56II. Everything Turns Weird
(Part 2)
"Fear, like pain, looks and sounds worse than it feels."
-Rebecca West (1892-1983)
"I heard you sent Newdie to the hospital." Ashton told me, gleefully, as we exited the school gates. We were currently heading towards the nearby McDonald's branch.
I smirked, proudly. "You heard right, Ashton." I said, and resisted the urge to saunter.
"And that you were called to the Principal's office after for the 7th time." Jenny added, amused.
Well. That dampened the urge to saunter.
I groaned. "Don't remind me." I said, shutting my eyes tightly for a moment, then opened them and grinned at my friends. "Though, it was definitely worth it."
Ashton laughed, uproariously. "Damn, I wish I could've seen it." He said as we walked. "I mean, at first I didn't quite believe it, because, well, you know, you've never actually stabbed anyone before."
"Well, he pissed me off." I replied, evasively. I didn't want to tell Ashton that he was the source of the fight. "And it happened right after you guys left for 2nd period."
"AW! I wish I'd stayed!" he whined. He turned accusingly at Jenny. "It's all your fault, Jen, if you hadn't been such a perfect student, I would've stayed there." He pouted.
Jenny rolled her sky blue eyes at Ashton, choosing not to respond to that. She knew he was just playing, and that we didn't really have a problem with her being a goody-goody.
"They even thought I was homicidal just because I went slightly hysterical and told Brad that I'd kill him." I said, laughing at the stupidity.
"We all know how much of a provocative ass Newdie can be." Ashton said, laughing along with me.
Jenny glanced at me. "What caught my attention though…is the brutality of your attack. And the fact that you don't normally shout death threats to people you beat up. What made you so angry, Roxy?" she asked, staring intently at me.
Damn, I was hoping she wouldn't notice. Jenny's just too observant.
I faltered a bit in my steps, but if one of them noticed, none of them showed it.
"He was accusing me of cheating on him." I told them, nonchalantly. With Ashton, I added silently.
They didn't say anything at first, but then Jenny went, "Brad's confined in the nearby hospital form ore or less a month, in case you wanted to know." She said, then thought about it. "You know, he's your 5th ex-boyfriend that has been sent to the hospital because of you."
Well, that's just because they're the brave ones who openly insulted Ashton in my face.
I wouldn't have beaten them up so bad if I had been the one they were badmouthing.
Ashton smirked. "And her criminal records? Non-existent." He boasted.
Strangely enough, none of them sued me or anything. I think they were just afraid to admit that they were beaten up by a girl.
I laughed. "I'm that awesome." I said, obnoxiously, making them laugh out loud.
We entered McDonald's and immediately felt the cool air from the beautiful invention that is The Air Conditioner. If ever I meet the person who invented The Air Conditioner, I will thank them profusely from the bottom of my heart and kiss them on the forehead.
Summer was torturous, because I hated sweating and feeling sticky (hence, my abhorrence of sports and clubs). Air Conditioners make summer more endurable, and easier.
We sat beside a window after ordering our meals, and started talking animatedly about things unrelated to the incident earlier.
I turned to look at the mirror on the wall, and saw myself. I stared at it, intently.
Weird. Wasn't I supposed to have a swollen cut on my cheek? I touched my cheek. It didn't hurt or sting.
I frowned. How could that kind of cut disappear so fast? And why didn't I notice it earlier?
Before I could ponder further about it, the place suddenly grew silent, causing Jenny and Ashton to stop talking too.
I turned my head to look at the direction everybody else was looking at, and saw two professional-looking guys.
I sensed something strange about them, but squashed the feeling. I've been getting quite a few of those feelings about some people, so I'm just probably getting completely paranoid about nothing…
They were speaking in hushed tones (or at least the blonde one) but because of the deafening silence I could hear every word he was saying.
Lloyd Mitchell Valmont
"Let's get out of here. NOW." Lloyd Valmont whispered, quickly, to his friend, Seth Lemuel, as he looked around the place. Everyone was looking at him, and he was definitely not okay with it.
Seth ignored his friend's plea. "Oh come on, Llo—"
Lloyd kicked him noticeably in the shin. "Andrew…" he said, in a warning tone.
