~Chapter XVII~

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~Madelyn~

I STARED VACANTLY AT THE LIFELESS corpse of the girl spread out on the floor. She was a beautiful canvas and dressed in the same manner to envision a masterpiece based on death after life. I suspected as much as she had been dolled up in a white dress gown with flower prints that seemed to mock the girl's virtue. Her blood red tresses cascaded in waves across the vibrant beige carpet beneath our feet, standing out like a lone star in a blackened sky.

"Is she dead?" Pink asked, tiptoeing towards the unmoving girl.

"Yes." It was impossible not to know when there was a elongated gash across her throat that was stitched together, as were her pale lips. The wound, I noticed, wasn't entirely fresh. The time it would require for her to bleed out would take a duration the killer wouldn't have possessed to do so and put together such a display for someone to stumble upon. But there was still blood on her.

Or possibly someone else's.

This was coordinated. The killer wanted us to find her like as she was, while also leaving behind the mystery of how she came to be like this.

"I don't like this." Blue shivered, a silent chill causing her to wrap herself in discomfort.

I didn't like it either. Whoever did this deliberately left the girl in such a way that was made to be interpreted as a message of warning.

But for who? And why?

I took a closer look at the body as Ridley started towards Makoto.

Freshly bloomed pansies feathered endless strands woven into her hair. The delicacy must have taken patience, as if the killer calculated each measurement and detail in giving her a falsehood of beauty and liveliness that was no longer there.

I might have believed she was asleep if it not for the lifelessness in her dull eyes.

We were looking at a man of experience and artistic interest.

"Who is that?" someone in the crowd asked.

"....her name tag..."

"....take her out of school?"

"Ridley," I beseeched. He pushed Makoto aside and joined me. "Who is this girl?"

His face paled as recognition gripped me. "It's Sarah." He turned back to me with a side eye over his shoulder. "Sarah Normack."

I peered down at the girl who broke Simon's heart.

Sarah had been a beautiful girl. More so with the touch of blush peppering her rounded cheeks and deep rouge lipstick coloring bow shaped lips. It coordinated oddly with the trail of hair smelling strongly of ammonia. Making me cringe at its perfumes.

"Wasn't Sarah a blonde?" I asked, recalling the few times I saw her strapped to Mallory's hip, laughing and mocking me alongside her friend with a flip of beautiful golden hair.

Ridley nodded. "Her hair is dyed."

Collective gasps echoed around the three of us. We had quite an audience. Hundreds of faces plagued in fear and absolute horror conjured by the sight of a fellow student were so displayed morbidly I almost felt bad. I was used to seeing dead bodies, whereas the students here were nurtured in diamonds and fashion trends. They were not familiar with death as I was, no matter how ugly and rotten their spoiled attitudes tried to put on a brave face.

"Simon won't take this well." A random boy said from in the crowd, standing in a circle of purple and silver jerseys I knew belonged to the soccer team. Simon was their captain after all.

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