Sever (Slayer Society #1)

By Justin Grey

Six months ago, high school king Sumner Shadows tried to kill his friends. He led them to a cemetery and tried to bleed them dry. And he almost succeeded. But his friends lived through the horror, and ended up committing their own heinous crime in the process. They covered up what they did, and Sumner got away. That was supposed to be the end.

But when a new girl moves to Armor Falls and has tangible evidence that Sumner might be back to finish what he started, the four friends he left behind are put to the test to learn what caused Sumner's sudden need to have them dead. But are they ready for the truth, and will it change what they thought was already real?

For Abram, Alex, Bridge, and Mercer, life is going to be an abyss of chaos as they begin retelling how they became friends with Sumner three years ago and everything he's put them through up until the fateful night he decided to sever ties with them once and for all. If Sumner is back, what are his motives? What does he want, and will his friends be able to survive his second coming?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Justin Grey
• Release date: Jun 20, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370824090

Justin Grey

Writer, reader, music needer. Currently working retail, and somehow surviving. Author of young adult fiction. Pisces and tattoo enthusiast. Finding happiness within the darkness is my aesthetic.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

TO DIE FOR

Six Months Ago

This is bad."

They all knew it was true. They knew the moment that they had stepped foot onto the land of Armor Falls Cemetery that their night had gone south. The four of them were a collective of panic while they stared down at the fallen body in front of them. A dead body. One of them, a tall man with hair as dark as the hour around them, paced in front of the body as his three friends stood shell shocked at the situation.

This is really bad. he said once more.

The only girl of their group, a beautiful brunette with long flowing tresses, ran a hand through her hair. Where is he? Where’s Sumner?

Lissa, who cares? There’s a body! The pacing man regarded her.

He lured us here. We have to find him.

Another young man of the group, with short brown hair done up in a pompadour style, stepped away from the body. We need to get out of here.

Where do you suggest we go, Mercer? The police? Arclan?

Somewhere that doesn’t involve us staring at a dead body, Bridge!

Enough!

The last of the group, a slightly scruffy buzzed blond, locked eyes with each of his friends. They couldn’t lose it. Not now. There was a murder involved, and Sumner was nowhere to be found. They couldn’t lose it now when they were so close to losing it all.

We’re going to prison. I’m gonna get life without parole. Bridge said with rigorous finality.

No one is going to prison.

Lissa eliminated the small distance between the tall blond and herself in response to his stiff words, grabbing his hand gingerly.

Abram, please tell me you have a plan.

He looked around, his eyes locking on the woods on the outskirts of the cemetery just behind them. The only option seemed to be alarmingly obvious.

Grab a leg.

1

Where It All Began

An alarm with a powerful screeching pitch brought Abram to a rushed consciousness. A sigh left his lips as he rolled over and thrashed his clock to a much needed silence with his palm. He ruffled his thick and short dark blond hair as he rose from his bed, shaking the nightmare he had relived during his slumber. That night played back over and over since he’d gotten home, like a cold that refused to leave him.

The blood. The dirt. The body.

He shook himself mentally. He had to push it as far out of his mind as he possibly could. He had other things to worry about.

Throwing off his deep red comforter, he made his way over to his full-length mirror, smiling at his toned, tanned skin physique that he’d been working on since he’d been...away. Of course, he averted his gaze from the scar on his chest. The one just above his heart.

He checked his phone, more out of habit than anything else, to avoid the traumatic scar. It wasn’t like he’d seen any of his friends, let alone heard from them, in the month since he’d been released. Not a single call, not a single text. Not even Lissa had responded.

Abram, you better be up and getting ready! Breakfast is almost done!

His mother’s warning caused him to smile. If there was one thing he was thankful for since he’d been home, it was just how supportive his family had been since he’d been to Arclan. He took a quick shower before he found himself ready and heading downstairs, where his mother was quick to usher him to the kitchen table, the buttery aroma of waffles wafting through the air.

As Abram sat down, he noticed that his little sister was reading the newspaper, and the headline gripped his attention.

Let me see that.

He grabbed the paper immediately out of her hands, turning his attention back to the headline that read ‘Six Months Since Student Stabbing’.

