Arnold answered the phone with a soft yawn, he had been taking a nap
when he heard the phone ring. "Hello?" He asked groggily, as he ran his
hand through his long blonde hair. At first he didn't hear anything then
the faint sobbing began on the other line. The sobbing continued. "Hello?
Who's there? Why are you crying?" He questioned, wiping the sleep from his
eyes. Finally, Helga's cracked voice replied:
"Something's happened to Nadine. I-I heard her... I heard A-Arnie say sh-she h-had to d-die... She said something about him m-murdering Rhonda before sh-she went silent..." After this was said neither spoke a word. A few minutes of silence passed, Arnold thoughtful, Helga frightened.
"Helga, will you be all right if I go over to Rhonda's house and check on her? If you hear anything else just call Phoebe and she can help okay?"
"O-okay." She agreed hesitantly. "Arnold?" She whispered softly, trembling. She cleared her throat nervously as Arnold replied:
"Yes?"
"Be careful. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you," After a moment she added, forcing a faint smile although he could not see it, "Football- Head." The nickname brought a soft smile to his face as he put a jacket on.
"I'll remember that Helga. And trust me, with someone like you waiting for me I wouldn't dare to get hurt. Take care of yourself Helga, I'll call you when I get back." He cradled the phone on the receiver then called Gerald to meet him outside of Rhonda's house.
~*~*~*~*~
Gerald stood outside the house nervously pacing back and forth, waiting for Arnold. He didn't like this one bit! Arnold explained the whole thing to him, what Helga said about Nadine calling her supposedly from Rhonda's house. "I dunno, muh man..." He said after a long silence. "I just don't know about you anymore."
"What is there you don't know about me, Gerald?" Arnold asked as he ran up to Gerald, panting slightly. Gerald whipped around to face Arnold then blinked a few times. "What?"
"Can we get this over with? I'm freaking out over here, and it's gonna make my great hair go gray." Gerald made a face at the thought as he ran his hand through his hair he was so proud of. Arnold nodded and knocked on the door. They waited about 5 minutes before Arnold reached for the doorknob and opened the door. They proceeded to Rhonda's room, looking for anything strange. "Arnold!" Gerald cried. "Look!" He held up a bubble-gum wrapper, French bubble-gum. Arnie's favorite. "Uh-oh..."
"C'mon." Arnold said, and opened Rhonda's door. Inside the room was in a total array. Her table was knocked over with the lamp on the ground beside the bed. The bed's canopy had tears in it where it appeared someone had clung onto it, trying desperately not to let go. Clothes were everywhere, even hanging on the windowsill. And in the middle of the room lay a prone body, Rhonda Wellington Lloyd. Gerald's eyes went wide open and he covered his mouth to hold his vomit in, holding his breath. Arnold knelt at Rhonda's side and felt for a pulse. She was growing cold, there was no pulse. Trembling, Arnold stood up and was about to lead Gerald out of the room when something caught his attention.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Arnold's brow furrowed as he tensed up. It was apparent Gerald heard the sound as well. "Where's it coming from?" Arnold questioned Gerald. His best friend shrugged and backed up towards the door nervously.
"I don't think I want to know, man." Gerald replied-but Arnold heard it again.
"It's coming from the closet!" Arnold hissed. Gerald leapt at Arnold and grabbed his hand just as Arnold's hand touched the closet doorknob. "What are you doing, Gerald?"
"Don't open it Arnold." Gerald warned him cautiously. "You've seen all the movies, you KNOW what will be there."
"But, Gerald... What if it's Nadine? Nadine called from here... What if she's hurt or what if she's hiding and doesn't know Arnie's gone?"
"What do you think that dripping noise IS Arnold?" Gerald asked, paling faintly, his eyes widening as he looked down at the floor. "Oh, God..." Gerald hissed, covering his mouth again. A red puddle was forming on the ground, pouring out of the closet. Arnold opened the closet door then jumped back in fright. Gerald vomited on the ground then ran out of the room.
"Oh, God, Nadine..." He whimpered at the sight of the poor girl. Her body was maimed, pieces of her antinomy lay in a pile on the floor. There was a rope around her neck the hung her from the clothes rack in the closet. Her head hung to the side, staring at him through glazed eyes. He ran out of the room after Gerald.
Gerald stood outside leaning against the wall. He had vomited again behind a bush and was catching his breath as Arnold ran up. Arnold was whiter than he'd ever seen him before. Arnold could hardly speak, but his voice finally came through. "Let me have your cell phone." Gerald passed him the phone and Arnold called the police.
~*~*~*~*~
Phoebe sat in her room, writing in a notebook she'd had since she was 11. Whenever she was feeling melancholy, she'd pull out the notebook and write solemnly on the paper. It was her sanctuary. The one place she could put her innermost thoughts without worry someone would reprimand her or disagree. She sat with closed eyes a moment, then began to write another paragraph.
Phoebe's mother was at the hospital with her father, and Phoebe promised she'd have dinner cooked by the time her mother came home. She went downstairs and began to prepare a simple meal for herself and her mother when the phone rang. Phoebe, expecting Helga, answered, "Hello, Phoebe speaking?"
"Hello, Phoebe." A voice hissed on the other line.
"Gerald?"
"No, my dear, but it is someone similar to Gerald. For like Gerald, I took something you held quite dear hmm? That night was rather fun." The hair on the back of Phoebe's neck rose.
"Arnie." She hissed into the phone. "You bastard! What the Hell are you doing calling me?! I'll have this number traced! They'll find you."
"No, they'll find this number, my dear, but I'll be gone. And it will be too late. Watch over your precious lover." He hissed into the phone. "Because by the time they find this number, they'll be looking into what happened to your dear boyfriend."
