Yacht

The sun dipped low as the yacht Elysium glided across glittering water, a floating palace of polished teak and champagne. Charles Davenport, billionaire host, raised his glass.

"To old friends," he said, his smile unreadable.

His guests included Lara the lawyer, Julia the sharp-tongued artist, Mark the unpredictable entrepreneur, and Daniel the tech mogul. They all joined the toast. But beneath the laughter, unease simmered.

As night fell and the yacht drifted farther from shore, conversation quieted. A chill settled in. Then Julia asked, “Where’s Daniel?”

They searched the decks, the lounge, his cabin. Nothing. His suitcase sat open, but he was gone.

“He didn’t leave,” Charles said. “We’re miles from shore. No one leaves Elysium unnoticed.”

Worry turned to fear. The boat felt adrift, isolated.

“He couldn’t vanish,” Julia whispered. “Someone knows what happened.”

Lara said what they were all thinking: “One of us is behind this.”

Silence followed. Trust fractured. Faces turned wary.

Charles finally spoke. “We all have secrets. Maybe one just came back to the surface.”

Then the intercom crackled: “Help… I’m in the hold. He’s here! Please help!”

The voice was Daniel’s.

They froze. Charles bolted for the lower deck. The engines roared to life.

The yacht was no longer a retreat… it was a trap.

Someone among them was lying. And the game had just begun.

***

222 words

I love locked-room mysteries and have always wanted to write one... but some of those I read are frustrating because the author leaves out a major clue, and honestly, I'm not sure I can figure it out, either. So this little intro was enough to satisfy me for now. Maybe I'll figure out what happened and keep writing...