Abram scoffed as he saw a picture of his friends and himself snapped right after they had buried the body. Not that the forensic photographer or even the police knew that.

His mother took a seat, joining the family as she sat multiple plates of waffles and various syrups on the table. November St. James, her ebony skin glistening, gave her son a warm smile, causing him to mirror it.

How are you feeling, darling?

I’m fine, Mom. Just ready to get my first day back over with. He set the newspaper on the table, but his sister had moved on to her phone to browse the latest in pop culture news.

Abram’s father, the usually stoic Steven St. James, put his phone down from checking sports scores and addressed his son. Abe, if you’re not ready—

No! He shouted a little too quickly. I mean, no. I’m ready, Dad. Honest. I just don’t...it’s just going to be weird to be back in those halls.

He didn’t need to add that it would be weird without Sumner. It was so strange to Abram. He could hate Sumner with every atom he mustered and at the same time, he still missed his former best friend. He cleared his head. He couldn’t dwell on Sumner. That part of his life was behind him now. He needed to figure out what was going on with his other friends instead of dwelling on the person that had tried to kill him.

Willa, what have people been saying? Abram asked, eyes glued to his sister’s expression.

Nothing, she said calmly. We haven’t told them about anything.

Slowly, he eyed every member of his ebony skinned family, a contrast to his own sun-kissed ivory. You guys haven’t told the world that I was in a mental institution?

November grabbed her husband’s hand comfortingly before speaking. Sweetheart, of course your friends’ parents know, but we asked them to keep it to themselves after your friends visited because… she trailed off, but then looked to her husband to finish.

Steven cleared his throat. We wanted you to decide. So much control has been taken from you the past six months and we didn’t want to add to that. If you want to tell everyone exactly what happened, we support you. If not, we’ll continue to keep our lips sealed.

What we’re saying, is that you have a choice. This is your life and you get to choose what you do with it.

Abram, feeling completely overwhelmed at the kind hearts that made up his family, felt tears rising within him. I can’t believe you guys...trust me that much. He immediately got up and embraced his parents, smiles grazing their lips. Abram turned to his sister. And thank you for not saying anything. I know how hard that must be.

Laughing, Willa threw her arms around her brother. You’ll do great, Abe. They parted, allowing Willa to grab her keys and purse from the kitchen island. I’ll drive you. Don’t wanna be late for your grand re-entrance.

Mentally rolling his eyes at the fact that he’d been denied driving privileges for the time being, Abram nodded and grabbed their already prepared backpacks and bid their parents adieu, knowing that this moment of joy he was feeling would never be the same once he stepped foot into Westbrooke High for the last first time.

---

Westbrooke High School was buzzing with students who wanted to get there early, not that there were many of them. One of the few early birds happened to be Bridge Mathison. He was nervous, but not for reasons he normally would have been. He should be nervous by the fact that he was editing the school’s literary magazine, or that he was trying out for captain of his school’s basketball team in a few months. But no, he was nervous to see his friends.

It’d been so long, too long, since he’d seen them. Especially Mercer, whom he had always been closest to. Not to mention that Abram was probably still in Arclan. He hadn’t seen any of his friends since they had visited Abram just five months ago, just a month after everything had gone crazy with Sumner.

Brushing his thoughts aside, Bridge decided to get some early drafts for the literary magazine in the computer lab done. But as he headed down the school’s main hallway, he saw a familiar face heading into the school.

It was Mercer.

Bridge’s first instinct was to run and throw his arms around his best friend, to end their months of silence. But Mercer took one look at him and went down the opposite hall.

Mercer! Bridge called after him, but the taller boy kept hustling away from him like he had acquired the plague in a gristly manner.

He started running after Mercer then, grabbing him by the shoulder and spinning him around to face him. Despite the situation, Bridge smiled. Mercer had always been cute, but with his new tan, Bridge had to admit he was probably the hottest guy at Westbrooke, with his styled brown hair and ocean blue eyes that spoke of warm summers, and that definitely didn’t hurt his case at all.

Bridge, Mercer began.

