Stalked By A Serial Killer

Chapter Twenty-Two: Plot Twist

Chapter Twenty-Two: "Plot Twist."

"KILLING A BUNCH OF PEOPLE doesn't make me a coward." Faith laughs.

"You didn't kill anyone, Faith, you had people do your dirty work for you." I point out, lowering my weapon because I don't have the feeling of fright anymore, just extreme annoyance. She doesn't scare or intimidate me, however her temper is a little worrisome. Though Faith is more than capable of claiming lives, I tend to believe, or used to, that it was during one of her manic episodes–when she blacks out. Now that I look back on it, I think she might have never actually blacked out during any of them. She might have just been acting, and pretending to forget everything.

Was this her plan all along? To use me as a friend just to kill me in the end? Or was there the possibility of her being my friend then suddenly wanting to put a bullet through my brain and throw away almost ten years of friendship?

Too many questions that will probably never be answered.

"Really? Okay, then. Does the name. . ." She starts, but stops and turns to the man on the left, the hot one–not the hotter–and whispers just loud enough for Bryce and I to hear, "What's the little shit's name? . . . Oh, really? I thought it was Daphne or something like that. . . alrighty then." Faith shrugs her shoulders and faces me again. "Does the name Violet ring a bell to you, Jo?" I now despise that nickname.

My fists clench as does my jaw. I'm angry that she even bothered to bring that little girl up. Violet didn't deserve this, and she definitely doesn't deserve to be brought up the way Faith is. She's using a kid to make me weak. It isn't going to work, she should already know how I function, and that bringing up trauma cases doesn't scare me, but maddens me.

When I don't answer, she begins chuckling and stepping closer to Bryce and I, who suddenly steps in front of me protectively. "See, here's what's going to make this position with the child even more hilarious, Morgan. Well, for me, not you. That day while you and lover boy were out at the library–of course you don't need me to remind you–I had a task that I needed to complete in order to continue our little MP Project. I had a subject I needed to eliminate in order to draw you closer to us. Now, here is when I feel slightly bad, but only like, I don't know, a toothpick's of size."

I can't move, mainly for the reason that my best friend betrayed me and tried to kill me too many times I forgot counting, or it's because Bryce has me in a death grip now so I don't lunge and strangle her and her fat neck. Though I'd probably be dead before I even was an arms width away from her. Or I'd be tortured if they for some reason still want me alive.

I'm terrifyingly calm, but now I thank Charlie for me keeping my cool because I'd get whooped even more if I showed any emotion. On the other hand, however, I've kind of lost any feeling since the World Cup finals, so I'm not exactly sure how to react.

"Instead of dragging you on because I know why you're here, I'll cut to the chase. Yes, I am your stalker. No, I wasn't doing the stalking forever, just for a couple years. Anyway, let's get to the good stuff." She smiles, and starts talking like she's won a Grammy and is giving her speech. "Little Violet wasn't initially on my target list, but seeing that you met her and made her stupid little day with money, after the deed was done, I knew she would be a lot easier to use as bait than the original man.

"So, to make matters worse, I and my boss, who you'll find out later, decided to send you a little package, hence the skull with hair arriving at Tyler's doorstep. I'm going to admit, you did make things severely more difficult than they were supposed to be, and you changed our arrangements quite frequently.

"The head was made for your door, until you started staying with Tyler then we had to change that in case your mom seen it and ruined everything. You definitely deserve what comes to you, Morgan, after that little stunt you pulled with the letter."