Flight

They sat on a red, tartan blanket. Lola was to Stephanie's left and Bee to her right. It was 8:30, early evening, and the stars were brighter than they ever were in the town. They loomed above them, warping into shapes of poems and lost loves.

They were in a corn field- per Bee's request- and were miles from any sign of civilisation.

Bee said this was a perfect place to hang out.

Bee did drive them there, so it was her choice; She had "borrowed" her parents beat up pick up truck, and the group had endured a slightly awkward, silent ride here.

Bee's bottle of vodka rested on her thigh, three quarters left. The clear liquid sloshed and gave off a revolting smell, although the bottle was reflecting moon beams onto female faces, shadows of sin.

Lola's hand was fiddling with her snowy skater skirt, nudging Steph's leg ever so slightly. She did this when she was nervous.

You see, Bee was their new friend. She had recently moved to Missouri from Illinois, and she just kind of... joined Steph and Lola.

She scared Lola slightly, as she was unpredictable and acted extremely erratically. Stephanie personally didn't trust her, But Lola seemed to. A little, anyway. It was probably due to Lola loving the feeling of being so protected.

Steph was weary though. Bee barley ever spoke about her past. Her last name unknown but her long name: Beatrix. She had recently noted that if anyone called her that then they'd regret it.

All of them together looked like a combination of high school cliches. Bee was a rebel, Lola was extremely innocent and Stephanie was a nerdy geek. She loved maths. Although, she never understood the excitement some got at english. Numbers were just so... easy. They calmed her down.

Steph was slouched there, listening to another of Bee's (assumably) made up stories, wind caressing her free hair, tickling her full cheeks; when she felt the urge to use the toilet. She stood up, declaring:

"i need to pee, i'll be right back"

She hauled herself up, pushing her hands on the floor and getting dizzy headed thanks to the change of position.

There was a bush not a while away, but she'd have to walk all the way across the field to get to it. She didn't mind, she valued privacy over effort. If it was just Lola she wouldn't care, but she had no idea what Bee could do.

Steph half smiled at her friends as Bee nodded an okay.

Something happened then. A glint in her eyes. A realisation of opportunity. A scary change of mood. Whispers of distrust. She left nervously- she was guilty about leaving Lola alone with Bee. It tugged on her heart like it was attached to the anchor of a ship.

"Hurry, Steph"

Lola pleased shakily. A fake smile staining her lips- like liquid iodine.

Stephanie left then. Snowshoeing her way through the corn that tickled and itched at her exposed legs. She was a few quarters of the way when she realised that she forgot her cellphone. It was huge blocky thing, a Nokia, but she was too scared to go into a field, on her own, without the opportunity to call 911. So, she decided to walk all the back to get it. She turned towards her previous post, but

(blood there's blood on her how did this happen blood Lola Bee stop no what how to trick of the light?)

a shock flooded her body as she jolted to a stop; an disbelieving scary feeling freezing her brain.

Lola was no longer sitting upright in her white number, but was lying on the floor. Unconscious. Blood seeming out of her chest and colouring her clothes. She looked like Carrie after being crowned prom queen. That wasn't the scariest part, oh no, the scariest part was Bee. Stabbing and penetrating Lola's body repeatedly, A long kitchen knife gripped between her hands. Crimson splattered her face, tongue licking at the residue around her mouth.

A bruise was forming in the centre of Lola's forehead, which explained why it was so quiet.

Even from where she was, Stephanie could hear the full thud and splash of Lola's demise. Steph tried to scream but her throat denied it. She was paralysed. The air whistled in and out of her dry throat like hot glass, choking her. Suffocating her.

Stephanie had stood there for a solid 45 seconds, but it had felt like years. Lola's body lay there, redder than Heather Chandler.

As quickly as it happened, it was over, and Steph watched helplessly as Bee turned to face her.

A twisted grin started enveloping Bee's bloody mask of a face. She had found joy in her actions. She was bloodthirsty, a vampire that discarded it's food.

The toothy smile disappeared as Bee started to advance towards her, knife gripped in her fist; knuckles turning white. Bee was gaining speed, and only now

(she's going to kill me i know it i'm going to die bloody murder bloody Lola self defence)

was Stephanie realising she had to run. She turned around and observed the area they were in, calculating the best escape route. They were quite literally in the middle of nowhere, and with Bee now only a few meters behind her, Steph concluded that her best bet was hiding in the old barn about a mile away. After taking a loud, deep breath, she started to run.

