A little background information. I loved the 'Who Killed Markiplier?' series. It was fantastic. The passion that was put into this project definitely showed through, with the production quality, the incredible writing, and the unique twists and turns along the way. I would be honored to be half the writer that Mark is. Seriously, Teamiplier deserves all the respect in the world. The roundest of applauses to them.
This is my take on the events that took place before and during the main series. The perspectives and snippets we don't get to see. There is obviously so much more to the people, these characters, that we don't get to see. I loved the thought of exploring them a bit further. If there are any other moments you feel as if I missed out on touching upon, you can always let me know. I may just go back as I think of new scenes and write them in. This was written all within about two days. I'm so glad I finally got it done for you to enjoy. All feedback is appreciated!
A/N- The butler provided an interesting choice, mostly because he was one of the most recent people to enter the house. Butlers are privy to secrets others are not, and they have practically a free reign of the house. Plus, Tyler did a great job acting him, in my opinion.
The job description had included the bit about it being for a mansion, but Benjamin wasn't quite prepared for the enormous size of the residence as he walked up to the place. His stride faltered, eyes skating across the mottled, gray stone walls and pathway leading up to the front steps in mild awe. You didn't see too many places like this. All in all, it came off as a lot more imposing and striking than he'd imagined.
An elegantly detailed wrought-iron gate was left open, welcoming him as he stepped past the threshold of the manor grounds. The interior was sure to be comfortably heated, a far-cry from the below freezing temperatures of the outside air. His breaths fogged before him, reminding him that stopping to stare would only make him late—and cold. His shoes clicked faintly against the stone with each step, carrying him closer to the front entrance of the manor.
He hadn't felt nervous until he stepped up the stone steps of the manor, the two decorative suits of armor standing at attention to either side of the wide, wooden door inlayed with glass. Everything looked so…polished. Refined. Much more sophisticated than Benjamin felt he came off as. His fingers twitched, but he forced them to relax. It would do no good to fall back on bad habits now.
He shook his head, chastising himself. It won't do well to doubt yourself now. Come on, then. Knock, you fool.
A few sharp raps on the door with the knocker echoed into the foyer beyond, and he stepped back a pace, waiting as patiently as he could, considering the frigid air he was forced to stand in.
The answer came quickly, almost too quickly, as an older gentleman clad in traditional tailcoat and gloves opened the door. He was short, though most people were compared to Benjamin's own height, with a squirrel-ish face and bushy gray eyebrows. The older man gave him a squinted look, inspecting him closely, and opened the door wider.
"Hmm? My, quite a cold night for a visitor. What can we do for you?"
"Good evening." Benjamin greeted warmly, nodding his head respectfully. "My name is Benjamin, I'm here for the open position that-"
"Ah, yes, yes, come in, come in, my boy." He interrupted, gesturing into the manor and stepped backwards. "Watch the frame on your way in."
Frowning slightly in surprise, both by the breach in protocol of interrupting a guest, but also the strangely impatient demeanor of the butler as he gestured him to enter the manor, Benjamin did as told, ducking just a hair to step into the foyer.
Much like the exterior aesthetic of the household, the foyer was stunning in it's simple elegance. Floor tiles and walls a sterling white, with large mirrors facing each side of the room, and a lively decorative table in the middle displaying a fresh flower bouquet. While Benjamin examined the room around him, the butler closed off the entrance—neglecting to lock it, mind you—and gave a short bow by way of greeting.
"My apologies. I am Gerald, butler to the Iplier household. Allow me to take your coat."
"How do you do?" He said, shrugging off his coat and watching as Gerald hung it in a coat closet further in before returning to his side.
"Now, you are here for the position of butler, are you not?" The older man continued, and Benjamin nodded confidently. "Well, then, allow me to get you acquainted with the manor itself."
The younger man was surprised he hadn't been asked to show his credentials or resume to prove experience, but he supposed that would come later. His impression of the household so far led him to believe things wouldn't be as strict as his training had taught. And with that, Gerald guided him through the many hallways of the mansion.
It was bigger than he'd expected, both inside and out. There were two floors to the house, not counting the wine cellar in the basement, with hallways that criss-crossed the entirety, while other lead only to staff quarters or areas the house Master did not concern himself with.
