// TRIGGER WARNING FOR VIOLENCE //
• • •
Student's Point Of View
Of all the things I have done today, staying home should have been one of them. First I had forgotten my phone on my night stand next to my bed and then I left my research paper on my laptop, unprinted and half finished. Not to mention, I had planned on finishing it during first period study hall, but all plans of that were immediately shattered, just like my grade point average is about to be.
I discovered all of this too late and it almost made me just say screw school and go home, but my attendance record has not been the best this year. I have already been told that if I miss another day of school, I could be on the verge of being held back another year. That is something I will not be doing and if I have to risk getting a zero on a research paper, then it will just have to do.
However, my teacher was not too happy when she heard my excuse as to why I did not complete my paper. That of which I was not surprised to hear either. Although, I was surprised when I found out that she would give me another day to complete this assignment.
I thought this shitty day was finally turning around. Literally just this morning, something was telling me that I should have probably stayed home, but now I cannot find a reason as to why I should have. Everything seems to be going fine. Except for this stupid history lecture that is. Mr. Johnson is literally dragging on and on about how much he hates the reasons behind some war. I am not gonna lie. It is pretty boring and I would rather be anywhere else.
I contemplate whether or not I should stay in class to maybe try and learn something to better help my grade, but then again, half of the class is zoning in and out anyway. Maybe if no one is paying attention and we all fail the next test, he will just throw it out. Then again, he has been known to try and make it an absolute bitch to pass his class.
Against my better judgment, I raise my hand and ask, "Can I please use the bathroom?"
He stops his talking all at once and gives me the nastiest look I have ever seen him give to a student. It is like he is exaggerating down to the last possible moment of just how mad he is that I interrupted his snooze fest.
Then, it is like he cocks an idea because his eyebrows raise up immediately and he crosses his arms over his chest in challenge. Sighing, a smirk graces his lips as he says, "I don't know. Can you?"
And it was in this exact moment, I felt like I could run up and strangle this man to the floor, feeling no remorse. I absolutely hate teachers who think they are so witty and feel like they are the encyclopedia of jokes. I am asking to relive myself of my pee. I did not ask for all the sass.
"May," I put extra emphasis on this line, lacing it with annoyance to make sure to bring it to his full attention, "I use the bathroom?"
"Yes," he nods, raising a finger to point to the bathroom passes hanging on the hook across the room as if I had not known they were there. "Just take that with you."
I sigh and shuffle out of my seat to begin to walk over to the hanging passes. I snatch one off of the hook with a quiet scoff as Mr. Johnson goes back to rambling on in front of half asleep students. I laugh to myself as I pass through the door and slam it behind me, sure enough waking up the students from their slumber and aggravating the teacher even more.
Something that catches my eye right away is the eerie silence filling up the hall as I make my way to the bathroom. It is like there is no life in here whatsoever and it sends a chill up my spine. Of course it is odd to notice this, but this is high school. It is common for at least one student to be roaming the halls during class and maybe two teachers patrolling the area, but I find none.
The air is heavy and full, causing me to loose my breath very quickly, but I do not think too much of it. Many kids smoke in the bathrooms around this time, so that must be the cause. Maybe that is where most of the students that normally roam the halls went.
Moving forward to continue approaching the bathroom, I hear the faint sound of a quiet scream come from behind me and it causes me to stop in my tracks completely. I feel as if the breath from my lungs has been stolen completely and the chills on my body have taken their rightful place on every space of available skin. I want to turn around, but my brain will not allow me. I fear that if I even tried to, I would fall to the ground immediately.
Of course it is just a scream, but the fear that it withheld was an enough to make me sick to my stomach. I do want to know the cause, but maybe it would be better if I did not. However, my questions are answered when the echo of a gunshot rings through the hall like a pin hitting the floor of a quiet room. It stops everyone in their tracks no doubt, but lucky for me, I was already stopped and able to process. Before I could even think about running, a hand on my bicep brought me back to reality as I barely saw myself being pulled into the janitors closet I was standing next to.
Whoever pulled me in here has their hand wrapped tightly around my arm as they quietly shut the door behind us. I swear, this person could very well be some type of snake. Their grip is absolutely killer.
