A Halloween Mystery
By Jayla Jones
A Halloween Mystery
By Third Year Audrey Hamm
See Buttons for 3 Alternative Endings!
Stella Cooper always dressed rather fancy on Saturday evenings, attending the most extravagant and lavish parties in the Upper West Side among the kings and queens of Manhattan. The people always looked distinguished, the venues always decked in glamor, and the cocktails always too strong for the mysterious lady in red. But on Halloween night, 1964, the circumstances of the gathering at the haunted estate uptown called for an unexpected surprise.
Imagine this: a dimly-lit ballroom with cobwebs at the ceiling corners. Jack-o’-lanterns of all shapes and sizes around the room, and a smoke machine by the staircase giving guests the chance to arrive seemingly out of thin air. The scents of cinnamon and nutmeg linger in the air as guests chat among themselves as usual about vacationing and out-of-control children, when the chandeliers from above flicker. A ghastly scream follows.
Everyone turns their head to understand what has happened, as eyes draw towards a blank wall in the ballroom, where a famous portrait of a violinist once hung, the space now impossibly empty.
Darcy and Evan Miller, the hosts of the party and owners of the estate, are drawn aback by the sudden turn of events. Mrs. Miller nearly faints at the thought of the portrait being gone forever, as it’s long-been a family heirloom of hers that she so generously sold to her new in-laws. The Millers, a long-line of prominent professionals and well-known figures, humbly welcomed Darcy Miller (formerly Darcy Jackson) into their family (at least that’s what she thought).
“Who has taken my most righteous attribute,” she exclaims. She turns and whispers to her husband, “I have no reason to trust these people. How come we have invited so many into our beloved home?”
“Monster Mash” fades into the background as people begin chatting and conspiring. The strobe lights serve to accompany the scanning eyes around the room, looking for traces of guilt and mischief.
One guest that happened to be in the room tonight was Detective Williams. A stubborn young man from Brooklyn, Williams creeps around the room to catch these flying accusations.
“Who could have done such a thing? I just wanted to have a fun night,” an old woman wailed.
“I’d bet this was her own doing, a simple party trick to get points towards their gatherings. Well I’m not falling for it,” an annoyed attorney said boastly.
“Let’s be honest, that portrait wasn’t worth the price anyways,” a jealous guest grimaced.
Detective Williams is puzzled; he walks back to the stage where the band is playing and trying to distract the audience with music. Just as the guitar riffs were ringing in his ears and he takes his last sip of his drink, he spots something.