Where have you been? I haven’t heard from anyone since...Arclan. Bridge paused to gauge Mercer’s reaction, which was plain and unnerved. I called, texted. What happened?

Mercer sighed nervously before looking into Bridge’s chestnut eyes. I just got back into town. he explained. I’ve been in Louisiana.

Bridge’s brow furrowed curiously. Louisiana?

He nodded. Visiting family with my dads.

But why?

To get away from everything. he sighed again. They’ve been really worried about me since that night.

We’re best friends, Merce. It’s been really tough these past couple of months. Bridge stopped himself before he blurted out something he wasn’t quite ready to discuss.

It’s been hard for all of us, Bridge. Listen, my dads are freaking out on me about everything that happened six months ago, and that trip to visit Abe didn’t help. They don’t want me to get into any trouble this year.

What happened with Sumner wasn’t your fault. It’s not like we can’t be friends or something stupid like that. Bridge watched as a cloudy expression settled over Mercer’s features. Before he could open his mouth again to explain, Bridge realized what was going on. "Are you kidding me?"

Bridge, I’m sorry. To his credit, Mercer did look really upset, but Bridge just shook his head. I don’t think we should hang out anytime soon.

Not letting him give a rebuttal, Mercer turned on his heels and disappeared out of Bridge’s view. He scoffed to himself. If it had just been the fact that Mercer was stuck in Louisiana with no service for his reasoning as to why he hadn’t spoken to him, Bridge would have understood. But the fact that he was avoiding him because he thought he would cause trouble? Unacceptable.

A storm of fear overcame Bridge. Had Mercer told his dads about what really happened that night? About what he had done? They had made a pact to never tell anyone, but could his dads’ constant worry have pulled the information out of him?

No, that was crazy. Mercer wouldn’t betray him, any of them. They’d take their secret to their graves.

Bridge didn’t have time to think about it too long because students started to enter the school by the swarms. And when he saw Willa St. James, he immediately beamed. He’d always been friends with Willa through Abram but ever since the rest of his friends had seemingly pushed him away, he’d never been closer to her.

Hey! she exclaimed, running up to him and hugging him tightly.

You look amazing! Bridge said, regarding her lavender Chi Chi London lace dress with matching wedge shoes.

Willa laughed and gestured toward his blue and yellow plaid button up and his dark green Levi’s, topped off with a dark gray hat that he wore backwards. Not looking too bad yourself.

I feel like I haven’t seen you in a month. he admitted.

Yeah, I’m sorry I’ve been so MIA. I’ve just been dealing with stuff with Abram.

He smiled weakly. How is Abram?

A wicked grin curved Willa’s lips upward. Ask him yourself.

Eyes widening, Bridge turned to see a smiling, clean shaven Abram, obviously waiting for Willa’s set up to make his appearance. Bridge laughed as he enveloped Abram in a huge embrace, much like he had wanted to give Mercer earlier. He shook himself mentally as he felt tears licking the edges of his eyes. He’d missed Abram so much. Six months was too long to go without any of his friends.

Coming out of the hug, Bridge realized that Abram was having the exact same problem with keeping his emotions in their respective stables.

I’ve missed you so much. Abram said, clearing his throat.

I’ve missed you too, Abe.

I’ve been trying to reach you guys.

When did you get back?

Almost a month ago. He smiled, an undertone of bashfulness laying beneath it. Just been trying to adjust.

Throwing up his hands, Bridge laughed. I wish I’d known. He then noted just how amazing Abram was looking. You’ve bulked up too.

Nodding, Abram laughed. Yeah, I have. But we can catch up later, Abram grinned before his expression grew more curious, a tumbling of thought redirecting his focus. Have you heard from Lissa?

Bridge shook his head as Willa jumped back into the conversation, the former noticing that people were beginning to whisper and cut eyes in their direction.

None of us have, Willa explained. It’s really weird. It’s like she’s fallen off the grid.

Abram just affirmed his sister’s accusation, but Bridge could see the concern in his eyes. After all, before that night, Lissa and Abram had been together and so obviously in love. And they hadn’t spoken in almost six months? Bridge couldn’t imagine what Abram was going through with being back to civilized life in Armor Falls.

