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In the year 1973, the state of Michigan, and the town Grayling, several female teenage girls were found dead inside the Hartwick Pines State Park. All 5 females were unidentifiable when the bodies were retrieved by the AuSable river. A teenage male, who was identifiable, went by the name Cyrus Alheimers. He had a relationship with a girl named Ava Ruskin before Cyrus's untimely death. Ava Ruskin went missing before Cyrus, so the Police Department of Grayling investigated the Ruskin residence. Here is Ava's last diary entry before she went missing:   "Dear Diary, if you are reading this, I am most likely dead. My friend Emily thinks I over think things too much, but I always believe it's good to be an overthinker. Might save my life. Not this time probably. Emily convinced me to go searching the Hartwick Pines the night of September 3rd, 1973, for a serial killer. If I don't come back and somebody's reading this, please give my book collection to somebody who will take care of it and tell my mom, I love her a lot and I can't be here for my soon-to-come baby brother. Hopefully our bodies will get found if we do die. If we don't, then I owe Emily a soda. There's one in the fridge. I only pray for our safety... This is Ava Ruskin... maybe coming back."   I was walking around downtown with my friend Emily after we got back from a school activity. We were setting up for the school's band recital to happen sometime this September. I hadn't volunteered, but Emily insisted I help her, so I was involuntarily pulled along. It was getting late, sun setting behind the long buildings as they cast shadows on the sidewalk we trudged. Streetlamps started to flicker on as Emily flounced in front of me, her long, curly, sandy blonde hair flowing in the air behind her like some kind of overly animated cartoon character. Her hot pink cardigan clung to her and her miniature purse bounced off her side. I had my hands shoved in the pockets of my pants; chin firmly planted in a big, dark purple turtleneck sweater. Dark curls hung in my face like curtains as the fading sun reflected off the stray strands, making my eyes linger on the way the light colored my tanned cheeks in the store windows we passed.   Emily abruptly came to a halt, stopping with her arms held close to her sides and lipstick-covered lips shaped in an 'O'. She extended her hand out and with a spindly, well-polished nail on her pale finger, pointing out what was displayed in the storefront before us. "Look, Ava!" She cried joyously, her lips curving into a familiar smile, "It's the phone that's been all over the news lately!" She ran up to the glass, pressing her face to the window like a child looking down upon a case of candy. I refrained from doing my iconic eye roll. I hadn't understood the obsession with this new invention everyone persisted in calling a 'phone'. Emily insisted that if her father had bought her one, she would be the most popular girl in class. "I'll be able to talk to my endless number of friends in a jiff!" She had concluded without second thought the first time the subject was brought up. She was absolutely enthralled about the idea and having it just out of reach made her mope; like now.   Emily's cheerful smile soon turned into a grimace of displeasure. The phone really was out of her reach, physically. I knew she was aware the object was obtainable in the sense her family possessed many wonderful toys. Despite being spoiled rotten, she didn't act like your typical run-of-the-mill "spoiled brat". Emily was a polite girl, infused with the knowledge that a good girl was well-mannered and talked like she belonged in a palace in a faraway land that wasn't stationed in good ol' Michigan, Grayling.   These phones weren't portable anyways, they were stationed on the wall.   Emily spoke with a somber tone. "Daddy said he'd buy me one, but he has yet too. I'm afraid it's all the taxes he has been doing lately. Has him too busy to have any time for anything else. Mum is busy too. Housework in my residence sure does seem to be a heavy workload." Emily talked like she was an English major. Her personal tutors taught her well. I gave her a weak smile, not showing my disinterest, but also not showing any intrigue. Emily stepped away from the phone in the display with a heavy heart and continued, "How will I be able to talk to all my friends all the time?" she asked.   I shrugged, "Do it how ya've been doin' it." I said, eyes focused on what was behind her rather than her face. "Send 'em letters." My tone was indifferent, clearly I didn't mind the prospect of writing, and I knew Emily was quite aware of that fact.   She and I were childhood friends and even when I started to drift away from her in the 6th grade, she pulled me back around to her and clung to me like a koala on a branch. It wasn't that I didn't like her, it was just I found separate interests that didn't align with hers. The main one: being social. Emily believed that opposites attract and has always believed that. (Thanks to her parents.) We were just five when we met each other. My mother was good friends with her father and so my mother started making playdates for us. Emily showed me all her wonderous toys. Barbies, doll houses, miniature horses. I was astonished, despite not even knowing that word when I was younger. Nowadays, I find myself secretly smiling at some of the things she does. While she is unique, she is tolerable and keeps me company no matter how much of a recluse I am.   Perhaps that's why we are still friends.   I reached for Emily's hand, letting the warmth of my hand take in hers as I said, "Maybe another day. Don't let a silly device ruin yer mood." My voice was soft as it usually was. Her smile came back, and she squeezed my hand. She seemed better again.   Emily started again in a burst of newfound energy. She dragged me along with her, causing me to be thrown off balance and almost trip. Emily laughed, the sound bell-like and light. I gave her a wonky smile as I regained my footing, straightening out my sweater with my free hand and gesturing for us to continue. Emily carried on normally, allowing her usual quick and hyper pace to slow to my casual movements.   The sun was now gone behind the tall buildings, stars starting to dot the sky above. The beautiful hues of pink and orange had now gone to purple and navy blue. It was getting dark, and home wasn't too far away, so we had the chance to enjoy the cool autumn breeze before getting back to the warmth of our snug little homes.   Downtown soon disappeared behind us as we strolled down a more worn sidewalk, cracks more prominent and noticeable as taller trees came into view. Finally, out of the city, I let go of Emily's hand once she had stopped. She lived down the cleaner part of this avenue. She waved goodbye to me as she skipped away, "Good night, Ava!" She called out from behind her. I nodded, offering her one last smile before heading in the opposite direction. Down the left of where the street forked, the road became dirtier and narrower. Moss grew close to the edges of the sidewalk and the full trees hung over the road like streetlamps without a light. The moonlight shone down upon me, illuminating my path wherever it could without the intrusion of the sugar maples and the oaks.   My home came into view after my eyes had looked up from the sidewalk. I enjoyed counting the cracks that passed under my feet after I was done admiring the usual natural scenery. I walked up the dirt path, knocking twice on the wood door with care.   Shuffling was heard from within and a voice called out, "Comin'!" The door flung open almost immediately afterwards and, in the doorway, stood my mother. She looked like she had just come out of the shower, dark hair wrapped up in a messy bun on top of her head. She wore a cozy pink robe and yellow slippers. Everything seemed loose, but she didn't seem to care. She smiled gently at me and said, "Do come in, Ava. It's late and ya missed supper." She put her hand on my back and ushered me inside, letting the door close behind me as I entered. Scooter, my chocolate Labrador, came rushing at me, jumping up to put his front paws on my chest. He barked up at me, seemingly smiling at me as drool leaked from the side of his lip. His matted brown fur seemed to stand up in excitement upon seeing me. He jumped down, long tail hitting my legs as I hurried along into the kitchen.   "How was school today?" Mother asked, calming down the dog before sitting on the couch in the living room.   "It was fine." I replied, opening the fridge. I found the empanada she had left for me. I then found a plate in one of the cabinets and opened the tupperware that incased my food. Mother hummed, watching as the dog jumped up into her lap and sat down.   "Emily has been calmer lately." Mother inferred, taping a finger to her chin in thought as she attempted to recall a conversation she most likely had with Emily's mother earlier.   "Her Father hasn't got 'er a phone yet. Got 'er moping." I answered, hearing mother let out another hum, this time in interest. "Sure that must've answered yer question 'bout why she's so glum." I added.   "Calm." Mother corrected, standing up after letting Scooter jump off her. I put my food in the microwave and let it reheat. Mother headed for the steps, and I stopped her before she could put her foot on the first step.   "How's Herbert?" I turned to look at her and she was already rubbing her belly. She smiled and I couldn't help but smile too. Herbert was my soon-to-be baby brother. Mother was 5 months pregnant.   "He's-a movin'" Mother muttered, letting her hand fall from her stomach and onto the stairwell railing, "Got another ultrasound next week. Perfectly healthy."   "That's good ta hear." I said softly, looking back over at the microwave as it went off. I pulled open the handle and slid my plate out onto the counter. I heard mother start upstairs as grabbed a fork in the utensil drawer.   "Go ta sleep 'round ten, Ava. Ya got school tomorrow and I don't need ya up all night long readin', ya hear?" Mother called from the landing sternly. I chuckled and shouted back up at her.   "Ya have my word, mother! I don't need ta stay up any longer than ya!" There was silence afterwards, the sound of her footsteps upstairs muffled by the carpeting and the walls.   I sat down at the round table, sliding out a chair and plopping down in it. My food was placed carefully on the table's surface and I smiled down at it. I always loved my mother's cooking. Ever since father died, it had just been us in the house, making due with what we got.   My father and I were best friends before he met his untimely fate. We would cook together, hunt together, read poems together, and scavenge the woods together. We did everything together because I was all he had. Mother was constantly out at work, so we would frequently take care of the house and then go on our adventures. Life seemed like a dream until the day my father went on his usual excursion with Mr. Banks, an old family friend.   My father... hadn't come back home that day. Police reports say, according to what Mr. Banks experienced, that my father was mauled alive by a hungry bear. Mr. Banks escaped with his life, but... not my father. There was a funeral a couple weeks later despite a body never being found. Not even parts of it. I gave my blessings and hoped his soul would end up in heaven. I wished him goodbye the day he died, a nice 'I love you' because I hated it when my father left me... And then that was my last day seeing him. I mourned his death very earnestly for a week and I refused to leave my room. I wish things could've gone differently that day...   But you unfortunately cannot change the past.   I wondered what it would be like to have a male in the house again to try and find a happier note to my disconsolate thoughts. Perhaps Herbert would spark that fire that had died out long ago in mother and I. I silently thanked the Lord for my meal and started to eat.   I looked around me to keep my mind busy while I ate. My seat looked right out into the backyard, full of life and usually loud with the sounds of the night life. My dinner was peaceful, the only sound being the fan as it whirs around in the living room just above the couch. My eyes fixated on the window in the center of the old, wood door to the back. I saw the patio, but beyond the couple of wooden planks I was familiar with seeing, the rest was hard to tell. It wasn't like I didn't know my backyard, just if I wasn't used to seeing it, I'd wonder what was past the patio.   A shadow suddenly passed by the door.   It wasn't unusual for the shadows on the grass away from the patio to move in odd ways. The wind made the leaves on the trees create unsettling shapes sometimes.   This was different.   It moved quickly, almost like I blinked once and it was just a trick of the eyes. Of the mind. Of the imagination.   Only half-way through the empanada on my plate, I swallowed what was in my mouth and scooted backwards. It was only September, it wasn't time for scary things to be happening yet. That's what October was for. I was smart though. I had seen far too many horror films to not know any better. I set my fork on my plate and stood. I found a drawer and pulled it open, revealing a hardwood spoon as a weapon. Mother used to smack me with it when I was younger to straighten me up. Perhaps it can come to be of good use again. Closing the drawer, wood spoon in hand, I made my way to the door. Whatever I saw, it was big. I turned the knob on the door and watched it go out into the dark. I checked my surroundings and then closed the door behind me.   "Hello?" I called out curiously into the dark, stepping off the patio and into the grass. The wind blew gently, causing the leaves to rustle only a little. The grass was soft below my feet, curling and uncurling at the wind's command. There was never a reply, but I could've sworn I had stopped for a moment, just one moment, to see a pair of bright blue eyes staring at me through the thick of night.   After a long moment of silence, I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding in and laughed. It wasn't like Emily's, that light and bell-like sound. Mine was deep and hearty, obviously I had spent too much time with my father before he died to have not gotten my laugh from him. I shouted out into the wilderness, "I'm just goin' crazy! There ain't no big monster out 'ere!" I went back inside with a smile on my face. That unsettledness is now gone with the wind. I shut the door behind me upon entering my home again and plopped down to eat again. I left the spoon in front of me, finishing the empanada on my plate before burping with contentment. A day well spent did deserve such a treat from mother.   My dishes found the sink and sat there as I put the hardwood spoon away. Apparently today wasn't its lucky day. My feet then found the stairs and I soon was in the comfort of my room. I plopped down on my bed, turning my head to look out the window and smiled. I would have to put in another diary entry for that before I went to bed. I looked at the clock that hung above my desk and it read 8:26. I had plenty of time. I sat up, scooting off my bed and sitting in my desk chair. I stretched out my fingers, reached for my pencil and twirled it in my fingers. My diary was in the center of my desk. It didn't have a lock because it never left the house, and I thought that was unnecessary and frivolous. The thoughts that made it into here were either existential or typical everyday life thoughts. I had no one to love but my mother, my soon-to-be brother, and Emily. I opened a blank page and wrote the date. Then I started...   "Dear Diary, today was like every other day. Boring. Perhaps it's because kids aren't as interesting as they used to be in elementary school... Or maybe I just matured a lot more and they didn't. Either way, Emily had me help out for an upcoming band recital. Cyrus saw this as an opportunity to flirt with me. "I don't think I've ever seen you so hyper about a band performance. At least, I think this is the most hyper you can be... But, I got something better to show you that will make you even more hyper~" Disgusting. I don't appreciate it. I think it was established long ago: I didn't find anyone in my school attractive. After that, better-than-average experience, Emily and I walked home. She whimpered and obsessed over a stupid phone device. I think it's worthless but what do I know? I came home and ate one of my mother's empanadas. Perhaps I'm crazy, but I thought I saw something sneaky around out back. I pulled out my mother's hardwood spatula and trekked outside. Just a trick of the imagination. I'm not paranoid, but I fear something bad will come of this. I'm usually right...   This will not bode well.   Anyways, this is Ava Ruskin, living another day."   I put my pencil down on the open page and leaned back in my chair, letting out a silent sigh. Today was draining despite nothing quite important happening. I'm always tired anyway, so I believe there's nothing unusual about that. I fell out of my chair and onto the carpeted floor of the bedroom. Maybe I was just acting dramatic, but I just wanted to go to bed now. Leave one day behind and wake up to another. I snaked into my bed and under the covers, fanning my hair out on the pillow best I could and reached for my lamp. I pulled down on the string and watched as the gentle glowing light evaporated and left nothing but silky, black darkness.   I stared up at the ceiling for a moment, eyes lingering on the cracks that were faint in the moonlight that came through the open curtains, blinds pulled up slightly but just enough so I still maintained my privacy. The night was quiet, the sound of the wind outside and the wind from my fan the only sounds to be heard. I rolled over on my side, snug in the warm encompass of my sheets and closed my eyes.   Tomorrow will be another day.

~???~

The night was young, yet there wasn't a soul to be seen. The streetlamps flickered to life above me and occasionally a few would go out before bursting back to life again.

My head hung low, eyes however scanning the surroundings like a hawk. Pupils slits and lips twitching. I was searching for something. A thrill, a drink, an interaction...

Prey.

My shadow cast beside me, long and heavy as I passed under the looming streetlamps. Light dim and eerie, I could barely make it out myself. Shoes clamped down softly against the crumbling cement, making my movements almost impossible to hear.

If I found someone, anyone... Would they hear me if I approached from behind?

The idea excited me, my twitching lips breaking into a smile. Perhaps that's what I was waiting for... Prey.

I slipped into someone's backyard, the fencing rubbing against me as the openness of the meadow came into view. A slight rushing sound of water could be heard and I stood under a tall pine tree for a moment and admired the scenery. To my left stood a patio. Worn and used; it looked loved. A path was made in the meadow leading down to the rushing creek and I thought about the people who lived here.

No fishing rods, no baby toys. An old couple perhaps? Single mother? I moved onto the patio out of curiosity, heavy weighted feet only causing the floorboards to creak slightly. My fingers reached from the pockets of my faded green hoodie, feeling the top of the old love chair as my fingers ran over the bumps of woven plastic that intertwined infinitely.

Dusty.

Despite the well-loved patio, it looked like nobody had used it for a while. My head jerked up to the back door, suddenly noticing the bright light streaming from the window. I stood up straight and examined the door for a moment. The white paint on it was faded and peeling. The doorknob wasn't gold anymore, it was any ugly blackish-gray color.

I moved past the door quickly, not giving myself a moment to see who was inside. I moved off the patio and stopped just before turning the door to the side of the house. There was desperate shuffling coming from inside. My head turned to the side, but I didn't look behind me.

Then, I heard the door open.

From the shadows, I watched a girl emerge from the backdoor, holding a wooden spatula in her hands. Perhaps she had seen me pass. She looked like she was in high school. Sixteen or seventeen years old. Short, black curls and lovely hazel eyes. Even in the dark, I could still see the slight green color in her eyes in the moonlight.

She stepped off the patio and called out a "Hello?" into the darkness. I hadn't responded. I just kept watch. Her voice rang hollow into the woods she called out to. She looked around, body stiff and tense and eyes watchful. For a moment, her eyes caught mine and I could've sworn she went pale. My curious smile grew as she turned away, like she was doubting herself that she ever saw anything at all. She suddenly let out a breath, shaking her head. She started to chuckle, which soon turned into a hearty laugh, her free hand rising to run through the thick curls of her hair. "I'm just goin' crazy! There ain't no big monster out 'ere!" She shouted out into the wilderness. I sensed a southern twinge in her voice and silently hummed to myself.

She was a special girl, alright.

I watched her trudge off back inside, shaking her head and mumbling to herself. Conceivably, she probably did think herself crazy. The backdoor slammed shut behind her and I stood idle for a moment. Teenager. She couldn't have been living alone. Now, shaking my head, I started back out onto the sidewalk again. She wouldn't be my prey tonight. I wandered along the sidewalk, my eyes looking over at the road as it curved into another avenue.

I suddenly stopped.

In the distance, I saw a woman walking in a heavy jacket, hood pulled over her head. Her blonde curls stuck out from the fur, curtaining her face from view. I smiled wide, the feeling almost splitting my face. This was what I was waiting for... This was what I was looking for.

