VIRULENCE | H.S |

~ 26 • H ~

Chapter Twenty Six - Harry's POV

The dirty white vans I wore last night are completely ruined as I continue to walk through the dew-covered sand towards the darkened tunnel.

I'm glad I brought a pair of extra shoes last night, and I nod to myself for changing into white shoes, as opposed to the blood-soaked, black ones I had originally had on, while I was executing my revenge on Elton.

Changing into the 'white' shoes was just another part of my alibi to make it seem like Elton's death had nothing to do with me last night.

I mean, who can kill a person in white shoes?

It's the little things.

My other shoes are at the bottom of the fire pit, in a pile of deteriorating ash, along with any other incriminating evidence.

Evidence had to be meticulously covered up.

Because, well...someone found the body.

It didn't happen as quickly as I had assumed it would, since the sun is now slowly rising along the water as I continue to walk along the beach. No, the body wasn't discovered, or wasn't even mentioned, until just a few minutes ago, when I was woken up by Catherine shaking me and a girl screaming right over my face.

It was an utterly horrific way to wake up.

This ultimately means Elton's body had been out over the sharp rocks the entire night. Which, I really did not expect.

I figured that by moving the party down to the beach, more people would go up to the cliffs, and try to look down at the bottom. There's something about looking down below when a person has conquered the top of a tall height, that exudes an adrenaline rush for many people, and mixing that with alcohol and drugs usually just makes the chase to achieve that rush all the merrier.

But, to my knowledge, that didn't happen.

Maybe I underestimated the balls that some of these students have. Fucking pussies.

This actually works better in our favor though, as a body in cold water always will mess with the medical coroner when trying to investigate the exact time of death. Which is a plus for us.

Not only does it allow for problems comprehending the time of death, but it also can allow for the coroner to run into problems when looking at wounds, as well. This is why my father told me to move the body to the water in the first place, especially after I told him I impaled Elton with the sword he donated.

He laughed, but his anger is always far-fetched. I'm sure I'll get a solid punishment when I see him next for that one.

What was the most important piece, however, was to thoroughly cover every lane possible to avoid any repercussions being brought to us, or even any suspicions that this was more than a suicide. Which has proved extremely difficult to do, especially with the short amount of time we had to cover this crime up.

Though we worked hard to meticulously send the text message to Elton's parents within minutes of us throwing him over the cliff, he did die at least forty-five minutes before we actually threw him over the edge of the cliff, and though it is a short time interval in the long run, when a person investigates a murder, or even a suicide, every detail matters.

I just hope that doesn't come to bite us in the ass.

The anxiety filters through my body as I look down at my shaky and clammy hands, and I know I need a fix of coke soon, or I'll probably have a panic attack.