Chapter 10 #2
From nowhere, the image of Brian’s butchered body flashes into my brain.
How long did it take for him to die? His senator father never allowed the records of his autopsy to be revealed to the public, but I saw the body firsthand.
If the wounds were inflicted quickly, it wouldn’t have taken him too long to bleed out.
The shudder running down my back jolts me back to reality.
I need to stop thinking about blood when I’m on the edge of having a panic attack over being in a potentially dangerous situation.
“Anyone?” I insist, watching the multiple screens light up in the darkness.
“I can’t,” Elodie mumbles. “I have no service.”
Someone scoffs.
“I keep telling you to switch from that shitty company. You never have service,” Zelda retorts, and then lets out a loud oh. “That’s weird.”
“What’s weird?” I press.
This isn’t the time to be cryptic. Can’t they just get to the point?
With every second, I find myself closer to the edge of hysterics. I can hear a giant clock ticking at the back of my brain, like a bomb about to go off and blow us to pieces.
“I don’t have service either.”
My hands move to find my own phone, and I see that not only do I not have phone service, but my battery is running dangerously low.
I spent a lot of my time texting Carmen before I found her, and then I forgot to find a place to charge my phone while I waited for the party to begin.
What was I thinking? This is such a rookie move.
I was hoping I wouldn’t be in this position, I remind myself.
Because it’s the truth. The entire day I’ve been trying to convince myself that nothing is wrong, and I’m caught up in delusional scenarios.
No one in their right mind would consider this a reality.
It seems even stupider when put into words.
Oh, yeah, I received a threatening letter, went to a party, hooked up with my crush, only to end up trapped in a stupid frat house with people I would rather not be with.
Not one soul in the world would believe this.
I’m not even sure I do.
“Wait, no one has phone service?” Bethan asks, her voice pitching. Worry is present in her words. “Oh God, they said this would happen,” she laments, pacing around the room. Her breath shortens and becomes louder, hitching with panic.
“What do you mean?” Cerys asks her. She’s the only one daring to press her when she’s in this chaotic state. “Beth, what do you mean?”
Bethan lets out a small whimper. “I got this letter a few days ago, telling me to quit being president of Kappa or bad things would happen to my friends. They sent me a photo of the chapter; we all had our eyes cut out. I thought it was a sick joke. It had to be, right? What was I supposed to do? Quit because some random person decided to play psycho?” Her voice cracks, both from fear and emotion.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put us in danger. ”
I hold my breath with this new information.
Bethan received a letter. Similar to the one Cerys received, but with a clearer threat. Hers had a motivation—to make her quit her role. This keeps getting more and more confusing with every letter.
What does Bethan have to do with any of this?
What does the role of president of Kappa have to do with the rest of the letters?
She hasn’t done anything that impactful.
Yes, she made the questionable choice to shun Cerys when she needed her the most, but that seems like an isolated event that has no impact on anyone else.
It doesn’t seem to have a correlation with Cerys because people praised her for it.
Even then, I wouldn’t say she’s a terrible president.
Bethan isn’t my favorite person in the world—forgiveness doesn’t come easy to me—but she’s an adequate enough leader for Kappa.
Again, what is her role in this?
What is the sender’s motivation for doing all this? Nothing seems to make sense.
“You too?” Cerys voices my thought.
“What do you mean? Has anyone else received a letter?” Bethan inquires. She suddenly stops pacing.
“Yeah,” I admit, hugging myself. “Cerys, Carmen and I.”
And Danny, I think, but I don’t expose him when he’s not here to volunteer that piece of information himself. Cerys knows about this too, but she doesn’t tell them either.
At my side, Carmen lets out a low groan. She still doesn’t want to believe in this conspiracy, even when it’s right in front of her. By now, it’s too much information thrown together to not mean something.
“I got a letter too,” Leighton sheepishly admits. “It freaked me out. All of our eyes were cut out from the photo. But it told me not to say anything.”
Sophia, Zelda and Elodie join her, admitting they also got letters and were too scared to share them with anyone, even among themselves. Whatever their letters said, it caused enough fear to make them stay quiet about it when they’re not renowned for being good secret-keepers.
The guys remain silent, watching this unfold between us.
