

“It’s a fair assumption,” Wright said. “If he had a heart attack, he’d want us to get inside and help him immediately. The door lock is enough. A chain would do nothing but force us to get the bolt cutter, expediting the process. By the time we’d reach him, he’d be nothing but bones.”

“Just how would we help him if he had a heart attack in the first place?” Erika asked, and Iffrah shrugged.

“Maybe some medication. I’m sure Calina has something.”

Erika clasped her hands together to ask, “Just why are we suspecting this? Why would we assume that the chain was never set in the first place? How do you explain the chain we saw, which was clearly cut?”

The room fell quiet. Everyone turned to Dante who shook his head.

“It just doesn’t make sense,” he said. “To try and pin this on some supernatural entity — it’s insane.”

“Why? Tell me why they’d do this?”

“To misdirect.”

Suddenly, the silence was broken. A shiver ran down every single soul’s spines. They heard something odd — something they could never expect.

It was the sound of an old bell. The bell reverberated through the entire castle and they could feel the ground beneath them shudder. The force was so strong that the table shifted and one of the legs came loose. The table buckled and soup spilled all over the floor.

“Gah! I haven't finished that!” Erika cried. “Stupid, goddamned castle!”

“Oh Goddess,” Aki mumbled. “Just what was that? Some kind of earthquake?”

“It was, clearly, a belltower’s clock. A powerful one, too,” Wright said. “Though, I don’t remember seeing a bell or a tower. Just where did it come from?”

“Just where did it come from?” Dante whispered, and the group watched as something fell from the sky.

A storm fell, and like feathers, a whirlwind of those familiar flowers fell from above. The group watched, dumbfounded, as they were covered in the petals of that toxic flower from the other shore.

Then, a single letter fluttered down.

Dante snatched it, then read it for them all.

“It’s a pleasure to have you all as my guests.

I am Princess Higanbana. I’m sure you’re acquainted with my servant, Virgil, yes?

Well, he’s done a fine job bringing you all here. Props to Virgil. I expect a round of applause, sooner or later. (He gets awfully cranky when his work goes unacknowledged, so please, be kind to him. He’s a sensitive soul.)

Oh! But I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m sure you’ve seen it by now. Yes, I had to do our friend in. Shame. I was looking forward to meeting such a distinguished gentleman, but to have him cooped up in his room, I just could not allow that.

So, I’ve dragged him out.

You’ll see him later.

Come find me where the snow meets the flowered moon.

Love, BXXX.”

Dante took a long look at that letter, then sucked in a breath before exploding.

“This is BULLSHIT. For starters, it’s written in Cobellian, not south Heshan! Second, Baron is still in his room. He hasn’t been dragged NOWHERE.”

“Dante, please, calm down,” Wright said, but Dante shook his head fervently.

“No! I won’t allow this crap to stand! First, it’s the impossible closed room murder. Next, it’s a letter coming from nowhere! Falling down from the sky and into our palms! I won’t have it! This is all misdirection! It’s all a trick into making us believe in some supernatural princess who’s going around, butchering as she pleases!”

Dante took the letter, then pressed it against everyone’s faces. The other, however, didn’t feel the same way.

“The handwriting,” Erika mumbled. “It’s different from Virgil’s letters. It can’t have been the same person — there’s no way.”

“The letter,” Iffrah whispered. “It fell from the sky along with a storm of Higanbana petals, but how?”

“There’s just too many unexplained questions,” Wright said. “I’m sorry, but I have to admit, this is all a bit overwhelming.”

“Then let’s go to the place where the ‘snow meets the flowered moon’,” Dante said, his tone cold and unforgiving.

He knew the one place where the snow met the flowered moon, and that was all the way back at the ballroom. He directed everyone’s attention to the paintings that filled said room.

“Snow, moon and flowers,” Aki said. “Setsugekka. It fits for sure.”

The group gathered in the room, and surrounded by those rectangular paintings intersected by windows, they found themselves in a surreal world. Looking up, Dante noticed something off. There was a bit of three dimensional depth to the paintings, almost as if the trees were popping out of their ink canvasses and forming a canopy above.

His eyes followed up the branches, but before he could look up to the center of the ceiling, he saw a blur of an object fall.

The object fell, crashing down before them. They heard the awful crunching of some strange material, and on closer inspection, they realized just what it was.

