9. Victor Blackwood

I crouched in the tree outside Lara's big house, my breath shallow, my limbs stiff from holding still for so long. It had been three hours since I stopped watching over Anne's place—just long enough to make sure she was asleep. I couldn't risk her seeing me out tonight. Not during this.

Maybe it was pride, but if I let Lara keep spitting on Anne's name and dragging my reputation through the dirt, I'd be no kind of man. She needed to be taken down—just enough to remind her she wasn't untouchable. Just enough to protect Anne. My Anne.

From here I had a clear view of Lara's bedroom window. I'd been watching her mundane activity for the last hour—straightening her hair, layering on makeup she didn't need, and wouldn't benefit from. All that effort, and she still looked like the same smug, washed-out whore. Ugly on the inside, worse on the outside.

Inside the house, everyone was already gone for the night.

Her parents hadn't even checked in on their three kids before disappearing into their bedroom—medicated and indifferent. Her sister had snuck in some deadbeat boyfriend, and they were out cold after screaming at the maids and finishing half a bottle of vodka. The brother had slipped out hours ago, probably up to God knows what. Even the housekeepers were gone, mumbling curses in Punjabi on her phone as she left, slamming the door behind her.

All before 8 pm.

All that dysfunction—and it still didn't excuse Lara. If it didn't ruin Anne, it shouldn't have ruined her.

Another hour passed. I watched Lara scroll mindlessly on her phone, pop some green pills—Xanax, maybe—and drift into a stupor. The last light in her room finally blinked out.

Game time.

I tightened the straps on my bag, reached out, and cracked her window open. It groaned softly, but I didn't care. I'd opened it before. She always slept with those chunky noise-canceling headphones anyway. It’s the only way she could sleep at night.

I slipped in, closing the window behind me.

Lara was sprawled in bed, blanket kicked off one leg, her head turned slightly, lips parted. She looked peaceful. Undeservedly so. I stood there a long moment, just watching her breathe. So unaware. So unbothered by the pain she'd caused.

She had lied about Anne—said she was sleeping around, trashing her name, feeding bullshit to the worst people in school. And for what? Jealousy? Spite? She even insulted Anne's eye. That alone was enough.

Anne had covered for her once. Lied for her. And Lara repaid her by trying to rip her apart. That's when I knew Lara had to go.

I raised my hand and brought it down—hard—across her face.

The crack echoed in the silence.

Lara bolted upright with a gasp, eyes blinking, unfocused from the drugs. "What... Victor?" she slurred, rubbing her cheek. "What the hell? Why are you in my house?"

I stared coldly. "Why are you doing what you're doing about Anne?"

She squinted at me, not fully registering. "You broke in to talk about that loser? Are you serious?" Her lip curled. "Who breaks into houses to talk? Are you sure you didn't come for something else?"

"I'm not going to kill you," I said with a smile. "But I am here to give you what you deserve. Your karma's been on layaway, and I'm done waiting."

She started to speak—maybe to scream—but I lunged before she could.

We crashed to the ground with a thud, her body struggling beneath mine. I hadn't expected much of a fight—not with the drugs—but she nailed me in the face with a surprise knee, blood blooming from my nose instantly.

I reeled back with a curse. "You bitch—"

Lara shoved me off, throwing me into the bedpost with more strength than she had any right to have. I stumbled, stunned, and we both froze for a second—blinking, catching our breath.

She wasn't supposed to be like this. Not strong. Not clear-headed.

This wasn't going to be as easy as I thought.

Nothing about this girl was ever easy.

Was it?

Lara didn't hesitate. She swung a broomstick she pulled out of nowhere with full force and struck me square in the ribs.

"Fucking psycho!" she shrieked, kicking me in the side as I doubled over, gasping. "You absolute creep! You break into people's homes like this?!"

"You need to pay for what you did!" I screamed.

"Shut up!" she added, spitting venom, "Anne's a piece of shit!"

I froze mid-breath.

"What the fuck did you just say?"

"I knew something wasn't right about you!" she hissed.

"What?"

She stepped closer. "Even if you kill me, none of this stops. You know Craig wants to fuck her! Ever since freshman year!"

Anne. Craig wanted Anne? Of course I dreamed about fucking her all day...but Craig?

