Chapter Text
~*~
04h : 45m : 14s
“Elizabeth!”
Betty Cooper had fallen asleep on her laptop. The sound of her mother’s voice pierced through the hazy fog she had fallen into, which wasn’t quite a dream. She was just floating around in a strange limbo between consciousness and sleep. She jumped up with a muffled yell, her hands automatically going to swipe strands of her blonde hair that had stuck to her face. Betty winced and wiped her eyes, her fingers trailing across her cheeks, feeling across the indentations her laptop keys had made into her skin. It took her awhile to grab a hold of herself.
Betty could vaguely remember writing an article into the early hours of the morning. It had just been for fun, though she regretted it now. “Mm?” She managed to mumble. She turned to where her mom stood in the doorway of her bedroom, holding a handful of laundry. She didn’t look impressed. Betty forced a smile and yawned, stretching. She had fallen asleep in yesterday’s clothes. She was still wearing her jeans and leggings from yesterday, which had been a slump day. Betty had spent the entire day watching cheesy movies, eating junk food and writing pointless articles for The Blue and Gold.
Betty noticed her phone, lying next to her laptop, was lit up with a bunch of notifications. When she squinted, she realized most of them were in capitals. She ignored it. Betty usually waited until at least 12 before she started engaging in virtual conversations.
“Morning mom.” She murmured. Though her mother only scoffed. Betty’s vision still wasn’t completely clear. She was blinking rapidly at her pastel pink walls and trying to figure out what planet she was on, when her mother cleared her throat.
“Don’t you have work?” She asked. Betty was used to her mother’s steely tone. Alice had one mood; Annoyed. It was evident on her face, on twisted lips and in her irritated eyes when Betty turned to frown back at her mother. “I don’t have work till tonight.” She said dismissively, fiddling with her hair, attempting to wrestle it into some kind of hairstyle that her mother would approve of. She definitely caught disgust on the woman’s face. Betty glanced in the dark screen of the laptop, which had timed out. She saw her reflection stare back, hollow and dead-inside.
She winced. “No, Elizabeth. You have work in half an hour.” Alice Cooper said, striding over to Betty’s bed and placing a neat pile of washed pastel clothing on the floral sheets. Betty felt the grogginess subside slightly. Now she was alert. “What?” But Betty didn’t need to ask questions. When she turned to her bedroom window, she noticed the sun was way too high in the sky for morning. The sky was a deep crystalline blue.
Betty felt her chest clench a little. She’d been hoping for snow, for a white Christmas. There were three days till the big day, and there was no sign of the white stuff. Plus, Lately it had been too hot for December. She’d drove past Cheryl Blossom sunbathing in her drive yesterday. The girl had been in a bikini. Riverdale’s weather was erratic. It could be pouring down with rain one morning, and then be boiling hot in the afternoon.
Betty frowned, and folded her arms. She had absolutely no idea what time it was. Her stomach churned a little. How long had she been asleep? “Elizabeth,” Her mother was happy to tell her. “It’s four in the afternoon. You start work in an hour,” Alice patted her absently on the shoulder, as if silently teasing her. But it wasn’t playful. It was harsh. She could hear her gritted teeth as Alice exited her bedroom. “Your uniform is on your bed.” The woman scoffed. “I expect you to fix your sleeping schedule.”
Betty stood still for a moment, trying to process the fact that she had practically slept the whole day away. She peered out of her window, kneeling on the window seat and pushing her curtains aside. There were kids playing on the street. Mr and Ms Klump were washing their car while their teenage daughter, Midge, sat cross legged on their lawn, her head in her phone. This was ridiculous, she thought, straightening up. How the hell had she slept for so long? Betty managed to snap herself out of it after a while, and wandered over to her phone, picking it up. Her eyes widened. She had eleven texts from Kevin, all from various times of the day. They started off normal, with emoji’s. Though with her lack of response, the texts progressively became more and more intense, until it was just a string of exclamation marks. Kevin Keller was her long-time childhood best friend and the only guy in her year brave enough to come out of the closest. They had managed to grab job’s at the local Domino’s together. Betty stared at the texts, scrolling through them with her thumb. The screen was hurting her eyes. She really needed coffee.
And food. Her stomach rumbled, as if it had heard the thought cross her mind. Betty was busy reading through the string of nonsensical texts, when another popped up. This time it was in lowercase, thank god. She didn’t think she could deal with angry Kevin. She had a five hour shift to get through, and Kevin was pretty much her anchor. The one person who kept her sane. The job wasn’t ideal, but the money was good. A small family that had moved a few years ago owned the restaurant.
Kevin: Betty? Are you alive? Do you still want picking up?
