The Quasiverse Blog

“I never figured you for the type,” she said when I didn’t answer.

“What type?” I asked.

“The vigilante type.”  She stretched and yawned.  “But hell, what do I know.  I’m no judge of character.”

“What are you talking about?” I pressed, suspicious at the voice’s silence.

“What are you talking about?” she countered.  “You wanna beat up Scott because of the rumors, don’t you?  A lot of guys do.”

The voice was still mute, but there was a flavor of satisfaction and anticipation to its silence.

“Jinx?” she prompted, concerned again.  “I mean, they’re just rumors … did you talk to some one … ?  Did he really rape somebody?”

The voice’s scream of triumph made me wince.  Told you so, it shrieked.  You knew it too – why argue with me?

“No, I …”

Yes!  Tell her!

“I don’t know,” I managed.  The voice seethed; Chloe was clearly unconvinced.  But I refused to hear any more on it from either of them that night.

The next night I broke into the campus Crisis Center office and logged onto the computer.  The passwords the voice gave me all worked, and when I did a keyword search for Rory Scott I got a score of result hits.

Over three years, twenty girls had accused Scott of date rape.  Not a single incident had been reported to campus security.  I printed out a list and made my exit.

During the course of the next day I learned that every one of the girls that had accused him had left school.  At least half had been tormented by supporters of Scott until they fled; girls of some of the victims had plenty to say about it.

I was scared, but also exhilarated.  The voice was right, and finally peaceful in its victory.

Rory Scott had to be destroyed.

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