Sequence

Chapter 4: Wreaking Havoc

"Who the fuck are you?" I yelled, threateningly, to the white mass surrounding me. The air was cold and chilling, as I frantically paced the room. I was losing my mind. I knew it.

Silence greeted me in return.

"Stay away from her!" I continued. He was here somewhere. I could sense his damned eerie presence. "I mean it. If I find out that you have laid one bloody finger-"

"Shh…"

I abided by his orders, clamping my mouth shut firmly. My jaw set tightly.

"Patience, Slater, is a virtue."

"What the hell are you on about?" I countered, demandingly, my anger getting the best of me.

"In time, things will become clear. Patience is what you need for now. She's safe, at the minute, but if you do anything irrational, I'm afraid that this urge to … cause destruction and havoc … and maybe even demise, will be let loose."

His voice was so calm, and the tone almost amused, subsequently, this infuriated my burning rage. This guy was the one that should be locked up; not me. He was completely fucked up.

"What things?" I demanded.

"Patience, Slater, is a virtue." He repeated coolly.

I breathed in, deeply and evenly, in and out.

"You can't stop playing yet. It's only starting to get exciting."

"Stop playing what?" I threw my head back so that I was staring at the ceiling and shut my eyes, blacking out the whiteness.

"My game."

I blanched and swallowed, hard.

"This is a game to you? You torture people for your own bloody amusement, do you?" It was getting colder. I was loosing all feeling in my lower limbs, as they dangled carelessly over the edge of the white bed.

I pulled the sheets tighter to my body.

"It's a little more than that, but yes, that's the basics." he chuckled.

A sudden shiver raced down my spine before anger immersed me completely.

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"Nancy…"

"No, don't touch me." Nancy Slater jolted away from her husband's touch, her eyes widened and still fastened to the glass pane in front of her, as she stared through the mirrored window, which gave her a perfect view of her eldest son.

A sharp, frustrating pain was constricting her chest, impairing her breaths and causing her respiration to become infrequent and irregular.

Paul moved swiftly about the room, his arms and legs rapidly diving through the air in sharp movements. His hands cut through the thin air before he thoughtlessly slammed his right fist into the far wall, not flinching once from the immense pain that she knew he would be experiencing.

Her vision blurred as tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill from their rims as she watched her hazy son incessantly and relentlessly hammer furious fists into the wall.

Beside her, her husband stared at the ceiling whilst running trembling hands through his dark hair. When he cast his eyes back down again, and through the tinted window in front of him, he inhaled deeply.

Rick Slater watched as his son struggled against the guards, thrusting against their movements, and trying, persistently, to escape.

"He's been talking to himself for quite some time now." A doctor said cautiously. Nancy, still rigid and fearsome, remained immobile as Rick turned to face the psychoanalyst.

"It's only been two weeks. What do you mean by 'quite some time'?" Rick inquired, irately. He eyed his wife, whose shoulders were now shaking uncontrollably as silent sobs quaked her body.

"For about a week, Mr Slater, Paul has been acting disorderly, like you have witnessed today." The specialist shook his head gently, "I'm afraid if this continues, we're going to have to move him to another department, where we can get him the appropriate help for his deep psychological issues."

Nancy's knees buckled beneath her and she fell to the ground, a loud thump resounding in the room from where she hit the marble flooring and pained cries escaping from her frail lips. For once, her reputation wasn't the only thing on her mind.

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I hid in the corner of the room, ensuring that I was completely out of view. The last rays of the setting sun poured in through the bay window, casting elegant patterns of deep purple and red hues onto the wall opposite. I sunk to my knees, basking in the darkness that was currently drenching me and cast my eyes on the couple ahead.

Anger surged up from within, threatening to overflow and cause some serious damage. The view in front was completely sickening.

His arms wrapped, protectively, around her small body, effectively pulling hers close to his own as his head tilted down, close to hers.

"Querida," he said peering down at her, lovingly; I grimaced. Why would she choose someone like him? He was so monotonous.

A cold wrath inside of me was trying, relentlessly, to let loose, and I was so close to letting go. I wanted this boy to feel the powerful rage of hell.

And I was now fully capable of that. I smirked. How I loved being cold and calculated.

Suze's eyes snapped open to stare at the Latino boy in front of her, "Jesse?" she asked as her eyebrows raised subtlety.

"Do you know what day it is?" His head slanted further towards hers, his mouth only millimetres from hers.

