📚 lying liars from leland high Part 1 of 3
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SCIENCE FICTION FANTASY

Lying Liars From Leland High Pt 01

Lying Liars From Leland High Pt 01

by witchescyoa
19 min read
4.33 (1300 views)
adultfiction

*** Writers Note ***

This story is from the same series as my other works which involves an alien species that creates pocket dimensions and the people who get involved with them. But you don't need to know any of that to enjoy this. This is pure 90s high school murder mystery - Twin Peaks meets Buffy the Vampire Slayer - with plenty of sexy fun. Enjoy!

***

"Right this way, Mrs. Stevens!" Miranda's shoes click along the tile floor as she leads you through past the immaculate white lobby, and down the hallways of the virtual reality center.

It had been a month since your last visit, and since then, you had endlessly replayed the experience in your head. Immersive does not even begin to cover it - NextGen is a new wave of virtual reality vendors that actually puts you into a pocket dimension. You felt like you lived a whole life inside these pocket worlds they create. Thrilling adventure, sexy side plots, and a fully realized world. NextGen promises to transport you and they deliver. When you received the advertisement for their newest experience - a high school murder mystery - how could you resist?

After all, between your day job as a photographer, and your responsibilities as a mother and wife, the opportunity to live out some other adventure was thrilling. Sure, it costs a pretty penny but considering you will be living out a few weeks inside this created world in the blink of an eye, it definitely counts as a vacation.

Miranda, your technician from last time, gives you a warm smile. You gently smooth your black pleated skirt nervously as she brings you to the same medical appointment room you remember from last time.

"I'm so excited you booked another experience with us!" she said, leading you through the double doors.

"Well, after last time, how could I stay away?" You put your phone and clutch on the tray and hop up on the reclining chair, adjusting your shirt as it bunches up around your substantive chest, and pushing your long brown hair out of the way.

"So, we crunched the numbers from your last time here..." Miranda says and you jerk back to the present. She stooped over the large machine, punching buttons on her tablet.

"... and it looks like you like a healthy mix of all things, right? Plenty of adventure, plenty of romantic opportunities, high scores on exploration and character development." She turns around and smiles. "You really went for the full experience!"

"Is that rare?" You ask. She gives a little shrug.

"We protect our clients' confidentiality here..." she says apologetically.

"But in general?" She nods.

"In general, some folks like to just power through the whole thing - racing ahead to each plot point. Others just spend the whole time having sex with everyone they see. And some go absolutely bananas and just start..." she gives a painful wince.

"Sorry, not really the point. The point is, you got the full experience last time and I think you are really going to enjoy this. Did I mention I was on the design team for Lying Liars?" The cheer in her voice had returned.

"Yes, it's part of what made me want to give it a try." Miranda blushes at the compliment and fusses with her tablet.

"Well, I think you'll like this. It actually has a reactive protocol in the program, so the more you explore a plot thread, the more that theme plays a part in the story."

"Really?" You ask. She nods. How on earth are they pulling that off, you wonder.

"Okay, just a few last minute questions before we get started," she says. "This experience is a high school murder mystery, and we want it to reflect each individual's personal history. We find that leads to a more powerful experience but not everyone had a positive time in high school." She holds up her hand in mock apology, "I know I didn't!"

"No, I'm fine with that. My high school experience was fine. A bit boring but fine." You say.

"Well, this should be anything but boring!" Miranda answers. "Where'd you grow up? We can match the region to your childhood."

"Woah, that's pretty cool!" You say, mind racing. Miranda is looking at you expectantly.

"Sorry, my folks moved around a bit growing up but mostly in the Pacific Northwest."

"Excellent." Miranda clicks around. "How about Mercer Island? Are you familiar with that place? I'm seeing it is near Seattle." You crack a big smile.

"Yes, I know Mercer Island. That works!"

"Okay, and same romantic settings as last time?" You nod.

"Yes, those worked just fine. Although I do have a question," you say hesitantly. "You mention romantic options but it involves high schools..."

"OH! Yes, don't worry about anything underage, we have strict protections against that. This experience is a tribute to 90s movies and television shows, and so all the characters are 'played' by twenty-something actors so you are completely okay. Also, it was the 90s, and HR wasn't really as big a deal as it is now, so some of the adults are options as well. Spoilers, I know but I figured you would want to know."