Suddenly, Willa’s eyes grew wide as she spotted someone behind Bridge. She turned to her brother in frantic movements. Abe, I was supposed to tell you something on the way here but I completely spaced.

Bridge turned to see what the fuss was about when he felt a blackout approaching his senses. A guy waved at Willa as he raced toward them. Then the stranger’s eyes fell on Bridge and they grew the size of cantaloupes.

He recognized the guy from last night.

Ben?

The handsome Armenian, with lines of concern aging him more than he actually was, stopped just in front of them, his brown eyes expanding as he realized that Bridge wasn’t a mirage and really was standing right in front of him.

Bridge, what are you doing here? Student teaching or something?

Um, he’s here for senior year? Willa laughed lightly.

His confusion furthered. I’m sorry, what?

Can we get back to what I’m supposed to know? Abram interjected, looking from his sister to Ben.

Ben looked away from Bridge and moved between the siblings, sticking out his hand for Abram to shake. Sorry. I’m Ben Magnus.

Abram laughed, shaking his hand swiftly. And I care…why?

Willa adopted her nerves and stirred cautiously next to them. Mom and Dad wanted someone to look out for you and transition you back to everything.

My dad recently started working with yours, Ben explained. I’m a psych major at Heartmyth University, a senior, and they just wanted someone for you to go to if you’re ever feeling...off.

Bridge watched as Abram scoffed in annoyance. So much for giving me control over my own life.

I’m just going to be here when you need me. Kind of like an advisor. Your sidekick. And I’ll drive you wherever you want to go. Ben smiled.

Wait, you can’t drive?

Everyone turned to see Bridge looking terribly uncomfortable and perplexed.

Yeah. Because I can’t be trusted, right? Abram yelled, storming away from everyone and adding to the stares they were already collecting as people continued to pass by.

Flustered, Willa went running after her brother, leaving Bridge and Ben alone together.

What the hell, Bridge? Ben closed the space between them, keeping his voice low as more and more students piled into Westbrooke High. You told me you were a freshman at Heartmyth last night!

Bridge sighed. Ben, I’m sorry but—

Are you even eighteen?

Technically? Bridge winced sarcastically.

Bridge!

Chill out, Ben. I turn eighteen in two months. What we did—

Was illegal!

Bridge reached out to touch Ben’s arm, but he recoiled like Bridge was a leper, reminding him once again of his brief encounter with Mercer.

When we met at that party last night, Ben began. The only reason we hooked up was because I thought you were in college, not high school.

Ben, Bridge grabbed his hand, but once again he acted like his touch would incinerate him from the inside out.

Enough. What happened last night was a one-time thing. I’m not gay.

Bridge couldn’t help but laugh despite the weird occurrence. Well you might not be, but your ass sure was last night.

Ben coughed at his abrasiveness, looking around to make sure no one was listening to their conversation.

What’s the big deal? We had fun last night. No need to label anything. Bridge nodded.

It’s more complicated than that.

He didn’t know what the issue was. Maybe Bridge had fudged a few of the details during the back to school party at Heartmyth last night, but they had both been pretty drunk and Ben had an amazing ass and...one thing had led to another. It’s not like they were hurting anyone.

A titter sounded from behind them. A beautiful blonde spun Ben around and hugged him invitingly. Bridge’s eyebrows raised inquisitively as the woman turned to meet Bridge’s, smiling.

Oh, sorry, she laughed. You must be the student Ben is advising. Abram, right?

Uh, no. I’m his friend, Bridge. he smiled nervously. And you are?

The woman laughed. I’m Paige Honeycombe, the new guidance counselor.

Oh. Nice to meet you. How do you know Ben?

Ben shifted awkwardly as he opened his mouth to speak but Paige silenced him by holding up her hand, Bridge’s eyes brightening at the ring on her finger.

We’re engaged.

As Ben chuckled oddly, Paige beamed exuberantly, and Bridge stood there speechless as he stared at the man he had just slept with and the woman he was lying to about it.