All the while spouting information about the house itself as they walked, Gerald showed him the kitchen and he met the Chef who was busy making that day's lunch. The black-haired man had little to say to the butler or candidate, and looked rather anxious for them to be out of his kitchen. They hurried on quickly, lest they risk the chef's anger and be at the wrong end of one of those knives he was using.
Benjamin was fairly unimpressed with the courtyard located in the back of the manor. A pool, small in comparison to others he'd seen, a life-size chess board which looked as if it hadn't seen use in years, and a rather unkempt golf course below the main walkway. At least his duties would keep him mostly inside the manor, should he receive the position.
Gerald took him around for the better part of an hour, finally leading them back towards the kitchen to retrieve the Master's lunch for the day. The older man took the dumbwaiter and rolled it to the tiny elevator in one of the back hallways, used mainly for staff. Benjamin joined him, waiting patiently as they went up to the second floor.
The young man realized something, then. Gerald hadn't mentioned much of anything about the Master himself up to this point. Strange, he thought.
"The Master, what is he like?" Benjamin asked. He saw the sharp glance his way from the older butler, who shook his head in a defeated manner.
"A shell of what he once was. The Lady of the house ran off with another lover, leaving him alone here." There was a pause, as if he was collecting his thoughts. "The Master was once a good man, but now…"
The elevator dinged, cutting of whatever it was the man was about to say and Gerald opened the linked door to the hallway outside. Benjamin didn't ask any further about the issue, wondering just what had happened to create the event the older butler had just described. Shaking his head to rid of his wandering thoughts, he followed Gerald down the hallway to the large door at the end.
He knocked gently several times, and a faint 'Enter' could be heard from the other side. Benjamin saw Gerald give him a preparatory glance before opening the door, wheeling in the covered platter with the day's meal.
The house Master was nothing at all what he'd expected him to look like, though that seemed to be a recurring theme in this manor. Benjamin had conjured up images of an overweight, old, bitter husk of a man, but in place of that stood a middle-aged, average man of no more than his mid-thirties. He was rather handsome, but the faraway gaze in his eyes evidenced the previous drama that had racked the house, as Gerald had described. Seeing that he was not needed, Benjamin placed himself by the door, standing courteous at attention should anyone required anything of him.
"Good afternoon, Sir. The chef has prepared your lunch for you." Gerald said, placing the platter before the man seated at the table. He barely gave a glance down at the plate, eyes instead swiveling back up to stare out the window blankly.
The older butler apparently did not expect a response, and simply finished putting the components of the meal in front of the Master. Straightening up, he wheeled the dumbwaiter a few paces away. "Will there be anything else for you, Sir?"
There was a moments pause. "Please inform the chef I will not require dinner this evening."
"Of course, Sir."
And with no other parting comments from either man, Gerald made his way back towards the door where Benjamin stood. The young man couldn't be sure if the Master had even noticed him there. He fell into step beside Gerald as they exited the room, returning the dumbwaiter to the kitchen.
"Things haven't quite been the same since the Lady Celine left." The man said unprompted, sensing the burning questions Benjamin must have swimming around in his head. "She was much loved by the staff here. Very kind."
"If I may ask, what happened?" The question came very reluctantly, but Gerald didn't tell him to hold his tongue.
"We can only guess at the real reason, but some say the house itself is what caused all of this."
"The house?" Benjamin frowned, not following the butler's reasoning. He didn't quite see how the manor had any connection to an affair. "Was there a property dispute?"
"No, nothing like that. It's a bit hard to explain, but those of us that still remain all suspect there's something about this manor that's…off."
"…Off?"
Gerald sighed, seeing that the young man still wasn't understanding. "I'm sure you'll realize sooner rather than later. Now, let's go over your employment details and the like."
The young man perked up at hearing a confirmation of him receiving the position. It all felt a bit anticlimactic, as he'd been expecting a test of his knowledge or training, but he'd practically walked in and been handed a job.
Nonetheless, he wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, and it was better than going hungry, so Benjamin followed Gerald without complaint.
It took a matter of a few more months before Gerald put in his own resignation, handing off the Head Butler position to Benjamin. That had been an unexpected turn of events, but in the months since being hired into the staff, the young man could see he was tired, past his prime. The old man had appeared very relieved as he left the manor for the final time, his lone briefcase in hand. He'd served loyally for years, and now he was afforded his due.