"Arnie!" She hissed with wide eyes. "Don't you dare hurt Gerald! ARNIE! I swear to god if anything happens to him." But the only reply she got was the dial tone.
"Something's happened to Nadine. I-I heard her... I heard A-Arnie say sh-she h-had to d-die... She said something about him m-murdering Rhonda before sh-she went silent..." After this was said neither spoke a word. A few minutes of silence passed, Arnold thoughtful, Helga frightened.
"Helga, will you be all right if I go over to Rhonda's house and check on her? If you hear anything else just call Phoebe and she can help okay?"
"O-okay." She agreed hesitantly. "Arnold?" She whispered softly, trembling. She cleared her throat nervously as Arnold replied:
"Yes?"
"Be careful. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you," After a moment she added, forcing a faint smile although he could not see it, "Football- Head." The nickname brought a soft smile to his face as he put a jacket on.
"I'll remember that Helga. And trust me, with someone like you waiting for me I wouldn't dare to get hurt. Take care of yourself Helga, I'll call you when I get back." He cradled the phone on the receiver then called Gerald to meet him outside of Rhonda's house.
~*~*~*~*~
Gerald stood outside the house nervously pacing back and forth, waiting for Arnold. He didn't like this one bit! Arnold explained the whole thing to him, what Helga said about Nadine calling her supposedly from Rhonda's house. "I dunno, muh man..." He said after a long silence. "I just don't know about you anymore."
"What is there you don't know about me, Gerald?" Arnold asked as he ran up to Gerald, panting slightly. Gerald whipped around to face Arnold then blinked a few times. "What?"
"Can we get this over with? I'm freaking out over here, and it's gonna make my great hair go gray." Gerald made a face at the thought as he ran his hand through his hair he was so proud of. Arnold nodded and knocked on the door. They waited about 5 minutes before Arnold reached for the doorknob and opened the door. They proceeded to Rhonda's room, looking for anything strange. "Arnold!" Gerald cried. "Look!" He held up a bubble-gum wrapper, French bubble-gum. Arnie's favorite. "Uh-oh..."
"C'mon." Arnold said, and opened Rhonda's door. Inside the room was in a total array. Her table was knocked over with the lamp on the ground beside the bed. The bed's canopy had tears in it where it appeared someone had clung onto it, trying desperately not to let go. Clothes were everywhere, even hanging on the windowsill. And in the middle of the room lay a prone body, Rhonda Wellington Lloyd. Gerald's eyes went wide open and he covered his mouth to hold his vomit in, holding his breath. Arnold knelt at Rhonda's side and felt for a pulse. She was growing cold, there was no pulse. Trembling, Arnold stood up and was about to lead Gerald out of the room when something caught his attention.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Arnold's brow furrowed as he tensed up. It was apparent Gerald heard the sound as well. "Where's it coming from?" Arnold questioned Gerald. His best friend shrugged and backed up towards the door nervously.
"I don't think I want to know, man." Gerald replied-but Arnold heard it again.
"It's coming from the closet!" Arnold hissed. Gerald leapt at Arnold and grabbed his hand just as Arnold's hand touched the closet doorknob. "What are you doing, Gerald?"
"Don't open it Arnold." Gerald warned him cautiously. "You've seen all the movies, you KNOW what will be there."
"But, Gerald... What if it's Nadine? Nadine called from here... What if she's hurt or what if she's hiding and doesn't know Arnie's gone?"
"What do you think that dripping noise IS Arnold?" Gerald asked, paling faintly, his eyes widening as he looked down at the floor. "Oh, God..." Gerald hissed, covering his mouth again. A red puddle was forming on the ground, pouring out of the closet. Arnold opened the closet door then jumped back in fright. Gerald vomited on the ground then ran out of the room.
"Oh, God, Nadine..." He whimpered at the sight of the poor girl. Her body was maimed, pieces of her antinomy lay in a pile on the floor. There was a rope around her neck the hung her from the clothes rack in the closet. Her head hung to the side, staring at him through glazed eyes. He ran out of the room after Gerald.
Gerald stood outside leaning against the wall. He had vomited again behind a bush and was catching his breath as Arnold ran up. Arnold was whiter than he'd ever seen him before. Arnold could hardly speak, but his voice finally came through. "Let me have your cell phone." Gerald passed him the phone and Arnold called the police.
~*~*~*~*~
Phoebe sat in her room, writing in a notebook she'd had since she was 11. Whenever she was feeling melancholy, she'd pull out the notebook and write solemnly on the paper. It was her sanctuary. The one place she could put her innermost thoughts without worry someone would reprimand her or disagree. She sat with closed eyes a moment, then began to write another paragraph.
Phoebe's mother was at the hospital with her father, and Phoebe promised she'd have dinner cooked by the time her mother came home. She went downstairs and began to prepare a simple meal for herself and her mother when the phone rang. Phoebe, expecting Helga, answered, "Hello, Phoebe speaking?"
"Hello, Phoebe." A voice hissed on the other line.
"Gerald?"
"No, my dear, but it is someone similar to Gerald. For like Gerald, I took something you held quite dear hmm? That night was rather fun." The hair on the back of Phoebe's neck rose.
"Arnie." She hissed into the phone. "You bastard! What the Hell are you doing calling me?! I'll have this number traced! They'll find you."
"No, they'll find this number, my dear, but I'll be gone. And it will be too late. Watch over your precious lover." He hissed into the phone. "Because by the time they find this number, they'll be looking into what happened to your dear boyfriend."
"Arnie!" She hissed with wide eyes. "Don't you dare hurt Gerald! ARNIE! I swear to god if anything happens to him." But the only reply she got was the dial tone.