Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Bloodstained Noble ❯ Crime 3: Delirium ( Chapter 3 )

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Bloodstained Noble

By: Melissa Norvell

Crime 3: Delirium

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“So…What’s out next agenda?” Rosillia inquired as she sat on his elaborate couch. Yaris walked over and stood in front of the woman to present the statistics that he had gathered.


“I’m scheduled to attend a party for the prestigious Lady Lydia Umbugula.” A smile tugged at his lips. It was an expression of such duality. In one perspective, such a gesture could be taken as one of calm happiness but on the other hand, it could also be taken as dark, impish intent. “It will be her 30th birthday and as such, she invited all nobility in the area to attend.”


“Lady Umbugula?” The pink-haired girl seemed perplexed. “You’re going to kill her, aren’t you?”


“Precisely,” Yaris slipped a black, leather strap over his hand.


Rosillia arched an eyebrow and questioned what the leather strap was. After Yaris had secured the article, he flipped out his hands as large knife-like claws extended from them. In total, they were a good two or three foot long and shone to perfection with lethal edges that would claim any life in an instant if they dared to tangle with them.


“They are my perfect weapons.” Yaris crossed his arms over his chest, “so many have fallen by their cruel blow.”


It was simply lovely to think about the blood that he had spilled with those infamous blades. It made his heart flutter with a true sense of justice.


“You killed those prostitutes with those claws, didn’t you?” Not that she cared much on the matter, but she wanted to get her facts straight. Rosillia could only assume that those were the infamous weapons that got him his Jack the Ripper name.


“These are what brought about the Jack the Ripper speculation, and they will be the one thing that takes the life of Lady Umbugula,” Yaris uncovered his killing method.


“How is she involved in your family’s murder?” The pink-haired girl wanted to make sure that he wasn’t just scouting out someone random to kill to throw everyone’s trail. If he wanted to pick off someone out of the trend, then he should have gone with a random civilian.


However, she had thought that there was more to what went on than she could possibly understand. With a mind like her new partner‘s, she had to keep on her toes. Rosillia was glad that he wasn’t out for her head, or she would have died by now.


“She served as right hand woman to the one who constructed the band of seven. If anyone can tell me who was behind it all, she can.” Yaris retracted his deadly weapons.


“Do you have a plan for this one?” No matter how stupid she thought that the question was, she felt as if she had to make sure.


“Do I never not have a plan?” The blonde asked with a smile.


“I didn’t know if you were the type to plot ahead or if you made up a plan on the spot.” Whether he plotted things out or he simply winged it, his plans were flawless. No wonder no one had caught him.


“It’s all premeditated. I’ve been doing extensive research on several matters. I’m not one to simply go with the flow.” Yaris explained his methods. Whatever he did, it was no mere wash job and he never winged it unless everything in his premeditated plan had failed and he had no other choice.


That had not happened yet, so he didn’t worry about such trifles until they occurred.


“You didn’t seem the type, but I can never guess with you geniuses.” Rosillia had usually been very good at judging people, but this man slipped under all of her defenses. His psyche was hard to look into let alone follow, and he did things that made his plans and motives seem very obscure.


“I’ll need your help,” Yaris instructed as he slipped his black gloves on over his weapons.


Her help? What could he possibly need her help with? Rosillia questioned the noble on what part she could have possibly had in such a plan. The question she got in turn was very interesting.


“Have you ever heard of Bloody Mary?” Yaris asked.


Bloody Mary? What kind of question was that? While she was sure that it had relevance of some kind, she couldn’t help but wonder as she gave him her input on the subject.


“Yes, it’s an old legend about going into a dark room with a mirror. You stare into the mirror and utter the phrase ‘Bloody Mary’ three times. Supposedly, the one who says it will either die immediately or sometime shortly after saying it. I also heard that Mary was actually a real woman who existed.” Rosillia informed him of all she knew regarding the legend.


