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If you are a P5 GEPupil, you should have been given a task to write a mystery story in a Term One and Two. Well, so now I am sharing my mystery story with you. So P4 GEPupils, count yourself lucky and maybe you could get some inspiration for your own mystery story next year. As for P5 GEPupils, just treat this as viewing pleasure. Who knows what your reaction would be, after all, mine is one of the good ones in class (I am not boasting, please note the bolding of the "one of").
Part One of Mystery Story:
Title- Revenge Over Relations
Wilmore Casper strolled along the corridor, passing through his bedroom, pausing for a moment to admire the grand furnishings that even the royalty would have envied. Plush wallpaper patterned in red and gold thread covered the walls, setting off the beautiful paintings that he had collected over a lifetime. Each was truly a masterpiece, he mused. His four- poster bed dominated the center of his room, and priceless artifacts adorned his vast mahogany dressing table. Animal- skin rugs were strewn on the polished wooden floor, soft and smooth. It was already late at night and Wilmore look forward in resting, after a tiring day. He lay on the bed while closing his eyes. Wilmore began to hum, his mind forgetting for a few precious moments the pressures of the day’s business that awaited him the following day.
He looked up in surprise at the sound from the doorway and stopped humming. A shadow moved across the room.
The first shot sent Wilmore’s body slamming against his bed. The others, no louder than a series of pops, blasted holes in his chest and skull. In his last moment of consciousness, Wilmore recognized his killer. Then, his mind closed down for eternity.
The rising sun caused a rosy hue across the morning sky. Golden fingers of sunlight lit up the corridor. His footsteps echoed loudly on the polished marble floor. The valet calmly knocked on the door while carefully balancing the silver tray on his other hand. There was no response. Clearing his throat softly, the valet said in a polite voice, “Mr Casper, your breakfast is ready.” Silence. Gently pushing the door open, the valet repeated his earlier statement. Still silence. He walked into the spacious room and observed the scene. This was the first time the valet had a good look at Mr Casper’s room after working for him for about thirty years. The room was spacious with beautiful paintings that probably cost millions; the bed duvet was stained with blood; Mr Casper’s body was in a sleeping position. Being a calm and unflappable person, the valet studied him carefully then left to get help.
The valet’s feelings were neutral, he was a cold- hearted man. Mr Casper had never been kind to him. He treated everyone like they were peasants. The law said that there should be mutual respect between masters and servants. Not that the valet cared, he was used to his master’s arrogance. The valet was fine with everything as long as he get paid. A tiny smile played by his lips, as he imagined how his master’s family would react. Mrs Casper, Christina the young mistress and her fiancé, Ron Crave, were having their breakfast. Mr Casper never had breakfast with his family, he liked to eat alone and guiltily think about his first wife.
Mr Casper used to have a wife and a one-month-old son. Then, he fell in love with a widow, which was his current wife. That widow bore a child at that time which was the current young mistress. Mr Casper abandoned his first wife, but wanted the son. However, his wife secretly brought the child with her. Mr Casper was heart-broken and crest-fallen to lost his beloved son. He predicted that his son and wife would not live long, as the wife had nothing to provide for their son, no food and no money.
The valet walked into the dining hall and bowed to the Mrs Casper. His face betrayed no emotions. “Yes, Mr Lyons? How is Wilmore?” Mrs Casper asked while carefully dabbing her mouth with a napkin. “Ma’am, Mr Casper is dead,” the valet spoke while trying to find a way to convey the message best. A dead silence followed his sentence. A puzzled look flashed across the Mrs Casper face. The young mistress, Christina, and her fiancé, Ron, who were just engrossed in their own conversation, glanced up in surprise. Mrs Casper stood up and ordered Christina and Ron to follow her. With that, the Mrs Casper stalked out of the room.
The valet calmly watched them go, he then carefully cleaned the cutleries on the breakfast table, knowing that the Mrs Casper, Christina and Ron would not have any appetite after viewing the scene at Mr Casper’s room.
Meanwhile, Mrs Casper climbed up the stairs in a hurry. “Wilmore couldn’t be dead, he couldn’t be…” she quietly tried to persuade herself. The Mrs Casper took a deep breath before opening the door of Mr Casper’s room; she still could not believe the valet’s statement. She opened the door slowly expecting a greeting when she saw Mr Casper’s dead body; she let out a blood-curling scream. Mrs Casper felt the world closing around her and then she fainted. Christina, who was tailing her mother, caught her in her arms just in time before her head collided the ground. A few seconds later, Ron appeared breathlessly. Christina slowly walked into the room, towards the bed. Her father’s dead body greeted her. Christina flung her arms around Ron and started crying. He consoled her quietly while carrying Mrs Casper down to her room.
Leaving Christina with her mother, Ron leisurely strolled into the dining hall. Glancing at the clean table, his eyebrows wrinkled, clearly unsatisfied about something. Ron briefly nodded while pressing his lips together, muttering to himself softly about his father-in-law. Out of curiosity, Ron asked the valet how did he feel about the death of Mr Casper. “ Everyone has a death to meet. Death is nothing special or anything for you to be miserable about. I for one feel nothing about Mr Casper’s death.” the valet replied. Agitated by the valet’s ruthlessness, Ron exited the dining hall.
Upon arriving at his mother-in-law’s room, Ron heard Christina and Mrs Casper weeping. There was a solemn atmosphere in the air. “Mother, I think we should call the police. I want to know who killed father!” Christina said with a trail of sadness in her voice, just when Ron walked into the room. “I would prefer a private detective, darling. I do not want everything to appear on the papers! You must understand that your father is a famous and rich man, his death will result in many unpredictable things. It is better to keep this a private matter, but if things worsen, I will then consider your suggestion.” Mrs Casper answered sensibly. “But mother, who are you going to hire? I have never heard of any famous detectives in this area,” Christina asked. “I have a very good idea of who to ask, just leave this matter to me,” Mrs Casper replied. Ron nodded and smiled briefly, “ Who are you going to hire?”
