Chapter Text
“Bitch!!”
A loud crash as his back hits a bookshelf with substantial force, knocking down several bits and bobs from the shelves. I don’t have much time to assess the situation as I’m scrambling with all my willpower to get back onto my feet. The room is spinning, and cold sweat is running down my forehead but I can’t let up. I have to get away or I’m dead. I may be a drop out disappointment with no future - broken promises, lost potential and all that, but I’d still very much like not dying tonight. At best my mom and my stepdad would attend my funeral. At worst, Nathan’s dad, Sean Prescott, would make my body disappear and my fate would forevermore be a cold case. My legacy - the topic of the occasional true crime podcast. What really happened to Chloe Price? Find out, after a word from our sponsor.
I hear Nathan screaming behind me, but all that matters is the brief wind on my face when his dorm room door swings open. An adrenaline rush rejuvenates me when I run out into the empty, dark corridor that might as well be the road to paradise… in more ways than one.
“Get the fuck back here, Price!”
My body isn’t fully cooperating with me yet, especially not my legs, but I’m a fast runner regardless. It’ll take more than a spiked drink to stop my escape. Tonight went all kinds of wrong. I was out looking for some sucker to get an easy payday for mine and Rachel’s Get the fuck out of Arcadia Bay fund. I thought Nathan would be an easy score, drunkenly waving around dollar bills in the bar. He seemed stupid enough, arrogant, flirting with me as if I had a price tag stapled onto my forehead for a quick lay. I got too careless. Never drink anything you didn’t pour yourself, Chloe, you fucking idiot.
Heavy footsteps echo through the hallway. I turn around and see him there, standing like a looming shadow that then suddenly merges with the darkness around him. A brief question enters my mind but it dissipates when the front door opens up to freedom. Blackwell Campus, I’ve always fucking hated you but I’ve never been happier to see you than now. I slam the door shut and bolt away from the building, into the rainy night towards the school parking lot. My truck is still at the bar so legs, please keep moving. It’s not far.
“I think he gave up…”
I whisper to myself under my breath. My legs carry me across the parking lot but the drugs in my system catch up and I vomit straight onto the ground in front of me, a foul cocktail of orange chunky goodness. Can’t stop for too long, I need to keep going. Fight through my unstable legs and spinning surroundings.
I don’t know exactly what Nathan put in my drink but as I’m reaching the alley a block away, a distinct smell of something I can only describe as freshly burnt sulfur invades my senses. I need to sleep this off, possibly get high, then get back to finding Rachel so we can leave this shithole together, a mission that we now undoubtedly have to speed up cause Sean Prescott owns this town, along with a fuckton more of the country. You can barely go anywhere without seeing any of his Prescorp Industries logos anywhere and being within walking distance of his son on the daily won’t be a good idea. Not after tonight. I am not about to join the rumor pile about girls disappearing from this town.
I make my way through the dark alley, supporting myself on the wall with one hand. One more turn, two streets ahead, past the traffic light and the town art center. I can hear the music from here, day 1 of some big shot fashion exhibit over the weekend but it means nothing to me except that in two minutes I’ll be in my truck-
“Not so fast, punk.”
Cold metal is pushed against my forehead, accompanied by the menacing click of the hammer locking into place. I take a step back but the barrel of the gun follows me, harder into my skull - undoubtedly leaving an indent. My breath hitches, got to think - my torso feels rigid, frozen in place by the threat of the gun. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. This is real. Too real. I’m way in over my head.
“H-… hey…”
I stutter, eyes fixed on the glistening steel.
“We can… can w- work this ou-“
*WHACK!*
The ground is wet and rough. I’m not completely sure where I am. A dull ache pulses through the left side of my head. A voice?
“… et fmm tnnng to play me.”
The words… echoey… ringing… Nathan?
More pain, my stomach getting acquainted with steel toed boots. Electricity shoots through me and my body pulls itself together like a dead spider, trying to protect my soft squishy insides.
“You like that, bitch?”
His face is close, his slow, drawn out words caresses me like a toxic cloud. The stench of alcohol swarms my face. I sob, cursing at myself for showing weakness in front of him.
“You want to fucking die?”
I’m hyperventilating, can’t talk. Please, God. I don’t want to die. Think, Chloe! You can get out of this. There has to be a way. There is always a way. Breathe.
“I should kill you right now, just like your slut friend.”
Rachel?
“Wh-… wha-… Rachel? Dead?”
Nathan swiftly gets back on his feet, eyes wide, clutching his face rampantly while cursing up a storm. What did he say? Did he do something to her? I need to know.
“Shit. FUCK! Look what you made me do, BITCH!”
The air is still now. Ears ringing from a thunderclap. Nature’s orchestra is winding down, just like the rest of me. I’m waiting for applause from the adoring audience as the last reverberations from the gunshot dies out but there is nothing but light ambience. Footsteps, fast and rhythmic moving away from me, as well as a voice, frantic, incoherent, disappearing. Cold rain on my face, running down my cheeks alongside my tears. Rachel is dead. With a lot of effort I open my eyes and look down onto my shirt. What was previously white is stained with darkness. I feel… I don’t feel much of anything but an ache inside of me, not from the bullet, but from my heart breaking from grief. I can’t move, but why should I? I feel so tired… I should just close my eyes… Rachel… I’m sorry… Will you be there? Will you explain to me why you left?
I take what feels like my last breath and experience a serene stillness. A light? Seagulls, calm ocean waves, a voice, soft and precious - a memory. This is perfect. It’ll be ok. In the end, she came back to me.