"Ems, hey Ems! Guess what?" whispered Madison.
"What is it, Mads?" said Emma.
"Jake told me he just heard the loser girl's voice from inside the locker. You know what that means?"
Emma's eyes widened. "She's still in there?"
Madison nodded, her expression a mix of awe and fear. "I told you that was a dirty trick, what you told everyone, but holy shit. I think nobody reported it yet. Not a single one. It's like you have a superpower Emma."
"Oh God." gasped Emma. Then she laughed. "I am pretty spectacular aren't I? Good. This is proof that everyone gets it. They know who's the queen and who's the peasant here. Right Sophia?...Sophia? Sophia, are you okay?"
Sophia was leaning against the wall, bracing herself with her hands to keep herself from falling to the floor. She blinked, squinted up at Emma and pushed herself upright. "Agh. Thought I saw...nevermind. Must have pushed myself too hard on my morning run."
"Hey, don't push yourself too hard." said Emma, putting a hand on Sophia's shoulder. "I know track team is serious business for you, but you don't want to be worn out when it's time to take care of real business."
"Touched that you care, Ems." said Sophia. "Don't worry about me. I've got it handled."
"If you say so." said Emma.
"Um." said Madison. "Listen. Do you guys think we should get her out of there?" She leaned forward and spoke in an urgent whisper. "We could get in so much trouble. What if she gets crippled? My mom told me what happens to people who get trapped in confined places. What if loser girl goes crazy and twisted in there. Like what if she scratches her eyes out or something, or tries to claw her way out and tears off her fingernails and gets an infection, or-"
"Whoa whoa whoa." said Sophia with a chuckle. "Scraches her eyes out? You're twisted too, Mads."
"Says you." said Madison. "Look, let's tell a teacher she's in there. We'll get credit for reporting it. Take off some of the heat."
"It sounds to me like you're chickening out." said Sophia. "Such a bad idea. That's how criminals get caught. Getting a case of the nerves and returning to the scene of the crime."
"Hmm..." said Emma. She looked between Madison and Sophia's faces. Then a smile came to her lips. "No, it's fine. There's no point in going to all this trouble if we don't get to see her face at the end. Can you imagine her expression? When she realizes that no one came to help her? That she only got out because of our mercy?"
Sophia chuckled and shook her head wonderingly. "Holy shit. You're a real piece of work, Ems."
"I try my best." said Emma with a wink. "I'll do the honors."
Emma made her way through the crowds of students in the hallways. As she drew near to Taylor's locker, she heard a series of loud bangs. Impacts against metal. There was a thin trickle of blood leaking from the ventilation slits near the top of the locker.
Shit, had Taylor been banging the back of her head against the locker door until it bled? It was just like Madison had said, she was going crazy in there. She was glad she had taken Madison's advice to end Taylor's ordeal. As decisive a display of power as it would have been, to drive Taylor insane in plain sight of the rest of the school, she didn't want it to end like that, for...she sighed. For a number of reasons.
Emma put a confident stride in her step as she walked up to the locker. She didn't have to worry about observers. The students passing by were doing their best to ignore the spectacle. Victims. The ones who were afraid of being next. They didn't want to get involved.
She peered in through the ventilation slits. It was dark inside the locker but she could make out a tangle of dark hair, matted with trickles of blood. The banging stopped. Taylor must have sensed that she was there, somehow. She put a smirk on her face.
"Taylor. Looks like you've gotten yourself into a tight spot."
There was no answer.
"It's so sad. So cruel." said Emma. Her voice was sickly sweet. "Someone stuffed an ugly smelly mess in your locker. And then they stuffed some bloody trash in there along with you. It's hard to tell the difference between the two by now. The resemblance is uncanny." She paused. "But don't worry, Tay. I'm sure one of your friends will be right along to let you out."
There was no answer.
"If you're such a loser you don't have any friends, though, you'll probably be stuck in there until lunch time." She paused, then gave a fake gasp. "Gee, Tay, do you think the kids in this school might leave you in there for an entire day?"
"Emma." came Taylor's muffled voice. It was hard, tight, and pained. Almost unrecognizable.
