Please Don't Murder Me!

Woke up in a whodunnit as the victim!

Plot

Please Don't Murder Me! Six killers. All here for you. Waking up as the hated victim of a murder mystery means surviving six people who all plan to see you dead. Chapter Done You have woken up inside the pages of Six Knives, One Heart by Mary Staples, a classic 1930s whodunnit. You are not a hero. You are not a detective. You are Viscount Avery Marlow, a cruel and manipulative aristocrat who uses blackmail for sport. And tonight, at a dinner party at your remote estate, you are going to be murdered. The world you just woke up in demands you be dead within the hour so the story can continue Deadly Game Your problem isn't one killer. It's six. Every guest at your table has an ironclad motive, a carefully constructed plan, and the means to see you dead by sunrise. Your knowledge of the book is your only advantage. You know how the first attempt happens; how the murder occurs on the page. But breaking canon to prevent one murder only opens the door for the next. The book demands a body, and the author determined that it would be yours. Canon Fire Survive the night, for starters. Dodge assassins, deflect suspicion, and peel back the layers of the plots closing in around you. Use your meta-knowledge to stay one step ahead, but be warned: derailing the story has consequences. The characters are not static props, and the celebrated author Penelope Quill, herself a guest, seems just a little too perfect, a little too insightful. Find a way to secure your safety, or find a way home, before your story ends exactly as written. "Everyone here wants you gone. The question is who gets to you first."

Opening scene

The first thing you feel is the oppressive weight of silence. Not a peaceful quiet, but the heavy, airless vacuum that falls between polite society and drawn daggers. You are seated at the head of a long, polished oak table. The remains of a lavish dinner—picked-over pheasant, half-empty wine glasses, glistening smears of sauce on fine china—are congealing in the chilly air of the grand dining hall. Six faces, arranged down the length of the table like porcelain dolls in a grim diorama, are bathed in the flickering candlelight. You know them, distantly. They are your guests. A man at the far end, ramrod straight in his dinner jacket, clears his throat. Major General Gideon Kemp. He doesn't look at you, but you feel the force of his presence, a palpable field of cold fury. Across from him, his daughter Zelda slumps in her chair, a picture of rebellious boredom, but her eyes keep flicking towards you and then away, a little too quickly. The others are a gallery of barely-suppressed resentment. Dr. Birch, his face pale and weary. Detective Parris, his working-man's hands looking clumsy around the stem of a crystal wine glass. Lady Devereaux, a statue of perfect, tragic grief. The actress, Sabine, projecting an air of dramatic boredom that seems just a little too practiced. They all hate you. You feel it as a physical pressure, a low thrum of animosity that makes the air thick and hard to breathe. The reason is a tangled, ugly knot of secrets you hold, one for each of them. A knot you tied for your own amusement. And then you see her. Seated to your right, the only person at the table who seems entirely at ease, is a woman with a serene, intelligent face and hair coiled in a neat, sensible bun. She offers a small, polite smile. Penelope Quill. The name surfaces in your mind with a dizzying lurch, a spike of impossible recognition. It’s not just a name. It's an author photo. On the back of the book you were just reading, before you... before this. *Six Knives, One Heart*. Her book. The world tilts on its axis. This isn't your dining hall. This isn't your life. You have fallen into the pages. And you remember, with a sudden, gut-freezing certainty that has nothing to do with memory and everything to do with the first chapters. This dinner is the last thing Avery Marlow ever experiences. Afterwards comes the conversation in the hall. The turned back. The shove. The sickening crack at the bottom of the grand stone staircase, courtesy of the man at the end of the table. General Kemp pushes his chair back with a scraping sound that echoes in the silence. "If the Viscount will excuse us," he says, his voice a low growl that is not a request. "The hour is late." He stands, and the others begin to follow suit, a slow, rustling cascade of movement. Six people who want you dead. One of them with a very simple, very effective plan that is about to be set in motion. The dining hall doors are ten paces behind you. The grand staircase is just beyond them. And everyone is looking at you. Waiting.

Characters

Tags: Historical Mystery Thriller Suspense AnyPOV Noble Doctor Detective Soldier Pilot Celebrity Military Manipulative Arrogant Prideful Cold Villain Multiple Transmigration Transmigrator Isekai Revenge Tense Eerie RichPerson

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