James Trivett 3
Vignette
She watched as Ophelia's scream was cut short by the gun shot. Jessica stood in the hallway, taking in the sight, before she finally fled. As she turned the corner, she kicked off her heels and lifted her dress, gaining speed. She was stuck in the mansion with a murderer on her tail, and all she can think about is how she got herself into this mess.
**********
A few weeks before, Jessica received a mysterious invitation to attend a formal party. Though the inviter was anonymous and the location she had never heard of, she decided to attend. Her father was a well known and well liked politician. It wasn't unusual to attend parties now and then. Plus, the place seemed fancy enough. Instantly, she began planning what to wear and what to bring, which included a golden, fully sequined gown.
At the party, she met some interesting individuals. One was Ophelia, a woman in her mid-fifties. She and Jessica seemed to get along and had a few stimulating conversations. Then a man nearly half her age escorted the woman to the dance floor. Another was a young man named Jimmy Dane, a scrawny, shady, and sickly-looking fellow in a purple suit that didn't quite fit him right, like a kid playing dress-up with his father's clothing. He stood near the refreshments; eyes darting around the room as his hands shook, sloshing his drink everywhere. Jessica made sure to stay out of his way.
**********
Now she was running mindlessly through vast hallways and corridors. Once she reached a window, Jessica tried to open it, but it was locked. Picking up a miniature candelabrum, she attempted to shatter the glass. The candelabrum bounced of with an audible thud and sent her toppling back. Scrambling franticly to her feet, she ran the hallways once more, candelabrum in hand. Though it would only be a short-ranged weapon and useless compared to her enemy's, it gave her comfort. At least she had something.
Jessica searched for a place to hide, but all the doors were closed. Except one. She ran to the door frame and froze. A perverse thought ran through her mind.
"Professor Plum, in the dining room, with the lead pipe."
She ran from the room gagging, leaving the purple clad corpse behind her.
"It's just like the game Clue, except everyone dies." She thought. She avoided all the other open doors and made her way to the foyer, or what appeared to be the foyer.
Jessica ran to the door and jerked the ornate door knob to no avail. She flung herself into the door and began beating on the door uselessly with her candelabrum, crying.
"This isn't a formal party of any kind, and this place is not a mansion. Instead, it is a necropolis, a place of the dead, and I will soon join."
Footsteps sounded behind her and as she turned around, a barrel was pointed to her forehead.
"Please…." She pleaded, her face contorted in agony, stained with tears. Her lips were quivering. "Please…"