Her feet slammed into the ground, desperate vibrations running up and down her body. Adrenaline drenched her like a bath, sinking into her skin, her veins, her mind. Every time her heart thudded, she felt a tingle in her fingertips- like pinpricks from a sewing wheel. The sky and field blurred together, undistinguishable from each other. The smell of soft wood mixed with metallic blood was still stuffed in her noise. She could hear Bee roaring behind her, shouting profanities and threats into thin air. She was getting further away. Stephs legs were lanky and flailing- she was not made for running. Her arms pumping into nothing, pushing her body harder than she ever had. Stitches were bleeding in her lungs.

But she was not stopping. Images of Lola flashed like strobe lights, bloody, beaten, broken and more than anything...

Red.

After a good 6 minutes of running at full speed, she got to the empty barn. Bee was far behind now, she was not even in Stephanie's line of vision.

The barn was large- it had a wooden porch out the front, and animal pens inside.

On the porch was a rocking chair, which was decayed and green in places. The wood was a cool tan colour, criss-cross railings made of oak lines the perimeter.

She had to hurry. Bee was near

Steph scoured the house for a possible hiding spot.

Going inside was too obvious. Behind the house was too open. Behind the door was childish. Then she saw it. A gap under the porch. crawl space. She shook her head in stunted disbelief, but jogged over to it anyway. She knelt down and put her feet into the gap, holding onto the porch to pull the rest of her body down. She watched tee trees disappear from her eyeline as she sank deeper, deeper, deeper into the dark, dark, dark.

It was cold down there. Dirty too. Cobwebs lined every corner, bugs and mice scurried around under the dusty floor- squeaking or squishing whenever you placed your knee on top of one. This was better than out there, Stephanie thought.

So it started. The wait. The time, tick tick ticking away as she heard silence from outside. Her heart thudded every time a bird sang, every time a twig snapped. Every time the wind ruffled the corn. Blood rushed past her ears, sounding like running water. She was shaking, shaking like a leaf, like a tree, like a crop in a wheat field.

She didn't have a watch on. She didn't know how long she was sat there, deep in a crawl space, watching through a distant tear in the wood, staring at the same scenery, waiting, watching. Her eyes were so wet from crying that she didn't need to blink. She didn't want to. The tears tasted salty, but it reminded her of the blood. The crimson water fountain of youth spilt from an innocent girl. A girl who deserved better. A girl who was brutally stabbed and hacked to death in a field. Her best friend. The image was something that could never leave her mind.

Stephanie woke up to a light burning into her eye. It was morning? She must've fallen asleep dreaming of the plateau. A yawn escaped her lips. She figured she was safe now. No one killed her in her sleep. She was fine. Alive. Okay.

Steph crawled towards the hole, hands gripping onto the ground and heaving herself out, breathing heavily in relief and exhaustion. But then, oh then, she hauled her body over to face the sky, and instead? She saw

(she's here to kill me to take me bloody red i'm stuck oh no i'm trapped she's taking me)

Bee's looming face was glaring into her eyes, a flipped image. Bee was laying on the decking next to the hole, her head hanging off directly above it. Her teeth were a cloudy white, pointy and sharp.

Steph was paralysed.

She could not move. Only blink and try to slow her breathing.

Without moving, Bee lugged Lola's body next to her, in the exact position she was in. The two heads lay atop Stephanie, one flexed and one limp, blood from Lola's carcass dipping and dripping straight onto Stephs forehead. It warm, and it smelt

(i can't beleive this is happening i don't want this dream? can it be dream no hot blood warm blood rancid bloo-)

revolting.

"See Steph? Now we can all be friends. Properly. Just us three. All i need you to do is sleep for me. Sleep for me Stephanie" Bee growled, growing in intensity with every word. Drool and spitter landed on Stephs cheeks, mixing with the crimson liquid to create a potion of horror and hate. At this moment Steph felt some sense swim into her head. She attempted to jerk downwards, back into the crawlspace, but found her hair sharply grabbed and yanked by Bee's red hands. Steph let out a yelp of pain. Bee wasn't blinking. Blood was running into her eyes.

She looked like the devil.

Steph found her head being beaten and rammed into the floor behind her, thudding and aching like rotten teeth. She felt herself slipping, slipping, splitting, slipping away. Warmth spread from the back of her head around to her eyes, putting her under, dragging her down, down, down into the peaceful calm of black, black except from the tattoo of Bee's bloodshot eyes glaring at her, unblinking.

Bee was found the next morning. Two dead girls sat next to her on the floor, while she sat on a rocking chair. The police concluded that she had cut open the bodies and carved out their hearts, holding one in each hand, and fallen into a coma. They didn't know how. Coma's dong happen to healthy people. But i suppose people of good health don't murder, do they?

The stains of blood never leave you.

Not really.

They just stay

red

red

r

e

d