That sick, smug idiot wanted my angel?

My pulse pounded. My vision went hot.

I slapped Lara across the face so hard it echoed through the room. She fell to the floor like a ragdoll. I didn't take my eyes off her—not for a second. She wobbled, stunned, struggling to stand.

I grabbed her arms to lift her back up. Something gave with a pop. She let out a twisted, silent cry and dropped again, crumpled in pain.

"So," I said slowly, crouching beside her, "you want to mess with Anne?"

"What? Is that all you took from what I said?" Lara's voice was thick, her face already bruising.

"You told her to stay away from me," I whispered.

"That's not—" she started, but I hit her again before she could finish. The second hit made her reel, stumbling backward in shock.

"I didn't even do anything to you!" she cried. "Why are you—"

"Didn't anyone ever teach you?" I said, voice low. "You choose the behavior... you choose the consequences."

I leaned closer, eyes fixed on hers. "Or maybe you need to hear it this way—evil never wins."

"N-no! Please! I was just joking!" she begged, voice breaking. "The joke's gone too far! I'm sorry! Don't hurt me!"

"But you wanted Anne to get hurt like this," I hissed. "So why should you be spared?"

She scrambled back, breath hitching, eyes wild with panic.

"Victor! Come on! This isn't you!"

But it was. It is. It had to be. I grabbed her by the hair again and dragged her up—she shrieked, and I threw her toward the wall in the hallway. She hit it hard, the drywall cracking behind her.

She slumped, gasping, sobbing.

"P-please..." she whimpered.

Still conscious. Impressive.

"Please what?" I sneered. "Please hit me? Well if you insist—"

I struck her with the back of my hand. She collapsed again, spitting blood onto the floor.

"I'm sorry, I took it too far! PLEASE STOP!!" she screamed.

"Scream louder," I laughed, arms wide. "No one's coming! HELP HER! ANYONE?! PLEASE!!! SHES GOING TO DIE!!! PLEASE HELP HER!!!"

She cried harder, realizing no one was. But she never took her eyes off me.

Then I flipped the blade from my bag. Her screams turned raw. "I'll do whatever you want! Just don't hurt me anymore! Please! I'm so sorry!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!!" I snapped.

She froze, shaking, hyperventilating. Her eyes pleaded.

"Good. Now... I could stab you in the neck and let you bleed out, or I could call an ambulance and let you live."

"Please," she sobbed. "Call them. I'll do anything."

"You promise to say nothing about tonight?"

"I won't say anything."

"You promise to leave Anne and I alone?"

"Yes... I promise! I won't even think about her!"

I nodded. "Good girl."

Then I started dragging her toward the staircase.

"W-wait," she trembled, catching on. "You're going to kill me..."

"No," I whispered. "As long as you keep our promise, you live. But if you break it... I'll be back. No one will catch me."

She wept harder, her body limp. Then, she vomited all over herself.

"Tonight, you live," I said. "Only because Anne wouldn't want me to go further."

"What...?" she whimpered.

Then i did it.

I pushed Lara and stepped to the side, just as she lost her footing at the top of the stairs. The drugs dulled her reaction time. Her body tipped as she reached out for me a second too late.

"No—!"

Too late.

She tumbled down the stairs, screaming until she landed in a twisted heap at the bottom. The sound of the crash was... beautiful.

She broke like a twig.

I pulled out the burner phone.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"My sister fell... please hurry!"

I gave them her brother's name, number, and her address. Then I calmly walked down the stairs, kneeling next to her broken body.

She was barely conscious.

I pressed the blade gently to her throat.

"The ambulance is coming. Shame about those pills, huh?" I whispered. "Drugs are bad."

"D-don't let me die..." she rasped, grabbing at my ankle.

"You can live—if you tell me how this happened."

"I... I fell... because I'm on drugs..." she whimpered.

I smiled, ruffled her hair like she was some pathetic child, then walked out the front door and disappeared into the night.

It was perfect.

I did what needed to be done—for Anne.

By the time I reached the road, I couldn't hold back the laughter anymore.

Lara broke so easily I feel like dancing.

I've never felt so powerful.

And I knew—if I could do this... I could solve everything for Anne in the future. Our bond will become strong because I can do this for her.

Maybe next time, I'd record the scream.

Just for me.