Betty typed out a reply, telling him yes she was dead, and yes she’d love a ride. Kevin’s reply was instant; a few dozen eye-roll emoji’s. She put her phone down before wandering over to her mirror and giving herself a once-over. There wasn't time for a shower, so a wash would have to do. She could apply makeup in the car, and as for her hair…. Betty grabbed a hairbrush and dragged it through her thick blonde hair and pulled it into her usual loose ponytail. Then she splashed her face with water, brushed her teeth, changed out of her clothes into her uniform; a faded red polo shirt with “Mario’s!” etched onto the breast. The shirt was uncomfortable and too big for her, but she flung it on anyway, stepping into clean leggings before placing the bright red hat to go with the uniform over her head.
By the time she had changed, it was twenty past four, and her phone was vibrating in her pocket. There was a loud beep! from outside.
Kevin. He was early. Betty grabbed her jacket and bag which were slung over her chair, before hurrying downstairs and grabbing an apple from the kitchen. She could hear her mother’s feverish typing coming from the living room. “Elizabeth, is that you?” She called, and Betty took a bite out of the apple, momentarily startled by how sour it was. “Yep!” she shouted back, her words muffled by the apple she was swirling around in her mouth. She swallowed, making a face, before chucking the fruit in the garbage. “Can you grab me some pancake mix on your way back?” Alice shouted, as she was running through the door, nearly slipping on the welcome mat. Betty ignored her, shutting the door behind her and rushing out into the surprisingly chilly evening. So maybe it wasn't as warm as she thought. The sky was darkening into a pretty purple color. Betty shivered and pulled her jacket tighter around her chest. She considered running back inside and grabbing a warmer jacket. But Kevin beeped his horn once again. “Finally!” The boy leaned out of his window with his usual grin. He was in his Mario’s Pizza cap too, his dark hair nestled underneath, a leather jacket over the obligatory red polo shirt. When Betty jumped into the car, she could smell peppermint.
“This will warm you up.” Kevin passed her a Starbucks cup, and Betty’s heart leapt. “Dude!” She grabbed it, wrapping her fingers around it for warmth. Kevin drained his own cup, flashing her a smirk. “I didn’t get you one if that’s what you think,” he laughed. “Some guy was handing them out for free. I figured you might want a caffeine boost since you’ve slept all day.” He winked at her.
Betty rolled her eyes as Kevin drove back through her neighborhood and onto the main road. She took a moment to marvel at the golden light the setting sun cast over Riverdale. People walked along the sidewalk wrapped up in hats and scarfs, their shadows long, stretching out across the tarmac. “How do you know I slept all day?” She frowned at the boy, who chuckled. “I figured their must have been a perfectly logical explanation for Betty Cooper ignoring me.” He shrugged. “Like writing random articles at 4am.”
Betty folded her arms across her chest. “You know, you’re really bad at discreetly insulting me, Kev.”
They stopped at traffic, and Kevin only smirked at her as he fiddled with the radio, surfing for a station. He didn’t say anything else. Though Betty figured he was more interested in finding Pandora. She nursed the hot drink between her legs, before taking a scorching sip. It tasted amazing. She made a noise at the back of her throat and Kevin shoved her playfully. “Get a room!” He teased, and she shoved him back. She’d never tasted anything like it. “Do Starbucks even do Peppermint tea?” She couldn’t help asking. She hadn’t seen any advertisements.
Kevin shrugged. “Maybe it’s a taster? See if their customers like it?” Betty nodded and delved deeper into the drink. It was rich, sweet and tangy all at the same time. It hit her tongue just right. Kevin eyed her. “You’re enjoying that way too much, Betty.”
She shoved him.
“Watch it! I’m the driver!”
Kevin sang along to every song that came on the radio, the entire car-ride. Betty joined in at first. But the closer they got to work, winding down the streets of Riverdale, with the sky turning a dark grey, she started to feel weird. Her stomach was twisting, as if she was anxious about something. But Betty loved work. She knew pretty much all her colleagues well, as well as regular customers. So why did she feel like that? When Kevin pulled up outside Mario’s, Betty felt like she about to faint. She put it down to not eating anything, and going straight for the caffeine. She jumped out of the car, Kevin in tow, and they made their way into the restaurant, quickly clocking in. Betty shoved her bag in her locker with her jacket, and pulled her apron on.
Mario’s was normally swarming with customers on a Friday, and that night was no exception. When Betty pushed through the restaurant to the back rooms, the place was packed. Which meant great money. Though she probably wouldn’t be finished until late. Betty let out a sigh as the aroma of spicy melted cheese and garlic filled her nostrils. Her stomach rumbled.
She really should have eaten. That peppermint tea wasn’t enough to sustain her until 11pm.
