Chapter 8:
Cold And Unforgiving:
Sunday November 1st 6 am:
Scott's POV:

I sat on Geoff's front porch, absent-mindedly whittling something using my knife. I looked down, and saw I had carved a pentagram. The horrific incident flashed into my mind once again.
I dropped the carving as if it was a hot potato.
That murder... it brought back so many horrific memories from back on the farm.
Flashback
When I was little, my mom, my pappy, my sister Albertha, and me lived on a farm in Alabama. One night in the middle of the summer, when I was seven, the four of us stayed up late watching movies, when we heard noises coming from outside.
"Mommy, what was that?" I had asked.
"I don't know sweetie." Mom had responded.
"I'll go look." Pappy said, getting up.
"No, pappy, don't." Albertha, who was only ten at the time, pleaded with him.
"I'm sorry, honey, but I have too." He went out the back door.
A few seconds later, there was another crash, a loud scream, and a gunshot.
A man entered our house. He was dressed in black, and carried a pistol. His eyes gleamed like black coals.
The man shot the pistol, and my mom fell to the ground. There was a hole in her head, her eyes were still open, and her mouth a gape.
"Don't kill us, please." Albertha begged him.
"Yeah, please." I echoed.
The man put his pistol away, and chanted,
You'll never be safe

You'll never be free

When you think of this time

Then remember it was me

Then he vanished. I heard the back door closed.
Me and Albertha told the authorities. The man was caught and sent to prison here. Albertha was sent to a foster home in Arizona, and I was sent here to live with my uncle.
That was the most traumatic experience of me life. I never got that memory out of my head. It haunts me to this day. I still have nightmares about it. I wake up sobbing and screaming for mom and pappy. I get letters from Albertha now and then, but it's not the same. She's eighteen now, and just started attending Yale. I have no clue how the fuck she got into that college.
I put away the pocket knife, and buried my face in my hands. Tears started to form in my eyes.
"Scott?"
Startled, I jumped up, and whirled around. I saw Dawn standing in front of Geoff's front door.
"Dawn?" I asked. "What are you doing out here at six in the morning?"
"I should ask you the same thing." She replied.
She did have a point.
"I woke up a while ago before everyone at this party." I told her.
"Is something wrong, Scott?" She asked me.
"No-no." I said. "Everything's fine."
"Your aura says something different."
"Excuse me?"
"Your aura says your sad. Scott, tell me what's wrong."
"Well, that murder, it reminded me of my parents. They were murdered when I was young. I never got over it. I just... I guess I'm just upset." My eyes pooled over with tears once again.
Dawn put her hand on my shoulder. "Scott, I'm sorry." She whispered, sadness in those beautiful grayish-blue eyes of hers.
I was frozen for a minute by Dawn's eyes. Then I finally said, "Don't worry about it, Dawn. I just want to be alone."
I stood up, and started walking home.
But those that look in those heavenly eyes of hers will haunt me more than the slaughter of my parents.


Sunday November 1st, 7 am:
Dawn's POV:

I watched Scott walk away with sadness and anguish in his eyes. Scott tries to act all tough and standoffish, but he's actually a softie inside. His aura says so. I feel sad for him. His whole family was killed when he was a young boy!
I could tell he was sad because his aura was blue. Blue is the color of sadness, and that made me sad.
I walked down the sidewalk, the sun was beginning to rise, and for some reason, the birdsong didn't make me feel any better.
A squirrel came over to me and put his paw on my leg, trying to cheer me up.
"Not now, Silas." I told him. "I'm not in the mood for chit chat right now."
Silas flicked his tail, then scampered away.
I sighed. My aura had just turned blue. I felt sorry for Scott, maybe the fact that his parents were dead was the reason why he acted so bitter and annoying most of the time.
As I approached my house, I saw Silas glance at me from a nearby tree. I flashed him a saddened look, then continued walking. I noticed something sticking out of the mailbox. Confused, I pulled it out.
It was a note. It read:
Sympathy earns no respect

Hatred has no heart

He lives in fear of your reject

But I'll get you when you two are apart

Scott may have suffered grief seeing his dead dad on the lawn,

But he'll suffer even more when I take his precious Dawn

The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and my insides turned to ice. My aura had just turned black. The color of fear.
Looking around, I stuffed the note in my pocket, and bolted inside my house.


Thursday November 5th, Midnight:
Mystery POV:
My partner walked into my room. "What did you do this time?"
"I stabbed her multiple times, slit open her stomach, then arranged her organ in the shape of a pentagram." I responded.
"I mean besides the murder. About Dawn."
I turned to face her. "I gave her an anonymous note."
"Another one of your infamous poems?"
"Precisely. And it was a rather brilliant one.
She rolled her eyes. "Why Dawn?"
"She's close to Scott, and I plan to use her to get to him."
"What do you have against him?"
"His father bullied me when we were in high school. I swore that one day I would have my revenge, and killing his family seemed like a pretty suitable idea."
"If we weren't on the same page, I'd say you were sick."
I grinned evily. "I am sick. And I love it."