User: KnightoftheRealm

I've never been so happy to see the sun rise.

We've had a heck of time last night. Between keeping watch, patrolling the floor, and remaining alert for any small noise or movement, our nerves are frayed. Coffee made the other kids jittery, but drinking it made me feel sleepier. Desperate to stay awake, I goad Adam into challenging me to a chip eating contest. Bryn joins in, but needless to say, I won.

Then, I while I'm on watch, my partner won't shut up. I may or may not yell at them, and it might be possible that I trip one of our traps, but it's definitely not true that I throw up in the hallway.

At least, I think that's what happened. Everything's a little fuzzy after I guzzle a liter of Mountain Dew to stay awake at 2 am.

By the time the sun came up, we're exhausted, cross, and ready to get away from each other. Suddenly, a muffled crackling sound fills the room. It sounds like the PA system in the hall has just been turned on.

"Macbeth has been caught, but we urge you to be on guard for further attacks. Thank you."

"Now I have to return all the stuff I 'borrowed' without the police noticing," Ariadne groans as she rolls her eyes.

Anxiety shows on her face, causing me to blurt out, "Don't worry. You can leave it here for now," I add, "then swing by and return it after the dance. It'll be easier to lug everything across campus in the dark." She flashes me a grateful smile.

Amidst tired grumbles and frustrated groans, the five of us put away our stuff and take down the traps we set up last night. After a little while, the girls head back to their dorm, chattering about the dance, with Adam trailing behind them.

"Students and Staff, I am pleased to announce a School Dance for tomorrow night in the Courtyard. You may dress formal, and have dates and do everything else you high schoolers do at these things." Blackwell's voice drips with disdain, and I can hardly believe what I'm hearing. A party? Now? Revulsion washes over me at Blackwell and Bennett's callousness, but I feel some regret that the school will be closing.

I spend the next few hours packing before dropping exhausted into bed. The next day, I clean up the crumbs from our chip-eating contest, and read my old comics until I hop in the shower a little before the dance. When I come out, I pad over to my closet, ready to wrestle myself into my evening attire.

While I tug on my too-short slacks and tie on my gleaming shoes, I realize I haven't seen Bryn for a while. Bryn knows how to take care of himself, I think, trying to brush away my worries. Besides, the murderers had been caught. Right?

Wrong.

Frantic, I look through Bryn's notes and charts about the murder. According to his data, Hamilton only confessed to five murders, and four of the bodies were "artistically" mutilated by the painter. That means that seven of the killings were committed by an unknown perpetrator.

At least one killer was still on campus.

Letting out a curse, I shove Bryn's papers back onto his bed. I'd lost my phone so I couldn't text Bryn, but I could still try to make sure the others were ok. Ariadne and Danielle were probably together. Adam had left with them...but he was probably alone now.

As I struggle into my shirt and jacket, I catch a glimpse of shiny black material on my bed. Ariadne's weapons and body armor are still there. Quickly, I tear off the clothes I'd put on seconds earlier and buckle one of the bulletproof vests on over my undershirt. I finish dressing, swipe a brush through my hair, and place the weapons and armor in my backpack before racing over to Adam's dorm.

At his dorm, I pound on the door for a while until he answers, tousle-headed but otherwise unchanged. While Adam finishes getting ready, I explain my hunch about the remaining killer or killers and show him the armor. By the time Adam is suited up, my watch reads seven fifty-five, causing us to run to the main courtyard.

As we jog up the last rise, I see Ariadne and Danielle walking towards the dance. Seeing Joan is with them, Adam smiles with relief. One of the girls turns and we run a little faster, waving our hands for them to stop.

"Hey, wait up!" Adam yells. He reaches the girls before I do, leaning over to catch his breath. I'm so relieved to see them that I grin like a loon. The girls are staring at us, Ariadne has a smirk playing on her lips, and before I know what I'm doing I hear myself speak.

"We were going to ask you to the dance..." I trail off, realizing what I'm saying.

Adam sees my burning cheeks and jumps in. "But we didn't want to pick favorites."

"So we're going to ask all of you! As a group," I finish lamely. Danielle looks at us with mock horror, Ariadne is immobile, while to my right I hear Joan choking.

"I am NOT going with my cousin, thank you very much!" She exclaims disgustedly.

"Fine then, in your case, only Leo is asking you," Adam says cheerfully, causing Joan to roll her eyes. I'm ready to pummel Adam myself. When did I agree to ask out a junior? "Anyways, we've got even better news!" Adams points to my bulging stomach, causing a round of snickers which I ignore.

"You may have noticed that we may appear slightly bulkier than you last saw us," I explain, "but contrary to popular belief, we have not worked out or ingested a lot of junk food." Ariadne raises her eyebrow in annoyance, while Danielle rolls her eyes and mutters "chip eating contest."

Adam shoots them a glare and continues. "We, being the geniuses that we are, put on this!" Pulling his shirt down, he reveals the bulletproof vest he's wearing. The girls looks surprised, but they seem genuinely impressed with the idea.

"Dang it! We should have done that!" Ariadne grumbles.

I pull off my backpack and unzip it. "Good thing for you, we brought extras."

