Chapter Four: Truth

Fear. Absolute, consuming terror. It burns in my veins as I struggle to breathe.

My mind can't wrap around what just happened. People I've known are dead, and their killer has revealed herself. What would be relief by knowing who killed someone I know is pure fear as I look into her eyes.

I'm mere feet from a murderer.

I can only imagine what everyone else is thinking. Jen and Ximena recoil in fright. James panics, something I've never seen him do. Considering how he took control when he thought Rodney was responsible, he's completely terrified now. And Rodney is frozen in place, his eyes glued to Monica as he waits for her to say something else.

While I know what my friends are feeling, I have no fucking clue what she is thinking. What she's going to do next.

All of her facade is gone. She is no longer weeping or showing any sense of being afraid. The Monica she was putting out there has left, and one much more sinister has taken her place.

Suddenly, I realize something. And instead of keeping it to myself, I decide to bring it up to everyone.

"You planned this all along, haven't you?" I ask her, my eyes never leaving hers and visa versa. "You wanted to expose yourself?"

She nods. "I figured it'd be obvious by now, but yes. That was the plan."

Ximena has crossed the room and is hiding by Jen. Jen, however, steps forward. "Why would you expose yourself at the very beginning?" Jen asks. "You told us to play that hat secrets game first thing. The hat had your secret in it."

Monica smirks. "I knew you wouldn't find out until someone - or two someones - would be dead."

Oh my God. "You knew Adrien would refuse to play..." I whisper, mostly to myself.

She grins wildly. "Bingo."

"But why?" Ximena cries. "Why are you doing this to us!?"

"Because!" Monica grinds her teeth, clearly trying to hold back raw emotion. "Karma is a bitch."

James scowls. "Okay, I get that you wanted Adrien dead. Everyone knows the awful shit she did to you. But what the fuck did I ever do to you?"

"Yeah!" Ximena second's. "Or me! Or any of us!"

I personally have no clue either. Monica used to be my friend. For a long time, we were so close, I thought of her as a sister. But that friendship faded over the course of the last year, eventually coming to a halt. I can't think of anything that I ever did that would make her hate me this much.

Bewilderment crosses Monica's face. Not just that, but she's furious and gleeful at the same time. "You have no idea..." she says softly. An evil giggle leaves her mouth and it echoes throughout the room. "You're all so ignorant."

For what feels like forever, I watch her. I watch her face contort into distress, then into anger, then settling into determination.

"NO ONE IS INNOCENT!" She screams, and I swear I saw tears in her eyes. But she blinks, and they're gone. "All of you are here for a reason."

I'm sick to my stomach. My hope sinks into the depths and I realize how screwed I am - how all of us are. I'm going to die in this room. She's going to kill me.

Across the room, I meet Rodney's eyes. A single part of me wants to cry out for help, almost out of instinct. But my fear is mirrored back to me through his eyes. He's in this room with me, trapped just like me.

"I think it's time for another game," Monica says excitedly. "This one is my favorite. It's a little one I call 'Truth or Truth.'"

"That's already a game," Ximena snaps, rolling her eyes.

Monica isn't fazed. Her grin spreads. "This one is...special."

She stands from her position on the floor. God, it's like she's a different person. Instead of her meek self, she walks with grace and confidence. Her long skirt flows about as she circles the room, her eyes following each and everyone of us.

With a swift kick, she lands a solid push against Chris's body with her foot. He rolls off, colliding on the floor near James. Ximena screams, and James leaps out of himself. But no one says anything.

Monica sits onto the table, crossing one leg over the other. She swings her black hair over her shoulder with a hand before settling her hands in her lap.

"It's Truth or Dare without the dare and with posed questions. I will ask you a question and you must answer with honesty. If not, there will be consequences. And I'm not talking about middle school Truth or Dare punishments. If you lie, you will pay in blood and death." Her eyes lock onto mine, unwavering. "Got it?"

I nod. I don't look to see if everyone else does or not.

She grins. "Good! Oh! And," she pauses, a laugh on the edge of her lips. "If it wasn't clear, the questions are rigged to where I know the answer. So I'll know if you lie."

Her eyes scan the room, searching for a victim. "Who should we start with...?" She asks herself. "How about James?"

James, now sitting on the floor, crosses his arms and defiantly lifts his head. "No."

"No?" she cocks her head to the side.

"No!" he emphasizes. "I'm not playing your fucking games, you psycho bitch!"

I partially expected to see her flinch or seem hurt by that. Instead, she smirks.

"Is that refusal to participate?" She pauses but James doesn't answer. "Because you know what happens when you refuse to play." With a wave of her arm, she gestures to the body on the floor.

James curses under his breath. "Whatever. Hit me with your best shot then."

She grins. "I plan to do so."

For several seconds, she walks the room. I'm not sure if she's trying to intimidate him by stalling. Eventually, she addresses the room.

"I'll be blunt with you all. This game is meant to hurt you by exposing yourself to those in the room. Maybe there's something you're hiding from another person in this room. But I have something different for you, my dear James."

He scoffs. "And what's that?"

"Well," she sighs dramatically. "You don't have anyone left in here with emotional attachment. No one you're hiding anything from. So I want you to expose yourself as the spoiled, rich brat you are."

