Chapter 4

Never mind the fact that it was fall and supposed to be cold; morning in LA was simply cool and still sunny that 1972 Saturday of late September; the sorority sisters of Kappa Kappa Delta ate their breakfast together, smiling and joking. Most of them incredibly hangover.

Padmé was of the few who actually looked better than in the night before; sleep had done wonders to her previous tired and sad face.

She ate, and smiled at her friends, for the first time in days, sincerely; the change of environment had changed her drastically. Great difference going from a family in mourning to a bunch of happy and carefree college girls.

The sound of two puppies only increased the ease of her heart, but only for a few seconds, as then all feelings mixed and became anger.

"Goddamn, Dormé!" she cried. "She must've left the door open again."

One of the sorority sisters, the younger one, Teckla Minnau, grabbed Artoo and laid him on her lap. "Do they really have to go?" she asked, softly and sadly. "I was really enjoying them, Padmé."

Padmé smiled at the younger girl. "Yes, Teckla. I'm sorry about that. But Mrs. Mothma was very clear last night."

Both girls sighed. Then Teckla went on, "Maybe we can convince her. Where is she anyway?"

Padmé's face looked curious for some time. "I don't know," she said. "It is weird that she didn't come down to have breakfast. Maybe she got up before all of us?"

Teckla shook her head. "Impossible," she said. "I got up around five and I cleaned around. I didn't hear any noise."

"You got up at five?" Cordé laughed. "Jesus, Teckla. I think at that time we were all just falling asleep!"

Every girl but Padmé laughed at Teckla.

She was just nineteen years old, and she had promised her parents she wouldn't drink or take any drugs—she'd just focus on getting an education and make friends, and surprisingly, she had live up to her parents' expectations. She was a sweet girl, Padmé thought and she was right. Teckla usually slept as soon as Kappa Kappa Delta's parties started.

And so, she was an easy target for the wilder girls's teasing.

"Leave her alone, Cordé!" Padmé quickly defended the poor girl from her roommate's cruelty. "Not all of us have to be party animals."

Cordé shrugged. "Speaking of party animals," she then said. "Where is Dormé?"

"I don't know," Padmé said. "She didn't sleep in our room last night."

"Yes, I noticed," Cordé said. "But shouldn't she be back by now? She usually comes back hungry."

The sorority sisters laughed again.

"I'm gonna go look for her," Cordé kept her smile. "She's probably passed out somewhere."

"If you see Mrs. Mothma," Teckla called her before she could leave the breakfast room. "Tell her I want to speak to her."

"You want to beg for the cute puppies?" Cordé said in a kiddy voice that was mocking Teckla's sweetness and innocence.

"No," Teckla said, offended. "I want to tell her I'll be doing a trip next weekend. It's my dad's birthday and I want to spend time with him and my family in Malibu."

"How sweet!" Cordé mocked and laughed as she left.

Cordé knocked and entered every room of the second floor crying Dormé's name. "Come on, you slut, you missed breakfast!" she laughed and screamed. "Dormé!"

Another empty room.

"Dormé!"

She was growing tired of looking for her.

At last, there was one room she hadn't knocked or entered. Their House Mother's room.

"Mrs. Mothma," she called and knocked on the door. "Mrs. Mothma, are you there?"

She thought she might enter it, maybe the old lady was still sleeping; while it wasn't like Mothma to sleep till noon, she usually woke up very tired when they had a party. She slowly turned the door knob, she opened it, but before entering—

The loud ringing of a phone made her jump, startled. "Oh my God!" she cried and then laughed at herself. She closed Mothma's door and followed the noise. It came from her own bedroom.

"Hello?" she said as she picked up the phone.

There was no answer.

"Hello?" she pressed, not yet annoyed. "Who's there?"

The noise died but no words came.

Just some odd, loud, unsteady breathing sound.

"Dormé? Is that you?" she asked. "Bitch, where are you? Are you hangover? I feel like shit," she laughed. The breathing sound grew louder.

Cordé got tired of the silence, so she hung up.

She sat on her bed, but before getting comfortable, the phone rang again.

She sat on the floor and picked up the phone. "Hello?" she greeted. Again, no words and a loud breathing. "Goddamn, it's you again!" she cried, annoyed. "If you know how to use a phone you should know how to speak," she snarled.

New sounds came. The breathing never ceased. Cordé felt a strange shudder down her spine.

"She's dead," the caller said and groaned. "Dead. Dead. Dead." The voice was unfamiliar, odd, shrilled, strained, masculine.

"What the hell?" Cordé stammered. She got up, without letting go of the phone, and she saw, standing on the door, a white face that made her scream. "Oh my God!" she cried, putting away the phone. "Padmé, you scared me!"