She pauses looking up from her keyboard. "Is that okay?"

"Oh yes, that all sounds great." You answer as she fits the skullcap onto your head and gives you the NextGen watch. You slip it onto your wrist.

"Remember, tap it three times if you need to end the scenario for any reason. We will be monitoring your vitals and your progress through the experience on our end but hopefully there shouldn't be any disruptions like last time."

She pauses, and gives you an odd look.

"Speaking of which, do you have anything else on your person that might disrupt the equipment? We were running diagnostics last time to see what happened and it appeared that there was some sort of electrical interference."

You shake your head. "Just the wire in my bra, is that a problem?" You laugh. She shakes her head. "I don't think so."

"Well, I think you should be good." She goes over to the big machine in the corner and slowly slides the lever up. "Here we go, off to Leland High..."

A hum fills the room, and the band on your head burns hot. The lights flicker above you and you see Miranda worriedly flipping switches on the big screen and then the whole room fades to white.

###

"Brenna! Excuse me, Brenna?" You look up, blinking. An older woman with thick, red glasses and a rather unflattering sweater is sitting behind a desk holding a large phone.

"Principal Sheffield will see you now." She points to the large office adjacent to her desk. You grab the brightly colored backpack you find leaning against your black tights and pleated orange skirt.

"Oof, these were definitely some fashion choices for the time." you mutter to yourself, adjusting the giant scrunchie on your wrist and pushing open the principal's office door.

Inside, Principal Sheffield, a large black man with a thin mustache, charcoal grey suit jacket and a cautious smile, sits behind a wide desk and beckons you to take the chair across from him.

"Brenna, yes, thank you for coming. I hope I didn't pull you away from anything important?" He asks, glancing at his paperwork. "Ah, Mrs. Dorgan's class. Well, classic literature can wait, I'm afraid. Detective Morris, this is the young woman I was telling you about."

You turn and notice a tall, thin man with bleach blonde hair standing next to the window. He's wearing a long gray coat and has cheekbones that could cut your hands. He doesn't smile and his eyes are piercing.

"Hello Ms. Stevens." he says in a clipped british accent. "I understand you are something of an amateur detective?" Morris asks, a hint of mockery in his voice, but Principal Sheffield answers for you.

"Ms. Stevens actually helped the faculty resolve a rather uncomfortable situation last year involving a bit of blackmail from a community member. I think she can be helpful to you."

Morris gives you a cocky sneer. "And did this 'resolution' involve one of your hallucinations?"

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He flips open his notebook. "Brenna Stevens, 18, a senior at Leland High School, claimed that the final location of the documents came to her 'in a flash'. Other students report that Stevens had claimed to have visions before and that it was 'that thing she does'."

Morris gives a disdainful look at you and then back to the principal.

"I have a murder to solve, I don't need to play nancy babysitter for some pretend fortune teller."

Sheffield's face darkens. "And how much progress have you made Detective? Those kids out there just opening up to you when you flash your badge? Especially with that foreign accent? Look, give her a chance."

You look back to Morris. He gives a big sigh and turns back to the two of you.

"Right. Look, if we are going to do this, you are going to follow my rules, got it?" You nod. "I don't need the hassle of trying to fend off a Nancy Drew while I'm trying to close the Jovanovic case. You do as I say, ask around, and report back to me. That's it. No meddling with the other suspects, no sneaking into places, no blabbing to your two little sidekicks..." he snaps his fingers. "...what's their names? The tall girl on the basketball team and the little yearbook dweeb."

"Crystal and Jules." Sheffield says softly.

"Yes, Crystal and Jules. Don't go blabbing to them, okay?" You nod.

"Okay." There's a moment's pause.

"So, you want to tell me what this is all about?" You ask.

Principal Sheffield pulls out a picture from the folder on his desk.

"You know Tom Jovanovic, right? He and his sister, Maribeth, transferred in two years ago." You feel like you should be taking notes. You reach down and unzip your backpack, pulling out a bulk plastic folder. You pull it open with a shockingly loud rip of velcro.

Oh yeah, a trapper keeper. Awesome.

Morris rolls his eyes at you but Sheffield continues.

"Apparently, Tom and Maribeth had a big party at their parent's house on New Year's Eve. Did you go?"

You shake your head. He continues.

