Ariella wandered for God knows how long, blind to every thought and feeling that ever once existed in her.
Her mind submerged in an absolute daze, hands and shirt blotched with blood, eyes glazed with shock and hair thoroughly disheveled—Ariella’s legs throbbed painfully as she walked the town of Gates Mill, marching past the university and heading up a grassy hill toward the back road. She couldn’t know she was being followed, and couldn’t care less. Nothing mattered…
Ariella let her pastor die all over again.
Stabbed, tied up, crucified… and burned… Julian, dead… all her friends, probably dead…
Not a damn thing in the world mattered anymore—except the peculiar dark feeling festering in her gut, a sensation deeper, and stronger, and wickeder than any other she’d ever felt before, fighting to break free, a longing for vengeance, a deep, gnawing lust to kill whoever dared to cross the family of Ariella Callaghan.
Though her mind was much too deep in its foggy, hazy state, any thoughts of revenge or any feelings of remorse put entirely on hold as she meandered blindly under the night sky, under the canopy of trees, time passing her by…
Cutthroat stayed a fair distance behind her, treading as lightly as he possibly could, eyeing her from behind and wondering what she could’ve been feeling right now. Cutthroat himself was well accustomed to death, but even he was shocked to see the church go up in flames. For someone like Ariella—someone half his age, who wasn’t a killer, and who might’ve just lost all her friends in this tragedy—he couldn’t fathom what must’ve been coursing through her now.
Unless she was anything like him.
If Ariella was anything like Cutthroat, then she’d be succumbing to a deep craving for revenge right about now.
Cutthroat narrowed his eyes curiously at her in the distance, slowing to a stop and allowing her to venture farther ahead. He had a pretty good idea of where she was going now, and he needn’t tread too close.
Ariella eventually reached the hole in the shrubbery, leading up the steep hill to Rodney’s airstream. She wandered mindlessly up the wide dirt path, approaching his trailer and sinking to the ground in front of it, not bothering to knock on his door at this hour.
She hadn’t the faintest idea of why her feet carried her here, but she spared it no thought… it didn’t matter…
Ariella flumped onto her back, staring vacantly up at the night sky as the blades of grass poked her gently behind the ears, her hand still tucked inside her pocket, still clamped around the handle of her pocketknife.
For a long swath of time, which might have been minutes, or might have been hours, she merely lay there, waiting for the moment when her emotions would return, when everything would hit her full-force, when she would finally shatter into a thousand pieces, as it seemed she was always destined to do.
Julian, cut up and left to die… Arkus, left to perish in the fire… Tammy and Jaxson, and all the people from her school, everyone who followed Julian and the Gates Mill Gate Keepers… all of them, gone, in one fell swoop.
Why?
What damned good did it do?
Even the Cutthroat Killer had reasons for his dastardly actions—but what would be accomplished by setting fire to a church and every innocent person inside?
Was Zane truly so wicked, so sadistic, that he simply wanted to hurt or kill everyone just for the fun of it?
The thought of Zane put a wretched knot in her stomach, her teary eyes burning a fiery blue behind watery lenses, teeth clenching as she slid the knife from her pocket. She flipped it open without thinking, holding it upside-down and absentmindedly stabbing the ground beside her—harder and harder, blade puncturing the dirt, scraping against rocks underground, penetrating the earth repeatedly, just as she would Zane if she ever saw him again.
I’ll kill him, Ariella decided, every other thought and every other feeling miles away from her now, her heart thrashing with fury as she stabbed the gound angrily. To hell with legality, and to hell with having a future. Nothing mattered. Nothing mattered except righting the wrongs done to her and her loved ones.
Zane would perish at her hand—that she knew for certain now.
Ariella gave the ground a final stab, letting the blade rest there, clasping the handle and recalling a horrific memory—one she usually fought to avoid, though now, the memory was playing through her mind on repeat, so vivid, so very lucid, and she couldn’t think why she ever tried to avoid it before.
In retrospect, it was a wonderful memory.
Not the moment when Eddie died—but the moment just after, when Vance Callaghan burst into the home as her savior, face stern and gun drawn, the deafening BANGs that echoed throughout the Grant home as Vance’s bullets tore through Eliza like tissue paper. She’d never forget the earsplitting noise, the floor shaking once as Eliza’s useless, lifeless body hit the tiles right beside her dead husband, just as she deserved.
“I wish she was dead,” Ariella murmured aloud, staring into the dark sky, feeling as if she could see Eddie’s green gaze staring back at her. “We’d all be happier if she was dead…”
Truly, she never knew for certain if she’d actually meant that statement—but now, after all this time, she knew full well that she stood by it, even if they were just the thoughtless words of a dysfunctional, traumatized, and helpless little eight-year-old girl.
Because now, all these years later, she felt just the same—only this time, the feeling was far stronger, much deeper, engrained in her in a way she could scantly comprehend, erasing nearly every other thought and notion from her being.
Perhaps Cutthroat simply had the right idea.
The world was simply better off without some people—and people like Eliza and Zane fell hard into that broken, disgusting, and evil category.
There was no telling if the police would ever catch up with Zane; he seemed intelligent, even though he was a lunatic. He was probably capable of covering his tracks to some extent, and if he succeeded in that, then the police would never pin him for the crimes.
But even if they did—even if they found enough evidence to prosecute him, and even if they managed to hunt him down—would he be found guilty? Would he actually serve life in prison? Would he be released from captivity someday, allowed to walk free and enact havoc on the world once more?
The thought of that eventual possibility made her feel a horrid rising nausea, as well as an overwhelming wave of anger, a white hot sensation of indignation that ate away at every inch of her, burning her and gnawing at her, making her feel as if no justice had ever existed in the world at all.
But—there would be no possibility of Zane ever obtaining freedom if he died here and now.
Ariella glared into the sky, thoroughly possessed by a deep, dark ambition that felt to be guiding her every move.
Then, she lumbered to her feet, wandering dazedly over to Rodney’s front door and pulling her keys from her pants pocket, inserting the ones Rodney had made for her her weeks ago. After unlocking the door’s multiple locks, she pulled it open as quietly as possible, climbing inside and eyeing the dark interior of the airstream, her eyes landing on the gun case.
Ariella approached it, grabbing the lock on the gun case and staring down at it expressionlessly, plotting exactly how she’d break it off of the fixture.
Rodney jumped; he inhaled sharply, hearing a noise and grabbing his revolver from his small nightstand, his heart suddenly racing. He slid to the edge of his bed and swiftly reached his feet with the agility of a man half his age, pulling the hammer back and inching down the small hallway, his eyes locked on the dark figure standing on the opposite end of the airstream.
Ariella heard the click of the hammer, slowly turning and meeting his gaze with a cold, deadened stare.
Rodney’s eyes locked with hers, and he recognized her instantly. He released a massive cloud of breath, lowering his gun and shooting her a bizarre look.
“Jesus Christ alive,” he breathed. “You scared the hell out of me… what’re you doing here?”
“I need the keys,” Ariella murmured in a faint, raspy voice, gently jiggling the lock on the gun case. “Please…”
Rodney narrowed his eyes at her, stepping closer and examining her intently, his eyes venturing up and down, noting her disheveled appearance. He reached over to the wall and flipped one of his lights on, surveying her more clearly and spotting the smears of blood on her hands and arms.
“Jesus,” Rodney gasped, setting his gun down and placing a hand on her shoulder. “What happened? Who hurt you?”
Ariella mildly shook her head, jiggling the lock again. “I need the keys…”
“ Look at me,” Rodney said firmly, clasping her face and leveling her eyes with his. “Tell, me, what, happened .”
“I’ll tell them I stole it,” Ariella whispered softly. “I’ll tell them I stole one of your guns… so you won’t…”
“ Ariella ,” Rodney said, raising his voice. “Tell me what happened— now .”
Ariella’s mind felt to be floating far from the here and now, her eyes vacant and dead, her body and senses moving on autopilot. Her gaze wandered over to the side, where Rodney had placed his revolver on the table beside the door.
She reached for the gun without thinking—
Rodney quickly grasped her wrist and guided her backward.
“Uhn-uhn. No. Sit down.” He pushed her toward the couch, forcing her to sit and hunching on his knee in front of her. “Tell me what happened.”
Ariella’s nails dug into her knees, hands shaking, a metallic stink radiating off them.
“I’m gonna kill him,” she breathed.
“Kill who?” Rodney asked. “What happened? ”
“Zane lit the church on fire,” Ariella exhaled. “He cut my… pastor… and left him down there to die. I couldn’t save him… again…”
“God almighty—did you call the cops?!” Rodney barked.
“Yeah… the cops are there,” Ariella nodded. “I heard them…”
“Well—what—what happened after?”
“I don’t know… I just… walked here…”
“Whose blood is all over you?”
“Ed… ahm… Julian’s. I tried… I tried to get him, but I had to get away from the fire… I couldn’t… I still couldn’t fucking…”
Ariella felt the despair rising up, shaking her head and forcing it down with all her might. She set her furious teary gaze on Rodney’s eyes, a searing blue stare connecting them.
