“Calm down, babe,” Stacey balks as she spins to go pick up the poster that I dropped.
She looks amazing tonight. Her magenta dress hugs her body perfectly, showing off her curves. The sequined bodice shimmers in the low lights in the gym, making her look like some kind of sluttyfairy. Her hair is pulled back into some type of twisted bun and shimmering earrings dangle from her ears. Her makeup is dark and sultry, making my blue shimmer feel silly.
“We need more streamers,” Stacey calls at me over her shoulder as she steps onto the ladder to hang the poster I just abandoned. “Can you go grab some of the rolls from where we left them in the closet next to Principal Matthews’ office?”
I huff in slight annoyance but agree. Maybe walking to the front office will help me get out some of these nerves anyway. I’ve been jumpy since the other night in the alleyway, but tonight needs to be perfect. It’ll be just me and Sam, having the prom of our dreams. That is, if I’m able to pull him away from his fucking twin for some of the evening. I swear the two of them are too close. It’s fucking weird.
The hallways are deserted, not a soul in sight. It’s so creepy being at the school when no one else is here. This place is probably a Hellmouth of something and that’s why it feels like it’s cursed. The soft swish of tulle from my dress follows me as I swiftly make my way to the front office.
“Principal Matthews?” I call out as I gently push open the office area door. “Miss Stiph?” I call out for the head secretary too.
No answer.
Is no one at this fucking school for prom set-up? Does no one care that this is supposed to be the most magical day of our fucking lives?
With an exasperated sigh and a stomp of my pump, I stroll into the office. Most of the lights are off in here too, but the glow from theback teacher work room throws enough light down the hallway that I can see where I’m going. Walking by the registrar's office, I pause for a moment. I could like totally go in there and change some of my C’s to A’s on my transcript and no one would notice because no one’s here. But, that’d be bad… wrong… right?
Shit. Focus.
Continuing my quest, I head further down towards the very back of the office. Principal Matthew’s office is dark and appears empty, but the door is slightly ajar.
“Principal Matthews?” I call out. My voice shakes slightly as my nerves return in full force. “Miss Stiph?”
The door creaks slightly as I peer inside. It’s too dark to make out much but it looks like it’s empty—just his desk and chair. No monstrous masked men sitting in the principal's chair today. I let out a small chuckle. I’m being silly. Nothing’s going on. We’re going to have an amazing time at prom. I take a step back out into the hallway and head next door to open the closet and grab the streamers. Blue and purple rolls of paper sit neatly on the shelf in front of me.
But a noise pulls my attention. A slow drip. It sounds like a sink that hasn’t been completely shut off. A voice in the back of my mind whispers that I should let it go, leave it be, just grab the streamers and go. But another part of me is desperate to look. It sounds like it’s coming from the teacher work room further down the hall, the one with the light on.
I should go.
I take a tentative step down the hallway. Then another. And another. The smell hits me first—the rich, metallic scent of blood. I swallow down my nerves.
“Mr. Matthews?” I call out as I take a shaking step forward.
A pool of red leaks across the linoleum floor of the work room, staining the edge of the hallway carpeting a dark brown color. My pulse begins to thunder, and my chest burns from holding my breath.
I take a final step forward and the entire scene comes into view. Paul is splayed out on the work table in the center of the room—well, most of him is, at least. Paul’s suit-clad torso lays flat on the raised surface, but his head is on the floor. His wide, dead eyes are staring straight at me, clouded by death. It appears that he was decapitated by an industrial paper cutter, his jaggedly destroyed throat is still stuck in the instrument. Shredded tendons are smeared all over the wooden surface beneath and a puddle of blood seeps from the wound, dripping onto the floor.
Someone killed Paul… someone who’s here at the school right now.
JESSICA
One Way or Another by Blondie
Like everything in Sunnyvale, my dress is fucking dramatic. Smoothing my hand over the fabric, I look at my reflection in the mirror, not recognizing the girl staring back. I look like them… and I’m not sure if I hate it.The sequined bodice is tight around my curves, making my tits poke out the top. Every time I breathe the dress seems to shimmer even more. And the skirt… This damn skirt has so many layers of tulle, I’m not sure how I’ll be able to walk in this dress without tripping over.
I add the final touch, red lipstick that belongs to my momma, before taking a step back to admire the view. As much as I hate the idea of prom, of dressing up and wearing this. I have to admit—I look fucking hot. The red really helps me stand out andcompliments the sapphire blue of my dress. Letting out a low whistle, I shake away the nerves crawling beneath my skin, demanding to be felt.
Something about tonight just feels off…
Maybe it’s the dress…
Maybe it’s that the house is too quiet, despite others being home…
Or maybe… it’s the fact there’s an actual killer wandering around Sunnyvale while we crown a prom queen. “Ha.”
With that, I turn away from the mirror and step out of the bathroom. The smell of cigarettes and cheap perfume linger in the air, letting me know Mom is home. My heels click and clack down the hall, so much for not wanting to draw any attention to me. Mom peeks her head out of her bedroom door. “You look like a disco ball with all those sequins”
“Thanks, Mom. Maybe next time I’ll care about your opinion on my dress,” I say flatly, causing her to take an aggressive drag from her cigarette. Smoke curls around her as she uses her yellow stained finger to point at her hollowed out cheekbones. “ Add more blush on your cheeks. You look pale.”
