Author's Note: I'm back! With an extremley long overdue update. i'm not going to explain here why i took over a year to return to fanfiction again. it dosen't really matter. but anway. i hope you like this chapter. i really did try hard to make it long/good but i'm a little rusty on writing at the moment so i think i may have failed a bit. also it's 3am. i'm half alseep at the moment.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders. I also don't onw the lyrics used in the beginning of the chapter. They're from a song called "Is It Progression If A Cannibal Uses A Fork?" by Chiodos. who are a freaking amazing band if i might add. The song was also part of what inspired me to update.
Thanks: to every single person that reviewed my last chapter and my whole story. i love you all to death
WARNING: this chapter uses some foul language. if you deam yourself too immature to read a story that uses swear words then i suggest you stop now

we have narrowed it down to a butcher knife
and the mockingbird with the blood.

out of tune this tale of terror
the slow tolling of the funeral bell
i want to know whats going on in that
pretty little head of yours
everyday is a bone palace ballet
October 25th – between 9:15pm

Steve Randal was in the living room of the Curtis household when he first heard the noise. It was a loud high pitched noise that seemed to be coming from somewhere outside. He glanced over at the grandfather clock next to the TV. It read 9:15. Who in God's name was running around at 9:15. He was sure that all the kids in his town would be at Tim's party. I guess someone missed the memo he though. Grudgingly he got up from his spot on the couch and walked over to the window. He peered through the dusty white shades in attempt to find the source of the yelling but sighed in defeat when he saw nothing but darkness. The light on the side table flickered as Steve walked passed it to retake his seat on the couch. Apparently he hadn't been the only one to hear the screaming because just as he went to sit down Soda poked his head out into the hallway.

"Steve what the hell are you watching. That screaming is giving me a headache" he said from the bathroom door. He was the only other person in the house with Steve at the moment. Everyone else had gone to Tim Shepard's party. Soda, who had gotten home from late from work, was currently finishing a shower and Steve was waiting for him. They would go to the party once Soda was ready.

"I don't have the TV on Soda" Steve answered as he rubbed his temples. A headache was coming upon him too.

"Then where is the noise coming from?" Soda questioned further.

"I don't know. But I wish whoever was making it would stop already" Steve said slightly annoyed. Soda gave him a look that said 'well, what are you waiting for go kick the person's ass'. Steve groaned and stood up once again. Looking in the mirror that hung above the TV he ran a hand through the greasy mop of black hair on his head. He began a fast paced walk to the door with every intention of yelling "shut up" to whoever was screaming. A sudden thud made his footsteps falter. It sounded as if someone had just thrown themselves against the front door. Next was a quiet knock. Then another. Soon the person outside was pounding on the door with such force that Steve thought the old door might break down. With the pounding came the return of the screaming that had ceased for only a minute.

"Steve?" Soda said once again sticking his head out the door.

"Yea, yea. I got it. Just hurry up and finish showering. I want to leave soon" Steve said as he reached forward to open the door.

"What the hell do you-" he started but abruptly stopped. Light from inside the house had flooded onto the porch revealing who the screaming person was. His eyes widened in shock and horror as he took in the image of the familiar wavy haired girl who was covered in a crimson liquid.

"HELP ME!" she screamed, lunging forward and grabbing Steve's arms in a death grip.

"Shit! Angela? What the hell!" Steve said as words stumbled out of his mouth not able to think of anything else to say. The girl in front of him glanced nervously behind her and shrieked. He was coming for her! Without releasing her grip on Steve, she bolted forward and dragged him into the house. She slammed the door and locked it before proceeding to run to the windows and the back door to do the same. By this point Steve, who was rubbing his upper arms in pain from Angela's talon sharp nails, was thoroughly confused.

"Steve, what are you doing? Don't just stand there! Help me!" Angela said sounding exasperated as she ran past a dumbstruck Steve. It took a minute or two of watching this panicked girl run frantically around his best friend's house before he finally found his voice again.

"Angela what in God's name is going on? Are you okay?" He asked. She didn't respond and attempted to run passed him again but he grabbed her wrist to stop her. She bit her lip and looked around the dimly lit room. Her eyes were becoming glassy and she was shaking a little.

"He's dead Steve" she whispered looking down at the blood that covered her body. His blood.

"Angela are you okay?" Soda shouted from somewhere down the hallway.

"Yea, I'm fine" she answered back.

"What was that crash?" Ice cold fear and realization froze her heart as soon as the words left Soda's mouth. They hadn't made the noise. And she didn't either. So who did? The pounding of her heart grew louder in her ears as she quickly scanned the room. It beat so loud that she almost didn't hear the heavy thud of footsteps coming from the kitchen.

closer... TICK
closer ... TOCK
closer...TICK

She tried to stand up but found that her body wouldn't move. Her mouth grew dryer as the footsteps grew closer. The ticking of the grandfather clock seemed to be getting louder and faster. Just like her heartbeat. Almost as if it was counting down to her untimely end. A funeral march of sorts. It was driving her insane.

"Steve" she whispered, because that was all she seemed to be able to do. The concept of screaming seamed long forgotten to her body. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't notice the silhouette of a man reflected in the TV. Nor did she notice the glint of a long silver blade as the light from the single lit lamp shone against it.

And then everything went black. A black gloved hand came over her mouth before she even got the chance to scream. Then it was over. The loud thudding footsteps stopped.
As did the thudding of Angela Shepard's heart. All that could be heard now was the quiet ticking of the grandfather clock and the hushed whispers of two friends as they re-entered the unlit room.

review and i'll send you some virtual cookies.

-BonePalace -