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The first thing Richie hears when he's conscious is the slight scraping of metal against rock. His eyes flutter open and he takes in a deep, woodsy breath of pine needles and dirt filling his nostrils. Richie screws up his face, wanting to hold onto his sleep for just a little bit longer. But his dream begins to flood him with just the hint of pins and needles, and suddenly he can't quite grasp that sense of perfect sleep anymore. Richie opens his eyes fully, foreboding starting to set in. What he's laying on isn't his bed that he went to sleep in last night. Surrounding him are grass and leaves and brush, not his anime pillows and Naruto comforter. His back is up against a tree, digging into the bark at an odd angle. Something scratches at his wrists, and he looks down to see his hands tied together with a thick piece of rope. Richie starts to slowly take stock of where he is: he's in what he can only assume to be the Witchwood Forest, kidnapped and tied to a fucking tree. What the hell? He starts to breathe rapidly, desperately trying not to panic at the state of things. He can't panic, he knows what panicking might do, and he can't have an asthma attack in the middle of the forest when he's been fucking kidnapped. He can't.
Instead, he turns toward the sound of metal against rock and nearly stifles a scream. Someone wearing a skirt with bright red hair has her back turned to him as she brings a hand with a knife up and down, up and down on the side of a whetstone. A chill runs down his back as he realizes whoever this woman is, she's sharpening a knife.
The woman turns to face him, and Richie can't contain his panic anymore. Standing there in front of a tent, a fire, and holding a carving knife in her hands, is Karen Chasity. Grace's mom. She stands there as sweet as can be, the purest smile on her face if she wasn't looking down at Richie while holding a knife.
"Good morning, sleepyhead!" she chirps, her broad smile growing. "How did you sleep?!"
Whatever Richie wants to say gets stuck in his throat with a strangled sound. Mrs. Chasity begins to walk over to him, switching the knife from hand to hand. She stops in front of him, towering over him as he shrinks back in fear.
"It's rude not to answer, you know," Mrs. Chasity says. "But then, you'd know all about being rude, wouldn't you, Richie?!"
That comes so out of left field that Richie truly doesn't know what to say. He bugs out his eyes, and Mrs. Chasity sighs.
"Do you truly not remember? You're not nearly as smart as my daughter said you were."
Mrs. Chasity leans closer with the knife, holding it up to trace a light path down Richie's temple. He squirms against the sharp metal, biting his lip as she cuts his forehead at the side near his hair. Slowly, the woman smiles.
"She also said you were particularly upset about her hall monitor rules at school the other day. Something about, no running? Whatever it was you said, Grace was very, very sad about it later that evening. And here in the Chasity household we don't like rulebreakers, Richie."
She slides the knife down all the way to his neck, and Richie swallows hard.
"You -- you couldn't have just -- talked to my mom?! She's -- she's reasonable --"
"Why would I talk to your mother when I can get the job done myself?" Karen asks with a horrifically bright smile. Richie meets her eyes, officially past panicking as his blood goes cold.
"...are you going to kill me, Mrs. Chasity?"
Karen tuts. "Oh, Richie... I'm not going to kill you anytime soon. You need to learn a lesson before you go to Hell."
She pulls back away from her victim, that same disconcerting smile never leaving her face as Richie begins to hyperventilate.
"Wh -- what?!"
"Shhhhh," Karen admonishes, placing a hand over Richie's mouth as she lifts the knife high. Richie's eyes go even wider as she brings it down, burying it in his outstretched leg. Richie yowls in pain, descending into whimpers as Karen starts to cut the flesh of his leg away from the bone, and finally falls unconscious again, his world going blissfully dark and silent.
***
"Do you know why I like this part of the forest the most, Richie?"
