A Christmas Mystery by Klutzycutie

Story by: klutzycutie (Enjoy!)

It was Christmas Eve, and the snow had been falling for hours, coating the thick pine trees of the forest in a white blanket. A car’s headlights pierced through the darkness as it made its way down the long, winding road to the grand, old mansion. The place, hidden deep in the woods, seemed like a relic from a bygone era, its towering turrets and ivy-clad stone walls making it both majestic and foreboding.

Inside, a crackling fire flickered in the hearth of a lavishly decorated drawing room. Red and gold baubles hung from the ceiling, and a towering Christmas tree filled one corner of the room, its twinkling lights reflecting off crystal chandeliers above. A long table was set for dinner, but the elegant place settings had yet to be touched.

The guests had arrived, each of them holding a mysterious invitation that arrived in the mail weeks before. The sender was an old friend, someone they hadn't seen in years: *Edward Warren*, a name that brought memories of laughter and late-night talks, but also an air of mystery. They had all known him at different times in their lives—some had been schoolmates, others colleagues, and a few were distant relatives. None of them had heard from him in ages, and yet, here they were, drawn by an unspoken pull to this isolated mansion.

**The Guests:**

1. **Veronica Delaney** – A glamorous movie star, once famous but now faded from the spotlight. She had a reputation for charm and a taste for drama.

2. **Oliver Grant** – A brooding and somewhat secretive author, whose best-selling thrillers had gained him fame, but also suspicion about the darker corners of his own life.

3. **Clara Stevens** – A sharp-witted lawyer, known for her intelligence and poise. She was always the calm in a storm, but her cool exterior hid a fierce ambition.

4. **Felix Montgomery** – A charismatic but reckless investment banker. His smile was his weapon, but his decisions often left a trail of destruction.

5. **Edith Warren** – Edward’s estranged wife, a quiet, reserved woman who had never fully recovered from their troubled marriage.

6. **Reginald Hill** – A wealthy philanthropist with connections to both old money and political circles. He was known for his larger-than-life personality and a habit of making enemies.

7. **Dr. Eleanor Blackwood** – A psychologist, calm and insightful, she had a habit of reading people—sometimes too well for their comfort.

As the evening drew on, the group gathered by the fire, sipping on drinks and chatting, albeit with a noticeable undercurrent of unease. No one could quite shake the oddness of the invitation. A simple card, signed only with Edward’s initials, had arrived with a cryptic message:

_"You are all invited to a Christmas gathering at the old manor. Come to celebrate the past, but be prepared to confront the future. A revelation awaits. See you soon, Edward."_

Before they could delve too deeply into speculation, the door to the drawing room creaked open, and there stood Edward Warren, as if he had stepped out of the shadows of the past.

"Good evening, my friends," Edward said, his voice warm but carrying an edge. "I’m so glad you could all make it. The night holds many surprises."

The guests exchanged wary glances. It had been so long since any of them had seen Edward, and he seemed…different. There was something cold in his eyes now, an unsettling presence that sent a chill down their spines. But before anyone could ask questions, he raised a hand.

"Before we proceed, I must ask that you stay inside the house tonight. There’s a storm brewing outside, and it would be dangerous to venture out," Edward explained. "But fear not, we will enjoy a beautiful Christmas dinner together and catch up. I have…a surprise for all of you."

With that, he motioned for the group to follow him to the dining room.

---

As the night wore on, the party grew livelier. Laughter and chatter echoed in the hallways as plates of food were cleared away. Yet, there was a palpable tension in the air, as if each person was waiting for something to happen. And then, at the stroke of midnight, it did.

A scream shattered the calm of the night.

The guests rushed to the source of the cry—Edward’s study. There, they found Edward lying on the floor, a pool of blood around him. His eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, his hand clutching a bloody letter opener.

"He's dead!" Veronica screamed, her hands trembling.

But then… a second scream.

It was from Edith Warren.

She collapsed beside Edward’s body, her face pale. But it wasn’t just fear she was showing—it was something else. Her hands were covered in blood. 

"He’s gone, isn’t he?" Edith whispered, her voice breaking. "I never wanted this. I didn’t…"

The guests were paralyzed with shock. Had Edith murdered her husband? But before anyone could react, the lights flickered and went out. The storm outside raged harder, and the house was plunged into darkness. 

---

The next morning, the mansion felt like a tomb. The guests had all gathered in the parlor, still in disbelief over what had transpired. But then something strange happened. 

Clara Stevens, the lawyer, stepped forward, her face hard and determined. “We need to get to the bottom of this. I’ve called the authorities, but there’s no way they’ll reach us in time. We must investigate ourselves.”

Everyone nodded, though there was a lingering fear in their eyes.

And then… they heard a knock at the door.

It wasn’t the police. It was Edward. *Alive.*

"Surprised to see me, I imagine," Edward said with a smirk, his clothes unruffled. His face bore no signs of injury, but there was something about him that felt off. The bloodied body on the floor… had it been a ruse?

Edward continued, "I trust you’ve all been very *good* little detectives overnight. But you haven’t figured it out yet, have you?"

The guests were in shock, unable to comprehend what had happened.

"I faked my death," Edward confessed, "to see who would reveal their true nature. Who among you would be willing to kill—or hide a dark secret."

The room was silent as the group realized the truth.

Edward had orchestrated the entire thing—a twisted game of psychological manipulation. But the real shock came when Edith spoke.

“I never killed him," she said, her voice trembling. "I couldn’t… but I knew about the plan. I was in on it with him all along. He made me part of his game."

The twist—**the murder had never happened.** Edward had staged his own death to unmask the guests’ deepest secrets. 

And the final revelation? Edward had set it up so well, even the detective had been fooled.

The Christmas party was a game—one that no one would forget.

---

As the storm cleared and the sun began to rise, the guests were left to grapple with the twisted truth of that Christmas night. None of them would ever be the same again.

But the greatest twist of all? Edward Warren had left one final message behind: *“I never said it was over. The game continues.”*