“I’m gonna kill him,” Ariella glowered with serpentine rasp. “I am… going to… kill him .”
Rodney returned her profound glare, his hand gently clasping one of hers, reading every inch of her broken visage and feeling a grave, terrible sensation overcome him.
“No,” he said, shaking his head at her. “No, you’re not.”
“Yes… I am ,” Ariella insisted. “That’s all I want… that’s all I want …”
“I know… I know,” Rodney assured, his voice soft and his brows raising. “I know, I understand… but your life would be over—”
“ I don’t care! ” Ariella hissed. “I’m done! He’s dead —I’m gonna kill him! ”
Rodney gave her a conflicted look, grasping her arms and wondering how to convince her.
And as the two of them maintained a heated stare—and as Cutthroat watched the airstream from the sidelines of the trees far down the hill—each heart pounded, each mind racing, a deep, dreadful feeling of an oncoming storm overtaking them all.
“You’re talking the way the Cutthroat Killer would talk,” Rodney told her, stroking her arms with his thumbs. “Is that what you want? You wanna end up like him?”
“Well—yeah, maybe I do!” Ariella proclaimed. “He’s not even wrong! Why the hell are we even trying to stop him?!”
“He is wrong,” Rodney stated, his teeth grinding. “Doing what he does isn’t the answer.”
“ Why not? !”
“ Because look at what he did to me! ”
Rodney ripped his crooked button-up’s collar, revealing his crooked scar to her in full.
Ariella gaped at him, her heart skipping painfully, suddenly speechless.
“Do I deserve to die? You tell me that,” Rodney challenged. “In all the time you’ve known me—do you think I deserve to die?”
“No,” Ariella croaked weakly. “When did he… why did he…?”
“It was a long time ago,” Rodney told her. “And I assure you—I have never done anything like what his other victims have. He might look like a glorious antihero to you, killing abusers and molesters and what have you—but he’s still just another goddamn monster.”
“Why would he attack you…?” Ariella murmured.
“I saw him,” Rodney rumbled. “I saw his first murder… a very long time ago. He’s not some crusader for justice. He’s just trying to get away with it like everyone else who runs around killing people. And I’ll be damned if you’re gonna go down the same damn path as him.”
“You were a witness,” Ariella uttered. “You… did you really see him kill Mary Goldwater…?”
“ Look at me,” Rodney said sternly, giving her a slight shake. “You will not go down that path. Tell me right now—say it—say you will not go down that path.”
Ariella stared into him, his worrisome visage and his almost frantic lack of composure. She couldn’t fathom it, didn’t understand why he seemed to care so much…
Still, if Rodney himself was nearly killed by the Cutthroat Killer once before, then perhaps it made perfect sense. If he truly viewed her as family, then of course he wouldn’t want her to become anything like the man who’d nearly killed him.
Ariella hung her head, her anger deflating, feeling like an empty shell of a human being.
“I’m sorry…” she exhaled.
Rodney sat beside her, scooping her into his arms and embracing her tightly. He rested his chin on her head, his expression stonier than ever.
“You’re gonna stay right here… and we’ll figure it out,” he whispered. “I’m gonna contact your father and figure it out from there. All right?”
Ariella nodded into him, her tears staining his collar.
“Everything’s gonna be all right,” Rodney assured in a soft, comforting voice. “I’ll make sure of that… however I can…”
Just then, his phone began to ring from the back room. Rodney sighed, patting her on the head before venturing down the hall and grabbing the phone from his nightstand. He returned to the main room, stopping at the front door and gently pushing it open, gazing outside as he answered the phone call.
“Oy!” Arkus’s shaking voice exploded into Rodney’s ear. “Hey—mate—have you seen Ari?! Me and Vance have been driving all over the damn place lookin’ for her—the church caught on fire and the firemen didn’t find her inside—”
“Yeah… she’s here, Scotty,” Rodney replied calmly, leaning on the door’s frame and glaring fixedly into the night, his face dark and stoic, his eyes locked on a figure far down the hill.
Cutthroat leaned on a tree at the bottom of the hill, mostly hidden in the shadows of the woods. Rodney was far away, but he stood stock still in the airstream’s doorway far above, leaning on the door’s frame, staring down the hill— glaring directly at him .
Even at such a great distance, Cutthroat knew for certain that he was locking eyes with the man up the hill. He remained eerily still for a moment, returning the distant glare and inhaling a deep, heavy breath.
Spotting the phone in Rodney’s hand, Cutthroat quickly moved backward, vanishing into the darkness and turning to flee the scene.
“Oh, thank fucking God —is she okay?!” Arkus yelled into Rodney’s ear.
Rodney leered down the hill with an emotionless visage, eyes dark and cold, staring at the woods even after the figure disappeared.
“She’s fine… she’s safe,” Rodney assured, his voice a low, angry rasp, his hand resting on the table beside him, fingers coiling around the cold metal of the revolver under his grasp. “She’s always safe here.”
“Okay—mate—listen,” Arkus panted. “I’m on my way there. Julian’s in the ER right now—they barely got him out in time. Nobody died, which is a fuckin’ miracle. Tell her that for me, please? I don’t want her to think we all died in there.”
Rodney nodded mildly as he continued staring into the darkness. “I will.”
“Aye—good. Seeya soon.”
“Seeya.”
They hung up, Rodney sliding his phone into his pocket. He gave one final stare to the trees down the hill, then pulled the door shut and turned all of his locks.
Then, he faced Ariella again, who was now laying across the couch, curled up and staring directly forward into nothingness. Rodney grabbed his revolver and carried it over to the desk, placing it down and sinking into the rolling chair across from her.
“Ariella,” he said gently. “Everybody’s alive.”
Ariella blinked, her eyes flickering up to his.
Rodney flashed a smirk. “Everybody’s alive. All your friends got out—and they got your pastor out, too.”
Ariella pushed herself upright, staring in disbelief, her eyes igniting with a sudden burst of life.
“Are you serious …?” she breathed.
Rodney grinned and nodded, pleased to see the light returning to her eyes.
Ariella choked out a sobbing laugh, scooting forward and yanking him into a hug, feeling utterly rushed with relief. Rodney laughed and patted her on the back.
“There, now… everything’s all right. And listen,” he said, separating from her. “Whatever happens, whenever they eventually get Zane, and this whole thing goes to court… I’ll stand by you guys, and I’ll speak on your behalf, all right? It’s all gonna get dealt with. Everything’s gonna be fine.”
“Okay,” Ariella nodded and smiled, wiping her tears away. “Okay…”
It wasn’t long before they both heard the blaring sound of a car’s horn echoing from outside. Rodney stood and unlocked his door, he and Ariella stepping outside, seeing Arkus’s pickup truck parked crookedly in the yard, its headlights washing over the two of them.
Arkus and Vance leaped out of the front seats, Tammy and Jaxson scrambling out of the back—all of them rushing toward Ariella with haste.
Arkus snapped her into a hug almost violently, squeezing her so tightly, she could hardly breathe. “Jesus fuck… you scared the hell outta me! ”
Vance pulled her into a tight embrace as well, Tammy and Jaxson taking turns doing the same. Ariella hugged them all, Rodney watching from a few feet away, folding his arms and smiling at their reunion.
“Ari—Ari, listen,” Arkus breathed excitedly, grabbing her arms and beaming madly at her. “Me and Jax both saw him—we both saw him wearing the skull mask. The same one from his YouTube channel. That’s enough for the cops to issue a warrant! Oh—and Julian—guess what the EMTs said?! They said he would’ve died if you didn’t tie up his stomach! He would’ve bled to death if you didn’t find him down there! You literally saved his life! ”
“Holy crap, dude—take a breath,” Jaxson snickered. “You talk faster than I think.”
“Well… to be fair, that’s really not saying much,” Tammy snarked, Jaxson flattening his smile and brandishing a middle finger directly in front of her face.
Ariella felt her heart rising from a deep dark pit, as everything that she thought hopelessly ruined turned out to be miraculously all right; everyone had survived, the police actively pursuing Zane, Julian safe and sound in the hospital, and her family standing right here—all very much alive. She beamed with delight, tears rolling down her cheeks as she began yanking them all into another round of hugs.
Vance then placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a stern stare. “Why did you run off?”
“I d… I don’t know,” Ariella replied truthfully, shrugging and gesturing loosely to Rodney and his trailer. “I just felt… safe… coming here. Zane doesn’t know about this place, so…”
Vance slowly nodded, his eyes moving over to Rodney. He stepped past his daughter and offered his hand to the psychology professor.
“I appreciate you looking after her tonight,” Vance disclosed. “Thank you.”
Rodney nodded, returning his handshake. “No problem.”
Vance met his eyes briefly, his head beginning to ache. He turned to his daughter again.
“Are you good to come home?” Vance asked. “You need a shower.”
