destruction.
(a solo thread of caleb rivers vs. the stranger ;; tw: violence, tw: alcohol )
He hated every moment of this. It was like every part of him was screaming to turn around; to run back to the school and never look back. But he knew he couldn’t. Not with Hanna at stake.
He would do anything for her. And this was further proving it... as long as she understood that, things would be okay. They had to be, right? Hanna would understand that when all this was over, it was to keep her safe. It was to keep her, and everyone else he cared about safe.
Let’s just hope that sweet pea understood that, too.
he adjusted the beanie on his head as he watched from his hiding spot in the trees behind the wrym. right now it was just a waiting game. a game of being patient; waiting for the moment toni and sweet pea left the building. he had been in there just hours prior; he knew they were the only ones working that night.
just have to wait.
his pockets were empty, save for the few things he managed to snag from the lockers at school. it wasn’t asked of him, but he had to plant evidence somehow. Anything to get the blame off him. Anything to keep him from being exiled.
He even went as far as to snagging the bulldog jacket, with a last name emblazoned on the back. That’d be the finishing touch.
He heard the keys rustling before he saw the duo leave. They were laughing; bantering back and forth like he’d seen them do so many times. It made his heart sink further into his gut. Man, he hated this.
With them gone, and getting further and further away from the wrym... it was time for him to move. He didn’t have much time. He had to get in, do his thing, and get out.
As he approached the door, he slid the black gloves onto his hands.
His instinct was telling him to pick the lock. It would be easy; a quick bobby pin in and he’d be set. But this stupid stranger wanted the place to be destroyed. So once he knew his friends were out of earshot, he took out the hammer from his bag and broke the lock clean off, making quick work of the mechanics to allow him to inside.
If that alone was painful... he hated to think about the rest of it.
He let out a sigh as he stepped into the place that was now his own. The back room; the kitchen area, the dining area... it was all too much. He had to destroy it all.
So he started with the first room: the kitchen. He flipped the tables, threw around the cutlery, snapped every knife and tool he saw in half. Left open the freezer, breaking boxes of food and everything else. By the time he was done, the kitchen alone was a mess of broken plates, glass, and metal. He did the same to the back room, and pocketed the money he found in the safe after he broke that open, too.
If he was going to commit a crime... might as well go all out.
The stranger didn’t have to know what he planned on doing with the money, anyways.
Next was the bar.
He scanned the products, taking a few swigs of whiskey before storing a few bottles in his bag for later. He was going to need it after this, especially as he ran the hammer along the shelves, letting bottle after bottle fall to pieces on the floor. Whatever he saved, he threw the bottles across the room, letting them shatter against the other walls. He took the hammer to the bar itself, breaking the wood and smashing holes into it. The glasses fell, joining the bottles in a sad pile of broken glass and spilled alcohol. Erasing all the memories he shared at this very bar. The registers were smashed, the rags torn.
He didn’t even give the alcohol enough time to settle in before he moved to the dining area.
He snapped the barstools, dug into the booths, ripping out the stuffing inside. Flipped the tables and smashed them with the hammer. He snapped the pool sticks, threw the balls around the hardwood floor, creating dents that wouldn’t be saved.
He saved the pool table for last.
The table where he sat against right after completing initiation. The table where Hanna kissed him on the cheek, wishing him a congrats. Where he played with Joaquin, where he talked with peaches.
Where sweet pea himself welcomed him into the serpents.
Taking another drink from the bottle in his bag, he pulled out his switchblade and leaned forward, dragging it across the green felt from top to bottom.
It only felt right, before he laid the hammer into it.
That one hurt the most.
He planted his evidence before he left; tossing a jacket onto one pile of rubble; a torn lanyard on another. And last but not least, he dropped the school ID of Reggie Mantle behind the bar, just visible enough under the broken glass to be noticed and identified.
The last thing he did on his way out was throw one of the broken stools through the front window of the wrym.
His fingers moved quickly across the screen, sending a quick “it’s done” message off to this stupid stranger.
If word got out... he just hoped pea had it in him to forgive him.