¹𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑,, billy loomis & stu macher | ✔︎

06, why don't you come and find out?

F L I C K E R
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CHAPTER SIX, why don't you come and find out?
" I can see it clear as day, you don't really need a break, wanna see what you can take, you should really run away "
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The moon was the only light shining into the cold, empty studio. When Kathryn tried to turn on the lights, they failed, adding to the unease she already felt.

Letting out a sigh, she glanced around, her reflection staring back from the large, floor-to-ceiling mirror that covered the entire wall.

After leaving San Antonio and moving to Woodsboro, Kathryn had picked up dancing as a way to cope with her anger and sadness. It was also an excuse to avoid facing her father at home.

She wasn't particularly skilled at the sport, but it was a good way to stay in shape—at least something positive had come out of it, she thought.

Setting her purse down on the floor, Kathryn opened the door to the small locker room that was connected to the main room. Squinting through the darkness, her hand eventually found the cool metal of her locker door.

Pulling it open, she grabbed her spare bag from the shelf—a bag containing a change of leggings, a large shirt, a speaker, and a few other necessities. She usually came straight to the studio after school, already prepared for the evening.

Throwing the bag over her shoulder, Kathryn slammed the locker shut. Just as she started to leave the room, the sound of footsteps behind her made her whip around, only to find no one there.

"Hello?" Kathryn called out, wondering if someone else had come to gather their things too. "Anybody there?"

Silence. That's all she got in return. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Kathryn quickened her pace and headed out of the locker room.

Leaning back against the closed door, she shook her head at herself. "Get it together, Kat," she whispered with a nervous laugh. "No one's here."

She walked back to grab her purse from the floor but flinched when her phone rang, its sound cutting through the quiet stillness.

Rummaging through her purse, Kathryn finally found the small device. Not many people carried cellphones, but she always had hers—just in case of emergencies or to check in on her delinquent twin, Nathan.

She answered without checking the caller ID. "Hello?"

There was a long pause. Just as she was about to hang up, a voice on the other end caught her attention.

"Hello?"

Kathryn furrowed her brow at the deep, unfamiliar voice. This wasn't anyone she knew, which was confirmed by the "No Caller ID" displayed on her screen.

"Who is this?" she asked, distractedly checking her reflection in the mirror and smiling. Kathryn had always loved how she looked. It was bizarre to her, that even after all the bullying and harsh treatment from her parents—especially her mother-she still happened to be the confident girl she is today.

Instead of answering her question, the voice asked, "Is this Kathryn?"

Kathryn's unease deepened as she glanced around the room. The blinds covered the large window, blocking her view outside. "Yes, this is she... Who is—"

"How does it feel to know that everyone around you is going to die soon?"

Her heart dropped, blood running cold at the words. It reminded her of what Sidney had told her earlier: