“Frankly, Scarlet—”

“Bite me, Cyril.” She cut him off mid sentence, striding out of his den with the kind of slink she’d perfected and patented. There were two reasons for her presence in the mansion that night, and neither was the reason he believed.

The library was too stuffy for a breath of fresh air, so she lit a cigarette. The sweet nicotine only added to a thousand different kinds of tobacco that already permeated the books and well worn furniture.

Hearing the distinctive click of the doors not only closing, but locking, she thought quickly, while maintaining her maneater persona.

She selected a rather large and somewhat phallic candlestick from the mantle, stroking it suggestively while shifting her hips just so. She heard the distinctive metallic scrape of his zipper, but she didn’t turn around until she heard his breath reach that state where he was rasping with eagerness.

She turned around to see her former lover, bug-eyed, tongue almost lolling out of his mouth, his grotesque penis flopped casually on the marble table.

She smiled sweetly before swinging high and bringing the full force of the heavy candlestick down on his erection.

With one more well placed blow, she smashed his brains into the Aubusson rug.

The rain was in her favor. She’d left her car stuck in the mud a hundred yards from the gate. She slipped out through the secret passage and out into the rain to wait for the first of the dinner party guests to find and rescue her so they could arrive at the mansion together.

This was written for the Write on Edge prompt to use the words “candlestick”, “scarlet”, and “library”, inspired by one of my favorite movies (and games) Clue: The Movie.

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