Prologue

On her fifth birthday, Betty Cooper's life became a little bit more complicated, a little more strange. And she wasn't even old enough to understand what was happening. But what she didn't know, was this wasn't the first time. The phenomenon had been happening since she was born, but her fifth birthday was the first time she would remember it. She would be the only one, out of Eight kids, who had the ability to remember The Luna Effect.

Elizabeth was a happy, healthy child. There was nothing weird about her life. Unless of course, it was in her imagination; where her stuffed animals spoke to her in squeaky voices or her drawings, colourful ink sketching out grinning sun's and smiley faces came to life before her eyes. Betty loved to daydream, she loved to wish things alive with her mind. But she wasn't imagining things when she woke up on her birthday. The thing was, birthdays were supposed to be exciting. She was used to waking up to her mother's sweet singing, to Polly's giggling, and a giant pink frothy cake that was all hers. And the presents; her dad stumbling in, hoarding brightly coloured packages wrapped with colourful string. Betty loved her birthday. How could she not? It was a magical day just for her. The only day her mom would let her stuff herself with cake and fizzy soda. But her fifth birthday was different. It was like no other. And she would come to realize that her birthday would never be the same again.

When she woke up, an unfamiliar feeling of terror, something she wasn't used to, filled her as her senses drifted back while she teetered on the edge of slumber. That was when the aroma hit. It tickled her nose and throat, making her feel sick. Betty couldn't identify the smell. All she could describe it as, in her mind, was- gross. It smelt like the time she had spent all day in her mother's garden, playing with flowers, covering herself in dirt and making mud pies. The smell was...earth. It was thick, musty earth overwhelming her senses. the stench choked her lungs, made her feel like she had a mouthful of dirt. But when she panicked, running her tongue around her mouth, there was nothing. No dirt. Only the distant taste of mint from brushing her teeth before bed. Everything felt so wrong. So out of place.

There was an eerie silence which was like white noise in her ears.

Betty wasn't used to waking up in a strange place which wasn't her bedroom. The moment she opened her eyes and failed to see her bright pink wallpaper, and the stars her mother had stuck on her ceiling to lull her to sleep, she started to panic. But that wasn't all. Betty was no longer wrapped up in her Mulan bed sheets. Instead, she had found herself curled up, lying on not her bed, but something uncomfortable. Hard. It dug harshly into her neck, scraping the back of her head. When she moved, jolting, her heart started to thud in her chest, her whole body ached, and her pajamas chafed against the brittle rock she was lying on. Betty lay there for a moment, too scared to open her eyes. Because she wasn't in her room. Her parents weren't there for her to scream for. There was just the rock holding her, caressing her. She struggled against it, but the rock had a stranglehold. She felt like she couldn't breathe. Her first thought was that the monsters had stolen her away from her parents. Her whole body seized, her breaths coming out in shallow gasps she couldn't control. It was like being underwater, gasping for precious oxygen, and coming up short. But there was no surface to break. She was trapped.

The one thing Betty couldn't deal with was the dark. That's why there were stars on her ceiling, why her mother had to tell her at least four bedtime stories before bed. Why she had two night lights. One by her bed, and the other just by her door. If she ever happened to wake up at night wanting a drink, she was greeted with the Pink and Blue pale lights illuminating her room, as well as the stars glittering on her ceiling. Betty always woke up to light. Except not now. Instead, when she finally pulled her head out of her arms, where they had been nestled, she found herself blinking into the pitch dark. It surrounded her, enveloped her. The darkness stared at her, and she blinked back, too scared to make a sound. When she managed to choke out a soft sob, Betty jumped when the noise rang in her ears, echoing off the walls. Though instead of screaming, like usual, Betty was curious for a moment. Even if her chest was heavy, her lungs were bursting, and there was an inevitable screech burning so bright and colorful in her throat.

Betty blinked back tears and lifted her small hands, dragging them through her short blonde hair. The urge to cry out, scream for her mother- it was settling over her, suffocating her. But Betty bit her lip, hard. She fought against it and instead glared back at the dark, narrowing her eyes.

"I'm not scared of you." she wanted to say. But wouldn't that be lying? Her mother had taught her how bad it was to lie. Betty sat awkwardly on her knees for a few minutes, allowing herself to breathe. Maybe if she closed her eyes and wished it away? the whole place away, like a bad dream. Like Dorothy had tapped her ruby slippers together and wished to be home. Betty let out a soft sob, eyes flickering shut. She didn't have any ruby slippers. But she had to try.

What had Dorothy said again? Betty had seen the film so many times, but her young mind was unable to retrieve the special saying that would send her magically back home. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she clenched her fists tight. Finally, she broke.

"Mommy?" she whispered softly. Her mommy had to be here- she had to be! Fear clenched in her gut, a monster slowly leaching itself into her mind, whispering bad things. Betty tried again; louder this time. "Mommy!" she lunged forward, a cry slipping from her lips. She attacked the darkness with her fists, screaming and crying until her throat was raw and her knees were scraped and bleeding from hitting the ground so many times. Until she realized her mother wasn't coming. Betty dug her face into her lap, silently crying out for help. Her nose was running, tears dripping down her cheeks while strands of her blonde hair stuck to her face. After what felt like forever, wishing and wishing and wishing the darkness away, a soft whimper broke the silence. And Betty's head shot up, another squeak clawing its way out of her dry throat. Because the noise wasn't her.

Betty was expecting a monster, as her imagination whirred into overdrive. She imagined giant shadow-like monsters looming over her, rows and rows of sharp teeth, ready to gobble her up. Except when she forced herself to open her eyes and face the beast from her storybooks, she found herself nose to nose with a boy. He didn't have rows of jagged deadly teeth and purple scales. It was just a kid who was, in turn, blinking at her in confusion.

Betty stared back, unsure what to do.

It wasn't just the boy that confused her. Instead of the darkness, Betty had found herself bathed in a pale, glowing light. She squinted at it, bringing her hand up to shade her eyes but couldn't see where it was coming from. The light illuminated both her and the boy's features, bringing him to life in front of her. He had hair the color of fire, splayed across his forehead. Betty recognized him, but his name was lost in her mind, suppressed by her fear. The boy was kneeling, his eyes wide with terror, glistening with tears. His lips parted as if he was about to cry.

But he didn't cry. The boy didn't say anything, and after a few seconds of losing a stare-off between the two of them, Betty wondered if the boy was frozen. She didn't say anything as she slowly reached out to touch him, to see if he was real. He flinched, and she too jumped back, dropping her hand. When she crawled away from him, she bumped into something else- warm. Something, or someone moving, as they jolted away from each other.

