Page 16 of Sinister Legacy
Now she laughs—a rich, drawn-out sound that rubs me the wrong way. When she looks at me again, all humor is gone. “Now you listen to me, bitch. I’ve got you by the fucking balls. Don’t threaten me. It won’t end well.”
“Someone stuck a fucking tampon to the wall,” Keira says, plopping down beside me. “I had to stare at it the entire time I was peeing.”
Madison’s easy smile returns. She leans back on her elbows and draws a leg up. “I think your boy is about to score, Keira.” Then she winks at me.
Fucking winks.
I’m still chuckling to myself when I walk back inside the school building after practice to use the toilet.
The look on Cassie’s face. She resembled a ghost.
So fucking funny.
The hallways are quiet, absent of students now that they’ve all gone home. There’s something eerie about an empty school, the way my Chucks clap on the floor.
How it seems to echo.
Further up is an abandoned mop and bucket and a pool of soapy water on the floor. But I see no one.
Pulling my headphones over my ears, I take a right down the next hallway. At the top of my recommended music list is “Sweet Dreams” by Marilyn Manson. I press play and hum along to the haunting lyrics.
A broken light flickers overhead, adding to the spooky atmosphere as I shoulder the bathroom door.
Pocketing my phone, I enter a stall, shut the door, and pull the lock into place. The toilet lid is open, and the bowl is stained black with a thick layer of limescale and a line of dried shit.
I tear off strips of toilet paper and use them to cover the seat before placing the roll down and unbuttoning my jeans. No fucking way am I sitting my bare ass down on the toilet seat.
Hooking my fingers in my jeans and panties, I pull them down to my thighs before carefully taking a seat. My knee bounces while I empty my bladder, stopping short of whistling a tune. When I’m done, I wipe clean and stand back up, then flush the toilet and pull my pants back on.
My phone vibrates with an incoming text. I fish it out of my pocket, unlocking the screen.
Mom: We’re out of milk. Can you pick some up on the way home, please?
Me: Sure. I’m leaving now.
Placing the phone back into my pocket, I exit the stall and come to a halt when my eyes land on a robed figure in a metallic, red devil’s mask. In his hand is a knife, the blade glinting beneath the fluorescent lights.
“What the fuck is this?” My voice shakes as I pull my headphones down around my neck and inch back, closer to the wall. It’s stupid. The only way out is through the door.
The door he’s currently blocking.
My heart smashes against my chest the longer he stares at me through the mask. I break out in a cold sweat, darting my gaze around the room, then shout, “What the fuck do you want?!”
“I want many things,” he says in a distorted, twisted voice that makes me pause. “But for now, I’ll settle for your blood on these walls.”
“What the hell?” I breathe out, ice cold with horror.
He steps closer, causing my heart to jump to my throat. I let out a whimper, holding my hand up in front of me. “Please, don’t hurt me.”
“You’re a slut like everyone else,” he says, slowly dragging the blade of the knife over the doors. “And like everyone else, you have buried secrets you don’t want anyone to find out.”
Salty tears prick my eyes and blur my vision. When he makes a slashing motion with his knife, I scream, cowering against the wall. “Like how your mom let the principal fuck her on top of your admission papers on his desk to secure your place here. And now that legacy falls on you, doesn’t it?”
“You don’t know fucking anything!” I scream, surprising myself with the level of anger in my voice and how it tears through my vocal cords.
“Every week, usually after biology, he calls you into his office for a chat, doesn’t he?”
“SHUT UP!” I sob, lowering into a crouch. “Just stop!”
