CHAPTER 2:

"Hey Arnold!"

Young Arnold Phillip Shortman left his boarding home to be greeted by his best friend, Gerald Johanssen. This was a routine they've done for nearly half a decade, Arnold walked down his steps with a grin on his face to do his traditional handshake with Gerald. After doing said handshake, the two began walking toward the bus stop.

"Man, what a crazy night last night, huh?" Gerald said, causing Arnold to raise an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?"

Gerald stopped dead in his tracks, "You're kidding right?"

"Uh, no? Why? Did something happen?"

"You haven't heard?!" Gerald yelled, causing Arnold to quickly shush him, "No! Now tell me what's going on already!" Arnold replied, causing Gerald to sigh.

"Rhonda was killed last night."

Arnold's pupils shrunk, "What?"

"She and her bodyguard were found dead, with their insides out. Rhonda was hung on a tree with her organs instead of a rope. Sick stuff dude!"

Arnold tried his absolute best to not puke at that description, "Gerald, please."

"Alright, alright! Well, school's cancelled."

"Huh? Why?"

Gerald rolled his eyes, "Because there was a murder yesterday man! They're questioning everyone!" Arnold frowned, "They think that someone at school did it?" he asked.

Gerald shrugged, "I dunno, probably!"

As the two young boys walked, Arnold suddenly bumped into a VERY familiar individual.

"Oof!"

"Oof!"

It was Helga G. Pataki, the dictator of the Fourth Grade, "Watch where you're going, Football head! Sheesh!" she yelled.

"Sorry Helga."

Helga snarled in response, "Yeah, you better be! Because if you aren't, I'll make you!" And with that, she stomped off. Gerald blinked.

"Mmm, mmm, mmm! If I were the police, I'd check on that girl right away!"

Arnold rolled his eyes, "Gerald, she's not that bad."

Gerald held his hands up in defence, "Hey man, I'm just sayin! She's very, well, aggressive."

"That doesn't make a murderer."

"Touche."

Sighing, Arnold ignored the thoughts on what happened to Rhonda and just kept on walking with Gerald. It wasn't long before they met up with the gang.

Stinky was the first to speak up, "Gee, out of all people, Rhonda was the last person I would expect to kick the bucket!" Lila, standing very closely to him, ribbed Stinky, "Stinky! That's oh so extremely rude of you!"

Blushing, Stinky rubbed the back of his head, "S-sorry, Lila."

Arnold frowned, "Now guys, just because Rhonda passed away doesn't mean we have to tal-"

"So, who do you think did it?"

"Not sure, but Harold has always given me some weird vibes about Rhonda!"

Harold spat out the piece of hamburger meat in his mouth out of sheer disgust, "WHAAAAAT?! MEEEE?!" he whined, "I WOULDN'T NEVUH HURT RHONDAAAA."

"Oh yeah, how would we know?" asked Sid.

Harold sighed in annoying fashion, "BECAUUUUUUUUUSE, I WAS WITH MY MOMMY AT NIGHT!" he replied, but not waving away Helga's suspicion, "Oh yeah? Was that before or after you SLICED AND DICED?"

"Now guys," Arnold said, trying to break the tension, "we need to let the police handle this! We're just kids, we'd have no ways of doing such a thing!"

Phoebe nodded in agreement, "I agree, it just doesn't seem possible for someone our age to be able to do something like that."

Later that night, Arnold was trying to sleep. But he was incapable of doing so! He tossed and turned, tried to calm himself down, nothing worked. Sighing, he went downstairs to grab a glass of milk.

But as he poured the glass, the phone rang.

Raising an eyebrow due to the late time, he answered, "Hello?"

"Hello, Arnold."

Arnold stopped, "Who is this?"

"I'm just trying to get someone to talk to. It's scary, with all the murders and all."

Arnold rolled his eyes, "Very funny, Helga. Nice try with the voice changer and everything. Be more original next time, alright?"

"That would be pretty funny if not for the fact that I'M NOT HELGA."

"Yeah, sure. Then who are you exactly?"

"The question isn't 'who am I', the question is 'where am I'."

Arnold giggled, "So, 'not Helga', where are you?"

"On your front porsche."

Raising an eyebrow, Arnold quickly headed to the front door and opened it. There was nothing. Rolling his eyes, he closed the door, "Cute, Helga. Very cute."

"Do you want to die, Arnold? Your parents sure didn't."

Arnold spat out his milk. This WASN'T Helga. Helga might've been low, but she wasn't that low. "S-screw you!" he yelled, locking the door. However the danger wasn't outside, it was inside.

In no time, the man with an identical description ran out of the closet with a knife and lunged at Arnold. With no time to think, Arnold tripped and collapsed to the ground, the killer following suite. He clenched the knife with fury, meaning this could be personal. But who had Arnold wronged before? Arnold kicked the man off of him and made a break for the stairs. He yelled for everyone to call the police.

Arnold looked back expecting an attack, but saw that nobody was chasing after him anymore, and that the door was still open. The killer escaped.

A few minutes later, all of 4040 Vine Street was covered with police. Every human on the block was being questioned about the incident. Arnold was forced out of the boarding home, for it was now set for investigating purposes. For now, the borders would need to live elsewhere.

Three hotel rooms were bought out for each. Oskar and Suzie shared one, Ernie and Mr. Hyunh shared another and Arnold shared the last one with his grandparents. The entire situation was something out of a nightmare, "So Shortman," Phil said, breaking the ice, "what did you see?"

Arnold sighed, "I-I don't know, Grandpa. He was like something out of a scary movie. It was horrifying."

Phil frowned at his grandson's depression, "It's fine, Arnold. He's gone. The man can't hurt you anymore." Arnold smiled at this statement.

However, his happiness didn't last long, as his grandmother called for him,

"Yes, grandma?"

"It's for you, Tex." she said, handing the phone over to him.

Arnold raised an eyebrow at this. For him? At this time? "Hello?"

"Hello, Arnold."

Arnold froze, "No! NO! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"Did you think we were through? How foolish!" And just like that, he hung up.

Arnold began to tear up, why was this happening? Who would do something like this to him?

Little did he know he was being watched, studied, calculated from afar. "Soon, Arnold."

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Poor Arnold! Who do you think did it! Comment.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!