"Yes. Thursday." She leant up, her back arching slightly as she moved nearer, and captured his lips in hers.

I blinked, longingly, as a desire to be in the Spanish boy's position filled my body. It took all my strength to control my irrational urges. However, I wouldn't do anything to spoil my plans, not after all that I'd done to get this far. I'd get exactly what I wanted in the end anyway.

"Indeed," his English was carefully laced with a Spanish tone, and his voice gratingly irritating to my ears. "And do you know what you're meant to do today?" He asked each time they pulled apart.

Suze's hand coursed up his chest, her fingers winding around the cotton of his shirt before grabbing his collar in a tight hold. I clenched my fists, furiously. "Yes, I know very well, that it has been two weeks since … well, you know. Nevertheless … I thought that you didn't-" She paused in her sentence as she pulled her arm to her chest, successfully hauling Jesse in with her, and kissing him fervently. "Care about Paul." She breathed, huskily.

"I don't." He answered evenly as he twirled a strand of her dark hair around his finger, and smirked slightly before pushing Suze onto the bed and continuing their heated session.

I grit my teeth in pent up frustration and focused on my next destination, before materialising.

I would get what I wanted in the end, and for that to happen… Jesse had to go.

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Jack ran off the pitch, drenched in sweat and panting for air. He reached the edge quickly, and shook his head, before running a trembling hand through his hair, consequently tousling his dark curly locks.

I smiled, knowingly.

"They're so cute together." I turned slightly, to look at Tracy who was staring down at Jack and the small blonde haired girl beside him, who was grinning, almost manically as he talked to her.

"They are." I agreed, "Katie's totally wild about him, I've never seen her so happy. She's ecstatic; bounces around at home, protesting that she's in love and driving mom crazy." I tugged the elastic band from my hair, letting the blonde locks drop down onto my shoulders.

"Pity about his brother though," Tracy continued as she tugged off her sweater and draped it across her shoulders. "He was seriously hot. I mean … 'you would' hot."

I laughed and hauled my brush out of my bag, picking out a few stray hairs from between the bristles before dragging it through my hair. "Paul? Yeah, I liked him; he was always nice when I called round to his house. I don't believe he did it though."

"You don't?" Tracy tore her eyes away from the pitch ahead and away from the Robert Louis Stevenson basketball players that she had been shamelessly eyeing, "Becka, who else could have done it? He was found in the room with her, at the time!"

I shrugged, indifferently, "I just don't believe he did it, it's just one of those feelings, you know? Anyways, she easily could have done it herself. I mean … if Paul Slater broke up with you, how would you feel?"

"Suicidal." She answered, compliantly, twisting her body on the stands, so that she was now fully facing me. I tucked my hairbrush back into my bag and grabbed my lip-gloss.

"Precisely. It's like a Bryce Martinson and Heather - whatever-her-name-was – act." I applied the gloss carefully, cautious not to smear it and inserted it back into my bag. "Besides I don't think that Paul's capable of something as cold as murder." I pouted my lips as I gazed into my hand-held mirror. Perfect.

"What, exactly, did you two do when you went round to his? He must have swayed you quite a bit to make you deny belief in his homicide." Exclaimed Tracy. I sighed, dramatically.

"Nothing happened, I just dropped by to pick up Katie, and he just so happened to answer the door and talk to me till Katie got down." Tidying my things quickly into my bag, I threw Tracy a smile before standing up and throwing it over my shoulder.

"Really?" she asked, sceptically.

"Yes. Really." I rolled my eyes at her disbelief.

"You're leaving already? How come?" She enquired, turning her attention back to the senior basketball players.

"Yeah, I don't really feel like hanging around here. Sorry. Plus, there's a guy over there who's catching my attention." I grinned, and nodded to the corner of the pitch, where there stood a tall, dark and extremely handsome guy. He leant coolly against the wall, one arm balanced on the ledge and the other dangling casually by his side.

Tracy sucked in a deep breath and made an approving face. "Oh, nice. Very nice. You have got to spill the details later, 'kay?"

I nodded, "Why? Because you want to make a move on him if I don't?"

"Spot on."

I turned, carefully making my way down the stands, one by one, wary not to lose my balance and make a fool of myself, especially since I was in my new Calvin Klein skirt.

