The candlelight flickered along the anxious faces of the small group seated around the velvet-covered table.”Join hands, everyone,” Aloiysha, Grand Medium of the High Court intoned her instructions. Her head lolled in a circle and small moans escaped her lips. The rest of the room’s occupants glued their eyes to her face.
“Madam Aloiysha,” Dalia Butterman whispered. “Please, tell us. Where is my grandfather’s will? To whom did he leave his estate?”
“The will is not your concern,” Aloiysha rasped in a deeper voice. “Better it is that you should ask another question. Far better it is that you should ask how I died.”
“You had a heart attack,” Mr. Butterman cried. “The autopsy declared your death a natural one.”
“Easy enough for you to make that happen,” Aloiysha fixed dark eyes on him. “You are a doctor, after all.
“You should have listened to me,” Aloiysha turned to Dalia and spoke in her own voice once again. “I predicted his death at the hand of a family member, and you paid no mind.”
“I don’t have to listen to this!” Butterman shot out of his chair and sent it flying backward.
“To this? No.” Aloiysha nodded. “But perhaps my next prediction will prove more interesting. You will hang for this crime.”
“First they will have to find me,” Butterman backed towards the door and into the barrel of a gun.
“I would say they have,” Aloiysha smiled. “But then, if you had asked, I could have told you they would.”
(This took longer than a minute certainly, but the story was one I wanted to tell as soon as I saw the prompt word. I had the bare bones of the idea, but it took a bit to figure out exactly how to make it all work. The challenge in this tale was to bring the guilty party to light without giving away what would happen at the end.)