k a r r i s

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I fell against the wall, my hand to my chest as I tried to catch my breath. I was no longer in the midst of those evil women, and instead I was inside a stairwell, several narrow steps leading upwards. Banging came from the other side of the door as several cackles followed. 

"Come out of there sweetie," a voice commanded.

"No! Go away!" I yelled, stepping away from the locked door. I looked before me, my eyes suddenly locking with the pair that belonged to my savior. 

My best friend Berkley stood in front of me with a smile plastered on her face. A grin formed on my own as well, as I leaped for joy. I grabbed my best friend and pulled her into a hug, trying to stifle our own girly giggles. 

"Dude, this is going so freaking awesome," Berkley commented at an excited whisper. 

"I know right," I agreed, "Ashton is an idiot. I can't believe he actually thought he was going to win at my own game." 

"Tell me about it. It was your brother who came up with this annual prank," Berkley chimed. More pounding continued. 

"Go away!" I screamed at the door before turning my attention back to Berkley. I nodded my head, "yea, and I was the one who helped my brother set it up in the past years. Like the Willowridge hockey team could actually pull off this prank without my brain working out all the kinks."

"Did you see the hockey team in their cult get-up?" Berkley chortled with a restrain to keep from being too loud. 

"It's absolutely horrible. My brother would not be impressed with their lack of attention to detail," I criticized with a head shake. "Luke looked the worse in his outfit. I could tell from a mile away that it was him. His quiff was showing through the wig." 

"Seriously… now it's time to turn the tables on those assholes," Berkley winked, smirking mischievously. 

"You ready for the prank of a century?" I questioned with a raised brow, already knowing how my number one sidekick was going to answer. 

"I'm so ready to see Irwin shit bricks," Berkley declared, and I couldn't help but to let out a laugh. I immediately threw my hands to my mouth, ceasing any more noise to come out of my mouth. Berkley and I high fived, and the moment we did, we heard more commotion on the other side of the door in addition to muffled voices. 

"Come on, let's hurry up. Phase one is done, time for the next step" I said, "You got the stuff?" 

"Yup," Berkley handed me a small backpack. I got a chance to look at her outfit and I smiled to see her body fitted in the same outfit as I, just like how we planned.

My adrenaline was pumping and I was filled with so much energy and so much rage. I was completely ready to beat Ashton at a game he thought he had the upper hand in. He was charming, pompous and arrogant, but it was that same arrogance that put him in my clutches. The Willowridge hockey team has been playing the same prank for years-- ever since my brother joined the brotherhood his freshman year. It was both my twin and I who devised the joke and even though my brother was no longer with us, I was flattered that the hockey team continued using our "welcome to the team" high-jinks.  

Berkley and I quickly ascended the stairs and once at the top we gave each other one last hug before separating into our respective spots. I hurriedly went over to the open-air window of the bell tower. The aged iron bell hung before me. I glance downward and I shuddered at how high I was standing. Several stories high, at the very top of the Mission, falling from this opening would result in absolute death. I felt the coastal breezes more prominately from this area, and as I let my eyes scan the horizon, I could see the San Diego skyscrapers from miles and miles away.

As I continued looking down, I saw Berkley at the very bottom, running into position. She looked directly up, catching glimpse of my figure. Using the flash from her phone, she shined it at my direction. I pulled my own phone from my pocket, and shined a smilar light towards her. Phase two has now commenced. I watched as Berkley put her phone away, pulling out a bottle from her jacket pocket. She dumped its contents onto the ground, creating a messy puddle at her feet.

Fake blood.

Berkley fell to her knees and planted herself face down into the dirt, half of her body in the puddle of pseudo blood. She sprawled her arms and legs in a jumbled mess, and not a moment to soon, she let her body go limp. It was time to play. I stood in the center of the bell tower, pulling out another bottle of fake blood from the small backpack and unclasped the lid. I began running around, banging on the walls, while splattering fake blood in the area. 

"Get away from me! Please! Don't take me away!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, trying to create a big enough commotion for Ashton and the rest of the hockey team to hear. I heard banging from the door at the bottom of the stairs, and I knew it was the team trying to barge in. I pulled out a pair of glasses from the bag, identical to the ones on my face and placed it on the floor by the window, dropping some blood on it.

"Don't take my soul! Don't take--" I let out a high-pitched shriek, letting it interrupt my own words. There was a clamorous thud that echoed in my ears and quickly, I ran through another door, hiding in the shadows. 

Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. It was like a stampede as the hockey team treaded up the stairs in a haste. 

"Karris!" 

"Are you okay? Karris! Answer us!" 

"Dude, what the hell? What if the real witches got her?" 

Grabbing the small camcorder from the bag, I turned it on and placed it by the crack of the door. I hit record just in time for the camera to capture Ashton and the other boys run up the last few steps. Screams escaped their mouths as they came face to face with the gruesome scene before them. I mentally gave myself a pat on the shoulder for a job well done. Costumes no longer adorned the team's bodies except for the makeup that still caked their face. But even through the gobs of theater makeup plastered around their eyes and cheeks, I could make out the intense fear casted on their faces.

Their heads turned frantically as they slowly observed the bloody scenery. I eyed Ashton who had an expression of utter guilt and I smiled in his expense. Karma's a witch.

"Karris," Ashton called out, barely audible but I could still hear my name escape his lips. I almost felt sorry for him as I witnessed the remorse dripping from his face. But then I remembered all the horrible torment he's put me through in the past few months and all sorry I felt quickly disappeared. 

"Holy ballsacks. What the hell man? She's hurt. Karris is hurt!" Luke panicked, as he paced around.

"Karris!" Calum yelled at the top of his lungs, hoping for an answer, but to his dismay he didn't get one. 

I tried so hard not to burst into fits of laughter, but I had to stay strong because this was only the start of a prank of the century. I stuck my hand back into the bag and pulled out a small box with two circular caps. I unscrewed both lids, dipping a finger into the small well filled with solution. I pulled out a bright red contact lens and took off my glasses. I stuck the demonic-esque lens into my right eye before proceeding to grab the other contact. 

"I knew this would be a bad idea. Karris is too fragile," Michael explained. I peered through the crack in the door to see the red-haired boy rubbing his face in pure worry. 

I pulled out the elastic from my hair and grabbed the bottle of extra-hold hair spray from the bag. I started to distribute the sticky mist onto my hair, scrunching up my long locks into a chaotic disarray. With more fake blood and a pad of white powder, I continued to quickly yet efficiently make myself look as maniacal as possible. 

It was almost showtime. The boys were on the edge of my palm, all they needed to do was discover my body at the bottom of the bell tower, and the hockey team would be prancing right where I wanted them to be.

It's going down. 

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Chapter Word Count: 1480