12:01 am
Jughead slaps his hand against Rickie's face. He had gotten his boys to roughen him up, but he wanted the satisfaction of doing it himself. His nose was already pouring blood out of it. "Don't you think you've done enough?" Sweetpea asks.
"No," Jughead roars. "I want to make sure he feels pain for what he has done."
"It was an accident," Fangs adds.
"I don't care," Jughead shouts. They had been attacking the boy for the past twenty minutes. Jughead gave him another swift kick to the ribs, and his phone began to vibrate. He pulled out his phone and froze.
"Who is this?" Sweatpea asks.
"Death-cast," Jughead states. "Keep an eye on him. I'll be right back."
Jughead stepped away from the trio. Rickie was still riving in pain on the floor. Jughead picks up the phone and runs his hand through his hair. "Hello?" the lady asked. "Is this Forsythe Pendleton Jones the 3rd?"
"Yes," Jughead says.
"I've called to inform you that, in the next twenty-four hours, you will meet your untimely demise," the lady explains solemnly. "I can't tell you when exactly you're going to die, but we can tell you about fun ways you can spend your last day."
Jughead notes that she still had a sad tone in her voice. He had been with people when they got the call, and the person on the other end was usually emotionless. He figured that this lady was probably new to the job.
"I don't care about whatever festivities are going on today," Jughead snaps. "I have better ways to spend my final twenty-four hours. Just answer me this one, simple question: how do you guys do it? How do you know when someone is going to die?"
"I'm sorry, but I can't tell you," she says. "I have signed an oath of silence."
"So you know how you guys do it?" Jughead asks. "Just tell me. I was already having a bad enough day before you called. You can at least do me a solid, and answer my question. I won't tell anyone about it."
"You want to tell me about having a bad day?" the lady asks, raising her voice. "I just got off the phone with a lady who screamed at me, about how she was no longer going to be a mother because her four-year-old daughter just became a Decker. Don't tell me about having a bad day."
Deckers is what they call the people who get the call. If you can prove that you're one, people often get discounts or get free things. There are even businesses for Deckor's to have final big experiences that have been modified to be completely safe, yet giving them the same thrill.
"I'm sorry," Jughead mummers. The call then ends, and Jughead turns to face his friends and Rickie. He walks over to Rickie and grabs his collar. "Listen. I'm going to let you go. I'm a decker, and I have better ways to spend my last day. You won't go to the police, or else I'll send my gang after you. Got it?"
Rickie nods quickly, and Jughead releases his collar. Rickie ran off into the night. "So you're a Decker," Sweatpea says, causing Jughead to snap his head around. "It's going to be weird without you."
"You'll survive," Jughead shrugs. "But I won't."
"Too soon man," Fangs says.
"Might as well laugh while we can," Jughead says, with another shrug. "Let's hop on our bikes and go to the Whyte Worm. I need to have a serpent meeting."
Sweetpea and Fangs followed Jughead to their bikes. They climbed onto their motorcycles, and they drove off. They went to the Whyte Worm, the serpent's main hangout/favorite bar.
Most of the serpents were in the bar. Sweetpea and Fangs joined the crowd as Jughead walked to the stage. "Listen up," Jughead says. Everyone turns to face him. Jughead is serpent royalty. When he speaks, everyone listens. "I'm a Decker now. This means by this time tomorrow, I'll be dead."
"Don't mourn me," Jughead instructs. "When I'm gone, move on with your life. I only have one request for you guys before I die."
"Anything Jug," Sweatpea says.
"Gather up all of the serpents," Jughead says. "I want to see my own funeral."