“Thanks,” Ariella snarked, smacking his arm. “You stink, too.”
“No—I mean—you’re covered in blood.”
“I know what you meant, dingus.”
Vance scoffed out a laugh, shifting her hairs aside and giving Rodney a goodbye wave.
Everyone said their goodbyes to the psychology professor before climbing into the truck. Arkus drove in a slow circle before coasting smoothly down the dirt driveway. Rodney watched them until they were far out of sight, his stony grimace returning, glaring into the darkened trees even long after the pickup truck was gone.
But contrary to Rodney’s lingering gaze—Cutthroat was far from the professor’s home now.
The killer returned to his shack late on this frightful evening, running his fingers over the rusted branch-saw on his table, his eyes venturing over to his board of trophies and targets. Only two names remained on the bottom, two more victims he intended to claim soon.
The man who witnessed his beginning—and the childish copycat who was now dragging his message through the mud.
Cutthroat tapped his finger to the name on the bottom, the name Zane , glaring into it hatefully and replaying the image of the church burning through his mind.
All those people, so close to dying—and all for no reason.
If the recent post on the Gates Mill Gate Keepers website was correct—and if Zane truly was trying to write his own legacy on the bandwagon of the Cutthroat Killer—then he would soon be put out of commission.
After all, Cutthroat had been following all the Gate Keepers closely online; he’d seen Zane’s little YouTube channel, Zane brandishing the hood and mask he wore in all his videos online—the same outfit he wore when he sprinted out of the church earlier this evening.
Rodney was an expert at eluding him, moving out to the middle of nowhere and keeping a weapon within his reach at all times—but this Zane kid was an amateur at best. He’d already gotten sloppy—and now, Cutthroat vowed that he would die before his arrest.
The amateur would die at the hands of the greatest hunter of all.
Vance drove everyone home—he, Arkus, and Ariella collapsing on the couch and beds the moment they returned to the house, instantly falling into a restless, but much-needed sleep.
They all awoke early the next day, feeling frantic with the terrible excitement of the previous evening still fresh on their minds. None of them watched the most recent news broadcast about the burning of the church; they didn’t need to be reminded of the horrors they witnessed firsthand. Besides, the three of them had far more important things to deal with today; they all felt primed with passion on this day, heated and inspired to take action against the skull-faced killer who burned Gates Mill Church of God.
Lumis prepared Max’s backpack and sent him off to the bus stop, then silently returned to bed, not bothering to speak with Vance as he usually would. From the murder of his wife to the troubling coincidences surrounding their recent investigations, Lumis spent much of his time lying on the cot inside Vance’s storage room, glaring up at the ceiling as his mind quietly worked up a storm.
Vance didn’t mind giving him his space; his day was positively filled with tasks to complete.
Ariella and Arkus chose not to attend their classes today. After showering and eating, they decided to ride around with Vance as they all ventured off to complete their errands. Vance had a few leads in mind to chase, and the police were still searching high and low for Zane—but first, they all had a stop to make at Gates Mill Medical Center.
The three of them decided to take the pickup truck, and Vance parked the truck in the overcrowded parking lot, all of them stepping out and gazing up at the hospital hesitantly. Ariella gulped as she stared up at the towering white building, feeling anxious, Arkus stroking her tenderly on the back.
“We’re two friends and a private investigator,” Vance muttered, standing alongside them. “I don’t know if they’ll let us in to see him. We’re not immediate family, and I’m not a cop.”
“I don’t think he even has a family,” Arkus remarked.
“Yes the hell he does,” Ariella stated, marching forward briskly. “Come on.”
Arkus and Vance traded a subtle glimpse before following after her.
“So… I’ve got a question,” Arkus said, squinting over at the PIas they walked. “If Lumis isn’t giving you orders anymore, and if he’s not even on half these cases now… then… why’re you still so…?”
“Because I’m not in it for the money—nor does my livelihood rely on it,” Vance told him firmly. “I’m just doing things that need to be done.”
Arkus raised his brows, nodding sideways in agreement.
Ariella stormed into the sliding glass doors, marching across the waiting room and approaching the front desk with haste. Vance and Arkus joined her, Ariella eyeballing the woman behind the counter, who was deeply immersed in her cellphone conversation.
When the secretary finally hung up, she turned and gave them an expectant look.
“I’m here to see Julian Kelsey,” Ariella said. “Where is he?”
“Name?” the woman replied, preparing to write on a clipboard.
“Ariella Kelsey,” Ariella lied. “His sister.”
The woman narrowed her eyes at Ariella, then jotted the name down. She then gave a nod to Vance and Arkus.
“Er…” Arkus stammered, looking to Vance.
“Vance Kelsey,” Vance said. “Father. And this is Arkus Kelsey—my adopted son. We’re the family. We need to see him.”
The woman wrote all their names down, then rolled over to her computer. After clicking away on her mouse a few times, she met Ariella’s gaze again.
“Fifth floor, room nineteen,” the woman informed.
“Thank you,” Ariella concluded, leading her family toward the nearest hallway.
The three of them stepped into the nearest elevator, riding it to the fifth floor. After searching the polished white hallways for a while, they found room nineteen, Ariella placing her hand to the door, biting her lip and feeling another pinch of hesitation.
“What?” Arkus asked.
“He’s gonna be mad at me,” Ariella mumbled. “I left him down there…”
Arkus laughed, clasping her shoulder and giving her a deep stare. “Ari—Julian doesn’t even get mad when he should get mad, and the EMTs said you’re the only reason he didn’t bleed to death in the basement. He’s not gonna be mad at you for that.”
“Ari,” Vance said softly. “I need to talk to him… but, if you want… you can go in by yourself first. We’ll wait.”
“Aye, we’ll wait,” Arkus nodded and patted her on the back. “Go on. Go ahead.”
Ariella took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
“Yes?” someone said from inside. It was Julian’s voice, though it sounded incredibly faint, like it was a football field away.
Ariella sighed and walked inside. The hospital room was spotless, as was the rest of the place, with neat white tiles and light gray walls. There was a television in the corner playing soap operas, and beside Julian’s hospital bed was a small table with a surgical tray and a carton of milk, as well as the pastor’s glasses. Julian’s long black hair was tied into a low ponytail behind his head, and he was lying under a thin blue blanket, his hands intertwined, his eyelids heavy. Ariella couldn’t tell if his tired expression was due to pain or exhaustion, thought she guessed it was probably both.
Arkus and Vance lingered outside the door, allowing her to approach the pastor alone.
Julian’s head slumped over, his bleary eyes gazing up at her. “Hey… my guardian angel…”
Ariella didn’t respond right away. Julian’s voice was soft—so soft, she could barely hear him—and it was scratchy and rough as if he’d swallowed gravel.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “I mean… more or less.”
“Yeah,” Julian exhaled, gently patting his stomach. “They closed me up. I’ll be fine after a while. I just have to let it heal.”
Ariella stood quietly, trying to think of what to say next, but nothing came to mind.
Julian seemed to be staring at her, or at least, she thought he was. He appeared to be having a hard time keeping his eyes open.
“Why do you look so miserable?” he asked with such sincerity, it made her heart ache.
“That’s a stupid question,” Ariella replied.
Julian tried to laugh, then winced. “Yes… I suppose it is.”
“I’m sorry,” Ariella told him. “I didn’t even notice you were gone until…”
“Are you apologizing to me?” Julian asked, his voice hitting a high note, sounding astonished.
Ariella frowned sadly at him.
“Come here,” he requested, reaching out his hand.
Ariella took it, and Julian squeezed her hand as tightly as he could manage, his fingers cold to the touch. He forced himself fully awake, giving her a stern, serious look.
“Don’t put this on yourself,” he told her, trying to strengthen his tone. “Don’t you ever put all this on yourself. You didn’t hurt me, did you? No, you didn’t—which means it’s not your fault. You saved my life. Don’t ever think that you did anything wrong here, all right?”
Ariella gave him a wounded smile, holding back tears.
“Did I forget to say thank you?” Julian asked. “Well… thank you, Ari. Honestly, truly, thank you . You are amazing .”
“Stop it,” Ariella chuckled painfully, wiping a tear away.
“I’m sorry… I’m on a lot of painkillers…” Julian mumbled.
“How can… how can you just be happy right now?” Ariella muttered in disbelief, swallowing a sob. “God, if… if somebody left me to die inside a burning building, I’d be so mad…”
“Ari… the whole freaking building was on fire,” Julian moaned. “Seriously… running and burning to death were your only two options…”
Ariella choked out a laugh, tightening her grasp on his hand.
“I said a prayer… hanging from the pillars… and then…” Julian rasped. “In you came…”
“I told you,” Ariella whimpered, her voice quivering. “I told you I wouldn’t let…”
“Come here,” Julian weakly waved her toward him. “I want a hug… I don’t care if it hurts, just… come’ere…”
Ariella leaned down, embracing him as gently as she could. The two of them shared a hug for a moment, and when she straightened up, she cleared her throat and motioned to the door.
