Chapter Seventeen

874 82 24
                                    

There were many other places Kevin wanted to spend his Sunday night but the library was where he needed to be

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

There were many other places Kevin wanted to spend his Sunday night but the library was where he needed to be. However, studying was the last activity happening at his table. His head lay on a history book with his eyes shut. He purred lowly with one hand still on his laptop. A light tap on his shoulder sent him jumping out his skin. He barely caught himself before falling over.

    "Dude, they already accepted you. The library is for underclassmen," Gavin said, holding a copy of Ethan Frome. He refused to buy a book that he could check out for free at the library.

    "Is that how they do it at Princeton?" Kevin asked, trying to find his place in the book before he fell asleep.

    "No, but I'm above average. How's your face? I heard about your little incident last week," Gavin asked, grimacing at the bruise on Kevin's face. He could feel the pain just by looking at it. "Benny's a cool dude unless he snaps from the pressure," he added.

     "I know." Kevin yawned loudly. "I was a bastard, but you don't have to rub it in. It's your fault, jackass"

    "Fuck that, I wasn't even there. I was at the stables cleaning Speed Racer's stall," Gavin informed.

    "No, that pill I got from your room fucked me up," Kevin muttered as if someone were listening in the empty library. Gavin shot him a confused look. He hadn't taken any pills since he left rehab. If he had a headache, he endured the pain.

    "A purple pill," Kevin said, trying to jog his memory.

   "Dude, that was 'X' from my hardcore days. Next time read shit before you swallow," Gavin chuckled as he walked away feeling no guilt.

     "Dispose of your shit, you little drug addict," Kevin retorted, unaware of how true his words were.

      Alone, once again, Kevin tried to focus on the history of Germany. Unfortunately, he could not dive back into the House of Hohenzollern with tired eyes. His body wished to resume its state of sleep and he was not going to neglect that desire. Kevin stacked up the books and set them on the table behind him. He glanced at the time on his cell. It was twenty minutes past midnight.

      He collected his things. The library was eerily quiet but calming. He shoved all of his belongings into his green cloth backpack. He winced from a sharp pain in his shoulder. He reached to rub out the pain. Groaning under his breath he knew Lucas' forceful backhand was going to be a problem at tennis the next day. 

As he reached back to his shoulder, he felt a cold sharp object and his eyes grew wide as he drew back his hand, which was covered in iron-rich blood. Panic fueled his adrenaline as the faceless attacker, covered in a dark blue hoodie, pulled the blade out of his back then shoved it violently stabbed the other side of his back. The scream flooding up Kevin's throat was snob out by the thrust of the attacker's elbow to his neck. The impact on Kevin's Adam's apple had him gasping for air.

     Kevin abandoned the idea of fighting since the blade kept cutting into his flesh. His only option was flight.  Kevin whizzed as knocked over the table running for dear life. He reached the stairs with his foe right behind him. His foot hit the top stair. As he eyed his attacker in his peripheral vision, his knobby knees knocked together and he stumbled. For a brief second, his body hung in midair then crashed down the flight of stairs in front of him. Blood splattered the back staircase, with broken bones visible from his fall. 



Things don't end well for Kevin.  : ( 

Who's your prime suspect?

Who's your prime suspect?

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The Psychopath MakerWhere stories live. Discover now