Teen Slasher Unmasked

I A Quiet Death

Jalon Pierce played Pokémon at a gaming store on Friday night.

He won a lot and lost a lot. He played a net deck.

He practiced daily on the ladder online to prepare for tonight's match against the best players in the area.

He brought out the Electricity Pokémon on turn one.

He had cards to put energy on his big Pokémon immediately.

He attacked within the first couple of turns - long, complicated turns in which he played a wide array of cards.

Lance Grey, his best friend, swore as he tossed his cards onto the table. He wore flannel and a T-shirt with a doomsday saying on it.

“You okay?” Jalon asked Lance.

“No,” Lance said. “I managed to lose. To Lost Box, I think. You can’t make me win.

I also lost to something I couldn’t identify with metallic people.

I don’t know what to say except to say that I am fantastic at helping other people gather all the fucking Pokemon.

And I can’t collect them all. I can’t even collect any of them. ”

“I’m collecting Pokemon,” Jalon said. “I don’t know if I’m winning or not, but I’m collecting some Pokemon.”

“Damn,” Lance said. “We’re not on the invite list to Madelyne’s party. I’ve lost at a strategy card game, and I am about to make some terrible food decisions. Ah, high school.”

“Madelyne is having a party. Will Alexis attend? Will there be pictures of what she wears?” Jalon asked.

“Why do you bother?” Lance asked. “We will never have a deep, meaningful conversation with them. I will never seduce Madelyne. You will never seduce Alexis. This isn’t that. They will hardly tell us what the homework is.”

Jalon shrugged. “I guess not. I want a hot dog and a burger. Let’s get out of here.”

“Now we grab dinner,” Lance said. “Sounds good.”

“Yes,” Jalon said. “Dinner! The usual place?”

“Indeed,” Lance said. “Dinner, the burger joint. Delicious burgers and hot dogs to be eaten over good conversation.”

“And if we were beautiful?” Jalon asked.

Lance smiled. “There are strange, bizarre freaks who are attractive and successful and happy. We fucking hate those people. Right?”

“Agree to agree, okay,” Jalon said. “And your Pokémon deck just needs a bit of tweaking. We need to simplify it, make it draw cards more efficiently.”

“Alexis’s hot boyfriend took care of a sick dog today,” Lance said. “What did you do to help people, fearless leader of the geeks?”

“I hate that guy,” Jalon said. “How dare he be noble? How dare he do a good deed? Infuriating.”

“Ignore him,” Lance said. “I like you.”

“I’m glad we are friends,” Jalon said. “I’m glad that we live this fucked-up life together, playing bad strategy games and watching movies. You’re a good friend.”

“Same,” Lance said. “Same.”

They walked into the burger joint. It was a nicer-than-fast-food burger joint, and they ordered burgers, hot dogs, and large drinks. They started to eat the food while playing on their phones.

“Dude, Alexis is looking amazing tonight,” Lance said. “You are right to love her senselessly. She is nice to everyone and talks to everyone. Her social media? Full of compliments, no meanness. She is elite.”

Jalon looked at his phone with more than a little worry. He knew that he would see people saying horrible things about him and his geek friends.

Pictures swarmed the internet of Alexis and her perfect boyfriend, posing in beautiful outfits at a party. Jalon shut the damned thing off.

“Roleplaying Tuesday? Will you make it?” Jalon asked.

“No,” Lance said. “Not making it. Busy. Stuff.”

“Cool,” Jalon said. “Family?”

“Yeah,” Lance said. “You guys have fun. Walter always goes all out.”

They ate hot dogs and burgers and drank way too much soda with caffeine.

Jalon and Lance walked home around ten.

The walk felt great as they passed through the neighborhoods of New Liberty, Illinois, on a dark Friday night in May.

Flowers bloomed from all of the April and May rain.

They brought their Pokemon decks in their backpacks with the rest of their stuff.

Occasionally, a dog would bark as they walked past its house.

They eventually made it to Lance’s family’s home.

They strolled in, tossed their backpacks on the ground by the door, took off their shoes, and headed to Lance’s bedroom to hang out.

Lance Grey was a teenage boy with shaggy brown hair and a goatee.

He sat on the floor next to his bed, opposite his best friend, Jalon Pierce.

Jalon wore blue jeans, glasses, and a shirt that said the name of a rock and roll band.

He was skinny and in shape for an unpopular sixteen-year-old high schooler.

He had a queen bed with a deep blue comforter, black sheets, and a fluffy white pillow.

A desk sat with a laptop on top. Next to the desk sat a bookcase full of comic books and graphic novels, many classics that were some of the best stories in existence.

