Lies In The Dark

Nothing Good Happens at a Murder Scene

Poppy

Emma had finally peeled herself off my side, and I couldn't lie—I was relieved. I love her to death, but she was practically glued to me, and I could see the tension tearing her apart. We were all on edge after last night, but with Emma... it was something more. She was teetering on the brink of something I couldn't wrap my head around, something darker, something that scared the hell out of me.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, dragging me out of my swirling thoughts. I pulled it out, expecting a dumb meme or a pointless update in the group chat. But then Emma's name flashed across the screen, and my heart stuttered.

Emma: I know who the killer is.

What the fuck? My stomach twisted, and I blinked at the message, disbelief tightening my chest. What did she mean she knew? How could she know and not have told the rest of us? My mind spiralled with questions, but before I could even start typing a response, I heard it.

A scream.

Sharp. Terrifying. It sliced through the mansion like a goddamn knife, echoing off the walls. The kind of scream that shoots ice down your spine, makes your skin crawl, and your blood run cold.

It was Emma. I knew it. I fucking knew it.

"Shit!" I shouted, panic exploding in my chest as I tore down the hallway, feet slamming against the floor. My heart pounded like a drum, adrenaline racing through my veins like fire. "Emma!"

I could hear footsteps behind me—someone else running, too—but I didn't give a damn. My best friend was screaming, and that text... that fucking text.

I whipped around a corner, and time seemed to stop.

Emma lay crumpled on the floor, blood spreading around her like some gruesome halo, an iron rod speared straight through her side.

"Fuck! No!" I screamed, practically sliding on the floor as I dropped to my knees beside her. My hands hovered over her, shaking, not knowing what the hell to do. My brain refused to process it. "Emma... oh my god, no."

I pressed my fingers to her neck, desperate to find a pulse. It was weak—so fucking weak—but it was there. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, broken breaths. She was alive.

Barely.

"Stay with me, Emma," I whispered, my voice cracking, tears blurring my vision as I fought to keep it together. "Fuck, don't you dare leave me. Stay with me." I whipped my head around, screaming for help. "GUYS! SOMEONE GET THE FUCK IN HERE!"

The sound of footsteps echoed down the hall, and soon the others burst into the room. Poppy, Mel, Miri, Zyran, Tessa, and Maya all froze like statues when they saw Emma, her body limp, blood everywhere.

"Oh my god," Mel gasped, her voice barely above a whisper, her hand flying to her mouth. "What the fuck happened?"

"I don't fucking know!" I choked out, my voice trembling. "She messaged me, said she knew who the killer was. Then she screamed, and I fucking found her like this."

"Holy shit," Zyran cursed under his breath, pacing frantically, running his hands through his hair. "This is so fucked. This is so fucking messed up. What the hell do we even do?"

"We have to get her to a hospital," I said, my voice rising, frantic and desperate. My hands were still shaking as I clutched Emma's. "We can't just fucking sit here and do nothing!"

"She's right," Tessa said, her voice steady, but I could see the fear in her eyes as she knelt beside me. "We need to move her, but we can't pull that thing out. It'll make it worse."