Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.
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"are we too young for this?" -softcore, the neighborhood
song to listen to: can't pretend by tom odell
warnings: gun violence, descriptions of violence, anxiety, panic, fear, swearing, descriptions of injuries, descriptions of anxiety, this is a very anxiety inducing chapter
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jennifer peters's point of view
"Jen. Jen!" Josh's voice was full of fear; I gasped and sat straight up from a slumped position I hadn't been aware that I was ever even in. "Jen, what the fuck just happened to you?!"
"Rosi-Rosie, it's-" I didn't know what to say, or how to say it.
How do I explain that the Sheriff of Shadyside and Sunnyvale is the reason behind the massacre of 1978 and the current one of 1994, and that his ancestors are responsible for every single Shadyside massacre? To Josh Johnson? He's a horror buff, so of course he'll eat all that shit up, but still. It wasn't going to be easy. Sheriff Nick Goode sold Shadyside to the Devil so that Sunnyvale could prosper. His ancestor, Solomon Goode, burned my great-a-million-times-over-aunt alive because she discovered the secret. She's been protecting the Peters ever since.
Sarah Fier and Rosie Peters were not the witches that every history book thinks they are, they were innocent. Of course, they both had their flaws, but the only thing 'wrong' with them was that they found out the truth. They discovered the truth about what Solomon Goode did, and they were both murdered for it. Now I knew the truth, and there wasn't a doubt in my mind that Deena was busy discovering the truth right now as well.
"We're targets." I finally breathed out, and Josh had never looked more confused.
A police siren sounded, and I turned around in the car to see that Nick Goode's cruiser was pulling up to the three of us. Speaking of the Devil, I thought while trying to clear my thoughts. We needed to get Deena, and we needed to get out of here now. But we also needed to act completely natural. Nick's car door opened about thirty seconds later, after Josh and I had scrambled out of the car.
"You okay," he asked with a fake tone of concern. He closed his car door and nodded towards the both of us. "Need help?"
"Uh...uh-" Josh was back on his stuttering bullshit.
"No, Sheriff, we're all good! No pun intended," I laughed awkwardly. "We're good right here."
"Middle of the night." He was walking over at a threateningly slow pace, shining his flashlight into the forest. "What brings you back here?"
