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Chapter 10

Chapter 9: After a Storm comes a Hurricane

Who's Texting Me? Oh, Just My Homicidal Stalker. boyxboy

Fabulous comments call for hard work :D Here's chapter 9! Before the 4th, like promised!

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In the morning I awoke with my arm aching like a bitch. A serious bitch. My cut chest also hurt, but getting your arm squeezed like a tube of toothpaste (by a jock) hurts more than just a cut. I groaned as I sat up to meet the sun fully in my face. What time was it?

I unthinkingly checked my phone for the time. Noon!? Damn I slept in late! I also saw the old text from last night that I neglected to read.

Private Number: “There isn’t anything to interrogate me about.”

Ha! Bullshit. Either way, even if I wasn’t positive that Astly was hiding anything something, it was better safe than sorry. “Astly?” I called out.

Private Number: “lol u finally up Jake? U were asleep like Sleeping Beauty!"

“Yeah, I’m up. Anyway, why am I not safe?” I asked, getting right to the point. Astly seemed to imply that I wasn’t safe in his texts the night before.

Private Number: “I dunno? Why aren’t you?”

Oh, he was not going to do this. “I’m not stupid, Stupid. Don’t try and play dumb.” I said angrily.

I waited for Astly to text back. He didn’t. I swear that I spent about five minutes glaring the crap out of my phone. The longer he took the deeper glowered at it.

Private Number: “Stop glaring! I’m not telling you anything. I know that if I say a single thing you’re going to go into stupid-mode and probably do some crazy shit... Like you were going to do if I didnt do something about Kyle.”

“Is it a person or group?” I asked directly, disregarding Astly’s refusal to tell me anything. It had to be a person if Astly was comparing this to the Kyle thing.

Private Number: “No.”

“You mean yes.” I corrected.

Private Number: “No, I mean no.”

“Which means yes.” I persisted. He took a while to text back.

Private Number: “I never thought that I would b the one saying no~”

I flinched back in shock. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I snapped.

Private Number: “Oh. You know.”

“Fuck-tard.” I muttered uncomfortably. Why did he have to harass me so randomly!? I (again) felt like my body was in danger. Wait a moment. “You little crap! You said that to distract me, didn't you?” I hissed.

Private Number: “…partially…has anyone ever told u that ur really pissy?”

I ignored that (though the answer was yes). “If you don’t like it then stalk someone else. But what the hell is going on? Murderer? Rival ? Detective? Someone who knows who you are?” I asked pushily.

Private Number: “Look. It’s just better if u don’t know anything.”

I was getting concerned; what the hell was happening in this town now?! “Come on.” I begged with worry. “Just tell me what the problem is!”

Private Number: “No.”

“Please?” I tried.

Private Number: “…Promise u wont do stupid things?”

“Sure.” I said, despite knowing that a promise could never stop me.

Private Number: “A person I know is here to torment me or something. This person is a murderer. Also, Kyle can’t even hold a candle up to them; they’re way smarter and deadlier than Kyle. But I need to figure this out by myself. I need to get them out of here before they do anything major... and that’s all I’m saying.”

“Wait, you’re actually going to do something about it?” I asked in surprise. I thought that this could have been another ‘I’m-not-doing-shit-because-it’s-not-my-problem’ thing.

Private Number: “Duh. They might target you if I’m not careful! Like I said, they want to torment me, or something. If they knew about you they would probably do something. That little disgusting piece of smelly crud can’t get near you; they’ll make you stinky.”

I raised an eyebrow. “..Stinky?” I asked.

Private Number: “Yes! They’ll make you smell like dead people and conniving crap; they’ll soil your beauty!”

It was really hard to take Astly seriously when he got this weird. “I’m not some innocent, pure, baby-clean little princess.” I mumbled.

Private Number: “…How exactly aren’t you? ;)”

“…fuck you.” I sighed.

Private Number: “Oh yes, that’s how: ur cuss-filled vocabulary. How could I forget?”

“Well…I’m going to get some breakfast.” I said, dismissing the previous conversation. If Astly was going to do something without me pushing him to, I had no reason to butt in.

Private Number: “What r u having?”

“Is mom still here?” I asked, already knowing that Astly would have the answer (thanks to his stupid cameras).

Private Number: “No.”

“Then I’ll have cereal.” I said. Raising myself from bed. “Mom banned me from using the stove.” I added. For some reason I was fricken awful at cooking anything involving a stove. Once I tried to make soup; it burned over and I ended up being splashed with scolding chicken broth. But what banned me from the stove was when I tried to make bacon, and the stove exploded. Yes, exploded. The technician said that it was faulty wiring, but the occurrence was still enough to get me banned from using the dang stove.

Private Number: “lol yeah, we wouldn’t want u to blow yourself up.”

I stopped my descent down the stairs. How the hell did he know that?! “…Um, how long have you been stalking me?”

Private Number: “I think I started just before last March or something. But don’t worry, I only started the camera thing a are when you noticed them.”