Now that the door is shut, it is completely dark inside the small space, leaving me to wonder who came to my safety. Their shallow breaths are the only things letting me know that I did not just make this whole thing up. Their grip has not ceased on my arm and if I was not so startled, I might ask them if they could please remove themselves from me. That does not seem too likely though.
Once again, my questions are answered when the light above us flickers on from them reaching up and pulling the brass cord dangling down from the fixture. Looking down to my savior, I see the most striking green eyes I have ever come across in my entire life. She is breathtakingly beautiful from every angle, yes, even in this shitty lighting. Her hair is black, just like the families will be wearing at the funerals of most of these students. Her lips are dark red like the blood that is sure to be pouring down the hallways now. Her skin is pale and glowing, almost as pale as a ghost, which is what most of these students are sure to become.
"What's your name," she asks in a deep, raspy voice that is fitting for her. Is it wrong to think that this may be the sexiest voice I have ever heard? Or is it just my head making up things as I approach my death?
Wait. What was she asking? My name. That's right.
"Hannah," I barely croak out, feeling my cheeks warm up as the embarrassment creeps in. I curse myself for being so awkward in times like these, but may be I will not have to worry about it soon. For now I will just worry about how I am alone, in a closet, with a beautiful girl. "What's yours?"
"I'm Lauren," she smiles, too calm for my liking, but maybe she just has faith that we will be okay. It is her confidence that is keeping me sane at the moment. "Although, Hannah is quite a pretty name."
"I don't want to die," I say without thinking, quickly dismissing the fact that she just called my name pretty. Any other time I would have lost my cool, but I cannot seem to focus on anything else but death now that the screams outside are starting to become more constant, along with the gunshots becoming increasingly louder.
"Don't think about things like that," she coos, rubbing down the back of my arm softly with her hand. Looking into her eyes, I feel myself becoming more and more relaxed. "Just think about something else."
"What else," I ask, clearly trying to hint at the fact that there is a freaking murder outside the door trying to kill us.
"I don't know," she replies honestly, still keeping her movements going on my arm calmly and I have to admit, it feels pretty damn good. "That is just what people say in the movies."
"I wish this was a movie," I say honestly because in actuality, it would make this whole thing ten times easier to understand.
"Me too," she smirks, stepping closer into my proximity with a small smile on her face. She wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me into her side as I reciprocate immediately by wrapping an arm around her shoulder. At this point, I cannot tell if I am hugging her or if she is hugging me, "but let's just try to stay quiet for now, yeah?"
I nod at her words, too afraid to even try to talk as it becomes increasingly obvious that the killer is just outside the door, if not coming towards it already. The footsteps are heavy and bearing, unlike a student or teacher would be at this time. This person could care less if they are heard and that causes me to become sick to my stomach.
As the door handle rattles from the other side, I clench onto Lauren's shoulder even harder as she does the same with my waist. The shrieking sound of the old metal pierces our ears and sends even more chills over my body. I close my eyes tightly, to afraid to stare my immediate death in the face, but I am not afraid to be a coward in this situation.
The next thing I know, I can hear the door swing open violently, almost breaking a hole in the wall behind it as it does so. I can feel Lauren's shallow breaths on my neck as a quiet whimper leaves her lips.
"What do we have here," a girls voice broke through the closet, causing me to paint a picture of a very tall, muscular woman in my head. "Am I interrupting your alone time?"
An eerie chuckle began to slip her lips as I could make out the quiet sound of a gun being shifted around in her hands. Next to me, Lauren was practically clawing down into my skin.
"Oh come on," she prods teasingly, letting out another evil laugh, "I wanna see your pretty eyes sweetheart."
Reluctantly, I open them to find my breath taken away from yet another beautiful girl standing in front of me. Her wonderful body is covered in red blood and I can only assume that she has been quite busy since I was pulled into the closet. Her eyes are dark and full of hatred as she stares at me with the most intense stare down I have ever received in my life. On her face is the blood of her victims, painted there like war paint as if she is flaunting the fact that she has killed numerous people. The most horrifying part is the rather large gun hanging from around her neck like a necklace, that too covered in blood.