Brad, the assistant manager, was in the kitchen, when she walked in to check the home orders. “Cooper,” he looked up from decorating a pizza. The others were already in full swing, shoving pizza’s into the giant oven, flipping them over with a paddle and creating their famous mystery sauce in bubbling pots on every stove. “You’re on washing up duty.” Brad said, and Betty felt like questioning it. She was the delivery girl. Sometimes her duties differed. She normally helped with the pizza’s before she went out to deliver them. But apparently Brad had other idea’s. Betty bit back a groan and started the sink up, filling it up with boiling water. She noticed Kevin bounce in, and couldn’t help smiling to herself. “Keller! Get that grin off your face and start working!” Brad growled. Kevin didn’t stop smiling, but he did nod, and then rolled eyes at Betty. What’s his deal? He mouthed to her.
Betty shrugged. She was elbows deep in hot water, her stomach was twisting and turning like a manic fairground ride and she still couldn’t get rid of the feeling brewing in her gut. Brad was normally a nice guy. He was in his mid-twenties, built like a wrestler with muscles larger than Betty’s head, with short dark hair, and almost always had a grin on his face. Though when Betty risked glancing up from scrubbing her tenth plate, Brad had a face like thunder as he sprinkled cheese a bit too violently on fresh pizza bases. Betty watched him, fascinated. His lips were twisted into a snarl, his eyes blazing. When Betty caught Kevin’s eye, he looked like he was trying his best not to burst out laughing. She swore every vein in Brad’s face and bulging in his forehead, was about to pop.
“He’s pissed because Robert is making him work over-time on his girlfriend’s birthday,” Abigail, a first year college student and one of the girls Betty got along with, muttered, as she slid past, heaving a load of clean plates. Betty went back to washing up, and found herself caught up in her thoughts as she mindlessly scrubbed at plates and dishes. She thought about how damn hungry she was, fantasizing about scooping melted cheese from the pots Brad was making and stuffing her face with it. Hours went by, and Betty stayed in the exact same spot, washing dish after dish. Brad still hadn’t put her on delivery duty. Her arms were aching, she was sweating through her polo shirt and she was pretty sure she had mangled pepperoni stuck in her fingernails.
Betty was halfway through a dish covered in dark stains, when Abigail came up behind her. “Cooper, your phone’s ringing,” she murmured. “You should answer it before Brad finds out and smashes it against the wall.”
Betty frowned at the girl, before nodding and escaping into the staff room. She swore she had put it on silent. Betty pulled open her locker and grabbed her phone, which was lit up, vibrating itself into meltdown under her jacket. When she glanced at the screen, it read UNKNOWN. There was that twisty feeling in her gut again. Betty thumbed answer and held the phone to hear ear.
“Hello?” She said warily, keeping her voice low. She wiped her hands on her apron. “Who is this?”
The voice on the other end was a low growl she didn’t recognize. “Elizabeth Cooper,” They murmured, and she shivered. She could practically hear the grin in their voice. “I want you to listen to me very carefully, is that understood?
Betty scoffed. “You have the wrong number,” she said shakily. She was about to end the call when there was a burst of static, a laugh, which sent her stomach vaulting into her throat. “I wouldn’t recommend that,” they murmured teasingly, and then after a moment; “Would you like me to prove it?” Their voice got lower. “Prove that I’m staring right at you?”
Betty swallowed. Her mouth had gone dry, and her hands clutching the phone to her ear was clammy. She didn’t answer. But they spoke again; “There’s flour on your apron, Betty.” They murmured, and this time she spun around, still clinging onto the phone. Her vision was suddenly bleary with panicked tears as she blinked, trying to locate a figure in the dimly lit space. Though there was just the empty staff room around her. She was staring at coats and jackets slung over chairs. Her stomach did a cartwheel. “Oh, and there’s just a spot of tomato sauce on your cheek.” They murmured. “You might wanna wipe that off.”
Betty felt her hand slowly going to her cheek, tenderly stroking it and and looking back down at her fingers, smeared with scarlet sauce. Betty held her breath, her heart was in her throat. “What do you want?” She managed, through gritted teeth.
“That’s right,” The voice murmured excitedly. “Now you’re playing the game. Okay, Betty. First thing’s first. I just want to let you know that if you scream or cry out for help, I will make you kill your pizza buddies. Is that clear?”
Betty was shaking. The question how was already on her lips. But before she could choke out the words, she was suddenly stumbling forwards, as if her body suddenly had a mind of its own. “See, Betty,” they murmured, as she turned around, her limbs being puppeteered by an unknown force. She was only able to cry out, as her legs walked on their own, stumbling and tripping as she tried to fight back. She found herself suddenly standing in front the stack of carving knives in the corner. The ones they kept out of the way to avoid accidents. Betty was gasping for her breath, her lungs were on fire. “How…” she hissed out, as she reached out and grabbed one, squeezing her knuckles around the wooden handle. “How are you doing this?” She squeaked.
“Don’t bother asking how I’m doing it.” The voice growled. “You see this knife, Betty? I can make you go full Kill Bill and slaughter every single person in this restaurant,” he paused. “Unless you do exactly what I say. Think of it like Simon says.”
Betty was trembling. “What do you want me to do?” She whimpered.
