The Calling of Whitechapel | MBSAV Fanfiction

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

As I near the girls' locker room, I can hear the sound of running water and the occasional clatter of metal as someone retrieves their belongings. The door to the locker room is propped open, allowing a glimpse inside where a few girls are chatting. I enter, following the others as they all change.

"Oh, my god!" One of them groans. "Did you see the photos Margret posted last night? The party looked so fun and she was allowed to skip today. Ugh, I wish I was her." A collection of them gather around the girl's phone, as they all gasp and gawk at the Facebook account.

"I heard it was incredible. Pulled out his strongest stash of drinks," one notes.

"Yeah! And did you see her new dress? It is totally to die for," speaks another, pointing her red claw at the phone.

"Say. I tried on a dress almost identically to that one last week. You said it was disgusting."

"Whatever, Caroline. You're not as thin as Margret," her friend insults. I decide to move away from the group, wandering to the quieter back of the locker room. I toss my bag next to a silvery blonde girl, but her stare makes it clear that my presence is unwelcome. She exchanges a few glances with her friend before getting up and relocating. I swiftly remove my jeans, opting for more comfortable black sports shorts. Slipping into a light blue school shirt, I tie my sneakers and prepare to leave. I take in a deep breath, the overpowering scent of Victoria's Secret Bombshell hits me, to cover the stench of body odour. With a sigh, I gather my hair and attempt to whip it into a ponytail, only to realise I've forgotten a hair tie.

"Hey," I walk up to a girl. "Do you have a hair tie I could borrow?"

"What? No." She states. I look down at the pink scrunchie on her wrist.

"I just thought since you have a bob, you wouldn't need that. I won't wreck it. I promise."

"My scrunchie? You want my—my..." Tears welled in her eyes, her voice choked with emotion. "I couldn't even say goodbye. The last thing I told her was that I hated being her friend," she hiccuped, struggling to speak through her sobs. Her words pierced the air, drawing the attention of everyone in the locker room. She continued, her voice now a wail of grief, "She was murdered by a horrible beast, her body mutilated and left to die. No one could even hear her scream, or cry for help. I wish I had been there. I wish I could've told her I was still her friend, always."

Her confession hung in the air, and for a moment, the room was silent, filled only with the sound of her weeping. I glanced around, meeting the eyes of the onlookers, each wearing a mix of sympathy and discomfort. The silvery blonde girl narrowed her icy eyes, watching me closely, as if waiting to see how I would react.

"Jesus, you insufferable freak," a girl suddenly snapped, pointing a red-nailed finger at the crying girl. "Can you not see that she's mourning the loss of a dear friend?"

"Fuck off, Vanessa. She clearly didn't know anything," the blond girl speaks up, standing up and crossing her arms intimidatingly. The girl beside her also rises, her hands clenched into fists, ready to provide backup.

"Eat shit and die, Millie," Vanessa snarls, her voice dripping with venom as she bares her claws, ready to attack. "We all know you're thinking the same thing. Was it yesterday in class you said it should've killed one of the new students? People would be less upset then." My throat goes dry as I feel a wave of deep blue hues wash over my mind. The memories flood back—the growling, the scent of death, the overwhelming feeling of fear. Why do you keep coming back to me? "Come on, Caroline, Lydia. Let's get to the field before she decides to come after us too." The three girls stride away, their footsteps echoing in the now-empty locker room. I stand there for a moment, listening to their muffled comments about my appearance and attitude. Millie collects her water bottle, and her friend tucks a feather necklace under her shirt.