Thrill Killing

CHAPTER II

TRIGGER WARNINGS - Mentions of drug and alcohol usage. Mild violence.

WILBUR

Knock-knock-knock!
A gentle rapping on Dr. Hilton's door brought his attention to the tall 12th-year student who entered his classroom, a student who he didn't expect to see this hour. It's not like Wilbur would come to visit Tommy and Freddie; they weren't friends. Come to think of it, he wasn't friends with anyone. Maybe he was purposely isolating himself... Still, though, his being a quiet person made him much more preferable than the other loud and irritating students.

    "Hello, Wilbur. How can I help you?" Dr. Hilton asked.

    "Hello, sir. I just wanted to let you know that as I just overheard Freddie, Ronald, and Tommy saying how they were going to be ditching school. I thought that you might want to know," Wilbur told him, his voice both serious and respectful. Dr. Hilton's face dropped instantly.

    "They...They what?" he questioned through gritted teeth.

    "They're ditching school." Wilbur repeated himself.

    "I heard you the first time, Wilbur," he quickly said, quieting him. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. Quieting himself, he started speaking again. "Wilbur, I'm sorry if this is making you go out of your way, but could you please bring them back to school for me?"

    "I would sir, but that might make me late to my other classes," Wilbur replied.

    "I will let the principal know where you've gone so you can be excused from any of your classes." Wilbur nodded his head.

    "Alright. I'll bring them back as quickly as I can, sir," he said.

    "Thank you."

With that, Wilbur turned and left, and with purposeful strides he made his way out of the school's front door. As he walked, however, he began to think about where they could have gone. They must have already left the school by the time he arrived at Dr. Hilton's classroom.

I should try using logic first. Where would they head first? There's a small store nearby, maybe they're going there?

Wilbur paused as he left through the school's front gates, having made it only a few steps before stepping in something soft underfoot. Looking down, he saw that the dirt beneath had turned to mud due to the rain from that morning. There was no chance for things to dry up; the sun was covered by slate grey clouds. Lifting his foot up, Wilbur noticed that his shoe left a defined print in the mud. Looking over the mud, he found more footprints than his own. Three sets, to be exact. All of which headed into the forest located directly to the side of the school.

    "This looks promising," Wilbur said to himself, "I'll be able to find them and bring them back to school in no time."

Wilbur headed into the wood, his footsteps muffled by damp leaves underfoot and the soft dirt beneath those. The forest floor was completely covered in a bed of honey and copper leaves making it difficult to tell where rocks or small holes were, and Wilbur's shoe got caught on a ground root more than a few times. Wild growth that remained unkempt by the school meant branches crept out and snagged themselves onto Wilbur's shirt, slowing him down as he took the time to unlatch them to prevent his shirt from ripping. Though he was being poked and prodded by the wildlife, Wilbur kept his calm and remained patient as he followed the path of disturbed leaves that the three had kicked and scratched up.

Not more than five minutes passed by before Wilbur caught up to them, hearing their voices from up ahead.They were talking loudly as if they didn't expect anybody to hear them. Of course they would; why would they suspect that Wilbur would be following them?