Seth gave Lloyd a sardonic smile. "Michael, we're going to eat here whether you like it or not." He said, matter-of-factly.
'Michael' gave 'Andrew' a disbelieving look. "You're shitting me, right?" he asked, in hopes of getting an affirmative answer.
"I shit you not—hey, wait, where are you going?" Seth reached out and grabbed Lloyd's arm just when he was about to turn and get the hell out of the place.
"To a place where there's no you." He replied, indifferently, trying to rip his arm away from the grip his friend had on him.
Seth smiled deviously and pulled Lloyd to a nearby table. "We'll sit here and—"
Lloyd pretended not to hear. "No! I don't know what you're saying!" he said, shaking his head.
"Yet I was speaking fluent English." Seth commented, dryly.
"The only thing you speak fluently is bullshit."
"Hey, that's funny, where'd you get that?"
"The internet."
Roxanne Adellaide Adams
I stared at them as they sat down in a nearby table.
They were both in suits, but they looked too young to be working in a place that required suits…
A gasp from in front of me made me turn my head to look at Jenny, who was across from me, looking shocked. "What? What's wrong?" I asked Ashton, who was sitting beside her. He just shrugged.
Jenny turned to me. "Don't you know?" she asked, excitedly. "That's Michael Lewey!"
(Cue crickets chirping in the background)
"Who?" Ashton and I echoed in confusion.
Jenny slapped her forehead. "Why do I have idiots for friends again?" she wondered out loud.
"Because you have a freak magnet implanted in your skin—" Ashton started, but Jenny cut him off by whacking him on the head with her purse.
"Michael Lewey." She said, enunciating every syllable.
I shook my head. "Sorry, Jen, but it doesn't ring a bell."
She looked expectantly at Ashton, but was disappointed when he shook his head too. "Nope."
She groaned in annoyance. "Are you two hermits? Honestly, don't you two watch TV?" she asked, incredulously.
Ashton and I glanced at each other.
"Umm, I'm not allowed to watch TV." I started, lamely. "And if ever I get to use it—you know, when I'm in Maxy's room and Dad's out—I only watch Nickelodeon." I finished, sheepishly.
Ashton stifled a snicker, which made me glare at him. "Well, I have work to do most of the time, so I really don't have time to watch TV. Besides, I wouldn't waste time ogling a guy." Ashton shrugged, nonchalantly.
I smirked, playfully at Ashton. "Huh, and here I was thinking you swung that way." I joked.
He glared at me, pretending to be severely offended.
He was to succeed his father's company, so they're already training him at the young age of 16. He's turning 17 in July.
In my opinion, they're training him early because his Dad can die anytime. No, his Dad's not sick or anything, he's actually quite healthy. It's because being the son of the bitch he is, he can get assassinated anytime since there's a lot of people out there he's humiliated, embarrassed, harassed, scammed, conned, and betrayed.
"So you guys really haven't heard of Michael Lewey anywhere?" she asked, skeptically. "Or anyone?"
I turned to Jenny and rolled my eyes, impatiently. "Look, Jen, if we've heard, we would've told you already." I practically snapped.
Jenny finally provided us with the information. "Michael Lewey is the newest star in Showbiz, he's been everywhere in TV lately," Except Nickelodeon, apparently…, I thought. "And every girl in school is going gaga on him."
I turned slightly to look at the blonde guy. "He's the blonde, right?" I asked Jenny. I heard her answer with a positive, and I smirked. "Well, I can relate." I mumbled, checking out the guy with appraising eyes.
He had on these flashy shades so I couldn't see his eyes, but looking at his other facial features, it was probably just as attractive. He had on a silver piercing at the upper part of his right ear (which I have always thought HOT. Ear piercings, I mean), he was lean and the right kind of muscular.
When I turned back to look at Jenny, she was looking at me pleadingly. My eyebrow perked up. "What?" I asked, slowly and cautiously.
Her pleading expression deepened. "Please, please, please, PLEASE can you get an autograph from him for me?" she asked, putting her hands together.