“How reassuring.” I said sarcastically, getting some cereal out of the cupboard. “But the stove thing happened a while ago."

Private Number: “Like I said, u met me before.”

I poured milk in my cereal bowl. “I’d rather not talk about that.” I muttered, taking a bite of my breakfast.

Private Number: “Fine with me!”

I nodded in agreement and ate more of my cereal. Surprisingly Astly didn’t text me about anything for the whole time I ate. I saw a note from Mom on the table.

Hi Honey! I went to work for a sudden business trip and won’t be back until next Friday :( I’m so sorry for not saying anything sooner! Also, school is starting again on Monday!-they found the murderer! It was a boy from your school.

Please be safe and DON’T use the stove, Mom.

So, I guess that Kyle really was blamed for everything. Now Astly was off the hook for a while… Now I wish I hadn’t given him the suggestion to blame Kyle. Once I finished reading Mom’s note, I crumpled the paper and put it in the recycling; there was no way I was letting Astly know that I was home alone!

I moved to the sink and placed my plate inside; I would wash it later. When I saw my phone vibrate back on the table, I walked to it and picked it up.

Private Number: “Hey, Jake, I have to leave for the full day today, so don’t do anything stupid.”

He was leaving!? Awesome! Maybe I could actually relax in my own home for once! Or see my friends without him bitching at me over text! “Okay.” I said.

Private Number: “Will u b doing anything?”

“I might see my friends.” I said with a shrug.

Private Number: “Which ones?”

I frowned. “Does it matter?”

Private Number: “Yes.”

I sighed, already seeing what he was getting at. “Las Vegas won’t be there, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Private Number: “Kay then. I’ll c u soon. Have fun… But not too much fun.”

“I’ll keep that in mind." I said contemptuously, before exiting Astly’s texts and moving to my friends’ group text.

Jake: “Hey, do u guys wanna do something today?”

It only took a couple of seconds before Trudy, the phone addict, texted back.

Trudy: “ya! We shuld go 2 the mall (and buy Matt clothes that aren’t ugly)!!!!”

Huh? Why did Matt need new clothes? I laughed. Trudy must have still had her argument with Matt about style in her head. Not even murders could unfocus her from an argument with Matt…they were like a married couple.

Matt: “wtf! I don’t want new clothes!!!! But yeah, let’s meet there @ 2:00.”

That sounded good to me. I went upstairs to the bathroom to take a much-needed shower. A cold one; to wake me up. After I removed my clothes and bandages (from the Kyle attack), I stepped into the water. Oh, god, my bruise had turned into a lovely yellow-y blue purple.

Once I got out of the shower I redressed my injuries. Afterward, I picked up my phone off of the bathroom counter and looked at two new texts.

Celeste: “I will come too.”

Trent: “Aaaaw! I wanna come too D,: !!!! But my fam and I are going to c my grandma down south. I’ll c u guys Monday!”

I texted Trent that I would see him soon and that I hoped he had a good time. After I put on some simple jeans and grey hoodie, I left the house and started walking to the bus stop that would take me to the mall.

On my way to the bus stop I passed by the park, which was full of joyful people. I could see a lot of happy parents and children playing in the play area I was almost killed in the day before. Everyone was enjoying themselves blissfully, noticeably grateful that the murders had come to pass.

I sighed to myself gloomily. If only these people knew that shit was just getting started. Furthermore, if only I didn’t know, then I could act all happy and carefree too. Ugh, either way, I needed to stop being so angst…

Once I got to the bus stop, I checked the time; 1:20. I had to wait ten minutes before the bus came. The bus stop was surprisingly full of people that day; the only open seats were next to some guy dressed in punk style. I could see why people were avoiding him; he looked pretty threatening. He had short black hair that was lightly gelled and was wearing a black T-shirt with a skull on it, a black leather jacket with miscellaneous spikes, and red jeans along with some spiky combat boots. I could see part of a tattoo on his neck, and his face, which wasn’t bad to say the least, had an eyebrow piercing, and was looking seriously at his phone. However, if I had to choose one thing to identify him by, it would be his single large red spike earring. It jutted down from his ear and touched his neck when he bent his head. On the spike, there was a lot of small text written in pen. I couldn’t make it out from where I was standing.

Now, I had to make a decision; stand until the bus came ten minutes from then, or sit next to the sketchy looking guy? Hmm, why the hell would I stand when there were two good seats looking me in the face? I moved to the empty seat at Spike’s left and sat. He glanced at me for a moment, and then looked back at his phone. I just looked ahead uninterestedly.

After about two minutes sitting and thinking about nothing, my phone vibrated. “Gah!” I yelped in surprise, jumping up in my seat. I earned many odd looks from the people at the bus stop, including a chuckle from Spike Guy.

I ignored my oncoming embarrassment and looked at my new message.

Private Number: “Oh, r u planning on going anywhere today?”

Jake: “Yeah, not that I’d tell you.”

