I’m sure every person in town has heard about it by now.
Regina pulled an all-nighter to try to get into the feeds, but whatever protection they have around them, it’s robust.
“I’ll watch for you.” She hangs up, and I hit the gas.
By the time I’m pulling into her parents’ house, the storm is in full swing. There’s a wind that’s sending the rain sideways, and Regina gets as soaked as I am when she gets in the car.
“Tell me what happened?” I ask her, making the twenty-minute journey to Jenna’s house.
She pulls her hair back into a ponytail. “It was weird, Indie. It was completely silent. I thought she was pulling one of her stupid pranks again, told her to fucking quit it as I was getting freaked out. Then I thought she had dialled me in her sleep, seeing as she kept getting up to see how we were doing. It was like she was breathing down the phone, almost gurgling.”
I look over at her, and her eyes are tight, worry etched around the crinkles.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine. We’re almost there,” I say, speeding up for the second time tonight on treacherous roads.
When we pull into the long driveway, I immediately get chills, and it’s nothing to do with the weather.
Jenna’s house is in darkness; her parents’ car isn’t in its spot, only hers.
“Do you think we should call the police?” she whispers, and I let out a long breath.
I’ve lost faith in our justice department as it stands. I’m not hopeful they’ll ever be able to redeem themselves.
“Call her back; she could just be napping like you said,” I answer as we step out of the car.
Rain crashes off of the surrounding forestry as it fills the air, leaves shivering in the wind so loud, I can barely hear myself running through the gravel driveway.
It thumps off the roof of the porch like thunder, and I’m completely drenched again as I wait for Regina to catch up.
“Did she answer?” I shout through the rain, pushing my soaked hair back from my forehead.
She can’t hear me, but her phone is pressed to her ear under her hood as she walks towards me. I turn towards the front door, taken aback that it’s lying slightly open.
Forcing down a swallow, I tuck my hand into my sleeve, gently nudging it further; every centimetre it creaks wider has the blood draining from my body.
My eyes blink rapidly as I inch back, the stench of metallic threatening to suffocate me.
“She’s not—” Regina’s words get lodged in her throat.
Just as the call cuts on her phone, so does the screen that goes black next to the body.
My legs tremble, the joints feel weak, and terror grows like vines through my chest.
“Indie—”
“Call the cops,” I gasp, “right now.”
My hand grips with hers, hard, dragging us away from the bloodbath scene before us.
Jenna’s still in her clothes from when I saw her this morning, her body sprawled out in the hallway, a pool of thick scarlet circling around her.
Enough blood to make clear that she’s dead.
It’s stained all over the bleached hardwood, splattered over the once white walls, and there’s handprints covering the stairs from a struggle.
I lock the car doors as soon as we’re back inside, checking the backseat to make sure no one slipped inside.
Regina’s eyes are bulged, moving on autopilot as she calls emergency services.
