Cravings (STYLE)

2 POV: Stan

I walk into class, letting my backpack slide from my shoulder and land on my desk with a thud.

The room so commonly silent, is filled with whispers and rumours, left and right.

"Hm?" I hum, turning my head to glance at the groups of people in my classroom.

Everyone who were all so lively and excited the day before, all look tense and on edge in current time.

I approach Craig and his gang, a confused expression on my face. "Guys, what happened?" I ask, stopping a few feet away from the circle of guys.

Craig dead-eyes me, flipping me off. Tolkien speaks up. "There was another." he says, his voice low in volume, and uneasy in a way.

For a few months now, people have been going missing during the night, typically young adults. They all turn up dead and bloody, with gashes on their necks. It brings up talk for younger people like my class, and a chance to exchange gossip. But this time feels different.

"Who was it?" I ask, tilting my head slightly. "Another adult?"

"No," Tolkien shakes his head, a guilty expression on his face. "Heidi."

"Oh."

That explains the negative mood amongst my classmates then. It was one of us, one of the people I see every day.

It could've been anyone. Even me.

"Yeah." Clyde chips in, his voice higher than Tolkiens. "Graveyard, too. God knows what she was doing in there."

"Was it last night?" I respond to his comment sympathetically. There were so many people close to Heidi. So many people having to suffer that loss.

"Mhm," a voice sounds from behind me. I turn around to be greeted by a head full of bouncy, blonde curls. "She was supposed to be sleeping round Cartman's house last night. Stupid bitch, I bet he killed her. Fat fucking tub of fucking mince meat." Bebe snaps, fists clenched tightly, her face full of anger and loss. "He probably enjoyed it too, sick bastard."

"Is Cartman in today? He wasn't at the bus stop." I wonder aloud.

Bebe lets out a forced giggle, "No. Took a day off for, quote unquote, grieving purposes. Bet he isn't even fucking sad, fat fucking hunk of-"

"-Bebe, calm d-d-down. I get she was your friend, b-b-but don't take it out on-on us." Jimmy interrupts, giving the blonde a moment to cool her temper.

"You're right, I'm sorry. She was my friend." Bebe says, fiddling with her blonde curls, twirling strands of hair around her slim fingers.

"Don't worry babe, I can take you shoe shopping if you'd like, to take your mind off of this." Clyde says eagerly, slightly too eagerly considering the circumstance.

Bebe's face lights up. "Oh, you'd do that!?" she exclaims, clapping her hands together for dramatic effect. "Thank you, Clyde!"

The two walk off together, deep in conversation about shoes. I return to my desk, sitting on the uncomfortable chair, and dragging my finger along the lines of the hardwood surface infront, tracing the grains as I listen to nearby conversation.

"It was Cartman, guaranteed!" a girl whispers to her friend, a sour look on her face.

"Maybe," the boy responds in a quiet tone. "But did you see the injury? It was a bite or something!"

Another girl includes herself in the conversation. "So a bear?"

"No, a vampire or something." he scoffs, rolling his eyes.