It wasn't until much after the fact that he began to wonder if old age hadn't been the only factor in Gerald's departure. The staff all appeared to envy Gerald in the days following. Of course, a life free of work was a fate everyone sought, Benjamin thought, but the envy seemed a bit extreme.
Gerald had trained him in the specific ways of the manor for long enough that Benjamin knew most of the ins and outs of the place; the family archives located in the library, the hatch installed in the wine cellar where they kept the best selection, and even the gates that lead onto the property from the very back of the garden. Being as astute as he was, the young man was able to memorize the layout of the house rather quickly, and used his spare time to wander the halls in an effort to familiarize himself with the individual rooms that lay in the less-travelled halls of the residence. He felt confident in his ability to perform.
Of course, the manor was one thing. The Master was another.
Since the first time he'd put himself before the man of the house, the man had barely acknowledged the butler was even there. He spoke clipped sentences, a few words at a time, and his gaze was always somewhere else. Sometimes he wondered if he even knew the younger man wasn't actually Gerald. Perhaps his sight was failing him, and no distinction could be made? That was certainly not something he'd bring up to the Master. That was stepping way out of line for a staff employee.
Benjamin chalked up most of the strange behaviors as the lingering aftermath of the Lady's departure. After all, he was taught not to think ill of his employers. He was a loyal man by nature, and it would do no good to suspect that something was at all wrong with the man.
He stayed mostly in his bedroom, calling only for meals and his letters. He received very few messages from the mail service, much less than what Benjamin would expect of a house Master. Benjamin barely had duties besides attending to the delivery of meals. It gave him plenty of time to himself, and was mostly stress-free.
So it came as a surprise to him when one day while delivering that morning's breakfast, the Master actually looked up at him, straight in the eyes, and frowned.
"And who might you be?" He inquired in a confused, but not unkind, tone. Benjamin stepped back a pace and bowed respectfully.
"My apologies, Sir. I am Benjamin, the Head Butler."
"Head Butler? And what of Gerald?"
The Master looked around the room, as if the squirrel-ish man was simply hiding fro his sight. Hiding the frown that wanted to spring to his face, Benjamin cleared his throat rather awkwardly.
"Sir, Gerald took his leave several months ago."
The Master's eyes narrowed, his head tilted to the side as he thought about the man's words. The butler was shocked to realize that in all this time he hadn't known his head butler had even left. The man must be more out of tune with reality than he realized, to not notice something as obvious as that.
"I see." The Master finally said slowly, eyes returning to inspect the younger man stood before him. Benjamin couldn't quite tell what impression he gave off, but he hoped it'd be a positive one. He'd hate to already get on the Master's bad side. After another moment, the man nodded and resumed his reverie out the window.
"Very well, then. Carry on."
Never missing a cue, Benjamin bowed again and wheeled the dumbwaiter back towards the bedroom door to take his leave. However, he couldn't shake the strange feeling that something was wrong here.
The words that Gerald had told him the day he was hired began to make sense.
"…those of us that still remain all suspect there's something about this manor that's…off."
Benjamin hadn't grown aware of the presence until a great deal of time had passed, but he could finally put a name to it. The house itself seemed to loom. You could logically explain only so many strange noises, so many creepy feelings and headaches that spring out from nowhere.
Once, though he couldn't be sure he hadn't had a strange fit of sleepwalking in the middle of the day, he could have sworn he opened one of the doors to the second floor balcony and came out the other end on the first floor. He'd tried explaining it away, but eventually gave up and simply turned away. It hadn't happened since, but no amount of explanations would solve it.
The manor was old, of course, but he'd never been an overly superstitious fellow. The thought of ghosts didn't scare him, as they had yet to prove real.
But even a hardened will like his could be questioned, prodded, poked enough that he had to stop and consider something he couldn't explain was happening here. He'd become ill several times while employed at the manor, despite being as healthy as a bull the night previous.
The staff were reluctant to talk much about it at great length, but they all agreed on one thing: something wasn't right.
Even as he lay awake in his bed in the staff quarters, Benjamin felt like something was pressing down upon him, squeezing him, huddling close enough to make him feel random fits of claustrophobia. Of course, every time he stepped outside, most of the sensations seemed to dissipate, and he gave it no more concern than a bit of stir craziness from being inside too long.
