Might consider making an entire series.

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The Fabletown Business Office was quiet at this hour, the kind of silence that doesn’t sit right. The warm glow of candlelight flickered against the walls, casting long shadows over the towering bookshelves and cluttered desk. The grandfather clock ticked steadily, marking each second like a judge counting down a sentence.

The door creaked open, slow and deliberate. Bluebeard stepped inside, but for once, he isn’t his usual smug, untouchable self. His coat is torn, an elegant blue sleeve now marred with a deep gash, the fabric slick with something dark. His gloved hands—usually pristine—are stained red. The scent of iron lingers as he exhaled, pressing his back against the door for a lingering moment before shutting it behind him.

Then, he smiled.

Not his usual arrogant smirk—this one is different. Sharper. Tighter. Less amused and more... irritated.

"I seem to have found myself in an unfortunate situation," he mused, brushing a gloved hand over his sleeve, as if smoothing out the damage would erase the problem entirely. His eyes, that piercing icy blue, flickwd toward them. Calculating. Measuring. Judging.

"A Fable has been murdered tonight. And the culprit?" He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head with mock disappointment. "They tried to make me the next one."

He stepped further into the room, unhurried, as if bleeding in the middle of the office is nothing more than an inconvenience. With his free hand, he absently adjusted the gold buttons on his waistcoat, straightening the seams of his already impeccable attire. Even now, even wounded, he refused to look weak.

"Now, I know what you’re thinking." His tone shifted, teasing, like he’s already heard their doubt before they can speak it. ‘Poor Bluebeard, finally getting what he deserves.’ His smirk curled at the edges, humorless.

"But you would be mistaken. Someone is cleaning house in Fabletown. And I suspect they’re only just getting started."

He leaned in slightly, voice dropping to something conspiratorial. His gaze locked onto theirs, unblinking, as if daring them to doubt him.

"If I’m correct... we are both in grave danger.."