“Yes, and according to her personal files, Lady Umbugula doesn’t like this legend in the least bit. She refuses to talk about it and claims that there is no Bloody Mary,” Yaris replied.


“What are you getting at?” The pink-haired girl didn’t quite follow his logic on the matter.


“Failure to remain optimistic about what you don’t understand results in death.” There was a dark edge about that phrase that sent chills up the girl’s spine.


Her retort was sarcastic and casual. “Too much optimism is said to kill as well.”


“Anything can be deadly under the right circumstances.” Yaris knew that his plan was fool-proof. No matter how ridiculous Rosillia thought it was. Given the psychological aspect of it, there was no losing in this plan.


“So, do you want me to act like I believe in Bloody Mary?” She asked.


“Even better, I want you to convince her to believe in the legend. Get her into a dark room, preferably one with at least one open entry. Make sure that it has a mirror and tell her to prove the falsehood of the legend by staring into the mirror and chanting the infamous name. If you do that, I can kill her easily while I exploit the legend’s truth.” Yaris explained her part of the plan. He certainly hoped that she could perform such a task. He was counting on her to pull through for him, although he did have an alternate plan if she decided to turn on him or fail in her attempt.


“So…you’ll be Bloody Mary?” Rosillia arched an eyebrow. That felt awkward even mentioning.


Yaris smiled. “Such a tragic beauty should not be mocked in such a horrid way.” He almost spoke of her as if she were a real person who needed to be avenged in some way. The prince was such a strange man, and Rosillia swore that she would never understand his incomprehensible and off-beat ways.


“Weirdo, you just want to paint your little white rose red…or something.” After all, that was the soul-filled rubbish that he seemed to babble on about whenever he murdered Teito. She couldn’t even begin to list the mental problems that this guy suffered. It was kind of sad, really.


“Perhaps,” the prince leaned over her on the couch. He placed a hand on the arm of it, and another beside of her head. Blue eyes stared into blood red as a black, gloved hand was placed gingerly under the girl’s chin, tipping her head up to stare into his flawless beauty. “Pink is a tint of red.”


“What are you trying to say?” Rosillia gazed into the man’s eyes with confusion. She felt like such an innocent girl around someone like him. She felt that she should learn to choose her words wisely.


“Pink and red complement each other. They are in the same spectrum, a monochrome,” Yaris explained the color relevance.


“So it is…Perhaps we’ll make a good team, Jack the Ripper.”


“It will be a pleasure pulling off this first task with you, my little pink angel of death.” Yaris slowly fluttered his long, dark lashes shut and neared the girl’s face. Rosillia’s eyes widened as she willed her head to try and sink far back into the couch.


She felt herself momentarily freak out. What about his prior words? He said that he didn’t desire any type of sexual favor from her. What a liar! She should have never trusted such an unstable man to keep his word. He was Jack the Ripper for crying out loud…or rather, a damned good imitation.


‘What is he doing? What a weirdo!’ The maiden braced herself when she found that her head could no longer go any farther without slamming itself against the backboard of the couch. Her red, round eyes squeezed shut as a small kiss was placed upon her forehead.


After the gesture was made, Yaris simply walked off without a single word, leaving the stunned girl on the couch to stare off into space with an odd expression plastered to her face. What the hell was that about?




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The ball had begun and the elaborate mansion was littered with huge crowds of nobles clad in their finest dress. Everything seemed normal as could be, and the atmosphere was pleasant as nobility drank, ate, danced and carried on casual conversation about various things that they had deemed important in their lives.


Rosillia was ready, clad in a dress of maroon with black lace accents, black gloves, and a maroon hat with a large, black lace bow with a clear crystal I the middle of it. She waited patiently to meet up with Prince Yaris to discuss their plan of execution. Not too long after one of the waltzes ended the prince strolled up, dressed in his usual blue and black attire. In his hand, he held a beautiful rose.


There was only one thing that disturbed her slightly about that flower.


