Chapter Text
Lori had always been a light sleeper.
She’d often been awoken by her mother’s night terrors, having to rush in at late hours of the night to comfort her and ensure her no one was coming after her, or Lori, next after Lori’s father. It was like being on stand-by mode, always ready and on edge for that impending moment that someone needed her even if it never came. She never really minded it - she often ended up sleeping in school later on in the day, anyways, so long as Tiffany and her pack didn’t throw paper balls or erasers at her desk to disrupt her. She just never felt truly safe while asleep. It was the idea of not being aware of the things around you. Your brain being too slow to react if something creeps up. It always gave her the shudders. She’d willingly give up a few hours of rest if it meant keeping watch for her loved ones.
This time around, even getting comfortable to settle for the night was a difficult task after her horrific day, alongside the fact she was curled up on a beanbag just a couple feet away from the Queen Bee Tiffany in the other girl’s own bedroom? Besides the unfamiliarity of how intimidating and decorated it was, she didn’t know how anybody expected her to be not on edge sharing a room with whom she thought was one of Shadyside High’s most ruthless bullies.
If you had told her that Prom would result in over ten dead classmates, the trauma of a lifetime and a strange alliance with her lifelong enemy, she would’ve just skipped the night to watch bad movies at Megan’s before you had even finished. Something about it just didn’t seem… finished. Like it couldn’t be over just yet. She wasn’t even sure she got a wink’s worth of rest before a strange noise began to echo from downstairs.
At first, it sounded like it might’ve been the hum of an A.C, or buzz of a left-open fridge. Lori tiredly flickered open her eyes, assuming it was the soft television static from across the room that managed to shake her back awake. She almost decided to just turn around and ignore it again… when something else stirred back in return. Whatever it was, it was coming from the stairwell, thunk, thunking gradually up closer. Much louder than just coincidentally creaky floorboards or the drumming of rain against a window.
Someone was here. And they wanted Lori to know it.
Rising to her feet as swiftly yet quietly as she could, she tiptoed past the bedroom doorframe, her blood running as cold as ice as she dared to step closer to what could spell her doom. This had to be a nightmare, right? The police had the crime scene under control, and the monstrous killer arrested. Everyone was sent home. Everyone was safe. Yet... her muscles still ached from all the running, and the frostiness of the air forming goosebumps along her arms couldn’t be from her imagination. Lori felt herself freeze to the spot as her breaths became quick and shallow with fear - not again. Please, not again. She barely managed to escape death the first time. She wasn’t sure she could do it for the second.
It seemed like the commotion managed to summon Tiffany back to consciousness, too, as the bedsheets behind rustled to signify the girl drowsily climbing out of bed. “Mommy?” she called timidly, rubbing her eyes and trudging closer to Lori outside, likely confused at whatever ordeal was going on. There was no doubt that she felt a little off-put about the situation too, but there was no use in complaining - they were probably safer, albeit a little reluctantly, together in numbers. Following Lori’s gaze, her vision drifted to the figure ascending the stairs. Her mother. She almost grinned with relief at the reveal until the glint of something sharp instead took her attention - looking further down, her eyes went wide as she was met with the sight of a knife.
Almost as soon as Tiffany caught notice of it, Mrs. Falconer darted forward like a snake attacking prey, the murderous look on her face telling Lori she was intent on adding one more kill to the count tonight.
“Oh my God!” Tiffany shrieked, tears practically welling in her eyes already as Lori was quick to make a dash to the end of the hall, the quickest escape route she had access to. With her experience of escaping the killers earlier on in the night, there was a small possibility she could save herself again. Following close behind, Tiffany managed to overtake her, panic and terror bubbling through her veins as they rushed into the nearest bedroom. Still panting, with footsteps fast approaching, the pair raced into a walk-in closet to hide - it didn’t have the best chance at survival, but it was their only shot besides jumping out a window and risking broken bones. Lori, despite her clammy fear, was about to start drafting up a desperate plan to escape… until she realised Tiffany had begun to talk.