As we give the girls Tasers, pepper spray, and bulletproof vests, I explain my worries. Like Adam, they understand my logic and quickly agree. Then, Joan twirls her finger in our direction several times, then hisses angrily. "Turn around!" We obey. Behind us, I hear whispers and rustling fabric, and I realize they must be hiding their weapons, and putting on their vests.

"Ok, you can turn back around now!" Danielle sings out.

Facing them, I see no sign of their weapons. In disbelief, I ask, "Did you just stick them in your--" I can't finish and my neck starts to burn.

"--Brassiere?" Adam saves me for the second time tonight.

"Yes, you got any better idea?" Turning red, I shake my head. "I thought not. Now let's go," Joan says briskly. I troop after her meekly, enduring the snickers of the group.

Reaching the dance, a deafening blast of music drowns us, and a roiling mass of bodies threatens to swallow our group as we try to stay together at the edges of the crowd. After the pain, horror, and fear of the past few weeks, the crowd on the dance floor is jumping and gyrating with wild abandon, acting like the kids they are instead of the quivering wrecks they'd been reduced to. The growing night casts the party in shivering shadows, reducing the bodies to a hellish-looking mass of humanity.

It's too close, too tight. Too many people.

It's too easy for an "accident" to occur.

Too likely that something bad will happen.

"Where do you want to go?!" Ariadne's yell floats over the noise. I can barely hear the discussion, but they agree to have a nearby light pole as our rendezvous point. Dani, Joan, and Adam take off, heading to get punch that's probably been spiked. I amuse myself by watching the dancing, feeling faintly disgusted at the dancers' antics.

Strangely, the silence between Ariadne and I feels like a growing chasm, and I cast desperately about for something to say, choosing the classic "What's taking them so long?"

"I dunno, maybe they got lost," Ariadne answers vaguely.

"We chose this pole so that they wouldn't get lost," I point out.

"Oh right. Well maybe they got stuck behind the crowd." She gestures at the dark mass. Nodding, my gaze sweeps over them, dancing in wild abandon, not caring about who's around them or if anyone's recording them or what they parents will say. And I realize, a little belatedly, that this is my last time at Carter Hollow, my last time with these kids, these infinitely intelligent and beautiful people whose lives are like dreams or fairy tales.

Out of the corner of my eye, I look at Ariadne. She's tall, I suppose, and fairly attractive, with her strange eyes, dark hair, and serious, elegant face. And, yes, she's slim and pale, but the lighting makes her seem dark and mysterious. She looks like the queen of shadows...beautiful.

I'll never see her again, so I figure, why not take a risk?

Gallantly, I turn to Ariadne and offer a half-bow, extending my hand. "Well, there's no point really waiting anymore so...would you like to dance?" It might be my imagination or the light, but I swear I see her eyes sparkle and her cheeks flush as her mouth splits into a grin.

"Of course."

As I sweep Ariadne into a waltz, the music is fast and electronic, but we manage to glide through the crowd, sticking mostly to the edges. Alcohol and flowers perfume the air around us, a soft breeze ruffles my hair, garish lights dapple our faces and I still can't believe I'm dancing with a beautiful girl.

"That color really suits you," Ariadne says suddenly. I can't tell if she means black or white, and I look worriedly at her face, hoping she isn't mocking me. Seeing the sparks of laughter dancing in her eyes, I realize she means the ungodly color covering my face.

"Haha, very funny. Maybe I should wear it all the time," I say drily.

"You should. It's quite unfortunate that our uniforms aren't that color," Ariadne sighs.

"Such a tragedy...maybe I'll just paint myself that color and that'll take care of everything."

Ariadne laughs at my ridiculous answer, and I reply with a giddy smile we spin under the first stars.

"Do you think we're going to die?" The question is sudden, cutting sharply into my euphoric daze.

"Eventually we all will," I say softly. I can see my answer hasn't satisfied her, so I focus on her dress, my shoes, the crowd around us, hoping she won't clarify her question, that she won't force me to tell her the truth.

"No. I mean tonight," Ariadne says.

Blood rushes in my ears, sweat rolls down my warm hands, and I feel my face go blank. Dimly I realize my feet are rooted to the floor, but is doesn't matter. Not when I'm running through plans and escapes and defensive positions in my head and trying to find a way to get my friends out of here safely and save the school and catch the killer but I know there's absolutely nothing I can do to guarantee I'll save everyone I care about and—

Hah. I care about people. I didn't think I was capable of feeling love.

Ariadne crashes into me and snaps me out of my thought and she's staring at me with her eerie eyes, reminding me of Persephone with shadows wrapped around her, and I have to give her an answer, any answer because I know I owe her for humoring my request for a dance.

"We might," I say. Bitterness seeps into my words, somehow making the truth harsher and more toxic. But Ariadne just looks at me, cutting into me with her sharp gaze. For a few infinitely long moments I hate Ariadne for reading my anger and shame that I feel love but I know she can't see anything. It's only my imagination, and she pulls me back into our dance.

"Thank you," she breathes gladly, looking relieved and free.

Confused, I ask, "What for?"

"For telling the truth." That makes sense, I suppose.

Our dance is much tenser after that, drained of its carefree purpose. The music is harsh and grating, the lights garish and blinding, and the best we can do is keep spiraling around the dance floor to keep a lookout on the crowd.

As the song ends, the moon rises, seemingly swollen with the promise of danger, borne aloft by currents of fear.