Mostly Dead Girls

meanwhile,

A few states away and a fair bit further underground, Kelly Mars picked her way through a damp tunnel.

Kelly Mars was, officially, a survivor. A 'final', as some circles referred to them. Alternatively a 'dangerous bitch' or a 'drama queen'. People whispered about how, exactly, she had managed to survive the Cameo Club murders. How she and Mickey had both conveniently survived. They whispered about all the girls, though, even the ones who had never met their opponent-killers before, so Kelly's case didn't stand out much. As she'd planned. In her case, the whispers had a foundation.

But all that was in the past, and unimportant. The Cameo Club murders were old news. Right now, Kelly was looking for her boyfriend, and was on her way to talk to the last person who'd seen him. She stopped in her tracks as a shadow wound its way across the beam of her flashlight.

"Hi," she said. "Name's Kelly Mars. Cameo Club?"

The shadow stood up, grew pale and fleshy. The dead girl just outside of her flashlight beam stared, eyes glittering.

"You're a final girl," she said, her voice echoing dully off the stone walls. "But you're not with Safehouse. Why are you here?"

"You must be new." Kelly flipped the flashlight over in her grip, pointing it at the floor. "Go get Momoka and tell her Kelly's here. I'm Mickey Wyatt's girlfriend, and the last thing he told me before he disappeared was that she'd asked a favor from him."