Caitlin ran out of the room in tears.

Katie chased up to her.

It was just barely 1 o’clock. School ends at 2:30. But as two dozen students ran through the quiet halls, no teacher or faculty member came to stop them. As Katie went after Caitlin, she came across the vice-principal of the school, who glanced at her as nothing happened.

Whatever Mr. Isaac did to them, it was highly effective.

“Caitlin, wait!” With one final leap, Katie grabbed onto her friend’s arm and forced her to come to a stop. She turned her around and faced her. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Caitlin suddenly snapped. Her pitch went all the way up. “Jessica died! Lucy died! We lost five people to a teacher who literally came back from the dead! Are you seriously asking me what’s wrong?”

Katie was slightly taken back. Through all the moments of triumph, she might have neglected what her friend was going through. Still, it was hardly justification for Caitlin to get angry at her.

“Why are getting mad at me then?”

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just under a lot of pressure.” Caitlin shook her head. “I’m going back home now. I need a good night of sleep. See you later.”

She turned and left.

Katie didn't chase after her. Instead, she stood there for a moment and wondered what she should do next. She finally decided to go home and ask her parents a few questions.

----------------------------------------

Katie’s parents, John and Isabella Lockwood, were the perfect parents. John was a lawyer and Isabella was a businesswoman. They were easily able to purchase a two story mansion, as well as afford Katie’s University tuition, wherever she wanted to go to for the future.

Ever since Katie could remember, the two were kind and patient to her. The few times that she was disciplined was because she really went out of line and deserved it. In a sense, she rejoiced those moments. Without them, she might have gone down the wrong path.

Before this day, Katie had nothing but gratitude to her parents. Sure, sometimes she would complain how cautious they are, but it was just some jokes.

But now, Katie suspected her parents might have hidden something from her. Whether it was Katie’s rapid healing or strange wiring in the brain, her parents might know something about it.

Katie opened the door with her own set of keys and walked into the house. She was slightly surprised to find her mother was home.

“Kat?” Isabella Lockwood turned and rose her eyebrows. “You’re back early.”

“Well, the school ended early today.”

“Oh.” The curse Isaac placed on the students was working. Isabella didn't even think about how that could’ve happened or bother to confirm Katie’s story. She just nodded and acted as if nothing happened.

Katie went to the kitchen and poured herself a cut of Coke before sitting down beside Isabella.

“Mom, I have something to talk to you.”

“Yes Kat?” The businesswoman immediately laid down what was on her desk and turned to her daughter. Making money was important, but not as important as listening to her own family.

“Ok. For the twenty fifth time, stop calling me Kat. My name is Katie, not Katness.“

Katie complained, but there was no annoyance in her voice, just happiness. Her parents enjoyed giving her nicknames. Her dad called her “Kate” while her mom called her “Kat”. They said it was a type of personal connection. Katie suspected it was just before they enjoyed seeing her aggravated, but she just went along with it.

“Sure. No problem, Kat.”

“Ok. Back to the point. There is something important I want to tell you.” Katie took a deep breath, as if she was going to say something serious, before taking a deep drink. Her mom smiled and waited as Katie finished and finally went to the point.

“I am feeling something off.” The daughter started. “I...I, how should I put this…”

“You kissed someone?”

“What?” Katie coughed. “Uh…no!”

“Is it that Kyle guy? Isn’t he open?”

“No. He’s Jessica’s…oh.” Katie caught herself as she realized something. “Mom, don’t you remember Jessica? Blonde. Tall. She came to our house last Halloween. She wore a hockey mask and pretended to be Jason. Remember?”

“Who’s that? I don’t remember her...”

“Ok. Nevermind.” The curse has erased everyone’s memories about the fatalities in the classroom, just like it did to Mr. Isaac. “My point is, how should I put this, a friend of mine got hurt today and I didn't feel anything. Even further, I felt satisfied.”

It was a toned-down version of what happened, but it got the point across.

“Oh…” Isabella frowned and looked at Katie in the eyes. “Tell me more about it.”

“Well, basically, a friend of mine fell down the stairs and broke her leg. She was crying and screaming in pain, and I was just sitting there, watching, and I think...I think I enjoyed it.”

Her mother was rightfully concerned.

“Are you close to her?”

“Very.”

“Then how did her suffering make you happy?”

“That’s the problem I’m trying to figure out!” Katie threw her hands out. “And I don’t think it’s just with others in pain.” She tapped her palm.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“What do you mean?”

Katie thought about it briefly and decided to skip the masochism part.

“Anyways, can you tell me more about when I was born?”

Isabella smiled a little nervously. “Where do you want to start?”

“Certainly not from the very first step.” Katie grinned. “When was I born?”

“June 4, 2002. 4:46.” The answer was quick.

“Where?”

“491 Everton Road. New York City.”

“Who was the doctor?”

“Dr. Barry Ford. I can remember him vividly in my mind.”

“Which room were you in?”

“Room 204B.”

“Anyone else in the room?”

“Two nurses. Rebecca and Catherine.”

“Hmmm.” Katie realized something was wrong. “I was born 17 years ago and you still remember the exact time and address of my birth? Not only so, you could remember every detail, including the room number? Did you keep it on a notebook somewhere and go over it every morning?”

“Of course not.” Isabella frowned. She realized the problem as well. “Maybe it’s just something that’s stuck in my head. You know how sometimes songs get stuck in your head?”

“Did you listen to that information for ten hours without break?” Katie shook her head. “Something is wrong.”

