The Wages of Sin

Five people sat at a table in a dilapidated mansion in the Colorado Rockies. They had all been invited there by the same person, and none of them knew why the others were there. The French maid, Phoebe, served them a three course meal. They were just finishing dessert when Jamie Collins felt a tickle in his throat. He tried drinking some water to wash down any stuck particles of food. He felt his throat tighten, and he gasped for his last breath. The others stared in shock as Jamie fell out of his chair, and hit the floor with a sickening thud.

“Jamie!” Jillian Collins exclaimed. She moved from her chair, and dropped to her knees by Jamie’s body.

Monica Michaels was down beside her in a flash. She rolled Jamie onto his back, and checked his neck and wrist for a pulse. She looked up at the others, in horror. “He’s dead!”

“No!” Jillian argued around the lump in her throat. She made a futile attempt at CPR. “Come on, Jamie, breath!”

“Jill stop!” Monica grabbed her and pulled her away. “There’s nothing we can do for him!”

“I don’t believe you!” Jillian exclaimed. She struggled against Monica’s arms, and managed to break free only to be caught by Michael Lancing. He pulled her against him, and held her as she broke down in tears.

“And then there were four,” a jeering metallic voice filled the room causing everyone to glance around to see who was speaking. “Oh, you can’t see me, but I can see you.”

Jillian’s fury was rekindled, and she broke away from Michael. “Show yourself you coward!”

“All in good time my pretty,” the wicked laugh echoed through the room. “You all know why you’re here. I’ve been blackmailing each of you for the past five years, and I’m bored with that. So, we’re going to play a little game. If you would all please resume your seats I’ll explain the rules.”

They all moved back to their seats. Jillian glanced between her seat, Jamie’s empty seat, and his lifeless body on the floor. She moved her chair to the opposite end of the table, which put her beside Aaron Michaels. She sat; keeping her eyes on the table.

“I am located somewhere in this mansion,” the voice informed them. “You will have the next twenty-four hours to find me. If you do I will give you all of the money I have extorted from you. If you don’t all of those lovely little secrets I’ve been holding onto will be plastered all over the internet. If only one of you finds me, that person will get all of the money. Good luck.”

Michael stared down at the table, and noticed his placemat looked like a portion of the game Clue. The rooms on his placemat were labeled lounge and dining room. He drew Monica and Jamie’s place-mats closer to his. Jamie’s contained the entry hall and the study. Monica’s contained the kitchen and the ballroom. He noticed something on Jillian’s place-mat, but couldn’t see it from where he sat. He collected the place-mats, and moved to kneel on the floor, laying out the place-mats to form the widely accepted Clue game board.

“I think I’ve got something,” he announced. The other three joined him on the floor to examine the map he constructed. “Okay, before we continue, we should know who and what we’re dealing with.”

“Why are we being blackmail?” Aaron asserted.

“Someone is using photographic evidence of my extracurricular activities with my students to blackmail me.” Michael admitted.

“Someone, besides Aaron, and I, knows that Ashley is his child,” Monica admitted.

“I’m here for the same reason as her,” Aaron said.

“Someone has video evidence of some of the stuff I did with others while Mike and I were dating,” Jillian admitted.

“And Jamie?” Michael pressed.

“Why does that matter?” Jillian protested, trying to keep the whimper out of her voice. When they all stared at her she took a breath, “Whoever it is, knows Jamie hasn’t had his gender reassignment surgery.”

“Okay,” Michael rubbed Jillian’s shoulder to comfort her. “Who do we know who knows all of these things?”

“A lot of people,” Jillian admitted, “but I only know of one other person who knows about Ashley’s paternity, Marcus Anderson, but he doesn’t know about Jamie.”

“He also doesn’t have any motive that I’m aware of,” Michael added.

“Doesn’t he?” Aaron inquired. “He hates me for the way I treated Monica, and he’s probably got an ax to grind against Mike because Jill chose you over him.”

“Well, if we’re going to go by that,” Michael looked at Aaron. “You have as much motive as he does.”

“And you have as much motive as I,” Aaron accused. “Plus, you have extra motive to want Jamie dead since Jill ended up with him.”

“Let’s each take a piece of this map, and check the rooms on it,” Jillian suggested. “Maybe he or she is foolish enough to be sitting out in the open.”

“Wait,” Michael grabbed her arm as she stood. “We shouldn’t do this alone.”

"Fine,” Jillian pulled her arm from his grip. “Then Monica and I will go together, and you and Aaron can work together.”

Monica stood taking her place-mat. The women left the men to their devices. Michael examined the two remaining place-mats. He laid his hand on the place-mat containing the entry hall and the study; drawing it toward him. Aaron nodded in silent agreement, and drew the remaining place-mat toward him. The two men left the dining room through opposite doorways.