James stares at her for a moment, then bursts into laughter. "Oh?" he manages to ask in midst of chuckling. "How's that?"

Monica's resolve remains. She never falters. It's terrifying.

"Tell them about the party," she whispers, her face inches from his. "Tell them what you did to me at the party."

His smile drops. "What are you talking about? I never did anything to you!"

Suddenly, she grips his arm and twists it behind his back! He cries out in pain as she holds it tight against him. I watch with bated breath as she leans down to whisper something into his ear. I can't hear it though.

After she speaks to him, James nods feverishly and she lets go. He brings his arm to his chest and he holds it with his other hand. Monica walks back in front of him and sits at the table, waiting for him to say whatever it is she is expecting him to say.

"Last year, my family threw one of their parties," he starts. "It's lavish; big money is put into it, famous people visit to attend, red carpet treatment, etc. But this one was different. I invited her." He narrows his eyes at her but she isn't fazed.

"I bought her a dress, had her hair done, all of that. I wanted her to feel special, you know, after everything that happened earlier that year. And it went well. We danced, I introduced her to people, it was nice. Nothing happened."

I furrow my eyebrows. That sounds so nice, so why is she bringing it up? What does she think he did to her that made her want him in this room with the rest of us?

Monica gives him a warning look. "You're lucky I've given you a warning. I won't next time. Tell them what happened the next day."

"What do you mean? Nothing happened!"

She stands abruptly and James flinches. "I overheard you, James! Tell them what happened or I will fucking kill you!"

For once, I see a look I've never seen on James's face before. It's one of guilt and sorrow. He avoids her eyes and whispers, "Fine."

"The next day, I went back to normal. Before I invited her to the party, I never spoke to her. We weren't friends. So why would things change?" He sighs. "She tried talking to me but I ignored her. When she approached me with my friends, I acted like I didn't know her."

Jen shakes her head. "My God, James..."

Monica crouches by him. "Now tell them the real reason why you invited me to that party. And it wasn't because you liked me. Tell the truth."

He holds his breath before nodding. "She was charity."

"'Charity?'" I repeat, confusion thick in my words. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I was making a point to my parents!" He shakes his head. "That it doesn't hurt to have a charity case every once in a while, that I can be charitable."

Jen scoffs. "Being charitable is donating your allowance to the Children's Hospital. That was not charity! She is not a charity case!"

He raises his eyebrows. "Clearly."

Monica stands and pats James on the head. "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

Like a hawk, she sweeps through the room again. I hold my breath, hoping and praying she doesn't pick me. But, as if she can hear my thoughts, she lands her sights on me.

"Hello, Zoe,"

My lip quivers. I don't bother to say anything.

She raises an eyebrow. "No response? Not even a 'hello' for an old friend?"

Does an old friend threaten to murder you? When I don't reply, she nods. "Alright. Straight to business then."

"I want to know what friendship really means to you, Zoe." She circles around me, running her hand along my hair. Chills go down my spine from the sickening motion. "What you would or wouldn't do for a friend. What boundaries you would or wouldn't cross..."

I shake my head in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Ah! She speaks!" After she comes to stand before me, she drops down to crouch so we're face-to-face. "Tell me about that boyfriend of yours."

Boyfriend? "I don't have a boyfriend."

She rolls her eyes. "Fine, if we're getting technical, your ex-boyfriend. You know, the one who knocked you up and ditched you."

Tears well in my eyes. How can she be so cold about that? I cried to her when I found out and after he left me. She held my hand as I waited in the lobby of the clinic, and she was there when I was done with the procedure. How can she say that with no emotion like it was just a textbook event?

"How did you two get together?" she asks with a fake interested voice. When she finishes, a slow grin spreads over her mouth. My stomach twists. "When did you get together?"

No. Please no. I shake my head. "I can't -"

"But you can! And you will."

My skin feels like it's on fire. I only want to leap out of my spot and run out of the room.

"Tell them," Monica hisses. "Tell them how you and Kyle met."

"Kyle?" Jen whispers. I meet her eyes and the shame is overwhelming. "Kyle was the boyfriend who...?" She doesn't need to finish her sentence for me to know.

I can't. I can't admit it. I can't let her know how I stole her boyfriend the summer after eighth grade.

Decided, I lock eyes with Monica. She thinks I'll cave. Well, think again, bitch.

"No."

Her smile fades into a vicious scowl. "What?"

"I said no." For Jen. To protect her. And to stand up to Monica.

She stands. "No more warnings!" I clench my eyes shut but nothing happens. My heart beats loud in my ear as I slowly open my eyes to see her contemplating.

"You know what? I have a better idea." She points to Jen. "As team leader, you have a responsibility over the group. One that gives you a choice right now. You can choose to take responsibility of Zoe's action, which will protect her. But you'll be given her punishment."

Jen stares wide eyed in shock. When I realize she's avoiding my eyes, my heart sinks.

"I can't," she whispers. "I'm sorry."

Monica grins. "Then it's settled." Her wild eyes lock onto mine. She lifts up part of her skirt and pulls a dagger from the garter on her thigh.

Without hesitation, she charges at me, the dagger aimed above my head.