If they received letters, they choose not to mention it, which makes me assume they didn’t get anything at all.
It means Danny was the only guy to receive a threat.
Maybe because of his emotional connection to Cerys and me.
It’s possible he could’ve been used as a pawn to bring Cerys back, like they used Carmen to bring me here.
All the Kappa girls and a guy from Delta.
What is the connection here?
Being unable to put the puzzle together makes my teeth hurt and my stomach twist.
“Who sent the letters?” Bethan voices what we’re all thinking.
Carmen pinches my ribs. She’s telling me not to even think about mentioning my theory, but I disregard her. At this point, my madness doesn’t seem too far-fetched.
“I think it was the killer,” I speak up, even though my voice trembles. “Brian’s killer.”
“Hold on,” Seth steps in, alerted by my statement. “We all know Cerys killed Brian. So that means she sent all of you bitches those letters and then tricked us into walking into her trap.”
“Whoa, who even said that?” Carmen surprises me with how she turns on Seth. Her tone is laced with anger, almost sounding dangerous with the way her words slither out of her mouth. Her sharp tongue carving the words, daring him to say anything else.
“For the last time, I didn’t kill anyone!” Cerys exclaims, frustrated with the accusation. “Why would I kill him when I know I would be the only suspect?”
“Well, you’ve always been crazy,” Seth says back.
“Already lying about how he abused you, when we all know he wouldn’t have done that.
Hell, he wouldn’t even have touched you if you’d been begging for it.
Or maybe that’s it. You begged him to give it to you, and when he said no, you decided to destroy his reputation. ”
Acid slides down my throat, fueling the fire boiling my blood.
How fucking dare he? Brian was a nasty piece of shit whose reputation wasn’t even harmed by Cerys’ accusation, no matter that the rape kit she got had traces of his DNA.
He carried on with his life, probably drugging other girls.
It’s nauseating to hear Seth defend him.
He always idolized Brian. I worry it’s because he also likes to roofie girls and rape them when they’re unable to defend themselves.
Seth is as disgusting as his buddy used to be, and I hate that men like him get to walk the earth, facing no consequences for their actions.
They keep getting away with it.
My body reacts before my mind catches up with it. I step toward Seth, standing in the middle of the living room, and I slap him. Hard. The clap of my palm hitting his skin cracks in the darkness like a whip, and he recoils.
“You crazy bitch!” he seethes. “You’re just as fucked-up as your friend. I wouldn’t be surprised if you killed him together!”
All hell breaks loose.
He leans in, fists tights at his sides, and I fear he’ll hit or push me. But I don’t move out of his path.
Maybe I want him to hit me, so I have an excuse to harm him.
I’m sure it wouldn’t do any good, but it would feel amazing to unleash all my rage on him.
Make him pay for his friend’s sins. Or his.
I have no doubt he has skeletons in his closet, but he keeps getting away with it.
Someone who idolizes a rapist is most likely a rapist too.
Maybe it’s my impulsive thoughts feeding me a narrative where I see some benefit in causing harm. I take a step forward with my chin high.
Bring it on, bitch.
I feel hands grabbing both of my shoulders, and it takes me a second to process that it’s two different people reacting to protect me.
Carmen and Cerys pull me back. The group starts arguing.
I hear Carmen’s voice telling Seth she will cut off his balls and make him choke on them if he dares to touch me; Sophia and Zelda accuse Cerys and I of being weird psychos, and Leighton begs everyone to stop fighting.
A loud scream pierces the atmosphere, making all my hair stand on end. It wasn’t a scream telling us to stop fighting. No, there was pure horror and pain in it. Guttural and visceral. The scream is the bell announcing danger’s arrival.
Everyone stops, turning in the direction of the noise. The back of my brain blasts an alarm, the warning present: something bad is approaching fast.
I hold my breath, bracing myself for what’s to come. For the other shoe to drop.
Someone switches their phone’s flashlight on, and by the slight movement, I recognize her as Zelda. When she switches it to the source of the scream, my heart stops beating.
The scene in front of my eyes almost makes me heave. Because the scream came from Elodie. Her eyes are widened, mouth hanging open, lips stained red. Her hands grab her chest where blood spills from between her fingers, making a spattering sound as it pools around her feet.