“How could they do this?” The teen wept, shaken and emotional, half talking to herself as she referenced her own parents going on a killing spree. “I- I heard what they did in there. From the police.”
Lori urged her to shush, peeking through the slants in the closet door for any signs of danger. She hated to admit it, but they were both going to die if Tiffany kept rambling. She felt awful thinking this way, but it was the adrenaline pumping through her that kept her alert and aware, and distractions were not what she needed.
“They said that Judd’s face was cut in half… and Debbie… D-Debbie was fried!”
“Tiffany, you gotta be quiet!” Lori repeated, frustrated, turning around to rather strictly console the other girl. However, her anger quickly melted and was replaced with a somber pity in seconds.
She looked like a wreck - Lori wasn’t sure she’d ever seen Tiffany without her usual prim and proper demeanour. The girl before her was a mess, and nothing like the Tiffany she was so used to. She was sniffling with fear, hands trembling and eyes wet - it was like she was incapacitated, wanting to wish this all away like it was a bad dream. Maybe Lori was just desensitised to the Shadyside violence because this girl looked traumatised. Then again, she guessed that’s how you’re supposed to feel when both your parents get revealed as murderers on the same night.
“You were going to be next.” The former mean girl mumbled under her breath, barely audible. Saying the sentence out loud seemed to upset Tiffany more than Lori more as she shut her eyes tight, shuddering. “And- and I just stood there, I was too afraid to–“
“Tiffany, dear!” Mrs. Falconer exclaimed in a sing-song tone, seemingly just outside in the hall. Lori’s breath hitched, bolting upright to stay as still as possible.
“You must know, we did this all for you. Claim your throne. Claim your crown. That worthless Lori girl deserves nothing. You were destined for the success, darling! It’s what you were made for!” The mother cooed, all while dragging her knife across the painted walls as she stalked, the horrible scraping sound sending a chill down Lori’s spine. She returned a glance back to the other girl who had backed further into the closet, covering her ears with her hands, on the verge of sobbing. “Stop,” she whispered shakily. “Make her stop. Make her stop.”
Lori reached out an unsteady hand and placed it on Tiffany’s shoulder, a silent act of reassurance. The girl looked back up at her with despaired, damp eyes, too distraught to mutter anything else. It was like she was a broken shell, her egotistical and cruel facade act replaced by the true terrified teenage girl she really was. Lori couldn’t help but feel a deep sadness for her - maybe she was just an empath at heart, hard for her to truly hate anyone, but after their talk in the police car about the impossible expectations Tiffany’s parents constantly had for her… she truly believed Tiffany was a victim in all this, too. Lori opened her mouth, about to utter a few comforting words…
… when the blade of a knife stabbed through one of the closet door slats, angled upwards and only missing Lori’s chest by an inch. “Found you!” Mrs. Falconer cried with delight as the two teens screamed in terror. Thinking quick, Lori kicked open the door in the woman’s face, knocking her backwards and hitting the bed behind her with a thud. With their attacker temporarily stunned, Lori grabbed onto Tiffany’s hand as the latter stared down at her mother in dismay. “Come on!” Lori urged, speeding back down the hall without wasting time looking back.
Unfortunately, dragging a half-paralysed-with-fear ally behind you down a cramped hallway often doesn’t give you the upper hand when it comes to speed, even if the couple had a head start. Tiffany yet again shrieked, and Lori barely had any time to react before her classmate’s grip on her hand was ripped away, and the sharp blade of a knife was plunged deep into her shoulder. An explosive burst of pain zapped through her whole body as Lori fell to the landing floor in anguish, gasping for air as she could feel hot, stinging blood begin to spill down her back. She tried to drag herself closer to the stairs, but each movement was excruciating, and with Mrs. Falconer laughing heartily in the background she knew she wouldn’t be able to make it far.
