Fanon:The Sunset Valley Murders







Notes:
- The entire family is in the Familly Bin, avalable since the base game.

- Irene and Spencer are actually meant to be twins, but I desided to make him older than she is.

Prologue:
My name is Irene Funke. I’m here to tell you how my entire family died. I’m not here to blame anyone. I’m here merely to state the facts, how I remember them.

My family moved to Sunset Valley in its heyday, when the only major nuisance was the occasional burglar, or maybe some ghosts. Otherwise, children played in the park after school, teens hung out at the beach, and everyone was living the suburban dream. We were all bunched into the car; me, my brother Spencer, my toddler sister Carol, and my mom and dad, Sabrina and Rhett. We had just moved from Riverview, because a house fire burned down our home. My dad wanted a fresh start.

We pulled up to the small, cozy, 1-story house. It was built out of grey stones, and had a grey roof. There was a space for a garden out front, at which my mother immediately gravitated to.

“Well, the soil will be ok, I guess.” She said, feeling the dirt. Carol gurgled and slapped the dirt. I watched them for a moment, and then looked at the house.

I could have sworn I saw a face looking through the living room window.

I ran inside, and into the living room, but the only thing I saw was some furniture, an old T.V, and an ancient-looking teddy bear.

My brother walked in, and pulled my hair, screaming “BOO!” and running away.

“I’M GONNA TELL MOM!” I shouted, running outside. The face in the window was completely forgotten.

Chapter 1:

After living in Sunset Valley for a few weeks, we were quite settled in. This little girl named Bella Bachelor and I became best friends, and my mom and dad were doing great in their new careers. We were all settled and happy.

It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon, and it was both Carol and Spencer’s birthdays, a fact which Spencer hated, and Carol didn’t care about. All she cared about was cake, and getting gifts. I was a little jealous of the stack of gifts I saw, but I was pretty happy just to be getting some cake.

We were all standing around the birthday cake, with two candles, one pink, one blue, one for Spencer and one for Carol. My dad was just beginning to light the blue candle, when I felt something cold. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. As my parents began to sing “Happy Birthday,” I turned around.

In the corner of the room stood a little ghost girl. She was blue, her hair was in long pigtails, and her dress looked like it was from hundreds of years ago. I screamed and reeled back, bumping into the table, and knocking over the cake. The cake fell to the floor, with the candles lit. My mother screamed “PUT OUT THE CANDLES, RHETT!” as Carol began crying. My father quickly stomped out the candles before they could set fire to the carpet. Spencer began yelling at me.

“You stupid little klutz! You ruined my cake! You’re just jealous I’m going to be older than you!” he shouted at me, as I began crying.

<p style="text-indent: 0.5in">“But, I saw a girl! A ghost girl! Over there!” I said, pointing to the corner where I saw the ghost, but there was nothing there.

<p style="text-indent: 0.5in">“You just want all the attention on my birthday! You ruined my cake! And you’re crazy! Ghosts are only at the graveyard! You’re stupid and crazy!” He kept yelling at me, until my mom came over and told him to stop.

<p style="text-indent: 0.5in">“Hey, Spence? Look!” My dad said, opening the freezer. “We still have ice cream!”

<p style="text-indent: 0.5in">“Good, I guess Irene didn’t mess everything up!” Spencer said, stomping to the kitchen. My mom came up and hugged me.

<p style="text-indent: 0.5in">“Sweetheart, do try to be more careful?” She asked me. I dried my tears and nodded. “Good,” she said smiling. “Do you want chocolate or vanilla ice cream? She asked me.

<p style="text-indent: 0.5in">Everyone forgot, and we just enjoyed the rest of the birthday.

<p style="text-indent: 0.5in">But, for the rest of the time I lived in that house, I never went near that corner.

<h2 style="text-indent: 0.5in">Chapter 2:

<p style="text-indent: 0.5in">A few months after the incident, and a few weeks before my birthday, the true tragedy struck my family. Once Spencer became a teen, he fell in with the wrong crowd, sneaking out at midnight, drag racing, doing drugs, and getting into my parent’s nectar cellar with his new “cooler” friends. Mom and Dad were worried for him, yet to me, it seemed like normal, teenage behavior. Honestly, I was much more preoccupied with my impending birthday party.

<p style="text-indent: 0.5in">One night, as I was finishing my homework, I looked over to Carol. She was sitting in the corner, facing the wall, and whispering into the air. I slowly walked towards her, hardly breathing, to hear what she was saying.

<p style="text-indent: 0.5in">“…You don’t have to follow him!” Carol said desperation evident in her voice. “He’s my brother, you don’t have to kill him! Kill someone else!” She said. A chill went up my spine. Carol gasped. “Behind me?” she said, and quickly turned around, glaring.” What are you doing?!” she yelled at me as she stood up.

<p style="text-indent: 0.5in">“Uh, who were you talking to?” I asked, afraid.