It seemed I had found my prey.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The next morning, the sunlight streamed in through the open blinds, hitting my face and highlighting my cheeks. My eyes fluttered open, vision blurry as I groaned. Another day of school. My endless cycle of school and home was more miserable than when I got my foot stuck in one of my father's bear traps. At least today was a Friday.   I rolled out of bed, bare feet hitting the soft carpeting with a small 'thud'. I rubbed my eyes, searching for the lamp string and tugging on it. With natural and artificial light mixing together in the room, I forced myself to wake up and went over to my dresser to grab my hairbrush. The feeling of the bristles combing through the thick curls of my hair made me let out a peaceful sigh.   I looked at the clock above my bed and saw how early it was. 6:32. I didn't have to leave until eight o'clock, so I guess I'd have to find something else to do to pass the time. Getting into a dark purple sweater, some cargo pants, and slipping some socks onto my feet, I opened the door to my room and headed downstairs. Mother isn't awake yet, so I am quiet while maneuvering the kitchen for breakfast. Maybe I'd just make myself a couple pieces of toast and go outside and eat it.   I opened the fridge and pulled out a loaf of bread and some peanut butter and set them on the island counter. I pulled out a plate from the cabinet and a butter knife from the drawer. I plugged in the toaster and put in my two pieces of toast. I waited for my food, walking around the island in boredom. The windows stayed open last night and I wondered why I hadn't thought of closing them before going to bed last night. Perhaps I wasn't that paranoid about whatever I saw.   I was pulled out of my train of thought when I heard the toast pop out of the toaster. Carefully picking the bread out of the machine, I placed the bread on the plate and slathered peanut butter on them. Putting my materials away and my peanut butter knife in the sink after licking it clean, I made my way to the door and went outside.   The cold wind woke me up all the more, the sun pouring through the leaves on the trees in the distance. I walked down the path through the meadow to my favorite reading spot by the creek. I took my time, munching on a piece of toast to keep my mind busy. The wind blew chilly, making me shiver. I picked up my pace, hearing the sound of the rushing water in the creek getting louder.   My huge sugar maple came into view and a smile grew on my face. The leaves rustled with the wind and the grass rubbed against my feet. I came to sit beside its trunk, soft dirt sinking with my weight. I placed my plate of toast in my lap and reached for a hidden book in a patch of grass. My poem book. I liked to read whenever I woke up early in the morning. A delightful way to pass my time. I opened the book to a random page and saw an interesting story. My eyes scanned the letters, and my smile widened. A familiar poem. "Morning Beauty" by Rosie Roberts...   "Through the trees a gentle glow, coloring the leaves I sat below. A tender wind blows through the air, wiping wild all through my hair. The Sun shines an adorning hue, blades of grass covered in dew. The rushing water is silent, but loud. The birds are singing without a doubt. By the tiny creek I sat, adjusting my wool worn hat. The swans waddled alongside with swiftness, my eyes scanning them with quickness. I soon find the sky, eyes so full of wonder as I look up high. A single tear forms in my eye, feeling like I'm about to cry. What a delightful morning, to utterly forget my dreadful mourning..."   Mourning was correct. I unfortunately had school today. I looked up from my book as I heard a small splashing sound in the creek beside me. The fish in the water were greeting me a silent hello. Letting out a breath of contentment, I closed up my book and set it back in the patch of grass it once was. I grabbed my plate and stood up, starting on my second piece of toast. Down the meadow path I started again, the soft sound of rushing water slowly disappearing from earshot. I walked up the steps of the patio, hearing them creak beneath my weight. Upon opening the door to the kitchen, I was greeted by my mother, who was just now stumbling off the stairs.   "Mornin' Mum." I said with a smile, wiping crumbs off of my top lip. "How'd ya sleep?"   "Better than normal, I bet." She said, waddling over to me. The messy bun atop her head swayed slightly back and forth with her movements.   "That's good ta hear. Usually, ya can't get that body pillow ta work fer the life of ya." I chuckled slightly to myself, putting my plate in the sink and walking over to my mother. I gave her a light hug, feeling her arms wrap around me. I let go of her and she went to let the dog out as he came rushing down the steps and screeching to a halt at the back door. Scooter burst outside as soon as mom opened the door and closed it with a silent chuckle. Then, she went to sit down on the couch in the living room. She sat with a sigh, giving me a smile as I walked to get my bag.   "Ya have a good day at school now, alright sweetie?" She said gently, reaching for the dials on the old television. I picked up my bag and slung it over my shoulder in a lazy way. I gave my mother a small smile, nodding to her.   "Ya have my word, mum. No need ta worry 'bout me." My mother nodded back, and I started for the front door. I slipped on my shoes while standing up and reached for the doorknob. I overheard the news playing on the television as I swung the door open. Something about a murder in town. Maybe my ears were just playing tricks on me, but the door was already closed before I could hear anymore.   I adjusted my sweater, so it covered my chin and I sunk into its warmth. Then, I started out of the driveway and to the sidewalk. A peaceful mindset settled with me again as I walked, raising my eyes up to see the rising morning sunshine through the leaves on the oak trees. Upon arriving at the avenue Emily and I usually meet up at, I saw her in the distance, combing her fingers through her hair. She caught sight of me and smiled wide, waving me over with enthusiasm. I didn't speed up, so Emily came running towards me.   "Good morning, bestie!" She said happily, running into me with open arms and hugging me tightly. I felt my eyes almost pop out of my head with her bear hug and she allowed me a breath when she finally let go. With a breathless chuckle, I greeted her with less enthusiasm, but with the same amount of love.   "Good mornin' ta ya too, Em." I said, shoving my hands back in the pockets of my pants. Emily pulled out a hand and held it in hers and already started walking. I kept up with her fast pace reluctantly, feeling myself occasionally trip over the cracks in the sidewalk. Out of the neighborhood, we found ourselves in the city again, watching the streetlights flicker off as the sun rose up above the buildings. I saw the city start bursting to life. Cars chugging along the road and citizens trekking the sidewalk with swiftness. My mind was caught in a daze with all the quick movement, that I almost didn't notice the familiar voice that rang out.   "Ya girls headed ta school?" A voice called out, stopping me in my tracks. I turned to see where the voice was coming from, Emily having that same big smile on her face as she happily greeted the weapon store owner. Mr. Banks. He sat leaned against the glass of his shop, cigar occasionally popping in and out of his mouth. He was respectful enough not to blow it in our faces though. Emily approached him with arms spread like she was looking for a hug and Mr. Banks pulled his cigar between his fingers and wrapped a big arm around her shoulders. It wasn't unusual for Emily to look for hugs from everyone. She told me she liked hugging Mr. Banks the most because he was... "squishy".   I've never known how to respond to that.   "Goin' ta school... like usual." I grumbled, leaning down and looking at the cement. My furrowed eyebrows were hidden by the curls that fell in my face. Mr. Banks let out a laugh, sounding like the one my father used to make... such a long time ago that felt. Upon lifting my head back up, Mr. Banks was giving me that iconic smile of his, flashing me his war scar in the process. A thin line that traveled down the vicinity of his right eye, making the iris look like a sickly pale blue. I always assumed he was blind in that eye, but he never told me otherwise. He used to work in the military, so that was why Mr. Banks owned a weapon shop. He was probably well trusted to own and operate some of the weapons considering he is a veteran. He's retired now, making money off his little shop. It's nostalgic and sometimes I can come to appreciate that this is on my way to school every day. Emily allowed Mr. Banks a reprieve from her seemingly tight hug and bounced up and down with joy.   "I love going to school, Mr. Banks!" She told him, like she had many times before. A broken record she seemed to assume occasionally. "There are so many lovely people waiting for me there every day! I never miss a day of school, so I don't disappoint them!" She said with a proud smile, hands on her hips as her hair blew in the slight wind. Mr. Banks offered her a hand on the head, ruffling her curls and getting his fingers stuck just a tad. Mr. Banks wasn't just a long-time friend of my now deceased father, but he also is a business partner with Emily's father, Mr. Tucker. Everyone knew Mr. Banks; he was no stranger, and he usually made sure of that. He was always friendly and smiling, it wasn't often you caught him without a grin on his old, bearded face.   "Well, ya two should run along now. Don't wanna be late fer a fun day, ay?" He asked, taking his hand away from Emily as she stepped back to grab for my hand again. Emily nodded enthusiastically, her bangs falling into her eyes and causing her to stop for a moment to fix them. As we started away, Mr. Banks waved us off, that smile never leaving his face as he called out, "Have a nice day, girls!" I nodded back to him calmly and turned around. Now he was gone from sight.   School wasn't far from Mr. Banks store, just a few blocks down the road. The bustling noise coming from the courtyard made Emily speed up a little and I was once again dragged along. Upon entering through the open gates, Emily let go of my hand and gestured for me to follow her to our usual tree. I sauntered over, feeling a little groggy as my movements did well to perfectly reflect that. I leaned against the oak tree's trunk, feeling the hard bark sink into my sweater. Emily ran off to a group of friends once she caught sight of them and I was left to my own devices. While the morning was cold, the heat of the sun hitting down through the leaves of the tree made the atmosphere feel incredibly enjoyable. I closed my eyes, sinking in the feeling of the sun on my face.   Then my peaceful moment was shattered.   "How ya doing, Ava-kins?" I heard a sly voice say as an arm wrapped around my shoulder. I opened my eyes and saw Cyrus leaning close to my face, his cheek practically touching mine. I gave him the evil eye and his sly smile turned into a smirk, but he backed off anyway. He knew what was good for him and he was not inclined to find out how bad I'd hurt him if he pushed his limits with me...   Something about breaking every bone in his body.   Emily was suddenly in front of me again since she probably had noticed Cyrus's untimely presence and Cyrus saw this as a perfect opportunity to slide right next to Emily and wrap his arm around her shoulder. I grimaced at him; he knew it annoyed me when he took advantage of Emily's precious innocence. "How ya doing this morning, m'lady?" He asked, looking at me with raised eyebrows. I offered him no reaction in return, that's just what he wanted.   Emily, unbeknownst to Cyrus's playful acts of flirting, answered happily, "Oh, I'm just wonderful today, Cyrus! I'm even better now that you're here!" She said, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing him. His eyes might as well have popped right out of his head and once she let him go, he decided he was done with his little act.   "Not like you ever change, Emily." He said with a softer smile, rubbing the back of his neck and kicking the dirt. His head turned to me once more and I just stared through him. His next sentence was very predictable. "You don't either."   I shrugged, looking off into the distance. I've known Cyrus for a while, not as long as Emily, but long enough to where he's basically attached himself to me. Coincidentally, every time I used to switch schools when I was younger, I always found Cyrus following. He was just a lost puppy, and he had unfortunately imprinted himself onto me. Cyrus let out a sigh, his soft smile disappearing from his face as he took on a more somber and serious look. Emily's expression changed with his.   "Have... y'all seen the news this morning?" Cyrus asked, keeping his head down and on the ground below. Emily cocked her head to the side curiously. I perked up, eyes finding Emily's instead of Cyrus's.   "I remember overhearin' it before I left fer school this mornin'." I answered, raising my hand up to place a finger on my bottom lip in thought. "It had somethin' ta do with murder..." My eyes squinted as I recalled thinking I was hearing things when I was leaving for school this morning. Perhaps I wasn't as crazy as I originally thought. That made a small smile come to my face.   "Murders? In this small town? Wouldn't we find the murderer rather quickly then?" Emily questioned, her eyebrows furrowed in fear and slight hope. Although she wasn't entirely innocent, considering she was well over 15 years old, she preferred to stay away from things that she found gross. (I learned that when I tried to watch a scary movie with her.) Murder was one of them and it didn't take long for disgust to form on her face as well... But there was also a good amount of curiosity there too. Even with hating murder, she always found herself reluctantly wanting to know more about it.   Cyrus started up again after a moment of silence. "Well, according to what the reporter had said on the news, the body was dismembered, and forensic evidence is yet to be retrieved and revealed to the public. This killer knows what he's doing, and some are saying that the girl looks a lot like a senior that used to go here." Cyrus paused for a moment, looking up for a moment in thought. Emily's impatience got the best of her, and she put her hand on top of his head. I watched her hand sink into his hair, the dark poofy hair flattening slightly and catching Cyrus's attention. "I'm pretty sure she looked a lot like you, Emily." He said with a dark chuckle, taking her wrist in his hand and bringing it down from his head. "Do you think the murderer ate her fingers? There weren't any on the body that they could find..." Cyrus opened his mouth and pretended he was going to bite off one of her fingers. Emily didn't move, barely made any attempt to move her hand away from him. I knew Cyrus wasn't actually going to hurt her, I remember him saying a few days ago when Emily accidentally got herself caught in the middle of a fight that "she is too precious to hurt." So, Cyrus would just tease her, but he never meant any harm. Thankfully, Emily hadn't gotten hurt that day she was caught in the middle of a fight. Everyone knew she was the daughter of the richest man in town. Of course they were afraid of her, that's why everyone preferred to be her friend instead. A lot of them thought they might get some treats from her. Like rich treats, but Emily wasn't that dumb.   My concern was ever growing even as I recognized that she made no attempt to pull away to what could have been a nasty bite. I wondered what made her like this... The look Cyrus gave me as he side-eyed me made me break away from my thoughts. "Cut it out now, Cyrus. Ya know she doesn't like that kinda play." I said sternly, pulling Emily's hand out of Cyrus's grip. It was surprisingly easy, meaning he wasn't holding her that tight. Did she want him to bite her? No, that wasn't right. That wasn't like her. Her shocked expression told me what I wanted. She was... just in shock. I still didn't think that was the full reason though...   "Do... ya have any idea who this senior chick was that was killed? Ya were in thought fer an awful long time until ya started freakin' out Em." I said with slight agitation behind my tone. Cyrus adjusted his orange hoodie a little before answering.   "Her name was Jennifer Moore if I remember correctly. Class president, music major, and really good at managing the set for school plays." He gave me a look when I raised an eyebrow at him. "What?"   "How did ya come ta know this girl by chance?" I leaned back on the heels of my shoes, rocking myself as I waited for his excuse that he didn't just make up all that on the spot. He smirked at me and I had a feeling he knew what I was thinking.   "She was a friend of a friend." Cyrus finally said, rocking a little himself from side to side. "She had quite the style too. Gotta say she was a sight for sore eyes. Hard to forget someone so good looking." He said that with a tad slur to his tone and I couldn't stop the eye roll that came after his words."Real piece of work ya are, Cyrus." I grumbled sarcastically, watching as Cyrus's smirk widened and he replied in an unusual cocky voice.   "I try to keep myself looking like one. Someday, I might have someone loving this hunk of junk." Thankfully, I found Emily secretly rolling her eyes as well, but she was smiling. I wasn't. Maybe she found his antics amusing. I found them annoying. The moment was allowed to pass as the school bell rang out and told everyone we needed to start heading to class. Emily found my hand like second nature and Cyrus almost found my shoulder. I swatted him away.   "Ya seem ta often forget that I don't like it when YOU, specifically, touch me." I harshly spat, giving him a look that thankfully made him back off.   "Maybe it wasn't that important to me." He said, trying to find something smart to say back to me per usual.   "Nothin's important ta ya... Ya seem ta be very forgetful that way..." I mumbled under my breath as we entered the school doors. The warmth of the halls was a nice reprieve from the coldness of the outdoors. The halls echoed as the voices of screaming children were heard and bounced off the tiling and walls. Cyrus strutted in front of us and turned so he was walking backwards. I didn't think that was a good idea, but he was a risk taker.   "Y'all got any plans today? I'm pretty sure my mom's ain't got nothing planned for me today, so I'm all yours if you're up to it." He winked at Emily and her smile widened.   "Oh, yes! I was meaning to ask if one or both of you could hang out with me today. I want to go exploring, maybe outside of Ava's house would be a nice spot. Lately, I've been reading up about nature and how life remains sustainable in these usually cold conditions. It's quite fascinating..." Emily's voice trailed off as she lost herself in thought for a moment. She suddenly blushed, the light pink color very visible on her pale cheeks as she added nervously, "Or, instead of listening to me ramble on about plants the whole time we can talk like normal people."   I watched Cyrus's expression change as he watched Emily get more quiet. Emily was a usual confident spirit. It was strange to watch her get... nervous. Sometimes I wondered if it had something to do with Cyrus constantly flirting with her, but then again I felt there was something steaming deeper from it. Before I had time to spiral about it, Cyrus predictably hit his head on the corner of a wall with a pained grunt. I couldn't help smiling again and nor could Emily. He laughed it off like it wasn't that bad, but I could see him muttering curses to himself as he fell in step beside Emily. We soon found our homeroom, piling in along with a few other kids. Emily liked to sit up front, so we started sitting with her so she wouldn't be lonely. I took Emily's left and Cyrus took her right. I placed my backpack under my feet, Cyrus just threw it on a random spot on the floor, and Emily hung it on the back of her chair neatly. A beat of silence passed between us as we all exchanged looks. The classroom was oddly quiet. Cyrus was about to open his mouth to speak, but the teacher beat him to it.   "Good morning, class." Mrs. Roseberry said in a somber voice that didn't make the morning sound all that good. She held a ruler in her hand and clutched it like it was something very important. She started to pace the front of the class as the students echoed her first phrase back to her in a confused voice. "I... have some terrible news to share with you all today." She said, walking over to her computer and pulling up something on the projector...   A dead body. Most of the class winced and the sound of chairs scooting backwards was heard, but the three of us leaned forward. The picture seemed familiar to Cyrus as his eyebrows furrowed. "This here, students, is the remains of a body found in the Hartwick Pines State Park around 5am this morning. She... was a former student here." Mrs. Roseberry cleared her throat and stood in front of the projector. "I advise you all to take precautions while being out tonight. This killer hasn't been caught yet and currently there is no evidence showcasing that they will be found. I would hate to see one of my own students end up dead just like this young girl here." Silence washed over the room as Mrs. Roseberry gave us a moment to process what we had just heard. So, none of this was a lie. This was real. And it was happening right now. The classroom suddenly got loud again as the students basically panicked.   Emily turned to me and said in a hushed voice, "Maybe we can cancel that 'walk-in-the-woods' trip today." Cyrus's head perked up and he suggested something else. His unsure expression turned into another smile that never meant anything good.   "Or," Cyrus dragged on, already leading me to believe that his idea was about to be ridiculous, "we could go hunt down that killer and stop anyone else from dying."   My hands found my forehead as I rubbed away the impending headache from his words. "Cyrus," I started with just his name to get his attention, and then I turned to him, hands folding on the desk as I finished, "Do ya have a death wish?"   "Not like I plan on going into the woods without being armed!" Cyrus said, holding his hands up in mock defeat to my critical gaze. "I'm sure you have a weapon we could take!"   For a moment, I just stared into Cyrus's soul. I only knew of one weapon that would actually come in handy for this kind of expedition and it was my father's rifle. I hadn't even touched, barely even seen my father's old rifle for about 5 years. I had gun experience, Mr. Banks and my father used to take me out hunting when I was younger. It never occurred to me that I might need to use my gunning skills that I learned with my father and Mr. Banks to try and hunt down a dangerous killer. Mr. Banks had actually come up with the idea that I learn to use one so when I was older, and I could legally own a firearm, I'd know how to protect myself. My gaze soon fell from Cyrus's as I thought of what getting to hold that old rusted rifle would bring back to me. My thoughts spiraled as I bore my gaze now into my desk, feeling my vision get hazy. The feeling of Emily's hand falling on top of mine brought me back before I lost myself.   "Ava? Are you alright?" Emily's soft voice was the only thing I allowed myself to hear in the flurry of noise that surrounded me. My eyes focused on her face, trying to make sure this was all real. I wasn't gone. I completely avoided Emily's question and leaned over to look at Cyrus.   "We could use my father's rifle." I finally answered him. Cyrus's smile widened with hope as he heard me speak, the sparkle in his eye telling me I shouldn't have said a word... But something told me this was destiny.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

