Hey Poptropicans, this is a guest post by Magic Kid. Enjoy!
BOO! 
Hi guys, did I scare you? I’m Magic Kid, and after my long hiatus after my last fanfiction, Zombies, Zombies, Always Zombies!, I’m back with another Poptropica fic for y’all: Murder at Myron’s. I’ll post this fanfiction in four parts throughout the month of October as a Halloween treat for you PHB readers!
This series will be narrated by none other than Merlin, the mechanical owl from Astro-Knights Island, and will feature several Poptropica villains you know and love that will be introduced as the story goes on.
And now! Without further ado, I present you with…
Murder at Myron’s
(Part 1/4)
It was a dark and stormy night…
That’s how most stories start, right? Either that or “Once upon a time”, which wouldn’t suit the tale we were about to embark on anyway. But I assure you that the night of which our story starts was indeed “dark and stormy”.
Thunder echoed in every corner of the woods, lightning crackled and split the sky, the rain mercilessly poured from the heavy gray clouds. What a storm, what a storm!
And then, from the clouded night sky, a light shone. It was bright and it was… moving? Sure enough, the light was getting bigger, coming closer and closer to the ground.
Was it a UFO? Were perhaps aliens about to invade the lush forest? Good guess.
As the clouds parted to let this mysterious object land, it was now apparent that the light was from fire from the spaceship’s thruster. The rain pounded against the metal of the ship as it gently lowered itself down onto the earth, breaking the tall trees’ branches as it went.
BOOM! And with that, our ship had landed.
There was a pause, in which it seemed the forest had adapted to this unexpected visitor. The wind blew the trees in a way that nearly covered it from view. The rain wasn’t the only thing pounding on the ship; branches and twigs and leaves also showered down, giving the spaceship the appearance that it had already been there for a while.
And then it was still and quiet. Well, as still and quiet as a stormy forest could be. The spaceship just sat there. Doing nothing, nothing at all for a few minutes.
And then a door opened, and a figure stepped out. He had wrapped himself in a long jacket and braced himself against the strong winds. Just before the metal doors of the ship shut behind him, a creature flew out after him, flapping chaotically in the wind.
“Lovely weather,” the first figure said, frankly and unconcernedly, as though he was making a simple statement about a cherry on top of an ice-cream sundae.
Lightning cracked through the sky, illuminating the face of this Poptropican.
Mordred – AKA Binary Bard; Villain of Astro-Knights Island; Inventor and Genius, was briefly visible. His red robotic eye gleamed, hair neatly combed back for the occasion. His expression was analytical, and slightly bored, as though part of him would rather be somewhere else, but it didn’t matter. He was wearing a neat suit under his long dark jacket, and amazingly shiny black shoes. The effect was quite charming.
“If you say so! Personally, I do not favor it, but— ACK!”
Lightning lit up the forest. Again. This time the flying creature was visible. A robotic owl. That was me, Merlin!
Though the wind thrashed at me, though the rain pounded on my wings, I fought through the fierce wind bravely, keeping a steady flight despite the strong pushback by the wind—
Quick pause from the story: I might as well mention the fact that I will do my best not to distort this story in my favor, but I can’t promise you anything.
However, I guess I’ll tell you that I did not “fight through the fierce wind bravely”. I may or may not actually have been blown back by a gust of weak wind, somersaulted through the air and clung onto the sleeve of my master’s jacket like a klutzy coward—but that’s unrelated. Now back to the story:
“Merlin! What in Poptropica just happened? Ha! That was ridiculous!” Mordred laughed sharply into the stormy air.
Suddenly feeling like a small incompetent child crossing the street with a parent, holding onto the end of Mordred’s sleeve like that, I promptly let go of his jacket and steadied myself in the air as best I could.
“I was adjusting to the abnormal atmosphere,” I said.
Mordred waved his hand disbelievingly. “Sure, sure.”
I shot him a glare with my mechanical eyes, but quickly stopped. After all he is my master and I probably shouldn’t test his patience, especially this late at night.
And so we fought our way through the woods, the storm pushing back at us from every angle.
After a few minutes of that, Mordred frustratingly asked, “Are you sure that this is the right address?”
“Quite sure!” I replied, having to raise my voice over the wind, “It should be just a little farther!”
Sure enough, the next patch of brush we stumbled through we could see the glint of a light.
“That must be it!” Mordred moved faster, trudging through the bushes and tall grass, all the while the wind continued to be as stubbornly relentless as ever and the rain drenched his shoes.
Just a few more paces and a large old-fashioned cabin was visible. The porch light illuminated the path up to the house which Mordred took to at a brisk pace. I flapped along behind him, eager to get out of the rain. I did not want to test how water-resistant my machinery was.
