𝕱𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖘𝖔𝖓

𝑩𝒐𝒐..!

Ring Ring

"Hello? Who's this?"

"No need to worry about that. Don't you know you shouldn't answer calls from numbers you don't know?" The voice on the other line inquired, with a slight playfulness in its voice. You, finding this amusing took this as a chance to entertain yourself. You sat on top of the island you were previously caressing and crossed your legs.

"Says who?" You replied cheekily. "I don't remember getting a lesson on acceptable call times unless you had a lesson plan that I didn't know about." You sigh loudly and graze your eyes around the space you're in and stand from the countertop. You stand and walk to the closet beside your room and open it to reveal many cassette tapes and vinyl on the shelves.

"Oh. A smartass, huh? Y/N." The voice whispers into your ear, almost like it's behind you. You press your fingers around a bunch of vinyl cases and think about which you want. Pausing when you realize what the voice said. "How do you know my name? Hm, Randy, you're not funny." You scoff after pondering who the voice could be.

"Oh, trust me. I know a lot more than your name, smart mouth." The voice gruffly replied, before picking their words up to form a new sentence "I know what you're doing, where you live, who you know."

"What should I listen to? Deftones, Kiss, Nirvana?" You blow air out of your lips to create a fan-like sound, ignoring his initial sentence.

"Did you not hear me?" The voice started sounding a bit annoyed. Like it was pushing for fear, a response.

"Oh, I did I'm just, not interested." You said, grabbing a vinyl and placing it on a record player in your room. You walk to the telephone and reach over to put the phone down to place it on a speaker.

The sound of the music filling your ears causes you to completely forget the presence of the person until they clear their throat on the phone and begin to talk. "What a cute little dance. Too bad you're going to end up like that slut Maureen." The voice sounded somewhat sincere with a hint of teasing in it. "What?" You turn around and look at the windows which were, surprisingly, wide open. "Hello? Seriously, who are you?" You question turning around to look at the windows and listening out for the person on the phone. "Pink is your color, babe." A pang of anxiety rushed through your system, numbing your body. Your eyes dart around the room and you rush to close all the windows. Shutting them off one by one, you hear the muffled sound of a door closing. Thinking to yourself, you tried to remember if you locked all the doors.

I came into the house and just closed it.

"Where are you." voice trembling, you back yourself against a corner in your kitchen, reaching for a knife. "Ah, Ah, ah. Put it down, doll." He whispered, chuckling a bit at your antics. "Let's play a game, shall we?"

"What happens if I don't wanna play?" You back yourself closer into the corner, knowing that it's not the smartest decision, but it'll keep you from being targeted from the back.

"I'll come in there and show you what game over is."

"What's the game?" Your voice trembled, and your eyes refused to stay in one place. Shadows in the room seem to form into people, your teeth and brain becoming static; your sense of self leaving. An empty shell is all you were. The shadows churned and twisted, reached their arms out, and hid farther away. Your eyes lowered to the floor below you and immediately snapped up once the man started talking again.

"It's a fairly easy topic for you. Horror movies." You could hear the sick bastard smiling from the other line, he took joy in seeing you mortified, like it was some show he wouldn't and couldn't get enough of.

You muster up the strength to pull yourself back into your body and answer with assertion, hoping that the dominance you once stood with would come back to you. "Okay, ask away."

"The catch is, this includes behind the scenes as well. Do you think you could do that for me, doll?" He went from menacing to charming, trying to lure you into a sense of security. Of course, it wouldn't work for you. Your guard was up and it would take a split second of seeing him for you to jump to your defense, and he knew it. But, it was still worth trying. You stood from your space in the corner and paced around your kitchen, preparing yourself for the questions he would ask, keeping your knife in hand. A rustling sound was heard from the window close to your back door, causing you to move quickly to your room upstairs, which was closer to the front. Making the gap between you two even bigger.

"First question: What horror movie has a protagonist that wrote a book containing only the words "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." There was a cheeky tone to the voice; he made this easier for you. He knows this is a warm-up question for someone that knows as much as you do.

The door to your room is opened and you quickly slip in as to not make much noise and go through your drawers to see if you still have the hunting knife you kept for protection. "Well, it's of course The Shining. Jack Torrance is the character who went mad and wrote the book while he was waiting in the hotel." You spat out the answer, releasing a breath that you didn't know you had held in. Your fingers feel a cool sensation followed by a hot liquid, the knife. You quickly reach your hands around and grab the handle and lock the windows in your room to allow you no surprises as you crept around the second floor, and walked down the stairs. You can barely catch your breath and your vision splits; your heart struggles to keep up with itself.

"Doll, if I were you I'd sit. You look troubled." You were surprised as to why there was such sincerity in the voice, but you brushed it off as a fake security blanket. "I'm quite fine. The second question now, if you don't mind." you spat

"So eager, Now, second question: What was the first horror film nominated for a Best Picture Oscar?"
You bit the inside of your cheek, furrowing your brows. "The Exorcist. It was nominated for 10." You sighed once you got your answer out and sat yourself down on the cool floor, trying to grasp reality.

"Third and final question: What amount of screen time does Freddy Krueger get in the first A Nightmare on Elm Street movie?"

"Fuck. 10 minutes." You weren't sure if the answer was right or not, to be honest. You just prayed that you weren't wrong, you didn't know what would happen if you were wrong.

"Ah, doll. Wrong answer. He had 7 minutes of screentime, Wes thought there was more fear in the unseen."

Time stopped. Nothing could be heard but your breath and your heart beating faster than it's ever beat. You swallowed the lump in your throat and closed your eyes to prepare yourself, "Come get me then." You quickly stood up as the window to your left shattered and a tall man leaned through it.

"Hello, Princess." He sneered and walked toward you, holding himself up high. Adrenaline pumped through your veins and you stood as quick as you could and grasped the knife in your hand. You launched yourself at him and he stumbled backward, falling on the floor. You swipe the knife left to right only to be met with you being flipped on your back.

You groan in pain and your breathing pace increases. I'm going to die. You thought before the man caressed your body neck to thigh with his hunting knife. "Call me Ghostface~" He cooed as he watched the knife trace over you. You kicked him in the stomach and crawled backward until you could stand; you snatched the boots you left by the couch and ran. You don't look behind you and you don't second-guess anything; you ran as fast as you could to Billy's house and didn't look back.

6:25 pm

"Mr. Loomis. Is Billy home?"