chapter 2

The Night of Prom

Sixteen-year-old bella had been nervous for days. She'd finally gathered the courage to ask her crush, Kelvin, to prom. To her surprise, he said yes with a charming smile that left her breathless.

That night, she wore a dress that made her feel powerful—sleek, bold, and beautiful. Her friends gasped in admiration when they saw her. "You look stunning," one of them whispered.

Bella smiled, scanning the room, her heart skipping a beat when she spotted Kelvin across the dance floor. She started walking toward him, but then stopped.

He was with his friends—laughing. She was about to wave when she heard her name.

"She's hot, I'll give her that," Kelvin said with a smirk. "But I'm only going with her to see how far she'll go. Prom night, right? Might as well get something out of it."

Her stomach dropped.

Bella face flushed—not with embarrassment, but with anger and disbelief. Her heart raced, the dress that once made her feel confident now felt like a costume for someone else's game.

She turned sharply, ignoring the burning in her chest, and walked away—tears threatening, but her head held high.

Bella sat alone outside the prom venue, the chill of the night wrapping around her bare shoulders like a warning. But she didn't feel cold. She felt alive—sharpened by betrayal.

Kelvin had humiliated her. Not to her face, no—that would have taken courage. Instead, he laughed with his friends about how easily he could get her into bed. As if her feelings were a game. As if she was just a trophy to show off before tossing aside.

He thinks I'm weak.

He has no idea who I really am.

Bella's expression hardened. That soft, innocent girl who nervously asked him to prom? She was gone.

She wasn't going to cry. She wasn't going to confront him in front of everyone like some drama queen. No—Bella would make sure he paid in silence.

She pulled out her phone, opened her notes app, and started typing.

Kelvin: Walks home Mondays, Wednesdays after 8:30

Always takes the back alley behind Harper Street

Parents leave town next weekend

Knife in his glovebox, not on him

She'd been underestimated her whole life. Called "pretty but fragile." Now she would use that—play along, smile sweetly, pretend she hadn't heard a thing.

And then she'd strike.

He wanted to use me?

Good. Let him think he won.

For now, Bella went back inside, her head high and her eyes scanning the crowd like a predator in a ballroom of prey. Kelvin met her gaze, flashing his charming, stupid grin.

She smiled back.

The countdown had begun.

Kelvin awoke in confusion, but it quickly turned to terror. The room was cold, silent, and unfamiliar. His arms were strapped to the arms of a metal chair, ankles bound tightly to the legs. A single light swung overhead.

And then he saw her—Bella. Still in her prom dress, no longer smiling. Her eyes were empty. Sharp. Unforgiving.

"W-what is this? Bella? What the hell—"

She didn't answer. She reached into his jacket pocket, took his phone, and powered it off. Location disabled. Contacts untouched. He was now invisible.

"You laughed at me," she said softly. "But I heard every word."

"Bella, please—"

But his plea was cut short as she gagged him. Then she turned to her table—neatly arranged tools, blades, and jars. She took a pocket knife and calmly walked back toward him.

"Let me show you how I deal with liars."

Without hesitation, she cut off his right ear.

The scream that followed echoed through the basement, but no one could hear. Bella had planned for that. The room was soundproof.

Kelvin writhed in the chair, soaked in sweat and blood, tears streaming from his eyes—until she took one of those eyes too, severing it clean and dropping it into a jar.

His vision blurred. His mind broke. But Bella wasn't finished.

With chilling precision, she plunged a knife into his chest and removed his heart. She didn't scream. She didn't cry. She worked with silence and skill, packing each piece—eye, ear, and heart—into separate jars.

She zipped his limp, mangled body into a black duffel bag.

Then she cleaned the room.

Spotless. As if he'd never existed.

---

The streets were empty as Bella drove through the night.

At the school, she parked two blocks away and walked the rest of the way with the bag slung over her shoulder. She didn't look around. She wasn't afraid. This was her masterpiece.

She arrived at the front gates of the school and began arranging the scene:

The heart, nailed dead centre to the gate like a warning beacon.

The eye, strung up with fishing wire, swinging gently in the wind.

The ear, pinned next to a handwritten note that read:

> _"You thought I was a toy.

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