Page 6

five

Come Out, Come Out Wherever You Are

A couple weeks later...

Blade

M y eyes are fixed on my prey as he scampers around the woods, attempting to hide as I slowly creep around, dragging the hatchet blade across the thick trunk of the tree. He has no idea that he’s fleeing and hiding not only from me but also from three other unhinged, savage beasts, and that we’re all still craving the taste of blood as much as we were the previous night. I hear him running through the leaves, his crunching sounds revealing his location, so if I didn’t know where he was before, I do now.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are…” As I crouch behind a headstone, I tease, watching and waiting to see what he does.

Unaware that there is currently no service in the middle of the cemetery, he takes out his phone. He leaps up and tries to flee, believing that we can’t see him. With perfect aim and precision, I pull back my arm and thrust it forward, sending my hatchet flying in his direction. The sharpened blade lands right beside his spine in the middle of his back, knocking him to the ground .

I approach him as he fumbles to stand up, calm but tense with anxiety. Blood pours from the gash in his back, paralyzing him, which was my intention all along. The pursuit of these motherfuckers becomes tiresome after a while. I need to be in the mood for a chase, and tonight, I’m not at all in the fucking mood for one.

"HELP!" he yells as I approach him, grinning behind my mask while fully conscious that he can’t see the evil grin I’m wearing.

Even though they're no longer required, the rest of the guys slowly approach with their masks on and weapons in hand.

“No one is going to come and save you, Shawn, so scream all you want,” Saint spews as he crouches down next to him, smearing the blood on his back in circles with his gloved fingers.

"What…what do you want? I'll give you anything! Please don't do this… please, " he begs, even though it's too late for all that shit.

“I want nothing other than what’s in front of us at the moment.” I grin, feeling the sweat from my brow drip down the sides of my face.

He screams a bloodcurdling scream from deep within his lungs as I rip my hatchet out of his back, and the sound reverberates throughout the deserted cemetery. Nixon and Riley grab his arms and begin dragging him toward the Mausoleum as more blood spills out. Saint and I follow behind, admiring the crimson river that is flowing down his back.

"This is the one that killed the girl?" I ask my brother, my eyes fixated on our next victim, my mouth watering as I think about the things I'm about to do to his body.

"Yeah, it's him, alright."

"Good, he's fucking mine tonight."

"You can have him, but the girl's mine, Blade," Saint threatens, his tone completely unplayful.

As we approach our secret chamber, the smell of blood and death becomes more overt, and I pull my brother against the side of my body while draping my arm over his shoulders .

"She's all of ours, Saint, but you can have her first. You know how this shit works."

We don’t even bother to tie Shawn down because his ass is paralyzed; he’s passed out from blood loss and lies limp inside the concrete dungeon—as we like to call it—on a slab stained with blood and bodily fluids from our numerous previous victims. Red pulls out his pliers and hammer, and admires them like they’re gold medals, while White pulls out the hacksaw and starts ripping off the old blades to replace them with brand-new ones. With his earpods in and Tech N9ne blasting into his ears, Silver simply leans against the door while twirling his knife around and smoking a cigarette, loosely tucked in the corner of his mouth.

I crack open a fresh bottle of gin to start the party as we prepare for another night of torture and mutilation, wondering what this girl looks like and why my brother already seems to be infatuated with her. He has never been this way with anyone, not even his ex-wife, and after their divorce, he just withdrew into himself like a fucking recluse. She has got to be some kind of special, even to his twisted soul, because the other night, when all this shit happened, I saw his eyes sparkle with color for the first time in years.

Saint

With fire, desire, and absolute salvation coursing through us, the four of us, covered in blood from head to toe, look down at the body parts and slabs of flesh lying around the plastic liner covering the floor. I save the best for last, taking my machete and aiming the piercing, razor-sharp blade at the neck while standing over the skinless torso. I split the head off cleanly with one hard, accurate swing to the spine, then watch with satisfaction as it rolls over to White's feet.

"Give me that shit. I have plans for it," I bark with a little proud tone in my voice.

"I don't even want to know, Sil," Red says, shaking his head as he starts picking up the scattered limbs and tossing them into a black contractor bag.

"No, you don't," I chuckle and take the head from White's feet, wrapping it in a heavy cloth to help absorb any remaining blood that has not yet been drained from the body. Making sure I don’t forget it on our way out, I put the wrapped head into my bag and leave it by the door.

