He closed that door and I dropped my head in an angered sigh, angry with him, with myself. I tried to pick myself up again, groaning at the stinging pain in my brain. It wasn’t a matter of right or wrong anymore— but life and death.
Max didn’t deserve to die, and I was treacherous for speaking his name… for what? For another sexual experience? For another sliver of happiness? It was fucked up, I knew that.
I picked at my clothes, ignoring the agonizing pain that rang in my ears as I dressed. I need to save him, I can’t let him get away with this. I need to save Max.
I have to.
Problem is, I know next to nothing about the kid, besides the fact that he lives at the fraternity. And that’s a place I haven’t wanted to step back on to, but here I am— sacrificing my comfort to save a man that laughed in my face. It was pitiful, but I couldn’t live with the thought of me being the reason for his demise.
I struggled out of the door, hopeful that I wouldn’t be too far behind him. But as I trudged through the halls and down the stairs, I couldn’t help but think of what he meant when he said; “we’re cut from the same cloth… I get you… and you get me.” From where I stood, from where I scrambled down steps to save the life of someone who didn’t give a shit about me— I realized I was nothing like him.
I cared about others regardless if they cared about me. I wasn’t heartless or vengeful or… hateful. I’m not a killer, I can’t be.
The night time air hit me like a ton of bricks, the breeze swaying through my short hair as I broke out in a sprint towards Greek Row. I could make it, I could save him.
Nothing prepared me for such a vigorous run, such a sprint that my feet nailed to the ground with. I’ve never ran so fast with so much purpose. I just knew I needed to get there before another tragedy could occur.
And as I turned on to the dimly lit road of Greek Row, as I passed house after house, this twinge of panic kept rising to my throat. I felt like I would spill my guts at any moment. But I made it, I stormed up the stairs to Kappa Phi and knocked furiously on the door until someone opened.
“What do you want?” Some tall, blonde and bulky man answered the door; drawn brows with a sour attitude.
I tried to look past him, “Have you seen Max?”
He blocked my vision, “What’s it to you?” He retorted, “Aren’t you that pledge that ran away crying the other week?” And I saw the slightest bit of amusement caught on his lips.
I dropped my stare to his eyes, “Have you seen Max?” I repeated, not looking for a play by play.
He scoffed, “Get lost weirdo.” And he shut the door in my face, leaving me speechless on the other side. In a way I thought, good, this is good. How could anyone make their way inside if the door gets slammed in their face.
But another part of me believed anything was possible, that other part of me that believed in ghost stories and serial killers and their will to do as they please. He… well… he didn’t admit it, but he did. He didn’t outright say, “I killed Corey.” But he may as well have. He said he deserved it, and that was enough of a confession to me. And if all that was true— then Max is most certainly next.
I bit at my lip, thinking of how I could warn him. But nothing came to mind as I stepped down the front porch and checked the coast. Nobody was outside, nobody would see if I snuck around the side of their house— so I did.
I ducked behind a hedge of bushes and hugged the exterior of the house, silently listening for any noise, for any sign of life behind these walls. But I heard nothing, absolutely nothing. Yet, I did see a light coming from a first story window.
I held my breath and peered inside, thankful for their lack of blinds and curtains. I didn’t see anyone, I surely didn’t see Max. I sighed in irritation. Why was it so hard to save someone from being murdered? Why is it me that had to do it? Why is my conscious so heavy?
But in that moment of clarity, I noticed the slight crack of the window, a slight enough crack for me to wedge my finger in and pry the window open.
Try as I might, I went as slow and as deliberate as I could, making as little noise as possible. And when the window was ajar just enough, I hoisted myself through and crawled to my feet inside their home. It was cold and this was a bedroom. Who’s? I don’t know. But all I could think about was finding Max.
As I tiptoed to the door, I pressed my ear against it, listening for noise in the hall. Nothing. But before I opened it, I needed to think of a plan— probably something I should’ve done a lot earlier. If I find Max, what do I say? “Some deranged killer is out to get you.”? No, that would only make me look crazy, or worse— an accomplice.
I racked my brain for what to say, deciding that any distraction would be enough. It didn’t have to be about the killer, right? I could just break into their house and act like I was upset they didn’t bid on me for their fraternity. Yeah… I could take the crazy route… get campus security called and make this place a killer free zone.
That’s all I could do.
So I opened the door with confidence, prepared to lie my way through the house until I found the man with a bounty on his head.
