And Then There Were None Alternate Ending

Chapter 19

 Vera walked towards the house. It really was more of a mansion, she obsessed. The beautiful stone walls stretched so wonderfully high, and vines followed them, wrapping and twisting along as they went. She admired them for a moment, her fingers grazing over them, tracing along with the lower loops and twirls. It reminded her of her writing style; all those loopy and twirly letters protruding from her pen. She took great pride in her penmanship. It matched her overall appearance quite nicely, all cute and seemingly innocent. Her fingers felt along with the stones and found the door handle, so she twisted it open and walked inside. The entrance was all gold chandeliers and ruby coloured cloth on everything. She followed her gaze on with the room and found yet another door, a few meters from the first. Vera suddenly felt very tired. This all felt like some strange dream. Part of her almost hoped it was, and that she would soon wake up in a bed somewhere, possibly in Hugo's strong arms.

She walked towards the new doors and lazily threw them open. It was only a drawing room, but to Vera, it was beautiful. She grinned almost drunkenly and dragged herself inside. There was something in one of the far corners of the room... a rope hung from the ceiling, she thought, vaguely mystified. But she could well and could be mistaken... her vision felt hazy and a tad blurred. She got closer to it, and yes, indeed it was a rope. Tied into the shape of a noose.

Vera pictured herself gasping; one would usually gasp if they had found themselves face to face with such an object, would they not? Then again, one would usually hesitate when murdering another...

She thought of Lombard. Of Blore. She thought of Dr. Armstrong and Justice Wargrave. And of Emily Brent, Mr. Rogers, old General MacArthur, Mrs. Ethel Rogers, and Anthony Marston. And of Cyril. But mostly, she thought of Hugo. Beautiful, wonderful, kind Hugo. Hugo who she loved. Hugo who loved her. Or so she thought. Oh, how tired she felt... and oh, how her whole body ached... cleansing the world of such awful creatures was work. Yes, certainly work. But now she could be with Hugo! With her Hugo. She blushed suddenly, girlishly, and looked down at herself. The dress she had picked out this morning suited her quite nicely. The blue went well with her hair and her eyes. If she was to die, she thought, she should like to be buried in this dress. Wouldn't that be quaint?

Vera stroked the fabric of the dress with her hands and her gaze drifted back to the noose. She began to wonder how it got there. Had someone figured out her plan? Or... was it possible that she had set up the noose? There was even a cute little chair under it, perfect for kicking away! But she didn't want to die... not yet, at least... still, she was so very tired...

Her eyes felt heavy and glossy. And she would swear she felt a hand... (was it Hugo's hand?) on hers, helping her onto the chair... (and was she really killing herself, because she could have sworn that it was not her who secured the noose securely around her neck?) she wasn't sure about anything anymore, but she felt safe. She felt so, so safe in this house, here, with this rope around her neck, and she felt so, so safe now, feeling the chair fall away from beneath her feet... it would all be okay. Here, she would remain. Safe. Unharmed. 

THE END.