"What's the plan after we clean up? Are we getting the others? I mean, we don't know if they saw us with the dead frat kid," White adds, chewing on a toothpick as the E pills begin to kick in, his pupils big, black, and wild.

"Eventually, Mr. Impatient. We can't take too many so close together. You know that. That's how people get caught." My brother throws his wisdom into the conversation, standing back and observing Red and White cleaning up the bloody scene.

"We're going out tonight. I need my dick sucked, and I'm in the mood to play a little game… how about you boys?" Black looks at me and grins, knowing how much I love me a good game and a good fuck, and right now, that's exactly what I fucking need.

But all I keep thinking about is her—Scarlett . I've gone back to see her every night since I first laid eyes on her four years ago, but she still hasn't seen me yet. It's better this way, especially if I'm going to have to kill her.

Scarlett

Another day that I wish I hadn’t woken up.

It’s well after six p.m., so I‘ve slept the day away, which is a good thing. The wind is whipping so hard that leaves are slapping against the window panes and sticking to them like glue as I stretch, yawn, and turn on my side to see another gloomy fall day. All day long, Carli's murder plays over and over in my head, messing with every fiber of my being. Even though I'm on the verge of jeopardizing my hard-earned career, I've managed to keep it a secret like the others.

My phone starts vibrating back-to-back before I can finish waking up, making the same noise as my vibrator on high. I grab it, and a tingle shoots through my hand, spreading to the rest of my body and jolting me slightly awake.

It's River. I should've known. I mutter to myself as I scroll up to the first message, click on it, and take a deep breath.

Hey, have you heard from Shawn?

Thirty minutes went by before he sent another one.

Scar, I need you to call me. I think something happened to Shawn.

I look at the time on the next one and notice it's from two hours later.

Scar, Shawn never came home, and he's not answering his phone. His location says he's in the cemetery…

Scar, pick up your phone. I think something is seriously fucking wrong.

Usually, River can be dramatic, and I'm only saying that because I love him. But as I read the messages over and over, I can sense the panic in River's words. Dread fills my stomach, and my skin starts to burn as I dial his number and put the phone to my ear.

"What the fuck, babe? Where have you been?"

"I've been sleeping, River. I was finally able to fall asleep for the first time since that night. My bad… What's going on with Shawn, though?"

"I'm glad you were able to finally rest, and I'm sorry for being a dick, but I'm fucking worried, babe. Shawn never came home, and he still isn't answering." Panic drips from his shaky voice and starts working me up even more.

"Couldn't he just be with some chick?" Trying to sound hopeful, I offer a suggestion, but he's quick to shoot it down.

"No, he hasn't been going out like that since... yeah... He was only going to grab pizza from down the block, and that was 24 hours ago."

"What's this about his phone saying he's in the cemetery?" Hearing myself say it, a bitter taste consumes my mouth, souring my taste buds and making nausea start to creep up my throat.

"I checked his location, and it says he's at the cemetery we were at the other night. Why would he be there?"

"Maybe to visit... her?" Guilt gnaws at me at the fact that I can't even say her name.

"You wanna take a ride over there with me to see if he's there?"

"Not really, but I guess so."

"Get ready, cus I'm coming now," he insists, making me roll my eyes as my head sinks further into the pillow.

Despite feeling like I’m about to have a nervous breakdown as a result of Carli's murder and the recent turmoil it’s caused, I hang up without objecting because I want to be there for my boyfriend and my friend.

I was under the impression that the police would be all over us and would have made a big deal out of her disappearance, so I’m surprised that they haven’t done anything to look for her. They explained it away by saying that since she was an adult who had just finished college, she probably wanted to go have some fun. I worry about it every day, but they never come banging on my door. However, there are times when I wish they would. That would imply that they’re actively pursuing her case as opposed to doing absolutely nothing.

When I’m dressed and presentable, so that I don’t appear depressed and strung out, I emerge from my room expecting to see Melanie, but our apartment is empty and strangely quiet. She's usually home.

Cold chills run through my body with each step I take toward the door. The wind is swirling the colorful leaves outside and slamming twigs and branches against the glass panes as I approach, with howls drifting in through the cracked, open windows. When I open it, wanting to be out of this creepy apartment, I run smack into River’s strong chest, my nose watering from the hard impact.

“Whoa, are you okay?" He wraps his arms around me and kisses the top of my head, reaching behind me to close my front door.

"Yeah, I just got spooked. Hey, you know where Mel is?"

"She's working; she said she didn't want to wake you," he informs me, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thank God. She made me worry, too."

