"Are you scared?"

***

Lydia stumbled back home after dropping off Jennifer's car at her house, still in shock. Her thoughts were adrift. In one hand, she held her broken heels, leaving her barefoot on the tarmac. Luckily, there was no one out here to see Lydia Martin as a wreck.

The moment she was back in the comforts of her own home, her brain continued on autopilot. She attended to her normal routine and got ready for bed. In the shower, Lydia washed away her tear-stained makeup and the ashes that marked her body. The cross drawn on her hand remained, fading ever so slightly.

Then, she dried her hair and put on her pyjamas. She crawled onto her bed, breathing heavily as she laid down on her cotton pillowcase. It was almost as if she could still hear the screams of those who perished in the fire. 

The shittiest bar in Beacon Hills burnt down, but Lydia wasn't even surprised. All she could do was close her eyes and pretend that it was all just some horrifying dream.

Lydia returned to the memories of her childhood. They were bright and colourful, the amber sun shining brightly in the sky. Two familiar little girls sat in the sandbox, playing with their toys.

"I'll be Perfect Prom Betty," A young Jennifer told Lydia, fondling a beautiful Barbie doll in one hand. In her other hand was an uglier doll with a broken arm that she stuck into the sand. "And you be her."

She sneered at the doll. "Why do I have to be Ugly Ashley?"

Before the young girl could respond, Jennifer cried out in pain. "Ow!"

"What's wrong, Jennifer?" asked Lydia with a tone of concern. 

There was a small pin that was jabbed deep into her flesh. Lydia quickly pulled it out and threw it away; a tiny pool of blood formed from the wound. Her friend then kissed it better, sucking up some of the blood.

"Don't tell my mom, she'll make me get a shot." She told her.

"I would never tell on you," Lydia promised, the girls smiling sweetly at each other.

Unexpectedly, Lydia awoke with a scream. It felt like someone just stabbed in the chest. Something burned inside of her, a deep hatred that threatened to consume her. It was as if a part of her had been ripped out and destroyed. She writhed in pain, overcome with emotion. But she had no idea why she felt this way.

Then, it stopped. The terrifying feeling vanished, only leaving her with dread. She was disorientated at first before shortly remembering the events of the night. Then the horror seeped in as Lydia remembered what happened to Jennifer.

She snatched her mobile phone and immediately scoured her contacts list. The moment Lydia saw her name, she instantly called her. The dial tone was loud and ominous as she waited for her best friend to answer. Lydia crouched on her duvet, biting her nails anxiously. "Hello, this is Jennifer-"

A small grin formed on her face. "Jen-!"

"I'm not here at the moment, but I'm sure I'll get back to you if you leave me a message. Thanks!" Her smile faded, hearing a loud beep on the other end.

Lydia hung up in dismay before calling the next person she thought of. She selected Stiles' name and waited for him to answer. There was a need to hear the voice of someone she loved as she attempted to recover from tonight's discovery.

There was a faint click on his end before a deep voice spoke. "Hey, Lydia..." Stiles said groggily. 

"Oh, thank God. I was really hoping you were going to answer." She responded, relieved.

He had clearly been sleeping and was just waking up. "What's up? How was the... gig?"

"Jennifer's gone," Lydia stated. "She ran off with that rock band, and Melody Lane burned down."

That definitely jolted him awake. "Are you okay? You're okay, right? You're not hurt or anything?"

"No, I'm fine." She told him. "But there was this huge stampede, and people got trampled on. You could hear their bones breaking; it was horrible."

"Oh, my God."

"And the people- the people just smelled like... fire. They were just on fire and..." Her emotions overwhelmed her once more. "Jennifer and I escaped, but the rock band took her in their spooky van. They're complete creeps. Something bad's happened to her, I can tell."

Stiles asked. "Did you get the make and model?"

"I don't know, Stiles. An '89 Rapist?" snapped Lydia, growing more panicked by the second. "She's still out there. We have to go find her."

"Lydia, people just burned to death, and you're worried about Jennifer?" he questioned.

She gasped in shock. "Stiles, if this happened to Scott, would you care?!"

"Of course, I would!"

Before they could continue their argument, Lydia heard her doorbell ring. She lowered her voice, sounding even more frantic. "Stiles, somebody's here!"

"Are you alone? Is your mom not home yet?" he asked.

Lydia slid off her bed, creeping across her floorboards. "She never comes home when she's on a date."

"Okay, just stay on the phone with me," Stiles instructed her as she exited her room. There was a faint shadow outside; someone was definitely here and wasn't leaving anytime soon. "Do you want me to come over?"

"I don't know, maybe?" Lydia tried to be quiet, nervously sneaking down the stairs. Part of her hoped that it was Jennifer; alive and well. But another part of her hoped it wasn't.

