𝗙𝗟𝗜𝗖𝗞𝗘𝗥, billy loomis & stu macher

42 the reckoning

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(   chapter forty-two, the reckoning )
❝ turns out I'm living in a horror film where I'm both the killer and the final girl ❞

december 2nd,   1990

THE WOODEN FLOOR beneath her feet creaked with every careful step as Kathryn made her way down the staircase, her eyes focused downward to avoid tripping in the darkness of her family home in San Antonio. The soft glow of the living room TV cast flickering shadows on the walls, blending with the steady ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway.

A slow smile spread across eleven-year-old Kathryn Ellis' face, her braided hair bouncing behind her as she ran toward her father.

"Daddy!"

At the sound of her voice, John Ellis blinked awake, the haze of sleep vanishing as he turned toward her. His tired expression melted into a grin, and as soon as she was close enough, he scooped her onto his lap.

"Well, look who's still up!" he chuckled, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a playful kiss to her forehead. "Why aren't you in bed like your brother, huh?"

Kathryn giggled, squirming as he gently pinched her sides. She gazed up at him with wide, innocent eyes — too young to notice the heavy look in his or the empty beer cans scattered at his feet.

"Can I tell you a secret?" she asked, lowering her voice as if sharing something forbidden.

John leaned closer, humoring her. "A secret, huh? I'm all ears."

"Nate's still awake," she whispered conspiratorially. "He's upstairs reading comics under his blanket."

John raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Is that so?"

Kathryn nodded with mock seriousness. "But don't tell Mommy. She'll get mad and yell at him."

"Your secret's safe with me," John promised, smoothing her hair affectionately. He gave a small sigh and shifted in his chair, signaling it was time for her to head back upstairs. "Alright, kiddo. Off to bed before your mom catches you awake too."

"Okay," Kathryn mumbled, sliding off his lap. But instead of heading back to her room, her feet carried her toward the hallway.

A faint light spilled into the dark corridor from her mother's office, the door left slightly ajar. Curiosity sparked in her chest, but so did a twinge of anxiety. Her mom was always busy in there, surrounded by papers and books that Kathryn didn't fully understand.

She paused at the doorway, peeking inside. Her mother sat at her desk, eyes focused on a thick file, her pen scratching down notes. The soft hum of a desk lamp cast a warm glow over her face, highlighting her serious expression.

Kathryn hesitated, clutching the doorframe nervously. "Mom?"

Erica Ellis glanced up, her eyes narrowing at the sight of her daughter not in bed. "Kathryn," she said, setting down her pen. "What are you doing up? You know how important it is to get your rest."

"I couldn't sleep," the young girl admitted, stepping a little farther into the room. Her eyes flitted to the open file on the desk — full of black-and-white photos and words she couldn't quite make out.

Erica leaned back in her chair, studying her daughter for a moment before gesturing to the small chair across from her desk. "Come sit with me for a minute."