Prologue: Waves

I had to admit that I was looking forward to this. I was nervous, yes, but I was really looking forward to it. I even hoped I'd get to do Melanie and Stephanie. Maybe I'm just sick, but this was going to be fun.

 

The Sigma Sigma Gamma sorority house has a small parlor halfway down the hallway from the front door, where once only women were allowed. It has one door, and two windows with thick, yellow curtains on the wall opposite the door. I was in the parlor. The curtains were drawn. No one outside could see in. We were far enough away from Sorority Row that no one outside could hear either.

​

If you had walked in the door to the parlor, you would have seen lightly-padded chairs in two of the corners. You would have seen an orchid in a vase on a small table between the windows. You would have seen a fireplace to the left. You would have seen an attractive but uncomfortable couch facing the fireplace, halfway into the room. You would have seen that the lights were out, except for the fire in the fireplace.

I sat on the couch, looking at the fireplace, my hands by my sides. Jim walked in with Lacey on his arm. I wasn't expecting Lacey, but that was all right. Tina would be here in a few minutes; I was sure of it. Good old Tina.

 

Jim was a fit young man, a Kappa Gamma Sigma guy. He kept his dark hair in a crew cut. He drove a Mustang. Things went Jim's way. All the time.

 

Not this time. Things were going to go very badly for Jim. Very badly indeed.

 

Jim acted as if he didn't see me. Maybe he really didn't see me. Still, Lacey saw me. Lacey, a woman with the long, curly, blonde hair, who had been with Jim for a few weeks now. Lacey, of the clear green eyes, wore a white poet blouse and a blue pair of those shorts which looked like a skirt. Black flats. White socks.

 

Lacey saw me. She pointed to herself, barely a flick of the wrist. She mouthed, "Me, too." She smiled, just a bit. Jim didn't see.

 

Even better. This certainly was going to be fun.

 

"Jim, baby," she said. "Can you get rid of the pest?" She pointed at me. "I want you all to myself."

 

Jim turned to me. "Hey!" he said, taking a step. "You! You heard the lady." He didn't know my name. Good. He'd know it in a minute.

 

Another step toward me. "Beat it!" said Jim, in the company CEO voice he learned from his dad.

 

My heart was pounding. The fun starts. God, let Tina be nearby. Good old Tina.

 

I stared off in the distance, through the fire. "Waves," I said quietly. "They ripple, you know."

 

"What?" said Jim.

 

Lacey smiled. Just barely. She wouldn't be doing much more of that, if things worked out as I thought they would.

 

"WAVES!" I shouted. Not moving an inch, not turning my stare. "WAAAAAAAAAVES!" Even louder. Even less movement.

 

"All right, pal," he said. Oh, good. I'm his pal. "What are you on? Need me to call a doc-"

 

I turned my stare at him. I had practiced the look for a very long time in the mirror on my closet door. I had worked out the place of every facial muscle, the angle of my head, the setting of my eyes. It was perfect. Jim couldn't finish his sentence. (Point one for our side.)

 

Just then, Tina walked in. She was wearing a sleeveless white mock-turtle sweater and a knee length plaid wrap-around skirt. The skirt was held in place by a button at her hip on the side. She was barefoot and bare-legged. Maybe she was watching TV and heard the shouting. Tina had soft, tanned skin which I could already feel under my fingers, even though I hadn't touched her yet. She had shoulder length, straight brown hair which I could see scattered about her on the floor, even though I hadn't touched her yet. She had brown eyes, but they wouldn't be open for long. She had a bruise on her shoulder which was what started the waves. (Well, truth be told, Jim really started the waves.)

​

The blood pounded in my chest as I played out the next few minutes in my mind. Tina first, then Kim, then (I guess) Lacey, then Melanie (only if necessary), then Stephanie (if all else failed). Then we get to Jim.

​

Yes, Jim, you're coming up.

 

I didn't take my eyes off Jim. I held my practiced stare without so much as a twitch.

 

"What's going on?" said Tina. She was talking to Jim.

 

Jim broke eye contact with me. (Point two to the home team.) "This guy needs help!" he said, then stepped away as Tina approached. Good old Jim, always ready to delegate. Good old Tina with the bruise on her shoulder.

 

"Are you OK, Tommy?" she said, the kindest of expressions on her face. She knew my name. It almost broke your heart. She walked closer, bent her face right next to mine. Nothing but the deepest compassion on that face. Nothing but care for someone in trouble. "Tommy?" she said.

 

Jim hadn't noticed the knife, though I think Lacey did. In one moment, it was in my hand, lying next to me on the couch. In the next, it was plunged into Tina's breast, as her face turned from compassion to pain and fear. I felt the soft wool of her sweater for a moment, and then the sticky blood oozing out. Both of her hands went to her chest.

