The Devil In Disguise

Tensions and Threats

The quiet hum of conversation filled the room as Gianina, Mary, and Rufus gathered around, setting up a makeshift first-aid station on Gianina's broken coffee table. Marcus and Cal sat opposite each other, still simmering with residual tension but keeping silent. Their cuts and bruises from the fight needed tending, and Gianina had taken on the role of peacemaker, guiding them to sit while the others retrieved ice packs and antiseptic.

Mary placed a gentle hand on Cal's shoulder, pressing a cool compress against his bruised cheek. "You really went at it," she murmured, glancing between him and Marcus with a mix of concern and exasperation. "Can't say I understand what got into you both."

Cal looked away, jaw clenched, his silence filled with something simmering just below the surface.

Marcus shot him a brief glance, his face tight with guilt as he held an ice pack to his own swollen knuckles. "It was stupid," he muttered. "I didn't mean for it to get out of hand."

Gianina leaned closer, her gaze soft and steady as she dabbed at a cut above his eyebrow with a cotton ball soaked in antiseptic. "I think we've all had enough bruises and broken friendships lately," she said quietly, giving him a small smile. "Let's not add to it."

Marcus nodded, wincing as she gently pressed the cotton ball against the wound. "Agreed."

As they continued tending to the injuries, Gianina's phone buzzed in her pocket. She ignored it at first, focused on calming the atmosphere in the room, but the buzzing persisted. She discreetly pulled it out, glancing down to see another anonymous message lighting up her screen:

Did you enjoy breaking up the fight, GG? You should have let them finish it.

The words sent a shiver down her spine. She glanced around the room, her heartbeat quickening as she slipped the phone closer to her, making sure no one noticed her reaction. She forced a smile, hoping to mask her unease as she tapped out a reply.

What are you talking about?

Almost instantly, the reply came:

You don't get it, do you? Both boys are in love with you. Why get in the way? Let them kill each other, GG. Then you won't have to choose.

Gianina blinked, momentarily thrown by the suggestion. The idea of Cal and Marcus fighting over her was ridiculous—she'd known Cal for ages, and he was her friend. He'd been dating Jordan, her best friend, before her death, and she hadn't seen him that way. This idea of rivalry was absurd.

You're wrong, she replied firmly. Cal is just my friend. He loved Jordan, not me. I'm in love with Marcus.

The answer came swiftly, a chilling warning:

You don't get to decide between either of them. You're mine, GG. Marcus won't be a problem for much longer and neither will Cal.

A cold shiver spread through her as she stared at the words. She'd thought the killer's obsession was some twisted game, a way to toy with her, but now his intentions felt darker, more personal. Her stomach twisted with fear, but she knew she had to stay calm, not let him see that he was getting to her.

She typed quickly, her hands trembling slightly.

Leave him alone. I'm not yours, and I never will be.

There was no immediate reply, just an oppressive silence that seemed to settle over her like a cloud. She slipped the phone back into her pocket, taking a steadying breath as she looked back at the group. They were chatting quietly, exchanging looks of concern as they discussed the fight, oblivious to the turmoil she was hiding beneath her calm exterior.

Cal's voice broke through her thoughts, his tone filled with a bitterness she hadn't heard before. "Well, maybe next time, Marcus should think twice before trying to 'calm me down' with his fists."

Marcus shifted uncomfortably, meeting Cal's gaze with a mix of regret and frustration. "I wasn't trying to fight you, Cal. You kept pushing, and I—"

"Pushing?" Cal scoffed, his eyes narrowing as he leaned forward. "You don't get it, do you? You think you're the only one hurting? That you're the only one who cared about Jordan?"

Gianina felt the tension in the room thickening, her mind racing as she tried to find a way to defuse the situation. She reached out, placing a hand on Cal's arm. "Cal, we're all grieving. Fighting isn't going to bring her back."

Cal's gaze softened as he looked at her, the anger in his eyes giving way to a sadness that made her chest ache. "I know," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it feels like... like nothing's the same anymore. Like we're all just pretending everything's okay when it's not."

Rufus nodded, his usual bravado replaced by a quiet empathy. "None of us are okay, man. But we've got to stick together if we're going to get through this."

Mary sighed, setting down the ice pack and giving Cal a small, sad smile. "We've lost so much already. Let's not lose each other too."

Marcus hesitated, glancing between Gianina and Cal before he spoke again. "I'm sorry, Cal. I didn't mean to push you. I just... I didn't want to lose control."

Cal looked at him for a long moment, the tension finally easing as he nodded, though his gaze held a lingering resentment. "Just... let's not do that again."

Gianina felt a wave of relief wash over her as the tension dissolved, but the lingering words from the killer's messages weighed heavily on her mind. She couldn't shake the fear that he was watching, waiting, ready to strike at any moment. And as she looked at Cal, his face still etched with the remnants of anger, she wondered if the killer's words held any truth—if there was something hidden beneath the surface, something she hadn't seen.

For now, though, she forced herself to push the thoughts aside, focusing instead on the fragile peace they had managed to salvage. She would keep her fears hidden, her doubts buried deep. Because as long as her friends were safe, she would endure anything, even the dark promises of the devil that haunted her every step.