Betty blinked. It wasn't just the boy with the fire hair. There was another boy sitting in front of her, cross-legged; a kid also from her class. He looked different without his beanie, which was too big for him, slipping over his eyes in Kindergarten. But once again, his name escaped her. He too was frowning at her, his eyes wide with confusion. But he wasn't crying. He had mousy brown hair falling in bright green eyes and Spiderman pajamas. Betty was surprised when he spoke. His voice was broken, his lip quivering.

"What's going on?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. He narrowed them at her as if this was all her fault. As if she had been the one to bring them here. Betty noticed the three of them were sitting near a small pool of glistening blue, which looked tempting to jump into. The boy with the red hair was practically hanging over the edge. When she crawled forwards and peered into the water, her reflection stared back at her and she jumped, her heart thudding in her chest. She pulled back quickly, her breath catching in her throat.

"What's going on?" The boy said again, his tone tainted with annoyance.

Betty didn't answer the boy's question even when she had a reply on her lips. But she didn't have a chance to say it. The boy's face seemed to glow brighter with every passing moment. After a few moments of frowning at her, he tipped his head back, looking up. The other boy turned around too, frowning up at the light as if it was calling to him. Betty followed their line of vision, and her mouth popped open.

Light. She felt it like a physical pull, yanking on her body and mind.

Betty found herself staring up at the night sky through the jagged rocky ceiling. And right there in the middle, was the moon. Betty had seen it in the sky when she was going to her grandparents, and would often trail her small fingers on the windows of her mother's car, tracing the moon's path as it seemed to follow them.

But she had never seen the moon so up close before. It was huge, looming over her, casting Betty and the boys in a hypnotizing glow which lit the three of them up. The light shined in her eyes, suffocated her. Betty tore her gaze away before it could capture her again. The light was bad. She thought, quickly. Betty could feel it trying to reach into her mind, pull her into oblivion. She could almost hear a soft voice whispering to her, singing to her. It was so beautiful, a melodic murmur which reminded her of the windchimes in The Andrews' backyard.

No. Betty shook her blonde hair out of her face. No, it wasn't going to get her. She wasn't going to let it.

She turned around, once again scraping her knees on the rough rock, Betty faced the boys, still staring at the moon, unmoving. The redhead no longer looked scared. His eyes were dilated a pale white glow, and it almost looked like the moon was reflecting from his pupils, like it had buried itself in his mind, leeching onto everything he was.

Betty frowned. She didn't want to look at the sky again, fearful the moon would trap her in its tantalizing light. She shuffled towards the boys who sat together, the boy with the mousy hair was staring wide-eyed at the sky. His pupils looked like they were glowing, and Betty was unsure whether to laugh or cry. Though curious amusement made way for the oh so familiar feeling of dread creeping up on her. She realized they were in some kind of hole, or cave. Though there were no breaks in the walls, no way of escape.

The moon had the boys. Betty cocked her head, trying to get their attention. She pulled faces, like the ones she saw them making in class at each other. She stuck her tongue out and crossed her eyes, but their eyes didn't light up with amusement. They completely ignored her. And the longer she tried and failed, she became more and more hysterical.

"Hello?" Betty found her voice, and slowly waved her arms in front of the boys. But neither of them blinked, not even simply acknowledging her. Instead, they stared, entranced, by the moon. Betty hissed in frustration and turned back to the light, the moon, baring down on them. She wanted to yell at the sky to let the boy's go, to release them from its spell. But when she let her guard down, allowing her gaze to fully focus on the light, she too found her fight drifting away. She felt invisible tendrils twine around her, squeezing her tightly. When she tried to move, tried to cry out. She couldn't. The voice grew louder in her head, pushing itself against her consciousness, poking, and prodding, leeching its way into her mind. She couldn't push it out, she couldn't fight it. Betty dropped to her knees, her gaze stuck to the moon.

It had her.

Betty was no longer thinking for herself. The moon filled her thoughts, swarming them, suffocating them. She barely noticed the redheaded boy, still with shining eyes reflecting the moonlight, shuffle towards the pool of water. He didn't hesitate, dangling his legs over, before jumping in the pool. She heard the splash, heard his sharp gasp of breath, but she couldn't look away from the light. The boy broke the surface as the water around him lit up in the same illuminating glow. The boy didn't panic. He easily tread water, lifting his head once again, his attention once again captured by the moon. The second boy, after a moment, followed in his lead, and too jumped into the pool, breaking the surface and staying in the water, as the bright light washed over him, bubbling around him like a hot tub. He smiled up at the sky, his hair stuck to his forehead. Both boys didn't seem fazed by the water, or the glow of the moon, slowly taking them over.

And then Betty could think nothing else, except how beautiful the light was. How much she wanted to reach her hands up and touch the surface of the moon, trailing her fingers over the deep indentations. She turned for a moment, still with moonlight eyes, her gaze landing on the pool of water. And how much she wanted to swim. The voice filled her head again, pushing her to stand up, putting one foot in front of the other, as she slowly made her way towards the pool.

Betty no longer longed to cry out for her mother, she didn't want to wake the others up. She just wanted to stare at the pale light of the moon which washed her in warm light making her feel so tired….so sleepy. She felt herself curl into a ball, burying her head in her arms. At least- she felt like she was doing that. But in reality, Betty Cooper, with her golden hair still stuck to tear stained cheeks who had been kneeling in her Rapunzel pajamas, was still staring at the moon, her blue eyes wide, her lips forming a small, dazed smile, as she walked backward with confidence, not slipping or stumbling. The voice took care of that, controlling her limbs.

Jump. When Betty was facing the pool, staring at the boys, who were grinning blindly at the sky, her toes teetering on the edge, she felt everything leave her; her fear and curiosity. Her fight. And then she was flying or rather falling. She didn't feel anything when she hit the water, crashing into the icy depths. Because the voice was quick to drag her back to the surface, soothing and singing softly into her mind. And Betty let it. The voice was a friend.

The voice was a friend.

The voice was a friend.


Part 1

When Betty Cooper woke up on her seventeenth birthday curled into herself, feeling the familiar rocky ground stabbing into her back, and smelling the mold on the walls, the damp, moist stench of the cave. The mildew growing on the walls, patches of stagnant trails engraved in the rock. She was expecting it. Because ever since she was five years old, this was where she had woken up, on the dawn of a new age. When she was little, she tried to tell her parents what was happening, about the moon, and the cave. But they just told her it was a bad dream. Which it wasn't. Because waking up in a cave under the pale, hypnotizing glow of the moon with a bunch of her classmates who were as confused and scared as her, wasn't a dream. Especially when she, unlike them, remembered everything that happened. Betty was the eye of the storm. She remembered everything they forgot.