Padmé's eyes crowded with teas, she walked to her roommate with an odd energy surrounding her. "Hang up the phone," she ordered with a face void of expression. "Cordé, hang up the phone!"

"Just a second," Cordé said. "I think it's a prank call."

Padmé tried to take the phone into her hands but Cordé didn't let her. "Just hear this, Padmé," Cordé said, all previous shudders disappeared, and she laughed. "What the…"

The caller was now groaning as if he was… Good God! As if he were pleasuring himself! And as if that action hurt him.

"Seriously, what the hell!" Cordé laughed. She put the phone on her ear again. "Listen man, there are special lines you can call for those… calls. This is a Christian home. Get the fuck out of here with that shit!"

"Dead. Dead. Dead." The caller repeated, groaned, and hung up.

"That was weird," Cordé said.

Padmé laid herself on her bed, and wiped away tears.

"I couldn't find Dormé," Cordé then said. "Maybe she's in some frat boy's room. Oh and I think Mothma is still sleeping."

Padmé didn't answer.

"I have no plans for tonight," Cordé said, standing by the door. "Do you want to go see a movie?"

Padmé didn't answer.

"Whatever. I'm gonna go find Dormé. Maybe old Mothma knows if she went out. See you later, honey!"

Padmé appreciated the loneliness she had in her room for the moment, with closed eyes, she allowed her mind to be free for some time.

She was so tired of thinking… she wanted to be at ease. So she thought of nothing. Not on the love of her life and future husband. Not on the recent funeral she attended and the information she learned afterwards. Not on the caller's strange voice and sounds. Not on her friends. Not on her family… Not on nothing—

Then, she thought of something, but it was a pleasant thought—thank God.

She thought of her dogs, as she felt a moist feeling on her shoulder. "Artoo?" she asked without opening her eyes, truly thinking her dog was there licking her. "If you bark now you might kill me," she darkly joked.

"Woof," she heard and her heart almost stopped as she opened her eyes.

She gasped.

"Please don't die," a seductive whisper froze her and she remained where she was, lying on her small bed.

"Ah—Ani…" she stammered.

"Not who you were expecting?" he whispered, getting on the bed, positioning himself on top of her, holding her prisoner. He took each of Padmé's hands between his own, extending his arms around the bed. He laid his head on hers, smelled her hair, sweetly for a second, before he finally put his lips on her.

"Are you alright?" he asked, catching his breath. "You're trembling."

She truly was… "Anakin, what are you doing here?"

He kissed her mouth hungrily, stealing her breath away. He then descended, placing small pecks on her neck, breasts, till he reached her stomach, there, he softly stroked her blouse, till he removed it. "Isn't it obvious?" he laughed quietly.

"Oh…" she moaned when the feeling of his mouth on her skin was too much.

"I've missed you, Padmé!" he cried, passionately.

It had been so long… since the night he proposed they hadn't been together—not like that.

Padmé's sanity seemed to be abandoning her; she roughly pushed Anakin away, but only for a second, getting the space necessary to take his shirt off. She pushed him away again, but only to get herself on top of him; his face gained a quality of arousal and excitement as he guessed what Padmé was thinking of doing. "I love you," he said, helping her get on top. That only fueled Padmé's actions even further. She begun kissing his neck, even biting him as she descended to lick his abs, she moaned as she did that, feeling his skin so freely again giving her the happiness she for so long had lacked… Anakin grabbed her tightly, so tightly a bit of pain mixed in her pleasure, he pressed her to his own body, he pulled at her hair, he—

There was a knock on the door, and before Anakin and Padmé could tell the person off, a sorority sister entered the bedroom.

"Hey, Padmé, do you know if Mrs. Mothma … Oh my God!" Teckla cried, covering her eyes with her hands, very much ashamed.

Shit, Padmé thought, embarrassed. She quickly collected her blouse and threw it on; she pulled the covers to hide Anakin's half naked body.

"I'm so sorry!" the younger girl cried without removing her hands from her eyes. "I'm sorry, Padmé!" she turned around to leave the room, and as she was covering her face, she almost tripped.

A small grin reached Padmé as she freed herself from Anakin's arms and ran to Teckla.

"Careful," she said, walking Teckla around the hallway outside. "You might fall."

"I'm sorry, Teckla repeated, her cheeks sparkling with a violent crimson shade.

"It's alright," Padmé assured her. "It's not your fault… I should've locked the door," she smiled. "What do you need, Teckla?"

"Oh, it's nothing—"

"Come on, tell me. You said something about Mrs. Mothma?"

"Yes, she looked down as she spoke. "My father wants to talk to her on the phone. But I can't find her."

"She's not in her room?"