The voice chuckled. “That’s what I’m talking about!” Betty felt faint. Abigail, Brad and Kevin were definitely at shouting distance. But something held her back. What the voice had done to her, how he had made her reach for the knife and slide her fingers over the slick blade. Her mind was an array with thoughts, a cyclone of confusion buzzing through her skull. “Now, Betty, there is a small package just outside the side door.” The voice said. “Simon says go outside and pick it up.” When she didn’t move, too petrified with fright, the voice sighed. More static buzzing in her ear. “If you fail to comply, Betty, I’ll carve up your mom and sister.”
No. Betty felt the word shape in her throat, but she couldn’t cry out or scream. Her jaw was clenched. “Tick tock.” The voice murmured, slithering into her ear. The voice sounded young, at least her age. Why was he doing this to her?
Before she could hesitate or cry out for help, Betty was rushing out of the side door that stood ajar, straight into the wintery breeze that automatically stole her breath away. She wrapped one arm around her chest, the other holding the phone to her ear as she scanned behind dumpsters and old abandoned boxes. “I- I can’t find it,” she whimpered, shivering in the cold. Betty blew stands of her hair away from her face as it danced in front of her. There was no reply. She let out a hiss of frustration, digging around in old moldy boxes, until she spotted it, neatly sandwiched between the dumpsters shoved against the cold brick walls. It was a brand new pizza box. Mario’s. Betty grabbed it. “I’ve got it.” she whispered. The voice was once again a stutter of static as they laughed.
“And the second package.” They said. But Betty was already seeing it. Confusion clouded her mind as she grabbed the crate of milkshakes. They looked freshly made. There were three of them. One was chocolate, the other two vanilla. They were topped with fresh whipped cream and a cherry. A thought struck her. They had been taken from Pops. The milkshakes were in to-go cartons.
“Now open the pizza box.” The voice murmured. Betty silently obeyed, and placed the crate of milkshakes on the ground, before slowly lifting the cardboard lid of the pizza. Betty stared at the contents. There was no pizza, of course there wasn’t. But there was a handgun. Her heart clenched. “Pick it up.” The voice ordered, and before she could jump away, or refuse, her limbs were once again on autopilot. Betty picked the gun up, and she watched in stupefied horror as her hands were gently guided so they held the gun properly. Her index lay on the trigger. “Now, Betty. Here comes the hard part.” The voice murmured through the phone. “I’d like you to make a delivery. Just a small one. Then I’ll let you go, no questions asked. I’ll even let your mind go.”
The voice’s words hurt her brain. “What do you mean ”let my mind go“?” she whispered. This couldn't be real. Surely she was dreaming. Except when she tried to blink herself awake. nothing happened. Her perception didn’t blur. What was happening was real. There was a pause before the voice spoke again; “Did You enjoy that peppermint tea, Betty?” She could hear the smirk in their tone. “It was my creation after all.”
Betty felt her blood run cold, striking ice through her veins. “What- what did you do to me?”
“All in good time, Elizabeth. Now I need that package delivering.” He giggled. “How about we continue our little game of Simon Says? ” He murmured. “Simon says...." He paused for effect. "Get into Kevin Keller’s car.”
Betty dug her nails into her palms. The urge to scream for help was overwhelming. “And if I don’t?”
The voice sniggered. “You know the score, Elizabeth. I just want you to make a delivery, and then a small deposit.” Betty shivered at his words. Was he talking about drugs? Money? She let out a shaky sigh and balanced the crate of milkshakes on top of the pizza box and darted out of the alleyway. Mario’s was inches away. She could easily run in and cry out. But she felt strange- like she didn’t have complete control over herself. Before she could question her actions, Betty jumped into Kevin’s car and started it up, dumping the packages in the passenger seat. She gripped the steering wheel, one hand on the steering wheel, her phone still pressed to her ear. “Good girl.” The voice murmured. “Now Betty, I believe Keller has a pair of headphones in his glove department. You don’t want to crash do you?” Betty understood, and rummaged for the headphones, quickly plugging them into her phone and corking her headphones in. The voice tittered deep in her ears and she flinched. “Do I feel closer, Betty? Can you feel me breathing down your neck?”
Her stomach twisted with nausea. Where the hell was he taking her?
Betty didn’t reply. “Directions,” she spat, managing to career through traffic, despite her entire body palpitating. "I- I need to know where I'm going." Her hands were sweaty, clenched tightly around the wheel. “Take a left when you reach the end of the street,” The voice said. “Turn the radio on, Elizabeth. Why not play some Christmas songs?” Before she could react, she was already reaching out one hand to mess with Kevin’s stereo. Her fingers twined the dial, until settling on a crackling station. She could vaguely hear Do They Know It’s Christmas playing. Betty followed the voices instructions, and took a left. The sky was pitch black now, and that unsettled her even more. “Why are you doing this?” She managed to whisper. “Why- pizza and milkshakes? Where are you taking me?"
