A/N I'm warning you guys, this isn't that good...It was supposed to be a horror story...But I can't make stuff scary, so now it's just other XD. And, I'm only posting this because someone **coughJUNEcough** forced me to...Anywayz, title suggestions are welcome!
“Ali, are you sure that we can be out this late?” he murmured.
“Oh, it’s no problem with me! It’s a beautiful night, with the moon shining down on us…Unless, you’re…afraid?” Ali replied with a smirk.
She always knew the perfect way to entrance them.
I drove them to her simple cottage in the woods, away from the noise and safety of the city. Casually, the three of us walked up to her house, as I unlocked it.
She and Brett curled up on the sofa together. Meanwhile, I sat on the wooden chair, feeling like the audience in a theater, waiting for the movie to unfold.
With another flip of her perfect flaming locks, I knew he’d be in her grasp. Another fly entrenched in her spider web of lies and deceit. She leaned forward, her cherry red lips whispering sweet nothings, yet capturing his innocent brown eyes. Another few seconds, and he’d be thoroughly brainwashed.
“Iris!” she snapped, breaking me out of my trance-like state.
“Huh?” I replied in a bemused tone.
“Honey, don’t you want to meet my new friend?” she simpered, winding her hands tightly around his shoulders.
Friends? How long will that last?
“I’d love to!” I exclaimed, with a fake smile plastered on my face.
“Iris, this is Brett.”
“Nice to meet you, dear,” I said, in what I hoped was an enthusiastic manner.
He murmured something that sounded like a “hi”, his eyes never leaving her face.
I felt a pang of sympathy, knowing the pain that awaited him.
For, I knew that he was just a pawn, and she was the one controlling the chessboard.
Ali stared at him as she mouthed I love you, then gasped at her own revelation.
She always was a good actress.
“I can’t take this anymore! Iris, can I use your cell? I need to break up with Aaron. Now!” she said in a strained voice.
“Of course, Ali,” I murmured sympathetically, tossing her my cell.
But, Brett, poor Brett, simply stared, eyes wide open in shock. His eyes were shining with hope and showed his amazement at the idea that beautiful Ali would like him.
Can’t I just spare him the pain? Can’t I tell him that she was cheating him just like she had cheated so many other guys? Can’t I show him my best friend’s true colors?
Ali hung up the phone, her eyes wide with shock. She gasped, “Oh, Brett! He is so angry! He insists that he is going to kill me!”
Brett, eager to prove his manliness, instantly wrapped his arm protectively around Ali. “Ali, dear, I’ll protect you! I would never let any man touch you, my love,” he yelled.
The irony of it made me laugh mirthlessly. The puppet trying desperately to help the puppeteer.
She swooned into his arms, saying, “I know I can trust you.”
Brett seemed shocked as he placed the unconscious Ali onto the couch, just as Aaron stormed in. Covered with blood and emanating the smell of alcohol, he was a perfect picture.
I couldn’t stand it. Not now, and not ever. I left the room, knowing what would happen next, having the script memorized.
In exactly sixteen minutes, Ali and Aaron walked out hand-in-hand, Brett did not.
“Come on, Iris, we’ve got work to do. And, next time, you’re staying,” Ali commanded harshly. We left and headed off to the forest as the clock struck midnight.
In the morning, Brett’s parents called the cops. He had never come home after his date at the movie theater.
The cops searched for a few days before declaring him missing. In exactly two weeks an anonymous letter was sent to them, with a picture of Brett’s body. It proclaimed:
Don’t worry. He died happy.
