"Who wants another beer?" Hayden asked as he grabbed another six-pack next to his seat.
Logan, Trevor, Justin, Zach and the other boys gathered in the boys' dorm TV lounge raised their hands, and Hayden started passing the cans along.
"You sure about that, Logan?" Zach teased as he saw his friend crack his can open. "You ain't gonna puke it out, are you?"
"Hey, get off me, man!" Logan groaned, greatly annoyed by the round of laughter around him.
That was funny the first time, but it was getting old fast. No, actually it had never been funny.
Fuck you, Max Selfie Bitchfield!
He took a sip of his beer and turned his focus back to the game they were watching, trying to relax, trying to forget his humiliation for a while.
The past couple of days had been the worst of his life. He had woken up the morning after the Halloween party with blurred memories of the night before, and had to be told by Zach and the other dudes that the stupid hipster chick had beaten him in a Mexican Standoff before bedding one of the hottest girls of all Blackwell, thereby becoming the new superstar around while he had become the local laughingstock!
I can't fucking believe it! Beaten in a drinking game… by a fucking dyke!
But that was okay… reputations come and go… soon he'd help his team win a high-stakes game, party harder than ever before to celebrate this, and get himself a new cheerleader to fuck and everything would be fine again.
He brought the can to his lips again and shivered. It was getting freaking cold around here! He was about to take a swig when an unpleasant tingling sensation, like someone breathing down his neck, made him jump.
"Hey, you okay buddy?" Hayden asked.
"Yeah, sure, just shivering… it's cold in here, ain't it?"
"Pretty fucking cold, yeah," Trevor complained. "What the fuck?"
"Bah, I guess the AC's busted again," Zach shrugged. "That school is a real fucking piece of shit…"
"For God's sake!" Hayden suddenly roared out, startling everyone. "Justin! Trevor! I told you not to smoke in here! I love my joint like the next guy, but if Big Brother smells it, he'll turn this dorm into a fucking gulag! It's good enough we manage to smuggle booze in here, don't ruin everything!"
"Dude," Justin retorted, "you're high or something? We ain't smoking here, we know the rules. Nobody's smoking!"
"Oh yeah? So where does that smoke come from?"
He was right: the floor of the TV lounge was covered in a thick blanket of white smog.
"I dunno," Trevor said, "but dude, it doesn't even smell like weed!" He paused to take a sniff and continued: "Doesn't smell like anything, really…"
"Uh, guys?" Zach asked. "Shouldn't we, like, evacuate or something?"
"Doesn't look like a fire," Hayden said. "Trev's right, it doesn't smell. What the hell is that?"
"I told you guys, this school is falling apart!"
"Yeah, right," Logan intervened, "now can we watch the game instead of talking about fog and smoke and shit?"
"Jeez Logan," Trevor commented, "chill out man, you're grumpy as fuck these days…"
"You shut the fuck up!" Logan roared. "I'm grumpy if I fucking want to be, asshole!"
"Say that again?" Trevor roared back as he stood up, ready to get physical.
"Hey hey hey, dudes, relax!" Justin intervened to separate the two just as Logan had stood up too. "We ain't here to fight, we're just friends watching a game, okay?"
"He is NOT my friend!" Logan yelled. "Just a skater shithead who stole my chick!"
"Dude, you dumped Dana, you fucking cunt!"
"How did you call me?"
It took all the boys present in the room a lot of patience and diplomacy to keep them from going at each other's throat and calm them down, but eventually they sat back down and focused on the game again. Sullenly, Logan grabbed his can and was about to go for another sip when another unpleasant sensation made him fidget and almost drop his can.
"What the fuck?" he muttered while turning swiftly around to catch the culprit, but there was no-one behind him.
"You sure you're okay, man?" Hayden asked, smirking, feeling both curious and amused by the jock's strange behavior.
"Yeah! Yeah, just a… mosquito…"
"In November?"
"Yeah, why not?" he retorted angrily, which shut Hayden up. Good.
That feeling, what was that? Like someone had licked his ear with a cold tongue! He took a deep breath, tried to calm down. He was imagining things, that was all. He was just nervous. Way too fucking nervous. He brought the can to his lips, and this time actually managed to get some beer in his mouth, when-
Logan!
A whisper in his ear, calling his name, made him spit it out on his jeans, much to his friends' amusement.
"What's wrong, Logan?" Trevor teased. "Want me to call Max to help you finish this?"
His joke was met with a round of hollering laughter, and the jock turned deep red, mortified, as he gave the skater a death glare.
"Jokes aside," Justin said when the laughter died out, "maybe we should invite her to hang out with us? She's practically one of the boys now."
"And she's managed to do what none of us could do yet," Hayden commented, "sleeping with Victoria Chase! Not too jealous, Zach?"
"Dude!" Zach complained. "Seriously, get off my back! You can't believe how much shit Juliet's still giving me over this stupid sext thing…"
"She forgave you?"
"In a way… she said she's willing to try again, on the one condition that she has full access to my phone and my Facebook account to check my every move. And she gives me the stink eye whenever Victoria's in my line of sight."
"Well, she'll probably ease up now that Victoria's come out… seriously guys, any one of you ever thought she was a dyke?"
"Max was seriously hot in her pirate costume," Justin commented, "I bet she could turn any girl into a dyke. She turned me into a dyke!"
"Moron!" Zach chuckled as he threw him an empty can.
The debate then continued on Max's hotness, and Logan, tired of hearing about Max here, Max there, eventually stood up and declared he was going to take a leak.
The bathroom was even colder than the lounge, and as soon as he entered, the boy felt overcome by a sense of dread that froze him dead on his feet. He looked around, eyes wide like a doe caught in the headlights. He exhaled and a plume of mist came out of his mouth.
Shit, how can it be so cold, it's crazy!
Not only was it cold, it was also somehow dark and bleak, as if a veil had been drawn over the lights, preventing them from doing their job properly. And that fucking fog was here too, a thick blanket covering the floor up to his ankles. For a second, he had the creepy sensation that the fog would grab his feet and pull him down. Nah, he was imagining things… yet he still felt the compulsion to check every toilet and shower booth to make sure he was alone. Yes, he was alone. Great. So why couldn't he shake off the feeling that he was being watched?