“There’s nowhere to run, Lori. Did you really think you could escape tonight? After all you did?” The dark haired woman chuckled, a fearless and ferocious look on her face. “This was all your fault. All you needed to do was blend into the background like you always did. Like you were always supposed to do.”
“I- I didn’t-“ Lori began, slurring her words as the pain made it hard to concentrate on anything else.
“Tiffany was supposed to win Prom Queen. She was supposed to win at everything we wanted.“ Mrs. Falconer interrupted with a hiss. “But you had to go and mess up our plans. Oh yes, you wanted to be the main event. Have your name known for a change. Feel just a fraction of the perfection we built her to be.” The older woman kicked at Lori’s stomach, causing her to double over with a groan. Squinting, she managed to cast a glance over in Tiffany’s direction, hoping the bully-turned-possible-friend had a change of heart after all and would be willing to help her. At the very end of the hall she saw the daughter clutching a metal statuette hard and close to her chest, trembling as she slowly advanced closer. Lori could’ve sighed with relief if it didn’t give away the plan. She instead needed to stall time with this maniac until Tiffany could get close enough undetected.
“She never wanted to be perfect, you know?” Lori grunted, struggling to sit up. She pressed her back against the wall, leaving a bloody print - if things went to shit and she didn’t end up surviving the night, maybe the police would… oh, who was she kidding? She had to make it until the morning. Or else all of this would have been for nothing.
“She was never her own person. Just the fake, hollow version of the girl you tried to mold her to be. She always had to be what you wanted, never letting her make her own choices for herself. You built her up and put her on this high pedestal, telling her if she ever fell down, she’d never be able to make it to the top again.”
“Well, can you blame me? It was either a future like her’s in Shadyside, or yours. Or maybe even Mr. Granger’s. Six feet below the ground, dead and buried.” Mrs. Falconer grinned, clearly unfazed. She leaned down to Lori’s level, wearing a fake sympathetic expression until it quickly shifted to loathing. “That two-timing slob got what he deserved. He reminds me of you, you know. You both look the same when you’ve got a knife in front of your face. Well, technically for him it was in his face. Maybe that’s why he cried more. If you’re lucky maybe you’ll get to follow in his footsteps. Like father, like daughter!”
Lori felt her heart drop, a cold, heavy sensation sprouting from her stomach and chilling her whole body. No. Her face creased as tears began to flow down her cheeks. “No. No, no, no!” This couldn’t be true. She refused to believe it. She didn’t want to think this monster before her was about to kill both her and her father.
No. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe it.
It was that she couldn’t let it happen.
“Tell him I said hi when you see him in hell.” Mrs. Falconer snarled, standing tall again, raising the bloody knife above her head once more to go in for the final strike. Tiffany, who had just begun to do a similar motion only a second too late, gasped in alarm and hesitated - caught off guard, the older woman spun around, ready to defend herself against any sudden attack. When she saw it was her own daughter, her face dropped with realisation, before it was quickly replaced with fury.
“You!” She growled, using a strong arm to pin Tiffany against the wall, causing the teen to drop the statuette to the floor with a clatter before it could make contact. “You ungrateful brat! I make this night the best night of your life and this is how you repay me?” Tiffany struggled under her mother’s grip, looking like a desperate trapped animal. “I raised you better than this.” She continued. “You could’ve had it all. We put in everything to ensure you’d never fail! So you’d never stray! You were supposed to be flawless. You’re a failure.”
“I’m not- I’m not-“ the daughter gasped, worn out from trying to wriggle away, instead trying to unsuccessfully pry her mother’s arm away. Amidst the chaos she had kicked the statuette over to Lori - which may have been an accident, but the girl now knew what she had to do. While Mrs. Falconer was occupied, she slowly but surely rose back up, trying to suppress the intense need to wheeze in pain while she clenched the sculpture as tight as she possibly could. She tip-toed closer, making sure she was out of Mrs. Falconer’s line of sign…
“If you had just done what we had said everything would have turned out fine! Don’t be a fool, now, darling. Just leave us be and stay out of our way. You don’t want either of us to get hurt, do you?”