“You’ll see.” The voice replied. After a while of turning around bends, meandering down Riverdale's twisty roads, The voice spoke up again. “Okay, Betty. It’s just down the road.” Betty nodded stiffly. She scanned the neighborhood the voice lead her down. There were huge expensive houses towering over her. It was the richest estate in Riverdale. “Here?” She managed to say, when the voice told her to park at the end. Betty peered out of the window. There was a large luxurious house standing in front of her. It looked more like a mansion. The yard was trimmed and perfect. “Get out of the car.” The voice murmured, and Betty did. She grabbed the pizza box and the milkshakes, holding them to her chest. “Who are these people?" She couldn’t help asking shakily, as she made her way up the concrete steps to the door. She spied a large swimming pool at the back.
The voice hummed. “It’s a surprise.” They said gleefully. “Trust me, Elizabeth, I'm sure you'll know them.” Betty couldn’t understand their words. How could she know them? She obediently walked over to the huge mahogany door. Her legs were shaking, ready to cave. But something inside her- was forcing them to walk. The Peppermint tea. “You drugged me,” she whimpered. “How can you possibly be making me do this?”
“We're still playing Simon Says," They growled. 'Now knock on the fucking door, before I lose my patience." Betty reached out, her stomach clenching and made a fist, knocking four times. She took a deep breath. Whoever was going to answer, she was dragging them into this. Betty held her breath when the door opened, and she stood there for a moment, staring at the ground. She was grasping the pizza box like her life depended on it, the milkshakes balanced strategically on top. “Uh, hello?” The boy’s voice startled her, and she whipped her head up. The voice laughed loudly in her ear, and she winced. “Don’t get flustered, Betty.” He murmured. Betty stared at the boy who had opened the door, and for a second, her mind couldn’t register what she was seeing. The kid was her age. But she quickly looked past that, as she realized who it was.
The kid was tall with golden skin and scruffy black hair falling in bright green eyes. Polly had his picture all of her walls. He wore a white t shirt and jeans and was smiling quizzically at her.
Jughead Jones. The son of FP Jones, one of the most famous scientists in the world. When Betty was in middle school he had came out to the world with his own version of nanotechnology. He promised for a brighter future. His son, sixteen year old Jughead Jones, who was standing inches away from her, was a male model, and in almost all of the teen magazines. It was impossible to ignore his face. Yet here he was, a pawn in this sick person’s game. Jughead Fucking Jones. The boy who had presented the Teen Choice Awards and made Polly nearly faint when he winked at the camera. Betty managed to snap out of it and realized Jughead was smiling at her, his eyebrows raised. He held his finger up at her. "Hold on," He grinned at her, before twisting around and yelling; “Did you guys order pizza?”
There was no answer, and Jughead rolled his eyes at her. "Typical." He smirked.
Betty couldn’t speak. The voice tittered. “That’s right, Elizabeth. You’re playing the starstruck fan-girl perfectly.”
“Sorry, I don’t think we ordered pizza,” Jughead eventually said, his lips curling into a small smile. His eyes zeroed in on the milkshakes. “Or shakes.” Jughead smiled brightly at her, and Betty felt her entire body burst into flames. “Are you okay?” He asked, after a moment. Betty realized she was holding the pizza box a bit too tightly, and Jughead had noticed. She opened her mouth to answer, but the voice was in her ear, and his words sent ice sliding down her spine. “Open the pizza box, Elizabeth.”
Jughead folded his arms when Betty didn’t move. She couldn’t help noticing there was that loose curl dangling in his eye, that Polly went crazy over. She would pause commercials he was in, just to get a good look at that loose strand of hair. Betty stared at it, still paralyzed. Jughead chuckled and looked like he might say something, but he was interrupted by a male voice. “Is that pizza?” He sounded excited, and when another boy bounded over, with a girl practically wrapped around him, Betty’s heart dropped. Archie Andrews and Veronica Lodge. It was funny. They didn't look as glitzy as they did on TV. They looked like normal kids. Though these kids were celebrities. The children of renowned scientists, and the three of them were standing directly in front of her. Archie Andrews, the son of Fred Andrews. His rich red hair was tousled over his eyes, freckles dotting his cheeks. He was smiling uncertainly at her. Veronica Lodge, a young Victoria’s Secret model, and the daughter of the Hiram Lodge had her arm flung over Archie’s shoulder. She was beautiful. Betty remembered when she was younger, her thirteen year old self had been envious of the girl’s golden skin. Veronica perfect sleek hair was pulled in a ponytail and she wore a low gut glittery dress. The three of them looked ready to go out clubbing.
“What’s going on?” Archie murmured, his brown eyes set on Betty. “Jug, I told you we were having dinner at that fancy place.”
Jughead shrugged. He didn’t look away from Betty, his eyes were shining. “I didn’t order. She just turned up.”