“Arkus and my dad are here,” she said. “You ready to see ‘em?”
“Sure, sure,” Julian nodded.
Ariella hollered for the two of them to enter, Vance and Arkus strolling into the hospital room. Vance closed and locked the door, Arkus cocking his head and observing the machine and the IVs posted next to Julian’s hospital bed, revealing a toothy grin.
“Ahhh… they’re giving you the good stuff,” Arkus chuckled. “Lucky bastard.”
The three of them laughed.
Vance stepped forward, stopping beside the bed. “Sorry. I hate to bother you right now, but I just need to ask you a few questions.”
“Of course… no problem,” Julian agreed.
“What did you see?” Vance asked. “What do you remember?”
Julian took a moment to think. “I was cleaning… and, when I started mopping the kitchen floor, I ran out of bleach. So, I went to the back hallway. I was about to go upstairs to the supply closet, but someone grabbed me from behind, and… put a knife to my throat.”
Ariella, Arkus, and Vance listened closely, all of them looking grim.
“This person took me to the basement. I didn’t see him clearly until we were down there already. I shoved him and started to run, but he tackled me from behind, and he dragged his blade across my stomach. I tried to scream, but he covered my mouth. Then, I started bleeding a lot, and… I guess I… didn’t have the energy to fight anymore. He strung me up, picked up a gas can from the basement floor, and went on his way.”
“What did he look like?” Vance inquired, though he already knew the answer.
“He had on a Halloween costume,” Julian told him. “I didn’t think anything of anyone’s attire last night, since almost everyone was in costume… but this guy… he had a black cloak on with a white mask.”
“Did he speak to you at any point?” Vance asked him. “Were you able to recognize the voice?”
“No… he never spoke,” Julian said. “He didn’t say a word.”
Vance slowly nodded.
“There’s one more thing,” Julian informed, reaching for the collar of his shirt.
He unbuttoned it, pulling his shirt open and revealing his chest. The scars Ariella saw the night before were scabbed over now, but its message was still clear.
Where’s Your God Now?
Ariella, Arkus, and Vance bent over him, reading the crooked scars on Julian’s chest and exchanging grave glances with one another.
“I’m sure you know, since you’re integrated with this little friend group,” Vance said seriously. “The prime suspect is Zane—and that scar on your chest is one big connection to the previous murder. Matches almost perfectly with the death of Marissa Lumis.”
“His last name is Jackson,” Julian informed. “Zane Jackson… if that helps…”
“Jack Skullington,” Arkus murmured, trading thoughtful glimpses with Ariella. “Makes sense.”
“Zane was identified by more than one witness by the mask he wears on his YouTube channel,” Vance told the pastor. “There’s a warrant out for his arrest. Whenever he’s brought in, would you be willing to make a statement against him in court?”
“Yes,” Julian groaned, nodding mildly. “His confession alone… the one that he made to me… that by itself would make people shudder…”
“Rodney said he’d make a statement,” Ariella told her father. “He’s seen Zane act crazy before., and me and Arkus can make statements, too. Hell—Tammy and Jaxson have seen it. We could all make statements.”
“Good,” Vance nodded conclusively. “I think we’ve got him, then. Now we just have to wait for him to slip up and get caught—and hopefully the cops will find some evidence in the process. Maybe the gas can. Maybe something better.”
“God blind me!” Arkus grumbled, glaring angrily down at his phone.
Everyone stared at him.
“Sorry, sorry.” Arkus stuffed his phone away. “Tammy keeps blowing up my phone. She wants to know if we’re still going to Maria’s Halloween party tomorrow.”
“Tell her we are,” Ariella requested. “We got no reason not to.”
“Hold… hold on,” Julian mumbled, trying to raise his head. “You… you planned to go to that party months ago…”
“Yeah,” Ariella said. “So?”
“So… you made those plans when Zane was still part of the Gate Keepers,” Julian pointed out. “He knows you’re all planning to go to that party.”
There was a tense silence following these words, Vance giving Ariella and Arkus a severe sort of stare.
“It… it should be fine, right?” Ariella muttered, looking to her father. “You said we’d be fine as long as we’re together in a big crowd.”
“That’s what I thought about the lock-in,” Vance replied grimly. “But that’s clearly not the case if this little bastard is willing to set entire crowds on fire.”
“Wait—waaait, hold the phone,” Arkus said suddenly, raising his hand. “The frat boys are all gonna be there, too. Zane’s tight with the frat boys now. He wouldn’t set the place ablaze with all his frat buddies inside.”
“Yeah, and we can call Rodney and have him come to the party too,” Ariella suggested. “He can help us keep an eye on things, just in case. We’ll all watch for Zane, and we’ll call the cops if we see him.”
Vance’s eyes shifted between the two of them with skeptical concern.
“Well… sorry to have bothered you, Mr. Kelsey,” he said seconds later, reaching out to Julian and giving him a brief handshake. “We’ve got a few more places to go today. Thank you for your time.”
“Not at all,” Julian replied with a weak smile. “Drop back by whenever you like…”
“We’ll come visit ya’ again,” Arkus promised.
“Yeah, we’ll come by again soon,” Ariella told him kindly, squeezing his hand once more. “Call me if you need us.”
“Absolutely,” Julian said sincerely. “Thank you… Ari…”
They gave the pastor their goodbyes before leaving the hospital.
As Vance drove Arkus’s truck—Ariella and Arkus both seated intimately together in the passenger seat—Ariella texted Rodney, Tammy, and Jaxson to update them on the situation. Once she finished, she adjusted herself in Arkus’s lap and stared out the window, seeing that they were now driving in a neighborhood that looked vaguely familiar—a suburban place she and her friends visited once before, when the regin of the Cutthroat Killer first began.
“Um… Dad,” Ariella mumbled, turning to her father. “Where’re we going?”
“We’re gonna visit the first person Bill and I questioned when all this started,” Vance told her. “Chelsea Mendez.”
Ariella and Arkus swapped odd looks.
“You’ll see why,” Vance said, coasting up the driveway of the Mendez home and parking the truck outside of her garage.
The three of them climbed outside, Ariella and Arkus staring up at the expensive home, the yard and the porch, as well as the fence that wrapped around the pool around back—where Joseph Wick lost his life during the late-summer party months ago. The two of them recalled the night as clear as day, even though it felt like years had passed since then. They quickly snapped out of their thoughts and followed Vance to the front door.
He knocked on it loudly. Moments later, a middle-aged blonde with a cigarette answered the door, squinting strangely at the three people on her porch.
“We need to talk to Chelsea Mendez,” Vance informed. “It’s important. She’s not in any trouble—we just need to ask her a few questions.”
The blonde said nothing, nodding nonchalantly and shuffling off to find her daughter. Moments later, Chelsea Mendez sheepishly inched outside, closing the front door behind her.
“I… I already talked to the police a million times,” Chelsea mumbled, recognizing Vance instantly. “What happened now…?”
“Nothing, nothing—nothing involving you,” Vance assured. “This isn’t about Joseph. I wanted to ask you about his fraternity. You said it was Xi Phi Beta, right?”
Chelsea nodded somberly, her gaze venturing over to Ariella and Arkus. Then, her eyes lit up.
“Oooh, the Gate Keepers!” Chelsea beamed, shaking their hands vigorously. “Hi! Ohmigod—I love your podcast!”
Ariella and Arkus chuckled, nodding and thanking her for the compliment.
“Oy—if you follow the Gate Keepers, then you might know why we’re here,” Arkus told her. “You know how Zane was kicked off the show?”
Chelsea’s smile faded. “Yeah. Oh, I saw your post on the website, Ari… God, I had no idea he was so screwed up in the head…”
“Neither did we,” Ariella admitted. “Our church got set on fire last night, too. It was set on fire by a guy in a hood and a white skull mask—the same costume Zane wears on his YouTube channel now.”
The color seemed to drain from Chelsea’s face, her eyes widening. “Oh my God …”
“Aye… and Zane ended up joining Xi Phi Beta a while back,” Arkus added. “So, we were just following up on some loose bits of info…”
“Yes—and it’s possible that Zane has accomplices working for him now. Is there anything you can tell us about the fraternity?” Vance inquired. “Did Joseph ever tell you anything about it? Or did you see any of it yourself?”
Chelsea stared down at her feet, fidgeting with her sleeves and looking deeply troubled.
“You know how… you know how I said the punishments in Xi Phi Beta didn’t involve anyone’s throats being slashed?” she murmured, peering up at Vance. “Well, it… it’s actually not… totally far off from that. Joseph tried to keep his fraternity stuff secret all the time. He’d get in big trouble if he told anyone too much. But, one night… right after he rose up from being a pledge… he got super drunk, and he told me about his initiation.”
“Fraternity and sorority initiations are usually highly secretive—namely because they tend to be illegal in numerous cases,” Vance stated, Chelsea nodding in agreement.
