Showing posts with label The Facebook Fifteen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Facebook Fifteen. Show all posts

Monday, January 19, 2015

Interview With "The Devil": The Devil At Play

The Devil at Play
Marcus Damanda

The Devil in Miss Drake's Class, 3



“Everyone loves the devil until they know him. Until they see him for what he really is.” 

Nobody ever did, even as the bodies started to pile up. 

But now, too late for it to matter, Audrey understands at last. The devil of Fairview has been courting her for days, and watching her for much longer than that. The murderer is her boyfriend—and he’s been killing on her behalf. 

His name is Jack Maddox, but everyone calls him Mad Jack. He’s planning a party, where everyone is invited, especially Audrey’s tormentors—especially the Facebook Fifteen. 

Audrey will have her revenge, whether she wants it or not. 

Because, in Miss Drake’s class, the devil will have his due.


14+ due to violence and adult situations

Buy Links:    Evernight Teen    Amazon

Excerpt:

As he cleaned the knife, she fought her way back to the surface. Eventually, she managed words. “I still don’t know which parts of this were real. Or if I’m completely crazy.”

“You’re not crazy, Audrey,” he reassured her. “You never were. No more than I was. And you’re not crazy now. Just the opposite, in fact.”

When she let the silence stretch again, making it meaningful, he continued.

“Your problem is the same as mine. You see things how they really are, and it makes you sad. Makes you angry. What happened here wasn’t a hallucination. What happened here was justice—for you.”

Polishing the blade, he glanced at her sidelong, expectantly.

He’s holding a knife, she said to herself. And spoke her mind anyway. “I’m nothing like you.”

He smiled. “You’re nicer than me, that’s for sure. No contest.”

“You’re… like the devil, Jack.” Please don’t kill me. You can read my thoughts, I know it now. You’ll know if I lie. I’m being honest with you. I want the truth.

“The devil?” Jack said, chuckling. “Not sure if I believe in ‘the devil.’ Never been to the other side, either way. But I know from pictures he has red skin, pointy tail, horns, carries a pitchfork… usually has pretty big eyebrows.”

Audrey put her hand over his wrists, stopped his polishing. “No, Jack,” she said. “The devil is far too smart to look like that. Everyone loves the devil, until they know him. Until they see him for what he really is.”

They regarded each other.

“Does this mean we can’t be friends?” he joked. “Bet you never thought you’d have first period English with the devil.”

“No,” she said. “I never did.”

“By your description,” Jack said, his smile fading. “The devil was in Miss Drake’s class. But it wasn’t me.”

“Jack,” Audrey said, giving up. “I want to go home. Can I go home, please?”

“Soon,” he said, tossing the knife in the sink, turning around, and leaning up against it. “You have to do something for me first. Don’t worry. I don’t think you’ll have a problem with it. I hope not, anyway.”

Audrey narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t afraid. After tonight, she didn’t know if she had any fear left in her. “What?” she asked.

“In order for you to understand the ‘what,’” he said. “You first have to understand who Ireally am. Completely—or at least as much as I understand, myself. Time is short, so pay attention.”

Audrey listened.

Interview With "The Devil" by Marcus Damanda

JACK’S SECOND INTERVIEW (now revealed as “Alastair Hutchinson”)

Character Interview with Alastair Hutchinson, Master of the 1,000 Ghosts—also known as “The Observer” from Devils in the Dark, A Devil in Daylight, and The Devil at Play. We’ve recently discovered that Alastair has been masquerading as teenager “Jack Maddox” at Battlefield Secondary School, though his reasons for doing so remain unclear. What we do know is that at least three Battlefield students, possibly four, have died—or been murdered—in the past three days, beginning with Gabriel Daniels on the day “Jack” and Audrey Bales began attending the school.

We are conducting this interview online. Alastair’s present location is unknown.

© You do realize we’ll be forwarding a transcript of this interview to the Fairview Police, Alastair. Full disclosure. You should be in custody, being questioned.

Alastair: No doubt. Listen, don’t worry about it. I’ll be in touch with them myself, soon enough. Time is short, though. Have at it.

© Why the secret identity? Why become “Jack Maddox”?

