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1. The Casket Bride
Michelle, filled with serene anticipation
and a sense of liberation from the confines of Paris, eagerly looked forward to
her new life. Unlike her fellow travelers, who were conscripted for the
journey, she had volunteered willingly, her heart yearning for her intended to find
her soon.
As a guest at a local boarding
house, the women had no choice but to sit in the parlor and wait for their new
husbands to claim them.
“This
heat is awful,” Cherie commented.
“It is so primitive here,” Renee
chimed in.
Michelle didn’t respond. He was
near, and she could feel him. She looked up and locked eyes with a tall, dark-haired
man walking toward her,
“I am Simon Montage, and I seek a
Miss Delacroix.”
Mesmerized, she stood up. He gently took
her hand and kissed the back of it.
“Welcome,
mon chéri,” he said softly.
The journey to his home took about
an hour, and as they traveled, Simon delighted in telling her about his
property. The carriage made a turn down a long, well-kept drive and
revealed a magnificent house nestled among the trees, a sight of serene beauty
that captivated Michelle.
“You’re new home.”
“It
is lovely, and I anticipate spending hours exploring the property.”
“I only have one request. You must
never go out at night. It is not safe; many dangerous predators roam the night.”
She smiled and nodded.
They
entered the house, and he introduced the housekeeper: “Arceneaux, this is
my new bride, Michelle Delacroix.”
The woman glared at Michelle and
mumbled, “Loup-garou.”
“That is enough. She is your new
mistress,” Simon reprimanded.
Arceneaux
looked at Simon and said, “We have prepared a feast for your arrival.
The Priest is waiting in the parlor.”
“We are to be married now?”
“Yes, your room is at the top of the
stairs. Go and freshen up, “he replied. “Tonight, you will be my bride.”
She did as he requested and walked
into the parlor an hour later, wearing a lace collar over her pink silk gown. After
the ceremony and the magnificent feast prepared by Simon’s staff,
Michelle feigned exhaustion and went to bed.
She
hoped Simon did not expect her to fulfill her wifely duties the first night
they were wed. However, when he came to her bed a few hours later, she obliged,
relieved that he departed to his own bed chamber once
he was finished.
When she awoke the following morning,
Simon was gone. To her relief, Arceneaux was nowhere in sight. Michelle made tea
and quickly laced it with the powder she had brought from France. She hoped the
alchemist Marie-Anne de La Ville had created what she needed. Tonight, there
was a full moon; it was almost time. She would know once and for all if the powder
worked.
Simon returned to the house at noon,
and her eyes met his. “I trust you slept well, my dear. Arceneaux has left us,
but you can hire a new housekeeper soon.
And perhaps a nanny, as well. I am very anxious to start a family as
soon as possible.”
“Whatever you wish.” She replied
sweetly.
An hour before sunrise, she awoke to
find that Simon had returned to his room again. Wearing her black cloak, she
slipped quietly from the house into the woods. The black panther within her emerged.
As into the night, she ran, free at last.
Michelle no longer wished to live in
their world, the spell was cast, and she could now remain her true self. Three
months later, she gave birth to two male cubs, and she watched as they grew and
thrived where they belonged in the wild with their own kind.
Simon mourned the disappearance of
his new bride and assumed she had abandoned him. In time, life went on as
usual. Occasionally, Michelle would venture close to the house at
night but never returned to her human self. She didn’t see the gun
that killed her. She felt a searing pain and then darkness.
Simon
went to his grave without knowing he had killed his bride, and the two large
panthers braying into the night were his offspring.
2. Grandma's Thanksgiving Chocolate
Thanksgiving Day, 1962—our annual feast at my Aunt Loretta's home. Eight kids under 8 years old always make it chaotic. Our Thanksgiving is always at my aunt's home because she has the largest and nicest house. This year is extra special because our Grandma Sherrick will join us as our special guest. She spent the night at Aunt Loretta's because she didn't drive, and our dads were busy in front of the black and white console television. She's been sick a lot since Grandpa passed in August, and we hadn't seen her much. We didn't have family get-togethers while Grandpa was alive because he never approved of his daughter's husbands. Our family was never an Ozzie and Harriet or Father Knows Best type of family. We always had a little drama, but there were lots of loving and fun times. And, many funny times. This Thanksgiving would be one of those times for me and, eventually- much later for my sisters and cousins. Our unique family dynamics always made our gatherings special.