“I do.” Lori rebuts, winding her arm back as far as it could go before swinging the corner of the weapon as hard as she could into the side of Mrs. Falconer’s head.
It felt like the whole world went silent for a moment as the woman stumbled backwards, stunned and confused, more dazed than furious or pained. Red trickled down her head and through her dark hair, eventually streaming down her face and dripping to the floor. Her footing was clumsy and unstable, and eventually she couldn’t stay upright anymore, barely catching herself as she fell backwards against the stair balcony. The old wooden spindles creaked and groaned dangerously at the sudden impact, bending under her weight as cracks and splinters formed. She attempted to get back up again but it was as if the energy and strength were drained from her muscles - try as she might, she could barely move.
“What…” She mumbled, her lips heavy, words hard to form on her tongue. She sluggishly looked down at her hands and tried to flex her fingers into a fist, but let out a muffled wail when they wouldn’t even move. “You… you devil… you’re… so dead…” She spat the last words with vitriol - even with what no doubt was major brain damage, the hate that fuelled her remained until her last moments.
Lori was about to spit back her own insults when Tiffany stepped forward. “I tried.” She started, taking a heavy breath to steady her nerves. “I tried to hard to be the girl you wanted me to be. But I was never enough. You always wanted more, more - you have no idea what I’ve been through to try to make you proud. What I’ve had to do to people. Who I’ve had to leave behind all to make myself look better.”
Another step.
“And in the end? I only ever felt worse. The friends around me were fake. The glittery gold from all the trophies was really just plastic. It was never real. Always just forged success.”
Another.
“I was never your daughter. Just your own selfish second chance at making a name for yourself.”
She turned to look at Lori, her pained expression now morphed into a look of determination and dedication. She nodded, and Lori knew what they were going to do.
“See you in hell, alright.”
Together, they launched forwards, working together to shove Mrs. Falconer backwards as the balcony gave way, wood splintering and shattering as the woman fell from the top, unable to stop herself or grab the ledge for safety. She couldn’t even flail her arms as she dropped, gravity doing its work as eventually even her look of undisguised fury and disgust was too far away to see. Down, down she went, both Lori and Tiffany watching tiredly from above until-
Squelch.
Mrs. Falconer didn’t land on the floor. Honestly, if she did, it might’ve been a more dignifying death. No, she landed right on top of the bronze falcon statue at the bottom of the stairwell, the wing of the bird pointed upwards, piercing through her stomach as she hung motionless from the metal. Blood splattered and dripped from the cold feathers, the namesake of the family unknowingly causing its matriarch’s demise. At least she was already dressed in black for the funeral. Unfortunately, it was looking to be closed casket.
Tiffany dropped to her knees, exhausted, broken and shivering - but finally free. Lori wrapped her arms around her, mostly to try distract her from the grisly sight below their feet, but also just to alleviate the pain. They were both crying and in shock but neither seemed to care, too relieved and weary to do much else.
“It’s over.” She promised, her quiet voice just enough for only Tiffany to hear. Police car alarms rang quietly in the distance, their second summoning within one night. Tiffany must’ve called in quick when she fetched the statuette - Lori almost laughed with happiness, slightly delirious as the shock wore off and the reality of the situation creeping slowly back in. Everyone knew Tiffany’s good grades came from Linda, but maybe she really was smarter than she let on.
They clung to each other like they were the last people left on Earth until the officers arrived and had to break them away, the last two prom queens of Shadyside High managing to have survived the night.
They definitely weren’t friends twenty-four hours ago. Honestly, probably not even two, either. After enduring all of this together, though? Lori didn’t know what that made them.
Maybe she’d like to, though.