Every. Single. Year.

It was like Deja Vu. She would wake up next to the kid she used to call Fire Boy, who was, in fact, Archie Andrews. She had figured that out a few months after her first experience in The Cave and gathering the courage to ask him in class. She asked him about the cave, too. If he remembered everything, like her. Because she did. She remembered the moon perfectly reflecting in Archie's blank eyes, and his unsettling smile as he stared into the sky. But he didn't remember. He frowned at her and giggled softly, asking if she was playing a joke on him. When she had insisted that no, she wasn't joking, he had nodded slowly, a small smile creeping on his lips. "Uh huh," he had smirked at her. "Sure, Betty." Archie had pulled on her pigtails teasingly, leaning forward. "Did the moon monsters get you?"

She slapped him. Hard. He had screamed the classroom down, and the teacher, Miss Bailey, had ended up having a stern conversation with her about not hitting her classmates.

When Betty realized only she could remember what was happening to them, she decided to keep her mouth shut. In case her mom sent her to a doctor. She was still young, still half-hoping it really was a dream. Betty had kept quiet, keeping her head down. She kept her distance from Archie, even when every day she had the overwhelming urge to ask him if he really, really remembered. Archie was her neighbor after all. There were so many missed opportunities. In the Summer, he played in his garden, kicking his ball around his yard. There had been a point, when Betty had stood on her tiptoes, in her bright yellow summer dress, peering over the fence that separated them. Her heart had been thudding as she watched him run around, tripping over himself as he tried to kick the ball as high as he could. "Archie!" His name had been in her throat, on her lips. But she never said it.

He would think she was weird. Even weirder than he initially thought, all those months ago, when she first blurted about The Cave. So Betty suppressed the urge, and ignored him for another whole year, keeping out of his way. She made friends with other kids, a girl called Midge. Who liked playing teddy bear tea parties, and insisted on going swimming in Sweetwater River when it was warm. Betty forgot about Archie eventually and prayed she had imagined everything. Her mom was right; she just had a big imagination.

But then her next birthday came along, and she was back in the cave. With Archie. It wasn't a dream. It was real. Archie would once again be frozen in a trance, too scared to move, until she grabbed and shook him, pulling him out of it. Betty remembered the moon, the light and the voices that would soon occupy her head. The two of them would shuffle around, confused, for a few minutes, until they bumped into Jughead Jones. He was there the first year, and Betty had been too afraid to speak to him. Jughead was friends with Archie, but he had a certain look in his eye. Don't speak to me. His expression cried out every time she happened to glance at him in class. That was when his woollen beanie wasn't hanging in his eyes, obstructing his face. Everything Betty said to him, he forgot. Because it was in The Cave, and like Archie, Jughead forgot its existence.

And as the years went by- as her sixth, seventh, eighth and ninth birthdays came and went, so did kids in their town. On her seventh birthday, it had been Veronica Lodge. Then on her eighth and ninth; Josie Mccoy and Reggie Mantle. After that, there had been no new kids. Betty thought it had stopped, with just the six of them.

On her tenth, through to her fourteenth birthday's, it was just them again. Betty started to wonder if that was it.

That was until the next year came around.

On her fifteenth, it was a Cheryl Blossom. Her sixteenth; Kevin Keller. The same thing happened every year. With every new kid, there was only more confusion. Betty would try and take control, the elder she got. She told them not to look at the light. But her efforts were fruitless. The voice always found them, creeping into their heads. Archie and Jughead were always the first ones to blindly jump into the pool of water, and before she could blink, they were all in the pool, bathed in light, grinning at the moon.

Betty tried. She really tried to fight against it, but the force was too strong. Sometimes it made the others chant, coaxing her to open her eyes. But she kept them stubbornly shut. Both as a five-year-old girl in her pink pajama's, and a sixteen-year-old squeezing her fists so hard into her hands she dug half-moons into her flesh.

Which was ironic.

Bits and pieces of her memory were missing, however. Every year, Betty had found dark corners in her mind replacing what were supposed to be recollections of her yearly experience of the phenomenon. She guessed that's when she too fell victim to the moon's spell. Betty would remember glimpses of herself, trapped in that hypnotizing glow, fall into the water too, dragged into the water by her classmates' chanting, soaking wet faces peering at her through limp strands of hair. And before she knew it, she would wake up in bed. Still damp. That's the only way she knew it was real. When she was little, Betty would wake up, her night clothes bone dry. But as she grew older, it was like The Cave crept further and further into reality, until she could no longer call it a hallucination.

Betty wasn't crazy. She knew she wasn't, but sometimes she wanted to pour it all out to a psychiatrist. Who would probably chastise her for wasting their time, and suggest she wrote a book. She thought about it sometimes, just signing herself into the looney bin, and telling someone what was happening to her. Because she had no idea. She had absolutely no idea how any of this was even possible. On her sixteenth birthday, when Kevin Keller the sheriff's son had joined whatever the hell they were- Betty had spent hours researching. But Google had nothing. She tried every search term possible;

- Waking up in a cave

- Hypnotized by the moon

- I wake up on my birthday in a cave, and the moon tells me to jump into a pool of water?

Of course, she got nothing. Only offering Young Adult books on Goodreads or Amazon about mermaids, and Harry Potter fanfiction she would rather not read. So there were no answers. Nothing to explain why this was happening to Betty, and a small number of now Sophomores.

Her seventeenth birthday wasn't much different. Still, with memories of The Cave, Betty had woken up, soaked in her pajamas, which stuck to her skin. Her hair was damp and tangled, spread out over her pillows. She lay there for a moment, allowing the memories to seep back into her mind. Sweet Pea, a Serpent kid who went to Southside High, or real name Jordan, had been the most recent to join them. Bringing their number to Eight. There wasn't much to remember. Betty had jumped into action the moment she had woken up, shaking Archie and Jughead awake. She barely spoke to them outside The Cave, even if Archie was her neighbor, and he and Jughead had grown so close he was at the Andrews house constantly. Betty admired their friendship, if not slightly jealous of it.

Betty was pretty sure the two of them didn't even know she existed. She had received the same confused babble from Archie and irritated yelling from Jughead. When they were kids, the boys had stared into her eyes, year after year, scared out of their minds. But now they were just annoyed, angry and confused. Jughead yelling if this was some kind of joke, and Archie crawling around like a kid again, shaking the others awake.

