ghosts of the west - ghostface x fem!reader

* chapter two - "call me"

the rest of the work day had basically just been jed and i talking about the recent murders and thinking of ideas on how to write about it, so nothing overly exciting yet.

i bid adieu to my partner and got in my car to begin my way home. driving along the highway normally terrified me, so id tried to avoid it. that'd be hard to lose fear of, especially because i had to drive on the highway everyday for work.

i reached the apartment complex and rushed up the stairs as fast as i could to reach my room. there on the door had a sign with numbers on it that read '013', my room.

i fiddled with the keys in my hands for a moment to try and get the correct key, for some odd reason i had plenty different ones. after finally finding the correct one, i inserted it into the lock and turned it, then opened the door and went inside.

i sighed as i took a glance at the clock on the wall, which read '6:30' jesus. work ends kinda late, doesn't it? but at this time, was normally around the time id eat dinner.

there wasn't really much i knew how to make, so i just settled with a grilled cheese. i buttered the bread and put the cheese, then put the sandwich on the pan above stove top. after a little bit, the grilled cheese was ready.

i sat down on the couch and put on full house, why? because i wanted to. suddenly, my cell phone rang.

i picked it up and brought it to my face to see, and it said no caller id. i decided i was feeling a tad bit cocky today so i answered "hello?" "hello, y/n." a gravely voice greeted.

for a moment there was just pure silence, until i hung up on him.

probably some dumbass prank caller,

i thought to myself, but then the phone rang again and the same message popped up; 'no caller id.' "what the fuck?? don't you get the hint? leave me the fuck alone, child." i answered with more of a tone that time.

"do you think that's anyway to talk to a stranger? i just wanna converse with you," the man began briefly, "say, what's your favourite scary movie?" the voice was patient and gave me time to answer.

"please don't kill me for what i answer, but probably texas chainsaw massacre," i hoped he wouldn't make fun of me. "ooh, i liked that one, very gory. why exactly that one?" he deeply spoke into the phone.

"well, there's horny teens and i find that funny, plus it's odd and gory, which makes it interesting. the plot doesn't make much sense at the beginning though," i explained as i turned off the television to have more audio clarity. "i liked it because how bloody it was, and when leatherface turned that boy's face into a skin mask? pure comedy right there." the man laughed audibly.

"uh.. please get some psychiatric help. bye now." that kid was insane, fucking crazy ass. i hung up the phone again and sighed, how did he get my number?

fucking psych ward escapee.

i thought angrily, who'd find that funny? his face was turned into a fucking skin mask, that shits disturbing. the phone rang once more, and now i was getting annoyed. i picked it up, attempting to keep my cool in the moment.

"hello.. again." i was getting fed up with this guy, why keep spam calling and saying horrible stuff? "you know, it's not very polite to tell somebody to get psychiatric care," the voice spoke deeply and simple.

"that's kind of the point." i replied under my breath. "mhm, is that so?" he sounded a bit more upset at my snarky reply, which he somehow heard. "yeah, dipshit. that is the point." i snapped at him through the phone, "now enlighten me, who are you?"

"oh i thought you knew, little miss journalist!" he laughed at my question. "just fuckin' tell me!" i was getting pissed off now.

"you know who i am, don't you? the most popular killer of todays century?" he seemed he was over exaggerating, surely he wasn't the most popular. "oh my fucking god.." i was speechless, i knew who it was. "MICHAEL JACKSON??"

"huh? what the fuck– no, you uncultured swine!" the man snapped at me, and it was hilarious. "hey, do you thing that's anyway to talk to a stranger?" i mocked him with a giggle behind.

suddenly, the front door creaked open and there appeared a tall black figure with a shiny silver knife in hand. panicked, i hid behind the couch so i could hopefully avoid being caught. loud footsteps approached the kitchen area, and there he was. the serial killer everyone had been talking about; ghostface.

the mask he was wearing was pure white with a shrieking expression plastered upon it, with black mesh covering the eye holes for vision, but to not be seen by others.

the sound of the footsteps grew nearer, and there he was. standing right in front of me. "ah, so this is the pretty face who's mocked me, yes?" he knelt down and brought my face closer to his. "i- yes, i was the one who mocked you." i silently admitted.

he pointed the knife tip up to my neck. if im honest, i didn't really want to talk to this guy, nor encounter him. it was strange because i didn't feel much fear at all, only anxiety but that's what i normally have when i speak to people.

"such a shame id have to murder you, you truly are as adorable as they say you are," ghostface fake pouted at his own remark.

"but, you wouldn't have to! i-i could keep my mouth shut and just tell no one of our little encounter," i mentally cursed at myself for stuttering. "sure, we could do that, but you would need to prove your loyalty. plus you'd become apart of my plan for fame," i didn't care what id have to do, as long as i lived.

"i wouldnt mind that!" feeling a little hope, i accepted the challenge to prove my loyalty to a psychopath. "are you sure? you can't go back on this." he warned me of the consequences, still not explaining what id have to do.

"yeah, im like 99.99% sure, id rather live, no matter the consequences," i confirmed as he chuckled at my remark.

"alright, don't say i didn't warn you." ghostface lifted my sleeve and brought his knife up to my arm. he slowly carved 'ghostface' into my skin, blood flowing out of the cuts.

"fuck!" i whisper-yelled and winced due to the pain. "where do you keep the first aid kit?" he asked and stared at me for a moment. i gestured to the bathroom, and then he disappeared for a little bit.

he then arrived back with the first aid kit and some rubbing alcohol. my teeth clenched from the pain of the disinfectant flowing through my cuts, cleaning them. as soon as the man was done, he wrapped my arm up in the soft yet scratchy gauze. "leave that on for the night and switch it out in the morning before you head off to work," he spoke briefly before exiting the apartment, closing the door behind himself.

i sighed as i got up from the floor and lied down flat with my arms and legs spread in my bed. i just stared at the ceiling when it occurred to me:

im gonna be known as the dumb cunt who sold her soul to the devil.

**

I LOVE LEAVING YOU LITTLE SHITS TO THINK ABOUT WHATLL HAPPEN NEXT HEHSHSJSHS

STAY SAFE MLS AND UH TO BE CONTINUEUEUDD,,,
Sincerely Yours, —kitty