“Look, it’s no big deal. I just have an excellent memory.” Isabella reassured. “Now, anything else you want to talk to me about? I can talk to you about how I met your dad...”

“No. No thanks.” Katie shook her head. “I’ll just be going back to my room, right after I finish this drink.”

Something’s wrong with Isabella. She has been compromised. If she knew something, Katie wasn’t going to get it out of her.

Katie emptied this drink and grabbed onto her backpack, which she has previously set aside. As she walked into the kitchen to put that mug into the dishwasher, her eyes landed on the silverware on the side. She glanced around before grabbing onto three knives. One was larger than the other two. She stacked them into her backpack before making her way into her room upstairs.

She tossed her bag on the ground and laid back on her bed. It’s not like she had to do homework or anything. She closed her eyes for a minute before getting back up.

When the thrill of what happened in class disappeared, she was, once again, in desperate need to do something fun.

She started thinking. There was no doubt her fellow students would try to do something to get ready for tomorrow. Judging from what happened today, students were allowed to attack each other to get an edge in these games. She got the upper hand by sheer brutality and decisiveness, but that might not work well tomorrow.

This is America. There are guns everywhere. If some of the students, with the help of the curses, can buy or steal some firearms, then the situation would get really dire tomorrow.

Her body cheered at the thought of getting shot, but her logic didn't.

She stood up and went to her bag, where she produced a brown wallet. She reached inside and pulled out a debit card. She walked downstairs.

“Mom, I’m taking the car for a drive.”

“No problem!”

Again, the curse in action.

Katie walked to her red Sudan. Her parents gave it to her for her 17th birthday. She pulled the car door on the driver’s side open and stepped in.

Katie’s father loved talking about his cases on the dinner table. One of the people he defended was a black market dealer named Ben. Allegedly, Ben sold firearms to anyone who was willing to buy it. Although John himself said that Ben was actually responsible for all the accusations, he managed to clear all the charges.

This was not very professional of him, but it gave Katie some information she needed. From her father, Katie learned where Ben’s store was, and that was where she was going. She needed some firearms, and she was willing to pay for it.

Was a black market store the safest place for a seventeen year old teenage girl to go to? No. But it was the only way. Katie needed a gun by tomorrow. In New York City, it is illegal for anyone below the age of 21 to purchase or carry a firearm. Going to the black market was her only way.

The girl started to navigate through the less wealthy neighborhoods of the Bronx. Beggars and shady figures could be seen around every corner, but this only made Katie a little excited.

Finally, she stopped the car on the side of the road. She quietly placed the three kitchen knives into her clothing. The two smaller ones were put in her two pockets and the larger one was slid into her belt. She wasn’t stupid enough to not have any form of defense.

Locking the car door, she walked into a grim-looking store.

Two men were inside. One was behind a counter and looked like a cashier. The other man was talking to the cashier. Both of them were heavily built. Their pockets were full. They were likely packed.

“Ben?” Katie asked.

“Who’s asking?”

Katie bit her lips and did her best to get ahold of herself before completely and utterly failing in that field.

“Just say yes if it’s you. If I’m trying to shoot you or something I would have seen your picture.”

The two men burst out laughing. Katie sighed. She was getting further and further on the way of pissing people off. Finally, the cashier departed and the other man remained.

“You’re right. I’m Ben. What do you want from me?”

“I want to buy a handgun. I need it now.”

“You don’t look like you’re above 21.”

“And you don’t look like a law abiding citizen.” Katie sighed again. “Look, I know what you do. I’m not working with the police or something. I just need a firearm. I am willing to pay twice the market price for it.”

The black market dealer stared at Katie for a few seconds, wondering what he should do. If she’s an undercover police officer, then he’s screwed, but he knew very well it was impossible for the police to risk a young girl to get intel. Plus, he scanned her eyes for any sigh of secrets. All he could tell was the girl was extremely bored.

“What will you do with it? Shoot your school up?” Ben finally questioned. “Look, you have quite the guts to come in here like this, girl, and I like you for that, but if you do something with this gun and it is tracked back to me...I’m not going down for this.”

“Of course not. All you have to do is give me what I want and I’ll pay you by cash. If the police or someone come to ask, you can tell them I stole the gun.”

“Why should I take the risk?”

Katie shrugged. “For money?”

Ben finally nodded. “What do you want?”

“What do you suggest for a woman like me? You’re the expert in this.”

“Glock 43.” Ben produced a small black handgun. “It’s very easy to conceal, which I assume is a priority.”

“How’s its stopping power? Rounds in the chamber?”

“Six rounds in the magazines. Stopping power...not the best, but everything has its price. The recoil of this gun is decent.”

Katie finally went to the most important question.

“How much is it?”

“I’ll take $800. As for the rounds, $150 for every box of 1000 rounds.”

Katie took out a stash of cash. As a reward for her academic grades, her parents gave her money every year. These money were put into her bank account. By now, Katie has already had over $3,500 in her account. Before she came here, she took $1,000 out.

“I want a G43 and a box of rounds. How much does a magazin cost?”

“$15.”

“Then I’ll get 6 of them.”

Ben glanced at the money. “Just a quick question. What will you do if I say I would rather just take the money and keep the merchandise?”

Katie suddenly smiled widely.

“Then someone needs to call for an ambulance, and possibly the city morgue.”

Ben nodded slowly. At his stage, he no longer needed to spill blood for a thousand dollars. The girl looked weak, but there was something about her that made him chill to the bones.

“In that case, nice doing business with you.”