"No."

"Hmm…"

"Padmé?" Anakin walked behind the girls, his shirt still off.

Teckla, who usually was still oblivious to male beauty and charms, couldn't help but to raise her glance and stare at Anakin Skywalker. When the young man's gaze met hers, Teckla looked down again.

"Are you coming back?" Anakin asked with a grin.

Padmé cleared her throat. "Just a minute, Ani."

Anakin sighed and walked back into the bedroom.

His muscular back caught Teckla's attention.

Padmé noticed the effect her handsome boyfriend caused on the young girl, and while she usually would've exploded with jealousy, she found it very sweet in Teckla.

"I can talk to your dad if you want," Padmé offered.

"Thank, but he wants to speak with our house mother. Don't worry about it; I'm sure Mrs. Mothma is just out shopping. She's probably coming back soon. I'll let you go back to your… your boyfriend." She blushed.

Padmé also blushed and laughed. She went back into her bedroom.

What she found there instantly took away her good mood.

Anakin was dressed again, and he looked like he was ready to leave.

"Where do you think you're going?" Padmé asked, throwing her arms around his neck.

He kissed her softly. "I have something to do," he said and held her tightly.

"Ugh," Padmé complained. "Right now?"

"I know… I know…" he sighed and laughed. "I won't be long. Hey, what do you say if I come and pick you up tonight? We can have a date night like we used to."

"That sounds lovely. Just for one thing. I don't want you to go!"

She pushed him back into the bed and threw herself on him.

He gasped. "I don't want to go either," he said as Padmé passed her hands down his strong arms.

"Then don't—"

"I'll be on time."

She giggled. "That sounds unlikely."

He removed her from his body and walked to the door. "How would you like to see a movie tonight?" he asked, smiling with his beautiful boyish charm.

She smiled back at him. "Sounds great. Only if the date ends with you on top of me," she boldly said and giggled again.

"Most definitely," he winked and left.

Cordé had continued her search for her friend and roommate after leaving Padmé alone on their bedroom. For some reason, the girl had the gut feeling that Dormé was definitely in the house.

But since she had looked at every room in that wide sorority house, she was starting to give up. Or she was growing adventurous?

As she walked for the third time around the hallway of the second floor, she heard some strange noise coming from upstairs; she then remembered her friend was quite crazy. "Stupid, Dormé," she muttered to herself when she looked at the stairway leading to the attic.

On the first Christmas they had spent at Kappa Kappa Delta, Dormé got so drunk she disappeared from everyone's sight, and the next day, they found her asleep in her own vomit in the attic. Could she have done that again?

Well, wouldn't hurt to look.

She first went to get a lamp, since there was no switch in the attic as far as she remembered. When she entered it, she walked around the narrow darkness, calling Dormé and hitting herself with the many things that were there scattered. There was a great mess of dusty cobwebs; Cordé quickly dropped the lamp as she tried to remove it from her hair. She got on her knees to pick it up, when she heard the strange noise from before.

It was a rocking chair. Someone was most definitely there.

"Stupid bitch," Cordé said. "You are here!"

The young girl walked steadily towards the other corner of the room, the rocking chair was backwards to her, so she had to turn it around.

She did that with a little difficulty; when at last she was face to face to the person on the rocking chair, she just pointed the light at her for some time. Completely frozen, Cordé stood in silence for a few seconds.

Slowly… oh so slowly, tears fell down her tanned cheeks.

The light showed her a face, a female one—but not the one she had been looking for and expecting.

She saw a pale face, a pair of blue-green eyes that were permanently opened. Reddish strands of hair falling down the sides of the corpse.

When she could take it all in, Cordé released a great scream of fear and shock.

The sustained screaming lasted for maybe five or seven seconds, till the person rocking the chair rose from the shadows. He stood and watched Cordé for a few moments, Cordé put the light on his face, another loud scream escaped her lips as she did that, now her strength had ran out, and she dropped the lamp on the floor.

The utter darkness only made her scream louder.

"She's dead," the killer said, oddly calm. "Dead. Dead. Dead."

Cordé tried to run away, but the killer pulled at her hair; he roughly pushed her to the window, where if someone was looking from outside, they would've seen clearly how he murdered her.

No one did. Only he did.

He had grabbed a knife earlier from the kitchen; he now was using it on his screaming victim.

He slashed at her stomach, endlessly pulling the knife in and out, somehow without getting blood on his black cloak; only the knife was bloody, and of course, Cordé's now lifeless body on the floor.

He stared at the scene of the crime for a long time, then he walked to the phone on the corner; but this time, he wouldn't call, he would see her.

AN: I think the rating is still alright… is it?

Thanks for reading! Please review!