That was until the moon had got them. Like every other damn year. Betty had managed to grab their attention for the first time in years, by telling them straight, that she had lived through it repeatedly, and that they had to close their eyes, bury their heads in the ground, just anything to avoid looking at the moon. To her surprise, Archie, Jughead, and Veronica had believed her...to an extent. "Do you trust me?" she had hissed at them, with desperate eyes. And the three of them had nodded, albeit with suspicious eyes.

"Don't look up." Betty had told them. "Just...just don't look at the sky, okay?" She had pointed upwards, at the rocky ceiling, the gap where the moon would soon loom over, casting a radiance so bright she had to squeeze her fists into her eyes.

"Why?" Jughead had started to look up, before her own hand had grabbed his shoulder, squeezing hard. And Jughead Jones had frowned at her, his lip curling. But he was looking at her, and not at the sky. "Just don't." she smiled reassuringly, gritting her teeth. She had lost him so many times to the moon, it physically hurt to watch it again.

"Okay?" She had pressed the three of them, her gaze lingering on Jughead.

"Alright Cooper, whatever you say," rolling his eyes, Jughead held her gaze and smiled.

Why was he smiling?

That's all she remembered. The rest of the memory was fragmented. Betty didn't even remember the pool, or the others diving in, or the moon poking out from behind the silver clouds, ready to take control of her classmates. There was just- nothing. The last thing she remembered was Veronica Lodge's face, her green eyes wide with confusion, her lip curled with skepticism. Betty had lived through the same expression repeatedly.

At six years old, Veronica Lodge had burst out crying, unable to speak through gasps and hiccups. At thirteen, the girl had pushed Betty. Hard. "What's happening?" she had squeaked frantically. But the girl had grown up. She was calmer. Less hysterical.

"Betty, what the fuck is happening?" The girl had whispered, just as slivers of pale light started to fill the cave. Archie had frowned, his gaze moving from Betty, inevitably upwards, and she had watched helplessly as his pupils slowly started to dilate that terrifying shade of glistening white that she was oh so used to. Betty had jumped forward, grabbing for him, with Veronica and Jughead joining her, trying to shield him.
But then they too had gone limp, like puppets being cut from their strings. Jughead and Veronica both glanced upwards, and Betty's heart fell into her stomach. One look. That's all it took. One peek at the sky, at the moon, and you were spellbound. When the familiar light hit Jughead's face, bathing him in the moon's spell, that's when she too had fallen under. Perhaps she had become so frustrated trying to shield the others, she couldn't help slowly slipping away, letting that melodic voice murmur in her skull.

"No!" Her own voice, choked with frustration still rang out in her head, as Betty presently rolled over in bed, muffling her face in her pillows. Funnily enough, the only thing she could think about was the fact that Jughead Jones had smiled at her, actually spoke to her. Her heart sank at the thought of him forgetting. Forgetting everything.

Betty wanted to scream into her pillows until her throat was raw until she cried and screeched out all her pent-up frustration. Betty lay on her back for a second, and stared at the ceiling, at the glow in the dark stars she had tried and failed to scrape off the ceiling. Maybe she was crazy. Maybe all of it was some kind of psychotic break.

Though her saturated pajamas glued to her skin said otherwise.

"Betty!"

She jumped when there was a loud knock on her door. "Happy birthday, sweetie!" there was a pause, before; "Can I come in?"

Jumping up, Betty quickly stripped off her wet clothes, grabbing her robe and throwing it on. She couldn't do anything about her wet hair. "Yeah, sure!"

The door opened, and Betty couldn't resist a smile when her mother appeared, a bright pink card in her hand. Alice Cooper looked like she had just woken up, her hair still a scraggly mess. She placed the card on Betty's cabinet, fixing her daughter with a warm smile. "Seventeen years old," she sighed wistfully. "My little girl's growing up."

Your little girl is going insane. Betty thought, a shiver flying down her spine. How could she even start to explain this to her mother?

"Hi mom, I'm pretty damn sure the moon is controlling me and a few others in my class, and we wake up in this creepy ass cave, and I have no idea where it is. Oh, and the others don't remember. Yeah, It's just me. I might sound bias, but only I remember."

Yeah, that would be a fun conversation to have. Especially on her 17th birthday. She would be shipped to some mental health institute before she could even blow out her candles. So telling her mom was out of the question. Who else was there to tell?

Nobody. There was nobody she could tell. Even the others, the kids who were going through exactly the same thing as her, were a definite no-no. They'd think she's lost her mind.

"Mom," Betty forced a smile. "Don't be soppy." but she made her way over and wrapped her arms around her mother. Betty breathed softly into the soft material of her mom's robe. Tears stung her eyes, and a stupendous feeling came over her. It was ridiculous, yes. Her mother could send her to a shrink, but could she deal with another birthday? What about her 18th? What was happening to her? Why was she so sensitive to the moon?

Outside of The Cave, Betty had avoided the moon at all costs. When she was little, she was scared of the light, of the voice. But it had no effect on her in the real world. The Cave seemed like a whole different planet, a world where anything was possible. Still, she was wary of the moon and wore sunglasses at night. The light gave her a headache. It felt like whatever force managed to seize control of her on her birthday, was thrumming in the back of her skull. Waiting for a chance to strike.

Before her only friend, Midge Klump had moved away last Summer, she had dragged Betty to Cheryl Blossom's party at the end of Freshman year. There had been a full moon that night and Betty had kept an eye out on the other kids, seeing if the moon had an effect on them. Except, no. Archie and Jughead drunkenly stumbled their way through Just Dance routines, while Veronica, Kevin, Reggie, and Josie passed out on the couch after murdering their liver. Betty had taken precautions. Of course, she had. When everyone was in the lounge downing vodka shots, she was in the kitchen, bordering the windows with trash bags and tape. Just to be safe. Thankfully, all of them had been too drunk or high to realize.

They were just normal teenagers. At least they were 364 days a year.

But that one day? That was when the very fabric of reality ripped apart. Science no longer meant anything, because how could the moon, the literal moon, control a bunch of small-town kids? How could it even get them to The Cave? Where even was The Cave?

Questions burned in her mind as she nestled her head in her mother's chest, breathing in the familiar scent of lavender. Tears slid down her cheeks, her throat was on fire. Betty quickly pulled away and swiped at her eyes, fashioning her lips into a smile.

Alice's smile disappeared. "Elizabeth, you're pale!" she reached out to check the girl's temperature, but Betty quickly ducked away. "Mom, I'm fine." Her voice cracked, and her mother pulled a face. "Betty," Alice's voice softened, and Betty's chest tightened. She hated it when her mother did this. It was the best motherly tactic to get her to talk. But she had managed to keep quiet for so many years. She wasn't going to break now.

