The Lovely Miss Veronica SandersonMature

            A young woman stood in the doorway of an empty dormitory. Beside her, Gregory Fenton was standing with his arms resting on his hips, a blank expression on his face.

            "I haven't been here in a few years," her voice was sweet, "Not since I graduated."

            "Hmmm," the cop replied, idly looking around the room. He spotted the trash can, and emptied it into the bed.

            Meanwhile, the woman sat down at the room's desk, and opened the laptop that was there. It had been on standby, and hummed to life the instant it was open. The webcam stared her down, from the top of the screen where it was mounted. Let's see what you've left running, sister.


            "Anything, officer?"

            "Not yet," he said, as he riffled through the trash. "Tell me if you find any clues. If anyone has contacted your sister, if there's evidence that might foreshadow her disappearance, we have to know." He paused, noticing she was intently focused on the computer, "Veronica?"

            "Sir, am I allowed to read my sister's instant messages?"

            "I don't see why not, given the circumstances," Greg said as he got up from where he was knelt over the bed, and approached the digital answering machine on the desk beside the laptop. He pressed 'Inbox', next to the changing digits '03'.


            Gregory Fenton grinned, broadly.

            "One new message, two saved." A monotone, electronic voice.

            The officer's finger hit the button with the sideways isosceles triangle on it, the universal symbol for 'Play'.

            "Today, 3:46 PM."


            A male voice, recorded, took over, "Hey Brittany, it's Joe. Sorry about what I did, the week before last. I know, I've left you two calls so far. And honestly, I'm sorry. I did what I did because I love you, and I want you to know that. However, if we're through - I understand. You can just disappear from my life. That's fine with me, darling."


            "Darling!?" Veronica was surprised, and turned to Greg. A boyfriend? Mom and Dad would be furious!

            Gregory Fenton had an equally puzzled look on his face, because he recognized the voice, "Joe... Joe... Joe... Tayna! I know this kid!"

            Veronica looked past him, and spotted something plastic, a blue and white strip in the trash. She pointed, "Pass me that strip, will you?"

            Greg picked it up, examined it briefly with a clueless expression, and passed it to Veronica.

            Veronica looked down at the strip, "Pregnant."

            The thick eyebrows of Officer Fenton furrowed, "Stop looking through her recent chat logs. Pull up her list of blocked contacts, and read me the names you get."

            "Four in total," she began. "Allstar eighty-seven at Gmail dot com, muaddib seven-seven-seven at Hotmail dot com, I underscore Got underscore Mo underscore Joe underscore sixty-nine at Hotmail dot--"

            "Pull his logs up," Greg interrupted. "The third."

            "She blocked this contact thirteen days ago. Their last few instant messages are six hours earlier."

            He kept looking at the test, wondering why he had not noticed it at first graze through the trash. "Read their last conversation, from the start."

            "Hey sweetie." Veronica was hesitant, as if she still could not justify to herself why she was reading her younger sister's messages.

            On a whim, Greg looked over her shoulder and read the next line, "Hey darling."

            "H-How are you?"

            "Oh, fantastic. I've got something for you. Want to come over?"

            "Ooh, sounds fun. I'll be right over. Tee tee wye ell." She paused, "Sir, that's short for 'talk to you later'. And that's how it ends."

            Gregory Fenton's eyes were glazed over, as if spellbound. He put a hand on Veronica's pantyhose.

            "W-Well, we've stumbled upon quite the --" She looked at him, confused. What the heck is he doing? "I'm flattered, officer, but please--"

            His hand moved up her leg, and began to tug at her pantyhose. The other hand danced against her lower back, with an erratic rhythm.

            "Please stop, officer."

            The webcam continued to stare at them, ominously.

            "You look so much like your sister."

            "You've never seen my sister!" she raised her voice, as he pulled her out of the chair. "Stop! No, get off me!"

            He let out a feral snarl, and pushed her against the bed.


            Gregory Fenton, not in control of his own actions, closed the dormitory door. He pushed the button on the knob to lock it. And then he pushed her back against the bed. And, as Veronica Sanderson began to scream, helplessly, the officer unzipped his pants.

            "Stop!" she screamed, staring directly into his eyes. Dark, like marbles... what cruel demons possess this man? Is this school as haunted as it was when I was a student? Damn it! The exorcisms failed!

            He looked down on her, grinning as he forcefully pried her undergarments from her flailing legs. His chest, now naked, exposed a sculpted build. A hairy, muscular chest.

            "Stop, I said stop! Stop, Joe!" Veronica yelled, not sure why she had just called him Joe. This is great, this guy is good at what he's doing - why am I even protesting?

            "Uuuh," he groaned, thrusting faster into her. "Brittany, you're an angel!"

            "Stop, Joe, for the last time! Stop it!" I've lost control of my body! And... this is how it happened.

            With great force, Gregory tore open her shirt, and continued to plunge in and out of her. He stared down at her naked breasts, watching them bounce as her arms flailed against his mighty , heaving, chest.

            "Ahhh!" Veronica screamed, sounding in pain yet feeling veritable pleasure. What crude devilry is this?

            He continued, for the better part of an hour. And when she let out her final moan, and he his final groan, he walked over to the webcam and shut it off. And then, Gregory Fenton fell against the chair in exhaustion. His head turned, to the bed, his thick brow furrowed in utter confusion. He did not seem to know why he was half-naked and dripping musky fluids, nor why she was naked, smiling, on the bed. "What just happened?"

            "I think you just found some evidence," she said, glad that she had regained the use of her voice.

The End

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