“Yeah… the initiation used to be different back in the day. Joseph told me… years ago, they would take the highest-ranking member, and they’d have him fight the pledges one-on-one. But they had to stop doing that after someone ended up in the hospital, so… they changed the initiation to… something kind of… worse. When David and Richard took over everything, the whole fraternity got a lot meaner. They started stealing pets and farm animals from people. They tie up the animal… and the pledge has to kill it. That’s the initiation now.”
“Kill it how?” Vance asked.
Chelsea gulped, grimacing deeply. “Stabbing it to death.”
Vance, Ariella, and Arkus traded grave looks with one another.
Chelsea swallowed and continued. “Joseph didn’t know how to feel about it. He seemed like he was proud of it, but… it also kinda bothered him. David and Richard were super proud of him, though. Apparently, everyone clapped for him… when he… stabbed a puppy to death…”
“Jesus bloody Christ,” Arkus breathed.
“So it’s a brotherhood of bullies nowadays,” Vance synopsized. “And if a sociopath took on leadership of the place…”
“Oh God ,” Chelsea exhaled, shuddering at the thought. “I can’t imagine what they’d do…”
“I don’t think we have to imagine,” Vance mumbled darkly. “Well… thank you for your time, Miss Mendez.”
They gave her their farewells, Chelsea marching back into the house as the three of them returned to the truck. Ariella made herself comfortable on Arkus’s lap again, looking over to the driver seat just in time to see Vance flash a snide smirk, pulling a tape recorder from his pocket and hitting one of the buttons on the side.
“Two down, one to go,” he said.
“Oh, that is old-school ,” Arkus grinned. “Where to next?”
“The last one is gonna hit a little closer to home,” Vance said, giving them a serious stare. “That girl who used to trail around with Zane all the time—I need you two to take me to her.”
“Lucy,” Ariella and Arkus both murmured.
Vance nodded, placing the tape recorder in his lap and rolling out of the driveway.
Arkus eyed the recorder in his lap, then shot him a questioning look. “Isn’t that entrapment?”
“What? No,” Vance laughed. “Not at all. Besides—you have to be a cop to get busted for entrapment. This is perfectly legal.”
“Did you record Julian, too?” Ariella wondered.
“Yes—but I plan to ask his permission before I use his recording,” Vance answered. “Somehow, I don’t think he’ll mind.”
They all fell silent for a while.
Eventually, Ariella and Arkus began to guide Vance toward Gates Mill University, where Lucy would be leaving her lunch break soon. The three of them searched around the mess hall for a while, though Lucy was nowhere to be seen. So, Ariella led her father to the girls’ dorms, the three of them marching down the hallway where Lucy’s room resided.
Ariella approached the room and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Lucy’s voice called out, sounding strangely fainter than Ariella remembered it to be.
After a brief pause, she opened the door, Arkus and Vance following her inside.
The room was messy, and Lucy sat on her bed, curled up in the corner and facing the side, her phone and an open textbook sitting on the comforters beside her. She glanced up from her book, meeting Ariella’s eyes—and Ariella felt her heart jump, gazing into Lucy’s oddly deadened stare, no longer vibrant with life, no longer bright with a bubbly attitude and an optimistic shine.
Lucy had no scars, no bruises, no marks whatsoever—yet somehow, as Ariella gazed deeply into her, she felt as if Lucy had been wounded since she last spoke to her. The expression on this girl’s face did not belong to the Lucy she once knew.
Arkus noticed the very same thing, giving Lucy a strange, grave stare.
Vance glanced between them, spotting the perturbed looks on Ariella and Arkus’s faces.
“Um… hey,” Ariella began gently, slowly sitting on Lucy’s bedside. “You okay…?”
Lucy nodded vacantly, saying nothing.
“We just… wanted to check in,” Ariella said. “And we kinda need to ask you some questions. But… are you really okay?”
Lucy nodded again, hugging her legs and leaning forward.
Ariella felt her chest ache as she gazed into her, not knowing why. “Okay… I know this is gonna seem assholeish, but… we need to ask you some questions about Zane.”
“M’kay,” Lucy mumbled softly.
“He wasn’t with you the last time we saw him,” Arkus remarked. “Is he ghosting you now? Is that why you’re all… upset…?”
Lucy stared at him for a moment, then gave him a sheepish nod.
“Do you know what’s been going on with him?” Ariella inquired. “The church caught fire last night, and a guy wearing Zane’s costume was spotted setting the fire with a gas can. We’re pretty sure Zane was behind it, but… we wanted to ask for your input, since you’re the closest to him.”
Lucy twirled her stringy bangs, gazing downward in thought for several seconds.
Ariella and Arkus chose to sit with her, Vance remaining standing, his hands pocketed and his eyes reading Lucy attentively.
“I don’t… really know,” she mumbled. “He’s been really distant with me, so…”
“Lucy,” Vance said, trying to soften his rough voice. “You’re close friends with the youth pastor, Julian Kelsey, aren’t you?”
Lucy gazed up at him and nodded quietly.
“Julian was strung up in the basement of the church last night,” Vance informed. “Stomach cut wide open, bleeding out, left to die when the fire started. If Zane is the one behind that, we need to know. Your friends are all in danger right now.”
Lucy gaped at him, then turned to Ariella and Arkus for confirmation, both of them nodding.
“I found him down there,” Ariella said somberly. “He was almost dead when I found him. He barely made it, Lucy.”
“Aye… and I saw that hooded bloke splashing petrol all over the place right before the fire started,” Arkus added on. “He had on a skull mask… just like Zane wears on his YouTube channel. We’re pretty damn sure it was him. We just need proof.”
Lucy tightened her embrace on her legs, staring down with a blank visage. She’d seen it all up close and personally—Zane’s costume, the brutal nature of his fraternity, and Zane carrying a canister of gasoline out of the dorms—but she remained deathly silent on the matters, a festering fear gnawing at the back of her mind.
“I really don’t know,” Lucy breathed in a wispy voice. “I mean, you… you could ask his brotherhood friends. Richard and David.”
“Dick Hurts,” Arkus muttered. “He’s Jax’s roommate…”
“Who’s David? Do you know his last name?” Ariella asked.
Lucy shook her head. “No… sorry…”
“That’s fine—I know exactly where to find Richard,” Arkus said conclusively.
“Is there anything else you can tell us?” Vance queried.
Lucy shook her head. “No… sorry…”
“Lucy,” Ariella said sincerely, scooting closer and giving her a deep, profound stare. “You know where to find me… okay? Come talk to me if you ever need to.”
Lucy nodded and attempted a smile, though to Ariella, it appeared as if the girl’s smile had been fractured somehow. She then sighed, pulling Lucy into a hug before reaching her feet.
“Call me if you remember anything,” Ariella said, giving her a final glance. “Or if you just wanna talk.”
Lucy agreed and waved them off.
Ariella, Arkus, and Vance all stepped out of the room, closing the door behind them and wandering down the hall.
“She’s lying,” Vance determined. “Couldn’t maintain eye contact, fidgeting constantly, messing with her hair every time we asked a difficult question… she’s definitely hiding something.”
Ariella and Arkus exchanged disturbed glances with one another.
“She didn’t use to be like that,” Ariella told her father. “When she was hanging out with us, she was a lot more smiley and outgoing. But now, she seems like…”
“Like Zane did something to her,” Arkus grumbled. “I swear to God, that fucker is a complete fuckin’ monster.”
“All the more reason to hunt him down and end his little cruelty parade,” Vance stated.
“Well—lucky for you, I know where to start,” Arkus said, snapping his fingers and motioning swiftly forward as he quickened his pace. “Follow me.”
The Callaghans followed Arkus out of the building, the three of them striding far across campus, past the duck ponds and open fields until they approached the boys’ dorm building. They strolled inside, Arkus leading them up the stairs briskly, and the three of them soon approached the corner room on this floor—the one that belonged to Jaxson and Richard.
Arkus knocked on the door rapidly. “Oy!”
“Oy!” a familiar voice replied from inside the room. “Whatcha want?!”
Arkus blinked, making a strange face. “Jax? Open the door—let us in!”
They heard the door unlock, and Jaxson pulled it open. “Fuck, you’re not the pizza guy.”
“Ha-ha, you’re funny, shut up,” Arkus griped sarcastically, pushing past him and glimpsing around the room. “Where’s your roomie?”
“Not here,” Jaxson shrugged. “He’s been gone a lot lately. Why?”
“We need to talk to him about Zane,” Ariella informed, she and her father following Arkus into the room, all of them scanning around intently.
Jaxson gave them an odd look. “Okay… but he’s probably not gonna talk to you. He never talks to me, and we’ve been sharing a room for months.”
“Yeah, well… he’s never met me before,” Vance remarked.
Arkus approached the opposite side of the room, which was much cleaner than Jaxson’s side, football propaganda posted on the walls, football gear spread out across the neatly-made bed, closet standing open just a crack.
“You guys seen Tammy?” Jaxson asked. “We were supposed to meet at lunch, but I never found her in there. She didn’t answer my message, either.”