“Baron?” Dante muttered and Erika bit down on the stem of her pipe.

“This body, it’s the same one as before. It’s Howell’s body.”

Like some creature from Frankenstein’s castle, a corpse laid before their feet. Half of the body was smashed from the fall, spilling frozen chunks of flesh and blood left and right. In the center of it all was the head of the victim from before — Baron’s head. His severed head had been sown onto the other corpse in some infernal patchwork.

Sewn into his skin were the stems of those Higanbana who looked happy to sap the nutrients of the two combined corpses. They were brighter than any flower they had ever seen.

A thousand spider legged lilies crawled over Baron’s head, and stuffed into his mouth — whose teeth seemed to have been plucked out — was another tape recorder.

Dante reached into his mouth to press the play button, and from the tape escaped an unfamiliar voice.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I’m sure you had a lovely, lovely rest. Please, allow me to welcome you all in.”

“Whose voice is that?” Erika mumbled.

“It’s a woman — but it doesn’t sound like anyone here,” Wright said, all while the recording continued.

“Well, how was it? My trick? Lovely, wasn’t it? I’d love to have spent more time on ‘buildup’, but oh well. I’m afraid, sometimes, it’s best to come out, guns blazing — leaving our dear guests with no room to prepare. Isn’t that right, Virgil?”

“Virgil?” Aki whispered, and a new voice surfaced.

“Why come to me for answers? You know I can’t help but agree with everything you say, Princess,” Virgil said with a hint of sarcasm.

“Iyah ha ha! Of course! Of course! Well, my dear guests, don’t feel too bad for yourselves. Now, I don’t want you wallowing in tears, begging to the Gods for even an ounce of hope, now, would I? Would I?”

The princess was harsh tongued and painfully cocky. Dante could hear the smirk behind the recording.

“What the Hell?” Dante whispered to himself, and as if they heard him, the princess let out a hearty chuckle.

“Ke he he he… I suppose I should give you a chance at surviving the night, though don’t expect survival to be as simple as locking yourselves in a room, now. Lock yourself in your room, lock yourself in the bathroom — Hell, you can lock yourself in the castle’s vault! But! No matter what you do…

I will get you, and I will drag you out.

I propose a game for you all, and if you are successful, I will undo the spells I’ve bound upon you all and allow you safe passage through my territory.”

In an instant, as the princess paused and the recording fell silent, a tear rang out through the castle. Dante turned to see the painting on the wall go unhinged. The tall, rectangular painting fell like a door being kicked in, and behind it was the source of the earlier ringing.

A giant brass clock was embedded into the wall, and before it was a pair of iron doors. In the center of it all was a combination lock.

“You have twenty four hours,” the Princess said. “If you ever wish to see the light of day again, you will undo my lock and open the doors to the castle vault. Waiting inside is the gold you so desperately desire.”

“The Princess of the Higanbanas beseech thee,” Virgil said, and the Princess let out a soft breath.

“Who am I?”

With that, the recording stopped and the button released, returning to a neutral position. There was no more. No hints, no clues, no nothing. The head, however, caught aflame and like magic, Baron’s flower-pierced face burned away, leaving not a shred of flesh behind. No bone, no cartilage, no material at all. Nothing but ashes. The ashes scattered towards the lock before them.

Wright and Aki approached the four-piece combination lock together to find something odd.

“It’s letters, not numbers,” Wright said. “Four sets of twenty six. Just how many possible combinations is that?”

“However many it is, it doesn’t matter. There’s nothing stopping us from brute forcing it, is there?” Aki asked.

Wright, however, shook his head, saying, “Back home, I worked with a lockpicker… I mean, a locksmith once. He used a simple set and shake method.”

“Set and shake?” Aki asked, and Wright chuckled softly to himself.

“Well, he’d pull on the shackle of the lock and spin the combinations, testing for the stiffest. Then, he’d pull and twist the set with the most resistance, stopping when he hears a click. Repeat ad nauseam with the increasingly less resisting sets, then finally brute force the last one. Worked like a charm. Said he had a 90 percent success rate.”

“Well great,” Aki said. “Come on. Show us your magic.”

“There’s one problem.” and Wright tapped on the side of the giant door.

There was, indubitably, no shackle. No shackle meant no way of administering resistance like a painkiller towards a patient. That left them with only two tedious methods.

Either A, they brute forced it.