My little sister, Teresa, and cousin Debbie, who was close to her age, came outside where the rest of us were playing to stay out of the way of the adults cooking. They laughed, snickered, and taunted us with, "Ha, ha, ha, we got a chocolate candy bar, and you didn't get any." We all knew the Halloween candy had been eaten long ago, and in 1962, Hershey's bars were extremely rare for trick-or-treating in our neighborhood. It was too expensive for anything except the rarest treat- our treats were homemade cake, cookies, and occasional penny candy. We didn't believe them and accused them of fibbing- Momma didn't like us saying the word lying. They had one tiny piece of chocolate left, which my cousin Sarah quickly grabbed, yelling, " I'm telling Momma," as she ran into the heavenly-smelling kitchen via the back door. Of course, we all followed to see their punishment for taking candy without asking. My aunt and Momma saw the candy piece and chuckled; both immediately knew what it was. It was still a mystery candy bar to us, not a Hershey bar. Their question was where and how you got it, how much you ate, and how long ago. A few minutes of questioning and the promise of no spankings revealed their answers. They had snuck into Grandma's room and found the candy on her bedside table. After talking with Grandma and both girls, it was determined it was a full bar with only 3 pieces Grandma had taken. The girls had kept one piece to show and brag to the rest of us about their and theirs alone treat. This left 20 little pieces divided by the two of them.
My aunt and Momma immediately ushered them into the bathroom with a plastic bowl each- we all knew from prior experience about the flu bowls. Aunt Loretta mixed up a nasty-looking and smelling concoction of mustard and water and poured it into two glasses. She headed to the bathroom with the stinky yellow brew and closed the door slightly. She and Momma made them drink it, and we immediately heard the result of their drinking it. Mommas They left the door ajar, so we all learned the consequences of their actions, too. Listening to what was happening in the bathroom was highly unpleasant, and I'm sure it was even more unpleasant for them. Their chocolate coup quickly turned into a nasty, viletasting disaster for them. When we sat down for dinner, all of us kids were quiet for a change- especially the two most boisterous of us six girls. They hardly touched the delicious feast before us and even passed on the chocolate cake with the dark, rich cocoa icing Momma was famous for. They didn't even want the delicious lemon meringue pie Momma prepared.
After dinner and the dishes were done, Momma explained the chocolate bar to all of us and why we should never take or eat things that are not ours, no matter how good or tasty they appear. My cousin and sister both strenuously nodded no when asked if they would ever again eat something that was not theirs or that they found that looked and smelled so tempting. To this day, neither my sisters nor I have indulged in the delicious-looking, chocolatey "candy" known as ExLax.
3. The Wedding
“The invitation said ’plus one’ not ‘plus
weirdo’.” Sara’s voice cracked as she looked over the destruction.
“He’s not weird,” retorted Janice as she
stuck out her lower lip in a weak attempt at a pout. Fact is, she didn’t know
whether or not he was weird. “This isn’t his fault.” She squared her shoulders
and waved her hand over the smoldering landscape.
“This was my dream wedding. A tropical
destination, on a white sand beach, overlooking the ocean at sunset. Instead,
YMCA is playing in the background while flashing lights illuminate firemen
still cleaning up the mess.” Sara laughed manically. “Kind of ironic, isn’t
it.”
Rob wrapped Sara in a bear hug. “All the
guests are accounted for.” He rubbed his thumbs across her wet, soot covered
cheeks. “The constable wants to talk to us if you feel up to it.” Her sobs
turned to uncontrolled shaking as he squeezed her tight against his chest.
Janice looked around until she spotted
Blake. He was talking to one of the deputies. His arms were crossed and she
could tell he was getting pissed by the look in his dark eyes and the thin line
of his lips. “Officer, as I have already told you, it was an accident.”
“Right, right. And how are you related to
the bride and groom?”
Janice reached for his arm attempting to defuse
the tenson growing between the two testosterone filled men. This was the last
thing she needed. She rubbed his shoulder. “Everything alright sweety?” She
felt the tenson start to leave his body.
“Yea, we’re done here, aren’t we deputy?”
“For now. But check back with us before
you fly out tomorrow.”
“Sure thing.” Blake snapped his heels
together and did an exaggerated salute.”
Janice sat down on one of the only chairs
left standing.
“I’m going to take a shower. Give me about
thirty minutes.” Blake walked toward their shared beachside suite.
Janice nodded and stared out at the ocean
recalling the events that led to this.
She received the wedding invitation in the
mail. Janice had no idea her younger sister was getting married. No surprise
really. They weren’t close. Truth is, she was jealous of Sara. She realized at
an early age her parents loved Sara more. Sara could do no wrong. Janice could
do nothing right. When Janice saw it was
a destination wedding, the plan to ruin it started forming in her mind.
First, she ran an ad on Craig’s list.
Male, late twenties, for ‘plus one’ to a destination wedding. No strings
attached. Guaranteed a good time. Janice sifted through several applicants
until she settled on Blake. She told him the plan and he seemed to embrace it.
As long as nobody was physically hurt and nothing was illegal. He didn’t relish
the thought of spending any time in a tropical island jail. She couldn’t blame
him for that. They met at the airport, exchanged pleasantries and settled into
first class to finalize her plan.
