Lenore. Nobody would expect her secret talent. Mostly because she was the fairest of them all. Alabaster white skin, golden hair, willowy figure, and haunting blue eyes led to all her male classmates congregating in her general vicinity.

Of course you would expect this to lead to many proposed dates. With her virtuous personality, she could get any freshman, sophomore, junior, or senior she wanted. She chose the date from the least expected person that sat towards the back in most of her AP classes. Nobody expected her to take the date from the sallow-skinned, raven-haired gothic dude with piercing green eyes that seemed to stare at people with a sense of lust. The one with the name of Steve.

…..

"Dude, how did you get the date with Lenore? You're… THAT, and she is smart, looks nice, and IS nice," one of Steve's sworn enemies, Caleb asked.

"I don't know what possessed her to ask me, but do not ask what does not pertain to you."

"What?"

"Shut up and don't ask questions."

….

"Lenore, why did you accept Steve? He's so creepy, and I fear he's going to steal all of our souls just for world domination," Karen, Lenore's clueless best friend inquired, with fear in her eyes.

"Don't you remember my book? The one that allows the owner to sic the creepy character of Edgar Allan Poe on enemies? I was thinking of using it to rid the world of an extremely conceited goth."

"But that's cruel… Steve is a nice person, though I still think he wants all of our souls for nefarious purposes. It's not like you would know that, considering you're always surrounded by a mob of preppy people."

Lenore reached into her designer handbag, the perfect complement to her scarlet custom-tailored dress, and pulled out a thick volume with the words The Complete Tales and Poems of Egdar Allan Poe scrawled on it and slowly opened it to the story The Premature Burial. She started reading it in her mind, as this was her favorite form of torture, and watched Karen sink into the ground shrieking hysterically for mercy.

…

Friday night: 6 P.M.

"Hello, Steve. Lovely night isn't it?"

"Yes. Very. Are you ready to go?"

"Almost; I just have to get something out of my room."

"Okay. Then we shall leave and go to the restaurant."

With the book in her purse, Lenore followed Steve to the monochrome Mitsubishi Eclipse. Little did he know that his date was plotting his utter demise right in her demented little mind. Oh what fun!

…

"Why do you have that look on your face? It isn't like you. People expect it from me, but they expect you to be nice and happy. Not like you're plotting someone's murder," Steve stated when they arrived at the fancy French eatery.

Oh shit he's on to me! Lenore thought. "Oh it's nothing. I just had a giant piece of hair in my eye. It was bothering me so I was attempting to move it with my mind."

"You're a lot less sane than people predict you are."

"How do you know I wasn't also practicing my glare for when people hit on me while I was pretending that my lock of hair was that person?"

"Again. More insane than not."

"What is it with you and talking in fragmented sentences? That isn't normal, either."

"Since when have people expected me to converse in the usual manner of speaking? I'm not even expected to be normal."

"That may be a good point, but it still irks me when don't speak in complete sentences most of the time."

…..

Well, young love (or hate) can be awkward, but Steve thought it was downright unpleasant. What kind of person practices glaring at people? Oh yeah, that's right! Psychopaths with too much time on their hands.

Why is Lenore acting so strangely? Is it because she's worried about her reputation? No, she's too intelligent for that. That look. The look on her face when I told her she looked as if she was plotting to kill somebody. That's it! She's plotting murder! Now, try to look as if I haven't figured that out yet. Perfect.

"Anyways, what's new amongst your group of friends?" Lenore asked, diverting Steve's attention from that dark train of thought.

"Well, Genevieve broke her ankle Tuesday. That wasn't horribly fun for any of us. What's new with your friends?"

"Nobody in the swarm is my friend, if that's who you're referring to. All that's happened is that Karen disappeared earlier this week."

"Really? I thought she went on vacation. People of 'the swarm' said she committed suicide."

"No, I talked to her five minutes over the phone before she disappeared. My theory is that she was abducted."

Abducted. Hmph. That will throw Steve off the scent. I could tell that he was thinking about my sudden change in thought on the ride over here.

As the dinner progressed, Lenore remembered that time was wearing thin. She excused herself to go to the bathroom, and she brought her purse. Along with the book.

….

Come on. Where is it? Oh, here it is. The Black Cat. Now where is the part in which the narrator hangs the cat? Found it, and now I shall commence in reading. I am elated that that mage gave this to me.

What's this? Steve seems to be thinking some thought. He's paying the tab, and now he's walking to his car. From the trunk, he produced a thick rope. His hands slowly tied a noose, then tied the noose to a post right outside the building. Dangling from the rope, he breathed his last words, "I wish I had finished the date."

But what became of Lenore? Did she succumb to murder? No, both Steve's and Karen's ghosts rose up from their bodies, stole the book, and used The Raven to get rid of her.

How? In the actual poem, the bird carries the horrid memories of Lenore from the narrator. In this case, however, the ghosts used it to kill Lenore herself.