2

Drop Dead

Abram made his way deeper into the heart of Westbrooke High, every step making him all the more angry. His parents had gone on and on about trusting him and then they went and gave him a glorified babysitter? He was so angry he was ready to annihilate some lockers. How could they say that they trusted him when they had sent Ben to observe his every move? He hadn’t felt so betrayed since Sumner had turned his life upside down.

His sister caught up with him finally, and he was facing her before he even realized it.

Abe, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.

I’m not mad at you, Willa. Mom and Dad gave that speech about giving me back control over my life and they gave me a stalker!

"Look, I know they didn’t tell you everything but they’re just looking out for you. Having Ben around isn’t ideal, but they’re just making sure that what happened with Sumner never ever happens again."

Abram took in a chaste breath. He hadn’t realized how hard this had hit his family until he had returned home. What happened with Sumner was tragic, and obviously, Abram had felt the brute of his reign six months ago.

Steeling himself, Abram looked into his sister’s eyes. I guess I can be nice to the guy, for my family.

Willa gave him a quick hug. It’s just for a little while. Plus, he’s a pretty nice guy. He seems to know Bridge.

Yeah, what the hell was that about? he laughed. Speaking of, you and Bridge seem close.

He’s been going through a rough time lately. Just when Abram went to ask about it, Willa shook her head. It’s not my place. You’ll have to talk to him about it.

We have to get to class anyway. Let’s get this day over with. he laughed.

She looped her arm with her brother’s, mimicking his laughter. You still have to tell me what it was like being in a crazy house. When he laughed even more, she smacked him spiritedly. I’m serious! You’ve never told me.

But Abram just cackled again as he walked down the hall he used to own, his sister by his side as he tried to ignore the abundance of stares and whispers that came from every direction.

---

Mercer walked into his first period class and quickly took a seat in the back of the room as a few kids whispered in his direction, causing him to roll his eyes. Last year, he and his friends had been the envy of Westbrooke. Nobody ever gave them shit or gossiped about them, at least not to their faces, like they were now.

He glanced to his right, where the last seat sat next to the window, looking over the sedimentary object with delayed perspective. It’s where Sumner would have sat when the five of them had a class together, always needing the escape to look out into the world beyond the confines of the classroom. Mercer cursed himself as more kids piled into the room. He hated himself every time he missed Sumner, or at least the friend he used to be to him.

Remembering the first time he had met Sumner, Mercer found himself back in freshman year of Westbrooke. It was the first day back from winter break, and Mercer and his friends were meeting up in the cafe for breakfast, like every other morning. He was just going to stop by his locker before he met them. He remembered sifting through his locker when a stranger had approached the locker to his right, next to a huge window. The guy had molasses dark hair and wore clothes straight out of a GQ photoshoot. Mercer was sure Bridge would be all over the new guy, causing him to smirk. Mercer walked over to the new guy, slamming his locker shut after grabbing his biology book.

Welcome to Westbrooke, Mercer grinned, watching the stranger jump slightly at the intrusion, causing Mercer to put his hands up, laughing. Sorry, man. Just wanted to say hello. he put his hands down. You wanna join me and my friends at lunch?

The kid shut his locker, biology book in his hand too, and gave Mercer a sarcastic smile.

Drop dead.

The guy walked away defiantly, leaving Mercer to wonder what he had done to piss the guy off.

The second bell brought Mercer back to the present. His history teacher, the overly effervescent Mrs. Mortimer, told everyone to take their seats as a leggy blonde sauntered into the classroom. Mercer’s gaze stuck to her as she began talking quietly to Mrs. Mortimer. He’d never seen her before. Her blonde hair was styled upwards in a pixie cut. She wore earrings with tiny polaroid cameras dangling from them, among her other ear piercings. Her vibrant green eyes shone as she smiled at Mrs. Mortimer. She wore a black leather jacket over a plain white t-shirt and skinny denim jeans with imitation suede wedge heels that accentuated her legs. Not that Mercer was staring or anything.

Class, came Mrs. Mortimer’s bubbly tone. We have a new senior joining us this year. This is Kirby Wheaton.

Kirby regarded the class in a very sarcastic way. I look forward to ignoring each and every one of you.

Several kids laughed as Kirby smiled at the crowd. Mercer couldn’t help but smile himself.

