Vicky Genocidal: In Depth

Chapter Three: Lost Innocence

She leaned back, allowing her legs to kick out in front of her. Her hands tightly gripped the chains holding the swing in place, straining to keep balanced.

"Cut it out!" She heard a familiar voice as she was pushed back upright by her friend. "Please, take this seriously!" she scolded.

She chuckled, looking over her shoulder at her friend. "Sorry, Hannah. What were you saying?"

The blonde shook her head, walking around the swing. "We were talking about the new kids." She exclaimed, leaning against the swing set's metal frame. "I mean, that Jeff kid really creeps me out. He keeps looking at me!"

"Oh, come on, Hannah." The girl on the swings heard another voice as a familiar brunette came into her vision. "He's probably just awkward. I mean, it can't be easy to adjust to a new school. You, of all people, should understand that."

"That's completely different, Jane!" Hannah cried, gently whacking the girl's arm. "I didn't stare at people like a freaking creep when I got here. I also didn't start a fight with Randy Hayward!"

"Well, can you blame him? I'd be kind of pissed if some random brats demanded money from me." The girl on the swings started fiddling with a rogue strand of hair that had fallen over her face. "Especially if I was new in town."

"Exactly," Jane agreed, gesturing to the girl with a nod. "What's the big deal anyway, Hannah?"

"I just don't like him." She replied, folding her arms.

The girl on the swings snickered, hopping to her feet. "What's the matter, Hannah? Are you afraid that the scrawny new boy is some creepy monster?"

She wiggled her fingers at her friend, snickering. Hannah giggled, jogging away from her.

"No!" She cried playfully as her companion began chasing her.

The air soon lightened with laughter. Jane watched the pair, cackling at their antics. The mood was light. Happy, blissful even.

However, the laughter soon faded, and was replaced with screaming.

Oh, God. It was horrible.

She screamed. She couldn't stop screaming as she watched. As she was forced to watch him kill her father. He killed Jane's parents. He hurt Jane.

She continued to scream as he approached her, knife in hand. She desperately struggled to free herself as he grabbed her by the front of her shirt, bringing her closer to his God-awful face. His skin was completely white, with a leathery texture. He didn't break eye contact with the girl. She could still remember the exact shade of blue that tinted his irises, glowing with bloodlust. The most horrifying thing, however, was his smile. He had carved his mouth open. The corners were carved up into a twisted, bloodied smile.

"Let me go!" She screamed, kicking at him as she tried to distance herself from his face. Jane cried out for the girl, but she couldn't focus on Jane's words. She just wanted to get away from his face. She just wanted to go home. She wanted to hide under her covers and pretend like this was all some bad dream. It was then that she had started crying. "Just let me go home!"

"Someone needs to remember." The boy growled in a low, scratchy voice. He then dragged her to the front door, tossing her out of the house like a ragdoll.

The girl yelped as her back hit the ground roughly, causing her to fall into a daze. She could do nothing but helplessly watch as he knelt down, hovering above her.

He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, almost reassuringly, if not for the horrific scene in the house behind him.

"Shh," He purred, slowly raising his knife above his head, butt end first. "Just go to sleep, Vicky."

Then, he brought his knife's handle down on her head, causing the world before her to fade to black.

Victoria watched as the milk swirled around in her coffee, turning the once dark liquid into a soft, creamy shade. She took a sip before turning back to her school bag. She stuffed her biology homework into the bag, not caring if it got crumpled by her hefty schoolbooks. She knew all the answers on the pages were correct, so the paper's state didn't matter, as long as it got her a good grade. Victoria stifled a yawn by taking another sip of her coffee.

After her school bag was filled, Victoria ran back up the stairs to her bedroom. Sliding her nightstand drawer open, she pulled out a small rectangular device. A pocketknife. She had found the knife when she and her aunt were cleaning out her dad's old room and held on to it. She didn't know why, but Victoria had begun sneaking the knife to school. It had helped her feel safer. More powerful. Like no matter what happened, she would have a way to defend herself.

As she slipped the small knife into her pocket, Victoria squeezed it. She closed her eyes, telling herself the daily affirmations she had been working on.

'You've got this. Just get in there, get your work done, and go home. If someone bothers you, ignore them. Highschool is temporary. Just get to college.' As Victoria finished her affirmations, she marched back down the stairs.

"I'm headed out, Marge!" She yelled to her aunt.

"Okay, have fun!" Marge called out cheerfully, offering her niece a smile. "Make some friends, alright?"

"Sure." Victoria called back sarcastically as she closed the front door. She then turned away from the solitude of her home. Victoria took a deep breath and began her daily march to one of the worst places that the sole survivor of a tragedy could think of.

Mandeville's local High School.