"Nothing to say? That’s not like you, Mikey."
As Emily lay dead, Mina laughs as she takes a photo of the blonde, adding it to a text to Mike.
“Oops, it looks like your new lead singer had a bit of an accident…”
She hits send and with a smirk playing on her red-stained lips, she glances one last time at Emily's lifeless form sprawled across the forest floor.
A sick satisfaction turns in her stomach as she wipes her blade clean on a piece of Emily's torn blouse, having successfully exacted revenge on the woman who'd dared to undermine Chester's memory. She tucks the knife into her boot, unencumbered by guilt or remorse.
Somewhere across town, Mike’s phone buzzed with a new notification, lighting up the dimly lit studio.
He'd been immersed in the creation of a new track, lost in its rhythm and cadence. The buzz of his phone was an unwelcome distraction. Plucking it from the desk, his eyes skimmed over the sender's name - Mina.
His heart stuttered in his chest as he opened the message, expecting another rant about Emily or perhaps an angry tirade about Scientology. Instead, he was confronted with a horrifying image that froze his blood.
Emily’s pale face stared lifeless from the grainy picture - a violent slash marring her neck and staining her blonde hair red. The message accompanying it seemed to echo in his mind, bouncing off the walls of his skull - a chilling taunt that drowned out all other thoughts.
A moment of shock held him paralyzed, staring at the macabre image. Then, shaking violently, he dropped his phone onto the wooden floor of the studio, the "thud" echoing like a gunshot in the silence.
His breath hitched in his throat as he tried to process what he’d seen. It was a cruel joke, surely. Some sick attempt at scaring him. It couldn't be real. Emily couldn't be... gone.
For a moment, all he could hear was his own heartbeat thrumming in his ears - a heavy, echoing pulse that seemed to fill the silence with its throbbing echo.
Gritting his teeth, Mike forced himself to move, to bend down and retrieve his phone with trembling fingers. He looked at Emily's photograph again, a knot forming in his stomach, the cold fingers of dread creeping up his spine.
Every detail of the image was etched into his mind now - Emily's wide, terrified eyes, the crimson river that ran from her throat down to her white top now dyed red. He looked at the message again, and every word seemed to hang in the air around him. Emily was gone because she had dared to step into a role that once belonged to Chester.
He swiped his phone shut with an unsteady hand, his thoughts whirling. The image felt like a blade plunging again and again into his heart, each detail a twist of the knife. His eyes blurred as he stared blankly at the floor, seeing not the polished hardwood but Emily's lifeless gaze reflecting back at him. He couldn't believe it. Didn't want to believe it. And yet the cold certainty of that image was undeniable. Emily had been taken from him, and in her place was Mina's vindictive satisfaction.
An icy chill of dread coated his heart as the reality sank in. Emily was dead. Murdered. And by Mina, no less. The text - that damned, haunting text - was not a joke or some cruel trick.
He sat back heavily into his chair, feeling as though the wind had been knocked from his lungs. His fingers pressed into his temples, trying to dull the pounding headache that was beginning to form.
His phone buzzed again. Another text from Mina.
“Nothing to say? That’s not like you, Mikey.”
Swallowing hard, Mike stared at the taunting message. He felt nauseated, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead as he shakily typed out a response.
"What did you do, Mina?"
His thumb hovered over the send button for a moment before he pressed it down. The phone buzzed in his hand as an immediate reply came through.
"Just making sure my husband’s legacy in the band remains untainted," it read, the words mocking each time he read them over.
His heart pounded a staccato rhythm in his chest as the reality of Mina's words echoed in his mind. Emily was gone, murdered in cold blood by Chester’s widow. A shiver of revulsion rolled down his spine as he thought about what Mina had done.
The notification on his phone beeped again, bringing him back to the gruesome reality of his situation. This time, an incoming call from Mina herself. His gut twisted in anxious anticipation.
Forming a shaky fist around his phone, he braced himself and took her call.
