Dark Valentine (Monster High; Book 1 of the DV Duology)

Chapter 20: Unfavourable Incident

Jackson

A few months had passed since that wonderful morning and it was now March, and for the most part things had been going well. The only complaints I really had concerned the play. Everyone had their speaking lines and their songs down, but there were a few issues that needed to be sorted out, and soon.

The first thing was speeding up the scene changes, as they were taking way too long. The second thing was getting people to stop talking backstage and in the wings.

We were making progress with the scene changes, so those weren't that bad at this point, but the talking was a big problem since the people onstage needed to be able to focus, and whoever wasn't needed to listen for their cues. Overall, it was really distracting.

Mr. Where actually had to keep the class five minutes late today just so he could lecture them about it, noting that the ones who did it the most were Frankie, Hoodude, Heath and Toralei. Some of us also mentioned that while Heath and Hoodude listened to our constant reminders without complaint, Toralei in particular would get irritated and argue. Frankie did that sometimes, too, but was much more polite about it when she did.

So hopefully the lecture would help solve that problem.

Anyway, I had to get my homework done right when I got home from school, as Holt had a gig tonight. It took me a bit longer to complete than normal, but I still managed to get it done before dinner. I was glad for that, because Holt had to leave pretty much right after.

Everything went as expected at first; I let Holt out like I normally would, so that he could leave and get to where he needed to be. I assumed he got there, since I was outside an unfamiliar building late at night when I returned, but anything besides that was left to Holt's memory.

I checked my watch to see exactly what time it was, and it was about 2:30 in the morning. And to my surprise, Holt's headphones were gone. They weren't connected to my phone anymore, but the phone was in my pocket.

Suddenly, I heard several sets of footsteps behind me, and I turned around cautiously to see a group of Normies there. The one that caught my attention right off the bat was the man who was once the sheriff of New Salem, the one who'd tried to have Holt executed two years ago. And he had Holt's headphones in his hand.

He looked a bit different than the last time I'd seen him. The moustache he'd had was now a full bear, and instead of a uniform he wore an unbuttoned flannel shirt over a white T-shirt and jeans.

Clearly Holt had been trying to get away from the group, and the guy got ahold of his headphones before he could. Holt must have continued running even though he was in mid-transformation, fighting it for as long as possible.

That was what I was able to put together from what I saw, anyway, and rather than dwell on it, I focused on getting the hell out of here.

But I didn't get far, because they caught up to me after a few blocks and the ex-sheriff, who'd tossed the headphones aside once he saw me transform, was able to grab hold of my arm.

I turned so I was facing him again, but as much as I tried I couldn't free my arm from his grasp. I was stuck there. Being this close to the group, though, I was able to make out who the others were. Two of them also used to be cops, and they were extremely incompetent—which was why they'd been fired. But there was one other person who I didn't recognize. He was probably a friend of theirs or something, though, and from the look of them it was clear that they were all very drunk.

"Well, well," said the ex-sheriff, glaring down at me, "I was hoping I'd run into you again. Wanted to have a little chat."

A chat. Right. No, their real intention was crystal clear to me.

"I haven't forgotten that Halloween, you know," he continued, "And if I'd had my way, you'd be dead by now."

And you wonder why they fired you, I thought, but didn't say it out loud.

"Not gonna say anything? What, did all that loud music finally fuck up your hearing?"

I wished he'd let go of my arm; it was beginning to hurt from how tight his grip was. And really, his only reason for coming after me at all was because he hadn't gotten to see Holt executed like he wanted.

And that last comment, Holt would've belted him for it in a second. But I didn't have that in me right now; I was too freaked out. But even if I wasn't, I could never hit anyone unless they hit me first--self-defense.

"I have nothing to say to you," I told him, doing my best to keep from stuttering. It was the truth, though—he wasn't worth anything I could've said back. "I don't know what it is you want to hear from me, but you're not going to get it."

"Oh, come on, Eric," one of the other guys interjected, "Tell him what this is really about."

"Well, I can only guess you've come to finish what you started," I responded before Eric could.

"You're damn right," Eric was still glaring at me. I was shaking, and he could tell. I tried once more to pull my arm free, but he wasn't having it. The look in his eyes terrified me, because it told me how much he wanted to hit me.

It was ludicrous, though, how much hatred he held for Holt and I over something that not only happened over two years ago, but that we weren't even responsible for."You're insane, you know that?"

He scoffed and said, "No, no. What if I told you 'insane' was working hard to be a capable lawman and protect this town from monsters like you, at the abrupt end of which they tell me to piss off, just because the people demanded justice and I tried to give it to them? Wouldn't you consider that to be insane?"

It sounded to me like he was trying to quote Con Air, which really wasn't helping his case. But rather than point that out—something I knew would just make things worse for me—I shook my head in response to his question. "No, I wouldn't. They were right. That wasn't justice—it was misplaced vengeance."

That did it. Those words were what finally made him snap.