"... Come again?"
"Yeah. You just have to pretend to be the girl I'm leaving her for, then we can pretend break up later," Pogan explained, as if it wouldn't result in someone getting physically hurt. I gave him a skeptical stare.
"I-I guess? I dunno, I'm pretty sure you ripped this idea off of some TV show..." He still took it as a yes, and we planned to set the plan in motion tomorrow.
---
I made sure to do my makeup (with the beauty salon's supplies, of course), and even dress in real clothes. I had my hair covering the left side of my face, and I wore a grey button-down, a skirt, and wedges. Pogan just wore a short-sleeved button-down and jeans. We linked arms, and he gave me a final glance before the plan was officially set in motion.
"You think this is gonna work?"
"You're with a seasoned actress. Just act accordingly and stick to your lines."
"Okay." We started the possible death march into the cafeteria. We sat across the room from where Trinity was located; she was talking with someone, holding her hood to her head. Like some sort of Pogan Locator, she immediately looked in our direction. Pogan looked nervous, but I gave him a reassuring nod and sat across from him. We were promptly served what was last of Betsy the Third, some corn, and mashed potatoes. An idea popped into mind, and before he could grab his fork, I stopped him.
"Ah, ah, ah. I'm playin' my role, so let the actress perform," I grinned. He retracted his hand. I took the fork and cut a piece of the beef. I jabbed the fork into the meat and smiled. "Open wide." He did so, and I proceeded with feeding him what he ordered. Trinity was attracted to us like moths to light, and she came storming over from behind Pogan. I raised my eyebrows and flicked my vision over to her.
"Pogan!" He turned ghost white for a second, then he quickly calmed himself and began to speak.
"Oh, hey."
"What are you doing with her?" She jabbed a finger towards me, and I calmly ate my corn and mashed potatoes.
"Oooh, yeah," he hissed his tongue, "about that... I'm breaking up with you." She. Looked. Pissed.
"You WHAT? Why!?"
"Well, Ari treats me right, she's pretty, independent, and she doesn't bitch and complain in her sleep." If she actually does, may God have mercy on Pogan's poor soul. She was stupified for a second, then drew her hand back far.
SMACK!
If I weren't right in front of it when it happened, I still would've probably heard it from across Undead America. She slapped him so hard, the whole room fell quiet. She slapped him so hard, his unborn kids are gonna have handprints on their cheeks four years from now. she slapped him so hard, he fell onto the floor and held his right cheek in pain.
"Hey!" I hopped over the long table and stood a little bit taller than I actually am in front of her. "If anyone's gonna get slapped around today, it better be me," I growled. She jumped at the chance, pulling a less severe smack on me. I simply straightened up and smiled. My hand reached back far, but not for a slap as bad as her's.
I grabbed a handful of my mashed potatoes.
"My turn!" I giggled. I not only smacked her hard, I also flicked her hood off and made sure food got tangled in her kelp hair. She gasped like the pretty, stuck-up bitch she is.
"Did you just do that!?"
"I dunno, did it seem kinda like this--?" I potato-smacked her again, on the other side of her head.
"You little bitch!!" She was seething with anger, but it was hilarious. Until she turned to Pogan. "And you. I swear on my own life that I will make your life a living hell, Pogan." I shoved her forward, then continued to shove her, straight out of the cafeteria.
"Get outta here! You're all bark and no bite!"
---
The next morning was hell.
Mitch and Jerome's lifeless bodies were set in front of my door, both slumped against the wall, both clutching the handles of the knives that killed them. Ava was still asleep, since I heard thumping at one in the morning and decided to see where the sounds resonated. I quickly called Director Staedler.
"Staedler."
"Director, the bodies of Mitch and Jerome were just found in front of my door. I believe it was Trinity who stabbed them."
"Does she have reason?" I could hear him shuffling and shifting on his end.
"Yes, she thinks she has some sort of romantic rivalry with me, and I believe this is her idea of revenge."
"Right. The Special Ops have been contacted, and a team is setting out now to find her within the perimeter. Stay vigilant in the case she tries to come after you and Ava."
"Yessir. My radio will be on, so please notify me if she is found. I have a fitting punishment just for her."
"Will do, soldier. Go back to bed if you wish, but it is reccomended you keep watch if she is to attack you."
"Director, I plan to notify Scout Pogan of this incident, since Mitch is his adoptive brother. I need a member of Special Ops to come and watch over Ava so that I may notify Pogan."
"Special Ops Jackson is on her way."
"Thank you, Director." I hung up, and on-cue, Special Ops Jackson came marching silently down the hall. "Keep a watchful eye on Ava, Jackson. I have to notify Scout Pogan of what happened." She nodded.
"A crew will be here shortly to pick up the bodies."
"Thank you." In my pajamas and clutching my radio, I ran down the hall, took a right, and went straight for the next three halls, to Pogan's room. I knocked on the door, hearing the quiet footsteps of Special Ops members all around. "Pogan! Wake up!!" I opened the door; he was sound asleep. Something felt wrong in my mind, but I brushed it off for a moment and rushed to his side. "Wake up, man!" I shook him until the snoring came to a stop.
"Eh? Wh-What's going on!?"
"It's Mitch and Jerome, they were stabbed."
---
Four funerals to plan.
One's being held right now.
The execution of Trinity Varista.
I drove the Grim Reaper--a black, menacing Mustang convertible with a large, detailed skull painted on the hood, saved for driving criminals to their impending deaths--for miles to New Bedford, where I knew of a cliff that overlooked the sea. Two Special Ops soldiers had found Trinity in her old room, the room before she officially moved in with Pogan and Mitch, and had tied her up without a struggle. Those same two soldiers were now tying heavy leads and irons to her bindings. I revved the engine, attracting zombies from all around. On the back of the convertible, Desmond and Ian worked tirelessly to exterminate the rising hordes.
We arrived at the bottom of the cliff, and I parked the car to get out and help. I swung, the boys worked with their rifles. It took no time with three people, and as we worked, the Special Ops men lugged Trinity out of the car and up the cliff. The last one was taken care of, and after checking to see if any more dared come near, Desmond, Ian, and I caught up with the three already atop the cliff. I was the one to speak.
"Trinity Varista, for the murders of Scout Mitchell and Scout Jerome, you are to be executed by drowning. Any last words?" She stayed mute, so I nodded to the Special Ops men. They disposed of her easily. I looked over the edge, but what I saw is something I don't wish to describe. That's enough bloodshed for today.