"Nothing!" Betty grinned, playing with strands of her damp hair. Alice cocked a brow. "Why is your hair wet?"

"I went in the shower earlier," Betty lied. "I have to get to school early." That wasn't exactly a lie. The deadline for her AP project was today, and she had been freaking out about The Cave so much, she had only done half of it.

Alice nodded slowly. "Okay," she murmured. Then her eyes lit up. "Oh! You're coming to the eclipse party, right? The Lodge's are hosting a viewing party and Pops, and a handful of kids from your school are going! Isn't that exciting?"

Betty felt faint. Had she misheard her mother? She wrapped her arms around herself for comfort. Her heart started to pound in her chest. "Eclipse?" her voice was shaking, and there was no way of hiding it. She bit her lip when Alice's expression crinkled with worry. "Yes, the eclipse!" she laughed. "Elizabeth, have you not heard about it? It's been all over the news!" Alice grinned.

"My god, it's the first total eclipse we've had since I was a teenager?"

Betty nodded, smiling widely, trying to put on this facade that she was overjoyed that this was happening. But panic was pricking her heart. A total eclipse? Where the moon completely took over the sun, reaching totality and plunged the sky into darkness. She had a panic attack every time she even glimpsed a crescent moon, How was she going to be able to deal with a full moon bearing down on her? How had she not heard about it?

Betty felt sick. Her stomach was already twisting into knots, rolling with nausea. She was already making excuses as her mother picked up her laundry basket with a smile. She had homework, she felt sick, Bird Flu had made a return and was ravaging its way through the student body. Betty stood still and watched her mother. Her tongue was twisted, her throat dry.

"Okay, so according to CNN, totality is at 5:00 pm exactly. So be there at quarter to, okay?" Alice grabbed her soaking pajamas and frowned at them, before dumping them in the basket. "Elizabeth?"

Betty turned to her mother. "Hm?" she had to cross her arms to stop her hands trembling.

Just say it! Her mind screamed. Her mom wouldn't be mad, she'd be worried. If there was even the slightest notion that her daughter was sick, Alice Cooper would be pulling out her thermometer before she could even blink. Betty had the words ready to spit out. "Mom, I don't feel well, I don't think I'll be able to make it." Except that's not what she said. Instead, she nodded and pulled her lips into the brightest grin she could muster.

"I'll be there, mom." Betty stayed where she was, her gaze on her pink fluffy rug. If she lifted her head, she was scared she would vomit.

Alice beamed. "I think Fred's son is going?" her pale lips curled into a frown, as she started to make Betty's bed. "Elizabeth, do you even talk to the boy?"

Betty jumped to life, ushering her mother away from the bed. More importantly, the wet patches all over her sheets. "A little bit!" she lied. Unless her mother meant the broken conversations she'd had with the boy next door in the magical cave only she remembered, then...no. She hadn't spoken to Archie.

"Mom, I can change the sheets," Betty gave another award-winning fake smile at Alice, who shrugged and backed out of the room, still holding the basket. "Elizabeth, I'd suggest talking to Archie!" she shouted, before Betty shut the door, blocking out the rest of whatever her mom was saying. The thing was, Betty knew if she tried to talk to the boy, she would end up mentioning The Cave.

And he'd probably laugh at her, like in Kindergarten.

Betty dressed quickly for school, throwing on her usual pastel sweater and ripped jeans. Then she dragged a hairbrush through tangles of her long blonde hair. Which she was sure had been soaked with river water a few hours ago. If she showered again, her mom would get suspicious, so she did her best to straighten it out before pulling it into a tight ponytail. When she was more or less ready, Betty frowned at herself in the mirror, trying to ignore the dark circles shadowing her eyes. Her cheeks were pale, and no amount of foundation could make her look any less dead. Though she guessed that's what being awake in the middle of the night, lying in a cave, did to people. Betty gave herself a last once-over. But no matter what angle she perceived herself from, or attempted Snapchat filters, she failed to at least tolerate her reflection. The girl in the mirror staring back at her was the same girl in the dozen selfies she had quickly taken.

She looked washed out. Like a ghost. Normally she was able to at least make herself look presentable, even on her birthday. But her hair looked unwashed and greasy, strands straying from her ponytail. Her skin was pallid, her cheeks stick-out gaunt. And to top it off, there was a pimple blossoming on her nose. Betty felt her chest tighten with anxiety, and before she could give up and take the day off sick, she grabbed her bag and left her room, running down the stairs. Betty heard her mom and older sister Polly talking in the kitchen, and quickly put her head down, running for the door.

"Elizabeth!" Betty ignored the yell as she ran down the driveway, nearly tripping over her feet. The cool morning air washed over her, and Betty took a moment to breathe as she started the long trudge to school. The sky was a pretty cornflour blue, and the sun was shining. Betty couldn't resist greeting the sidewalk with a smile. She loved the daylight and long Summer days like this. Though thoughts of the eclipse darkened her mood. Betty cringed, her smile making way for a scowl. She lifted her head and squinted at the sky. The sun blinked back at her in all of its glory, and she felt safe. Betty was always in the light. Nothing would ever hurt her if she was surrounded by the glow of the sun. But the eclipse was inevitable. At 5 PM the sky would darken, and the sun would be taken over by Betty's greatest fear, the voice in her head, the force she had tried again and again to beat since she was little. Every year it took her classmates one by one, before taking her. And Betty was terrified it was going to happen again.

As usual, Betty did her best to keep to herself at school. It wasn't like she was unpopular. Betty scored a perfectly mediocre 5 on the social scale. She wasn't Regina George, and she wasn't hated by every kid there. She was just average. An average was good. At least in her books. Betty couldn't stop thinking about the eclipse. But she wasn't the only one. All day, kids were talking excitedly about it, as if it was this huge national phenomenon. Well, it was. But to her, it was her worst nightmare.

She was relieved when classes ended for the day, and she had successfully managed to hide from her peers, avoiding conversation at all costs. In English class, Kevin Keller had asked to borrow a pen, and she had handed him one over quickly before he could start talking. Kevin was good at that. Talking. Gossiping. He was the only confident gay guy in Sophomore year, and Betty respected him for it. He seemed like he'd be a great friend, but the boy usually hung around with Archie Andrews, Veronica Lodge, and Jughead Jones. All three of them including Kevin being part of the seven kids who were connected to her, connected to The Cave. And if she befriended them, Betty was sure she would bring it up in casual conversation, like word vomit; "Hey guys, do you remember The Cave?"

But she had to get it out, tell someone- anyone. Because Betty felt like she was losing her mind. How could she try and explain something only she had memories of?

