starry eyes ✮ slashers.

chapter 014.

fourteen. you've always been.

It's the following day, late at night, when the home phone rings. Brahms stirs in his sleep, hearing Lyra's drowsy footsteps beneath him as she follows the ringing. Tom's still fast asleep no doubt so Brahms decides to descend the ladder.

Despite the noise it makes, it couldn't be heated over the phones ringing and so he creeps quietly to the kitchen, hiding in the corner as Lyra picks up the phone.

"Hello?" She speaks, letting out a yawn after, rubbing her eyes to make herself more awake.

"Hello, Lyra." The voice is destroyed almost, like a voice modulation, making it more gravely and malicious.

"Who's this?" She asks, letting out another little yawn followed by a sigh. Brahms tilts his head as he watches her converse through the phone.

"Do you like scary movies?" The voice asks and Lyra frowns, looking down at the phone, 'no caller ID'.

"Who are you? It's like three in the morning, what is your problem?" Lyra asks, racking her brain for the people in her class. She can think of no one but the boys that approached her.

"Dating a professor, that's awfully scandalous, Lyra." She rolls her eyes at the voice. Are they trying to make her scared? Angry? Irritated? Only the last one appears successful.

"Oh but what's this—?" There are keys pressed in the background as the voice wavers for a moment. "Harry Warden?" The voice speaks more quietly and Lyra's lips part in surprise and she hangs up the phone.

She stands there for a moment, head in hands and thinks. There must be records online of Tom or something? But who is this person that's trying so hard to freak her out? And why are they using Tom?

She sighs. In a spiteful moment, she hopes they realise who he is, what he has done. She hopes they fear him.

"Lyra sad?" Brahms asks, Lyra jumping in fright as he appears right before her. She breaths heavily and clutches her heart. He's got to stop doing that.

"Not sad, stressed a little bit. But it'll be okay, Brahms." She tells him with a warm smile, hoping she eased his worries even just slightly.

Brahms leans down, his mask cold against her neck as he stiffly embraces her once more. Lyra rests her forehead on his shoulder and exhales slowly.

She thinks of her own words, it'll be okay. And she believes it, things will be okay. She has Tom and Brahms and this person can't hurt them because they're undoubtedly prepared for such things. Everything will work out just fine.

"Back to bed now, Brahms." Lyra pats his back, the large man pulling away but he doesn't respond. He just looks at her, at her fluffy slippers, her shorts and baggy shirt, her messy hair. She looks tired but pretty.

"Pretty." Brahms tells her, watching her cheeks tint pink as he leans forward once more, he doesn't go for her neck however, he dips his head just enough to get close to her lips. His hand reaches up for her neck, gripping it gently as he draws her closer and she presses a kiss to his mask once more. His grip tightens on her throat ever so slightly and she gaps, pulling away.

Her blush is deeper than before as she looks at him intently.

"Where did you learn that?" She asks, eyes narrowed at the man. He shrugs.

"Vampire." Lyra covers her mouth to stop a small giggle from escaping. Perhaps she should've checked what the book was about exactly. If he'd learned to choke her from that, she wonders what else it's teaching him.

"Bedtime now." She repeats after composing herself and Brahms sighs, trudging away and back to the attic. He considers asking her to tuck him in again, but the phone call had disturbed her enough, she needs to rest too.

Lyra returns to her room, sliding between the cool sheets and into Tom's arms.

"Where'd you go?" He grumbles, half asleep. She looks up at him and pressed a small kiss to his nose.

"Answered the phone." She tells him and he hums, satisfied with her answer as he drags her closer to his body. His arms curl around her, hand caressing the soft skin of her lower back.

He feels something stir within him and suddenly feels more awake. Harry prods at the back of his mind as he looks down at her. Strong feelings, he curses.

Love and lust must be kept at bay.

Stu's face is bright red, veins hurting from his skin as he paces his living-room. His hands run through his hair erratically as he curses under his breath.

"Billy she's dating the fucking miner killer, ghost-face is nothing compared to that!" Billy rolls his eyes at the dramatic emotion his friend is showing, continuing to scroll on his laptop, reading different headlines about this guy.

"Ghost-face is everything, Stu. Don't be so stupid, we could take him." Billy speaks without looking up from his screen and Stu lets out a small yell of anger. Why does no one ever fucking listen to him?

"Stop your whining." Billy tells him irritatedly, "You're gonna give me a fucking headache." Stu let's out one more frustrated cry before running away, towards the stairs and his room where he's free from Billy for awhile.

The brunette boy runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face as he reads quickly, brows knitted together. He researched her home and it's history, taking a break from Harry Warden momentarily and stumbles upon a funeral so tragic that it made the papers. Billy would've been two when a young boy was killed in a house fire, by the name of Brahms Heelshire.

The boy was accused of murdering his playmate, a young girl but died before anyone could receive answers. There are articles, conspiracies on that house, claiming young women go in there and never come back out, saying Brahms haunts the home.

So what makes Lyra so different? Why is she still alive?