hungoverheadcrack. elaina&thekiller.

[[ retro gm ] angel lí ✨]

↳ ELAINA KEYFORD

Elaina comes to with a gasp.

Always dramatic, of course. The air tastes like... whiskey, no. That's just her teeth. Her mouth? Her mouth tastes like whiskey, the air tastes like grass, and that's because she's lying in the middle of the front lawn with nobody to be seen.

What's the time? Have they gone home already? Shit. She missed her own party. How embarrassing. Or maybe they all stood around her pathetic, drunk figure giggling on the ground and decided to ditch. Now that would be mortifying.

And who put her out here anyway? Elaina certainly wouldn't choose the front yard to take a nap, unless she had decided to collapse, damsel in distress style, for dramatic effect. If that were the case then it seems no white knight took it upon themselves to save her, and with a groan she staggers upward, pretending that the stars aren't twinkling down at her with pity, giggling across the eons at her pathetic little life.

"Guys?" she asks to the evening air, rubbing eyes with the backs of her hands - then stops, shit, her makeup. Elaina blinks down wearily at a black and gold smudge against her skin and sighs - the world wobbles a bit. She's still drunk, okay.

hic!

Okay.

Maybe Stella has a spare liner in her clutch?

"Hellloooooo?" she calls, one step, two step, up the front steps, through the front door.

"Anyone? I swear if you leave me... hic! to clean all of this up myself I'll call the Keepers and report you for... for..." alcohol slows her down, steps and speech.

"... for under-age drinking.... hic!"

[ coding by griffin ]

[[ retro gm ] angel lí ✨]

↳ ELAINA KEYFORD

She catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror on the living room wall and starts to laugh.

That silly, stupid laughter that comes when you're intoxicated, staring at the absolute state of yourself. Shit-eating grin, hair a mess, Elaina's reflection is the funniest thing in the world.

Until it isn't.

How quickly her mood flips from euphoric to furious. Elaina's not sure which version of herself best reflects who she is inside, not sure she ever will. Pretty girl, chosen daughter, delusional dumbass, no friends loser. She is all of these things. Confidence and self-loathing. All of it, all at once, forever fighting a war that no side can win right in the middle of her brain.

Her smile fades, replaced with a scowl, and she turns away from the mirror with a huff of air. Stumbling, she catches herself against the fireplace mantel and starts to laugh again - this time at a photograph of a younger version of herself sat between her Dads. Fairy wand clutched in her left hand, waving it wildly at whoever was behind the lens - it didn't matter, even back then, as long as the camera was pointed toward her. Glittery dress, a crown too big for her head, baby Laina beams like nothing in the world can stop her.

Tears swell, brick underneath her palms, Elaina blinks them away and then regrets it.

It's her party after all. She'll cry if she damn well wants to.

Instead she picks up the fire poker and channels that little girl, twirling around and around the living room with her magic wand in her hand. A little fairy dust and she is the most popular girl at school. A little positive energy and nobody leaves her to rot in the grass at her own party. A little delusion and they all want to be here for her, not for the free booze Elaina's older brother left in the garage and forgot about.

It's her party...

It's her party, damn it!

[ searches the living room ]


[ coding by griffin ]

[[ retro gm ] angel lí ✨]

↳ ELAINA KEYFORD

It occurs to Elaina after her fourteenth hiccup in a row that perhaps she needs some water.

That tends to be how her mind works in the few times she is drunk. She will slip through one good idea onto a better one, convincing herself it is absolutely paramount she complete said better idea. So off she took herself, suddenly pleased once more, to skip into the kitchen.

Her magic wand stays with her, swinging it around and around and around as she plucks an unused solo cup from the scattered few remaining on the bench, before deciding that filling it up was too hard and throwing it haphazardly over her shoulder with a squeal of delight.

"WAIT! I'm a genius! You guys," - except there is no-one there, delusional as per usual. If Elaina's classmates don't want to hang out with her in her own house, fine. She'll just pretend they do!

"- watch!"

She turns the tap on with one hand, flourishes the firepoker with another, and drinks a litre of water straight from the tap.

With a gargle and an exhale she finishes with a flourish and a bow, grinning something stupid.  For her next trick, she might juggle knives. Brilliant idea!

But it's on the come-up, clattering through the cutlery drawer like her life depends on it, that she hears it: the first signs of life beyond the kitchen. An unmistakable opening and closing of a door upstairs. 