"That's better," she smirks, stepping forward into the closet to fully step into Lauren and I's personal space. I look over to the girl beside me for a split second to see that her eyes are trained on the killer with so much fear behind them, that I am surprised she has not passed out. "Sadly, your pretty little eyes are exactly what I need missy."
The next thing I know, I am being pulled by the killer out into the hallway, with Lauren securely fastened to my hip. We are both being pulled behind the girl with such force, it might have given me whiplash. The killer girl has her hand tight around my wrist with a death grip much like Lauren's and I find myself wanting to rip out of it. Although, I do not think I would be able to even if I tried.
The girl comes to a stop in front of the classroom and then sits Lauren and I up against the wall while advising us it would be in our best interest if we stayed put until she returns. Then, she disappears into the classroom and screams are heard shortly there after as some gun shots are fired off in the small space. I find tears forming in the corners of my eyes. Not only because I am for sure going to die, but because nobody in this building deserves to be murdered. Not even some of the most delinquent students could have ever deserved this.
Shortly after entering the classroom, the girl returns dragging a young boy behind her who is scrambling to get out of her reach. She stays firm, keeping a firm lock on his wrist as she slings him down right in front of the two of us. His head hits the floor hard enough to disorient him for the time being and it seems to do just that. She looks between our frightened face and the boy now laying on the ground with a wicked smirked attached to her lips.
"Well," she sighs, drawing her hands on her hips mockingly, "I'm gonna need a volunteer for this next part."
A volunteer? For what possibly could she need a volunteer? For my death? Absolutely not. Now that I think about it, it does not make sense to me why she is prolonging my death. If she wants me dead, she should just get it over with. She looks between our faces with a smirk still plastered on her blood red lip and then her shoulders fall disappointingly.
A small pout forms on her lips, almost childlike as she begins shaking her head back and forth. Her hand falls to her pockets as she pulls out a small handgun from her right one and throws it down on the ground in front of her foot, then steps on it to keep it in place.
"I was kinda hoping one of you guys would make this interesting," she laughs, looking down at the terrified boy that has not moved since she placed him on the ground, "but since none of you are willing to help me out, I guess I'm just gonna have to choose."
She begins to move towards me mockingly, pulling her hands out of her pockets to grab my shoulders and stand me up next to her. I try to fight her grasp, but it is just too strong to try and retaliate. That leaves me no choice in this situation. I am really screwed.
I stand firm next to her as she kicks the gun under her foot over to me and points for me to pick it up. I do as she wishes, but I can only imagine what she wants me to do with it. I mean, she probably wants me to kill someone, but I only wanna kill her.
"Okay sweetie," she says, moving over to the boy on the ground and moving him over so I can see his face fully now. Not only his, but Lauren's face now comes into view and what I see makes me just wanna run over and hug her relentlessly, "you see, this boy here crossed me the wrong way and well, let's just say you don't wanna cross me the way he did."
I look down to see the fresh tears leaving his eyes and dropping down onto the cold, hard floor. His body is shaking violently and I can only assume he knows what his fate is gonna be. I just do not understand how someone can be okay with putting someone through this much pain.
"Now sweetheart," the killer talks at me while moving towards Lauren, who is still up against the wall. She grabs her and pulls the shaking girl into her arms, thrashing out a knife from her pocket and holding it up to Lauren's neck. The green eyed girl whimpers at the feeling of the cold blade against her heated flesh and I momentarily feel my body try to give out, "I want you to put that bullet through his head. Do it and I'll think about letting you two live, but if you don't... let's just say your girlfriend's blood is gonna make some nice wall decorations."
My body runs cold as the thought of taking the life of another human being crosses my mind. This boy on the ground is completely innocent and as far as I know, has a family at home waiting for him. He has a life worth living for and this girl is asking me to take it all away from him. How am I supposed to look someone in the eye and tell them it's over? I do not want to. Looking over to Lauren, I see her desperately trying to get out of the girl's hold, but she is not going anywhere and I have to make a decision.
