"They made me do it." The person told her, "I didn't want to, I wanted no part in this. You have to believe me, but I didn't have a chance to tell them, they wanted me to do it, and that was that."

"That was that." Sasha repeated, "All of this? All of this for what? People are dead. People have died, and you... You!" She stood up, pounded her fists on the door, "You did this!" She screamed, "You killed them!"

"No, Sasha. I didn't." The voice is small now, tiny. "I didn't... You did."

----------------------------
A/N: *The following segments in italics are quite gory. If you don't like gore, you can skip it*

She'd seen Emily in her dream. Emily, who had saved her by stepping in front of the chainsaw,  only to be savagely ripped to shreds. The jagged shark's teeth of the chainsaw shredded through bone and flesh. Shards of straw-yellow bone broke away from her body as slivers of skin were reduced to ribbons of flesh. Big chunks, flying away like birds of destruction and blood. The ground below her was splattered in thick, dark pools of blood. It streaked Sasha's skin, warm and sticky. 

The man with the chainsaw disappeared, leaving Emily alone in the middle of the dark forest. An owl hooted from a nearby tree, a harsh contrast to the bloody scene happening before her. "E...Em..i..Emily?" Sasha stuttered, struggling to get the words out through her mouth. 

Emily turned, her body twisted, incomplete. Her eyes were missing, blood flowing from the empty sockets, black-red rivulets streaming down her face. Her ears were gone, leaving tattered edges where cartilage used to be, trails of blood smeared down her neck.

Her mouth was split wide, torn open. A wound that ran from ear to ear. Strings of shredded tissue and sinew dangled from her torn lips, blood pouring in torrents over her chin and soaking her clothes. 

Sasha could do nothing but stand there and helplessly scream.

Emily's shattered limbs creaked like old wooden doors being pushed open as they twisted unnaturally. The sound of wet, squelching filled the air as she reached out a hand, words lost in the waterfall of blood flowing from her open mouth. It sounded almost like she was trying to tell Sasha something, like she was telling her who killed her.

Then, all of a sudden, and without warning, Emily lunged. Her hands rose, her fingers brushed Sasha's neck, and her gums formed into blood-red, fleshy shards of razor-sharp teeth.

----

Sasha woke with a jump. She bolted straight out of bed, crashing into the wall on the other side of her room, her hand covering her mouth to muffle the screams tumbling over her lips. She couldn't even remember the exact time she'd fallen asleep. She'd finished her work somewhere around Midnight and must've fallen asleep shortly after. But the nightmare made no sense; she'd never even met Emily, so why did her dream depict the girl so well? Was her subconscious somehow blaming her for not being there? For not saving Emily? But that was in a library, not the forest.

Maybe it was a clue or something? Or just a horrible nightmare her brain had conjured up.

Her phone rang, and when Sasha picked it up, she saw her Nan's name pasted across the screen, so she accepted the call. "Hey," She said.

"Did I wake you?" Her Nan asked.

"Nah," Sasha replied.

"That's good. Do you have lessons today?" Her Nan asked.

"Yeah," Sasha replied again; she could barely get the words out, so she stuck with one-word answers for now; it was the safest way.

"I saw about that girl on the news." Her Nan said. Sasha had to stop herself from whimpering. "Very sad what happened. Are police scanning the area and everything?"

What was the point of having this conversation? "I don't want to talk about it." She groaned.

"I'm sure all this horrible stuff is dredging up memories, but you need to focus here. You need to be in the present, not the past. Make your time memorable. Make the most of Uni."

"What's the point?" Sasha sighed, "All they have to do is Google my name... my real name and... They find out all about me. All of my friends will turn their backs; this links back to me. You don't get it, Gran. You can't possibly get it, but this death, Emily's death. Is my fault. So, what's the point?"

"Yes, they said on the news that that girl named Emily was also from Brooklyn. But that doesn't mean it has anything to do with you. The point is that that's not you anymore. You have to stop blaming yourself for what happened."

"But-"

"No." Her Nan said sternly. "I won't have it. Your Mum sent you to live with me in the hopes that all of those negative thoughts would stop. I know she was your friend, Sasha. But you're not to blame." They weren't talking about Emily anymore.

Sasha's grip tightened on the phone, her knuckles turning white. "Gran, you don't understand."

"I understand more than you think," her Nan said softly, the sternness easing. "But you can't carry this forever, love."

There was silence on the line, the kind that made her heart feel heavy like it might give in.

"I need to go," Sasha muttered, her voice cracking.

"Alright," her Nan replied after a beat. "But remember what I said. You deserve to move on."

Sasha ended the call without saying another word, and she stared at the screen, her reflection faint against the ocean of black. The guilt didn't just sit in her chest; it was stitched into every one of her bones. She tossed the phone onto the bed and buried her face in her hands.

By the time she was dressed, she had splashed water on her face and gone to the bathroom. She felt better; the images of her nightmare had fully dissolved into the abyss of the dream world. She checked her Messenger app and saw messages from Lennie and screenshots of messages between Lennie and Roscoe.

Lennie: Did you do it?
Roscoe: Yes. The person behind MeeMaw63 is Charlie Priest.
Lennie: Charlie Priest?
Roscoe: Yeah, she's a second-year student. She's in the SU as well. I managed to do a quick online search.

Underneath that, Lennie had included a screenshot of the information Roscoe had found online about Charlie Priest. Sasha tapped on it to expand it. She let her eyes skim over the words, and something caught in her throat. She ignored all the information and disclaimers about the profile she was looking at and just read the most important information.