"Hey!" she calls, abandoning the tap still running water as her feet thump up the carpeted stairs, magic poker wand still in hand, butter knife in the other. "Wait up you guys! We haven't played drunk charades yet and I always win!"

[ searches the kitchen ]

[ coding by griffin ]

[[ retro gm ] angel lí ✨]

↳ ELAINA KEYFORD

Wait, it's...

dark up here.

"Who turned off the lights?" Elaina asks to thin air, stumbling up the stairs, "helloooo? We playing 'Careers And Twelvies' or what?"

Ha. That'd be -
funny, she giggles again.

Childish games, she remembers hiding in the cupboard at her sister's birthday party - Twelvie, always picked as the Twelvie. Everyone got bored and time ticked on, distracted with cake and a sugar rush. Nobody realised she was missing, not even her own parents, curled arms around knobbly knees as she listened to the children singing birthday songs without her. De-ja-vu.

Not so funny.

Hic!

"Loser has to... do a shot... hic!"

Maybe she should lie down. Yeah. First bedroom to the left, no- this isn't her room, she laughs again. Rollercoaster, silly. Silly Elaina,

"Silly..."

She stumbles in the dark toward her own room...

[ searches the master ]

[ coding by griffin ]

[[ retro gm ] angel lí ✨]

↳ ELAINA KEYFORD

...and into the devil's arms.

(If a girl screams in her bedroom, but nobody is there to hear it - did she even scream at all?)

She screams like she was born to do so, a scream worthy of an audience. 

Too bad she is all alone.

[ coding by griffin ]

attacks the killer with firepoker,
vDlfEzz779blunt
block 1

blunt
miss 1 lmao

blunt·blunt

[[ retro gm ] angel lí ✨]

(If a girl goes in for the kill, but nobody is there to witness it - did she ever attempt to save herself at all?)

[ coding by griffin ]

attacks the killer with knife
OgdHzpaYDIknife

knife

knife·knife

[[ retro gm ] angel lí ✨]

(If a girl dies, but nobody is there to care...


















- did she ever  live at all?)

[cluekiller]

This is the part where I don't die.

Stories where the red-painted 'villains' win are dusty and outdated. Who wants to read a tale where the ending can be predicted down to the last detail? Where is the suspense, the element of surprise, the shock factor? I may not be writing a story, but everyone will damn well tell mine when I'm done here, and my tale does not end with a potted plant jammed into my skull.

I know when my ambition is too strong. The two fools run away, and I dare not pursue them where they can see me. When I am out of my element, I must be careful where I step. Losing is the worst feeling, and if I die right now, then I have lost. I am tired of fucking losing.

I slink into the house and hug the shadows as if they belong to me. It is quiet for awhile. I find myself enjoying the solitude. It is a chance to breathe and regain my composure before I run into the next drunken fool. Soon they will all be alerted of my presence, and that means one of two things: running or fighting. I expect the former, but the latter is something I need immense preparation for. Who knows what stupid shit they will try to throw at me next. I know it doesn't stop at a potted plant full of vomit. They are human. Selfish, ridiculous humans, but humans nonetheless. We all have that ambition in common - the ambition to stay alive, even if it means taking the most desperate measures.

I squeeze the knife in my hand. There should be more at my disposal, but I couldn't help but choose the weapon that will gain me access to their soul. I see it in their eyes every time I strike. What's the use in killing them from far away? I won't see the regret in their final moments. That defeats the purpose of everything.

In the end, I'm doing this for myself. I shouldn't pretend that I'm not.

So when Elaina stumbles in, screaming bloody murder at my tacky outfit, I smile. Because I know what happens next.

She is too drunk and stupid to know how to use a firepoker as a weapon. It whiffs past me and I back away. She looks pathetic and scared, but I will not be caught off guard. I could admire her bravery if I didn't despise her. She even has a knife. Someone here is more prepared than I am.

I whip the blade of my knife across her throat. In the dark, the streak of red blossoming around her necks looks black.

"You look pathetic."

I never planned out how I wanted to kill Elaina, but there was one detail I couldn't help but fawn over. As she struggles, I pull out a polaroid camera.

"Do you want to see how pathetic you look?"

A flash in the dark, and I have a precious photo of her dying form. I pull it out gently and hold it in front of her face. I point to her expression. "That's you. That's what you're going to look like when you die. Isn't that sad?"

I feel no sadness for her.