ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʏ ║ ꜱᴛɪʟᴇꜱ ꜱᴛɪʟɪɴꜱᴋɪ

00. ᴘʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ

Two months prior

SHE WORE BLUE on the night she died. 

Charlotte Eliopoulos's cold fingers grasped the rusted scissors, snipping away at her frizzy blonde hair as it dropped to the floor. It was two in the morning, and her faded navy shirt was the only splotch of color in the bathroom of Eichen House.

The usually locked door to her room had swung open not long before, and Charlie didn't waste time to steal a rare moment of freedom. The old arts and crafts scissors now gave her a messy haircut, the dim yellow light flickering.

A hollow sounding noise echoed out of nowhere against the tile floor. Then another, identical. Like thick water dripping onto the ground. It came from behind her. Charlie stood and turned, rising to her full height.

Drops of dark, dark blood fell consecutively from the ceiling to the bathroom floor. The red pooled, making a puddle on the dingy tile.

Then she heard a scream of wretched pain in a voice she knew. Charlie dropped the scissors and threw open the bathroom door before she could think, sprinting down the hallway.

"Nathan- Nate!" She screamed raggedly. Every part of her was terrified to find what lay ahead. What could have possibly turned his magnetic voice into something so tortured?

She skidded around the corner to see a nightmare unfolding its horrible wings. Nathan, her best friend, lay sprawled in agony. Blood seeped out of deep wounds in his neck and chest. He writhed on the cold cement before going still, petrified of the woman-thing standing over him. 

Her black leathery wings beat once, twice, before falling into deathly stillness. Her hair writhed, the strands wipping around the sides of her face like snakes. Everything about her was dark. Her empty pits of black eyes found Charlie's terrified brown ones for a terrible moment, and then the woman was gone.

Gone too was the image of blood pouring out of the vents, but Nathan was still right there. His blood was pooling around him and he was silent.

Charlie dropped to her knees, shaky arms reaching out to cradle his tall frame.

"Nathan? Nate, look at me it's gonna be okay. It'll be fine, I promise. Just keep your eyes open-" a sob racked her body. His eyes were glazed and she knew he was already gone. But she couldn't feel it yet, couldn't bring herself to comprehend that horrifying reality. "Nathan! Keep your eyes open, you're going to be okay."

She yelled it at him, kept on pleading. The guards found her like that. Charlie, kneeling in a pool of blood, holding her best friend. Screaming at a dead boy to live.

But in her twisting, shattering mind she knew something. As they dragged her away and questioned her, she knew.

That killer wasn't just a demon to Charlie. It was family. Her blood had been mixed in with that of the monster pouring down the vents in the walls

Charlie knew that creature didn't come to kill Nathan Ewell, but to kill her by making her watch, helpless to the rage that was building. So when her father came to check on her, and when she threw away the navy shirt holding her last piece of Nate, it wasn't their Charlotte or Lottie left standing there.

Because Charlotte Eliopoulos died that night, drenched in shades of blue stained red. 

SOME PEOPLE STAY