The worry in his eyes is evident as he smiles, but it doesn't quite reach them.

We keep our conversation to a minimum on the drive to the cemetery because neither of us knows what to say. Since the accident, things have been extremely tense, which currently casts doubt on the status of our relationship.

We stroll around the cemetery, knowing the paths so well that we can navigate them without looking. Nothing stands out to us, and we don’t see anything from Shawn. When River looks up Shawn's location on his phone, it takes us to a Mausoleum at the back of the cemetery. Shawn's smashed phone is to the right, on the side, still turned on, but there’s no other sign of him.

"What the fuck is going on? This is so weird," River asks, running his hand through his hair.

"I don't know, Riv. But I think we should go and maybe file a missing person report on him."

"Yeah, I think you're right. Let's get out of here, babe."

Even after filing the missing person report for Shawn, hours later, when River and I leave the Salem Police Department, he has yet to make any contact with us. River is a mess, but I don’t blame him in the slightest given that his best friend is missing.

It’s a solemn drive back to my apartment. He won’t even reach over to hold my hand like he usually does, and knowing the gravity of the situation, I don’t bother trying to push it. When we return to my apartment, I’m a little surprised to see him get out of the car with me and hold my hand as he leads me to the door, after I had assumed he would just drop me off. I look up and notice the light in my living room is on, even though I know it wasn’t when I left.

Melanie must finally be home. I buzz us inside after entering the main door's four-digit pass code, expecting River to simply kiss me goodbye before leaving. However, that doesn’t happen.

"Do you mind if I hang out here for a while tonight?" he asks as we walk toward the elevator, his voice low and sad.

"Of course, Riv, you know I always want you to come up."

He smiles and squeezes my hand, bringing it to his mouth and quickly running his lips over my knuckles.

When we get to my door, I try the knob, but it's locked. I furrow my brows and take out my key, unlocking the main lock and the deadbolt, which is weird and unusual for Melanie to do when she's home, even since Carli's murder. What's even weirder is that when we walk inside, the apartment is pitch black, when I could've sworn I noticed the light on from outside when we walked up.

I squeeze River's hand harder, flipping the light switch on for the living room, and notice that Melanie isn't home after all. I look around cautiously, making sure that nothing is out of place, which so far it isn't, and keeping my worries to myself so I don't freak River out for nothing. I probably mixed up apartments and saw the light on next door.

"I'll be right back. I need to piss. Why don't you make yourself comfy and put on one of our shows?" he suggests, his brows wiggling in a playful manner for the first time in a while.

I smile at him as I take my jacket off, draping it over the back of the couch. "Sounds good. Let me run to my room and throw on my pajamas then. Can't be more comfortable than that." I finally get him to laugh, and his eyes light up, giving me a glimpse of the old River—the one I have been missing so much.

When I enter my room and turn on the light, I hear the bathroom door close and feel a chill spread across my bones as a breeze enters through the window I left open. I quickly change out of my clothes and into my pajamas, and am about to return to the living room when I notice something strange.

As I approach the window, I see what appear to be blood smears on the ledge, even though I know they weren’t there when I left. I shiver and scan the area of my room, paying close attention to the bloody markings that form the word ‘boo’.

I try to comprehend what I’m seeing as I gasp and cover my mouth with my hand to keep from screaming. When I look more closely, I see an arrow that has been drawn in the same dark, crimson substance. I then follow the arrow with my eyes and discover that it leads to my bed. I swallow hard and slowly as I approach my bed, noticing smears of blood on my pillowcase. My hands shake as sweat seeps profusely from every pore in my body, making me feel like I'm about to pass out from the horror my mind is going through.

This is just a dream, right? It's not real. That's not blood on my windowsill. This isn't blood on my pillowcase.

My entire body trembles even harder as I grip the hem of the pillowcase and tug it, carefully lifting it up to see if there's anything underneath it. I back away quickly and drop the pillow to the floor. A scream rips from my throat that I don't even bother to try and muffle this time. River comes running in, a panicked look on his face as he barges into my bedroom, running over to me.

He looks to where I'm pointing, and his face pales, falling as he backs away slowly, fear crippling him as it did me. "What the fuck is that, Scar?"

"I…I don't know, River... It looks like someone's finger."

Saint

As we maneuver through the crowd, strobe lights flash in my eyes. The bass is pounding hard and resonating through our bodies, sending tingles to the tips of my fingers. After a long day, I scan the sea of people, obliterated and free, just trying to find someone to play with tonight. The smell of sex and death is overpowering as I breathe in, taking advantage of all the bodies in front of me but only wanting one in particular— Scarlett .