<p style="text-indent: 0.5in">“Uh, Nobody! Duh! What are you even talking about, you creeper. I was doing my homework, before you interrupted me!” Carol said, holding up a work sheet that was obviously never even started. She pushed past me and walked to her room. As she entered she looked back at me.

<p style="text-indent: 0.5in">Her normally dark blue eyes were now a pale, glowing green. “Leave me alone, Irene” she said, sneering. “Leave me alone, if you know what’s good for you. I mean it.” She said, and closed the door. It locked with a quiet click.

<p style="text-indent: 0.5in">I gasped, taking a step back. I tripped over one of Carol’s toys, and I fell backwards, and I screamed as my head struck the edge of the coffee table. As my vision faded, I saw my mother and father run over to me, and Carol’s bedroom door opening slowly.

<h2 style="text-indent: 0.5in">Chapter 3:

<p style="text-indent: 0.5in">I woke up to bright, industrial, sterile white light boring through my eyelids. There was an incessant beeping noise close by. I opened my eyes, squinting into the bright light. I looked around me. I was in a hospital room. In the chairs next to the bed, my mother sat, sobbing quietly into a handkerchief and my father sat, stone-faced. Confused, I said, “Mommy? Daddy? It’s OK, I’m OK now.” I whispered. They looked at me, and Dad stood up. He sat on the edge of the hospital bet, the starchy blanket crinkling underneath him. He reached out, and I leaned forward, so I was wrapped in his arms. <p style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; padding-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in; border-top: medium none; border-right: medium none; padding-top: 0in; mso-border-bottom-alt: wave windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in">“Sweetheart, it’s not you. You're fine. You'll be OK. Spencer…” Dad stopped and took a deep, shuddering breath. “He’s… He’s dead sweetheart.”

<p style="text-indent: 0.5in">Car accident. That’s what killed my teenage brother. He and his friends were drag racing around the back roads of Sunset Valley, swerving into people’s yards and hitting mailboxes, when they lost control. They swerved into the Goth Manor, and crashed in through the living room, where the Goth family was sitting. The car itself exploded, killing both Cornelia and Gunther Goth instantly, and mortally wounding Mortimer Goth. Cornelia and Gunther used their bodies to <span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Calibri','sans-serif'; font-size: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">shield Mortimer, which is how he survived. Spencer and his friends, VJ Alvi and Lisa Bunch, all died instantly, too.

<p style="text-indent: 0.5in">Spencer was the driver.

<p style="text-indent: 0.5in">For two weeks, I refused to eat. I refused to sleep. I was failing school. I couldn’t stop the constant flow of tears. I didn’t speak to anyone, and preferred to spend every moment curled up underneath my brother’s bed, going through each memory of him; some good, some bad; in my head. Even though he was a rebellious hot head, he was still nice to me.

<p style="text-indent: 0.5in">At the funeral, I broke my silence. As they lowered the casket into the ground at Pleasant Rest Graveyard, I panicked.

<p style="text-indent: 0.5in">“''Spencer! Come back''!” I screamed, as my dad pulled me away from his gravestone. “Come back, so I can save you!” I sobbed, and my dad picked me up.

<p style="text-indent: 0.5in">After his death, none of us ever returned to normal, exept Carol, who seemed completely unaffected and even amused at the sight of our parent’s tears.

<p style="text-indent: 0.5in">I came to hate Carol.

<h2 style="text-indent: 0.5in">Chapter 4:

<p style="text-indent: 0.5in">Years passed. My parents began to show their advanced age. I was close to graduating High School, with honors. Carol was only a freshman, and she was failing. My father still worked at the Landgraab Science Facility, and my mom stayed at home and usually tended to her garden. I’d seen my sister converse with herself three times over the years since Spencer’s death. Each time, a major tragedy struck Sunset Valley. First, while I was in the 8th grade, Claire Ursine’s young son, William, fell off of a cliff, near Agnes Crumplebottom’s house. As people began to blame Agnes herself, she was found, hanging in an unfinished baby’s room in her home, with a suicide note, laying out her guilt over seeing the boy play near the cliffs, and not stopping him. I saw my sister smiling to herself throughout his funeral.

<p style="text-indent: 0.5in">Next, when I was a sophomore, the boiler in the school exploded which killed twenty-six people, twenty of whom were children and teens. I knew my sister was the one who was last tasked to fix it, but when I tried to tell my guidance counselor, she told me it was an accident, that the machinery in the boiler room was thirty years outdated. Nobody would listen to me. So, I resigned myself from ever being able to get my sister to suffer the consequences of what she’s doing.

<p style="text-indent: 0.5in">Later, The Goth Manor, after being renovated after the car accident, was burned completely to the ground, killing Mortimer and his pregnant wife, Bella Bachelor, and her elder brother. Carol came home during the wee hours of the morning, smelling of smoke and gasoline. Later the same week, the library burned down, and although I have no proof, I feel Carol caused that one too.

<p style="text-indent: 0.5in">Sunset Valley became known as “cursed” over those years. People moved, businesses closed, and the skies turned permanently grey. There was no end in sight, and Carol relished in the sorrow.