After school had let out for the day, I felt like a huge sack of rocks. I had never listened to Cyrus talk so much in my life. Since I unfortunately shared most of my classes with him instead of Emily, I had to endure his endless droning on about weapons. Bombs, knives, guns,... nun-chucks. Apparently, he considered himself the know-it-all about weapons and I just sat there and listened to him. I wondered why I hadn't used my rare ability to block out his annoying voice. Maybe what he said was important to me...   "Did you know that during the American Revolution, riflemen would use flintlock muskets that fired three shots a minute? That was pretty impressive back in the 1770s!" Cyrus spun out facts like a robot. My eye twitched from all the noise he was making. That's all he sounded like now. Noise. Anymore and my head might explode.   "Here's a nice fact fer ya," I started, words coming through clenched teeth as I tried to get my anger under control, "did ya know if ya don't shut yer mouth right now, I'll be forced ta shut it fer ya?" Cyrus had taken a pause to listen to my cautionary words and it was like someone hit the mute button on him because a moment's time later, he was more silent than my father's dead carcass.   Emily came to lift the tension. "So, do you guys have anything else that you want to do?... So, we maybe don't have to go into the forest after all?" Emily's voice was hesitant as she came up from behind us as we were headed out the gates of the school. Emily had been on edge all day today after the chaos that erupted in our homeroom earlier this morning. She was deathly silent, and I was wondering if she had suddenly gone mute. This was a wonderful reprieve from my consistent worrying. Cyrus opened his mouth to speak, but I didn't even give him a chance.   "My usual plans stay the same. Eat, read, sleep." My eyes stared straight ahead the entire time I spoke. Emily already knew I'd answer that way. She looked to Cyrus for something a little more exciting. Cyrus side-eyed me, but decided it was okay to speak again.   "I'm still set on my 'hunting the killer' plan." Cyrus said, looking over at me expectantly, "You're still gonna get your father's rifle, right?" Both of them looked at me and I felt myself slouch in my sweater. I grumbled a curse, but reluctantly answered.   "It depends if I can actually find it." I mumbled, eyes inverted now on the sidewalk instead of in front of me. "My father was good at hidin' things. You can't expect me to know everythin'." A silence washed over us as my grumpy mood from earlier came back. I still didn't want to have to see anything of my father's. His memories were enough to taunt my conscience. Holding something that used to be his would make me... Well, I'm unsure what I would do. Maybe I'd just stop thinking all together. I remember right after I found out about his death that I stayed up in my room for a week and wouldn't come out. Everything and nothing was a nightmare all at the same time. Such contradictory things were about to make my head spin.   "You know, we really don't have to do it if you don't want to..." Emily said as she paced the space in front of me. I hadn't even noticed I stopped moving.   "Yeah, we can totally stay here ALL day and bore holes in the cement with intense stares!" Cyrus said dramatically, throwing his hands up in the air out of frustration. Everyone seemed on edge. Like, this stupid murder was somehow tearing us apart. But, maybe I was just overthinking things like usual and I was just making things difficult.   "I'll find that rifle. It doesn't have to be that big of a deal if we don't make it one." I looked up finally and looked to my left. In the distance, I saw Mr. Banks closing up his shop for the day. There, a distraction. My feet picked up again and down the sidewalk I started once more. Cyrus and Emily followed behind me and I was sure they knew where I was going... Er, who I was going to. "Closin' up shop early ta go huntin'?" I inquired as Mr. Banks turned to face me upon hearing my voice.   Mr. Banks laughed. I knew him too well. "Ya know it. Never too early or late to get myself some fresh meat, ya know?" He was smiling wider than usual but I wasn't worried. I knew this was one of his favorite hobbies. I remembered when he used to show me how to skin the animals he caught. It was gross at first, but I got used to the goriness of the procedure. Once the blood stained my hands, I found it difficult to get off though. I wondered how he did it... "Oh, one more thing before I head out..." Mr. Banks' tone of voice turned serious as he played with his belt, "Don't stay out too late tonight. I heard about that murder, and I don't think it would be a great idea for ya ta end up being the next victim..." There was silence for a beat as I processed his words... He sounded so calm about this despite the seriousness in his tone. The look I was giving him made him speak up again. "Don't worry 'bout me, Ava. I'm a grown man with a gun! I'm sure I'll be just fine if I come across this murderer." His smile came back and his face didn't seem so... eerie anymore. If he was wearing a hat, he'd tip it to me, but since he wasn't, he just nodded to me before heading off.   The three of us just watched as Mr. Banks sauntered off, Cyrus hummed and shook his head. "I've never liked the vibe that guy gives me." Cyrus's voice was low, like he was scared that Mr. Banks might hear him despite being far ahead of us. After a while, Cyrus decided to turn on his heel and head in the opposite direction.   "W-Where are you going?" Emily called after him. He stopped for a moment and turned his head to look at her.   "Not that way." Then he started off again, humming a quiet tune before shouting, "Don't forget the gun, Ava!" Then, he was gone behind a corner.   Emily seemed to slouch over as Cyrus disappeared. Her behavior towards him was vastly different now than it was yesterday. She looked at me with hopeful eyes after fixing her posture. "We... aren't going to die Ava, are we?" Her voice was soft as she asked and I was truly twisted with how I was going to answer her. There was no telling what path fate would bring us down. No exact 'yes or 'no'. So, I offered her something else.   "Why not just be optimistic about this, Em? I'm fairly certain with Cyrus by our side, we'll be just fine!" I gave Emily the best smile I could manage during such dire times and I watched emotions of all kinds flicker across her face. At the mention of being optimistic, she almost looked disgusted at the prospect. My worry came back and I wondered if with the current look of things, she couldn't find a way to be optimistic. It was unlike Emily to not find the bright side of things... What was deterring her? At the mention of Cyrus though, she had perked up again. Something about Cyrus lately was really getting to her and I couldn't tell what. Well, that was a lie. I might've had the slightest idea, but thinking about it now made me sick. Emily couldn't have... liked him now could she?   This was the absolute worst and wrong time to be thinking about romance. With a murderer on the loose and everyone in Grayling spiraling out of control with panic, things seemed far more grim than they ever did before. I tried something else, "Well, if we do live through Cyrus's frivolous death mission, I promise ya a soda."   That had thankfully gotten Emily to lighten up. She loved soda, but her parents didn't get it for her often. They saw their family above such things such as soda or cheeseburgers. No wonder why they were almost always out eating at some expensive restaurant. Emily nodded without another word, a smile trying to find its way onto Emily's face again, but it seemed slightly forced.   With Cyrus gone and Emily maybe more than a little distraught, I assumed we finally got home now. This time, I was reaching for Emily's hand and I tried to get her to follow me. She was reluctant.   Mr. Banks was nowhere in sight as we kept on. He moved fast for a big man. Perhaps he was hyper about his hunting expedition. That didn't seem out of character in the slightest. My mind drifted over to how Cyrus acted towards Mr. Banks again. Cyrus wasn't scared of Mr. Banks per se, maybe just... unsettled. He hadn't had many interactions with the man, so I might begin to understand why he wasn't exactly accustomed to Mr. Banks... mannerisms. He was constantly smiling, who wouldn't be unsettled by that?... Oh right, me.   Upon coming to our avenue, Emily came to a halt and held my hand for a moment. I could see in her eyes that something was wrong, and I had been fearing for far too long that there really was something wrong. Emily's eyes wouldn't meet mine and she hung her head in a somber way.   "Is it... strange that things are happening so quickly? Things are changing? Life is passing by instead of through?" Emily's sudden questions made me almost jump. I noticed her hair was messier, her cardigan unbuttoned one more than usual. Her bow slightly off place on her head. When her eyes finally found mine, she looked hopeless.   "Hey, Em. This ain't you. What's wrong?" I said, holding her hands in mine. Her voice came out soft and low.   "Things haven't been the best for me lately. Mum ignores me more; Daddy is out later on business..." Her voice trailed off and she started to sound choked up. "I'm trying to stay happy, but it seems everything is falling apart. Most of my friends don't like me anymore, chaos in school is becoming too much for me to bear, now the murder that has almost everyone in a panic." Her hands squeezed mine as she tried to find her final words. Her mouth opened, but words never spilled out. Her brow furrowed and she looked upset like I've never seen her before. "I just need to talk to someone. I don't write my feelings out like you do, Ava. I need to actually communicate my feelings. Staying bottled up, forever holding my peace-" She shook her head, "-that's not peace, that's agony. Being alone hurts me unlike you. I can't stand to stay silent..." Her hands released mine and I watched her turn away. "Maybe getting to do this little expedition with Cyrus and you will make me forget about my troubles." She managed to smile, stretching across her face in a way that seemed to hurt. She waved to me, saying, "Goodbye, Ava! See you later!" And then happily skipped off. For a moment, I just watched her disappear down the sidewalk. My thoughts were spinning. Why did she suddenly have to lay all that on me? Wasn't like I didn't already have enough to be existential about. The wind around me blew my hair around and into my face. The leaves kicked up and swirled before me like a calming dance.   Nothing about this day was calming.   The Sun had vanished behind the clouds and dipped halfway below the horizon. I didn't have time to mope over Emily.   I had a job to do.   I turned in the opposite direction of Emily and started off down my avenue. Despite my desperation to stop thinking about Emily, I didn't know how to turn off the part of my brain that WANTED me to think about it. If Emily felt terrible, I felt even worse. She had the life every girl in town wished for. Uptown joys, high class toys, fancy boys! She was living a dream. Perhaps because she isn't receiving any attention, she feels small.   My mind drifted over to Cyrus. For the life of me, I'd tell myself I hated that man from the moon and back, but perhaps he wasn't the problem. Cyrus didn't have as many friends as Emily. He actually found out about me through Emily! Cyrus has stuck with me for years despite the terrible ways I treated him. Maybe he has some sort of loyalty or respect for me? Cyrus had never done me wrong, I just needed more self-control. I straightened myself up as I put on a brave face. I'd tell Cyrus that when we all meet up again later this evening. He'll see that I can treat him better... That, I could redeem myself! Either way, I couldn't shake the feeling that this all connected to me somehow. Like... I was making their lives miserable and didn't have a clue in the world. My hands soon found their way to get caught in my hair, my proud expression flipping to a nervous one...   Was I always the problem?!   I hadn't even noticed I was standing at the door of my home until I felt Scooter run into my knees, knocking me off balance and causing me to land on my bottom. Scooter's tongue found my cheek and a slimy, cool feeling crawled up the warmth of my face. I stood back up with an unusual swiftness, using the sleeve of my sweater to wipe off the saliva coating my cheek, and opened the door. Mother was probably asleep. Her mid-day naps weren't uncommon during this part of her pregnancy. Scooter hurriedly followed me inside and the door closed behind me with a soft 'click'. The house was silent, except for the muffled snoring coming from upstairs. Mother also left the door open.   I crossed the room and my hand was on the doorknob of the backdoor in moments. Scooter followed me out the back with a burst of energy, running out to go do his business on a nearby tree. I watched him disappear into the tall grass and then started down the path to my favorite tree. Right now, I was just looking for a way to calm down. The light in the sky was growing dim as the oranges and pinks began to fade. The leaves on my sugar maple hung low to the ground, making a shadow around the trunk. I crawled under the branches and sunk down against the trunk. The growing dimness in the sky was making me feel weary. I reached for my poem book from the tall grass and examined its cover.   I had always taken for granted the things I read in this book. The lessons I could learn from it were very important and I sometimes missed them entirely. There was this weird wood plank I always put my poem book on. It seemed like it had been buried under the ground for years, so I never bothered to disturb it... But now I was curious. Before, it wasn't exactly essential for me to know what the plank was. I just assumed it was a part of the maple tree trunk that had been torn off. I put the poem book down in my lap and pushed the tall grass aside that concealed the plank from vision. I put both of my hands on each side of the plank and started to pull. It seemed lodged in the dirt, so I brushed some grim off it and revealed to me it wasn't just a plank.   It was a box.   Even more curious than I was before, I removed my poem book from my lap and moved it to the far side of the trunk. Standing up, I wrapped my fingers around the edge of the box and used all my strength to pull. Out of the ground it slowly came, old clumps of dirt clinging to its sides as the now rectangular box emerged. Once I had it fully out from the Earth, I sat down and set it between my legs. The box looked like it saw better days. Old, molding wood and holes scattered throughout the box. There was a rusty lock hanging from one side of the box. I tugged on it and felt it crack in my hands. The metal must've also been so old that it couldn't even hold up anymore. With the loop part of the lock split in half, I removed it and placed it next to me. Then, I opened the box with a curious look.   