Death's Double Trio

Chapter 8

~At lunch~
Sapphire’s Perspective

        Coleen and I are sitting at our usual table when BEN shows up at the cafeteria doors again.
        “Hey newb, over here.” He gets a tick mark on his forehead. ‘Note to self: BEN does not like being called a newb.’ He stomps over to us with an angry look on his face.
        “Oh calm down. I only called you that cause you're new to the school and I don't know your name yet. How was I supposed to know you were a gamer?” It's all a lie to cover myself, but it works and he calms down.
        “Sorry, in all honesty I shouldn't have reacted like that. My name’s Ben. How could you tell I was a gamer?”
        “By how you reacted to being called a newbie. A normal person would just brush it off and go with it. But gamers hate being called that.”
        “Its true. A gamer being called a newb is like pissing off the Hulk. We look like scrawny little idiots at first but we can give you a heck of a beat down. So what did you call me for?”
        “Just to say that you guys can sit with us whenever you want. Honestly, it's usually just Coleen and I at this table. Everyone else is just kind of too scared to sit by us.”
        “Thanks for the offer. I think we'll be taking you up on it more often then not.” Everyone else finally shows up and sits down. They all sits where they were yesterday, except for Masky. He sits by me and I get up, just before he sits down but right after he put his food down, and hug him again. He tenses again then hugs back.
        “Follow me.” I tell him quietly. I quit hugging him and drag him out of the cafeteria and to the music room. I open the door and find Xyler with Heather, one of the cheerleaders on my squad. As soon as the light hits them they start gathering up their clothes. Yes, their clothes. I start to crack my voice on purpose.
        “Xyler, h-how cou-“
        “She knows, Sapphire.” I stop cracking my voice.
        “As per school board rules, I can't dump you without probable cause, Xyler. Would you like me to take the incriminating picture now or later?”
        “Now wait a minute. I'm still here-“
        “Calm down Heather. I know full well what that picture could do to your cheering career. But, if you shut up for a while, I could get them to lessen the sentence and keep you on the squad.” She nods and stays quiet. I turn back to Xyler.
        “The choice is yours, now or later?”
        “Later, now leave us be will ya?” I nod and close the door.
        “The music room is soundproof both ways, we can talk while we wait. What did you want?” I ask Masky.
        “Does Coleen know?”
        “Know what?”
        “Know that you killed her parents.”
        “What makes you think I killed them?”
        “You’re not the only one that can research someone. I found the police report and the news strips online. Plus, from what you told me earlier, you're a killer.” My nose wrinkles.
        “That doesn't mean I killed them. Yes, our parents were killed on the same night, at about the same time, but I didn't kill her parents.”
        “I found you in another police report as well, along with Coleen. Dated about a month before the murder of your parents.”
        “The birthday party.”
        “So you remember it.”
        “How could I forget? Me and two of my friends were the sole survivors of a full on massacre. That was almost a whole year ago. It will be on Friday.”
        “Three days from now?” I nod in answer.
        “That's why I want you to deliver the note. I need to give them something, in person. And they won't come without the note.” I hear the lock on the door click and get out my camera, moving to the other side of the hall. Xyler holds the door open for Heather. Looking at each other and not out in the hall.
        “Say cheese.” I say happily. They look at me surprised and I take the picture.
        “Blackmail and Incrimination 101: Article 10, Clause 2: ‘Always wait for the perfect moment to strike.’ You might want to read up on that one Timothy.” I say. The two look at Masky, who's looking at the photo.
        “This is good, if I didn't know better, I'd say it was real.”
        “Their hair wasn't messy enough to show anything and their clothes needed to be mussier. What can I say? I'm a journalist and a photographer, it's what I do. Surprised faces, however, are impossible to recreate.” We were already back at the table, still talking about and looking at the picture.
        “Still, the craftsmanship you put into it. I wish I knew how to do that with my own camera.”
        “I could always show you, you know?”
        “Really?”
        “Yeah really. Here, let me see your camera.” He shakes his head.
        “What camera? I don't have a camera.” He puts his hands in his jacket pockets.
        “Lies. You have three. One in your back pocket, one in your jacket pocket, and the one you just handed to Brian under the table so that I wouldn't get it. The one you videoed our conversation with. Well, news flash Timothy.” I stand up and pull my hand out of my pocket, revealing the camera he videoed me with.
        “You gave him the wrong camera.” Before he could get up, I sprinted out of the cafeteria and to the journalism room. I lock the door behind me, plug the camera into a computer and download all the footage of me. (There was a lot.) ‘No wonder he's Slenderman’s proxy. He's good at not being caught.’ When it gets to the part with me in the gym room showers after practice, I pause the video. I had already deleted the footage of me off the camera, but left it plugged into the computer. I walk to the door, where Masky had been banging on it, trying to get in. I unlock it and pull him in by the ear. I sit him down and tie him up to a rolling chair. I lock the door back because I can see the others coming. I take the camera out of his jacket and put it in a locked drawer. I sit on his lap and hug him while he's immobile in the chair. He doesn't dare make a sound. I move my hands down his back till I reach his jeans, him shuddering the whole time.
        “Are you right handed or left handed?”
        “Right, w-why?” He stutters out. I move my right hand back up to his shoulder, he shudders again, then my left hand down to his right pocket, reaching for his other camera. I pull it out and stand back up. I put it in a different locked drawer and turn around to see him sweating and breathing as if he ran a marathon.
        “I think you enjoyed me taking your cameras way too much. You didn't think I had forgotten about the camera in your back pocket, did you.”
        “Hey, I'm still a teenager you know.”
        “Yeah, I know. I also know that all teenage guys are pervs. I just didn't know till now that that included Slenderman’s proxies.” I turn the computer toward him, still paused with me in the shower.
        “Honestly, I should be mad but instead, I have a proposition for you. How would you like to be the new photographer for the school newspaper? I'm better at photo shop then I am at photo taking.”
        “Are you gonna do that to me again?” He asks.
        “Probably not, but it would just be you and me on the team. Coleen has no interest in journalism.”
        “What are the hours?”
        “School hours for you, I got a couple teachers who cover games and events for me. And a one hour meeting after school. That's about it.”
        “Deal. I'll do it.” I nod and untie him. I hand him the camera I wiped.
        “You'll get the other two back at the meeting tomorrow.” He nods and I unlock, and open, the door. Everyone else walks in. The bell rings, but Masky doesn't move when everyone else leaves the room. They all head to their classes. Hoodie stands outside the door waiting.
        “You can't move, can you?” I ask Masky sarcastically. He shakes his head ‘no’. I sigh and call Hoodie in.
        “Brian, help me get Timothy to the nurse.” He nods and we put Masky’s arms over our shoulders.
        “Whoa, Sapphire! What did you do to him?” He asks while we basically drag Masky.
        “I took his cameras.”
        “The one in his back pocket too?”
        “Correct.”
        “But wasn't he tied down?”
        “Correct again.”
        “How'd you get it from him?”
        “Do you really want to know?”
        “No.”
        “Good choice. Cause I don't want to talk about it and I doubt Timothy will want to either.” We get to the nurses office and I go to class, barely making it on time.