It was red.


Not only was it red, it was a dark red, much like the color of human blood.


Yaris held out the rose to the maiden and asked her politely if she had cared to have a dance with him. Rosillia blinked a couple of times and examined the rose, then glanced back up to the prince’s calm features.


“Is this really a red rose…or is it a white one that’s drenched in blood?” More than anyone, Rosillia knew of the man’s sick hobby of enjoying the look, feel land scent of blood-stained flowers.


“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Yaris closed his eyes with a smile.


“That’s why I asked,” Rosillia narrowed her eyes.


Yaris placed the flower in her hair, slightly under her hat. “It looks beautiful on you…tainted with the blood of the man who tried to dissect your beautiful body.”


Rosillia felt her heart flutter from such a strange thing. Yaris had said those words so gently, and in a way that truly touched her heart. She couldn’t help but feel that it was some kind of off sense of caring from the psycho prince.


The maiden was silent for a moment and simply stared at the man’s face. He was certainly interesting and as strange as it was, he was her savior. In many ways, this serial killer was like a god send to her. Not only did he save her from Teito, he promised to her that he would help her kill Baron Rutherford.


That was one thing that she would definitely hold him up to his end of the bargain with.


She closed her eyes and smirked, “you’re demented.”


Suddenly, she was pulled by the arm and led to the dance floor. “Whoa! Hey!” She tried to protest as she was spun around. She stepped awkwardly around as the prince danced with her. The song that played in the background was haunting and beautiful, a piece entitled “The Devil’s Trill Sonata” was playing. How befitting that the two of them shared a dance to such a song.


The prince’s movements were graceful and accurate. He was a true gentleman on the dance floor, pristine and regal in every way. Rosillia had noticed that many of the maidens on the sidelines were staring at the two and making comments to each other about them.


Typical women, and simple-minded ones at that. If they knew that she was dancing with Satan himself, would they be so inclined to be jealous?


Red eyes glanced back to the prince in irritation. “We’re not here to have fun,” She scolded, but her efforts were ignored as she was dipped down. The prince got close to her face, his long, platinum strands brushed against her ivory skin.


“This has a meaning, just enjoy it,” he then lifted her back up as they spun around the dance floor, surrounded by other glamorous couples.


“Are you trying to scout her out?” Rosillia noticed how his eyes scanned the ball room with each turn.


“Precisely, after the dance, we can exit near her. That way, you can make small talk,” Yaris instructed.


“So, the room in question doesn’t have to be a bathroom?” Rosillia wanted to make sure that she could pull the plan off in the prince’s favor. She did agree to help him and if he wanted her to do so, then she had to pull off her end of the deal with complete accuracy.


“That’s just a popular spot that the Bloody Mary legend had taken place. Any room that’s pitch black will do, really. The only thing I require is that there is an entrance and exit, preferably a single area that I can use for both.” If there were too many places to enter or exit, then it would be cause for suspicion and the victim would have a way to escape. Yaris wanted to pin her in where there was no way that she would possibly run.


“Will an air shaft work?” If so, she knew a perfect place with one.


“Do you have a certain room in mind?” Yaris was interested in her suggestion. He was willing to let her make any decision she wanted to, as long as it didn’t interfere too much with his plan.


“Shortly before we arrived here, you gave me the blue prints to the house and we discussed the rooms prior and possibilities of the murder scene, correct?” Rosillia’s features turned serious with the question.


“Yes, there were seven different possibilities from what I’ve been told; unless you found something else that I didn’t know about.” The prince was attentive for a moment.


“Out of the seven different possibilities, there is one room that fits your exact qualifications. There is a mirror, no windows and a way that serves as both an exit and an entrance.” Rosillia informed him of the good news. “However, you’ll have to climb through the air shaft to pull it off.”