I tread through the hall carefully, blinded by the ornate detailing of the crown molding and carpet runners. And I kept on until I heard voices— a lot of them. They were all coming from a single space. I held the corner and peered inside a living room, and there he was— Max.
And he wasn’t alone, there were five other guys around him. This is perfect, I thought. But right as I was going to make a move to reveal myself, Max stumbled to his feet, clearly very intoxicated.
Not a good time. Not a good time. One look at me with five other drunk guys and… I couldn’t imagine what would happen to me. And I’m afraid to say that I cowered in fear and hid behind the corner, and watched all of them exit the room and go down a separate hallway and up stairs. None of them saw me, I guess I really am that invisible.
I shook my head with a deep breath, at least I know where he went. So I cautiously followed them up the stairs, hiding behind walls and ducking behind furniture until I saw which room Max fled to. Okay… okay, this is it.
Buckle up. It’s time.
I made a run for his door and opened it, letting myself inside and closing the door behind me. But his room was empty—
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I turned at his voice behind me.
I let out a sigh, “Max, I know y—“
“I asked you a question, faggot.” He stepped towards me, anger and drunkenness and disdain in his voice. I let the slur roll off my back, now wasn’t the time to ridicule.
I put my hands up, “Max…”
But he lunged at me, slapped me across the face. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He was slurring his words together as he towered over me.
“I— I ne—“
He grabbed me by the shoulders and tossed me into the wall, pinning me there by my throat. “No faggots allowed. Didn’t you get the hint?” I squirmed under the pressure of his hand. “And now you wanna sneak your gay ass in my room?” He spat in my face.
I tried to talk but I couldn’t, my oxygen was cut off.
“Clearly you didn’t get the message.” He let go of me and I gasped for air. But he only kneed me in the stomach and threw me to the floor with a thud. “How about I show you a lesson?” He smirked down to me before dropping on top of me and pulling at my pants.
“No—“ I urged him, but he was stronger than me; “Stop it, Max what the f—“ and his hand covered my mouth, muffling all of my words as he flipped me to my stomach and exposed my ass to him.
Oh my god… this is… am I about to be?
A fight or flight kicked in as I turned around and on my back again, kicking at him with no use. He was fumbling with his own pants, “Let me show you how disgusting a faggot is, hm?” He’s about to… rape me…
I was struggling under his force, doing anything I could to get away from him before—
Blood splattered all over my face, and Max started to scream before a hand covered his mouth and drug him to his feet.
It was him. He was in a mask, and he held a knife to Max’s throat.
I was in utter shock, watching everything transpire above me. “You just had to intervene?” He growled, pulling Max further away; “Get up and get gone. Now.” He ordered me.
I lifted to my knees and pulled my pants back up, stood and stared at Max’s pleading eyes.
“Don’t.” I pleaded for him, “Please don’t do th—“
And he slashed his knife across Max’s neck, blood draining from his throat as he fell limp to the floor.
I lost all of my breath, lost every sign of composure as my eyes started to water. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. What the fuck do I do. He’s going to kill me next. I looked up to his mask, only fear in my eyes.
“Leave. Now.” He ordered again, a steady stance with his knife in hand.
I obeyed. I sidestepped around the scene, careful not to let the blood touch my shoes as I walked to the door. “You won’t get away with this.” I cried, tears streaming down my face.
He chuckled, “Go sunshine.”
And I opened the door, not believing what I just witnessed. “What the fuck?” The boy from before saw me exiting Max’s room, blood still on my face. And the color from his face drained as his eyes went from me to the door then back to me.
He ran at me, pushed me, and flung Max’s door wide open. But I was on the ground in the hall as I heard yet another thud hit the floor, and that’s when I knew that he died too.
My chest was heaving, I couldn’t live with this.
But I stumbled back to my feet, ran the opposite way and down the stairs, cursing myself for forgetting my phone in all the madness. Someone needed to call campus security, someone had to before more people died.
I ran to a home phone on the first floor and picked it up… only to hear a dial tone on the other end. I tried punching in numbers, any numbers— nothing.
“Fuck.” I muttered, “Fuck.” I knew this looked bad. With blood on my face, two dead brothers upstairs. Oh my God I’m gonna go to jail, or worse.
I fled for the door and swung it open, ripped off my shirt and rubbed my face of the blood. My body was trembling but adrenaline kept me going, kept me moving through the streets as I ran all the way back to my dorm.
I don’t know if it was luck that no one saw me, or fate. But either way I locked my door and sunk to the floor, crying in my bloody shirt.
I am going to get him. I have to get him.
He can’t get away with this.