It was half-past three when she finally pushed her way out of Riverdale High, amidst her classmates, streaming out like a swarm of locusts. Betty couldn't help glancing at the sky as she followed the stream of kids eagerly rushing around, Some of them were pointing at the grey clouds, already wearing the plastic safety glasses being handed around to watch the Eclipse with. Betty ignored a boy offering her a pair and pushed past him. Normally she took the school bus, usually exhausted. The sky had darkened significantly, tumultuous clouds starting to take over the sky, blocking the sun. She had been so busy frowning at the sky, looking like an Eclipse enthusiast, her bus rushed past her.

There went her ride. Betty ended up walking home, slunking along with her head down, her gaze on the ground. Every time she saw a shadow, she flinched, every time the sky got darker, her heart pounded harder in her chest. After a while of walking, trying to block out her thoughts with music streaming through her earphones, Betty felt something icy slide down her back, then when she looked up, squinting at the sky. There it was again. This time landing in her eye. When she looked down, the sidewalk was spotted with dark patches. Rain. Betty felt a shiver sliver down her spine. She hadn't brought a coat, and as the light pattering turned into a shower and the heavens opened, she sprung into a run.

Betty was throwing herself into a fully fledged sprint, stumbling in her flats, when a loud BEEP startled her. She turned, blinking in the downpour, at a beaten up pick up that had slowed down next to her. She was half expecting a random old man to pop his head out. But instead, Jughead Jones was leaning out, grinning at her. Betty stared back, wondering if she was hallucinating. The last time she had seen him had been in The Cave His gaze had been creeping towards the sky, towards the moon. Now, however, his eyes were lit up with amusement, his lips curled into a smirk. The boy was still wearing that damn beanie nestled over damp jet black hair, curling in eyes so bright it hurt her chest. Betty was so used to his vacant gaze , filled with the moon's pale light.

"Cooper!" Jughead gestured her over, pushing the passenger side open. "Are you going to the Eclipse party at Pops?"

Cooper. Betty felt her cheeks redden. That's what he called her in The Cave. As they grew up, Jughead had gotten less scared, and more annoyed. He remembered her from his class, of course, he did. He just didn't remember the first eleven times he officially met her.

"Cooper, I don't- I don't understand.." Twelve-year-old Jughead had whimpered.

"Cooper, what the hell?!" - Thirteen and fourteen-year-old Jughead.

"Betty?" The boy chuckled, snapping her out of it. "Are you going or not?" He leaned further out of his window, his smile widening. He seemed to be enjoying her getting soaked. "Or are you enjoying your shower?"

No. Betty wanted to say. No, she wasn't going. But she had promised her mother. She found herself nodding, well aware of her blazing cheeks. But she continued to stand there like an idiot, getting drenched. Jughead cocked his head, cocking a brow. The ride was appealing, though. She'd do anything to get out of the rain.

"Do you, uh...need a ride?" Jughead's voice was drowned out by the rainfall. Betty could feel herself getting progressively wetter. Screw it. She thought, smiling at the boy.

"Thanks," she ran over to the passenger side and jumped in, slamming the door behind her. Rain pelted the windows. Inside the truck it was warm, and a song she vaguely recognized crackled from the old style cassette player built into the dashboard. Betty buckled herself in and leaned into the worn leather seats, squeezing her eyes shut.

After a beat of silence, Jughead cleared his throat as he navigated an intersection. The rain got worse, slamming against the windows. Betty watched the drops slide down the glass. "So, are you going to tell me why you were walking home in this weather?"

Betty bit her lip, hard. "I missed my bus." she murmured, turning and smiling politely. He grinned back, and she barely recognized the kid from her childhood. The kid constantly hiding from the world under his beanie. Jughead nodded, chuckling. "Fair enough."

Ask him about The Cave. The words were in her throat, desperate to come out. She'd been waiting for so long to talk to someone, to prove she wasn't crazy.

"So, are you going to Pops?" Jughead's gaze was on the road, a warm smile spread across his lips. Betty found herself smiling back. "Yeah," she said, even when her reply was choked. When she caught his frown, she quickly added; "I'm not a fan of Eclipse's."

Jughead laughed. "You mean in general?"

"Something like that." Betty murmured. Leaning forward she could see the familiar luminous glow of Pop's Chocklit shoppe. It stood out in the rain, and she couldn't help marvel at the sight. Riverdale, at its heart, was still beautiful.

"Okay, so how about we don't watch it?" Jughead turned to her, smiling hopefully. "My friend Archie isn't a fan either. I can introduce you to some of my friends and we can ring for pizza and sit in the restaurant?"

"While everyone's gawking at the sky, at the totally-not-at all-interesting phenomenon, we'll be stuffing ourselves." Betty couldn't help smiling herself. He looked so proud of his idea. "How does that sound?"

She could hardly believe what she was hearing. The words stuck in her throat. She wanted to say yes. Part of her had always wanted to join their little group. But the Eclipse. Would it affect her? Better yet, would it affect them?

"Yeah," Betty couldn't help it. Hanging out with Jughead Jones and his friends, even if they were kids from The Cave, sounded like a dream. "That sounds fun!"

"Alright, cool!" he shot her a smile, and Betty swore he winked. Her chest tightened. Jughead had barely spoken to her in eleven damn years. Why now?

"You'll love the others," He said. "We've actually wanted you to hang out with us for a while, I guess it took me finally plucking up the courage to ask, huh?"

As Jughead pulled into Pops, Betty stared down at her lap, praying the rain continued. If it was raining all night, the moon won't be so visible. Which meant the light might not be so intrusive. Or- it might not even affect her at all. Outside The Cave, the moon had never seized control of her. She might just be tremendously paranoid and was worrying about nothing. When Jughead killed the engine, she looked up and realized the boy's gaze was fixated on the partition of clouds spread out across the sky. He was frowning, his lips pursed. At the corner of her eye, kids were already filtering into Pops. Betty grabbed her bag, unbuckling her seatbelt. But Jughead still seemed miles away.

"Jughead?" Betty inwardly cringed. She hadn't said his name since this morning in The Cave. When she was trying to reassure him that no, he wasn't dreaming.

He snapped out of it automatically, shaking his head. "It's nothing," Jughead murmured. "Sorry, I was just thinking." before she could reply, he grabbed his own bag and shoved his side-door open, jumping out. "You coming, Cooper?" he popped his head in, a smirk on his lips. But it didn't quite reach his eyes. He looked deep in thought.