"Oh, okay…" I said, dismissively, then did a double take. "What?!" I suddenly, exclaimed, giving her a very scandalized look. A few heads turned, including the guy with the famous Michael Lewey.
"PLEASE!"
"Oh no, Roxy, that's a lot of 'please', what ever will you do?" Ashton suddenly interjected, dramatically.
I ignored him. "Why can't you do it? He's just two tables away, I mean, you do have legs." I scowled.
"I'm too shy! You know that, Roxy, I won't be able to utter a single word without saying 'um'!"
"Then make Ashton do it!" I pointed quite rudely at Ashton, even though I found it hard to imagine Ashton strutting over there and saying, 'Sup dude! Can I have your autograph?'. I mean, I just really didn't want to do it.
He held up a hand. "I'm not really good at dealing with celebrities. Sorry."
My jaw dropped. "And you think I am?! Are you fucking crazy?!" I hissed, finding it hard not to throw my McBurger at him. I already had trouble dealing with normal people; imagine me talking to a celebrity.
"Well, you don't know him, so you're not going to be nervous!" Jenny reasoned.
I think she's forgetting how exactly I treat people I don't know.
I growled. "Ashton doesn't know him too!" I pointed out, trying desperately to get out of the situation.
"I feel compelled to point out that if a teenage guy, such as myself, is to ask him for an autograph, I would come off as, well, gay. And I'm not exactly fond of the idea of a celebrity thinking I'm a homosexual. Because, Rox, if you haven't forgotten, I don't swing that way."
"So you pick what some guy thinks over your lovable, sweet, supportive bestfriend?" I asked him, pretending to be severely offended.
He sniffed. "I don't have such a thing."
"Hey!" Jenny exclaimed.
"Just joking, Jen." Ashton looked over at her, grinning sweetly.
"Rawr, I hate you." I spat, half-heartedly. He just grinned at me goofily.
"So will you do it?" Jenny asked me, hopefully.
I sighed, dejectedly, as I got up. She squealed, happily. "Oh my God! Thank you, Roxy! I love you ten times more than I love our trash can!" she squirmed, excitedly, in her seat.
…well, ain't that sweet.
I gave her a sarcastic smile, and walked over to the two guys every girl has been looking at. A girl employee passed by me, smiling and blushing furiously. Seems like she got an autograph.
I stopped in front of their table, a napkin in hand.
The blonde guy, or Michael Lewey, looked at me through his Ray Ban. He took them off, suavely, and revealed the most captivating eyes I've ever seen. Fine, I sound like a heroine from some cheap cheesy romance novel, but I'm telling the truth. They were a stormy gray color, and they were every bit as attractive as I thought they would be—perhaps even more.
Gosh. No wonder girls fawn over the guy. He was obviously some kind of Greek God.
Instead of flashing me a superstar smile, I was quite surprised (and maybe a little confused) to receive a scowl. And call me crazy, but I think he recognizes me.
"We're going to order first, come back later." He said, making a shooing gesture with his hand.
Son of a—
"Now, now, Michael, be nice," his brown-haired companion across him said, sincerely, and turned to me.
I hated Michael Lewey already.
Why are all the gorgeous ones in possession of a rotten personality?
"My name's Andrew Wallace, and you are…?" he asked, but I didn't reply immediately because I was, in the moment, busy staring at his odd but enchanting eyes. One was golden yellow, and the other was blue-green.
"Roxy." I responded, curtly, not giving my last name on purpose.
Andrew nodded, not bothering to ask. "An autograph from Mr. Lewey, I suppose?" he asked, politely.
I nodded. "For my friend." I said, pointing behind me with my thumb.
"That's what they all say." Michael drawled, lazily, as he took the napkin I place on the table, and started writing on it. "What's your friend's name?"
"Jenny." I answered, through gritted teeth.
"Right…" he said, stretching the word, as he continued to write on the napkin.
My hand formed a fist, and my eyes narrowed into slits. I seriously wanted to castrate the guy, but Jenny idolized the guy, so I need to keep my temper in check…But the guy is really getting on my nerves.
"There." I heard him say, and he handed me the napkin as he leaned back, pompously. I snatched it away, quickly.
