Page 21 of Trick or Treat
Still perplexed by the shirt, but enjoying how the fabric feels against my bare body as it sways against it, I throw the blanket off of myself, still trembling and sore from the bizarre, terrifying events that just happened earlier. I approach the window and take the box that has been precisely positioned in the middle of the ledge as my heart beats a mile a minute and my stomach is in knots. A note is taped to the top of it, sealed with a bloody lip print.
What the fuck is going on? Is this some kind of joke?
I bring the package and the note back to my bed, where I sit down, a wave of fear and confusion washing over me. I open the envelope and take out a pearl white slip of paper with blood red writing. As I start to read it, my breath becomes shallow as I brace myself for what lies ahead.
You virgins are dirty girls, aren't you?
My shoulders relax as I release the breath I’ve been holding in embarrassment and crumple the piece of paper. It wasn't that bad. I recall Silver telling me that. But what’s inside the box?
Once more holding my breath, I untie the ribbon, letting the satin fall to my blanket, releasing the lid of the mysterious box. I lean over and peer inside, letting out a piercing scream. I flip the box in a panic and jump back, sending the contents flying across my room.
What the fuck! Were those…fingers?!
I scramble to my feet and look around, noticing two fingers and another note on the floor. My heart is racing as I slowly stoop down and grab the bloody note, trying not to look at the severed fingers next to it that match the one that was left for me under my pillow.
This is fucked up. What is goingon?
When I open it, I can see that the paper is smeared with blood and that they kissed it. I shiver and start reading, hoping not to faint from the shock.
In case you wanted to make yourself come again since they did so well the first time...
I drop the paper and fall to the floor, my eyes wide in absolute fear and disgust. Did they really use severed fingers to make me come?
eight
Tasting Blood
Six months later, May
Scarlett
Aside from the breathtaking views in the fall, The Patriots, and wicked funny accents, Massachusetts is also known for its humidity. And this summer is already off to a rousing start.
When I go to the beach, I usually unwind by lying in the sun. While sweltering in the scorching heat, I’ve been tossing and turning for the past hour. Nantasket is one of my favorite beaches, and I’ve always come here to relax and get away from it all. I don’t know if it’s because River and I broke up, but I think that’s the reason this trip feels different. The stress of what happened to Shawn became too much for us to bear, and it got in our way. We promised to remain friends, and we have. But dating isn't an option anymore.
I turn around to face the sun and notice a group of guys peering over the seawall. Something about them draws my attention, sucking me in so that I can’t look away even if I wanted to. They all smile at me, their lashes flashing in flirtatious winks that make the heat between my thighs swelter hotter than the humidity. Flashbacks of that night in the cemetery hit me out of nowhere, and random tidbits of recent, horrifying encounters begin to invade my mind, frightening me to my core.
"What are you zoned out about now?" Melanie tugs at my bikini string, trying to pull my attention back to her, and it works.
Unwillingly, I tear my focus off of the fully tattooed works of art and roll my eyes at her, slightly annoyed at her for disrupting my naughty fantasy.
"Huh?" is all I can manage to utter.
"What are you daydreaming about now? I swear, ever since you and River broke up, you've been lost in your own little world."
"Nothing, Mel. Just thinking," I lie, but I don't feel like going into depth with her about the truth right now.
She wouldn't understand how I feel like I've seen those guys before. I look over my shoulder, hoping to catch another glimpse of them, but they're gone.
"Are you nervous about the new job?" She smiles, reminding me about the position at the prison I start on Monday; that couldn't be further from my mind.
"Actually, no. I'm not nervous at all. I'm excited, and I'm ready. You know that," I reply with confidence, more than ready to start working, putting the degree I worked my ass off for to good use.
"I think you're the only person I know who doesn't get first-day jitters, Scarlett. I wish I was you, girl," she laughs, and all I can do is smile and think to myself,No, you don't.
The fiends have already gathered outside when we return to our tiny, run-down apartment in Salem, which is located on the top floor of what is now a well-known dope house, drawing unwanted attention to our formerly quiet street. Melanie and I pass by a slew of characters as we climb the narrow stairwell, clutching our purses close to our chests to avoid being snatched like before. I can hear her muttering under her breath the entire walk, but I keep quiet, ignoring the dark, dangerous eyes that follow us.
"Ugh, I hate living here now." She throws her stuff on the couch as I lock the door.