I fluttered up, rested on the ornate porch light, and shook my metal feathers in hopes of drying myself before the water reached my circuit board or something else catastrophic.
Mordred picked the leaves, twigs, and pine needles off his jacket and hair. He used the shoe-shiner by the doormat to brush off the dirt, in an attempt to make his once glass-shiny shoes more clean.
Mordred sighed, “Couldn’t bother watching the weather report before deciding the date to have this dinner, could he?”
“I don’t think that Myron has access to things like weather reports out here.” A smooth voice came from the shadows.
I jumped in fright.
Black Widow – AKA Inspector Venue Noire; A Villain of Counterfeit Island; Art Thief— walked out from the shadows. She was wearing a sleeveless silky red dress with spider-web patterned fishnet sleeves and collar underneath. She had black gloves, a fluffy dark jacket, dark red heels, and startling red lipstick like a fire alarm.
She lazily inspected the robotic owl and then glanced at Mordred. “Oh, hello Mr. Complementary Colors.”
Mordred had taken off his damp jacket and now his purple suit and yellow tie was visible. He scowled at her.
“Oh, it’s you,” he said, staring icily at her, “I didn’t know you we’re coming.”
“Likewise,” she replied uncaringly. “If it’s any consolation, we won’t be the only ones coming; I heard from Mademoiselle Moreau that she and Director D are planning on coming, and heard a rumor that a few more will be coming.”
Mordred was now ringing his jacket of water. “Good. Just as long as that blasted rabbit doesn’t come, it should be a pleasant evening–”
Thunder suddenly boomed and a frightening silhouette was visible on the pathway to the cabin. Me, and even Mordred jumped back at the sudden appearance. Black Widow scoffed at him and we remained silent as the newcomer approached. He walked quite slowly and at ease, like the wind and rain didn’t bother him.
“Good evening,” he said in a thick accent as he finally reached the porch. He smiled and two fangs glinted in the yellowish porch light.
Count Bram — Vampire; Villain of Vampire’s Curse Island — had now joined us. He was wearing an old fashioned suit and vest with an ascot and a large dark cloak. On his pale hand glistened many shiny rings. The lighting from the lightning behind him cut a highlight into his chiseled jaw and outlined his skeleton thin figure. The colors he was wearing were similar to Black Widow’s: lots of red and black.
“Black Widow, Mordred, Merlin.” He inclined his head for each name with his dark slicked-back hair.
I had not been expecting to have been mentioned in his greeting, most people just overlook me or cast me aside. I had never met Count Bram before this night but after that, I can clarify that his first impression was really really good.
“Vel,” he said with his accent when no one replied, “Vhat are you vating for? Let’s go inside before ve freeze in vis veather.”
(If you struggle to understand “vhat” he is saying, try saying it out loud!)
Mordred started for the door knocker, but Black Widow was just a little faster with the doorbell.
“TALLY HO!” The doorbell echoed in Myron Van Buren’s voice. I flapped down onto Mordred’s shoulder.
There was a shuffling of footsteps behind the door and a sound like many many locks unlocking and clinking.
The door swung open and Myron’s butler – AKA Winston — bowed us inside.
“Good evening, everyone,” he said as we shuffled inside. Everyone shivered in the sudden warmth and began to take off their coats and hang them on the coat rest.
I, who could not shiver, and I, who did not have a coat, gazed wide-eyed around the cabin. It was HUGE, with ornate wildlife-aesthetic decorations, and the furniture had a rustic edge to it. I could spend hours describing every detail of this cabin (it was a lot less like a cabin and more like a mansion, to tell you the truth). There were quite a few taxidermied wild animals mixed in the decor — some were frankly terrifying. I nervously avoided the glassy gaze of a stuffed owl I had noticed as Winston cordially guided the group to the dining room.
“I’m so glad you all could make it,” Winston drawled as we walked, “Mr. Van Buren will be very pleased — once I find where he’s at; probably in his trophy room again. Others are here as well. They are currently enjoying appetizers that Isabella, our chef, made as a treat while we wait.”
Winston halted at a double door and then bowed us inside.
This was the dining room. A long, rugged, yet somehow fancy wooden table took up the bulk of this room. On the ceiling was a beautiful chandelier. When you looked down, on the table was a vast array of curious bite-sized snacks, dishware, and a pitcher. There were many chairs around the table, most of which were full.
Ladies and gentlemen, it is now time to introduce you to all the guests of this party! We have:
Captain Crawfish — Chief Navigator of the Seas and Gold Enthusiast from Skullduggery Island. His outfit wasn’t much different than his normal pirate-wear, it was just a little fancier. He still wore his pirate hat (I noticed how Winston glanced disappointingly judgemental-like at it) but his bandana was switched to a nice gold color to match his tooth and earrings.