You can find a seat, darling.

Kirby nodded, surveying the room until her eyes landed on the seat next to Mercer, the one right by the window. Mercer steeled himself as she sat down next to him, setting her things down on her desk and leaving her purse by her feet.

Starting your senior year at a new school. That must suck. Mercer blurted out in a hushed voice. She gave him a grin, further blushing his cheeks.

It’s cool. I’m totally adaptable. She leaned in closer to him. Plus, if I was still in Maine or Manhattan, I never would have met you. she winked.

Mercer laughed, thoroughly enjoying her playful confidence. You traded Manhattan for Armor Falls? Trust me, New Hampshire doesn’t even compare to New York City.

I’m actually from around here, sort of. She paused. I’m originally from Salem, New Hampshire. My mom decided to move back to our home state.

Nodding, he extended his hand out to her. I’m Mercer.

Kirby giggled lightly as she shook his hand. Nice to meet you.

The class went by lazily after that, Mercer helping Kirby when she had a question about the whereabouts of the school as Mrs. Mortimer went about summarizing what their year was going to look like. It was nice to have a conversation with someone who didn’t know who he was or what had happened to him six months ago.

Five minutes before the bell was set to ring, Mercer decided to spark conversation with Kirby that didn’t have to deal with school.

So, are you into photography?

She laughed, nodding. How’d you guess?

The earrings, he smiled, gesturing towards the tiny dangling cameras. Just an assumption.

Yeah, Kirby confirmed, her fingers gracing her earrings absentmindedly. I have a more modern camera, but my favorite is my restored Polaroid. I don’t use it all the time, but it’s a classic.

She reached down and rummaged through her purse and pulled out several polaroids with one single date written on all of them. I took these last night at the cemetery.

Looking at some of the photos, Mercer raised an eyebrow. Armor Falls Cemetery?

Surprisingly good lights on the grounds, Kirby confirmed. I know it’s weird, but we just moved into that house just around the corner from it, the one through the woods? Anyway, I’ve always enjoyed the quiet, dark beauty of the place where the living come to remember the dead. Seeing his reaction, Kirby began to gather up her pictures. But it’s not for everybody.

No, no, I think it’s cool. Mercer insisted. Just have some not so great memories there.

Oh, I’m so sorry. she said, clearly thinking the worst.

It’s not like that. It’s just...complicated. he laughed awkwardly.

The bell vibrated loudly around them, dismissing the rest of the class as students raced to be the first out of the door.

Maybe if I haven’t fled the premises, maybe I’ll see you at lunch? Kirby said as she stood up with her belongings.

Uh, yeah, Mercer said hesitantly, a watted grin brightening his face. He hadn’t even thought about what he was doing about lunch since he wasn’t speaking to his friends. Yeah, that’d be great.

Kirby started to leave as Mercer gathered up his things when something caught his eye. He glanced over at Kirby’s desk to see that she had forgotten one of her polaroids. He looked up to call her, but she was already gone.

Sighing, Mercer intended to just slip the photograph into his pocket and find Kirby later to return it, but the curiosity got the better of him. He reached for the polaroid and flipped it over, seeing that she had titled the picture Cemetery Boy 8/30 as he took in the scene the picture displayed. That’s when Mercer screamed and almost dropped the photo. Because in the polaroid was Sumner.

3

Introductions

Coming out of his first class, Abram felt strange. Mainly because he was basically a celebrity at Westbrooke for all the wrong reasons. Almost every time someone looked at him, whispers of He’s one of them and Sumner’s victims were buzzing around him. He couldn’t imagine what they’d be saying if he told everyone about his stays in mental institutions. They’d run with that kind of material forever.

But he also felt strange because he felt so lost without his friends. They’d been his support system for so long that it felt completely foreign to him to navigate through life without their we’ve-got-your-back smiles beaming back at him. Sure, he’d spoken to Bridge, but the one person he yearned to speak to was Lissa. She was one of the only things that had kept him sane while he was away. And he hadn’t gotten so much as a phone call from her. She was the first girl Abram had ever fallen in love with. He didn’t even know if they were still dating or not.