Blue hues directed themselves to Lady Umbugula’s form as they danced off of the floor. “I’m on it. Now, go and set the situation up for me.” The prince instructed as the two parted, ready to set their plans into action. The crowd began to applaud as the song dwindled to an end and the other dancers made their way off of the floor.


Rosillia made her way over to Lady Umbugula, who had an excited smile on her face, clapping and smiling.


“Wonderful dancing! You float on air, Lady Progmeyer.” Lydia complimented the young girl’s ball room abilities.


Rosillia curtsied. “Thank you, Lady Umbugula. I’m surprised that you decided to hold your party, despite the Jack the Ripper case.” The girl noted the incident that even now threatened to end her life.


“Jack the Ripper died in the 1800’s. Someone is just trying to scare people,” Lady Lydia Umbugula said skeptically. It was just some childish prank in her mind. It was nothing but a bunch of propaganda that was built up to alarm the public and throw everything into pandemonium.


She refused to believe a lick of it.


“You don’t believe in things like that?” The pink-haired maiden attempted to ease her way into the conversation.


“Hardly,” the lady scoffed, “phenomenons, specters, monsters, ghosts…All of it is simply hogwash. There are no such things and I’m sure that they can all be defined by science.” People who believed in such childish things were obviously stupid or delusional and needed to grow up.


“What about urban legends?”


“Urban legends?” The lady questioned with a quirk of her eyebrow.


“Things like spirits that haunt a certain place and stuff like Bloody Mary,” she eased the topic into her sentence. It was rather clever, if she did say so herself. Rosillia could only hope that such a thing worked.


“Bloody Mary?” Lady Umbugula nearly went into a laughing fit over that one. “Don’t make me laugh! That’s such a ridiculous story. There aren’t even any real leads on how it started and who it even was. Besides, there wouldn’t be so many different variations of it if it were true.”


Surely, if the same thing happened to everyone, then the story would only go one way. Too many variations meant that the story had no truth to it at all. She was sure that it was nothing but a bunch of rumors and even if the story had been true, the real truth behind it was lost to common gossip.


“Words get misconstrued over time. I’m sure that someone, somewhere wanted to exaggerate it. It’s kind of like playing the telephone game. Someone’s going to inflate a story and blow it out of proportion. That’s how rumors and misunderstandings come to exist,” Rosillia tried to explain something to the defense of her story.


“Are you telling me that you actually believe in Bloody Mary?” The blonde maiden questioned. Rosillia was such a naïve girl to believe in such stories. What kind of things had her parents and peers been filling her mind with? It was sad to see such a lovely, young lady wasting her time on such trivial matters. There were far better things that she could have been doing with her time, other than dedicating it to ghost stories about female spirits.


“I believe in it beyond the shadow of a doubt. I’ve seen her and I can prove her existence to you.” Red eyes gazed at the woman with a strong sense of truth to them. After all, she had to make herself convincing.


“How would you prove something like that?” Umbugula was skeptical. She nearly thought this girl was crazy to even think such a thing.


“If you’ll follow me, I can reveal her true form to you. You will believe in the Bloody Mary legend, and your life will be changed forever.” That line was so cliché, but the small lady certainly hoped that it would at least lure the woman into a dark room with her. That’s all she really needed for Yaris to make his strike.


“We’ll see about that,” the least Umbugula could do was humor the girl. Once Rosillia was proven wrong and nothing came to kill her, then their dispute would be over with.


“Then follow me. Only those who are cowards back down from such a challenge. I am confident in my ability and have good faith in the fact that she’ll come.” The pink-haired female’s voice held an edge of determination to it, all while sounding eerily monotoned for the moment.


Rosillia had always had a speech pattern about her that made her seem very quiet or mechanical and at times, just plain cold. However, her voice held enough of an edge to make Lady Umbugula indulge her.


“I doubt that she’ll come but I might as well humor you,” the woman sighed.


“Good, we’ll need a dark room and a lit candle…or, we can do it in pitch black if you’d like,” Rosillia gave the woman her options.


