The locket

The Locket

“Lilly? Where did this box come from?” Grace asked her secretary one cold December morning shortly before Christmas.  There was a small box wrapped in colorful Christmas paper on her desk.

“I don’t know. It was there when I got here,” Lilly answered. 

Grace examined the box; there was no card or to/from label on it.  She opened it and inside was a beautiful silver locket.  On the inside of the box was a folded slip of paper that read,

                             Let’s bury the hatchet.  Please accept this locket as an olive branch.  Merry Christmas!

                                       Yours,

                                       Jackie Maine

“Well, that was certainly nice of her,” Grace said as she put the locket on.  Jackie was an co-worker with whom she had been having a lot of problems with lately.  They worked at advertising agency, so naturally there were creative differences.  Not arguments so much, but general disagreements about how things should be done and ideas for campaigns.  Grace and Jackie had both gone to their boss with different ideas for how a book tour should be handled and the boss had sided with Grace.  Jackie was furious about that, but seemed to have calmed down.

         “It looks nice on you,” Lily said.

         “Thanks,” Grace smiled.

Around lunchtime, Grace noticed something.  The chain of the necklace seemed to have gotten shorter.  She brushed it off as her imagination.  But when she looked at herself in the ladies room around three that afternoon, there was no denying it: the necklace was shortening.

         “See you tomorrow,” Lilly called at five that afternoon.  “Don’t stay to late, the roads look like they are getting bad.”

         “I won’t be too much longer,” Grace  said, looking up from the paper she was studying.  “I’ll leave before it gets dark.”

         About ten minutes after Lily left, the locket made a steady progression to Grace’s throat at a rate if half an inch per minute.  Soon she was having a hard time breathing.  She tried to take it off but couldn't find the clasp.  A minute later, the heart was leaving an impression on her throat, leaving her gasping for air.  She knocked things off her desk, hoping someone would hear, but everyone had left early due to the storm.  The locket had a death grip on her throat. Grace saw spots, then blacked out.  The locket remained on her throat until her lungs stopped drawing in air.

         Lilly found Grace’s body the next day,  screamed, and called the police.  Pandemonium ensued: no work got done that day; the office was a crime scene.  The locket had returned to it's normal place.

         Later that night, Lilly met Jackie Maine at a bar for a drink.

         “The witch is dead!” Lilly said to Jackie as they clinked glasses.  “Thanks for writing that note; made her so trusting.”

         “My pleasure,” Jackie laughed.  “Besides, you deserve most of the credit.  Your acting deserves an Oscar!”

         “Aww, thanks!” Lilly beamed.  “That arrogant bitch had been driving me crazy for months, the way the bosses always sided with her was getting to her head. It was disgusting.  So when I found that locket, I couldn't resist.  After all, why have a demonic locket if you can’t use it for some good?”

         “Getting rid of her was definitely good,” Jackie agreed.  “Now other people’s ideas will get a chance!”

         They clinked glasses once more in celebration.