"Well, it sounds like half the school was there, and it got pretty wild. It's a big house on a big piece of property next to the water. The next morning Tom's body was found down near the water and we have reason to believe that he was murdered."

He holds up a picture of Tom - a handsome senior, wearing some flannel and squinting into the camera.

"Now we've got a whole high school full of witnesses but Detective Morris has not been able to get any of them to share what happened. Do you think you could ask around and get him a few leads?"

You smile, finishing up your notes.

"Yes, I am happy to help." You turn to Detective Morris. "Any particular places I should start?"

Detective Morris starts ticking off options on his hand.

"We've got the blonde bint, his main squeeze. Her name is Jessica. There's the sister, of course, Maribeth. And then I think he has a few buddies on the swim team, he was close to a couple of blokes there."

"Okay, anything else I need to know?" You ask. "What about how he died - was he strangled or stabbed or drowned or.. "

"Fucking hell, lass!" Morris snarls. "You don't need to know a bleeding thing about that, christ child! Just ask around and see if anyone knows anything."

You turn towards Sheffield who gives you an indulgent smile and a gentle wave of dismissal.

"I'll do my best, thank you!" and with a quick bob, you slip out of the room.

".... stabbed or strangled.. " you hear Morris muttering. "Kids these days."

Flipping through your trapper keeper, you can see your class schedule mounted on the inside along with a little map of the school. Perfect!

The map inside your trapper keeper leads you right to Mr. Bassett's chemistry class. You quickly scan the room and pick a seat on one of the tall stools near the back at one of the lab stations. Do you have homework? Oh god, what if the teacher calls on you? Are you sitting in the right seat? You start flipping through your trapper keeper looking for notes.

"Evan Lansing." The teacher calls. "Here!"

"Damien Holt?" "Present."

"Jessica Miller?" You crane your next to see a short blonde girl with a wide trusting face and sad eyes put up her hand. "Here." She says. She's got to be the girlfriend.

"Brenna Stevens?" Mr. Bassett calls out. "Present!"

And with that, Mr. Bassett is sorting you into small groups around bunsen burners so that you can dissolve sugar into a solution. You grab your back and quickly position yourself in the same group as Jessica.

Your other two team members are already getting started while Jessica pulls out a small pink notebook and Lisa Frank pen to take notes.

"Hey," you say to Jessica quietly. "I heard about Tom. I'm so sorry."

She looks over at your teammates nervously but they are engrossed in the project.

"I'm not even supposed to talk about it," she says. "Not until they make an announcement anyway. But thank you."

"Do you know anybody who would have wanted to hurt him?" She looks over at you appraisingly.

"I know you want to help, Brenna, but I don't have any of the answers. We were only dating a few months, and I don't even think he liked me that much," she says sadly.

"What makes you say that?" You ask. She gives a big sigh.

"Sometimes, things were great. He was cute, he was kind. But some days," she shook her head. "He was cold and distant. Elizabeth said that there might be another girl, I don't know." Jessica shrugs.

"I guess it doesn't matter anymore. If you want to know what was really going on, you should talk to those two friends of his, Cody and Dylan? He was always talking with them. And his sister, but he hates his sister. Hated."

"Are you two going to help at all?" Your lab partner asks snarkily.

"Sorry." You apologize. Jessica gives you a sympathetic smile as the two of you jot down the readings on temperature.

"Brenna?" She whispers.

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"Yeah?"

"Thank you. I don't trust that cop. But I know you will get to the bottom of this." She squeezes your hand, softly and your heart beats a little faster.

###

The announcement came just as you were settled in your last class of the day, US history. Principal Sheffield was brief but to the point.

"As many of you may be aware, we lost a student over the winter break. Tom Jovanovic died on New Year's Eve. The school counselors are available for anyone who needs to talk and we appreciate all students respecting the family's privacy during this difficult time. Thank you."

Judging by the lack of surprise from the students in your class, the rumor mill had been busy but at least it was out in the open now.

As your history teacher droned on, you strategize your next move after school.

At the sound of the final bell, the river of students delivers you out the front doors of the high school and into the cold, clear January weather. You survey the chaos unfolding in front of the school gates - the cars pulling in for pick up, the school buses loading in the adjacent parking lot, teenagers lounging in their hoodies, all talking and shouting and posing and shuffling.

