𝙁𝙄𝙉𝘼𝙇 𝙂𝙄𝙍𝙇. 𝙀𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙉 𝙇𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙍𝙔

𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚. 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙙

Paranoia had flooded Felicity's brain as she trailed behind the older Carpenter sister. If Ghostface was back, danger lurked in every corner. It meant her mind instantly reverted back to its old and irrational state.

"Remind me why I'm tagging along again?" She asked, speeding up to walk beside Sam, who threw open the door to the apartment complex.

"Bailey asked specifically for you, too, 'cause of your connection to Ghostface. Basically, you're considered to be in the same boat as us in the first seat because of what happened last year and your family name."

Felicity sighed and scratched the back of her neck. "Listen, can't I just go back and do this another day or something-"

"Sam, slow down." Tara called for her sister. Felicity turned around and furrowed her brows at the girl's voice.

"Tara, no, get back inside, lock the door." Sam began to grab her sister and forcefully began pushing her back through the doors.

"Are you serious?" Tara raised her brows in disbelief. "Now you don't wanna stick together? Flick," she looked past Sam's shoulder at the girl, whose eyes widened at the sudden spotlight. Felicity shrugged and observed each person remotely close to her intently.

Sam huffed and glanced away. "Fine."

And then there were three. Felicity couldn't help the memories of the last Ghostface killers on the loose consume her mind. Always keeping a watchful eye behind her back, deeply mistrusting everyone in her life, and worst of all: avoiding all emotional connection with anyone. Ever.

Her empty and void state was coming back—and Felicity wasn't sure it was ever going to leave again.

A phone rang. For a moment, she believed it was her own until Sam pulled her's out. A bright picture of Richie Kirsch with a presumably fake smile lit up. The last time Felicity saw his heartless face was when she watched him die and suffocate on his own blood.

The three girls paused their footsteps. "What the fuck." Tara mumbled, looking up at her sister's face.

"Why do you still have his number?" Felicity felt inclined to ask.

Sam stared blankly at his face on the screen. "I never deleted his contact. It's coming from his number."

"Don't pick that up," Tara voiced Felicity's exact thoughts, "just let it ring."

When her thumb hit the green button, Felicity groaned out loud and rubbed her eyes in exhaustion. "Fucking hell," she muttered to herself, pausing for a moment and hoping this was another one of her nightmares.

But no, standing in the middle of the sidewalk with Sam answering a dead man's phone call was real.

"Who is this?" Sam asked the person on the other end. She paused, listening to their response before answering. "I want you to think long and hard about whether you really wanna do this because the last two people that fucked with us ended up dead." Her gaze flickered to Felicity's, distinctly remembering what she did to both Amber and Richie in Stu Macher's house.