They were led into a room—pushed and
prodded whenever they hesitated. In the room was a circle of chairs—six chairs.
Seven people.
“Let’s play a game.” Atticus’s voice
was eerily cheerful. He closed the door behind them and clapped his hands like
a little boy. “Musical death!” he giggled. “All around the mulberry bush—and
the first one out is the first to die!”
The music began. Children’s voices,
enthusiastically singing: “All around the
mulberry bush, the monkey chased the weasel.”
Around and around they went, shuffling slowly,
casting their eyes about at one another as if to say is this really happening?
“Faster!” Atticus cackled.
“The
monkey thought that all was fun….”
Looks were exchanged around the
circle. Tears slid down one woman’s face. Another clutched the hand of her
husband. One man looked pleadingly around at the others in the room, begging
for a solution. One stared fixedly ahead.
“Pop!
goes the weasel.”
The music stopped.
No one sat.
♥/Kat!e
Today's Novel Idea Prompted by: "Musical Death" courtesy of Dragon Writing Prompts.
1 comment:
Seriously, you had to stop there?!
I like that no one sat. Although it seems too simple, I always thought in situations like this there would be no power left to the villain if everyone didn't play along; but that seems to require too much trust and selflessness among people usually bent on self-preservation...
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