Let's kill tonight!
Kill tonight!
Show them all you're not the ordinary type
PANIC ! AT THE DISCO
For the first couple of moments, after it happened, in the empty space between shuddered breaths, Eddie hardly registered anything that was going on around him.
His senses came back first; the sharpness of the air around them as the winter weather remained with a chilly crispy wind, the feel of soil beneath his fingers, the sound of silence, and the taste of blood in the back of his mouth.
The occurrence of what had happened also came in flashes, like someone was flipping through pictures in an album, but almost too fast for him to see: Screaming, yelling, woods, baseball bat, blood.
Shit, a lot of blood.
It was coating his hands.
It seemed like one moment he was on the ground, staring up at the night sky, and the next time he blinked, he was cradling Jason Carver's head, of all things, body shaking so hard he thought he would shatter at any second.
"He's dead."
His voice was not recognizable to him, not at first. He startled back, wondering who spoke those words with such clarity, such sureness, and it was only when he looked down and, in the shine of the moonlight, saw his fingers pressed against Jason's neck that things clicked together.
Jason's head was split open. There was no pulse. He was holding a dead body.
"Oh frick, oh no, oh no-,"
A laugh ripped its way from his throat at the absurdity of it.
"I think, perhaps, in this case, you're allowed to swear, Chrissy."
Chrissy, leaning against a tree, and seemingly that was the only thing keeping her upright, opened her mouth. Whether it was to argue or yell at Eddie, he wasn't sure. All that came out was a garbled cry, something intermingled with the most breathtaking feeling of release, and then she was outright sobbing.
"He's dead," Eddie repeated, though he wasn't sure why.
Chrissy wasn't going to argue it. She could hardly do anything.
That was alright; when it mattered, she did something. A very drastic something, that is. When Jason had been coming at Eddie with the intent to kill - and they both knew it- Chrissy grabbed Steve's bat off the ground and ferociously swung at Jason's head.
Perhaps a little bit too ferocious, Eddie began to think, but then he remembered that it had been the fall itself that had likely killed him. Jason had gone down like a fallen tree, too surprised to brace himself, and had smashed his head upon a jutting rock.
That's the sound that had made Chrissy puke. That's when Eddie had no doubt rushed to him. He somehow knew that he was bleeding out far too fast to do anything, but he had to try.
Sure, the bat to the back of the head might have given him a concussion, but it was the rock. It was the rock that killed him. He could have tripped. People die from stuff like that all the time.
That's what he tried to tell Chrissy, who was just curled up, shaking.
"It wasn't your fault," He mumbled, but deep down, he knew that this town would come for Jason's blood.
They'd been looking to crucify Eddie for weeks now. This would be perfect.
And throw in a deliciously deviant story that Chrissy was actually not a goody-two-shoes, but a drug dealer's whore? Well, the town would change its tune on her so quick. All the relief that she'd woken up would be erased with a snap of some over-eager journalist's fingers, and it would just be like so.
Hell, they'd get a sentence. People would be eager for their demise. They'd call it fair. They'd call it 'justice in action'. They'd be the news for a few days, but even then, their deaths would fade away and they'd just be gone.
"An eye, for an eye, for an eye," Eddie mumbled, halfway deliciously to himself.
"Eddie! Pick up! Do you read me!" Dustin's voice broke through his internal monologue. It was static and hardly able to be heard over the sound of thunder rolling in from the north, but Eddie lunged for the talkie.
And then paused.
What the fuck was he going to say?
"Dustin…man," He started, his voice quivering.
"Oh, thank god! He's alive, guys!" Dustin relayed to the Party, "We thought you were toast. We saw Jason going after you and he was pissed as hell. Be careful, he could still be-,"
"He's…not a problem anymore."
There was a long, anxiety-inducing pause between the next words, "Why do I really hate the way you said that, Munson?" It was Nancy who had taken over.
"Because you will," Eddie replied back, "You all need to get here. And get here like yesterday."