Name: Miss Charlie Priest
Date of Birth: 13/12/2002
ID Number: 77048213

Underneath was Charlie's out-of-term address and her address during term time. She lived in the flat next to Sasha's. Next to the printed information was a picture of Charlie, a girl with black curly hair that dipped around her shoulders, wide blue eyes full of curiosity, and a smile that could charm the roar out of a lion. Sasha shuddered. Was that the face of a killer?

Everyone was a suspect.

She opened her bedroom door and walked to the kitchen. "Morning." Lennie grinned at her as she pushed through the door. Sasha smiled. She wandered over to the fridge and pulled out the carton of milk. She unscrewed the lid to drink some straight from the bottle. Then she put it back without a second thought. Lennie was watching her carefully.

"Morning," Sasha replied.

"Do you want a coffee?" Lennie asked, like she always did. The door was pushed open again, and Riley walked in.

He didn't bother to say anything as he opened the door to his cupboard and grabbed a spoon that hadn't been cleaned and was littered with remains of chocolate. He grabbed the jar of Nutella and walked over to the table, where he sat down, kicking his feet onto the chair below him. He ripped the lid off the jar and spooned some Nutella into his mouth. Both Sasha and Lennie were staring at him.

"Ew," Lennie said. She grabbed the bottle of fairy washing-up liquid, "You want some of this?" she asked. He just smirked at her.

"So, tell me more about Charlie." Riley grinned a macabre smile. "Did Roscoe say any more about her?"

"Only that she's a second-year student, like Emily." Lennie shrugged and flicked the tiny plastic pedal on the side of the kettle. The water began to boil with a short hiss, the water bouncing inside its oval-shaped copper body. "So, I guess we have our connection.

Riley frowned, "I hardly think that being a second-year student is a connection. There's got to be at least over a thousand students here that are second year, so why did Charlie kill Emily out of them all?"

"We don't know that Charlie killed Emily," Sasha said quickly. "We can't make speculations. Everyone's a suspect."

Riley glanced at her, his eyes hardening, his jaw tightening. Sasha frowned. "There has to be some kind of connection; Charlie just so happened to be going to the library after Emily said she was. I don't buy that for a second."

"Maybe... Maybe we can talk to Charlie?" Lennie suggested. "The screenshot had her ID Number in it, we could email her and ask to meet, maybe in a safe place like the University Starbucks? We can get a coffee, chat, and figure out what's going on."

"You really think that Charlie would agree to meet a random stranger?" Sasha frowned, not agreeing.

"Yeah, I'm not so sure." Riley agreed, "I definitely wouldn't agree to meet someone who randomly emailed me. Safe place or not? Especially given that someone's just been killed on campus?"

"That's a good point." Lennie considered.

The door opened again, and Riley returned to spooning Nutella into his mouth as Jaide stepped into the kitchen. Jaide, who'd kicked Sasha off the investigation, according to Lennie. Sasha felt her jaw tighten.

"Are you going to the memorial tonight?" Jaide glanced around at the three of them.

"What memorial?" Lennie frowned.

"Some people on Reddit are talking about a small memorial thing. Anyone is welcome. It's happening on the green outside the Nexus." The Nexus was the beating heart of the campus. It was where the students collected mail and parcels and where they picked up their keys when they first moved in. Sasha occasionally went there to grab a snack from the vending machine on her way to the library. It was also where Riley worked out at the gym. It made sense to have the memorial there because it was accessible to every student on campus.

"How small is it?" Lennie asked.

"Pretty small, I think." Jaide replied, "The message on Reddit doesn't have many likes, and only a handful of people have replied saying they'll be there, but of course, that doesn't mean that more people won't go."

Riley grinned at Sasha. "Is it possible that Charlie could go?" He whispered to her. "Maybe we can meet her there."

Sasha was just about to answer when the door opened again, and Roscoe walked in. Why did he have to come in? It had been his idea to kick Sasha off the investigation, the investigation that had been her whole idea. Looking at him made her feel sick. He let the door close behind him as he moved quickly toward Jaide and meshed their faces together. "Really?" Lennie smirked.

Sasha looked away, anywhere but at the two, making out. Jaide pushed Roscoe off her after a second, laughing. "We were talking about the memorial." She told him, his whole body slacking at the mention of the memorial. His libido was lost.

"Someone's dead," Sasha said, letting her frustration get the better of her. "Someone is dead, and all you care about is sex." She fixed Roscoe with a steady gaze, a fierce determination in her eyes. "Have some respect," and she stormed out of the room.

She walked into her bedroom, grabbed her laptop, shoved it into her backpack and left her room, locking the door behind her. Roscoe was standing in the corridor, leaning against the wall next to the kitchen. He glanced up at Sasha, and she stared at him. "Did you hear anything interesting when you listened to the voice recording?" He asked, his dark eyes shining.

"What voice recording?" She asked.

He smirked, cocking an eyebrow. "You know exactly what voice recording I'm talking about."

She shook her head, feigning innocence. "I don't know anything about a voice recording. Excuse me, I have a lesson to go to."

Roscoe nodded. "For sure," he stood up straighter, getting his legs out of her way, "see you at the memorial later."

She didn't say anything as she walked past him. How had she managed to lose a friend through this? Roscoe was acting like a jerk, and Sasha wasn't a fan of it. A tiny voice in her head laughed, "Everyone's a suspect." It reminded her, what if this had nothing to do with Charlie and everything to do with Roscoe?

Maybe she had to look closer to home.