As I made it to the bottom, I looked up at the guy whom I had noticed before, to find him staring at me; pale, enchanting green eyes, mesmerising, and piercing straight through me. I swallowed, unable to move under the intensity of his gaze as he moved towards me, somewhat resembling a tiger, stalking his prey.

"Hi," I greeted, once he was within hearing distance.

He smirked, his lips jerking up slightly, "Hi." He mimicked, almost mockingly. I resisted the urge to frown in confusion.

"Are you new here?" I sustained, trying to spark the conversation.

He nodded his head gently and held out a strong, muscular hand, "Chaos."

I hesitated, "Chaos?" I repeated, unsurely in an almost whisper.

"Yes." He grinned, crookedly, looking amused, "My name … is Chaos, and yours is …?"

"Oh… oh right," I felt the heat rise quickly to my cheeks. "I'm Becka; nice to meet you."

Chaos … what a strange name.

"So, do you go to RLS?" I asked, eventually tearing my eyes away from his and moving towards the school gates.

As I had planned, he followed, catching up quickly with his large strides and falling into place beside me.

"RLS?" he asked, somewhat confused.

"Robert Louis Stevenson. This school." I elaborated, sneaking a quick glance at him. He was stunning, no really, stunning. His dark hair fell casually over his eyes in glossy wisps as he stared nonchalantly ahead.

"No." he answered steadily, his glowing eyes briefly flickering in my direction before a dark smirk appeared on his lips.

I blushed. "Junipero Serra?"

"No."

"Oh," I replied, "So what age are you then?" This was getting kind of awkward.

He looked thoughtful for a moment as I stared at him from my peripheral vision through the corner of my eye.

"Nineteen." I nodded. Cool! A college guy! Who's totally interested in me!

"Seventeen, right?" He peered down at me from his height, and I suddenly felt small.

"Yeah. It's my last year. Thank God."

"So… would you happen to know Suze Simon?" He asked, suddenly, catching me off guard. Where, exactly, did that question fit into our conversation?

"Suze Simon …" I had heard that name before, but from whom? … Tad Beaumont! "Yeah, I know of her, but I don't personally know her. Why?"

"I was just wondering." His voice was so enticing, deep, and husky in a masculine kind of way.

"I'd heard of her from a guy I used to know, Tad, he'd dated her once. Honestly, if I had have met her, I don't think that I would have liked her very much. She seems very … sluttish." Like that Debbie girl, god, she was so irritating.

Chaos grimaced and fell to a stop; I stopped too and turned to stare at him.

"Sorry, do you know her?" I apologized. God, I could be so stupid at times. Of course he did. What if she was his girlfriend? Damn.

He shook his head lightly, his unruly, dark brown hair swaying on his forehead, "Not really."

I frowned, "Okay."

Silence.

"So what do you want to do?" I asked after a few short – yet excruciating – minutes.

He shrugged, his long shoulders lifting casually into the air.

"We could hang out at my house if you'd like?" I invited, smiling vaguely.

His eyes flashed wantonly, and for a second I didn't trust myself. I didn't trust myself around this guy, something about him just seemed slightly out of place. However, it passed quickly and I shrugged it off as paranoia.

What harm could he do?

"Sure," he replied, his voice somewhat deeper than before and a sexy, roguish grin apparent on his full lips. I smiled.

"Cool."

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"Hey, how are you?" I swept my annoying dark curls back, out of my eyes, with an unsteady hand.

"Umm … okay. You?"

She smiled, and I fought the urge to smile back. Katie's smiles were contagious. She was constantly bubbly and cheerful, always laughing and smiling at everything … everyone. One reason that I had liked her so much, and maybe the fact that she was the prettiest girl that I had ever met, helped.

"I'm great. I haven't seen you in a while though," She frowned and my heart plummeted, "it's like you're avoiding me. Are you, Jack?"

I hesitated.

"You are. It's what my mom said, right?" Her bright blue eyes were fading slowly as she stared at me, waiting for an answer.

I nodded. "Katie, I'm sorry, it's just that everyone's acting so weird around me now. Almost as if I'm going to turn around and-"

"Kill them." She finished for me and I unintentionally flinched. She lifted a hand and rested it on my shoulder, her eyes suddenly looking teary. "Don't listen to them, Jack. I don't believe what anybody says about you, or your brother. Neither does Becka."