“Okay, Betty,” The voice startled her. It was a vicious hiss. She bit into her lower lip, forcing herself to stay still. “These kids are important to me. I need them in one piece. So I want you to show them the gun and then put me on speaker.”
No. She didn’t want to. She couldn’t! But as soon as the words flittered through her mind, she was opening the pizza box mechanically, and exposing the gun. The three of them didn’t react at first. Veronica was asking if she wanted an autograph, Archie looked bored, and Jughead was still smiling at her expectantly. Betty grabbed the gun, and let the empty pizza box fall to the floor, before her hands were once again in a world of their own, as she pointed the weapon directly at Archie, Veronica and Jughead.
The three of them stumbled back in sync, their expressions twisting with confusion and fear. Betty’s hand was trembling as she unplugged the earphones, and the voice was streaming out of the speaker. The three teens didn’t move as they clutched on to each other. Jughead seemed to get over his initial shock before he glared at Betty, choking out a laugh.
“Blondie, do you know who we are?” He hissed, his expression had twisted from friendly amusement to anger in a matter of seconds. He stood in front of Archie and Veronica, as if a shield of protection. The three of them were well known for being incredibly close, what with their parents being partners. They were always spotted together by the paparazzi, stumbling around in the early hours of the morning, their arms slung over each other. She remembered Kevin saying ‘The Golden Three’ was trending a few months ago, a name their fans had pegged them. Betty used to think the ‘friendship’ was for publicity. She’d scoff when Polly insisted they were in a Polyamory relationship. “Pol, I bet they hate each other in real life.” She’d rolled her eyes at her sister.
She was wrong. Oh, how incredibly wrong she was.
Betty didn’t reply, but the voice did.
“Greetings, kids!” Jughead’s eyes widened, and Archie let out a hiss, staggering into Veronica, who grabbed his hand. Betty’s mind started spinning. Did they know the voice?
None of them spoke, only stared fearfully at the phone. They were frozen. “I hope you don’t mind, I sent my good friend Betty to deliver some gifts. Courtesy of me of course.” The voice murmured, and Jughead’s eyes narrowed. “Pizza and milkshakes?” He spat. “What the hell is this?!”
“Drink up.” The voice ordered. When neither of them nor Betty moved, the voice sighed. “If you don’t drink those milkshakes, Elizabeth here will shoot you.” Their voice was so abrupt, so steely. “So I recommend that you do exactly as I say.”
Veronica pulled a face. “There’s no way I’m drinking that trash.” She snarled. Betty flinched when her arm raised on its own, her pinky dangerously close to the trigger. Please don’t. She mentally whimpered. Please.
“Drink up.” The voice repeated. Betty stared at Jughead, mentally willing him to refuse. But his face fell, and the resistance drained from his expression. He reached forward and grabbed the chocolate one, before taking a sip. Betty hissed out in fear when she found herself pressing pressure on the trigger. Archie and Veronica followed suite, grabbing a milkshake each and drinking them. Betty watched them, ready for the three of them to slide to the floor, unconscious or dead. She was almost sure there was either poison or rohypnol in the creamy drinks. But that didn’t happen. The three of them stayed on their feet and frowned at her, as if expecting the same thing. They dropped their empty cups on the ground, and Betty frowned at the sudden movement. It looked like it was in sync. Jughead gritted his teeth. “It was nice,” he murmured. “Could have done with more cream.” He turned his glare to Betty, and then the phone in her shaking hands. “Are we done here?” He hissed. Betty couldn’t help noticing there was a smear of whipped cream on his top lip. She suddenly had an overwhelming urge to reach out and swipe it away.
“Not even close, Mr Jones.” The voice replied, and Jughead clenched his jaw. Then, to Betty, the voice was soft. “Elizabeth, tell them to get in the boot of your car. All you need to do now is deposit them at a rendezvous point, and you’re free to go.”
"You asshole." Archie growled, his lip curling. "You do realize who you're messing with right?"
The voice paused. "I do, Mr Andrews."
Betty found her voice. “But-” she managed to choke out. The gun felt so right in her hand. The voice cackled. “No butts Miss Cooper. I have wonderful plan’s for these kids. Bring them to me and I will be true to my word. I have nothing against you.”
Betty lifted her gaze, and found herself staring at Jughead’s expression, twisted with disgust. His eyes, no matter how hard he tried to put a front up and act brave, were wide with terror. She managed to swallow. “I’m sorry.” She whispered, and then cocked the gun, pointing it at all three of them. “Get- get in the car.” She managed to say. Jughead folded his arms, his green eyes blazing. Though to Betty’s surprise, and even his, he started forward. The others followed. Betty’s heart sank. The milkshakes. The Peppermint tea. They had been drugged with whatever mind controlling drugs she was under. It wasn't hard to get them out of the house. They simply followed her, letting out hisses of frustration, Veronica yelping with fear. When they reached Kevin’s car, Betty opened the boot. “Get in.” She said, her voice a lot colder than she wanted it to be. She noticed then, that the three of them were barefoot. Veronica, after hesitating, threw herself forwards, as the voice forced her limbs into submission. Archie climbed in without complaint and from the look in his wide brown eyes, it looked like the voice had somehow been able to seal his lips.