Jillian and Monica checked the lounge; dining room; kitchen; and finally the ball room. When they reach the center of the room the lights went out, the sound of thunder filled the room, and lightning flashed. Jillian couldn’t see anything; she spun to try to get a view of the entire room, and came face to face with the glowing-in-the-dark Ghost Face mask. The person in the mask held Monica by the shoulders from behind, and made a quick gesture with its right arm; drawing the sharp blade of a knife across her jugular. A spray of red sticky blood hit Jillian’s chest. Monica’s killer charged at Jillian next. She was paralyzed with fear, but she was merely knocked down, and her fingers were forcibly curled around something.

Michael was in the study when the lights went out. He grabbed the closest thing at hand to use as a weapon. A few moments later the lights came back on, and he found himself holding Phoebe’s arm in his hand. She looked at him in terror.

“Don’t hurt me please!” She cried in a heavy French accent.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he assured her.

“That’s two down!” The mysterious voice announced. “You all might want to join Ms. Collins in the ballroom.”

Still holding Phoebe’s arm, Michael tore through the house, and entered the ballroom to the horrific sight of Monica in a puddle of blood, and Jillian standing over her covered in blood holding a bloody knife in her hand. He released Phoebe, and moved to Jillian.

“What happened?” He whispered.

“Ghost Face slit her throat,” Jillian gasped. “The blood sprayed me, and he came at me.”

“You are not dead,” Phoebe asserted.

“No,” Jillian agreed. “He put the knife in my hand and he was gone when the lights came on.”

“What makes you think it is a man?” Phoebe asked.

“He was pretty tall,” Jillian admitted. Her right hand un-clenched, and the bloody knife clattered to the floor.

“Oh! My! God!” Aaron’s anguished cry broke the silence. He rushed into the room, and knelt beside Monica; glancing up at Jillian. “You’re covered in blood!”

“Yes,” Jillian nodded.

“She was the mother of my child!” Aaron exclaimed. “How could you Jillian!”

“I didn’t!” Jillian exclaimed. “This is something you’d be more likely to do!”

“Enough!” Michael exclaimed. “I didn’t find any indication that our host is in the entry hall or the study.”

“We didn’t find him in the lounge, the dining room, or the kitchen,” Jillian offered.

They searched the ballroom, and then made their way to the library, and the billiard room. The group stopped between the two rooms.

“Jillian why don’t you and Phoebe…” Michael began.

“I am not going with a killer!” Phoebe protested.

“I’m not a killer!” Jillian shot back.

“You are covered in blood!” Phoebe argued. She turned sorrowful eyes on Michael. “I’d rather go with you.”

“Alright,” Michael agreed.

“Wait!” Jillian exclaimed. “She could be the killer!”

“How dare you accuse me!” Phoebe exclaimed.

“You served us the food, and this is your boss’s house!” Jillian accused.

“All valid points,” Mike agreed, “but she was in the study with me when Monica was killed.”

“And besides you said Ghost Face was a man,” Phoebe reminded her. With that she flounced toward the library. Michael regarded Jillian, and then followed Phoebe.

“Guess it’s just you and me,” Aaron offered. When Jillian shivered he removed his jacket, and put it over her shoulders, rubbing them reassuringly.

Jillian stepped away from him, and headed into the billiard room. She did not check to see if he had followed her in, but began checking the room. The house went dark, the thunder filled the rooms, and the lightning flashed. Jillian stumbled toward an exit; into the hall to find Ghost Face holding a knife to Phoebe’s throat. Without thinking Jillian lunged forward just as he slit Phoebe’s throat; bathing Jillian in a fresh spray of blood. The special effects wore off before Ghost Face made his escape. Michael entered the hall to a horrific scene similar to that in the ballroom.

“Jillian run!” He threw himself at Ghost Face. They struggled, but Ghost Face got the upper hand. He pulled Michael in front of him, and slit his throat as he had the others; adding to Jillian’s blood soaked clothing.

Jillian’s flight instinct took over, and she ran. She did not know where she was going, all she knew was to get away. She reached the conservatory, and dashed to the back of the room; where she found a hallowed spot in the wall covered by wood paneling. She threw her body against it; crashing through into a hidden room, which contained a table covered with all sorts of control boards; behind the table stood a leather chair with its back to her. Jillian risked a look over her shoulder to see if Ghost Face was behind her; he was not. She turned her head back to find him seated in the leather chair; giving her a slow applause. He held a voice changer up in front of the gaping mouth of the mask.

“Congratulations Ms. Collins,” he stood and moved around the table toward her brandishing the blood covered blade in his gloved right hand. “You’re the only one left.”

Jillian backed away from him into wood paneling. He closed the distance jamming the knife into the paneling beside her head. He tossed aside the voice changer, and pulled off the mask to reveal the cold calculating blue eyes of Aaron Michaels.

“But it looks like I’m the winner,” Aaron mused.

He gripped Jillian’s face in his hands, and took her mouth in a hard possessive kiss. As he kissed her he squeezed a capsule between his teeth; filling both of their mouths with a burning liquid. The two of them fell to the floor; Jillian sprawled beneath him so that he lay between her legs. As Aaron’s heart stopped, a signal was sent to an incendiary device rigged to the foundation; which consumed the mansion in a ball of flames.

Word Count: 1,954