“Nah… we haven’t seen her,” Ariella replied. “But we haven’t been here that long, so…”
“Oy,” Arkus said, meeting Vance’s eyes and snapping his fingers. “Close and lock the door, will ya’ please?”
Vance nodded and closed the door, turning the lock and approaching Arkus.
Ariella read their movements, suddenly understanding their intentions. Arkus and Vance were both approaching the closet in the corner of the room.
“Um… what’re you guys doing?” Jaxson mumbled, his eyes shifting strangely between the three of them. “Should I be worried?”
“Well… if we can’t talk to him, we can snoop on him,” Arkus said with a wink, pulling the closet fully open.
“Yeah… he hogged the closet all for himself,” Jaxson grumped. “I just shove all my shit under my bed…”
The four of them lingered around the closent, staring inside. The closet was filled with normal college items—a stack of books, sports equipment, clothes hanging from the top, deodorant and soap on the shelf, and little else.
Arkus scoffed and hunched down, digging out all the books and sports pads without bothering to be delicate.
“Dude—he’s gonna think I ransacked his closet,” Jaxson griped.
“Who cares,” Arkus snarked in response, leaning deeply inside and reaching behind all the items. “Oooh, what is this now…?”
“Hey,” Ariella said, turning to Jaxson, a thought just occurring to her. “Do you know what kind of car Richard drives?”
“Uh, yeah… it’s a shitty green sports car that guzzles gas, and it’s loud as shit,” Jaxson answered. “Why?”
Ariella turned to her father, her eyes lighting up and her heart palpitating. Vance met her gaze, looking severe.
Arkus got a firm hold of the mystery item, yanking it out of the back of the closet in one swift motion. The long thick cloth knocked over several of Richard’s books, but Arkus paid them no mind. He stood, holding up the dark wool cloak for everyone to see.
“Look familiar?” Arkus smirked.
“Oh my God,” Ariella breathed, gently stroking the hooded cloak. “That’s just like Zane’s.”
“So it’s not just a style choice for Zane’s channel—it’s a frat club thing,” Arkus determined. “They’re one of those fraternities who act like a creepy-ass cult, like Skull n’ Bones.”
“Chelsea said that Richard and David are basically just bullies… and they force their pledges to stab animals to death during initiation,” Vance mumbled thoughtfully, glaring at the cloak. “So… the leaders of the fraternity are just power-hungry freaks who get off on hurting anything weaker than them. Then, enter Zane, the smart little sociopath who can manipulate those types of people like pawns. Zane uses them to unfold his sick little agenda, and Richard and David get to do all the bullying they want on a drastic level. It all fits together. We’ve got multiple copycat killers on our hands now.”
“And Richard has the green car,” Ariella added. “Probably the same car that was seen leaving Lumis’s house after Marissa was killed. Dad, is that enough for the cops to get a warrant on Richard too?”
Vance pocketed his hands and shrugged. “I’m not sure. It would certainly be enough for them to treat him as a suspect… but someone has to bring this to their attention first.”
“Call Lumis,” Ariella urged, patting his arm. “Call him and tell him.”
Vance sighed heavily. “Bill isn’t on the Marissa case, Ari. He’s not on any case right now. He’s on leave at the moment…”
“Then call the station,” Ariella requested. “Call Hawkins and tell him.”
“I can’t do that, either,” Vance said regretfully. “Hawkins stated specifically that he didn’t want me around anymore. If I call him, he’s gonna throw a fit. I already almost got into some deep shit when Marissa died…”
Ariella thought for a moment—an idea suddenly striking her. She whipped around to face Jaxson, grinning broadly at him.
He stared at her. “What? Whaddid I do?”
“Rodney’s not teaching a class this afternoon. His room should be empty now,” Ariella beamed. “And the cops listen to our podcast.”
Jaxson’s eyes ignited, a childlike smile crawling across his face. He sauntered over to his side of the room, collecting his feathered hat from his bed and placing it fancifully atop his head.
“An impromptu Gate Keepers Exclusive episode—right here, right now!” Jaxson laughed. “Oh, and we have so much to update our listeners on!”
“A warrant for Zane’s arrest—Richard’s green car—the church burning down, and Zane being spotted committing arson in his YouTube costume,” Arkus ranted, trading grins with Jaxson. “Not to mention a special guest appearance from the houng dog himself, Vance Callaghan!”
Vance raised his brows, staring blankly at them. “Beg pardon…?”
“We could have everyone in the school looking for Zane before the day’s over,” Ariella smirked. “And everyone outside the school, and every cop in town, every listener in Gates Mill—and the thousands of others across the rest of the country. He’s gonna have a hard time going on the run if literally everyone’s looking for him.”
“JULIAN!” Arkus bellowed so abruptly, Ariella leaped from her skin. “Oh, oh, oh—if we could get Julian to speak on the podcast—that would be solid! He was cut up by the bloke in the skull mask! He’s got the most solid story out of all of us!”
“Julian’s in no state to drive out here,” Vance remarked.
“I’m still gonna text him and ask,” Arkus replied, whipping out his phone and texting rapidly. “Can’t hurt to try.”
“I’m gonna see if Tammy can join us, too,” Jaxson said, pulling out his own phone.
While the boys texted, Ariella turned to her father.
“You’re not a cop. You’re not technically on these cases,” she told him. “Lumis doesn’t actually have you ‘hired’ right now, so you’re not sworn to any PI secrecy, either… and there’s no law keeping you from just revealing your own eyewitness experiences on a podcast.”
Vance sighed, giving her a conflicted look. “I know, but…”
“Please?” Ariella begged, hugging his arm. “Just this once?”
“Oh… don’t do that,” Vance mumbled. “Don’t look at me with that puppy-dog face…”
“Dad… you’re the best at this,” Ariella said firmly. “We need you.”
“Private investigators aren’t supposed to reveal the details of their jobs given by their clients,” Vance said. “You know that.”
“But you’re not on the job anymore,” Ariella countered. “Everything you found out about Zane—you did that all in your own spare time. It’s not part of any client confidentiality. Besides, even if it was breaking the rules, I seriously doubt Lumis would press charges against you.”
Vance stared at her for several long seconds, sighing again and giving her a defeated nod. “Fine, fine… just this once…”
Ariella jumped with glee, yanking her father into a quick hug.
The four of them spent a little time trying to reorganize Richard’s closet, returning everything to its proper spot before leaving the room. They drove off-campus for a little while, grabbing lunch at a fast food place before driving back to the school. After they ate and returned to the university—Ariella led them all down the wide hallways of the health wing, approaching Rodney’s classroom and pushing the door open.
The classroom was as humongous and bizarre as it always had been, the rows of seats completely empty now, the room silent, gigantic windows covering the wall across the room, strange decorations covering the walls, katana still perched in its scabbard above the chalkboard. Vance spared a moment to glimpse around the strange room, eyeing the decorations that he had paid no mind to during his first visit to this class. Ariella strode across the room with haste, Arkus and Jaxson trailing along in her wake.
Rodney was sitting behind his desk, his feet propped up, wearing his spectacles as he calmly flipped through a book. He blinked and glanced up, spotting his students approaching, Vance at the back of their group.
“Yes?” Rodney said, cocking his brow at them. “To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure?”
“We’re gonna do an impromptu podcast right now,” Ariella told him. “You down for that?”
Rodney narrowed his eyes at her, then closed his book and straightened up. “Oh, sure… why not. This is putting me to sleep…”
“Hello…?” a weak, croaking voice spoke faintly from somewhere behind them all.
Ariella and her group all spun around—seeing Julian standing in the classroom’s doorway, leaning on its frame and giving them a pained smile.
“Holy crap!” Ariella exclaimed, swiftly approaching him. “How are you walking right now?!”
She stopped in front of him, examining him worriedly. Julian now wore his usual outfit, a black jacket over a white button-up, hat on his head, glasses on his face. He looked relatively unscathed, though he was incredibly pale and he was clutching his freshly-stitched stomach.
“Well… color me intrigued,” Julian laughed. “Arkus texted me a while ago, and I… I just felt moved to take action, like you all do…”
“Mate—just—stay right there,” Arkus urged, grabbing Rodney’s rolling chair and rushing across the room to Julian. “Sit. I’m gonna roll you right on in there. It’ll be like a wheelchair. We can’t have them stitches busting open.”
“Oh, thank you…” Julian sank slowly into the chair, wincing briefly, then releasing a relieved cloud of breath. “That’s much better…”
“Tammy’s still not answering me,” Jaxson sighed, pocketing his phone. “She’s probably off with her parents again. Let’s just go ahead and get started.”
“All right—Gate Keepers, let’s go,” Ariella grinned, helping Arkus to push Julian easefully across the classroom.