Hours later, Richie can barely keep his eyes open from the pain. He doesn't want to, anyways. He doesn't want to look down and see the harsh gleam of his fucking bone shine back at him, unnatural in every way. He knows he should definitely NOT be seeing his bone, or any part of his body without the skin on it. But if he looked anywhere else, then he might see the parts of his flesh that Mrs. Chasity has taken already and placed on a table to be chopped up and roasted. Richie gags at the thought and immediately regrets it because Mrs. Chasity looks over at him directly. She walks over and stops directly in front of him, reaching out a bloody hand to smooth back his hair as she drags the knife along his bone. Richie screams at the pain, spasming until she lifts the knife away.
"It's because you -- yes, you! Can scream as loud and as long as you want, and no one will be able to hear you. Isn't that FUN, dear?! No one has ever found any of my victims, and they never will. What do you think about that?"
"Pl -- please --" he begs, his voice little more than a whisper. "Let me go, M-- Mrs. Chasity. Please. I won't -- I won't say anything about Grace e-ever again --"
"It's too late for that, now isn't it?" Mrs. Chasity asks, extremely disappointed. She leans down in front of his face, grabbing his chin with her soft hand. "No, Richie. You're never leaving here again. In fact, my daughter will be here soon to hear your apology! She'll be just in time for dinner, too."
Richie blinks, tears starting to roll down from the corners of his eyes. "G -- Grace?"
"Well, what did you think all this was for, hm?" Mrs. Chasity giggles. "A mother's got to cook, doesn't she? Oh -- and don't worry. Your funeral expenses -- empty casket, of course -- are already paid in full. I just know your mother will be oh-so-grateful even if she'll never find her son's body! It's the little things in the long run, my dear."
She thumbs his cheek gently, and then raises the knife up once more to cut down into his other leg. Richie screams and screams as she cuts off his other leg's skin all the way to the bone. This time, he doesn't black out. Maybe he's going numb. Maybe he's becoming immune. Richie just screams and screams, his vision growing dark but never quite letting him escape into the release of unconsciousness while Mrs. Chasity tears through his leg like butter. She holds up the piece of flesh she's just cut away and nods approvingly as Richie sobs and sobs and sobs. His blood coats the grass a thick, thick red.
"M -- Mrs. Chasity, pl -- please -- please just let me go -- I -- I won't -- I won't --"
"That's right, you won't," Mrs. Chasity says, her tone cutting as sharp as her knife. Richie pants in exhaustion, his breathing turning ragged. "Now, Richard, I'm asking you to be quiet as much as you can for the next ten minutes while I go and get some more wood for the fire. Can you do that for me?"
"Pl -- please -- "
"Richard Lipschitz!" Mrs. Chasity yells, glaring down at him as she shouts in a tone only his mother used. Richie's heart nearly breaks. He won't see his mom again. How can he, with Mrs. Chasity wielding the knife? How can he, with Mrs. Chasity cutting him up into little bits for dinner?
"Richard Lipschitz, you will behave!" Mrs. Chasity threatens again. Richie closes his eyes, his face fully streaked with tears. He manages a nod, and Mrs. Chasity sighs and reaches down to ruffle his hair like he's a child.
"Good, good. Now, I'll be back soon! And, Richie? Don't you dare try to run away. That will just make everything incredibly more painful for you soon."
Richie listens as she walks away, and when he can no longer hear her at all, he sighs and sags against the tree, letting out a loose sob.
“Woah… what the fuck?”
The sound of Max Jägerman’s voice is not one that Richie EVER, ever thought he’d be grateful to hear. He twists around, just able to see Max at the edge of the clearing staring in revulsion at the set-up Mrs. Chasity has. He locks eyes with Richie.
“Woahhh, Shitlips? What the fuck is this — don’t tell me it’s some kind of performance art —“
“NO! N-No Max, it’s not fuckin’ — just untie me, PLEASE! I’ll — I’ll explain everything later —“
Max advances, shuddering as he walks past the table of flesh, stopping in front of Richie. He leans down, hands outstretched to untie him, when he stops. Max turns pale.