 

I pulled the blade from Tina's chest. I stood up. I spun Tina around so my stomach was pressed against her back. Her face and mine looked at Lacey and Jim. I felt her legs weaken and her weight begin to fall on me, her attacker.

 

I grabbed her face with one hand, just under the chin. I felt that straight brown hair on my cheek. I felt that smooth skin in my palm, my fingers. Jim's face was a mask of shock. Lacey screamed.

 

"Waves", I whispered, when Lacey's scream was done and she was sucking in air. "Waves."

 

I pulled the knife blade against Tina's lovely throat and blood oozed onto her sweater again. She screamed, then gurgled. Her eyes rolled back, then closed. Her head lolled back against my shoulder, then her limp body slid down my firm one as she melted onto the floor, where she lay on her side in a small pool of blood.

Jim turned to run for the door, but Lacey grabbed his arm. She needn't have bothered. There was Kim. Short black hair, sleeveless T-shirt and jeans, sandals.

​

I shouted "WAVES!" again. Jim turned to look at me, but only saw the arc of my arm. He then heard a loud thump and a sigh from Kim. He turned to see her hand on her shin, blood squirting out in short little jets. The knife was planted in the wall by the door.

 

Kim limped over to the now frantic Jim, who was clawing at Lacey's hand, eyes wild. (Point three. Things are going badly for old Jimbo.) I walked over toward the door. Taking measured steps. This really was as much fun as I thought it would be.

​

"Help me, Jim!" Kim screamed in his face as blood spurted onto the sides of Jim's nice pressed slacks. "Please! Help me!"

 

I retrieved the knife from the wall and Lacey screamed again. She screams well, I thought. I hoped she would do a little when it was her turn.

 

It took me a moment to cross the distance to Kim, Jim, and Lacey. Kim pleading. Lacey screaming. Jim looking like he was somehow missing the point.

 

I plunged the knife into Kim's back. Once. (SCREAM) Twice. (Scream) Three times. (scream...) I pulled the knife back into my hand and Kim threw her arms around to her back, as if she had a bad itch. A breathy sigh escaped. She fell backward hard onto the wood floor. She twitched there for a moment and then lay still, her arms and legs spread eagle, her head turned to the door and tilted back.

 

Jim stood there with his mouth open. I slid the knife inside my belt. I lifted Kim from beneath her shoulders and dragged her back to Tina's body. Kim's head lolled back and her body swayed with every step. A stripe of red traced across the floor. I was sure Jim could see that I was enjoying this, but that kind of added to the atmosphere.

 

Melanie came in the door. Melanie was a large woman, with a pretty, baby face. She was wearing jeans and a men's shirt rolled up at the sleeves. Blue sneakers and white socks. She had deep brown hair which she tied in a ponytail. Her eyes were brown. I really liked Melanie, and I wasn't going to put her through this if I didn't have to.

 

Melanie stood in the doorway, her arms apart, filling a good part of the only exit. "What..." she started, then her eyes grew wide and her mouth fell open. She stood there as if hypnotized, her gaze unfocussed, her features slack.

 

I lowered Kim to the ground and then kicked Tina onto her stomach. I grabbed the bottom of her sweater and started to pull it up. It wouldn't come off all the way. I didn't really want it to. Tina lay limp, her arms out, her knees bent. I wanted to see Tina's back; I wanted Melanie and Lacey (especially Lacey) to see Tina's bruised back. Jim had seen Tina's back. I then tore off the button holding Tina's skirt together and pulled it out from under her. Her legs slid down so that she lay spread-eagle on her stomach. I wanted to see the backs of her legs -- Melanie, too, and especially Lacey. Lacey gasped at the sight of the contusions.

I set down the skirt, and then lifted Kim again. I set her down so that she lay over Tina's back. I picked up the skirt.

​

I wrapped Tina's skirt around my hands, tightly, like a rope. Melanie must have thought she was next. She let out a scream. But Melanie wasn't next.

 

Lacey was next.

 

Jim reacted as I hoped he would. "Oh, I get it!" he said. "This is some kind of joke. This is some kind of joke." He laughed without meaning it. "Well, you got me. Pranks over."

 

I walked toward Lacey with my hands tight, holding the skirt. "Waves," I whispered.

 

"Yeah, waves!" Jim said, trying to sound casual. "Good one. Waves."

 

"I don't think it's a joke, Jim," Lacey said as she backed away from me, almost as if we had planned it.

 

"Of course it's a joke," said Jim, now almost to the point of convincing himself. "That's Tommy Walters. I recognize him now. He knows Tina from the theatre. I heard her talk about him! He's like a stage manager or something. It's not even real blood!" He knelt down near a puddle from Kim. "It's..."

