Cold Blood

❥ Chapter Eight ❥

Written by ChemicalWonderland

Everett's POV

The carnival is a collection of brightly colored booths and striped tents set up on the edge of town, bordered by woods. I can hear the sound of voices carried on the wind, the laughter of children and adults alike. Soon, the laughs will turn to screams.

The air is crisp and fresh. Sun filters down onto the forest floor and shines through the tall trees surrounding Ash and I. My impala is parked a few feet away, hidden by thick green underbrush. The two of us stand behind a wide tree trunk, guns clenched tightly in our hands. Adrenaline races through my veins and my heart is beating out of my chest as I review the plan in my head over and over again like a broken record.

"Ready, Ash?" I whisper into the harsh silence of the forest, and he nods back in response, his face considerably pale, like a ghosts.

I just hope he doesn't make a mistake, because then I'll definitely have to kill him.

Creeping closer and closer to the carnival buildings, I'm able to better survey the scene. The fairground is decked out with wooden stands holding a variety of junk foods, from popcorn to cotton candy. Small games are dotted about, and families gather around them happily. And among all the commotion, I spot the hall of mirrors, a sign posted next to an obnoxious red and yellow tent. Just as I look over, a teenage couple pull back the flap and walk inside.

I nudge Ash with my shoulder, and look into emerald green eyes filled with determination and a certain hunger. He's noticed the hall of mirrors too.

Carefully navigating my way through the woods, Ash at my heels, I feel my heart plummet, but in a pure excitement only a killer can feel. I know that if I were to look in a mirror, my eyes would be wild with excitement.

I make note of watching every slight movement that I make, cautiously stepping over large sticks and avoiding rocks. I also glance up at the carnival scene, making sure no one is watching us, and I find that everyone is too engaged in their own lives to be paying any attention to two guys wielding guns sneaking through the forest.

As we come closer to the hall of mirrors, all noises seems to die out around me, as if isolating Ash and I. There's a pounding, blood rushing sound in my ears as I pull up my hoodie to conceal my face and check to make sure my gun has been loaded properly, although I already know it is. I just can't leave any room for mistake.

Heading toward the back door of the tent, I quietly pull away the flap and peer inside. It appears as though there are hundreds of mirrors, each one reflecting my darkened face and bloodshot eyes. People mill around, oblivious to my presence. There also seems to be no carnival staff in sight. Motioning for Ash to follow me, I casually slip inside.

The air is musty, making it difficult to breathe. I feel as though I'm suffocating, and the only way to cure that feeling is to get into action.

I mouth the words "split up" to Ash, and he seems to understand, heading to the right, his skinny, shadowy reflection cast upon the faces of dust-covered glass.

Moving in the opposite direction, I face away from the mirrors so that I'm not distracted by my own reflection, no mirrors placed against one wall of the tent. I keep my gun held close to my body, and look around for any people. The voice of a teenage girl soon fills my ears.

"I can't believe I let you drag me in here," she whines to what I see is a teenage boy as they round the corner. They don't see me hiding in the darkness of the shadows.

The boy rolls his eyes at the girl and throws an arm across her shoulder. "Why, scared of the dark?" he asks, grinning at her mischievously.

She punches him playfully in the shoulder, and they both laugh happily. I almost pity them and how clueless they are to what's about to happen.

They pass by me, and I take that as my cue to stand up. My body is cast against the mirrors, revealing my being here, but not my physical appearance. Raising my gun to the back of their heads, I prepare to shoot. My finger shakes on the trigger, and I press down on it with rapid finality, sealing the fate of my victims. I shoot the girl first, then the boy. They don't even have time to react before they drop dead to the bare dirt floor.

Frantic voices rise around me, a woman's voice asking worriedly, "Were those gunshots?"

Suddenly, Ash's gun fires, causing screams to erupt from the far end of the tent.

"What's going on, Mommy?" a little girl's voice says shakily, but soon another shot sounds and she screams.

There's silence for half a second, everyone probably in shock. Then the sound of people bustling around to try and escape, but it's useless. An essential part of our plan was Ash's ability to secure the front flap door closed, and it seems as though he's succeeded.

Raising my gun to a mirror across from me, I shoot at it and quickly duck, the bullet ricocheting off the wooden frame. I shoot again. And again. More frantic screams. Ash fires too.

I begin walking hurriedly to what I believe is the center of the hall of mirrors, shooting at the ceiling as I go. Another crucial step in our plan was to get everyone in one place at one time so it would be easier to kill them. If they heard gunshots, they would naturally try to get away from the sound, soon finding themselves exactly where we were trying to trick them to go.

I eventually reach the spot the two of us had discussed, my blood pumping furiously. A few people are already there, and Ash soon appears opposite from me with the rest of them, his gun aimed at their heads.

"Glad we could all meet up," I begin, surveying the scared and tear-stained faces before me. My deep voice seems projected a million times more by the sudden silence. "You're probably wondering what's going on here. Please, allow me to clear up any confusion. You're all going to die."

Some people cry, others scream, some yell. Its a chaotic scene. "SHUT UP!" Ash's voice breaks in, instantly shutting everyone up. His pale face is cast in shadows, his fists clenched. "Shut up," he repeats, his voice now deadly calm. I'm impressed.

"Now, if you'll all do me a favor, and get down on your knees execution style, that would be absolutely fabulous," I say.

The people are frozen for a few seconds, clearly stricken with fear. But then Ash yells at them to move, and they all do as they are told, shaking and nervous and crying.

Once everyone is in position, I say, "Thank you for your cooperation. Now, where should I start?" I pace the line in front of me indecisively.

My eyes lock with warm brown ones. Walking over to the middle-aged lady that had caught my attention, I gaze down at her with a smirk. Her mouth is agape, and she can't seem to form any words to speak, just simply shaking her head fervently. Tears stream down her eyes like a waterfall and she is visibly shaking.

"Hello there sweetheart," I whisper, bringing my gun to her forehead. I can already feel the impact it will make, and can already see her body falling to the floor.

I stare right into sweet chocolate irises, and pull the trigger. Her face is instantly morphed into one of complete shock, as if she expected me not to shoot her. She collapses with a dull thud, and immense power courses through me at the sight. I laugh in spite of myself. I look back at Ash, who is staring at me like I'm some sort of god. But I'm not a god. I am just the opposite. I am the devil in a gray hoodie and jeans.

"C-can I go?" he asks nervously, and I can tell he's itching for the opportunity.

"Go ahead, nobody's going to stop you."

He steps forward, his eyes hidden behind his dark, wispy black bangs. Placing a gun at a man's head, he quickly shoots and stares in morbid fascination at his body and the pool of blood that forms in the dirt where he drops. He looks over to me as if for approval, and I incline my head as a sign that he should keep going. He laughs maniacally as I just had, and shoots three more people, going through the motions almost too fast for me to keep track. I enjoy the kill and everything about it, but Ash enjoys the action and intensity, the build-up to the release. He wants to get it over with, because he lives in the moment.

And as my partner turns his weapon on an older woman distraught with terror, I realize how useful he could become to me. Maybe this is the start of some legacy. Maybe we'll be legends once we die, going down in history forever.

Ash and I will be like a crimson blood stain in our town's history, a lasting reminder of tragedy.