“C’mon, she could be back any second!”
“That’s — that’s your fuckin’ bone, Richie.”
Immediately the atmosphere changes. Richie stares at Max in shock. He has NEVER called him Richie before. They lock eyes. Richie swallows hard.
“Karen Chasity is g-going to cook me alive,” he says desperately. “You gotta get me outta here, Max, PLEASE! For the love of —“
“God?”
Richie’s heart plunges. Max quickly stands up. He smiles... genuinely And that's when Richie knows that all hope is lost.
"Oh, hiya Mrs. Chasity," Max says. "I know I got here a little early, but Grace is on her way, right?"
"That's right," Mrs. Chasity smiles serenely. "Why don't you go ahead and set the table while we wait?"
"MAX!" Richie can't help but yell as his bully starts to walk away. "M-Max, you -- you're IN ON THIS?! What the -- what the FUCK --"
"Sorry, Shitlips," Max says, putting his hands up in the air, acting all cool and suave and casual as usual, "Started dating Grace a few months back, and her family's pretty nice."
"MRS. CHASITY'S GOING TO FUCKIN' KILL ME --"
"Language, dear!" Mrs. Chasity scolds, untying him from the tree and hauling him to his feet as a car pulls up and parks. Richie watches, half-conscious and swaying on his feet as the blurry figures of Grace and Mark Chasity hop out. Grace walks over and gives Max a chaste kiss on the cheek before looking at her mother and beaming a bright smile. It's almost as if she doesn't see him. It's almost as if Richie's invisible. But he can't be, not right now. Now when it truly matters. He can't. The next thing he knows, Mrs. Chasity is shaking him awake and suddenly Grace is right there in front of him, careful not to get her jeans spoiled in his blood.
"Well, Richie, my mom says you have something to say to me," Grace says cheerfully. Richie feels sick. He stares up into his classmate's eyes in horror -- horror that she knows what's going to happen, horror that she's the reason why he's here at all, horror at knowing what her mom is going to do to him.
"Is -- a-all this is because I ran in the hallway?" Richie manages to whisper. Mrs. Chasity tightens her grip on his shoulder, her fingers digging in through his shirt.
"Apologize, Richie," she commands, shaking him again as he starts to pass out. Richie blinks hard and looks, terrified, into Grace's face. She waits expectantly.
"I -- I'm sorry," Richie stutters out. Grace nods and smiles at his confession. She turns to walk away.
"Alright, mom, you can get the table ready I'm --"
"Please don't kill me," Richie whimpers. Grace pauses. She tilts her head, looking back at him. Richie sniffles as Mrs. Chasity hauls him up again. He hadn't realized he was even falling.
"Please," Richie continues. "I -- I w-w-won't tell anybody about -- about this, I -- j-just wanna go h-home and -- and back to school and -- pl - please, Grace. I'm s-sorry I ran -- please let me go."
There's a second where he thinks he might have moved her. A second where he hopes with all his heart that Grace Chasity will tell her mother to release him, and he'll at least be able to get out of these fucking woods and back home. A second where Richie thinks he sees the barest amount of pity in her eyes -- and it gives him the slightest bit of hope.
Then Grace shrugs.
"Sorry, Richie. But this is what sinners get. Isn't that right, mommy?"
"Yeah, a sinner!" Max chortles. "See ya never, Shitlips."
"Dear, may I have the honors?" Suddenly Mark Chasity is there, standing right in front of him, holding a long, wicked carving knife. Karen Chasity nods with a slight smile.
"Of course, dear. I think it's time."
Richie opens his mouth to yell, and Mr. Chasity plunges the knife into his chest. He sinks to the ground, the horrid family and Max fading away like specters in the night. They're the last ones he ever sees. The last ones who ever see Richie alive.
Two hours later, the Chasitys dig into a delicious meal around the kitchen table. Grace thinks it's the best meatloaf her mother has ever made.