Gretchen Grimlock, Monster Lover from Cryptids Island, was wearing a bright pink mermaid-style dress with an oversized purplish-magenta coat that she seemed to have not left on the coat hanger. Her hair was still up high. And she had dark shadows under her eyes, like most guests here (they were all villains after all).
Director D — the Evil Version of James Bond; A Villain of Spy Island — was still in his white suit; there is not much else to describe about him, as he had absolutely no change in his wardrobe, unlike the others. Morderd sat by him and I perched myself on the back of the chair.
Sitting on the other side of Director D was Mademoiselle Moreau; a French reporter as well as a villain of Mystery Train Island. She was wearing a stylish mauve dress and black gloves that went past her elbows. She was no longer wearing her hat but her blond hair was held back with a black fishnet covering that ended in a velvet flower in the back of her head.
I was surprised to see Daphne Dreadnaught; Ghost Hunter from Spook Central, there too. She was the youngest one there and didn’t bother changing out of her normal clothes. She sat with dirt smudged on her face and her arms crossed. She was having a conversation (more like her ranting and the other nodding and occasionally making a comment) with:
Ringmaster Raven — AKA Bird Man; Hypnotist from Monster Carnival Island — who was in a handsome dark purple suit with a black collared shirt and a white bowtie.
And that (besides Isabella the chef, and Winston the butler) was everyone at the table. Thank you for bearing with me as I made introductions.
Black Widow waved at a few people around the table and sat down. Meanwhile Bram noticed Raven and beelined to the open seat by him.
“Welcome everyone!” Winston said, and the talking and clinking of cutlery subsided. Thunder echoed from outside.
“I’m sure tonight’s host, Myron Van Buren, will be very pleased that all of you decided to brave the storm and make it here tonight! It should be great, all the Poptropica villains getting together. Once I find Myron we will have dinner, and then retire to the parlor and play a few games and such. Now if you excuse me–”
He left the room, presumably to find Myron.
Everyone broke out in conversation again.
“So, how’s it been, Mordred?” Director D asked whilst examining a stuffed pepper.
Mordred sighed. “Ah, nothing much. Finished one of my many projects: fixing my spaceship. I have a lot more I’d like to work on though. Also still trying to come up with a plot to take over Poptropica, but then again, aren’t we all?”
Moreau laughed “Ha! I’ve never heard a truer statement. Cheers!”
They clinked their glasses.
“Well, what about you two?” Mordred asked after he finished his gulp.
“Oh, a little of this, a little of that,” Moreau said.
Director D rested his head on his hand in a tired way. “Ah. Where to begin? I’ve got far too many things going on, I’m lucky to have found time to come to this dinner. Most of the things I’m doing are top-secret so I’m not sure how much I can say.”
He paused and after contemplating what to say next, he added, “There’s a bomb involved.”
“OOOoooOOOOooo,” the other two exclaimed in unison. And then all three laughed.
Now this goes without saying but I’m going to say it anyway. They are villains. Every time they laugh it sounds very, evil, crazy, maniacal, and any other words you can use to describe the hair-raising laughter that all these villains are capable of.
Their conversation continued like that for a while.
They reminisced about “the good times” when they were the most in power, and they laughed at inside jokes, and complained about that one Poptropican (they couldn’t remember the name, something magic-related, but they didn’t care) who always foiled their plots by the most random methods, and they plotted and brainstormed wacky ideas that hardly made practical sense but were fun to discuss anyway.
Occasionally another villain jumped into the conversation for a brief while, making a sarcastic comment, or adding in an idea or detail that Mordred, Director D, and Moreau might have missed.
The first one who began to be concerned about the long absence of Winston was Gretchen Grimlock. “He’s been gone for so long; I wonder what’s taking him and Myron this long.”
After a few more comments like that, Daphne said grudgingly ,“I’ll go find them both and see what’s taking him so long, I guess.” And she slunk out of the room.
The cheerful air that everyone in the room had felt was spiked slightly with worry, though no one acknowledged it. They had come to dinner parties hosted by Myron like this before, he normally couldn’t wait to join everyone.
After a few minutes, Daphne banged the door open dramatically. Everyone looked up from their food and conversations, and stared, unamused.
She walked into the dining room, followed by a dismayed-looking Winston.
The remaining wisps of conversation were stomped out. Winston took a deep breath and addressed the guests.
“I’m afraid,” he said, rather calmly, “that Myron Van Buren is missing.”
TO BE CONTINUED…
PART TWO COMING SOON 
Hope you enjoyed this guest post by Magic Kid. If you did, check out her previous fanfiction titled “Zombies, Zombies, Always Zombies!”.
The Poptropica Help Blog welcomes interesting Poptropica insights from anyone in the Poptropica community with thoughts to share. Interested in writing for the PHB? We’d love to hear from you!