Or B, they somehow discovered the name of their princess.

“Discover the name of the princess?” Erika whispered to herself, all while she stared at the iron gates with a dull look. “To discover their name, there has to be clues hidden around the castle, right? How else?”

“There are clues, but everything I found was outside,” Dante added. “As far as I know, nothing inside here is worth our time, unless…”

Dante looked to Iffrah, then the rest.

“Tell me,” Iffrah asked, “why would Misha go ahead and coop herself up before these events began? Why would she go with Calina — together? She’s a grown woman. She can tuck herself to bed.”

“There’s only one answer,” Dante said, and he smacked his closed fist against the iron door, shouting, “They’re in this together! The princess and her partner in crime! Princess Higanbana and her Virgil!”

“What the Hell was all that noise!?” they all heard. Behind them, through the doors, was none other than the duo.

Misha stood with a bit of a hunch and an irritated look on her face, all while Calina guided her along, acting as a second in command. Misha let out a groan before standing upright, then proceeded to spout out her thoughts.

“Well, it looks like we’ve got a mess here,” she said, looking the group up and down before peering over to the headless corpse. “What the Hell is this, and what’s that? A tape recorder?”

She picked up the ruined recorder whose tape had been scorched away. Then, she inspected the body that was covered in those frozen clothes. They had been partially thawed and she showed no signs of disgust as she dug through the slightly wet clothing. The clothes, however, were nearly impossible to peel off the corpse. She instead looked up to the stump that made up the throat section.

“Well, there goes my earlier suspicions. This body is, indeed, a corpse. Not some fake or whatever,” Misha announced. “Well, what’s going on? What’s this big door?”

“Our princess wants us to discover her name,” Wright answered. “To her, it seems like all of this is just some game — and from the way she was laughing on the tape, it seems she’s enjoying things quite a bit.”

“A combination lock? Big mistake,” Misha mumbled under her breath, and as if she were drunk, she hobbled over and began flipping away at the locks’ endless set of combinations.

“Anna, Anne, Anya…” Misha said, muttering to herself as she went through the motions. After a solid minute, she turned to the dumbfounded group with a scowl.

“Hey, all of you. Don’t you want to solve this puzzle? It’s only four letters. No need to lament.” and Misha pulled out a notepad and began scrawling away. Then, she pointed a fountain pen towards Aki and Wright, shouting, “You two! Come on! Get to work!”

The two looked to one another, only to be interrupted by Calina who acted as a sort of anchor preventing the group from drifting apart.

“I am sorry. When the bell rang, it made her cranky. She does not like to have beauty sleep interrupted.”

“Then for her sake, we ought to crack this safe ASAP,” Wright said, and he turned to Aki with a smile and an extended hand, asking, “Shall we?”

“We shall, I guess,” Aki replied, taking that hand. He was quite the gentleman, leading her towards the gate where Misha retired, allowing the two to continue her work of decoding.

“The rest of you,” Misha barked, “get to searching. I spent last night digging this place up from top to bottom, though, seeing as I had done it in the middle of the night with nothing but a lantern, I suppose it’s possible I missed some clues.”

“You want us to do your job for you?” Dante asked, and she wagged a finger.

“I have done my job. You are all alive, minus one. Those are better results than I expected. I, however, am unable to babysit you all. I’m afraid we’ll have to work together if we want to survive.”

“Alright, I get it,” Dante said, and he waved the rest over, saying, “Come on. This castle won’t search itself.”

Everyone left, meanwhile the two stayed behind to crack away at the safe, chipping at the steel body. Turn by turn, they worked the combination locks, all while they recorded their failed attempts, over and over. Eventually, as time passed by, they came to a standstill. Wright sat back and tapped away at the notepad with a pencil in hand.

“Tell me,” Wright said. “Just what brought you here?”

“I said it before. I’m a student, and I’m studying for a good job,” she answered. “Seeing as this Virgil guy wants to pay me to solve his little game, I couldn’t refuse. After all, this coin’s worth a bit. I can’t imagine just how much the total payment is gonna be.”

“Just what makes you think you’ll be paid?”

Silence. Aki paused. It was all Wright needed to hear. For the first time, he looked genuinely serious, as if his frightful and meek demeanor had vanished.

“I know that’s not why you’re here,” Wright said.

“And how do you know?”