Jughead didn’t get in. He turned to her, his eyes set in desperation. “You don’t have to do this.” He whispered. Betty’s chest squeezed. She wanted to let go of the gun so badly, but it was stuck to her, as if part of her. Her mind was in the voice’s clutches and it could make her do anything. If it could make her wield a gun like a pro and force three kids into the boot of her car, it could make her hurt her family. Her mom and Polly. Betty swallowed a sob and shook her head. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” She said softly. Jughead looked like he might want to reply, or yell at her. Maybe even attack her. But he only collapsed into the boot, as the voice had seized control of his entire body. After a moment's hesitation, she helped him inside properly, and his body was like dead weight. Jughead made a whimpering noise, as if he despised her touching him. She did her best to ignore it and lifted his legs in before shutting the boot, and leaning against it breathing hard. “Please,” she whispered into her phone as she climbed into the car and grasped the steering wheel as if it was her anchor, stopping her from having a mental breakdown. “Don’t hurt them.” She said. Her voice was surprisingly cold. The voice let out a laugh. “Elizabeth, you barely know them! They’re just spoiled, entitled brats. Do you honestly think they would do the same for you, sweetheart?”
Betty blinked back tears. “What are you going to do to them?” She choked. She couldn’t seem to get Jughead Jones’ expression out of her head. How scared and helpless he had looked. “Their parents-” She managed to say, her voice teetering on the edge of hysteria as the voice once again lead her down street after street. “They’ll find you. They’ll-” She trailed off when the voice started to laugh again. She was almost positive that the kids knew the voice personally.
Riverdale seemed to blissfully ignore her as the streets crowded with college students, eagerly slipping into club’s, laughing and shoving each other. Nobody knew her dirty secret. That she had kidnapped The Golden Three. Betty forced herself to keep calm as the voice lead her to the other side of the Riverdale, and when she was sure the voice was going to make her continue driving out of Riverdale towards an uncertain destination, her phone crackled with static. “Stop here.” They murmured. Betty stopped the car and twisted around, looking for a man in a mask. But she was in the middle of nowhere, teetering next to Fox forest. There was a loud bang from the boot, and Betty flinched. Though the voice chuckled, as if reading her mind, as if knowing what she was thinking. “Their minds are mine, they won’t try and escape.”
His words made her feel sick. “Get out of the car, Betty.” They ordered, and she was jumping out, stumbling over her feet on the rough tarmac. She stood shivering in her work t-shirt, feeling pathetic. Helpless. "Oh, and get rid of the gun.” The voice ordered. She was throwing it as far as she could, before they had even finished. Though of course she hadn’t done that. Her mind was still in their clutches.
After a moment, the voice spoke again, and it sounded like a goodbye. “Thank you, Elizabeth.” It sounded genuine. Like they were genuinely happy. Betty only stared into the dark, and winced when something icy fluttered on her face when she tipped her head back. Her chest swelled. White flakes danced in the air, falling slowly, landing on face. Snow. She had wished for a White Christmas. Her stupid prayers had finally been answered. She couldn’t help watching it, fascinated by each flake.
The voice chuckled. “Oh would you look at that, It’s snowing. How pretty.”
The voice didn’t waste any time. “Okay, Betty. Just stick two fingers down your throat, bring up that coffee, and you’ll be right as rain.” He murmured. Betty frowned. “What?” She knew then, that she didn’t want to leave. She- she couldn’t leave. Betty followed his instructions and bent over, sliding her fingers down her throat until her stomach convulsed, the coffee splashing back onto the concrete. She stared at it, disgusted. It hadn’t even been digested. Betty stood up and swiped her mouth, shaking,
“The drink was laced with an invention of mine. Just a simple subliminal suggestion chip. It won’t affect you long term, don’t worry. Now, you should hurry home before your parents start to worry about you.”
Subliminal suggestion?! Betty felt like laughing. “You mean- you mean mind control?
“If you’d like.” The voice murmured. “Now, like I said, little girl. Hurry on home. Merry Christmas."
Betty stood frozen. “Where are you?” She whispered. Betty twisted around, scanning her surroundings. There was just trees. The snow was getting heavier, covering her in a dusting. But she barely noticed. “Tell me,” she murmured softly, narrowing her eyes into the dark. “How many fingers am I holding up?” She raised her free hand and held up four fingers. The voice didn’t reply, and then she knew it. Ever since the house, since taking Jughead, Veronica and Archie, the voice hadn’t been watching her. Her mind clouded with confusion. How did he know where she was driving? Betty cleared her throat. “I’m- I’m going.” She said softly, keeping her voice steady. Before she dropped her phone, and crushed it with the heel of her shoe. Then before she could turn and run, abandoning the kids, she rushed over to the car-boot and yanked it open, peering inside. The three of them were huddled together staring up at her, eyes wide and unfocused. For one crazy second, Betty wondered how much money the press would offer for this kind of picture. The Golden Three, disheveled and lying on top of each other, hair mussed and expression's dazed, confused and very, very drugged.