Dude, you're just stressed out, chill out.
Yeah, right. Chill out. He walked to the urinals and started doing his business, trying to relax. He had almost forgotten the creepy feeling when a voice echoed in the room, a high, girlish voice that cooed:
"Oh my God, what a teeny wittle weenie!"
"What the fuck!" he yelped as he jumped and turned around, hurrying to tuck his male stuff back in his pants while trying not to die of a heart attack. As an answer, he heard a distant, ethereal girlish giggle that sent a chill down his spine.
"Who the fuck are you?" he wailed with a quivering voice. "What do you want?"
Trembling, he started slamming the booth doors violently and roaring: "It's not funny! Where are you? Show yourself, bitch!"
The voice that answered him this time was no longer distant, it was clear as though coming from a person standing in the room. And it came from right behind him:
"Now that's not a very nice way to talk to a lady, Logan."
He swiftly turned around, and the fog was gone, all of a sudden, as if a switch had been flicked. The fog was gone and now stood in the middle of the bathroom the black-clad figure of fucking Max Cuntfield.
"Max? The fuck! What are you doing here?"
Then something odd drew his attention toward the mirror, but as he looked he saw nothing. Wait… he saw nothing, that was the oddity! There was his own reflection alright, but not Max's…
"I'm here," the girl said as she snapped her fingers to get his attention. "Now, to answer your question, I wanted to see you tonight because I realized I may have been a little too hard on you at the party. I mean, if I had known you were such a pussy…"
"The fuck did you say?" he roared, flaring with anger.
"Shut up," she replied calmly as she snapped her fingers once more, and Logan suddenly felt frozen, his mouth shut tight. "Now that's better," she continued. "So, I've been a little too hard on you, and since you obviously can't hold your liquor as well as I do, I thought I might give you a chance for payback in another kind of challenge."
"What kind of challenge?" he asked, feeling whatever force that had paralyzed him receding.
"How about a fight?"
"A fight? Like a fistfight?" he cocked an eyebrow in disbelief. "Seriously, hipster?"
"Sure, why not?"
"I don't fight girls!"
Max snorted: "Would you look at that, Logan Robitchson being chivalrous! Un-be-lievable! Okay, big boy, how about this: you don't have to hit me if you don't want to. All you have to do is pin me down. Shouldn't be hard for a tough guy like you, right?"
No, it shouldn't be hard… but that was exactly why Logan got suspicious: "And what's in it for you?"
Max shrugged: "Told you, I just wanted to be nice and give you a shot at revenge. Or maybe I'm so sure you're too weak to beat me I'm just making you this offer to have another good laugh at your expense?"
Logan considered the situation for a second, but decided this was way too weird for him: "You're crazy, Cuntfield. I'm out of here."
He started walking past her, but as he reached her level, she called: "Wait!"
He stopped, ready to listen.
"How about we make this more interesting?" she asked, smiling predatorily at him, her hand gently caressing his arm which caused him to shiver. "Say… if I win, I can do anything I want with you. But… if you win… you can do anything you want with me. Absolutely anything, I'll be your completely obedient slave for the rest of the night." She licked her lips as she stared into his eyes, a fire glowing behind her pupils.
Then she reached closer to him so she could whisper in his ear: "Think about it, big boy: how good would it feel to be sucked by the very girl who put you to shame?"
The boy's heart fluttered, and he had to bend over a bit to accommodate his massive erection. What was going on with her? Wait… he had heard rumors after her noisy night with Victoria, rumors about her being into… rough stuff. So that was it, then? After dominating a girl, she wanted to see what it was like to be dominated by a real man? Oh, boy, how he would show her…
"Agree," he blurted out, his excitement at this unexpected turn of events barely contained.
Max's naughty grin grew even wider. She stepped back and stood there, facing him, looking completely relaxed. "Go ahead, big boy," she whispered. "I'm waiting."
Logan did waste no time: he put both hands on her frail shoulders, and pushed to bring her to her knees. Then his eyes grew wide with shock.
What the!
He pushed harder, and harder, bending his knees so he could put all his weight on it. Logan Robertson was a tough guy. As a football player, he'd already tackled and roughed up dudes who were nearing 220 lbs. He didn't know Max's weight, but from the look of her, she shouldn't be more than 90 pounds. For him, this should be a piece of cake.
So why the hell wasn't she moving an inch?
He tried several positions, several leverages, he pushed as hard as he was physically capable of, groaning and sweating under the effort, but no matter how much energy he put in the task, she just wouldn't budge. He might as well be trying to push a concrete pole that was firmly planted in the ground.
As he started feeling tired and distressed, Max eventually decided she'd have enough and shrugged. Just that, a simple, nonchalant shrug of her shoulders, but the force of it was enough to repel the boy several feet back and against the wall. Logan gasped, collected himself, and threw himself at her. If pushing wouldn't do, surely she wouldn't resist a tackle at full speed! But right as he was making contact, the girl seemed to vanish from between his arms, suddenly he was hugging thin air and, drawn by his own momentum, he went crashing head first against the opposite wall.
He stood back up, shook his head, and waited for the grogginess to recede.
"What are you waiting for?" Max taunted behind him. "Come on, it's not that hard!"
"You… you fucking BITCH!" he spat out as he turned around and, driven mad with frustration, punched her in the face. But once again, he hit thin air, and once again, his own momentum made him trip and fall, under the girl's cruel sneering laughter.
Still down, he turned to lie on his back so he could get a good look at her. She was leering at him with a sadistic satisfaction, and he noticed torn strips of fabric hanging from one of her closed fists. Intrigued, he inspected himself and saw, with horror, that his t-shirt bore four large claw marks on the side, as if it had been torn by a tiger's paw. He looked back up at her in awe and stopped breathing, suddenly overwhelmed by the terrible certainty that the girl standing before him was not the hipster wallflower Max Caulfield, but a demon that had taken her likeness.
"What… are you?" he muttered faintly.
"I'm your worst nightmare," she hissed as her eyes shone a bright orange, and suddenly she was straddling him. The surprise caused him to let out a high-pitched squeal. He hadn't even seen her move! He struggled to free himself, feeling that this was no longer a game and he had to fight for his life, but the girl grabbed his wrists and pinned him done with inexorable force.
