Scream

Enzo King

I flick on the TV in my room, which is next to Reyna's room. Reyna, who is in the hospital. 

"Eighteen-year-old Oscar Alvarez was arrested late last night – charged with the murder of a would-be fellow classmate, Hanzo Duvall..." I smirk and admire myself. Framing Oscar was so easy. Chloroform the guy, drag him to the room and use his hands to choke Hanzo after he died. It almost isn't fair how simply this comes to me, or how simply I can get away with it. The Type was kind enough to override the security cameras for an hour to totally cover my trail. I chose to frame Ozzy because the kid re-broke his arm to talk to Reyna and Aero...what a freak.

I killed Della because she grew into an adult too soon.

I killed Hanzo because he was too good and noble.

My phone buzzes.

Type: Going after Hanzo? A little too easy of a target, don't you think?

You: He fit my motive.

Type: Kill another by next week, or else.

You: Or else what?

Type: You know.

I throw my head against the bed rest, frustrated. I just did such a good job and I only have a week to outdo myself. And on such short notice... 

 I agreed to go back on Type's side because he came to me one day. To my home, actually. He beat up my dad. He said if I didn't help him finish what he started, that he would go after the one I love most. I laughed at him. My dad is a lousy one, and my mom is a gold digger. So what if they get hurt? It's not my problem. Aero's the sensitive one. 

Anyways, Type laughed right back at me through his unidentified number. "We both know that family means shit to you, my boy. Reyna, on the other hand..." I didn't have a mouthy comeback for that. If I pissed him off, then he'd snap her neck with the flick of a finger – or decapitate her as he did to Della's mom. 

So I responded with, "What makes you think I give a rat's ass about some high schooler?"

"You don't fool me, Enzo. I saw you a week after the lockdown."

"So?" I retorted.

"I saw you a week after the lockdown...in a jeweller store. We both know what that means."

"Okay, so what do you want?" I grumbled.

"You kill when I say you do. You torture when I say you do. You'll be a dog on a leash tome. And if you disobey as you did with letting Makai go, I swear to God I'll cut your girlfriend from end to end and decorate her with her own insides. Is that what you want?" 

 I didn't say anything once I heard his threat. I'm not used to being vulnerable. The rolls are always switched. I'm the one who knows people's weaknesses and kryptonite. I'm the one who makes threats and uses people for my own benefit. Is all of this trouble really worth it for a girl? 

Duh, I thought to myself. It's Reyna.

"Do we have a deal, Enzo?"

"You touch a hair on her head and you're dead," I growled.

"Deal. I won't touch her," he insisted with a laugh before hanging up. I didn't understand what that meant until Oscar called and said she was in the hospital. Typedidn't touch her. Someone else did. Type's the mastermind, and I'm the manipulated manipulator...so who's the other guy?

"Forget about it, Enzo," I sigh to myself. "You've got a death to the plot."

As I sit down to begin plotting, my phone rings.

PHONE CALL FROM: SPECIALTY GEMS 

"Hello?" I ask.

"Hi, is this Enzo King?"

Clearing my throat, I sit up a bit taller. I'm Enzo King, master of everything I do. Why am I stressing about Type and some other mystery accomplice? This'll be over soon and I'll be fine. "Yes, this is." 

"Hi," the overly-cheery clerk greets. "We received a new batch of engagement rings thismorning. Just calling to let you know."

 "Oh..." I glance at the notepad on my nightstand and pen. The first few pages are ring companies and phone numbers. After that...well, it gets ugly. So, do I set aside the requests of the psycho of all psychos, or do I check out the new rings? 

 "Thanks," I gratify finally. "I'll check them out later today." 

 "Alrighty. My name is Evelin Lynch if you need any help." 

 "Sounds good, Ev," I chime. "Bye." 

 "Have a nice day." 

 The phone clicks at the sound of the call ending. Butterflies flood my stomach as I imagine my future. Reyna will be fine. I'll propose when this is all over. If I'm right about my feelings, then she'll say yes. Then we can ditch this dinky town and go somewhere that doesn't inhibit more than one psychopath...I'm the only one allowed to exist within a 200-mile radius. 

I grab my keys. I'll stop by and see Reyna, then I'll head to the jewellery store.

 I pass through the living room, where Mr Copulas stares blankly at a TV...a TV that isn't even on. The man is losing it. Next to him, there's a bottle of whiskey. But being an alcoholic doesn't justify the emptiness in his eyes. Drugs on the other hand... 

 "I'm going to check on Reyna," I notify. "Want to come with?" 

 "Piss off," he growls. 

 "Dick," I sigh under my breath. I exit the house and slam the door shut. On my car window, there's a picture. To be exact, there's a picture on the window of me, mask-less, choking out Hanzo. Under it, there's a text written in bold Sharpie.

I know what you did.

"Last summer," I mutter to myself. "I Know What You Did...Last Summer." Though I joke about the note, I find it rattling. The cameras were shut down and Reyna was asleep. 

So how did someone get an aerial shot of me being a psychopath? 

 I take out a lighter; one I used back in my smoking days. I bring the flame to the picture. I watch as the picture burns layer by layer, papery material curling into ash; fire consuming the images and erasing the Sharpie. Dropping the remains on the ground, I smash them with my shoe, destroying any trace of my existence in SH last night. 

 No one can know. 

 At least...not Reyna