Look

You better take a closer look. You creep closer to find… that’s not Samantha. It’s Shelby, the girl who always delivers the kegs of beer. Shelby is a short, thick, smiley kind of girl. It’s not all chub on her… she has some muscle.

That gives you an idea, but first you need to know what she’s doing. There’s a box in this dark, forgotten corner of the cellar. Careful not to bump into any of the wine racks, you peer over her shoulder, but you still can’t really see. She’s using her phone as a light.

“Hey,” you say quietly.

She jumps in surprise.

“Shh,” you say, putting your finger to your lips. She turns around her eyes almost pop out of her head as she sees that you’re naked, but you’re in no mood to be embarrassed. Most of the house has seen you nude now already so… it doesn’t matter. “What are you doing?”

“Oh my God. Rey,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Wow.”

“Seriously. What are you doing down here?” you ask.

“I had to bring down beer.”

“So what the fuck is this?”

Shelby makes a face, then sighs. “OK, I’ll tell you. I’ve brought beer down here a lot of times.”

“Of course.” CCL drinks like a million gallons of it every week.

“Well, one time I saw somebody down here, messing with this box. I don’t know who it was. I mean… she had a cute butt…” Shelby says, getting distracted. You picture her down here, watching some girl on her hands and knees, rooting through this box.

“And?”

“And I always wondered what she was doing. The box has a false bottom. Look.” She shows you. She’s right.

“What the hell?”

“That’s what I said.”

You kneel beside her and look closer. There’s a pretty large, flat object down there. Whatever this is, it’s been here for a while. You and Shelby lift it out together. There isn’t much dust on it. It’s a journal… no, a photo album. You open it up, finding it full of newspaper clippings, not photos. The ones at the beginning are old, but they get newer as you and Shelby turn the pages, reading the old headlines and looking at the black and white photos.

“What is this?” you ask, baffled.

“Like a shrine to CCL,” Shelby says.

Hmm… yes, all the articles are about CCL, but they aren’t all glowing or positive. Injuries, hazings gone bad, disappearances.

“More like a grudge thing,” you say. “Like… it’s all bad.”

“Not all,” Shelby points out, tapping an article about how CCL girls helped a local charity. “It’s all here. Good and bad.”

Man… you never knew there was so much bad. CCL got investigated for a possible hate crime because of a hazing.

“Huh,” you say, surprised. “Doesn’t this girl look like Delilah?”

“I don’t know Delilah,” Shelby replies.

“Oh. Weird.” You reach the end of the book and shut it. Why would someone keep this in the basement, hidden away like this? CCL has tons of like… sisterhood heirloom objects and nostalgic stuff. This book would fit in with that. So why is it here?

You put it back and remember yourself. But… the ceiling overhead creaks, and dust falls. Someone’s up there. You stand up, and Shelby does too.

You hear the basement door open, and then a stair creaks. Someone is coming down.

Get back to Delilah? Or ask Shelby for help?