"Mike," Mina's voice sounded too calm for the havoc she had wreaked, "I hope you understand why it had to be done." Each word was a cold, precise stab through his heart, her calm demeanor in stark contrast to the devastation she left in her wake.
Mike didn't respond, his voice caught by the lump in his throat. He clutched the phone tighter, knuckles blanching under the force.
"Mina," he gritted out finally. "You're a monster."
There were a few moments of silence on the line, but Mike could picture Mina's smirk. An unsettling rush of anger coursed through his veins at the thought.
"I am what I need to be," she replied finally. "Emily was trouble. A cultist. And a horrid singer to boot.” There was a small laugh, a sound that made Mike's skin crawl. He could imagine the smirk on her face, the cruel glint in her eyes. "She had no place in our lives," Mina continued, her voice cold and heartless, "She was just a passing phase for you and the band... and an affront to Chester's memory."
A silence followed her words - a silence that betrayed the gravity of what she'd done. Mike gulped down the sob threatening to break free, his fingers tightening around the phone.
"You took her life, Mina," he said after a moment, each word heavy with loathing. "You.. ...you played judge, jury and executioner, all in the name of Chester's memory. What right did you have?" His breath hitched and he fought back the burning that welled in his eyes. He could barely think straight, a whirlwind of raw grief and disbelief consuming his every thought.
"I had every right," Mina's voice was softer now but no less resolute. "Chester was my husband, Mike. And I am the keeper of his legacy."
Mike’s breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding a heavy beat against his ribs. He could hear the conviction in her voice; it made him sick to his stomach. Before he could speak, Mina continued.
“She brainwashed you. If anything, I did this to protect you as well. You don’t know what that cult she was in is capable of. I do.”
"Emily was sweet and sincere. She loved the fans and they loved her," Mike retorted, clenching his jaw until it ached. "You're just making up excuses for your cruelty."
"Believe what you want," Mina's voice remained calm, infuriatingly so. "She wasn't who you thought she was. She defended a rapist and harassed his victims. All in the name of that cult she belonged to."
Mike inhaled sharply, her words hitting him like a punch to the gut. He had known Emily as a kind-hearted and passionate artist, her enthusiasm for their shared craft infectious. The allegations Mina voiced were alien, discordant notes clashing with his understanding of Emily.
"Mina, you're lying--" he started, but she cut him off.
"The words aren't mine; They're hers," Mina responded, an edge of steel underlining her words. "Do some digging. In fact, one of those victims finally had the courage to step forward. She’s the one who revealed the harassment Emily put her through. How Emily’s parents — being top level members of the cult — killed her dogs as retaliation for daring to speak out about what she went through.”
Mike felt the blood drain from his face, the cell phone heavy in his grasp. The sting of betrayal twisted his gut. He remembered Emily’s parents, seemingly genteel and as passionate about music as their daughter. To think they were capable of such brutality was sickening.
“I’ve warned you several times, Mike,” Mina’s voice brought him back from his thoughts. “But you never listened.”
He did remember the warnings, Mina’s increasingly aggressive attitude towards Emily whenever she brought up her beliefs. At the time it all seemed harmless, just another one of Mina’s tantrums. Now it all seemed so much darker, so much more sinister.
"But you were too enamored by her charms to listen, too blinded by lust to see her for what she was. I was a victim of those people too. Beaten, held against my will, all because I refused to join them." Mina replied, her voice flat.
Mike felt as if he were gasping for air, drowning under a wave of guilty realization. "I didn't..." he began, but his voice trailed off, choked by the lump in his throat. "I didn't know."
Mina let out a harsh laugh. "No. You chose not to know," she shot back. The bitterness in her voice was palpable. "You chose Emily and her sweet words over my warnings. And look where that led us," she added, her tone laced with a seething resentment. “We’re all victims now.”
As silence fell again, Mike found himself unable to refute her words. The guilt seeped through the cracks in his heart, flooding every crevice. He was drowning in regret, in the chilling realization of his part in this tragic story.
Mina's next words were softer, but they struck him like a thunderbolt. "I did what I had to do, Mike. For Chester... for the band... for you."