-Dedicated to blakkRose
This dedication is for entering my competition and WINNING xD For a first-time horror writer, she really impressed me with her version of Chapter Eight of Cheater [Go to her Profile & check that out]. Unfortunately, I've uploaded a different version of C8, but hers was fantastic and deserves a lot of recognition, as does her other story Tiger Lily. Well done.
Chapter Eight
“Do you want anything, Mr Moretti?” The young, red-lipped nurse with a rack like two basketballs, smiles at Frankie.
Oh, I could write a list...
“No, I’m fine, Busty.” SHIT. “I mean, Barbie.” Oh, come on! “Sorry, what was your name again?”
“Cindy.” She flashes her cutest smile.
“Sorry. Cindy.” He replies. That list would’ve gotten him jailed, anyway. He’s pretty sure half of the things on there were illegal, maybe even three-quarters.
“Just ‘buzz’ if you need me.” She giggles, a little over the top, and waits a few moments before she leaves, allowing a nice, long look at her...
RING! RING! Why hadn’t he changed that annoying ringtone? You know the one that’s so irritating that you answer the call only to make it stop...
“Hello?”
“Frankie.” This was the other voice, aside from “Nurse Busty’s”, that Frankie was glad to hear.
“Cole.”
“I’m so sorry. I should’ve...” He trails off.
“It’s okay. I’m okay. I stopped short of the truck.”
“Good. Listen, I’m on my way.” He was rushing his words. By the sound of all the horns in his background, he was rushing, literally.
“What’s up?”
“Don’t freak out,” Cole takes a breath, “But I think someone is targeting us.”
Oh... Come on.
“I know that.” Frankie rolls his eyes, “I already... Forget it.”
“Frankie, this is important!”
“I’m listening.” Frankie replies. With a push of a button, his bed reclines slowly.
“I don’t know who it is, but together, we can...” Crackle. Crack. Crackle, “Ok? So, I’ll be there in five. Lock all doors, lock the windows. Stay safe, Moretti.”
“You sound like my mom.” He cuts the phone and sighs, relaxing.
Frankie does what Cole says. The room is completely killer-proof.
One thing still pesters his mind. It was on the tip of his tongue while he was driving. Her name... What was her name?
Just then, a scream from the hallway outside...
“Nurse Busty!”
It doesn’t occur to Frankie that this could all be a trap.
That this could be her...
Waiting for him.
“You...” He manages to say.
Several screams later and the hospital is filled with silence.
By the time Cole arrives at the hospital, the sirens say it all. He’s too late. He gets into his car, tears flooding his eyes, covering his cheeks. He leans on the wheel, sobbing.
“What’s happening...?”
If he’d walked inside, he would’ve seen the police roaming all over the hospital.
He would’ve seen the shocked doctors, the terrified nurses, the inconsolable Nurse Busty.
He would’ve seen the walls, seen the new ‘paintjob’ she’d done for them.
A huge splatter of dark red blood. His body lay against the wall, lifeless.
The clock to the right of Cole provides an incessant, now annoying, tick. He glances at it: 9:48. They’d been here for two hours, edging up to three now.
When will this end?
“So then what?” Cole demands, “You killed him?”
“Now, now...” She steps closer to him, ruffles his dark blond hair, “Did I say that?”
“I hate you...” He mutters.
“What was that?” She snarls at him with murderous eyes.
“Nothing.”
She notices him glancing at the clock, takes his chin with her whole hand and turns it to face her. Down, his eyes fly.
“Look at me.” His vision makes him feel weaker. It confuses him. Everything just blurs into several pictures whenever he tries to focus.
“No.”
“Look at me.” She shakes his head all about, dizzying him further, “Look at me now.”
“I...” He starts
But she doesn’t allow him to finish, “You can’t or you won’t?”
“I can’t.”
At this, she releases her grip from his chin, leaving her deep, red fingerprints and even scratch marks from the way she yanked her hand.
Hands on hip, she stares at the clock, “Aww,” She tears away her gloves, ripping one of them in the process, “We’re running out of time.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Guess.” She smiles, her scoffs turn to cackling.
“I don’t know.” He is still struggling with his hands, quietly, unnoticeably, “I just don’t know.” He, himself, is unsure of whether he is answering her question or still asking himself why he has been put here.
“God, you act so innocent.”
“That’s because I am.”
“Again?” She taunts.
“I’m innocent.” He growls. Either she was hard of hearing, or she only did it because she could. But it was getting to Cole, angering him.
“You’re not.”
“For G...” He sighs, tears welling up in his despair-filled, blue eyes, “I don’t know...” A pause, “What I did wrong. Why did my friends have to suffer for it? Why?” The tears roll down, as he sniffles softly.
“Why shouldn’t they? After what you did...” She shakes her head.
His handcuffs are soaked with blood by now, “Why can’t you just let me go?”
It can’t be...
An actual sniffle... an actual teardrop just hit the floor. In between the ticks of the clock, he hears it hit the floor. She’s crying.
“Why couldn’t you just let her live?”