With a half-hearted nod, Betty jumped out of the truck, straight into the humid evening air which stuck to her skin. her sweater was still damp. Going home and changing into something more suitable seemed appealing, but that would mean ringing her mom for a ride. Which she didn't need. Betty stuffed her hands in her jeans pockets and followed Jughead as he weaved through the parking lot. He had come dress for the occasion at least. Jughead wore a dark t-shirt and jeans, a leather jacket slung on for good measure. His beanie balanced on his dark curls, a nice finishing touch.

The two of them entered Pops, Jughead going straight to the buffet table set out. A pop song thrummed through speakers somebody had set up, and there were plastic viewing glasses everywhere. Betty idled by the door, considering making a run for it. The place was heaving with people, her mother was most likely going to comment on her appearance, and the moon could possibly ruin her whole damn night. Betty wanted to sink into the floor. Anything to get away from here, away from her overbearing mother.

"Betty?" Jughead was already halfway through a burger, a plastic red cup in his hand. He spun on his heel, grinning through mushed up meat and lettuce. "Come and see the buffet!"

Betty's stomach grumbled. She hadn't eaten much all day, except half a candy bar at lunch. The buffet did look pretty good. Someone had laid out piles of burgers and fries, a huge bowl of glistening red punch in the middle. She made her way over, her heart faltering for a moment when she realized Jughead was talking animatedly to a guy with his back to her. But the red hair was a dead giveaway. Archie Andrews. Her chest clenched, but she forced her shaking legs to stride over. Jughead was laughing at something Archie had said, and his eyes lit up when he noticed her.

"Betty!" he eagerly handed her a plate piled with fries and a burger. She took it gratefully with a small smile, and he leaned against the table.

"I wasn't sure what you wanted, so there's everything," he grinned. Archie chuckled, turning to her, and Betty felt her heart sink. The same brown eyes stared back at her, ones she had constantly seen dilated with eerie pale light when the boy fell under the control of the moon.

Betty blinked. No, she couldn't think like that. Not tonight. She was supposed to be enjoying herself. Except with every passing minute she found her gaze going to the windows projecting a too perfect view of the darkening sky.

Archie's smile was friendly. He was wearing his varsity jacket, bright shades of blue and gold streaking his shoulders and arms. His red hair was a curly mess, splayed across his freckled forehead. "Betty Cooper!" he handed her a drink, and she took it awkwardly. "We were wondering when you'd show up! You're the cave girl, right?"

Betty stiffened, attempting to play off her confusion when her heart had started its usual painful ba-bum rhythm. "What?" she laughed. Jughead looked equally perplexed. He nudged Archie playfully. "Way to make her feel welcome!"

Archie chortled. He gestured to Betty with his own drink. "Didn't you talk to me about a cave or something in Kindergarten and then you slapped me when I made a joke?" he laughed. "I don't blame you though, I was an ass back then."

"Wait, she slapped you?" Jughead laughed. "You never told me that part!"

"I was embarrassed!" Archie took a sip of his drink, fixing her with a grin. "Anyway, are you still up for pizza during the eclipse? Kevin's ordering them now."

Betty found herself smiling, actually grinning along with the boys. What was she doing? These kids were like her, like ticking time bombs. She had avoided them her whole life, and what? Because Jughead Jones has spoken to her, she was suddenly best friends with them?

She was about to really throw herself into unknown territory by mindlessly nodding along to Archie's invite before none other than Kevin Keller came over, hand in hand with Veronica Lodge. The two of them were practically joint at the hip. The pretty rich girl and the sweet gay guy. Veronica was in a short dress and tights, her sleek dark hair pulled into a ponytail. Betty had always envied how the beautiful the girl was.

Kevin smiled at her questioningly when he caught her eye. He was handsome, with short black cropped hair and blue eyes that she had only seen twice in The Cave. Both times he had looked confused and angry until they filled with light, and he was only smiling at the sweet voice whispering in his skull, pulling him into darkness.

"You actually got her to come?" Kevin glanced at Jughead, who had suddenly found incredible interest in his the third burger he was chomping through. Betty could hardly believe he'd eaten two burgers, never mind three. Archie smirked. There was a glimmer in his eye that sent shivers crawling up her spine. He elbowed Jughead, whose cheeks were darkening. "It's not like we've been waiting years."

Veronica giggled. "Now now, Archie, we don't want to scare her away." she sent him a warning look, and Betty's chest squeezed with anxiety. Veronica held out a manicured hand. "It's really great to finally meet you, Betty!" she smiled brightly. Betty had a hard time answering. Her gaze skimmed over the kids in front of her, all sharing glances, pursed lips and stifled smiles. They were clearly all in on some huge joke.

The overwhelming urge to make a run for it and never show her face in school again was suddenly so profuse, so painful. She felt pathetic. Like a little kid trapped in her own stupid fantasy. Betty thought they were all being controlled by the moon, when all it could be- if she thought about it, could be sleepwalking and hallucinating at the same time. Maybe she fell in a river and managed to find her way home?

But every year? On the same day?

Betty wanted to scream. Her throat was choked, her eyes stinging. Even that was a damn stretch. But how could she honestly think any of it was real when they all seemed so stupidly mundane? So ridiculously normal? How could she even be looking at the same kids from this morning? Their frightened and confused faces, bathed in enrapturing moonlight.

Kevin cleared his throat. "Guys, its nearly time," The others turned their gazes to the windows, to the almost pitch black sky, and the crowd of people outside already making a racket. Betty wondered why the others were skipping out on the event, anyway. Had Jughead really convinced them to all stay and eat pizza with her?

Betty cringed.

She could just about catch the first glimpses of moonlight splintering through the clouds. She averted her gaze and swallowed the anxiety building in the gut. Instead, she frowned at Jughead, who looked like he was stress eating as he stuffed fries into his mouth. Veronica nudged him. "Jug, take it easy." she giggled at him.

Kevin looked at her hopefully. "You in, Betty?" He waggled his eyebrows.

What exactly could she say? Betty knew she was a paranoid person, but their mannerisms, the way they nudged each other, seemingly talking in their own secret language. They were so clearly taking pity on her, on Betty Cooper, the crazy girl with no friends.

"Sounds good," she nodded at him, and Kevin looked genuinely happy. "Awesome! Okay, so the pizza is coming in about five minutes, and oh, Archie, can you sort out the drinks?"

Were the adults okay with this? she couldn't help wondering. Archie pulled a face, dragging a hand through his red curls. "Reggie spiked the punch with god knows what," he gestured to the punch bowl, and Kevin groaned. "Can you go and refill it?"

"So?" Veronica jumped in. "What, are you scared of a little alcohol, Kev?"

The boy glared back at her. "It's Reggie," Kevin rolled his eyes. "He's probably added battery acid."