"Now you listen to me, Logan," she hissed, staring into his souls with the two glowing embers she had for eyes, "and listen carefully: I know all about you. I know what you did to Dana. You've been a bad, bad boy, and you're gonna make up for it. So, as soon as possible, you're gonna call your parents, and tell them they are now grandparents."
"What?" he yelped. "I can't do that, they're gonna kill me!"
"Maybe you should've thought about that before you fucked up like you did."
"It's not my fault! I didn't know she wasn't on the pill!"
"Is that your excuse for taking off your condom without her consent?" the girl roared. "Man, you disgust me even more than before, and I already thought you were a pathetic sleazebag!"
"Can we cut to the drink?" another female voice asked. "I'm getting bored here!"
"In a minute, Captain!" Max replied, and Logan noticed that there was now another girl beside Max, a taller one, dressed in jeans and a black jacket, her hair concealed under a beanie and the lower half of her face covered by a bandana.
"Wh-who is this?" he asked.
"Oh, Logan, meet Captain. Captain, Logan. Captain is a good friend of mine I invited over for a snack."
"A snack?"
"We'll get to it in a moment. So, I was saying: you're gonna call your parents, tell them everything. Then, you will tell Dana you are a useless asshole, and you're gonna promise that whatever she chooses to do, you will be here to support her in every way she needs. Got it?"
He nodded.
"Good boy. Cause if you don't do as I say, Captain and I will come back. And if we come back, we will make sure you'll never, ever be able to have kids ever again, do you get me?"
He gulped and nodded again, frantically, absolutely terrified. Then he heard voices from the hallway:
"Logan? Are you okay in there? Logan, bro, whatcha doing?"
And from the other side, hands knocked at the door and tried to open it, to no avail.
"Time's running short," Captain said.
"I know," Max groaned. "Okay, come over here, I think he understood."
Then Captain knelt down beside the boy, and he saw that she had the same demonic orange glow in her eyes as Max. His eyes moved back and forth between the two girls just as Max opened her mouth to reveal pearly white teeth and two unusually long, sharp fangs.
"I didn't lie about one thing Logan," she announced, "we will suck you, just not in the way you expected. Now, snack time!"
The poor boy screamed from the top of his lungs as the girls grabbed an arm each and bit into it with voracious appetite.
When Hayden and Zach finally managed to open that damn door, they found their friend lying on the ground screaming and trembling, with his shirt ripped at the side.
"Shit, bro, what happened?" Zach yelled as he rushed to his friend's help.
Logan looked at him with bloodshot, terror-stricken eyes. His face was covered with sweat and pale as death.
"M-m-m-monsters," he stuttered. "M-m-m-monsters… s-s-s-sucked m-m-me…"
Zach looked up at Hayden, frowning with confusion. It took the two boys a long time to calm him down and bring him back up on his feet, but even then he seemed to be still very confused, for he kept saying he'd been attacked, even though there was absolutely no sign of anybody else being in the bathroom with Logan when the two boys had opened the door. And he could not remember who had attacked him, he vaguely recalled two women, but that was it. Eventually, the boys concluded he had suffered some weird "loony" episode and they helped him back to the safety of his room, intending to take him to the nurse first thing in the morning.
Lying on his bed, Logan breathed in and out, slowly returning to a state of calm. He felt exhausted, drained. The memory of the events in the bathroom were already starting to fade. It seemed so unreal… surely he had dreamed that. But why? Had he torn his shirt himself? Probably. The guys were right, he'd have to see the nurse. Too much stress, for sure. He sat up and began to undress for the night. His forearms were itching, and as he looked, he noticed two red spots, like mosquito bites, on each arm. His skin crawled at the sudden recollection of Max and her friend biting him…
Dude, you've been hallucinating! Come on, Max didn't even have a reflection, she wasn't real, man!
That's right. Couldn't be real. Couldn't be. He took off his shirt, caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and-
"Holy fuck!" he muttered in awe as he saw his reflection. He had two scars on his chest, one on each pectoral. Where did they come from? He couldn't have done that to himself! He went to take a closer look: one scar had vaguely the shape of an M, while the other looked like a C.
Gasping, he fell to his knees and, in panic, crawled back to his bed to hide under the covers. Words echoed in his head:
"If you don't do as I say, Captain and I will come back. And if we come back, we will make sure you'll never, ever be able to have kids ever again."
Quickly, he groped for his phone, found it, dialed a number.
"Logan?" a woman's voice answered. "My boy, it's so late! Anything happened?"
"Mom!" he gasped, breathless. "Mom, I need to talk to you, now! Something happened, something real serious, mom, I-"
"Easy, easy my boy! Take a deep breath, and tell me. What happened?"
"Mom, I… I screwed up real bad…"
In the truck, Chloe was laughing her head off:
"Holy shit, did you see the look on his face? Dude, I bet he wet himself like a baby!"
"Yeah," Max replied absent-mindedly while looking through the window. "It was fun…"
"What's the problem, Bat-Max? You don't look too happy about it…"
"I… I just hope we didn't take things too far. I mean, we wanted to scare him straight, not traumatize him…"
"Bah, asshole had it coming. What he did, you don't do that to a girl. Dana even less. Seriously, I like her, she's cool. Now we're sure he'll behave himself from now on. Now, on to Prescunt."
"Chloe… what's after Nathan?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean… once we've gotten justice for Rachel and Kate, and you… what will we do next?"
Chloe shrugged: "I dunno… figure out a way to bring me back without getting everyone freaked out? And in the meantime, I'm sure there'll be plenty more bullies to take care of."
Max snorted: "Wanna create a vigilante group?"
"Why not? I'm serious Max, Blackwell's long due for a Dynamic Duo to fight back the bullies. Like those Vortex Club asswipes! Oh man, we definitely need to break into Bitchtoria's room one night and make her shit her pants! I guess you've had the pleasure to meet her already?"
These words startled Max who suddenly turned to Chloe with a sheepish look on her face: "Uh, I don't think so… you know, lots of things happened while you were… away…"
"Yeah, and?"
"Victoria's nice now."
"She's WHAT?" Chloe yelped. "You're kidding, aren't you?"