Janice researched the venue extensively
and studied all the clues available on the invitation. It included a card to choose a preferred
entre’ for the wedding feast. Of course, not a buffet. Heaven forbid Sara’s
wedding include a buffet. She assumed it
would be under a tent, not in the smaller facilities on site. Before the dinner
began, there was a cocktail hour at the open-air bar, while the wedding party
took pictures. Therefore, there would be fewer people left to possibly get injured.
Janice and Blake enjoyed a few drinks
during the trip and put finishing touches on the plan.
“We need to convince people we are
lovers.” Janice said.
“Not a problem.” Blake rubbed the back of
his hand across her cheek.
Janice felt goosebumps along her arms.
Stay neutral, she told herself. This is a business arrangement, that’s all.
After check-in at the resort, a meet and
greet was scheduled for the evening. Navigating sharing one room, one shower,
and one closet, Janice and Blake arrived late to the mixer. And, of course,
Sara couldn’t help but point it out to everybody. After introductions, which
were cold at best, her grandmother signaled Janice. Janice adored her
grandmother. She understood what Janice had suffered at the hands of her
daughter, Janice’s mother.
“What a handsome young man.”
Blake took her hand and kissed the back of
it and then her palm. “I think he’s a keeper, my dear.”
“Oh grandmama. I believe I am destined to
walk this life alone.”
“You deserve love as much as anybody else
and it’s time you realized that.”
The ceremony was overly obtrusive and
boring. Janice squeezed Blake’s hand, her excitement for the coming attraction
about to boil over. The said their ‘I dos’ and headed to the waiting
photographer.
And then, just like that, her plan went
into motion and it was over in just a few seconds. Like a one-night stand.
Anticipation for the moment far outlasting the actual event.
Blake made sure everybody saw him drinking
too much. Then he stumbled around in a drunken stupor. A bit exaggerated Janice
thought, but he did draw people’s attention. When he ran into the first tiki torch,
they all began falling like dominos into the tent. It didn’t take long for the
burning tent to collapse onto the tablecloths draping each table. It was all over
in a few minutes.
Just like her and Blake or maybe . . .
4. The Annual Halloween Mystery Feast
The Annual Halloween Mystery Feast It was the kind of night when creeping fog rolled in like a shroud, draping over Elm Street, making the flickering street lamps look like ghosts in the night. Olivia exited her car, looking at the old Victorian house. In her hand, she clutched the delicate invitation written in ornate calligraphy proclaiming: "You are cordially invited to be our guest the Annual Halloween Mystery Feast – Join us for a night of ghoulish delights and thrilling deadly secrets! Costume required."
Every October, the invitations arrived, and every year, Olivia's heart raced with anticipation. She had always begged her best friend, Clara, to get her an invite, but there was always some excuse. However, this year, Clara had finally relented and she was finally here at The Lavelle Mansion.
Dressed as a classic witch, with a flowing black dress and a conical hat adorned with shimmering stars, Olivia made her way up the front walk. She could see the glow of orange lights spilling out of the open foyer and heard the whisper of conversations and laughter floating on the wind.
She presented her invitation to the ghoul at the door and entered. A grand hall greeted her, with vaulted ceilings draped in cobwebs and candles flickering on every table. Eagerly, Olivia scanned the crowd for Clara. She spotted her near the punch bowl dressed as Cleopatra. She was talking with a mysterious figure dressed as a raven, complete with feathers and a beak-shaped mask.
"Olivia! You made it!" Clara exclaimed, rushing over giving her in a hug. "I was worried you’d get lost in that fog!"
"I wouldn’t miss this for the world!" Olivia said, her excitement growing. They fell into chatter, commenting on costumes and swapping theories on the night's activities.
As the clock struck seven, guests found their assigned seats at a long, elaborately set table. A slick-haired man dressed as a very realistic Dracula, took center stage, his voice booming. "Welcome, my dear friends, to my Annual Halloween Mystery Feast! Brace yourselves for a night of deception and deadly surprises!"
Olivia felt a rush of adrenaline. This was it—the night of thrills! What would come next? The host motioned a servant to bring out the first course, a bubbling cauldron soup that sent up wisps of steam, making it look like an actual potion. Soon, conversation and laughter echoed around the room as they ate.
Then the meal took a turn, the unexpected happened. The lights flickered then plunged the room into darkness. A communal gasp could be heard around the room then sheer silence.
After a long moment, the lights returned, but something felt off. Instead of amusing banter, Olivia saw a figure on the floor.
"Call 911!" someone shrieked, and a chaotic wave of panic surged through the guests.
Olivia pushed through the crowd, where she found Clara crouched next to their mutual friend, Derek, who lay motionless, his raven costume spread around him. The room full rising tension.
“Is he…?” Olivia’s voice trembled.
Clara shook her head, her face pale. “He was fine a moment ago. Someone must have poisoned him!”