Rodney unlocked the door in the corner, pulling it open and allowing everyone inside. Arkus stopped the rolling chair at the head of the table, Julian and Vance’s eyes coasting around the room interestingly, observing the slasher posters, the dry-erase board, the gigantic PC across the room, and the neon sign at the opposite end of the table, fixed to the wall and positioned higher than all the microphones.
Jaxson powered on the sign, allowing the glowing letters of GATE KEEPERS to illuminate in the darkened room. He booted up his PC, Ariella, Arkus, Vance, and Rodney all seating themselves around the table as he did.
“All right—newcomers, just follow our lead and don’t be nervous,” Arkus announced. “We’re gonna be dropping bombs this episode, and we’re gonna be bloody relentless about it.”
“Scotty,” Rodney said warningly, sliding the spectacles off his face. “What’re you planning?”
“Oooh, you’ll see,” Arkus grinned devilishly, turning to his influencer friend.
Jaxson gave him a nod, sank into his chair, leaned over, and hit the space bar on his computer. Rodney pulled the door shut and locked it, and the recording session began.
“Hello, hello—welcome back to the Gates Mill Gate Keepers Podcast!” Jaxson declared enthusiastically. “We’re here today bringing you an exclusive non-scheduled podcast of the utmost importance! Those of you in Gates Mill—and even those of you not in Gates Mill—I’m sure you’ve seen our quaint little town on the news today. Our church—the very church regularly attended by the Gate Keepers—was arsoned last night. And not only that, but we have a pretty good idea of who did it. This is a special podcast; we’re not here to talk about Cutthroat, or slasher trivia, or play any RPGs today. Right now, we’re here to talk about a possible new killer rising up in town—and we have two special guests with us right now to deliver their own accounts of the events unfolding here in Gates Mill.”
“One of them is a sharp-as-hell private eye who’s seen even more shit than we have since this started,” Arkus explained. “And the other one is none other than our very own pastor, the pastor of the church that burned down, a close friend of ours—someone who was attacked by the new killer of Gates Mill.”
“Our two guests are here to share their experiences—but it’s up to them whether or not they wanna reveal their names,” Ariella added on. “Ari here, and you folks might’ve seen my latest post on the website—well, we have much more to add on to that story now.”
“And even our own DJ Dangerfield can attest to this bloke’s behavior,” Arkus grinned at Rodney, who sighed and rolled his eyes. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
For a little while, Ariella, Arkus, and Jaxson took turns telling all their stories about Zane before revealing all the evidence they had against him, as well as his fraternity brother, Richard. Once they were finished, Arkus looked to Vance and Julian, nodding at them and motioning for one of them to speak.
“Ahm… do I just…?” Julian murmured, pointing questioningly at the microphone nearest him.
“Aye—speak to it, but not too close,” Arkus instructed.
Julian swallowed and tried to strengthen his voice. “All right… my… my name is Julian. Some of you may know me, as I’ve got a lot of regular church attendees from the university. Well, I… I apologize if I sound a little messed up. The skull-faced killer sliced my stomach up last night, and the stitches are… pretty… fresh. He came to me… dragged me down to the basement… and left me there before lighting the building on fire.”
“Ooo—the skull-faced killer. I like that,” Arkus commented. “Good nickname, since we haven’t technically nailed his identity down yet, but it’s like ninety-eight percent likely that Zane is our man. Still though—the skull-faced killer is a good name.”
“And Julian was rescued by none other than our own Ari,” Jaxson told the mics. “She just barely managed to stop the bleeding before we’d end up losing our favorite pastor forever.”
“Not only that—but Jax and I both saw the skull-faced killer,” Arkus stated. “I woke up to a splashing noise and a God-awful smell—turned around and saw this hooded bloke in a skull mask dousing the entire place in petrol! I chased him off and we got everyone out, but he still managed to light the place on fire.”
“Yes. And… beyond that,” Vance finally spoke up, leaning forward in his seat. “The first victim to die from this new killer—or killers—was marked with a phrase carved onto the skin. And now, the pastor has the same type of carving on his chest. It seems clear to me that the skull-faced killer—or killers—intended for Julian to die last night.”
“The way he timed it… he wanted me to find Julian right when he was about to…” Ariella murmured, sighing deeply.
“No such luck for him—because Julian’s alive and well, and we’re gonna keep it that way,” Arkus stated, gently stroking Ariella on the back. “And now, Zane is a wanted man, for obvious reasons. So, listen up, Gates Mill—and all the folks beyond Gates Mill—if you see a blond emo edgelord with black streaks in his bangs, be sure to contact the GMPD, or maybe make a citizen’s arrest if you’re feelin’ brave. Hah! Just kidding. Not really. The guy’s in hiding, which makes him look even guiltier than he already does. We’re gonna bring this bloke down no matter what. DJ Dangerfield—do you have anything to add?”
Rodney let out a heavy breath, resting his chair properly on all fours and leaning on the table.
“Not much,” he said honestly. “Although, I will say… from the first moment I met him, I felt something was off. I know all the signs of ASPD, and he has every single one.”
Ariella squinted at him, then turned to her father questioningly.
“Antisocial Personality Disorder,” Vance whispered to her. “The medical term for sociopathy.”
“Oh.” Ariella nodded and fell silent.
“The day I met him, he held a sword to his little girlfriend’s throat just for fun,” Rodney disclosed. “The girl was terrified… and he just smiled, laughing like it was a damn joke.”
“Lucy,” Ariella muttered, straightening up in her seat. “Zane held a sword to Lucy’s throat—and he does shit like that to her all the time. He treats her like a dog on a leash, and he tried to do the same to us. He did that exact same thing to your favorite podcast host. Listeners—he put a knife to JaxMax’s throat, too. If you didn’t read my update, then hear it now. He put a blade to Jax’s neck and laughed about it—and when we told him to stop, Zane refused. So, Arkus grabbed the knife and headbutted him right in the nose.”
“Aye, and I do it again,” Arkus said with a laugh, examining his palm. “Still got the scar…”
“And Lucy,” Ariella continued, feeling the raging fire inside begin to build up once more. “You know what, listeners? I just went to talk to Lucy a short while ago. And she—”
“Ari,” Arkus whispered, giving her a forbidding look.
“No—I don’t care,” Ariella stated fearlessly. “I’m gonna reveal everything I know right now. I just went to talk to Lucy, and she looked completely broken inside. When I looked in her eyes, I didn’t even see Lucy anymore. I don’t know what Zane’s been doing with her, or to her—and I know Lucy won’t like me saying this on the show—but the anonymity doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is stopping this asshole. Zane is an abusive sociopath. He screwed us, and he’s screwing her up even more.”
“Actually, I… I can shed some light on that, too,” Julian chimed in, patting Ariella’s hand and giving her a gentle smile. “Zane once came to me, admitting that he had very deep and sadistic urges that he wanted to act on… urges of… rape, and… murder. When he finished talking to me, he threatened to kill me if I ever told anyone. But, since he’s already tried that and failed… well… what the hell, right?”
Ariella smirked at him.
“And it’s been divulged to us today that Zane’s fraternity has some twisted initiation ritual,” Vance informed the listeners. “Stabbing animals to death. That’s what you have to do to become a part of Xi Phi Beta nowadays. If Zane is capable of that, then perhaps he’s capable of more.”
“Oh—and let’s not forget—for those of you who don’t know, Zane has his own YouTube channel called Jack Skullington now,” Arkus announced. “You can see him wearing the very same cloak and mask that was worn by the skull-faced killer last night. It’s damn near incriminating , if I’m being honest.”
“ And that’s the same kind of cloak we saw in Richard’s closet today,” Jaxson added on. “I happen to be his college roommate, and I saw that cloak with my own eyes. Now—you all better start downloading and screenshotting Zane’s YouTube content right now, because chances are, he’s gonna start deleting it the moment he hears this podcast. So…”
Jaxson suddenly stopped, hearing a certain text notification from his pocket, the tone that sounded whenever Tammy would message him. He quickly pulled out his phone, waving for Arkus to take over narration.
“So—get to it!” Arkus yelled. “Download, screenshot, and save all the evidence you find! We can all bring him down together! The hunt for Zane Jackson is on!”
“And for everyone who plans to go to the sorority’s Halloween party tomorrow—keep an eye out for Zane there, too,” Ariella said. “I think the party is taking place in the gym instead of the sorority house, since the gym has a stage and a lot more room. The fraternities are gonna be there, too—which means Zane might show up.”
“Ye’ap. Zane originally planned to go to that party with us. I dunno if he’s changed his plans, but just in case, keep an eye out!” Arkus ranted.
They all turned to Jaxson, expecting him to close the show with his usual ending statements before Arkus would deliver the podcast’s signoff—but Jaxson’s face was buried in his phone, his expression riddled with perturbation.
Ariella and Arkus traded eyes, each of them sensing that something was awry.
“Well—that’s all we have for you today, folks!” Arkus hollered. “We’ll be posting regular updates on JaxMax.com —and until next time, we’ll be right back! Aaaaagh! ”
Again, Arkus looked to Jaxson for a reaction, but he was glaring down at his phone with a deeply-etched frown. So, Arkus stood and marched around the table, hitting the space bar and ending the recording himself.