"No, I'm not! Seriously, she's not the… bitch… you used to know, not anymore."
"Just apologizing to Kate for this video thing does not mean she's no longer a bitch, Max, it just means she can act as a half-way decent human being sometimes."
"That's the thing, Chloe, she didn't just apologize! Since then she's been really nice to Kate, and me. She even gave me a very cute stuffed doe when… to comfort me, when I was sad."
Chloe was speechless for a moment, then she asked with disbelief: "Are we talking about the same Victoria Chase here?"
"Yep."
"Daaamn… who would've thought?" Then she sighed: "Fine, we'll leave your new BFF alone, then."
Silence. Chloe looked visibly disappointed, like a child who'd been promised a super cool toy that never actually arrived.
"Are you angry?" Max asked, anxious.
"No… no, I'm not, just… well, it's a good thing she became nice, I guess…"
"But you really wanted to make her shit herself, didn't you?"
"Fuck yeah, I did! Had to put up with that bitch for three years, now I got the means to get a real nasty revenge on her, and I can't do that anymore, it's frustrating!"
Max chuckled: "Consider it the other way: the fact that you have the power to make her shit her pants but you won't because she became nice is a good thing. It means you're a good person, Chloe Price."
Chloe sighed with annoyance: "Yeah, yeah, whatever… we're here!"
She stopped the truck at a good distance from the hospital. Quickly, the girls climbed out and headed toward it, carefully avoiding the main entrance that was lit and busy all night in favor of a side door in an unlit wing of the building. Turning to mist, they easily sneaked under the door and returned to their human shapes in a dark hallway.
"Hey," Chloe whispered merrily, "we're getting good at this!"
"We are, but it still feels weird as fuck."
"Weird, yeah, but not too unpleasant…"
"Are you telling me you like being broken into millions of droplets of water?"
"Nah, it's not that, its…anyway, we need to find the psych ward."
"I think it's this way, follow me," Max whispered back, and soon after the hipster girl took off, Chloe striding behind to keep up.
"How do you know where the psych ward is?" the punk asked with astonishment.
"I, uh… I took a guess."
Chloe felt doubtful. Max seemed way too confident as to where she was going for it to be 'just a guess'. There was something she wasn't telling her… but what?
As for Max, she kept walking, trying not to pay too much attention to her surroundings. The memories were too fresh. The memories of her, in tears, rushing into the hospital and asking for Chloe, only to learn that she hadn't survived… and later, the memories of her, lying on a stretcher, being wheeled along those familiar corridors after her… her rooftop incident…
The girls went on in silence, using their mist and flicker abilities to dodge the security guards and anyone else coming their way, and eventually arrived in front of a reception desk beside the entrance to a hallway that read PSYCHIATRY. They hid in a dark corner, out of the receptionist's line of sight.
"Okay," Max whispered, "so far so good but we need Nathan's room number. Must be somewhere on that desk, we gotta get rid of the receptionist."
"Leave that to me," Chloe replied with a wink, and before Max could say anything, she was crawling on the ceiling in Spider-Chloe mode, easily passing over the reception desk and venturing into another hallway that opened to the right. Nothing happened for a few seconds, then there was a loud noise coming from the hallway. The receptionist had a start, then took a look and asked, loud, his voice quivering a bit:
"Is there anyone in there?"
He got no answer, so he stood up, grabbed his Mag-Lite, and went to check it out, leaving his desk unattended. Max smirked, and quickly went for it. It didn't take Chloe very long to join her.
"There," she chuckled, satisfied. "I threw a wheelchair down a staircase, it'll take him a while to figure out what happened."
"Good job, Captain," Max smiled at her. "Now, where is Nathan?"
The inspection didn't last long: a list of patients along with their room numbers was laid out in plain sight on the desk.
"Prescott N., Room 312. There we go!"
The door was locked. Of course it was, Nathan was locked in there as an alternative to jail. But the girls easily misted through. As they reformed, Chloe gave Max a nudge and pointed to a corner of the ceiling, where a lens was visible.
"Cute," Max chuckled. "They're in for a big surprise when they watch the videos…"
Silently, they approached the bed. The room was just like Max's room, white, clean, a bed, a bedside table, a round coffee table, a couple chairs, and a TV on the wall opposite the bed. Was it really two weeks ago, when Kate had come for tea, and the three of them had made peace with Victoria? It felt like a million years had passed!
Nathan was sleeping.
"Wakey wakey," Chloe chanted as she rudely shook his shoulders, but he kept snoring away.
"Damn," she commented, "for a murderer, he sure is a heavy sleeper!"
"He must be drugged, Chlo. They're more than happy to give you pills to get you to sleep here."
"How do you know?"
"Err… it's not hard to guess."
"Yeah, maybe you're right. Okay then…"
Chloe's slap resounded loudly in the room, and Nathan, brutally snapped out of his torpor, didn't have time to scream or protest as the punk girl grabbed his mouth to keep it shut tight.
"You scream or make any kind of noise," she murmured, "and I make you eat your teeth, is that clear?"
He took a look at her, studying her features in the dim moonlight pouring through the windows. His eyes grew wide in terror as he recognized her.
"Is that clear?" Chloe repeated, more sternly.
The boy's breathing was fast and ragged, and he started to struggle and moan under Chloe's grasp, but the punk just tightened her clench while holding his chest down with her other hand, and Max winced when she saw her friend's fingers dig a little too deep in his cheeks. Any tighter than that and she'd pulverize his jaw. Luckily for Nathan, even in his panic he understood that calming down was the best course of action, and he went limp, still breathing raggedly.
"Is that clear?" Chloe repeated a third time, and the boy nodded. She released him.
He massaged his sore jaw for a little while, then focused back on the girl and whispered in awe:
"I… thought you were dead!"
"Yeah, well, I got better!"
"Holy shit, I… I'm so glad, I-I-I mean, I d-d-didn't want to shoot, I promise, I just-"
"You can shove your pitiful apologies up your ass for all I care. I didn't come here for that. I need your help."
"M-M-My help? What for? How did you get in here? And wha-what's Selfie Hipster doing here?"
"Max is my First Mate, wherever I go, she goes. As for how we got in... that's a good question, Max? I thought there was this sanctum shit?"