Private Number: “R u out now?”

Jake: “Maybe.”

Private Number: “Where?”

Jake: “bus stop.”

Private Number: “Going where?”

I put my phone away. I didn’t want to tell him where I was going. Any time away from him was now special.

“Protective girlfriend?” A low voice next to me asked in amusement.

I looked to my right to see Spike Guy smirking at me. Um, had he ever heard of common courtesy? You don’t just look at other people’s texts. “Uh, yeah.” I said.

“Hmm.” He said in reply, afterward turning his gaze away from me.

I felt my phone vibrate again. I sighed, and then took it out to look at it.

Private Number: “Where. Are. You. Going?”

Jake: “To. A. Place.”

I put my phone in my jacket pocket and put my head back up. Spike Guy looked away when I did so. Was the damn guy looking at my texts again? I wanted to ask this guy what the hell he was doing looking at my texts. “Um, excuse me, but-” My phone rang.

I took out my phone to see Private Number on the screen. I suppressed an irritated sigh and answered. “What?” I asked.

Astly’s disguised voice answered. “Where the hell are you going? I’ll --”

“Don’t call me.” I said curtly before hanging up. I didn’t want to give him enough time to throw the ‘I’ll kill someone’ threat. But why did it matter so much to him? Oh, maybe it was because he was an obsessive stalker.

I put my phone back down. I saw Spike guy smirking out of the corner of my eye. Could he just back the hell off!?

My phone vibrated. I rolled my eyes, suppressing the need to cuss out my phone and violently throw it into the road.

Private Number: “Jake! This is really important that you tell me where the hell you’re going! It could be dangerous!”

Jake: “Public places aren’t normally dangerous.”

Private Number: “You were almost fucking killed in a public park just yesterday!!!!”

Ugh, not again. I knew it happened just yesterday, but could he just drop it!?

Jake: “I’m going to the damn mall! There you fucking go! I’ll be fine!” I texted him angrily, giving in to his insane overprotectiveness.

I looked to my right to see Spike Guy leaning over on my side, giving me a weird look. I snapped; who the fuck did he think he was!? “Excuse me, but my texts are private. Could you focus your attention somewhere else?”

The Spike Guy, to my irritation, just smiled condescendingly. “Sorry, it’s just not every day you get to see an interesting argument between couples.”

I forced myself to stay calm. It was all right; this guy didn’t know that Astly was a senseless stalker. I just nodded in reply.

“I think I read something interesting though.” Spike Guy mused. “Didn’t ‘the killer’ Kyle Wolice just get caught yesterday at the park, after being found unconscious?” He gave me a polite smile that was lined with underlying evil.

I smiled nervously. “Yeah, weird right? But my… girlfriend, was just talking about when we were at the park yesterday morning and I was jumping off of stuff…she’s really protective."

“Huh, yeah.” Spike Guy said with a, still polite/evil, smile.

My phone vibrated. I, for once, felt glad that it Astly decided to bitch just then.

Private Number: “What line are you on!?”

Jake: “816.”

I replied, turning away from Spike Guy, whom I noticed was still looking at my texts.

I put my phone down once I finished texting back, and then leaned back against the seat. I heard a phone vibrate again. I went to pick up mine, but then noticed that it was Spike Guy’s phone. Hmph, let’s see how he liked getting his texts looked at.

Card Collector: “What bus-line are you on Asshole?”

Spike Guy answered 816, then shut off his phone.

…Weird coincidence. Yeah, coincidence. Even though the timing would make sense for Astly to text me then him… No, my luck might have been shitty, but not that shitty.

When my phone vibrated. I tensed…the timing was still perfect.

Private Number: “Jake, take a different line.  No joke. I mean it. Go.”

…Well, fuck. I stared at my phone blankly. Unfortunately for me, so was Spike Guy. I looked over to him slowly. He was smiling.

“Well… it’s almost like the same person is texting us.” Spike Guy said, looking me in the eyes. His green eyes held some kind of weird sadistic joy in them.

“Y-yeah…super weird…” I said, intimidated.

His smile stayed glued onto his face. “Extremely weird. Perhaps your ‘girlfriend’ isn’t who she seems, huh?” He said.

No way. My luck just couldn’t be this godamn bad. Of all of the shitty flukes, why did I have to meet thethird murderer terrorizing this town in less than a month?!

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Boom! :D it's finally finished! SO many amazing comments.nmnay of them being for me to update XD Which was what got me rollin' with this (otherwise I would have sat on my lazy butt for another few weeks without updating). Chapter 10 is already started btw! I'm trying to get ch. 10 out faster!

And yeeesh 0_0 1.5k reads is REALLY much for me (as well as 30+ comments!)... At first I was like "1,000 reads!!! :,D Ima die happy!" ...then it went up and up and up (it means a lot to me). XD it makes me feel like a celebrity. This story is loads of fun to write and it makes me happy that people like reading and enjoying it :D

...btw, sorry for that cliffy ( >:D trololol)

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