"Yo! Brenna!" A short guy with wavy dark hair and a skateboard waves at you. He stands next to a tall, muscular Latina woman who is doing her best not to be seen standing next to him.

"Don't just shout at her! You are so lame." The woman says, swatting his shoulder as you approach.

"Hey," you say cautiously, racking your brains for the names Principal Sheffield had mentioned. "Crystal and Jules?" you say, trying not to make it sound like a question.

"Of course, space cadet, who else would it be?" Crystal responds, "Just your best friend from the second grade and that annoying boy who won't stop following us around."

Jules gives his best cocky smile. "That's just because you both are in love with me and I can't decide which one of you to marry."

Crystal rolls her eyes. "Could you not? You're getting virgin vibe all over me. Ugh."

"So, did you get to talk to the cockney detective? I saw you head into the Scheff' office." Crystal asks.

"Technically, I think he has a London accent." Jules corrects. "East London actually. Cockney is a whole different thing. You would know that if you bothered to watch those Monty Python tapes I lent you."

You grin. "Monty Python is pretty sweet," you say. Jules lights up.

"See! Thank you!"

"So... what'd the detective say?" Crystal asks. "Actually, can we talk and walk? It's almost time for basketball practice. Otherwise I'd walk you two home but it's Tuesday."

"Can't let anyone else know the three of us live in the only poor part of Mercer island, can we?" says Jules with more than a little bitterness. "The bourgeoisie might get nervous that they have been infiltrated."

The three of you head off towards the gym as you share your encounter with Detective Morris and then the brief conversation with Jessica Miller.

"Sounds to me like we've got our work cut out for us. A real murder too!" Jules rubs his hands together before shooting you an apologetic look.

"Sorry Brenna, I just get excited."

"You are already thinking of making a suspect board, aren't you?" says Crystal. "Just like the Halliwell family case from last year?" Jules nods eagerly.

"Plus, because I'm on the yearbook staff, I have access to some of the student files. I'll see what we've got on Tom and his sister."

"Thanks you two. I really appreciate it," you say as you reach the outer door of the gym.

"So what are you going to do now?" Crystal asks.

"I was thinking about going to swim practice to see if I can get some answers out of his friends," you say.

Crystal gets a coy smile. "Ooohhh, dang. All those sexy boys in their speedos. Are you going to the pool or sneaking into their locker room? Use your feminine wiles on them?"

Jules gives her an irritated look - jealousy? But she ignores it.

"If you are going to be home late, I give your mom a heads up. I know she's not going to be done with her bus route till later, I can leave a note for you." Jules says.

You thank Jules for leaving a note for your mom and then head over to the indoor pool adjacent to the gym. The moist air, reeking of chlorine, makes you regret the tights you are wearing but you soldier on, picking your way through the metal bleachers past the scattering of other kids and adults. The pool has two sections, a lengthy lap section and a diving area. The swim team, looking more like a muscular batch of twenty something J crew models rather than actual teenagers, are doing laps in phases under the watchful eye of a balding Jason Alexander lookalike.

Rummaging through your backpack, you locate a disc man (already loaded with NOW 6!), and chunky headphones. You set down on the bleachers next to where the swimmers queue up for their laps, put the headphones a little askew and wait.

You don't have to wait long. The swimmers are talking and in the hurried hushed tones of nervous secrets.

"Did you hear?"

"I can't believe it..."

"I had so much to drink that night."

"I know! You stuck your dick in Lizzy!"

"Everyone has stuck their dick in Lizzy. She's seen more cock than Cody's mom."

At the mention of Cody, one of Tom's close friends, you zero in on which two athletes are talking. A lanky swimmer with long, curly, dirty brown hair is treading water with a shorter, more muscular guy with spiky black hair.

"Dude, she was there." says spiky hair.

"Lizzy? I know, she sucked me off in the boathouse." says the curly haired swimmer.

"No, asshole, Cody's mom."

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah."

"I mean, you know what they say about her." Says the curly haired man.

"I know, but I think she had something going on with Tom," said spiky hair. "I saw them talking out back."

"She was probably just trying to score some firespores from Billy. He was there too." The curly haired swimmer splashes the water dismissively as he washes his goggles.

"Oh I know!" says spiky hair. "We still owe him $900!"

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