Angel of Death

8

Coraline Chambers

"Hey, I'm gonna go hangout with the boys. You gonna be okay?" Harry asked Cory as she sat up, rubbing her eyes.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Go, have fun." She told him, kissing him as he stood up. "Okay, I love you." He called out as he walked down the stairs holding his car keys. "I love you!" She yelled back.

She laid back down and smiled as she stared up at the ceiling.

A few weeks had passed since Cassandra Pressman was shot, and New Ham was slowly healing.

She got up and took a shower, taking her time to get ready before going to work.

"Yeah, but I mean, even if they did figure out who did it, it's not like they're gonna do anything about it, right?" Dewey asked Harry, trailing his hand across the counter.

"Hmm, yeah. Maybe they should. I mean, I don't love some unhinged weirdo running around... shooting people. Especially when my girlfriend tends to help out a lot around the town." Harry shrugged, making his coffee.

Dewey shifted on his feet, pondering on his thoughts.

"How are they a weirdo?" Dewey asked him, shaking his head.

"Because... he fucking shot someone." Harry chuckled, looking over at Dewey.

Dewey stood up straight, "Well, not just someone, right? I mean, it's Cassandra." He smiled, "I mean the way I look at it, they did us a favor." He scoffed. "They're a hero." He added.

Harry looked confused, "How the fuck are they a hero?" He asked him, looking up at him. Dewey moved closer, whispering. "Cassandra was the problem, right?" Dewey chuckled, "Said we were the enemy. Someone had to teach that cunt who's boss." He lowered his voice. Harry looked at the boy as if he was insane, which, he was.

" I finally got you some peace and quiet like you wanted." Dewey added. Harry's breathing turned heavy. "The least I could get is a thank you." He chuckled.

Harry backed up and shook his head. He walked down the stairs, away from the psychopath.

As Cory was headed downstairs, Harry walked in, pale, shaky, scared.

"What? What's wrong? Are you okay?" She asked him, walking over quickly as he leaned against the door.

"Dewey did it." He said, looking down. "Did what?" Cory asked him as he slowly looked up at her. "I think... Dewey killed Cassandra." He spoke, quietly at the end.

Cory backed up slowly, almost tripping as she sat on the staircase, confused.

"What are you talking about? W-Why would you think that?" She asked him. "Cause he just fucking told me." Harry scoffed. He put his hand in his hair, pulling on it. "Dewey, he basically confessed that he... shot Cassandra." He sighed, pacing around.

Cory was confused, so confused.

"Who the fuck is Dewey?" She snapped, standing up in front of him. "The short, pale kid with orange hair." He explained. She wracked her brain for a memory of him but none came up.

"Greg Dewey, Sloane. Greg Dewey." He told her, rubbing his neck. "W-Why the hell would he want to kill Cassandra? If I didn't know him, why would she?" She asked him, holding onto his arm.

Harry threw his arms up and sighed, looking to the ground.

As he looked up, he had a worried look on his face. "Who knows? Kid's... fucked up. He's fucking batshit." Harry told her as he pulled his arm away and pushed his hair away from his forehead.