Deathly Secrets, Chapter II

Alina Bryant could not have been more shocked. Her hands trembled as she read and reread the note that had been placed atop her pillow. Yes, she had left her window open while she'd been away for dinner at the house of her friend, Molly Jenkins, but she hadn't expected anything to happen because of it. Summeridge was the type of town in which you could leave your house vacant and unlocked for practically an indefinite amount of time without anyone breaking in.

Smoothing out the wrinkles in the paper (since she had nothing better to do, anyways), Alina's lips moved silently as she scanned the words again.

Hello, Dear Friend. You are perhaps wondering who I am and why I am here. The answer is simple: I'm going to tear your town apart. Summeridge...such a warm, welcoming name. Well, no longer. Soon enough, Summeridge will be only a brief chapter in history.

Let's get started, shall we?  The first thing you're going to do for me is write down the names, ages (or at least approximate ages), and addresses of fifteen people in town. I know, it's a laborious task, but trust me - it's for the better. Do this for me, and I swear I won't steal from you. Yet. After you write this long list, you're going to give it to the bartender in the O'Breen Saloon.

I'm watching your every move, dearest, so don't even think about telling anyone about this. Not even the people you trust the most. If you do, I've got contacts in various towns who will kill innocent people. Just. Because. Of. You. And don't worry, sweetheart - nobody will get hurt. At least, not physically.

And don't even think about disregarding this: once you've been chosen, there's no going back.

Goodbye, my love.

Alina shivered. It would seem that she had no other choice but to write out the list that the criminal - or whoever he or she was - had requested. The note said that nobody will get physically hurt, she reminded herself. It's not like I'd be doing anything that would kill anyone - and if I don't do this, people will certainly be killed.

Alina bit her lip, lit a candle, and found a few spare sheets of paper. Dipping her pen in the ink, she began her dastardly task.

The End

163 comments about this story Feed