Earlier that day, around noon, Oswald and Julia sat on the swings again, lost in conversation.
"What do you think ever happened to that girl?" Julia asked, glancing at Oswald.
"Who knows," he sighed.
"What's the matter?"
"Didn't you feel anything... off about her?"
Julia shrugged. "Not really. Why?"
Oswald couldn't understand how she didn't sense it. An inexplicable fear had come over him the moment he first saw her.
Maybe it was just him, he thought. Why am I troubling myself over such a girl? Julia seems fine, so there's nothing wrong.
"Nothing," he said. "It's nothing."
Julia's eyes lit up. "Do you like her?" she teased, astonished. "If you like her, you can just—"
"No! No! It's nothing like that!"
"Oh! You don't have to shout about it," she said with a smirk.
"I don't like her."
"Is there someone you do like?" she asked playfully.
Oswald's heart began to pound. If only you knew, Julia, he thought. It's you.
"No, not really," he replied, attempting to sound casual. "Do you?"
She looked off into the distance. "I suppose I do," she said with a little giggle.
"Who is it?"
She put a finger to her lips. "It's a secret."
Oswald sighed, then pushed himself higher on the swing. Julia followed his lead.
---
"I hate this town. I hate the people in this town. It's so backward and conservative! There's no room for any freedom!"
These were the sentiments of Pamela Reed, a free spirit in the wrong place.
Pamela's adventurous, carefree nature and liberal mindset clashed sharply with the small-town values of Deerwood. She was comfortable with herself and her choices, even when it came to relationships. Her open attitude toward dating and sexuality had earned her the scorn of the townsfolk.
"She slept with another man last night."
"I heard it was a threesome this time."
"Has she no shame?"
"So young, only nineteen."
"What if she gets pregnant?"
"She'd probably just abort it."
These were the whispers that followed her wherever she went, the judgmental jabs echoing through her daily routine.
One day, as she overheard similar mutterings at the store, Pamela finally snapped. "Paisley Jensen disappeared! Don't you people have bigger things to think about?" She stormed out of the store and wandered into the woods, muttering curses under her breath, wishing all the townspeople would just die.
A sudden, fierce gust of wind whipped past her, sending her long hair swirling.
As she covered her face, she sensed an eerie presence in front of her. When the wind finally died down, she lifted her head—and there, standing before her, was a massive Gothic castle, completely out of place in the heart of the forest.
"What the hell?" she murmured. "Has this always been here?"
And then, with a groaning creak, the castle's doors swung open.
---
It was just after midnight, and Ava Reed, Pamela's mother, was unable to sleep. Her daughter hadn't returned home, and worry gnawed at her.
When the clock struck one, she grabbed a flashlight, threw on some clothes, and headed out into the night to search for her.
Her first thought was to check the nearby woods.
The chill of the early morning air made her shiver—not only from the cold but from fear and dread. As she stepped into the woods, Ava found herself breathing heavily, as if the air itself had grown thin.
Then, her foot struck something solid.
She stepped back and shone her flashlight down. There, sprawled before her, was Pamela's lifeless body, with two dark puncture marks on her neck.
Ava collapsed in shock.
---
*Thursday, January 23rd*
Over breakfast, Michael broke the news to his family.
"Pamela Reed was found dead last night."
The clatter of utensils ceased.
"This place isn't safe anymore," said Susan. "This town is too small to have a murderer running loose."
"I agree. If there's another death, we might have to leave."
---
Marcus settled into his classroom seat, watching the clock tick down the minutes until the homeroom teacher arrived.
"Dude," he whispered to Lucas, "there was a murder last night."
"Yeah, I heard—the local slut, Pamela Reed."
"Jeez… Who do you think did it?"
"I think it was one of the guys she was seeing. But if that's the case, it might not be anyone from town—she was with people from outside Deerwood."
"And you think it was one of her lovers? Out of jealousy?"
"Something like that. At least, that's what my brother thinks."
"Oh, I see."
---
Opening his locker, Ulric Adams looked at the photo he'd taped to the inside. Paisley Jensen, his girlfriend.
"Still thinking about her, huh?" came a voice from beside him.
He turned to see Talia Dean. She was beautiful, with long red hair tied into pigtails that cascaded down her shoulders, and a gentle smile.
"Yeah," Ulric murmured. "I can't stop thinking about her. But I'm trying to move on."
"I understand," Talia said, nodding. "You know, I don't think she ever liked me much."
"Why do you say that?" he asked, closing his locker.
"Well, you and I have been friends since middle school, and you and Paisley met freshman year. I think she was jealous of how close we were."
"Oh. She never mentioned it."
"That's good, but… she used to glare at me sometimes."
Ulric thought back to that night in the woods, the eerie moment when he'd thought he heard Paisley's voice. His face went pale.
"You… okay?" Talia asked, noticing his expression.
"Y-yeah. Just didn't get much sleep last night."
It was all an illusion, he told himself. I'm just grieving, so I thought I heard her voice. But… it felt so real.
The bell interrupted his thoughts.
"Damnit, we're late," he said, heading for homeroom. Talia followed close behind.
---
Tony woke up around noon, his body aching, scratched, and bloody. He dragged himself out of bed, staring down at his stained sheets in horror. As he examined his body, panic set in.
That woman… what kind of woman is she? Is this something darker, or just some twisted game? He thought to himself.
He couldn't remember anything remotely "kinky," though; his memory cut off at a certain point, as if he'd been knocked out.
"Her… her pussy couldn't have been that good to know me out," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "But I have bigger issues to worry about."
After wrapping bandages around his chest and torso, he stripped the bloody sheets, threw them in the washer along with his clothes, and changed into pajamas. Then he shuffled to the kitchen to make himself a cup of hot cocoa, dropping a few marshmallows into the mug.
When he picked up his phone from the bed, the first notification was another local news alert: "Pamela Reed, 19, found dead in Deerwood Woods."
"No, no, no!" Tony cried. "Not again! What's happening to this town?!"
First Paisley Jensen's disappearance. Then the middle school teacher's death. Now Pamela Reed.
"Pamela was too young to die", he said clenching his phone in his fists. "I want whoever did this to have their head on a damn platter!"