Kill and Make Up

Chapter 1: Eleanor

"Hey, does this dress look okay? Or do I seem like I'm maybe trying too hard?" I ask my brother, who's just sprawled out on the living room couch.

"You have a mirror right there. Do you really have to ask me?" Brad whines, gesturing in the general direction of the bathroom.

"Come on, don't be an idiot sometimes and answer the damn question!" I grab for the remote and turn off the football match he was watching.

"Hey! Fine! I surrender, the dress looks fine, just give me back that remote!"

Just for his previous rudeness I decide to in fact not give him the remote. "Say the magic word!" I sing-song and hold up the remote just out of his reach.

"Fine," He gives a dramatic sigh, "Please give me the remote."

I do so and go back to my room to make some final adjustments to my ensemble. That moron never gives any good advice and I regret my earlier decision to ask him anything in the first place. These nerves are getting to me big-time.

Since Brad could've just been saying that the dress is fine to get rid of me, I decide to change into something else.

I pick out a beige fitted knitted sweater, a pair of black leggings, and some basic black flats. To accessorize (and make sure I don't look like I'm not trying at all) I put on some cute golden snake earrings and a matching necklace.

Finally, I seem at least halfway ready to go. Hopefully the confidence part of it will come later.

So she's either late or she stood me up. I knew it was too good to be true. That stupid website. Argh, I shouldn't blame the site, what kind of idiot am I? To think that someone would actually want to go on a flipping date with me. Just as I am ready to turn around and leave my phone dings.

- Sry im late! Omw -

I let out a relieved sign and find us a table. Soon enough, she walked in. We've video chatted before, and I've seen her profile picture and all. And yet, in person she seemed so much more different. Good different of course.

"Hey, sorry I'm late I had something I had to do real quick," she quickly said.

"Ye-yeah no, it's okay!" Gah, I've got to pull my act together. "I just got here anyways. My brother was being an ass about my outfit," Why are words so much easier on paper than in real-life dialogue?

"Awesome, thanks. And don't worry about that, you look great. So... do you want to go get something?" She, Alex, asks.

"Oh, um, yeah! Let's go!"

We walk over to the counter and the barista gives us a polite smile. "Good afternoon, what will you be having?"

"I'll just be getting a small Americano. And this fine lady shall be having-" Alex looks at me expectantly.

"A chocolate frap, also small, thank you!" I reach for my wallet but Alex pays for both of us before I even get the chance to take it out of my bag. We make our way to the line, and Alex pulls out a set of notecards. "What are those for?"

"I, uh, I searched up some small-talk questions to ask on a first date. I didn't want to have any awkward silence moments," she looks away, blushing a bit. I blush too. It's so sweet of her, and it makes things much easier too.

"Oh! What's the first question?" I ask, with hopefully a polite interest.

"'What do you do on your free time?' I suppose I'll go first. I enjoy drawing and watching shows about true crime. How about you?"

"No way! I love true crime shows! Did you see that one documentary about the guy who was killed by removing his brain through his nose?" Oh goodness... I definitely seem weird.

"Fairly sure the tactic was based on ancient Egyptian mummification rituals, but yeah. That was a seriously epic one."

"Yeah! I tend to take notes for my murder mystery novel... definitely using that one," Gah, pull it together.

"You write? That is so awesome! I love reading murder mysteries. And, you know, judging the murderer and their mistakes," Alex's eyes widen a bit and she pauses in the middle of the sentence, probably remembered something.

No way. Do I actually have something in common with this amazing person? That's definitely a first. "Yeah! I'm only a third done, research for which murder tacticts would work takes forever."

"What do you think would be your favorite way to kill someone?" she asks as her name gets called for us to pick up our drinks.

"Well, I'd say that poison is nice and classy. However, I enjoy writing more gore-y stuff so maybe cutting someone's tongue and making them die choking on their own blood?" Well, there goes my date...

"That is absolutely brutal," we get back to our table she takes a sip of her drink, "I love it." I cannot be this lucky. She doesn't think I'm a weird maniac? That's probably a first. Even Brad thinks my obsession with bloody murder is disturbing, although he has given me plenty of "I swear I'm a writer and not a serial killer" related merchandise.

"Really?" I ask.

"Heck yeah," she looks down at her phone, "Damn it. Hey, I gotta go now, but call me later, okay?"

"Oh, uh, yeah! I will! And if you have any good true crime shows to recommend let me know!"

"Will do."

"Hey, Brad, I'm home!" I call as I slip off my shoes and lock the door. Something smells weird, he was probably trying to cook up some meat for dinner. "Brad? What, are you trying to scare me or something? You know I hate when you try to startle me."

I check to see if he's in the kitchen. Not only is he not there, but there isn't any sign of him cooking anything either. So that doesn't explain the strong smell that reminds me of the meat section at the grocery store.

Since he is not in the kitchen, I go to knock on the bathroom door, but it's open and the bathroom itself is empty.

"Brad, this is seriously not funny! Don't you think you're too old for pranks?" I go to his room and open the door, "Brad-".

I scream. I slam the door back and back away. I pull out my phone and do my best to stop my hands from shaking and dial 911. Because on the floor was Brad, his face and clothing covered in blood.