"Thank you." I said, stiffly, and quickly turned around to get the hell out of there.
But my wish to get away was crushed when Michael decided to open his ego-filled trap again. "Is that it?" he asked, arrogantly.
I turned slowly to look at him. "What?" I asked, sharply.
"Normally, a girl asks for a kiss, or something." He shrugged, as he smirked at me.
I snapped for the second time that day.
"Look, you superficial dick of a celebrity—I can't even begin to fathom why you would think I like your ostentatious self, but would you please desist from being such an arrogant asshole in my presence?! Because I just might turn homicidal and shove your bloated head into a wall." I harangued at him. I gave him one last ice cold glare and sauntered back to my table.
Too bad, I didn't see his reaction clearly.
Everyone has turned deathly silent, during my tongue-lashing—but then Andrew's laugh filled the whole place and people started hurriedly whispering to each other.
"What a bitch…", "No respect…", "…talking like that to Michael Lewey…", "How could she?!", "Brabaric…", "She's the arrogant one…"…
I heard them clearly, but I didn't care, I just kept on sauntering.
I sat down on my seat, smirking. "Here you go, my lovely friend." I said, and placed the napkin in front of a gawking Jenny Goldberg.
I could still hear Andrew laughing hysterically, making me crack a smile.
There's nothing more fulfilling than publicly humiliating a rising star.
"Did you just totally mouth off Michael Lewey the famous star or did my eyes deceive me?" Ashton asked me, as his hazel brown eyes sparkled.
"I did, Ash. I did." I answered, nodding my head, solemnly.
He burst out laughing, came to my side and hugged me. "God, Rox, you keep doing fun things today! I'm glad I saw this one!"
We heard a very loud impact, making the whole place silent again—except for Andrew's hysterical laughing. We all turned to look at the attention-drawing duo, and saw Michael stand up (his Ray Ban was back on) and march out with Andrew following behind, still laughing.
It made me grin, non-stop.
Ashton laughed again and we started talking animatedly about what just happened while the people around us sent us hateful glares for driving away the famous little jerk.
Lloyd Mitchell Valmont
Lloyd was very angry.
Wait, no, scratch 'very angry'. Lloyd was furious, embarrassed, and in dire need of alcohol.
He stomped towards his car, with Seth following behind with no effort at all to hurry. He was still laughing at him. At him.
Lloyd has never been so humiliated in his life.
"I like her! She's funny!" Seth gasped out, between laughing fits. "And she embarrassed you!"
Lloyd growled, but continued to ignore Seth. He pushed a button on his power keys to unlock his car. He glanced at his dented bumper, and mentally cursed the Roxy girl again. That girl has made problems for him twice in a day already.
And he honestly didn't want to see her again even if she was unbearably attractive for some reason.
He got into the car and made no move to tell Seth to get in. He wouldn't mind leaving Seth in the parking lot, considering the fact that it was all the guy's fault for taking him to the place and that he was currently laughing at Lloyd.
To his disappointment, Seth managed to get in, still laughing his demonic ass off. Lloyd sneered, scornfully, at him. "Seth," he started. "Why in the world did you have to drag me all the way here when it's an hour away from where we came from?"
Seth glanced at Lloyd, smiling, and tapped his blue-green eye. "We had a date with destiny." He answered simply, then winked.
Lloyd was confused, but didn't question it. Seth has always been weird, but wise…sometimes.
Lloyd glanced at the glass windows of the fast food restaurant, and spotted the girl immediately. Her eyes were alight as she talked to her human friends, completely different from the way she talked to him.
When he had been near her, he managed to find out what she was exactly.
A temptress, that's what she is, he thought firmly.
He could tell by the saunter.
Vampires are immune to the Temptresses' seductive aura, so he couldn't fathom why he was so attracted to the troublesome girl.
He glanced at her laughing face one last time before backing out of the parking lot.
Destiny, huh…
"Um," Seth suddenly disturbed the silence.
"What?"
"You just called me 'Seth'."
"So?"
"I thought we weren't allowed to call each other our real names."
A moment of silence.
"You know, I'm not in the mood to talk to you right now, so shut up."