What's more, the Master had begun to change, slowly, during the time he'd been employed there. He still remained in his bedroom most of the time, but now, it wasn't unusual to find him wandering the halls at odd hours, with seemingly no destination in mind and no purpose for being there. Hands clasped behind his robed back, the Master would scan the walls, the floors, the ceilings in a strangely measured way. As if he were searching for something the rest of them couldn't see.
Benjamin would never dream of questioning him as to what he was doing. This was his mansion, after all. It wasn't a butler's place to say what a man could do within his own home, but it was something he'd never seen before. A religious man might even called him possessed. It unnerved him, quite truthfully.
Something in the Master's eyes was…unnatural. It was the gaze of a broken man, one who desired no healing. Someone who'd long resigned themselves to their miserable fate.
Nonetheless, it was the butler's duty to uphold the manor and it's residents, no matter the affliction or state of mind, and the Master was his first priority. No matter how many times he may be brushed off or dismissed uncaringly, Benjamin would ensure that his Master's needs were taken care of.
Right after breakfast was served, the Master had desired a walk into town, rather out of the blue. Still, Benjamin felt that it was a sign of things beginning to turn for the better. The sun would do him a bit of good, the younger man thought to himself, seeing the pale, almost bluish, complexion and gaunt features.
Despite being a warm morning in spring, the man was bundled up rather cozy. A scarf was wrapped around his neck, almost up to his chin. Perhaps the bedroom let in a draft at night? Benjamin reminded himself to check with the maids and see if there were any noticeable cracks in the windows.
"I will return after lunch. Please inform Chef I will not require a midday meal." He said in parting, and the butler looked up to bid him a farewell. He paused, spotting what appeared to be a red rash on the side of the Master's neck. The scarf covered most of it, but a small bit protruded above the fabric. He went to remark on it, but the man was gone before Benjamin could recover himself.
Thinking no more on the man's short departure, knowing that the Master would ask for assistance should he need it, Benjamin went to clean up the remains of the breakfast. The empty plate and used silverware were placed carefully back onto the dumbwaiter, and the stray crumbs left on the table were wiped and cleaned away.
All the while, the butler couldn't help but let his eyes wander. He'd noticed there was a distinct clutter, whereas he knew the Master was normally very neat and orderly. It was strange to see small, crumpled balls of paper strewn about the waste bin, or the discarded robe flung carelessly across the bed's comforter. A loosened tie had been draped on the vanity's edge post, hanging limply down the side of the mirror.
The closet was ajar a few inches and, ever the compulsive servant he was, Benjamin finished cleaning the remains of the meal before going to close it.
Something inside caught his eye, and he paused. Then, deciding there was no harm in looking in the man's closet, he slid the door open a few more inches, illuminating more of the inside.
Benjamin frowned at the short length of rope tied in the middle of the clothing rack, the rest of the hangers pushed to the side to make room. A few inches dangled down from where the rope was knotted on the pole, and ended abruptly where it had obviously been cut with a knife of some kind.
He fingered the rope with a gloved hand, trying to discern what it's purpose had been. Then he stepped backwards, shaking his head. The Master's business was his own. A butler had no right to go snooping through his personal effects like this.
He returned to the dumbwaiter and walked towards the bedroom door. The master bathroom was located to his left, and his wandering eyes drifted to it. The sight of a full bathtub inside, and the large puddle of water all over the tiled floor, soaking into the edge of the carpet nearest him, made him stop.
The rope had been odd, but this was weird indeed. The tub was filled to overflowing, the water's height barely a centimeter below the tub's lip. There didn't appear to be anything else out of place or wrong, but Benjamin's gut instinct told him something had somehow gone wrong here.
Perhaps the Master had fallen? The water all over the floor pointed towards such a conclusion, but he couldn't be sure. He didn't appear to be favoring any of his limbs, but all that bundling could hide quite a lot.
Taking a careful step inside, Benjamin removed his glove and rolled up the sleeve of his white shirt. He reached down below the water, accidentally causing more water to spill over the edge, wetting his black shoes, and unplugged the drain. The water slowly began to recede, and he dried off with the nearest towel.
Benjamin left the room with a most intense uneasiness. This manor had terrible secrets, he'd come to learn. The people living in it did too, apparently.
A/N- I can't imagine Mark was able to kill himself so many times without any sort of sign left behind. Someone had to have noticed something.
ns 15.158.61.18da2