“Oh, there is this detective that helped my friend, Lady Elena, before. His name is, Dylan Theodore. You may have heard of him, or you may not, perhaps I can invite him over.”
He looked up in surprise at the sound from the doorway and stopped humming. A shadow moved across the room.
The first shot sent Wilmore’s body slamming against his bed. The others, no louder than a series of pops, blasted holes in his chest and skull. In his last moment of consciousness, Wilmore recognized his killer. Then, his mind closed down for eternity.
The rising sun caused a rosy hue across the morning sky. Golden fingers of sunlight lit up the corridor. His footsteps echoed loudly on the polished marble floor. The valet calmly knocked on the door while carefully balancing the silver tray on his other hand. There was no response. Clearing his throat softly, the valet said in a polite voice, “Mr Casper, your breakfast is ready.” Silence. Gently pushing the door open, the valet repeated his earlier statement. Still silence. He walked into the spacious room and observed the scene. This was the first time the valet had a good look at Mr Casper’s room after working for him for about thirty years. The room was spacious with beautiful paintings that probably cost millions; the bed duvet was stained with blood; Mr Casper’s body was in a sleeping position. Being a calm and unflappable person, the valet studied him carefully then left to get help.
The valet’s feelings were neutral, he was a cold- hearted man. Mr Casper had never been kind to him. He treated everyone like they were peasants. The law said that there should be mutual respect between masters and servants. Not that the valet cared, he was used to his master’s arrogance. The valet was fine with everything as long as he get paid. A tiny smile played by his lips, as he imagined how his master’s family would react. Mrs Casper, Christina the young mistress and her fiancé, Ron Crave, were having their breakfast. Mr Casper never had breakfast with his family, he liked to eat alone and guiltily think about his first wife.
Mr Casper used to have a wife and a one-month-old son. Then, he fell in love with a widow, which was his current wife. That widow bore a child at that time which was the current young mistress. Mr Casper abandoned his first wife, but wanted the son. However, his wife secretly brought the child with her. Mr Casper was heart-broken and crest-fallen to lost his beloved son. He predicted that his son and wife would not live long, as the wife had nothing to provide for their son, no food and no money.
The valet walked into the dining hall and bowed to the Mrs Casper. His face betrayed no emotions. “Yes, Mr Lyons? How is Wilmore?” Mrs Casper asked while carefully dabbing her mouth with a napkin. “Ma’am, Mr Casper is dead,” the valet spoke while trying to find a way to convey the message best. A dead silence followed his sentence. A puzzled look flashed across the Mrs Casper face. The young mistress, Christina, and her fiancé, Ron, who were just engrossed in their own conversation, glanced up in surprise. Mrs Casper stood up and ordered Christina and Ron to follow her. With that, the Mrs Casper stalked out of the room.
The valet calmly watched them go, he then carefully cleaned the cutleries on the breakfast table, knowing that the Mrs Casper, Christina and Ron would not have any appetite after viewing the scene at Mr Casper’s room.
Meanwhile, Mrs Casper climbed up the stairs in a hurry. “Wilmore couldn’t be dead, he couldn’t be…” she quietly tried to persuade herself. The Mrs Casper took a deep breath before opening the door of Mr Casper’s room; she still could not believe the valet’s statement. She opened the door slowly expecting a greeting when she saw Mr Casper’s dead body; she let out a blood-curling scream. Mrs Casper felt the world closing around her and then she fainted. Christina, who was tailing her mother, caught her in her arms just in time before her head collided the ground. A few seconds later, Ron appeared breathlessly. Christina slowly walked into the room, towards the bed. Her father’s dead body greeted her. Christina flung her arms around Ron and started crying. He consoled her quietly while carrying Mrs Casper down to her room.
Leaving Christina with her mother, Ron leisurely strolled into the dining hall. Glancing at the clean table, his eyebrows wrinkled, clearly unsatisfied about something. Ron briefly nodded while pressing his lips together, muttering to himself softly about his father-in-law. Out of curiosity, Ron asked the valet how did he feel about the death of Mr Casper. “ Everyone has a death to meet. Death is nothing special or anything for you to be miserable about. I for one feel nothing about Mr Casper’s death.” the valet replied. Agitated by the valet’s ruthlessness, Ron exited the dining hall.
Upon arriving at his mother-in-law’s room, Ron heard Christina and Mrs Casper weeping. There was a solemn atmosphere in the air. “Mother, I think we should call the police. I want to know who killed father!” Christina said with a trail of sadness in her voice, just when Ron walked into the room. “I would prefer a private detective, darling. I do not want everything to appear on the papers! You must understand that your father is a famous and rich man, his death will result in many unpredictable things. It is better to keep this a private matter, but if things worsen, I will then consider your suggestion.” Mrs Casper answered sensibly. “But mother, who are you going to hire? I have never heard of any famous detectives in this area,” Christina asked. “I have a very good idea of who to ask, just leave this matter to me,” Mrs Casper replied. Ron nodded and smiled briefly, “ Who are you going to hire?”
“Oh, there is this detective that helped my friend, Lady Elena, before. His name is, Dylan Theodore. You may have heard of him, or you may not, perhaps I can invite him over.”
~ End of Part One ~
WOI UPDATE THIS BLOGZZZZ
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