Roxanne Adellaide Adams
"I'm here!" I called out, loudly, without thinking after I entered the house. I dropped my body bag by the side and abruptly stopped moving.
Everything was quiet. Too quiet.
Deathly silent.
I looked around, cautiously, and whipped out my pocket knife from my shoe.
Yes. Knife.
I bring one, just in case. I didn't use it on Brad because having a knife and being caught with it is definitely not good.
"Oh wait! I forgot something in the car!" I called out, and opened the front door, then closed it again. Just to make it seem like I went out again.
Then I realized my mistake.
I didn't have a car, and if they (because I assume there is a 'they' up there) were near a window they'd look outside to see if I really did go out.
I mentally berated myself, but decided I should get ready. My eyes narrowed, and I didn't move or breathe, trying to listen for something.
I heard hurried footsteps upstairs. My heart raced along with my mind. And for the 2nd time that day, I was scared. Again, for my life.
Muffled voices from upstairs reached my sensitive ears, and my eyes grew wide.
…Burglars…?
Calm down, I told myself. Call the police or whoever, just get out of here…
My legs couldn't move.
Just get the fuck out of here…
Suddenly, a peculiar sound alerted my ears. Then I heard it again. It was strangely familiar…
Where have I heard that sound before?
My hand was getting sweaty on the leather handle of my pocket knife, and my lips were dry—and probably pale. At the moment, all I could hear things from was upstairs.
Realization suddenly hit me. It was so sudden, that I almost reeled back.
Oh fuck.
Guns with silencers.
Two shots are equal to 2 people. My eyes widened. Was one of those two, Maxy? I sincerely hoped not. I wiped my hands on my school skirt, since they were getting clammy and cold, and licked my dry, equally cold lips.
It's like the blood has drained away from my body without me noticing.
That does it. I had to get up there. They were killing people up there, and I needed to know if one of those was Maxy.
I suddenly felt my vision become clearer—I could see the exact time on the clock across the hall—and my hearing became more sensitive. I could now hear what they were saying, even if they were upstairs.
Which—I just realized—is actually quite weird.
I couldn't ponder on that thought for long, because they've started talking.
"Atkin," a slightly hushed voice started. It was male. "Do you know if the girl's in the house?" it was cold and indifferent.
"I can't. My nose is being dulled by the smell of blood. But I don't hear anything from downstairs." Another voice answered. This time it was raspy and creepy.
My stomach turned. So someone's really dead up there.
"Dammit, if only there were windows…" the first voice cursed.
No windows? How can that be?
Atkin's vice tentatively went, "Are you sure this is someone we should kill?" then his voice turned husky. "I mean, it's such a waste."
I stalked quietly towards the stairs, then I heard whimpering…a woman.
My eyes grew wide in recognition. Maxy! They had Maxy up there!
My grip tightened on my pocket knife, as I used every sane nerve in my mind to stop myself from just running in there without caution. Then I heard something very…weird.
"Don't tell me you want her as a pet." The first voice told Atkin.
I stopped ascending.
As a WHAT?
"Why not?" Atkin snickered, deviously.
"She's a sweeper." The first voice said, as if it was obvious. What the—a sweeper? What's that?
"Yes, and that'll mean she'll be quite the fighter. And you know I like It rough. I'll have fun breaking her spirit." Atkin cackled.
"Your choice then." The first voice said, tonelessly, then asked, "Though, don't you have Sapphire? That human girl."
Atkin cackled once again. "She was annoying, so I killed her."
I couldn't move for a moment.
These aren't burglars…these are psychotic mental patients on loose who kill innocent people for cheap thrills!
The other guy didn't reply for a moment. "I still say we kill her. She's unnecessary."
Atkin chuckled, huskily. "Now, now. I'm supposed to be the brutal one here. How can we kill such a beauty? Fine, I won't take her. How about we give her as a present to that guy, you know, Zephyr Beaumont's son. I heard his 23rd birthday was coming up." He offered.
I was getting pissed. They were talking about Maxy as if she was a…thing! And they were even considering giving her as a birthday present!
The knife on my hand was practically about to burst because of my tight grip on it. Even my hand was visibly shaking.
