A/N: I know it's untitled at the moment, but I hope it won't stay that way for long… if you have an idea, Instant Message girl of music or RoCkYHoRoRShOW. Thanx! ^-^ Oh yes! This is my first Rocky fic, so bare with me. ^_^;;
Everyone had appeared to be in their separate rooms. The castle remained dark and black. Janet, dressed only in her underwear from her experience with Rocky, crept down the spiraling stairs to the 'lobby' where the party had taken place.
It was deserted. Almost. A sickening sound pieced the silence surrounding her, and she crept closer, peering around a corner. The darkness made it hard to see, but a window was almost open and the moonlight came through, silhouetting the figures.
After a few moments of adjusting to the miniscule amount of light, Janet tried not to scream. The sight became quite clear. Too clear. Biting her lip, she grabbed onto the wall corner tighter, assuring that she would not fall.
By Frank's throne, a pile of something came slowly into view. Bodies. It was a pile of bodies. Finally thankful for not wearing high heels, she stepped forward a little to get maybe a closer look. Of course, the only way to get a perfectly clear view was to walk and actually see.
Then a figure appeared. Someone, short hair and high heels, appeared from the shadows. Janet sincerely hoped that the person had not noticed her small figure peering into the large room.
They didn't seem to at the moment. In their hand, an outline appeared of a very long object and something resembling a knife. The high heels clinked again the floor. The corset being worn glimmered in the moonlight, and the colour of the heels was black in the darkness.
Janet, eyes wide and mouth kept shut tight, leaned even farther around. The pile of bodies, she guessed, were those of the Transylvainans she had seen and met earlier, when her and Brad had first arrived. She noted that she did not see the crazy hair of Magenta, the hunched back of Riff, the sequin top of Columbia, nor any sign of fishnets.
The person who was also there stood over the bodies, making the other object in their hand quite clear. A whip. They carried a knife and whip. Janet, so caught up in the scene, finally got a good, clear view of who the killer had to be. As all of it hit her, she fell, crashing to the floor.
Curling up as soon as she fell, she prayed that the person did not notice her. She heard the high heels. Turning around. The person had heard. Getting to her hands and knees, Janet turned around the corner once more and saw the person, crouching with the knife in hand, ready to attack. Turning around in circles, checking every corner.
Then they saw. Janet had made her herself unfortunately known. The high heels once again started walking towards Janet, eyes locking with the head of the figure. Collecting herself, Janet stood up, glancing backwards for a way to escape.
The figure stopped moving. And beckoned for her to come forward. Janet did not. She remained on her ground. Then, they placed the knife on the floor in a non-threatening matter; and beckoned again.
Janet, still fearing for her safety, took a few nervous steps forward. Once she was a few feet in front, she got a good look at their face.
The usually neat makeup was smeared. The lipstick was half on and half off. The hair, surprisingly, remained the in same fashion.
She looked in fear. Pulling up her bra strap, she spoke. Very softly.
"Why?" her voice trembled so, she could even hear it herself. Running her fingers through her hair proved her nervousness.
The person leaned close. The hot breath steamed her face. "If you dare speak of this, I shall be forced to kill you, too," the raspy voice breathed. Janet got a good look into their eyes - radiant with crazed anger and wicked joy. Taking the whip in their left hand, they cracked it, loud. Janet cringed, had anyone awoke?
"Yes, I promise…" she said back, hoping that her life was now spared. The necklace they wore was barely noticeable, but she noticed it not wanting to look in their eyes.
"Or, my dear, you will end up like them…" a hand came up and caressed her check. The touch was icy cold; Janet shuttered - the hand that was delicately touching her face was the same hand that held a murderous knife only moments ago. "Now go!" They roughly pushed her backwards, causing her to trip. Janet regained her balance as the figure walked away again. They picked up the knife and walked over to the single small window across the room and looked at the moonlight, apparently intrigued with the Earth.
As Janet turned around to return to Rocky upstairs, she turned around to see the person disposing of the bodies - carrying them one by one and throwing them out the window. She shuttered, and kept walking.
Although still startled by the events, she could not help but look back one last time. They had seemed to forget about the bodies for the time being, and went back to staring out into the night sky. Janet signed herself at the almost perfect picture. Almost.
Running her small hands through her short red hair, Columbia let a mournful sign escape her lips.