The people begin flooding into the room, claiming each of their chairs as they glance around the caging walls, wondering where the host has gone.

Virginia peers into the room through the eyes of a Victorian painting, which sits right behind where she'll be sitting in just a moment. However, she must first observe.

She must make sure that all her guests arrive.

Women of all ages enter, dressed in all sorts of outfits. Virginia had given them no direction on how to dress, hoping that they'd choose what closely fitted their own style. It had worked; she could spot everything from short white dresses to full-black ensembles.

And as they look between each other, curious at the other members of the tea party, Virginia can't help but smile. Confusion is all that she needs. It will help distract from the true purpose of the party.

Once Virginia recognizes all of the faces she invited sitting at the table, she shuts the lights off.

When light returns to the room, Virginia is sat in her chair, blank-faced, as though she had been there all along.

A wave of unease washes over the room as Virginia projects in an airy voice, "Good evening! Glad to see you've all arrived. Just in time for tea!"

The guests look over the table, void of any cups or teapots, before Virginia continues, "You'll be selecting your own teacups. I wouldn't want to assume your taste."

She gestures with her hand out to a nearby cupboard, the glass doors revealing a varied arrangement of teacups for any and every occasion.

The women look around wide-eyed, making no move.

Virginia laughs, "Well, go on! We don't have all day."

They scramble to get up, an odd sense of urgency fueling them towards the cupboard as they take their pick at dishware.

When the women return, each with a cup that seems to fit their current dress, Virginia may move on to the most important part of the event.

The tea.

Servants dressed in identical clinically-white aprons carry teapots into the room, sweeping each cup with a different tea, so each woman gets a different flavor.

As quickly as they entered, the servants slip out of the room, leaving a loud silence hovering over the room.

Virginia smiles widely, "Now. Drink."

The women have no hesitation, taking long sips from their cups.

"Alright, that's enough."

A chorus of clinking echoes as the women return the teacups back to their plates.

"Half of your cups contained a poison."

The expressions of the guests instantly turn grave.

"But not to worry! The other half of the cups had an antidote. The only question is, well, whether you're going to risk drinking from a different cup."

One of the younger women, dressed in a bright outfit, asks, "Why wouldn't we? There's an equal chance of either antidote or poison. Not drinking is a risk."

The grin placed on Virginia's face deepens, growing more sinister, "Ah, yes. But if you've received an antidote, you risk drinking the poison. If you've got poison, you may very well drink more poison."

The young woman pipes up again, "So why not drink them all?"

"I forgot to mention. The poison was nearly a lethal dose. A second intake would certainly kill you within moments, regardless of whether you've consumed an antidote."

Virginia pauses for dramatic effect, and also to take in the moment. She's quite proud of the stunt she's pulled off; she'll surely never top the paper she's going to write about this experiment ever again.

With a final bow, she announces, "You won't know if you've been poisoned until you're already dead."

The lights shut off, and once again, Virginia disappears to her lookout behind the painting.

She observes as the women scramble, and takes her notes excitedly as they each begin to drop. One by one.

Until not a single guest remains.