I know neither of them and I wish I had not even talked to Lauren because maybe it would make this easier. If there was not any attachment to either one of them, then maybe I would have come out of this guiltless. Who am I kidding? If I come out of this, I'm leaving a killer either way. I just do not want to see Lauren get her neck slashed out.
"Don't do it, Hannah," I hear Lauren shout through the hall, her voice breaking down halfway through her sentence. I look back over and watch as the tears run down her face and then I switch back down to the boy who has his eyes completely shut.
The sudden wave of guilt that over comes me is one I will surely never forget as I raise the gun towards the body on the floor. He still has not moved an inch, possibly too frozen in fear to even try, but that does not help make this any easier.
"Hannah," Lauren shouts one more time, but I cannot bring myself to look at her this one last time. I cannot even bring myself to look at the boy on the floor, so I shut my eyes and hold the gun tighter in my hand. The cold steel feels like the sudden air around me and I cannot help but feel like I am suffocating. My lungs scream for a release that I cannot give them and body knows the trauma it is about to forgo.
Feeling the shiver down my skin begin to move throughout my body, I whisper loud enough for the boy below me to hear, "I'm sorry."
And then, I pull the trigger as if my life depends on it and not Lauren's. The sound pierces through the air and sends a thousand different emotions through my body. One, I feel numb and disoriented because I am fully aware of what I have just done. Two, I feel sick because I just took the life away from someone who did not deserve that treatment whatsoever. Three, I feel shocked that I actually did this to someone else. Four, I feel powerful and in control. The last one scares me the most because it gave me the greatest rush I have ever experienced in my life.
"Great," the killer says contently, dropping Lauren to the floor like she is absolutely nothing to her. She slides over to me and rips the gun from my hand before I could do anymore damage to myself or her. "Now let's get you two back into the closet then."
She places the gun back into her coat pocket and swiftly pulls Lauren and I up by our wrists. The new feeling that has overcome me is one I will surely never forget, but I also will never forget the look on that poor boys face as I did the unthinkable. And for what? A girl who will probably not even talk to me now.
Lost in thought, I hardly realize I am being pushed into the closet by the girl once more and then the door being slammed in our face by her grand exit. The light is still on from earlier, allowing me to see Lauren's tear stained cheeks under he dim light and the remorse that overcomes me replaces any and all feeling of power. All that is left is sadness and despair.
"Why would you do that," she asks quietly, almost like she is afraid I will pull out a gun and shoot her too.
"I thought it would be easier," I respond truthfully because I truly did think that way in that moment, but now, I am not so sure. "I didn't know that boy, but I talked to you. I just thought because I didn't know his name or anything about him that it would be easier to do."
She nods understandingly, but I can tell by the look in her eyes that her thoughts are racing. "Was it?"
I look up at her and try to convey what I am feeling exactly to her through my eyes, but I do not know if she gets the message. I cannot put to words what I am feeling because it is coming at me from all different directions and it is constantly changing it's mind.
"I don't know," I say, shrugging my shoulders as she begins to walk closer to me and envelop me in a loving embrace. Caught off guard at first, I do not reciprocate, but once it hits me, I find myself wrapping my arms around her back and pulling her toward me tightly.
"Thank you," she mumbles into my shoulder, her tears immediately staining my shirt, but it is little to compare to the blood on my hands now. "It means a lot that you would do that for me."
"I would say no problem," I manage to answer her back without loosing touch on my voice. If anything, I was expecting it to waver immediately due to our sudden contact, but luckily, my inner teenager has settled down a lot since earlier, "but then I'd be lying to you."
"Yeah," she drags out, pulling away from our embrace, but not before placing a gentle kiss on my cheek. "You know, under different circumstances, I'd offer to take you out sometime."
I manage to stifle a laugh in such a cold situation, but I decide on the fact that this girl just has that effect on me. "Yeah, that'd be great."
I watch as her eyes flicker down to my lips and then back to my eyes before her head leans forward towards mine. I find myself taking a sharp intake of breath before her soft lips are pressed up against mine in a sweet kiss. Her lips are soft, unlike any others I have ever kissed and her body is so warm, unlike the atmosphere around us. She makes it so easy to forget about everything that has just taken place and I do not know whether to thank god this happened so I could meet her, or if I will look back on this day and regret every second.