Jughead frowned at her. He seemed to be the most alert. “Blondie, get us out!” He moaned. “I can’t- I can’t move!”
Betty still didn’t understand how the mind-control thing worked. Until experiencing it for herself, it had been a fictional myth. She’d read about MKULTRA. She considered telling Jughead her actual name. Though maybe it wasn’t the best time.
Betty bit her lip. She hated small spaces. The boot looked tiny, and she was sure she’d have a panic attack within one second of being in there. But she could save them. Except the only way was to join them, was to throw herself into danger and risk having the same fate as Jughead, Archie and Veronica. Her mind was racing. The others were still under their control. If she tried to save them, who knew what the voice would make them do.
How could he know what they were doing if he couldn’t see them?!
“What are you doing?!” Veronica gasped out, when Betty moved forward, lifting her foot on the edge of the boot. The three of them were immobile, tangled around each other. But Betty was already throwing herself inside, before shutting slamming it shut from the inside. She found herself lying on Archie’s stomach, her legs sticking into Jughead’s face. while she kicked and squirmed her limbs. She managed to squish between Archie and Jughead, who let out a shaky breath. “Are you crazy?!” He hissed. She felt his breath on her neck. Betty considered that. Possibly. She had just kidnapped herself to - to what? Why was she staying with them? Though she already knew. Was it that they were The Golden Three? The most famous kids in the world? And the reason was lying underneath her, body stuck in the voice’s grasp. ”What the hell are you doing?!“ Veronica hissed, again. ”Do you want the psycho to take you too?!“
Betty was about to reply, but the sound of engines sent her on edge. She stiffened against the others and buried her head down, trying to curl into herself. “She’s gonna get herself killed!” Veronica hissed, and Betty tried to ignore the girl. For celebrity kids, they seemed like they knew the psycho who was doing this. She wondered if they knew about the drug, about the mind control. “Listen to me,” Jughead growled. He was struggling to move, but obviously he couldn’t. “You need to get out of here, okay? Just run for it!"
Archie made some muffling noises that might have been English. But he was definitely agreeing with Jughead. Betty wondered how exactly The Voice had managed to jam his mouth. She didn’t move, refusing to answer him. Because deep. deep down, she wanted nothing more than to vault out of the boot and do exactly what he had said. Run for her life. The engines got louder and closer, and Betty tried to stay calm. The others stayed silent, and for a second, she took a moment to survey what was happening to her. She was curled up in the boot of Kevin Keller’s car (which she had stolen) with Jughead Jones, Archie Andrews and Veronica Lodge. The golden Three. Who were drugged on hypnotic milkshakes that had reduced them to helpless statues. If she lived to tell the tale, Polly would have heart failure.
There was a metallic slam and Betty felt her body jolt. She was pressed uncomfortably against Archie and Jughead, who didn’t react. She only heard their shaky breaths when the sound of footsteps filled the silence. Betty could feel her heart slamming into her chest. The footsteps grew closer, and then the boot was being opened up again. Betty felt ridiculous, though when she managed to twist around, she found herself staring at a man with a hood over his face. She couldn’t see his expression, though she knew he was grinning. “I knew you wouldn’t run.” He chuckled. Betty thought about diving forwards, but there were others with him. At least five shadowy figures surrounded the car. Betty stared at the kidnapper, and it struck her like a lightening bolt when she tried to speak, but her lips wouldn’t move. There were words struggling to escape. Yet like Archie’s, her mouth was sealed.
She hadn’t gotten rid of the chip in her system. He still had control over her. The man shook his head. “It’s much more fun to play around with you, Betty Cooper.” He murmured. Betty could only stare dumbly, before she felt her body simply sag backwards. She couldn’t move. Her head hit something soft and pointy. Veronica’s immobile legs. “Sleep tight, kids.” The man murmured, before slamming the car boot on all four of them, and Betty was left paralyzed, unable to make noise. She felt tears slide down her cheeks when the car started up, and shot forwards, and her body was jerked into the others. For a moment, there was silence as Betty tried really hard not to cry in front of The Golden Three. Though right now, she didn’t see them as celebrities. They were just three scared teens. She squeezed her eyes shut. It was so closed in, so small. Don’t lose it. She told herself. Stay calm.
“So, Betty is it?” Jughead broke the silence. The psycho hadn’t taken his speech yet. He let out a shuddery breath. “Please tell me we’re being pranked.”