The Key In The Fireplace

Part 4: The Death Of Headley Jones

Headley Jones did not believe in ghosts. Which only amplified her confusion upon seeing the transparent image of her dearly departed great great great grandmother at the foot of her bed that night. Headley wasnt sure why she was seeing this or why she was awake. After a moment of deduction she had came to the conclusion that she was in fact still asleep. The best dreams are best when they are not fiddled with. Headley heard that somewhere and chose to apply it here. She did how ever get up and play along with the strange hallucination.

Miss Porting beckoned to Headley. An old wrinkled finger extended, then proceeded to curl up in a gesture commonly used to express ones desire to be followed. Headley did just that. She began down the stairs after Miss Porting until eventually stopping at the old, cold, dusty, fireplace. Inside, hanging from a string dangling out of the chimney, was a golden key in the shape of a heart. Headley reached as her great great great grandmother suddenly swooped in between her and the fireplace. Annoyed at whatever game the specter was getting at she swished her hand in the same manner one would use to clear away smoke. Upon grabbing the key, a blaze of fire arose and her suspicions were confirmed.

Headley awoke from her aching slumber on the cold hard bed. How she managed to get any sleep at all was the real mystery. But nevermind that, she was starving. It was quite late in the morning, almost noon in fact. But not late enough to enjoy a small breakfast. Headley made her way downstairs but before making it to the kitchen something shimmery caught her glance.

Some of you may have a keen eye for important plot devices and by extension it would be safe to assume that the next peice of this story has Headley reaching for the key mysteriously dangling in the fireplace much like in her dream before. What you might not have assumed however, was that unlike most protagonists in many cautionary tales, Headley had learned from her mistakes. She grabbed a nearby fire poker and wrapped it around the key to pull out towards her ever so delicately. Far more delicate than the boot of the unknown attacker that shoved at Headleys back, forcing her into the fireplace before a lit match was thrown in after. There are many advantages to living in a big house alone. More space, peace and quite, the ability to wander the halls free of clothing. But there is one major disadvantage. When you are shoved into a firey death, nobody can hear your screams.

Thus, the Dreary house was left uninhabited. Unless of course, you considered the ashes of Headley Jones as an inhabitant. The Killer left behind no trace. And with no clear motive nobody could possibly know who had done this. Not even Headley Jones...

... But, one way or another, She was going to find out.