"Yes, Tay?" said Emma sweetly.
"I know what you did." said Taylor.
Emma made herself laugh. "Oh, but I haven't done anything wrong. I've come to save my poor best friend Taylor from the cruel bullies. If you beg-"
"I know all about your murderer friend. You saw the kills, you covered up the crimes. You and your lawyer dad! Bet you twisted it around in your head so you thought your lies made you a hero. What do you think the police will do to you when they find out? What do you think the bar association will do to your dad?"
Emma's jaw dropped. Taylor knew about Sophia? About Shadow Stalker? How? She spoke, as much a matter of reflex as anything else. "You, don't know what you're talking about, you don't have-"
"Shut up! I have proof, I have everything on you and your friends! I've had it for months!" Taylor's heavy breathing came from inside the locker. "Fuck you. I put up with your shit for so long. I didn't rat you out. You'll be charged as an adult. I wanted to spare you from that shit. Maybe I believed you'd see the light and be my friend again. But you just burned that fucking bridge!
"Now you listen to me, best friend. You and your dad want to stay out of jail? You're going to stop this pointless bullying shit. You and your 'friends' don't lay a finger on me or my stuff, you don't talk to the teachers, you don't talk to me, you don't fucking look at me. And you're going to let me out of this locker right fucking now!"
Emma couldn't move. She could barely breathe. No. This was impossible. It was a secret, Taylor couldn't know, no one knew. No one could ever know.
Taylor must have taken her silence as a refusal. She continued on her tirade, her voice growing louder, harsher, unstable. "You think you have protection? They'll throw you under the bus when they know what shit you've pulled! I don't care who's a murderer. I'm not stupid. If anything happens to me or my dad, a certain lawyer is going to put certain proof online for the public to see and you'll be fucking ruined by that limelight you love so much. Now you have five seconds to let me out and apologize on your knees or I'll stop being merciful!"
Emma's heart was hammering, her eyes wide. She wanted to talk to her dad, to Sophia, but they weren't there for her. This wasn't supposed to be happen. When Taylor pushed she was supposed to step up and push back. Harder, stronger. Taylor was the weak one, the victim, and she was the strong one. But Taylor's impossible words told her that she wasn't on firm ground anymore. That she had never been on firm ground, that for months she had been standing on a tall cliff stepping closer and closer to the edge, and that pushing back one more time would mean stepping off and falling into a bottomless abyss...
The only thing that broke her paralysis was the fact that she had intended to let Taylor out of the locker from the start. She put a trembling hand onto the lock and entered Taylor's combination to open the door. The numbers a boy had witnessed in secret and told her a month ago in exchange for her favor.
Taylor's back was stained with blood trickling from the wounds on the back of her head, covered by her blood matted hair. She toppled backward and Emma caught her in her arms. Emma lowered herself to her knees to let Taylor's body lie on the floor, supporting Taylor's head on her lap. More blood was running down Taylor's face, covering her eyes and staining her lips.
"Taylor. Uh, shit." Emma stammered. "I, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-, uh, I mean. How did you-"
Taylor's face was twisted into an inhuman rictus grin, of pain or triumph or something in between. She forced words out of her mouth one by one, syllable by syllable.
"Better." she said. "Eight. Teen. Point. Six. Two. Three. Six..."
Taylor's voice trailed off.
"Eighteen? I don't get it." said Emma.
Taylor rolled over and tried to support herself with her hands. She made it halfway to her feet before she collapsed, her arms draped over Emma's shoulders and her face buried against her chest.
"T-talk about it later." gasped Taylor. "Going to puke now."
Emma's eyes went wide. "Wait, what do you-aaagh!"
Thirty seconds later, Taylor fell unconscious and limp in her arms.
...
It was two days before Taylor woke up in her hospital bed.
Her eyes were glassy, and she screwed them shut to hide from the daylight shining through the window. She complained of a migrane that made it impossible to think or move out of bed. The headache didn't respond to conventional treatments and only relented after a dose of heavy-duty opiates that left her nearly out of touch with the world.
But for all that, she woke up smiling.