Our kiss is interrupted by the door being swung open to reveal the murder in all her glory. Her gun slung over her back shoulder like a trophy and her body still wet with fresh blood, although, this time it appears to be much more coated on her clothes. She has got this wicked smirk placed on her lips as she looks between Lauren and I.
"Okay baby, the cops are on the way," she speaks, directing every word towards Lauren. The green eyed girl steps back from me and I turn over to see the smile on her face as she wipes her lips from our kiss.
"You promised me an hour, Y/N," she jokes, her hand running through her dark locks as she moves over to the girl in the doorway whose arms are crossed firmly against her chest.
"I'll make it up to you later," the killer decides, moving forward to press her lips against Lauren's in a much more heated kiss than the one we shared moments ago.
I reflect on the situation at hand and begin to place it all together piece by piece. Confused at first, it did not make sense, but looking at it now, I just got played by two murders. Two murders who are now standing in front of me practically making out.
"I like the sound of that," Lauren speaks as she breaks away from the kiss in order to get air I assume, but I wish I had air to breathe. All mine has been stolen from my lungs.
"Me too," the killer says confidently, looking towards me with another smirk. Man I would love to smack it off her face.
The green eyed girl looks towards me with utter hatred in her dark eyes as we make eye contact. I find myself wanting to hit her and make her bleed for what she has done, but I have already gotten enough blood on my hands. Plus, I'm sure her girlfriend would not let me get away with it either.
"I was pretty convincing wasn't I," she asks me, a devilish smirk tainting her lips as she slides over to me. "I had you wrapped around my fingers."
"Why," I asks, willing myself to at least find out the motive behind her evil plan.
"You see Hannah," she begins, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, but the only thing I can manage to feel is the chills down my spine, "everyone has needs and mine are... just a little different. Manipulation has always been one of my favorite games to play."
I whimper out into the closet, not even caring how weak it makes me look in front of the pair because I am convinced no matter what I do, I will appear weak in their eyes. My tear stained cheeks are the dead giveaway and my puffy eyes do not go in my favor either.
The sound of a gun clicking pulls me out of my thoughts as Y/N begins to talk, "It has been fun, but the cops are on their way, Lauren. We gotta make our grand exit."
"Of course," Lauren agrees, shifting her attention to me as she slowly walks across the closet to come to a stop dead in front of me. Her eyes are now dark with want and her face has remains of blood on it from Y/N's hands, making her that much more intimidating, "but first I need Hannah here to do something for me."
I feel like I should run, yell, fight back, or at least attempt to move, but I think I have given up all the fight in me today. I killed someone for no reason whatsoever other than to save the life of someone I thought I could get to know. Turns out, everything is not what it seems and I deserve whatever is about to happen to me.
She moves into my personal space, making sure to cross that line that I have set up between us. The smirk on her lips matches her girlfriend's to a tee and I would be lying if I said that did not concern me at all. These two have probably been doing this together for quite some time.
Her head settles right next to mine as her lips nearly touch my right ear, causing me to temporarily loose all sense of what is actually happening. Her hot breath hits the side of my neck and sets the skin a blaze just below my ear and I become weak under her touch.
"What do you want," I ask pleadingly, my eyes falling shut as the last thing I see is Y/N standing in the doorway watching with her signature smirk.
The next thing I feel is the cold, metal circle being placed to the back of my head, followed by the clicking sound of the object being locked into place, ready for use. Her sinister laugh echoes in my head as her last request will be the last thing I ever hear anyone say.
"I want you to scream."
• • •
// Don't ask me what this is because I'll tell you that I'm not this dark. I swear it. I just read a Camren fan fiction of this on Tumblr and I thought it was a really cool concept, so the whole idea goes to the original writer. I just put my own twist on it here and there, so I'll take credit for those parts. Sorry it's more Lauren and Hannah, but I would have rather Lauren and Y/N end up together in the end than Hannah and Lauren. Anyway I hope you enjoyed and sorry for taking so long to update. Life is shit at the moment, but that's my business. Ps, this isn't edited like everything else I write because I'm a lazy piece of shit sometimes. I hope you have a good day tho :) //