Welcome to Riverdale (Reggie Mantle)

14

"Dear Diary,

And soon enough, I was the biggest mystery of Riverdale. People were more captivated by my every move, no longer caring about the murderer that roamed the streets.

Yours Truly,
Roselle."

PART ONE OF TWO

What you are about to witness are the three twisted tales connected to the tragic and macabre events that befell the town of Riverdale.

Known as the "Black Hood Murders," they were all the more tragic because those that bore witness to these terrible things were so young.

A seemingly random shooting quickly revealed itself to be the first in a series of gruesome attacks perpetrated by the hooded assailant.

These latest chapters began with the discovery of a letter from the Black Hood affixed to the door of Pop Tate's Chock' Lit Shoppe.

Roselle & Reggie

It all started with the slight whisper that fell from someone's lips. Passed on from one person to the next, from a Ghoulie, to a serpent and to an everyday Northside resident. All stories having slight differences with one another, yet they all had a similar ending.

Roselle Lilly Parker was in danger.

'The weekend of the Peril' it was called. The weekend that will soon determine the fate of Riverdale and more specifically, the fate of the not-so-new girl, Roselle. She was just merely a beautiful face that everyone had seemed enchanted by, some more than others. But now, she was remembered as the face that seduces outlaws and corruption.

The Parker girl was used to the attention she got when she walked down the hallway of Riverdale High, but this time it was different. Because the eyes were not ones of admiration, rather the ones of judgemental, rumourmongers.

"Ever since she came to Riverdale, that's when everything bad happened here."

"She was probably the one who wrote the letter to the Shoppe."

"I heard her parents died, maybe she came here for revenge."

"Maybe she loves shagging serpents and ghoulies."

"Do you think she's a cannibal like the rest of the ghoulies?"

"I reckon she's the black hood and goes around killing people with her boyfriend, Malachai."

Roselle was taught at a young age that at some point of her high school life, rumours would evade her life. She had grown layers and layers of skin, one that was merely impossible to penetrate. Yet, a simple sentence was enough to make her feel dizzy and nauseous, regretting the day she had ever left her home, her barrier from reality.

"She probably killed her last boyfriend."

Her feet stopped in the middle of the corridor, her breath faltering. It was like someone had knocked the air out of her, unable to let oxygen into her system anymore. The room around her was spinning, Roselle feeling like she had drunken way beyond of what she could handle.

Holding the wall beside her for support, all Roselle was hearing was a loud buzz in her ear. Her lips quivered as her face felt flushed. She felt sick, wanting to vomit right then and there. The raven haired teenager felt pressure on her hand, a force pulling her into some sort of room that she couldn't make out.