Blood Waste

2. Chamber

2. CHAMBER

"Should we get closer?" 

Resisting the urge to slap her, I ignored Stacy's question, shuffling further behind the large bush. Our search for answers had led us to Christopher Bale's house - his shrubbery in particular. 

"You know," she trailed off, "we could scoot over there, right under the window, and snap some pictures of them making out!"

I sighed, disappointed.

"Sometimes, I feel like you have these great ideas, but then you just ruin it." I ignored her protesting glare and continued on. "And right when I was starting to have faith in you..."

Smirking, I awaited her usual response - a light punch coupled with a smile - but it never came. She sighed; a light breath that escaped her mouth and left an imprint on the air around us. I shivered, finally taking note of the frigid night air and the goose bumps that had risen on my arms.

“Look,” She said tiredly, glancing from the house and back to me. “The only way we can find out what the hell they’re doing is to get closer. From here, all we can do is speculate and make crappy assumptions.”

I gaped – had that been actual logic?! – and stared at her in shock. I closed my mouth and opened it again, ready to reply, but she beat me to it.

“I don’t know about you, but I have a pile of Calc homework to make up answers for, and if you really want to sate your curiosity, we might as well get it over with.”

Before I could get a single word in, she jumped out from behind the bush and ran at the house, diving under the window – just like that.

Great, my brain told me. How are you going to get out of this one?

“I don’t know,” I muttered to myself, slowly standing up. “I really, really don’t know.”

Hoping desperately that I wouldn’t trip, I ran around Christopher Bale’s lawn until I reached the window, ducking down and sliding under. A small ledge covered our heads, and I realized something for the first time that night. What would happen if we were caught? I knew he was bad news, but couldn’t find the source of my morbid curiosity. What was it about him that made me so suspicious?

But Julia, a voice in the back of my mind piped up– the very voice I had been contently ignoring for the past ten minutes – and a pang of worry shot through me. How could she possibly be safe with him?  I associated Christopher Bale with two things – danger, Satan, and extremely good looks. Okay, make that three things.

 "If we get caught, I'm sacrificing you." I whispered, lowering my voice. She snickered quietly, sliding closer to me.

"I'd love to be sacrificed to him." 

"Gross." I mumbled, and she shushed me. Gesturing upwards, she pointed at the window, making motions with her arms that I could only assume meant that she wanted me to look into it. I shook my head vehemently, and she face palmed.

“I’ve got to do everything myself,” She grumbled, managing to shimmy up on her knees and peeked over the small ledge. Shivering, I hugged my chest and waited for her to tell me if Julia Stone and Christopher Bale really were getting it on inside his creepy, old house.

“See anything sketchy yet? No making out?” Without looking she smacked me, quietly shushing me. “Jeez, bitch.”

“For the love of god, shut the hell up!” I scooted to the side at the change in tone of her voice and looked at her in shock as my eyes widened.