AN: Okay, so let's say that the last chapter was just a starter and this is the real deal. Maybe it's a little too much like a cross between Carrie and Ginger Snaps, due to the high-school horror thing, but who cares? Besides, I think it works. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

She was dead. Gone. Dead as a doornail and gone for good. The strange little girl hiding in the corner without a friend to bother was dead. Hell, everybody knew that! Word like that didn't take much time to spread in a small suburban town like Winton Hills. It wasn't like it mattered to anyone 'cause they all hated her. Stupid little goody-two-shoes bitch with her skinny little legs, greasy hair, pasty face and garbage bags of burlap for dresses! Who cared if she was dead? For all they cared, she was better off staying underground. It was fun killing her anyway. One hell of a party, that was!

"Oh, baby!" Johnny Williams laughed in a high-pitched voice as he rode her like a horse. "You want some o' this? Hmm?"

They all laughed at her when she screamed and cried, wailing for mercy. Every last jock of the school, drunk on whiskey and high on pot. They were having the time of their lives torturing the school freak, what's-her-face. They'd had this planned for so long since the bitch set her big foot through the door of Bailey C. I. and ruined its good name. Christ, people could smell her B. O. the very second she came in class. Did she never in her life hear about the invention called the shower, let alone step in one and use it?

So, God knew she had to go. What was she good for, anyway? She was just some other good-for nothing piece of shit that nobody would care about if she was gone.

All they had to do was trick her stupid pea-sized brain into thinking she belonged and invited her to a party with all the guys-Johnny Williams (of course), the now drunken Patrick Brown, Jamie Lansdowne (who was now as high as a kite from that tablet of ecstasy he took) and smoked up Steven Lee-get her drunk off her ass and have their fun with her. They toyed with her, pinned her down and just plain fucked her senseless. Then the real fun began!

She sobbed and screamed and shrieked for so long, that they just couldn't help but laugh. It was just so much funs to tease her and watch her cry like a baby. God, she was pathetic! It was like watching a fish wriggling and writhe on a hook when it knew that the bate floating right in front of them was just too good to be true and look where it ended up. They laughed like madmen as she begged for freedom.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Patrick said as he dragged her back to where she belonged. "You're staying with the big boys tonight. Come on, don't you want to have a party?"

"No!" the little wimp wailed. "I don't want to! I want to go home!"

"Aww!" Johnny pouted mockingly. "Does the wittle bitty baby girl want her daddy?"

"Please!" she sobbed heavily. "I want to see my daddy! I want to go home!"

"Oh!" Johnny said and turned to his pals and spread his arms wide apart like a ringleader in a circus. "Hear that, fellas? Little baby girl wants her daddy!"

The crowd burst in drunken laughter and Johnny unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans to show his sudden erection to the girl and she screamed until his hand muffled her up.

"Shut up," he grinned. "I'll show you to your daddy. D'you wanna see your daddy? Who's your daddy? Huh? Who's your daddy?"

And he slipped her baggy skirt up again to force her legs so wide apart that they nearly broke from her hips and slipped easily inside. She still cried like a baby and maybe she was a little freak with nothing better to do than hide in corners without any friends, but she was one hell of a coaster to ride. God, she was so tight! Maybe she was good for something, to say the very least. Johnny had his fun in enjoying her as his fuck toy, but let's face it; the bitch was a stone to be stepped on.

Still, Johnny's climax reached higher and higher, quicker and quicker, as he moved inside her and let his cock swell even bigger between her legs. She soon calmed down. Maybe she was beginning to like fucking. Not exactly what they had in mind, but it was good to know that they'd at least made something of an effort. Her pulse was beating faster. He could hear it pumping like a drum in a rock concert. Beating harder, faster and louder. She was so quiet once Johnny felt an explosion of release. She didn't move a muscle and Johnny smiled as he leaned over to her and whispered in her ear: "Did you like that, bitch? Did you enjoy that?"

"Uh, dude?" Steven murmured.

"What?" Johnny shot at his buddy, but when the rest of the gang looked at he and the victim, he suddenly looked at her plain, dull, empty eyes and saw his hand still forced over her mouth and nose.