"You mean Nathan?" the guy spat the name out in distaste. The first sign of emotion in his voice. you didn't need to be a scientist to know that the guy probably wasn't exactly chummy with the person they were talking about. "We don't need to give anything to him. He has that girl…Yvette, right?"
Atkin chuckled again. "The tall, blonde, sex-machine? Yeah, but she's gone. Threw herself in front of him just when someone tried to shoot him. Well, you can imagine what happened. The guy just left her there though. Cruel son of a bitch." He was saying that, but he was laughing, as if the incident amused him to no end.
"Then we're doing this girl a favor by killing her in one fast motion, because I really think she'd rather die than be given to a vampire." The guy said, back to his original tone of voice.
What the fuck? Vampire? What are they going on about?
By this time, I was already outside the room they're in—which was Dad's study a.k.a. the room I've never seen or step foot on in my life—and, to my luck, the door was slightly open, giving me the freedom to eavesdrop and to peek.
The first thing I saw was Maxy whimpering and cowering at the far corner of the room, where she stared wide-eyed at the two tall men in front of her.
To the looks of it, they were in no hurry to leave. Atkin was probably the bald one, standing 6 foor three tall, smirking like everything's according to plan.
The other guy, whose name I still do not know, had his back turned to me…
Somehow, it was a very familiar back, but I couldn't put my finger on it…where have I seen that back before?
Then, the next thing I noticed was that the room didn't have any windows, probably why they couldn't check if I really did go out or not. Then my gaze travelled down and landed on a very familiar body lying on the floor, dead, on her own pool of blood.
"Atkin," the unknown guy suddenly started. "Somehow, the lady downstairs is taking too long. Has she come back yet?"
Atkin smirked; his blood shot eyes crinkling up. "I don't know…but what I do know is…there's a demon right outside the door." And with that said, he suddenly turned and stared right into my shocked emerald eyes.
What the—how did he—
I started backing away, but before I knew it, Atkin was in front of me, staring at me with his creepy bloodshot eyes. "Well, what do we have here?" he jeered, grinning sweetly. "A little kitty cat sneaking around!"
Ugh. His voice made me get Goosebumps.
I took a fighting stance and readied my knife. Atkin's attention focused on my knife, and then his eyes gleamed. "Ooh, little kitty cat, you shouldn't swing such a sharp knife around…or you just might…" he trailed off, then suddenly lunged at me—so fast that I almost didn't get to dodge. Almost. He cut my cheek slightly. He smiled, sadistically, when he saw the blood run down my cheek. "…cut yourself."
It was a long yellow fingernail that he used to cut me.
I scowled, disgustedly, at him. "How dare you touch me…" I snarled.
He giggled, gleefully. "Ohoho! Is the little kitty cat angry?" he taunted, licking off the blood from his nail. My blood.
UGHH!
My lip curled up in disgust. "You're such a sadistic son of a bitch." I snarled and swiftly attacked him. He quickly shielded himself from my knife with that disgusting fingernail of his.
"Oh, you're feisty, Demon… I like you." He said, grinning, showing me two sets of sharp looking fangs.
"Yeah, and I hate you, you disgusting bastard." I spat at him, and spit on his face—directly in his eye, making him shout in pain—then I immediately slit his throat.
This is the first time I have ever killed anyone…but I felt nothing. No guilt, no anything.
Blood splattered everywhere, since I successfully tore his jugular. The blood stained my face, my clothes, my hands…
Everything…
Then I felt something stir in me.
I didn't know what I was doing now, and I'm telling you, I had no control in the upcoming events.
A/N:
YES! Finally! I've finished this! WOohoo! Well, the second chapter anyway…
Sorry for being a bit late, I had a little trouble enrolling for the next school year. I'm on probation! I signed this form saying that 'I would willingly withdraw my enrollment if my general average is lower than 80...blah blah blah…'.
And I'm telling you! If ever I withdraw—it would definitely not be willingly!
AGHH.
Anyway, hope your satisfied with the part 2, hehe.
Please review and if there are mistakes, can you point them out to me? Pretty please?
Thanks! (cheers)
-Jessi