𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋

𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕚𝕩

It took a few weeks for the nightmares to stop. For the first few nights, after you woke up in that cold, wet basement, nightmares were all you knew when you closed your eyes. Even when you thought they had finally stopped, they always came back to bite you in the ass when you least expected it.

Like tonight, for example.

You sat up straight, sucking in a fresh breath of air and bringing up your hand to cup against your cheek. A relieved gasp trembled from your lips and you dedicated the next few moments to slowing your panicked breaths.

In and out. In and out. In and out. Just like you'd rehearsed several times before, several nights in a row.

The nightmares were especially awful because they didn't always approach you at first. Those sneaky motherfuckers always weaved themselves into your mind, masquerading as fond memories of your dead friends, letting you believe for the slightest second that you beat whatever monster lived inside your mind.

And then bam—all of a sudden your dream becomes a carnage carnival with you as a guest of honor.

You let out an aggravated huff and laid your head back down against your soft pillows. You were flattered by the effort the boys put into recreating your bedroom top to bottom. They even took the little glow-in-the-dark stars from your old room and stuck them on the ceiling in almost the same exact patterns.

Looking up at them now, you could almost convince yourself that you were back home in Woodsboro. That you would wake up tomorrow morning and go to school and see all of your friends. All of your friends who were now six feet under.

An uncomfortable tingling feeling traveled up from your fingertips and made goosebumps appear down your arms and legs. It was the worst part about waking up; the aftermath of a night terror. Like a bucket of icy water had been thrown over your body while you slept. The best nights were when you could shake it off on your own. But you knew that tonight wasn't doing you any favors.

As quietly as you possibly could, you rose out of bed and padded across the floor to your open door. It had a lock on it. In fact, there were three. But your boys never had reason to use them yet. They always reminded you of that. Of how proud they were of you and how well you were adjusting to your new life.

"Such a good girl," Stu would say, coming up from behind to trap you against his chest in an unexpected hug. Even though you pretended to hate it, you would let him tussle up your hair playfully as he toyed with you. "You haven't even tried to jump the gun yet. Must like us that much, hm?"

And you would giggle and shrink in his hold, pretending that you never thought about prying open your bedroom window and running off into the cold night. Or that you've eyed the knives in the kitchen, wondering if they were sharp enough to slide through one of the locks that shackled the front door shut.

But that was all they were. Thoughts. Nothing you would ever even dream of acting on.

There was nothing left for you in Woodsboro. Nothing but graves.

The hallway was pitch black aside from the flickering light erupting from underneath the door to Stu's bedroom. According to the muffled screams and pitchy soundtrack, you figured he was watching The Exorcist again for the fourth time that week. And as much as you loved watching little girls turn into demons and float off of their beds, you really didn't have it in you.

So instead, you looked to the left.

The door to Billy's room was locked almost one hundred percent of the time, even when he was inside of it. So you couldn't help but feel a little shock roll through you as you tilted the doorknob and it unlatched, offering you entrance into the cool, dark, void of a room.