like father, like daughter

                                    

                                          
PLEASE NOTICE— CHAPTER NINETEEN.
Violet Otello is no stranger to blood and gore. She understands what it takes to kill another person— the stakes of it being you or them. 
The thing about serial killers, though, is they don't care. They will carve up another person without remorse. There will be no sleep lost or nightmares to endure. Frankly, several get off on the idea of carving up another person. 
Quinn and Anika are just two girls on a long list of murders. In a few years, people will forget about them. They'll be memorialized in some fucked up slasher film that does little to represent who the girls actually were.
The Stab franchise will never curate Quinn's trashy love for reality tv or the way she stays up all night to gossip. They will never depict Anika's blossoming soul and the way she draws the most intriguing pieces. They'll just be two pretty girls that don't make it to the end.
Yet, to their friends, they were family.
Quinn broke Violet out of her shell. Anika helped her bloom. And now, they are both gone.
Blood spatter still sparkles Violet's converse—remnants of Quinn's brutal death. The bottom of the heels squish with dried blood from where Anika's blood pooled beneath Violet's feet.
It took everything in Violet to not pull Anika into her arms and hug her like she once did to Wes. In the end, Anika had died alone. Her friends were littered feet away but when her neck cracked, no one was there to hold her hand.
As soon as Violet finished her statement, she took her place against the ambulance—her eyes in direct view of the body bag that encompassed Anika and the blood that wrecked the dumpster and ground.
It was a punishment— she deserved to stare at the place that her friend died because she was a coward and froze. She ran away. She didn't fight.
A chest crosses into Violet's eyesight, blocking her view from the crime scene. Chad gazes upon her, sympathy and understanding covering his face as he welcomes her feelings into his own.
"There is nothing you could have done to save her." Chad exhales, crossing closer to Violet until they're less than a foot apart. 
Violet deflates, a crease furrowing in her brows. "Maybe. Maybe not."
"Anika died trying to protect everyone else. All we can do now is make it worth it." Chad recognizes, a solemn ache in his throat. 
"I wish we didn't have to. She should still be here. Quinn should be here." Violet remarks, her voice growing in pain and desperation. "When is this ever going to end? How many of our friends have to die?"
Wes. Liv. Quinn. Anika. 
The haunted look accumulates in Violet's eyes once more, the one that littered her in the dark hours of the night when nightmares consumed her dreams.
"I don't know." Chad exhales, depleting as he falls into the space next to Violet. "This is so fucked up."
"Yeah." Violet agrees, blowing out a breath. "I overheard the detectives. They took our knives. There was no way we could have fought back, even if we wanted to."