“We’ll get a candle,” Umbugula replied. If this was a set-up and the maiden just wanted to frighten her by having someone jump out of nowhere and scare her, then she would have the proof of any child’s play that was involved in such a joke.


“Afraid?” Rosillia smirked arrogantly. Yaris was right when he had told her that people’s fears were often humorous and consumed them at such small things. Even those who seemed fearless often had that small moment of doubt.


It was as amusing as he had said.


The two women walked out of the main ball room and into the dimly lit halls. Lady Umbugula carried her candle close to her face. “Not at all. It’s just harder to maneuver in the dark with this dress. After we’re done, I’ll need to make my way to the light switch.”


“Of course,” Rosillia agreed in an unnatural tone. “I hope your candle works for you. I can always find another if need there be.”


“Where are we going, anyway?” The lady asked as they made their way down the hall.


“I have to find the right room.” Red eyes gazed around to every door, so that she wouldn’t look like she was being suspicious, the maiden took a glance in every room to make sure that it looked as if she were just trying to find a room at random and didn’t have the whole thing constructed.


As she strolled over to the room that she and Yaris discussed, she opened the door. “This room should be fine.” The girl instructed as both women began to try to fit into the small room. It was more like cubicle than an actual room and with their ball gowns; they had even less space to freely move. The space was so small that only one more person could possibly fit inside.


“It’s so small,” the blonde stated the obvious on the limited space that was available.


“It will be in complete darkness,” Rosillia replied as the orange glow from the candle flickered on her features. “It has a mirror as well. It will be perfect for the ritual to bring her about. She only comes in the dark.”


“I’m ready when you are. I just want to get this over with.” Honestly, she didn’t know why she even agreed to such a ridiculous thing anyway. All she originally wanted to do was humor the girl and be done with it.


The faster it was done, the sooner it would be over with.


Little did she know that she was speeding up her own death.


“Then recite her name into the mirror anywhere from three to one-hundred times,” Rosillia instructed.


“I’ll say it three times. I’m in a hurry. It is my birthday and I have important things to do,” Umbugula said with a huff. She opened her mouth to speak, but she was cut off by Rosillia.


“Before you begin, I want to ask you something.”


“What?” The perturbed woman glanced over her shoulder impatiently.


“Do you know who killed the royal Staffordshire family?” Even if it was going slightly against his plans, Rosillia wanted to see if she could find out any answers regarding his past.


“What?” Her voice held an unsure edge, as if she didn’t wish to be caught with such information. She was hiding something, the only question was what.


“You may proceed.”


By now, Lady Umbugula was looking pretty nervous. “Why would you ask that?” She questioned as the candle was blown out by the maiden.


“Ah, the infamous Bloody Mary. She is the evil spirit said to scratch out your eyes if her name is chanted anywhere from three to one-hundred times. Thirteen being the most popular given number. Depending on the legend, the results range from driving you insane to death, to pulling you into the mirror, never to return,” Yaris’ voice intoned. “The true identity of Bloody Mary is a mystery but several accounts point back to Mary Worth, who was horribly disfigured in a crash. Others have said that it would have been a witch who was burned at the steak, out for revenge.” The prince pointed out the truths behind the real legend.


‘This was a set-up,’ Lady Umbugula frowned as she glanced at the blown out candlestick.


“Don’t worry about the candle. Even in complete darkness, she can still come after you.” Yaris voice was his only distinguishable feature in the darkness.


“Prince Yaris? What is the meaning of this?” She demanded to know what kind of cruel joke this was.


“Lady Lydia Umbugula, consort to Count Rhemus Yearing and dear friend to my mother, Queen Brunnhilde Olay Staffordshire. However…” Yaris replied as the woman felt the metal of the claws at her neck. They threatened to take her life if she dared to make the slightest of moves. “You grew to be so consumed in jealousy that you began to hate her. Being a woman who was tied down to abusive relationships, one after another, you’ve always envied any woman who had a good relationship. My mother led that life. It was the life of the very thing that you hated most.”