Max shrugged: "Maybe it doesn't apply to this room since he's not here by his own free will?"
"Maybe? So you got no fucking clue?"
"Hey, I didn't write those rules, I barely understand them myself! Remember, as a vampire I'm only a couple days older than you!"
"Yeah, whatever. Now, Nathan, I'll tell you what I want from you, and open your ears wide, cause if you fail me, I'll come back to skin you alive. And it's not a metaphor. Clear?"
He nodded.
"Good. You see, the situation is complicated cause I'm, well, I'm technically still dead. Yep, turns out you didn't miss, you fucking bitch! If it weren't for Max here, I would still be six feet under."
The boy frowned: "Wait, I… I don't understand, you were dead, and buried? So how come-"
"Do you believe in God, Prescott?" Chloe asked.
"God? Uh, yeah, I guess, like everyone else, why?"
"And the Devil, do you believe in the Devil?"
"The fuck is that about?"
"I asked you a question, Prescott."
Then she stared at him, and under the boy's stupefied gaze, she started to change, her eyes glowing like the fires of Hell and her canines turning to cruel, sharp fangs.
"Do you believe in the Devil?" she repeated, her voice now a bestial growl.
In sheer horror, he shut his eyes and started babbling to himself: "This isn't real you're not here I'm hallucinating again that's right just another hallucination I just need my meds I just need my meds my meds my meds…"
His hand moved to the side of the bed to grab his nurse call button, but Chloe beat him to it and snatched it out of his hand. He opened his mouth to scream. The blue-haired fury gagged him again before he could do so.
"I'll tell you what it is, Nathan," the punk growled. "I came back from Hell for you. To get justice for me, and for everyone else you've hurt, you little piece of shit, do you get me? Stop struggling."
In his frenzy, the boy was now flailing his arms around in a desperate attempt to free himself.
"I said, stop struggling!" Chloe ordered as she grabbed one of his arms with her free hand, twisted it to force him to turn and lie down on his belly, and kept her painful grip on his wrist while the hand that was holding his mouth had now moved to the back of his head, pinning him against his pillow. Max could hear his muffled screams sounding increasingly distressed.
"Chloe, watch out!" she called out. "You're gonna choke him! We're not here to kill him, remember?"
"I know, 'thou shalt not kill' and shit like that. I'll let him breathe in a minute," the punk said. "First…"
Her hand holding his wrist slowly moved up so she could grab his pinkie finger between her own thumb and index finger.
"This is for Rachel," she announced, and she snapped his finger.
Max cringed when she saw his body tense and heard his muffled wails grow louder and higher in agony.
"So, am I still a hallucination? This is for Kate Marsh," Chloe continued as she moved to his ring finger and broke it.
He yelled again in his pillow, and Max started shaking, a lump of ice forming in the pit of her stomach. She had never seen that side of Chloe, that… cruelty.
"And this," the punk continued as she moved to his middle finger, "this one's for me."
She broke it, his agony tripled.
"Chloe, stop!" Max pleaded. "That's enough!"
"Yeah, you're right, I think I got his attention now."
She turned him around again to lie him on his back, her hand back on his mouth.
"You killed me, Nathan, and Max here told me that Daddy's lawyers are trying to get me accused. Yes, they're trying to prove that the gun was mine, and I shot myself by accident when you tried to defend yourself. Now we both now this is not what happened, right? Right?"
He nodded, his face bathed in tears.
"Good. So you're gonna make sure everything you say to the cops, the judges or whatever, from now on, is the truth and nothing but the truth, Daddy and his lawyers be damned, do you get me?"
He nodded.
"And you're gonna tell Daddy's lawyers to stop harassing my mom and Kate Marsh. They're not gonna withdraw their complaints, I'll make damn sure of that. And while we're talking about Kate Marsh, you drugged her against her will, you're gonna make sure that's in every official statement. You and Jeffershit have traumatized the girl enough already, so if you or Daddy's lawyers do or say anything to try and drag her name through the mud from now on, I'll come back and gut you like a fish. Clear?"
He nodded.
"Good, that's good," Max said, "we got what we wanted, can we get out of here now?"
"Just one more thing. Prescott, pay attention: I'm gonna ask you a question, then I'm gonna let you speak. Don't try anything funny. Okay?"
He nodded.
"Good. Here's my question: who killed Rachel?"
She took off her hand and he just stared at her, breathing fast, an astonished look in his eyes.
"I hate to repeat myself," Chloe warned. "Look, I know you guys drugged her so you could take pictures of her, just like you did with the others, and I know she was overdosed. I want to know who did it. Who gave her the shot?"
"J-Jefferson did," he stuttered.
"Are you sure about that?"
"Y-Yes, he… he was the one who handled the drugs, not me! I was just his assistant!"
"Were you?" Max asked with a tone of reproof. "Weren't you the one who drugged Kate at the party?"
"Yeah," Chloe added, "and I think you pulled the same shit on me!"
"He what?" Max gasped.
"Tell you about it later."
"I put GHB in your glass, and same for Kate, but that's all!" he said. "But the drug he uses, with his syringe… that's his own thing, I don't know what's really in there. That's the thing that killed Rachel, I didn't do anything!"
"And just why should I believe you?" Chloe retorted angrily as she grabbed him by his collar. "Far as I know, you're a whiny little bitch who always try to put the blame on someone else! Like faking some mental issue to get pampered in a hospital instead of being fucked in the ass in jail like you should! Admit what you've done! Or perhaps I should break a couple more fingers? How about an arm?"
"Chlo, easy," Max intervened with a soothing voice.
"I'll go easy when he's confessed!"
"I think he just has, Chlo. I believe him."
Her friend stared at her, eyes wide in shock: "You do?"
"Yes." She took a deep breath, composing her thoughts. She remembered Victoria's words, about Nathan's poor mental health, and about how his father had denied him the help he really needed in favor of pills and more pills. She remembered how sad Victoria had been, telling her about it. She remembered he meant something to Victoria, and if he did, that meant he couldn't be a complete monster. "Listen," she resumed, "he's not faking it. He has real issues, I know that for a fact. I don't know what he's done to you, and when you tell me later – if you want to – I'm pretty sure I'll want to come back and skin him myself, because there will be no excuse, just like there's no excuse for what he's done to Kate, and the others. But he didn't kill Rachel. Look at him, he's lost, and terrified. No, wait, I'm not gonna claim he's a victim. He's still a sick fucker to me, but there's one thing he's certainly not, and it's a cold-blooded killer."