“Jax,” he said seriously, tapping his shoulder. “What’s a’matter?”
Ariella, Julian, Vance, and Rodney all eyed him intensely.
Jaxson slowly raised his head, his big eyes shining with hurt and troubled confusion. He held his phone out in front of Arkus, allowing him to read the text that he’d just received from Tammy.
The text read:
Jax, we’re through. I’m done screwing around with your fat ugly ass. I’m leaving town with Richard tonight. Don’t ever talk to me again.
Arkus frowned, reading over the text twice before passing the phone to Ariella. She and the others took turns reading over the message. When the phone was passed back to Jaxson, his grimace seemed to have deepened even more, looking thoroughly wounded.
“Blimey,” Arkus sighed, breaking the tense silence. “What did you do? Forget her birthday or something? That’s fuckin’ harsh… even for her.”
“I didn’t do anything ,” Jaxson breathed, completely astonished.
“You need to call her,” Ariella told him. “Figure out why she’s all pissed off. Talk to her.”
“No, but… I really didn’t do anything ,” Jaxson insisted. “The last time I texted her, I just asked her to meet me for lunch, and she said ‘Okay, luv you.’ Everything’s fine between us. I don’t… I don’t know what…”
“ Call her,” Ariella reiterated. “And leave her a message if she doesn’t answer.”
Jaxson gulped and nodded, calling Tammy and holding the phone to his ear. It rang several times with no answer, so he left a voicemail.
“Tammy… I don’t know what the hell that text was about, but… if you wanna talk, just let me know. I’m gonna be in the podcast room editing, so come find me if you wanna talk. And if one of your friends is just using your phone and sending me shitty texts to freak me out, please tell them to fuck off, because that’s not funny. That seriously hurt to read. I… I love you. Bye.”
Jaxson sighed and slid his phone into his pocket, turning and sinking down in front of his computer. He began the editing process right away, eager to distract himself.
“I’ll have it done before sundown,” Jaxson assured. “We need this to be done and uploaded as soon as possible.”
“M’kay,” Arkus nodded at him from behind. “Um… y’okay…?”
“Yeah.” Jaxson glanced up at him, flashing a flat smile. “I’m good. I feel like Tammy’s friends are probably just messing with her phone and screwing with me. I can’t see her actually sending me that text.”
“Me either,” Arkus agreed. “Well… I reckon we can go, then…”
“See you guys later,” Jaxson dismissed, waving them all off.
Ariella and the others all marched out of the podcast room, greeted by the bright lighting of Rodney’s classroom. Once they were out of Jaxson’s earshot, Ariella whispered to Arkus.
“What other friends does Tammy have aside from us?”
Arkus merely shrugged.
“Oy—hey—Julian,” Arkus said, grasping the pastor’s shoulder. “Y’want me to drive you home? Or back to the hospital?”
“No… that’s quite all right, thank you,” Julian replied politely. “Driving’s actually much easier than walking. I’m gonna head back to the hospital… so… I’ll see you guys later. And… thanks for the invite, Arkus.”
“Thanks for showing up,” Arkus smirked.
Ariella gave the pastor a gentle hug before Julian slowly walked out of the room.
“Well… we’re done for the day,” Vance concluded, pulling out his keys. “Let’s go home.”
Ariella and Arkus both nodded, turning and giving Rodney their goodbyes before leaving. Vance briefly caught Rodney’s eye, giving him a strange look and rubbing his temple before following his daughter out of the classroom.
When the three of them were walking down the hall, Ariella glanced up at her father, seeing that he was repeatedly massaging his head.
“You seriously need to take your meds,” Ariella told him.
“No… I’m good,” Vance replied. “This doesn’t… it doesn’t even happen that often. It only happens when…”
He paused, slowing to a stop and glancing over his shoulder, eyeing Rodney’s classroom door behind them.
“What?” Ariella asked, spotting his thoughtful stare. “What’s wrong…?”
“Nothing, I…” Vance mumbled, shaking his head and continuing to walk down the hall. “I think I might’ve met your psychology professor before… at some point…”
Ariella nodded quietly, thinking of Rodney’s behavior the previous night and saying nothing.
Rodney had revealed to her that the Cutthroat Killer once attacked him long ago; Rodney was apparently the only living witness to the Cutthroat Killer before Ariella herself became one. And if that was the case, it made sense for him to have crossed paths with Vance once many years ago. Vance and Lumis worked the Mary Goldwater case, after all. If her psychology professer happened to witness that murder, then it was entirely possible that the detective and the PI had questioned Rodney at some point in time.
She wondered how that event might’ve transpired, how Rodney happened to witness Mary Goldwater’s death, but the details of the event hardly mattered right now. Besides, she knew the whole encounter must’ve been a terrible memory for him, and Ariella certainly didn’t want to force Rodney to revisit such a dark memory. Perhaps it was better not to ask him about it, at least not anytime soon.
Plus, Rodney didn’t broadcast his encounter with the Cutthroat Killer to anyone. He’d been helping with this podcast for a good long while now, never once mentioning that he’d seen the Cutthroat Killer in person once before. He seemed to prefer that it stay secret.
And beyond that, she knew not to prod at her father’s memory-loss issues, as it often caused him terrible headaches.
So, Ariella simply followed Vance and Arkus out of the health wing, choosing not to speak further on the matter for now.
The prerecorded voice echoed throughout the dark, dingy room, the smell of mildew heavy in the air as the skull-faced killer held the phone upright, playing the voicemail on speakerphone.
“Tammy… I don’t know what the hell that text was about, but… if you wanna talk, just let me know. I’m gonna be in the podcast room editing, so come find me if you wanna talk. And if one of your friends is just using your phone and sending me shitty texts to freak me out, please tell them to fuck off, because that’s not funny. That seriously hurt to read. I… I love you. Bye.”
“N’aww,” Skull-Face mocked, cocking his head and turning the phone off. “He loves you. Ain’t that sweet.”
He stood alongside two more hooded figures in cloaks, each of them with similar white masks. The three of them were standing in the center of the empty, cobwebbed room, gazing up at the corner, where their latest victim hung from the ceiling on display.
Tammy had been stripped down to her underwear, her mostly bare body covered with cuts and bruises, her hands and wrists bound tightly with ropes that strung her from the ceiling. Her face was twisted up in terror, a gag shoved into her mouth and muffling all her horrified cries, tears streaming down her face as she wiggled helplessly within the ropes that bound her.
“This is your own fault,” Skull-Face snarked coldly. “See, this is what you get for driving around campus all alone. Vance told you guys to stay together at all times , now didn’t he?”
Tammy murmured and groaned into her gag incomprehensibly.
Skull-Face laughed at her, sauntering forward and gently pressing the tip of his knife to her stomach, making her jump and scream into her gag.
“Heh. Arkus still thinks he’s texting you ,” Skull-Face cackled, waving the phone around. “You wanna know what he texted you earlier? Apparently, they’re all still going to the Halloween party. That pretty much means I have to go. Gotta put on a show.”
Tammy whimpered pitifully, glaring down at him with a fusion of anger and terror.
“You look so fucking pathetic,” Skull-Face snarled, twirling the blade around in a slow circle atop her skin. “Worthless… fucking… bitch .”
He lowered the knife, nodding at his brothers. The three of them slowly removed their masks, revealing the faces of Zane, Richard, and David, all of whom were grinning nastily up at her.
“Whatcha think, huh?” Zane teased, holding up the phone and the knife. “You want me to lead Jax out here, too? You guys can die together.”
Tammy sputtered and wailed into her gag uselessly, her eyes watering.
“Maybe that’s too predictable. Maybe I can up the stakes of the game—call Vance Callaghan out here,” Zane remarked. “See if the hound doggie can follow your fishy fucking scent right to this fucking room. Or maybe Rodney? I’d like to see the old man’s face when he finds you here. Old fucker’s probably gonna have a stroke when he sees your corpse .”
David laughed, Richard moving forward and gently running his fingers along the rim of her panties, making her squeal with frightful protest.
“What? What’s your problem?” Zane snickered insanely, cocking his head and making his bangs fling to the side. “I thought you liked Richard. The man is fucking sexy— way more so than that fat fuck you’ve been fucking around with. Richard is a goddamn score. No homo.”
Tammy sobbed hysterically, sealing her eyes shut and falling limp within her binds.
There was a long, grave pause.
Tammy stopped crying, now motionless with defeat.
Zane’s smile vanished. He stepped past his fraternity brothers, glaring up at her with the iciest stare he’d ever harbored in his life.
“When I tell you… to mind your fucking business,” he glowered in an evil hiss. “You mind… your fucking… business . This is what happens to people who piss me off… you worthless… fucking… whiny… bitch .”
Zane pressed the knife to her stomach—and Tammy let out a crackled, horrendous shriek that echoed throughout the entirety of the Goldwater Estate.