The Dinner Party

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As the car pulled to a stop Joe Harrington straightened his tie and breathed nervously. Joe was on the brink of a career defining moment if all went well.

The concierge who met him was suitably attired for a Halloween event, while still pointedly being polite about it. Invitation approved, the entrance to Beech House was opened.

Joe stopped just inside the stately home and marvelled at its Gothic interior. If he'd been able to, he would have sneaked a camera in. He was deliberating using his smart phone before an elderly gentleman approached.

"Ah, Lord Huxley!", Joe beamed enigmatically. "Thank you for the invitation!".

Lord Huxley regarded Joe keenly before proffering his hand.

"Welcome to Beech House", his rich voice opined. "May I present Lady Huxley?". A petite yet very imposing woman smiled thinly at Joe.

"Now, please do come to the dining room", Lord Huxley gestured. "It's almost time".

Entering the dining room Joe was greeted by ten other people, no doubt lords and ladies, who were seated politely around a finely carved beech table. They all turned to look upon Joe silently as he was seated and a choice of fine wine offered. Lord and Lady Huxley, both seated at the head of the table, smiled again.

Joe thought he could smell burning and cursed inwardly. He'd had recurring nightmares since childhood and drank deeply of his red wine to quell the panic. It worked, if rather too well. Looking around the table, he realised all eyes were upon him and there was an almost knowing smile on each otherwise blank face.

"Now, before dinner", Lord Huxley began, rising to his feet. "A speech, and a toast!".

"Oh, what's the occasion?", Joe enquired to polite laughter.

"Please, there's no need", Lord Huxley replied, refilling Joe's glass. "For today is the the thirtieth anniversary of a great tragedy here at Beech House, and one we honour every year. Thirty years ago on this very night, we were to celebrate a new era....but!". Lord Huxley raised a solemn hand. "A great fire ripped through my house!".

"A....a fire?", Joe stuttered, his panic rising again. Looking around he noticed all the guests, and Lady Huxley, were as solemn as the Lord of the house.

"Yes", Lord Huxley replied, gravely. "A fire that not only burnt this place to the ground but meant we were unable to finish what we had started.

A candelabra flashed into Joe's mind, and embers. He shook his head.

"Of course you may not remember, Joe Harrington", Lord Huxley began, resuming his place. "But then, as tonight, you were the thirteenth".

Joe started in shock then realized his eyes were watering from smoke. It was getting warmer too, uncomfortable and oppressive.

"So now, a toast! For having bought you back here, we can at least take you with us!".

Joe realized that his hosts had no drink before them. Once more he regarded the other guests, only to have their charred corpses seared into his memory.

As the fire raged, so did the hatred in Lord Huxley's one remaining eye.

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