Chloe remained silent for a while, her eyes going from Max to Nathan and to Max again as she processed this and tried to make up her mind.
"Is that right?" she asked him.
"Of course it is! How could I kill her, I never wanted to hurt her, I loved her!"
These words felt like an electric shock to Chloe, and she abruptly pinned him down with one hand while raising her other hand in a closed fist, ready to punch his face in.
"The fuck did you just say?" she spat out.
"I loved her!" he cried. "For real, I did!"
"Yeah, right. You were stalking her around like a sick little fuck, that what you call love? You know what I think? I think you killed her because she didn't 'love' you back, and then you turned to me for revenge."
"No! I… I didn't even know about you two, I… I'm sorry for what I did to you, it was a fucking mistake, I was drunk out of my mind, but… Rachel, I loved her for real! But she only cared about Jefferson!"
"What the fuck's that supposed to mean?" Chloe snarled.
"She and Jefferson… you didn't know?"
"Bullshit!" she roared out. "It's bullshit!"
"It's the truth! But he got tired of her, said she didn't have what it took to be a real model… so he drugged her and took her to the Dark Room, he said he'd give her a chance to be a successful model for once in her life! He kept her drugged for days and days, taking pictures, a shitload of those! And then he… he said she'd be mine. He said he could make a cocktail of drugs so she wouldn't resist me, but…"
Chloe cried out in rage, and with one hand she lifted the helpless boy out of his bed and threw him down to the floor.
"Chloe, wait!" Max called, but her friend wouldn't listen as she was already on the floor too, straddling Nathan and clawing furiously at his face, crying:
"This is bullshit! Bullshit, bullshit, it's bullshit you sick fuck!"
Max grabbed her friend from behind and struggled to lift her up and carry her away from her victim.
"Chlo, calm down! Calm down! Don't kill him!"
The punk was in such a frenzy that she kept clawing in the air for a moment, while struggling to escape Max's grip, but the young photographer used all her strength to hold her still until, eventually, her rage receded and she remained there, in Max's arms, heaving with sobs.
"It's bullshit," Chloe repeated faintly.
"Shh," Max murmured as she rubbed her back gently. "It probably is, Chlo. I'm sure Nathan is telling what he thinks is the truth, but Jeffershit… he can be pretty convincing, trust me, he was my teacher. He saw Nathan's weaknesses and exploited them, lying to him to keep him under his thumb. I'm sure Rachel really didn't have anything to do with this piece of shit. But I'm also sure it's not Nathan who killed her. Jeffershit's the real bad guy here."
Together they contemplated the boy who was curled up on the floor, whimpering, his bloodied face buried in his hands. So pathetic. Max was right, Chloe decided. This broken shell of a teenage boy couldn't be a murderer. No chance in Hell.
"So… what do we do now?" she asked weakly.
"We do nothing," Max said. "He confessed. He promised to tell the truth, about everything. He and Jeffershit will get the punishment they deserve, and you, Kate and Rachel, you'll get the justice you deserve. That Dark Room thing is over, Chloe. We won."
"We won…" Chloe repeated with disappointment. What a bitter victory…
Then, much to the girls' surprise, Nathan laughed. Chloe was about to jump at him for daring to laugh in such a situation, but Max held her back: this didn't sound like a happy, mocking laugh at all. More like an expression of hysterical despair.
"Is that what you wanted?" he rasped. "To punish all those involved in the Dark Room? Oh, bitches, you're far from done."
"The fuck's that supposed to mean?" Chloe flared up.
"You thought Jefferson alone could pull it off? Just him and me?"
"Speak, Nathan!" Max urged him. "Is there anyone else involved?"
"This goes far, far beyond… far beyond Jefferson, beyond Blackwell…"
"Speak clearly or I'll rip your legs off!" Chloe roared, and she was already walking to him when Max grabbed her wrist.
"No! Chloe, he's… look at him!"
The boy was now cackling like a maniac while repeating, like a mantra: "Far beyond… far, far beyond…"
"He's rambling," Max said. "He's gone, we're not getting anything else out of him."
Outside, they heard a commotion: quick footsteps heading their way, worried voices talking: "Said the noise came from 314, we gotta check-"
"We must go now!" Max urged her friend.
"Just a minute," Chloe said calmly as she freed her arm, gave Max a reassuring gesture to let her know she wasn't about to do anything stupid, and stepped closer to Nathan.
When the boy saw her closing in, he moaned and curled up even tighter, folding his trembling arms around his head for protection.
"Are you scared, Nathan?" Chloe asked, her voice cold and dripping with sorrow and hate. "Good. This is how it feels to be a victim. Don't you forget that."
At that moment, the nurse and the two orderlies unlocked the door to Room 314, and were treated to the dreadful spectacle of Nathan Prescott curled up, hugging his own knees and rocking himself, chanting, his face scarred and bloody.
Alone.
The first lights of dawn appeared on the horizon. Standing on the catwalk surrounding the bulky tank of the water tower, leaning on the guard rail, Max was gazing at the scenery, a bottle of rum in one hand and a fat joint in the other. Behind and above her, she could hear the hiss of spray-paint cans, the sound of the artist at work.
"Are you done yet?" she asked.
"In a minute," Chloe answered. "Just the finishing touch…"
After they fled the hospital, they had returned to the shed. Chloe was still very upset and it had taken a while – and a lot of tears and cuddles – for her to calm down. Then she'd told Max about her past history with Nathan. About that night when she'd spotted him in a dive bar, drunk off his ass and throwing money around. About how she'd thought she could easily milk him for cash. And about how he'd roofied her and how she'd woken up lying down on his dorm room floor, her hands taped together, and this pervert looming over her, taking pictures. How she'd managed to free herself and run the fuck out of there.