"Yeah, but Katie, the guys," I gestured to behind me, where the junior basketball team sat on the benches, half watching the seniors play, the other half glaring daggers at my back. I could feel each of their eyes glaring into me. "They all hate me. Nobody even passes me the ball anymore, even though I am the captain." I sighed.

"Maybe they do … hate you that is," she dithered, "but their opinions don't matter. Only the people who really care about you do."

"Yeah. You're right." How was she so smart for a girl of her age?

"Good. So are you coming out tonight?"

"No, sorry, my parents are out …" I hesitated before adding, in a whisper, "They're with Paul."

Katie nodded understandingly and smiled forcefully.

"Okay, well, I'll see you around."

As I watched her retreating back disappear into the school again, a strong pang of regret hit me suddenly, and an overwhelming wave of sadness drowned me in misery.

This was going to be a long week.

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The phone rang abruptly, startling me from my concentration and I snapped my eyes open, groaning in frustration.

Dammit. I was so close.

After a few seconds, the irritating ring came to a stop. I figured that someone downstairs had answered it.

I closed my eyes again, breathing in deeply and composing my thoughts.

Think, Suze, of Paul, the white rooms, the white objects. White.

"Suze!"

I growled and stormed to my door, swinging the wood with an angry tug almost off its hinges.

"What?" I demanded.

"Phone for you. I'll transfer it to your line." Andy called up to me.

"Thanks," I half murmured.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, feeling extremely pissed off.

Hey! Can you blame me? I've been in my room for the past two weeks - during all of my spare time - trying to master this damned shifting trick for Paul. Paul!

Why do I even bother? I could be at the beach … topping up my tan. But no … Suze has to go bust her homicidal 'friend' from mental rehab.

Paul owes me. Big time. I hope he doesn't just cancel out this debt by offing me though.

I slapped my head with my palm.

Bad Suze!

Walking to my phone, I picked up the receiver once the ringing began.

"Hello?" I asked, wearily. It had been a long day, shut up.

"Suze! Hey. Long time no see …nor hear."

I laughed. "Hey Cee Cee, sorry, I've been caught up with other … things."

"As per usual. Anyways, how about you spare a little time for your friends? Remember us, Adam and Cee?"

"And me!" I heard Adam yell from the background. I frowned.

"Adam, you moron, I already said you." Cee Cee whispered to him, "So," she said, turning her attention back to me, "how about you meet us down at the coffee clutch in about thirty minutes?"

"Yeah, sure thing. I'll see you then." I answered, feeling somewhat relieved. Any chance to give myself a break from this strenuous training. Seriously, it's totally wearing.

"Oh, and have you seen this new guy in town?" Cee Cee asked, almost excitedly.

"No. Who is it?" I twisted the cord around my finger, uninterestedly.

"I'm not sure, although, I heard he's the girls' new eye candy."

I snorted. "Doesn't take much though, does it? Anyways, I'll see you guys in thirty."

I hung up and frowned down at the receiver. New guy? I wonder … could it be the one from the cemetery?

Maybe.

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"Hey … Trace?"

"What's up, Becka?" I paused for a second, adjusting the position of the receiver, which was currently resting between my ear and shoulder as I painted my nails. "I saw you talking to that guy, so how is he?"

"Scary." She replied, bluntly. I froze, my pink, frosted nail polish dripping onto my table, as I tried to comprehend what she had just alleged.

"Scary?" I repeated, uncertainly.

"Yes. He acts really strange, and yet, he's so addictive … I can't get enough of him. It's almost as if I'm already … infatuated."


A/N – Whoa … Long chapter, eh? Well for this story it is. And I'm dreadfully sorry for the wait … no really, I am!

Anyways, thanks for the reviews! Love you guys:-

-bbblfl - Lol. No not quite her son lol, and not from the future, but I love that idea anyways and would totally use it if I hadn't already planned this lol.

-Querida1607 – Lol. Okay, (smiles) well, in this fic I'm not too sure about the pairings, but it'll all work out in the end – hopefully.

-ceecee star pops – Lol, yeah cliffies are annoying, but we writers love using them! And you should know lol. Awww, yay, a horror movie and suspense, how cool! Thanks, I really loved your review!

-Tangopepperoni – Yes, I know, this wasn't a quick update, but my internet was down for months … I nearly died lol.

-DemonicBallerinaThanks so much. Yeah, I just decided to take a different turn in this story with Paul. But don't worry, I want make him out of character, nobody has to know that he feels like that in the inside, especially not Suze.