As he made his way to his second period class, he spotted her over by the huge window in the hallway corridor. He tried to stop himself from running to her, but he couldn’t help it.

Lissa. Abram breathed easily as he called out to her, watching her turn around to face him. Only, it wasn’t Lissa.

Abram?

He grinned slyly as she pulled him into a quick hug.

Faith, how’s it going?

She smiled up at him. I’m fine. What about you? When did you get back?

Not long ago. I’m glad I ran into you. Actually, I thought you were Lissa.

Oh, I see. she said uncomfortably.

Where is your sister? I haven’t heard from her since I got back.

Um, Faith stirred nervously in place as she searched his face for a change of conversation before realizing that he needed an answer from her. Abe, it’s a long story.

Fear pulsed against his veins. Is she okay? Is she sick?

No, nothing like that.

Faith opened her mouth to set everything straight when a man loomed toward them. Abram looked over to see a ruggedly handsome man making quick strides to close the space between him and Faith. A light came over her face as she laughed.

What are you doing here?

Surprise! he bellowed, beckoning her for a hug, which she quickly obliged.

Abram coughed uncomfortably as Faith realized that he was still standing there with them and hadn’t run off to class.

Oh, sorry. She turned toward the stranger. This is Abram, my...friend.

The dark haired man locked eyes with Abram and smiled wide. Straton Jacobs, nice to meet you.

They shook hands briefly, perplexed features still displayed on Abram’s face. And who are you exactly?

I’m really bad at this, aren’t I? Faith giggled as her phone lit up, ignoring the text as she dropped it in the back pocket of her jeans. Straton’s my boyfriend. Faith’s grin widened at the mention and grasped Straton’s hand What brings you here?

I figured I’d see how the first day was going on my way to class. Straton lifted their conjoined hands and placed a light kiss on Faith’s, making it hard for Abram not to roll his eyes.

Do you go to Armor Falls University? he finally asked.

Straton shook his head. I’m a sophomore at Heartmyth.

Faith, you were supposed to meet me outside the office.

Abram heard the male voice before he saw who it belonged to. But once he did, he had to do a double take to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. The guy looked so different, his short brown hair and flat chest included, but so many things remained the same. The hazel eyes that Faith also bore. The half halo of freckles along his neck. His pouty lips. He spotted Abram and froze. Abram watched as terror glazed over his familiar features.

Lissa?

---

Finally tracking her down, Mercer made his way over to Kirby as she rummaged through her locker. She spotted him as she looked away from the storage space, smiling despite the pinched look he wore as he approached her.

Mercer, hey. Kirby said, watching as he slammed something against the locker next to hers, startling her to the point of jumping.

When did you take this? Mercer demanded, tossing the picture toward her.

Kirby thanked her reflexes silently as she caught it, realizing that it was one of her polaroids. She looked back up at the obviously angry Mercer, confusion leaking out of her pores.

I told you, I took these last night.

Mercer huffed, shaking his head with newfound vigor. That’s impossible. He pointed at the photo. Do you have any idea who that is?

Kirby examined the polaroid once more before tapping the caption she had written. I don’t know, but as you can see, I call him Cemetery Boy. After seeing Mercer’s flustered expression, she went on. Look, Mercer, I swear to you, I took that last night. I saw him in the cemetery and I guess he saw me and tried running when I snapped the picture. She moved closer to him. Who is he?

He sighed. He didn’t want to drag Kirby into the mess of his life, especially with her being new to town, but she at least needed to know who her ‘Cemetery Boy’ was.

His name is Sumner Shadows, Mercer started. Six months ago, he tried to kill me and my friends.

Mercer, my God. Kirby gasped, obviously horrified. You said you had bad memories at the cemetery. She let her sentence fade into the air between them as Mercer’s facade darkened.

That’s where he attacked us, he nodded. Afterwards, he skipped town. No one has seen him since. Mercer sighed. I’m sorry I was so livid. It’s just hard to believe that he’s assumingly back in town.

She collected the things she needed from her locker and closed it quickly, inching closer to him as to avoid eavesdroppers. Mercer, we have to take this picture to the police.

No, he commanded, grabbing the polaroid from her hand.