“It’s because I’m here for something else. Something other than money.”

Wright pulled out a revolver, and before Aki could scream, he pulled the trigger.

Dust flew, the snow fell and the winter winds continued to blow. Meanwhile, the group worked away, inspecting every corner of every room. Calina poked at every bookshelf, Iffrah peeked behind every nook and cranny while Dante and Erika stood together, eyeing every odd tile in search of a secret passage.

Misha sat in a seat, dozing off while somehow maintaining the alertness of a detective. While Dante flipped through the pages of a book written in old south Heshan, he turned when Erika blew a cloud of smoke towards him.

“Fancy book. Shame you can’t read it,” Erika said, and Dante shrugged.

“Who knows? Seeing as the tapes were recorded in Cobellian, I’m sure there’s gotta be something we could read,” he said, and he flipped through a couple more books.

Of course, there was nothing to be had. The best they could do was compact a few and bring them over to Aki for a full translation. They put Calina to work, sending her back and forth, deliberately keeping her away from Misha under deep suspicions.

Eventually, the group was dragged back towards the ballroom where the two continuously plugged in potential names. Dante split apart from them, and from the second floor he inspected the layout of the upper areas of the ballroom. From where he stood and from how the balcony protruded, he couldn’t get an angle on the first floor where the door and lock was — both of which were directly underneath him.

He expected to find some kind of contraption set to drop the corpse from above and initiate the whole sequence they saw, earlier, but to his shock, there was nothing.

No spare ropes, no loose threads — no nothing. Nothing that could point to a human method of dropping a corpse before them. He stood by an upper balcony and leaned against the railing, peering up towards the support beams of the roof.

“No ropes, no nothing,” he muttered. “Just how did they get the body to drop like that?”

Approaching him from behind was Misha who did the same, peering up, saying, “If it were up to me, I’d tie the corpse to a rope from the support beams, setting it to a timer that reliably dropped it sometime after 9:00 A.M. Looking at this, however, it seems like no mechanism was used.”

He was surprised to see her, but instead of pointing it out, he grew a soft smile.

“Maybe it was a supernatural being who could, with the snap of their fingers, teleport the body above us,” Dante said, half jokingly. “It’d make sense, seeing as Baron was killed in a locked room. To a human that should be impossible, but for a demon it should be no problem.”

Dante leaned back, and turning to Misha, he said, “That is if the facts presented were accurate.”

Misha leaned against the railing, then let out a chuckle, asking, “You do realize you’re talking to a detective, right?”

“Then you should have no problems answering my question. Was the door really chained?”

“It had been chained, and we cut it with bolt cutters. That is a fact.”

She was way too confident in her speech to lie — enough so that Dante was shocked by her immediate answer. Misha, however, didn’t let up. She fired back in retaliation.

“Tell me, just who are you? I know for a fact that none of us came here to get money from this Virgil who supposedly exists. We all came here for more personal reasons. Why did you come here of all places?”

“Why did you come?” Dante replied, and while it was bad manners to answer a question with a question, she obliged.

She took her badge, then snapped it in half with her hands.

“Four years ago, I had quit my job as a detective. One day, while I was at home, drinking all alone, I heard a knock on my apartment. When I went to check, I found a letter.”

“Virgil’s letter?” he asked, and she answered by flashing a coin — two coins.

“He invited me to this game, and at the time, I thought it was nonsense so I ignored it. Four years later, I got a second letter.”

She revealed two letters and two tickets. One was punched. The other was untouched.

“He gloated, telling me just how much fun he and his princess had, flaying their victim’s skin from their flesh and drinking the marrow from their bones. He taunted me, telling me it was my fault for not being there — for not being his detective, the one who’d solve the case, the one who’d protect the victim’s from harm.”

“This isn’t the first game?” Dante muttered.

“And it won’t be the last, unless we’re able to bring Virgil to justice.”

She reached into her coat and brought out a shining, silver revolver.

“I will bring him to justice. On my name and honor as a detective, I vow to kill the myth of the Higanbana Princess.”

She took the revolver, then pointed it at Dante’s head.

“Tell me. Whose side are you on? Do you stand for justice, or will you hide behind illusions and lies?”

When she pulled the hammer back, he didn’t shudder or hesitate. He stood firm with a solid answer.

“I’ll stop him. I’ll stop Virgil.”

And in response, two gunshots rang out.