When she was finished, Max was, as predicted, furious and distressed, and it had been Chloe's turn to hold her, and they'd stayed cuddled together in the shed for a long while, crying together. And then, after this cathartic relief, they could see the situation as it was now: it didn't matter anymore. What Nathan did to Chloe didn't matter anymore. What Jefferson did to all these girls didn't matter anymore. What lies Jefferson told Nathan about Rachel didn't matter anymore. The two men would be punished, their victims' honor would be restored. It was over. They had won. All that was left for them to do now was live their lives, rekindle their friendship, and for Chloe, to mourn Rachel, at last.
For the first time in six months, Chloe felt at peace. Of course she was grieving, but it was still a victory, and victories need to be celebrated. So she'd opened up a new bottle, rolled the biggest joint she could, taken her supply of paint cans in her truck (why the fuck did she carry those things in her truck in the first place?) and insisted on painting a new piece of artwork on the already heavily graffitied water tower overlooking the town, and here they were.
"There!" the punk declared proudly as she jumped down on the catwalk. "You can look!"
Max turned around and looked up to see Chloe's masterpiece.
Wowser! She's really good!
It was a huge painting of a red jolly roger, the classic skull and crossbones motif, with the only personal touch being the skull's long and sharp fangs. Over the figure were written the letters:
VPAB
And under it:
YO-HO-HO AND A BOTTLE OF BLOOD
"VPAB?" Max asked. "What does it mean?"
"That's our vigilante crew name," Chloe announced, beaming. "From now on, we shall be known as the Vampire Pirates of Arcadia Bay!"
Max snorted and rolled her eyes: "You're such a dork!"
"You're the dork, dork!" Chloe retorted with a hip check which Max happily returned.
"But seriously, it's very good!" the photographer commented. "It needs a picture! Wait a sec."
Even on scary vampire mode, Max never went anywhere without her Polaroid, so she took it out and immortalized her friend's art.
"Thank you, Max," Chloe said out of the blue.
"For what?"
"For making me live."
"Chlo, you thanked me enough already!" she replied with mock annoyance.
"I know, but I won't say it enough. You…"
"What?"
"Nothing. Just mushy crap."
"Well then say it. I love me some mushy punk!"
"Idiot," Chloe snorted. Then she got all serious and flustered. "I wanted to say, it's not just about bringing me back, it's… tonight, fucking around with you, I felt more alive than I've felt in a long, long time. It's been a tough night, a really tough one, but now the sun's rising and I realize I'm happy and it's all thanks to you."
Then she gave Max a peck on the cheek, which made the hipster's heart skip a beat. She looked up at her friend, astonished, and raised her hand to softly caress the spot on her cheek while smiling like an idiot. Chloe shrugged:
"Told you it was stoopid."
Max was absolutely lost for words, so Chloe felt the need to change the subject quickly: "Now how about you give me that joint? It ain't gonna smoke itself."
They leaned against the railing, side by side, sharing the weed and gazing at the scenery, relishing their late-night buzz.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Chloe commented.
They could see the whole bay from up there. To their right, the pine forest rose steadily up to the cliff where the lighthouse stood proud, overlooking the calm waters of the bay. To their left, between the beach and the woods, the whole sleeping town of Arcadia Bay. They could spot the Price-Madsen house, with its telltale half-painted exterior; the Two Whales diner, still lit up and active to supply tired cops and other night owls in much-needed coffee and donuts; the dark, sleeping buildings of the Blackwell campus; and beyond, growing out of the side of the town like a tumor, the sprawling construction site of the Pan Estates, Sean Prescott's pet project of luxury housing. Max pointed to it:
"Would be way more beautiful without that."
"Don't tell me about it," Chloe replied. "Shit's ugly as fuck and it'll be even worse once it's finished. Prescott fucker wants to turn Arcadia Bay into a tourist resort, you know? Once those fancy houses are built, rich fucks will move in from all over the country and make this place their own little playground, you know? Raise the real estate value, buy out businesses, open fucking golf courses everywhere, drive normal people like my mom out… our childhood town's as good as dead."
"This is horrible! Isn't there anything people can do?"
"Well, they tried, there were motions and shit, but Old Man Prescott, dude he practically owns the town… but maybe we can do something?"
"What you mean?"
"Think about it, Max: we got the power, we got a shitload of power, and we said we'd use it for the common good, right?"
"I remembered we talked about the bullies…"
"And rich assholes like Prescott are the worst bullies of all, they're bullies who think they can play with people's lives like it's nothing! We could use our power to drive him out, show him Arcadia Bay doesn't belong to him anymore: it belongs to the Vampire Pirates now, we own this shithole, and we're giving it back to the people!"
"Wow, chill out, Che Guevarra! This… is a good idea, I guess, but it's a huge undertaking! I don't even know where to begin!"
"We'll figure this out, SuperMax," she said with assurance as she wrapped an arm around her short friend's shoulders and dragged her closer to her. Max melted against her without even thinking. She used to do that all the time when they were kids, going limp whenever Chloe took her in her arms. She'd never wondered why. Maybe she liked the feeling of being held and supported by her taller, stronger friend? Whatever the reason was, even after five years away and now that they were almost adults, she still did that out of pure instinct, not even wondering if Chloe would mind.
She didn't.
"Don't worry, we will!" Chloe continued, then she waved toward her graffiti and added: "Bloody Roger's on overwatch now, no-one will fuck with this town ever again!"
Max giggled: "Bloody Roger? You gave it a name?"
"Of course! It's cool, isn't it?"
They stared at it for a while without adding anything, then turned to look into each other's eyes dreamily. It felt so nice, so safe, that Max was willing to buy in her every word. With Chloe by her side, everything seemed possible.
Then Chloe's phone buzzed, interrupting her reverie. The punk took it out, read the text, and snorted.
"Now that's a good one! Listen to this, Max: an American beer is really like making love in a canoe: both are fucking close to water."
Max snorted as well: "I don't know enough about beer to judge, really, but that's clever. Who sent you that?"
"Now I need to answer, do you know any French jokes? I think I'm dry."
"Chloe, are you still trading jokes with my teacher?"
"Like fuck I am! And he's good, he's never out of ammo! Gimme something, please!"
"Okay, okay, wait, I remember one… there it is: why do French people eat snails? Because they don't like fast food."
