"This part is when it takes a turn for the worst" Ke$ha said to Mike, biting her lips.
"It's nothing I haven't seen before" Mike said, gesturing for her to continue.
"They were too young," she replied, looking down at her hands.
A muffled noise came whispering through the house. The figure was dragging a now bound teenager through the house.
"Shut up. It'll be over quick. I promise" the figure whispered, trying to hush up the struggling boy.
"Wha-mrhghdhfffhfh are you doin-mmffgfghfghfh" the teen managed to muffle out. He had been tied up by the mysterious figures rope – his hands behind his back, and his feet bound. The figure had managed to coax him out of the bedroom by pretending to be a familiar voice, begging him to come aid the figure with some mundane task. The teen, clouded by sleep, rose and walked towards the cooing voice, out of his bedroom door, and straight into his captor's arms.
The killer had devised a foolproof plan. No traces would be left, and no evidence would be found. The killer attempted to get the teen to stand up. As the teen struggled to escape, the killer gave him an ultimatum. Walk or die. The teen, attempting to scream, but only to be muffled, obliged.
The killer took him out the forest, walking towards the beach. Upon arrival, the figure tied the young boy up to a tree, in order to get his hands free. He pulled the knife from his pocket, tracing it over the contours of his victim's arms.
"We're going to make this clean and quick."
The teenager struggled to free himself, but to no avail. His muffled scream fell on deaf ears.
The killer sheathed his blade, and stabbed him in the stomach. The teenager's eyes bulged, and a pool of blood began to soak his shirt.
"I'm really sorry, but it's a rule in slasher films that I kill you first," the figure shrugged before digging another wound into his left ribcage. "Shhhh, shhhh" the figure cooed. "It'll all be over soon. I promise."
The teenagers eyes began to become heavy, his heart rate slowed down. The victim undid his ties and gag, knowing he wouldn't be able to get very far at this point.
"B-b-backstabber," the victim whispered with his last breath, staring right into his killer's eyes. He had seen the figures face, but nobody would ever know what he saw.
"Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me" the killer cooed, shoving one final stab into the victims back. His prey fell limp, and his eyes rolled back. Lifting the victim up, the figure made sure none of his blood made a mess of the sand. The figure took the body to the shoreline, tossing it into the lake. The killer returned to the sand and brushed it in different directions, and uprooted the bloody ferns that were under its victim.
The house woke up to the smell of fresh bacon and pancakes, accompanied by the smell of coffee brewing. Vivian and Jane had gotten up early to prepare food for everyone. Claire was the first to roll into the kitchen, rubbing her eyelids.
"I couldn't sleep at all last night" Claire said, plopping down onto one of the granite islands kitchen stools.
"What's up?" Jane questioned, while Vivian gave her a look of concern.
"I kept hearing stuff. Like braches snapping and stuff like that. At one point I heard someone leave their room and that freaked me out." Claire mumbled, trying to recall what had prevented her peaceful sleep the night before.
"Eh, don't sweat it" smiled Vivian. "You hear so much crazy shit out hear you don't really know what's real or fake."
The rest of the group piled in, slowly waking up, laughing and giggling over the morning's gossip, stories, and news.
Claire looked around the room. Something wasn't right. Something was missing.
"Where's Kevin?" questioned Claire.
The room went silent. Everyone looked around.
"Maybe he's still upstairs?" Steven looked around for eyes of approval. Everyone shrugged, Michelle replied with a despondent 'probably' and Claire started at her plate.
"I'll go check" said Peter, leaving the table.
Everyone was quiet until Peter came back. "He's not there" he said, worry etching his voice.
"Okay everyone, suit up. Jan, pull up the escalade. Viv, go get the help" Jane hurriedly said, urging the group to get changed to look.
Jan ignited his engine, with Claire in the passenger seat and Vivian and Mark in the back. They drove to the help's mini-manor while the rest scoured the island and the house. Mary and Nicole hopped into the Escalade, and Broo Broo manned the golf cart, carrying Sammi and Gaby in the back.
"Look everywhere" Jane shouted to the help as they drove down a rutted path.
"I knew something was wrong last night. I knew it" Claire said, shivering in her seat.
"Don't sweat it" Jan said, patting her shoulder.
After hours of looking and no possible lead as to where Kevin was, the group gave up.
"It's not like somebody killed the kid," Michelle said, looking to the group for support.
"There's nobody here that would do it" Jan stated.
"And if there anyone here that is, speak up now so I can beat the shit out of you." Nicole said, eyeing the group. Broo Broo gave her a pat of support.
"Kevin didn't seem comfortable with ya'll, to be honest. This privileged shit really didn't seem to fly with him" he interjected.
"Thanks for the heads up, Azealia" Lauri quipped. Broo Broo shot her a cold glare and Mary patted him on the back.
"Look, maybe he wanted to leave?" Mary questioned. "Maybe he swam to shore?"
"Don't get hopeful. He would've texted them by now" Sammi said, despondent to the group.
"There's no cellphone reception here" Vivian retorted. "The only phones are the landlines in your house and in this one and Kevin knows the number to neither one of them."
"His stuffs still here though. You think he jumped ship without bringing anything?" Miranda asked with a twinge of concern.
"He didn't bring anything" Jan replied. "The only thing he brought was some underwear. I was letting him, or was going to let him use my clothes."
"Then he swam away – nothing we can do about it" Vivian shrugged, popping open a bottle of champagne. She poured a glass for everyone.
"To our brave friend, Kevin" she laughed. The others cheered, and Claire felt her chemical balance return to normal.
The house had launched into full-blown party mode. Jane was leaning against the old record machine in the corner. Mary approached her, the smell of tequila wafting from her mouth.
"You look pretty" she said, eyeing Jane, looking her up and down. Her hand grabbed at Jane's waist.
"Sorry, I don't play for that team" Jane said, pushing Mary's hand away.
"Tonight you do," said Mary, grabbing Jane's face and initiating a kiss. Jane didn't pull away.
"#teamdyke #swaggie" Miranda tweeted, snapping a picture of the two.
Sky Ferreira's song "Untouchable" blasted over the speakers. Michelle had chosen Steven as her prey for the night. She grinded up on him, feeling the music pulse through her body, taking his hands in hers.
"I thought you didn't like me like this" Steven asked, leaning into her.
"Lana taught me to treat every man like he is a golden statue," she said, stuttering out her words in an intoxicated slur.
Gaby and Broo Broo sat on the couch, smoking a blunt.
"You know what pisses me off," Broo Broo shouted.
"The system man. The fuckin' system" Gaby replied, letting out a cloud of smoke.
"Nahhhhh doe." Broo Broo replied. "Nicki Minaj, Nicki Minaj."
Jan sat with Nicole, Lauri, Claire, and Alex, sharing a beer and talking about their plans for tomorrow. Alex began to complain about how there was no Starbucks when Claire cut him short.
"Shh. I'm playing right now" Claire sniped, hushing Alex.
"This isn't you" Lauri said, rolling her eyes.
"Yes it is" Claire said.
"No, it's Sky Ferreira" said Jan, making a 'duh' motion with his hands.
"None of you understand" said Claire, shrinking into the couch.
In the distance, outside of the raging music, a figure shifted through the darkness. It was planning its next move to make, and determining when to strike. A party seemed like the perfect time to snatch someone up, the figure pondered. Running to the back of the house, the figure opened the porch door, and hid itself in a closet, its cold knife pressing against its pocket.