16. You'll Need To Come With Us

15.5K 1K 119
                                    

Tori Fairchild's body had been discovered in the woods near her house at approximately two pm that afternoon.

News spread through the school like wildfire. Officers from the local sheriff's department knocked on the door of my seventh period English class roughly ten minutes after the news hit. Mrs. King, my English teacher, talked quietly with a tall, gray-haired officer for a few moments in the hallway, then entered the room with a pale face. To my surprise, she was looking directly at me.

"Harper Madison, the officers outside would like to talk to you."

Her words pierced through me. Did they know about my secret? Had someone seen me at the stadium that night? I was unable to move, frozen to the seat of my desk.

"Harper?" Mrs. King called my name louder. Her voice had an edge of hysteria to it. No doubt she'd been really close to Tori, being her cheer coach and all. I couldn't imagine what she was going through.

Every pair of eyes was on me. Probably wondering what in the world the new Shadowford freak had to do with Tori's death. Hell, I was wondering that myself. It was possible I had been one of the last people to see her alive, but no one actually knew that.

Unless I'd been wrong and the guy out there with her saw my face.

Slowly, I stood and gathered my things. Outside the classroom, I faced the two officers. "I'm Harper Madison," I said.

"You'll need to come with us," the older man said.

"Why?" My mouth went completely dry and I had a hard time swallowing. "What's wrong?"

"I can't discuss the details of the case out here in the hallway of the public school. As long as you cooperate, we'll do you the favor of not handcuffing you here in front of your friends."

Handcuffing? Jesus, what were they saying? That I was a suspect? The world around me began to spin uncontrollably. I shook my head.

"No, I didn't do anything wrong. I don't understand what's going on here."

My entire body went cold and my stomach lurched. The younger officer, a middle-aged man with a beer belly and a bushy mustache, grabbed my upper arm and began to pull me down the hall. He pinched my skin a bit, his fingers digging into my arm as I shuffled reluctantly toward the front entryway.

The bright afternoon sun hit me full in the face as we pushed through the front doors. I jerked my arm away from the policeman and stepped back from him. He made a move toward me like he was ready to catch me if I decided to run, but he relaxed when he saw that I wasn't exactly trying to make a break for it.

"I can walk just fine on my own," I said. But as I made my way past the tall demon statue, I felt the same wave of dizziness I'd felt on my first day of school. I stumbled slightly, then recovered.

"You okay?" the older man asked.

No, I wanted to say. I am most definitely not okay.

Instead, I nodded my head and walked obediently to the waiting squad car. This wasn't my first time in the back of a police car. I hated that feeling of being out of control. Locked away like an animal with no way to escape. It scared me to think what an actual prison cell must feel like. I hoped to God I wasn't about to find out.

The Peachville police station was a tiny building in the center of downtown. A young officer sat at the front desk in the small reception area. He didn't look much older than me with his fresh haircut and smooth baby face. As we entered the room, he stood quickly, knocking over a full jar of pencils.

"Oh shoot." He scrambled to pick them up, but a few pencils rolled off the desk top and onto the floor. "Sorry sir."

"Ellis, what did Sheriff Hollingsworth tell you about those damn pencils?" the older officer said.

Beautiful DemonsWhere stories live. Discover now