My eyes widened with surprise as the lid of the box fell open. My hands jerked backwards to my chest, and I couldn't help letting out an involuntary gasp. How could I have left this in the ground for so many years and never notice it? Never care to notice it...?   Laid neatly inside the box was my father's old hunting rifle.~Emily P.O.V.~   I didn't really have any plans to go home today. No one was waiting for me and no one would care if I went missing, right? No one would come looking for me...   I didn't like thinking like this. Not having happy thoughts. If anything, being sad made me sick. So sick, I just wanted to throw up. I was taught that I should always see life through a smile. The better side of life. The bright side.   I didn't know how to find a bright side right now.   Smiling felt like more of a chore now than a natural thing. I didn't feel like smiling anymore, but I was afraid to worry my friends and family. I didn't want them to know I wasn't happy. I just wanted things to stay the same, not change. I hated change.   My stomach felt horrible as I trudged the street, dragging my feet across the sidewalk with a heavy heart. I was just doing everything for them. To make Ava happy. To impress Cyrus. To show my parents I was the happy girl that they raised me to be. Everything was happening so fast, maybe Ava's attitude was finally taking its toll on me. I wasn't supposed to be the existential girl, I was supposed to be the happy girl! Everyone counted on me to brighten their day! To be the sunshine on their cloudy day. If I wasn't that anymore, if I disappeared, I wouldn't matter anymore.   I gulped down the lump in my throat as I wrapped my arms around my stomach. This sickness is making me dizzy now. I tried to fix the bow atop my head and brush out my hair with my hands. It was like I was careless with brushing it this morning. I felt like a mess. My life was a mess. Everything was a mess.   Without my happy attitude, everything felt hopeless and bleak. Even the dying fall leaves on the ground brought me no joy. My thoughts were swirling around in my head like a tornado and if I didn't stop this quickly, I might as well pass out.   Home came into view, windows sparkling in the fading light of the sky. A forced smile came to my face as I climbed the steps to the porch. My neighbor's cat sat curled up on the swinging bench, her tail swishing back and forth in a lazy motion. I paid her less attention than usual and placed my hand on the door knob. For a moment, I contemplated going in. "There wasn't anyone waiting for me inside. Just leave..." My thoughts echoed in my head as my hand slowly slipped off the handle. That little voice in my head didn't have the smartest idea, but I felt compelled to listen to it.   Off the porch I soon found myself and in the backyard a moment after that. I was still home, they wouldn't mind if I stayed outside. I rounded the perimeter of the yard, admiring the ponies as they made small noises in their pens. They scraped their hooves against the dirt and swished their tails against the gates. They looked at peace, they were well cared for at least. The grass was neatly cut and the trees were trimmed. It looked beautiful, like everything in this neighborhood.   I stopped at the end of the yard, the creek separating my yard from the great unknown. I was never allowed to cross the creek without an adult. The forest was so much more naturally grown then the yard I stood in. My eyes lingered on the trees in the distance as they swayed with the passing wind. The tall pines reached to the sky and loomed over me. It felt like it was calling out to me.   That terrible sick feeling from before had now vanished as I took over a calmer state of mind. I looked behind me and back at the house.   They wouldn't mind if I was gone for a while.   With a deep breath, I crossed the creek, my legs sinking into the frigid water with determination to get away. To get across. My striped socks clung to my legs, skirt just barely hitting the surface of the water as I waddled across. The bottom of the creek started to rise again as I made it to the other side and once I crawled out, I felt terribly cold. I tried to swipe the water off with my hands, but it was useless. I guess I'd just have to suffer.   Pulling myself together, I looked ahead instead of behind and knew there was no turning back. I started this journey, and I was going to finish it. The fallen leaves crunched under my feet as I started into the woods, the tall pines bristling in the evening breeze. I hadn't much on, but my cardigan did enough to keep the cold off of me. With the sinking sun gone and the air growing colder, I was beginning to think this was a bad idea. I don't have regrets now though.   Into the forest I ventured, the tall grass rubbing against my legs. The birds gave out their evening calls and the sound of the water started to fade. Soon, there was just silence. The wind had stopped, and the sound of rushing water had disappeared. I was just surrounded by trees. Tall, unmoving trees. I wasn't unsettled and I wasn't scared, but a little bit of worry creeped up on me. How far had I ventured into the forest? I hadn't really gone that far, now, had I? I spun around in my place, trying to see something that wasn't just trees. Maybe I was overreacting, but my isolation in this forest might not have been the best idea for me. The air grew colder, and hope grew smaller. I walked further, desperately looking for salvation.   That's when I saw something in the distance.   A small, wooden shed sat in the middle of a clearing. The building seemed familiar, like I had seen it before, but the memory was quite distant. Ava might have brought me here when we were younger. When her father was still alive. Now it has come back to me. This was Mr. Banks' hunting shed. I used to think he didn't use it anymore because it is so old, but perhaps I could be wrong. Maybe he was in there. A smile grew on my face as I thought about how I'd find him, and he'd guide me back home. I didn't know the woods as well as he did.   As I got closer to the shack though, a terrible smell emitted from the entrance. I backpedaled, a look of disgust forming on my face as my hands came to cover my nose. What was in there that smelled so utterly repugnant? "An animal might've crawled in there and died..." "Perhaps Mr. Banks was skinning an animal..." I assumed as I reluctantly turned the knob of the door.   I was met with a horrific sight.   The body of Jennifer Moore was stung up on the back wall of the cabin before me. Her pale eyes stared back at me in a forever call for help that would never be heard. I was so terrified, my scream caught in my throat. No, this couldn't have been Mr. Banks' shed. My back hit against something squishy and I slowly turned around.   To meet the stare of Mr. Banks.   "It seems ya've discovered my little secret." Mr. Banks said in a smooth tone of voice. He didn't seem worried that I would scream. Didn't seem worried that I would run. He didn't have to.   There was no way I could do both. No one would hear me scream anyway. My face turned paler as he placed a friendly hand on my shoulder like he was trying to comfort me, but my fear was over all else. Mr. Banks guided me out of the shed with a smile and closed the door. The rancid smell still hadn't left my senses. I was so overwhelmed; it took me a moment to notice the axe that he held over his shoulder. There was blood splattered and dried onto its surface and Mr. Banks' smile grew as he leaned down to be closer to my face. "Ya'd look better with a smile, dear. Where has it gone?"   My eyes squinted at his question. Did he not understand that in a situation like this, there was no smiling? And it wasn't just that, the entirety of my day had been terrible. Murders, chaos, existential crises, and now meeting an actual murderer. There was no reason to smile now, and I didn't think I'd ever get an opportunity to smile again.   My words choked out of my mouth, "I... don't wish to smile. Today has been too abhorrent to even bear a smile." My voice was small as the man that held me laughed, his hand moving down to hold my arm as he launched his hand out with the axe in it. A mad glint was in his eyes, and I felt myself shrink.   "Oh Emily, don'tcha remember what yer mother told ya? Always look on the bright side. Life can't be that horrible, can it?" Mr. Banks let out a hearty laugh as he got serious again. "I don't know if I ever told ya, but you were always my favorite. Ya were made in my image, constantly smiling and reassuring others that everything would be alright..." Mr. Banks brought the axe head down onto the ground and stared at me. "Ya weren't ever supposed ta see this."   "I didn't want to!" I blurted out, "I should have just stayed at home! I was curious, I just wanted to help my friends. You know how I am!"   "So then where are yer friends, huh?" Mr. Banks questioned back, "I don't see a soul in sight in these woods!" He scanned our surroundings with a bit of a flourish, and I answered quickly.   "I-I got impatient and went into the woods alone. We were all gonna go look for the murderer... that we heard of on the news..." My voice trailed off as his stare became more intense. "Well, I found you, but I wasn't planning on killing you!" I added hastily.   "Someone like ya probably couldn't even stomach murderin' something." Mr. Banks said with a laugh, bringing his axe just under my chin. "You were raised to act like a princess. Ya wouldn't be able ta do what I do."   The blade of the axe was so close to touching my skin that I felt hopeless. I should've waited for my friends; I didn't know someone so kind could have such an evil and twisted heart. If I could do it all over again, go back in time, I would've stayed at home. I would've never even gone to school. Now, I didn't have anything left to hope for.   "I could tell ya not to tell anyone else about what ya saw, but knowing how big of a mouth ya've got, I don't think yer very trustworthy." I gave him pleading eyes as his smile widened. "Ya were almost like the child I never had. It will be terrible ta lose ya..." The blade of his axe trailed along my skin, and he seemed to revel in the way I hated this. How fearful I was. My breath grew more ragged with each passing second and it almost seemed like Mr. Banks was counting each breath I took.   "1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10." Upon hitting the number ten, Mr. Banks removed the axe from my neck and raised it above his head. With a crooked smile, he repeated his words from earlier. "It would be terrible ta lose ya..." He paused for a moment, "But not that terrible."   Those were the last words I heard before his axe came down upon my head.   My initial shock had long passed after holding the rifle for a good long 5 minutes. Processing my thoughts took longer than I first assumed, but I was prepared to shut down. I thankfully hadn't, but I found it hard to tear my eyes away from it. All the memories came back in such a hard crash, like a hurricane. I attempted to gather myself, shaking slightly as I stood up. My gun safety training came back to me as I moved my hands to lay properly on the rifle. Pointer finger off the trigger, left hand on the nose.   I looked around me, noticing that the sky had grown darker. I must've spent quite a long time staring at that stupid rifle. I turned to look back at the patio of my home. Maybe, if I didn't get the chance to return, I could write a diary entry for the police to find in case my mother got worried. I laid the rifle down against the trunk of my sugar maple and headed back inside to grab my diary. In through the backdoor and up the stairs, mother was still fast asleep. I passed her door and entered my room. I grabbed my diary off the desk and started for the door, but then stopped myself in the doorway.   Was... I really leaving this quickly without saying goodbye? The lamp in my room was still on and my bed was unmade. This place wouldn't ever be the same if I didn't return. How would that make mother feel?   I shook my head, whispering a silent 'goodbye' to all my lovely things. Then, down the steps I went, opening my diary and starting my potential last entry...   "Dear Diary, if you're reading this, I am most likely dead. My friend Emily thinks I over think things too much, but I always believe it's good to be an overthinker. Might save my life. Not this time probably. Cyrus and Emily, two of my friends, convinced me to go searching, er rather hunting, the Hartwick Pines the night of November 3rd, 1973, for a serial killer. If I don't come back and somebody's reading this, please give my book collection to somebody who will take care of it and tell my mother I love her a lot and I can't be here for my soon-to-come baby brother. Hopefully our bodies will get found if we do die. If we don't, then I owe Emily a soda. There's one in the fridge. I only pray for our safety... This is Ava Ruskin... maybe coming back."   I laid my pencil down on the page I finished on and closed my diary. I placed the diary atop the box I found my father's rifle in and reached for the gun still propped up on the trunk of my tree. I was rethinking my earlier idea of going with Emily and Cyrus. They both could have chickened out of this for all I knew, but considering Cyrus's eagerness...   I had now decided this was my job to finish. The amount of the pain I was putting myself through for this definitely deserved a few rounds out of this old gun. I opened the chamber and noticed the rifle was loaded. I thought that was unusual and then started to think about why this was. My father was very weird when it came to gun safety. He would've never left it loaded and in my reach.   Then something else came to me.   If on the day of my father's death, he was out hunting with Mr. Banks, how could his rifle end up in the ground encased in this box? I remember the news reports very clearly. His rifle wasn't recovered, his body wasn't recovered. Mr. Banks had vividly explained the experience he witnessed as my father was mauled by a bear. My skepticism was now growing...   What if Mr. Banks had lied?   My grip on the rifle tightened as I made the connection. For years, I had been living under the illusion that Mr. Banks was innocent, but if that was a lie, was he just a threat I had been living with without a clue of any danger? I tried to pull myself out of my train of thought, but now that I was knee deep in this theory, I felt the blood boiling under my skin.   Sorry Cyrus and Emily, this was my game to play now.   Without looking back, I gave my sugar maple a pat on the trunk and started over the creek. I hopped over the rushing water, almost slipping over the edge, but catching myself before I lost my balance. The dark of night was taking over now and the pines were getting hard to see, but I knew these woods like the back of my hand.   I was ready to go hunting.   