Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
┏━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━┓
Videos 2*C was probably one of the last video rental stores in Northern California—or that's how Octavia McCall saw it, anyway. The place had a worn charm, faded movie posters peeling from the walls, and rows of DVDs arranged like relics from another era. The flickering fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, and the empty aisles only added to the eerie quiet.
Though she and Stiles didn't need formal invitations to invade each other's time, the last Sunday of every month was always movie night. Tonight was her turn to pick, which meant Stiles would be in charge of snacks. Her phone was warm against her cheek as she held it up, the display casting a soft glow in the dimness.
"I'm not watching another Star Wars movie," she murmured into the phone, her fingers brushing over the spines of DVD cases. Her words were quiet, but in the silence of the store, they seemed to echo. She glanced around; no other customers were there. She assumed an employee must be in the back room, but a shiver crept up her spine as she wondered why the place felt so deserted.
"But Birdie—" Stiles began, his familiar whine cutting through the static before she cut him off.
"Nope. It's my turn to pick, and aren't you supposed to be having dinner with your dad until I grace you with my presence?"
There was a muffled exchange on his end, then, "I'm picking up food as we speak." She heard a quick "thank you" from Stiles as he collected his order.
"Good. And I'm picking out the movie."
"Just consider—"
"Bye, Stiles!" she sang, hanging up before he could argue further. She let out a small laugh, her gaze wandering back to the rows of DVDs. She skimmed the rom-coms before drifting into horror, momentarily lost in thought.
The bell above the door jingled, breaking the silence. Her interest was only piqued when she heard Jackson Whittemore's unmistakably annoyed voice ring out, "Can somebody help me find The Notebook? Hello? Is anybody working here?"
She rolled her eyes, returning her attention to the DVD in her hand, but his footsteps approached. She sighed as she looked up, meeting Jackson's unimpressed stare.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded.
She shrugged, forcing an indifferent tone. "Just trying to ruin your night. Is it working?"
He scoffed, but something seemed to catch his attention as he moved toward the back of the store. She watched him slow his pace, an uneasy feeling gnawing at her as she trailed a few steps behind.
Then she saw a pair of feet sticking out from one of the aisles. Her heart skipped, her legs moving, before she realized she was walking. The sickly metallic scent hit her, and as she rounded the corner, she found herself staring down at the lifeless body of the employee, lying in a pool of blood, his throat viciously torn open.
