Black Hill High

Epilogue

Weeks have passed since the identity of The Lurker had been revealed. The media flocked to the story of the century. The killer has been brought to justice. Greg Stanley and Lillian Eddison have become infamous for their sadistic mind games.

Amelia stands before her headstone with a sinister smirk on her face. Her plan had been perfectly executed. No one would ever suspect her. The case is officially closed.

She folds her arms across her chest as the fall breeze picks up pace. Church bells chime along with the breeze and she inhales the earthy air in delight. She gazes around the peaceful land as she thinks over the events of the past year. Flashback after flashback of her victims runs through her mind. How May used to brush past her in the hallways as if she were invisible. How the cheerleaders made it their mission to remind her daily how inferior she was to them.

She remembered how she envied May. How she wanted her life. She wanted what she had. The popular boyfriend. People that worshipped the ground she walked on. A mass of people vying for her recognition and attention. Amelia wanted nothing more than to be May Hart. Her wish has finally come true.

Rosemary was as guilty as May - always using her social media fame to torment the ones below her on the social hierarchy. She always behaved as if everyone was beneath her and she took sick delight in invoking fear in everyone. No secret was safe under her constant curiosity.

Abigail and Tiffany were May's puppets and cutting them loose was the best decision Amelia ever made. Getting rid of May only opened the floodgates for her loyal followers to carry on her tainted legacy. They allowed themselves to be infected by May's idiotic views. They were just as guilty as she was, and therefore, they needed to be punished.

"It's tragic, isn't it?" She questions out loud. "Being betrayed by the one person you thought you could trust the most?"

She chuckles.

"You were so naive, so gullible." She wickedly grins. "That's exactly why you were the perfect victim."

She runs her fingers along the edges of the headstone.

"I wish I had a definite reason for why I did this, but some of us are truly wicked." She states. "Some of us have no redeeming qualities."

She glances at her chalk-covered hand from the headstone. It reminded her of all the blood. The thought brought a sickening sense of pleasure.

She notices a few people in the distance mourning loved ones of their own. She reaches into her pocket for a handkerchief and dabs at her desert-dry eyes.

"I wish I could say I'm sorry, but I'm truly not." She glances over her shoulder as a mob of reporters enters with their vans.

This is the first public appearance Amelia has made since the incident. She scoffs at how they're practically like vultures, waiting to gnaw on the leftover carcass. To feed off the survivor. She glances at Lillian's headstone once more and wills the tears to fall until she's nothing but a sobbing mess. A fragile girl that had everything taken from her, but survived. The hero of the story. The wolf in sheep's clothing.

Her shoulder wrack from the superficial sadness as she approaches the mob. The flashing lights momentarily blind her before microphones are thrust in front of her face. A million voices speak to her at once. She glances into the cameras with doe-like eyes as her bottom lip quivers in false fear. A hand on her back captures her attention as Jake stands at her side offering her comfort. She smiles gratefully as she returns her attention to the camera.

"I know you all have a lot of questions." She confidently states. "I don't know what to tell you other than I'd been betrayed."

She takes a steady breath as if this has been weighing on her shoulders.