Next to that stood the hamper with some dirty clothes - sweatpants and a T-shirt, a nice pair of dress pants and a dress shirt, a couple of pairs of boxer briefs, and about six socks.

Next to that - around a corner - was a lamp, a bright one with a glow that lit up the room.

Next to that was a chair at which Jalon was sitting - a chair at which Lance often sat and read comic books or did homework.

The chair was comfortable and had a retractable leg rest. The space heater was off as it was late spring and it was no longer needed.

Lance was a geek’s geek. He had watched all of Star Trek: The Next Generation and all of the 21st-century Battlestar Galactica.

He read World War Z repeatedly during his middle school years.

After reading all of Watchmen during the summer before sophomore year of high school, he moped while the cool kids were busy losing their virginity and learning to party and drink liquor.

He tossed well-read copies of Twilight and New Moon off the bed and onto a pile of romantasy novels beside it. He turned off Yuri on Ice, which had popped up on his computer from when he had been watching it earlier.

They sat there, watching television and playing games on their laptops and phones.

Then they heard the noise - the intrusion.

Could it be…no. It was something. They didn’t know what the noise was. They didn’t feel the fear, not yet…

“I heard something,” Lance said. “Fortunately, we have a solution for times like these.” He pulled out a gun.

Jalon Pierce smiled a sad little smile.

“Be careful,” Jalon said. “I don’t want you to use that. I don’t want you to hurt anyone.”

“I need to defend myself,” Lance said. “Stand up for myself by stopping someone who deserves it.”

“You understand that murder is wrong,” Jalon said. “I know that you understand that.”

“I could kill a murderer. I could kill a rapist. Hell, I could kill myself.”

“No,” Jalon said. “Don’t you fucking dare. I cannot handle life without you.”

“I need this,” Lance said. “To see what happens in the next life.”

“Find something, and fight for it. Not suicide. Never that.”

“Fine,” Lance said.

A noise echoed from the window.

“Someone’s out there, wearing - is that a mask?” Lance said.

“That is troubling,” Jalon said. He immediately hurried to the window and looked outside. He saw someone with his face obscured, wearing all black and carrying a huge dagger, something more like a short sword.

“Should we call the cops?” Lance asked.

“Nah,” Jalon said. “They’ll kill him, and he might be an idiot loner, like us, scared and desperate. Let’s see how this plays out.”

He looked out the window but heard someone - this time in the next room.

“Who was that?” Lance asked. “Some guy is in the next room. He’s sneaking around.”

Lance picked up his phone and looked at it. He wavered, thinking about people to call. Jalon smiled.

“You’re my friend,” Jalon said. “I don’t want you to hurt someone for sneaking around. I don’t want you to make a mistake that you will regret.”

“I won’t,” Lance said. “I will make a mistake that I will never regret.”

“Don’t.”

“I’m consulting InfoXTL.”

“Because you need an essay on the subject?” Jalon said.

“It’s closer to me than anyone but you,” Lance said.

“It’s close to no one,” Jalon said. “It answers questions. That’s it.”

“It answers questions quite well,” Lance said. “It’s starting to understand me, build upon each successive answer, develop a personality.”

“Bullshit,” Jalon said.

“It’s the only nice person in my life!” Lance yelled. “They invented artificial intelligence!”

“Okay,” Jalon said. “That still leaves what to do about the person in the next room.” “Who is he?” Lance asked. “InfoXTL says that the person in the next room could be a burglar or a murderer or a relative or a cop, and to be careful to check identification before hurting someone.”

“I don’t know,” Jalon said.

A noise came from the next room.

Jalon walked over into the upstairs hallway. “Stay here,” Jalon said.

Jalon had learned to fight the old-fashioned way: he fought against bullies growing up and trained because he wanted to stand up to them.

The upstairs hallway in Lance’s home was empty of people and stuff: there was a hamper with dirty clothes and a portrait of the family: Lance, his older brother Carson, and his parents Elle and Jackson.

The bathroom door was wide open. Jalon walked into the bedroom next to Lance’s: Carson’s bedroom.

Carson, Lance’s brother, was off at college.

Jalon saw nothing relevant in that bedroom. He saw the customary trappings of an angry college student’s bedroom at home, nothing more.

A gun thundered.

Jalon bolted to Lance’s bedroom - to the sound of the gunshot.

He entered the room to see the gun in the hands of a man wearing all black - black leather pants, a black T-shirt, a black leather jacket, and a wolf mask. He had seized Lance’s gun.

Lance looked at Jalon, terrified.

They did the only thing they could: Jalon and Lance ran.