The music from downstairs shuts off entirely and laughter proceeds to fill its absence, along with heavy footsteps and the clicking of heels against the hardwood floor as the last of the stragglers begin to leave the frat house. Heather and I get dressed as quickly as possible and quietly make our way to the top of the stairs, staying within the shadows so nobody sees us.
“Bye!” a few girls call cheerily as they exit through the front door.
“See you at the game tomorrow, brother!!” someone else calls.
“OOH, OOH, OOH!” men begin to chant as they walk through the door.
“How much did the three of you have to drink?” a female voice asks.
“Too f-fucking much.” Jack chuckles drunkenly, stumbling slightly.
The three familiar voices—soon to be dead—all laugh with the rest of the football team, and before I know it, the door to the house slams shut.
“Now we wait,” I whisper.
“Wait for what?”
I hold up my hand in front of us, splaying each finger out. “Five,” I begin to count. “Four. Three. Two…” And before I can get the final count out, I hear three hefty thumps. “One.” I grin devilishly.
“Can we go downstairs now?”
“Yeah. The drug doesn’t last that long, so we need to be quick.” Heather presses her hands to my chest, playfully shoving me off of her so she has space to run down the stairs. A wide smile is displayed on her face as she does, and I haven’t felt as happy as I do now, in two-hundred days. Because this is the first time… she’s going to kill with me.
It took a while for us to drag the bodies of Jack, Toby, and Chad into the kitchen and tie them to the dining table chairs. Thick, brown rope is wrapped tightly around their torsos, their arms and wrists stretched and knotted behind the backrest, and each ankle spread and tied to a separate chair leg.
I cross my arms over my chest, resting my lower back against the edge of the kitchen island next to where the love of my life stands. “Are you okay?” I ask, looking down at her.
Her right shoulder lifts in a half shrug but she refuses to take her eyes off of the three men sitting in front of us. “Is this when it would’ve happened?”
“No.” I shake my head solemnly. “When I found you, it was after they turned up to the party.”
“And they just…” She swallows thickly, like the words are excruciating to say. “Left me there?”
I uncross my arms, pulling her by the shoulders to stand in front of me, and circle my arms around her waist. “Yes. They know they killed you earlier, so as far as they’re concerned right now… you’re dead. So, this is going to be wild seeing their reactions.”
“I’ll bet.”
Jack releases a groggy moan from the back of his throat, his head lulling backwards as he coughs a few times, and we watch as the others slowly follow suit and begin to come around in unison.
It was only enough to knock them out for a short period of time too. I knew exactly when the party ended, so I was able to time everything just right. Dosing their keg, knowing the third one would be the last one they opened before people started to leave. Everything was perfectly set up in preparation for tonight. Usually, when I get to this point, I’m the one who kills them. But who am I to deny my world her revenge?
“What… the fuck, bro.” Jack speaks first, releasing a tired grumble, licking the dryness away from his thin lips. “How much did we—” Heather and I watch as he begins to fight weakly against the restraints, both of us still going unnoticed as he starts to panic. His eyes widen in shock when his gaze lands on me and Heather, and I can see a multitude of emotions pass over his face. But only one remains after he blinks a few times. Fear. “W-what the… Y-you’re supposed to be—”
“Dead?” she finishes for him. “Yeah, I can see how that would surprise you.” She steps out of my hold and walks towards him, bending at the waist and resting her hands on her knees. “But asyou can see… I’mverymuch alive. The same can’t be said for the three of you though.”
“Dude.” Chad chuckles as he begins to wake up. “Why am I—” He looks at Heather, and all the colour drains from his face. “What the fuck!?” he stutters. “Wha-what the FUCK!?” he repeats, but this time with a terrified scream, hysterically thrashing about in the chair until it topples over, and all I can do is look to the ceiling and groan.
Fucking typical.
Chad always was a fucking pussy.
I walk towards him, taking hold of the back of the chair and lifting him back into an upright position, ignoring his protests of this all being a dream.
Toby is the last to come around, except unlike the others, he says nothing. All he does is look between Heather and I, wide-eyed like Jack and Chad, but as quiet as a mouse. Each of them gawking at the girl they murdered in cold blood a few hours ago.
The girl they stole from me.
The very heart they furiously tore from my chest.
