Chereads / Dollar Store Horror: Slasher Movie / Chapter 10 - Act 1: Part 9

Chapter 10 - Act 1: Part 9

Anna is the first one in the classroom. She smiles at me as I enter. Anna is holding what appears to be a baby goat. Huey leans close to my ear and silently says, "Is it just me or is Anna holding a baby goat?"

"No, she's definitely holding one." Huey and I both look at each other with our eyes squinted, and nod our heads slowly.

"His name is Sergeant Truffles~!" Anna proudly claims.

"So, I assume this is going to have some significance for some reason?" Huey asks once he finished nodding his head.

"Well, you see, my mom is a vet. And she has a lot of animals." Anna Strokes the goat gently; it ba's softly, clearly calm.

"Yeah. Okay." I spoke as if I understood what was happening, but the truth was I didn't.

"And one day, when I was five years old, there was a lot of commotion at my house. I looked outside and my dad was yelling at my mom. I didn't see what happened, but my mom ended up on the floor. So, I ran over to her. But I didn't know what to do! And so, my dad said, 'Go back to your room.' And so, I did. But I couldn't sleep. I just had this idea in my head that I wanted to help. So, I figured, the first thing I would do if I could help my mom was to take care of the animals at my house." She continues stroking the goat.

"Heh?" I still don't get it.

"What?" It seems Huey and I are on the same page, at least mentally and not spiritually, because Huey is a ginger. I can make that joke because I am his best friend, and even then the worst I'd get is a slightly disappointed look from him.

"This goat is the most precious thing in the world to me." Anna confides. Is it though?

"I named him after my favorite thing ever: chocolate. And what makes him even more special is that he's a chubby choc!" I thought her favorite thing was Jesus? Or, wait, wouldn't Jesus be a person not an object? I don't care enough to think this through.

"Chubby choc?" Huey asks. Anna hands the baby goat to Huey, who cradles him carefully.

"No. What I meant was chocolate." Anna replies. She seems proud of her knowledge of chubby chocs.

"Oh~!" Anna says. "I like the sound of chocolate. It's so nice, so relaxing." I have to admit I do too. I imagine that chocolate to be dark and delicious, just like the color of Anna's eyes.

"Anyway," she continues, "When I was older, I became an animal-lover. It was around then that I realized I loved animals more than anything in the world. I was just so in love with them." Anna looks up and smiles, as if she was happy remembering.

"Aww! You love animals, so pretty. How cute," I responded. She blushes, but continues. "So, I started volunteering at the veterinary hospital, where my mom works, in the summer. I just love animals, so it was a natural choice for me." Huey looks so soft holding Sergeant Truffles, almost like a Father looking at his newborn. And then suddenly, something hits me.

"Ow! Something hit me...!" I exclaim. it felt like a rock or something even remotely hard, but I am not 100% sure. I rub my head to ease the pain, but the good news is I am not bleeding, so yay - slow jazz hands. I look up to see Anna and Huey distraught, their faces stunned into silence.

"What is it?" I ask curiously. Anna slowly lifts her hand and extends her right index finger to point behind me; I turn around to see Bubba standing in the doorway, clearly pissed off. His face was hollow with expression, yet his body language was beaming with anger. He naturally towered over everyone else. His arms were crossed, his jaw was clenched, his eyes were like laser beams, and his hands were on his hips, which was a sign that we had been noticed. Anna's finger was raised and pointed up, as if for him to come up to me.

"What's going on?" Bubba says, his voice dripping with rage. "You better be good to that goat, lady."

"What?! I can explain!" I stutter.

"Is that another word for 'I don't give a fuck?!'?" He answers angrily. His voice was barely above a whisper. Besides that, why the hell is upset with me when he threw, most likely, a rock at my head. He wasn't even here for the introduction of the goat. In fact, he came in like a bull with shit in his pants. He turns his body towards me and then towards Anna and Huey. His face is stern, and his eyes filled with rage. His stance, arms, and legs are perfectly square. It's as if he's still recovering from his humiliation this morning, and doesn't want to let us off easy. Clearly he wants - Needs one of us to give him a reason to assault us; either verbally or physically.

Huey looks like he's in a life or death situation, thinking back and forth to best play out the best scenario. His mouth quivers, wanting to speak but not having the strength to do so - His eyes darting to and fro. Huey's face is pale, not because he is scared, but because all reason has left the room once Bubba arrived, thus leaving everyone a potential victim.

Bubba takes notice and singles Huey out, "What is it, Carrot-Boy?" He remarks.

"Well, uh..." Huey pauses, stalling for time. "You see, I, uh, it's, I'm, um, it's that you, uh, took a cinder block to the head and you're fine, uh, yeah."

"I'm going to kill that son of bitch, then fuck that girl, and force him to watch as he lays dying." Bubba said softly, but with conviction. "I WILL make him suffer." You are such a fucking villain stereotype, Jesus fucking Christ! "Where is that little shit-stain anyway?" Bubba asks.

"He hasn't been here since, well, you know..." Huey swallows his own spit loudly.

"You're right, I do." Bubba smirks subtly. Time feels slow, like it's never ending - A form of torture without words or physical touch. Pure agony fills the room, as if it were a time bomb. Every second could lead to worse, and yet, we sit in silence. Waiting. When will class end? When will this hell end? That we cannot know; the only thing now is survival, but the question remains - Who's going to make it to the next chapter - Because this isn't just the tension from Bubba the Bastard, but the fear that someone will die in our next chapter. Someone is going to die soon, probably very soon; and none of us want to be the first victim, no one wants to die.

But someone will.