 

He tasted it. It wasn't the sweet, sticky stage blood he knew about. It was salty and sticky. Jim retched. It was real blood.

​

Blood from a pig, but real blood.

​

"Waves," I whispered.

​

Lacey had backed up to the wall. Now, she decided to make a run for it. I snagged her around the neck with the twisted dress as she ran by. She screamed again, then the scream died in a choking cough. She struggled for the couch or the door, with me draped over her back.

 

"Help me, Jim!" she croaked.

 

Jim actually started to move this time, but it was hard to tell if it was toward me or toward the door. He might have actually done something if Melanie hadn't picked that moment to say, "Yeah, big Jim! Don't just stand there!"

 

He stopped and turned to Melanie. He couldn't help it. With Jim, attacks must be answered. "I will do something, if you'll shut your hole!"

 

By this time, Lacey and I had reached the end of the couch. I yanked harder on the dress-rope and Lacey made a little choking sound. Then she was silent. Limp. A moment later, I let her fall over the arm of the couch, her rear end stuck up in the air, her hose-clad legs parted slightly, her toes touching the floor.

Three down.

 

"Get out of the way, you pansy!" Melanie shouted at Jim from behind me. I heard her run past him, throwing him to the floor. Here it comes.

 

Melanie slammed her fist into my left side, the side away from the knife. I was steeled against the pain, but it still burnt through my eyes. I grabbed my side. Melanie grabbed the knife. Silly girl. You want it too.

I glanced over at Jim. Hope was beginning to dawn in his eyes. Silly boy. At least he no longer seemed to think it was a joke. It most certainly was not a joke.

 

Melanie held the knife in her right hand. She spread her legs and crouched: a fighting posture.

 

I turned to face her, but did not alter my posture. Nor did I alter my expression.

 

She feigned left. I didn't move. She feigned right. I didn't move. Then, she decided to attack, stepping forward and swinging the knife up just below my rib cage. It really didn't hurt that much when the knife went in. Blood began to soak my blue pullover.

 

I didn't move. I didn't flinch. Melanie's eyes widened in shock. In a blink, I grabbed her knife hand with my both my hands and slowly pulled the knife from my chest.

 

Melanie tried to back away. I stepped with her, my hands on her hand on the knife. Slowly, I turned the point of the knife so that it faced Melanie. She took another step back. She swung at me with her free hand. I tilted my head a tiny bit, and she missed.

 

"Please," she begged. "Please. Don't hurt me. Whoever you are, don't hurt me." I stepped toward her a bit, closing the gap. "Look, maybe we can work something out," she said, panic in her voice. No reaction from me. "I don't want to die. Please don't..."

 

She stumbled. Just a bit. Caught her sneaker on the hard wood. The knife slipped into her stomach. "Oh my G... Oh my G.." Melanie said, never quite getting the whole expression out of her mouth.

 

Blood ran down her shirt, then out her mouth. Her eyes fluttered up to the ceiling. She stood between me and the door. She grabbed the knife with both hands and jerked it from her, dropping it on the floor. Then something exploded and she fell backward, hitting the floor with a dull thud.

 

The explosion startled everyone there, even me. I hadn't been expecting a gun shot. My worries vanished when I looked up to see who was holding the gun.

 

It was Stephanie, in her flannel nightgown, her curly red hair messed up as if she'd been asleep. Her face began with hatred, but then turned to shock. Even Jim could see that she hadn't been aiming for Melanie.

She dropped the gun. (Well, it was more like she tossed it.) She stepped over to Melanie, and knelt beside her, her gown covering the knife where Melanie dropped it. She gently touched Melanie's still face and cried. No words. Just tears.

 

The gun was at my feet. I think old Jim had gotten the idea of making a dash for it, but I picked it up before he could get his plan together.

 

I could tell what kind of gun it was. Maybe Jim could have too if he'd come any closer. The handle of was wrapped in masking tape. On the masking tape, in blue ink, were the words "me + 3 more". Were there more coming to this party?

 

Stephanie looked up from Melanie. "Don't shoot," she whimpered, making it very clear what the new plan was. "Don't shoo..."

 

Bang.

 

Stephanie grabbed her chest as blood spurted out. She slowly floated down to lay on Melanie, almost as if she were taking a nap. She twitched twice. Then she was still.

 

Jim, probably hoping I had forgotten him, slinked off into the corner farthest from the couch (and Tina, Kim and Lacey) and the door (and Melanie and Stephanie). There was nowhere for him to hide.

​

"What's going on?" A man appeared in the door, a guy who I'd later find out was named Jacob.

 

Bang.

 

I shot pretty much without aiming. I didn't have to aim.

 

Jacob grabbed his eye as blood spurted between his fingers. He stumbled forward a step, tripped on Stephanie, and lay on the floor between the ladies and Jim. He shook violently for a moment, then lay still. I guessed that was number one.

