The First Kill

Originally was two seperate parts. It made more sense to combine them.

 

“Hey, watch it freak!”

There she was, again, taunting me, tripping over her expensive heels in my direction with that little smirk on her face. I pulled away.

“My God, you are so lame. Why don’t you just go sit in a corner and cry like your little emo friends?” She laughed, walking away after pointing at my friends sitting by the window.

I picked up my cup of Mocha from the counter, told the cashier “Thank you” and left in a less cheerful mood than I’d arrived. I headed for the table, knowing full well what was coming.

Bunny spoke up first after tossing his white-bleached hair out of his eyes. “What’d she say, Blair?”

“Same thing she always does.” I tossed my hair and exaggerated her stuck up expression and tone. “Watch it freak! Why don’t you go sit in a corner and cry like your little emo friends?”

The rest laughed.

I grinned. “She’ll get hers. Anyway, what are we doing today?”

“Movies?” Skull suggested, her eyes wide in desperation to fulfill her love of scary movies. “We haven’t been in a while.”

“Sounds good to me.” Crimson chipped in.

I nodded. Of the four of us, I’m the only one who uses a real name because I’m the only one it’s appropriate for. Bunny’s name is Kenneth. Crimson is really Susan. Skull is actually Jennifer. Nicknames are much more fun to go by, unless you already have a great one. As for emo, though, it’s just a name that others feel the need to bombard us with even though none of us like emo music or clothes. We just lean towards the darker side of the spectrum when it comes to tastes. The girl who’d verbally attacked me at the counter was Nikki Sanders, a stuck up priss who needed a steel-toed boot shoved up her rear end. That’s about all we ever got from people, though, is words. High School kids don’t really torment each other anymore, or at least not here.

Skull grabbed a newspaper from a rack nearby and leafed through it until she found the movie listings. “Anyone up for a matinee in an hour?”

After we’d all agreed, and finished our coffee, we crammed into Bunny’s Ford and headed towards the mall. While the others were talking, my mind was elsewhere.

She’ll get hers. What if I’m the one to give it to her? I thought, realizing how dangerous the idea was. I’d love to, though. I honestly think the world would be better off without her. I began planning the murder in my head, but stopped after a few minutes. I was with my friends, and I needed to act normal. This was like any time I’d killed a stray cat or wild dog; it needed to stay secret and hidden. I would have to act normal.

We fooled around in some stores while waiting for the movie. Crimson and I like to dress up Bunny in girls’ clothes. We got some weird looks from the people in the store when he entered the try-on room with dresses, but it was well worth it. Guys look so different in dresses, but, in Bunny’s case, still beautiful. He actually bought one of them so we could dress him up somewhere other than the store.

Of course, Skull, alongside her affinity for horror films, likes to wear baggy pants, especially the kinds with chains and straps on them. She needed our opinion on an expensive pair she’d recently discovered. It was too pricey.

“That’s okay.” She said “I can wait until they’re on clearance.”

The waiting period was coming to an end, and we wandered into the short ticket line. “I’ll buy snacks.” Crimson offered.

“K, I’ll buy tickets.” I replied, hoping the movie was going to be worth it. Don’t get me wrong, movies are more fun with friends, but I’ve seen a few that really suck, whether you’re with friends or not. Skull usually had pretty good taste, though, so I eased up. It was nice to be old enough to get into R rated movies. It was not so nice to get carded by the same woman every time we watched a movie, even though she knew we were all old enough.

During previews, I got the urge to pee. It’s one of those urges that creeps up gently and pounces at the very moment you don’t want it to. I ran to the Ladies’ room and thankfully found it deserted, apart from a mother, who grabbed her young daughter’s hand as soon as she looked up at me. I smiled reassuringly and fled into a stall. Coffee is my bladder’s personal Satan.

While refastening my belt, I heard heels stumbling into the room, and the same voice from this morning. My blood ran cold, and then very hot. I wasn’t ready yet, but I was more excited about my idea than I should have been, that’s why I made mistakes. I smirked, made sure I was decent, and sauntered to the sinks, where Nikki was powdering her face and adoring herself in the wall-width mirror. I thought of the box, but found this time a perfect opportunity. I resisted, but just barely. If she had said one word, my idea would have erupted in the restroom.

The movie was decent. It had a nice plot, pretty nicely developed characters and some interesting details. Overall, though, it was a through-and-through “slasher” film; you knew everybody was going to die, you just didn’t know how or when. One of the scenes, where the killer had lured a girl into the open with a music box added to my idea, and suddenly, I had a working plan.

Three nights later on a Tuesday, after doing all of my work, I was finally ready. My friends were distracted. I’d tracked down Nikki’s home and had acquired the bait more easily than I’d expected possible. Recording devices are very handy. I sat in wait outside her bedroom window, with the recorder in one gloved hand and a brand new knife in the other.

When her light turned on after her door slammed shut, I pressed play. “’Oh my God, you have to promise not to tell anyone.’ ‘I promise.’ ‘Okay, well, Sunday night, I cheated. He doesn’t know, but I almost feel bad about it. I mean, he’s so trusting.’”

The window opened, and her head appeared next to me. With one swift move, I slammed her it onto the sill before she could scream. It didn’t really take much for the cheap knife to cut through the flesh and arteries on the underside of her skinny neck. Red spilled everywhere. I gasped for air and then made my big mistake. I ran.

In the excitement, I’d left the recorder behind, and though I’d wiped it clean of prints, it was new and I’d wanted to keep it for future use. I reached the point I’d picked out to ditch all evidence of my involvement; a burning bin in an alley. I shed the too-big jeans and shirt, as well as the shoes I’d worn over my own. I threw in the bandana, too, after checking it for hairs and soaking it in a container of bleach I’d left at the spot earlier. My own clothes bore no sign of any involvement whatsoever. I was pleased. I bleached the gloves, too, and tossed everything, apart from the knife which I’d intentionally left still jammed into her neck and the recorder I’d accidentally left behind into the bin. A wall blocked this whole scene from any and every angle. When I emerged, I looked like any other kid walking the street in the evening.

I smiled sadly. The world was better off, but it had cost a life. If only people were better.

Reviews

[Mark D. Chevalier]

Whoa! You really have created a cold-blooded killer there. I wonder if her mistake with the recorder will come back to haunt her? So far her only motive appears to be the fun of it, or some systemic belief that she's making the world a better place. I need to keep reading though and see where you're going with this. Nicely done Penny!
Mark

[Brie]

I thought it was interesting the way you named her friends. If you didn't explain, I would have thought Bunny was a girl and Skull and Crimson were guys. Very nice!
-Brie