He gasped and stood aback from her, snapping his hand away from her and seeing her body simply lying there limp and lifeless.

The crowd cheered; as Johnny merely stood there silent and zipping his jeans back up. The entire gang all laughed and billowed like monkeys, chugging down their whiskey and smoking their cigarettes when all Johnny could do was stand there, staring at her. She was dead. She was really dead. Not like what they'd hoped to be just another joke on another class loser…but really dead!

"Hey, Williams!" Jamie slurred as he slammed his hand on Johnny's shoulder. "Couldn't have done it better ourselves!"

"You fucked her to death!" Patrick hiccupped. "You fucking fucked her to death, man!"

"Nice one, man!" Jamie cheered and took another swig and the crowd still cheered to their party as if New Year had arrived. This sent Johnny's ears steaming, his muscled tightening and his brain burning with rage. What idiots! She was dead, for hell's sake! Dead! Nothing! No more! The light snuffed out of her! Breathing no more! Pulse gone for good! Just plain fucking dead!

And they were laughing.

"Shut up!" Johnny exploded, suddenly sending the room into silence. He walked towards the drunken morons stinking with sex, drugs, smokes and drink and pointed at the dead girl. "She's dead," he scolded.

"Yeah," Jamie said lazily, suppressing laughter. "That's kinda the point, man."

Hearing this, the boys all snickered, snorting like the three little pigs. Continuously, they laughed like hyenas and chugged back too much whiskey for their own good. They circled and taunted him. Fuck, they may as well have sung Ring Around the Rosie and skipped around him like children! Johnny couldn't take it anymore. He just couldn't. A girl was dead because of him; because of them. He felt his brain expanding like a balloon ready to pop. Sooner than later, he did pop and he grabbed Patrick's whiskey bottle by the neck-"Hey!" Patrick shot- and threw it against the wall, letting it shatter to a million little pieces. At last, the room went as quiet as the grave.

"We killed someone, guys," he said firmly. "She is dead because of what we did to her. We killed her."

The boys watched Johnny with their big bug eyes as if he were a television screen. They weren't listening, but name one drunk or druggie that would listen. They only knew that he was mad. Nothing else to it, he was mad.

"Well," Patrick slurred. "What are we supposed to do?"

"We have to tell the police," Johnny said seriously, but how could anyone have taken him seriously?

"Oh, hell no!" Jamie shook his head.

"Can't tell no one," Steven added. "They'll kill us."

"Dude, we're fucked."

No shit, they were fucked. Johnny, in particular, was seeing as he was the one who killed her to begin with. Funnily enough, he never liked the bitch when she was alive and he was the one who killed her…so why was he the only one who felt any guilt at all? There was no way in hell that something like this could go by unnoticed. If he told the police, he'd spend years behind bars. If he hid the body, he'd never live it down.

"We have to hide it, man," Steven suggested.

"Hide it?" Johnny snapped. "Are you insane? They'll find her!"

Oh, they'd find her all right. They'd hear of a girl missing, then they'll send policemen and watchdogs to find her and wherever they search, they'll get closer to finding her with all that fancy technological detective shit they have, then they'll find her body and ask people her family and teachers knew and then-after courts, clues and accusations-they'll find out who killed her. Johnny's stomach was twisting already, just looking at her body with heavy limbs and empty eyes.

"Well, what else are we gonna do?" Steven asked. "If we can't hide her, what else do we do?"

"We have to tell someone what we did," Johnny said simply, but the gang suddenly buzzed in horror at the sound of this foreign sentence.

"Oh, fuck no, man!" Patrick slurred. "You know what's gonna happen then? We're all gonna die in there!"

"We're all gonna die!"

These four words repeated themselves like a turning circle as the boys panicked, screaming about whether or not they were going to die. Well, of course they would die sooner or later, but jail was jail; it wasn't as if they'd kill you in the snap of a finger. Johnny rolled his eyes at the pathetic bunch. Steven was the only one who seemed to make the most sense of all of them.

"Fine," he grunted. "If no one else is going to help me, I guess I'll have to take care of this myself. Seeing as I'm the only one who's sober here, I'll take the car."