Even thinking about touching her makes my hands itch, and I’ve been wondering constantly how my sinful touch would feel on her innocent skin; when good and evil collide, so to speak. It'll be delightful, I can tell you that.

The four of us make our way to the bar while navigating the club, stopping occasionally to chat with a few girls who are fortunate enough to catch our attention—fortunately for us, not so much for them.

While Blade and I take a seat at the bar and concentrate on the booze in our glasses, Riley finds a girl first and tricks her into getting a drink with him. Nixon is probably around here somewhere, looking for a small piece of ass to bring back and play the game with us. We keep things low-key by limiting our number to two.

With Scarlett heavy on my mind and her black silk thong shoved into my pocket, I don't even bother looking for a girl to fuck around with tonight. Why bother? Pussy is pussy after a while. They all fuck the same, just as all bodies bleed the same. Don’t ask me why, but I have a feeling Scarlett is unique, and her pussy is going to be something special.

"What's on your mind, Sil?" Blade tosses a shot back, hissing through the burn as it coats his throat.

"Nothing, just ready to play." My eyes stay locked on Riley and Nixon as they talk up their girls, trying to convince them to leave the club to come and party with us .

"Give it time, brother. They're working their magic." He smiles, showing off the smile all the girls drop their panties for, making his dimples pop against his caramel complexion.

My thoughts wander back to Scarlett and the gift I put under her pillow as the music rumbles through the club and the bass vibrates through me. When she realizes who did it and whose fingers they are, she’ll hate me, but she’ll get over it. After all, she can’t be mad at me if she’s dead, can she? Forgiveness is a bitch, and if she doesn’t bestow it on me before I slaughter her lovely soul, it’s not like I’ll fucking cry about it.

The girls stumble as they make their way back to the cemetery, clinging to Nixon and Riley for dear life, their laughter coming out garbled from the countless shots they downed before we left.

"You ready to play a little game, ladies?" Riley asks, a sinister grin curling on his lips as he licks them, eyeing his choice up and down like she's his prey, which she is.

"What are we playing?" one of them asks, almost faceplanting, tripping over a twig purposely placed in her way.

"You'll see…for now… run," Nixon speaks as the four of us disperse into the shadows, leaving the girls frozen in terror and unsure of what to do, despite the fact that we had told them to run.

We hide in the shadows and watch them, our masks going over our faces, bringing us into character as we get ready for the moment we've been waiting for all night. Eventually they run, trying to stay together, but somewhere in the dead of night—in the pitch black—the girls separate, each going in different directions. We follow both of them, each girl running into a different trap set up around the graveyard, anticipation coursing through me as I lurk in the darkness, waiting for the right time to pop out.

When the blonde runs through the path near me and Nixon, her leg gets caught in the bear trap, and the contraption yanks her upside down. Her scream echoes through the night as she swings, hanging by her ankle. Nixon and I emerge from our hiding spot, masks on, bat in his hand, knife in mine, circling her as she thrashes frantically upside down, trying to free her ankle from the trap while her blonde hair brushes against the dirt and leaves. The blood in my veins is frozen, but I've never felt more alive. Nixon steps up to her, his pants already hanging down to his ankles, as the girl cries, begging to be set free.

He cups her cheek, thumbing her lips, doing his best to get her to relax. "Shhh, it's just a little game."

"It doesn't feel like a game," she whines, tears pricking her eyes as she looks frantic at the masks covering our faces.

"But it is, you'll see. Open your mouth like a good girl for me," he says, guiding his cock to her trembling lips.

She opens and takes him inside, still hanging upside down from the tree by her ankle, nothing but eerily silent around her, leading me to believe that Riley and Blade have already caught their prey.

Nixon tosses me the bat, and I circle them, dragging it around in the dirt, patiently waiting for my turn to annihilate her. Still, I can't get Scarlett off my mind, wondering if she's found the surprise I left her yet. In the midst of my thoughts, a piercing scream pulls me from them, and I flick my eyes to the girl hanging in front of us, her platinum blonde hair now streaked with bright red.

"What the fuck was that, Nix?"

"The bitch fucking bit me, so I cut her throat," he says casually, tucking his cock back into his pants and wiping his blood-soaked blade on his tongue.

"Mhm, tasty." He grins, the girl's blood staining his teeth as he leaves her there to bleed out in search of the other girl, and of course, I follow right behind him.