Archie grabbed the spiked punch bowl. "I'll get a refill."

Betty wasn't sure what had possessed her. She could hear the countdown to totality outside and was terrified of even glancing at the windows. She could almost sense it creeping up on her, singing into her mind. She had to get out. "I can give you a hand?" She blurted, and Archie, after blinking away his confusion, nodded.

"Alright, sure! Follow me."

Betty inclined her head, following the redhead into the kitchen, with any excuse to get away from the exposure.

Archie set the punch bowl on the counter and crouched, yanking open cabinets. "Kevin bought some Raspberry punch earlier," he murmured. "Can you look in the refrigerator?" Archie grabbed a half-empty bottle of what looked like orange soda. "This is three years old." he chuckled before straightening up and dumping the bottle in the trash.

Betty dug around the refrigerator, her gaze searching for the punch. But the yells and chatter from outside were getting louder and more infuriating. "Is this it? she pulled out a brightly labeled bottle with a cartoon giraffe on. She offered the bottle to Archie, who nodded. "Yeah, that's it." He took the soda off of her, unscrewed the lid and began pouring out a fresh bowl of punch.

Someone yelled from outside, and Betty felt herself shrink. Archie glanced up and out of the window and chuckled. "One minute," he murmured. "God, us humans really are obsessed with the moon aren't we?" He continued pouring the drink, his brown eyes focused on the building concoction.

"Five!" The audience began the countdown. Betty squeezed her clammy hands into fists.

"Four!" Archie looked proud of his handiwork. He stuck in his index finger and licked it, smiling. "That's better." The boy pushed a hand through his crimson curls. "Reggie has a history of spiking the punch," he turned to her, rolling his eyes. "Last time Kevin got sick and didn't speak to him for two weeks. It was pretty wild."

Betty only managed a tight smile. The boy's voice felt faint in her ears, swamped by the familiar melody of wind chimes.

No. She wanted to cover her ears, to dig her face into the floor. Not now.

"Three!" Betty was sure she was going to faint. Her head was spinning, and she glared at the floor, her eyes stinging.

"Can you grab some napkins from under the sink?" Archie turned to her, his smile twisting into a frown. "Hey, are you okay?"

Betty didn't answer, quickly turning to root around under the sink. Pushing kitchen supplies out of the way, she grabbed a roll of napkins and jumped up, dumping them next to Archie, who wasn't moving. "Are these okay?" She managed to choke out. The countdown had stopped, and there was only a loud cacophony of cheering. Betty kept her gaze on the floor, her heart hammering. Don't look up.

Archie was still staring into the punch bowl. He didn't reply. Betty noticed his arms had slid to his sides, the bottle he had been pouring with crashed to the floor, leaking scarlet liquid. The way he was acting was something all too familiar.

She wished she didn't recognize it, wished that Archie was playing a stupid joke on her, and any second now he'd lunge at her, making her jump, before bursting out laughing.

But he didn't and Betty's heart quickened.

Betty held her breath and risked looking up, making sure her gaze was fixated on the red-headed boy. But the second her gaze flickered upwards, she saw the reflection of light gracing the walls, the window, the ceiling. Archie was frowning at the bowl of punch as if he'd spotted a bug floating in it, but he didn't move. Betty felt ice flood her veins. "Archie?" She whispered, shaking him gently. But the boy was completely frozen.

Betty could feel it already, swamping the room, enveloping them. Just like in The Cave.

Her first instinct was to run. Grab Archie and make a run for it. But when she grasped hold of him, yanking on his letterman jacket, he stayed glued to the spot. "Archie!" Betty hissed. "Snap out of it!" but the words died in her throat when she realized what Archie was staring at.

It was almost laughable. How everything had been so normal, how she had actually considered the thought that she was hallucinating. That she was losing her mind. But she wasn't. This was really happening, and if she hadn't have been terrified, Betty would have jumped for joy.

She wasn't crazy. She wasn't crazy!

The moon was in the punch. She caught a glimpse of it, rippling in the liquid, casting Archie's slack expression in a captivating white light that she knew was impossible to look away from. It sunk into your mind, seeping into your thoughts, your memories, everything you were. But it wasn't just in the punch, the glowing light was on every reflectable surface, waiting to take hold of her, slipping into her thoughts, ready to sing her to sleep. Archie continued to stare into the punch bowl in a trance.

The realization hit her automatically and Betty tore her gaze away quickly, stumbling away from the boy, balling her fists into her eyes. If Archie had fallen under, it was only a matter of time before the light caught her eye too.

"Archie?" Betty didn't dare look up. Her voice broke. "Archie, are you okay?"

There was no answer and Betty swallowed a scream of frustration. She had to get out. But she couldn't move, her limbs had stiffened with growing terror.

"Archie, come on! Wake up!"

Betty nearly jumped out of her skin when the doors to the kitchen flung open, and she flinched, shrinking back. She couldn't look. Even when the desire was burning inside of her. There were footsteps moving towards her, and Betty forced her legs to move, her mouth to work and try and explain why Archie Andrews was staring down at a bowl of punch like he'd just found the answer to the universe, and why she had her fists screwed into her eyeballs.

But there was no voice demanding answers. Instead, Betty felt warm hands wrap around her arms. "It's okay Cooper," the voice murmured softly. Dreamily. "You can open your eyes."

Jughead. Betty stiffened, the words she wanted to say clogged in her throat, and she only managed choking noises. Confusion thrummed through her. How could Jughead Jones be standing in a room dipped in moonlight without being affected?

She stayed silent, motionless, as she felt the boy's hands move to hers still covering her eyes. He was gentle at first, but when she pulled away with a startled breath, his hands became more forceful, until he was peeling her hands away, his fingernails digging into her skin. Betty bit back a whine when the first filters of light shone through her fraying eyelashes and her eyes blinked open.

She found herself, Archie and Jughead once again in a deluge of hypnotizing light. The moon bounced and flickered in every surface, every window, taunting her.

But Betty wasn't looking at the moon. Instead, she was lost in Jughead Jones' eyes lit up the most beautiful, torturous light. Any traces of the boy from earlier was gone, making way for empty eyes, and a playful smile. He still wouldn't let go of her hands.

Betty knew she was falling under. The familiar feeling of overbearing warmth washed over her as she drunk in the light. There was no use in her fighting. Her limbs were dead weights, and there was nowhere to run. So all she really could do was stare into Jughead's eyes, and he grinned back, squeezing her wrists tightly. But she barely felt the sting.

His voice was silky and smooth like melted chocolate slowly drowning her.

"Hi again."


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