Chloe chuckled: "This is so lame it makes me laugh! Okay, that will do, I guess."
"You can thank Tori for this one."
Chloe raised an eyebrow: "Tori? You're not talking about Victoria, are you?"
Oops, Max thought.
"Err… maybe?" she said sheepishly.
"So, when exactly did you and Icky Vicky get so close?"
Max started feeling uneasy: "Well, uh, I told you she's nicer…"
"Being nice is one thing, but trading jokes and using nicknames is another level… so, you didn't tell me you were actual friends?"
The hipster blushed furiously: "It's a, err… oh, fuck, yeah, we're friends, what can I say? Since she got nicer we started talking, and we found out we have a lot in common, we really hit it off, so that's it."
"That's it? And you didn't feel like telling me earlier because…?"
"Because she told me the two of you had a history, and you already had a lot to deal with tonight, didn't want to add this to the pile, and have to explain and all," she said, talking faster and getting increasingly agitated, which was not lost on Chloe.
"Is this the only reason?" the punk asked, squinting inquisitively.
"Yeah, why?" Max asked, growing more and more anxious with every passing second.
"Look at me," Chloe ordered, and Max complied. They stared in each other's eyes for several seconds when suddenly, Chloe's look went wide and her mouth slack with utter shock, and then she burst out laughing. "I can't believe it!" she hollered. "You fucked her!"
"What? No, I-"
"Oh yes, you did! Don't lie to me, I know it! You fucked her and you liked it!"
"How do you know anyway? Have you developed a vampire mind-reading power?"
"Not at all, but I can smell sex, and I've had this power way before I became a vamp. It's a lesbian superpower. And right now, your eyes reek of hot, moist sex, hippie!"
Mortified, Max groaned and hid her face in her hands, but that wouldn't stop Chloe from teasing her:
"Now this is amazeballs! Little Miss Wallflower makes the Queen Bitch of Blackwell her own little bitch! What an amazing time to be alive! How long has it been?"
"Can we talk about something else? Please?"
"Hell no, you're not getting away that easy! Come on, tell me! How long?"
"Err… two days? Remember I told you about the Halloween party? She's the one who gave me the pill and then it… escalated quickly?"
"That's one hell of a way to say it! So, what next?"
"What do you mean, what next?"
"Details, hippie, give me DE-TAILS!"
"What? No fucking way! I mean, it's not like I remember much, I was fried, and even if I did remember, you don't need to know the details!"
"Of course I do! If I'm to spend long hours in the solitude of my coffin, I need some fantasy fodder to keep myself entertained!"
"Eww, Chloe! You really think knowing you'll use every bit of info I give you to touch yourself in your coffin makes me want to open up to you about my sex life?"
"Prude," Chloe teased.
"I'm not a prude!"
"Yes you are!"
"I'm not!"
"Prove it!"
"I… I'm not gonna play this game, I know how you love to find new ways to embarrass me!"
"Fair enough. Anyway, welcome to the Rug Munchers Club! I'm surprised really, didn't know you were one of us!"
Max smirked: "So you're a lesbian too, eh?"
"Yup, hella gay and proud! You don't look that surprised?" she asked with a raised eyebrow and impish grin that made her friend feel flustered.
The girl shrugged it off: "I kind of guessed already. I mean… you got this middle finger statuette in your room that's rainbow-colored… not exactly subtle."
"Yeah, I told you, I'm proud of it, so not exactly hiding it…" she paused and took a drag of a joint, a sudden wistful look in her eyes. "So, are you and Icky Vicky, like…?"
Max sighed: "I… don't know, really. She wants us to a have a movie date, tomorrow, and I said yes. That's… where we are for now."
"Do you want to have this date?"
"Yes, I… I think so… I mean, I'm pretty lost right now, with all that's going on, but… I kind of like her."
Chloe nodded thoughtfully, then asked: "And what about us?"
"What about us? Chloe, if you're afraid whatever happens between me and Tori will drive me away from you, it won't! I promise!"
The punk shrugged and looked away, struggling hard to hide her worry behind a veneer of don't-give-a-fuck attitude: "I'm not asking for anything, Max. You gave me my life back, I can't keep you from living yours…"
Max lay a comforting hand on her shoulder, and Chloe softened to the touch. "I promise," the hipster said. "I didn't go through all that to walk away from you again. Now, wherever you go, I go. I'm never leaving you. Ever."
Chloe smiled weakly and muttered a "thanks".
They stood in silence watching the sun rise for a moment more, until Max yawned and commented:
"Morning's coming fast. Maybe we should go get some shuteye? I still have class tomorrow. Or, I mean… later today."
"What's your first class?"
"At 11. Phys-Ed."
"Oh joy!" Chloe exclaimed with mock enthusiasm.
"Should be okay, I mean, it used to be torture, back when I sucked, but now… I guess they're in for a big surprise."
"Well I'll send you my thoughts and prayers while I laze off all day."
Max snorted: "I appreciate your support… seriously, what are you gonna do from now on? I mean, of course we'll spend our nights together, but while I'm in class and all?"
"I guess trying to figure out how to officially bring a punk back from the dead without freaking everyone out should keep my days busy for a while. And…"
"And what?"
She sighed: "I… I was thinking about what Nathan said. About the Dark Room thing being, you know, far bigger than we thought."
"You believe him? Chlo, he was… you saw him, he was totally out of his mind."
"I know. And I know that turning a pervo teacher and his student's secret photo project into a whole fucking conspiracy is ridiculous, I mean, life's not a goddamn video game, but still… if there's any chance… if there's even a single speck of truth in this… I have to try and find out. I can't stand the idea of there being even one more person involved in this that we don't know about and who's still running free. Gotta do this for Rachel. Question is… will you do it with me?"
Max looked in her friend's eyes, and was impressed by the intense resolve she saw in them. There was only one good answer to this, and she knew it. She looked down at Chloe's hand resting on the railing, and put her own hand on top of it.
"Wherever you go, I go, Captain."
Chloe smiled with gratitude and squeezed her friend's hand. They remained there, their fingers intertwined, smiling at each other in the dim light of dawn.
This is our town.
We are going to protect it.
Together.
We are the Vampire Pirates of Arcadia Bay.
Nothing can stop us.