《Cannibal Cheerleader》67: Party Platter - Part 6

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The two girls went in the closet and closed the door, shutting out the circle's chatter. Chase blinked in the blackness. It really was dark in here, she couldn't see anything.

She heard O'Connell's voice. “Well, alright, here we are.” Her voice sounded surprisingly loud and close in the tiny closet. “So, why'd you want to be in here with me? Are you too shy to come in with a guy? You don't seem like the bashful type. Got a boyfriend, want to avoid an awkward situation?”

“Well, yes, do have. But that not why.”

“Oh?” asked the voice, sounding amused. “Well, if you're hoping for something to happen, sorry, you're cute, but I'm not ready for another woman. I just got out of something...VERY long term.”

Chase had no idea what she was talking about. “All I hope for is find Leash,” she said sternly. “You tell where real Leash is, and who you.”

Babyface was silent for a moment. “Huh? What are you talking about, Chase?” she tried innocently.

“Am not dumb. Know you not Leash. No point to lie,” said Chase. “You tell where Leash is, or I hit you.”

O'Connell thought about this. The two young women sat in silence, listening to each other. Chase could almost hear the wheels turning in the impostor's head as she considered her options. The air was stuffy. Quite a few people had been through here by this point, and a lot of heavy breathing had gone on. It also smelled like moth balls.

“You'll hit me, huh?” asked Babyface O'Connell. “And how will your friends react to that, huh? When they hear me scream and see me come out with a black eye?”

Chase frowned. This girl had a good point, but there was just one problem: If Alicia was in danger, Chase didn't really care what happened to herself. “Where Leash?” she repeated, more aggressively this time.

“She's fine,” said O'Connell, a heartless smile in her voice. “In fact, she's probably somewhere very warm and safe right about now. My old cell was actually pretty cozy.”

Then, Chase understood. “You tee vee girl. Girl who waste kill,” she said, stunned. “Switch place with Leash and run.”

“Yeah, something like that. Now you're getting it.” She slowly groped in the dark for her bag. “I honestly didn't think any of you dumbass teenagers would figure it out, but you did. Congratulations. Now, guess what comes next.”

It was a pretty easy guess. “You try kill me?”

Babyface O'Connell would have answered her with a needle in the neck, but something was wrong. Her hand kept clutching in the dark and touching nothing but air and carpet. Where was the bag? She didn't bring it in with her?

Her mind raced. Did she leave it out in the circle? Did she HAVE it in the circle? Where the fuck did she put it? She'd been careless. Was it the alcohol? Or just the exhilaration of being on the outside?

“Can try if want. But I not killed from you,” said Chase calmly. “You kill lots. Good at kill. But more to kill than just good.”

“Yeah? What do you know about it?” O'Connell confronted her.

“Kill? Know much of kill,” said Chase. “You kill for self. I have done, too. But kill much more strong when kill to feed ma and pa, when kill to save friends. So you can kill for self, but I not die till Leash is safe.”

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Babyface O'Connell listened to this as she continued to hunt around for the bag. What was this chick talking about? Was she out of her mind? O'Connell naturally didn't believe what Chase was saying about having killed before, but she knew Chase was thinking dangerously, and that was enough to make her dangerous. This girl had to go, and quick.

But the bag wasn't here. O'Connell could have strangled her, but she wasn't about to kill her in a way that would be obvious assault to the other partygoers. That was just too risky. The nice thing about the injection was that it was discreet. No one would really know Chase had died of unnatural causes until Babyface was long gone.

She had to get away. Chase heard a rustle in the dark as Babyface O'Connell stood up. The gangster quickly grabbed an armload of coats, took them down off their hanging bar all at once, tossed them on Chase, threw open the door, and ran.

Chase struggled with the heavy clothes for only a moment, untangling herself from them, throwing them off and leaping up to her feet. She burst out into the room and looked around.

It may have only been a moment, but it was long enough for O'Connell to get away. Chase looked around the circle. Everyone was still chatting and laughing with one another, oblivious that anything was wrong.

Lindsey had draped herself on a running back, and the duo were leaving the living room and heading for the stairs. Chase caught up with her. “Lin! Where you go?”

“Oh, I figure the game can carry on without me from here,” she said with a hiccup. “Me and Adrian here are gonna find somewhere quiet to just chill out for a while.”

Chase thought this was a great idea. “Good. Get to safe place. You see where Leash go?”

The inebriated Lindsey tried to remember. “She came running out of the closet really fast...”

“It looked to me like she had to puke!” the running back shouted, also quite drunk. “I'd check the bathroom!”

Chase didn't like the idea of the fake Alicia running around unaccounted for. Who knew what she might try to do now that she was exposed. Someone as dangerous at her, in a state of desperation, might be capable of anything.

“Where Cait?” asked Chase.

The running back put his hands around Lindsey's waist from behind, and she flirtatiously leaned back against him. “Huh? Oh. Yeah, I think she wandered off while you were in the closet. She's around here somewhere.”

Chase put a hand on Lindsey's shoulder. “If you see Cait, tell her Leash not real Leash. She is fake Leash from tee vee.”

“Yeah, sure, I'll tell her whatever you just said,” said Lindsey distractedly. The running back swept her up into his arms. “Aaah!” Giggling, she laced her fingers around the back of his neck as he carried her upstairs.

Once they were out of sight, Chase was on her own. She immediately set about searching the house. She heeded the running back's advice and checked the downstairs bathroom first, figuring she didn't have anything better to go on. O'Connell wasn't there, so Chase moved on.