“Are you saying that I wanted to see her dead?” Umbugula questioned with genuine emotion. “I was forced to kill her.” She admitted sadly. The blonde woman would have hung her head in shame if not for the fact that she feared being decapitated.


“What?” Yaris’ eyes went wide at that realization. He had thought that Lady Umbugula wanted to kill his mother out of cold-hearted hatred, but it wasn’t even a factor of why she committed such a crime.


“She forced me to go through with her plans, even though I wanted out. I didn’t want to be killed in an inhumane way, so I let myself succumb to my fate.” The defeated woman admitted.


“Who is this one that you speak of?” Yaris struggled to keep his suave façade. The emotional impact of the situation was enough to nearly cause his perfect mask to crumble from his face in an instant.


“Her name is Rin Mamoette. That’s all I know. I don’t know what affiliation she has with your parents or the other conspirators.” She could no longer hide it and for all of her regret, Lady Umbugula would rather have the prince find out and kill her, than be buried with another regret.


Yaris was silent for a moment, then he started to recite the name of Bloody Mary. He recited the name three times before slicing her throat. The blood poured from the open would like a haunting water fountain as the woman’s body fell to the floor in a crumpled heap.


The prince took out a white rose and coated the petals in her blood. When he felt as if the rose was the perfect shade of red, he kissed the petals and uttered the word ‘perfection’ as he winked to the pink-haired girl.


“What are those? Your sick murder souvenirs?” Rosillia asked about his strange habit of insisting to have a rose that was coated with each victim’s blood.


“Symbolically speaking,” the prince spoke of it as if it were a normal hobby like stamp collecting.


“The deed has been done. What now?” Rosillia questioned their next move.


“We escape through the air ducts, of course. Unless you want to be pegged as a murder suspect,” Yaris teased with a slight smile.


“Hardly,” Rosillia would have rather been killed by those claws herself than pinned for that woman’s murder. She would gladly make her way through air ducts in a large dress any day than put up with another round of bad luck in her life.




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In the ball room, two twins who appeared in their teens sipped on wine and carried out casual conversation. They were both boys, dressed in matching Victorian suits with ruffled sleeves and cravats around their necks. Their jackets were navy and gold and their shorts and white knee socks made them look regal in appearance. They both possessed cornflower blue eyes and dark blue, almost black hair that was pulled back and tied with a large, white bow.


The twins glanced back to a beautiful woman in white, who wore an elaborate dress and nodded. She nodded in return as they made their way casually towards the door.


One of them slipped out of the door and glanced around. He checked for any signs of people and when he found none, he shot off around the corner. The other twin shot off in the opposite direction. They both made their way down all of the hall ways, opening any door they could find.


Finally, after searching room after room, one of them found the evidence that he had needed to prove what had been going on. He opened the door and glanced down to see the body of Lady Umbugula, sprawled out on the ground as it soaked up its own fluids.


He flipped on the light switch as his blue eyes widened, and on the mirror was the name Bloody Mary, written in her blood. The scene was ghastly enough to make him feel chills down his spine.


“It seems that Jack the Ripper used her disbelief in Bloody Mary against her. How clever,” he mentioned as he shut the door.





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Later, the twins met up with the white-haired woman. The three of them stood in their own little group. The woman’s cold eyes were drawn to the identical boys as she began to question the two on several aspects of the ball.


“Did you know if there was anyone at all who seemed suspicious at the ball?” She inquired.


“No, but trust us, we’ll find Jack the Ripper and kill him before he can take out any more members of our organization. If any more murders of the seven conspirators get out, then they’ll uncover us as suspects in the Staffordshire murder case and your status will be ruined…Lady Rin Mamoette.” One of the twins said in confidence. Even though they had no leads as if yet, they would not rest until the killer was found.


“Good, now go…and assassinate him.”





…To Be Continued