The door wasn't locked; she didn't think to lock it earlier. It was only lucky that the person outside didn't think to open it. Yet, it didn't make her less anxious about opening the door.

With some hesitance, Lydia shyly pulled the door towards her and peeked outside. Although, to her shock, there was no one there. There was no sign that someone was standing outside, but Lydia couldn't have imagined it.

"Lydia?" Stiles spoke through the phone, still on the call.

She sighed. "Okay, so now there's no one out here."

"That's really creepy." He divulged.

"Maybe I'm going crazy," Lydia said.

"Do you still want me to come over?" wondered Stiles.

Lydia bit into her lips, closing the door. "No, it's okay. It was probably nothing."

However, behind her, the dark silhouette of a figure stood nearby. She didn't notice though, the shadow moving once she turned around. "I'll call you later, all right."

"Okay." She hung up on Stiles, locking the door properly this time. Lydia sighed again, about to head upstairs again when she heard a faint thump from the hallway. Soon enough, her instincts stupidly told her to discover where it came from.

The floorboards creaked below her feet as she edged towards the kitchen. The only light given to her was the natural moonlight that shone through the windows, hardly illuminating her path. She noticed from afar that the kitchen faucet was dripping, the water lightly thudding the metal. 

Lydia released a relieved sigh, strolling over to the tap to turn it off. Her nerves were just playing up. She had been in shock, most likely had a panic attack and was now being easily frightened by household appliances. 

The pipes squeaked as she turned off the faucet. The dripping ceased, and the kitchen was silent again. As she turned around to leave, she was abruptly met with the face of Jennifer Check. 

She yelped for a second, startled by her sudden appearance. Nevertheless, Lydia was overcome with joy to see that she was all right. "Hey! You're all right. I was so worried..."

Her words trailed off when she acknowledged the blood on her face. The red liquid dripped from her body, her outfit completely ruined. She was missing her left ugg boot, and her vest was torn slightly. 

Jennifer stared blankly at her, Lydia's relief presently fading. "Jen? What happened to you?"

She didn't reply, creepily glaring into her soul. Then, her lips contorted into a wicked smile. Her teeth had been coloured red like the blood on her outfit; she looked deranged. 

"Jen...?"

A chill went down Lydia's spine as Jennifer's eye pierced into her. There was something terrifying that flickered in the irises of this once innocent girl. She eventually lost interest and rotated her body towards the refrigerator. The bloodied teenager swung the door open and grabbed a raw chicken from a shelf. 

Jennifer crouched on the floor as she ripped the chicken apart and gorged upon it. Lydia kneeled beside her, severely disturbed by her actions. "Jennifer, that's not... that's not cooked. You'll get sick or-"

Suddenly, she roared inhumanely with the food still in her mouth. Lydia's mouth hung open, watching as Jennifer gagged on the chicken and spat it out. Shortly after, a wave of black projectile goo was vomited from her mouth. It poured out her, coating Lydia's knees and the tiled flooring.

Eventually, Jennifer stopped, the slime dripping from her lips. Lydia backed away in horror as the vomit spiked up; like it was alive. Her best friend giggled insanely. It was obvious that something was very wrong with her.

Being the good friend she was, Lydia rushed over to her. She held her in her arms as she continued to giggle madly. "Jennifer? Jennifer?"

She pressed her hand against her wrist, seeking her pulse. But she couldn't feel anything, there was hardly any blood pumping in her veins. In fact, she was sure that there wasn't any blood pumping at all. "I'm going to call an ambulance."

Lydia sprinted out of the kitchen, retrieving her phone from the mantle. She was about to dial 911 when Jennifer came up behind her, spun her around and slammed her against the wall. Her phone dropped from her fingertips, tumbling onto the dirty floor. 

Jennifer leaned in closer, whispering in her ear. "Are you scared?"

Tears built up in her eyes, and Lydia nodded in response. She felt Jennifer growl at her neck, her lips nuzzling her fair skin. Her bloody hand scraped a framed picture of Lydia, streaking the perfect photo. As the situation grew tenser, Lydia immediately thought she was going to die. It was the end, it seemed. Her best friend was going to kill her because she abandoned her. Perhaps she deserved it.

She could have finished her right there, but she didn't. Instead, the blood-soaked girl threw Lydia to the ground and backed away. Sirens wailed outside as Jennifer unlocked the front door and left the house.

"Jennifer!" cried Lydia, calling after her. She sobbed, clutching her knees in fear. Whatever that thing was, it wasn't her best friend.

***

This book has just reached 1K! Thanks so much for reading everybody. It really means a lot when I see all your comments and votes on this story because it helps me continue doing what I love. Your support really does wonders for my self-esteem. 

I was really excited to write this part, so I hoped you enjoyed it!

- Alice ❤