No Body, No Crime

Chapter One - I Spy A Guilty Boy

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has been loving this so far, you guys are the best!! Your comments literally make my entire day! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this

"...And the most haunting detail of this case, is that the Zodiac Killer is still yet to be identified." I finished my presentation with an awkward bow as the classroom erupted with forced cheers. I met my teacher's eyes as I made my way back to my seat and saw him scowl. He must be annoyed that I found another way to relate an assignment back to a serial killer, but it's not my fault I have true crime on my mind.

Ever since Halloween six months ago, when I was quite rudely awakened by police sirens at the early hour of 5 a.m, my true crime obsession has come racing back. I kept my eye on Bill Denbrough throughout my presentation, waiting for a sign that he was quaking in his boots (or muddy white sneakers). A presentation about innocent people being murdered by a killer that's yet to be identified should have grabbed his interest, especially since it's exactly what happened to his girlfriend, but he seemed more interested in staring at my shoes.

Suspicious behavior if you ask me.

Thankfully my sanity was saved when the final bell went off, interrupting Mr. Thatcher's spiel about something historical that I wasn't paying attention to. As I quickly shoved my history book into my bag, something in the front of the room caught my eye. Right before my eyes, Bill Denbrough glanced awfully suspiciously at the clock and took off in a mad dash out of the room. I threw my bag over my shoulder, not wasting time to make sure it was zipped, and dashed out of the room after him. What could be so urgent at 3 p.m on a Friday afternoon?

You're probably thinking to yourself, Stanley was sooooo fast and was definitely able to catch up with Bill to confront him in a super manly way. Unfortunately, I must disappoint you. I was indeed, quite fast, but Rich the Bitch intercepted me in the hall and made me lose my chase.

"Woah, Woah, Stanno," Richie called, throwing his arm around my shoulders to slow me down. "Where are you off to in such a rush?"

I rolled my eyes and pulled away from him. "Nowhere, thanks to you, jackass."

"No need for such cruel and unpleasant names, Stannie."

"I'm kind of in a hurry," I said. I contemplated running out the door to try and catch Bill, but there was no way I could pull that off without Richie asking questions.

"Off to your boyfriend's house?" Richie asked, fidgeting with his glasses that were much too big for his face.

"What?" I asked, turning to look at him, completely flabbergasted.

"Oh don't think I didn't see who you were chasing, Stan," Richie cooed, shaking my arm enthusiastically. "Are you on speaking terms with Big Bill again?"

"No."

"Then why were you chasing him like a love sick puppy?"

"Remember Beverly Marsh?" I asked. Richie's face paled to the shade of a piece of paper.

"'Course I do," Richie said. "You don't just forget about a girl who was murdered by an unnamed psychopath."

"I'm going to find out who that psychopath is."

"Woah there Stanley," Richie said, glancing around the hall to see who could be listening to us. "I know you're, like, a true crime enthusiast or whatever, but not even the professionals could figure out what happened to Bev. Everyone's already come to terms with what happened, and they're not going to be too fond of you digging up the past again."

"Bill Denbrough killed Beverly Marsh." I announced, perhaps a bit too loudly.

Everyone in the hall around me gasped and started whispering to their friends. Richie slammed his hand across my mouth and pulled me out the front exit before anyone could approach us.