Alastair: Tell me you’ve never wanted a chance to do high school over again, if only for a few days. Anyway, I wanted to get to know Audrey Bales better. She needed a friend.

© Sources tell us she was doing remarkably well after being released from the hospital—making friends, blending in. What did she need you for?

Alastair: Conflict resolution.

© Is that a reference to the “Facebook Fifteen” who bullied her at her old school? Because, as of tonight, each one of them that transferred to Battlefield after their suspensions were served is either dead or missing, Alastair. Did you know?

Alastair: I certainly hope they’re dead. That was the idea, after all. I do try to be thorough.

© Are you admitting you killed them? As I said, Heather Roberts is still missing.

Alastair: That bitch is fish food. I expect they’ll find her, soon enough.

[As the interview continues, Bobby’s at work trying to wire the police and see if they can slip in and see this conversation right away. I can’t believe I’m getting a murder confession. Poor kids …]

© Does Audrey know what you’ve been doing?

Alastair: Audrey Bales is the best person I know. She’d never have anything to do with any of that. She doesn’t even want some petty little teenage version of payback. She just wants to be left alone. She’ll hate me pretty quick when she finds out—so sad. I really do care for her. So naïve. So easily damaged.

© Why are you doing this, then?

Alastair: You know, that’s ironic. Those were Audrey’s precise words when she entered the chat with the so-called “Facebook Fifteen.” I know what’s best for Audrey, even if she doesn’t. I know what’s best for everyone.

© You said time was short. What are you doing, Alastair?

Alastair: I’m arranging a party. My sendoff, you might say—and Audrey’s final liberation. All of the best people will be there.

© Really? Where is it?

Alastair: Nice try.

[Bobby has the police on the phone, but they’re complaining about some kind of encryption on Alastair’s end. They can’t cut through. Or even trace it back to its source.]

© Alastair—if you’re planning more violence, I have to ask you to please stop. This has gone far enough.

Alastair: Any of the Fifteen could have ended this three days ago. I made sure they knew how. I’m only waiting for one of them to “step up,” as the saying goes. This is their fault. And Maggie Lassiter’s. I am only a vessel.

[The police are asking us to keep him online as long as possible.]

© How old are you?

Alastair: That depends on if you count the time before I joined the host. I’ve been there for one hundred and three years. So, all told—one hundred eighteen. My, time does get away.

© Who’s coming to this “party” of yours?

Alastair: By now, I expect the police are putting every member of the Fifteen they can find into protective custody. You’d really be better off asking them. Each one they do not find, they’ll be at the party. Also, Maggie will be there. And Audrey, of course.

© You plan on killing her, don’t you?

Alastair: Audrey? Absolutely not. She deserves a life, if that’s what she truly wants.

© And Maggie?

Alastair: My plans regarding Miss Lassiter run far deeper than killing her. No, I do not intend to harm her, myself. As for the others …

© Alastair, they’re KIDS! Children!

Alastair: Yes. Yes, they are. And yes, I’ll most likely kill them. Please, stick to questions. Your statements of the obvious annoy me.

[Still no luck with the trace.]

© Was Miss Drake involved in any way? We’ve learned she taught a “Jack Maddox” five years ago, and that he died. Suicide.

Alastair: Intrepid, aren’t you? No, as to the current situation, Miss Drake is more fairly counted among those you erroneously label as “victims.”

© What’s that supposed to mean?

Alastair: The body count is not “four,” my friend. It’s actually six. I’ve been quite busy, you see.

© I’m not sure I even know what to say to you, Alastair …

Alastair: That’s fine. Listen, there’s actually a car pulling up. In this weather, it could only be assumed these are my guests.

© Alastair, wait.

Alastair: I’ve waited long enough. I’m afraid we’re done here. Please tell the police I’ll be in touch in an hour or three.

[End of Interview]

About the Author:
Marcus Damanda lives in Woodbridge, Virginia with his cat, Shazam. At various times throughout his life, he played bass guitar for the garage heavy metal band Mother’s Day, wrote for The Dale City Messenger, and published editorials in The Potomac News and The Freelance Star. Currently, while not plotting his next foray into fictitious suburban mayhem, he spoils his nieces and nephews and teaches middle school English.




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