I ventured into the woods, footsteps heavy with the determination to end the life of whoever this vile human being was that saw murder fit in the hands of one who wasn't God. If anything, whoever this was thought they were playing God, and they wouldn't be for much longer. With that thought set in my mind, I moved to pop a muscle in my neck and set a face of concentration. With that, a poem came back to me that I used to recite after the death of my father...   "Days are long with sorrow, everything and everyone is so hollow. People aren't what they used to be. I'm not what I used to be. Things are dying with the fading autumn light. Life just seems like a big, useless fight. Moving away I find myself, reality and fiction a mix of delusion. Going away he found himself, his death a terrible conclusion. What more can I do if everything means nothing? What is this feeling that is so crushing? It seems the Earth is spinning slower, that time is ticking by and sometimes flying right over my shoulder. If no one will speak then the world will grow quiet and weak. The darkness will enclose us and there will be no more fuss. Soon, like a predator and prey, the Sun will set on our final day. Then as death rears its ugly head, soon I shall come to be dead."   I took a moment to gather my thoughts after the recitation of my poem. Everything seemed grim and bleak, the world suddenly seeming like a dark shade of gray as the night dominated the light. Still, with an air of unease and tension residing in the air, I was prepared for anything... And I say that whilst recollecting about the safety of a firearm being held in my hands. The silence seemed to grow louder as my steps grew slower and longer. A stride of cautiousness was what I took on as my rifle was lifted slightly off its point in the ground. With my guard up and head held high, my senses seemed to be on high alert when I remembered what I was out here for again.   Hunting a dangerous killer.   "You can be anyone," I told myself as my eyes scanned the area, "Small and feeble. Big and hunky. It doesn't matter, you won't scare me. You're only out for one thing and that's the feeling of another life ending in your own hands." As my words sunk in, a disgruntled expression snaked half-way onto my face. Just thinking about this murderer had me at my wits end.   I tried to refocus myself and steer clear of my thoughts. They weren't the best place to be right now. I stilled myself at the sound of another pair of feet crushing leaves under their feet. I was no longer moving, so someone else might've been tracking behind me. I swung around, rifle pointed up at my target, but my finger never moved to the trigger. Upon me was the oh-so-humble Mr. Michael Banks. A soft smile grazed his face as he stared down at me and I couldn't help suddenly feeling uneasy around him. Mr. Banks gave little pause for me to process.   "What'cha doin' out here so late, Ava?" He had started without tension in his voice, "I told ya not ta stay out too late..." Now, a hint of passive-aggressiveness slipped its way into his tone before he cleared his throat and used the tip of his finger to move the tip of my rifle out of his face. I lowered it the rest of the way, but my body remained tense. My previous thoughts from earlier had enraged me, but now I needed to stay composed. Something about all this didn't seem right.   "Where's yer gun at?" I asked, avoiding his question and responding with my own. His face contorted into a questioning gaze as his eyebrows lifted. "I thought ya were goin' out huntin'. That's why ya closed shop early today."   "Why are ya holdin' a gun?" He shot right back at me. It seemed none of us were interested in answering each other's questions. There weren't enough answers though. There never was.   Just like for my father's death.   "I know ya recognize this ol' rifle," I started, nodding down to my firearm that stayed safely pointed at the ground, "Father had it the day of his death. Why was it suddenly in my backyard?" Mr. Banks took great care in drawling out a low chuckle, like something about this conversation was funny to him. I wasn't laughing, and a fixed expression of glower remained on my face. His soft smile seemed to grow.   "The authorities let me keep the evidence since it wasn't exactly an important part of Parker's death." Wait, what was he saying? The authorities said they never recovered his rifle. Was he lying or was the news reports? My head felt like it was spinning, and it began to feel even worse. Hearing Mr. Banks spout my father's name out like that had me taken aback, but I tried not to show it. I must've done a bad job at hiding my discontent because Mr. Banks' smile seemed to only grow more. "So, I took matters into my own hands and decided it was a good idea to bury his rifle as a way of layin' him to rest. That was his favorite thing in the world, but above that was you and I couldn't bury ya! Ya weren't dead and I prayed ya wouldn't be for a long time." Mr. Banks then shook his head and I spoke up.   "Why didn't ya tell me ya were doin' that?" I asked, feeling conflicted with my thoughts, "I would've liked ta have been at that funeral ta bless my father's spirit. So would my mum!" I felt my voice crack as rage started to overcome me. I was losing my composure and therefore my focus. "How could ya be so selfish?!"   "Ya were ten years old, Ava! Ya wouldn't have understood what was happening! I saved ya a lot of grief!" Mr. Banks tried to reason his way out of this, but I wasn't convinced. The air was tense and the only sound was my heaving chest as I stared down my father's former best friend. Mr. Banks seemed to be getting a kick out of my state and suddenly, his expression turned sinister. I lifted my gun up again as he took a step towards me.   "There's something not right with ya..." I said in a steady voice, my eyes narrowing as I tried to see through the anger that clouded my thoughts. Cyrus was on to something earlier and I was finally starting to see why.   "Oh, now ya finally come ta that conclusion? After 15 years, Ava, I would've thought ya were smarter than that." Smile growing and growing, at this point I thought it might split his face right in two. He stepped closer and I felt the urge to step back, but then I remembered who the one with the weapon was. I never lowered the rifle, if anything, I lifted it. He was playing a dangerous game and maybe he thought I wouldn't shoot...   Then he'd be lying to himself.   "Perhaps I should show ya somethin' that'll make ya calm down." Mr. Banks said with a sudden turn of calmness, turning around and stepping back. Was he backing off? No, that didn't seem right... He moved to a nearby bush, giving me an odd look before pulling something out from behind it...   My expression changed entirely.   Held in Mr. Banks' hands was the head of my best friend Emily. Eyes half-lidded and corners of her lips stitched upwards into a smile, I felt myself become instantly sick. There was no doubt in my mind now that Mr. Banks wasn't Grayling's off-the-hook killer. Tears welled up in my eyes as I forced myself to look upon the nightmarish sight. My best friend had died at the hands of the one who called himself 'God'.   "Doesn't she look better wearin' a smile?" Mr. Banks asked with a crazed smile of his own. "She came to me in a state I've never laid eyes on before. Upset beyond belief, I thought I'd make her smile one last time..." He gave a pause to his words and I saw a contradicting statement coming, "That one last time will be forever!" Mr. Banks then started to laugh, like he had just made the funniest joke ever. My teeth clenched as I spat out harshly.   "You foul, vile, distasteful waste of life! Only the Devil shares your passions of takin' what's not yers!" My hands shook with the angry vibrations of my voice, rifle trembling along but never slipping from my grip. Mr. Banks dropped the head of my former childhood friend at the sound of my shout, hearing it echo through the trees and silent night.   "Ya might think I'm the Devil in the flesh, but do remember that the evil never lay to rest. Quit tryin' ta be a hero, Ava! She's already dead." Mr. Banks started to close the distance between us and he stopped when the muzzle was right on his forehead. He gave me that terrible smile and I was forced to hear his next words. "And you'll be next." My mind went into overdrive as he finished and I did the most sane thing possible.   I moved the mussel off his forehead and hit him as hard as I could in the head with the barrel. Then I ran. Ran, ran, ran until my legs felt numb. I had to get away. From this, from everything. Emily was dead, my best friend for years and years. Why was this happening? How could this be happening?! Wake up, wake up- "Wake UP!"   Rifle swinging in my arms, breath coming out in short gasps, everything seemed to spin. My lungs felt like they were on fire and my vision was blurry from my tears. Now everything really was falling apart. I came to my knees beside a river at some point, so delirious that I thought I might be seeing things. I tried to catch my breath, emotions stirring my senses and making me sick. The thick smell of pine trees and river water mixed together in a haphazardous concoction that overwhelmed me. I wasn't out of the woods yet though. Literally and figuratively. The tension was still in the air and I could feel it all throughout my body. It hurt like I was carrying the weight of a 10 ton pile of rocks. I hadn't completely lost myself, but it was getting harder to keep my emotions in check. This was a life or death game now and I couldn't lose for the life of me.   "Ava!~" The familiar sing-song voice of Mr. Banks rang out through the forest and I was up off my knees in a matter of seconds. "Ya know ya can't hide from me! Yer just making this so much more fun!" He sounded like he was all around me, his voice ringing in my ears, echoing in my head. I stayed completely still despite the feeling I had that everything around me was spinning. My head was no longer screwed on properly. Emily' death had completely thrown me off my rails and now I felt like a crazy train. I couldn't even mourn her death because it seemed mine was right around the corner. Eyes wide with terror and a demented look, I could pass for a wild animal at this point. I hoped the monster that was hunting me wouldn't find me, but considering I was standing in plain sight, I made his job a little easier.   Mr. Banks' eyes caught mine with a sort of crazed excitement and suddenly he had a large axe slung over his shoulder. He dropped the axe head to the ground and dragged it through the dirt as he approached me. "Found ya..." He drew out with a menacing smile. My firearm was already pointed at him as he came closer and closer, finger on trigger and ready to pull. Suddenly, he lifted his axe.   It all happened in a second. I pulled the trigger, his axe came down against the rifle and I closed my eyes just for a second. My hearing went dead as the gunshot rang out, and something slipped from my hands. The rifle. The rifle slipped from my hands. I opened my eyes again and there in the grass was the firearm, barrel completely cut off from the chamber.   I had missed.   I found myself frozen in shock, all blood draining from my face. HOW HAD I MISSED? Mr. Banks started to laugh at my terror, taking pride in my disappointed and mortified expression.   "I thought yer father taught ya a good aim. Looks like ya slipped up real bad this time and now there won't be next time." His expression twisted into one of pure evil as he envisioned probably a horrific death for my poor soul. "I still remember when ya were younger. Yer father taught ya ta observe nature, people, and life. But, he also taught ya not ta get attached. He was yer whole world! Yer Sun and Moon..." Mr. Banks then took a pause, like he was thinking of his last words. But, I knew him better than that. He had planned this out a long time ago. Then, his final words spilled out.   "And then he was GONE." While Mr. Banks reveled in the feeling of seeing how disgusted I was with him, I tried to back away, but realized I was at the foot of a bank. I didn't exactly have anywhere to go and I didn't want him to follow me and drown me. There was no doubt in my mind that his plan was to end my life, but his motives seemed unclear.   "Why are ya doin' this?" I asked, voice low and tense. "What has driven ya ta this point that ya feel it's right ta end the lives of others at yer own expenses? What makes ya think ya can play God?" Mr. Banks seemed almost hurt by my words, like I should've figured that out already also. He shrugged, like he wasn't going to brazenly re-account to me a whole backstory from how he grew to be the monster he was today and instead recall to me what he thought about the weather. I wasn't ecstatic about this one bit, but I was curious and only curious.   "It all started when I went into war for my first time. The Vietnam war in Europe. It was a thrill, quite the experience really. I had never felt so powerful before, being on the winning side. I've never had the chance to be on the winning side of anything in life until that day. Once I served a few years in action, I retired and found my new life here, but I still craved that feeling again that I got when I was at war. That's when I met yer father. He showed so many wonderful qualities that I took a likin' towards him fairly quickly. Then, as time went on and you were born, this itching feeling came back to me more often. I had the urge to kill again. So, one day, I decided I would end yer father's life for that dazzlin' feeling again. We were in a desolate place, I had to take advantage of the opportunity once it presented itself. Oh, I'll tell ya it felt so good. The sight of the light leaving his eyes, the way he struggled under me when I finally had him on the ground. the way he clawed at me ta get one breath in..." Mr. Banks trailed off as his voice got quieter. The way he described the death of my father sounded like how a psychopath might. I've read my fair share of murder mystery stories to know. Mr. Banks shook his head and started up again to my utter misfortune. "I won't bother ya with all the juicy details. Those were the best parts and I feel I should spare ya the pain slightly. Once he was dead, I buried his body, took his rifle, and lied to the police. It was one of my best performances, they believed everythin', and I was never found out. Not for 5 years... But that itching feeling came back and now I wanted something else..." Mr. Banks now started to lift his axe off from his shoulder and laid it flat in his palms. "I wanted ta be able ta relive that feelin' of takin' a life all over again. You, Ava... were always the closest thing ta ya father. and now... it's yer turn ta join him next in the grave!"   Mr. Banks grabbed my wrist and lifted his axe over his head, whispering a familiar set of words. "Soon, like a predator and prey, the Sun will set on yer final day. Then as death rears its ugly head, soon ya will be dead." Mr. Banks' smile spread to split his face in two it seemed like and I gave one last prayer to the God up above.   The last thing I saw was his blood-stricken axe come forth upon my head.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