Gasps filled the hall and mass confusion reigned; the cauldron soup had been served to everyone. Voices rose over one another, as accusations flared and fingers pointed.
“It must be the host! He did this!” shouted a woman dressed as a flapper, waving an accusatory finger.
“No, it was Clara! She’s been dating him!” another guest replied, eyes glinting with suspicion.
Olivia felt panic ripple through her. How could she help? She was desperate for answers and convinced something was amiss.
All of a sudden Olivia saw an embroidered handkerchief pinned beneath Derek’s body. As she reached down, she noticed a familiar insignia glinting back at her. It was Clara’s!
Time froze. The night that was meant to be filled with festivities had turned sinister.
“Clara… Why is this here?” Olivia asked, her voice low but trembling.
Before Clara could respond, whispers erupted as all eyes were on the two friends. They were caught in the web of mystery and deceit.
The realization hit Olivia hard—this was no ordinary Halloween dinner. It was a game of survival, just as the invitation had hinted at and Clara, her best friend, was somehow in the middle of it all.
As sirens echoed in the distance, Olivia knew they needed to unravel the truth before it consumed them, or risk losing everything they held dear in the darkness of that haunted night.
5. The Dinner
“Are you sure you are a guest? I don’t find your name on my list.” The
man towered over Sarah. She had to take a step back to be able to see his
entire face.
“Mr. Donaldson
invited me himself.”
“If you are telling the truth, where is your costume? Mr. Donaldson was explicit about a costume.”
“Fine,” Sarah said, as she turned to leave’ someone behind
her said.
“James, she is my
guest. Let her pass.”
James made a big deal of lowering his arm in a wide arc of
welcome. His face and his movements didn’t match. The look of distain he gave
her would stay with her for a long time.
Michael Donaldson, tall, tan, rich and single came to the
coffee shop where Sarah was a barista.
When the man stopped her at the door, Sarah was sure his
invitation had not been sincere. After all, why would he, a rich executive,
pick her instead of one of the beautiful women he had on his arm when he came
for coffee?
Michael put his hand lightly on her waist and said, “Come
with me.” He guided her toward a set of double doors. They stretched from floor
to ceiling. They were ornately carved with tropical trees. Sarah thought them
out of place in the cold winter in Wyoming.
He opened the doors. Inside a long table filled three
fourths of the room. She counted twelve place settings on both sides. Dishes
were full of ham, sweet potatoes, green beans, breads, dressing, duck and
several items she couldn’t identify
“Where are your guests?” she asked. A lump of nerves began
to form in her stomach. She wasn’t sure if it was going to go down or escape up
and out. She’d never been so afraid.
She looked back at the table. In her twenty-nine years,
she’d only seen a feast such as the one in front of her in magazines.
“Where are the rest of your guests? And why don’t you have on a costume?”
“My dear Sarah, I am in costume. I’m dressed as a young,
good-looking man who loves everyone. In reality,” he reached up and took off
what looked like his skin. It wasn’t. He dropped the mask on the floor.
Sarah put both hands in front of her face to avoid looking
at the man. His facial features looked as though they’d been burned off. The
face in front of her didn’t have eye brows, a nose or its left ear. What identifiable
features on his face were like looking at hamburger shaped into a man’s face.
Sarah looked toward the doors behind her. They remained
open. She looked back at him. She tried to keep her eyes focused on a spot
slightly above his head so he would think she had her eyes on him.
Her plan was to back up to the open doors, turn and
run as fast as she could to her car and out of the nightmare she seemed to be
having.
Before she could execute her plan, he lunged toward her and
grabbed her arms. “I insist you have dinner with me. I love to cook. I made
each of these dishes myself.
“Then may I leave?”
“Of course , my dear, I wouldn’t think of hindering your
ability to leave.”
We sat and the big man, James, came into the room with a
bottle of white wine. He poured a glass for me and one for Michael.
After James left the room, Michael took a sip of his wine.
Sarah tried but her hand shook too bad to hold the gless.
“Let’s begin with this lovely soup” He took the lid off and
eyes stared at Sarah. She began to wretch.
“Tell me those are not real.”
“Of course they are real.?
He pointed to a blue eye. “Betty, the green eyes are Jane
and Demi. Should I go on.”
“Those are the names of the missing girls from the area.
Don’t tell me you killed them,”
“We all have to eat,” he said, “I prefer red heads. Most
people have not allowed themselves the taste the vast favors of the human body.
Sarah felt herself begin to slide out of the chair.
A voice asked, “What shall I do with her?”
Michael answered, “Hang her in the freezer, bleed her first.
Otherwise she’ll be tough. By the way, you were hard on her when she got here.
We don’t want to scare them off. The lovely lady from the pharmacy will be here
in two weeks. Try to be a little kinder to them.
6.
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