4. POWER
Looking up at the imposing silhouette of Christopher Bale’s house, I gulped.
Impatiently tapping my foot against the sidewalk, I checked my watch as I waited for Stacy to finally get there. Old, yellow paint coated the house and I was happy to see it was in worse condition than my own home. The windows were boarded up, the shutters dangling off the side of the house as if they could fall at any moment. Thankfully the blinds weren’t shut – we could get down to some real snooping.
I couldn’t help but wonder if Stacy really was going to bring her high def camera. Idiot, I thought to myself. She probably did.
Trapped in my thoughts, I hadn’t noticed the lights flicker on, illuminating Christopher Bale’s front lawn. Without thinking, I ducked behind a large bush and hoped to god that Stacy would come soon. Slipping my hand into my pants pocket, I went to take out my phone – but all I pulled out was an old receipt from god-knows-when at the drug store.
“Shit,” I whispered, slapping myself lightly. “How could I forget my phone?”
A tap on my shoulder jolted me out of my deranged state and I screamed, grabbing the unknown arm. My attacker let out a high pitched, girly scream in reply and I yanked them down next to me, getting a mouthful of curly hair shoved into my face.
“Stacy?” I punched her and she yelped, hitting me in return. “You scared the living crap out of me!”
“I called you six times!” she whisper-yelled, “You could’ve answered at least once!”
“I forgot my phone…”
“Fail.”
“Oh, shut the fuck up.” She rolled her eyes, scooting closer to me before she crept upwards.
“What are you doing?” I asked quietly, praying that her answer wouldn’t cause me to lose faith in humanity.
“Taking recon of the situation! This is what all great spies do!” It was lost. Looking away from Christopher Bale’s house, she shot me a grin. A shadow fell over her face as she smiled toothily, making her naturally-tan skin pale under the night sky, like a skeleton.
“Did you, or did you not spend the past five hours watching spy movies?” Raising an eyebrow, I watched as she moved next to me again, rubbing the back of her head sheepishly.
“Did I?” She chuckled, nudging her leg against mine. At the loss of her touch, I shivered, goose bumps rising on my skin. “I did.”
“Great job, Watson.”
“Hey, don’t shoot the medicine-man.” Sticking her tongue out, she turned once more, peering over the hedge. “We should get under the other window this time. Looks like that’s his living room. I bet Stone’s in there too. Slut.”
“Whoa there, dude.” My jaw unhinged a little bit. “First of all, that doesn’t even make sense. Second, I really don’t want to be murdered by Christopher Bale. And lastly – Julia Stone is not a slut!”
“It’s not speech-time, Tori. It’s huntin’ time.”
“Oh god.” I replied, shaking my head. “We’re doomed.”
“Let’s go!” She grabbed my arm, pulling me around Christopher Bale’s driveway, and we snuck past the garage. Our feet fell in soft patters on the ground, but I felt like an elephant in the silent night – large, clumsy, and unwanted.
Ducking under the first ledge, we clambered around the fragile-looking wood steps, passing the foreboding door and sliding beneath the second window’s ledge.
YOU ARE READING
Blood Waste
Werewolf"With him, it wasn't exactly love at first sight. More like it wasn't love at first anything. I hated him so much I could die - but if only he allowed me to. So naturally, instead, I disappeared." Tori Eve...