~Cyrus's P.O.V.~   Tap, tap, tap, tap. Went the pads of my fingers as they made the familiar up and down movement of boredom against the wooden bench I was slumped over. I had been left outside all by my lonesome when my dad had finished a few card games with me. I had told him about my plans of going out to hunt this killer that had thought it was right to end the life of a child, one who still had so much more to live for. Those kinds of people always made me sick.   I wondered if that contradicted my love for slasher films. I thought because none of the characters were real, it was okay to find the movies entertaining. That made more sense now.  I found myself sitting up and lazily placing my cheek in the palm of my hand as I lifted up my arm. It was dark outside and I had thoroughly distracted myself for long enough that now I needed to get going. My dad was drunk, so he hadn't really thought much about my little escapade that I was soon to embark on. He had just rambled on about football and how terrible his job as a mechanic was. My family is constantly complaining about something. If it's not my dad you're hearing it from, then you'll definitely hear it from my mom. She's a secretary for a banking company and she has to make presentations for her colleagues and all these other boring things along the lines of being a secretary.   Not only is my dad usually drinking, he's also constantly getting into arguments with mom because he sets her off after she comes home from a bad day. I feel dad just drinks so he doesn't have to feel anymore. He seems to not care anymore either. I wonder what will happen when they both finally snap...   I shook my head and slowly stood up, stretching my arms upwards before slipping them into the pockets of my jacket hoodie. I shouldn't be so focused on family problems I had no use in trying to fix. They would mend into something better one day... I hoped so. Right now, I was supposed to be focused on meeting with Ava and Emily...   And then something suddenly occurred to me.   I had never really mentioned a place that we should meet up at. I just assumed Ava's place would be best because that's where she would find her father's rifle... if she could at all. Oh, and a time was never mentioned either. I facepalmed with frustration towards myself, using my thumb and index finger to smooth out my brow as it tried and failed to furrow. I was scatterbrained at the time and must've not been thinking clearly enough to remember such important details. And I had a feeling I knew who it was that threw me off my train of thought and almost growled out the name.   Mr. Banks. That stupid gun shop owner.   I wondered how he was still doing any business. His main customer was Ava's father and he's been dead 5 years. It was a small town, I knew almost everyone and almost everyone knew me, it was strange that Mr. Banks and I had never really met before today. Ava always had nice things to say about him, along with Emily, but getting to meet the guy in person just... sent unsettling vibes all through me.   Was I the only one that thought there was definitely something off with that guy? He looked like he had smoked in his early days and then dropped down to whiskey. I knew a Dylan Alhiemers when I saw one. Mr. Banks looked just like my dad after a heavy hangover. And that smile... Just thinking about it might as well send shivers down my spine. He didn't seem normal. He tried, but I saw right through that mask of deceit. He was hiding something and whatever it was...   Well, I didn't want to know.   I adjusted my weapon belt that was hooked around my waist. We were hunting a murderer after all, there was nothing wrong with being a little overprepared. Hunting knife in one pocket and slingshot in the other. I could just pick up rocks off the ground if the slingshot ever did come in handy. Then, I reached for my baseball bat that was leaned up against the wooden bench I was previously sitting at. I held the bat on my shoulder and gave out an approving huff.   This idiot felt ready for anything.   I stepped off the deck and walked around the house. Just as long as I didn't tell mom I was going hunting for a murderer, if she even asks, then I would be fine... I mean, that all depends on if the odds work out in my favor and I survive this stupid mission. I stopped near my driveway, saluting to my home in a silent way of wishing myself good luck. Not like I'd miss it that much anyway, or the people inside. I'm sure they could do without me. They practically pretend I don't exist anyway.   With that less than lovely thought processed, I started over on my way to Ava's house. The only reason I remembered Ava's place of residence more than Emily's was because Emily would have me visiting Ava's home more. I never understood why. You would think the rich girl would wanna show off all of her fancy things. I will just have to guess she's modest about her things... whatever "things" they're supposed to be.   The cool, autumn air was slightly getting to me, but I tried to distract myself with some other not exactly important thought. Perhaps nature could find a way to distract me, if only once. I didn't talk about or admire nature as much as Ava and Emily. I'd have to say they are more romantics in that sense.   I was never sure what I liked. I guess I've always found weapons interesting, but then again that doesn't sound all that special. Was I really that unoriginal? Most of the guys I went to school with either talked about video games or some kind of violence. I used to think I differed from them, but it appears not by very much.   This is why girls seem more entertaining nowadays than guys. The ones I hang out with at least don't act like stuck-up little spoiled brats who gossip about whatever they can get their well-polished hands on. Everything is constantly about drama, and if it's not that, then it's the next crush that's not gonna matter 5 years from now.   This must be one of my many reasons for hating high school.   Maybe it's because I'm always profiling people based on stereotypical research. "Be more open to opportunity, Cy. The more you seclude yourself from others, the more likely you'll turn up just like your dad... I prefer you not." My mom's voice rang out in my head upon my revelation for how ironically stereotypical I must've been myself.   I tried to shake that negative thought out of my brain space before it took root, and I dwelled on that for all eternity. I had a habit of doing that to myself.   This led me to my many reasons for enjoying Emily's company. She never allowed me enough time to wallow in my self-loathing. She was positive and joyful, and always told me nice things if I was having a bad day. There were days when I regretted the times I used to tease her before I became one of her best friends. I thought she was naive for thinking everything was a huge ray of sunshine.   I learned quickly that this wasn't the case.   She was happy all the time because if she wasn't she would get very sick. It was literally a necessity for her to feel good she made it sound like. I felt like I had to carry that with her now for being an old source of her problems. The fact she was so easy to forgive me let me know she wasn't one to hold grudges. That she was different.   Then there was Ava. She seemed to not enjoy my presence from the start. I wondered if she could see me for who I really was and didn't like it. It would be a first. Everyone thought I was that jokester that never took anything seriously and... sometimes I wish I was that person.   I liked Ava because she reminded me of myself, which made me also hate her. She was quiet and tense, usually when she was around me, but I would see that when she was with Emily that she was soft and able to open up. I assumed this was because she had known Emily longer than anyone because it never seemed to happen to anyone else, but one day it happened with me.   I had never seen Ava so upset that day either.   Emily was very sick, and Ava was afraid she might never see Emily again, so she told me and cried about it. Thankfully, Emily got better because it was just a short depressive episode from her other loss of a distant family member, but something like that had never happened before for as long as I had known Emily, and the event stayed with me.   Like everything else.   Having to carry all these feelings and experiences never felt like anything to me. Well, not until now of course. Why had I chosen now to reflect on the goods and bads my friends had gone through? Was it because what we were about to endure might have bought all that back to us?   Maybe I just knew subconsciously that something wasn't right about all this.   I was finally allowed a break from my thoughts as I approached Ava's doorstep. I knocked on the door, waiting patiently for someone to come answer the door. Preferably Ava, but her mother would've been just fine too. I rocked back and forth on the heels of my boots, trying to find something to look at to distract my frazzled mind. I was great at distracting myself even if it meant I had to think about things I didn't wish too.   My impatience had grown to its limit after I had decided I no longer wanted to think about my earlier subject, and I opened the door. She wouldn't mind if I came in. "Hello? Anyone home?" I called out into the silent house as I first set foot inside.   There was no response, and I supposed there never would be.   Where was Ava? I first assumed she was in her room, but then again, she would've come down already at the sound of me knocking on the door. Maybe I should be more focused on where her mother was. Remembering what she had been telling me lately with her mother being pregnant and all, she was probably asleep. Scooter was nowhere to be found either.   I made an educated guess while walking to the backdoor that she was outside, but all I found was Scooter scratching at the glass with his paw. I let him inside and he sniffed me with his usual eagerness before bounding up the stairs. I shook my head at him with a smile. He was always quite the silly dog.   I stepped outside, allowing the door to close behind me so Scooter wouldn't get out again and started down the dirt path off the deck. This was the way to Ava's favorite sugar maple. If I could recall correctly, this was one of the few things she spoke fondly of. The creek came into view long after the huge sugar maple did. The tree was what had captivated my gaze more. Its beautiful orange leaves shone on in the moonlight like some kind of symbolic beacon of sorts.   I slide under the branches of the tree, thinking Ava might be hiding behind its big trunk. She was not, to my misfortune, but something else was. Her diary sat atop a closed, rectangular box; pencil left on a closed page. I reached for the diary and read the entry she had put in after laying my baseball bat down against the trunk. Something about how Emily and I had suggested we go on our 'hunt the murderer' escapade.   Look how well that turned out.   I closed the diary and turned my attention to the box it was sitting on. It looked old, like it had been buried under the ground for years. I opened the lid and found nothing but a hidden packet of rifle bullets in the top right corner. So, Ava did find her father's rifle. Why didn't she stay here? I recalled the handwriting in her diary. Quick and sloppy almost. What was she in such a hurry for?   I closed the lid of the box and grabbed my baseball bat. Something here wasn't right. Nothing about today was. Ava was gone and Emily was gone. I knew Emily was gone because she would have come to me if she didn't know what we were doing. I was the one who came up with this bright idea. "Stupid..." I cursed myself in a grumble as I readied myself for what was to come. They must've gone without me and if I had to guess their fates weren't looking too good. That made my grip on my bat tighten. "This was my idea. I put their lives in danger and now I don't know where they are. I don't know if they're okay..." I began to doubt everything.   Maybe... I could still save them if I acted fast.   Without another moment, I started over the creek with a hop. I couldn't waste any more time dwelling on what I had done wrong or what could've happened. I needed to see for myself. I needed to take action. Once over the creek, I banished my thoughts and let the moon be my only companion. I only foresaw one thing.   That this would all be over soon.   The night seemed to grow darker with the further I went into the forest. I wasn't very familiar with the woods, so I only relied on the moon to guide me, but one question remained. Where was I going?   I was moving deeper and deeper into the woods, but I hadn't a clue where I was supposed to be going. I was so tangled up in myself, my thoughts, that I hadn't stopped to think about that. It seemed like I was that way more nowadays. Still, I pushed on because something in me told me that this was the right way. That I would find what I was looking for.   Then, I tripped.   Falling face first into the dirt, I let out an annoyed grunt. Whatever I tripped on, I somehow must've not noticed it despite how hyper-focused I was on what was in front of me. I pushed myself up, reaching for my bat that had rolled out of my hands. I sat up, trying to get a glimpse of what I had tripped over. My eyes squinted as I took in the sight of a dark ball. The moonlight had disappeared behind the clouds for a moment. I poked at it, getting it to roll over before noticing what it was.   As the moonlight came back, there on the ground was the head of my friend Emily.   I felt my mouth drop, but no words ever came out. How... was I supposed to feel now?... Knowing that I failed to save her... Her lips were stitched upwards in a smile and her eyelids were half-way closed. Someone was vile enough to do this to her and then just leave her like this? I couldn't bear to look anymore as sickness finally caught up to me. Has Ava survived? Her head wasn't with Emily's...   I found it in me to stand, but my legs felt weak. Emily was such a precious creature. Seeing her like this now made me ache. I stumbled backwards before turning to look away. She was dead, there was no way I could change that. Now, I just had to find Ava, if she was even still alive either. I stumbled along, dragging my baseball bat along the dirt in a way that signaled my loss of concentration. I couldn't even hold my arms up properly. That's how sick I felt.   I dragged myself all the way along reluctantly until the sound of water was heard. Something other than dreadful silence that seemed to follow my every miserable step. I followed the sound, steering away from my original path and down a short hill. It didn't take me long to notice a large figure hunched over something. It shook in an odd way, almost like it was laughing. I cocked my head to the side, listening to it as I got closer. It sounded like the laugh of a man. He then suddenly jerked himself up as he laughed louder, throwing up something else that seemed to resemble a head in one of his hands.   Guard up and baseball bat at ready, whoever this was, there was no doubt in my mind that he wasn't the murderer I was supposed to be hunting. I stalked closer, listening to his maniac laughter grow louder as he relished in the victory of whoever he just killed. I didn't want to think about who it could be, but it became inherently more clear as I got closer...   That the head he held in his hand was Ava's.   As the man's laughter died out, he now took a moment to listen. He knew I was here, yet he hadn't turned around. I wanted to sneak up on him, but I didn't know if that was going to work now. "I know yer there..." The familiar voice said in a creepy voice. That voice...   Suddenly, the man that voice belonged to turned around to face me with a face splitting smile. Swinging Ava's head in his hand in a mocking sort of way. "This who ya were lookin' for?" Mr. Banks asked in a mocking tone of voice.   Mr. Banks. I knew he was a problem from the start. I knew there was something wrong with him and now he had proved my suspicions correct. He was the murderer I was hunting, he was the one that took the lives of my best friends, and I no longer had any time to dwell on the deaths of my friends that had taken place at the cost of my ridiculous idea...   Now all I saw was RED.   With a war cry I had critiqued to my liking over years of training, finally, I was able to use it. My bat came crashing into the side of Mr. Banks face with an unusual amount of strength. He let out a cry of pain, letting go of Ava's head and being knocked to the floor. I hadn't stopped. Blow after blow hit him, filled with the rage of my regret and the anger of this vile humans' terrible misdoings.   But somehow, he still got up.   He swung at my bat with his axe, the sound of the wood cracking as the metal collided with it tore through the air and made my bat almost useless. I could've gone for the kill and stabbed him right in the stomach with it, but his swiftness was unusual for his size and stature. He knocked the broken bat out of my hands, but even with that gone, I still had come prepared for this situation.   I pulled my switchblade off my belt and went for his face, leaving a deep cut in his left cheek. Although he was beaten and cut, somehow, Mr. Banks seemed to have been moving better with the pain. He swiped me off my feet with his own and had me in the dirt with a 'thump'.   I was about to jump back up and go for his throat next, but I was stopped when Mr. Banks placed his foot on my stomach and pushed down. My breath hitched, but I fought it. I sent my knife into his shoe and through his foot, but even that didn't deter him. "Yer a good fighter, boy. I like that, but I've had enough of ya now. Yer getting in the way." Mr. Banks said calmly, a little bit of tension slipping into his voice.   "Curse your soul!" I spat out with a sputtering breath, trying to get in one last reasoning word that I knew wouldn't work... along with a curse. "God will condemn you for your sins!"   "I know he will." Mr. Banks said, raising his axe above his head and giving me his iconic crazed smile. "But not today."   Then, his axe was sent down upon my head with my final shaking breath.~Michael's P.O.V.~   Panting like a dog was all I could think about once I finally had that boy dead. I knew he was a threat from the first time I laid eyes upon him and that I'd have to take care of him like I did the other two. What a nice fight he put up. He was like Ava but more fierce with the rage that I had ended the lives of those he loved. My foot sat upon his severed head with victory, my face a look of pride.   I had no remorse for what I had done and I never will. The feeling I had was above all else and I could live on cloud nine with it all day. All my threats were taken care of and I was just left with the tremendous feeling of power and tremendous amount of blood staining my hands. Soon they would be orange.   I let out a cry of victory and a laugh of hope. I was going to get away with this too. Just like I had the first. I could keep going if I wanted to, kill until I can't feel my own hands anymore. But, then there would no longer be a thrill to what I do.   So, biding my time would be what I resort to now until that craving, that itching feeling comes back and death once again rears its ugly head. I will play God again like I had done before and no one would have the power to stop me. No one would even live to stop me.   My overconfidence in my ability to get away with this might even get me killed if I can't learn to think properly, but I couldn't help living in this moment of sheer bliss. I felt like I could do anything now, like I could live in this moment forever. In all honesty, all of this would stick with me, because it was so significant. The look in Emily's eyes when she found Jennifer's body displayed like a trophy on the back wall of my shed, the way Ava lost her cool when I told her how her father actually died, the battle cry Cyrus gave as he attacked me. They all were so special and I was the one to take each one of their perfect little lives, even if one thought they were less perfect than the last.   I swiped the blood that leaked from my cheek where Cyrus had cut me. He had hit me in a few good places a dozen times that even I'm surprised I'm not in the place of Cyrus. My back was in so much pain because of that. I'd thank that to my military experience later. Right now, I need to take my prizes. Removing my foot off Cyrus's head, I picked it up in my hands and looked at it. His facial hair was something to be jealous of. I didn't have that when I was fifteen. I could see why Emily had googly eyes for him.   I gave out a light chuckle at the thought as I picked up my axe and swung it over my shoulder. It would need a good cleaning now. Then, I started my scavenger hunt for the heads of Ava and Emily. I remembered where they were, I just had left them be while I did my hunting.   A smile crept across my face, a familiar feeling that seemed to never leave. Hunting season was over, but that itching feeling wasn't. It'd come back and then I'd come back to terrorize the life of another in the distant future, although I hoped it wouldn't be that distant. Now all that was left was the sound of the leaves crunching under my feet and the soft light of the moon shining down through the trees. All was calm and all was at peace...   But it wouldn't be that way forever.