Chase had been living in this house for over a month now, so she knew her way around it very well. She checked the basement, then the backyard, the dining room, and Alicia's dad's office, and all the closets along the way. It would have been nice if the danger and uncertainty of the situation had sobered her up, but it wasn't working that way. Chase was able to walk, but her head still felt fuzzy, and her balance was not what it usually was. She hoped she wouldn't have to fight in this state, that she could put O'Connell down quickly, without too much trouble.

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When Chase reached the kitchen, she spotted O'Connell. On the island counter, next to the empty shot glasses, was a silver briefcase. O'Connell was checking its contents, looking relieved. When she saw Chase, she pulled one of the hypodermic needles out of it, then snapped it shut.

“Well, here you are,” commented the criminal. “Thanks for saving me the trouble of tracking you down.”

She raised the needle to the light, checked the amount of liquid inside, then squeezed a little out. The toxic fluid arced through the air before christening Alicia's kitchen floor with its dark droplets. “You know, you're just too fucking nosy for your own good. If you would have just left me alone, believed I was this Alicia chick, not only could you have avoided death, all your little friends could have, too. You have nobody to blame but yourself for what's about to happen.”

Chase looked shocked. “You want kill class mates too?”

“Of course. How do I know haven't already told some of them who I am? And if I assume you did, how do I know which ones you told? Why, you're so noble and selfless I'm sure you warned as many people as you could,” said O'Connell, rounding the island. There was nothing separating her and Chase now. She had the needle aimed up at the ceiling, pointer and middle finger gripping the small plastic hilt, thumb firmly on the plunger. She bore a cold, malicious smile, which, to Chase, looked obscene and perverse on Alicia's face. “No, there's no putting the toothpaste back in the tube now, sweetheart. You all have to die. But you'll be first!”

She leapt at Chase, stabbing the needle forward with an incredible strength and momentum. Chase danced out of the way, surprised with the girl's speed. O'Connell, likewise, was surprised with Chase's. She whirled around and stabbed a couple more times. First, at Chase's face, causing the blonde to duck low and to the right, then, at Chase's stomach. But Chase predicted this move. While ducking under the first stab, Chase intentionally planted her right foot at such an angle that she could bounce back to the left like a coiled spring, dodging the second stab as well. O'Connell was astonished. Apparently, this teenager wasn't all talk.

Before she could pull back her arm for another stab, Chase pirouetted a roundhouse kick to the side of Babyface O'Connell's head.

The gangster saw stars for a moment as she was thrown off her feet. She tumbled, out of control, across the top of the island. The high, piercing cries of clinking, shattering shot glasses filled the small kitchen. The girl landed on her back on the other side, and she had enough of her wits about her to shield her eyes and close her mouth as bits and pieces of broken glass clattered to the floor around her.

When O'Connell opened her eyes, she saw the suitcase thrown open, lying on its side nearby. Chase must have knocked it over as well. And it was a good thing, too. Arm's reach.

She thrust a hand inside, grabbed as many of the needles as she could, then sat up just in time to see Chase round the island. She flung one of the needles at her enemy like a dart. Chase dodged, and the deadly instrument embedded itself in the wall above the Alcott family toaster.

O'Connell leapt up to her feet, and more needles flew from her hand. Chase dashed ahead of them as she tried to round the island from the other side, feeling them blow past her back by mere millimeters. One stuck in a cupboard door, another pierced a photo on the fridge, and a third tore through a bag of coffee beans sitting on the counter, spilling them all over the laminate surface.

On the counter next to the stove was a jar of large utensils, spatulas and ladles and the like, all sticking out handles-up. As Chase passed it, she grabbed one of the handles, jerked its owner from the jar, and put a hand on the island's countertop, vaulting over to face O'Connell head-on. O'Connell's eyes flew to the weapon in Chase's hand, and saw it was a shiny, stainless steel barbecue fork.

Chase hoped this was where Babyface's eyes would go. Rather than stab with the fork, she slung another kick, this time into the redhead's back.

O'Connell staggered forward as Chase landed behind her, then whirled around. A fresh needle in hand, she jabbed it at Chase's face.

Chase parried with the barbecue fork, then thrust it towards O'Connell's stomach. O'Connell sidestepped, spun the needle in her hand to adjust her grip for downward stabbing, then brought it down at Chase's head.

Chase caught the needle between the fork's two prongs. With a hard twist, she disarmed her enemy, the needle departing O'Connell's hand and spiraling end over end through the air. It came down on the Alcott family fruit bowl, where it sheathed itself in the soft flesh of a bright red apple. In a matter of seconds, its skin wrinkled and turned brown from the toxic chemical.

Armed only with her bare hands, O'Connell was forced to suddenly evaluate her options. This teenager could fight, that much was for sure. O'Connell possibly got in over her head when she sought to challenge her. Her suitcase was at her feet, and Chase was not going to give her time to take another needle from it.

Chase swung the fork at O'Connell's side. The redhead jumped back...and her foot came down on one of the round plastic lime juice bottles. She slipped, and her back slammed hard to the floor.

Seizing this opportunity, Chase was on top of her in an instant. In another instant, she had the barbecue fork two inches deep in Babyface O'Connell's shoulder.

The woman howled in pain and anger. She kicked her legs up, flipping Chase off her with incredible force. The blonde tumbled into the pantry, where she collided with a shelf, bringing some boxes and cans of food raining down on her.

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