A/N Shoutout to @violet_prism because their comments make my day ^^ I wanted to see what you guys think of the next chapter so I decided to post it wayyy early... ENJOY :D

"Freaking QTE's!" I yell in frustration as Chelsea laughs in the stool beside me.

"Good job, you killed yourself again!" She face palmed and giggled uncontrollably.

I shift furiously in my chair, then remember where I am.

Believe me, I never forgot I was at the mercy of a serial killer. Every five minutes I'd temporarily be so enveloped in the game, that I ignored my surroundings. It's weird. I know that this girl beside me is a psychopath who would kill me without a second thought, but for some reason, I feel like she's just a normal kid. There is no way this girl, of all people, is a murderer. Maybe she has a partner? Or maybe she isn't the Chelsea Killer at all. I shudder. I don't want to think of this anymore.

"Hey, are you okay? You aren't pressing resume." The girl beside me says as she turns towards me. I stare down at the controller in my hands. Chelsea sighs.

"What are you thinking about?" She asks nervously. She sounds like she already knows what I'm going to say.

"Why haven't you killed me yet?"

Even though she was hidden in black paint, I saw her face drop.

"Thanks for killing the mood," she grumbles.

I knit my eyebrows and look down at my lap.

"Ever since I was little all I've wanted was a friend," she admits, "and I..."

Her voice breaks and she turns away. She clears her throat and turns towards the television.

"Just press retry."

I take in a deep breath and let it out, then does as she asks. Not two minutes later, I die again.

"I lost the only person I cared about years ago. There was something wrong with me, and I knew it."

When she stops talking, I decide to hit resume and retry. I don't die automatically this time. I last a solid ten minutes until a sniper shoots me in my car. The death screen is showing, and the option "retry" and "exit to main menu". Instead of pressing one, I wait to see if she talks again.

"I didn't just lose her. I am the reason she is dead today. I... killed her."

She stops again and I hit retry, then kill myself on purpose.

"It's my fault she's dead. It's my fault nobody could help me. I never let them."

I don't press anything this time.

"Why is it your fault?" I ask, not taking my eyes off the TV.

No reply. Chelsea shakes her head.

She presses the select button on my controller and the scene repeats on the TV. This time, I don't die at all. After a while, Chelsea stands up and walks towards a cooler. She pulls out the pizza rolls, sets them on a plate, and microwaves them. She comes back over to me and I pause the game. This time, my arms can move more freely, so I feed myself. She also pours me a glass of orange juice, and puts a cute yellow umbrella in it. She sits down with her own plate and cup, sipping quietly.

"I killed her. It was because of me she got in the car. It was because of me she fell off the road, and it was because of me that she died." I can hear the strain in her voice. She chews on a roll. Not a single tear wells in her eyes. "That is why you are alive. Because people care about you; and I know somebody is out there right now trying to find you."

I stare at my plate, swallowing. Nobody will find me, will they? It's impossible.

"Who is looking for me?" I ask urgently. Chelsea turns to me and smiles, making me feel uneasy.

"Your mom and her friend. They're really nice people, you know..."

Everything she says makes me sick; knowing that she has feelings and emotions, and that she knows exactly what she's doing only makes her more horrid. There is nothing she can hide behind.

"Yup," she says, "They're looking for you..." Chelsea's' voice drones out, and I watch her stare off into space.

I still have that one question lodged in my throat. I have to ask.

"Why do you kill people?"

Chelsea takes the cup to her lips and chugs the rest of her orange juice, then sets the empty plate and cup on the ground. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and slides off of the stool.

"I'm going outside for some fresh air," she says, walking towards the door. "See you later."

She opens and slams the door shut. I hear her footsteps outside, then fade away until they disappear completely. I sit in the silence. The controller isn't within reach, and I've finished my food. The recorder isn't reading a story. There isn't anything for me to do, but wait.

...

What am I talking about?

I shake my head and try to sort through my thoughts. She's manipulating me, right? She's just using the old stockholm syndrome tactic. She's trying to make me feel sorry for her. What's there to be sorry about? She kills people. I've never met any of the other girls she has kidnapped; what were they like? Did she spend time getting to know them like she did me?

I shake my arms back and forth, trying to loosen the duct tape. All it does it rip the peach fuzz off of my arms and hurts me; I can't wiggle free. I try my legs– no again. I shake every muscle in my body, until suddenly I feel a loss of balance, and the chair begins to tip. I try to shift my weight in the opposite direction, but inevitably fall on my left side. Damn it.

The weight pressed against my left arm makes it feel numb. I lean forward as much as I can and try to bite the duct tape off. I just barely can't reach it, do to it being right in my elbow. I let a huge sigh out and lean my head down on the old wood floor. I close my eyes.

"That is why you are alive. Because people care about you; and I know somebody is out there right now trying to find you."

People care about me? I guess my mom has always been there for me; taking walks Friday nights, playing checkers– and when I asked her to play a video game with me, she did. Even though she kept running into walls and falling off of edges, it was still good for a laugh. Everyone thinks I have such a great life. I feel like I'm living a lie, though.

Sure, I have tons of friends, everybody knows that. Fun-loving, adventurous, beautiful Samantha Rickborne. Ha. The first day of school back in middle school I made sure to find some nerdy friends, but instead I was adopted by a group of eighth graders. Ever since then, my name has practically in lights. I'm afraid if I try to be the loner, fan fiction reading dork, I'll be forever looked down upon. Worse, I've seen what they do to those people. Dressing "nerdy" might be a cute thing to do, but when it comes to the people who act it, they seem to be the ones shoved into lockers. Now that I'm a freshman, there's no turning back.

At least I have Cassie, my best friend whom I met in a book club. She knows every side of me. She knows I'm popular, and she knows I try not to be seen with her. Makes me a horrid friend, and I feel bad about it, but she tells me she understands. She also knows I love to climb around like the vigilantes I read about in comics and watch on TV shows. My mom thinks I never get out, and the people at school think I never go in. I wish there were more "Cassie"s in my life.

I hit my head multiple times on the creaky floor. I don't have to worry about any of this anymore. I rest my head down again as tears leak down my cheeks. What's going on?

I'm so confused.

A/N Heh heh, speaking of Cassie, we'll be checking up on Kelly and Dawn to see what she's up to next!