 

I turned toward Jim's corner and took a step. Step. Jim blinked. Blinked. When he heard the screams, he quivered and covered his eyes.

 

The screamers were two women, one of whom I knew (her name was Jessica) and the other I didn't. Jessica was dressed in a towel, her dark hair wet as if she'd just stepped out of a shower. She stood in the door, her arms out a few inches from her sides, her fingers splayed. The other woman was wearing a lime green bath robe and bedroom slippers. She had thick, shoulder-length black hair. She stood next to Jessica with her hands on her chest.

 

Bang.

 

The stranger in green slumped to the floor, blood oozing from her chest onto her robe. She lay there on her back, her hip turned, her knees bent, her head at an odd angle, her eyes closed. Her leg covered Stephanie's foot.

 

Jessica's scream faded and she fainted. She fell face down onto Stephanie and Melanie, her dark wet hair plastered to her back, her towel parted a bit to show her left leg up to the thigh. One arm stretched out to touch Stephanie's hip, the other under her stomach.

 

Bang.

 

She convulsed, and the towel showed even more leg. Blood spread across the white terry. She gurgled a second, and then blood ran from her mouth and she was still.

 

I took a minute to survey my handiwork. Jacob over there by the cowering Jim. Melanie, Stephanie, Jessica and the other woman in a heap by the door. Lacey on the couch. Tina and Kim on the floor by the fire. Blood on my pullover. Yes, a fine bit of work.

 

Jim's jaw was working as if he were saying something, but his lungs refused to play along. I held the gun to my lips. "Sssh!" I said.

 

Jim's jaw stopped cold in the open position.

 

"Be vewwy vewwy quiet." I said.

 

Jim was vewwy vewwy quiet.

 

"No one is alone," I said.

 

Jim sat still.

 

"Nod, Jimbo," I said.

 

Jim nodded.

 

"No one is alone, so no one is worthless," I said. I pointed the gun at his head. "Do you have any questions at this point?" I asked.

 

Jim started to nod again, then violently shook his head.

 

"It's waves, Jim," I said. "You do something to one person and it ripples out. It changes things. You should nod again now."

 

Jim nodded up and down three times.

 

"And you never know when it's over, Jim my man. For example, say you hit your girlfriend a few times." I paused.

 

Jim looked at me with wide eyes.

 

"I said, 'Say you hit your girlfriend a few times.'" I waved the gun a bit.

 

"I," croaked Jim. "I..."

 

"Close enough. And say you bought her a few nice things and sent her away, still the closest of friends."

 

"I," croaked Jim. "I..."

 

"That's OK, Jim. But say this girlfriend did not LIKE being beaten up and then bought off. Say she decided to be... oh, I don't know..."

 

"Your worst nightmare." It was Tina's voice. She was standing by the couch, in her blood stained sweater and bare legs.

 

Jim jerked as if I shot him. He stared over at Tina with his jaw opened.

 

"You never liked horror movies, did you, Jim?" Tina said.

 

Jim finally found his voice. "So it really was a joke," he said. And he actually started to smile.

 

"Oh, no," I said. "This is no joke. It's a way of getting your attention. Look around and tell me what all these people have in common..." I glance around. Everyone but Tina were still lying in their final poses. "...that is, beyond the fact that they're all good at playing dead."

 

Jim tried to laugh. "I get it!" he said.

 

"No, you don't," I said. "All these people are united by the bruises on Tina's back, and legs, and arm. You made some pretty powerful enemies when you raised your hand, Jim. And Tina made some powerful friends."

 

Jim stood up, still doing his fake laugh, and stepped toward the door, avoiding the pig's blood stains on the floor and the "bodies" of Tina's new friends. As he walked, Tina and I were glad to see he had wet his nice Italian pants.

​

After he was gone, Tina looked at me. "I don't know if we got through to him, Tommy, but I thank you for trying." And then to the others, "I thank all of you for trying."

 

I smiled a bit, a natural smile. "Just making waves."

 

Tina looked around again. Everyone was still lying motionless on the floor (or over the arm of the couch in Lacey's case). "You can get up now guys," she said.

 

Stephanie's voice came from near the door. "We're waiting for Tommy to give us mouth-to-mouth."

 

Tina smiled. "Good idea!" she said, and then fell to the floor with a sigh.

 

Dutiful soul that I am, I went around the room, caressing the Tina, Kim, Melanie, Stephanie, Jessica, and Lisa (the woman in the green robe), covering their mouth with mine. I had to lower Lacey down to the floor first, which was kind of fun too. I revived each of the victims...

 

... except Jacob. He was on his own ...

​

Continue The Game (Chapter 1. In(tro)duction)

 

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Copyright 2002-2019 DPsleepy.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

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