"Richie," Called a voice in the darkness. "Richie," It called again, teasing in tone and ever approaching. "I'm coming for you!"

"Help!" Richie screamed, darting through the hallways of Hatchetfield High. He'd allowed Richie to run, opened the doors, and cackled as Richie ran for his life. Max Jagerman was back and he was PISSED. "Please, anybody!" Richie frantically banged on the windows of a classroom, praying someone at the football game would hear him. This wasn't happening, this wasn't happening, THIS WASN'T HAPPENING.

"Aww," Max chastised, his voice mocking Richie's pitiful attempt at escape. Richie heaved, doubling over onto his knees and coughing. "I almost forgot you were an autistic," Richie looked up, confused, catching his breath.

"Asthmatic?" He corrected it and regretted it immediately. He got one swift punch to the nose that knocked him down again.

"Don't fucking correct me, NERD" Max boomed, towering over Richie. Though Richie barely ever stood at his full height, usually found hunched and making himself small, Max's aura made him large and in charge. He was the golden boy of Hatchetfield, star quarterback. Or, at least, he was. Until Richie and his friends caused his untimely death.

"How are you here?" Richie questioned and cried, his hands raised to protect his face. "Y-You're dead, you're dead," He whispered, mostly to himself as if to confirm that he'd seen Max Jagerman die.

"How I'm here doesn't matter, SHITLIPS," He yelled, "I'm here, and you? You're the first nerd on my fucking list, bitch!" Max stalked closer and Richie ran. He cursed his squeaky brown boots that gave away his movements as he zagged through the halls. Max's ghost powers granted him telekinesis, and he used it to slam doors in Richie's face. To Richie's absolute horror, he also used it to direct him and taunt him.

Richie screamed as the skin on his back split open and poured blood. He barely had time to mourn the loss of his favorite anime sweatshirt before Max was on him again, dealing blow after blow to his skull and causing an intense ringing in Richie's ears before disappearing again. Richie sobbed and pulled a small photo out of his vest pocket. His uncle, Paul, and his best friends, Peter and Ruth, all huddled around the most recent Thanksgiving they'd all attended like a messed-up family. After Peter's brother disappeared and Ruth's parents found out she was gay, their lives turned upside down.

"Uncle Paul," He croaked, his voice hoarse from the beatings. "I'm so sorry..." Then Richie smiled. He thought he still had some semblance of hope. His phone was in his locker, he just had to reach it. If he could, he could contact Peter or Paul and get help. He was saved! He stood and booked it towards his locker, cursing the school for using the same blue hue for every student. He finally found 307 and threw the locker open. "tsk tsk tsk," He heard echoing down the hallway. "You really thought it'd be that easy?" Max taunted.

Richie cursed under his breath and tried to control his trembling hands. His hands were his biggest concern now, another scream echoing gutturally from his throat as Max slammed the locker shut around his fingers. "Max!" He screamed, horrifyingly listening to his voice as it chased the silence of the halls.

"It's okay, Richie," Max cooed, his middle finger tracing up Richie's spine and over the cut on his back that split his many layers of clothing. "I won't hurt you," He flashed his award-winning smile, and Richie almost relaxed. He didn't dare release the tension in his shoulders as Max gripped them tight, opening the locker so Richie could cradle his bleeding hand.

"Y-You won't?" Richie fought back tears, knowing how Max hated to see a sign of weakness. Or, he supposed to himself at that moment, perhaps he loved weakness in others. He could use that. He would use that.

"Of course not! All you have to do..." Max trailed off, seemingly lost in a peaceful thought. Richie's heart raced as he waited, finally able to loosen up as Max put his hands in the coat of his letterman. "Is outrun me." Max grinned evilly, shoving Richie back with an unholy force.

Richie did, for a moment. But the little anime geek was no match for a football elite. His lungs burned and seized as he ran, but he couldn't worry about his inhaler right now. He froze as he found himself in the swimming hall of Hatchetfield High. "Oh shit," He turned heel and ran again, slamming into the chest of Max Jagerman.

"Care for a little dip?" He chuckled, lifting Richie by the collar and throwing him into the pool. He panicked as the water invaded his space, his layers soaked and became too weighed for him to bear. His vest floated to the bottom of the pool as Richie hiked himself over the side and ran again, never taking notice of how much of his blood he left behind.

Trails of water followed him, even as he sustained more injuries from Max toying with him. He stopped begging for his life, failing to see the point. Max had been teasing him for hours, leaving him constantly on the brink of death and leaving him to pull himself back time and time again. He thought about Peter, the way he'd be laughing and smiling with his new crush. Or Ruth, how she'd be throwing herself at the jocks and being horribly rejected. His Uncle Paul would miss him so much...

The photo he had was ruined by the water and perfectly disintegrated around only his face on the bottom left. He knew what it meant - He was dead, sooner or later. He could only pray for as quick and painless as Max Jagerman would offer.

Richie tripped as he finally ran into the boys' bathroom on the first floor, nursing the laceration on his stomach that Max had dealt mere moments before. He gasped and choked as Max lifted him by the throat and threw him back, smashing the base of his skull against one of the urinals. "I'm sorry, Max, I'm so sorry," He cried into his trembling hands, "We never wanted this, we never wanted you dead."

"Is that why you replaced me, Shitlips? Is that why you took my friends and made them your fucking equals? I ruled Hatchetfield High like a GOD! I will NOT be taken down by a fucking nerd!" He grabbed Richie with both hands, the struggle tearing away what was left of Richie's shirts.

He winced and screamed as Max pulled his nipples between his index finger and thumb, pulling and twisting until the pieces of flesh came off, pouring blood down his chest. Richie coughed, the intense event leading his mouth to bleed. Max then yanked on Richie's hair, banging his skull against the porcelain.

Richie's eyes glossed over and he stuttered and stumbled over words that made no coherent sense as Max dragged him over to the toilet and shoved his head in. The water bubbled and gurgled and Richie barely fought back, too weak from the hours he had been tortured. The moment he stopped moving, Max laughed. A beautiful laugh, like he had just witnessed the most pleasing event. Then, he disappeared, off to kill another nerdy prude.

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Artwork by screameek on DA